Well, I'm testing this. I don't know if I'll continue, but I probably will. Sorry this is so short, but I want to know what people think of it. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: I don't own RENT, Mark, or the scarf.

My Mark. God I love him. Of course, he'd never know that, but I do anyway. And though he doesn't know it, he loves me too. I'm his scarf. His beloved scarf. I've seen little Mark grow up. My poor Mark, so misunderstood. So secretive. But I know about him. He confides in me. He's done so since we first met. So here it is, the life of my Mark.

I hung unmoving in the store. God I hated that store. Face after face appeared, but no one ever wanted to take me home. I felt like the most unlovable scarf in the world. Then one day, it all changed.

It was a typical morning, but something seemed different. The aisles of the store were decked in green and red and flashy lights. I had no idea what they meant, but I liked it all the same.

Suddenly, a skinny brunette came walking down the aisle, glancing to and fro. "Wait up Cindy!" a plump little woman called, hurrying after 'Cindy' with a cart. Suddenly, the brunette spied me and picked me up, rubbing her fingers along my soft, blue and gray surface.

"Do you think Mark would like this?" the girl asked the other woman.

"I do believe so," she answered, "Mark needs something to carry around other than that dreadful blanket. At least it'll keep him warm. Oh Cindy, why must you wait to do all of you Chanukah shopping until the last minute?"

"Whatever," 'Cindy' mumbled, throwing me into the cart and walking off.

I beamed. I was finally going to be bought! As I waited in the cart, I thought about this 'Mark'. I hoped he was short, and little. I was a softie for little kids. And blue eyes. Yeah, blue eyes would really stand out nicely with my coloring.

My thoughts were interrupted as I was roughly shoved into a box. "Ouch!" I cried, but no one heard me.

A lid was placed over the box and I was submerged in darkness. Suddenly, I didn't want to be bought. I had no idea where I was going. At least at the store I'd be with my friends. Oh well, too late now.

I don't know how long I was in that box, but I'm not sure I want to know. I was about to give up all hope, when the lid of my 'prison' was removed. A little boy picked me up, five years old about with bright blue eyes that shone like stars through his glasses. He was perfect.

"Thank you Cindy!" he squealed, gently wrapping me around his neck.

"No problem Mark," 'Cindy' answered.

So this was Mark. My Mark, who's neck would now remain warm thanks to me. As soon as I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, I couldn't have been happier. This was Mark, and he was all mine.