End of Cycle

(Quinn)

The Short Film Festival was held over the week. In the first day there was an opening ceremony with a guest director to preside the jury. In the case, Pamela Fryman, director of all How I Met Your Mother episodes. There happed a special session with the winner in the previous year and one short film selected by the president of the jury before a debate about short-film market with the competitors students of the current edition of the festival. It was an interesting evening. The next day, at night, there was a presentation of some films and the competition begins.

"A Song For Quentin Tarantino" was displayed on the second competition night. The movie theater was crowded, but I managed to get into most of the people involved with my film. Johnny made shirts with Mike's caricature holding a pistol with smoke coming out of it. On the back was written the name of the movie and above the draw, with the smaller words: a short-film by Quinn Fabray. He charged $15 for each and sold all of them because its stamp was terrific. I knew Johnny worked on tattoo studio in Harlem, but it was a surprise when I knew that he actually could draw. I wore mine with pride.

When my film won the big screen, I was so nervous. I held Rachel's hand firmly and said a silent prayer. My body just started relax when the audience reacted as predicted. The laughs were "in place", shrieks, howls... and barely believed it when I saw the audience applauding in the end. People began to surround me, most congratulating, others wanted a chat, and also had the NYU's newspaper staff trying to drag me to the side for some statement to them. Gradually, I realized that the actors were also rounded up and I thanked the small uproar. It was surreal. I felt for one second like Tarantino.

"Thank you for excused your play today!" Rachel was getting ready for the awards night with a winter dress. It was the last weekend of ATU in New York before the play begins the tour in some cities of the country until January, when the contracts all over.

"I wouldn't miss this night for nothing in the world!" She ran her hand over my face, removing the little smudged of my lipstick with her thumb. "I loved that you have given up the idea of wearing Johnny's shirt. This dress falls even better on you." She gave me the good luck kiss before we left to the movie theater.

The theater was packed. As it was the awards night, there was had excess guests as an organization fail and many people were outside. I was told that the current festival edition was one of the most successful and had the best selection in years. I saw all the competing fiction short-films. I could say that at least five, including mine, were in the true running. There were speeches, blah, blah, blah. We had to hear more than 30 minutes of bullshit before they started announcing the winners of my category.

Best assembly and edit: Roger Benz for "A Song For Quentin Tarantino"

Applauses for the favorite. Roger was a hell of a professional with several years of experience. He might be a little rusty, but his talent was still there. And edit my film wasn't that easy. I noticed that Rachel just quietly applauded. She still had some feud with Roger to solve and, especially, with James. I knew this would have to go... someday. Roger went there in the stage to accept his award and thanked me for all the fun.

Best cinematography: Karl Antrin for "Stay Alive"

Modest applauses. I was disappointed because this was my truly place. Antrin was a star student of New York Film Academy and he was known as a promising cinematographer. Without sounding a bad loser, I sincerely disliked the film and it wasn't one of the favorites. "Stay Alive" was a melodramatic story shot in the bathroom with the character having existential dilemmas. It's just one of that films which Sociology students and intellectuals loved. But the lighting was really good.

Best Art Direction: Santiago Follett for "A Song For Quentin Tarantino"

I exploded with joy. Santiago was awarded in what he does best: visual art and set design. He developed a great storyboard, idealized the set as closely as possible with so little. He took the stage and I thought he would jump in the audience in the end. He was absolutely radiant.

Best Screenplay: William Satre for "Not a Good Day"

Another award that went to the right hands. My film had a good script, but "Not a Good Day" had the originality missing in mine. Satre drinks in the same water of Spike Jonze and he was truly talented.

Best actress: Rachel Berry for "A Song For Quentin Tarantino"

Rachel and I hugged and we almost kissed, but she turned her face just in time. My bad. I forgot for a second we weren't anonymous in the street or between friends in a pub or in a night club. Hide our relationship sucks, buts it was how the things were for the sake of her career.

