Jealousy
(Quinn)
Well, I tried, but couldn't get in the production of the film more than help in calling extras and some bureaucratic care. I wanted very, very much to get a place in the crew. I could carry equipment, be assistant of the assistant, anything but Gabriela had to report Songbook's final numbers, the musical play that introduced Rachel and Mike, and we still had a lot to manage in "Across The Universe", which was a very lucrative musical play for the company. I had to forget the movie. My consolation prize was Roger Benz's project with a close friend: a short film to be released directly into the web as part of a contest for filmmakers.
It would be take three days filming in Long Island with a cast of six performers, including: Josh Solano, which was a nice actor introduced in Songbook along with Rachel and Mike, and currently was in a dramatic play on Broadway. It was just a small project, but at least it would be my first shoot out of the practical exercises in college. It was a reason to cheer me up, right? Roger gathered a homely staff, close friends, as if the project was just a weekend fun with a nice script, and he let me be camera assistant. That would be my big debut in the film world.
I really wanted to be part of a big movie and maybe if I was closer to James Golvi within the R&J I could have been taken in consideration. But here's my situation: I need to meet Gabriela's demand and she gave me a little time to interact with my two main bosses. And when I did, it is always with Roger because he is the most approachable and friendly. James Golvi is a great theater director and producer, but he is always very busy and he could be very cruel in the criticism when something didn't go out to the liking.
But while the shoot didn't start, I would have a weekend to make a great freeler: I was hired by a cooperative of new fashion designers to photograph a collection. The models were college students and I met some of them in pubs and places frequented by NYU students, like me. This cooperative had no money to hire a truly professional photographer, but I was available and had a good resume of studio photographs and barbecues of wealthy families, thanks to Mr. Weiz. It was a job that paid well by my standards and should be done on location in some interesting streets. I received half of the money before and I would have the other half after the photos been approved, as agreed in the "contract". Of course, I would have to invest in some things using part of the prepayment: I would have to pay for an assistant and rent the necessary equipment. I also would have to rent a car because carrying expensive equipment and leased around in public transport was crazy. To my pocket would be left more or less a thousand dollars. It was great for a weekend job only. Not to mention that such a job can yield a considerable clientele.
Meanwhile, the film walked well. Aaron, Roger and the other directors began to plan the work schedule of production (which I no longer participate). The idea was to premiere it at Toronto International Festival Film, but for this, everything should be ready no later than next year's April. The shootings would take place in September. I wanted to go to Canada with the staff but my job was finished. "The Saint Woman" was a light comedy with very intelligent humor about a woman named Grace, a fine prostitute from a fake model's agency who returns to the small town where she was born and revitalizes the community theater group. The detail is that Grace doesn't leave the office because of her need to eat and pay her bills and the townspeople don't know what she does to living. The film was a critical of the society that cares more about the business card than with the good that a person can actually do.
"Fabray." Roger called me from the office and I thought it would be something related to the short film.
"What is it, boss?" I went into the office with my holy cup of coffee in hand.
"By chance you commented about the film with your woman?" It's how he called Rachel when he's talking to me: "your woman". Our relationship was well known within the production, though no word on it could get out of that environment because Rachel had an image to sell.
"Yes, Rachel knows about the film. Why?"
"There is a role of the pastor's daughter, which I think would be perfect for her."
"What?" I inevitable opened a smile. She would freak out!
I had read the script. The pastor's daughter, Leslie, was one of the first characters of the young cast that adheres to the community theater. She should be between 16 and 17 years old, had strong, sassy personality to faced her father. There was a good scene between the pastor and Leslie, perhaps one with Grace, but I couldn't remember how many lines she had spoken. Rachel definitely would fit.
"I just found out that brat Ava Keyes asked to leave because she got another part... well, the staff will have to run to pick another actress, but I think Berry would fit well in the role. Did she would be willing to audition? I've already talked to Aaron and James and they accepted the suggestion. I know her ATU's schedule is free next week but I don't if she booked other things to do."
"I don't think so, but her agent has..."
"I don't want to deal with this kind of asshole, ok? It's just an audition, without compromises. If it works, then we deal with her agent."
"Okay. I'll tell her." I went out of the room.
"Ah! Fabray!" I turned round. "That bid you asked to be part of upcoming film projects. Well, if you do it right in the short film, maybe, and I say, maybe, you will be effected on the next project."
Which one?" Gabriela was the one with this kind of first hand information, not me. Things that were born producer behind closed doors. State secret. Only gradually the project was revealed to us.
"A webseries." He winked at me and said nothing more. "Now get out. I need to make some calls." I nodded and left him alone.
