Author's Note: Thank you, everybody, for the support. I should have told you, but you should expect daily updates (or almost-daily updates) EXCEPT for on Sunday. On Sundays, I'm at my mom's and her house has no Wi-Fi.

Day Four: Don't You Want Me? by The Human League

"Em, can you bring this to that guy over there?" I asked one of my best friends as I placed a few drinks on a serving tray.

"Sure. Why? Are you going somewhere? Got a hot date?" she teased.

I rolled my eyes. Some of my friends were just like this. They loved teasing me to no end on my non-existent love life. "No. I need to go see David and see if I got anything," I said.

She scoffed. "It's New York. Do you think you got anything?"

Oh, Emily. Always keeping me humble.

"No, but it doesn't hurt to see what people said about me."

"Probably the same old, sung-out song. 'She's great, but she's not special.' 'She's just not what we're looking for.' 'She doesn't have that shining quality that we're looking for,'" she quoted from the last few times I went to see my agent.

I sighed. "I know, but…he thinks it's good for my growth as an actor," I told her.

"You've been telling me that for the last two years!" she called after me as I went to the back room to get my clothes so I could change for my meeting.

A minute later, I came out of the bathroom in normal clothes. Emily offered me a slight wave goodbye. Without looking ahead of me, I waved goodbye back and bumped into somebody.

"I'm so sorry!" I said before looking up to see who I had bumped into.

It was a perfect blue-eyed stranger with perfectly defined features. He was visually almost flawless to me. Wow, that's sappy, but really, he was gorgeous.

"It's okay," he assured me. "I should've been looking, anyway," he added.

I let a small smile grace my lips for a few seconds. He took notice.

"I don't mean to come off as a jerk or anything, but are you a model? You have a…beautiful smile," he commented.

I felt a slight blush rise to my cheeks. "My friend is the model. I'm an actress? A…struggling actress," I answered, my voice falling a little when I explained myself.

"You know what they say; if you can make it, even book one job in New York City, you can do it anywhere else," he assured me.

I nodded, taking in that pearl of wisdom.

"So what was the deal with you and Baby Blue Eyes?" Emily asked me as we both began closing up the bar for the night, a week or two later.

"There is no deal."

"Did you get his number?"

I sighed as I fixed the chairs and stools all around. Emily watched me curiously as she counted the money in the register.

"Yeah, but…I don't plan on calling him anytime soon," I confessed.

Emily stood with her mouth agape. "Why the hell not?"

"Because…I came to New York City to be someone, not to flirt with someone wealthy who uses Manhattan as their own little playground. There's a better place for me—for both of us—than in this bar near Wall Street. We're living in a tiny little apartment on the wrong side of the tracks, Em. We can do better," I reminded her.

"Oh, lighten up, Spence. Just because you want to make it here doesn't mean you can't have fun. You were sitting there, talking to him for a while last week. Why not just ask him out? And if he does happen to be a rich, important person in New York City…maybe he can help you out here," she said.

I looked at her with wide eyes. "Emily!" I scolded. "Are you suggesting that I use him…or let him use me to get ahead?" I asked, bewildered.

"God, no. What I'm saying is that maybe he can introduce you to someone who could make stuff happen for you, like you wanted."

I looked over at her skeptically before continuing to wipe down a couple of bar tables.

It was the same old song as usual. I exited the stage door with by bag in hand, my character shoes still on my feet as I (foolishly) forgot my sneakers in my apartment.

I walked down the darkened alleyway, the only sound being the rustle of some bags and litter and my shoes on the concrete.

I heard my phone ring in my bag, and I fished it out to pick up.

"Hello, Emily," I answered.

"Hey, Spence. How was tonight's show?" she asked me.

I shrugged. "It went pretty well. I only have a few more until I go to California. You're coming with me, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, I definitely will," she assured me.

I smiled and we talked for a bit longer until the conversation was over.

I went up to my penthouse apartment, taking my mail with me. As I opened the door, I was greeted by what life had given me over the course of several years.

It was a stark contrast from how Emily and I lived years ago, struggling. I was certainly very lucky and thankful to have gotten these opportunities. Now I was living with wealth and opportunity.

Just as I was about ready to take a shower and then go to bed, the doorbell rang. I slipped on a bathrobe, going to see who it was. I was very surprised at who I saw behind the door.

It was Toby. Toby who was now a stranger, who I sometimes wished I had only known as that blue-eyed man from the bar.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, getting right to the point. "I thought this was over," I added, colder than I had intended it to be.

"I feel like I needed to talk to you."

"So you could've spoken to me a year ago. Why are you here now?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Can I come in?"

At this point, what did I have to lose? I sighed, stepping aside and allowing him in.

"Things look…nice," he said, making small talk.

"They're exactly the same as they were when I left," I responded quietly.

He nodded.

"I don't want to play games. What are you here about?"

After a painfully awkward conversation with Toby, I thought about our relationship. I lay in bed awake that night, thinking about it all.

Six years ago was when we first started dating.

Truth be told, I think that our five year-long relationship was actually ideal, free of arguments and secrets. It was a good relationship; it was the best I had in my life. But something about it felt too good, like it was never real. It wasn't substantial. I had never experienced love before, so how could I be sure that this was love?

I think that the realization that this may not have been love hit me, and that was what drove me away (for the most part). It was sad, but I didn't want to waste time on something that could not work in the end. It was just time for me to leave.

