I don't own RENT. Jonathan Larson does. I only play around with it.

Chapter 1

The bell ringing jarred Roger out of his daze. His gaze dropped from staring out the open classroom door to his blank English essay booklet. It was May 23, 1981, and he was finally free to enjoy the summer before his senior year.

Or so he wished.

Roger stared at his blank essay, defeated. Great, he thought. I'm such an idiot. I don't have anything written because I had my head in the clouds again and was thinking about… her.

Her. Andy Conway, the most popular girl in school, to be exact. Roger had liked her since before he'd ever liked girls. He dreamed about her at night. He was obsessed and he knew it.

But had he perhaps gone too far this time?

The teacher, Mrs. Simon, came around and gathered up the other students' completed essays. They filed out quickly, but Roger stayed where he was, his heart sinking.

"Nothing, Roger?" she asked him expectantly, looking down at him. Roger shook his head. "Why don't you have anything?"

Roger blushed. "I was thinking about it…" he said slowly. "I just… didn't put it down."

Mrs. Simon sighed. "Well, I'm going to have to speak to your parents about this, you know," she said.

"I know," Roger said.

"What's got you so distracted, Roger?" Mrs. Simon asked. "You're smart, Roger, so this is unacceptable. Is it a girl, grades, parents, or sports?"

Roger looked up, surprised. "Uh… a girl," he said. "How did you know?"

"Because I've taught her for a long time, and in all my years of teaching, with boys, it's been one of those four things that preoccupy their minds, especially around the end of school," Mrs. Simon said.

Roger didn't say anything.

"But I can see I'm not going to get very far in this argument. I'll see what I can do about your paper, but if I can't convince the school you can finish it over the summer and have it submitted to them by two weeks before school resumes, I'm certain they may have you repeat the year." She looked down at him again. "I'm sorry, Roger. You can go."

Roger gathered his things together without saying a word. "Have a good summer, Mrs. Simon," he muttered, and then he hurried out of the classroom.

He was so distracted by his dismal essay that he didn't watch where he was going. As a result, he ran headlong into someone.

"Hey!" yelled a girl's voice, as books and a backpack went flying.

Roger looked up. It was Andy Conway. At 17 years old, she was already painfully beautiful. Her wavy red hair cascaded down her back, and her blue eyes mesmerized Roger, no matter where he was, even if she wasn't there. Roger had loved her for years, and suddenly, here she was.

"Oh… hi, Andy," Roger stammered. "Sorry."

Andy looked at him and he could see why Jordan "Flash" Maguire sauntered down the hall, the way he did when Andy was with him. Her eyes were blue, like sapphires that sparkled from within her heart-shaped face. Her skin was perfect. She smiled nervously at him. Her teeth were perfect, too.

"Hi," she said. "It's all right. You're Roger Davis, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "You're Andy Conway."

"I know I am," she said, smiling nervously again.

"Sorry I ran into you," Roger stammered, as he helped her pick up her books. "I need to, um, watch where I'm, um, going more often."

"It's OK," Andy said, as they stood up together. "So what are your plans for the summer?"

"Oh… I dunno… probably working for my dad," Roger said uncomfortably. "Either that or playing gigs around the city."

"You're a musician?"

"Yeah, I, um, play guitar," he said. "I write songs, too."

"Really?" Andy asked. She seemed pretty interested. "Can I come listen to them sometime?"

"Sure," Roger said, and he took a deep breath. "We're playing at, um, the club tonight. Will you come and watch?"

"I'll see what I'm doing," Andy said, "but if I'm free, I'm there."

"Great," Roger said, grinning down at her. "See you later, Andy. Have a good start of the summer."

"You too, Roger," Andy replied, smiling back at him. "Bye."

Roger watched her leave and then he left as well, his heart soaring.

"Mark," he said eagerly, a little while later, when he arrived at the Cohen residence, instead of going straight home that afternoon, "you are not gonna believe who chose today, of all days, to speak to me today."

Mark looked up. "Who, Roger?" he asked.

"Guess," Roger said, grinning broadly.

"I don't want to guess," Mark said, from where he was sitting in the living room, fiddling with his camera. "Just tell me."

"Andy Conway."

Mark looked up. "Andy Conway?" he asked. "As in, the Andy Conway, the most popular girl in school?"

