LOVERS APART

(Rachel)

I could consider myself a New Yorker because I felt so comfortable with the darks clothes, spaces filled, narrow streets, towering buildings, customs, slangs, with the bitter cold in the winter and the scalding summer. Yes, I was so comfortable and habituated with life in New York. Maybe that's why I marveled the sunny Los Angeles. The last time I've been there was when I was eight when my dads brought me and my sister to Disneyland.

Right at the airport, the ATU cast met the local producer who promised to indicate the best parties in town. My cast mates loved it, especially Nick, our natural goer. For my part, the enthusiasm for the nightlife post-theater practically non-existent, unless I had the opportunity to meet great actors or producers, as my agent, Josh Ripley, instructed me. A smile for the right person might open some doors.

I tried to fulfill all my professional commitments, but it's not that I liked to attempt all those celebrity parties. Yes, the first time I saw one of my Broadway idols in New York, I almost freaked out. But soon you learn that most of it was just business and you need to be seen on the stage and outside. Fame was also a serious press work and I knew I should hire a publicist. Just… not yet. I wasn't that prepared to be exposed, especially because Josh and my bosses told me I needed deny and hide my relationship with Quinn, which sucks.

I'd rather stay home with my girlfriend, my sister and my dearest friends enjoying some television guilty pleasure or going out to music festivals in Central Park, to restaurants, sometimes go to pubs. But what I loved the most, especially after I moved to Astoria, was to lie on my clean and comfortable sofa and watch a movie in Quinn's arms, even when Santana was muttering something along, it was perfect. That was my perfect day. Not having to go to parties with weirdos. In San Francisco, the producers made us go to a party in a nightclub to feed the local press. Steve hooked up with the actress Luna Berger and bang: looks us in the gossip websites.

Our first day in Los Angeles was no different. As we arrived at the airport, cast and crew left in vans. Part went to the hotel and part went straight to the theater in downtown. I did my research on the internet and was excited to be one of the leading and most modern theaters in Los Angeles. I was even more impressed when I saw that whole structure with my own eyes. Although our historic theater was important, that one in L.A would be the one where I faced my biggest audience in one session.

I dismissed the party on Thursday, but on Friday, there was a reception with the cast in a Japanese restaurant.

"Some celebrities will appear, maybe Les Mis cast of the local production. More importantly, two of the most respected theater critics were invited to LA. It's Important for you to interact and to give in small spontaneous interviews for both. I will indicate who they are." Molly, the ATU's publicist, said while she was accompanied us on the mini-tour when we sat in the lobby for a brunch.

"No more free afternoon?" Lucas asked.

"You do have a free afternoon!" Molly confirmed. "But Steve and Heather, that will do interviews three o'clock."

I was happy with the news. I planned to call Brittany and ask if she would be free on the day. I missed her and also had a lot to talk with her, starting with the plans she had made with my sister of moving in after the end of the tour with the dance company. I had to get this straight, because I needed to take care of Santana. My sixth sense - or spider-sense, like Johnny said - said that Brittany wasn't so enthusiastic about the idea of staying with my sister. This story needed to be taken to clean.

"Hello?" She answered. I was happy for us to be in Los Angeles at the same time.

"Britt? It's Rachel speaking."

"Rachel! How are you?"

"I'm in LA and with a free afternoon agenda. Would you be available to show me the city?" I sensed a hesitation on the other side of the line. "Britt?"

"Sure Rach. Where are you?"

"At Marriott's, downtown. Do you know where it is?"

"The GPS will know. What's the name of the hotel?"

"Marriott." I had the impression that Brittany wrote down the name somewhere. "How about a lunch together?"

"Sure! It'll be great! See you in a bit."

Brittany didn't seem very enthusiastic about our meeting. I wanted to find out what is going on. Or I was overly suspicious or something was wrong with Brittany. I put a summer dress, sandals and brushed my hair. I used light makeup, as always, and waited. Then my cell phone rang: it was my friend. I asked her to wait in the lobby, and then took the elevator to find her. Brittany was standing waiting, holding a helmet while looking at the environment with the old eyes of a curious little girl.

