Hello new readers,
After months and months of being a silent observer of some amazing, well-crafted stories, I have decided to make the jump and start my own. Hopefully it draws you all in and you want to stick around for awhile.
I welcome all constructive feedback, so feel free to read and review.
Oh, and you can call me Kay.
Standing under glaring neon lights, the petite brunette took a few minutes to collect herself. It wasn't an unfamiliar spot for her to be in lately, especially these past few months. She knew exactly what was waiting for her on the other side of that door but that still didn't make it any easier.
More time was wasted in front of these lights than the ones she dreamed of on Broadway.
Sensing her friend's anxiousness to go in, she pried open the heavy door and followed a familiar path to the bar.
A husky man in his late thirties was standing behind it, his attention quickly switching from the bar patrons to the incoming duo.
"Rachel, Kurt." Mike grunted in welcome, moving to fill a pitcher of beer with practiced hands.
"Thanks for calling us, Mike." She half-shouted, reaching an open spot at the bar. The techno mix blasting throughout the room was already making her ears hurt.
"No problem." He replied sincerely.
"I'm afraid to ask but…how bad is it tonight?"
"Bad enough to call you. I tried to keep an eye on her but we got really busy early on. And she has no problem getting other people to buy her drinks when I cut her off."
"Yes, how fortunate for her." She deadpanned.
Mike just shrugged.
"So where is she?" she asked, her eyes scanning the crowd for a sign of her friend. The middle of the bar held a giant dance floor filled with dancing couples. Some were stumbling awkwardly to the beat of the music while others grinded heavily on their partners.
Kurt barely held in a grimace when a nearby couple started sloppily making out.
"Not sure, but some red-headed girl was with her." Mike replied before walking over to a new group of customers.
"Perfect" Rachel muttered to herself.
"Let's just get this over with. I promised Adam I'd meet him for brunch tomorrow and nothing says unattractive like bags under your eyes." Kurt complained, staring at his reflection in an empty glass.
With a quick turn of her heel, Rachel stormed through the dance floor, forcing Kurt to chase after her.
"Rachel, I think I see her over there!" He exclaimed, pushing a grinding couple away from him in disgust.
Skirting to an immediate stop, she surveyed the scene before and shared a look with Kurt. She walked right up to the slumped form sitting at an empty table in the corner. The person, clearly female, was face down on her folded arms, empty bottles decorating the table around her. By the amount visible, Rachel knew she had been there for a while.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Rachel screamed, her voice several pitches too high for the surrounding customers.
Clad in dark navy pants, black boots and a light blue button up that looked partially undone, Santana barely opened her eyes to respond.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm having a drink, Berry."
"A drink?!" She sputtered, her hands waiving wildly at the empty bottles.
With a groan, Santana lifted up her head and glared.
"Drinks, sorry! I didn't know that was a crime. You would think I would know that, being a police officer and all." Santana gritted out.
"Drinks in your uniform?! Are you crazy, Santana?" You could get in so much trouble for this. You could be demoted…or..or fired! Where is the rest of it?" She hissed angrily, her eyes scanning the nearby tables in case someone overheard.
"I left my jacket in my locker at the station. Can't call it in if I don't have a badge number, Midget. Suzie has my hat though…or Sarah? I don't remember." She slurred, grabbing an almost empty bottle and finishing it off quickly.
"She's hot though." She said as an afterthought.
As if on cue, a girl wearing low-cut jean shorts, a halter top and a NYPD police hat stumbled over to the scene. She quickly plopped herself down on the Latina's lap as if nothing was happening.
"Hey baby, can we get out of here?" she whined annoyingly, her hands wandering up the wrinkled polo, a now clear explanation as to the half-undone shirt.
"Um, excuse me, but clearly she is no shape to go off and do whatever nefarious activities you have planned for her. We're here to take her home immediately, so please return her property so we can leave." Rachel rattled off.
The girl just stared blankly.
"This is getting ridiculous. Excuse me honey, but you need to get out of here before my little friend blows a gasket." Kurt said calmly, his hand extended to help the girl off Santana's lap.
Eying the offered hand warily, the girl turned towards Santana and whispered loudly,
"What's with the bitch and the queen?"
Retracting his hand quickly, Kurt raised his eyebrows in offense.
"Oh no, you didn't-"
"Kurt!"
"They're my live-in buzz kills. Or they used to be" Santana muttered, her hands stopping the girl from continuing up her shirt. "Listen Sandy-"
"It's Jenny." The girl interrupted quickly. Clearly this wasn't the first time her name was confused.
"Jenny, sorry. Let me talk to tweedle-dee and tweedle-dumb real quick and then I'll meet you outside, kay?" Santana suggested, using the table to lift herself up into a standing position.
The girl scoffed loudly and headed in the direction of the bathroom.
Santana began to lead them away in a quick-paced stroll through the bar but her left leg crumbled beneath her, causing her to tip over. Rachel and Kurt rushed over, each taking an arm and helping her to the exit.