At home, I found a more picturesque scene between the twins. Santana spent two weeks vacationing with Juan, Shelby and Beth in Mexico and came back sick with stomachache and flu. She arrived at the weekend with a written prescription by Juan. Rachel ran it all with tyranny. At least Santana had the right to vacation while Rachel and I didn't have that luxury. We spent almost the entire summer fanning in New York. I just took a break for a week and went to Ohio to visit my mother and Beth. Rachel accompanied me to Lima (but stayed in her house). At the time, Santana was with us and stayed there until the trip to Mexico (it was almost a month without her at home). I just would take my full vacation in October or November. Rachel? Only Christ knew.
The issue was that Santana had the flu, but still thought she could continue her regular pace, that her body doesn't need to rest to heal: she wanted to go to small college parties, go to concerts with Johnny and drinking with Mike. But this was not her bad alone. Rachel also not absorbed well the information that she was sick, which, indeed, it was seldom. When got any flu, Rachel became a drama queen without precedent. She got worried about her voice, that it could ruin her talent and so on. I had no problem on spending the day in bed taking teas, soups and receiving affection from my girlfriend. Rachel was an excellent nurse, apart her damn disturbing medical mask.
"Yo no necesito este alimento para los enfermos!" Santana was sitting on the couch with a tablet in hands, the television on, a well used paper box scarf over the coffee table, trash bin beside her full of it. "Aún más una sopa con esa cosa verde."
"Esta cosa se llama berro verde y cuesta el ojo del hombre, pero eso es lo que le ayudará a expectorar. Ahora bien, si usted no toma esta sopa en cinco minutos te juro que me quedo el plato en la boca!"
"Buena suerte con eso, nurse Jack!"
"Good evening to you too!" I went straight to my room.
It was a waste of time to meddle in the discussions of these two, especially when they were speaking in Spanish: it was a sign that the discussion was going on for hours. Doesn't mean it was simple task to not be evolved in sisterhood issues because it was difficult to avoid jealousy sometimes. Santana and Rachel have a connection I could ever achieve. Biologically they were half-sisters, for sure, but none of that changes the fact that they have left the same womb at 29 minutes apart. As much as they quarreled, stop to talk, and even hurt each other, there was this invisible glue that would join them in a heartbeat. I wish I had that invisible glue with Rachel. Honestly, it was increasingly clear the feeling that we were meant to be together forever. However, sometimes when Santana was around, as this ridiculous fight, I felt the last on the list of Rachel's priorities. I tried to do my best to deal and not to show my jealousy, but the green monster was there.
"Hi!" Rachel entered the room and kissed me. "I made a delicious soup. Do you want some?"
"The 'cosa verde'?"
"It's watercress! It's good for the lungs, you know that? Devourer of bacon!"
"If you experience a piece of bacon once in your life, you would you give me reason."
"I've tried bacon and that's your fault. I know you eat bacon in the street and then back home to kiss me in a less than loving way when we have our fights."
"It's a good revenge, you have to admit." I smiled to myself.
"Creative, at least!"
"I'm a genius."
"Without the slightest modesty and somewhat arrogant."
"You do love me!"
"Absolutely!" I sat on the bed and pulled Rachel into my lap. It was nice to get home and find my lady always willing to make treats and petting. I was selfish that way. Sometimes I felt like a macho of those 1950s. Worse, sometimes I felt like my father.
"I have good news." I said as my hands were immensely enjoying my lady's body. Rachel had a sexy and feminine abdomen. Not to mention the amazing legs. "Roger asked me to call you to do an audition to the movie next week..."
As I figured, Rachel didn't wait me to finish the sentence. She started jumping around the room like a crazy and screaming to the point of calling the attention of her sister, who even knocked on the door before entering to see what was happening.
"What is this shit?" Santana asked me.
"Rachel will audition for the movie."
"Oh, cool." She turned around and exited in the best Santana's style. I was sure she would be rolling her eyes and muttering something in Spanish. Maybe calling us "sea-lions" or something.
"I need the script... I have to prepare myself as best as possible. I can't give chance to the competition!" Rachel was that hyperactive way: it was adorable and scary at the same time.
"Take it easy, Mrs. Fabray." I spoke without feeling while gripping her waist. Rachel's eyes widened and then I realized my Freudian lapse. My heart was pounding. "Sorry... I... I..." Rachel cut me with a reassuring kiss.
"Our day will come, my love." And brushed my hair from my face to give me a kiss on the tip of my nose. "And we'll have a serious talk about last names."
My heart melted. Rachel really thought of marrying me someday.
…
Working with models is very similar with babysitting. I thought that people who deal with art wasn't a simple task. Cute "Intellectuals" are much worse. On the other hand, I was pleased with the results. Guy, my assistant, was the son of R&J's secretary. He was 17 years old, still in high school, and was a smart kid who always tried to earn a few bucks to be able to have their own things and liked to make homemade videos to post on Youtube. I offered $200 for the weekend job. Money well invested. His mischief and ingenuity were a great distraction for the intellectual parts, ruse that I took as well.