"Britt!" I said loud and walked directed to her and we hugged.

"I can't believe you're here! Santana came with you?" Of course she had to ask about my sister. That was the expected part.

"I'm on tour with ATU. My sister is finishing her term in Columbia and she can't travel until the next week, I think."

"Oh, yeah. She told me something like that."

"Now, but tell me all the good things that happened in your life in the last three months I need to know everything."

"Here or in a restaurant? My stomach is growling!"

"It could be in a restaurant, of course."

Brittany took me to the Cocina Rustica, an Italian restaurant that was right there in downtown. She seemed well acclimated with the city about to ride a motorcycle. I remembered that while Santy and I were having driving lessons with our parents, Brittany opted to learn to drive a motorcycle: a scooter in the case. Santana went out with her once in the scooter but my sister wasn't the best fan of motorcycles. I didn't think my experience was bad with Brittany driving through the streets of Los Angeles. She drove the vehicle with care and caution: not rushed and interpreted correctly all traffic signals. It was fun. We entered the restaurant and had a table. I ordered a spring risotto with a salad as entry and Brittany enjoyed a baked ziti.

"... And that's why we moved to another place." I finished updating her on the most important events in New York who apparently Santana left out in conversations with her on the phone. "Mike now lives alone in a studio in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. He is happy to have his on corner where he could sleep in peace with all the bimbos of New York City, but whenever there is a space on his agenda, Mike goes to Astoria to stay with us and watch TV."

"Santana said her room was big enough for two. And that she had her own bathroom."

"Kinda… actually my room and Quinn's is a suite. Santy's bathroom is out of the bedroom and also serves for the house. She is the only user most of the time."

"You do know she hates when you call by her nickname in front of other people..."

"You're not somebody else, Britt, and she's not around." She grinned. "By the way, when you will visit us again?" Suddenly, Brittany was speechless. I don't know what I did wrong. It was such a simple question that left her uncomfortable? I frowned. Yes, there was something wrong. My sixth sense never failed. But I preferred to change the subject. "Have you talked to Kurt? The last time I talked to him was when I spend the holiday of Thanksgiving in my parents' house last year."

"It may sound unbelievable, but I just talked to Kurt two or three times since I heard he lives in LA. The last time was six months ago... how can you live in the same city and still never see each other?" She finished her meal. "I mean, you are very busy in New York and still you can see Mike."

"It helps that we have lived together for almost two years. We became a family. Mike became a kind of elder brother to Santana, Quinn and I. But if this hadn't happened, maybe Mike wasn't so close anymore."

"Why do you think thing like this happens? Why our friendships don't last as much as what we had in Lima?"

"I think it's something about the big city and also what we do, who we interact with. Kurt isn't a dancer and I bet you have many friends who are dancers." She nodded. "Lima has another dynamic, it's smaller and also because we all belonged to the same group at school. I think we did a good temporary family, though."

"Maybe you're right."

"So… Do you want to see me on Sunday? Guess I can still book a ticket for a friend."

"Yes! I love to hear you sing!"

After lunch, Brittany claimed she had a commitment and left me back at the hotel. I asked Molly to book a guest ticket for me as it was entitled to my quota and hadn't used any yet in the tour. I tried to talk to Kurt, but I didn't succeed. Then I called Blaine and he said his boyfriend was out of the city, in Las Vegas, for a fashion convention. In the afternoon, just before going to the theater to prepare for the first day of the show, I called Quinn more quickly to say "hi, I miss you."

That's when I realized how much was really missed my girlfriend. I looked at my ring and I called the airline to forward my tickets.