The whole audience recognized the justice of the award. She was great and killed as the bitch former fiancée. Rachel had a great timing for comedy and led her character without falling into easy exaggerates faces, which I considered extremely difficult for an actor to master. For me, doing drama was always easier than doing comedy. While Rachel went up on stage to make her speech, I tried to look at the other guys. Santana, two rows behind mine, had a huge smile with tears in her eyes. Thinking about it, I realized that was Rachel's first award after she became a professional actress, ironically for a student film.

"I've never thought that would be so good playing a bitch that takes a bullet in the head at the end." Rachel pulled discrete audience laughter. "Now I'm hoping she will wake up from a coma after four years to revenge on her asian ex-boyfriend on the sequel." That's my girl: a nice Kill Bill reference. "I want to thank the entire cast and crew, mostly Quinn Fabray. She directed the film wonderfully even when half of the crew was in alcoholic coma." She got more audience laughter mixed with applause. "Thanks you."

Rachel came downstairs and I was eager to kiss her in front of everyone. I kissed her on the cheek instead and held her hand before sit down again.

Best Actor: Peter Antony for "Not a Good Day"

I felt sorry for Mike. He was amazing, but the jury thought Peter Antony was better. Not that it chose wrong. Like Mike and Rachel, Peter Antony was a professional actor and I assumed he was Satre's close friend to be on a college film. He was best known by his role at the CBS's freshman sitcom: "How I Lost You." I am not kidding. It's a quite good show that monk some of old formulas without forget its storyline. Peter Antony played just a supporting character but he was a scene stealer. I wasn't surprised when he killed on "Not a Good Day". But he didn't go to the award night and Satre accept the award just thanking his absent friend.

Best Director: William Satre for "Not a Good Day"

Rachel looked at me as if she wanted to give me some comfort. Yes, I was a bit sad for not taking the award, but I was glad it went to the truly best director. William Satre will be a big deal in a few years, I could feel it. He wrote a great script, was lucky to contact a perfect actor for the lead role and direct all masterfully.

In 3rd place: "The Ritual".

It was a very strong film about hazing at college, denouncing some horrible abuses.

In 2nd place: "A Song For Quentin Tarantino."

In cinema, it was the producer who accepted the award, so Santiago and I got up to accept the honorable 2nd place that would pay most of our investment. I felt good to see people applauding us. Unfortunately, only the winner could say the speech.

In 1st place: "Not a Good Day."

William received the well-deserved award. I was happy for him and happy with the good things that the festival presented. But the night wasn't over.

"And the Robert Flanders Awards (aka the popular jury choice) goes to: "A Song For Quentin Tarantino"

I did not believe! I knew my film became popular and was widely reported on the Festival, and Johnny sold out the t-shirts... but it was a genuine surprise. I've never expected these things could happen to me. I decided to break protocol and called the entire staff for the stage, as in the Golden Globe.

"It was great to direct all this wonderful crew and cast, half of whom, as well Rachel remembered, was in alcoholic coma. I could put the bodies on the floor and doing multiple takes without fear of continuity errors." Applause and laughter. "The bar owner loved us. He said we should always shoot in Keanburg... but seriously, I would like to thank everyone who stood by mine and Santiago's side in this adventure. Thank you!"

Santiago also took the microphone to say something. I didn't remember what. I was too busy hugging everyone.

After the party we made at a pub, Rachel and I went home alone, thanks to Santana that decided sleep with her boyfriend in his place. I realized that Rachel and awards matched very well: they were lit and radiant. I closed the door and started our private celebration.

…

"Are you sure that you got everything? Toothbrush, extra coat?"

"Yes, mommy." Santana said in a bored voice.

"And your flight ticket?"

"It is right here. All I need to know now is if whether will help."

"They say the storm won't reach New York until the next 48 hours."

"So, I don't have to worry!"

"Don't forget to call me when you arrive in Cleveland."

"Okay." Santana grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. "I'll be back on Monday if weather allows, ok? You won't get that much time without me."

