Prompted to write this so I hope I've done it justice! Will carry on if you guys like it. Hopefully it will improve as I continue and I eventually want to include more glee characters. Let me know if there's anything you think I should include. Anything that's unclear at the minuet will be made clear within the next few chapters.
Includes original characters… hope you like them!
Set in Central London.
Will eventually include more Glee characters, but they will be introduced later on.
Bridget -Tate Carlyle woke up to the sound of busy garbage trucks peeping loudly as they prowled down Stratton Street. She rubbed her heavy eyelids and set her bare feet on the red bricks of her hotel suite's terrace, pulling her ex-boyfriend's red baseball jacket close to her slender frame.
Even though she was all the way up on the top floor, sixteen stories above Stratton and Old Bond Street, she could hear the loud noises of the city coming to life below her. It was very different from her home just outside the centre of London, where she'd grown up falling asleep on the beach with her then boyfriend, Joshua Owen. His parents were high business associates on the South side of the bank and he and his brother had always spent their summers in a sunny seaside town named Cornwall. Joshua had surprised Bridget with a brief visit to the West end of London over the weekend, but he'd left last night. When she couldn't sleep, Bridget had dragged a quilt onto the terrace's hammock.
Sleeping outside? London style baby!
Bridget shuffled through the sliding French doors and into the fully decorated Amarillo suite she'd been living in for the past two weeks and was now expecting to call home for a while. The series of large open-planned rooms were spaciously and contemporary decorated in tone with the hotels collection of themes. The rooms, with their gleaming hardwood floors and impeccably well-chosen canvases were not exactly homey yet Bridget felt comfortable in the five star Amarillo suite.
She dragged the Harrods duvet behind her, mopping the flawlessly cleaned floors as she wound her way to her roommate Quinn Fabray's room.
Quinn's summer blonde hair was strewn across her pale pink pillow and her breathing was a little heavier than usual as she pushed her face into her pillow. Bridget bounced on the bed.
"Morning!"
Quinn sat up and pulled the strap of her white Cosabella tank top up slightly on her lightly tanned shoulder. Her mid-length straight hair was matted and her powerful hazel eyes were bleary, but she still looked cute, just like she always was.
"It's morning," Bridget announced, bouncing up and down on her knee's like a four year old high on excitement. She was trying to sound perky, but her whole body felt heavy. It wasn't just that she'd had to move out of her own apartment last week due to some form of water damage; it was that she was still adjusting to not being able to make the hotel feel like her home, even if she had been running round the wide halls of Mayfair hotel since she was three.
When Bridget was born she had been completely unexpected. Her mother, a famous London designer had been head over hills in love with London's top surgeon; Edward Carlyle. Her father was a conservative, suit wearing business man who dabbled in the industry of raising awareness and essentially saving lives. He was all clean lines and sharp edges. Perfectly respectable. But Bridget hadn't fitted in with that image very well when she was born, since they were both just eighteen at the time. Bridget was always too messy, too loud, too impressionable and too much for a single parent, but her father had fallen in love with family life and together her mum and dad had recreated the perfect family picture simply by defying the rules high society had been bound by. Her lovable mother and handsome father always believed Bridget could be someone, despite popular beliefs her mischief had caused whilst she was at high school.
Not that she wasn't already someone. Bridget was the girl everyone remembered. The one everyone loved to hate. She didn't have to try to shine: she shone brighter than the rest of them already.
Now, Bridget wondered if she'd proven the doubters right. Not that she cared, she was still someone. She bounced on Quinn's bed some more. Quinn groaned sleepily.
"Come on, wake up!" Bridget urged, even though it was barley nine, and Quinn always liked to lie in.
"What time is it?" Quinn sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She couldn't believe her and Bridget were so close. After all, not many people could get away with waking her up so early. Bridget was always doing ridiculous things, like teaching their bosses dog Token to dance or going for a run at three in the morning. But that's what Quinn loved about her. It reminded her of someone she once knew. Sometimes it was as if she was perpetually stoned. But even though the coyote bar she worked at was filled with stoners, Bridget had never been into drugs.
It never really seemed like she needed them anyway.
"It's after ten," Bridget lied, biting her full bottom lip. "Want to go outside? It's really pretty." She smiled, a smile so pure it almost broke Quinn's heart with its beauty. An effect she had on most people. Quinn took in Bridget's naturally sexy, tousled hair and slightly puffy emerald green eyes and knew immediately that she'd been crying over her loser ex-boyfriend all night.
Back before Bridget and Josh broke up, Quinn had done everything possible to avoid Josh and his gross, boyish habits, but this weekend it had been impossible to avoid him. He'd been everywhere, constantly around Bridget reminding Quinn of why she'd never liked men. Plus she hated to admit it, but she felt sort-of… threatened. She knew Bridget had liked that he was authentic, but did authentic have to mean appalling?
Short answer? No.
Sure he was handsome and treated Bridget like royalty but that didn't cut it with Quinn.
"Okay, I'll come outside." Quinn pulled herself out from underneath the designer duvet and padded barefoot onto the terrace as Bridget followed. Both girls squinted in the bright, morning sunlight. Below them, the wide street was empty except for the occasional taxi or sleek black business car pulling into the hotel's private carpool area. Beyond the street was the lush expanse of Hyde Park, where the girls could barely make out various paths winding through its vast greenery.
The two women sat together, swinging in the hammock and looking over the other landscaped terraces surrounding Mayfair hotel and Hyde Park's perimeters. Everything seemed deserted, which made Quinn question what time it really was. Yet she didn't care when Bridget rested her head on her shoulder, their thighs brushing together as she snuggled closer.