…

(Quinn)

Rachel and the rest of the ATU cast left New York to do a mini-tour in California: they made one presentation in San Francisco on Wednesday and had a full weekend in Los Angeles. I couldn't go because I was stuck with college stuff and working on the indie film Roger Benz would produce alongside Aaron Smith, a respected director who received nominations for the Golden Globe. The project had four year in production and, after securing money, studio and distribution, it could finally be shot. Of course it would be an honor to attend the first project as assistant on a movie helping Gabriela with the extras and, maybe, serving coffee. What I would do was to be a photographer assistant, but the crew of photography and art direction was closed with director Aaron Smith. At best, I could be in the grip team. Well, I didn't think it would be bad.

Meanwhile, at NYU in class in Film Photography, Professor Richard McFeller was telling delightful stories about the techniques of Gordon Willis that revolutionary the lighting in "The Godfather", the importance of taming Marlon Brandon so he wouldn't leave the tag, beyond Homeric fights with Francis Ford Coppola. I had read something about it in "Easy Riders, Raging Bull: How The Sex-Drug-And-Rock'n'Roll Generation Saved Hollywood", by Peter Biskind. But once the techniques were closely held, it was much better than just reading the book. Not to mention the effort that professor McFeller had to invite people or production team that have worked with Mr. Willis to give us a lecture. Something I would enjoy immensely.

With Rachel in California, my day was lonely, despite the heavy workload. Mike, the only person in New York that I can talk things that I wouldn't talk to Rachel, wasn't exactly available. I think it was better to not reveal serious things to Santiago: he wasn't a serious guy. Santana and I talked little at home, but she was always busy with studies or those junk college friends.

Apparently she was more attached to Andrew, a friend who I remember having seen once, but we never had been introduced. Santana never brought her friends at home. Nor in Brooklyn nor in Queens and I don't know why. Maybe because she knew I would hate to be introduced to her junk friends. On the other hand, I also hadn't invited many people. Santiago was the only college friend for whom I had friendship. It was easier to socialize with people from work, because Rachel and I had several mutual acquaintances. My boss Roger Benz was in our apartment once, as part of the ATU cast: Lucas Hibbs and Nick Brown.

"Lopez." I greeted Santana as soon as I saw her coming home already in the middle of the night.

"Fabray! Rachel called?"

"Yeah, she found Brittany in Los Angeles, did an interview, and was preparing herself for the play today."

Interviews in which she couldn't mention her sexual orientation and the fact that she lived with her girlfriend. According to the vast experience and wisdom of Josh Ripley, her agent, Rachel should hide our relationship from the press if she wanted to consider a career outside Broadway. He said harshly that young gay actors had no chance to develop a film career, that the public was still homophobic and couldn't fall in love with someone with such sexuality. I didn't accept it immediately and even Rachel, but before the arguments, we talked and agreed that our relationship would be omitted for the media. For this reason she couldn't use her ring, then we agreed that, in public, she would replace the ring for a necklace with a pendant shaped crown: Queen = Quinn. I thought these terms were reasonable, and also I wouldn't like to be criticized for ruining her career.

"Brittany?" Santana was only interested in this information.

"And interviews and play." I reinforced even knowing that this was a part that no longer mattered.

"What else explodes. What she said about Britt?" It was the first time in a week that Santana showed minimally interested in anything I had to say. I remained in silent with half smile. She would lose patience in five seconds. "Quinn! Speak! Right! Now! "

"Nothing much."

"Nothing much? Of course she said something! Spit it out!"

"You are a curious person, Lopez. You hookup with a lot of guys, but would leave all for Britt. Yet, you say I am the gay of the house."

"Go to hell, Fabray!"

She left babbling in Spanish to her room. Lately, she did that a lot. I went back to study the tasks that had to produce the film: help in recruiting extras. There were the "professionals" who were registered in a system for those one line characters or to perform any movement of a specific scene. These were the most expensive double then amateurs: those that production was picking the location to make simple movements. Many of these amateurs agreed work even for free just for the pleasure of being part of a production or hoping to approach any actor to take pictures and get autographs, which usually, wasn't allowed. My copy of the script, beautifully written by Brian Sanders, brought some observations on how many "professionals" I would have to look for in the system and notice them to "audition".

