Warnings: parody/badfic, Mary Sue, underage sex, public hangings, HIV/AIDS, illegal substances, homosexual behavior, heterosexual behavior, character bashing, stalker tendencies, implied sex between three people, and Roger momentarily becomes an angry black woman
I do not own RENT.
Any views expressed herein are not that of the author and therefore should not be taken seriously.
o
A Dilemma Of The Hearto
Chanterelle Faith Hope Elizabeth Santiago stared up at the run down building with hope shining in her bright green/blue/gray/occasionally purple eyes (the actual color of her eyes changed depending on what the weather was like, what time of year it was, and who was the Speaker of the House).
Her new life was going to begin here, in Alphabet City. Sure it wasn't as nice as the palace she had once lived in, but ever since that one tragic night when her father had disowned her, she could no longer afford that type of living. But maybe here in this place she could find who she had wanted to be – an artist.
With that thought in mind swung her shoulder length midnight black hair that had streaks of blue, green, and occasionally purple, (A/N: I totally did this to my hair and looks soooooooo pretty. Check out my MySpace to see some totally hot pictures of it.) which she had put in when she felt the need to be Bohemian in her suffocating home environment, over her shoulder and patted her slightly bulging tummy.
"Well, baby," she said in the most mothering voice she could muster, "This is our new home."
You see, Chanterelle's story actually began about four months ago, when her undeniably sexy yoga instructor seduced her into his bed. Her, being the naïve little girl she was, thought nothing about protection and thusly ended up pregnant. When her cold, socialite parents found out they came down harshly on the two. First they disowned their only daughter, and then had the yoga instructor fired and publicly hanged.
But that wasn't even the worst part. What she had neglected to tell her parents was that her sexy yoga instructor had HIV, and now she too was HIV positive. The thought that she might pass it on to her child made her sadder than that one time when she had spilt her blue/green/occasionally purple nail polish all over her poster of Adam Pascal. (A/N: OMG, Adam is soooooooooooooooo hott, I just love him, liek so totally much. I'm going to liek marry him some day. Couldn't you tell by my user name, AdamsSexyWife98765432100?)
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MARK'S POV (THAT MEANS POINT-OF-VIEW)
Mark was strolling down the street with his camera in his hand. He stopped for a moment to capture the lovely picture that was Avenue A. Through his lens he saw two biker chicks making out against a brick wall, a dog peeing on a fire hydrant, and a drug dealer selling crack to a prostitute.
Mark breathed deep. Oh, he loved New York. Sure, most of the time he had no food, heat, water, or electricity, but he had his art. And he also had Roger.
Mark sighed as he thought about his best friend. Roger had been secluded and withdrawn, ever since Mimi's unfortunate death, and nothing Mark could do would bring him out of his apparent depression. This made Mark sad too, as he was secretly in love with the musician, but couldn't tell him. (A/N: OMG, Roger/Mark is so cute, liek whoa. TOTAL OTP!)
Mark sighed again. But so absorbed was he in his thoughts of how to make Roger love him, that he didn't notice the gorgeous girl standing in front of his apartment building. So he ran into her.
After they untangled themselves from one another they finally got a good look at each other's face.
"Mark?" The girl gasped.
Mark gasped too. This couldn't be Chanterelle Faith Hope Elizabeth Santiago, his childhood friend he had left behind in Scarsdale when he had turned eighteen to go to the city. But it was. He would've recognized those blue/green/gray/occasionally purple eyes anywhere.
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ROGER'S POVUnbeknownst to Mark, Roger wasn't actually withdrawn and depressed because he was mourning Mimi's death; he was actually attempting to find a way to tell Mark that he loved him. (A/N: Omigosh, Mimi such a skanky whore-slut, who would ever want to date her? She should liek die completely. OMG, Mark/Roger FOREVA!)
I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with Mark; his deep crystalline blue eyes, his feather soft blonde hair, and those geek glasses were such a turn on. Without Mark's knowledge, every night the rocker would sneak into his room and attempt to memorize those delicate features as the moonlight fell upon them.
Moments later it occurred to Roger just how creepy that actually was. But for Mark, it was worth it.
He sighed and leaned his forehead against the window, only to see a shocking image. Mark was outside on the sidewalk, talking to a girl. An amazingly beautiful and entrancing woman…
NO! No! Bad Roger! He hit the side of his head with his fist. He couldn't be having those thoughts. He was in love with Mark! And this girl could be moving in on his territory! He needed to find out what was going on.
With that thought in mind he sprinted out the loft door and down the stairs.
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CHANTERELLE FAITH HOPE ELIZABETH SANTIAGO'S POVShe couldn't believe this. When everyone else in kindergarten had shunned her because of her wealth and desire to be an artist, Mark had been her friend and accepted her. As they grew older he even encouraged her artistic abilities. That was when she knew she loved him, and she thought he had loved her too. But then when he turned eighteen, he left Scarsdale behind for good – and he left her all alone. Maybe that was why she had turned to her yoga instructor for comfort, but in her heart she had always loved Mark. And now they had a second chance.
As they stood on the sidewalk Chanterelle related her tragic story about her tragic life after he left for New York. She knew he would make a perfect father for her baby.
After she told him about how her distant parents who had never loved her had her yoga instructor publicly hanged he embraced her in a hug. She was just about to tilt her head so they could share a passionate kiss between lovers, when a voice interrupted them.
"Hey! Hey, what are you two doing? Chick, get your hands off of Mark, NOW."
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MARK'S POVMark's head was spinning. He was bewildered. Here were two people he was certain he loved more than life itself, but how could he choose? His best childhood friend who had made it so he survived high school, or his current best friend who he had helped through the pain of withdrawal, both of which were incredibly gorgeous?
As Mark contemplated his dilemma, he also listened to the two of them argue over him, apparently.
"You can't love him, because I love him. He saved my life and got me off drugs."
"Of course I love him. And I'm prettier than you."
"Oh no you didn't, girlfriend." Roger snapped his finger and placed a hand on his hip.
It occurred to Mark how much his friend sounded like an angry black woman just then.
Then Mark had an idea. "Guys?"
"I think I did just go there. What are you going to do about it?"
"Um, Roger? Chanterelle?"
"Well I certainly won't mention how fat you look right now!"
"Hey, over here!"
"OH! I can't believe you, you jerk! I'm pregnant!"
As Chanterelle raised her hand to slap Roger, Mark jumped between them. "GUYS! I know what we can do about our little love triangle problem."
Both Roger and Chanterelle stepped back and raised an eyebrow at the filmmaker.
"Haven't you guys ever heard of a threesome? And we're Bohemians, we're supposed to have odd sex lives. Duh." Mark shook his head at them.
Roger and Chanterelle thought about it for all of three seconds before shrugging and then dragging Mark inside to have hott secks, despite the fact that they're both HIV positive and risk infecting Mark. But oh well.
And they all lived happily ever after!
Except for Mimi, but that slut's already dead.
And Benny, cause he's a jerk. So he's dead too.
A/N: OMG, guys if you don't leave me at least twenty-three and a half reviews I won't write the smut or post another chappie! Okay guys!
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Words: 1400
This was written for speedrent challenge 191, which was to write badfic. It was a hilarious challenge, and some people wrote some really great (or rather horrible) stuff. Go check it out.
Oh and btw? If you got angry and rationalized your way through this fic, I was probably making fun of you.
Review, lovelies.
Dymond