1Disclaimer: I don't own RENT, Converse, Myspace and such

Rock n' Roll Life

By Donna

Chapter Nine: Dirty Little Secret

Roger lay down on the white rug, clutching his burgundy pillow for dear life. He looked at his bandmates and manager, who didn't look as comfortable as he, and his girlfriend running around in the kitchen area, getting ready to leave. He decided to start the meeting, even though it was only intended for the four of them (Originally three, but seeing as how Collins had become "the fourth Treehugger", leaving him out of the loop would be cruel).

"Well," Roger said, "First off, Mark, take off your damn shoes and stay awhile."

Mark nodded, slipping off his Converse. He tried to relax.

"Two, Angel, we know you and Collins are fucking, you don't have to look like you're entirely avoiding him."

Angel rolled her eyes and leaned on Collins' back, who, like Roger, was laying across the carpet.

"And three, why do you guys all look so tense? We're just getting to know each other."

"Not everyone is able to open themselves like you, Rog," Mark said, "So cut us some slack..."

Angel nodded.

Roger sighed. "Okay, well, that's okay, Mark. We have all night. Collins and I figured that we really don't know that much about each other, because we've all met at different times. Like, I've known Mark since high school, we met Collins when we came into the city, and Angie... well, we just met you... erm... a few months ago. And I figured, seeing as how we'll be touring soon and having to hang out with each other even more than now, we should know a little bit of our backgrounds, likes, dislikes, people we want to rip the heads off of..."

Mark blinked. "God, are you on speed, too? I barely caught that."

Roger shook his head.

"Okay, then, Doctor Phil," Mark said, leaning back on the side of the couch, "Let's hear something about you."

"Sure. All you have to do is ask."

"Okay," Mark played with his glasses subconsciously, "When did you get into drugs?"

Roger groaned. This was typical of Mark. "I've been smoking since I was a sophomore, drinking since I was a freshman, and I've been using heroin for a few years... like... two or three."

"Huh. Funny. Didn't you start dating April three years..."

"Shut up, Cohen!" April screeched from the kitchen. She ran into the room, her eyes ready to burn a hole through him. "I know where you're getting at... you fucking prick! I'm leaving! Goodbye, motherfuckers!"

April stormed to the coat rack, stole Roger's old green hoodie, and swung the door open. Angel begged, "April, honey, please come here... we can talk this..." but she was too late. April slammed the door, the whole room shaking. Everyone flinched from the noise and tried to resume the meeting.

Angel shook her head and looked at Roger. "Uhm... anyway... do you have any brothers or sisters, Roger?"

"Roger shook his head. "No. My mom tried to have some more children, but they all miscarried. Why? Do you have any?"

Angel nodded. "I got a little sister. Uhm... yeah."

Roger tried to make eye contact with Angel. Angel curled up, refusing to look at him. "What are you doing? Stop it..." she whispered.

"I'm curious," Roger said, "Do your parents... know?"

"Know about what?"

"About anything. The drag. The band. Collins."

"Oh... well... they know about the drag. And... that's it. I think."

"What do you mean 'I think?'"

"I only talk to my grandmother. I don't know if she tells the rest of the family."

"Ah, so they're trying to pretend that you don't exist. Nice."

Angel shrugged. "I guess. Uncreative, right?"

Roger sat up. "You don't have to answer this, I've pretty much put you on the spot, but, uhm, what was your relationship with your father?"

Angel laughed bitterly.

"That bad, huh?"

"Well... we were okay for awhile. I played soccer for a long time. But as soon as I hit high school it was all down hill. You know what I mean?"

Roger nodded. "Sadly, I do."

"Let me guess, your father disapproved of your 'rocker lifestyle?'"

"Oh, he just didn't like me in general. I'd have to poof into a bottle of vodka for him to like me."

Mark made a strange squeaking noise.

"Mark?" everyone asked.

"I remember his dad... nasty son of a bitch..." Mark mumbled, "Angie, he was a tall sonuvabitch. Like, you see how Roger's pretty tall, it's all from him. He had that dirty blonde hair like Roger's, but he had dog shit brown eyes."

Roger laughed. "Yep! That's him in a nutshell!"

Angel nodded.

"Baby, can I ask you something?" Collins asked, poking Angel's thigh.

"What, Tom?" Angel asked.

"Can you tell Mark and Roger about your grandma?"

Angel smiled. "Of course. She's really teeny, but she's really tough. She's known about me for a long time... she claims she's always known that I was... well... gay. One time she nearly beat up some guys because they were making fun of me."

"Oh, awesome!" Mark said, laughing, "I wanna meet your kickass granny!"

Angel giggled. "I need to get her to live here in the US... she's in Puerto Rico. I'm going to get her a house or something when I get the money. I have her phone number if you want to call her... she's not the most fluent in English, but I think you'll manage."

"Don't you have to pay long-distance? Hell no!" Roger joked. He snickered and said, "Ah, I'm kidding. I'll talk to her. We'll have a ball."

Mark took everything in carefully. He looked down at his hands. He was so... normal. Roger's father, in case no one could tell, was an alcoholic. Angel... He was surprised that with Angel's turmoil she didn't throw herself off a cliff, to say the least. But something in her head kept her going. Whatever it was. He slipped, "I can't believe we're so fucked up..."

"Don't say that, Mark," Collins whispered, "It's not that we're 'fucked up.' We just... well... every artist has pain."

Angel nodded in agreement. She leaned into Collins and kissed him. She crawled over to Roger and Mark and kissed them as well.

Roger, who was blushing almost as much as Mark, stared at her for a moment. "What was that for?"

Angel shrugged. "It's Angel Dumott-Schunard for, 'Holy fuck, I think you saved my life.'" She flashed a smile. She looked at Mark, who was beet red. "Oh God! Are you okay?"

Mark nodded. "Oh... yeah... Collins?"

Collins laughed. "I don't care. She's a little girl with a big heart."

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Subatomic Treehugger's Blog Singles! Videos! Roger! Oh my!

guess what, bitches!

were filming in CALIFORNIA :)))))))))

im chillin with mark n collins in this trailer. theyre messin up angel as we speak. excuse me, doing make-up to angel. mark is looking over my shoulder. they said im not allowed to tell you guys what the video is about because of some legal thing... I dun get it... maybe you do.

IT'S OUR FIRST VIDEO! YAAAAAY:DDDDDDDD

-roger

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Roger looked up from his laptop, his eyes wide. "A...Angie? What are you doing with that shovel?"

Angel swung her prop around. "We're making fun of punk and scremo, remember? What better way to do it than prance around with shovels and dress all in black and red!"

Roger noted Angel's red mask that was painted over her eyes. "I'm gonna have to do that?"

Angel nodded. "You'll look like Gerard Way!"

"Oh great..."

"Where's Markie?"

Roger looked around. Mark had somehow disappeared. "Mark?"

They noticed the bathroom door opened a crack. "Go away."

"Oh, right," Roger said, "He's freaking out because they're turning him emo again."

"Uhm... Markie?" Angel asked, "You're always emo."

"That's mean!" Collins said from the other side of the trailer.

"It's true!" Angel exclaimed, "All he does it go 'Oh! My life sucks! Uh! Uh! Hairflip!'" She began to spin around dramatically, moaning.

Roger flinched. "Angie... please don't do that..."

Mark opened the door and looked at her. "I hate you all."

Angel, Roger, and Collins smiled nervously.

"Stop looking at me!" Mark yelled, jumping into the bathroom again.

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