"Not that I'm going to miss you." But I would. "Rachel is very worried about you..."

"Ok, Fabray." she cut me off. "Got it." She gave me a kiss on the cheek when the cab honked. "Be save and happy Hanukkah!"

There Santana goes. She would spend the weekend at her grandparents' house to celebrate Hanukkah. I barely disguised to Santana that I didn't want to be alone and, of course, she mocked me, and so I felt like hitting myself. But it was too bad to take the elevator, get home and see an empty apartment. Sometimes, the silence and the solitude can be devastating, especially with a storm coming. Rachel was on tour with Across the Universe cast and she would travel for almost two months, until her contract is over in the end of January. It hurt when I realized that I only would see her at Christmas and on the little break after Las Vegas gig in the middle of January.

I was hoping to keep myself busy as much as I could without Rachel. As much as I hated to admit, I was getting too co-dependent with my girlfriend, like one of these couples that can't live apart for some days. Rachel was gone for three days and I was already missing her company, her laugh, her annoyance, her diva attitude. The way she talks about Broadway and how much she was right about everything, even though she was wrong. I was missing just talking with her in our bed before cuddle to sleep. And, soon, I would start missing to have sex with her. When I back home after said goodbye to Santana, the impression I had was that the place was huge. Lucky me, I had to work. I took the subway towards the village and went to the office expecting another day of nightmares due to the production of a new play and hear more gossip from "The Saint Woman" set.

"Good morning, Quinn." The secretary greeted me with a grin. It was never was a good sign. "You have meeting with Roger today after lunch."

"Roger is in the city?" He spent the weekend on the set in Canada.

"He arrived yesterday."

"Do you know what it is about?"

"This, my dear, I can't say." I hated these playthings information from Virginia. She knew everyone's life inside that office, everything came through her ears, that's why she is a teaser and one of the most dangerous persons in that office.

"By chance, I'm not being fire, right? We heard stories about Gabriela leaving and some other cuts." Fear of unemployment always scared everybody.

"I'm not really allowed to discuss it" She was serious. "Just be sure to be here."

I had lunch at the restaurant near the office with a co-worker. I ordered salad, which would proudly Rachel, and tried to know more information about the current R&J situation, but I got nothing. All I knew was about Gabriela leaving, the new play, Songbook and the movie pos-production. So, I tried a nice move buying apples to everyone in the office. The nicest ones were the hardest to fire, right?

"Hey, Fabray."

"Hello, boss." I smiled and offered him an apple, which he accepted. "So, what's up?"

"Close the door please?" So I did it and waited. "Have you heard about Gabriela?"

"That she was thinking about quit?"

"More or less. You know, Fabray, R&J will pass for some restructuring here in the office to optimize the management. Gabriela is a great professional, but she asked too much to keep working with us and we decided it was for the better to release her so she can seek others opportunities. Since we still need to do some cuts, I'm wondering if can you do her job and yours earning 10% more?"

"Of course." I thought I said too quickly.

"Nice. Then you can start updating right now. Thank you Fabray."

"You're welcome."

I left his office room relieved. I have more work to do, but, at least, I kept my job.

…

Because of the storm, nobody went to work at R&J on that Friday. Half of the city cancelled shows, events and the market closed sooner. The TV was alerting the population to buy food, water and batteries, and try to stay safe at home. So, I spent the day doing the cleaning alone, since Santana was in Cleveland and Rachel in Houston. I cleaned all the kitchen cabinets, my room, Santana's room, the two bathrooms, the living room, I did the laundry and ironing some dresses. While performing the job, I tried to choose a good soundtrack to play and chose Adele, Joss Stone, PJ Harvey, Coldplay, Imagine Dragons along with other bands. But when I started singing Celine Dion's "All By Myself" with all the force of my lungs with a chocolate bar in one hand, I decided I needed to do something. That's when my phone rang.

"Hey, Mike!"

"Quinn. What are you doing?"

