chapter three: i wish i could tell you that i want you more than that, but this is not a love song
Quinn hadn't slept all night. She'd tried, curled up on her office couch at three am, to get what little rest she could before filming started again, but sleep was allusive.
As soon as she'd slip into a slumber, she'd see Rachel. It was the same heart pounding dream over and over again. Rachel, asleep on her arms, and Quinn, trailing her fingers across her cheek. She'd let her touch move to Rachel's throat, where her hand would come up wet and sticky, covered in blood. Then Rachel's eyes were open, blank and dead as a scream froze in Quinn's throat.
She'd wake up with a jolt, only five minutes later and repeated the process several times before giving up.
Quinn's hands shook as she poured herself another glass of whiskey. All she could think about was Rachel. Rachel's fingertips circling her waist, the taste of her kiss, her sure confidence that Quinn wanted to be kissed as much as Rachel wanted to kiss her.
She hadn't been wrong.
But Quinn wasn't Chet, she couldn't just fuck her second in command and pretend like it was nothing. It was Rachel.
Throwing back her drink in one go, Quinn willed the alcohol to dull her emotions. She wanted to stop feeling like a rose was blooming in her chest, with its soft petals hiding sharp thorns underneath that cut deeper than expected.
Now there was that inane letter to worry about, the threat, the photos…
It wasn't the first time Quinn had gotten a death threat, there were always people who thought that their heartbreak was her fault, but this one felt realer, more personal. It wasn't blackmail, it was just a threat.
Plus there were the photos. She couldn't look at them without feeling sick, so they were locked in a drawer. But the fact of the matter was that someone had the dedication to follower her into the woods and wait for hours to capture the perfectly incriminating shots.
In the wrong hands the photos could break their careers. Maybe men could get away with shit like this most of the time, but Quinn? Even with Gary gone, Quinn was still felt like she was on a tightrope. Ratings had been good last season but not amazing, not suicide ratings; she wasn't totally safe.
All Quinn wanted to do was to go to Rachel's trailer and curl up on that horrible, tiny cot next to her and sleep for three days. She wanted to listen to Rachel's heartbeat and feel her breathing.
Pressing the heels of her hands against her eyelids, Quinn groaned, trying to quell her racing thoughts. She took a deep breath. She had a show to produce.
…
Rachel fell asleep quickly and woke up groggy, with mascara tear trails on her face. There hasn't been enough time between the end of shooting and the start of the next day's work for Rachel to even think about driving an hour to get home, so in her trailer she stayed.
She checked her face in the hand mirror she'd thrown in her bag the day before. Rachel expected to see fingerprint-like bruises circling her jaw but Quinn's grip hadn't left any visible marks. She wished it had. She wished Quinn could see the pain her rejection had inflicted.
Instead, she wiped away her mascara tears on the back of her sleeve, pulling her hair into a messy bun as she quickly changed.
But the bad memories that stained the walls of her home away from home held felt like dirt on her skin. Pulling up the door of the trailer, she filled the musty interior with already too bright sunshine.
Rachel was surprised to find a very sturdy looking man in black standing outside her truck. After giving him the once over, she approached him.
"Hey there," she said, having to shade her eyes and tilt her head back to see his face.
He made no reply.
"Whatchya doing here?"
"Ms. King has instructed me to monitor anyone going and coming from this truck," he replied.
"So you're security?"
"Yes ma'am," he said.
Rachel made a face, confusion etching her features as she looked him over again. It was obvious to her that he was just a yes-man, and she wasn't going to get anything useful from him.
With a backwards glance, she walked off towards the control room, via craft services.
…
Quinn kept her eyes focused on the board of contestants as Rachel slipped in. She felt her presence, like a sonar beep, beep, beeping as Rachel got closer in proximity.
"Rachel, so glad you could join us," Quinn said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "While you were enjoying your beauty sleep, I was getting a head start on fixing your little stunt."
"If you don't want me here I can leave," Rachel snapped, "You're the one who told me when filming started again."
"You can have Vanessa," Quinn said, ignoring Rachel's comment, "Since she hates me so much, maybe she'll like you better, especially after you brought her ex dance partner and rumored ex boyfriend on set."
Rachel crossed her arms and leaned against one of the desks, "Who are the wifeys?"
"Kara, Jillian, James, and," Quinn paused, "Mike."
Madison tried to argue for another one of her girls, but Quinn wasn't listening. Instead, when she turned to glance over her shoulder, Rachel was staring at her.
"Their fan base has been wanting them together for years, it'll bring the views. You brought him here, we might as well use the meat puppet for ratings. Why don't you go talk Vanessa into kissing him? Because you're so good at that."
"That's not fair," Rachel said through gritted teeth. They both knew that Quinn wasn't talking about producing and by the look on Rachel's face, she'd managed to strike her mark.
"Oh come on," Quinn rolled her eyes, "I'm complimenting you on your job, now go do it!"
And just as she'd turned to look at Rachel, she looked away, not wanting to see her wipe her eyes on the back of her sleeve as she went to go find Vanessa.