Roger grinned. "Yes."

Mark looked genuinely surprised. "How did this happen to you, of all people?" he asked.

"I, um, sort of ran into her," Roger said, blushing. "And in case you didn't notice, Mark, it was more likely to happen to me than to you."

Mark shook his head and chose to ignore this remark. "You seem to have a thing about doing that to girls," he said. "Did you at least apologize?"

"Of course," Roger said. "She said she'd come listen to me play this weekend at the club."

"That's great, Roger. But be careful about her boyfriend."

"Who?"

"Her steady boyfriend, Jordan Maguire; he's the captain of the football team and has the body of a 28-year-old."

"Ooh, I'm scared," Roger said mischievously, grinning. "I can handle him, Mark, don't worry. It's not like I'm gonna ask Andy to cheat on him or anything."

"I didn't say you would, Roger. Anyway, congratulations. Just be careful, OK?"

"Thanks, I will," Roger said, and he went over to his guitar and began to tune it.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Roger spoke into the microphone. "We had a great time tonight." He looked out into the crowd and saw Andy standing with Jordan. "We'll be back tomorrow night to perform for you great folks again. Have a great start to the summer. God bless and good night."

Roger turned off the microphone and disassembled the equipment with the band. Andy came up to him when she saw he was almost finished. "Hey, Andy," he said. "So what did you think?"

"I thought it was great," Andy said, smiling at him. "I hope I can see you guys play again. I wish I could play like that. It's so natural for you."

Roger smiled. "Well, we'll be around this summer," he said. "Maybe you can see us again then. I get special backstage passes for friends."

Andy nodded and smiled back at him.

"Come on, Andy," Jordan said. "I told your dad I'd get you home by 11."

"Forget my dad for a second, Jordan," Andy said. "It is summer and I'm 17 years old. I want to talk to Roger."

"Fine," Jordan said. "Five minutes."

Andy rolled her eyes as he walked away. "Don't mind him," she said, brushing it off as Roger gave her a concerned look. "He's just crabby I made him come."

"It's too bad he didn't enjoy it," Roger said, sending a sour look Jordan's way when Andy wasn't looking. "I'm glad you did, though."

"Me, too," Andy said, grinning. "Well, I should go… I'll see you around, Roger."

"Bye, Andy," Roger said, and he went back to what he'd been doing before she came to talk to him.

"You don't talk to her!" Jordan yelled, half an hour later, as he came back into the club, just as Roger was getting ready to leave with his band, after they'd loaded their equipment into the van.

"Don't talk to whom?" Roger asked, feigning innocence, but he had to duck a punch all the same. He quickly slipped off his guitar and kicked it into a corner. Jordan Maguire obviously had no idea how much trouble he would be in if he messed with Roger's guitar.

"You don't talk to Andy!" Jordan shouted, as Roger backed up. "How many times do I have to tell you this in school, Roger? You're a freak and she's better than anyone you'll ever get!" Jordan punched Roger in the face and his head snapped back and bounced forward. "Do you listen when I talk? HEY, I asked you a question, freak!" Jordan grabbed Roger by the back of his shirt, as he was walking away from him, and spun him around. "Do you LISTEN when I'm talking to you?"

"Huh?" Roger asked. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

Enraged, Jordan punched Roger in the ribs. He groaned in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, as he sank to his knees.

"Jordan!" Andy's voice rang out from somewhere. "Jordan, stop it! He's just a friend!"

"He's just a friend, huh?" Jordan spat. "I told you, Andy, you don't make friends with people like this."

"And what kind of people would this be, exactly?" Roger asked, looking up. He paid dearly for his remark, as Jordan landed a right hook on the top of his head. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he vaguely saw Andy come forward and roughly push Jordan away. She was surprisingly strong.

"I said stop it! You're the one being the freak, Jordan! All he did was talk to me yesterday, and now you're fighting with him! Calm down," she said firmly, staring him down.

"Calm down?!" Jordan snarled. "I can't calm down, Andy. You know you don't have to associate yourself with yuppie scum like him. You're gonna pay, Davis, I swear."

Roger spat some blood out of his mouth as Andy bent down to help him up. "Thanks, Andy," he said to her. "Will a credit card be OK?" he asked Jordan.