"Nothing important. As you know, Rachel is on tour and Santana is in Cleveland at her grandparents. It's Hanukkah, and I'll spend this important Jewish date alone!"

"But aren't you Christian?" He laughed. "Well, I just formulate a plan against your loneliness. Broadway is canceled because of the snowstorm, so what do you think about to come to my place to make some small talk?"

"I don't know, Mike. If you go to your place, I wouldn't be able to come back since the public transport will be suspended and I doubt that taxi drivers will take risks."

"You can sleep here. Bring your PJ."

"And your new girl? That one who owns that coffee shop in Long Beach?"

"She's not my girl, it's just an affair, a two times thing. But can I ask her... and Johnny. We can eat pasta and drink wine."

"Pasta and wine?"

"And movies or sitcoms. You choose. Come, please. It won't be nice to be alone during the storm. And I bought extra Hot & Spicy Pringles."

"Can be. I'll arrive in an hour."

Yes, I do like Hot & Spicy Pringles. At least I had somewhere to go and no longer needed to pathetic singing Celine Dion at the corners. This music only sounded good with Rachel anyway. I decided to get warm clothes and put in my bag a PJ and extra clothes in case I have to spend one more day with Mike. His place wasn't so far away from mine, and our neighborhoods were practically next to another. I got in his apartment and found Mike alone.

"Doesn't your girlfriend come? Or Johnny?" I asked after Mike served me with a glass of wine.

"I called her, and also Johnny. She said she was in a friend's house in New Jersey. Johnny said he will stay in the Bronx. I even thought to call Angela and other friends we have in common, but I got nothing."

"So I think we'll be just us."

A positive feature in my friendship with Mike is that, however as much womanizer he was, I felt comfortable being alone with him, after all, I was talking with my best friend. He promised pasta and cooked a great one with white sauce, bacon and cheese. While we watched the news reporting on the weather situation, I answered text messages from my mom and Rachel. Messages that basically said to keep myself safe.

"How about a movie?" Mike suggested.

"What is your suggestion?"

"Wolf of Wall Street?"

"Watching again Leonardo DiCaprio doing cocaine in the asshole of some prostitute? No thank you."

"But it's a great movie."

"It's an overrated movie, if you ask me. DiCaprio does nothing but screaming and making stoned faces while a lot of men fuck women like dogs. It's more honest watching porn."

"I have porn!" Mike laughed. "And a good collection of girls in action if you ask me."

"Really? And where are they?"

"Do you want to watch porn with me?"

"No, but I'm curious since I see none along with the films from the shelf."

Mike opened a drawer and there were films that he kept away from visitors eyes. I didn't comment, but I assumed that there were at least 40 titles, which didn't surprise me.

"That's... kinda gross, Mike, seriously!"

"They are more entertaining than the crap from internet. I even have Deep Throat. It's a classic." He took the box and showed me the film.

"I saw the film about Linda Lovelace. Reasonable."

"But you never saw the movie itself?"

"Mike, if you haven't noticed, watching a girl doing blowjobs isn't exactly what I call exciting."

"Deep Throat is an object of study, Quinn. It isn't made just for masturbation."

"Sincerely, Mike. I'm not like talking about sex. Let's see The Blacklist. At least it is a good show."

Talking about sex jokingly at the bar table could be fun, but it's not wise when you are drinking wine with a man at his own house, even though this man is your best friend. Things can get weird. As much as Mike didn't concern me, he was heterosexual and would normally get excited and hard just talking about it with a woman, even if the girl was me: his lesbian best friend. It was the kind of reaction that would constrain both and our friendship didn't need it. So, we started to watch the TV series.

"Rachel is frightened by the news about a death in New York." I commented on the latest message I received from my girlfriend.

"She said what?"

"Somebody died because of the storm. And I suggested her to keep far away from the news."

"At least we are safe. So, her tour is doing well?"

