DISCLAIMER: Look on first chapter. There are scenes transcribed from "GLEE" and I give them all credit for those parts. And Drop Dead Diva is awesome. :)
I apologize for the long delay. I've been crazy busy lately. And this is the first part of FRIDAY in New York. There were two more parts that I wanted to post on here, but I don't have time to write them right now. If I'm lucky-I'll be able to get the rest up tonight, but I can't promise anything. But as a spoiler: the next part will have JLynn and Sam/Finn friendship! I hope you enjoy the chapter.
May 12, 2011 (Friday)
The InterContinental Hotel
New York City, New York
11:26AM
Somehow, Mercedes found herself alone in the girls' hotel room with Quinn. Lauren had been up and out on the town with Puck by nine in the morning, and Tina and Mike had skedaddled into the beyond by ten.
Santana and Brittany were with the others in the boys' room. Quinn had been in the bathroom when they departed twenty minutes ago, and Mercedes had plopped down in the armchair to read.
That was how Quinn found her almost ten minutes later.
Mercedes was getting really into her murder mystery novel. She was pretty sure that Ryan was the killer, but it could also be Brad. She was trying to puzzle it out in her head when the sound of footsteps caught her attention.
"Mercy?" Quinn asked softly and Mercedes looked up from her book. The blonde looked nervous as she stood in front of her. But then again, Quinn had been acting weird all year long. Mercedes still wasn't quite sure what she thought of the situation, but something fishy was definitely going on.
"Are you busy?" she questioned and Mercedes' eyebrows rose in curiosity. Quinn's green-eyed gaze was avoiding looking directly at her. And her hands were wringing together.
"No," Mercedes replied, "What's up?"
"Would you like to go get lunch with me, then?" Quinn asked, "I think it's time we talked."
It took everything within her to keep her jaw from dropping. Quinn was finally ready?
Wait, Quinn was finally ready! That was a good thing.
But it also scared Mercedes, because the blonde looked incredibly tired and pale and extremely stressed. Maybe talking to someone wasn't just a choice—but it had become a necessity.
"Of course," Mercedes agreed as she shut her book with a slight snap.
Quinn swallowed hard before she gave a terse nod and turned on her heel. For a moment, Mercedes stared after her, but then she sat her book down on the desk and slipped on her black flats before she stood and followed Quinn out of the door of the hotel room and into the hallway.
May 12, 2011 (Friday)
Camden's Cafe
New York City, New York
11:43AM
Sitting in an isolated booth across from an exhausted Quinn Fabray was not a new experience for Mercedes, but sitting across from an utterly defeated Quinn Fabray definitely was.
Even when pregnant, Quinn had fire. She wouldn't take shit from anyone and that was one of the things that Mercedes both loved and hated about her friend.
But this Quinn looked like she'd lost her spirit and Mercedes didn't like it.
She didn't like it at all.
"I love your hair," Mercedes said and Quinn gave her a tired smile as she self-consciously ran her fingers through her short blonde locks. "It looks amazing on you, Quinn."
"You think so?" Quinn asked, "I'm not sure about it just yet, but it's different and I like that."
The conversation sort of died after that, and they went through ordering their food in an awkward manner. It was that—more than anything—that made Mercedes realize just how far apart they had grown.
Before this year, they'd never had any awkward silences.
Quinn had always been a chatterbox, but only when she felt completely comfortable with someone. And that someone had been Mercedes.
It made her heart hurt to realize that she and her soul-sister weren't on the same page. And that pain drove Mercedes into action.
"Quinn," she said and the blonde looked up from where she was idly twirling her spaghetti noodles around her fork. "You brought me here so we could talk. I'm a little confused as to what I'm doing here if you're not going to say anything."
Shock bloomed in Quinn's green eyes and Mercedes felt a twinge of guilt, but it was true. There were other things she could be doing besides getting ignored by her friend—like writing music, or making out with Sam, or cuddling with Sam—who she hadn't seen all day.
