I'm so sorry that this has taken me so long to get out. I have been ridiculously busy with school and spring break trips and such (excuses, excuses, I know) but this chapter is a big one so I hope you guys like it! I changed the rating to M because of this chapter, so just be warned for that. I tried to make it long for you all, though. :) Thank you SO MUCH for all your fabulous reviews, It seriously means the world that you all like my measly writing, let alone call this story your favorite. Honestly, thank you. Now, enjoy!



S:

The light hit me like an anchor as I slid off the bus. I struggled with my bags, hobbling unsteadily on the pavement, yet no one offered their help. No one even glanced in my direction.

I bit down on my lip and gnawed hesitantly, shielding my eyes from the sun; in my mind and throughout the short bus ride (although it seemed painfully long), I had convinced myself it would be nighttime, or maybe that Tegan had changed her mind and was waiting for me outside. Neither was true, and it made my steps impossibly heavy and difficult.

I walked onto the sidewalk and hummed under my breath with some will that maybe if I hummed loud enough, I could drown out all my fear and insecurity and forget about the suddenly terrifying situation I was in. But by the time I rounded the corner and entered the hotel, I was trembling with some kind of unforeseen fear that I couldn't control.

I was alone. Completely and totally alone.

I grit my teeth and had to remind myself that it was my fault I was in this mess, and although this statement was my attempt to inject some sort of purpose in my bones, my bags still felt painfully heavy as I approached the front desk.

The man at the desk flashed a smile and asked in a voice surprisingly attentive for the worn mask he was wearing: "Can I help you, dear?"

I tried to ignore the fact that he had called me dear despite the fact that I was at least 5 years older than him. It seemed fitting, though. I felt so tired.

It took me a moment to realize that he had actually asked me a question – fuck, Sara, how old are you now? – and I fumbled with my words like a damned toddler.

"I, uh… My sister. She got me a room. I don't really know what name she put it under, she usually handles this stuff. U-uh, probably. Quin. What? My first name? Oh, Sara. Sara Quin."

The light took its time as I turned the switch, bubbling and buzzing before dimly lighting the room. There was a twin bed in the corner – oh, the irony – and a small bureau and mirror. It was sparse and barren, but I didn't mind. It was better to have less to get attached to, anyway.

I pushed my suitcase against the bed without any real intention to unpack it; living out of my suitcase was always easier for me, I knew where everything was at all times so there was no chance of losing anything. I tossed my Blackberry on the bed and Tegan's words filled my head: Can you call me when you get settled? Please?

I sighed and ignored her voice whispering in my head and walked into the bathroom instead. There was one of those showers you would find in a public gym, without any curtain or glass for privacy. It made me feel exposed and uncomfortable just looking at it, so I promptly turned away to face my reflection in the mirror.

I looked old, almost sickly, with bags under my eyes that were far too pronounced. I wanted to take a shower, but not in the fucking rapist death trap in the bathroom, so I simply pulled open my suitcase and threw on a new outfit. As I stepped into my jeans, I caught sight of my phone, lying on the bed beside my watch and the other things I was too lazy to clean up. With scorn, I thought of the cruel irony that, of course, when I was still half-naked, I would think of my sister.

"Godfuckingdamnit." I grumbled as I hastily threw on my shirt and dialed Tegan's number. It went straight to her answering machine, which meant she either ignored my call or her phone was off. Her phone was off, that was it. But my voice still sounded rather pathetic when I finally spoke: "Yeah Tegan, it's me. You told me to call, so this is me calling." I paused and tried to think of something to say without making a fool of myself, but after mulling in silence for about a minute, I realized I had already achieved that. I hung up without another word.

After staring at my blank phone's screen for twenty minutes and flipping absently through TV channels, I found myself annoyed and restless with a craving to get out of that fucking hotel room. I figured even if I had nowhere to go, anywhere was better than that unhygienic limbo. I grabbed my cardigan, stuffed my phone in my pocket, and left the room without even bothering to lock it.


It was around 6:00 by the time I managed to find my way out of the hotel and onto Ste. Catherine Street. It was finally dark and undoubtedly colder than I had expected; I unconsciously shivered and wrapped my cardigan tighter to my body. The street was unfamiliar in the night, proving merely to be a sad realization of the fact that, despite the fact that I had lived in Montreal for nearly a year, I still hadn't gone out at night more than twice. I coiled my fingers around my cardigan and pulled it tighter.

Ste. Catherine Street was named by all the tourist books and city maps as the main street of Montreal, and I had driven through it on the city bus at least a dozen times. And yet, in the dark, I could hardly make out anything familiar, save for a local bar down the street that I had played a gig or two at in restlessness between tours. Hell-bent on something to ease my mind, and now suddenly craving a strong drink, I j-walked across the crosswalk and pushed open the doors.

I was not one of those regulars that could just stroll in and spin onto a stool like in the movies. Instead I paused for a moment on my initial entrance, lingering in the threshold, doubting myself in the face of old-time friends and drunks having a good time. I was merely a restless girl with no other place to go. I spied an empty stool on the far end of the bar and dashed to it, slipping onto it so quietly that it took at least 15 minutes for the bartender to notice me.

