I'm back. It's been a while, and I hope everyone is doing good. Things have certainly been different, but, by request, I've decided to go on with this story. Enjoy!
His eyes opened to the bright, bright light of the hanging chandelier above his head.
What the hell happened?
There was a prominent ache in his head, the cause of which he couldn't quite put a pin on. He began to sit up on whatever surface it was that he was lying on and felt the pain increase as he shut his eyes and brought a hand to his head, feeling the major protrusion right above his eye.
He looked to his right, finding a large black couch with a brown bag on it, and again began questioning his surroundings. His face scrunched at the throbbing pain as he returned to his back, glancing slightly to his left, where he spotted a tiny brunette standing talking to a police officer. She nodded her head abruptly, quickly looking down at her feet. The officer took down a few notes, turning to face another gentleman in a suit, who began talking to him. The brunette walked away, picked up her purse from the couch, and prepared to turn out the door when she glanced at him.
Her eyes widened as she walked towards him. He sat up suddenly, in an attempt to meet her, but the pain returned to his head as he let out a quiet moan, immediately closing his eyes.
"Yeah, I wouldn't sit up yet," she urged him as she sat beside his body, bringing a hand up to his face. "Damn, that is quite a mark."
The events of the night hadn't quite caught up to him, and he surveyed his surroundings, trying to take it in. That was when the police officer and the man in the suit came up to him, glancing over his face.
"Mr. Hudson, are you alright?" the suited man asked.
He glanced from the brunette to the man in the suit to the officer, when the punch suddenly came back to him. Hard. Just like the first one had, and he brought a hand up to the giant bruise he felt over his eye.
"Mr. Hudson, would you be open to answering some questions about the events of this evening?" the officer asked.
He looked to the brunette sitting beside him, staring back into his own eyes.
"Um, sure. Sure, I guess."
"Had you been drinking prior to the incident?"
His head made him feel as though he had had a few drinks and was suffering from a major hangover, but he could have sworn there was no alcohol involved.
He looked back at the officer, and as he began to open his mouth to answer, his mouth suddenly became dry, any chance of answering, scampering away.
"I'm sorry officers, I don't believe Mr. Hudson is up for answering any questions at the moment," the brunette answered, ushering the officer away.
"Alright, ma'am," he nodded a head at the woman, collected his things and turned to the man in the suit, "please contact us when Mr. Hudson is up for answering a few questions, Mr. Hummel."
"Of course, officer, thank you for stopping by."
The officer exited, leaving him with the woman and a Mr. Hummel.
He blinked rigorously, as his eyes attempted to focus on the chandelier above his head.
"Do you think he can hear us?" the man whispered.
The woman snapped a finger over his eyes, immediately causing Finn to snap his eyes open.
"I guess so…" she offered back to the man.
"Mr. Hudson? Would you be more comfortable heading up to your room to rest?" the suited man asked, standing over his head.
Finn nodded his head, attempting to sit up as he held up his body, weakly.
"Miss Berry and I would be more than happy to assist you up to your suite," he offered.
He turned to move up off the table, Rachel and Kurt instantly rushing to his side. He moved an arm around each of them, as they led him out of the room, exiting out a door and ending up in the main hall of the hotel.
They passed the concierge desk, towards the elevators, and entered the nearest one.
"Floor?" the elevator attendant asked.
"Penthouse, please," Kurt requested.
Rachel glanced at the barely conscious Finn, leaning on her, before turning to the attendant.
"Yes, penthouse, please," she smirked.
His eyes opened once again, adjusting the dimmer lights around him. His headache was significantly less prominent than earlier that day. Or night. He wasn't exactly sure what time it was. He rolled to his side, finding the digital clock beside the large, spacious bed, as it read 4:16pm.
Damn.
Had he seriously slept all day? He couldn't remember the last time he had slept that long. Or slept for more than 6 hours, actually.
"…no he's been out all afternoon," a voice rang out from somewhere in the spacious suite, "well, I couldn't leave him here, in his state. He barely knows his own name."
Santana's crude comments rang out from the other side of the line as Rachel sat quaintly on the plush couch on the opposite side of the suite.
"Well, while he's asleep, take his goods. It's not like he knows your name or where you're from."
