Here's yet another story I made up while in math class. Can you tell I work hard on that subject? Anyways, thank you Christine (there I said your name…your actual name) for adding that little smidgen and your thought on it.
Again, don't own Rent but can Anthony Rapp be mine? Love from me if you find the lyrics from a song by A. Rapp.
"Close on the lonely pigeon looking for food and shelter," a young Mark Cohen narrated from the park bench he sat on as he filmed. What was he doing here?
He had left his nice comfortable home in Scarsdale where his mom would always be ready to make him an almond butter and fruit-sweetened jam sandwich for this…New York City, center of the universe. Now that he was here, ready to fulfill his dream to be a filmmaker, he realized he didn't have anywhere to stay and he had no food and he was freezing. Was he supposed to sleep in the street? What if he got mugged or something like his mother warned him about?
Now pacing in the park he began to panic. Maybe he shouldn't have left. Looking at his camera he began to fiddle with it trying to keep his mind off his impending doom.
"Umf! Hey! Watch where ya're goin'!" said a man with spiked bleach blonde hair. Oh God…was he going to get mugged by some junkie with no sense of grammar?
"I-I'm sorry. You see I was looking at my camera and I don't have any money so don't and-"
"It's cool buddy," said the blonde man as he chuckled. What was he laughing at?
Mark looked at him confused. The other man rolled his eyes and looked about to say something else, but before he did he was tackled by two women. New York was a crazy place…
"April! Maureen! Get off!" the man growled while pushing them off. Was he their pimp or something?
"Who's the cute albino-kid?" the hooker (or so he assumed by her dress) with the brunette curly hair and tight leather pants asked causing Mark to blush.
"I don't know. He ran inta me," said the blonde as he kissed the other girl with short red hair.
"You okay baby? Roger! You stupid fucking big lug. Probably hurt the poor guy," said the brunette as she went over close to fix his scarf.
"I'm okay. Really," he said taking a step back. He hadn't the money to give this girl so why get worked up?
"What's your name?" the redhead asked hanging on the blonde man.
"Mark. I'm Mark," he introduced himself hoping to be spared any more humiliation. Was it right that he used his actual first name?
"Roger. Roger Davis," the blonde man introduced himself. "This is April my girlfriend and that slut is Maureen."
"Hey! Not my fault I'm irresistible," the hooker named Maureen said with a grin. "Can't believe you called me that. Can you Pookie? I'm a good enough girl," she said flirtatiously to Mark and about to hang off of him causing him to blush even more. "Where you staying Pookie?"
"Uh…I-I don't know. I just got here from Scarsdale," he explained kicking himself after for saying where he lived.
"Rich boy huh? Well, we need another roomie to make the rent right Roger?" the other women said.
"Yea! But you aren't some crazy murderer or something are you Mark?" Roger asked jokingly.
"Uh…no…I'm a vegetarian so…" Mark said hopeful to have a place to stay if only for the night.
"What are you doing here in New York?" April asked.
"I'm uh...trying to be a filmmaker," he answered showing them his old camera.
"Oh? I'm in a band and stuff…Maureen's here because she's a drama queen and April's always been here," Roger told him with a grin. So…he wasn't a pimp and they weren't hookers?
"What do you film Marky? Wanna film me?" Maureen asked. Perhaps she was a hooker, but Mark couldn't help but enjoy what she was doing.
"Or do you film running into people?" Roger asked with a smirk.
"Oh no. Mostly anything. My scripts are pretty shitty so far," he said with a shrug. These people weren't too bad. Perhaps, they could even be his friends. Rather excited by this notion Mark added quickly, "I wish you met me earlier when I was outside feeding the pigeons and they were flying around and it was really pretty outside."
Roger, April and Maureen looked at him oddly wondering what he was talking about and began laughing. He'd fit in just fine with them. Still, they lead the way to their loft apartment. Mark turned around to continue with his story and noticed they were leaving.
"Where did my friends go? Oh!" he said finding them in the crowd and hurrying up to catch up with them.
Now he had a place to go and some friends to help him out in the tough big city. Who knows what would occur in the future because of this chance meeting? Or how great of an effect each person he met right then? One day he would look back on this time and film of the pigeons flying around and the blonde "pimp" with his two "hookers" who weren't really hookers and he wasn't really a pimp and think why it happened and what he was to do. He'd wonder how did he get in the predicament he was in and blame last Christmas of '89, but when he looked upon the film he would know that was the beginning. Things were always changing and flying around him with unknown destinations, like pigeons flying around outside in the park of New York.