…
Some days, Rachel believed that Quinn should have been a surgeon. She had the stomach for gore, eyes like an X-ray seeing through Rachel in an instant, and the words that formed between her lips cut like a knife. They went past her skin, beneath her ribs, and straight to her heart, leaving her feeling gutted more often than not.
Her fingernails were too short to leave half moon cuts on her palms, so as she walked she clenched her fists as tight as possible without fear of drawing blood.
Quinn had a way of cutting through her. They were too alike, understood each other too well, to escape it. And while Rachel usually used her words like a needle,injecting her desires straight into people's bloodstream, Quinn welded them like a sword, cutting down anyone in her way.
It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, Rachel repeated over and over again in her mind, I didn't talk her into kissing me, she did it herself, she wanted to.
The idea that anyone could produce Quinn into something she didn't want was laughable, and somewhere, in the deep redresses of Rachel's mind, she knew that, but it didn't make the insinuation hurt any less.
Reaching the door to the suitresses suit, Rachel knocked lightly, "Vanessa?"
"It's open!" called a voice from the inside.
Opening the door and stepping in, Rachel found Vanessa Lexington on the floor doing sit-ups on a yoga mat.
Rachel raised her eyebrows. She didn't think Vanessa looked like she needed to work out at all, not the based on the way her cropped workout top showed off her abs. Her gaze was momentarily drawn there though, as Vanessa finished her workout.
"You're not Quinn," Vanessa said once she'd finished. She laid on her back for a moment to catch her breath before getting up and offering a hand, "I'm Vanessa. I guess you already knew that."
"Rachel," she said as she shook Vanessa's hand, "I'm a producer here on Everlasting as well. Quinn sent me to chat with you before we shoot."
Vanessa bit her lip, "Quinn isn't coming?"
"No, she said you two had a difference of opinion and thought I might be better suited to work with you."
"Oh no," Vanessa's face dropped, "she's mad at me isn't she? I was going to apologize for yelling yesterday, everything was just so overwhelming."
Rachel reached out to touch her arm, "Hey, don't beat yourself up over it, the first day is always chaotic. There might be something you can do to make it up to Quinn though."
"Really? What is it? I really want to make this work. It's kind of my last chance, you know?"
"So the thing is," Rachel guided them both to sit on the bench at the end of the bed, "Quinn was pretty upset about yesterday. But I think she'd really like it if you kissed someone today."
"Like a peck on the cheek? I can do that."
"That would be nice," Rachel said, adding some hesitation to her tone. She dragged out the last word, glancing down.
"Isn't that good enough?" Vanessa asked, concern written all throughout her features.
"It's just if you really want to show Quinn that you're dedicated to this, you might want to really go for it. Like pick your favorite and give them a really romantic kiss," Rachel carefully watched Vanessa's reaction.
"But I hardly know any of these people, I don't have a favorite yet!"
"What about Mike? I mean you know him already, and I've seen the skating routines you guys have done- it gets pretty hot and heavy," Rachel patted Vanessa's leg before standing up, "Why don't you think about while you get ready okay? I'll see you out there in twenty?"
"Okay, yeah, yeah I'll think about it."
"Great! This would really mean a lot to Quinn," Rachel said, flashing Vanessa a smile as she closed the door behind her.
Outside, the familiar din felt like white noise to Rachel. She wove in and out of crew, ducking mic booms and dodging faceless crew members. The absence of Jeremy was a welcome feeling. With him gone, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she couldn't stand up straight yet, but she was lighter.
Slipping mostly unnoticed through the crew, she found Madison conducting a group interview with a handful of the men. Rachel leaned against one of the pillars, listening as the younger producer tried to draw reactions from the group of brawny men, Michael Concord included.
"Do did you feel last night went?" Asked Madison, "Why don't you start James?"
"I felt like everything went really well," James said with a smile, "Vanessa is a really great woman and I think it's great that she's confident enough in her sexuality to be doing this."
"What do you mean?" Madison prompted.
"I'm bisexual as well," James shrugged, "so it's great to see someone like me represented on an iconic tv show like this."
Troy Tremblay's lip twitched, and slight movement didn't escape Rachel's watchful eye. She leaned over to one of the camera men.
"Hey zoom in on Troy, okay?" She whispered.
Madison missed the subtle flicker of expression though, and moved on with her line of questioning, "How about you Ritchie? What did you think about stepping out of that limo to see your competition?"
"I was kinda confused, I'd seen a Vanessa in photos and on tv and stuff but when I saw all these girls it threw me," said Ritchie, "but after that it was cool. Vanessa and me, we hit it off."
"That's so great!" Madison smiled and Rachel rolled her eyes. This interview was a snore fest and Quinn obviously wasn't in the control room, otherwise she'd be yelling over that walkie so loud that it would be pointless, Madison would be able to hear her without it.
Rachel grabbed a PA, "Count to fifty, then go get Vanessa, okay?"
With her plan set in motion, Rachel directed one of the other cameras to point at Mike. He already had his arms crossed and was glaring around the circle.