He'd sent her a text this morning—simply saying, "Good morning, beautiful!"—and it had put the biggest grin on her face. It was like an instant shot of caffeine to know that last night hadn't been a dream. Sam Evans was really her boyfriend!
A smile was threatening to break across Mercedes' face, but Quinn speaking tore her from her thoughts. "You're right," she whispered as she set her fork down on her plate. "It's a long story, Mercy."
"We've got nothing but time, girlie," Mercedes replied with an encouraging smile on her face.
"I don't even know where to begin," Quinn admitted—her voice low and her eyes on the abandoned plate of spaghetti in front of her. "There's just so much and one thing leads to another—and I—I'm terrified that I'm going to spill all this to you and you'll be disgusted with me."
Mercedes couldn't control the horrified expression that momentarily spread across her face. She would never just up and leave someone for being honest with her.
Quinn should know that—she had to know that.
"Girlie," Mercedes spoke, "We've been through a lot—both together and apart. I'm not going to let anything put our friendship on hold ever again." She reached across the table and grabbed Quinn's hand. The blonde looked on the verge of tears, and she hadn't even started talking yet. Mercedes finally realized that this was probably going to be worse than she'd first thought. "I am not going to lose you this time, Quinn."
Quinn gave her a watery smile of gratitude as she squeezed Mercedes' hand.
"Okay," she replied shakily. Mercedes didn't say anything as she watched Quinn struggle to regain her composure. "After Regionals—everything was fine. Beth was a beautiful and healthy baby, but I felt like something was missing, you know."
Quinn bit her lip and Mercedes stroked the back of the girl's hand with her thumb hoping to give her some form of comfort. "I asked the doctors about it while I was still in the hospital, and they said that it was normal to feel a degree of loss after a baby is born," Quinn said, "but I didn't feel right anymore. I wanted to know how Beth was—hell, where she was would've been fine, but Shelby had adopted her right away and she moved. I was anxious all the time and I couldn't stop crying—the doctors said it was the leftover hormones from my pregnancy."
The shame on Quinn's face broke Mercedes' heart. She looked so guilty and saddened that she wanted to wrap her friend into a hug, but she could tell that this wasn't the right time.
"I stayed that way for a week—the anxiety, the constant crying—my mom called it the baby blues and she didn't leave my side. When they released me from the hospital and I went home—I felt a lot better. Things were going well for a couple of weeks—until I looked at my body in a mirror." Quinn's voice cracked. "I had been avoiding it since I went home. I didn't want to see what pregnancy had done to me."
"It felt like a house had sat on my chest," she told Mercedes, "I hated what I saw. I was nothing but a failure and a slut and a horrible person. Who gives their child away? It served me right." Quinn's fingers were gripping Mercedes' hand and the pain blossoming in her green eyes was enough to make Mercedes' stomach churn unpleasantly.
Hearing that Quinn had thought of herself that way for even a moment was enough to make Mercedes raging mad. Her friend was beautiful, and God, she wished she could say something to her to make her believe it.
"I wanted to take everything back," Quinn said, "I wanted my body, my virginity, but I really wanted my baby. I didn't want Shelby to have her. She belonged with me—I'm her mother. And then I got depressed. I wasn't happy. I didn't like doing anything anymore. I felt worthless. I was hardly ever hungry. I obsessed over my body and every imperfection I could find. I stayed that way for almost two months, before my mom dragged me into the clinic to see a doctor. She was scared that it was something far more serious. And she was right."
The tears brimming Quinn's eyes slipped down her cheeks. "They diagnosed me with postpartum depression."
Mercedes—as much as she wished she knew everything—had no idea what that was. She'd briefly heard it mentioned before but it had never been that important to her. Seeing how it was affecting Quinn had her wishing that she knew more. She felt so useless at the moment, but from what she was listening to—that was the last thing Quinn needed to hear.
