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Chapter 1: Summertime Sadness
I adapted to the nighttime noises of New York City rather quickly. After a couple of weeks the busy melodies actually became soothing and now lull me to sleep. That is of course if Rachel isn't practicing an annoyingly loud show tune in her bedroom at some odd hour of the night.
Lately she's been waking up at three in the morning to rehearse because she says that's when her voice sounds naturally raspy. She'll never admit it, but I know she envies me. These makeshift curtain doors have got to get replaced; especially since Blaine and Kurt have been getting their mack on every other weekend.
Every time I pay a visit to the landlord's office his wandering eyes make it apparent that he's not even listening. I thought that wearing a tight dress and stilettos would help make my request a top priority. I'm finding that in the Big Apple, good looks aren't getting me as far as they did in Lima. The competition here is fierce and yet I still can't land me a smoking hot girlfriend.
I keep falling for straight girls that are brainwashed by Katy Perry. They only enjoy the temporary thrill of being with a girl because ultimately they crave a white picket fence life with the prince charming husband. I don't even bother meeting girls at bars or clubs anymore. I'm kind of over being told they don't care. So there.
A few weeks ago I finally mustered up enough courage to ask out my favorite Starbucks barista. She managed to turn me into a morning person with her million dollar smile alone. After I asked her out she flashed me that heart melting smile and said yes. I had to stop myself from fist pumping, and I hate fist pumping. We exchanged phone numbers and had an amazing date a few days later. Her name was Emma.
We were flirting all night and had such good chemistry. She was also wearing heels that made her legs look amazing. I just couldn't help myself, so I invited her back to my place. It was fun, but something didn't feel right. The next morning I asked her if she wanted to get some breakfast with me.
She cocked her head to the side, gave me a sympathetic look and said "Ohh I'm sorry. This was just a one time thing for me. You get it, right?"
Yeah, I got it. All too well. Suddenly memories of Quinn came flooding back to me. We never spoke again after that experience. The thing is, I'm not sure if it was circumstantial or if we just drifted apart.
I decided to challenge it this time.
"No. I really don't get it. Please, elaborate," I said a little too harshly.
"I think I should go," she replied. She started dressing herself and I averted my eyes.
"So that's just it, Emma? We had an amazing time and you just used me? If all you wanted was to fuck me you could have at least told me before I spent a night's worth of tips on you."
She stared at me until I made eye contact with her. Her expression turned into one of pity. She half smirked and calmly replied "that's just how it goes sometimes," and walked out.
I had never felt so broken. I'm exhausted. I'm done trying.
I think I might be more upset that I now have to walk an extra three blocks to get a coffee. I still haven't had one that compares to hers. Fuck Emma. No, don't fuck Emma. That's what got me into that mess.
I feel a slight pain in my chest. The feeling of loneliness usually sets in around this time, when I want to get my snuggle on. Spooning my body pillow tonight will not suffice. I swiped the screen to unlock my phone and read that it's 1:03A.M. I clicked on the Facebook icon and scrolled through my news feed. After looking at several pictures of happy couples, one engagement, and a newborn baby, I let out a heavy sigh and placed my phone back on the wooden nightstand.
I try to remind myself that people aren't actually as happy in real life as they appear to be on Facebook. Everyone puts up their best pictures and gloats about how amazing their lives are. Or complains about it, depending on their use of the site as a public diary instead of a bragfest. The theory doesn't reassure me. It actually just depresses me more.
I suddenly have the intense desire to smoke a cigarette. I picked up the bad habit while waiting tables. I know I shouldn't, but coworkers continued to offer me one when I was stressed out. Table 23 tried to feel up my leg, table 31 sent their steak back twice for not being cooked enough, and I just couldn't take it anymore.
I regret the way I treated servers when I was in high school. The last time I was in Lima, I went to Breadstix to apologize to the waitress I tormented countless times, but she had recently quit. I hope she moved on to bigger and better things.
I peeled off my covers and stood up in nothing but black lace underwear and a tank top. I opened up my dresser and put on a pair of pink sweatpants so that I could smoke on my fire escape.
I retrieved the box of Marlboro's from my large leather purse and opened it up only to realize that I had already smoked my last cigarette on my way home from work tonight. It figures. I guess a stroll down the street to the convenience store might help me clear my head anyhow.
I slung my heavy purse over my shoulder and slipped on some sandals. I grabbed my leather jacket too just in case it was a chilly summer night. When I stepped outside I inwardly thanked myself for being prepared at all times and put on my jacket.
