Disclaimer: I can't claim any part RENT. I don't have the genius to create something like that.
January 9, 1991, 6:10 p.m. Eastern Standard Time:
Paige knocks lightly on the loft door before sliding it open. Roger is sitting in the armchair fiddling with his guitar, a slight frown on his face. "Hey," she greets him, ruffling his hair. He smiles as he bats her hand away. "Where's Mimi tonight?"
"Double shift," he answers. "But she gets tomorrow off."
"That's good," she says. "Is Mark around, or is he out somewhere?"
"He's editing," he nods his head toward Mark's closed door. Paige opens it slowly.
Mark is too caught up in his footage to notice the door opening, despite the light it lets into the otherwise dark room. Paige closes it again quickly and sneaks up behind to look over his shoulder.
The footage is from Christmas, that night up on the roof. Paige sees herself snapping photos with her own camera, and speaking words she cannot hear. The camera shakes and drops slightly, pointing up towards the sky. Two faces enter the frame, their lips meeting in a nervous but passionate kiss.
Their first meaningful kiss captured on film.
"Hey," Paige whispers close to his ear. He turns to her, obviously surprised. She brushes the side of her nose against his and pecks him on the lips. "I need your help," she murmurs, still very close to his mouth.
"With what?" he blushes and quickly shuts off the piece of equipment, trying to hide what he'd been watching.
Paige grins. "You're so cute when you blush." He flushes a brighter red. She kisses him again. "I need help with how to get to a real grocery store, with real food and alcohol and all that good stuff. No more twenty-four hour drugstores."
Mark flips on the light and picks up his coat and scarf from his bed. "Where'd you get money for food?" he asks.
"Collins lent some to me. He asked me to get a few things for him too."
They enter the living room. Roger has resorted to playing Musetta's Waltz again from lack of inspiration.
"Roger, I'm taking Paige to the market. You wanna come?" Mark invites. Roger puts down his guitar and stands.
"I'm going to die if I don't get out of this place," he replies. He picks up his leather jacket from the table.
"Did you take your AZT?"
"Yes," Roger groans. "I'm not two. I know what it means when my pager goes off." Mark sighs.
The three traipse down the stairs and cross the street to the nearest subway station. They stand waiting for the next train, shivering in the concrete-filled underground. One arrives after a few minutes, and they quickly jump inside to get out of the cold.
Arden's Market is four stops away. Snow is beginning to flurry around the glow of the street lamps when they exit the subway. They pull their coats tighter around their bodies and walk the block and a half.
An inviting smell hits them as they step inside the store. It is the smell of citrus and newly baked bread. After two weeks of nothing but stale cereal and peanut butter, Paige is in heaven.
"What was the stuff that Collins wanted you to get for him?" Mark asks. She pulls Collins' list out of her back pocket. Mark takes it and looks over it. "I can go get this stuff," he offers, "and you can get whatever you need. I'll find you when I'm done."
"Ok," she says. She and Roger grab a basket and start down an aisle. Mark heads to the other side of the store.
"Hey Paige?" Roger starts.
"Huh?" she responds. She grabs a few cans of soup off a shelf.
"How serious are you and Mark?" The question catches her off guard. She blinks a few times before she answers.
"I don't know, why?"
"Well," he begins again. He glances down the aisle, checking to see if Mark is nearby. "I don't know if Mark told you this, but Maureen was his last girlfriend."
Paige is visibly confused. "But Maureen's a lesbian."
"Now she is. She dumped him for Joanne."
"Ouch," she winces.
"It took him almost a year to really get over it." He pauses. "Basically I just want to keep him from getting hurt again. He's my best friend, and I hate seeing him unhappy."
Paige looks him directly in the eye and sees the concern etched in with the green. "I don't know where this relationship is going yet," she says, "but the last thing I want to do is hurt him." Roger smiles, some of the worry fading from his eyes. Paige hugs him, briefly but tightly. "You're a good friend, Roger. Mark's lucky to have you looking out for him."