I checked my watch. Considering the timezone, Rachel should be preparing to go on stage at that moment. I sent her my thoughts and wished "shit" in a prayer. And then I saw Santana through the small hallway with clean clothes and makeup on.

"I might sleep outside today."

"Are you carrying a condom in your purse?" I teased.

"For your information, I am. But that's not because I'm seeing anyone nor planning to have sex, if that's what you think. It's just a precaution. This party that might end up late and so it's better sleep in the home of some friend of mine than take the subway drunk or high at three in the morning." I have to admit that Santana had a great point: it would be safer that way.

"Great! Have fun and try not to drink or get too stoned."

"Go fuck yourself. I'll see you tomorrow."

I looked at the clock again and tried to concentrate on work. The more I get ahead, the more free time I would have in the weekend, and I was dying to go to my favorite bookstore in New York. There were some titles that I loved to read when I was a kid and it could find brand new copies with low prices. It was a matter of searching. Then we could buy some to give as a birthday gift for my Beth. One with many figures where she could peruse, play, imagine as I did when I was little. Thinking of Beth always calmed me. I often wondered how it would be if I hadn't given her for adoption or if, instead of Shelby, another person who I've never seen in my life adopted her. No! Things happened as they should be: I could follow my daughter growing up process this way. When Beth would be old enough to understand things I could show that my decision gave her a chance to enjoy a wonderful childhood having Shelby and Juan as parents. And that also gave me the opportunity to become someone who my daughter could be proud. That's my hope.

My cell phone rang and pulled me of the dream world.

"Quinn?" Rachel was talking in a sexy way.

"Hi Rachel. How'd it go?"

"We nailed it. I'm so happy. We didn't make too many mistakes this time and I didn't flinch in that part of 'Helter Skelter'"

"I'm glad." I laughed with my girlfriend happiness.

"Quinn, there was a change of plans. Nothing serious, I assure you. Could you pick me up at the airport on Monday morning? I was able to advance my flight just to be with you."

"Sure! What time?"

"I think I'll land at ten... I will confirm you tomorrow."

"Perfect!" Actually it wasn't that good because I would have to miss classes at NYU at the time I was studying for my final exams. "What will you do now?"

"The local production hosted a reception for the cast in a restaurant. I'm going there with the guys just because I have to. I'm not feeling that well and I sneezed twice today!" Oh the drama. Rachel had panic to get sick. She thinks a stupid flu could ruin her voice. Nonsense.

"Rest as much as you can, my pretty. I know you're working hard these days."

"I will." I heard noises of people screaming for Rachel in the background. "I have to go. I just wanted to wish you a good night."

"And nothing more?" I teased.

"Don't fight with my sister."

"Your sister is at a party right now… so anything else?"

"I love you, Quinn Fabray!"

"I love you too Rachel Berry-Lopez. Have fun and then rest."

"I'll call tomorrow. Bye."

My heart was a little quieter after talking to Rachel. I finished my work of the day and went straight to bed.

…

I spent almost the entire day outside. When I returned with a heavy bag of books, Santana met me with her dowdy blue shirt from Columbia who had the lion symbol behind.

"Are you ready?" I was confused. "Today my choir will perform along with the cheerleaders during halftime of the Lions' basketball game."

"It's true..." Santana was talking about this performance for days, but I forgot. "I'll just keep this bag and use the bathroom before we go."

I wanted both a long shower and put my feet up, but I only had time for a pee and brush my teeth. If I didn't go to the performance, a storm would fall on my head later. Santana was the star of the Columbia's Glee Club. Of course she didn't have the same hunger for the stage like Rachel. Different situations. While Santana participated only for the pleasure of singing, Rachel thought of a career that ended up materializing.

