Ok, so don't shoot me because I'm doing stuff from RENT. I wanted to see what it would be like to see the story through someone else's eyes. I'll try and keep posting for as long as I can, and since it's almost Winter Break, I'll post maybe every other day. Here goes! Hope ya like it! Oh, and also I DON'T OWN ANYONE HERE FROM RENT! There are a few lines from the Broadway and the movie, but I don't "own" it, "I rent!"

It all started on December 24th. It was just like a normal Christmas Eve in Alphabet City, as lights were dangling from rooftops and wreaths on light posts. As for me, I was walking in the dark, with nothing but a beanie, a coat, and a few coins in my pocket for a call. It was late, around 9 p.m., and cold, about 36 degrees, with a medium coat on, and I needed to get inside somewhere. I remembered my friends Mark, the filmmaker, and Roger, ex-druggie and singer/songwriter. They were just about a block away, so I hurried to a payphone next to the apartment. They lived in some run down, old piece of shit that didn't have any electricity, no heat, nothing except for a bastard of a landlord. The place used to be mine, but I moved out ever since I went to MIT.

Anyway, I called their apartment so I could get the key. I was in the Christmas mood, so when the answering machine sprang up, I sang a few notes from "The Christmas Song".

"Speak…. (Beeeeeeeep)"

"Chestnuts roasting…" I sang out. "I'm downstairs."

"COLLINS! Hey!" I heard someone say in a raspy voice. Is that Roger? He never picks up the phone.

"Roger? Is that you?" I ask.

"No, he's still moping around, tuning the Fender guitar he hasn't played in, what, 4 years? It's me!"

"Mark. Throw down the key!"

"Sure. We're gonna have a party tonight!" He puts the phone down, opens the window, and throws me the key. Then he puts the phone down to talk to Roger.

I see a few shadowy figures come near me. I try to get Mark back on the phone.

"Mark? MARK!" I scream.

"Yeah, Collins?" He replies.

"You might wanna start without me…" I say, my voice shaking, and hang up.

"Hey man, you got a light?" One of them asked. I was afraid they were gonna rob me.

"Yeah, sure. Here." I pull out my lighter, but three others come up behind me. Fortunately, I saw them, elbowed one and ran for my life. I heard screams of "Get that son a bitch!" and "Get him!" while I was running.

I tripped over my laces and they beat me with a baseball bat. They punched me, beat me up, and then they took my coat, but they tore it off so fast that it ripped, leaving me just a small portion of it. Blood was dripping from my nose, mouth, and my knuckles from the self-defense. Everything looked brown, and I started to feel dizzy, so I leaned up against a brick wall in an alleyway. Then…I fainted.