A/N: I must tell you, before you read this, that some traits of some of the characters in this story are based on people I know. However, certain qualities of the characters, such as drug and alcohol problems, are fictional.
I do not own RENT. Furthermore, I do not own the "If Camille smiles and nothing's funny, run" quote, it's based on something a teacher of mine once said. Likewise the "how do you go about getting a life anyway?" part, that's from something a friend of mine wrote in a letter.
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Emily grinned as she surveyed her friends by the light of the campfire. Camille and Bri, each with and ear bob, singing along to the Linkin Park tune currently playing on Camille's MP3 player. Matt and Will, the school's only gay couple, sitting on the ground and talking to each other in low voices. And Katie, curled up in a lawn chair, focused on the notebook in her hand. All of Emily's closest friends had come to celebrate her fifteenth birthday. A wave of contentment washed over her, and she found herself grinning like a fool.
"Hey, Em, gimme the graham crackers," said Matt. Emily snapped out of her reverie and handed him the package. He had already gathered the bag of marshmallows and a chocolate bar from the huge pile.
"I'm making smores, who wants another one?" he said.
"Sounds great. Thanks, Matt," replied Katie, looking up from her notebook.
"Could you make me two?" asked Camille.
"Sure," Matt said, pulling marshmallows out of the bag.
Matt busied himself with roasting marshmallows. He handed a smore first to Will, then to Katie, and then two to Camille.
"Em, this is the best party you've ever had," declared Camille after taking one bite of her first smore.
"Yeah, we actually get to have a fire this year," added Bri.
"Pyro," said Will.
"Hell yes I am, wanna make something of it?" replied Bri with a grin.
"Apparently, my mom thinks that now we're mature enough not to burn down the neighborhood," Emily said, gesturing to the darkened house that stood not fifty feet away. Camping out in her backyard was a birthday tradition.
"She's wrong. We won't start any fires, but that doesn't make us mature," said Matt scornfully. "Who wants some booze?"
"Sure," said Bri. Camille nodded. Matt took two bottles out of his backpack, along with a bottle opener, and handed them to the girls.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," said Katie quietly.
"Don't be a spoilsport, Katie!" said Matt loudly, but Camille and Bri looked a little bit guilty. An awkward silence fell over the group, broken only by the faint sound of Camille's MP3 player.
Camille looked around morosely at the group. Why did this always happen? Everything was great until some tiny spark of disagreement made them all miserable. Then a thought struck her. She started skipping songs feverishly, much to Bri's unspoken annoyance, until she found what she was looking for. Then she paused the song and looked up at her friends.
"I am going to sing La Vie Boheme!" she declared dramatically. "Who will join me?"
Without further ado, she pressed play and said in a high voice "Who died?"
"Our Akita," replied Bri gravely.
"Evita!" yelled Will and Matt.
Bri continued in the same serious voice. "You make fun, yet I'm the one attempting to do some good. Or do you really want a neighborhood where people piss on your stoop every night? Bohemia, Bohemia's a fallacy in your head. This is Calcutta; Bohemia is dead."
Camille began, "Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes…"
She looked around and realized that Katie had joined in. Emily, Matt, Will, and Bri were all singing along.
"…Here she lies,
No one knew her worth, the late great daughter of Mother Earth
On these nights when we celebrate the birth
In that little town of Bethlehem,
We raise our glass, you bet your-
"PICKLE!" screamed Bri and Camille. It was how they censored the songs when singing them after drama club rehearsals or at church.
"To…la vie boheme!
La vie boheme!
La vie boheme!"
There was a momentary pause, then Bri sang,
"To days of inspiration,
Playin' hooky, makin' somethin' out of nothin',
The need to express, to communicate,
To going against the grain, going insane, going mad.
To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension
To starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension,
Not to mention, of course, hating dear old Mom and Dad!
To riding your bike midday past the three-piece suits,
To fruits, to no absolutes, to Absolut,
To choice, to the Village Voice, to any passing fad!
To being an us for once, instead of a them!
La vie boheme!
By now they were practically screaming, none of them caring that they were in the middle of a nice neighborhood at one in the morning.
"Hey mister…" said Camille, then she and Emily said in unison, "She's my sister."
"So that's five, um…" said Camille.
"…miso soup four seaweed salad three soy burger dinner two tofu dog platter and one pasta with meatless balls," chanted Katie without missing a beat. Camille stared at her. She just grinned.
"Where were we?" asked Emily.
"…13 orders of fries, is that it here?" sang Bri. There was an uncomfortable silence. Everyone knew that the next two lines dealt with alcohol. Camille waited, then picked up with,
"To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese,
To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo,
To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou!
Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion,
Creation, vacation-"
"MUCHO MASTURBATION!" they all screamed. A light came on in the house next door, but they didn't care.
"Compassion, to fashion, to passion- when it's new!
To Sontag, to Sondheim, to anything taboo!
Ginsburg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage,"
"Lenny Bruce!" whooped Matt.
"Langston Hughes!" finished Will.
"To the stage!" shrieked Emily.
"To Uta!"
"To Budddha!"
"Pablo Neruda, too…"
"Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow
To blow off Auntie Em!
La vie boheme!"
"Sisters?" said Bri.
"We're close," everyone chorused.
"Da dadada da-dum, da dadada dum…" hummed Emily.
"Brothers!" yelled Will and Matt.
"Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens
Carginogens, hallucinogens, men,
Peewee Herman!