This only frustrated Jordan more and he picked up a trash can and upended it on Roger's head. Roger threw up his hands to protect himself as the steel can came down on his head. It only added to his humiliation. Andy was right; they had only been talking the night before.

Jordan finally walked away from Roger, as security guards came running over. He acted as though nothing had happened and made excuses.

"We're cool," he said. "I was just a little rattled… the heat of summer, you know… got the blood pumping…"

Roger could only watch as the guards accepted Jordan's excuses as true. Andy stared at him. "Are you OK?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Roger said, brushing himself off, feeling very disgusted. "I can take care of myself."

"Well, you'd better stay away from me, Roger Davis," Andy said suddenly, "because as you can see, Jordan has a really bad temper. I might not be there to save your ass next time."

"I can take care of myself, Andy," Roger repeated, stung by her words. "I was doing fine."

He watched as she slowly reached out and wiped a bit of blood off his lower lip. "Sure you were, tiger," she said quietly. Slowly, she sent a private smile his way.

Andy turned and walked away. Roger sighed and went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. Then he walked outside, running his fingers through his hair as he went. He realized he'd forgotten his guitar in the club, so he went back for it.

When he came outside again, he saw Jordan and Andy having a heated argument a few feet away from the building. He couldn't hear most of what they said, but he caught two sentences.

"Here's your ring," Andy said, and she handed him something small and shiny.

Jordan scowled and glared at her. "You know what? Whatever, it's your loss," he said, and he stalked away.

Roger watched from a distance, but he didn't hover. What had just happened was obvious, but he didn't want to bother Andy. Before he could walk away, Andy turned and saw him. He froze.

"Were you listening to that?" she asked accusingly.

"Oh… no, I was just getting ready to leave." He indicated nervously to his guitar.

"I guess you can always hear us," she said.

"Well, everybody shouts…" Roger said nervously, trying to make it look like he really hadn't heard. Then Andy held up the ring Jordan had just given back to her. Roger raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Andy, I'm so sorry."

Andy grimaced. "I'm not," she said. "He wasn't right for me, anyway. We've gotten tired of each other. We've needed a break for a long time. Well, I guess this is the break I get."

"Are you gonna be OK?" Roger asked. "Can I do anything?"

"No, it's OK," Andy said. "I'll be fine. You said you're playing here tomorrow night again?"

"Yeah," Roger said. She was trying to change the subject, and he knew it; but he was glad for the change. "Are you gonna come watch us again?"

"Yeah," Andy said, smiling. "Can I?"

"Of course," Roger said. "It's nice to have a fan." He looked down at her. "And hey, I was wondering… could we, like, get lunch or something sometime?"

Andy smiled. "Sure," she said, "I'd like lunch. Just say when."

"How about tomorrow? I'll pick you up at noon. Then we can figure out what we want to do next weekend."

"OK," Andy said, and Roger leaned down to kiss her. She looked up at him, surprised. "What was that for?"

"I've wanted to do that since first grade," Roger said, smiling.

"Well, I'm glad we got that out of the way," Andy said, smiling up at him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Roger."

"Tomorrow," Roger agreed, nodding, and when Andy had turned around and left, he ran to his car, victorious.

I'm back! I know, I know, I've been gone from fan fiction for a long time now— since the end of July! But my life got insanely busy around the middle of August, with working two jobs and school and since then, I haven't had any inspiration for any stories whatsoever, and even if I did, I haven't had any time to write it down! But my life is finally slowing down slightly (keyword: slightly), with a weekend off from work, so I'm writing while I have the chance!

Anyways, about this story. I know it seems really familiar right now, and quite like a pre Rent story I wrote previously and deleted. But things will be different this time, because I'm altering it a lot. I didn't like the way it turned out previously— that happens sometimes, though, right? So I'm trying it again, though differently. I hope you will like it. So far, I don't know if I like it or not; it's just a story to get me back into the swing of all things fan fiction, since I've been on a three-month hiatus!

And yes, Rosablasifann08, before you ask, Andy's name is from Strong Medicine! Sorry, I couldn't resist... :) You know me too well. :)

Anyways, please review. Like I said before, this story isn't my favorite at this point; it's simply getting me back into the swing of all things fan fiction. Please tell me what you think so far. I will post up more as soon as I can!

Until next time, lots of love,

Renthead07