A/N: So, two years ago, I fell in love with the musical RENT. A week ago, I fell in love with the movie and rushed home to find my soundtrack. Now, I have RENT fever, and must write a fic. So, no Phantom/hack for a while. Sorry! –sob- I have RENT fever! It cannot be ignored!

A Thing Like Life – Chapter 1

I wonder what life is like, for all my friends. People like Collins, and Roger, and Mimi, and Angel. I mean, seriously. I really wonder. It's almost frightening to me, a thing like AIDS. Maybe that's why I always hid from the world. I was so afraid of AIDS, and the death that seemed to ensue.

I mean, AIDS took away Angel. What was AIDS like for her? Maybe it was different for Mimi, and Roger, and Collins. What about all those people from Life Support?

Well, if I learned one thing in the past year, it's that I need to face these fears. I can't hide from the world anymore. And that means going through my tapes.

I walk up the steps to the loft, the door creaking unusually loudly as I opened it. I sigh, then call out, even though I'm not sure anybody's inside. "Roger, we're going to have to oil the hinges again." Of course, my call falls on nonexistent ears: Roger's probably with Mimi now. The door clangs behind me as I walk into my room. There's my camera, lying on the bed.

I bend down on all fours, throwing up the sheets to grab some things from underneath the bed. I pull out the projector, which I had put away after Christmas Eve about two weeks ago. Then I have to crawl under the bed to pull out a box. All the material I cut from the documentary. And I knew why I had cut every last bit of it.

I slowly stand up, as if the burden of what I was doing was weighing me down. I go over to the almost blank wall and tear off a poster from some band I had never heard of. ("Hope Roger doesn't want it," I murmur, setting it idly on the bed.) I crouch down, picking the projector up and setting it lightly on a bedside table. I pull the table over to the center of the room, the legs scraping the floor loudly.

The sound of somebody opening the door. I sigh, kneeling down and looking through the tapes. "I'll just have to start at the beginning..." I pull out the first roll of film, from 1/21/90. A year ago this month, I think idly. I begin fitting the roll of film onto the projector, twining the ribbon around. After making sure everything is ready, I go over to the windows, shutting the blinds silently.

Somebody opens the door of my bedroom a crack, peeks in, but immediately shuts the door before I can turn around and face them. A moment later, the light sound of a guitar, as it is slowly tuned. I sigh again. He doesn't want to see this. He's still dealing with Mimi.

I reach over to the switch on the projector, switching it on.

An image is cast onto the blank wall of the bedroom. I blink for a moment, watching the video. It's the loft, of course. For some reason, the camera is sitting on the table behind the couch...and I'm on the couch, doing something...I get up off the bed to get a closer look. Of course. I almost laugh out loud for even questioning. I'm cutting. Had I left the camera on the table and accidentally turned it on? That's the only explination I come up with for why I'm not holding the camera. Maybe I hadn't wanted to be recording this. I don't remember this day exactly...

.-.-.

I looked over the film at the images I saw on the film, transparent. A woman getting quite irritated with a console on a partially built stage, a man struggling to play the guitar. And a couple, embracing amid chaos and fire that engulfed everything around them...

I sighed, wrapping the film back up, marking it with the date 12/24/89 with a marker I had pulled out from behind my ear, and putting it back into a box at my feet. I leaned back on the sofa, my eyes staring at the ceiling, as if it seemed to go on forever.

I remember now. I shift slightly on the bed, getting a little more comfortable. The sound of the guitar outside mingles with the whirring of the projector as I continue to watch, my mind replaying that day in my head as I watch the image on the wall...

Suddenly, somebody knocked on the door, soft and with a rhythmic pattern to it. I guessed who it was before I had even stood up to open the door.

The moment the door was open I was literally grabbed by somebody and pulled into a very tight embrace. "Hello, Mark! How have you been!"

I smiled lightly, hugging the transvestite back. "Hi, Angel."