"Hey Troy," Rachel stepped behind Madison, earning herself a glare that she waved off, "I'm sure a guy like you had some thoughts on Vanessa's sexuality, right? I mean, you were the first man she met, after Ashley of course. You looked pretty surprised."
"That was a dirty trick not telling us she's a- a- you know! One of those!" Snarled Troy, his face turning red.
James shook his head, getting up to storm off. One of the cameras left to follow.
"And there's both guys and girls here, it's a lot," Rachel nudged.
"It's greedy that's what it is," Troy said angrily, "Someone needs to show her what a real man is and then she'll forget all about liking women."
"That's ridiculous," Mike said, "And that is definitely not how being bi works."
"Oh please, you're too much of a girly man to know," Troy fired back, standing up, "you with your tights and ice skating, you're probably not man enough to try to fuck her, right?"
"Do not talk about her like that," Mike's voice was low and gruff as he stood.
"Guys, guys, let's try to calm down," Ritchie said, holding up his hands, but no one was paying attention. Instead the swarm of camera crew were documenting every second from every angle.
Rachel grabbed Madison by the arm and pulled her out of fist swinging range while glancing behind her. The PA had just arrived with Vanessa in tow.
"Get her!" Rachel hissed at one of the camera crew, nodding towards a shocked looking Vanessa.
"What's the matter, pretty boy? Sparkly tights in a bunch because I'm going to fuck your carpet munching girlfriend?" Troy taunted.
"I said don't talk about her like that!" Mike swung, hitting Troy right in his stupid mouth.
Troy staggered back before turning and swinging at Mike. But Mike was expecting it, dodging and letting him tilt, off balance towards to couches. Mike shoved him.
"Security! We need security by the pool!" Madison cried as Ritchie tried to get between Mike and Troy.
But Troy had been embarrassed and he was out for blood. Pushing Ritchie aside he swung at Mike and connected, fist to jaw. Vanessa screamed. Behind Rachel there was a crater of heels as Quinn ran up to join them.
"What the fuck?" Quinn wrapped a hand around Rachel's wrist, asking her specifically.
"Just watch," Rachel grinned. She felt Quinn relax her grasp, but not quite let go, fingertips pressed against her tattoo. Rachel's heartbeat fluttered beneath the ink; she was high on producing and the warmth of Quinn's touch.
"Stop! Stop it!" Vanessa cried as Ritchie and some crew men pulled Troy and Mike apart.
"Nessie!" Mike gasped.
"He attacked me!" Troy tried but Vanessa glared at him.
"I heard enough to know that he was provoked," Vanessa replied with her head held high. She glanced ever so quickly at Quinn and Rachel before stepping closer to Mike. With a tilt of her head and the arch of her neck, Vanessa kissed Mike, a slow and gentle kiss.
Rachel felt Quinn's grip tighten as she watched Vanessa and Mike kiss.
When they parted, Mike looked more shell shocked then when Troy had gotten a punch in.
Troy pulled away from Ritchie and with a grunt, stormed off. Cameras followed and a slamming door could be heard moments later.
Meanwhile, Vanessa was carefully looking over Mike's face as he stared at her as if she was a total stranger, and not his skating partner of fifteen years. Vanessa's face was flushed, but Rachel knew she'd look pretty and pink on camera.
"You did this," It wasn't a question, more an excited accusation. Quinn had the hint of a smile on her face.
"Good job Goldie," she added, her gaze dropping to Rachel's mouth of a moment before she dropped Rachel's wrist and walked off.
…
Madison walked across the mansion grounds to an empty set of pool loungers. With sharp motions, she pulled out her earpiece, snatched up a pillow, and held it to her face, screaming as long as she could into it.
Her hands dug into the polyester as she savored her moment of unbridled frustration. The pillow narrowed her world to a warm, black void instead of the spiralling insanity that was Everlasting.
When her lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen, Madison lowered the pillow and took a breath before wiping her face.
It was only after she'd finished fixing her face, that Madison turned around to see Jay.
"Uh, what was that?" He asked.
"Nothing. Just blowing off some steam after someone trampled all over my group interview," Madison said with a toss of her hair.
Jay rolled his eyes, "Yeah Rachel will do that. Listen, your girls are looking for you and after the fight, Quinn wants some girl on girl action."
"I thought that's why she kept Rachel around," Madison's voice was dripping with sarcasm as they walked towards the girls' side of the mansion.
Jay snorted with laughter, "Cute."
"I did offer to go down on her once," she said it breezily as they walked, like it was a normal piece of information to share between friends.
"Who, Rachel?"
"No, ew! Quinn!" It wasn't exactly the truth, but who cared about that anymore? It rolled off her tongue as easy as saying I'm fine, how about you?
"Wait, What?" Jay turned and stopped Madison, lowering his voice, "When?"
"After she caught me and Chet, you know," Madison wiggles her shoulders in lieu of explaining what she and Chet had gotten up too.
"Oh my god," Jay half gasped, half laughed, "What did she say?"
Madison shrugged, "She said no. She wasn't particularly against it though, she just wanted me to sue Chet more I think. Her loss."
"You little slut!" Jay cried and they both laughed.