Hi, guys!
This is a quick brief Heya for you. It's my Heya-shipper-distorted-vision of the after-Glaad Awards 2012. So I must say that it didn't really happen and stuff…
Hope you like it and I'm waiting for your reviews, your comments, your suggestions, your criticisms and all you wanna let me know!
Enjoy the reading!
the old phib
Chapter One: It's Hard
Naya let slip a little sigh and gave a distract look at her reflection on the glass of the sliding doors of the hotel. She could also see Cory near to her figure, a couple of feet behind her while he was taking a shot with a little fan. Then she looked again at herself. Her black trench, her heels, her thin legs, her face, her expression, her expression almost completely hidden by one of her huge pair of sunglasses, her hair … she didn't like her hair that night. It was … it was the hairstyle. That was the problem. It was … like … too flat on her head and … and … She didn't exactly understand the problem, but her hair wasn't right that night. Totally. Totally not right. She tried to lift and arrange her hair in a ponytail. Fuck. Fuck. It was so damn better like this. Why had they combed her hair like that? Why? Why not a ponytail or … or … Fuck. It was late. Anyway she could see all the stuff. Late. And the worse thing was that that wasn't the real problem. Cory was desperately trying to say goodbye to the little fan and to her mother. Naya wanted only to go quickly inside and try to sleep to say goodbye to that awful night. She looked at her face. She was so tired and in that moment for the first moment in her life to wear a pair of sunglasses in the middle of the night seemed to her just fucking ridiculous. She took them off and finally she saw Cory's figure coming near her.
"Sorry. Let's go." he said to her displaying one of his best here's-to-us-smiles.
She didn't know what to say. She didn't want to say anything. She didn't want to seem rude or unpleasant or anything but … she couldn't. She simply couldn't. And so trying to smile a tiny bit she started to hope just that he could understand.
One embarrassing second later they began to walk inside the hotel. They stayed in silence until they reached the reception. The receptionist gave them their keys smiling like a model of a toothpaste's brand and then they sank again in the silence. She felt like trapped inside a bubble of worries and unpleasant thoughts. Her feet automatically followed Cory, but her mind was so far away from all the things that'd been happening to her from that question - from that fucking question - that if a meteorite collided with the earth, if a fire started in the hotel, if someone slapped her, she wouldn't be able to notice it.
It was only when they went inside the lift that Naya realized how Cory felt awkward seeing her so silent and sad. So she forced her mouth into a smile. He seemed to appreciate it.
"Hard, isn't it?" he commented with his friendly expression in sync with the sharp noise of the closure of the doors. Their feet started to lift.
"Yeah." she answered, but he was ready to continue:
"I'm just glad that I wasn't in your shoes. Just glad."
She knew he was just trying to make her feel better, but how could he … ? How-how … ? What the hell …? Breath. Breath, Naya, breath. It wasn't his fault. Or anyone else's fault. It wasn't.
"I hate it."
"What?"
"To disappoint people." she ended with her hoarse voice. The doors slid open. A man went inside the lift. He smiled a bit. So did Cory. Naya just thought his one was enough.
"You can't make everyone happy." Cory resumed turning to her that was distractedly staring at the mirrored doors.
"I know, but …" she began and she really really knew that, but … "… they were so … so disappointed in me. And I'm so sorry about that. I just want … I want they to love me, because I love them and I love this work and … and …" she continued to stammer trying not to shout even if she was so caught up in all the stuff and it was hard, very hard.
"They do love you." he interrupted her while the unknown man seemed to begin to become quite interested in their speech. He couldn't understand. Damnit, Cory.
"Haven't you seen them? Their looks, Cory, their looks …" she tried to explain with a tiny movement of her right hand. She could still see them in front of her. Them and their looks. So disappointed. Gosh.
Thanks to God the doors opened again. That was their turn. Cory said goodbye to the man, Naya made the best that she could and mumbled something the sound of which vaguely resembled a greeting. He didn't clearly know what he was supposed to say. He really wanted to reassure her, but he probably wasn't just the right person.
"Just … sleep on it, you know?" he tried.
"Yeah. Yeah. I can't do anything else now, right?" she answered trying to be gentle and to hide the selfish relief born from the sudden consciousness that her room was on the right and his room was on the left. That thought made her feel guilty. She hadn't nothing against him, he was gentle and kind and everything, but she just wanted to stay alone.
"Right. Promise me that you won't worry about that." he whispered hugging her with his tender clumsiness.
"I'm trying." she promised. She'd always loved hugs. And even if they hadn't ever really been friends, he was objectively a good hugger.
"Good. Good night." he said with another friendly smile.
"Good night." Naya answered and for the last time she forced herself into a smile. God. God. God. C'mon. The bed was finally really near. Her heels were literally killing her, but she clearly knew that the recalls of that night were really really killing her. Not all the night. Just that question. And her answer. And their looks. And their disappointment. Damn. She was just trying to do her best. Why couldn't it be enough? Why?
One more step and she reached the door of her room. Good. Good.
