This idea has been swirling in my head for a little while, so I think I'm going to let my muse take over & see where it goes. Thank you so much to all of my faithful readers, especially those that read my stories no matter what the pairing is. I love you all for being so open-minded. Enjoy!
There's a possibility
There's a possibility
All that I had was all I'm gonn' get
Finn ran his hand through his hair, letting out a heavy breath as he did. He leaned against the counter for support, fearing his legs would give out on him at any minute. His stomach churned almost as much as his heart ached. And not just any ache; it physically ached as if someone was squeezing it in the palm of their hand.
He looked around the tiny apartment. The apartment he and Rachel had been sharing for the last six months. The apartment that Rachel was so meticulous about finding after Finn moved to New York. She had hated to leave the warehouse space she shared with Kurt and Santana, but there clearly wasn't enough space for all four of them. They had made sure to find an affordable place close to their friends, which in New York wasn't easy.
There were dirty dishes in sink. A butter knife and small plate sat at the top of the small pile. The last thing Rachel had eaten the morning before. Lately he couldn't remember much, but he vividly remembered her spreading the strawberry jam on her wheat toast, carefully cutting it into fours before pouring her morning cup of coffee into her favorite mug just a day earlier.
His eyes darted to the counter surrounding the sink and then back to the sink. Her favorite mug was gone. He stumbled over to the sink, opening up a cabinet to the left. He rooted through the plastic cups and glasses, some even spilling out onto the counter rather loudly. He disregarded the mess he just made instead opening the cabinet on the other side of the sink. He frantically searched for the mug, but came up empty handed. It was really gone.
Twisting around, he surveyed the apartment or better yet what was left of it. Clothes were strewn over the couch, all of them his. Empty beer bottles littered the floor next to his favorite recliner, the one Rachel had wrinkled her nose up at and tried to convince him wouldn't coordinate with their existing furniture when they found it in a second-hand store several months earlier. He had somehow talked her into letting him get it and there hadn't been a Sunday he wasn't sorry. Lounging in that chair, drinking a beer and watching football had been one of his favorite pastimes. Had been.
Everything seemed to be in the past tense now. He scratched his head as he walked over to the couch, tossing a pair of jeans and a couple of shirts out of the way. He sank into the soft cushions, leaning his head back, staring up at the ceiling. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. He didn't feel like talking to anyone right now.
A white piece of paper caught his attention on the coffee table, peeking out beneath a red WMHS sweatshirt. Leaning forward, he carefully tugged on the paper, the swirly silver writing coming into view as he pulled on it harder. He held it out in front of him, his eyes carefully reading the words. In all honesty, he didn't even need to pretend to read the words. He knew them by heart. Rachel had forced him to help her and Kurt stuff envelopes one gloomy Thursday evening.
As we shall become one
to share all the days of our lives…
Mr. and Mr. Leroy and Hiram Berry
request the honor of your presence
at the marriage of their daughter,
Rachel Barbra Berry
to
Finn Christopher Hudson
on the sixth of April
two thousand thirteen
at four o'clock in the afternoon
Finn felt his cellphone vibrate again. Disgusted, he let the paper fall slowly to the floor as he stretched out his legs, digging in his left pocket for his phone. Without bothering to see who was calling, he tapped the screen to accept the call.
"What?" He growled.
"Is that anyway to talk to your brother?" He sighed when he heard Kurt's voice.
"What do you want Kurt?" He was in no mood to play these games.
"I've tried calling you a dozen times today." Finn could hear Kurt's voice rising. "Your mother is so worried about you."
"I wish people would stop worrying about me already." He hoped his tone was coming across as pissed more so than irritated.
"It's kind of hard not to." Kurt's tone became more serious. "No matter what has happened, you're still family."
"Hmmm." Finn said a bit too sarcastically. He could hear a bit of shuffling on Kurt's end.
"Geez Finn, do you think you could have an ounce of compassion for the people in your life?" Kurt was practically screaming into the phone. With a shaky hand, Finn moved the phone away from his ear and the piercing sounds of his brother's voice. He switched the phone into his other hand, his right hand becoming too unstable to hold it properly. He involuntarily began shaking his right knee as well. He knew what was coming next and he needed to get off the phone with Kurt before it did.
"I don't need to hear this right now, Kurt." Finn slid his right hand under his trembling right leg, hoping to keep his unsteady limbs at bay for just a few more minutes.
"You don't need to hear this right now? You don't need to hear this?" Kurt laughed mockingly.
"I told you I don't need this shit." Finn spat, leaning forward on the couch as his other leg began to tremble. The air around him was getting thin, a small bead of sweat forming at his brow.
"Well I know what you do need." His brother's tone was more forceful. "You need to get your act together before…"
Finn cut him off.
"Before what?" Finn asked. "Before I lose everything?"
"Yes, Finn." Kurt deadpanned, his voice becoming softer. "Before you lose everything."
"I already have." Finn hung up the phone before his brother could say another word. Leaping from the couch, Finn practically ran to the bedroom. He yanked open the drawer next to the side of the bed he usually slept on. He rifled through the contents, throwing most of them on the floor until he found what he was looking for.
The bottle felt light, he knew he was almost out of the one thing that could make all of this better. He raced into the bathroom, turning on the faucet quickly. Snapping off the lid, he tossed two small pills into his mouth and with a scoop of water in his palm, he washed them both down, then slid to the floor in defeat.
Well? What do you think? I appreciate and welcome all reviews…it's what keeps me going. I'll credit the song at the end of the story, since I'll be using it in every chapter.