"I've never tired of saying that I found brilliant your idea for the locations." Guy was a really excited boy. "I can't believe I've never stepped a foot in Hell's Kitchen. Dude, I didn't know the city that I live since I was born, and you're here for how long? Three years?"
I just smiled and enjoyed my apple pie. Guy had a huge burger in front of him and devoured it like a typical teenager. A brunette woman with delicate features entered the cafeteria with two friends (I think) and sat at the next table. She was very attractive. Guy smiled when he realized that the girl began to look earnestly towards us. She made that typical pawn to face, something to gossip with friends, laughing, looking back, looking again to my table, say something, laughing. Suddenly, the woman stood up and asked if she could take the tube mustard borrowed. I looked at her desk quietly and it already had one, her friends looked anxious there. I decided it would be impolite give away with a verbal response, so I just nodded yes, she could have the tube of mustard, and "casually" played with my ring. She frowned, took the tube and apologized. Guy projected his body forward, smiling. He acted as if I was a hormonal classmate wearing a dress.
"Come on, Quinn! If it were me, I would tap that!"
"I have a girlfriend."
"You might be committed, but you aren't dead, right? Costs to try? Your girlfriend doesn't even need to know."
"I'm glad I have an accomplice... but no!"
At the exit of the cafeteria had a stack of tabloids for free. It was just one more of this cheap journalism which most of the news was sucked from the internet. I picked one because I liked to do the crosswords and Santana loves sudoku. Printed newspapers have become rare, but I gave my full support to those who could move, especially the small ones.
"Quinn, wait just a second I need to relieve myself."
"Okay!"
While Guy went to the bathroom, I flipped the tabloid. It began with news of the town, had a piece of policy followed for the sports section and closed with cultural and entertainment editorship. There was a session of Broadway's gossip occupying half a page with a photo and several little notes around. The image editing that brought Rachel and Lucas Hibbs walking embracing and smiling at each other through the streets of Manhattan. Of course it took my attention.
"The adjuvant couple of the Broadway hit 'Across The Universe' might also be a item in real life. Rachel Berry (19) and Lucas Hibbs (24) doesn't detach at backstage. 'They are always hugging and exchanging kisses. The attunement between them is amazing', said the source. A person close to the actors says, however, that Miss Berry is engaged with a member of the show's production, but wouldn't reveal the identity of the suitor. Did 'Jodie' even become 'Hiberry'?"
I didn't know whether to be angry or worried by the news of gossip industry have discovered Rachel. I just knew that my blood rose. I made a lot of effort to keep myself neutral in the last photo shoot with the college models. I smiled at the makeup artist and hairdresser, gave satisfaction to the stylists and supervised the models as best as I could. But inside, this tabloid was eating me. The rational side of me said that it was clearly a lie, that this only happened because ATU was a hit, then people start to get curious about the actors personal lives. Of course Rachel wasn't a nationally known actress: she was still inserted in the small world of Manhattan, by Broadway fans almost exclusively, and the gossip column has a name that goes straight to the point: "Broadway Gossip", in other words, anything close to "Hollywood Gossip" with paparazzi lurking around. No! It was just a really bad liar note written by a mediocre columnist who found space to publish lies in a tabloid bum without credibility, freely distributed. Nothing that would affect our relationship, right?
On the other side of me, the caveman was fighting forever against the green monster. I was screaming inside. Al I wanted was get home and take all the satisfaction deserved, because, although ridiculous, the note wasn't such a total liar as well. It was written that Rachel was involved with someone of the production. Here I am: the "someone" of the production. My part of direct involvement in the production of the play was over, but still... And if that part of the note was true, what prevented the first part have any meaning? I've always thought that Sarah 'Prudence' Kleist had a thing for my Rachel. But what if I was wrong? Lucas Hibbs had always been very friendly to me and liked to sleep with fans. What if he was the real villain? After all, he was the one who squeezed Rachel's breasts, kiss her mouth and neck and still hold her against setting with her legs around his waist eight sessions per week.
I was almost home when I had the idea of taking Rachel. I turned my way to the theater and went straight backstage since I had free access. Because of the songs, I knew they were preparing for the final act without even had to check the stage from the aisle. Back there, I heard "All You Need Is Love" as amended by "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds". It was the end of another full house week: the tickets for that month reached the minimum goal and whatever more that came from there was profit. The cast and dancers left smiling but visibly tired from the stage. Lucas came in the first group. It looked like he was in pain.
"Quinn! Long time no see." He greeted me quickly. "Sorry I can't talk to you right now, but I have stretched a muscle..." and went straight to the dressing room it.
Steve Zappa also greeted me quickly. He was intimately embraced with one of the dancers. Sarah just passed me by offering me a half smile. After a warning I did to her while the play was still in production that Sarah had always froze in my presence. Heather... our dislike was mutual. Rachel opened a tired smile when she saw me and threw her body against mine. I only had time to spend my arms around her waist and back to support her.
