No amount of concealer could cover up the bags underneath Quinn's eyes. The disgusting purple marks just reminded her of the fact that she hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. As soon as she got home from her…disastrous coffee date with Artie, Quinn had planned to do so much- put together color swatches for party planning at the magazine, unpack some of her belongings, and, you know, not care about what had happened. But all she could do was gnaw on her nails and pace back and forth on her living room floor, and kind of sort of put color swatches on a board until two in the morning. That guy- that stupid guy that she knew for what, an accumulated two hours? He'd taken over her brain, and Quinn couldn't think straight. She hated the fact that she regretted hurting him so much, but knew that if she didn't regret it, that would say much worse things about her than the fact that she even hurt him in the first place.
Quinn flipped the visor mirror of her car back up and gathered her belongings before hopping out of the Volkswagen Beetle and making her way into the magazine's headquarters once more. From the trunk she grabbed her color board, one of those Styrofoam ones that stood up when you presented with them, and walked down the sidewalk. Quinn had spent so much time trying to not appear so tired preparing for this 7:00 am meeting that she'd forgotten to check the weather. The windstorm continued, gusting her hair out of place, and her color board out of her hands just as she'd gotten to the front door.
She sucked in a frustrated breath- karma. This was all karma for being a terrible person, wasn't it? Quinn turned to run after it, but was met by a pair of wheels.
"It hit me in the face." Was all Artie said before handing the board back to her.
"Thank you…so much." Quinn breathed, unsure of how to handle this. "Look…about last night…" she began, but Artie just raised an eyebrow and wheeled past her to the front door. She could nearly feel the chill he emitted in the air. Instead of going inside, Artie just sat there, eyes wandering, looking terribly bored. Quinn followed his gaze before realizing that he expected her to open the door for him. As soon as she had the realization, Quinn hopped to it and took ahold of the front door, allowing Artie to roll himself in. She couldn't help but smirk- If he was really that mad at her, he wouldn't have done that. He was pushing her, to see how far she'd go to prove her remorse. He was crafty. But the true question was…what was he doing at Crave headquarters to begin with?
She was about to walk herself in when she caught out of the corner of her eye, Mercedes, bounding down the sidewalk in that direction.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" Quinn beamed, wind gusting at her powder blue dress. Mercedes perched her sunglasses atop her head.
"I've got an interview. Santana scored me an article in the Entertainment section- it's an expose on up-and-coming artists. I'm stoked. They'll be asking me about my album."
Quinn answered with a big smile and a hug, but left the air silent. She wanted to discuss Artie, but didn't want to bring it up.
She could tell that Mercedes caught her drift. "Artie told me about what happened last night…" she began, "He was really pissed, but I think you'd be glad to know that I can tell that he already forgives you. Not that you deserve it, but…I think we both know why he asked to come with me today. He just wanted to see your face."
Quinn scowled.
"…Yep, that's it. That's the face."
He was a sadistic little guy, feeding off of her guilt. With a scoff, Quinn opened the door for her and her friend. "I don't really care, believe me- I was just worried about him, is all." She shrugged, turning her body so her board would fit through the door frame. "I didn't mean to break his little heart, but sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." She wouldn't tell the girl that she spent all night pondering her choices. She definitely wouldn't tell her that she lost sleep over the ordeal.
Mercedes' loud laugh told Quinn that she knew she was bullshitting her, and that she obviously didn't need to tell her. Mercedes knew. Mercedes always knew.
As soon as they entered the building, her friend was whisked away into an interview room, and Quinn had approximately seven minutes before her meeting, so she took a seat in the waiting area, next to Artie's chair, to see if she could test the waters with him. He was reading a magazine when she sat down, and she saw him clench his jaw before turning to her.
"You humiliated me." he said. Quinn was expecting a joke, a thing to make her feel secure in the idea that he didn't hate her anymore, but…that was all real. All too real. "You made me feel like a fool my first week in LA. And all because you were too chicken to stand up to your ex. If you're not strong enough to resist the guy's charm, then maybe you two should be together."
Quinn's jaw dropped. No, not what she expected at all. "It's more complicated than you think. You've known me for three days. Don't act like you know anything about me and who I can and cannot 'resist'." She grew angrier with every word, pissed beyond belief at the guy who thought he knew her better than she knew herself. But…she supposed he was right. Quinn was a strong woman, yes, but she and Puck had this undeniable chemistry that she knew was bound to draw her back into that toxic relationship in a heartbeat. The bad about him outweighed the good profusely, but Quinn found herself really attached to the good- The way his cologne smelled, his crooked smile, his eyes…Often, she lied awake at night rethinking their relationship, and what went wrong. She had planned her very first Hollywood party, and Puck was the pool boy of the hotel. They hit it off right away, and while he hated everyone, Quinn found a certain sort of pride in the idea that he liked her above all of that. She completely ignored her mother's only advice about love to her- "Judge him not only on how he treats you, but on how he treats other people." And to be honest, to everyone who wasn't Quinn or Santana, Puck was a huge dick. And when he cheated on her with Rachel, she couldn't believe that she actually wasn't as important to him as she'd thought.
