Again, we don't own RENT or any of its characters. Also, I would like to apologize for grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. Can't fix them all, sorry. Comments would be nice. Thanks for reading!
I woke to the weird feeling of something tickling my face, as well as hearing a high-pitched giggle, followed by chuckling.
"We have to get Marky-Warky all dressed up for his date tonight!" someone said bubbly.
"My what now?" I asked without moving a bit.
"Oh nothing," a voice said mischievously, "Anyway, it's time for breakfast!"
I walked into the bathroom and glanced nonchalantly up at the mirror. After a moment of thought, I screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU TWO DO TO ME!"
I splashed a bit of water on my face and scrubbed as hard as I could. Eventually all the makeup came off, but my cheeks were red due to an allergic reaction to the blush Morgan and Roger put on me.
"You look good with a little color in your cheeks, Mark," Roger said, holding a bowl of Capin' Crunch.
I glared at both Morgan and Roger equally before grabbing a bowl myself. I pulled the drawing out of my pocket and looked at it again. Morgan giggled. "What?" I asked. My skin was burning up thanks to all the makeup, which made her laugh harder.
"Nothing!" she laughed, almost in hysterics. I rolled my eyes and went back to eating breakfast. Morgan occasionally would look up, attempt to stifle a laugh, and return to her cereal. Though I was mad, I couldn't help but notice how desperately she clutched her thin jacket. It was cold in here, but it wasn't our fault! Well, yes it was, but still.
"Mark, I finally realized why it's so damn cold in here." Morgan mumbled.
"Two things," I replied, "One, don't swear. Two, why is it so 'damn' cold in here?"
Without looking up from her cereal, Morgan said, "Because you're too sucky of a photographer to make any money."
I felt my cheeks burn (even more than before with the makeup) and turn red with anger. "Two things," I said, "One, I am not a photographer, but a director. Two, I'M NOT SUCKY AT IT!"
"Then why is it so cold in here? Why am I providing all the food?"
"Because Mom and Dad like you more. They seem to love ignorant brats that are completely self-centered! I had a grand old life here, and then you barged in without warning! Just get out! I never wanted a sister! I just put up with you because the 'rents made me!"
Still steaming, my cold heart melted when I saw Morgan's face. She was looking at me with wide eyes. Unshed tears blurred the green hue I loved so much. Her lips formed a gentle hill. Much to my dismay, a single tear escaped and slid down her cheek. Covering her now streaming eyes, Morgan ran out of the room.
"That was cold," Roger whispered as I headed towards the door. What had I gotten myself into?
I grabbed my coat and walked out the door. It was getting dark by then, and the streetlamps were just turning on. Making my way to the park, I heard Anne's voice behind me.
"It's getting late. Shouldn't a girl your age be at home?"
I turned to see Anne and Morgan sitting together on a bench under a streetlamp. Although it was below freezing and windy that night, Anne was just wearing a thin sweatshirt. She shivered in the breeze, her arm around Morgan's huddled body.
"Morgan!" I yelled. For a split second I could have sworn she smiled at me, but it mutated into a death glare and she turned back to Anne.
"I told you he'd come for me." She mumbled.
Anne laughed. "I'd like to say it's nice to see you again, but considering the circumstance, that doesn't sound like the right thing to say."
I smiled and said, "C'mon Morgan, let's go home," I yanked Morgan to her feet and she winced in pain.
"Ow," she moaned, gently clutching her ankle, "That hurt!"
"Oh, you're hurt," I mumbled, still angry with her from earlier, "We'd better get some ice on that."
"No shit Sherlock," Morgan muttered, sitting back down on the bench, huddling next to Anne for warmth.
"Morgan, don't swear," I said, annoyance strongly weaved in my voice.
"Well there you are!"
I turned around to see Roger standing there with her arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his face. Buy when he saw Morgan cradling her ankle and biting her lip in pain, the smirk disappeared.
"Mind fixing me up while Beauty and the Beast recollect on old times?" Morgan asked Roger. He nodded and they disappeared in the darkness.
"You cold?" I asked, watching a tremor make its way through Anne's body.
She nodded. "Yeah, just a little."
I took off my jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "That better?" I asked. I kept my hands on her shoulders and hoped she wouldn't mind.
"Thanks…" she mumbled.
Suddenly, I heard a Morgan-sounding voice from the bushes say, "Yeah, ow. Roger, that's my leg. MY LEG DOESN'T GO THAT WAY!"
I sighed and said, "Doesn't a certain somebody need to be taking a certain somebody else to get ice?"
Roger and Morgan rolled out of the bushes and began walking sheepishly away.
"LIMP!" Anne shouted right in my ear, causing me to wince.
"What the hell?" I asked, covering my ears.
"Oh, Morgan's walking with a limp." She replied.
I turned back around to see that Morgan was, indeed, limping. However, Roger seemed to notice and picked her up bridal style. "Hey, Mark!" he called, "We're meeting at the Life Café in an hour."
"Yeah! So be there or be square!" Morgan added, "You have to introduce me to all your friends!"
"Life Café?" Anne asked curiously, "I've never been there before."
"Then I insist upon you joining us!" I stated.
"Very well Sir Knight," she said.
I took her arm and escorted her to my bike. "Your chariot awaits m' lady." I said nobly, bowing to her slightly.
"Thank you kind sir," she said gratefully, curtsying. I helped her onto the handlebars and we rode off. And if there had been a sunset, we sure as hell would have ridden off into it.
To be continued…