Angel pulled away, as if she was so excited to see me she couldn't stand just standing there. "We haven't seen you since...was it New Years?"

I blinked, looking behind Angel, seeing a man behind her, smiling slyly. I smiled again, and the two of us pulled into an embrace. "Collins," I said. "I thought you and Angel were outta here..."

"Yeah, we were...but Angel wanted to do something here before we left." Collins was smiling big and broad. He looked happier right now that I ever remembered him being.

"And what would that be, hmm?" I said as I pulled away from Collins, turning back to Angel.

She was smiling, too. She looked just as happy as Collins. Heck, for all I knew, they had just barely gotten finished spending some 'quality time' together. It would explain both of their extreme giddiness. But Angel was always happy. That's what I always loved about Angel. "Well, we wanted to go to Life Support...and tell everybody there goodbye."

I sighed, my smile slipping away from me slightly. "Hey...have you seen Roger?"

Angel smiled at me. "Yeah, he's downstairs with Mimi."

"Figured as much," I said, shrugging. "You should see them. They're so...happy together." My smile ebbed away even more.

I hear a thud behind me. I quickly switch off the projector, jumping up and turning around. I hadn't noticed the music stop. Roger was standing in the doorway, looking at where the image had been moments before on the blank wall. It takes a moment for him to snap out of his trance. He begins to back out of the room. "Sorry." He's out of the room before I can say anything to him.

I sit back down on the bed, thinking. Now Iremember why I cut that part. It hurt too much seeing it...remembering how happy Angel was, and everything she had been. And then, suddenly, I had remembered my first emotions...back then was when I first began to hide...

I sigh again, leaning back over to the projector and switching it on.

Angel seemed to notice that something was wrong. "Mark, is something up?"

I blinked, shaking my head. "No, I'm fine. I'm...glad to see you guys!" I gave a great big smile. I didn't want them to know how I felt, not when Angel and Collins looked so happy together... they were just fine without me having to tell them something as childish as what he had been feeling lately. And what had been going on with Roger and Mimi. They really didn't need to know that they fought.

Angel's brow furrowed slightly, but she brightened up almost immediately. "I know! Why don't you come with us to Life Support? You can film some more. I bet you would really enjoy it." I didn't say anything. "Come on!"

Collins nodded. "I think Angel's right, Mark. If there's something up, why not just come and try to forget about it for a bit?"

Mark shrugged. Just run away and find a respite from all the chaos around him... "Yeah, but what about Roger? Isn't he coming?"

Angel looked down, fidgiting with the hem of her fine coat. "Well, of course we invited him. But...he's probably thinking about a lot of things right now..."

"He didn't want to come," Collins said bluntly.

I paused. "Oh." He wasn't going to Life Support? He had gone recently to their meetings. Why not today? "Well...let me get my camera gathered up, all right?" I rushed back into the loft, grabbing my bag off of the couch, making sure I had some film ready and a good battery before I went back out to join them.

"Hey, Mark?"

I jump up yet again, switching off the projector yet again. I sigh, seeing Mark standing in the doorway once again. "Yeah?"

"I...was wondering...what are you doing?" Roger was looking at the box of film out on the floor, film he knew I had cut from my movie.

"Oh...this?" I laugh, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. "Uh, I was just...looking over some old memories."

Roger looks up at me. "That's all?"

There is a short silence. Then I shrug, trying to still sound casual. "Yeah, I guess so."

At these words, Roger looks at the ground intently. "Well, I don't wanna bug you or anything...it's probably work for your film...?"

"No, it's not..." He doesn't buy my act, so I drop it. "I just...need to do this."

He sighs, then looks up. "I know what you mean." There is silence between us once again, and then Roger turns around to leave the room.

I call after him. "Hey, you can stay and watch if you want-"

"No. ...Thanks." He rejects my request very quickly, so I leave it alone as he walks out and closes the door behind him. I look over at the clock by my bed. Ten at night. I sigh, falling down onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. Could I get through all these memories without going back into hiding again?