It's my first RENT fic, so bear with me…. I really hope that you like it! Please Review! Also, I do not own any of the characters from RENT, or any of their background and what not. Jonathan Larson was an amazing playwright, and a big inspiration to me.

"November third, nine-teen eighty," Mark said, panning around his messy room. He pushed his glasses far up his nose, and rolled his camera quickly getting footage of his teenage years. He had just received the camera as a present; his Bar Mitzvah was that past weekend, and his birthday the day before. Mark didn't even know who got him the camera, he assumed it was some rich aunt or cousin, but he didn't care, he just cared that it worked, and it was cool.

"I sit here, alone, in my room, living up my teenage years," he said in a manly voice, trying to narrate his life. "As one can see, my room is very chaotic right now, paper everywhere. Draped on the nightstand, scattered on the carpet, cluttered in that corner," he zoomed in on the paper. "A week after my oh so glamorous Bar Mitzvah and day after my thirteenth birthday," Mark sighed, and shut off the camera.

Mark fell back on his bed, and place the lens cap on his new camera, then set it down next to him. He ran his fingers through his blond hair and shut his eyes tight. How awful his Bar Mitzvah had turned out.

"Mark, Maaaar-arrrk! Mark Cohen!" his mother shouted over the music and kids on the dance floor.

"What mom?" Mark shuffled over to his mother, shoulders low, glasses falling off his face.

"Mark, look happy for the camera! Don't slouch; you're going to wrinkle your new suit!" His mother smiled, his father behind her with a camera in his hand. His dad waved to him, and Mark rolled his eyes. "Don't roll you're eyes at your father! What's wrong deary, it's your Bar Mitzvah! You should be having fun! Look how fun everyone else is having!" His mother chirped.

"Mom…Can I go? It's really not fun, at all…"

"Say something for the video Mark," his father interrupted him. His father stood in his son's face, rolling the camera incisively, waiting for Mark to say something.

"Uh…" Mark stood dumbfounded.

"Mark honey," mom to the rescue!

"Yeah mom," he turned around eagerly, how he dreaded having to say some happy thoughts about the "day he became a man". If he was so manly, why was he still so short and lanky? He barely had any pubes, and was embarrassed to even change in front of the other guys for PE at school. He would go change in the showers, and wait until no one was around to come out. Everyone else was built up, except for a couple of nerdy kids, and a few premature tennis players. Mark didn't fit in with them really either. He was a bit nerdy, well, his appearance defiantly was, lanky body, thick rimmed glasses, gelled up blond hair, his everyday jeans and cheap polo shirts. And then of course he was moderately smart, but he mostly pulled off Bs, and he wasn't into chess or whatever they would play when they weren't studying. Then Mark didn't play sports, he wasn't athletic, and he thought tennis was boring, and he didn't really get it, so they wouldn't hang out with him. He mostly hung out with the art and theater geeks. Done a couple of plays, bought a cheap art supply kit, and would doodle often and paint his pictures. That's how manly Mark was.

"Mark honey, please try and look like you're having a good time. Go dance with your friends," she suggested.

Friends? Mark thought to himself. They weren't all his friends, maybe a handful. The rest were classmates he didn't have a problem with, and would give him presents, so he invited them. He'd be surprised if they knew what his name was.

"Fine," Mark gave in. His choices were go dance, or talk to his dad's camera all night about how "happy" he is and how proud his parents were. Plus his mom would probably keep bugging him about it.

He scurried out to the dance floor with his classmates, trying to find a friendly face. He finally spotted his friend Tom Collins, hidden in the crowd being the life of his own little party. He was dancing with people surrounding him, most of them having fun, but some other "popular" kids gossiping about his outgoing behavior.

"I love how he thinks it's so cool, it's really just lame," one girl said to her friend. The other girl giggled.

Mark sighed, he loved Collins to pieces, and he couldn't have been more annoyed with the girls. But what did Mark know, they were probably talking shit about him all the time, but as long as it didn't get back to him, it didn't bother him. He decided not to say anything to Collins.

"Hey Collins," Mark muttered to his friend.

"Mark! How is the man doing today?" Collins broke away from his little crowd and put an arm around his friend.

"The man?" Mark laughed.

"What, you could totally be the man! Just not that man," Collins joked. He started to sway a little and get back into the dancing mode, "join me?" he asked Mark.

"Gladly," Mark smiled and dances foolishly with his friend. Screw everyone else, he was allowed to have fun; it was his party after all!

Laughing and dancing, Mark was finally able to relax. Him and Collins kept going and catching up. Mark wanted to know what Collins thought of the service, the food, the people, his family. His dad came around with the camera again. Asked Collins and a couple of other kids their thoughts, to wish Mark a happy Bar Mitzvah, and then went back to pestering Mark. After finally getting rid of him, they tore apart towards the middle of the crowd. Then the band wanted to "slow things up a bit" and started to play Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin.

"That was fun," Mark said.

"Yeah definitely," Collins agreed.

"I actually like this song a lot," Mark grinned.

"Yeah?" Collins laughed, "hey, you should ask someone to dance," he said.

"Me?" Mark laughed, "yeah right!"

"Hey, you were the one just dancing it up a minute ago! Or was that another blond nerdy Jew boy?"

"Yeah, yeah, that was me,"

"What do you have to lose?"

"Umm… My dignity, social standards…" Mark started listing on his fingers.

"Forget about it," Collins closed Mark's hand. He pushed his friend out into the crowd. "What do you really have to lose?" he started to laugh again.

Mark sighed, "Great, how do I get into these situations?" he muttered under his breath. He looked around him and he saw a group of cluttered girls. They weren't the most popular girls at school, but they weren't unpopular. He walked up closer to them to find a friendly, familiar face. Mark was having trouble, plus they were so glued together, he would have a tough time prying them apart. Finally, he spotted some one a little outside of the clutter, and a kind face. Melanie, she was a bit of a theater nut, and wanted to move out to a Broadway stage. Mark was in A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum with Melanie, although she played the lead Philia, while he was just an extra in Miles Gloriosus army. Once again, he preferred to capture the performance than being caught in one. She was shorter for her age, but still very beautiful. She had short dark hair that just covered her ears, and big round hazel eyes, and she had very tan skin, which was weird, considering it was fall in New York. She wore a jean skirt with purple leg warmers and bright green shirt, and a matching purple leather jacket.

Mark approached her slowly, trying to gain some courage, and taking glances back at Collins who was smiling back at him, but eventually moved away to get something to drink. He glanced around and saw his dad standing close by, filming him about to ask some girl to dance. He took a deep breath, and tapped Melanie on the shoulder. She turned around to face a sheepish Mark.

"Hey Melanie, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe dance with me?" Mark smiled awkwardly at her.

She looked Mark up and down. 'That can't be a good sign…" Mark thought to himself.

"Um well," She looked down at her feet.

Fuck.

Dad gave Mark the thumbs up sign, and Mark had a strong urge to flip his father off.

"I'm not one for dancing," She explained.

Lie.

"So I think you'd better find someone who's, I dunno, more comfortable dancing, or whatever," she said, then turned back to her friends. They all laughed and clumped back together again.

Mark sighed and turned around to see Collins giving him a sympathetic smile and his dad waving a camera in his face. Mark put a hand up in front of his face and walked off. He really preferred to behind the camera than the spotlight.

Mark removed the lens off his camera and sat up on his bed and panned around the room. "Thirteen years, and I already have problems," he said aloud. But he knew, this was nothing yet.

Did you like it? Cool. If not, whatever. Review anyway! Criticism never hurt anybody! The more Reviews, the quicker I'll update.