Okay, this is my first RENT fic, so I say, Hello! I am currently rather new to the idea of RENT fiction, and though I know that the whole "Maureen gets dumped by Joanne and turns to Mark" fiction seems to be in abundance, I don't plan this fic to be that way, though it may appear to be only that at first glance. And also, to try and narrow down the confusion, this chapter is going to switch between Mark and Maureen's POVs, separated by little dots. :D

But as this is my first of this type of fic, reviews would be great. And also this is my first attempt to write in the "I/me" form, when normally I stick to "him/her," so tell me also what you think of that.

Walking out into the warm afternoon sunlight, I paused. People were rushing by on the streets, talking and laughing and hurrying to business meetings in intimidating office buildings just around the corner. The air seemed warm and inviting, a subtle promise of hope that contributed to the atmosphere—making the woman across the street walk with more pride, and the young investor down the lane smile indiscreetly at everyone.

I felt out of place in this land of hopes and dreams, all of mine having just been stamped before my eyes. I set off down the sidewalk, weaving between pedestrians and biting my lip. Trying to escape this land of foreign dreams in which I didn't belong.

• • • • •

Reaching the loft, I promptly flung myself unceremoniously upon the downtrodden couch, emitting a dramatic sigh. "No place like home."

"You're telling me." Roger stretched and made his way towards the kitchen. "Want a beer?"

"Please."

Roger flopped onto the couch beside me. "Here, Marky. Drink wisely—it's the last one."

Taking a long sip, I sighed. "Think Maureen and Joanne will get over this one?"

Roger looked over at me carefully. After a moment he said, "They always do."

"Yeah. And Maureen always leaves again. Speaking of, she hasn't called yet. Think she's out getting wasted?"

"Probably. I'll look for her when I go out. I'm supposed to meet Mimi and Collins in ten," he said, glancing at his watch, "wanna come?"

My eyes flicked to the window and the darkening sky. "Nah. She might call."

A shadow of something passed over Roger's face before he turned to go. "All right. See you tonight."

I mumbled a reply as he left, banging the door closed behind him. After a moment, growing restless, I retrieved the camera from the table. The last few clips played back; flashes of champagne glasses and smiling faces. "So much for a wedding video," I mumbled, switching off the camera and returning it to the table.

"SPEEEEEEEAK!" The voices resonated about the quiet stillness of the room, jerking me from an uncomfortable sleep.

"Mark?" At the sound of Maureen's voice I shook the sleepiness from my head, rising and wobbling to the phone. "M-Mark? It's Maureen…"

"Hey Maureen."

"I need a place to stay Marky…Pookie…" her voice slurred and trailed off—she had quite obviously had too much to drink.

"Maureen, where are you?"

"At the—uhm. By the Life Café. At that bar…"

"I'll be there in a minute."

Grabbing my jacket, I hurried down the stairs of the loft and out the door. The night air whipped at my hands and I spent a moment regretting not having grabbed a thicker coat.

• • • • •

"Hey babe. Wanna dance?"

A whiff of whiskey-polluted air rushed into my face as a man fumbled into the stool beside me. I was in absolutely no condition to put up with this right now.

Shooting him a small glance, and trying but failing to mask my disgust, I uttered a small "No."

I noticed suddenly the rough hand trailing along my thigh. "Come on, baby, let's get out of here." His beard grazed against my ear as he spoke, sending tight shivers down my neck. Pulling away, I stumbled out of the stool and against the wall, using it as support to clamber out the door.

Mark arrived a few minutes later, looking shocked. "Maureen, honey, why are you outside? You'll freeze." He flung his jacket about my shoulders and I felt a hand trail around my back, helping me along. "Let's get you home."

"There was this asshole… wanted to dance…" I managed weakly.

"Shh. It's alright."

After a few minutes of silence we reached the apartment, Mark half-carrying my up the stairs and leading me to the couch.

"I'll go get you some blankets," he offered gently, and I nodded. After a few moments he returned, wrapping a blanket around my back and taking my hands in his to warm them.

"Mark?" He looked up gently. "Do you think it's over with Joanne?"

I heard my voice break, and he pulled me into his arms. I sobbed into his shoulder, the tears coming in waves, overpowering all thought. After a while the crying subsided, and I forgot the meaning of them, forgot everything outside the comforting embrace.

Mark pulled away and wiped the tears from my cheeks. "You okay?"

The moonlight was glinting off of his eyes, which were full of concern. I collapsed into him, pushing him back onto the couch and pressing my lips to his.

For a moment he seemed surprised, but eventually gave in. I could tell he wanted it, and there was a strong desire in me to feel loved and needed. And Mark seemed to love me at that moment more than Joanne ever had, seemed to need me more than Joanne had ever needed.

And I needed that. So I let him.

- - -

Roger whistled in surprise as he entered the door, seeing Mark and Maureen asleep together on the couch in various states of undress. "Didn't see that one coming."