"Everything was complicated, and knowing that I had a mental disorder—that just made everything worse," Quinn whispered, "I was placed in therapy for the remainder of the summer and I was all over the emotional landscape. I switched between worrying about Beth and how she was and if she'd ever want to know me—and then hating her. She made me crazy—it was all her fault that I was no longer attractive or that I was a mother at fifteen. It was all her fault because I wouldn't have had postpartum depression if she'd never existed. Beth made me a freak."
The horror was threatening Mercedes' composure. She stared at her friend, aghast.
How could Quinn have thought those things and never noticed something was wrong? How did someone deal with this? And looking at Quinn, Mercedes could tell she was regretful. The girl looked tormented at the revelation of her own thoughts. Compassion flared inside Mercedes' heart.
"On and on it went," Quinn admitted shamefully, "Everything was spiraling out of control—my bad days outnumbered my good days and my mom was doing all that she could. Nothing worked—so I took matters into my own hands. I worked out every day—I just knew that if I got back to where I was sophomore year then everything would be just fine."
"So I worked out like crazy and when school started—I re-auditioned for the cheerios. Seeing myself in that uniform—made me hate myself all the more, but I would do this so all this madness could stop. It didn't work. I got my position back. I was top bitch again, but I still felt worthless and ugly. Then Sam came along."
Mercedes' heart froze in her chest. She knew that Sam was hers, but she also knew that he and Quinn had been serious at one point. She didn't know if that fear would ever completely go away.
"I figured that it was perfect," Quinn said with a bitter laugh, "He responded to my teasing and he made me feel a momentary rush of attractiveness, but no matter how much I teased him sexually and no matter how wonderful it felt when he called me beautiful—it wasn't enough to make me feel good about myself."
Hearing this was painful for Mercedes. She saw how much Quinn had meant to Sam, and even though she could understand why Quinn had treated him the way she had—it didn't stop her from being pissed off about it.
"Then the whole Finn thing happened and that added a whole new level to everything," Quinn told her, "To be wanted by one guy wasn't enough but maybe two would fix everything. Instead, it only added to the misery when Sam dumped me for Santana after he found out I was cheating and Finn was still mooning over Rachel."
"I was set back so far, and then prom came up and it was the only way," she said, "I had to have that crown. Having the title—it would prove that I was wrong about myself; that I was still beautiful and worthy of being loved—" The pain broke through Quinn's walls and she let out a soft sob that made Mercedes bite her lip in order to prevent herself from crying.
She reached out and grabbed Quinn's other hand in her own. Jesus, give her strength, but she had no idea what to do.
"And when the truth came out about Lucy—I just snapped," Quinn stated through her tears, "My mom took me back to the doctors and they said—good news, no more postpartum depression, but we believe that you have lapsed into a severe depression based on your mental evaluation. So I became severely depressed because of my postpartum depression. And then on prom night—Finn got into a fight with Jesse and I knew he was still in love with Rachel, but I thought that this once—someone would choose me over her."
Mercedes watched Quinn emotionally crumble in front of her eyes and she didn't know what to do. There wasn't anything she could do. How was someone supposed to approach this situation? Maybe she could've helped earlier, but there was nothing she could really do now—except be there for Quinn.
"Nothing has been the same since," Quinn said with a shaky inhale, "I've been taking meds off and on since the day after Prom and when Finn broke up with me—I couldn't handle it alone anymore. I needed someone to just love me so badly that day, and you—"
When Quinn's teary green eyes met Mercedes' anguished brown ones—Mercedes felt her heart swell. "You did that for me. You didn't push and you didn't turn me away. I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for that. If you hadn't taken me in that night—there's a good chance that I wouldn't be alive right now."
And Mercedes shattered. For a moment, Mercedes pictured a world without Quinn Fabray and she couldn't see anything. The pit of her stomach fell to her toes and the emptiness she felt rose like bile in her throat.
"Quinn," she asked—the tears already making their way down her cheeks. Quinn was suicidal? Her soul-sister was so depressed that she was ready to take her own life? How could she have missed this? Mercedes thanked God that she had let Quinn into her home with open arms.
