La Vie Boheme

independent mark cohen from the 1996 musical RENT using faceclaim adam kantor

[mecchanic]

     ”I’m stoppin’, I’m stoppin’!” He’s startled by the minor interruption to his daydreaming, but nonetheless intrigued.

      “A filmographer? Like a director?” He listens to the man’s spiel, confused as to whether or not he should take offense to the guy’s quick rambling, but chooses to let it slide. He was pretty dirty.”Alright, just… calm down, take a breather. Y’look like you’re about to burst a blood vessel’r somethin’.” 

     ”You wanna interview me?” He chuckles. “I ain’t never been interviewed before, unless you count the time that kid got stuck in the fence——” long story, may or may not have been his fault, but that was besides the point. “But I don’t mind if you wanna.”

[adlibscript]

            "Uh, yeah, I'm a director--"  Honestly, he used the word filmographer because it sounded better than 'cameraman,' and he didn't expect anyone to know the real definition enough to question it. It meant just about nothing, maybe that he had a filmography. 

             "...A director, an interviewer, a news junkie, an editor, and... All of the above. That doesn't matter right now. I would like to interview you, yes-- You really don't mind, huh? Let's start right away, it won't take too long: What's your name?"

[adlibscript]

"I accidentally spilled soda on your camera but I am 99% sure it's okay."

## "Oh my fucking **God**, Roger.”          “**Why** were you handling soda near my camera? You fuckin’ _wonder_ why I don’t ever let it out of my sight! _Now_ what am I supposed to do? Film things using only a stick and a piece of paper?”

[adlibscript]

constantquibbling​ is an eye-catcher.

          "You gave me a spark-- an idea, a muse--!!"

         "What do people of our generation love more than standing out? Do you mind if I film you? An interview, we'll call it. I can put my pen to paper, too: write a snazzy tune for the background, maybe you can talk about your individuality," If only he didn't sound like a madman; if one hadn't seen his face, they'd envision someone who's hair was spun into messy cotton and eyes bloodshot like a corpse.

         "I'll pay you fifty smackers-- just give me a short clip and if you want, your name."

[adlibscript]

mecchanic didn't ask for a hounding reporter.

           "hey, hey, wait. Stop. Right there!"

           "Um-- I'm a filmographer. My name is Markus Clark Cohen, and I just-- well, I noticed you're pretty... dirty. No, I mean, tired," he sighed, both in frustration and defeat. "...Please don't take it the wrong way, and I know this is kind of out of the blue, but I'm making a short film on the working class, and..."

            "Look, would you like to be interviewed?"

[adlibscript]

do you find guitarists hot, Mark?

❝I’d say that I find the musically inclined _appealing._  How   about   **that**?❞

[adlibscript]

some people fade like evening / some just never go away but there’s simply no place safer than the bank the day after the robbery

I. II. III. IV.

[adlibscript]

one-song-to-leave-behind:

When my days with you weren’t limited? Yeah…I remember. So many times I’d dream the drugs, HIV, losing everyone…it was just a big elaborate nightmare and I’d wake up with everyone still here…

”—Yeah.”

”I remember. The good ol’ days, huh?” Alright, that was cliché, but it was true—and at this point, Roger was too tired to care. He didn’t even feel like himself—he felt like a shell. A simple shell that was about to be crushed in a bunch of tiny pieces…Mark was the only thing that was holding his grip on reality…then again, that’s always how it was. “Back when we were young…though…we’re not that old, I guess.” _ _

At least you aren’t.

                  "Yeah, the good days. When the lights were on all the time, and we only took shots for vaccines. Believe it or not, we're not old," he said, confirming Roger's statement. And that's what makes this worse, was he wanted to add. He wouldn't. He decided now would be the time to turn it back around, to shine a little light in darkness's eyes, to hide the pain they were both feeling in stride. He'd rather share one last laugh with Roger than one last sob.

            Besides, what could hurt more than this insidious, nails-on-the-chalkboard feeling?

            "Every year after 21 is just a fucking ripoff, I've noticed."  

            A pause and a sullen half smile washed over him, painting blue halftones under his sarcasm. "You're not waiting for anything anymore. You're past being tall enough for the amusement park, past being a teen, into being an adult. You're able to drive and able to drink. What else is there to wait for? Disappointment?" he laughed a little, and his half-smile turned into one that was forced, but full.

[adlibscript]

Can I touch your hair

“Uh— I mean… I-I-… Uh…”

[adlibscript]

Have you ever thought about making a documentary of people stubbing their toes?

"If I take the garbage footage of Roger from my latest one,

——————-it’d be done already!”

[adlibscript]

hey so I named a pet goldfish Roger but one day he randomly up and died

                     ...

