I've decided to start a new Faberry fic, post High School. Not a lot of Faberry in this chapter, but it can only go up from here! I hope you like it!
The City of Fame, Galore, Fortune, and Berries.
Quinn Fabray sat at a whole in the wall bar. Being 1 in the afternoon, the run down bar was pretty dead. There was an old alcoholic in the corner, whose head was laying on the dirty bar where Quinn's half empty glass of rum and coke sat. The bartender stood inside the bar area and dried some dishes with a pissed off expression, probably mad he had customers on a Monday afternoon.
Quinn picked up her drink and finished it. She thought about getting another one, even though she should be out trying to take some pictures, but right now the glass seemed lighter than the burden of stressing herself out over some stupid pictures that wouldn't sell anyway. She asked the bartender for another one.
The bell for the door rang as a perky looking brunette walked in. Quinn didn't even feel like turning her head to look at her, probably just another failure like her. But then, the girl opened her mouth.
"Can somebody give me directions to this apartment?"
Quinn would recognize that condescending, drama queen, bossy voice from anywhere. Rachel Berry, the old high school drama queen, solo fanatic. It'd been at least 7 years since she'd heard from Rachel. When Quinn decided to move to New York, she'd figure Rachel's name would be in lights a few years later, but she was wrong. Eventually, she just sort of forgot about her. But she could see that Rachel didn't change very much, she would be the very person that thought everybody would want to help her. Even a run down bar in Manhattan full of depressed drunks that didn't give a shit about anybody.
Quinn decided to just sit still at the bar, her head plastered at the surface of the bar. She hadn't seen Rachel Berry in 7 years, she didn't need to say hello to her. She didn't owe Rachel anything. They weren't in high school anymore, it was the real world. She didn't need to even acknowledge her. But Rachel obviously thought differently, for the moment she glanced at the blonde's hair, she knew it was Quinn.
"Quinn Fabray? Is that you?" Rachel walked over to get a better look, "Oh my god! It is you! I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth! You stopped replying to my weekly chain e-mails!"
It was true. Rachel tried to stay in touch with everybody by sending a weekly e-mail out the moment she got to college, trying to stay in touch. Eventually, Quinn got sick of seeing everybody doing really well and deleted the e-mail account. She thought for sure everybody did.
"Hi Rachel," she muttered.
"What are you up to! We need to catch up! Why are you in this...place, at..." she looked at her watch. Hadn't she learned nobody used watches anymore? "1:22 in the afternoon?"
Quinn just held up her drink.
"Hm," Rachel thought, "Well, I guess I'll have one too. Excuse me Sir Bartender, can I have a Cosmo?"
Quinn couldn't help but to laugh, Rachel would order the girliest drink she could think of in a bar that obviously only served mixed drinks with soda. The bartender rolled his eyes and put some sprite in a class and vodka and slammed the glass on the bar.
"Well, I guess he's not having a very good day," Rachel muttered to Quinn. Quinn wasn't very happy that Rachel had decided this was catch up time, she really wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody, especially an old high school acquaintance.
"So, how's everything going, Quinn? Did you graduate from Yale?" Rachel asked. Quinn nodded. She had graduated 3 years ago, but everything just went down from there. She felt like a lost puppy out of college, she had no clue where to go. Somehow she ended up in New York.
"Me too. Well, not from Yale. Actually, I did a program over in Europe." Rachel told her.
"I thought you were going to NYADA?" Quinn sort of mumbled.
"I was going to, and had full intentions to go. But then this program from Europe contacted me and it was just a deal I couldn't turn away. I actually just moved back to the states a weeks ago and got an apartment here!"
So that's why Quinn hadn't heard about Rachel during her time in New York, she had yet to hit the city.
"Speaking of the apartment I just recently rented, can you help me find it?" She took her purse out and dug into it for a piece of paper that looked to be printed out from a computer.
"You didn't look at it before you rented?" Quinn asked.
