AN: Thank you to everyone who has alerted or reviewed thus far. I hope that you guys enjoy the story and leave me some more feedback, you have no idea what that would mean to me! This next chapter takes place two months after the fire if that little subtitle below was any indication :) Review or tiny ninjas will surprise attack you in the middle of the night!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the companies mentioned.
Two Months Later...
Mercedes set her purse down on the kitchen counter, the leather smacked against the marble surface with a low thud. She sighed, dragging her hand through her unruly brown curls, spinning on her heel to walk into the living room. This room has remained unchanged ever since Mercedes was a child, the couch was worn down, the leather peeling off in certain areas. Old photos of her father and mother were hanging on loose nails on the wall above the old fashioned mantle place, the rug was thoroughly beaten down, the coffee table still had scuff marks on its plain black surface. This house was the place she grew up in, she was lucky that her mother allowed her to move in again.
After the fire destroyed her apartment she had no choice, it was either move in here, or rent out a cheap room in a shady motel. That was not going to happen... Mercedes kicked off her heels and set them beside the couch, plopping down onto the cushions with an oomph. She curled her feet underneath her body, resting her head tiredly against the back of the couch. From upstairs she could hear the lazy shuffling of her mother stirring awake from her deep slumber. In roughly ten minutes she could be down here, puttering about in the kitchen in her long silk night dress. Mercedes stuck her hand in the couch cushion, rummaging around in its dark depths for the remote. Her fingers brushed against something cold and leathery and she yanked her hand out in surprise. Her cold brown fingers reached back down to pull out the offending object that had startled her, it was a notebook.
The pages were worn and ruined with age, brown stains that resembled coffee were dried up on the edges. Mercedes shifted on the couch, running her hand over the thin leather cover that was spotted with red polka dots. her thin eyebrows creased with curiosity as she read the name scrawled at the very bottom. "Henry Jones" she murmured out loud, the notebook belonged to her father.
Henry Jones had died twelve years ago of an unexplained cause. As far as Mercedes was concerned it was all the doctors fault, that man didn't give her father enough medicine... It wasn't enough to save him from his untimely fate. He was only thirty six when he died, he left behind so many people. So many family members that were confused, angry and hopeless... and most importantly he left behind his thirteen year old daughter, Mercedes was too young back then to understand much anyway. She insisted that he wasn't dead, that he was only pretending, he liked to trick her like that from time to time. But as the days stretched into months and the funeral had been scheduled she had to accept that he was dead. Now that she's twenty five she doesn't know what to feel towards this anymore.
She's seen too much, felt the emotions of too many people.
Mercedes sighed, carefully flipping open the notebook so that she didn't ruin any of the crumbling pages. Her fathers hand writing were bold and tiny, little entries were etched into the pages and she briefly read them, cracking a smile at the jokes he had written down. Ever the comedian he was.
Soft footsteps began to echo down the staircase and Mercedes slid the book back in between the cushions just as her mother dragged herself into the living room. "You're home late" the older woman replied with a yawn, sweeping her silvering curls away from her eyes. Mercedes got up from the couch and hugged her mother around the shoulders.
" I had to stay late at the office to finish up some work" she replied, setting a kiss on her aging mothers nose. Mrs. Jones snorted and turned away walking into the kitchen. "You hungry?" she called over her shoulder.
Mercedes watched her mother for a moment, taking in her calloused frail hands and stiff tiny shoulders. Elena Jones definitely changed since the day her husband died, Mercedes thought. She wasn't the proud woman she used to be, she didn't switch her hips when she walked or set her shoulders back so that she looked confident. Her curves were disappearing and her eyes were no longer filled with warmth. She may have only been forty six but she could have passed for sixty five easily.
"Mom are you alright?" Mercedes joined her in the kitchen. Mrs. Jones didn't seem to hear her, she was muttering something to herself, bent over the cabinet to get a cooking pan. Mercedes shrugged and prowled through the fridge, retrieving the lunch she forgot to take with her to work. Setting the frozen pasta in the microwave she walked towards the silverware drawer and peeked inside. Grabbing a fork, she waited for the time to be up. After getting her pasta she hiked it up the stairs towards her bedroom. Rain fell outside her windows and she plopped down onto her bed, munching quietly on her food. She glanced over at the alarm clock, it was almost nine o'clock at night... She'd have to go see Eloise and Mr. Lukas in the morning, she was curious to see how they were doing.
