Live

This was an entry for speedrent, my first, actually. I'm not too proud of it, but enjoy! I do not own Rent.

Mark stared at his footage, eyes half open. The images flickered before him, the shining moments of the past year flying by.He saw Roger and Mimi, Maureen and Joanne, Collins and Angel.

Angel.

She'd been dead for a month, and yet he still couldn't get into his mind the fact that she was gone. Collins, they hadn't seen much of him lately- he left the city shortly after Angel passed on. It held too many memories, was his reason. With Roger gone, Mimi hardly herself, and Maureen and Joanne dropping by only every so often, Mark found that he was more alone than he'd ever been.

The Life. Maureen's Protest. New Years. Angel, in the hospital. The memories floated by on the screen, and he hardly paid them any notice anymore. He'd seen them all before, he knew what happened. He could record history, but he could never change it.

Mark fast-forwarded through most of his footage. At that moment, he didn't really care what outfit Maureen decided to parade about in, or what song Roger was attempting to play. He'd seen it all before.

Suddenly, he stopped. Angel, staring straight at him, a smile on her face. He re-winded to the beginning of the clip.

This, he hadn't seen.

"Hey, Markie!" Screen Angel cried. She was blurry and out of focus, but he could hear her loud and clear. "Well, you and Collins are out getting food, which I simply love you for, by the way. And since Roger is being his oh-so talkative self…" The camera panned away from her face and focused on Roger's closed bedroom door, where the strangled chords of Musetta's Waltz were blaring. "And you left your camera at home for once, I thought I'd leave you a message!"

Angel winked and smiled. Mark simply stared, How did he miss this?

"What to say, what to say…" She giggled, pretending to think. It's about the only time Mark's ever seen her speechless. "Listen, okay? This is important."

Mark nodded, half to Angel, half to himself.

"Mark, put down your camera. Just for a sec. I mean, I guess what I'm saying is…" Angel sighed, staring right at him now. "You've got so much time left, you know that? Roger, Meems, Tom and I…we don't. I mean, you don't really need this silly old thing, do you? I guess, what I'm telling you to do is just…live. Live your own life, instead of living off your memories. No day but today, honey. The time is now.

"I wish I could say all this to your face, I do…And when you see all this, you're probably going to kill me." Mark's eyes filled with ironic tears as he watched her bite her lip, her dark eyes straying from him. "But I don't know how to tell you any other way. Listen to me, Mark, please…you don't listen to Roger, but he only means good, you know? He cares so much about you…we all do. So listen, hon. Not for me, but for yourself. Put this thing down, and go out. Live."

Angel was silent for a moment, as was Mark. He suddenly felt as if she were right there now, telling him these words as she stood in front of him.

"I know your film is important to you, sweet, and I'm not telling you to abandon it. I could never tell you that. But don't let it consume you, okay? Maybe sometimes, just leave your camera at home…it's not really that hard. I'm only saying this because I love you, Mark, because I care. Don't get old before your time. You're 23 and perfectly healthy…"

She trailed off. "Live. I don't know what else to say…just live."

Suddenly, her head turned and Collins' voice rang out off screen. The image jostled, as Angel probably put the camera down quickly.

"Hungry, babe?"

"You have no ide-"

The screen went black. Mark stared for a few moments more, simply letting the tears fall. Live. Angel cared so much…more than she should have, more than anyone else, she cared. And she was right, Roger cared, even when he was being an ass. And she was right, Mark was young and healthy. And Angel, he thought bitterly, was gone before her time.

He needed fresh air. He needed time to think. He'd go for a walk, he decided finally.

Angel was right, he would live his own life. He pulled on his jacket and his scarf. He would quit Buzzline tomorrow. He would take chances. He would live.

He walked out the door, a new smile on his face. And even though he felt a new burst of inspiration, his camera stayed home.