A/N: I'm back! Whoo!! I saw RENT live for the first time the other day and let's just say… it blew me away! I laughed! I cried (a lot)! And felt inspired for this story believe it or not. Although I felt the need to write something from Roger's past this time that was a little more light hearted so that's what's on the agenda!! Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT or Roger… horribly depressing, I know.

I'm Ready For My Close Up!

Playtime from Hell

We've all had our fair share of fun toys in our childhoods, am I right? We've had toy trains, model cars, dinosaurs, sock puppets… and everything in between! However… there usually is just that one toy that sticks with us forever while the others all fade away from our memories. Unfortunately for me this wasn't a favorite toy that stayed fresh in my mind all these years. No… instead I remember a creepy ass ventriloquist dummy!

(Flashback)

"Okay Roger… there's one more present for you!" Mrs. Davis explained delightedly. Roger gave a small smile at his mother's attempt to make today special. It was his thirteenth birthday party and he had been looking forward towards the day for nearly three years! He'd already had a friend get together at the mall yesterday and so now his family was throwing him a little birthday party at his home.

"Really?" Roger asked, genuinely curious. He'd already received several new guitar picks from his father and a tape from his favorite rock group, The Head Mashers. Not to mention the guitar that he had received as an early birthday present nearly a month ago... a brand new black and white electric contraption that Roger was able to take to his lessons with great amounts of pride. What more could his parents possibly have for him?

"Bring it out!" Roger's excited mother called down the hallway. Stern Mr. Davis then walked down the hallway with a rather large pink box.

"Come on and open 'er up Roger!" Mr. Davis said gruffly, a smile gracing his features. Roger walked cautiously up to the box (the pink coloring threw him off a little) and hastily ripped the paper away. Now all that was left was a large cardboard box with several holes cut into the side.

"No… it can't be!" Roger cried, expecting a cute and wriggly puppy jump out of the box at him when he opened it. He tried to mask his extreme disappointment however when all that was in the box was…

"It's a ventriloquist dummy!" Mrs. Davis squealed and eagerly yanked the doll out of the box. "I remembered how much you loved these when you were younger… oh goodness! You would go on about how you would be a ventriloquist and tour the world with your dummy named…" Roger groaned and finished his mother's sentence.

"Pedro!" he sighed and took the dummy from his mother. Sure it had been his dream when he was very small but did his parents really expect him to still be into that kind of thing? Judging by their expressions… the answer would be a resounding yes. Roger took this time to look over the dummy.

The little wooden man consisted of ink black hair (that for some reason wasn't painted on but actual hair), dark mysterious eyes, a button nose, and a grin that even a crack addict could not achieve on the best of highs. Not to mention the freckles that were splattered across his cheeks and the disgustingly clean cut black suit that covered his body.

"Pedro," Roger said again. To be honest Roger didn't know what to think about this… this… doll.

"He comes with several different outfits!" his mother gushed while he stared dumbly at Pedro. Roger looked up numbly to stare at the various other hideous doll outfits that his mother was holding out towards him. He forced a weak smile and a nod while promising himself to touch this dummy and his clothes as little as possible.

"And he also comes with a book on how to throw your voice," Mr. Davis reminded and held out a bright red handbook. Roger took the book from his father and set both it and the dummy down on the table and smiled up at his parents.

"It's great," he said weakly. He even let his mother give him a peck on the cheek and ruffle his hair until it was a horrible mess. All the while the dummy stared at him… a blank, cold, and overall unnerving stare.

(End flashback)

Yes. Later as I stared across the room at the dummy and found myself incapable of looking away despite the overwhelming need to ralph all over the living room carpet I knew I was terrified of Pedro. Somehow giving him a name made him even more real and it made me unbelievably anxious. Who would have thought something so cute and innocent could be so utterly terrifying?

Anyway, later that evening Mark came over for dinner like he always does on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. My mom always prepared the most nutritious meals with the highest possible serving amount when Mark came over. She was hell-bent to get that boy to weigh over 90 pounds. Anyway, before dinner was ready both Mark and I went to my room because he wanted to, and I quote, "raid the loot".

(Flashback)

"Let's see… new guitar picks, a tape, and a guitar they gave you a month ago," Mark listed off with a grin. "It seems they've got you all figured out Roger Davis!" Roger smirked at his friend who was surveying the new arrivals on his bed.

"There's one other thing in the closet," Roger instructed and plopped down on his bed with a satisfied smirk. Sure he hated the creepy puppet but it couldn't hurt to get a rise out of Mark could it?

