Disclaimer: I do not own Rent. I wish I did, but I don't. If I did I probably would not have written this.
Chapter 1Marli Ryan was stressed. Just one look at her could prove it. There were dark circles under her eyes and she was a bit unsteady. In fact, if you didn't know her, you'd think she was drunk, or something of that nature. But the workaholic Marli didn't get drunk, not since her twenty-first birthday. After that, it had gotten old.
Nowadays, her drug of choice was her job. She was an up-an-coming screenwriter. Already, two of her scripts had been made into critically acclaimed movies. Her latest script was slightly autobiographical and had the chance of being very controversial. She found someone willing to produce it, but no one had wanted to direct it. It was about a promising young playwright, fresh out of an ivy league college living in the slums because her wealthy parents refuse to pay for her expenses anymore. That wasn't the part that would cause problems though. That part was the graphic scenes of slum or "bohemian" as it was often called, life. She was glad to be out of that period in her life, she felt the story needed to be told.
She had been told by the producer to try and find an unknown director. They'd be more likely to make such a film. After all, they didn't have a reputation to risk. Marli, however, knew no unknown filmmakers.
She was trying to clear her mind by looking through some old pictures from her life at Brown, back in her college days. There was her an that business major, Benny. She wondered whatever happened to him. Next was a picture of she and Benny's roommate, Mark. Ah, she had some classes with Mark Cohen. Both film majors. She wondered whatever happened to him. That guy, he was a god with a camera. And that's when it hit her! Mark was probably still making films! And as far as she knew, he was an unknown! Last she heard, he was still living in New York. It was perfect.
Marli picked up her phone and dialed information, asking for the number of a Mr. Mark Cohen. The operator connected her. She was anxious as the phone rang and calmed down a little once his machine picked up. "SpEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAk!"
"Hello Mark? It's Marli. Ryan. Marli Ryan. From college. Listen, I was wondering if you still make films. I have a script being produced and I would love you to direct it. It could be a great opportunity. So...give me a call at 555-5303 and if you're interested we can meet and I will send you a script. Thanks."
A/N: I know this is really short, but It's my first fic so please be kind. The chapters will get longer from here on out. Also, the D key on my laptop is being a brat so any typos I didn't notice, I'm really sorry. Truly, I am.