He smiled apologetically and slid down towards me. "My apologies, miss." He smiled again, warmly, and I figured I could like this lonely bartender. Maybe I would even get to join some of the regulars sometime soon. "Didn't see you there. What can I get you?"

"Just a beer." I gave a small smile.

"Oh come on, live a little." Over my shoulder, I saw a woman swing around the stool next to me. She was noticeably beautiful, with warm brown eyes and slender legs that I found myself staring at for a little too long. Her beauty was almost intimidating, so much so that I couldn't even bring myself to look her in the eye. "Get her a gin and tonic, Paul. It's on me."

She turned to me now, smiling warmly, and I mumbled a quick thank you under my breath. It was leagues less than graceful, but she merely grinned a white-toothed grin and giggled softly.

"Anytime," She idly spun around the glass of her already finished drink. "I'm Brianna, by the way."

"I'm Sara. Thanks for the drink, again." Somehow I had sporadically re-developed my gift of speech, and luckily, my voice came out much smoother than expected. She smiled and winked lightly. "If you say thank you again, I'll have to make you buy me one in return."

Her voice was genial and friendly, not flirtatious, and I reckoned that I was in the mood for a friend rather than a lover, anyway. She was impressively easy to talk to and subsequently, with the more drinks I drank, the more secrets I let slip between my teeth.

After the 5th gin and tonic, I had let slip the fact that Emy had broken me clean in half. Brianna merely laughed genuinely, mumbled something along the lines of whatta sucker, that Amy chick. Or whatever. and I easily laughed back. She spoke about something that, at the time, sounded ridiculously funny and I nearly spit out half of my drink laughing.

"Wait, wait," Brianna sputtered between laughs. "I have just the thing for us." She was suddenly impossibly focused as she dug through her purse, and I played with the melting ice in my glass as she looked. I nearly fell out of my seat at the sound of Lion In A Coma in my ear, and caught my breath for a good 30 seconds before realizing that it was my phone that was ringing. It took me 6 minutes to realize that my phone was lazily sitting in my pocket, and another 1 minute to open it. By that time, Lion In A Coma had replayed at least 3 times and a large one missed call flashed across my screen.

Tegan.

For some reason, the thought of calling her foreshadowed an abrupt end to my suddenly wonderful night, so instead I powered off my phone and let it sleep in my pocket. "Who was that?" Brianna had finally managed to dig whatever the hell she was so intent on finding out of her purse, and now looked at me expectantly.

"No one important." I shot back quickly.

She raised a brow. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Definitely. Definitely definitely sure." My voice sounded rather foolish, even in my drunken ears, but I didn't give a damn. Brianna merely grinned and offered her hand as she hopped down from her stool. I took it immediately and hobbled down.

"Where are we going?" I sounded ridiculously whiny. I didn't care.

"Outside." She said with a smile in her voice. At the time, putting one foot in front of the other proved to be a rather difficult task, and Brianna had to pull me a number of times to keep up. She pushed out of the double doors and swung around the corner with me lagging lazily behind, humming some tune whose name had slipped my mind. She stopped suddenly and I nearly ran into her back; she laughed and grabbed my forearm to keep me steady.

"It's cold." I whined, and my nose brushed her neck.

"Well, hopefully this will cheer you up." She smiled and held up a bag of something that, in the dark, looked simply like a bag full of fucking dirt.

"I don't want dirt."

She laughed, nearly hysterically until I angrily turned on my heel to go home.

"Sara, Sara, wait." She sputtered and grabbed the hem of my shirt to pull me back. I was too dizzy to fight back so I let her drag me back into her hips.

"Sorry." She struggled to paint on a straight face and keep the laughter out of her voice. "It's not dirt. It's weed."

I raised a brow. "You smoke?"

"Not all the time. Just when a good opportunity comes along." She trailed off as she sat down on the ground to roll it. I watched her, transfixed. I hadn't smoked weed since I was 17, and somehow now it seemed so much cooler. I sat down beside her.

"We're drunk."

She glanced up at me, a smile in her eyes. "This is true."

"We're really going to get high when we're drunk?"

"We're already fucked. What's left to lose?"

What's left to lose? Nothing. I'm already lost. In the simple attempt to get my mind to rest, I nodded enthusiastically. She grinned and struggled to pull her lighter out of her purse.

"You can have the first hit. My treat."

"You already bought me three drinks." I protested, but took the joint all the same. She grinned and clicked her lighter.

"It's okay. I like you, Sara. Now inhale."

I obeyed and inhaled.

I choked nearly a second later, and Bri laughed happily and took a hit as I coughed into my cardigan. "It has been a long time since you've done this."

She sounded like she was underwater. I took another hit.

"Shut the fuck up." I snapped and she merely grinned and laughed again. She looked beautiful, even in the dark, and I was suddenly envious.

