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find_rightbrainTitle: In the Eyes of a Young Girl
Chapter: Seven - The Power Blows
Feedback: Will make me love you muchly.
Characters/Pairing: April, Maureen, Roger, Mark, Benny, Collins
Word Count: 1457
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Rent, and I'm extremely unlikely ever to. Shiny?
Chapter Index
Chapter Six
Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. - Anais Nin
April sat cross-legged on the broad window sill, not, as usual, with a notebook in hand, but rather simply staring out the window, watching the patterns the rain made as it trickled down the glass panes. She followed one drop with her finger, thoughtfully watching it slide down in a winding path, merge with other drops, speed out of sight.
April showers. Except… not.
Late September, actually, but it didn't matter. Eighteen days since she and Maureen had moved in, eleven days since her twentieth birthday, which had come and gone uneventfully—Maureen had apparently forgotten, the boys didn't know, and April hadn't felt like telling them. September or not, the phrase April showers stuck in her mind for some reason. Since Collins had first said it, Mark and Benny had picked up on the nickname too. With Maureen calling her 'Ril most of the time, Roger was the only one who ever really called her just April. It didn't bother her.
She pressed her forehead gently against the cool window, watched as her breath fogged the pane. She chuckled softly to herself as a children's song popped into her mind suddenly. "It's raining, it's pouring…"
Thunder crashed somewhere, loudly, though April couldn't see the flash of lightning. The lights flickered, and the power died suddenly, sending the entire loft into complete darkness.
"Damn," one of the boys said softly—April couldn't tell which.
Mark sighed. "Roger, could you go find the candles?"
"Why me?" Despite his protest, April could hear him moving, then shuffling through drawers, presumably searching for candles and matches.
From somewhere near the couch, Maureen answered pertly, "Because we're kind of hoping you'll trip in the dark and break your neck."
"Shut up, Johnson. I'm not going to—" A crash, a yelp. "Ow!"
Benny's sigh, and a muttered, "It figures." April giggled, quickly smothering it before Roger could identify the source.
"Where'd you hurt yourself?" she asked, trying to sound helpful.
For a few seconds, he didn't answer, and then said resentfully, "I ran into the counter." April had to cover her mouth with one hand to hold back her laughter.
After a moment or two, Roger struck a match and quickly lit a candle. The flickering golden light gave an odd cast to his features as he used the lit candle to light two or three more, setting the candles on the counter and the table.
Now that there was some light, Mark picked up his camera and panned across the loft, narrarating as he did. "September 21st, somewhere around 11 PM. The power's out… again. Just our luck." Lightning flashed in the sky, visible through the window; in the lightning and candle light, April saw Mark grin at the shot of her silhouetted against the window. He waited until the roll of thunder subsided before he spoke again. "And we're sitting here with nothing to do…"
"Bored out of our minds," Maureen said loudly. Mark swiveled the camera towards her—doubtless her goal in the first place—and smiled.
"Thank you, Maureen."
She beamed, and bounced off the couch. "Let's do something! Come on, we can play a game or something… It's better than just sitting here."
"What game?" Roger asked suspiciously. He sat on the table, careful not to knock over a candle, and watched Maureen cautiously. By now, he knew well enough to be suspicious of her intentions when she was too cheerful.
"I dunno…" She thought for a moment, then asked suddenly, "Do we have any alcohol?"
Quickly realizing what she was up to, April shot her a look. "No. We are not playing that game."
Maureen pouted. "Why not?"
"What game?" Roger repeated.
April ignored him and answered Maureen's question. "Because every time we do you embarrass me. Because for some reason you know exactly how. Besides which, you have a tendency to get me drunk."
Maureen grinned at her. "Well, that's just because it's fun… How about we play without the alcohol?"
April sighed. "Fine." She got off the window sill and walked over to the couch, sitting down beside Mark.
"Okay, this'll be fun," Maureen announced, and sat down on Mark's other side, waving Collins, Roger and Benny closer with one hand. "We're playing 'I Never', with ten fingers. Mark, put down the camera, you'll need your hands."
"What the hell is 'I Never'?" Roger asked.
Collins chuckled and sat on the floor in front of the couch. "Put up your hands like this," he said, demonstrating by holding up both hands, palm out. "Now I say something I've never done, and if you've done it, you put down one finger."
"And the last person who still has fingers up wins," Maureen said brightly.
"Or loses, depending on how you look at it," April added, smiling at Roger, who still looked incredulous.
"I'll go first," Collins said, and glanced at Benny. "I've never hit one of my friends."
Benny glared at him, but put one finger down. So did Roger, April, and Maureen. Mark blinked at them. "You all are a very violent group."
Collins shook his head. "Just temperamental, I think." He glanced to Roger, sitting directly to his left. "Your turn."
Roger gave him a look that seemed to say, Do I have to?, but after a moment he complied. "Fine. I've never… worn girl's clothes."
"That's not fair!" Maureen protested. "You can't just—" She stopped and looked at Mark, who had just put one finger down. "…Mark?"
