Quick Note: (well maybe not that quick) This is my first Rent fic, I love the play so much I just had to write this. As the summary says, it's about when Roger, Mark, Benny, Collins and Maureen used to live together. It takes place about a year before the play starts and I'm hoping to include a lot of the things mentioned in the play. Since they really didn't meet before the play started, I'm afraid Mimi and Angel won't be in this (though I may find a way to sneak in a cameo or two)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Rent characters. They are the property of Jonathan Larson. But, I do own this story and any unfamiliar characters. ENJOY!!

Chapter 1: The Past and the Present

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"Mark! I'm home!" came the voice of Maureen Johnson as she unlocked the door and headed into the apartment.

          "Roger! Benny! Collins! Anyone home?"

Hearing no voice in response, she put down her keys and went through the living room to the bedroom she and her boyfriend Mark shared. It was the biggest of the three bedrooms in the apartment, but not by much. The whole place was small, not nearly big enough for five people to live in, but somehow they managed. She sat down on the bed, taking out her lipstick and reapplying it out of habit. Maureen had been with Mark for two months now, and had just recently moved in with him and his best friends, Roger Davis, the singer/songwriter with a drug addiction, Tom Collins, the teacher with gay pride, and Benny Coffin, the dreamer who hoped to one day get out of the city slums.

Maureen absentmindedly smoothed the covers on the bed, thinking about Mark when she heard a crash in the other room. Quickly getting to her feet, she went into the adjacent room to find Roger sprawled on the floor, obviously high.

"Roger!" she cried, rushing to his side. Roger's eyes rolled around and focused on her as he muttered a few indistinct words. On the nightstand was a white powder. She stared at it then jerked her eyes back to him.

"Roger what are you doing? Mark said you were gonna stop doing this," she said, grabbing his arm and helping him back into his bed. Roger responded by reaching for the powder, but Maureen snatched it away.

"Hey! I'm back!" came a call from the door.

"Mark! Good you're home!" Maureen called, leaving Roger to meet him in the living room. Mark greeted her with a kiss, hugging her gently; he immediately noticed something was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked, brushing the hair from her face.

"Roger," she replied simply.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see what I can do," Mark said, kissing Maureen on the cheek before going in to help his friend.

"Roger? Roger what's going on?" he asked gently, walking into his room. Roger looked over at Mark, but didn't say anything.

"What happened buddy? You said you would stop, why're you doing this to yourself again?"

More silence from Roger. Mark sighed and sat down next to him.

"Are you okay?"

Silence. Mark touched his arm reassuringly.

"You're shivering." he said slowly, hoping if he kept talking Roger would eventually speak. But he didn't. Mark stood up quickly.

"Fine, if this is what you want, I don't care. Go ahead and ruin yourself, it's not my problem," he snapped, then paused and lightened his tone, "Let me know if I can get you anything." he turned on his heel and walked out, angry that he let his annoyance at Roger get to him.

 He remembered when Roger used to be a well-known singer, whose songs were amazing and almost famous. He had been so successful, but one mishap and he had fallen into the world of drug addiction and try as he might, Mark knew he couldn't do anything to fix things. That was what drove him crazy, Roger was his best friend and he couldn't help him. Mark had met Roger when he was only 12 years old, and they had been best friends since. Laughing to himself, Mark remembered how Roger used to write songs on his guitar and he would film the music videos; they had always done stupid things like that as kids, but they never lost their passions as they grew up. Mark still loved to film things, and Roger used to, not so much anymore, love playing his guitar and writing songs.

But everything's different now, Mark thought to himself, We've both changed. He could only hope that he didn't lose the friendship he had had for so long because of something so stupid as drugs. 

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So did you like it? Hate it? Let me know, I'm interested to see if I should continue.