"Glad you came! It seems that you have guessed my thoughts."
"How was today?" My heart melted to see her so exhausted. Rachel always seemed so fragile at times like that.
"Today was... complicated. Lucas turned his ankle early in the play and spent the entire time limping, Heather's half stoned and we had to improvise more than normal."
"But the audience reacted well..."
"Because we are good." Rachel broke our embrace and took my hand, leading me into the dressing room she shared with Sarah.
Obviously Sarah felt uncomfortable when I came into the dressing room. She never said anything to me and apparently neither Rachel, but I could see it in her eyes. As always, I stood quietly watching my lady removing her makeup and costume. Sunday was always the worst day for the cast, it seemed. Whenever something went wrong, it happened on that very day of the week.
"Mint candy?" Sarah offered me.
"Thank you." I took one and put it in the mouth.
"Let's get a taxi?" Rachel grabbed her purse already in their normal clothes.
"I have a car." Sarah looked at me weird. She knew we didn't have a car, so I explained. "Because I made a photographic work this weekend and rented a van to transport the models and the equipment."
"Nice. Are you drive to the Queens across the bridge or through the tunnel?" Sarah asked.
"Tunnel" I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Could you give me a ride?" Sarah's request that surprised me. "Today I'm going to Murray Hill. My boyfriend lives nearby and if you go through the tunnel, then you will go around there."
"No problem." I nodded.
Rachel and Sarah came chatting along the way as good castmates. Sarah's boyfriend was an attorney and they've been together for some time. Rachel and Sarah even made some relevant comments about the daily life of the cast, as the last promotional photoshop which displeased the actresses. I saw the pictures and it was no big deal. I would have done much better job. Finally, I let Sarah where she pointed and two blocks later we were in the tunnel toward Astoria. We parked in the first spot we had right in our building and Rachel helped me carry the equipment. Santana had left a note on the refrigerator saying she wouldn't sleep at home that night. Rachel complained and I had to agree: until yesterday, Santana was dying of flu in bed.
Rachel was taking a shower, unaware of the storm in my head and I preferred that. I made a noodles and stayed quiet, eating that expressed food. Rachel left the bedroom on pajamas while I was still finishing my almost cold noodles. That's when Rachel realized something was wrong.
"Shoot." She said when I was washing our dishes. At first I pretended not understand. "You are monosyllabic, that way you stay when you are having a problem..."
"Rach..." I shut the water from the sink and sought the tabloid that I had left in the corner near the equipment. I showed the gossip column and watched her reactions as well.
"That's not true!" She frowned and then grabbed my arm. "The note is lying and it's poorly written. I think these ridiculous shipper names are…"
"The second part of the gossip, the other source, is not a liar. You are involved with someone of the same production."
"Quinn... don't you trust me?"
"I trust you. I don't trust in others. This photo and..."
"Luc is my friend. Perhaps the closest of my co-workers, you know that." She paused to examine the photo carefully. "Looks like this photo was taken the day we did that interview for radio. And I left there embraced with Luc. And it's not a big deal because you know I do the same with Mike and Johnny."
"Neither Mike or Johnny insinuate have sex with you on stage!" My rationale went to China.
"I'm not buying it! Quinn Fabray, I'm well aware of your jealousy, but give credit to a Broadway gossip column written by someone who has absolutely nothing to do? Did you take a story of an ordinary photo?" She grabbed the tabloid, kneaded and tossed it into the wastebasket and stomped off to the bedroom.
"Rach... please." She slammed the door in my face and I immediately heard the click of the key. "Rach, open the damn door!"
"No!" Her voice was shaky crying. "You will sleep on the couch tonight, Quinn Fabray. Now leave me alone!"
"Open this damn door, Rachel Berry-Lopez!" I beat stronger. "And come here to talk like an adult!"
"Adult? You are screaming!"
"Rachel, I'll knock the shit out of that door! You do owe me explanations!"
"I don't owe you any explanations and I won't open anything while you are acting as a psycho. Good night, Quinn Fabray! Appreciate the couch!"
"Rachel... Rachel!" More beats of mine and no response.
I sighed. Note for the future: I need to work better in my approach when questioning Rachel about anything, especially about gossips, blind item and etc. Rachel was a good actress and was beginning to attract attention in the theater world. She might shoot her first film - something that I was making a huge mental effort to not sabotage. Still, she would need to cool down too. I took my bath in Santana's bathroom and straightened me to sleep in her room with her clothes. By dawn, I couldn't precise what time, somebody pushed me and wake me up.
"Rach?" I said sleepily.
"No, it's the evil twin!" Santana had the whiff of tequila and her clothes smelled marijuana.
"Wouldn't you sleep outside?"