It was hard to be sure in the flickering light of the candles, but it looked like he blushed. "I was just… I used to borrow clothes from some of my friends and… Well, you couldn't tell! They just… fit me and… um…"
Roger smirked. "Fine, I'll change it. I've never worn a dress."
Everyone stared at Mark when he didn't put his finger back up.
"…Mark?" April prompted gently.
"It was a bet. With Roger… and sort of Collins and Benny," he grumbled resentfully. This time he really did blush, unmistakably, then added unnecessarily, "I lost." He glared at her indignantly as she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
*
April woke up in the middle of the night—she couldn't tell what time it was, because the room was dark, the candles having guttered out some time while she slept. It was still storming outside. She sat up slowly, careful not to wake up Mark—she'd snuggled against him on the couch before falling asleep, rather than just going to bed. That week they had spent with Mark stuck on the futon with her had done quite a bit in eliminating any trace of awkwardness between the two of them. Besides…
As she slid off the couch, she could see Maureen and Benny both asleep on the futon, and Roger hadn't even gone to his room, just fallen asleep on the floor with a pillow. Collins must have gone to his room, but everyone else had apparently just dropped off one by one here in the living room. Not a surprise, given that they'd stayed up for quite a while, talking, now and then playing some insane game Maureen suggested, or just teasing one another (mostly Roger mocking Mark)…
April stood up, shivering a little. It had gotten cold in the night. She frowned at Roger for a moment, thinking that he had to be cold, sleeping on the floor without a blanket or anything. She had Mark, and Maureen and Benny had each other and the blankets on the futon, but Roger… She shook her head and walked into Roger and Mark's bedroom. She didn't have to linger long, just grabbed the blankets off of both beds and walked back out, back to the couch.
As she passed him, April draped one of the blankets over Roger, and then climbed back on the couch next to Mark, resting her head against his shoulder and tossing the blanket around both of them. As she did, Roger stirred, then opened his eyes and looked up at her. She could just barely see him in the faint, diffused light that came in through the windows. "What time is it?"
She shrugged and spoke quietly to avoid waking up anyone else. "I don't know. Late. Early. More likely the latter."
"Okay." A pause, and then he frowned—or she thought he did, though it was hard to tell in the dark. "Did you get me a blanket?"
"Yeah. I thought you might get cold."
"Oh… thank you."
She smiled. "No problem. Goodnight, Roger."
"…G'night, April."
Even with the warmth of the blanket and Mark beside her, she shivered. She liked the way her name sounded when he said it. April. Not April Showers or 'Ril, just… April.
Chapter Eight
Chapter: Seven - The Power Blows
Feedback: Will make me love you muchly.
Characters/Pairing: April, Maureen, Roger, Mark, Benny, Collins
Word Count: 1457
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Rent, and I'm extremely unlikely ever to. Shiny?
Chapter Index
Chapter Six
Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. - Anais Nin
April sat cross-legged on the broad window sill, not, as usual, with a notebook in hand, but rather simply staring out the window, watching the patterns the rain made as it trickled down the glass panes. She followed one drop with her finger, thoughtfully watching it slide down in a winding path, merge with other drops, speed out of sight.
April showers. Except… not.
Late September, actually, but it didn't matter. Eighteen days since she and Maureen had moved in, eleven days since her twentieth birthday, which had come and gone uneventfully—Maureen had apparently forgotten, the boys didn't know, and April hadn't felt like telling them. September or not, the phrase April showers stuck in her mind for some reason. Since Collins had first said it, Mark and Benny had picked up on the nickname too. With Maureen calling her 'Ril most of the time, Roger was the only one who ever really called her just April. It didn't bother her.
She pressed her forehead gently against the cool window, watched as her breath fogged the pane. She chuckled softly to herself as a children's song popped into her mind suddenly. "It's raining, it's pouring…"
Thunder crashed somewhere, loudly, though April couldn't see the flash of lightning. The lights flickered, and the power died suddenly, sending the entire loft into complete darkness.
"Damn," one of the boys said softly—April couldn't tell which.
Mark sighed. "Roger, could you go find the candles?"
"Why me?" Despite his protest, April could hear him moving, then shuffling through drawers, presumably searching for candles and matches.
From somewhere near the couch, Maureen answered pertly, "Because we're kind of hoping you'll trip in the dark and break your neck."
"Shut up, Johnson. I'm not going to—" A crash, a yelp. "Ow!"
Benny's sigh, and a muttered, "It figures." April giggled, quickly smothering it before Roger could identify the source.
"Where'd you hurt yourself?" she asked, trying to sound helpful.
For a few seconds, he didn't answer, and then said resentfully, "I ran into the counter." April had to cover her mouth with one hand to hold back her laughter.
After a moment or two, Roger struck a match and quickly lit a candle. The flickering golden light gave an odd cast to his features as he used the lit candle to light two or three more, setting the candles on the counter and the table.
