Categories > Theatre > Rent > La Vie Boheme...Carpe Diem
Maureen Johnson lay in bed trying to get to sleep. She tossed and she turned, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't dose off. She thought she would just read a magazine for a while to help herself sleep. She picked up the latest copy of Teen People and flopped it on her bed before walking into the bathroom. When she got back into her room, she froze up. She had glanced at the page the magazine had fallen open onto. Staring up at her from those glossy pages was a very familiar pair of blue eyes behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses. "Mark," she breathed.
It had been ten years since she had left New York. She had just packed up and left. No note, no number. She knew she must have hurt them, but she couldn't take it anymore. The loss, the pain. She just had to get away from all the shit she had gone through. She had left on the day of Mimi's funeral. It was on Christmas day. The anniversary of her leaving was coming up in a week. She had sent them a note, but all it said was that she couldn't take it anymore and had to leave. Simple. The truth.
She had moved to LA and tried to make it as an actress, as she had always wanted, but it hadn't really worked out. So she moved to San Francisco. She got a job as a secretary and soon worked her way up until she had reached her current position, Quality Manager for Honeywell in her area. She felt guilty because she couldn't spend much time with Libby, but it was hard. The job required a lot of hours and was very stressful, which was just what she needed to keep her mind off her old life.
Maureen reached up to her cheek and realized she was crying. Shit. Why do you have to fucking cry... she thought to herself. She picked up the magazine and read the story. It looked as though Mark had finally achieved his dream. He had won at the Sundance festival.
She was suddenly furious with herself as she curled up in bed. She threw the magazine across the room and it hit her cell phone throwing it across the room and onto Maureen's feet. She considered throwing it across the room too, but thought better of it and laid it on her bedside table.
Suddenly, she had the urge to do something she hadn't done in a long time. For the first time in a long time, she bowed her head to pray. She whispered, "Please, God. Give me a sign. I'm so confused. I don't know what to do. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't do it. I want to go back, but I cant. Please." She began to cry harder than she had ever cried. "Please. I can't do this. Give me a sign." She paused for a minute. "Dammit! I need a sign!" she said loudly. As soon as the words had left her mouth, her cell phone that had just flown across the room rang.
She picked up. "Hello?" she said more rudely than she had meant to.
"Maureen? You'll want to watch your tone," came her boss's voice through the phone.
"Oh. Hi Joe," she said rather disappointed. She had hoped this would be her sign. But no. Just another late night business call.
"Hi. I know it's late and sort of short notice, but we need you to take a trip to New York for a couple of weeks," he said.
She froze. "Uhh...do you really need me to go?" she asked, but hen changed her mind. "Sorry. I mean...when do you need me to leave?"
"Actually, tomorrow afternoon. We've already booked your hotel and flight. Don't worry; you can bring Libby with you," he said, misinterpreting her silence.
"Okay Joe. Thanks. See you tomorrow," she said and hung up.
Maureen sat staring out her window in shock. No such thing as a subtle sign, huh? But even if she did go back for a couple of weeks, she probably wouldn't see anyone. There was Mark, but she didn't know about Roger or Collins. What if they were...well, she didn't want to think about that. She wasn't going to see them anyway. She could never go looking for them. They would hate her. She would have hated them if one of them had left.
She thought about what they would say if she did see them. Mark would probably be married with like 5 kids. How could a sweet guy like him not be? She didn't think he had it in him to get mad, but people changed. She had changed, after all. He would probably tell her she was a sell out. Roger would yell at her for stranding them with problems. And Collins...she didn't know about him. He definitely could get mad, but would he? She didn't know. Your being stupid. You're not going to see them anyway. You're just going to New York for a couple of weeks. It's not the same as when you lived there. With this thought going through her head, she fell into a very uneasy sleep. She would have to tell Libby about leaving tomorrow. She didn't want to wake her now.
