I was completely convinced I was done with this story but yesterday I saw the guy I like after a long time so I was inspired.
Just to clear things up, this is after RENT, so Angel's dead.
I don't own RENT.
The steps creak familiarly under my feet as I climb to the loft. Pan left and over the railing to the first floor. I stop, looking down from the third level and rest on the worn banister. This isn't about her, though, it's about the symbolism of a spiral staircase. Yes, that's all.
God dammit why do I to fall so quickly?
Besides, I haven't fallen anyway.
I'm still on the stairs; they're actually rather private. For the 23rd and a half time today, I've stopped to think. Can't go forward. Can't go back. She - they - could be anywhere, and I'm not quite ready to share feelings right now.
Not that I have any.
I stopped all those times to think today because...because I'm a thinker and that's what we do. Think. Think long and hard about our feelings.
Except these.
These don't even exist, so there's no point in thinking about them. Nothing to examine, nothing to zoom in on.
Nothing.
Might as well continue up the stairs...
Cut to graffiti close up from 14th street then back again to the flickering lightbulb. Then maybe a stunningly pretty face...
The handle of the door is cold and metalic and my sweaty hand almost slips off as I pull.
"Pookie? Can you help me with this jar? I think it might still be good..." I hear over the grinding of the door. No! She's here! She's here with Maureen and I have nothing to say! Too late...
What's this? Did she just look at me? Like with an Oh! He's here! instead of an Oh, he's here.
Do you hear yourself?
"Hey," I say automatically. Keep it cool...
"Hello," she replies. I can see her tounge brush the back of her top teeth for a split second as she forms the "L" sound.
"Have you seen Collins?" Oh yeah, that's why I came here... "He said he was going to visit Angel this morning when we were coming back from the Life and he's not back yet..."
"He's probably still there you insensitive bonehead," Maureen says in the way that used to make me swoon.
Men don't swoon.
"Well it's been hours since anyone's seen him," I say to my ex, a feeling in my gut telling me that if I were to look at who I want to look at, I would say something stupid or turn red.
"Yeah, and he's never taken this long before," Now I have to look at her. It'd be weird if I didn't look at her now, she's talking to me. It'd be weird, right? "A-although Halloween is coming up, so he might be extra-sad."
"Oh, you're probably right..." My face is turning red, I can feel it. I need to get out of here. Think of something. "Well I'm gonna go take a shower; Roger said we've got heated water again. You can stay if you want, Roger and Mimi should be getting home soon…" Perfect. Now go, get out of there.
Maybe I should invite her...
What? You're disgusting!
But what would she say if I did ask her to join me?
Well, Maureen would laugh.
But then what?
Get a hold of yourself. See that soap? Concentrate on that.
Perhaps I should ask Roger about all this. Or Collins. If I just conveniently left out the name...
Because there is no name, no woman, no feelings, no nothing.
No nothing? Isn't that a double negative or something? Doesn't it cancel itself out and mean something instead of nothing?
Dammit, stop confusing yourself.
Still, I could ask one of them about this. What would they say?
Nothing, because there's nothing to ask about.
Remember the soap?
Okay, after I'm done with my shower, I'll go out and have a casual friend-to-friend conversation with her. I'll prove to myself that there is nothing there.
Nothing.
Was that the door opening? I'm fairly sure it was. Is she going?
Deep breaths, man.
Turn off the water. You're done.
Get out there before she leaves. Quick!
"Pookie? What are you-"
Slam!
WOOT!
Okay, this story is pretty different, huh?
I'm sorry if some things are spelled wrong. My MicrosoftWord isn't working so I had to do all of this on Notepad.
If you feel the need for an inspiring Angel fic, read We'll Cover You by one of my bestest buddies, TheFelineOfAveB.
Reveiws are my favoritest things in the world.