AN: Another one-shot based off of the events circling the Glee set as of recently. I'm sorry I haven't posted more of these, but I'm hoping to get back into them. Enjoy!
"Hey." It was a simple word, one she'd heard ten thousand times over the course of her life, but it was the hesitancy behind it that caught her attention, causing her to flip around quickly, sporting what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Hey," she nodded, her expression not faltering as she scanned her co-star's frame. "You look good." It was easy, far too easy to avoid one another on set once Naya's character had made the move to New York, leaving their interactions rare. The brunette had been spending far more time with a different blonde, save for Lea, who monopolized much of Naya's attention throughout the work day; as per habit, she was tirelessly tweeting about their filming schedules for their fans while Heather, on the other hand, spent much of her own free time reconnecting with the dancers if she weren't alone in her trailer.
"Thanks," was the lone word uttered, the lightest of flushes calculating its way across high cheekbones, "so do you." Heather fidgeted with her fingers, worrying them as she silently skimmed her brain for a continuation to their conversation, having exhausted all attempts at small talk, excluding the weather, within fifteen seconds. The sun had broken through the clouds that morning, leaving the early afternoon warm, though not yet stifling, and the rays that filtered between them, mimicking the estrangement they both felt, lightened Naya's eyes several shades.
"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" Those same eyes flickered across Heather's face, searching for signs the blonde was unwilling to give away. "I'm meeting Dianna for lunch before I go to the studio, so I have to grab my things. You can walk with me, if you want." The conversation was strangled, the tension clearly palpable despite the dancer's nod as she fell into step with her best friend. They crossed the lot silently, though Naya smiled congenially as they passed several of their co-stars, in contrast to the blonde's surly expression.
Their friendship was becoming a never ending game of tug-of-war, running eight steps forward before falling just as many back. Just as one of them seemed to be coping with what felt like the loss of a limb, the writer's room conveniently returned to their conjoined story line, leaving both women, as well as their fan base, with presumptuous hope and even more heartache. Naya had done well to occupy herself, working out daily as she took a hiatus from her record, unable to focus her attention and unwilling to delve into her emotions just yet. Despite the strangeness that came with not reporting to set each day, she appreciated the break she was given, though it left her with far too much time for her thoughts. Any progress that had been made would splinter and crack as soon as she resumed her long work days however; she'd spent the majority of one afternoon apologizing to Chord for her coldness upon the culmination of their duet and locked herself in her trailer until she was sure re-shoots were unnecessary.
"So how's your record going?" Heather's voice broke through her mental processes, though it took the brunette several moments to comprehend the question and respond. As always, the other woman waited patiently, watching her ex-girlfriend with curiosity as they continued toward their destination.
"I just started working on it again, so it's a little slow right now. We have to rebuild the momentum we had." The actress sighed, thinking of the immense work load she had ahead of her, because despite her passion for her record, the task seemed more daunting than ever. "I almost feel like I need a fresh start on it, so I tossed my old notebook." The blonde nodded, twisting her mouth to the side and successfully imagining several thousands of reasons Naya would need to start over, more than three quarters of them in direct relation with the dancer herself. She'd been privy to some of the lyrics her girlfriend-at-the-time had penned, and now, with their relationship fractured at best, nearing demolition at worst, she felt sure that what had originally been happy-go-lucky love songs might transform into something entirely different.
"You're really talented," Heather offered, her voice low as the trailer door swung open before them, "so I'm sure it'll turn out fine Nay." The nickname slipped easily over her lips, and the single syllable of word vomit quickly pulled red into her cheeks as she ducked her head.
Ever perceptive, the brunette grinned, hoping to set her friend at ease just as quickly. "Thanks Hemo. I appreciate your confidence in me." She held the door open, ushering Heather in as if the shortening of one another's names had not fallen away with the numerous other habits they'd acquired in the past four years that now lay dead and barren amongst the wreckage. "It's just taking longer than I expected. I'm grateful for the opportunity, far more grateful than I know how to even say, but being stagnant is frustrating." An uncomfortable silence settled over both women as they took into the innocent innuendo the phrasing of Naya's words held, reflecting the space between them, despite their best efforts.
"I can understand that," Heather sympathized, awkwardly tugging at the bottom of her Cheerios uniform and refusing to meet her friend's gaze. Her eyes automatically focused several inches downward, the only tangible point on the brunette's face that seemed even slightly safe, even with the implications it held. She flashed back a few weeks, remembering the torturous scene they spent the better part of an evening filming, despite the easiness of the dialogue. It was one of the few interactions their characters had experienced thus far in the season that hadn't been emotionally draining on paper, but the longevity of the repeats they'd shot had ripped painfully at Heather's frayed nerves. There were only so many times she could listen to Naya say, even in front of the cameras and crew, as an entirely different persona, "and you're my best friend," without the words digging beneath her skin and settling into her muscles.