"Um, no. When I learned I was coming back to the states I started to look for one. And I bought one while I was there too. I figured anything in New York was good enough for me!" She beamed. Rachel doesn't know too much about the city yet. Did she not realize that types of places and scams that were available? Rachel handed Quinn handed the piece of paper. Quinn glanced at the address.
Shit. She thought. Somehow, in the huge city of New York, Rachel had ended up in the same apartment building as Quinn. Now, no matter how hard she tried, she'd had to deal with Rachel and old high school days. And knowing Rachel she would not leave her alone and try to have dinner parties or whatever Rachel's mind thought was a good idea.
"Is something wrong? Did I make a mistake? Did I buy an apartment in the wrong part of town?" Rachel asked, worried.
"No," Quinn answered and picked up her drink and finished it, "I can help you find it. C'mon." Quinn got up and dug into her purse and threw a few dollars on the bar.
"But I haven't finished it! Do you think they have a bendy straw?" Rachel asked Quinn. She rolled her eyes again, and the bartender who overhead came over. He put his hand under the bar and found a Styrofoam To-Go cup. The kind they gave kids in a restaurant. He took Rachel's drink and poured it in, snapped the lid on and jammed a straw through the lid. "Merry Christmas," he shoved her the drink. Quinn knew the bartender only had done that in the hopes that Rachel would leave.
"Oh! Thank you so much!" She pulled out a twenty from her purse and left in on the bar. She was obviously still getting money from her parents. "You don't drive right? I don't want you drinking and driving!"
"I've only had two drinks, Be-" Quinn stopped herself. She was now 25 years old, High School habits of calling people by their last name to offend them, weren't acceptable, "Rachel. I'd be fine. But no, I don't drive. Your apartment is in walking distance." Quinn was avoiding telling Rachel that they would be living in the same building, maybe she could somehow hide from her, or at least avoid her for some time.
"Oh, ok! Well, I thought so. The taxi driver wasn't much help and didn't speak much English. So I assumed he dropped me off sort of close," Quinn ignored this and just started walking to the door. Rachel picked up her to-go cup full of an alcoholic drink and followed her. At least most people wouldn't know what was inside of it.
Outside the door was Rachel's suitcase. "Rachel! Why did you just leave your suitcase out here?"
"Well, I didn't know where to put it. I didn't think they'd let me bring it in, they could have thought I was trying to rob the place!"
"How could somebody like you just think it was okay to leave a suitcase full of expensive clothing items outside on the streets! You're lucky it's still here!" Quinn couldn't get over how careless Rachel was. Rachel Berry, organization queen of high school, person who knew everything about everything should know that leaving a bag outside of New York is a no-no.
"It didn't. So I guess it's okay," Rachel said matter of factly and pulled out the handle, ready for Quinn to lead her. Quinn rolled her eyes and dug a cigarette from her purse and lit it. She started walking.
Rachel's jaw dropped, "Quinn Fabray!" She started walking faster to catch up, "What is that poisonous object in your hand?"
"A cigarette. Would you like one?" Quinn asked sarcastically.
"Do you have any idea what that can do to you, and more importantly your voice!?"
Quinn snorted. She hadn't sung since the day she left high school, but she wasn't about to tell Rachel that. It was just one more thing she'd be lectured on. She decided to just keep walking. Rachel got in front of her and tried to grab the lit cigarette from her hand. Quinn quickly dodged it and stopped walking.
"Listen, Rachel. This isn't high school anymore. I am a grown ass woman, if I would like to ruin my lungs, it's my choice. Now please, let's just keep walking."
Rachel sighed, "Do you want me to look into a program?" Quinn ignored her and kept walking.
15 minutes later they reached Rachel's new home and Quinn's previous home. Quinn asked what floor she was on.
"3, room C16. Are you going to escort me in?" Rachel asked hopeful, "Maybe you can stick around some and we can go out later tonight! I've never been out in New York City! You can show my the night life!"
The truth is, Quinn had to escort Rachel to her room, no matter how much she didn't want to, because she was also located on the third floor, room C14. The room right beside C16. She thought about how she was going to get out of this one, but it didn't seem likely. It seemed as if Quinn was stuck with Rachel Berry, even in her adult years.