*
3,000 miles away, in Manhattan, Mark Cohen was walking home after a long day. It was almost midnight. He couldn't believe he had been working so long. He sighed as he looked up at the stars. His mind began to drift to his friends. Why? Why him? Why did he have to be the only survivor? It hurt so much. He wished he could have that year back. 1990. It had changed everything. It was only him. And Maureen, but she was gone now. She had left ten years ago. On the day of Mimi's funeral. He had been worried about her at first, in classic Mark style. But soon, he had begun to hate her. After a couple years, though, she had just become a memory. Nothing more.
He wished he could see her again. She was probably married. Actually, he didn't even know if she was still alive. He shuddered at the thought. Even though he had lost her already, too many people had died. He didn't want her too either.
Mark looked up into the sky. It had begun to snow. Maureen had always loved the snow. What would he do if he did see her again? Would he fall in love with her again? Doubtful. She was probably married. Maybe to Joanne. He hadn't seen her in ten years either. Actually, the anniversary of her leaving was coming up in about a week. On Christmas.
"Dammit Maureen!" he said outloud. People stared, trying to figure out why he was talking to himself, but he didn't care. Then he thought to himself, I loved you. I did. Why the hell did you have to fucking leave? What a sell out. He stopped suddenly and sat down on a bench. He put his head in his hands and practically yelled into the night, "What do you fucking want from me, God? What? I've gone through so much! Why did she have to leave?! I want her here with me. But it's too late now. I need a sign," he said. He sat there for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen. "Damn. I guess I'm all alone," he said quietly and got up to walk away.
When he got up, a paper blew onto his leg and stuck. He brushed it away, not really thinking about it. It blew up into the air and stuck to his leg again. He brushed it away again. This time, it blew into the air and stuck to his face. "What the hell?" he said to himself and he picked up the paper and read it.
Four Seasons Hotel, New York
57 East 57th Street
New York, NY 10022
Honeywell Quality Worker's Convention
December 21-January 4
Representatives From:
New York, NY
Trenton, NJ
Kansas City, KS
Springfield, MO
San Francisco, CA
Tokyo, Japan
Paris, France
London, England
Moscow, Russia
It seemed to be a memo for a hotel. The San Francisco location was circled in red pen. He threw it over his shoulder and it flew down and landed in his camera bag without him noticing it.
Fate was definitely working on their side.
*
A/N: So? What do you think? Was it absolutely horrible? I've never written RENT fan fiction before, but I'm a total renthead. So, how was it? Should I keep going with it?
It had been ten years since she had left New York. She had just packed up and left. No note, no number. She knew she must have hurt them, but she couldn't take it anymore. The loss, the pain. She just had to get away from all the shit she had gone through. She had left on the day of Mimi's funeral. It was on Christmas day. The anniversary of her leaving was coming up in a week. She had sent them a note, but all it said was that she couldn't take it anymore and had to leave. Simple. The truth.
She had moved to LA and tried to make it as an actress, as she had always wanted, but it hadn't really worked out. So she moved to San Francisco. She got a job as a secretary and soon worked her way up until she had reached her current position, Quality Manager for Honeywell in her area. She felt guilty because she couldn't spend much time with Libby, but it was hard. The job required a lot of hours and was very stressful, which was just what she needed to keep her mind off her old life.
Maureen reached up to her cheek and realized she was crying. Shit. Why do you have to fucking cry... she thought to herself. She picked up the magazine and read the story. It looked as though Mark had finally achieved his dream. He had won at the Sundance festival.
She was suddenly furious with herself as she curled up in bed. She threw the magazine across the room and it hit her cell phone throwing it across the room and onto Maureen's feet. She considered throwing it across the room too, but thought better of it and laid it on her bedside table.
Suddenly, she had the urge to do something she hadn't done in a long time. For the first time in a long time, she bowed her head to pray. She whispered, "Please, God. Give me a sign. I'm so confused. I don't know what to do. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't do it. I want to go back, but I cant. Please." She began to cry harder than she had ever cried. "Please. I can't do this. Give me a sign." She paused for a minute. "Dammit! I need a sign!" she said loudly. As soon as the words had left her mouth, her cell phone that had just flown across the room rang.
She picked up. "Hello?" she said more rudely than she had meant to.