Paris had become frustrated with them after an hour of filming, as had Ryan who'd stood in the background, because the scripted stage directions, telling them their physical exchange was meant to be "short but sweet," had been drawn out unintentionally with each take, until their very last. Just as in the break up episode, Heather's lips followed her ex-girlfriend's in an attempt to prolong the contact, and they seemed content to do the same at every opportunity. Finally, the blonde was told to stand stock still, allowing Naya to come to her, and it was only that and an extreme amount of willpower that left them with a finished scene and a decently pleased production crew.
"Hello?" she paused before chuckling, nodding though the person on the other end of the line could not see her. "Yeah, I'm about to leave the lot," she agreed, her smile widening. "Yes, I've got the scarf you left at my house. I'll see you in ten, okay?" She giggled again, though she tried to stifle it with her palm, disguising it as a cough. "I love you too, Lady. Bye." Slipping her phone into her back pocket, the brunette shifted her oversized bag onto one shoulder and stood at full-height, torn between trying to garner Heather's attention and ignoring the exchange she knew the blonde would have rather not been privy to. "There's nothing going on between Di and me," she offered, wishing she had something in her hands to keep them occupied, because she could feel the tips of her fingers itching to reach out for the freckled hands they knew so well.
"It wouldn't be my business if there was," the blonde bit back, immediately regretting the snipe in her tone. "I need to get back to set. We're filming one of the group numbers soon." It was still hard to remain in Naya's presence, and Heather flitted back and forth between wanting to fight through the awkward tension and rekindle the foundation of their friendship and wanting to avoid her ex-girlfriend at all costs, allowing nothing more than civil conversation when necessary.
"Okay," the other actress whispered out, and the blonde felt a sickening churn of her stomach building. "I should probably go anyway." They both stood stock still, unwilling or possibly unable to move from their defensive stances, though Naya's shoulders had slumped slightly, giving off an air of defeat. "Am I going to get a hug before I go?" The words were lighthearted, or at the very least, as upbeat as she could manage, a desperate bubble of hope pillowing her heart as she prayed she hadn't stepped over the line. Heather froze for several seconds but nodded, opening her arms. She felt the brunette's chest concave as Naya settled into her arms, her own, colored darker caramel from days out by her pool, encircling the dancer's waist. They remained there for several long moments, silent and painfully aware of the other's heart beating mercilessly against irreparable rib cages, before pulling apart.
Naya readjusted her purse over her shoulder, cupping her co-star's cheek with her free hand and gingerly rubbing her thumb against the barely observable freckles there. The rest of her fingers traveled of their own accord, altering the position of her palm slightly and skimming the baby hairs against Heather's neck. She lifted onto the balls of her feet, the back of her flats slipping off of her heels as she pressed her lips precariously close to the blonde's mouth, allowing them to linger momentarily and only pulling back when the beating of her heart signaled any further contact leading somewhere dangerous.
"I'll see you tomorrow Heather," she whispered, allowing her thumb to do the same just once more across the other woman's cheekbone. "I hope filming goes well." Lifting her aviators from their perch in her hair, she applied her weight to the trailer door which had a habit of sticking when it was humid, leaving her friend alone in her trailer, with not much more than confusion, a niggling of promise for the future, and embarrassingly red cheeks.
"Good morning sunshine!" Chocolate eyes narrowed minimally, having already been reduced to slits by the early hour and bright rays of light shining down on the Fox lot. Naya lifted her coffee cup in an attempt at a returned greeting, releasing a nearly animalistic growl as Kevin chuckled at her. "Will you ever get used to these call times?" She shook her head, tugging her hoodie more closely to her body and struggling up the steps to her trailer door. He pried it open for her, unable to hide his grin as she slumped into her couch cushions. "You're filming with Lea and Chris again this morning, aren't you?"
Naya nodded miserably, holding her cup against her chest, as if hoping caffeine osmosis would wake her up. "She's unnervingly perky," she managed to mumble out, pleased with her ability to conquer a word more than two syllables before seven, "and she introduced Chris to coffee."
"You poor thing," he cooed, settling onto the edge of her coffee table, nursing his own drink, though he seemed far more coherent than his best friend. "You'd better drink up then. Makeup wants you there in fifteen minutes."
"We'll be in pajamas. What is the point of makeup Little Bee?" she groaned, burying further into fabric of her jacket and silently wishing her body would eventually adjust to early mornings as Kevin continued to relish in her ever-present AM grumpiness. "If they can basically make a computer that you can fit in your hand, why haven't they invented an IV drip of caffeine?" she continued, her sentences growing in length and becoming easier to understand. Narrowing her eyes a second time as the man across from her chuckled again, she lifted her cup of coffee to her lips and sighed contentedly for the first time since arriving on set.
"Since they can't do that, I promise that if you pull yourself off of this couch and get to your ass to makeup, I'll run down to Starbucks and get you another mocha before I have to hit the studio. How's that sound?"
"It sounds like you're Prince Charming, and I really should just marry you," she giggled, brushing her bangs back from her eyes as she struggled to a sitting position. Her hand traveled downward, covering her mouth as she yawned for what had to have been the fiftieth time since she abandoned her bed an hour ago, and she shook her head in an attempt to push the dredges of sleep from the fuzzy corners of her brain.
