Disclaimer: RENT and its characters do not belong to me.
Author's notes: One last one shot before I post my next chapter fic. I'm still trying to finish plot-mapping it out. But it's in the works.
Dearly Beloved, We Gather Here to Say Our Goodbyes
"Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes to Markus Samuel Cohen."
The funeral was small and quiet. Empty pews lined the church. About five people were scattered towards the front, two or three in the back. To the ones in the front, the words from the Pastor were emotional and significant. To the ones in the back, the words from the Pastor meant that they had to be quiet and respectful while they warmed up.
"I didn't have the pleasure of knowing Mark, but I have been told that he was a caring individual."
This was where the few in the front bowed their heads. It was hard to look at the coffin when the past tense was used. It made the entire thing seem real.
"He passed on at the age of 45, a still young man, taken from us early by a terrible accident."
There was a small blank screen placed near the coffin. In the back there was a projector, that a young boy was sitting next to. He appeared bored out of his mind, yet he was still sitting there. The mourners in front just figured that his mother had forced him to volunteer at the church that day, instead of doing whatever it was he would normally be doing.
"At this time, one of Mark's friends, would like to speak. Benjamin."
Benjamin Coffin the Third stood from his first row seat, turning around. It was weird for him to be doing this. He wasn't a good friend of Mark's. He hadn't been a good friend of Mark's since he had moved out and married Allison. Allison sat in front of him now, giving him a look of boredom. He wouldn't normally say it, but she pissed him off. This was a good friend of his. Well Mark had been a good friend, and he was the only one from the beginning left. He was on his own. "Mark was a good friend of mine. And I use was, not because he's dead now, but because he hasn't really been my friend since we were 23.
"I couldn't tell you anything about him now. And if I think about it I probably can't tell you that much about what he was then. No one in this room is that qualified to talk about Mark. Mark was a tough guy to crack, and the only people who ever got through to him can't be here. Physically anyways. But there is something that I'd like to show you."
He gave the boy in the back a nod, and he flicked the projector on. Benny stepped aside as an image appeared on the screen.
There was no fancy title or anything, it just started right away, showing a background image that Benny could recognize as the loft that he himself had once lived in. And after a brief moment Roger appeared, stepping from behind the camera to sitting on the lumpy, torn couch.
"So, we've decided to kidnap Mark's camera." Roger spoke with a little bit of a laugh gracing his eyes. "We practically had to saw off his hand to get it, but that's Mark. Anyway, we're making our own movie for him, because we realized that he'll be at all of our funerals, but we won't be able to make his. This was the best thing we could think of, so we can tell all of his embarrassing stories like he will for us. So that's it."
There was a very rough edit of the film, and it switched, from Roger being on the couch to Maureen. "There's this thing with Mark." She began quietly. "The way he just watches you. He lets you do whatever it is you're doing, but he watches you." She smiled a bit. "Sometimes he'll film you, while he does it, but most of the time he's very subtle about it. Fading into the background. That was really who he is. Someone that observes everything, but rarely participates. I can remember this one time, it must have been just a few days after we broke up. I was at the loft, picking up the rest of my stuff, and he let me in, and then he went back to his seat in the kitchen, where he was just sitting, watching Roger sit on the couch and write in a notebook.
"Mark just had this smile on his face when he did it. And you could tell that it wasn't because of what Roger was doing, or even because of Roger. Mark just really likes to watch things." Her grin even broadened a bit. "Like the time when he filmed us having--."
"Maureen this is going to be played in a church." A voice cut her off, in warning.
"Oh right." She giggled a little, and blushed, shaking some curls out of her face. "Well, as I recall, he really liked to watch that tape when we were together." Her eyebrows wiggled. "Don't get me wrong, our Marky is a total sweetheart. But he is a guy…"
The film switched again, and it was Mimi sitting on the couch. "I don't know Mark as well as everyone else…he's really hard to get close to. The way he always has his camera with him. But, if you can get him alone…There was this one night in the summer. Roger had a gig, and I was really tired, so we didn't want me to go, 'cause it would have made it easier for me to get sick. Mark stayed home with me, but we weren't really hanging out or anything. He was just editing his films, and I must have fallen asleep. Then there was this crash of thunder so I woke up. I guessed I screamed or something. Mark came running in, all concerned.
"He talked to me, and he really listened to what I said. He wouldn't leave until I was asleep again.
"We aren't great friends or anything, but with Mark you don't have to be his best friend for him to care about you. Mark cares the second you meet him."