[strugglingflames]

Say hello huh…? If only it was just that…I don’t want to say goodbye to you…

“Of course I will…I think…” He was interrupted by a cough, and quickly moved his hand over his mouth, waiting a moment before continuing. “They’ll all be proud of you…I know I am.” Mark had been strong. Maybe Roger pretended to be and acted it, but it was obvious who the real strong one here was. Mark had always been there for him, and stuck with him through this whole hellbent ride… “And one day you’ll get to tell them all yourself—but hopefully that’s far off. You’re going to get the long healthy life we never had.”

“Hey Mark…?” I’m scared…tell me everything is gonna be okay. Even if you don’t believe it…tell me. Please? “…thank you. For not leaving like everyone else. For staying with me through everything. Even when I didn’t deserve it…”

[adlibscript]

        What the hell is a long healthy life when everyone around you is dying? 

        They said you could only die once, but for Mark, it felt like he'd died enough to fill up an entire cemetery with centuries of lives. Hundreds of years, all summed up with ignorantly blissful headstones and flowers and offerings. ...Yeah, that's what he felt like. 

          Decorated death.

       "Remember," he started, ignoring Roger's dampening confessions. (To remember someone at their weakest isn't to remember them at all, he had long ago decided. Roger wasn't one to open up like this. It's not who he had come to be. A different sound at the end of the song isn't dynamism, it's a broken record.)

                                      "------when life wasn't just a countdown to death?"

[minotauri]

list of aus i really need to see written:

i got up at 2 am to get some snacks at the convenience store down the street and opened my door to find you trying to sleep on the floor of the hallway because your roommate has his fiancée over so i guess i’ll lend you my couch for the night AU

my stupid cat sneaked out on the balcony and into your open window and he has this habit of destroying furniture and pissing everywhere so i followed him inside and you came home earlier than i expected and found me in the middle of your living room but i swear i’m not a burglar ok

you left your USB flash drive in the library computer and i had to go through your files to figure out who you are and i ended up reading the entirety of this book you’re working on and wow you’re actually really good???? 

i was trying to read in the park and your stray football fucking knocked me unconscious

this really cute guy rented the apartment over the bakery/flower shop/store i work at and i keep trying to find excuses to be outside when he comes home

it’s 3 am and you’re blasting off classic rock at full volume and your music taste might be awesome but sOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP YOU SHITHEAD

my best mate somehow fucked up my tv and tonight is the season premiere of this show i really really like and no livestream will work on my computer so will you please let me watch it on your tv i promise i’ll go back to my flat once it’s over

look i’m glad you have a healthy sex life and all but will you please try not to pierce a hole through my ceiling with your bed thanks

[bunney]

What doesn’t kill me should’ve tried harder

[adlibscript]

Have you ever took pictures of Roger that he doesn't know about?

"...Accidentally."

[adlibscript]

Markyyyy sell us your soullllll

"Unfortunately———-

                       …I’d love to.”

[adlibscript]

one-song-to-leave-behind is on the fringes:

I wish that too, Mark. I wish that too. After putting on a tough face for so long, he was tired. He was tired of being strong, tired of pretending that he didn’t feel like he was dying, both emotionally and physically—but he had kept it in for this long. He wasn’t about to break down during his last moments. No—he’d stay strong for Mark. He looked and sounded weak and he knew it, the least he could do was hold it together for his best friend. “Everything is going to be fine, just fine…we’ve known this was coming for a long time.” His voice was weak as he fought back tears that oh so desperately wanted to rise to the surface. “Maybe—maybe I’ll finally get to see everyone, yeah?” April…Angel…Mimi…Collins. The disease had robbed them of so much of their family already, and now it was Roger’s turn. He didn’t know whether or not he’d actually be able to see everyone, Roger wasn’t one much for religion after all…but the thought seemed nice. “Besides…” he gave a soft chuckle. “Without all the bills I caused, you may finally be able to live someplace warm…”

        Maybe Mark would-- per usual-- mix humor with defeat, but today, here, now, just didn't seem like the time. It was Roger this time, he thought, and that made it different. He wasn't sure what made it different, whether it didn't feel like defeat just yet, or whether Mark had known Roger had been licked from the start: if maybe everything from April's fall, to this moment, was a god damned comedy, and the studio audience had now left as the curtains closed.

         To the soulless audience, the one without a single breath, he wanted to scream, to shout and stomp his feet, to cry at the clouds and ask them why they'd darken their hue now. For Roger, though, he knew he had to remain strong. For Angel, for Mimi, for Collins-- he had to keep strong. 

               Don't let their deaths be in vain.

     "I prefer life to sun, I think," he paused, thinking a bit harder about what to say. There wasn't much to say. "--I guess they're not really mutually exclusive, but you know what I mean. Anyways, I--... I think I should ask you to 'say hello for me,' huh?"

[bethwoodvilles]

[adlibscript]

RENT: Filmed Live on Broadway » gifset per song - Tango: Maureen