Another Friday night, to get the feeling right
At the bar when he sees her coming over
Artie Abrams sat perched at a Los Angeles bar with his laptop open, and a case of serious writer's block. How was he supposed to write this script- his first script- when he couldn't even get his creative juices flowing? In high school, college, and even directing short films after graduating, Artie had always had a script in front of him to direct. But now he was expected to write the script. He had the idea, just…he couldn't get it down on paper. He took a swig of his beer to keep himself concentrated.
Just then, he heard the door of the pub open, the late autumn air blowing into the room. He turned to see a woman-Slender, long flowing blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a smirk on her face so sharp it could cut glass. Artie couldn't believe his eyes. Did Quinn Fabray, from his high school years, really just walk into the same bar in which he was writing a script for a movie? Quinn glanced around the room and made her way to the bar.
What you gonna do, if she walks up to you
Tongue tied better get yourself together
Pound another drink, to give him time to think?
Artie didn't expect her to come over to him. He downed another gulp of beer and tried to hide behind his laptop. Artie didn't want to see an old high school friend- especially one he had a crush on- while he was looking disheveled and scruffy. The true life of a man who devotes himself to directing. He kept his eyes glued on his laptop as he felt Quinn's body sit on the stool next to him, and ask the bartender for a beer.
Out of the corner of his mind, he could see what she was wearing; a black blazer over a floral top, dress jeans, and a pair of heels. He wondered what she had been doing before this, that made her want to come into a bar. He glanced as Quinn twiddled quietly with the cross on her necklace…Artie chuckled. Still the same necklace from six years ago.
Suddenly, Quinn turned her head with a quizzical look on her face. "I'm sorry," she announced, looking genuinely embarrassed. ",But I've been sitting here for minutes and it's been wracking my brain. Have we met?" she tilted her head to look Artie in the eyes, and he looked up to comply with her. With a smirk, Artie reached on the counter of the bar and put his glasses back on. He made a quick moment of eye contact with Quinn, in which he could see the green in her eyes like he'd never seen before. The look was so familiar, he just had to look away.
"Artie Abrams." Quinn whispered slowly, stepping down from the stool and pulling him into a hug. Artie was so astonished, he didn't say anything. She remembered who he was? "McKinley High School, class of 2012 and 2013, right? If I'm wrong then we should...just forget this ever happened." she chuckled, and Artie tried to find the words to say.
"No! You're…" he chuckled. "You're right. How's it going, Quinn?" he asked genuinely, raising an eyebrow and shutting his laptop shut.
Quinn bit her lip, and looked down at the counter. "Good." she nodded. "I've been trying to get into acting, but…this business is pretty tough." she shrugged, taking a sip of beer.
Artie nodded. "Tell me about it. Director over here." he pointed to himself, then gestured, indicating his laptop.
"And I…kind of go by Lucy Q. now." she gave a modest smile. Artie tried to suppress his laughter, but it wasn't working. He was sputtering. "It's a stage name, okay?" Quinn defended herself, but also smiled. She knew it was ridiculous. "Who knew that the second I get into acting, a flurry of Quinns would show up in Hollywood?" Artie had cooled down from his laughter now, and gave Quinn a pat on the shoulder.
"I believe you, Lucy." he sighed, still chuckling.
What's your sign hey I think you know a friend of mine
All the stupid lines, that he had ever heard
Wouldn't come to mind he couldn't say a word
Tonight tonight, he's gonna get it right
Even losers can get lucky sometimes
All the freaks go on a winning streak
In a perfect world, all the geeks get the girls
So the two of them sat there, conversing and catching up. A few drinks later, the two of them were both pretty buzzed. Artie didn't feel too buzzed, but he knew that once you started exclaiming that you should look through old yearbooks and laugh at everyone, that you were pretty drunk.
"My senior picture was definitely my best." Quinn declared. "Short hair was a really good look on me. I'm thinking of cutting it again."
Artie looked at how her cascading blonde curls looped down her chin, and over her shoulders. No doubting she was beautiful right now, but he definitely preferred short hair on her. "That's a good idea." he nodded. "Your short hair showed off your face more. Which I think, personally, is your best asset."