"I changed my mind. Shouldn't you be sleeping in the other room with my sister?" She shook her head. "I'm not thinking right... I will take my bath and if you can make me some coffee..."
I astonished the sleep from my eyes and did exactly what Santana asked. So a made the coffee and even prepared a sandwich with turkey breast (ham was banned from the house) and cheese. Santana appeared to be more stoned than drunk and I could bet that something different happened while she was partying. She reached the kitchen with wet hair and face of few friends, but thanked for the extra snack.
"What happened?" I asked.
"The party was... weird. Few things happened that I didn't want to talk about."
"Something serious? Did you use harder drugs?"
"That can be involved..."
"What?"
"Quinn I don't really want to talk about it. But I guarantee you that it wasn't my fault and I don't want to repeat any experience that happened tonight. God! I'm thirsty." She took a glass of water for herself.
"In that case, I'm glad you regretted." I was really glad.
"Yeah… but why were you sleeping in my bed?"
I told my story while Santana was eating her lunch in silence and shook her head time to time.
"Fabray, you are stupid!"
"Thanks for the support, Lopez."
"Rachel would never cheat on you, idiot, no matter how ridiculous gossip tabloid tell you otherwise. I know my sister well enough to affirm she would rather break up with you before. Yet, if she had done anything wrong, she would feel so guilty that she would tell you. Rachel has always been like that since we were kids. Whenever we made some prank that ended in shit, Rachel confessed everything to our dads, even if she knew we both would be grounded for life."
"She is not a child..."
"But she's still Rachel! I know my sister, Fabray. I've been living with her since I was an embryo... Well unfortunately she loves you more than you give credit or merit." Santana set the dishes in the sink and went to the bedroom. Then came back with a pillow and a blanket under her arm and threw then on the couch. "You really deserve the sofa and you still are very lucky that I didn't ask back my pajamas!"
I had no clean clothes out of my room, that's why I wore her pajama: one that was sort of short in my arms and tight in my legs. Santana was as skinny as Rachel, and was only a few inches taller. If their features were quite different, their body shape was very similar: narrow hips, long legs, small breasts (although Santana did want to do breast implants), nice ass, shoulder length, the abs.
I looked at the couch and sighed. At least it was a comfortable mobile to take a nap. I made another mental note: never seek alliance with Santana when the subject is Rachel.
…
(Santana)
It wasn't only at college that you can witnesses the consumption drugs, tobacco and alcohol. It was everywhere. No wonder that marijuana is now sold legally in Colorado in a deal that has raised $3.5 million in taxes only in the first month. The tobacco industry earns on average $500 billion per year. And only Anheuser-Busch Inbev moves $81 billion per year: you do know this company if you drink Budweiser, Stella Artois, Bud Light and Beck's. The society almost begs you to be a junkie-drunk because it means money, healthy economy and jobs. I should do my final college monograph about it.
Daddy was a junkie in college. I think that by being openly gay and people were even more cruel with him in the late 1980s when AIDS was still a devil gay curse, hence the reason why he got involved with both marijuana, tobacco, alcohol and even some cocaine along his sex and social life, until he started dating papi for real. He didn't tell us if he experienced something beyond, but what I know was that daddy strongly discouraged us to follow his path. He even confessed once, when we were older, that he was really afraid to get tested when he and papi did all the exams before the insemination, and that was a relief when he knew for sure he was miraculously clean.
Still, I tried a cigar once with Puck when I was a freshman in McKinley High. I hated and cut it off. I tried beer and others alcoholic drinks in the parties and a like then. I tried marijuana and I smoke it sometimes. So, according the social standards, I was doing my part. It was a fair deal and my junkie-drunk meter graphic says I was good in the green zone. But, sometimes, somebody try to push you to go deeper throw the yellow zone and even the red zone of the graphic. That's when you should be careful and strongly watch yourself because go back to the green zone could be a bitch and even impossible.
I spent my summer vacation without even thinking about drink or the weed, but things changed when Izabella called saying about a great party at one of the fraternities. It was common that kind of event in the weekends that preceded the start of classes at the end of the month. We were returning to campus, there was the whole process of confirming enrollment, and even do it in two steps if you have entered the waiting list of some class before the beginning of the actual new term.
Rachel and Quinn wasn't home so a left a note warning them that I went to a party and probably would sleep outside. The problem is that I came back from Mexico with strong flu and a stomach ache that could be possible gastritis, according papi. Of course I was getting better, but in my sister's mind, I should be one more week out of scene, watching TV and drinking herbal tea. Not quite there. I had to live. I had friends outside our usual circle and I enjoyed spending my time with them. I took the subway towards the campus. As agreed, Andrew was waiting for me at the station.
"Hi nerd."
"Hi crazy." He hold my hand and so we went out to the streets. "Did you get better from that flu?"
"Don't you see?"
"You don't seem fully recovered."