"I think so. The R&J wants to explore the original cast before the contract ends next month. But Rachel is getting tired of ATU. She is doing the same play eight times a week for a year. She told me once she was thinking on not renew the contract even though ATU will have another season with some changes in the cast. The problem is that nobody offers to her something worthwhile, and Rachel doesn't want another supporting role on Broadway. She said she only does an audition now to play the protagonist."

"This is the Rachel Berry-Lopez I know." Mike smiled.

"If she said she has now a resume good enough to bargain more important roles and her agent agree with her, who am I to say otherwise? I just think that, in the mean time, unless you're a big star already consolidated in the market with millions in the save box, you have to keep working. No one can afford to be unemployed these days, except, maybe, Santana."

"Somewhat I agree with you, Quinn. But an actor need some time off to breathe in order to prepare for other characters. Otherwise you take the risk of becoming a same-face kind of actor, like those guys that only play the hero in action movies. You can even earn a lot of money for some time if your movies have a good box-office, but the consequence of not reinventing yourself and not taking risks can be cruel. That's why time to refresh your image is essential."

"It could be... anyway, we aren't in a position to dispense money for the sake of refresh the image. Rachel has many expenses and you know how it is. Not to mention she needs to pay Santana's part of the house's costs. It's not cheap. I do my part, but the money left to save isn't much."

I finished drinking my fourth glass of wine and I felt dizzy. Mike offered me his bed, but I preferred the couch. He gave me a pillow, a sheet and a blanket for me to sleep. But I couldn't. The noise from the icy wind against the window didn't let me relax, and more, the couch was small and uncomfortable to spend the night on. Still, I kept my eyes closed, counting lambs. That's when I realized that Mike left his bedroom and came into the kitchen. I kept my eyes closed for a minute. Maybe Mike wanted to take a glass of water and if he see me awake, he would be concerned and feel obligate to keep me company. So I kept my eyes closed. To my surprise, Mike sat down in the chair next to the couch. I heard him sighing and calling me, but I didn't answer.

"Do you know Quinn?" he said softly and low, almost whispering, "You always ask me why I can't sign with a woman for more than two or three dates. I even try, don't you know? But neither of them is like you. I love you, Quinn Fabray. I didn't love you back to school. I thought you were mean, evil, and got what you deserved when Puck knocked you up. But after that we actually know each other and live together here in New York, I saw how much you are wonderful and beautiful inside and outside... I tried, Quinn... I tried not to fall in love. But I did. Unfortunately I don't have the certain parts of the body to make you like me. Unfortunately, Rachel is your endgame. It sucks for me, right? I know I am a coward to confess it when you are sleeping but I can't say it to you face to face. It would ruin us… I read somewhere that if you say things to someone in its sleep, the information is recorded in the subconscious. Weird, right? I think I just want you to know, somehow, that I love you with all my heart, that I accept you are with Rachel because I praise your happiness, and you can count on me to everything you need. If I can't have you as my lover, at least I can have you in my life as my best friend."

Mike stood up from his chair, gave me a kiss on my head and went back to his room. I got up from the couch and started my hand through my hair. I've never expected this.

…

December 19, 2014

"Happy birthday!" I jumped in Santana's bed, who grunted loudly, and I started tickling her.

"Fabray!" She let out a scream. "Get out!"

"What is it? The little girl woke up in the wrong side of the bed? Maybe your 20 years old are ruining even more your dog humor."

"You should save your energy for the other twin…" She tried to cover her head once more.

"I always save my energy for the other twin, but she is currently in Seattle. Unfortunately to you, I need to celebrate a birthday today and you are the closest thing that remind me her. Then wake up 'cause I got gifts!"

"Gifts as in the plural?" Santana grinned.

"Why do you only move by interest?"