"You saved my life," Quinn said—her fingers entangled with Mercedes'. "More than once—you saved me."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Mercedes whispered, her voice broken. The things her heart was doing shouldn't be possible. It felt like it was being broken and healed at the same time. "I love you! I've always loved you. We're sisters, girlie."
Quinn's lips trembled and Mercedes was fighting desperately to control her own emotions. Hearing about Sam and then hearing about why Quinn had behaved the way she did—it was tearing her apart. To know that she had been right there—she had been so close to Quinn and still had no idea what was going on in her life; it made her miserable.
"I was so scared, Mercy," Quinn replied, "I was terrified that if anyone knew what was going on in my head and my life that everyone would hate me more than they already did. And I was so ashamed of everything. Your opinion means so much to me that I started having panic attacks at the thought of telling you and having you leave me."
Mercedes could understand, but God it hurt to know that something like this had been kept from her. The silence between the two of them was only broken by the sound of Quinn's soft crying.
"I love you, Quinn," Mercedes said firmly. Quinn's green eyes stared at her and Mercedes continued, "You are my sister and you will always be my sister. Promise me—that you won't keep anything like this from me again."
Quinn nodded quickly—the tears falling quickly. "I love you too, Mercy."
"Have you been taking your meds lately?" Mercedes asked and Quinn slowly shook her head. "Why not?"
"I feel crazy," Quinn replied, "I don't want to feel like less of a person because of some stupid depression."
"It's not stupid!" Mercedes bit back, "And you are not crazy."
Quinn looked taken aback by the stringent tone in Mercedes' tone, but Mercedes didn't care.
She wasn't going to let her friend walk this road alone. She was going to learn everything she could about this whole thing and then she would figure out a way to help Quinn.
"You are not alone in this anymore," Mercedes whispered fiercely and the gratitude and love in Quinn's green eyes said everything that Mercedes needed to know.
May 12, 2011 (Friday)
The InterContinental Hotel
New York City, New York
2:43PM
When Mercedes and Quinn walked back into the hotel room—both of their faces had been cleaned of tears, but they still looked exhausted. It didn't help that they walked right into the middle of a loud argument between Rachel and Santana.
"You heard the man, Berry!" Santana yelled—her Spanish accent thicker than ever, "Why are you being so dumb?"
"We don't know if it's true or not, Satan—Santana!" Rachel corrected herself as soon as the murderous glint brightened Santana's eyes. Mercedes had to forcefully stop the amusement from crossing her face, but Santana's next words stopped her cold.
"Mr. Schue is leaving, Pinocchio!" she hissed, "So I suggest you get over yourself and take your pompous attitude elsewhere!" Rachel looked incredibly hurt, but Mercedes was stunned by what had been said about Mr. Schue.
Her jaw had to be on the floor. Quinn didn't seem to be doing any better as she stood there in shock. The argument continued between Rachel and Santana, but it was only when Santana raised her fist to swing at the shorter girl that Mercedes came back to her senses.
"What the hell is going on here?" she demanded and the harsh tone made Santana freeze mid-swing. Heads snapped in their direction and Mercedes narrowed her eyes. "Anyone want to fill me in on why you guys think Mr. Schue is leaving?"
She gazed at each of them in turn, but her eyes lingered on Sam the most. He shot her the most loving look she'd ever been on the receiving end of and it took everything in her to not rush into his arms and sob into his shoulder.
This couldn't be happening. Please let this be just one huge misunderstanding.
"The vocal adrenaline coach told us earlier today," Kurt interjected, "It's even announced online. We checked." Kurt looked like he couldn't decide between being mad or distraught. Either way, he looked like he was on the verge of tears. And Mercedes didn't like it.
"What if we're wrong, guys?" Mercedes asked. "The internet is not infallible, and Goolseby is our opponent's director! He could be trying to get us upset and distract us from the competition."