"I'm good enough to go out and have fun." Andrew didn't seem convinced, and seemed to be thinking about something else. "What?"
"We should jump this party. I can take you to another place if you want. We can go to my dorm to see a movie. You don't seem right, San."
"Andrew!" I complained. "I want to dance and see the guys. I've been missed the gang."
"But in a fraternity?"
"What's the matter?" He looked at me as if asking me to change my mind silently. I was adamant.
We walked to the fraternity, which was two block before the campus. We met Matt, Lucy, Izabella and the rest of the gang. They celebrated our arrival and in less than ten seconds, I swear, I had a cup of tequila in my hand. The DJ played some track with remixes and usual electronic beats, but it meant a game wins. I danced at least three songs and I was enjoying myself. Andrew didn't: his discomfort was clear and I couldn't understand the reason. Not that my friend was a repressed guy, despite being a nerd. He also drank beer and smoked marijuana occasionally. There were parties that he left without taking anything. I think he liked to prove to others that additives weren't a prerequisite for him to have fun, or something. The point is that I saw Andrew drunk and stoned once or twice.
Matt had, as usually, the weed and some pills. I bought him a pot and started smoking a bit. I coughed. It seemed to be a bit stronger than I was used, but it was good. Lucy took the pill and I did not know what it was, but imagined to be speed, ecstasy or something. Andrew was still in his first cup of beer and at that point we saw some fratboys taking their shirt off. Several other guys started to do the same to show the perfect abs. Some girls felt challenged and did the same, remaining on their bras. Matt offered me a shot of tequila and I accepted. Then he came over and started dancing with me.
I didn't know what happened for sure: if it was the weed mixed with something more, the drink or the fact that I have taken prescribed medicine by my father and he made it clear that I should not drink alcohol. What I knew was that I was starting to go. It was something new. It was as if my senses were expanding and had this euphoria that I had never felt before. It was hard to explain. I didn't know… I couldn't think straight... What I knew was that Matt was dancing around, holding my body and I was just letting it go.
"You're so hot, Santana." Matt whispered in my ear.
"But I'm much sand for your truck." I was kind high. Not drunk, but stoned.
"My truck is pretty big." He answered.
"I've seen your truck and it's pretty ordinary."
"Maybe you don't remember it right. You should see it again and feel how well my truck can fill your garage up."
"But I don't want."
"Why."
"Because I don't want you."
I just walked away. Izabella, as always, has become the center of attention. I, on the other hand, was confused with my own body. I was aware of everything that was happening around me, but the senses… There was confusion, a willingness to let myself have more. I could feel my heart racing, it was as if the adrenaline had taken over my body. It was as if I could run for miles in those high heels.
I drank another shot of tequila... the music... the dance... people... I began to feel taken by too many stimuli. It was good and bad at the same time. I was having a trip for sure. With what, I didn't know. There was something mixed with the marijuana, or in the drink. Additives. I didn't know. I felt my body dance but my mind began to disassociate. Matt was still next me. I needed air. There was the roof of the building. I didn't know if there were people there, but I didn't care. I went upstairs and found the place empty. It was better that way. I breathed fresh air and felt my mouth dry. Now all I wanted was some water.
"I thought you would want some of that." Matt was showing me a bottle of water. It was as if he knew exactly what was happening to me.
"Thank you." I grabbed the bottle and felt relieved. "With what you drugged me, Matt?"
"I drugged you?" He chuckled. "Did I forced you to something, love? You bought the weed by your own will."
"Do not call me love."
"What should I call you? Whore?" He grabbed my wrist. I tried to free myself, but he held me tight. "Do you like being called whore, don't you? As I called you a whore while I was fucking you good."
"We fucked only once, so make a favor for yourself and forget it!" I tried to break me free again, but he held me tighter. "Let me go, Matt."
"No."
"Let me go!"
"No!" He grabbed me and tried to kiss me. I pushed with all my strength and I tried to kick his balls, but he defended himself using his leg, which was worse for me. "Bitch!" Matt got angry and slapped my face hard and a fell on the floor.
By then, even feeling the effects of the drug and a bit of the alcohol, I was perfectly aware of what he would try to do. I tried to get up quickly and run, but he grabbed me again before I could reach the door of access stairs. My blood throbbed strong, my heart was racing, I was panicking. He threw me on the floor again and I knew I had to fight him once more and win or he would rape me.
Fortunately, someone else was on the roof. It was Andrew. I screamed for his help as Matt tried to attack me again. Andrew didn't let him and the two began an open fight. Matt was stronger than Andrew and was taking advantage. I wanted to help my friend, I wanted to kill Matt anyway and I still pulsing adrenaline, so I jumped on his neck to give Andrew time to recover and put down my nails in his face, tearing his skin.