It didn't take me very long to get to the 24 hour EZ Mart. As I pulled the door open I noticed that someone was about to leave so I held the door open for them. She looked up at me and smiled wide while saying "thank you."
Her hair was flowing and golden. Her eyes were as blue as the sky. She was absolutely beautiful. I couldn't help but give her a goofy smile in return. Before I had a chance to say anything further, she disappeared around the corner. And just like that, she was gone. I shook the thoughts from my head and remembered the task at hand.
I walked in and quickly scanned the store for any other patrons. I constantly feel like I'm on the defense and always need to be aware of my surroundings. Stranger danger. I relaxed my shoulders and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. It was just me and the man with the thick beard and red rimmed eyes.
I walked up to him and before I could open my mouth he instantly turned around and placed my favorite box of cigarettes on the counter.
"That'll be $9.59," he said.
"Wow, you're just full of charisma tonight. Aren't you going to at least lecture me about how I shouldn't be starting this habit?" I retorted.
He maintained eye contact with me and blinked a few times. He had no intention of saying anything further.
"Aren't you going to tell me about how this will ruin my pretty face by yellowing my teeth and causing wrinkles to form?"
No response. Not even the convenience store cashier gives a shit about me. He seems to only care just enough to remember my usual order. I slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter.
"Keep the change you filthy animal."
"I take offense to that."
"It's a reference. Home Alone. Ever seen it?"
He looked blankly at me and I shook my head. The bell that rang out when I opened the door was a cue for the light bulb going off in my head. I suddenly realized how desperate I was for any attention at all.
I slid out the first cigarette and flicked my zebra print lighter. I had to cover my mouth with my hand and try again because the wind had picked up. The nicotine instantly reached my lungs and I felt the familiar buzz in my head. My eyes fluttered closed and I leaned up against the wall for a moment. I puffed on the cancer stick several times and felt instant relief.
This was exactly what I needed and I may have cleared my thoughts enough to fall asleep. I started to head back to my apartment with my chin up and a slight smirk on my face, enjoying my head high. I started to comically swing my arms until I heard a blood curdling scream that stopped me in my tracks.
My heart started racing and adrenaline was coursing through my veins. Another scream rippled through the cold night air. I slowly crept up to the alley that was several feet away. When I peeked around the corner I quickly took in the sight and retreated my gaze.
A blonde girl was on her knees with a burly man standing behind her and holding her hands back. Another man was standing in front of her and was in the process of taking off the bandana from his head and tying it around her mouth. He was so short that he was eye level with her.
I stole another quick glance, but this time the shorter man was screaming at the girl and commanding her to shut up. When her muffled scream was attempted, he cracked her jaw with his fist and then quickly connected again right below her eye.
My heart broke at this sight and I knew what I had to do, but risk my life for a girl I didn't know? That was just crazy. I didn't have time to mull it over any longer, hoping that the element of surprise would work in my favor.
I rounded the corner and as I crept up on the scene, the blonde had fallen to the ground, earning a hard kick to the ribs from the taller man.
I pulled out the pepper spray from my purse and prepared it for use. As if I had been practicing this for weeks, I kicked the shorter man in the groin from behind while spraying the taller man in the face.
I knew I didn't have much time so I grabbed the girl by her arm a little too aggressively and tried to pull her up. She resisted.
"I'm trying to help you. Please come with me!" I said to her as calmly and sternly as possible.
That's when she looked up at me and I realized she was the girl coming out of the convenience store. Her eyes were a duller shade of blue and wide with terror. I pleaded with mine and she seemed to finally understand what was going on.
The men on the ground were starting to recover and she let me help her stand up.
"Can you walk?" I asked her.
She nodded and held one hand to her ribs while the other one hooked around my shoulder for support.
We started a quick pace towards the flickering street lights.
"My place is only a few blocks away. We can go there for safety and call the police," I suggested.
She looked at me wearily. "Do you have a better plan?" I asked.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. This girl was so fragile.
When we arrived at the front of my apartment building I shakily took out my keys and opened the door, letting her in first. I was still hopped up from the nicotine and adrenaline. When she stepped inside she instantly wrapped her arms around herself and studied the ground. I shut the door behind me and decided I should try introducing myself.
"Hey, you're safe now. I'm Santana." I awkwardly stuck my hand out.
She continued to train her eyes to the floor and shuffled her feet. "I'm Br...Brittany."
She didn't even notice my hand hanging there, so I lifted it up to her chin. She still couldn't look at me. I eyed the gashes and bruises forming on her face and grimaced.
"Brittany, do you want to go up to my apartment and clean these cuts?" I tried.
She slowly nodded in my direction. This seemed to currently be her only way of communicating.