...
Mercedes arrived at Eloise's shop early the following morning with a bounce in her step. She was feeling better today then she had in quite a long time. Her heels clacked softly against the sidewalk and she came to a stop outside the pastry shop. She could already smell the heady scents of bread and coffee from where she was standing. A smile spread across her soft features.
She opened the door and let herself inside, getting engulfed in familiar aromas and soft jazz music. She smiled to herself as she gazed around at the soft beige wall paint and the pictures that hung on the nails. She'd painted those pictures; they were pieces from her ever expanding art collection. A few of her favorites were hanging on these walls.
Pictures of Times Square, sketches of Paris, watercolor images of Tokyo and Barcelona… all hung up for everyone's viewing entertainment. Mercedes couldn't help the little giggle that escaped her throat. To everyone else she might look like a mad woman, giggling in the middle of a café like that but she was so happy. At least someone liked her art enough to hang it on a wall.
"Can I help you?" a deep baritone voice erupted from behind the counter causing Mercedes to jump in surprise. The Diva turned her attention to the dark haired man waiting impatiently for her response. His lips were curled into a frown; long fingers drummed a steady beat on the glass counter top before him as he arched an unamused eyebrow in Mercedes direction. His hair was neatly slicked back in a never ending flow of soft brown waves as his eyebrows squinted together.
Mercedes offered up a kind smile, feeling her cheeks heat up underneath his scrutinizing gaze.
"I'm here to see Eloise" Mercedes came towards the counter, standing off to the side as an extremely pregnant woman thrust her chosen beverage onto the counter. The dark haired man turned his attention to his customer, gently sliding over the change and a mug holder before wishing the pregnant woman away with a whispered 'Have a nice day'
"What do you need to see her for?" he focused his foggy hazel eyes upon Mercedes, squinting them suspiciously. He crossed his arms and the muscles upon them were clearly visible from underneath his fitted long sleeved black t-shirt.
Mercedes was unfazed, she cleared her throat before replying, "She used to be my neighbor, I wanted to see how things were going. Her eyes looked over towards the archway that led to a row of narrows carpeted steps behind the counter. That must be where the apartment is. Where Eloise and her father are now living.
The man began to open his mouth to speak as soon as the front door opened again. Mercedes turned to see who was coming in and she was wrapped into a fierce hug. "Mercy you're here!" Eloise's familiar warm voice trickled into Mercedes ears as she hugged The Diva tightly around the waist.
The tinier woman stepped away, brushing a few fly away blonde curls behind her ears. Her eyes were aglow with happiness and she practically bounced on her small feet, trying to contain her excitement. "I've haven't seen you in a while! How's everything? You find a place to live?" Eloise asked, pink lips stretching into a bright smile.
She always was beautiful.
Mercedes nodded, "I'm living with my Mother for right now... Until I can find my own apartment. What about you and your Dad? Do you like living over the store?"
"It's convenient. Now we don't have to wake up early to beat rush hour" Eloise chuckled, a sound that resembled tinkling bells.
Someone cleared their throat from behind the counter. Eloise's bright blue eyes dulled for a moment before she blinked. Mercedes shot the man behind the counter a glare; he glared back with equal menace. "This is my brother" Eloise gestured towards him.
The Diva had to do a double take. How could such a sweet little blonde be related to such a brooding brunette like him? Mercedes gave him a once over, she didn't believe it for one second.
And the man still continued to just stare her down, his lips pulled into a low almost permanent frown.
"Nice to meet you" Mercedes offered a hand but he ignored it, "I'm Mercedes Jones"
"Blaine" he stated, turning to face away from her so that he could attend to the next person in line. Mercedes exchanged a glance with Eloise who just shrugged and mouthed, 'Sorry'
The Diva felt her giddy mood slowly begin to falter.
What was with this guy?
AN: I just went back an combined chapter one and chapter two because they were indeed REALLY REALLY short. So now it's just one big chapter altogether. The new chapter two is on it's way!
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