Now that there was some light, Mark picked up his camera and panned across the loft, narrarating as he did. "September 21st, somewhere around 11 PM. The power's out… again. Just our luck." Lightning flashed in the sky, visible through the window; in the lightning and candle light, April saw Mark grin at the shot of her silhouetted against the window. He waited until the roll of thunder subsided before he spoke again. "And we're sitting here with nothing to do…"
"Bored out of our minds," Maureen said loudly. Mark swiveled the camera towards her—doubtless her goal in the first place—and smiled.
"Thank you, Maureen."
She beamed, and bounced off the couch. "Let's do something! Come on, we can play a game or something… It's better than just sitting here."
"What game?" Roger asked suspiciously. He sat on the table, careful not to knock over a candle, and watched Maureen cautiously. By now, he knew well enough to be suspicious of her intentions when she was too cheerful.
"I dunno…" She thought for a moment, then asked suddenly, "Do we have any alcohol?"
Quickly realizing what she was up to, April shot her a look. "No. We are not playing that game."
Maureen pouted. "Why not?"
"What game?" Roger repeated.
April ignored him and answered Maureen's question. "Because every time we do you embarrass me. Because for some reason you know exactly how. Besides which, you have a tendency to get me drunk."
Maureen grinned at her. "Well, that's just because it's fun… How about we play without the alcohol?"
April sighed. "Fine." She got off the window sill and walked over to the couch, sitting down beside Mark.
"Okay, this'll be fun," Maureen announced, and sat down on Mark's other side, waving Collins, Roger and Benny closer with one hand. "We're playing 'I Never', with ten fingers. Mark, put down the camera, you'll need your hands."
"What the hell is 'I Never'?" Roger asked.
Collins chuckled and sat on the floor in front of the couch. "Put up your hands like this," he said, demonstrating by holding up both hands, palm out. "Now I say something I've never done, and if you've done it, you put down one finger."
"And the last person who still has fingers up wins," Maureen said brightly.
"Or loses, depending on how you look at it," April added, smiling at Roger, who still looked incredulous.
"I'll go first," Collins said, and glanced at Benny. "I've never hit one of my friends."
Benny glared at him, but put one finger down. So did Roger, April, and Maureen. Mark blinked at them. "You all are a very violent group."
Collins shook his head. "Just temperamental, I think." He glanced to Roger, sitting directly to his left. "Your turn."
Roger gave him a look that seemed to say, Do I have to?, but after a moment he complied. "Fine. I've never… worn girl's clothes."
"That's not fair!" Maureen protested. "You can't just—" She stopped and looked at Mark, who had just put one finger down. "…Mark?"
It was hard to be sure in the flickering light of the candles, but it looked like he blushed. "I was just… I used to borrow clothes from some of my friends and… Well, you couldn't tell! They just… fit me and… um…"
Roger smirked. "Fine, I'll change it. I've never worn a dress."
Everyone stared at Mark when he didn't put his finger back up.
"…Mark?" April prompted gently.
"It was a bet. With Roger… and sort of Collins and Benny," he grumbled resentfully. This time he really did blush, unmistakably, then added unnecessarily, "I lost." He glared at her indignantly as she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
April woke up in the middle of the night—she couldn't tell what time it was, because the room was dark, the candles having guttered out some time while she slept. It was still storming outside. She sat up slowly, careful not to wake up Mark—she'd snuggled against him on the couch before falling asleep, rather than just going to bed. That week they had spent with Mark stuck on the futon with her had done quite a bit in eliminating any trace of awkwardness between the two of them. Besides…
As she slid off the couch, she could see Maureen and Benny both asleep on the futon, and Roger hadn't even gone to his room, just fallen asleep on the floor with a pillow. Collins must have gone to his room, but everyone else had apparently just dropped off one by one here in the living room. Not a surprise, given that they'd stayed up for quite a while, talking, now and then playing some insane game Maureen suggested, or just teasing one another (mostly Roger mocking Mark)…
April stood up, shivering a little. It had gotten cold in the night. She frowned at Roger for a moment, thinking that he had to be cold, sleeping on the floor without a blanket or anything. She had Mark, and Maureen and Benny had each other and the blankets on the futon, but Roger… She shook her head and walked into Roger and Mark's bedroom. She didn't have to linger long, just grabbed the blankets off of both beds and walked back out, back to the couch.
As she passed him, April draped one of the blankets over Roger, and then climbed back on the couch next to Mark, resting her head against his shoulder and tossing the blanket around both of them. As she did, Roger stirred, then opened his eyes and looked up at her. She could just barely see him in the faint, diffused light that came in through the windows. "What time is it?"
She shrugged and spoke quietly to avoid waking up anyone else. "I don't know. Late. Early. More likely the latter."
"Okay." A pause, and then he frowned—or she thought he did, though it was hard to tell in the dark. "Did you get me a blanket?"
"Yeah. I thought you might get cold."
"Oh… thank you."
She smiled. "No problem. Goodnight, Roger."
"…G'night, April."
Even with the warmth of the blanket and Mark beside her, she shivered. She liked the way her name sounded when he said it. April. Not April Showers or 'Ril, just… April.
Chapter Eight