Thanks to everyone who had read and reviewed this fic. I must say, this is my first Glee fic that I've ever written and I feel proud that so many people like it and ship Tinn like I do. And now, onto the story.
You talk about me like you own me
Baby, that's not fair
I told you that I had somebody else
You did not care
And now you're trying to make me out
To be some kind of a square
You're talking on the telephone
You're telling all of your friends
One Week of Danger – The Virgins
I had never felt so uncomfortable in my life. The plane ride that Norma had booked for me was absolutely fine. I traveled business class so that I was able to finish up my story and email right to Barry. Usually, I would have handed it to him myself, but my next assignment had gotten in the way.
It had been a week since Rachel Berry came into my office with the proposition of a Glee club reunion and two weeks until the actual reunion was to take place. Was I still dreading it? Very much so. I hadn't been this nervous since my job interview for the New Yorker a couple of years back. I absolutely hated feeling this nervous.
Or this uncomfortable. The airplane didn't take me right to Lima, of course. Even if Lima's population was growing in volumes, the city wasn't big enough for an airport. Instead, I had to land in Dayton International Airport in Dayton, Ohio—which was seventy five miles south of Lima. And here, I sat driving in my rental car—I must thank AAA when I get home—and listening to the radio.
The drive took more than an hour of my time, mostly because I drove the bare minimum on interstate 75. I supposed I had only been prolonging my fate. I knew I was going to have to arrive at my parents' house at a certain time if I wanted food—the grocery store wasn't going to be open forever.
The exit ramp crept up on me quickly and I pulled in, already hit with the familiarity of the drive. The roads were still exactly the same, business came and gone, but there was still that sameness that pulled a smile right to my lips. I hadn't realized it while I was away but I knew in my heart that this was home. There wasn't denying that fact, but it was also the past. One should always look towards the future no matter how great the past might have seemed.
My parents' house was the same as I had left it when I went off to college. The old two stories Victorian had been built in one of the nicer neighborhoods of Lima. My parents pay to have the upkeep on the house. The grass was cut and the leaves were cleared. I pulled into the driveway and parked, right in front of the garage. The code to the garage was easy enough to remember and I gained access and entry quickly. The only thing left to do was unpack.
My parents were never big decorators. All that was inside the house had been the necessities, which was never questioned at my house. The only thing that my mother did do was paint the walls of the house.
I chose to sleep in my childhood bedroom—pink walls and all. My mother refused to let me repaint when I came into my own person and redecorate to my needs. Bless her. I literally dropped my suitcase and then jumped onto my bed, not caring about unpacking at the moment. The bed was as comfortable as I remembered it to be. I often thought about taking it to my apartment in New York, but the thought of driving that far put me off.
I could have laid in bed all day if my stomach hadn't ended up growling. I groaned as I got up. The bed had been a blessing to my aching muscles and my weary mind. I could have hidden in it for the whole time and made up some story about the reunion, but Rachel would have done something and I'd be out of a job. Damn manipulation to its core.
I decided to stop at a restaurant first before going grocery shopping. Everyone knows that shopping on an empty stomach wasn't a good thing to do. Everyone who did it always ended up with more stuff than they could handle. I figured I was going to be on the go most of the time, so only the essentials would be needed—but even then that wouldn't have stopped me from buying three cakes if I wanted. I had no self control when it came to sweets. It was my ultimate downfall—though I didn't mind death by chocolate.
I stopped at what looked like a new Chinese restaurant in my vicinity. I hadn't remembered the building being here before, but then again, I haven't been in this town in eight years. What could the harm do? The inside of the Hunan Palace was very elaborate—much like the Chinese restaurants in Chinatown. I let out a small laugh before shaking my head. It was like I had a little piece of New York with me.
"Table for one—oh wait, just let me sit at the Sushi bar then", I spoke to the hostess before being shown through the restaurant. It was decorated in traditional red and gold for good luck, but it still had touches of Lima culture splattered about. There was a huge display of Lima sports in one corner of the restaurant. Apparently, it was a big supporter of McKinley High. A piece of my brain had told me that I should have paid special attention to such a display and connect the dots, but the Sushi bar was right there in my view. Sweets and Sushi were my downfall. There was no stopping me now, really.
When I sat down, I was handed my menu and the bartender came over for my drink. I've never been one for alcohol—except for the occasional wine with dinner—so water my drink of choice. The menu was common, much like the other Chinese restaurants that I've been to, but it was busier than most of the others. My curiosity got the best of me when I heard my neighbors talking.
"The owner makes the best sushi. He's so fun about it", a woman said in adoration.
"Such a wonderful dancer too."
Wait, hold up. Wonderful dancer? Has fun with what he does? There could only be one person that fit that description. I craned my neck down the bar to catch a glimpse of what the ladies were talking about. The chef was dancing about, putting on a show while rolling sushi rolls. I kind of knew he looked familiar; it was on the tip of my tongue. It wasn't until he did a slide that I realized who he was.
"Out of all of the restaurants in Lima, I had to walk into his", I said mainly to myself. He turned his head towards me and I hid my face. The menu hid it beautifully, I might add. I couldn't see him and I knew because of that he couldn't see me. I was quite proud of myself for my plan.
However, I didn't count on him walking over and asking for my order. "Excuse me, Miss", the voice that belonged to Mike Chang asked me. "Are you ready to order?"
Reluctantly, I pulled down the menu and licked at my lips. "How about I order an order of the chicken feet salad and a tempura roll?" It didn't take long for Mike to recognize me.
"Tina? Tina Cohen-Chang, is that you?" He was the same old Mike Chang—fun, happy-go-lucky, and very fluid in his motions. I went to nod, standing up to gather a better glimpse of him, but I was too late. He already moved behind the counter to beside me, enveloping me in a hug. I returned it with an awkward pat on his back.
