Brody sits in his dorm, his mind unable to stop going over his conversation with Rachel. He had obviously cared more about her than she had, but he had known that all along, hadn't he? From the first time he saw the painted heart on her wall. He should have waited until she had enough time to heal. The heartbreak was too new, but she was beautiful. Amazing brown eyes and that laugh. He rubbed his face. Seeing her around was going to be impossible. If the need to kiss her before had almost been impossible, now that he had - and done more than just that - being around her was going to be torture.
He pulled out his cell phone, seeing that he has a text from the agency he works for. He texts the person back, declining the job for the night before he scrolls up to B - Berry, Rachel. He hesitates at her number, wondering how pathetic it would be to text her. The time indicates that she would have just finished her classes for the day, probably headed to catch the train back home, if she didn't have plans in the city. It was Thursday night, Callbacks would be packed and the woman was a natural on the stage. Maybe he should go, just to watch her preform. To force himself to used to watching her from afar. He sighs and tosses his phone to the side, flopping down against his mattress, draping his arm over his eyes.
He must have fallen asleep, because when he opens his eyes again, his room is dark. He reaches for his phone to see what time it is and sighs when Twitter has sent him a text:
goldstarberry: my, my, how can I resist you. Mama Mia w/ Kurt and Santana. #pityparty
Technology was going to be the end of him. She could imagine her sitting in her some of her adorable-looking pajamas, hugging a pillow, watching the musical with her best friends. He sighed, unable to "resist" her. He unlocked his phone, coming face to face with her phone number and clicked to send her a message: You're way prettier than Amanda Seyfried.
He regretted it immediately, knowing that it made him look like the grieving ex-boyfriend who couldn't let go, but... well, maybe that's who he was. a pathetic grieving lying male hooker ex-boyfriend. He could accept that. He never expects his phone to buzz again. He looks down to see her name before he reads the message: :) Sky might have you beat.
He laughs, grateful that things weren't too awkward. Maybe they could do this. He immediately replies back: Are u kidding? I'm way better.
He waits and smiles when his phone buzzes almost immediately: you* ;)
If anyone else had corrected his spelling, he would have rolled his eyes, but ever since their first kiss, he had been adding misspelled words into his text messages, just to watch her correct him. It taken her 6 days for her to ask about it and less than a minute for her to smack him into the chest when he explained that he was doing it on purpose. The way he eyes had light up and how she had kissed him afterwards had, though, had been worth the slight sting. It just a way to tell her that he appreciated her, with all her quirks. That she could correct his spelling and grammar as much as she liked as long as he had enough time to continue to make the mistakes. It was good to know that even though they were over, he hadn't run out of time.