Fic: The Story Never Ends
Title: The Story Never Ends
Chapter: 2/25
Character/Pairings: Canon pairings
Word Count: 700
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: The bohemians continue their lives as they attempt to help out a new friend. However, in doing so, they end up getting seriously involved in a string of mass rapings and murders that has erupted in the city.
Notes: The first RENT fic I ever wrote. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to put this? It's obvious I own nothing.
“….Police are still baffled by the sudden disappearance of the fifteen year old girl, the third disappearance in less then a week. They ask anyone who might have any information to contact…..” A small bit of a news broadcast could be heard from the open window of one of the many passing cars that were moving down Bowery Street, past Little Italy’s Broome Street, and a bespectacled young man currently holding an old Bolex camera.
Sighing, Mark gave up on looking for something worth filming in this section of town, and began to petal his bike up the street. Ever since finishing Today For U, he had been trying to find something to match it. He had considered making some kind of continuation that would focus on his friends, but they were usually all off doing their own things, now. Still, he had plenty of time to think about it. Since quitting Buzzline, he had nothing but free time on his hands.
As Mark neared the corner, he was so lost in thought he only noticed the car that was pulling out when there was a second to spare. In a panic, he swerved his bike out of the way. However, in doing so, the front wheel got caught in a sewer grate, sending him tumbling onto the curb pretty hard. Before everything in Mark’s line of vision was lost to the fog that was quickly overtaking him, he saw the hazy outline of someone standing over him.
“You okay?” A voice asked, a second before everything went black.
-----
A discouraged Mimi walked up the stairs to the loft. She had just been to another job interview, but the ordeal had been a disaster, just like all the others. After working at the Cat Scratch for so long, she had been permanently typecast, and all potential employers barely gave her a second glace.
As she entered the loft, she immediately caught sight of Roger, leaning casually against the metal table. As he saw her walk in, he began to grin in the goofiest manner ever.
“What?” She asked. Instead of replying, he glanced away, the grin never leaving his face. “Why are you smiling like that?” Mimi demanded, getting a little annoyed. When Roger continued to ignore her question, she went off into their room in a huff. Seconds after she closed the door, however, the door opened up again, revealing Roger standing outside the room.
“Collins called a few minutes before you got back.” He explained finally. “Apparently, the old dance instructor at NYU is retiring in a few weeks, meaning there’s gonna be an opening.”
“Roger,” Mimi began slowly. “What are you getting at?”
“Collins put in a good word for you with the dean down there. They agreed to try you out for a week. And if they’re impressed, then….”
“I got the job?”
“You got the job!” Mimi let out a squeal and launched herself at Roger, engaging in a full-on lip lock. Making their way to the couch, their hands began to slowly inch lower. Suddenly the phone started to ring. Mimi began to look up, but she was stopped by Roger.
“Let it ring,” he begged as his lips traveled to her neck.
“SPPEEEEAAAAAK!”
“Ha! ‘Speak!’ I like that! It’s good! Really clever!” An unfamiliar voice announced from the answering machine. “Anyway, does anyone there know a… (Rupert, give me that!)… a Mark Cohen?” Roger and Mimi both looked up immediately.
“Don’t worry; I think he’ll be fine." The caller continued. "But he had a slight accident not too long ago, and hit his head. I know a doctor who does house calls, so he’s going to come over to make sure he’s okay. I’m just calling to tell you not to worry about him. But I also would feel better if someone came over to escort him home. I wouldn’t want him to pass out again trying to go home by himself, you know? So if anyone hears this, you can come collect him in Little Italy, at the corner of Broome and Bowery.” The caller hung up without another word, and a second later, Roger and Mimi were out the door.
Chapter: 2/25
Character/Pairings: Canon pairings
Word Count: 700
Rating: Pg-13
Summary: The bohemians continue their lives as they attempt to help out a new friend. However, in doing so, they end up getting seriously involved in a string of mass rapings and murders that has erupted in the city.
Notes: The first RENT fic I ever wrote. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Do I really need to put this? It's obvious I own nothing.
“….Police are still baffled by the sudden disappearance of the fifteen year old girl, the third disappearance in less then a week. They ask anyone who might have any information to contact…..” A small bit of a news broadcast could be heard from the open window of one of the many passing cars that were moving down Bowery Street, past Little Italy’s Broome Street, and a bespectacled young man currently holding an old Bolex camera.
Sighing, Mark gave up on looking for something worth filming in this section of town, and began to petal his bike up the street. Ever since finishing Today For U, he had been trying to find something to match it. He had considered making some kind of continuation that would focus on his friends, but they were usually all off doing their own things, now. Still, he had plenty of time to think about it. Since quitting Buzzline, he had nothing but free time on his hands.
As Mark neared the corner, he was so lost in thought he only noticed the car that was pulling out when there was a second to spare. In a panic, he swerved his bike out of the way. However, in doing so, the front wheel got caught in a sewer grate, sending him tumbling onto the curb pretty hard. Before everything in Mark’s line of vision was lost to the fog that was quickly overtaking him, he saw the hazy outline of someone standing over him.
“You okay?” A voice asked, a second before everything went black.
-----
A discouraged Mimi walked up the stairs to the loft. She had just been to another job interview, but the ordeal had been a disaster, just like all the others. After working at the Cat Scratch for so long, she had been permanently typecast, and all potential employers barely gave her a second glace.
As she entered the loft, she immediately caught sight of Roger, leaning casually against the metal table. As he saw her walk in, he began to grin in the goofiest manner ever.
“What?” She asked. Instead of replying, he glanced away, the grin never leaving his face. “Why are you smiling like that?” Mimi demanded, getting a little annoyed. When Roger continued to ignore her question, she went off into their room in a huff. Seconds after she closed the door, however, the door opened up again, revealing Roger standing outside the room.
“Collins called a few minutes before you got back.” He explained finally. “Apparently, the old dance instructor at NYU is retiring in a few weeks, meaning there’s gonna be an opening.”
“Roger,” Mimi began slowly. “What are you getting at?”
“Collins put in a good word for you with the dean down there. They agreed to try you out for a week. And if they’re impressed, then….”
“I got the job?”
“You got the job!” Mimi let out a squeal and launched herself at Roger, engaging in a full-on lip lock. Making their way to the couch, their hands began to slowly inch lower. Suddenly the phone started to ring. Mimi began to look up, but she was stopped by Roger.
“Let it ring,” he begged as his lips traveled to her neck.
“SPPEEEEAAAAAK!”
“Ha! ‘Speak!’ I like that! It’s good! Really clever!” An unfamiliar voice announced from the answering machine. “Anyway, does anyone there know a… (Rupert, give me that!)… a Mark Cohen?” Roger and Mimi both looked up immediately.
“Don’t worry; I think he’ll be fine." The caller continued. "But he had a slight accident not too long ago, and hit his head. I know a doctor who does house calls, so he’s going to come over to make sure he’s okay. I’m just calling to tell you not to worry about him. But I also would feel better if someone came over to escort him home. I wouldn’t want him to pass out again trying to go home by himself, you know? So if anyone hears this, you can come collect him in Little Italy, at the corner of Broome and Bowery.” The caller hung up without another word, and a second later, Roger and Mimi were out the door.