But something about their relationship was nice and familiar. He was the first and only guy she'd been with at the start of her career, and it held good memories. And Quinn often hated herself for looking back on those memories so fondly.
"I actually think you're kind of a nutcase, so…" Artie side-eyed her, and began to turn his attention back to his magazine, but something in her caught his eye, and he hesitantly turned back to meet her gaze. "You are. That wasn't an exaggeration. But…I just want to know…You seem so against finding love at all. Why is that?" His gaze softened, and Quinn bit back her words. She wasn't going to tell a guy who was virtually a stranger that she'd gone down that road before, and hated what it made her become. She was possessive, way too passionate, way too involved. Surely, a relationship now would screw her entire career over.
She slid her tongue across her bottom lip and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "If I want to be taken seriously as a professional woman in this town," Quinn began, ",I can't do it attached to the hip of a man. I'm not an appendage."
"It sounds to me like you've just been with the kind of guys who make you into an appendage." Artie offered her a small shrug. Quinn was about to interject, but the ringer of Artie's phone went off. He searched his khakis for his phone before finally pulling it out and wheeling into a quieter corner of the room.
And so then, Quinn was alone with four minutes to spare. She pondered what Artie had said about her being a nutcase- It should have offended her, but it surprisingly wasn't the first time. Santana called her nuts on a daily basis. Speak of the devil, Quinn saw the girl out of the corner of her eye, sauntering over, red lips moving animatedly as she spoke to Noah Puckerman.
Quinn tried all she could to avert her eyes, but somehow the two found her anyhow.
"Sitting in the guest section, Fabray? Please. You're not that special." Santana snarked. Quinn rolled her eyes with a smile.
"I was talking to someone," she defended.
"Her boyfriend." Puck chimed in, tilting his mohawked head at Artie, who was seemingly having a pretty heated phone discussion in the corner. Quinn didn't want to be curious, but she wondered who he was talking to. But then she realized that Puck had just brought up the debacle, and that it was probably time to set this straight. Before she could, Puck took the seat next to hers and put his arm around her shoulders, which sent a disgusted chill down Quinn's spine. Ugh. She really felt guilty if she was going to risk having to deal with his come-ons again. "Looked a lot like an argument. Cause I know Q when she's mad, believe me. Trouble in paradise?" he raised an eyebrow.
Santana just stood next to him, brows furrowed, confused by the entire conversation. Quinn sucked in a breath and turned to look Puck in the eye. "Look, Puck…" she began.
"Lovers' quarrel? Full-fledged fight? Ooh, don't tell me, Q. Did he dump your ass?"
Quinn clenched her teeth, fighting with herself against the familiar smell of his cologne. She had loved that smell before, and still loved it, but it brought back too many memories. "Look, Puck…" she said again, with more force, but couldn't find the words to continue.
"Oh, he did?" Puck scoffed, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two made it up to make me jealous." She could tell he didn't really believe his words, and he was genuinely just being self-absorbed, but the fact that he said it at all made Quinn's heart pound. How pathetic was this going to make her look? He would be so freaking amused because he knew that he had her by the ear even when she hated him. But, like it or not, Quinn had to tell him. Time to come clean.
"Well, actually…"
"Actually, babe," said Artie's voice from a few feet away. He'd rolled out of the corner and was heading toward them. ",I was being an ass and I'm sorry." Once he got to them, he took Quinn's hand in his and kissed the back of it. This only sent her heart beating even faster, wondering what the hell was going on. She couldn't let him do this- She couldn't let this kid save her ass after she totally kicked him in his the day prior.
"No, Artie, I've got this." She shook her head, and looked him in the eye, saying a sort of 'thanks but no thanks'.
"And I've got you. And, if you give me another chance, I promise I'll never be that terrible again." His expression was forceful now. His blue eyes peered into hers, indicating that he had something to tell her. Quinn looked around at Puck's shocked face, and Santana's intrigued one, and couldn't help but smirk.
She tilted her head and shrugged, putting on the best show she could. "I'm still incredibly angry, but I guess you'll just have to make it up to me."
Artie gave a small smile, and looked around. "Is there anywhere we can talk in private? Er- do you have time?"
Quinn glanced at her watch. Shit. Her meeting would be starting in like, one minute, and she had yet to find out why this kid had such a sudden change of heart. Santana's voice chimed in as she looked at a glowing iPhone screen with interest.