"No makeup, no Starbucks," he reminded her, extending his own hand and lifting her from the cushions. "Flattery will get you nowhere when it comes to coffee supply." Smacking her on the backside, he cajoled her toward the trailer door, conscientiously lowering her aviators from the top of her head to protect her still-sensitive eyes from the harsh reality of the morning world. Watching carefully as Naya started in the direction of the trailer on the opposite end of the lot, he saw Lea swoop in, chatting animatedly as the other brunette cowered in response. Laughing to himself, he nearly ran into Heather, who was absentmindedly staring down at her hands, which contained a simple brown bag.
"Hemo, I'm sorry!" he chortled, steadying them both. "I'm enjoying the train wreck that is Miss Naya Rivera before eight AM." He gestured across the lot, where Lea could be seen gesturing wildly as her cohort hung her head and clung relentlessly to her now nearly empty cup of coffee.
"You'd think she'd get used to early call times," the blonde returned easily, though her fingertips fidgeted against the material beneath them, accentuating her words with audible crinkling.
"She'll never get used to them, you know that. I mean, you used to have to wake up to that – " His eyes widened and his breath hitched, silently cursing himself for bringing up what had been dubbed that-which-must-not-be-mentioned by the rest cast who knew of their brief rekindling.
"It's fine Bee," Heather waved him off, "really. It's fine."
He nodded, wholly unnerved by her nonchalance, but thankful that it hadn't resulted in a blow-up or breakdown, as it had with her ex for several months after their split, however mutual it had been. "I'm running to Starbucks," he offered in an attempt to quell the tension. "Do you want anything?"
The woman quickly shook her head, smiling softly. "I'm good, thanks." Making a few stops before heading toward the makeup trailer herself, she opened the door to find a significantly perkier Naya, her fingers gripping a large coffee cup even more tightly than before. "Morning," she whispered as she sunk into a chair near the brunette, nodding to Kelley that she was ready and chuckling as the artists swept around her, pulling her hair back and beginning to work diligently against the pallet of her skin. "Did Lea manage to talk your ear off on your way here?"
"Nearly," Naya chortled, receiving nothing short of a death glare from the woman above her, holding an eyeliner pencil precariously close to her lash line. "I'm getting used to it though," she continued, straining to keep her face still as she spoke. "As much as my body revolts against early mornings, it's come to terms with Lea's soliloquies, regardless of the time of day."
Heather stifled her own laughter, not wanting to upset the woman above her with movement as the brunette had, though she shifted her eyes to the left, catching a mischievously twinkling chocolate gaze reflected in the trailer mirror.
"You're done," Kelley confirmed, running her hand down Naya's shoulder. "Get to your trailer and get ready for your first scene. Lea and Chris should be on set within the hour, and we're running a tight schedule today." The actress nodded dutifully, maneuvering around the chairs and pausing at the door before twisting around on the balls of her feet. "Hemo, what time is your lunch today? Maybe we could go to that café on Sunset Darren mentioned last week." The makeup artist applying the blonde's foundation pulled away quickly, anticipating Heather's sudden movement – a nearly snapped neck as she took in her best friend's open expression, hopeful and tinged in desperation. Her mouth slowly caught up to her mind and she nodded, mumbling an affirmative, secretly appreciating the sigh of relief that escaped Naya's lips. "Okay," she whispered, taking a single step backward as she echoed the other woman's nod. "Text me when you're done filming this morning."
Allowing the door to shut behind her, the brunette held in her excitement, opting instead to walk quickly in the direction of her trailer to burn off the buzzing in her limbs, whereas a brilliantly beaming dancer remained behind her. Taking in the makeup artist's smirk, Heather rolled her eyes and chuckled. "You heard nothing," she chided teasingly, unable to contain her own smile. "It's nothing," she insisted.
"Sure it isn't honey," Kelley called from over her shoulder, pleased to know that the pair seemed to making an attempt at amends.
As the blonde's hair was worked on, having finished the simple makeup her character more often than not boasted, Naya slipped into her trailer, finding her costume for the morning's filming laid out on her couch with a brown paper package settled atop it. Ignoring Kelley's directions to quickly change and make her way to set, the brunette settled into the cushions parallel to the outfit, setting her second coffee onto the table and pulling the simply wrapped parcel onto her thighs. She tugged at the string holding it together before pulling the paper away, finding a simple grey Moleskine notebook and a single black pen, both without a card. She ran her fingers over the leather binding, smiling softly at the thoughtfulness of the gift before flipping the cover open to determine if a card had been tucked within. Instead, in careful cursive, the loops slightly oversized, were a spattering of words, the handwriting distinctly recognizable.
Everybody stares as she goes by
'Cause they can see the flame that's in her eyes
I've never doubted you. Everything you are is something beautiful, and the rest of the world will be so lucky to learn that.
Don't give up on yourself, because I haven't given up on you. xoxo Hemo