Hi. Usually I'm too lazy to post full stories here, because it kind of confuses me. LOL. But I'm doing it for Katie, and for Julie, with the vague hopes that re-reading will somehow help my sequel inspiration. So yeah. This one's already done. So I'll post whenever you guys want more. :)
Let me know what you like, what you don't, I love hearing your thoughts!
Song Inspiration: Blondie-The Tide Is High
X
Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada.
She'd seen the sign from the airplane, and it was all the confirmation that she'd needed to assure herself that her best friend was, indeed, correct. This vacation would be exactly what she needed, and for once, she felt content with her spur of the moment decision. Well, it was the second time this week she had that feeling; the first of course being when she broke off her yearlong engagement with Mark Sloane, who had previously been the supposed love of her life. But he had cheated on her, and she knew that her happiness – rather than her mother's arrangements – was what really mattered in her life.
"Meredith," Cristina had said, "You need to go. Get out of this town. Get crazy, get drunk. Do something stupid. Do something for yourself."
So she did.
She had hopped on the cheapest flight from Boston, and had endured several layovers throughout the country. She texted Cristina quickly, telling her friend that she had finally made it to 'Sin City', and that she'd be in touch. She pulled her carryon bag from the compartment above her seat in Coach, sighing and waiting impatiently for the other twenty rows of people to leave the plane. She checked her watch – it was shortly after eight o'clock, Vegas time (eleven o'clock Boston time) – thankful that the resort Cristina had booked for her was only a short taxi ride away. She didn't bring anything other than her carryon bag, and she was glad for that, as she had flown Delta. She smiled as she remembered her stepfather's acronym for the airline – Don't Expect Luggage to Arrive – and she had to stifle a laugh as she watched frustrated tourists waiting at the luggage belt. She made her way to the taxi bay, quickly deciding to share a cab with two people she assumed were newlyweds.
"Business or pleasure?" the cabby asked her, trying to strike up a conversation with Meredith.
"Maybe both," she sighed in response, slipping an earbud into her right ear and turning the volume up.
"You're at the MGM Grand, right?" he asked her pointedly, his accent thick, rolling his eyes at the couple in the backseat.
"I bet you see that a lot," she smirked; he returned the smirk and rolled his eyes once more, waiting for Meredith's real response. "Nope. Paris."
"Oui, Oui," he retorted, accelerating as he merged onto the crowded expressway.
Las Vegas was nothing like Boston, and it certainly wasn't anything like Seattle, where her father lived. It wasn't at all like New York, which honestly surprised her; she expected the cities to be similar. What Vegas is, though, is loud and bright- she could tell this, even from within the confines of the cab. It's crowded and a tourist trap, the pessimistic side of her thought. Right, optimism, she berated herself. She was supposed to be optimistic. Fine, she sighed, Vegas is full of mystery and opportunity. (Gag, she couldn't help but add, smiling satisfactorily that her pessimistic side that always seemed to appear, even when she didn't necessarily want it to.)
Meredith rolled her eyes, thinking she'd rather be hearing the noises outdoors than the noises the young couple were making in the backseat. The cabby drove expertly through the strip, dropping the newlyweds off (not soon enough for Meredith) at Harrah's, and whizzing back into the streets. She tried not to look out the side window, for fear it would make her carsick, instead focusing on the taxicab in front of her, speeding along just a few miles per hour faster than her own death taxi.
If the taxicab driver said anything to her, she didn't hear him; probably by a combination of simply ignoring him and genuinely not hearing him due to the pounding beats of the music playing in her iPod. He turned quickly, causing her to grip the seat and wince slightly as he sped into the drop-off lane. She quickly walked to the back of the cab, the driver hoisting her meager carryon out of the trunk, exchanging money for her belongings. She took a deep breath as she turned and faced the doors of the extravagant resort her friend had booked for her.
"Good evening, Cherie. Bienvenue to Paris: Las Vegas."
The doorman greeted her, and immediately her bag was whisked away by a bellhop and she was ushered to the check-in counter. She handed over her credit card, signed her name on the dotted line, and was directed to her room – the room that offered her the 'perfect' view of the Eiffel Tower and a good chunk of the strip. She didn't care about cost, she didn't care about the sad looks her classmates had given her all week, she didn't care about her mother's disapproval – the only thing she cared about was getting away from the train wreck of a life that she had left behind in Boston. She nodded 'thanks' to the bellhop after he opened her door and placed her belongings inside the lavish suite that Cristina had hastily booked for her.
Meredith stepped inside the room and took a deep breath; she suddenly felt free, relieved. She dropped her coat and purse on the floor and kicked off her shoes before swiftly crossing the room to look out the window, to see the 'spectacular' view for herself. The strip was illuminated before her, the lights bright – almost obnoxious – the city buzzing with tourists and entertainment. She saw the famed fountains of the nearby hotels, she saw the Eiffel Tower statue – it never could compare to the real thing though – she was filled with excitement when she looked around, seeing what this city could offer her. Her phone lit up, signaling a text message from Cristina.
