Disclaimer: although there's been mention of Mark showing up in my mailbox, he hasn't arrived yet. Sadly, I don't own Roger either. Or Mimi. Or anything else having to do with Rent. But if you want to mail any of this stuff to me, feel free.

Author's Note: I know it gets a teency bit cheesy towards the end. I think it was kind of needed, and I promise it won't all be like that. Since this is a finished story I've already posted on LJ, i'm probably not gonna put author's notes at the beginning of each chapter, just know that the pairings get kind of crazy in this one, but i promise it will all make sense. lol...it's just a lot of hinted stuff. and i promise it as a Mark/Roger story. even though there's a lot of Mark/OC

Mark wasn't sure when it had started. He could barely remember a time before his mind had been consumed with thoughts of Roger. When had the lines become blurred? When had he starting aching for Roger to be more than his best friend?

There had been times when he'd though they'd had "moments". These moments always gave Mark cause for hope, though Mark was forever uncertain as to whether or not this was a good thing; though Mark was forever uncertain as to whether or not he made up these moments in his mind.

There was one moment he could pinpoint in particular. He was sitting on the couch in the loft. Across from him sat Roger in a chair, sporting April in his lap. The couple was having an intimate moment, with Roger softly placing kisses on April's cheek and jaw line before moving down and gently massaging her neck with his tongue. At first the couple seemed to be in their own world, and Mark felt a bit awkward sitting in the room as it went on. But Mark couldn't help but stare at Roger, lovingly kissing April's neck, wishing Roger was ravishing him instead.

Suddenly their world was broken when Roger looked up. He continued with what he was doing, but he was no longer concentrated on that. His eyes met with Mark's and Mark couldn't help but think he saw longing in them. Longing. For Mark. The two of them kept their eyes locked like that for a long time, all the while April sat oblivious, head tilted and eyes close in ecstasy. It had seemed so surreal, and Mark wondered on many occasions if he had imagined Roger looking up into his eyes completely. But no, it was too vivid. It had happened.

But Mark never acted on his passion. No, that was too risky. Mark preferred to sit behind his camera and record Roger. If he kept himself out of the picture, it was almost as if Roger was a fictional character. It was easier to love a fictional character and to watch him love someone else, than to love someone real with a longing and desire that was almost painful. Scratch that. It was painful. Really painful. When Mark let himself realize that Roger was a real human being, and that Roger had love, passion, and desire for someone else, the agony he felt was unexplainable.

And Roger always had something to be preoccupied with. Roger had April. When April died, Roger had heroin withdrawal. When that was done with, Roger had Mimi. Mark had removed himself enough from loving Roger, the real person, that he was able to let his love for Roger slip away. He was over Roger now. There would always be something there, but in between falling in love with Maureen, and watching Roger fall in love with April and Mimi, he'd gotten over him. The relief he felt from it at times was remarkable.

And of course, there was another moment that stuck out in Mark's head. It did have something to do with Roger, but not directly. Mark knew it was cliché, but he couldn't help but make "it's funny the way things turn out" his new creed.

One night Mark was at one of Roger's gigs. Roger had a new band and they were incredible, though Mark particularly appreciated the fact that none of them were drug addicts. Mark was sitting at the bar, away from the overwhelming crowd, just listening and staring. It had been a while since he had stared at Roger like that; since he had let himself stare at Roger like that. When he realized what he was doing, he stopped himself and glanced around.

Mark noticed a girl sitting a few stools over, entranced in Roger the way he had been. He was feeling bold, and he needed to do something to keep his eyes away from Roger. He moved over a couple of stools and sat next to her. "Beautiful, isn't he?" He asked. Okay, so maybe it was a pretty half-ass attempt to get his mind off of his best friend.

But the girl didn't hear him. Either that, or she had ignored him. Mark was left in an awkward situation. It was embarrassing to repeat what he said, in case she had actually heard, but it was also uncomfortable to sit next to a stranger in silence as she stared at the man of his dreams. Suddenly she flinched, blinking and darting her eyes. "I'm sorry, what?"

Mark was taken aback. "…Oh. You heard me?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just sort of spaced. I do that a lot." She giggled nervously, obviously embarrassed. Mark thought it was cute. "Did you ask me something?"

Mark noticed she was fidgeting. It reminded him a lot of himself in social situations, but in this moment he felt oddly confident. "I said, 'isn't he beautiful?'"

"Mm-hm." She said in agreement. "His voice is just…godly, almost." She looked up and smiled at him. Her smile was bright and caused her brilliantly deep blue eyes to light up. She was pretty.

"Godly." Mark said, smiling back. "He would probably agree with that." He laughed.

"I'm Anna." She said, putting her hand out.

"Mark." He replied, taking her hand in his to complete the gesture. "Wow, handshake. I think you're the first girl I've ever met to shake my hand as an introduction." He jested, laughing lightly.

"Does that mean I failed some sort of test?"

"Not at all. Actually, I think it's kind of cute." This got Anna to blush.

Mark and Anna talked through the rest of the gig. Afterwards, they went out for a bite to eat with Roger and Mimi. And that was the start of something beautiful. Mark and Anna, they just seemed to fit.

Anna was a little bit younger, a senior at NYU studying to be a psychologist. She was a singer and actress at heart, but she had taken the more sensible route due to her own inner practicality and the lack of support from her parents. Mark hardly ever noticed the age difference. Anna was intelligent and mature, and she had this incredible lightheartedness about her that Mark didn't think had anything to do with her age. It wasn't long before Mark was calling Anna the best thing that ever happened to him.

Anna even got along with Roger, which was something Mark had hoped for but wasn't exactly expecting. Roger could be difficult. But Anna and Roger had instantly bonded, cracking jokes about Mark's quirks and talking about music. Anna and Roger wrote songs together; they sang duets to his guitar. Their voices blended so beautifully – so powerfully. Roger was impressed that she knew so much about rock music, and Anna was impressed that the rock god she'd seen on stage had such a kindness about him.

Everything seemed right with Anna. Mark barely seemed to think about Roger in a more than friends way anymore, for the most part. Things were going good.

Mark certainly hadn't been talking about Roger's voice when he'd asked Anna if Roger was beautiful that night, but he would never tell her that. In the long run, he was sure glad she had interpreted it that way. It's funny, the way things turn out.