Quinn sighed in contentment. Up here, she felt like the world stopped for her, like running away was worth everything she risked, like nothing would ever compare to the calmness and content she felt inside.
"Hey." Bridget's brother, Hudson, six foot two and shirtless, stepped onto the terrace carrying a carton of orange juice and a bottle of champagne, wearing only his swimming trunks. Bridget rolled her eyes at her swimming-obsessed brother who could drink anyone under the table and still beat them at poker. He was drinking her champagne from the minibar which she'd undoubtedly have to pay for.
"Orange anyone?" He took a swig of orange juice from the cartoon and grinned at Quinn's repulsed grimaced. Bridget shook her head sadly as her glossy brunette hair brushed between her shoulder blades. She flashed her brother a lazy grin. Her tousled hair had already gained a few bronze highlights from the beginning of summer as she hadn't been in the dance studio as much.
"What's up?" Hudson asked the girls companionably.
"Nothing." Quinn and Bridget answered at the same time. Hudson sighed. Girls had always been so much easier to understand when he was ten; before they started acting all coy and mysterious. He'd only just turned eighteen and was using this weekend as an excuse to get drunk since he was staying with Bridget and didn't have to go home and face their family maid. Bridget and Quinn, being two years older didn't really care what he got up to, as long as he didn't get in their way.
He took a swig of orange juice and wondered if he'd ever understand women. If they weren't so irresistible in general, he might have become a monk.
He placed the unopened bottle of champagne down on a small outside table, and squeezed onto the hammock next to his sister. He glanced across at the mass of trees. Hyde Park always seemed so small from terraces yet it took him forever to walk through it on his way home from college.
"What's going on B?" Hudson asked, as gently as a guy could. She simply shook her head, but he knew anyway that it was something to do with that jerk Joshua. "He's not worth it." He shook his head, earning a definite nod from Quinn in agreement.
"I don't care." Sighed Bridget, hugging Josh's red jersey closer to her toned body as she pulled her long, honey coloured legs to her chest. Quinn watched her eyelashes flutter against her tanned cheek as she looked at the ground.
"I care B."
Words she said so many times before.
She really meant it when she said she cared. She just wished the brunette would realise that. It was killing her to see such a genuinely caring, beautiful girl get hurt over and over again. Plus her feelings were getting harder to push aside.
Bridget didn't say a word. The moment felt too precious for her to risk breaking. Instead she snuggled even closer to Quinn, entwining their fingers loosely. Hudson looked on as the girls became quiet, all of them watching as the sun appeared over the top of classic townhouses and dog walkers started to appear.
Hudson ran his hands through his short dirty blonde hair, remembering something. "Oh actually, I'm glad your both up." He said, breaking the comfortable silence "I have something to show you. Come on, its inside." He gestured towards the open-planned living room, his excited grin childish and endearing.
Bridget chuckled as Hudson slid enthusiastically of the hammock and padded into the apartment with her and Quinn following his long strides. For the past week Hudson had been acting as an art advisor for a girl from his new course starting in September. He had been to an opening every night, usually in an overcrowded, money drenched gallery in Mayfair itself, where he'd drunk champagne and pretended to know what he was talking about. Bridget expected it to be some kind of 'art' he wanted to show them.
Hudson led them through the expansive dining area, into the expressive contemporary chic living room where an electric fire raged beneath the plasma.
Bridget dug her toes into the fur rug lining their living room, her duvet still hanging of her shoulders.
Sitting next to the large lime sofa which was decorated with brown and burgundy cushions, was a two foot high canvas splattered with paint. Bridget could just make out tiny, obscured patterns within the paint that spelt 'Love lasts.'
"What do you think?" Hudson grinned, staring down at the canvas "A man was selling it last night for just a pound on New Bond Street when I was coming home last night from a concert. This is supposed to be authentic, London City art." He added casually.
"I can, erm… see why." Bridget murmured softly, but then she smiled tilting her head as she evaluated the 'art'.
"I'm out of here." Quinn announced, unable to hide a tiny smile from breaking out across her lips as she backed away from the canvas as if it were contaminated. "Bridget and I are going shopping." She decided, locking eyes with the stunning brunette as if willing her to say yes. Bridget had been moping around in Josh's stupid jersey all weekend. It had to stop.
Bridget shook her head, pulling the red sweatshirt tighter against her toned body. She actually kind of liked the 'art'. It looked just as out of place as she felt sometimes. "I have plans" she lied. She'd decide what her plans were as soon as she was out of Quinn's sight.
Hudson gazed at the canvas. A fraction of the picture looked as if it was winking at him. He really needed to get out of the house.
"I..uh, need to pick up some swim stuff ." he vaguely remembered an email telling him he needed to get his uniform from the team captain before his first term at college started. The team captain was going away on holiday so today was his last chance. "I better get going, but don't steal the art girls. I know you wanna." He grinned, kicking his feet as he wandered to the kitchen.
"No danger of that happening." Quinn and Bridget mumbled, sharing a knowing smile.
Bridget, Hudson and Quinn all scattered to different ends of the apartment, preparing for whatever they had planned that day. College started again tomorrow. It was Bridget and Quinn's last term at West London College but it was also Quinn's first ever time there. She didn't see the point of joining for the last term, but there were things she could gain by carrying on afterwards. It was going to be Hudson's first day as well.
It was the dawn of a new era.
Hudson came back and casually carried the canvas back into the spare room where he's crashed last night. "Have fun on your last day of freedom!" he called, his voice echoing of the walls of the hotel suite.
Like they didn't always find a way to have fun!