Rachel stayed silent on her end, as she considered Santana's vulgar idea.
"Rach…you didn't tell him your name, did you?"
Her silence gave Santana just the answer she had suspected.
"Only my first, 'Tana, but because of the whole," she lowered her voice, "incident, the cops got my last name."
"How did Brody even get involved in that whole ordeal? That asshole has been on your case for too long, and you're still calling him for help?"
"It's not like that. We-" she stopped herself, unaware of why exactly she had called Brody. They had been somewhat of an item at one point, but for various reasons, it had ended. They stayed in touch as he had helped Santana and her 'friends' get their fix, but she had chosen not to associate with it. Santana had a big 'order' for a party one time, and Brody clearly hadn't forgotten her inability to pay him back, making Rachel, by association, responsible, somehow, to reimburse him. "We just had a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding that involves the cops doesn't exactly sound like a misunderstanding to me, Rach."
"Look, I-" she started, but stopped as she stood up from the couch, finding the man whose suite she had been occupying staring back at her from across the living room. "I'll talk to you later, 'Tana. Bye." She hung up the phone, placing the telephone back gently on the table next to the couch.
"Well, look who's up," she smirked, walking towards the large man, in his loosened suit, his tie hanging off his neck, and jacket neatly folded over his arm.
"If that's another one of your friends coming to sock me, please don't send him up yet," he retorted, walking down the two steps into the living room, placing his jacket over the table in the center.
She opened her mouth to respond with a witty comeback, but was cut-off by the sharp ring of the phone she had recently put down. She looked down at the phone, then back at him, finding him looking back at her.
"Are you taking all my calls, or shall I answer this one?" he teased, already moving towards the ringing telephone.
"Good mor- evening, Finn Hudson speaking," Finn answered.
Rachel shifted awkwardly on her feet, as she sat back down on the nearby couch.
"John, I really apologize, I was in a bit of a mix up last night, and I'm not exactly prepared to go out tonight…Perhaps tomorrow, if you're available?" Finn offered over the phone, sneaking a peak at Rachel from the corner of his eye. "Oh no, no worries, Friday afternoon would work just the same. Six o'clock, Sardi's? Excellent, sir. I'll see you, then." He hung up the phone, turning to Rachel, where he simply put his hands in his pockets.
She looked up at him, smiling, unsure exactly of what to do.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Finn excused himself, reaching into his back pocket to find his wallet. Opening his wallet, he fished out some cash, prepared to hand it to Rachel.
She stared blankly at the money before her.
"This-this is what you were expecting, wasn't it?" he asked, rather confused.
"Oh," she blushed, pushing the money back towards him, "no, no, I couldn't, I was just here to make sure you were okay. I mean, I do feel partially responsible for what happened last night."
"But, we, um, we didn't-" he was unsure how to put it, as he placed the wallet back in his pocket, "did we?"
"Oh no, no we didn't. You were, well, you were almost entirely passed out all afternoon."
"Well, you didn't have to stay, really. And I do believe I owe you for directions," he held out the fifty dollar bill towards her.
She felt torn, needing the money, but having caused this man enough trouble already, she turned him down once more, "No, no. That's alright. Let's say we're even, after what happened last night."
He looked at her, stunned by her honesty.
"Look, Rach-Rachel, that is your name, isn't it?" he hesitated. Seeing her nod in response, he continued, "If anything, I'd say I owe you. You didn't have to stay with me all afternoon. I do believe I'm alright, aside from this swollen eye, and a fuzzy recollection of whatever happened last night. I'd-" he paused, trying to gauge her reaction, "I'd like to offer you a drink, that is, if you're still up for it."
She thought over his offer. She had spent all day here, doing nothing, and she certainly felt obligated to get home, but she could definitely use a drink.
"Mr. Hudson, I-"
"Finn," he interrupted.
She paused, correcting herself. "Finn, I have to be getting back, but I supposed I could stay for one drink."
He smiled back at her, pleased with the response.
"Thank you. That's all I ask."
Thanks for reading :) As always, reviews are always appreciated and feel free to tweet me any suggestions dontstopbLEAvin Hope you enjoyed! Hope to be updating soon!