"Yeah, it's me", I replied to him, pulling away from his hug to be at arm's length. I mean, this was the guy that broke my heart when he said I wasn't what he wanted. Of course, I wasn't going to be too grabby—even when I spied the wedding band on his finger. Shouldn't chefs really take off their jewelry when they were cooking? "How are you", I asked of him, sitting back down onto my seat.
"I'm great. I own this place, can't you believe it? My wife's over there", he ranted and pointed to the hostess who waved back. Oh, well what did you know?
"Nice", I replied when I got a good look at the both of them. She really was a good and typical Asian wife. That was probably the reason why he broke up with me in the first place. I wasn't "Asian" enough for him. I didn't always resent my roots—I just liked my mother's roots better than my father's. "Congratulations must be in order", I said formally, bringing out my writer voice for such an occasion.
"Yeah", he went onto say. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I was already so over him and in love with my job, but it was the lookdown that got me. I could feel he was silently judging me and looking over my clothes. I flew in my work clothes. "What are you doing here?"
"Trying to grab something to eat before I go grocery shopping", I responded with the first thing I could think off—and it ended up being rather cheeky. It got a smile out of the both of us and the tension was soon released for a while. "I'm here for the reunion", I further explained. "And to write about Glee clubs."
A knowing smile dashed across Mike's lips. I grew scared. It didn't make me feel any better to know that he knew something when I didn't. It was very unnerving.
"I'm helping the new Glee director with choreography", he spoke. Oh, there it was. "Well, my wife and I are. I don't know when though. Will you be there?"
Of course I was. I had called up the principal of McKinley High days ago to get approval for observing the Glee club. I was going to start Monday, but I wasn't going to tell Mike that. "Yeah, I might be", I said the first thing in my head. Way to go, Tina.
"Cool", he told me before patting my shoulder. And then as if by magic, my food came to me quick. I looked to Mike and he pointed to another chef. "Have a good time in Lima, Tina. See if you can stick around", he spoke, flashing a smile in my direction and then went over to his wife to kiss her once.
Damn my life.
After I ate, I paid the bill and said my polite goodbyes to Michael and his wife. I didn't want to stay longer than I was welcome—or rather, I was so uncomfortable that I booked it like Vin Diesel did in the Fast and the Furious movies. I was never one for confrontation and here I was, suddenly getting it from every angle of penetration. Was it karma? Was it just simply my time to start getting confrontation?
If only I had Santana's attitude. God, I hope I didn't curse myself.
I went right around the block to the nearest grocery store. It was right since I wanted to just go back home and hide until Monday, but I realized I'd need food if that was to happen. The grocery store was like any other, only this was apparently family owned.
I quickly went to grab the drinks that I loved—various sodas and orange juice and made my way to the snacks. I needed pretzels. They were my go to snack—besides cake and sushi—when I wanted some. I felt like cow paddy when I grabbed three bags, but then it wouldn't have mattered. It wasn't like I was going to meet anyone else here, right? Unless Mike comes in for supplies, but I doubt that was to happen. He had his perfect wife that knew the ins and outs of being Asian.
"Oh god", I said to myself before grabbing my cart and booked it to the wine aisle. I was not going to be spiteful for Mike Chang. I rarely drank, but when I did it was usually wine. My signature wine had to be Moscato. It was slight, white, and had a fruity taste towards it.
I ended up with one bottle in my cart. I didn't give a damn.
I wheeled out my sparse cart out of the one cash register in the store and started stacking my drinks onto the counter. However, the woman behind it was so engrossed in her radio and I didn't think she appeared to notice that I was ready to pay.
"Hello", I began to say, but she put out a hand to stop me. "Not now", she replied with such sass. Honestly, she'd lose customers this way if she spoke to everyone with that tone. "My man's on the radio."
Oh, lord forbid if I talk during her man's radio show.
"Shout out to my lovely wife. I'm on my way home after this song. It's for you, baby. And this is DJ Artie Abrams, signing off. See you all tomorrow. Peace."
I stopped what I was thinking after I heard that. It couldn't have been, could it? There had to be more than one Artie Abrams in all of Lima, Ohio. And that was when I turned my head to get a good look at the woman behind the counter, and sure enough, it was exactly who I thought it was.
"Mercedes", I tentatively asked, hoping I was wrong. But luck wasn't on my side. I was absolutely right in my guess.
"Tina", she asked when she turned away from her radio, doing the same double take that Rachel and Mike had done earlier. I nodded to tell her I was who I was. The same wide smile grew on her lips as did the others. Why did they have to be so damn happy to see me?
"How are you", she asked, still in her spot. I was thankful for the absence of the hug that usually came after the double take. It was interesting enough that I had come to expect it, really.
"I'm fine", I answered. "So you and Artie, huh?" I tried making small talk while she rang up my items. I was still surprised to do anything. Thank god both of my ex boyfriends were married, though. I didn't know what I would have done had they weren't.
"Our wedding anniversary would be next month. Four years strong", she offered, stopping to look at me. I squirmed under her gaze. "What about you? You coming to the runion or what? Do I really have to take down Rachel while I'm this big by myself?" I nodded my answer; it was already too awkward enough to speak.
"I'm pregnant", she explained to me. She probably mistook my silence for confusion. I smiled to show her it was alright.
"Congratulations. You and Artie must be so happy", I told her and she went on and on about how blessed they were. I turned her out—not because I didn't like her, but because it was just so..so awkward to hear about your ex boyfriend's baby with one of your former friends.
It wasn't until she grabbed to check out the bottle of Moscato that I held out a hand to stop her. "Hey, you think you can ring two more bottles of that for me while I go grab them?"
If I was going into oblivion, might as well be drunk and have fun, right?
Please read and review.