"Lucky you, one of the big dogs just texted me, and she'll be running fifteen minutes late. Knock yourselves out- There's a staff break room down the hall."
As Santana and Puck walked away, the Latina turned and gave Quinn a look of utter approval, as well as some obscene hand gestures. Artie nearly bolted down the hall, and Quinn was quick to follow in line. Of course, she had to thank him for saving her ass again, but he also had some serious explaining to do.
"Um, wow, change of heart much?" she called behind him once they entered the room. Artie turned to her, with palms touching before him in a bit of a praying stance. He rested his mouth on his thumbs, eyes closed, as he thought carefully of what to say. Quinn crossed her arms, jutted a hip, and couldn't help but figure that this had to be good.
"Okay, I'ma be straight up and honest with you." He began, opening his eyes, "I need you."
Quinn knew he didn't mean it the way it sounded, but decided to play it up. "Wow, Artie, this is so sudden…" she teased.
"Wow, you're slaying me with your humor." He snarked. "I just got off the phone with my mom. Mind you, yes, I'm twenty-five years old, and yes, I can make my own decisions, but that's my mom. And, well, she doesn't particularly like me being so far away, especially if I'm going to be dealing with Hollywood and the pressures of fame and…I mean, well, she has a right to. I'm fine as hell, yo. But anyways, she was on my case about coming here with 'Cedes, and she was actually kind of expecting me to be home today, but I told her that I plan to stay. And, well…she gave me a hella hard time and…and…"
With a raised eyebrow, Quinn clued him to go on.
"And I told her that I have another reason to stay." He put on an expectant expression. Quinn felt that she should know what he meant by this, but didn't, so she raised her eyebrows even further. "…I told her…That I'm in love."
She was catching on, now, but really just wanted to hear him say it out loud.
"With a beautiful woman named Quinn Fabray and I….", this last part came in a mutter, "…kinda sorta used your picture."
Dropped jaw, Quinn threw her head back and her arms in front of her. This was just too priceless. "This is gold. I am loving every moment of this right now." She didn't know if she should have found this so amusing, but her ear-to-ear grin didn't lie. Artie totally berated her for this, and now he was stealing her shtick. "Oh, and I'm the nutcase, right? I guess that makes you…a hypocrite."
Artie rolled his eyes. "I get it, okay? I understand now. Everything makes sense. Happy?"
"Ecstatic." She said, her words dripping sarcasm. "What I'm most excited about, though, is the part where I get to make you feel like crap for a day, make you pace around your living room biting your nails, make you stay up all night, and then make you open doors for me."
He cocked a brow. "You stayed up all night?"
"Beyond the point." Quinn redirected the conversation, "So what? What does this all mean is what I'd like to know."
Sucking his teeth – his really nice, white teeth- Artie gave a shrug. "It means that I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Just until my parents leave me alone and your ex does the same."
Quinn weighed her options. The problem was that she'd already decided that what she did was wrong, and now it felt doubly wrong. "I'm not about to be your imaginary girlfriend." She shook her head, crossing her arms once more. "I have somehow managed to maintain my dignity."
"Look. It's a win/win. I get to stay in LA, you get to plan this party around your ex, and we both get to do what we love with no hassle." Artie raised his arms in a 'come on' gesture. "I'm sorry for being so harsh on you last night and this morning. I didn't know how it felt until I was in your shoes."
Quinn looked him in the eye. He really wanted this. When she'd moved to LA, she was working with a BA in Business and $5000 to her name. Her mom would call daily, worried sick, and Quinn hated that she felt like she had to worry. But…look at her now. She was a huge success. And she supposed that Artie could have her same story. After mulling it over, she decided he deserved it. Quinn pursed her lips and eyed him once more, making sure she could trust this boyish guy who was asking the almost-impossible of her.
"And…as I recall, last night you did say you – and I quote – 'owe me big time'." He shrugged. She was softening to him, and Artie could tell. Quinn rolled her eyes once more- She couldn't believe she was about to agree to this.
"What exactly entails being your imaginary girlfriend? You know, before I sign the paperwork." She teased.
Artie gave a soft chuckle. "A few romantic selfies, maybe a Skype call with the parentals or two. And once you and I are both where we need to be, we can stage a breakup, and no one has to know. Well…except Mercedes and Sam." He held out a gloved hand before peering up at Quinn. This was a business deal, she had to tell herself. A really weird business deal. "Deal?"
Quinn sucked in a breath. She held out her hand, which slowly but surely made its way to finally connect with the boy's. Their firm grips fought for dominance of the handshake, and Artie admittedly won, by her standards. "Deal."
