A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed the story! I truly appreciate your kind words. This chapter is from the POV of Mark, who was surprisingly hard to write as he the character that I most identify with. Anyway, enjoy and please review with any thoughts/comments/criticisms. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Everything but my surprise at the end belongs to the great Jonathan Larson.

To put it bluntly, Mark was not in a good mood. Alone with his thoughts as he recklessly rode his bike through Alphabet City (not really caring if he mowed down any pedestrians in the process), he couldn't help but to replay the events of his horrendous morning.

"Today was supposed to be a great day," Mark thought bitterly as he turned left onto Avenue B (disregarding the flashing pedestrian sign and the elderly woman attempting to make her way across the street). He was supposed to have had an appointment with some corporate bigwig who had seen his documentary at a local film festival, and way maybe interested in shopping it around to some major film companies. Mark, excited about the prospects of "Today 4 U" being produced, had been all ready to make his presentation at 9 A.M. sharp. That is until his piece of crap alarm clock that he had purchased at a street fair a few weeks back, failed.

Instead of a high-pitched incessant buzzing, Mark had awoken to the sound of Roger yelling "Mark, didn't you have that meeting with that yuppie film producer this morning?"

Bolting out of his bed and into the main area of the loft, an extremely disoriented Mark stared at a nonchalant Roger who was sipping some coffee and reading the paper on the couch. "What time is it?" Mark questioned in an oddly calm and controlled voice.

Roger glanced up from his copy of "The Village Voice" and answered "noon".

"Holy shit," Mark yelled as he ran back into his room. As he frantically dug through a pile of clothes on the floor, Mark cursed his crappy alarm clock and street fairs that sold them. Finally finding a fairly decent outfit that wasn't too wrinkled or smelly, Mark grabbed his bike and raced out the door, not even registering Roger's call of "good luck".

Mark arrived at his destination (a huge building with corporate drones swarming in and out of the revolving doors) sweaty and out of breath, only to be greeted by an extremely bored looking receptionist. She barely acknowledged Mark's frantic explanation as to why he had missed his meeting with a bland "Mr. Gillespie has gone to lunch. Somebody from his office shall contact you later if he wishes to reschedule the meeting."

So, that left Mark peddling angrily back to the loft, sweating in the hundred-degree weather. As he dragged his bike up the endless flights of stairs to the loft, Mark prayed that no one would be there to meet him. The last thing he needed was Roger or Mimi asking him how his meeting had gone. "No," he thought. "I prefer to wallow in my hatred of the world alone."

Mark should have guessed however, that nothing would go his way today, as he opened the door to the loft and was greeted by the sight of not just Roger and Mimi, but Collins, Maureen, and Joanne too. A general chorus of "Hey Mark" sounded as he shoved his bike to the side and entered the room. Not really in the mood for pleasantries of even basic greetings, Mark just stared at the group (who were annoyingly happy about something) and asked, "What's going on?"

Sensing his bad mood, they all glanced at each other and then returned their gaze to Mark. This served to piss him off even more. They all knew something and he didn't and Mark was really not in the mood to play any freaking guessing games. "Well," he said as he moved closer to the group who were gathered around the couch and the beat-up coffee table. "Just come out with it. What are you guys so damn happy about?"

Mimi and Roger who were sitting together on the end of the couch, looked at each other as if daring the other to speak first. Finally, Roger answered, "I asked Mimi to marry me last night."

"And I said yes," chimed in a nervous looking Mimi as she grabbed Roger's hand.

Mark's brain didn't register this at first. He just stood there and looked at his group of friends, each of which was looking progressively nervous by the second. At last, he realized that he should say something. "Congrats guys," Mark managed. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks man," Roger answered, knowing that Mark was anything but happy about the news.

"Uh…I've got to get going…I…uh…forgot…that I…uh…I have to…I got to go," Mark stammered lamely as he turned and left the loft.

"Great," Mark thought as he slowly walked back down the many flights of stairs. "That's just great." It wasn't that he wasn't happy for Roger and Mimi, because he was. They were two of his best friends and he knew that they belonged together. It was just that he had already experienced failure today. He didn't need to be reminded of his failure to find a "significant other".

He couldn't help it, but the news of Roger and Mimi's engagement had brought up his feelings of loneliness that he usually suppressed deep inside himself. But after the day he had, he didn't have the energy to put them in check and join his friends in celebrating. Absorbed in his own self-pity, Mark didn't notice the girl that was walking right in front of the building and crashed right into her as he exited the loft. "Oh jeez," Mark spluttered. "I'm sorry, I…" but he stopped there.

Mark, for the first time, looked at the person he had bumped into. She was a young girl, maybe about 20 or 21, with long shiny black hair and piercing dark brown eyes.

"No, it's fine," the girl answered as she bent down to pick up her bag that had dropped. "I'm just really having an awful day."

"Me too," Mark answered immediately. "It must be going around the city. I'm Mark by the way."

"Isabelle," the girl answered. "But everyone calls me Ella," she said as she extended her hand.

Mark grabbed her hand and instantly felt goose bumps travel up his arms. "Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all," Mark thought to himself.