Don't be lame. Go have a drink.
Meredith smiled as she sent her witty reply, quickly crossing the room toward the mini-bar. She opened the fridge, staring back and forth between the miniature bottles of vodka and tequila, finally deciding on the tequila. She grabbed the lime that sat in the container in the refrigerator, biting into it quickly, a bit of juice dribbling down her chin. She wiped he mouth off, and without another moment's hesitation, downed a good portion of the liquor in the bottle. The amber liquid burned her throat, but it wasn't a burn she was unused to. She bit the lime again before taking another sip, this time, the liquid went down smoothly, offering her a feeling of familiarity.
She plugged her iPod into the Bose speaker dock in her room, and turned the volume all the way up, blasting the music her roommates hated. She slipped into the shower – flying always made her feel dirty, especially after a flight with three layovers- singing all the while. A week ago, she was miserable and engaged. Today, she was finally happy, single in Las Vegas and singing at the top of her lungs. Who would have known? she said out loud to herself, swiping at the fogged-up mirror with a soft white washcloth. She ran some mousse through her hair, deciding against drying it, before brushing her teeth.
"The tide is high, but I'm holding on; I'm gonna be your number one!" she sloppily sang into her toothbrush, bouncing around the white and gold bathroom. She whipped her head around, dancing loosely, singing and drinking – generally having a good time while getting ready for the evening.
"Every girl wants you to be her man… but I'll wait my dear 'till it's my turn. I'm not the kinda girl, who gives up just like that. Oh, nooooo-ooo!" she sang. "Fuck you, Mark Sloane!" she ad-libbed, setting the toothbrush down as the song came to an end. She took a deep breath before continuing to get ready.
She slipped the black cocktail dress on – the one that Izzie had picked out for the wedding rehearsal reception- the dress floating over her comfortably, hitting her features in all the right places. She stepped into the strappy sandals – borrowed from her younger sister, Lexie, of course – and finally hit the power button on the iPod docking station. She dropped her room card, her ID, and a bundle of cash into her handbag before shutting the hotel room light off, and heading down to the Casino.
XX
The casino and bar were crowded and loud, tourists of all ages filled the open space to capacity. Various lights were flashing and alarms were ringing, signaling random winners and losers throughout the crowd. Meredith quickly spotted her destination – the crowded bar – and quickly made her way through the thick throng of vacationers. She sat at an empty barstool – how lucky- and quickly ordered her first official drink of the evening.
Two margaritas and a tequila shot later, she felt someone sit down next to her. She had just ordered another shot of her favorite liquor, prompting the bartender to tease her. "Straight tequila? Really? You are gonna be sorry in the morning!"
"I'm always sorry in the morning," she smirked. "But… I'm on vacation, and just broke off my engagement, so… keep 'em coming…"
"How ya doin'?" the bartender asked the man that had sit down beside her.
"Double scotch, single malt please," the man ordered politely as he watched the bartender oblige. He cleared his throat, "So. Is this a good place to hang out?"
"I wouldn't know," she replied. "Never been here before."
"Ah, you know what? I haven't either," he chuckled as she turned away form her. "First time here. I'm on vacation. I've never been to Vegas. I'm starting my residency soon, so…," he trailed. "Ah. You're ignoring me."
"Um, trying to," she faltered, a small smile playing on her lips.
"You shouldn't ignore me."
"Why not?" she asked sweetly, sitting back from the bar.
"Because I'm someone you need to get to know to love," he smirked, amusement playing in his sparkling indigo eyes.
"Really?" she asked, this time the amusement present in her features and her one of voice.
"Oh, yes."
"So if I know you, I'll love you?" Meredith asked.
"Oh, yes."
"You really like yourself, huh?" she teased.
"Just hiding my pain," he quipped, his smile kind and unwavering, and they both giggled slightly. "So what's your story?" he asked bravely.
"I don't have a story," she smirked. "I'm just a girl in a bar."
"I'm just a guy in a bar."
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
"The Tide Is High" The tide is high but I'm holding on It's not the things you do that tease and wound me bad I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that The tide is high but I'm holding on Every girl wants you to be her man I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that The tide is high but I'm holding on Every girl wants you to be her man I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that The tide is high but I'm holding on
I'm gonna be your number one
I'm not the kind of girl who gives up just like that
Oh, no
But it's the way you do the things you do to me
Oh, no
I'm gonna be your number one
Number one, number one
But I'll wait my dear 'til it's my turn
Oh, no
I'm gonna be your number one
Number one, number one
But I'll wait my dear 'til it's my turn
Oh, no
I'm gonna be your number one