Quinn gave a cynical smirk and took another sip of beer. Could she tell that he was hitting on her? Or was he just too pathetic for her to notice? Artie was a hit with the ladies in college. The ladies who wanted him to do their homework, who wanted him to take them down ramps on his wheelchair…not many girls really liked him for him. But here he was, sitting in front of Quinn Fabray who's probably dated every Lautner, Pattinson, Garfield, and Pettyfer in this town. He didn't stand a chance. "You've always been…stunning, Qui-" he stopped himself. "Lucy."
Got her holding steady, forget her name already
Sweatin' hard not a smooth operator
She's got it going on, dancing to her favorite song
Quinn laughed at the name slipup, when whatever archangel was running the jukebox turned on Like a Prayer by Madonna. She gave a very happy groan. "Oh my God, Artie." she touched his shoulder with pleading eyes. "Do you remember when we did this in glee club? One of my favorite numbers, hands down."
Artie chuckled. How could he not? "Yeah, you were pregnant during that performance." He could feel Quinn stiffen at his side at the mention of her pregnancy. Oops. "…I'm sorry. That was insensitive." he remarked, clearing his throat.
Quinn shook her head. "Nah. I get to see Beth on holidays, now. Shelby and I worked it out. She's beautiful. Healthy, seven years old…The second grade is being good to her." Artie smiled, partially glad that he hadn't put his foot in his mouth after all, and partially genuinely happy for Quinn.
He's got the line is it your place or mine
"So…" Artie raised an eyebrow, turning to Quinn. "Whaddaya say about that yearbook-revival tonight, hm? Your place or mine?"
She turns and walks away, where did he go wrong?
But waiting by the car, she says what took you so long
Quinn gave a cynical chuckle, downed the rest of her beer, and exited without another word. Artie shouted her name after her, but she refused to answer. Well, shit. He scratched his head, wondering what he'd done wrong. Perhaps the wording made what he'd asked sound sexual, and she thought he was trying to get into her pants. That was probably the most plausible explanation. Artie quickly paid his tab, packed up his laptop, and rolled out onto the sidewalk to find her and clear up what his intentions were.
But standing there, next to his car, was the ever-stunning Quinn Fabray, legs crossed beneath her, and arms folded across her chest. "What took you so long?" she asked with that ever-famous Quinn Fabray smirk, beeping the car open.
Artie frisked himself, searching for his keys- when did she get them and how? What a sneaky woman. She hadn't changed much, and Artie loved it. He laughed, relieved, and rolled toward her and opened up the passenger seat for her. He maneuvered his way to the driver's side, hoisted himself out of his chair, and sat in the driver's seat. After disassembling his chair and folding it, he threw it into the backseat, closed the door, and revved the engine.
"Wow, you're getting around really well with that chair." Quinn said, pulling her seatbelt across her body.
Artie gave a shrug. "Well, yeah. I've been looking into stem cell treatment, actually. I just need this next movie to be a hit, and I'll be set financially." He couldn't help but smile at the thought of walking again….Actually walking. Not with those robotic legs that Coach Beiste had gotten him for Christmas sophomore walking.
"That's great." Quinn sighed dreamily, touching his knee. He imagined what it would be like to feel that. He imagined it would feel fantastic. But just knowing she was touching him made a tingle run up his spine.
Artie put his hand over hers and smiled. "Thanks."
Tonight tonight, he's gonna get it right
Even losers can get lucky sometimes
All the freaks go on a winning streak
In a perfect world, all the geeks get the girls
When they got to Artie's apartment, Quinn, without hesitation, got out of the passenger seat and helped Artie get himself back into the chair. He wanted to tell her that he was capable of doing that himself, but she was touching him again, and he was dazed. Almost like they were in high school again. Every time Quinn touched him then, he felt a spark of electricity- on his end, at least. That hadn't changed. He led her to his first-floor apartment and opened the door, praying it wouldn't be as messy as he'd remembered he left it this morning.
It was. Artie flipped on a light, illuminating every splayed pair of pants, wrinkled shirt, and empty Top Ramen cup in the living room.
"…I wasn't expecting guests." he chuckled nervously, leading Quinn into the living room. He heard Quinn's heels clicking on the ground outside, then stop as she entered the place. He turned to look up at her, and Quinn was glancing all about, taking in every inch of his living space. Why? he plead mentally. Surely, she was thinking he was a pig.
