►Chapter One◄
"Rory, you're thirty and single." Paris glared at me.
"Thanks for pointing out the obvious." Lying on the sofa with my feet dangling off the arm, I put the book I was reading on my chest.
"Seriously, I never in a million years thought I would be the one to marry first." She came over, no longer fussing over the exact number of cheerios going into her breakfast bowl, and stole my book away.
"Hey-"
"What is this?" A strand of my hair was suddenly in her hand.
"My hair that you are about to pull out?" I winced.
"Rory, you haven't washed your hair or gotten out of your sweats for three days. And, you've been eating a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts three meals a day." Flopping down beside my head, she continued. "You need to get your act together, my friend. I can't have a fat, pathetic maid of honor. That looks bad on me. And Doyle. He's already going to be the shortest person in the crowd minus the flower girl and ring-bearer. He can't have a bride with a lame best friend as well."
I sat up. "Paris, leave me alone."
Just as I was getting up to stomp to the kitchen, looking for more donuts, the front door opened. I froze in my spot.
"Hey." Dean stood at the doorway. His hair was in his eyes, as usual.
"What are you doing here?" I glanced back at Paris. Did she tell him to come?
"Rory." He advanced towards me.
I backed away, the back of my knee stabbing into the hard edge of the couch.
"Listen to me."
"No, stop. Just go away." Anger rushed to my head. How dare he barge into my friend's apartment looking for me after what he did?
"Lindsay and I are over. It was a mistake. It meant nothing." His voice was low, as if talking to a misbehaving child.
"How could you?" My voice rose several octaves. "Five years together, plus all those years while we were younger, and you do this?"
He came closer until I had no where to run, and grabbed my arm before I could react.
"Just give me one more chance." He looked into my eyes. "I made a mistake. I drank too much. I was depressed."
The scent of alcohol from his lips was unmistakable. It was a smell I knew too well after these past months.
Ripping my arm away, I glared. "Right, because you lost your job, you're deep in loan, and we had a fight, so that gives you the right to sleep with your ex-wife?"
Jaws tightening, he grabbed my shoulders. "Rory, I know you love me. And I love you. Let's not do this. Let's not fight. Just come home with me."
"You're delusional." I jabbed at the door. "Get the hell out." This was it. I was no longer going to stand his crap. Years of memories flashed before my eyes, but I didn't care. My anger, at that moment, took over.
His body shifted while his eyes hardened. After our stare down, he backed away. "You'll regret this."
With that, he stomped out the door.
►It's about time◄
Paris was right. My life was pathetic. Who knew that my first, sweet love would turn into hell after so many years invested into our relationship? We met while we were in high school, instantly connecting. We were cute, adorable, the couple you saw on the bus, holding hands. The couple every teenager wanted to be.
Fast forward twelve years, after many tribulations, we sat at home, not even caring about the others' day. He lost his job, and sank into depression, coming home drunk night after night. While I tried foolishly to rekindle what was long lost, just because I couldn't bare losing all those years of my youth. Like that, I held on for two years. It seemed like I no longer smiled. Sure, I faked my smiles when I saw my mom or friends. But, I had no real friends anymore, except Paris. All my friends, even my childhood friend, Lane, had been telling me to get rid of Dean for years. But, I was too determined, too proud, to let go. I wanted to prove to everyone that we were in love, that we could make it. In the end, I was alone and miserable. I was just a thirty year old woman, in sweats, who her boyfriend cheated on.
►It's about time◄
"When's she leaving?" Doyle whispered to Paris, although loud enough for me to hear, sitting two feet away.
Pretending to be oblivious, I stared down at my food.
"Stop it." Paris hissed back.
"Rory." She turned to me.
"Hm?"
"Now, don't be mad, but I did what any good friend would do. After all, I'd like to think I'm a great friend, after all those times you were there for me." She looked at me with those droopy, puppy dog, Paris Gellar eyes. If a puppy dog somehow looked like it could kill, then it would be the expression Paris mastered. "But, I got you a date tonight. So you better shower up. You can even wear that blue dress I got last week. Just don't stain it or you'll be single for life because I'll never let you see the light of day." She was dead serious. You would not want to challenge those eyes.
"What?" I blinked.
She got up and dragged me out of my seat.
"I'm not finished." I tried to place the fork in my hand on the table without it falling to the ground while she tugged me towards the bathroom.
"I'm sure those donuts will keep you full. Come on, I'll strip you myself if I have to." She shoved me into the bathroom and closed the door.
►It's about time◄
"Can I at least see that guy's profile?" I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling self-conscious in the dress I eventually settled on. I hadn't dressed up in ages. What Dean and I, nowadays, considered to be a fancy date was Chinese take out and Coke cans in front of the TV.
"Okay, but don't drool." Paris went into the living room and came back with her laptop in her arms. She set it down on the bed and hopped on. I joined suite.
After a few clicks, a profile stared back at me.
Name: Logan Huntzberger
Age: 32
Hobby: Jogging, skydiving, reading
Interested in: Women
Job: Online magazine editor
Then, she scrolled the cursor upward. "I saved the best for last."
The page stopped, and an adorable smile met my eyes. A guy looking no older than twenty five was on the page, grinning from ear to ear. His blonde hair was caught flying in the wind. My gaze was held by those puppy dog, brown eyes. Now, these ones were sweet, deep, and maybe a tad wild. Something about this guy made my heart skip. Ripping my stare away from those eyes, I took in his attire. Noticing his black harness and the sky behind the open door, I realized he was ready to jump out of a moving plane.