I left Santana's room and she took almost 15 minutes to get up and dragged herself to the bathroom. Theoretically, it was the last day of the semester in college before the winter break. I wouldn't go there, though, because I had nothing to do there but talk with Santiago about out next project together. Santana also wasn't sure if she would go to Columbia in her birthday. What I knew was that I was going to enjoy my morning at home and celebrate the birth of the person I loved most in this world next to Beth, even if I had to do this through her twin sister. So I did everything that I would have done to my Rachel: a special vegetarian breakfast, gifts and uncompromising good conversation.

I bought a special birthday present for Rachel, but I would only have a chance to give it to her on Christmas. For Santana, I bought a nice pair of earrings and the t-shirt with a stylized David Bowie stamp that she saw in a store the other day and didn't bought it because she had no money. Santana spent the last month quite broke, with just the money to eat in the Columbia's restaurant and for transportation.

"What a beautiful meal. And I'm not being sarcastic this time."

"Sit down Miss Berry-Lopez." Santana laughed as she sat at our new table that I bought with the money Santiago and I won for our short-film.

"Okay, as long as you do not want to kiss me at the end."

"I love you, S, but you definitely aren't your sister."

"It is my impression or this breakfast is vegetarian?"

"But everything is tasty, believe me. I followed all the recipes step by step so we could honor Rachel from a distance."

We had bread warmed in the skillet with olive oil, banana with caramel, white cheese, red fruit jelly, orange juice and cupcakes that I made and put a cherry on top. Santana smiled and began to serve herself.

"What are your plans for today?" I asked.

"Amazingly, I have nothing planned. I was thinking of calling our friends for a pizza and then dance in that night club in the Village. What do you think?"

"I'm on it. It's your and Rachel's day."

"Great… so… did you call my sis?"

"I called to her yesterday evening when you were asleep. She said she would like to talk to you still in the morning. I think she sent you a text."

"Good to know. Did I tell you that I ran into Paul yesterday?" Santana said with her mouth full.

"Paul? Your ex-boyfriend?" She nodded. "Really? How was it?"

"He was on campus visiting his girlfriend. I think he will spend the holidays in New York. "

"And Andrew?"

"I was alone at the time and Andrew doesn't know about him. Well, not that Paul was that important in my life." She had a point. Paul was almost a peasant. "But I was glad to see him as well. He seemed really happy beside the girl."

"Ironic that he got a girlfriend in the same college that once he lost you."

"This is silly. Paul was a nice friend in Stuyvesant and, yes, we dated, but that was it. He is a decent guy, though."

"Decent, but pretty boring!" I started laughing remembering him: the Weasley boring guy.

"Yeah, he is pretty boring."

"At least Andrew is a cute nerd."

"You say that because of the few extra pounds he has? That's his charming, Fabray. And you can't deny that he's cute."

"He's a cute chubby."

"He is far from being fat. He just has one or two extra pounds."

"You know what? That's what you got by calling Finn fat during all our junior year."

"Now you are defending that guy. Seriously, Fabray?"

"No, I dislike Finn. I'm just saying that you are paying for your tongue. Finn was a little chubby that time and you made fun of him. Now, you are dating a guy as chubby as Finn was."

"Ok, Andrew is a little out of shape, but nothing that a month working out and salad can't solve. And he is still cute."

"Since you can support his weight…"

"That's why I'm always on the top, silly." Santana laughed.

"I don't need to hear that, Santana Berry-Lopez." I complained, but our small talk was funny.

My phone ringed with Rachel's music. It was her text. My heart was pounding.

"Call me in the Skype if you can" - Rachel

Rachel appeared on my screen. I wanted hug and kiss her so bad. I was missing her so much.

"Happy birthday, my pretty lady!" I said as soon as I had the chance and saw that beautiful face smiling.

"Good morning, my Quinn. And thank you."

"I was dying to see you today. I fixed breakfast in your honor."

"Truth." Santana appeared within sight, putting her chin on my shoulder. "This is bullshit, Ray, I was craving for a fried egg and she made me eat fruit!"

"Come on, she's lying."

"You're never satisfied, Santy." Rachel kept smiling. "And happy birthday to you, sis."

