It's me again, back with number three! Thank you guys for the reviews, I'm really starting to like writing this one, and I hope you guys will keep liking reading it.
Disclaimer: RENT is not my brainchild. Nor are the characters my brainchildren either.
Mark poured the coffee evenly into two mugs, careful not to spill a drop. As predicted, he hadn't slept an wink that night, and around seven that morning he'd carefully removed himself from underneath Maureen, who had sort of rolled over on him during the night. He'd forgotten that she slept like a rock, and tended to be a bit of a violent sleeper. There was silence in the apartment, save for the tap-tap of rain drops hitting the windows. The rain had started at about 4 AM. Maureen, of course, hadn't even taken notice, but he had. Rain had always been a comfort to him. In the summers when he was younger, he would sat out in the warm, humid thunderstorms, letting the droplets coat him in a protective barrier of water against all the evil in the world. When he was thirteen though, he had been worried his mother thought he was going crazy and had forced himself to sit and observe from behind the window panes. It wasn't the same. Around seven, when he'd gotten up, the rain had been pouring in torrents, filling his mind with the deafening noise and allowing him to think of nothing else. But now it had slowed to a depressing drizzle and he was desperate for another distraction.
Just as he went to pick up the cups and carry one in to Maureen in hopes that she was awake now, there was a sharp and impatient rapping on the door. Joanne, he figured. There wasn't really anyone else left that it could be. Surely enough, as he pulled the heavy door aside, Joanne was standing before him, checking her watch as she impatiently tapped her foot on the metal flooring. She looked up and a disappointed look crossed her face. She'd been hoping Maureen would answer the door, Mark assumed.
"Hi, Mark, I..." she attempted to formulate some more words. Mark had noticed in the recent years that Joanne wasn't very good at comforting people. All she'd ever done for Maureen was rub her back and tell her it would be all right. He had wondered how Maureen could bear it, that phrase had to get old at some point.
"Come in," he said, stepping aside. She'd looked so desperate for words, he'd figured he'd save her. There wasn't anything she could say, anyway, so why make her try? Relieved, Joanne stepped through the door. "There's coffee on the counter if you want some. Maureen's still asleep," he monotoned. He would talk, but he wouldn't say anything unnecessary. As if on cue, Maureen stumbled out of Mark's room, much to Joanne's dismay. It suddenly occurred to Mark that Maureen had been in his bed that night, and the initial assumption from that would upset Joanne.
"I slept on the floor," he offered quickly, not wanting to cause a conflict, "She fell asleep on the bed while we were playing cards." It was a half-assed excuse, and Maureen gave him a confused look, but seemed to catch on and smiled.
"Yeah, and I still want a 'go fish' rematch!" she said, walking over to Joanne and kissing her on the cheek, "Hey, honey, how are you?" Joanne seemed appeased by their shoddy cover story and smiled.
"I'm all right, I hope you guys slept well?" At this, Maureen nodded vigorously and Mark shrugged, picking up the cups of coffee and carrying them to the two girls. He'd make himself some more later. Joanne took hers with a polite smile, sipping daintily, and Maureen grabbed hers and swallowed nearly the whole cup in one gulp. The sight of the two of them together had always been almost enough to make Mark laugh, they were so opposite. Maureen tended to go for people who were opposite of her, Mark noted. Like him. Perhaps it was a subconscious way of showing that she didn't like who she was.
"Hey Mark, honey, why don't you go get that book you were going to show me last night before I fell asleep? It's in your room, right?" Maureen said, smiling at him in an odd way. Slightly confused, Mark nodded tentatively.
"Uh...sure." He headed towards his room with his hands shoved in his pockets and closed the door halfway behind him. The conversation Maureen had wanted him out of the room for drifted through the crack in the door:
"Pookie, he needs someone right now. He hasn't got anyone else!"
"Maureen, I'm really not sure-"
"He just lost his best friend, Jo, and if you're worried about me and him...well, don't be." It surprised Mark that Maureen couldn't come up with a better reason for Joanne not to worry. Joanne sighed.
"I know. I just miss you, baby. When do you think he'll be okay?"
"I don't know. But I know I'm not leaving until he's all right again," Maureen sighed, "He's one of my best friends. He's shutting out the world." She sounded like she was going to cry. Mark could practically feel Joanne giving in. There it was again, the Magic of Maureen.
"It's fine, honey bear," Joanne replied, "I'll come by again after work tonight." They kissed briefly, then the door slammed shut. A moment later, Maureen appeared in the doorway, nearly running into Mark, who had been listening in not far from the door. She smiled awkwardly, knowing he'd heard.
"Is it all right if I stay a bit longer?" she asked, as if Mark actually had a choice in the matter, "Joanne has to go to work and I get lonely."
Five hours later, the two of them were sitting on the worn-out old couch, munching on the various forms of snack food Mark had managed to pull out of the cabinets. It was afternoon now, and the rain had completely cleared up, leaving behind a sparkling, sunny day and a rainbow over the buildings across the street. A few stray water droplets slid down the window and Mark followed their zig-zag course with his gaze.
"Hey," Maureen said suddenly, and Mark glanced over at her. "You know what I think we should do?" Mark shook his head. "Go shopping. Remember, you love shopping!" There was an almost devilish smile on her face, and Mark nearly smiled himself. He didn't really like shopping, but he'd insisted that he did when they were dating, and had sat through hours of her trying on outfit after outfit that neither of them could afford. They had been some of the best days he'd ever had. Maybe this would help things be like they were back then, he thought, and smiled weakly, nodding his head.
"Yeah," he said, "That'd be nice." Maureen smiled even wider and jumped up, grabbing her purse on her way to the door. Money hadn't been an issue with her since she'd been with Joanne, and Mark pulled some of the money he'd saved from his last few footage sales out of his hiding place in a box under the couch and put it in his pocket.
"Mark, what do you think? Mark? Mark!" Mark could hear her calling his name, and she was no doubt standing in front of him in a ridiculous pose, modeling some slinky evening dress or halter top, but he couldn't look up for some reason. The tiles of the dressing room floor were the exact same color that the ones at the hospital had been, and he felt himself being sucked into their numbness again. A hand suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled, forcing him to look away. Maureen was dragging him into the dressing room.
"Maureen! What're you-" he exclaimed and she shushed him. "We're going to get in trouble!" Maureen laughed out loud.
"Stop worrying, Marky," she said nonchalantly, pulling the red top she'd been trying on off over her head, "We're adults. It's no one else's business if I want you in here with me. Plus, you looked half dead out there." Mark found himself staring at her bra, a form-fitting concoction of black and pale blue lace, then realized what he was doing and looked away quickly, waiting until she pulled the next shirt on to look up again.