Mimi left, and was replaced by Joanne. "Most guys would have a problem becoming friends with their ex-girlfriend's girlfriend, but not Mark. Even when we first met he was friendly. Sure it was a bit awkward, but once we got the tango out of the way, it was like I was just another old friend.
"It's like that with him. He trusts people really easily. And doing what he can to help someone is a thing with him. Like filming these snotty kid's birthday parties just to make sure they have enough money for food and Roger's meds. He'll do whatever he can to make sure people are taken care of.
"I was walking with him to one of Maureen's shows once, and we were cutting through the park. It was midday, and we were going to go help setup the equipment. And this little girl just runs right into him. Any typical New Yorker, myself included, would have just kept walking, but Mark just knelt down, and introduced himself, asking her name, where she was running to. It turned out that she had lost track of her mother. So he just takes her hand, and must have spent about an hour, searching that park until he got that girl back with her mom. He was great with her. He'll make a great father."
Then it was Collins' turn. "The first time I met Mark he was this scrawny, pale, geek, from Scarsdale who got overwhelmed his first time in the city. I found him right as these three teenagers who couldn't have been more than fourteen started harassing him. Which is kind of funny, because he was probably nineteen at the time. What was funnier was that he looked about twelve. So I helped him out a bit, and gave him a place to stay. And as it turns out, I left before he did. He's still there.
"Mark's very insistent about carrying his weight. I can remember when he had been living with us for about a year, and he got appendicitis. Of course at first we thought it was just the flu or something so he stayed home from his job. And then about a week later he took a turn for the worse when his appendix ruptured and he had to go to the hospital. His job fired him and he had to use pretty much all of the money he had saved up to pay the medical bills. Then the day after he gets out of the hospital he goes out and finds a new job. He was supposed to rest for at least another week.
"But you can't try and tell Mark how to take care of himself. He won't listen. However, he will tell you exactly how to take care of yourself, and he'll make you listen. Mark's a pushy little bastard when he needs to be."
"What was that you said about it being shown in a church Collins?"
Collins laughed a bit. "Mark has taken care of everyone in our group at one time or another. Maybe not monetarily, but he would help. He got Maureen home safe when she got drunk, he got Roger through his withdrawal, he helped me out when I found out about my disease. He was just a kid then, but he was so good at acting like an adult. Mark has always been good at everything like that."
And last on the screen came Roger. It made sense that he was last. He and Mark were closest. "Mark, well…I didn't like Mark as first. Well, it's not that I didn't like him as much that I didn't notice him. The way he was working to make sure he covered himself for the stuff around the loft, and the way I didn't care. But somewhere right before the time where I found April, he helped out my band before a gig. It turns out he knew about sound equipment, and then he became interesting.
"The thing about Mark is the way that he knows what other people need to do. He can tell someone exactly what they need to make their life work, but I don't think he can make heads or tails of his own life. I don't think that he ever takes the time to look at it the way that he looks at ours.
"And with Mark, if you're friends with him, you have to be prepared to be friends with his mother. Or at least be able to tolerate her voice. Because she calls. A lot. Mark tries to ignore her…and if that goes long enough she assumes he's in absolute destitution, so she sends him some form of kitchen appliance. The bright side about this is whenever we actually have food, we have something to cook it with.
"Everyone's told this story about Mark, something that really embodies him. And I don't really think that I can chose one. There's just so many great things about Mark. One story just doesn't really sum it all up about him. But I guess there is one that hasn't really been told, because I'm the only one who knows about it.
"Mark could be a pushover, but he did have his limits. I'm gonna apologize for the language now, because I know someone's about to remind me that this will be shown in a church. Mark got to the point where he got tired of taking someone's shit. And it was mostly mine. Like right after Angel died and I was leaving. He tried to stop me, and he finally told me exactly what my problem was, and how horrible I was for not facing it.
"Mark is a great friend. He'll always be as honest as he needs to be with you. He always has been with me. I don't know where I'd be without him today.
"That's why I stole his camera to make this. I don't know how to thank him for everything he's done, but I know he's always worried about being alone after we go. So I thought we should do this. So he'd be guaranteed to have someone speak at his funeral that really loved him.
"I know that I did."
The film suddenly cut to black, and Benny looked back to the few people. "I think that's all that there really is to say about Mark. I doubt any one here could have done any better. I think that now we should just let him rest in peace don't you?"
It was the best goodbye that Benny could think to give Mark.
There. I'll probably start my next chapter fic either tomorrow or Monday, but if not it'll be next weekend because unfortunately on Tuesday I am forced back to Hell, AKA the joyous world of school.