"Happy birthday to you too, shorty. Well, you girlfriend made the breakfast but let the dishes on me. I will take care of that. Call you later." And Santana let us alone.

"So…" Rachel said. "Can we talk alone?"

"Yeah. I'm going to our room."

"Good girl!"

…

There were many things I would anticipate about my job since I have too much to do after Gabriela had left R&J. The truth was that I was kind frustrated working on bureaucracy when I could be seeking other opportunities to develop my experience in cinematography. That's what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I needed that job, I needed to pay my rent and bills. And I was seriously thinking about go to one ophthalmologist to check my eyes. Like Santana, I think I needed some glasses to read on the computer screen. I came home stressed out with R&J stuffs and all I wanted was to take a bath. I found Santana at home. She was with her glasses that made her looks like a hipster.

"Studying already? I thought your college classes wouldn't start until next week."

"And you're right." Santana closed her computer. "I was just checking some things, not studying… yet."

"Did Rachel call?" I asked because she didn't call me and I was missing it.

"She called in the morning." Santana looked over her glasses. I hated when she do that.

"What she said?"

"Mine and Rachel's business, actually... but she asked about you and I said you're fine." She opened her computer again. "Oh, Andrew sent me the beta version of the game he is working on. Do you want to try it?"

"Since when do you test games?"

"Well, it's what my boyfriend does for living and I support him. And it's fun. He's developing now an APP with his business partner with a potential to make him a rich man."

"Still, Santana Berry-Lopez testing games?"

"I'm not an expert. I just have to say if the game is fun and easy to play. I'm not the one that looks for bugs and technical stuffs."

I went to take a shower after a long day at the office. R&J was starting to produce the new play and, man, this initial process sucks. At that time, I was an average secretary taking notes during the meetings and organizing everything, so James won't be lost. The worst thing was working close to James. Roger was nice and a human being. James was rude, like a male hetero version of Cruella De Vil, that treats very bad the ones he doesn't like. I was quite sure he didn't like me, maybe because I'm gay and dating one of the actress under R&J contract. Two days ago, he screwed this girl inside his office room, thank God nobody have to watched it, and in the end of day, his girlfriend went to the office to take him to diner. I know he was well related on the Broadway world and a top producer, but he was still gross. At least Roger kept his dirty far from the office and we became friends.

"Fabray, connects your fucking skype. Rachel is online." Santana said when I got out of my room. "She seems worried."

So I did it immediately.

"Hi!" Rachel's face wasn't good. She looked haggard. I got worried.

"It's all right out there?"

"Heather had to be rushed to the hospital. I'm still shaking."

"Appendicitis?"

"Overdose! Everybody knew she was doing cocaine, but as far as we knew, it was casual. But she started acting like crazy during the tour, and today Lucas found her unconscious in her hotel room with a needle beside. Quinn, it was horrible. I've never been so willing to take the plane and go home."

"I figure. Is she okay now?"

"Molly, Karl and Nick are in the hospital. They said she's stabilized." Molly was the tour manager and Karl was the publicist. I didn't know him very well, but as far as I knew, he didn't mind spreading dubious facts about the cast to promote the play. Nobody took off my mind that he was responsible for selling the gossip to the tabloids about Rachel and Lucas. "Quinn, they are accusing me."

"What? Why?"

"I had a fight with Heather yesterday. Our performance was horrible, so I argued with the cast in the backstage after the play and Heather accused me want to replace her in front of everyone. And today, this happened." Rachel was panicking.

"Rachel, listen, it was horrendous. I'm so sorry for what happened to Heather, but you can't feel responsible. It wasn't you the one who injected hard drugs in your vein. She did it by herself, no matter what happened before between you two. You aren't responsible!" I said with more emphasis.

"Still, Quinn, it was horrible."

"I can imagine. What will happen now?"

"The play was canceled today even though the understudy is here. Nobody is in condition to work today. I don't know what will happen in Las Vegas next week... it's all very confusing."