"That's two sources, Mercedes—"Santana tried to say, but Mercedes put her hand up in the air. She knew it was rude, but this was turning out to be a craptastic day and she didn't have the patience to deal with any unnecessary drama.
"You can't just take everything at face value!" Mercedes snapped, "Goolseby has no allegiance to us—he just wants to win. And there's like two websites that actually care about Broadway and I don't read either of them—so you know what—I do not believe a word of this until we hear it from Mr. Schue."
Santana looked angry, but Rachel leapt into the conversation. "See! That's exactly what I was saying—"Mercedes ignored the full blown argument as she stalked over to the window. All she could hear was everyone yelling and fighting behind her until she felt a warm hand tug on her fingers.
Mercedes looked up and gave Sam a half-hearted smile. He shot her a look of concern. "Girlfriend," Sam whispered and the term had her mood brightening. She would never get used to being called that. "You look like you need a hug—and I promise to give you one as soon as we're out of no man's land."
"I would love that," she replied softly and Sam grinned as he squeezed her hand.
"Be strong, Nala," he said, before he let go and went to the other side of the room—plopping down on the floor next Artie, who was sitting silently in his wheelchair. Mercedes turned around and then whistled—really loudly.
"Everybody! Please, shut up!" she said and they all blinked at her. Sam was trying and failing to hide a grin. "Let's just wait until Mr. Schue gets back before we jump to conclusions."
Nobody seemed to know how to respond so the room got silent. Mercedes trudged over to the bed and sat down. They waited in complete silence for almost ten minutes when they heard the sound of a key card swiping through the reader. Soon enough, the door opened.
"Alright guys who's ready for some New York city pizza?" Mr. Schue said as he hobbled into the room—his arms full with a tower of pizza boxes. When everyone just stared at him solemnly, his eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"
"We heard," Quinn replied softly—her hands wringing together in her lap.
The confusion that stole across Mr. Schue's face was genuine as he asked, "About what?"
"About you leaving to be on Broadway," Mercedes stated.
Mr. Schue's momentarily stunned expression made Mercedes realize that the vocal adrenaline director hadn't been lying. The rush of tears that sprung to her eyes made her turn her head away from him. She caught Sam's worried eyes staring at her, but she looked over at Tina when her friend grabbed her hand.
Tina appeared just as heartbroken as Mercedes was. If there had been any other moment when she wished Sam was sitting right beside her—this was it. She loved her friend but Sam just calmed and reassured her like no other.
Mr. Schue sighed heavily as he placed the stack of pizza boxes onto the counter. "Look, I haven't made up by mind about anything."
"We get it," Kurt said—but his voice was a pitch higher than normal, "And we're happy for you." Mercedes didn't believe him for a second. She knew Kurt Hummel and how much fondness he had for Mr. Schue. And Mr. Schue looked incredibly skeptical as well.
"You deserve it. You've inspired us in so many ways and so, this is just another." Rachel told him-her voice was sad though.
"I don't understand," Mr. Schue replied, "Who told you guys?"
"Goolseby, "Tina answered and Mr. Schue's eyes flashed with outrage. Mercedes saw Mike's eyebrows shoot up at the teacher's reaction.
"You okay, Mr. Schue?" Mike asked slowly as if he was afraid of getting yelled at.
"I'm not going," the teacher declared—Mercedes turned to stare at him in disbelief. "I'm staying with you guys." She couldn't believe this. He was going to give up Broadway—his number one dream for his whole life—because of them? It didn't feel right.
Sure, she would've missed Mr. Schue, but it was only for the summer and she didn't feel like he had to stay with them for this. There had to be something else. "I had my moment on that stage—and it was glorious, but you and I have some unfinished business to take care of. And get out your notebooks! It's time to get to work."
When everyone just kind of sat there staring—Mr. Schue clapped his hands together loudly and said, "Come on; this is Nationals, people!" People started pulling notebooks from everywhere until Mr. Schue let out a laugh as Puck hugged him tightly.
