A Taste of What Angel Had

Okay, let's see now. Yeah, this is my first ever RENT fan fiction. And I wrote it in like 10 minutes so it's not long. I'm planning to write a second part to this, but it depends. I'm not quite sure if I like it, but hey at least it's something.

Disclaimer: Don't own it, cuz they'd never let me have it, can't rent it becuase they would never let me borrow it. So therefore, I had nothing to do with this wonder thing called RENT. I'm just playing with the characters for my own enjoyment.

Summary: Roger wants a taste of what Angel had.


Mark's POV

It was seven thirty when I got home.

Well at least I hoped it was seven thirty. My watch broke sometime ago and I never got it repaired. I mean, hell, I don't have enough money to eat let alone get my watch fixed. But I wear it all the same. It was a gift from Roger, he gave it to me when he was still a junkie; it was the only time he was thinking of someone who wasn't himself, April, or his drugs. Actually, he bought it with his drug money. I know he knows I still wear it, but he thinks it's still running. I never told him it stopped, he would have told me to use his AZT money to get it fixed; I couldn't let him do that.

His life means more to me than some watch. Even if he did give it to me.

In fact his life was what I was contemplating throughout the day and on my way up the stairs. Mimi left this morning, she said she couldn't handle all the arguing and the fighting. That she just couldn't handle Roger and his attitude, although I wasn't present I could still hear myself mumbling "I should be the one saying that. You haven't seen the worst of him, Mimi." She hadn't faced the blunt of Roger's withdrawal- I did, and I got scars to prove it-, she didn't deal with him and April died, but I did. And I stuck with him all the same. But we're not talking about me and Roger, we're talking about Mimi and Roger. Both of them are needy people, Mimi needs attention and Roger needs a helping hand; and two needy people can't take care of each other. So she stormed out with all of hell's fury behind her screaming something like "All I want is a taste of what Angel had!" as the heavy door slid closed behind her. And Roger, per usual, stalked into his room and slammed the door behind him. I really didn't want to be home when all hell broke loose for the second time, so I gathered up my camera and scarf and coat and got ready to walk out the loft door. But then I realized that Roger would freak if he came out to find an empty loft, so I left a quick message on a piece of paper on the kitchen counter.

Rog,

Went out filming or something. Didn't want to stay around in case World War III broke out. I know you're hurting, but please, do something. Don't mope. Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight, I don't care. But please, don't waste your time trying to fix something that already happened. She'll come back, and you'll be fine again.

Mark

P.S. I should be home around 7:30. And don't forget to eat and take your AZT. I don't want to stuff it down your throat again.

And that was that. I had been gone for most of the day, and as I put the key into the lock I was hoping that Roger at least did something. Even if he made a sandwich, I'd probably jump for joy. But I had a feeling that he didn't do anything except stay in his room and mope, after all I didn't see any lights on in the entire loft. But then again, he could have went out somewhere...

As I finally slid the loft door open I noticed that the living room- heh, living room. Not many people do much living in this room. Kinda ironic.- wasn't pitch black like I thought. Instead it was bathed in a soft otherworldly blue. And that's when I saw it. Roger was watching some of my films on the projector. More specifically, the one that I had filmed solely on Collins and Angel's perfect relationship. What stuck me as odd wasn't what he was watching as much as it was that I didn't recall ever showing or explaining to Roger how to use the projector. I was the only one that knew how to use it, well I guess not anymore. I set my stuff down on what we liked to consider the kitchen table and then moved to stand on the side of the couch. I really didn't know what to say, my thoughts and tongue were tied in knots. Did he get my message? Did Roger Davis actually take my advice? Was the world going to end because of it? A million things ran through my mind, but thankfully Roger spoke up first.

"I want a taste of what Angel had." His voice was quiet and a little raspy, like he hadn't said a word all day- and he probably hadn't- but I understood him all the same.

"Roger, you know she'll come back. She always does. You know that all she wants is attention, she wants you to run after her every time she threatens to take one step out that door; but you know she'll come back when she realizes that you're not gonna come running every time she says so." I moved toward the window, I didn't want to look at Roger. There was something in his eyes that made me feel vulnerable.

"I want a taste of what Angel had." He said it again as he got up to turn off the projector- which happened to be nearing the kiss that I managed to capture between Angel and Collins. Even though they were hamming it up for the camera, it still turned out to be a magical, perfect kiss. How did they do that? Manage to make everything look perfect? Even I had to admit, I always wondered what it would be like to have a taste of what Angel and Collins had.

"No, no Roger, " I ran toward the projector, I didn't want him breaking it when he turned it off, "I'll turn it off. Just go sit back down and we'll talk." But by the time I managed to reach it, Roger had already paused it. Not shut it off like I thought. Maybe he didn't want to be in the dark; still, it was strange that he managed to pause it at the exact moment when Angel and Collins shared their perfect movie kiss.

I made a move to sit down on our raggedy-ass couch when Roger's hand darted out and latched on to my wrist, pulling me closer to him.

"No." he said, his voice firm, but gentle. It was soothing really. "I want a taste of what Angel had."

And then he kissed me. Firm, but gentle; just like his voice. I understood then, exactly what he meant. I noticed in my brief second of startled confusion that our kiss was exactly lined up with the kiss on the screen. We stood in front of the projector; and Angel and Collins, and Roger and I, we aligned perfectly.

And it was in that moment that we both had discovered what it was like to have a taste of what Angel had.


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