We found Mike and Johnny waiting for us at the entrance of the gym. Santana hugged them before distributing the tickets and run backstage. I hugged my friends and settled into the bleachers. The Lions were awful in basketball this season, well, as always, but I heard their baseball team was kind of good. Anyway, I was a NYU Violet and I was forced to cheer for the Lions because of Santana. The boys had already chosen Columbia: cheaters. The game started and, as always, the Lions were doing everything to lose at home.

In the range from second to third quarter of the game, the lights went out and there were shouts and whistles. A well-known Columbia's football player who was also a rapper began to vocalize the first verses of Rihanna's hit with Usher. Shortly thereafter, making Santana entered the part of the singer while the cheerleaders evolved into a choreography that was not up to snuff. Sue Sylvester planned much more interesting things with us. The arrangement that the DJ did for music was heavier than the original. It wasn't my favorite type of sound, but I enjoyed the presentation. Santana hates this kind of music, although this wasn't her style, she nailed it. Rachel was taken to the stage, Santana didn't deny that she had the gene. Me? Singing in the shower satisfy me at this point.

The Lions won by a measly two ridiculous points, but it was enough to keep them alive in the championship. As people left the gym happy with the victory, we were waiting for Santana. She appeared accompanied by Andrew, who was nerdy, but he was good looking.

"Hello guys, you already know my friend Andrew, isn't it? Andy, these are some of my besties: Johnny Boy, Mr. Chang and Fabray."

We shook hands and went out to eat something. Tom's Restaurant was always a good thing, but it tends to get crowded on game days. The day was very tiring but enjoyable. I just missed Rachel. As for Andrew, at first glance, he seemed a good influence to Santana.

When we got home early in the morning, I was taking a bath and then put on pajamas and sleep. I didn't know in what order I did these things, just know that blacked out. I woke up on Sunday morning with Santana hitting me with her kippah.

"What?" I said irritably.

"Won't you attend your church today?"

So it made me miss Rachel again: she was my most effective alarm clock and woke me from a much more gentle way than her sister. Not that I wanted that type of kindness from Santana. I stood up, barely brushed my teeth and went to church with nothing in my stomach. I saw that my cell had six missed callings. Some of them were sure from Rachel. Even in Astoria, I continued to attend church in Brooklyn as well as Rachel and Santana also continued to go to the synagogue on the same neighborhood. I could barely concentrate on the pastor's sermon. All I could think about was the ring on my finger and messages on my cell phone.

…

(Rachel)

It was a lazy Sunday: my schedule was free without any promotional parties and reporters to face. I, Sarah and Lucas enjoyed the free tour to make some capitalist fun: shopping. We strolled around Hollywood, Beverly Hills and then buy trinkets to give as gifts. In my case: a dress for Quinn, a blouse for Santana, a T-shirt and a cap to Mike and Johnny. Lucas was in great spirits and spent the day sober drinking orange juice and mineral water. He had certain excesses, but he knew how take care of himself. Sarah bought a lot of gifts for her relatives and boyfriend even thought that wasn't her first time in L.A. I was looking forward to our summer break to return to my hometown to stay with my family. I spent almost the entire semester without seeing my parents and my family in Ohio. My mother would make Beth's three year party at the weekend, but neither I nor Quinn would be present. It was bored and sad missing my papi's hug and abuela's cookies.

I also was sick watching my co-stars doing stupid things. Like Steve, who loved hookup with the dancers. Or Nick Brown and his cocaine problem. At least, he didn't work high, but as soon as we are out of stage, in his dressing room, he started his love affair with the coke. Sometimes Heather joins him. Sometimes her Hollywood and celebrities C-list friends watches ATU and they go to private parties or fancy nighclubs on Manhattan. Lucas Hibbs did regular things like drink and eventually hookup with fangirls. Sarah and I were the ones of the main cast that had a boring normal life. I wish I could invite Sarah more for a coffee in my house, but Quinn was jealous of her and I still didn't know why.