"Your bitch!" He screamed and throw me on the cement floor, but gave Andrew enough to get back to the action and give him two well-aimed punches. Matt got down for the first time. I got up and stood next to Andrew, who was panting and bleeding lips to.
"Next time you come near me, I swear I'll split your balls." I said with hatred.
"And don't forget, Matt, I'll always be on her back."
"You're pathetic, man. The pathetic and the whore. Great couple!" Matt screamed.
Andrew wanted to react, but I held him.
"He is not worth it, Andy. He's just dealer piece of shit."
"He really is." Andrew said with hatred.
We turn our back and leave the roof. But I didn't want to go back to party. There was no mood for dancing and drinking after almost being almost raped by the dealer of the campus.
"Are you okay?" Andrew asked me. He brought his hand up to my face and wiped something on my cheek with his thumb. He was so delicate that moved me.
"We should get some ice. Your lip is bleeding."
"That's ok. I'll call a cab. You should go home."
Yes, I should. I still felt the effect of the drug and it started to bother me. It was as if I wanted to sober up to do something important, but the strong hangover wasn't letting me. That was how I felt and my stomach was wrapping. It was when I throw up in the sidewalk in front of some snob fratgirls.
"San? Are you really ok? Maybe I should follow you to your home."
"You don't need to. I'm feeling better now. Hi girls." The fratgirls made a disgusted face and left. I didn't care. "We even what makes a good team, Andy... we should be together, you know? We should date." I said as we walked to a hotel one block from the Frat, where we could get a taxi easily.
"I love you, San. I really do. But I will only consider it if you ask me again in another day when you are completely sober."
"And when I ask, will you accept?"
"Absolutely." He tried to laugh, but winced in pain. Matt must have really hurt Andrew.
I got a taxi but before parted I said goodbye to Andrew with a warm hug. There, on the vehicle to Astoria, Queens, even with the still confused mind, I did a review of my friendships in Columbia during the first year of college. I realized that Andrew was the one who always protected me over, as if he loved me forever and never had the guts to admit it. I should have seen it. Did worthwhile to try dating him? I didn't know. As for the rest, I was sure I couldn't be in the same space with Matt anymore or I would kill him.
I thought of find Quinn and Rachel sleeping in their room when I got home, so I got scared when I entered my room and saw Quinn sleeping in my bed with my pajamas. I nudged her without kindness.
"Rach?" Quinn said sleepily.
"No, it's the evil twin."
"Wouldn't you sleep outside?" She opened her eyes this time. "Did something happen?"
"I changed my mind. Shouldn't you be sleeping in the other room with my sister?" I shook my head in disbelief. It was obvious that the two had fought. Or was there another reason? "I'm not thinking straight... I will take a shower and if you can make coffee..."
I went to my closet and got clean clothes. Despite being past two in the morning, I washed my hair and dried it but not the way it should. The warm water made me remember the bruises I got in the fight. I knew I was still under the influence of drugs, but at least I was able to have more clarity. I looked at my face and saw some bruisers. Oh shit. My sister certainly would ask me about. I brushed my teeth, I took off the taste of tequila with Listerine. I smiled to myself while wearing my old Stuyvesant t-shirt and pajama shorts.
Quinn was waiting for me in the kitchen with the coffee ready. We talked and I discovered the reason of find Quinn on my bed: a fight with Rachel was because of an unfounded gossip of a tabloid bum. Of course I defended the honor of my sister and sent Quinn to sleep on the sofa. I lay in my bed and made a promise to myself: no more weed, especially the ones from Matt.
…
(Quinn)
I woke up with a hell of a backache. Thank God my classes haven't started yet or I would miss some. Still, my agenda was unappetizing for my physical and mental state. I dragged myself to the left side of the apartment and found unlocked the door to my room. I entered cautiously, giving gentle taps on the door first. Rachel was up, frowning, making our bed, trying her best to ignore me. Her eyes were swollen from crying and I felt like hitting myself. Without saying a word, began to help her tidy the room.
"This pajamas is ridiculous on you!" She spoke with faltering voice.
"I had no choice but to pick something from your dwarf sister." Rachel allowed herself a laugh. "If it's a consolation for you, my back is really killing me."
"Good, objective reached."
"I deserved, I admit... but please, don't do it again." I approached myself and tried to take her hand, but Rachel rejected me. "Do you want me to kneel and beg for forgiveness? Because it would it be bad for my pride."
"You know what I want, Quinn. This goes far from mere excuses." She crossed her arms: always a bad sign.
"Okay." I leaned against the wall and sighed. "I die jealous of you, I admit. Sometimes I hold myself and, sometimes, like last night, I lose the reason with stupid things. I'm sorry, Rach. I promise I will try to work it inside me as best as possible because the last thing I want in this world is to hurt you."
"You improved. But that's not what I want."
"And what do you want?"
"To you trust me."
"But I do."
"No, you don't."