"I don't like the looks of that smirk Rog," Mark warned but ventured into the closet anyway. "What, did they get you a Bar—WHAT THE HELL?!" Mark squeaked and came reeling out of the closet. Roger laughed as Mark withdrew from the closet, pale and trembling.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" Mark bellowed and flew to the other side of the room fearfully. Roger chuckled again and sauntered over to the closet with a sly grin.

"That, my friend, happened to be Pedro. And you insulted him." Roger came back from the closet toting the puppet in one arm. Mark's eyes widened behind his square glasses and he backed up even farther against the wall.

"Pedro?" he whispered in terror, eyeing the thing carefully. Roger rolled his eyes, grimaced, and then set the thing on a chair by the desk.

"Pretty horrifying isn't he?" Roger said with a thin smile. Once Mark saw that the contraption was safely placed in the chair he inched forward to get a better look.

"What possessed your parents to buy such a demonic toy?" Mark asked, his fear subsiding into curiosity. Roger sighed and motioned weakly to the doll with a shaking hand.

"When I was little I wanted to be a ventriloquist and I guess my parents got it in their heads to grant me my wish now," Roger explained in a whiny voice. "I don't want anything to do with him though! He looks like he could come to life in the middle of the night and stab me to death with a safety pin!" As he was speaking Roger moved closer to his bed and sat down on it, bringing a pillow to his knees protectively. Mark just squinted and adjusted his glasses so he could see better.

"Classic horror movie situation," he mused while studying Pedro. "The teenage boy's unsuspecting and naive parents buy him a possessed doll that wreaks havoc during the night but pins it on the boy. No matter how much the boy tries to tell someone about what's going on they call him crazy and brand him as having an overactive imagination. It could end with either the boy's entire family dying a horrible painful death or the dummy being destroyed." At this point Mark was just rambling, lost in his little filmmaker mind. "Though the dummy wouldn't have actually died and it would leave more room for a sequel that isn't really better than the original…" Mark finally trailed off when he saw the murderous expression on Roger's face.

"Mark…" he warned in a low and dangerous voice. Mark smiled weakly and stepped away from Pedro.

"Roger… your fist is clenching and unclenching again… control your temper," he warned while trying to make amends with his best friend. Roger sighed and relaxed his hand while forcing himself to not be so angry. It was a silly thing to be angry about.

"Sorry Mark it's just… that thing already freaks me out as it is so let's hold off on the horror movie thing, okay?" Roger explained while shooting glares in the direction of Pedro. If he didn't know better he would think that Pedro smirked back at him. Mark laughed shortly, clapping Roger on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it Roger… just pretend that you love the thing for about a week and then shove it in the back of your closet," Mark suggested, taking a seat next to Roger. "That always works for me when my mom gives me those horrendous itchy sweaters," he pointed out, causing Roger to grin.

"You're probably right Mark…" Roger said and flashed his friend a wide smile. "There's not much to be scared of really… it's just a doll." Mark smiled back and nodded confidently.

"Sure he's a little heart-stopping when you first meet him but he's just a puppet," Mark confirmed and then danced over to the door. "C'mon, I think it's Hearty Chicken Stew night if my memory serves me," Mark teased and waited impatiently in the doorway. Roger grinned and trotted over to the door as well.

"You're such a nerd," he teased, punching Mark roughly in the shoulder. Mark whimpered a bit in mock hurt and raced down the stairs playfully. Roger bolted after him with a laugh. However he couldn't stop thinking about how Mark had referred to Pedro as if he were a… person.

(End flashback!)

So the rest of the evening passed without event. Mark ate all that my mom put on his plate with gusto while my mom sent him little piercing glances all through dinner. I think she was hoping to physically see Mark gain weight with each spoonful of stew and each bite of cornbread. My father and I noticed this and laughed with each other quietly about how overbearing she could be. Finally the cake was brought out (my piece was even bigger than Mark's for a change!) and with the last bites of moist pastry the night came to a close.

After allowing me to showoff to Mark for a bit with my guitar my parents kindly suggested that maybe it was time for Mark to go home. So with the dying strains of my favorite Head Masher song my teacher helped me learn Mark was shown the door. For a while I even managed to forget about Pedro the Freaking Dummy because of how lighthearted the evening had been. Hanging out with Mark usually very calming… at least when he wasn't always coming up with situations of how I could die in a horror, action, or tragic romance movie. He's just a nerd that way.

So imagine my surprise when I opened my bedroom door to get ready for bed…

(Flashback!)

Roger bid his parents goodnight by shouting down the stairway and then stomping up to his room. He was more than ready to pretend to sleep but instead listen to his new tape with the volume down low. However, when he opened the bedroom door he could barely suppress a scream of horror.