When she opened her mouth to speak, Artie was expecting a "Have you ever heard of a maid?" but instead, he heard, "…Is that our old glee club photo?" Quinn's voice was full of nostalgia as she hurriedly rushed over to the framed 5x7 photo on top of his faux fireplace. Artie liked to keep it there because high school was a great time for him. It was where he really came into his own. This picture in particular was the one taken after they won Nationals for the first time. All of the girls in their matching dresses, the guys in their matching dress shirts and ties, Mr. Schuester in the center clutching the Nationals trophy, looking so proud of his students.
Artie was in the front, next to Tina and Mercedes. Quinn was on the other side of Mercedes, sandwiched between her and Puck. She was smiling sadly at the picture, remembering the better days.
"God…" she sighed, shaking her head. "It's only been what, six years? It feels like forever." Quinn strolled past him, looking around the apartment again.
Artie chuckled. "Five for me." He hated being a grade beneath everyone else. In actuality, he was older than Quinn. But the grade difference made him feel inferior. "We didn't win Nationals after all you guys graduated, though. The best ones on the team were seniors who graduated in 2012. Your replacements just weren't good enough." he shrugged, hoping to flatter Quinn. She smiled, and took a seat…on his lap. Artie laughed. He used to give her wheelchair rides in high school.
"Well, I can't really take you anywhere right now, girl." he said, turning on his swag-cent (and accent that which is full of swag). "But I can escort you to the underside of my bed, where I keep all of my old yearbooks."
Quinn laughed. "That is why we came here, isn't it?" she asked, as if she had just now remembered. "Well, onward, noble steed." she urged him. Artie rolled them into his bedroom, his chair heavy under the weight of the extra body. It had been a while- at least over a year- since Artie had given a girl a wheelchair ride. And at least six since he'd given one as beautiful as Quinn Fabray a wheelchair ride. But knowing himself, and knowing Quinn, wheelchair ride was as far as he'd get wit her tonight. And somehow, he was okay with that.
They entered his bedroom, and Quinn stood from the chair, admiring where he slept. It was even more messy than his living room, and there were at least four pairs of underwear scattered about. He just prayed that Quinn mistook them for plaid, flannel shirts. "Jeez, Artie. When was the last time you've had a girl in here?" she smirked, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing the room some more.
"Hmmm…It depends on what you mean by that. The last time I invited a woman in here? Never. The last time a desperate actress threw herself at me in here? Last week."
Quinn squinted her eyes down at him. "Are you calling me desperate, Mr. Abrams?" she challenged. Artie quickly shut his eyes out of embarrassment. He'd forgotten Quinn was an aspiring actress.
"That's not what I meant." he played it off with a smile, reaching under his bed. He figured now would be the time to pull out the yearbooks, before he said anything else stupid. Quinn took off her heels, pushed them against his bedroom wall, then took off her blazer. She sat on his bed with her legs criss-crossed, and reached for the 2009 yearbook. Artie's freshman year, oh Lord.
He could see her immediately flip to the Class Best section of the yearbook. Cutest Couple of 2009? Quinn Fabray and Finn Hudson. Best Smiles? Quinn Fabray and Matt Rutherford. Most Likely to Succeed? Artie Abrams.
"This was all such a big popularity contest." Quinn commented, despite her numerous victories. "I mean, you clearly had a better smile than Matt Rutherford."
Artie lifted himself onto the bed next to her. (Oh God, Quinn Fabray was on his bed.) "Did you vote for me?" he asked Quinn. "…For Best Smile, I mean."
Quinn scoffed. "Of course not. I voted for Finn, since I wanted he and I to be in every category together." she chuckled. "If I hadn't been so biased, I definitely would've voted for you and your perfect teeth."
Artie laughed. His teeth always were one of his best attributes, he wouldn't deny. "Good. Because I'm pretty sure I voted for Tina in everything that year." Quinn laughed, and turned her body to face him.
"When was the last time you had a girlfriend?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious. Artie was unprepared for this question, and figured he should just answer truthfully.
Artie sucked in a breath. "Sophomore year of college…?" he stated, not really meaning for it to sound like a question. "After that I was strictly business. Not really letting anyone in because I was completely focused on my career." He was ashamed of that fact, since he realized not too long ago that he wouldn't mind having a girl around to share all of his success with.