We came back to the hotel and got ready for the last night working. It wasn't our best day and I blamed all the party time some of my co-stars were doing during the previous days. Steve had a hangout and Nick looked sick. I saw Brittany in the audience. She gave me a wave that almost made me lost my line. But I was so pleased with her presence. When we finished our day, the cast came out for the night. My intention was dining in a restaurant with Brittany, but she asked to accompany me to the hotel. She seemed sad for some reason, so I didn't object. Maybe she needed to talk.

Brittany looked around in my hotel room. It was just a place with a soft bed and bathroom like all my colleagues had.

"This is a cool room." It was the first thing she said after we left the dressing room I was sharing with Sarah. "I only have a room for myself on the tours when I pay for it. Otherwise, I need to share it with others dancers."

"Britt, don't think that I'm not happy to be here with you, but you don't seem so well. Did something happen?"

Brittany lay in the bed and stared at the ceiling. I sat on her side already worried.

"Britt..."

"Remember when Santana was grounded and we spent hours and hours playing anywhere but here because she wasn't allowed to play outside or watching TV?"

"Yes I remember!" I settled beside her. The game was an exercise of imagination which we invented situations where we wanted to live anywhere else in the globe, but here in the house.

"Santana always had the best stories."

"I had some great too!"

"Your stories were basically about Broadway, Rach." Brittany shrugged and I closed my eyes. I let my imagination flourish.

"I'm next to a beach in Barcelona sitting in tables of a small but charming restaurant. I'm looking at the clock kind of impatient because Quinn was supposed to meet me there and she was already late. I order orange juice to pass the time thinking how pathetic would be to order another one waiting her. Tired and a bit hungry, I think to call her again, but as soon as I search my cell into my purse, Quinn call me in rush. She is a bit red due to the scorching summer sun. But that wonderful mediterranean climate immediately healed any stress. She gives me a kiss before sit down and apologizes for the delay. She said she lost track of time taking pictures around town. Suddenly, a person arrived and sits at the table behind me. Quinn starts to shake with excitement. She quietly takes a photo with her cell and shows me the reason: Catherine Zeta-Jones. We eat our snacks without disturbing her, and when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, the very one mrs. Zeta-Jones comes to our table. She had recognized me from the stage and decided to say hi. I am very surprised but happy with the reorganization. I invite her to sit with us to chat for five minutes. We take some selfies just right there in the restaurant, and then I ask for an autograph and even exchange information about the best tourist spots in the city!"

The first part of the story was based on true facts. When Quinn and I were in Barcelona, there was a day that she did made me wait in a restaurant because she was taking photos. The Catherine Zeta-Jones was my imagination speaking.

"That's very good, Rach. Very good, indeed!" Brittany cheered and turned to me. Then, she got serious again. She put her finger in my nose. "You're so different to Santana, and yet so similar." She stared into my eyes. "You have great imagination, like adventures, have a feline tongue and get annoyed at ease..."

"Britt... I..."

"You and Santana are so different, yet, there is a feeling of home that is almost equal. Somebody already told you that?" Brittany smiled while wiped the tear from the corner of her eye.

"Brittany, I don't understand..."

"I can't be with San... at least not now... and I came here because I don't have the courage to talk looking into her eyes, but maybe you can give the message."

"Britt, what's going on?"

She looked away, wiped a tear and couldn't look at me in the eyes again.

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" My heart skipped a beat.

"I hooked up with my boss and it was fun. Jim is the company's choreographer and manager. He was surprised when I told him I was late because we used protection every time, but one day when we were too drunk to care. He said he liked me for real and that he will take care of me and our kid. Rachel, I know Santana also would take care of me. But she has a bright future, she is studying on a big important college and I can't just throw a child on her lap. It's not fair."

"She'll freak out, Britt. God. My sister will freak out. You can't imagine how she spent all this time being a good girl, abstinent, just waiting for you." I was panicking.

"I'm sorry." Brittany cried harder. "I'm so sorry!"

I could do nothing more than to hug my friend and let her cry.