Instead of being in the chair by the desk where Roger had left him the doll was now lying across his bed… his face twisted into a maniacal grin and head turned towards the door as if waiting for Roger. Roger's breath caught in his throat and his head spun dangerously. Pedro had moved himself… Pedro had moved himself…

"It was probably Mark… trying to freak me out. He saw how much it bugged me," Roger thought to himself frantically, trying to find a way to lower his heart rate. Then a horrifying fact hit him and left him wanting to cry. "SHIT!!! Mark was with me the whole night! He never even went up the stairs to use the bathroom!" Roger ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair and stared at the puppet from hell with suspicious eyes.

"Okay Roger… maybe one of your parents saw him sitting on the chair and put him on the bed for you… it's okay… the doll can't actually move." With this thought now in place Roger inched into his room but left the door slightly ajar.

"Come on Pedro… you're going back in the closet," Roger instructed out loud and carefully lifted the puppet. His hands trembled around Pedro but once the closet door was open he tossed the puppet as if it were burning his hands. "Now stay there!" Roger warned and giggled a little nervously at the way he was talking to the thing. However he lost no time in slamming the door shut on the puppet. All the while his instincts were screaming at him, telling him where he should go.

Get in the bed… get in the bed… get in the bed…

For whatever reason Roger thought that the bed was safe territory so he willingly leapt into it, pulling the blankets around his trembling body tightly. He didn't even care that he was still in his regular clothes and that they were itching uncomfortably. Nothing would bring him out of this comfort zone… absolutely nothing.

………………………………………

Three hours later, Roger Davis was still wide-awake. His body was slanted towards the closet door and his eyes fixated on the handle and narrowed intensely. Two hours earlier he thought he had heard a noise come from the general direction of the closet and now he refused to turn his attention away.

If that little bastard thought he was gonna come out in the middle of the night and catch him unawares then that little demon had another thing coming. Roger blatantly refused to become a victim from Mark's horror films.

"Yeah, you better stay hidden you little punk," Roger whispered in the darkness, the suspense getting to him. "You better just stay in there and keep your torture devices to yourself." Somehow this statement made Roger feel much more secure, especially when the closet door didn't swing open with a provoked dummy hanging off the handle. The thought sent a tremor down Roger's spine that could freeze hell over though and he quickly thought of other things.

"Francesca looked kind of hot in that light blue sweater the other day," Roger thought to himself to distract his thoughts from terrifying images. He was of course referring to the little brunette that sat in front of him in Biology. Biology was always so much more interesting when she was at school. "I wonder if I asked her…"

CrrreeeeEEEAAAAAAAAAKKKKK!!!!!!!

Roger jumped out of his thoughts and refocused his thoughts on the closet door. He was certain that the noise had come because the door had swung open. However, the door was still firmly closed. Just as he had left it nearly four hours ago and appeared to never have moved.

"Okay Davis… you'll never get the chance to ask her for even a freaking pencil again if you don't keep an eye on that door. FOCUS MAN!!!" Roger steeled himself and once more stared at the door. He would be damned if that little monstrosity would get past him and attack himself, his family and friends, or ruin his chances of sniffing Francesca's perfumed hair! Or any other girl for that matter!

And so the entire night passed in turmoil for our daring hero. Not a wink did he sleep all evening long.

(End flashback!)

My parents noticed in the morning that I resembled a raccoon that had been stuck in a river all night and instantly wanted to know what was wrong. I couldn't bear to tell them that I had been too terrified of the psychotic killer in disguise as a ventriloquist dummy so I lied and said I wasn't feeling well. When they suggested that I stayed home however I instantly felt terrified of having to spend the entire day home alone with the thing so I tried my best to get out of it.

Luckily for me, my dad had a suspicion of what was wrong and pulled me aside later that morning to confront me. When he wanted to know if something had scared me I ended up telling him all about Pedro and the night's events. He seemed to understand completely and offered to help me get it out of my room without offending my mother. Let me tell you, I was eternally grateful.

So eventually Pedro faded from the memory of my parents and Mark but however I have been cursed to always remember. I've never looked at a ventriloquist or his dummy the same way since. Besides… I always was afraid of that attic where he was hidden. I just always felt that there was something watching me… waiting to pounce.

A/N: Dun, dun, DUUUUNNNN!!!!! Anyway, sorry if the whole puppet thing was a little out of left field but THOSE THINGS TERRIFY ME TO DEATH!! I based Roger's reaction off of what I would do in his place pretty much. So next time there will be another serious memory but until then PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Oh, and I as far as I know there isn't a band named "The Head Mashers" but if there is then I apologize. I also own Pedro, he's my own character even though he scares the hell out of me. :D