Alright, alright. Before you get on my case about this story, lemme explain:

This is for a writing contest in the "Musicals" forum. A bunch of people are writing stories that are from musicals (prequels, sequels, crackfics, loads of things) and submitting them for a contest. The one that wins gets a nifty design thingy in their profile. Plus, this is a really short piece, and not a long one. My Story will be updated shortly, give me a couple days and I'll have it up.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rent. Wish I did, but I don't. Anything you don't recognize…mine. Okies?

"Mom, you didn't…" Mark turned his head around to his mother, who was waving a brochure in front of his face. A young couple posed in a position that looked to be out of a catalogue for older men. The woman wore a blue spaghetti strapped dress that hung down by her knees. The young man had a tuxedo and a rose hanging from his mouth. Mark almost threw up seeing the piece of paper.

"Oh, come on Mark! It'll be fun!" Mrs. Cohen hung up her coat, placing the brochure on the kitchen table. "You'll get to learn how to waltz, samba, tango…"

"How does that sound fun, Mom?"

His mother shrugged. "I don't know, but it'll help you. I know it will. Some day, maybe you'll meet a girl that you want to dance with and she'll be surprised that you know how to dance." She turned around and kissed his head.

Maybe, or maybe I'll get called and have to dance with a lesbian. Mark chuckled at the thought. "I don't know, Mom. It just sounds so, well…not me."

"Mark, I've already paid for a session that starts next week. Neither your father nor I will be going, nor will Cindy. She has classes during that time, and I don't think I'm pregnant."

Mark grimaced at the thought. "Mom, please. If you stop talking about it, I'll go."

"Go where?" Cindy, Mark's older sister, walked in the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"Mom signed me up for dance lessons. She says that it'll help me out with girls."

Cindy laughed until tears streamed down her face. "Aww! Wittle Marky's gonna go learn to dance?"

"Shut up, Cindy!" Mark yelled across the table.

"Marcus Josiah Cohen!" Mrs. Cohen wheeled around, nearly knocking a plate of cookies out of her hands. "You know we don't tolerate that kind of language in the house. Apologize to your sister at once!"

Mark looked at his sister who was stifling a laugh. He glared, but seeing as his mother was looking at him, he couldn't roll his eyes. "Cindy, I'm sorry I told you to shut up."

Cindy got up and ruffled the young film maker's hair. "Ah, it's alright little brother. We fight. It's fine."

"Well, at least that's settled. And the best part Mark," Mrs. Cohen set the plate down, flipped the paper over and pointed to a name, "Rabbi Himmelfarb is the instructor, which means Nannette will be there!"

Mark groaned and Cindy subdued her laughter once again, causing more nasty looks from her younger brother.


"And what's worse, Nannette fucking Himmelfarb is going to be there!" Mark was walking to school with Roger Davis, his best friend since they had started middle school. Roger had short, dirty blonde hair which he spiked everyday, and a small stature like Mark's. His eyes changed with the days; sometimes they were green, sometimes hazel, and sometimes blue.

"Man, Mark…you really got the short end of the stick." Roger clapped his friend on the shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"No, really? I didn't notice at all…but my mom's just going to drop me off and then leave for 4 hours? It's not exactly fair. I don't even see why Nannette likes me. I'm a geeky Jewish boy that can't even do basic geometry." Mark kicked a pebble in front of him. Roger looked on down the sidewalk; his eyes grew wide with fear.

"Speaking of the slut, here she comes now." Roger pointed towards the school where a skinny, fair-skinned, red-haired girl was. She wore a blue tank top covered by a black sweater and jean shorts that showed almost everything. The girl saw the pair of boys and began waving, running towards them.

"Oh, no. Roger, hide me. Please, I can't that stupid…Hi, Nannette!" Mark waved at the girl who gave him a hug. She nodded to Roger, who glared back.

"Marky! You mom signed you up for dance lessons, right?" Nannette asked bubbly.

Mark nodded. "Yeah, she did. I saw your dad was the instructor. That's got to be pretty cool having your dad be able to teach you how to dance."

"Yeah, but it's going to be even more fun when we're partners! I can already imagine it: you and me on a big dance floor. I'm wearing a skinny, red dress and you in a jet black tuxedo." She smoothed his hair back out of his face, sighing. "Your hair slicked back with gel, mine is down and curly. Oh, wouldn't it be fantastic?"

Mark looked to Roger for help. He grabbed the cue quickly and pulled Mark away from Nannette. "Maybe, but he'll just have to fantasize about it in class. That was the bell! Bye, Nannette!" They both took off running for the school, which was still a few hundred feet away.

"That gave her hope, you dumbass!" Mark punched Roger in the arm while they were heading through the door.

"Hope maybe, but she'll get a detention for being late to class." Roger smiled smugly while he and Mark walked to their first class.

Yeah, so that's the first chapter! I would REALLY appreciate reviews, because they make everything better. Reviews help lots with stuck up writers who don't work on their other stories. I'm hopefully going to do 3 or 4 chapters, so...yeah...