My damned lips couldn't stay closed, so I spat out: "You're beautiful."

She smiled and handed me the joint. "Inhale."

I obeyed and inhaled.

Rinse and repeat.

After we finished, I stood up shakily and took her hand in mine. My feet felt leagues above the ground and I smiled happily, pressing my nose into her shoulder.

"I'm going to walk you home now."

"I can get home by myself. It's a hotel. I can find it. I have a room."

"No fucking way. You can hardly walk."

"I… I can get there."

"Shut up."

I hiccuped and she smiled. "Which way, m'dear?"


It took 15 minutes to reach the hotel that, on a normal day, would take a 5 minute walk, at most. I didn't mind though, and took the time to fumble for my key in my pocket.

Brianna had my phone in hand, hastily typing her number in it. She typed the wrong number in twice, and grumbled as she attempted to fix it.

"There," She said happily as she handed it back to me. "Tonight was fun. We should do it again."

"Mhm. We should." I had the nearly overpowering urge to kiss her, and with some kind of alcohol-induced confidence rose to my toes to do it. She gently put her fingers to my shoulders and pushed me away. "Sara," She breathed, and suddenly couldn't meet my eyes. "I'm straight. And engaged."

My heart that was beating wildly dropped down and shriveled in my ribcage. I turned on my heel to leave, but she caught my wrist in her hand.

"I'm sorry if I led you on. I know I did. You're just so… intriguing; I don't know how to explain it." I stupidly had the urge to cry and did my best to block out my fluctuating emotions and the guilt in her voice.

"Please, Sara." Her voice trembled. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to shrivel away and die. I wanted a lot of things, too many things.

I didn't say anything, and instead threw open the lobby door and jogged up the stairs to my room. It took me three tries to open the door before realizing that I hadn't locked in it the first place; I slammed the door heavily behind me, annoyed and blistered at my own stupidity.

I couldn't think straight. There was a knock at my door, quick and harsh, and I grit my teeth angrily. I fumbled with the doorknob and threw it open haphazardly.

"Go the fuck away, Brianna."

"Who the hell is Brianna?" Tegan glanced at me slowly, raising a brow slightly. She looked tired, with dark bags under her eyes, and I wondered if her insomnia had come back. "You smell like pot. Fuck, Sara, are you high?"

I couldn't help but grin and hiccupped. "And little-"

"And drunk?" She sounded angry now, and pushed past me and into the foyer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I shut the door and sauntered over to her. In the dim light of my hotel room and in the haze of my mind, she looked strikingly like Emy. Maybe it was Emy. She looked like Emy, I wanted it to be Emy, and so in my mind she was Emy. She had just stolen Tegan's voice.

She threaded her hands through her hair as I sat down next to her. We sat in silence for what felt like hours, and the ugly floral wallpaper of the hotel swirled and blurred in my eyes. I wanted to tear the damn thing down until my fingers bled, but I restrained myself.

"Sara," Tegan breathed my name between her fingers, and it made me want to taste her skin. Emy's skin. My Emy's skin. "You're killing me, you know that?" Her voice sounded so damn tired and I felt the guilt bubble up like acid inside my stomach. She finally turned to look me in the eye. I didn't know what to say, so I merely stared at her until she sighed and stared back at the ground. I gently leaned closer to her and laid my head on her shoulder. She smelled like Emy, I think. But then again, I couldn't remember what the hell Emy smelled like in that moment, but I convinced myself of it anyways. She sighed again and shrugged my head off of her shoulder. I swung around and attached my lips to hers, rather roughly, before I could stop myself.

She tasted like Tegan, so maybe she had stolen Tegan's lips, too.

Luckily, she didn't protest and lay back against the pillows so I could splay messily on top of her. Her fingers braided into my hair and she gasped into my lips as I dug my hips into hers. I had missed her. I had missed my Emy, no matter how much her voice sounded like Tegan, and how great she tasted, and how much I wanted her, and how I moaned Tegan's name instead of her.

My mind swam. I couldn't think.

"You taste like gin." She breathed into my neck, and before I knew it, my shirt tumbled off my shoulders and onto the floor. I hadn't even felt her take it off. "You never drink gin."

"I…" I lost my train of thought when she sucked on my collarbone and struggled to form words. "I… I was told to live a little."

"And you did that by getting drunk and high?" Her chuckled melted away as I crushed my lips back into hers.

"Shuuuup." I meant to say shut up, but instead I merely barked out an authoritative slur. She listened all the same and let her fingers burn fire on my skin. The minutes ticked away into a blur of tangled limbs and gasps, lips exploring places that I didn't even know existed. I caught a glimpse of our clothes messily scattered across the floor, but I didn't think about it, I hissed a loud Emy, but she corrected me diligently (Tegan. My name's Tegan.) I didn't hear. I only felt.

My eyes blurred. I could only feel.

I gasped and burned and needed and wanted and once her fingers entered me, I let Emy or Tegan or whoever it was do whatever the hell she wanted.