"Maureen? You'll want to watch your tone," came her boss's voice through the phone.
"Oh. Hi Joe," she said rather disappointed. She had hoped this would be her sign. But no. Just another late night business call.
"Hi. I know it's late and sort of short notice, but we need you to take a trip to New York for a couple of weeks," he said.
She froze. "Uhh...do you really need me to go?" she asked, but hen changed her mind. "Sorry. I mean...when do you need me to leave?"
"Actually, tomorrow afternoon. We've already booked your hotel and flight. Don't worry; you can bring Libby with you," he said, misinterpreting her silence.
"Okay Joe. Thanks. See you tomorrow," she said and hung up.
Maureen sat staring out her window in shock. No such thing as a subtle sign, huh? But even if she did go back for a couple of weeks, she probably wouldn't see anyone. There was Mark, but she didn't know about Roger or Collins. What if they were...well, she didn't want to think about that. She wasn't going to see them anyway. She could never go looking for them. They would hate her. She would have hated them if one of them had left.
She thought about what they would say if she did see them. Mark would probably be married with like 5 kids. How could a sweet guy like him not be? She didn't think he had it in him to get mad, but people changed. She had changed, after all. He would probably tell her she was a sell out. Roger would yell at her for stranding them with problems. And Collins...she didn't know about him. He definitely could get mad, but would he? She didn't know. Your being stupid. You're not going to see them anyway. You're just going to New York for a couple of weeks. It's not the same as when you lived there. With this thought going through her head, she fell into a very uneasy sleep. She would have to tell Libby about leaving tomorrow. She didn't want to wake her now.
*
3,000 miles away, in Manhattan, Mark Cohen was walking home after a long day. It was almost midnight. He couldn't believe he had been working so long. He sighed as he looked up at the stars. His mind began to drift to his friends. Why? Why him? Why did he have to be the only survivor? It hurt so much. He wished he could have that year back. 1990. It had changed everything. It was only him. And Maureen, but she was gone now. She had left ten years ago. On the day of Mimi's funeral. He had been worried about her at first, in classic Mark style. But soon, he had begun to hate her. After a couple years, though, she had just become a memory. Nothing more.
He wished he could see her again. She was probably married. Actually, he didn't even know if she was still alive. He shuddered at the thought. Even though he had lost her already, too many people had died. He didn't want her too either.
Mark looked up into the sky. It had begun to snow. Maureen had always loved the snow. What would he do if he did see her again? Would he fall in love with her again? Doubtful. She was probably married. Maybe to Joanne. He hadn't seen her in ten years either. Actually, the anniversary of her leaving was coming up in about a week. On Christmas.
"Dammit Maureen!" he said outloud. People stared, trying to figure out why he was talking to himself, but he didn't care. Then he thought to himself, I loved you. I did. Why the hell did you have to fucking leave? What a sell out. He stopped suddenly and sat down on a bench. He put his head in his hands and practically yelled into the night, "What do you fucking want from me, God? What? I've gone through so much! Why did she have to leave?! I want her here with me. But it's too late now. I need a sign," he said. He sat there for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen. "Damn. I guess I'm all alone," he said quietly and got up to walk away.
When he got up, a paper blew onto his leg and stuck. He brushed it away, not really thinking about it. It blew up into the air and stuck to his leg again. He brushed it away again. This time, it blew into the air and stuck to his face. "What the hell?" he said to himself and he picked up the paper and read it.
Four Seasons Hotel, New York
57 East 57th Street
New York, NY 10022
Honeywell Quality Worker's Convention
December 21-January 4
Representatives From:
New York, NY
Trenton, NJ
Kansas City, KS
Springfield, MO
San Francisco, CA
Tokyo, Japan
Paris, France
London, England
Moscow, Russia
It seemed to be a memo for a hotel. The San Francisco location was circled in red pen. He threw it over his shoulder and it flew down and landed in his camera bag without him noticing it.
Fate was definitely working on their side.
*
A/N: So? What do you think? Was it absolutely horrible? I've never written RENT fan fiction before, but I'm a total renthead. So, how was it? Should I keep going with it?
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