"And the break of the tour will happen after Las Vegas, right?" Rachel nodded positive. "Rachel, look, get away from any discussion and pray for Heather, ok? Blame and guilt won't solve anything."

"I wanted to be there with you now." I felt she was getting quieter.

"And I, with you."

…

Rachel arrived on Monday in the late afternoon as planned. I, of course, picked her up at the airport only to bring her home as quickly as possible. It was nice that we had I car, thanks to Rachel's grandparents. My heart sank when I saw her serious and tired face. We kissed quickly in the airport lounge and walked away when I saw tears on her face.

"Rachel?"

"I'm Just glad that I'm home."

I didn't hesitate to help her with the baggage. We walked hand in hand into the parking lot and I drove carefully at that crazy New York traffic. Rachel remained silent, staring out the window. When we got home, I gave her some space so she could take a bath while Santana and I fixed a snack. She came into the kitchen with wet hair and seemed ready to talk.

"After Heather's overdose, the climate among the cast became untenable. One began to accuse the other in Las Vegas and our performance was... almost a disaster." Then she took a deep breath. "Sarah became dissatisfied and left the tour before the last gig. Steve, Nick, Lucas and I had an ugly argument, Nick and Steve punched each other... I don't know what will happen to us and the play... they say we'll have a meeting about this at the R&J office."

I pulled her into a hug. I could only imagine the pain and frustration she was feeling. After all, it was a year dedicated to this play and she worked very hard. She and Sarah was the most assiduous actors in the cast, being absent only in a few days during the whole year. Heather, the great star, had a break for two months to being in a comedy teen movie, and so as Steve, who had a break to stressed out for two weeks. Come on!

In the next day, I only could imagine the hell waiting for me in the office. ATU was a major source of money and James and Roger would do everything to keep the pot of gold. After lunch and NYU classes, as always, I took the subway to work. My heart was apprehensive. Outside the door, I could already hear the cries of the discussion. I walked in hesitantly. Roger called me into his office, where I went trying to ignore all the eyes on me.

"I consider you a friend, Fabray, that's why I want to give this bad news by my own. I had a meeting with James, Steve and the sponsors and agents guys. Steve, Heather and their people agreed to do the play for one more month then we made the complete transition to the new cast. But there is a condition: Rachel Berry is out. We won't renew her contract."

"Of course I can't speak to her, but I don't think she will care that much. Still, may I know why? She is a great professional and rarely missed a show."

"I figured. Rachel is a great actress, but she has this diva temper, too perfectionist for the cast sake, and she her relationship with the main stars dropped hard in the last months." He took a long breath. "Fabray, there is another thing."

"What is it?"

"You're fired." I jumped from the chair. My heart raced and I was so surprised that I didn't have any reaction for a minute.

"Why am I fired?" I managed to say after the initial chock. "What did I do wrong?"

"James thinks it will affect your work here because of the nature of your relationship with Rachel Berry."

"You're firing me because I'm her girlfriend?"

"I'm so sorry. I agreed to not renew with Rachel, but in your case, I was outvoted."

"That's ok, Roger, I understand. In such circumstances, I would resign anyway. But I'm grateful that you did before because now you have to pay all my compensations." I said with a horrible bitter taste in my mouth.

"Fabray..."

"Thanks for everything. Thank you for becoming a kind of mentor to me. But this time I want to R&J, James and Steve go to hell."

"I understand..."

"I'm glad you do."

"If you need some help to find another job, maybe I can help."

"Thanks, but don't. Not know, anyway. Bye Roger."

I went to the warehouse and grabbed a cardboard box to keep my stuffs. I returned my cell phone of the company to the guy who control it let with the secretary my computer's password, so, they could saw all the job I've done. I said goodbye to my co-workers and left without looking back. I closed my eyes as I reached the sidewalk. New York seemed more daunting when you're unemployed with bills to pay. I took a deep breath hoping to the city didn't devours me all the way home.