Mercedes couldn't help but smile when Sam was the next to glomp onto the teacher. It turned into a huge group hug soon enough. And it was a great moment—Glee club had actually become a family.
May 12, 2011 (Friday)
The InterContinental Hotel
New York City, New York
5:47PM
A little bit over three hours later—they had the first song written and the music almost perfected. Everybody was in full work mode, but Mercedes needed a moment. There were so many things and so many emotions going on inside of her that she felt like she couldn't breathe.
She stood up abruptly, causing Tina and Quinn to look at her. "I'm going to go get some ice," she said, "I'll be right back." Tina shrugged and Quinn nodded.
Mercedes let out a sigh of relief as she grabbed the empty ice bucket from the counter and made her way out of the door. When it closed behind her—she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. For a couple of minutes—she just stood there with her head tilted back against the wall.
So much had happened today. She was happy that she and Quinn were close again, and she didn't feel right about keeping her and Sam a secret from her soul-sister, but hadn't she said last night that she wanted this for them?
Life was such a pain in the ass sometimes. Mercedes was distracted from her thoughts as the hotel door opened again. She started walking briskly down the hall so she wouldn't blow her cover.
"Cede! Wait up!" When she heard Sam's voice from behind her—she froze mid-step. She turned around to see him jog lightly down the hall to meet her.
"Sam?" she asked bewildered, "What are you doing?"
He didn't say anything until he'd pulled her into a full embrace. "I told you I'd give you hug." And it felt wonderful. Sam's scent was amazing and he gave great hugs. It was exactly what she'd needed after a day like today.
He pulled back to look down at her. She met his green eyes for a moment, before he leaned over and kissed her sweetly on the lips. All the tension from the day just melted away as he moved his lips over hers. His kiss was so tender that she felt her hands drop onto his shoulders and pull him closer.
She couldn't resist playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck. He kissed her once—twice—more before he pulled away completely.
"This whole day has been hell in a hand basket," Mercedes breathed as Sam placed his hands on her waist. She watched his blond eyebrows furrow as he studied her in concern.
"I haven't heard that one in awhile," he replied and Mercedes let out a slight laugh. Sam's hands squeezed her waist gently. "What's wrong, Nala?"
"It's such a long story and it's honestly not my place to tell you," she answered and Sam nodded in understanding, "but I really do want to talk to you about it."
"Sweetheart, I get it," he responded and Mercedes turned into goo. No one had ever called her sweetheart in such an affectionate way before. God, she was so into this boy. "Besties before testes."
She couldn't help but laugh. "You watch Drop Dead Diva?"
"I might have seen a few episodes..." Sam admitted with a blush.
"You've watched all the seasons, haven't you?" she asked as she brushed strands of hair out of his eyes. She wanted those green orbs on her with nothing in the way—even though she did love his blond locks.
The red of Sam's cheeks said it all. Mercedes cracked up. "We'll have to watch the new episodes together sometime." Sam grinned in agreement.
Truth was—Quinn and Mercedes had watched that show every Sunday night. They both loved it! Her mother had even enjoyed it, but most of the time—it was just Quinn and Mercedes. It had been a bonding factor for them. Now, every time she watched the shows—it just wasn't the same.
"Thanks for cheering me up, Blondie," Mercedes told her boyfriend. Sam smiled.
"Thanks for letting me cheer you up, Nala," Sam replied. Mercedes rolled her eyes as she stepped out of the embrace.
"You should get back inside," she said, "They'll get suspicious if we're both gone for too long. Wait—how'd you get out here anyway?"
"I pretended like I had a phone call," Sam replied. She let out a huff of amusement.
Sam leaned over and gave her one last kiss before he turned to go back to the hotel room. She watched him disappear into the room with a grin on her face.
Even though her day hadn't been as wonderful as yesterday—she was definitely blessed with good people in her life. And she couldn't bring herself to complain.
REVIEW! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Until next time! :D