German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein,
Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurasawa,
Carmina Burana!
To apathy, to empathy, to entropy, Ecstasy,
Vaclav Havel! The Sex Pistols 8BC!
To no shame, never playin' the fame game,
To marijuana!
To sodomy, it's between God and me,
To S&M!
La vie boheme!"
Suddenly Camille paused the song and yelled,
"Stop singing for a sec, I just had a brilliant idea!"
"Brilliant enough to interrupt the most brilliant of songs?" asked Will dryly.
"Yes," said Camille with a huge grin on her face.
"If Camille smiles and nothing's funny, run," said Emily. "Spit it out, what's this crazy idea of yours?"
"We need to put on RENT. You know, all of us, as the cast, on a stage in front of our friends and family, etc.?"
"Are you seriously suggesting we sing that in the presence of our parents?" said Will. "You need a reality check."
"We probably won't be able to keep them away," said Camille reasonably. "But seriously, though, doesn't it sound fun?"
"Where would we put it on? Mrs. Tarlin is a great teacher, but she'd never let us do RENT in drama club, and besides, it's summer," pointed out Emily.
"We can do it at church," said Camille breezily.
"What, and yell PICKLE every other word?" said Bri. "I think that beer's going to your head."
"We could say it was a lesson in tolerance. The congregation in general didn't mind when Matt came out, after all," said Camille. Matt nodded in agreement.
"Okay, assuming by some miracle we talk Reverend Flaherty into letting us use the stage in the basement- no way would we be able to do it in the sanctuary- who will play who?" said Emily.
"Are you admitting that this crazy plan has a snowball's chance in hell of happening?" asked Will incredulously.
"Hey, it's fun to think about, anyway," said Emily. "Will, you wanna be Collins?"
"If you pull this off, I'll play anybody you want me to play." said Will.
"And Matt, you'll be Angel, right?" said Bri.
"Sure thing. All I'll have to change is the color of my nail polish," giggled Matt, holding up his nails for inspection. They were metallic purple.
"What about you, Camille, Oh-genius-one-who-came-up-with-this? Who are you going to play?" asked Emily.
"Joanne, of course. The genius, as you said," Camille told her with a falsely snobby look on her face. They both laughed.
"You should be Maureen, Emily darling, you look just like her," said Bri.
"Okay," agreed Emily, "that leaves Mimi, Mark, and Roger."
"I'll be Mimi, as long as we censor the moves for Out Tonight. No way am I doing that dance if our dads, and Camille's brother, will be in the audience." said Bri.
Bri as Mimi. It was an interesting parallel in Emily's opinion, although she didn't say so out loud. Bri wasn't the only member of their group with alcohol problems, but she had also been known to dabble in…other things. Marijuana, a little cocaine. The whole group knew, although it was rarely mentioned for fear of the resulting awkwardness and anger.
"So, Mark and Roger…" Camille trailed off, looking at Katie. The girl's short blonde hair was a mess, and she was wearing contacts instead of glasses, but still…
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Camille said quietly to Bri.
"If I know you and your evil little brain, then yes," replied Bri.
Camille leaned over and tapped Katie on the shoulder.
"What?" said Katie, looking up abruptly from her notebook.
"You get to be Mark."
"What? Oh, hell no, guys, come on-" protested Katie.
"Aw, Katie, it'll be fun!" said Bri. "It could be worse, you could be playing a stripper like I just volunteered to."
"But I- but- Mark kisses Maureen, though, at the beginning of La Vie Boheme!"
"I'd forgotten that. We can cut that part out, no problem. How many times have you watched RENT, anyway, that you would remember that?" Camille added, eyebrow raised.
"A lot," said Katie mildly.
"Get a life," Camille said.
"How does one go about getting a life, anyway?" asked Emily.
"I don't know, but I bet they sell them at the mall," joked Katie.
"No. Fuck the mall," said Camille firmly. "Anyway, you've kissed me before, what's wrong with Emily?"
"I- but- that was a truth or dare game! Besides, it's not just me! Will is the only person here who HASN'T kissed you!"
"I wasn't bragging, I was just-"
"You kissed Camille?" interrupted Will in his quiet, intense voice. He was staring at Matt.
"In my own defense, honey, that was before we were going out,' said Matt.
"Ah," said Will, but Emily could tell he was still hurt. Matt didn't notice.
"Katie, if we actually put on RENT, and you play Mark, I'll buy you a hardcover book of your choice," Matt told her.
"Okay, but I'm going to hold you to that," Katie said reluctantly.
"Awesome!" said Matt. "I'll let you borrow my Mark scarf, and the coat- I let everybody sign it at the end of the year, but it's still very Markish…" he babbled on and on, and Katie couldn't help grinning.
"What about Roger?" asked Emily.
"Oh yeah, I'd almost forgotten about him…" muttered Camille. Bri, however, spoke up enthusiastically.
"I'll try and recruit Jared McClellan to play Roger! He's a RENT-head, and he can sing really well, I've seen his band perform before."
"You just want an excuse to kiss him," said Camille.
"So? He'd be a good Roger anyway."
"I guess it's settled, then," said Camille. "We're performing RENT."
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Author's Note: Well, I haven't updated this story in forever...but I think I might just finish it this summer. Anyhoo, here's this chapter edited and slightly redone- the next two should be up in their edited forms soon. The edits are necessary due to slight plot and character tweaks. And hopefully I'll have chapter 4 up within the next couple of weeks!