"I do trust you, Rachel! I really trust in your good character, in your sincerity, in your faithfulness. The problem is me, I admit, and I swear I will try to fix it... especially now that your career is only going to grow and gossip will come naturally. But try to understand that isn't a small thing, Rach, or easy."
Rachel uncrossed his arms and walked towards me. Then she kissed me.
"One step at a time, okay?" She held my hand and we kissed once more. "I always will honor you, Quinn Fabray. I understand that there are many things we need to work, but let's take one step at a time to not lose control."
I think I understand what Rachel meant by "one step at a time." Maybe Rachel didn't expect a sudden improvement, because it would be false and I could explode at an inopportune time. What she wants is my sincere effort. I swore to myself that I would try for my own good.
…
(Santana)
When I got up, Quinn was no longer in the house and Rachel was in gym clothes packing something in the kitchen. I crawled my feet over and leaned on the counter.
"Will you work out today?" There was a huge gym two blocks from our building.
"I've already gone" I frowned. "What happened to your face?"
"Got in a fight."
"What?" Her features have changed and she got worry.
"Nothing serious..." I tried to evade the issue. By Rachel's look, I knew it was a battle I could not win. "Matt... he... I don't know what happened exactly, Ray. I don't know if there was something else mixed in the weed or in my drink. But it was a strange experience I don't want to have again."
"And the fight?"
"Matt tried to take advantage of my state and there was some dose of violence..."
"Santy! This… did that bastard... he touched you? "Rachel panicked.
"That was his intention, but he couldn't get close. Andrew saved me."
"Andrew? That nerd who tries to develop apps?"
"The very one."
"Santana, we should go to the police. Matt drugged you and hurt you."
"Yeah, but I will have to explain to the cops that I bought the weed and we are in New York, not in Colorado. My argument won't get much good after that."
"Still."
"Look, I've already promised myself to be far, far way from Matt and his weed. We fought, Andrew helped me and that gang was over to me. I mean, really over!"
"I hope so, Santana, because this group of friends was never a good influence and I know you can make so much better that it."
"Bad things can make you learn faster. At least I know now who is my true friend."
"Andrew?"
"Yeah. And I think he loves me."
"And what do you feel about him?"
"Certainly I love him as a friend. I'm still confused if I would like him as a boyfriend. Andrew was the only guy in Columbia that ever approached me like a dog in heat."
"Glad to hear it. What you decide, Santy, I support you. But I want to kill Matt first."
"Don't worry about that bitch."
I took a glass of water before going to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, but still felt sick. So I went back to my room and tucked myself under the covers. I stared at the half-open curtain. Good thing the windows were all anti-noise. I didn't want to face the noise of the city. I just wanted some peace and silence. Rachel came into my room and slipped under the covers with me, being my big spoon.
"I'm still sick." I alerted her.
"My body is properly immunized." she put her arm around my waist.
"Apparently, this doesn't prevent your feet from getting cold." I complained, but it made Rachel hold me tighter. "I talked with Quinn yesterday after found her sleeping in my bed."
"She said she slept on the couch."
"True, but after I expelled her from my bed. Anyway, she made me a coffee and we talked about that tabloid gossip."
"That absurd tabloid gossip, you mean."
"I defended you, ok?"
"Thank you!" I felt Rachel's body relax a little. "She is so smart and clever, but she gets irrational when jealous." I turned my body to face Rachel. She was sad and it didn't surprise me. I wanted to beat Quinn by that.
"I don't know, Ray. People react differently when they are jealous. Papi grumbles..."
"You make revenge plans..."
"So do you... and grumbles... well... Quinn freaks out..."
"I know that look. Were you going to say anything more."
"Sometimes I think Quinn freaks out disproportionately. I'm not insinuating anything, Ray, but I have my reservations with it and you know it."
"Yeah?" Rachel tried to push a little more.
"I like your girl. It cost some time, and you know it. Today I see Quinn as part of the family. Except that this may change again if she hurts you somehow."
"Not going to happen!"
The conversation ended as soon as we hear the intercom. Rachel groaned and went to answer it, but in no time she was back.
"Andrew is going up."
"What?" I sat on the bed.
"Your possible future boyfriend is coming for a visit. You better wear something while I do some small talk, unless you prefer that I send him here."
"No!" I got up.
I took off my pajamas and put on a decent outfit, but still comfortable to stay home, then brushed my hair and put on some lipstick. When I left the room, I saw my sister talking to Andrew and the two seemed very cordial with each other. Despite the new house, I still allowed a few friends to visit me here: Andrew and Izabella were the only ones, and that was his second time here. I think I was afraid to let some guy join my intimacy. Call me idiot, but I felt that I was betraying Brittany if I open my heart to someone else. But after everything that happened, maybe it was time to move on.
"Hi nerd." I smiled sheepishly.
"Hi crazy."