9:35 p.m. Eastern Standard Time:
"Are you hungry?" Paige asks.
"A little," Mark responds. Paige walks to her kitchen cabinets and starts searching through them. He follows. She peeks into the fridge and pulls out some cheese slices. She grabs the bread off the counter and retrieves a frying pan. "What are you making?"
"Grilled cheese," she says. "It's easy and fast, and I'm starving." Her stomach growls a little to prove her point.
When the sandwiches are finished they sit on the kitchen counter to eat, because Paige still doesn't have a table. She doesn't realize that she's left the burner on, and when she moves to get off the counter after eating her food she touches it with her left hand.
"Ow!" she hisses, jumping and shaking her hand.
"What happened?"
"I burned my thumb," she grumbles. Mark jumps off the counter and takes her wrist. He leads her over to the sink and lets cold water run over the burnt appendage. Her thumb is bright red when he turns off the tap and looks at it.
"Does it feel any better?"
"A little." He kisses it as gently as possible. She winces slightly, but smiles. "Now it's much better."
He takes her chin between his thumb and finger and pulls her in for a kiss. She responds zealously, slipping her fingers through his belt loops and pulling his hips to hers. Encouraged by her actions, he slides his hands to her lower back, to the point where her shirt ends and her skirt begins. His fingertips graze her warm skin, slipping higher up her back and under the shirt.
They stumble to her room, shedding clothes as they go. Mark kicks the door closed behind them.
January 10, 1991, 8:08 a.m. Eastern Standard Time:
Paige is startled awake by the sound of the phone ringing. No one has called since she moved to Alphabet City. She isn't used to the sound.
"Fuck," she whispers. She slides Mark's arm off her waist, holds the blanket up to cover her chest, and sits on the edge of the bed. "Hello," she says sleepily into the receiver, trying to stifle a yawn and failing.
"Hmm, sounds like someone didn't get much sleep last night," a familiar voice says gleefully.
"It's too fucking early, Reuben," she snaps softly. "Are you still in Chicago?"
"No, I'm home now. But I don't plan to stay long. I've got a surprise for you."
"What is it?"
"Can't tell you yet. You'll just have to wait until I get there."
"When's that?"
"I should be there around one tomorrow. Go back to sleep, I'll see you then."
"Bye. Love you."
"Love you too, Paige. Bye." She hangs up the phone and yawns again.
Mark's eyes are open, blurry from sleepiness and confused without his glasses. Paige lies down again and whispers an apology for waking him. He pulls her closer, enveloping her in his warm arms. He kisses her lightly and closes his tired eyes to sleep once again. She follows his example.
January 11, 1991, 1:12 p.m. Eastern Standard Time:
Paige waits on the steps of the building for her step-brother to arrive. He's late, as usual. She isn't worried, but her eyes keep darting up and down the street from anxiousness. She looks down at her frozen fingers. I really need to buy a pair of gloves, she thinks. Her thumb now has a shiny pink burn from the other night. She smiles when she thinks of it.
The sound of a horn startles her, and she looks across the street to see her step-father's car. She can see boxes in the back seat, and a few are tied to the roof.
Reuben steps out of the car. Paige races across the pavement to hug him. He squeezes her so tight that she can't breathe. "How was Chicago?" she gasps.
He loosens his grip and looks her in the eye. "Windy," he says. She laughs.
"What are all the boxes for?" she asks.
"That's the surprise," he says, eyes twinkling joyfully.
"Tell me, tell me, tell me!" she begs, jumping up and down impatiently.
He chuckles. "I'm renting an apartment in SoHo," he reveals. "I got a job offer in the Financial District, and I accepted. I'm moving here!"
Her eyes light up. "You're moving to SoHo! That's so close! I'll get to see you all the time!"
"I know, isn't it great?" Reuben hugs her again.
"I can't wait for you to meet everybody!" she shrieks excitedly.