As soon as they stepped through the door, Santana pushed away from them violently.
"I am sick and tired of you two playing babysitter. I don't live with you anymore remember? I'm not your problem." Santana reminded them hotly, ignoring the dirty looks from passersby.
"We're still your friends Santana, even if you've been a terrible one lately."
"Give me a break, Berry, you kicked me out. Some friends you are."
"Oh, and I'm sure we did that for no other reason than the coldness in our hearts."
"Stop the dramatics, Rachel. We're not in high school anymore."
"Fine, you want honestly, I'll give it to you gladly" Rachel shouted, her arms crossing in front of her
"Rachel…" Kurt whispered behind her, attempting to rein her in. A drunken Santana was not someone he wanted to pry off of Rachel's soon to be deceased corpse.
Ignoring his warning Rachel turned towards Santana and took a step forward, unfazed when Santana met her halfway.
There were only inches apart now.
"You were out of control Santana. Still are. We were sick of the lying, the hidden bottles, the late nights worrying to death about you. You were supposed to leave and get yourself together."
"I am together. I go to work, I have my own place, and I'm getting by on my own. No thanks to you two." Santana replied harshly, her face centimeters from Rachel's.
"Oh, is that what you're doing? You look like you have it all worked out, officer Cuervo."
"What did you call me?" Santana responded slowly, her fists curling at her side. A quick glance at Kurt's panicked expression helped her loosen them. But only barely.
"I don't have to listen to this from you anymore. Leave me the hell alone!" Santana threatened before turning around and walking away.
Rachel blinked quickly, her gaze switching from cold anger to desperation.
"What about the nightmares, Santana." Rachel said loud enough for Santana to hear.
Kurt gasped behind her but Rachel pressed on.
"I bet you still haven't seen anyone about them. It's what's causing all this and you know it. You're not over what happened to Hayley and you're destroying yourself because of it. She wouldn't you to keep doing this to yourself Santana. Hayley looked up to you, She—"
"Stop!" Santana screamed, whipping around to confront them again. "Stop saying her name. You don't know what happened that night. What I went through…what she went through…" Santana trailed off brokenly, tears forming around her eyes.
"I know that ever since we got the call that you were shot on duty and had to visit you in the hospital, you've been like this. Taking as many dangerous shifts as you can…basically begging for them so you don't have to deal with your feelings. Drowning yourself at these bars and going out with people that aren't good for you. You're going to get yourself killed Santana! It could be at the end of a gun barrel or a bottle for all you care and we don't want to see that happen! We care about you too much." Rachel gasped out, her emotions take hold of her.
Santana gaped openly at Rachel's forwardness, unable to respond for a few minutes.
"Well stop. Stop fucking caring about me then." Santana whispered finally.
Rachel's face instantly softened at the sound of the other girl's voice trembling.
"Do you know what happens to people who care about me?" Santana continued. "They leave or they get hurt. My parents, my abuela, Hayley..." Santana choked out the last name, wiping her eyes frantically on her sleeve.
"Brittany…" Kurt finished before stepping back from the look Santana gave him.
"Brittany did both." She replied bitterly. "So why don't you take a lesson from them and leave too. Because I'm not worth it, I'm really not."
Suddenly the door to the bar slammed open, revealing the red-headed girl from earlier. Clearly still drunk, she glanced at Kurt and Rachel's frozen faces before her unfocused eyes landed on Santana.
"So…are you ready to go now?" She asked rudely, her body swaying in the wind.
"Yeah…yeah, we're done here." Santana said quietly before she beckoned the girl over.
Kurt and Rachel watched them stumble over to catch a cab, the yellow lights leaving them in the alone on the cold sidewalk
It felt like hours before Rachel felt Kurt's hand on her shoulder, signaling it was time to head home.
They made the trek to their loft in complete silence. Each one adrift in their own thoughts on their lost friend and how to find her again. By the time they slide their front door open and began taking off their shoes, Rachel had had enough.
"We can't do this by ourselves anymore, Kurt." She said quietly, stripping off her jacket and placing it on the arm of the couch.
Running a hand through his now haggard locks, Kurt answered back.
"I know…it's too much. But I don't know what else we can do to help her? Especially when she doesn't want it."
"She doesn't want it from us…but maybe-"
"Rachel, we can't. We promised Santana we wouldn't talk about her to anyone. Plus it's been five years. We don't even know where she is."
"I do." Rachel admitted to a stunned Kurt. "I've been keeping in touch these past few months. She's been wanting to come up for months now and frankly, I've run out of excuses for why she shouldn't.
"I could think of few." Kurt muttered quickly before speaking up. "I don't know if that's a good idea Rachel. We might make things a whole lot worse. If that's even remotely possible."
"We have to try…she's broken, Kurt. And we can't fix her." Rachel admitted softly, her voice shaking with emotion.
Meeting her eyes, he could only nod.
"I'll call her tomorrow."