Probably should have mentioned this before, but it slipped my mind. 1) My friend is also writing this with me, so she deserves credit! 2) We don't own the RENT characters, but we do own Morgan and Anne. We created them. WE HAVE PLAYED GOD! BUAHAHAHA! Okay, I'm done being spastic now. This is what happens when I don't get enough sleep. Or, you know, all the time. Whatever. Enjoy!
I chuckled at myself, while I walked through the park, absentmindedly looking for familiar faces. I cranked up my camera and paned around slowly, taking the whole of the park. I saw an old blond woman with about a ton of makeup plastered on her face and an outfit so skanky even Mimi wouldn't wear standing against a tree smoking. I lowered the camera to get a better look at what she was doing. She was blowing smoke rings and winking at me, dear lord. I turned around, still clutching my camera to my chest, and breathed out slowly, hoping the woman wasn't still making eyes at me. Suddenly I felt something knock against my feet, sending me tumbling forward into a heap on the ground.
"Owww..." moaned a familiar voice.
I looked up to see Anne, sitting against a tree, sketchbook in her hand and a box of oil pastels next to her. She rubbed her head; her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a long scarf this time.
"Well, hello stranger." She greeted, watching me as I slowly stood up. I extended my hand to help her up but she didn't take it.
"Nice to see you again," I said, watching her as she lowered her eyes to her pastels and searched for a color.
"You too," She picked up a brown, close to the color of my coat. She glanced up at me before coloring. She then shook her head and closed her drawing pad.
"Would you like to walk with me?" She asked, rising off the ground and hugging her art supplies to her chest.
"Sure…" I answered, looking around to see if Morgan was anywhere near me. I sighed in defeat, "Why not?"
"So," Anne asked, trying to break the somewhat awkward silence, "Did you find your sister?"
I sighed. "Yes," said, "But she's mad at me. I do care about her."
"Yeah," Anne mumbled, staring at the horizon, "I wouldn't really know, seeing as I'm an only child, but my parents are the same way, which is why I ran away."
I cringed and stopped suddenly. What had been an innocent conversation had taken a nasty turn. Why was I being compared to parents all fucking day? I was NOT a parent and didn't intend on being one for a long time. It just so happened that a few lives took a wrong turn and I was stuck babysitting my little sister forever and always.
"Did I say something wrong?" Anne asked nervously.
Yes, I thought. "No," I said reassuringly, "It's been nice talking to you, but I have to go find my sister…again. Maybe we can talk again sometime."
"Yeah, that'd be nice," she said disappointedly, "See you later!"
I walked a little away. I turned to look back at her. She stood in the same spot staring at her pad of paper. I turned away to walk again.
"Mark! Wait!" she called desperately.
I turned to see her rip a sheet of paper out of her book and handed it to me. She kept her head down, her choppy brown bangs covering her face. "I didn't like it anyways." she mumbled.
I didn't really have time (or hands for that matter) to look at the drawing Anne gave me, so I just stuffed it in my jacket pocket, instantly forgetting about it. I decided that I should start heading back to the loft since it was getting dark, and the temperature was dropping steadily. I thought back to Anne and her thin jacket, hoping she was warm enough. But I barely know her, why do I care? I thought, trying to find something to think about that didn't have to do with the blue-eyed girl.
I arrived at the loft without any recollections of how I got there. The faint smell of clam chowder tinged the cold surroundings, giving them a strangely homey feel. I sniffed the air to make sure I wasn't imagining things then pushed open the door and peeked inside.
There was Roger, sprawled across the couch with a bowl on his lap. "Your sister is awesome." He said, shoveling a spoonful of whatever was in the bowl into his mouth.
"Hi Mark!" Morgan said. I turned to find her standing behind me with two bowls of clam chowder in her arms. She held one out to me and smiled a sweet, innocent smile, which made her look even more suspicious than normal. I mean, Morgan, innocent…don't make me laugh!
I took the bowl in my hands; the warmth of the soup immediately defrosted my frozen palms. I placed my camera on the table and sat next to Roger. "You didn't steal this did you?" I asked, taking another look at Morgan's smiling face.
"No silly!" She giggled. I reached up to feel her forehead, to make sure she didn't have a fever or anything.
"Your unusually chipper today."
Morgan smile broadened. "You'll find out about that soon enough, but about the food. Did I forget to tell you that mom and dad left me all their money?" My jaw dropped so far, I wouldn't be surprised if it hit Mimi in the head. "… I didn't? Oops…"
"But…but…" I whined, "Why didn't I get any money?"
Morgan shrugged and wrapped her arms tightly around her thin body. I smiled and draped my jacket around her shoulders. Morgan tugged it on and stuffed her hands in the pocket. A look of shock flooded her face. "And what might this be?" she asked mischievously.
I cringed as she pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. Shit. It's Anne's drawing.
"A girl's phone number?" Roger asked hopefully, jumping over the back of the couch to see what Morgan was holding.
"No, it's not a phone number…unless it's a hieroglyphic phone number. It's a painting." Morgan muttered.
"I don't think she painted it," I said, taking the drawing from my sister, "Hey! She drew my camera, and my hands…and my scarf…and my jacket." I searched the carefully crafted portrait to see if I missed anything.
"She signed it," Roger said, pointing to a scribble under the left hand, "Anne McGee."
"Ha, she said she didn't like it."
"Who would? It's a picture of you," Morgan said, laughing, "Anyway, Roger and I are gonna go get food for dinner."
"Can I come?" I asked hopefully.
"NO!" they both said quickly and Morgan continued, "You, um, wouldn't want to go. Yeah, um, it's going to be really boring, that's it. I'm just, um, dragging Roger to the, um, the…drugstore, that's right, the drugstore. Um, it's that time of month again. You wouldn't be interested. Well, um, BYE!" And with that Morgan ran out the door, dragging Roger with her.
"My sister is insane…" I mused. I made my way to the fire escape and watched as my sister and my roommate exited the building, laughing and having fun.
I threw myself on the couch, staring at the drawing Anne gave me. I folded it and put it in my picket again before promptly falling asleep.