Quinn moved her hand from under her head, and smirked. The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds, until Quinn reverted her attention back to the yearbook. "Now, let's talk about my baby bump in the glee club picture…"
The two of them sat there for hours, talking about the show business, drinking beer, being nostalgic. And everything about it felt right. Artie had never seen this side of Quinn before- vulnerable, missing her high school life, opening a beer bottle with her teeth…Well, actually, that part didn't really intrigue Artie. It kind of just freaked him out. But everything besides that felt so comfortable and effortless. Why hadn't the two of them been closer in high school? He could've had memories full of nights like this.
Before Artie knew it, his eyes were drooping shut. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, which said it was well past three in the morning. Quinn was obviously tired, too. But right now, they were just lying there, comfortably close to each other, sharing a plate full of Doritos. "Should I call you a cab to take you home?" he asked, punctuating it with not a question mark, but a yawn.
The yawn, as many yawns are, was contagious, and Quinn yawned before answering, "No. I'm comfortable right here." Artie could feel her arm reach out and pull him into an embrace. Hesitantly, he moved his arm around her shoulders and did the same. There had to be some sort of catch here. Was he seriously cuddling with Quinn Fabray right now? Before he could contemplate any further, Artie's eyes fluttered shut, and he fell asleep.
The very next day, he guessed she ran away
The one and only in his bed so lonely
Artie woke up to the Los Angeles sun beaming down on his face. He opened his eyes, then soon shut them because he fell asleep with his glasses on, which usually gives him morning headaches. He sat up. At some point in the night, his shirt had come off. Why couldn't he remember how? He must have lost count of how many drinks he'd had. The bed was empty, except for him. He wondered where Quinn had gone.
Or if that entire night were only a dream. He leaned over and sniffed his pillow, and could smell her vanilla-scented perfume on it. So he hadn't dreamt it. But where was she? Did she call a cab to take her back to the bar to pick up her car? Was she ashamed that she'd spent the night in the arms of the old high school nerd? Artie began to panic, when he heard footsteps in the kitchen.
But she comes walking in, with coffee and a grin
Crazy as it seems, it wasn't just a dream
Quinn walked into the bedroom, wearing Artie's button-down shirt that he had been missing just moments before. And nothing else. That was right. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night (well…morning) and finding Quinn leaving the bathroom. He offered her his shirt to be more comfortable sleeping in. She wore his shirt to bed last night.
"Oh, darn." she smirked, leaning against the door frame with a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with a donut in the other. Something looked different about her. "I wanted to surprise you."
Artie ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, you surprised me alright." he chuckled. He patted the side of the bed next to him. "Come over here."
Quinn complied with a smile and sat beside him. "Notice anything?" she asked, fluffing her hair. Artie was just about to bite into the donut when he noticed.
"You cut your hair!" he exclaimed. Quinn shrugged.
"Yeah, I woke up early and just…chopped it off. I found the scissors in your medicine cabinet. Someone pretty smart told me that it frames my face better as a bob. I'm getting it styled at the salon later today." She leaned back on the pillow.
Artie then, very boldy, pushed a strand behind her ear. "Well that smart guy was right."
After they ate their afternoon breakfast, Artie called a cab to pick Quinn up and take her to the bar to get her car. Apparently, she had an audition today.
Quinn buttoned up her blazer at the edge of the bed, next to him. "Well, thank you for catching up with me last night. I had a really fun time." she sighed, giving his knee a pat. The electrical surge went through his spine once more.
He sat up, leaned over, and cupped her cheek. "No, thank you." he said, leaning in for a kiss.
Quinn retracted, not letting their lips touch, and slipped a piece of paper in his pocket. "Next time you're casting a movie, call this desperate actress. She'd love to throw herself at you sometime." she breathily whispered to him, centimeters away from his ear. The statement was oozing sarcasm, and Artie gave an uncomfortable chuckle.
She then cupped his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you…around, Artie." she said, standing. He handed her her purse, speechless, and watched her walk out.
After hearing his front door close, Artie reached into his pocket to read what she could've possibly written on the slip of paper.
You're the only person in this town allowed to call me Quinn. ;)
Call me.
xoxo,
Lucy Q.
He honestly could not believe the last seventeen hours of his life.
And all around the world, people shout it out
The geek's got the girl
Last night he finally got it right
Even losers can get lucky sometimes
All the freaks go on a winning streak
Shout it all around the world 'cause the geeks get the girls
Author's Note:
Did we like this one? :3 My diction was a little sketchy but I did my best!