"Ha-ha, Paris. A sky-diver?"
"He's an online magazine editor, not a sky-diver." She threw a matter-of-fact look.
"Either way, this is crazy." I crossed my arms. "I'm not going."
"Yes, you are." Paris stood and pulled me up with her. "In fact, you're getting out the door right now."
"What?" I pouted. "You can't kick me out. I'm your best friend. Who stayed with you after you had a fight with Doyle, while you were dead drunk, and held your hair while you puked into the toilet at a gay pub? Who-"
"Your pretty mouth doesn't work on me." She cupped my mouth so all words were stuffed into my stomach. "Get out now. The cab's waiting. I already gave the driver the address." With freakishly strong arms, she pushed me into the living room.
I flung my arms around in the direction of my purse until she grabbed it and handed it to me.
Seconds later, I was out the door, which once again slammed behind me.
►It's about time◄
"You're Ms. Rory Gilmore?" The driver turned back to look at me after I got into the only cab waiting outside Paris and Doyle's apartment. The neighborhood was just as shady as the one we lived together in back at Yale. She had a talent for picking out living quarters.
"Yes."
"And you're going to Le Chatelier?"
"Um, sure."
"Okay." He eyed me dubiously before turning back.
The car started moving as I stared out into the New York traffic.
This was ridiculous. I was now officially one of those single, 30 year old losers who needed their best friend to find them a date online.
►It's about time◄
I walked into the beyond fancy restaurant with golden chandeliers and wooden railings that led up to the second floor where a hostess was waiting. I climbed the stairs while focusing on not tripping in heels. I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Though Dean was much taller, after many years together, I lost interest in dressing up. Especially when I would barely get an eye off the TV when I did dress up and walked by him to ask how I looked. Then, after some pouting and nagging, I would get a barely intelligible grunt of "you look good".
At the thought of Dean, anger pulsed in my chest and I ended up half-stomping to the entrance.
"Reservations?" asked the hostess with a heavy British accent, matched with heavy eyeliners.
"I think so." Trying to take glances into the restaurant, I tip toed slightly. I had no idea what I was looking for. The sky-diving hunk of an eye-candy, perhaps. "My name's Rory Gilmore and I'm suppose to meet a guy here. Logan something."
She flipped around the large book on the podium. "Right here, Rory Gilmore and Logan Huntzberger?"
"That's the one. Something burger." I nodded. My thoughts were distracted by the color of the girl's hair. It looked like Lindsay's. I bet Dean would sleep with her.
"Follow me this way." She smiled.
I was glad to notice the slight crook in her front teeth. Clearly, I was now not only pathetic, but also bitter. I just needed a dozen cats and I would fit right in with my next door neighbor.
Observing the expensive decor of the place while we passed by tables, I wondered who picked this restaurant.
"Here we are." She waved to a table.
"Thanks."
"Anything to drink while you wait?"
"Champagne, please." That seemed like a good choice. Better than Coke from a can.
"I'll be right back." She threw another smile.
Okay, she was quite pretty and seemed nice. Suddenly, I felt guilty about my silent jabs at her earlier.
Fidgeting with the menu, I was getting increasingly nervous. What if he doesn't show? It was stupid to let Paris force me into this. I should have resisted harder. Remembering the guy's eyes, a knot formed in my stomach. He was adventurous, gorgeous and a magazine editor. Way out of my league. What was I doing here?
►It's about time◄
"Hi, nice to meet you." A voice smooth as brandy stunned me, causing my head to snap up.
A pair of caramel eyes met mine. For a second, I was at a loss for words. "Uh, hi."
The gorgeous creature extended a hand. I stared before finally accepting his handshake.
"I assume you're Rory?"
"Yes, and you must be Logan." I came to my senses and tried to stand up, only to soon regret it. Being so close, his cologne flushed my nostrils. The scent made me drowsy.
"Yes, I am." He smiled. "Shall we?"
"Hm?" The sound came out my mouth.
His eyes crinkled as he gestured to the table. "Have dinner."
"Oh, right, yes. Of course." I stuttered as I sat back down. Wow. After countless years with the same person, I had, indeed, lost my ability to carry on a conversation with someone attractive. Compared to Dean, this guy was as clean cut and proper as the president on a campaign poster.
I looked across the table. He was looking at his menu, his short blonde hair mussed on his head. I noticed how no hair fell into his eyes.
Replaying his breath-stopping grin, I smiled down at my menu. This could be an interesting night.
Thanks for reading, please leave a review :)
For those of you who read my other story "Leap of Faith" (which I shall abbrev to LoF for short, I know it doesn't sound great), let me explain.
I wanted to do a little writing exercise, write 1 chapter in 1 hour, because when I write chapters for LoF, I put a lot of time into them. I wanted to free my mind, and write whatever came to me, without really editing, for 1 hour. I'm hoping over time I can improve the quality and content of the writing I can get done in a shorter period of time. I wasn't even going to post the story.
So, I put the timer on and began to type with no idea what I was going to write about. This story just came out. I decided to share this, in case, it appeals to anyone, since it's a Rogan fic after all. I'll only be updating this whenever I feel it's time for my brain to take a break as I'll be back to writing LoF. When I finish it, I can focus on this story.
I hope you enjoy my little experiment.
As always, feedback is much appreciated! Thank you! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls