No Day But Today
DISCLAIMER: I do not own RENT or anything affiliated with it.
Mark leaned over his editing equipment, working in a frenzied silence. Collins sat on the couch grading papers, and Mimi and Roger were still asleep. "What are you working on?" Collins asked. Mark shrugged.
"Just editing some stuff I shot… no big deal," Mark said. It was a lie, but once again he wasn't ready to share his new film with his friends. He'd even turned off the sound so that no one would hear the secrets he'd told his camera. He didn't want them to know yet. After a while, Collins looked at his watch and sighed.
"I've gotta get to my office… you'll be okay until they decide to wake up?" he asked, gathering his papers.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Mark replied, not looking up from what he was doing. He watched the scene from a few nights before, when Maureen had turned the camera on him. For once, he decided to keep what she'd shot in. He could always take it out later. As soon as he heard Collins leave, he turned off his equipment and got out his camera. He climbed up the flight of stairs to the roof, his coat pulled tightly around him. He set up the camera and stared into it.
"The chemo didn't work. I didn't think it would. I'm having a bone marrow transplant… my sister Cindy's the donor. I start chemo again tomorrow." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm scared… even more so than last time. This time I know what to expect." He turned and stared off at the buildings surrounding him.
"Grandma and Uncle Oscar are coming to see me this afternoon. I'm meeting them for lunch at the Plaza." He smirked at the thought. "I have to tell them… they don't know yet. I was going to wait… I didn't want them to worry. But now… They have to know in case something happens." He sighed and turned back to the camera.
"Wouldn't it be more humane to just let them believe it's a freak thing if I…" Mark began. He found that he couldn't finish his sentence. He looked down at the ground. "I can't think about that now." He shut the camera off and made his way back downstairs quickly, nearly running over Roger as he entered the loft.
"Mark?" Roger asked. He followed the smaller man back to his bedroom. Mark put the camera away and began to change, trying to find something fairly decent to wear. "What's up?"
"I'm late," Mark replied.
"For what?"
"Lunch… Grandma and Uncle Oscar," Mark said, throwing an outfit onto the bed. He began to change clothes.
"Do you want someone to go with you?" Roger asked. Mark shook his head.
"This I've got to do by myself."
Mark made his way into the Plaza and back towards the restaurant his grandmother had told him. "Can I help you, sir?"
"I'm looking for my grandmother… Fischer," Mark said.
"This way, sir." Mark followed the man back to a table near the kitchen doors. His grandmother and uncle were already seated, waiting on him.
"Thank you," Mark said, hurrying over to his family. He gave his grandmother a quick hug before sitting down across the table from her.
"Yeshula, what on Earth did you do to your hair?" his grandmother asked.
"It's a long story, Grandma," Mark replied. She just nodded. The waiter came by and they ordered before she brought it up again.
"Alright, you've had a chance to catch your breath, now I want to hear what happened to your hair," she said. Mark nodded and took a deep breath.
"I've been sick," he said. "I found out a few months ago… I have cancer." They just stared at him for a moment. "Someone please say something."
"What is there to say?" his uncle asked. Mark could tell he was upset, though he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason. "How long ago is a few months?"
"Three. I start a second round of chemo tomorrow," Mark told him.
"And you just now decided to tell us?" his uncle asked. He sighed.
"I didn't know what to say, Uncle Oscar. I didn't want you all to worry," Mark replied. His uncle got up and walked out, leaving him alone with his grandmother. "I'm sorry, Grandma," Mark whispered. He started to get up, but she stopped him.
"Don't be sorry for things you can't control, Yeshula. He's just upset… he did just lose his sister, you know," she reminded him. Mark just nodded.
"How can I forget? I lost my mother to the same disease that's about to kill me."
"SPEAK."
"Hello? Oscar, I think this is the wrong number…"
"Grandma?" Mark asked, getting out of bed. He looked at the clock by his bed. Five AM? Fuck. He walked as quickly as he could and picked up the telephone, praying she was still there. "Hello?"
"Yeshula? Is that you?" his grandmother asked.
"Yeah, Grandma. What's up?" he asked, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He walked over and sat down in the green chair that was really mostly made of duct tape. He began picking at a small hole next to his leg.
"Oh, thank goodness we caught you," she said.
"Grandma, it's five in the morning," he told her, smiling. It was just like her to call without looking at the clock.
"Oh… right"
A/n: Okay so yeah, the end is just some randomness… I thought it would be funny.