Looking back, I always wondered if it was selfish, but in the end, it would've been more selfish to keep someone else I did care about (but didn't necessarily love) in a one-sided relationship.

Telling myself that was the only way I had gone to sleep the last few years.

"Which dress should I wear?"

My blonde friend stepped into my huge walk in closet, deliberating on which lucky dress would be worn to some fancy cocktail party. She finally came out with a crimson colored cocktail dress with chiffon layers.

"You will look so hot in this dress," she instructed before handing it to me. "I'll do your hair and makeup, too," she assured me.

I smiled at her, feeling a little better about thing whole situation.

As the room filled with beautiful, successful people in the show industry, I began to think of how fortunate I was. What stark contrast it was from my first year in New York City.

Across the room, I saw a face I wasn't expecting to see, mostly because he really wasn't involved in show business. However, I should've remembered that he was a renaissance man—he was interested fully in the arts.

I busied myself with a glass of pink champagne as he walked over to me as I apparently got his attention.

"Isn't it funny how we keep bumping into each other like this?" he asked.

I scowled. "I'm not laughing." Frankly, I doubted the coincidental part in all of this.

He looked down at my champagne, thinking about what to say. "I know it's been a long time and this might be the wine talking, but…would you want to go out with me?"

I stepped away, incredulous. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I see it as some kind of payback. Are you forgetting that I'm basically the one who put you where you are now? Before me, you were just a struggling waitress in a cocktail bar. I turned you into the damsel in distress, the heroine, the sidekick…basically, anything anyone wanted you to be."

As much as I disliked thinking about it and admitting it, I knew he was right. I would be nowhere without his help.

Finally, I worked up the courage to at least shake my head. I shook my head incessantly before uttering, "No," a couple of times for good measure.

He looked at me with some kind of incredulity in his eyes.

I stepped away abruptly.

I shifted awkwardly as I watched another actor from my company continuously undress me with his eyes. It was beginning to get unbearable.

Finally, by the time I had had it, I marched across the room to Toby, who was sitting near the bar and took his hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked in surprise.

"We're dancing," I said definitely before I put his hands on my hips, putting mine around his neck.

He looked over his own shoulder at the person who was still mentally undressing me. "Call me crazy, Hastings, but I'd say you…need me right now," he said, teasing me.

I scoffed. "I don't need you for anything. Consider this that 'date' you wanted to go on, because this is as close as you're getting," I told him.

"What a shame. I'd really love to brag about having you on my arm," he said, only half-joking.

I stopped seeing him so much as an ass, because really, I was the one who broke things off. Maybe he was really trying with me.

I felt his thumb rub small circles on my waist. "What are you doing?" I asked. I didn't really care, more that I thought about it.

He shrugged, proceeding with his actions. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Does it matter what I want anymore?"

He shrugged again. "Yes," he answered finally.

"Do you want me?" I asked quietly.

He looked me in the eyes. His piercing blue eyes made me feel a little bit weak. "Of course, I do. You're beautiful," he answered simply. "Have you changed your mind?"

I was silent for a moment before I shrugged. "I'm just wondering."

So, it really wasn't a date; he just walked me back home, which happened to be about twenty blocks away. I was planning to take a cab home (and driving in New York City was kind of suicidal anyway).

Something just clicked, and it was a little bit like things were when we were dating, except with less sexual tension. But it felt like more.

It was about two in the morning when we got to my apartment building.

We finally walked up to the door of my penthouse and I actually found myself liking him again.

"I guess this is where the night ends," I said as I looked at the door.

He nodded in agreement. "Is this where we end?" he asked anxiously.

I looked at him sadly. "Toby…"

His lips came closer to mine, very slowly. I didn't fight him off. "Just tell me to stop if you don't want to…"

I let him kiss me once, giving him a slight kiss back. When he pecked me a second time, I whole-heartedly kissed back.

Finally, his lips broke contact with mine. "Fine," I whispered, my lips brushing against his. "I love you," I said definitely. I wasn't sure if I was only admitting it to him, because I felt as though I had admitted it to myself, too. "I still love you, and I want you," I said quietly.

"You already know how I feel."

I nodded before I let him kiss me again.

Eh, don't tell me. I already know this wasn't my best work. Frankly, it was a little bit too much like my last one-shot for my liking, and it felt a bit like a Finchel fanfiction instead of a Spoby one. Obviously, both Spencer and Toby are kind of AU. I'm sorry, guys! I didn't know what to do here!

eveningshades1107: Thank you for your awesome words of wisdom (which I will respond to more in detail when I update Everything Has Changed). I want to see more Drunk Spencer! We've only gotten her like once and it was like fifty times too little! And I'm sorry this one...wasn't that great. Hopefully tomorrow's will be better! And hopefully, I can find it in me to write another chapter for "Everything Has Changed" by tomorrow. Right now, I'm feeling a bit like a soulless pit of nothingness.

AL3110: Why are you pissed at my nutritionist? Just wondering. She's just telling me like it is, but seriously, I miss my sugar. Most of all, I miss dessert. I don't think I'd care so much, but she took away my Oreos and chocolate chip cookies, which makes me sad. No bueno, honey.

HFrischmon: Thank you! I would say I hope you liked this one, but honestly, I didn't even like this one that much. Oh, well.

Coming up next is Red by Taylor Swift. I put my own little spin on things, so I hope you don't mind :) -Slightly Less Pissed, with a Higher Blood-Sugar Content Kayson