It had been a few days since Meg arrived in Los Angeles, and she was starting to get into the rhythm of things. She had found a café near her Airbnb where she could work on her design portfolio, and she'd sent out a dozen more applications to potential employers. The city was overwhelming, but she was holding it together—until her phone buzzed one morning with an unknown number.
Meg glanced at the screen. The name "Quagmire" flashed in bold letters. She sighed, rolling her eyes.
Great. Just what I need.
"Hello?" she answered, already knowing who it was.
"Meg, baby! Quagmire here! Giggity giggity goo!" came the voice on the other end. Meg winced.
"Uh, hey, Quagmire," she replied flatly, taking a sip of her iced coffee. "What's up?"
"Oh, you know, just hanging out, living life, trying not to crash my plane or get arrested in some exotic country. But enough about me, let's talk about you!" Quagmire said, his voice suddenly turning serious in that exaggerated way he always did. "I hear you've gone and left poor Quahog behind. No more awkward family dinners and cringing every time Peter says something embarrassing! You're officially a big city girl! Giggity!"
Meg couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I guess I am. LA's... different."
"Oh, I bet it is! I mean, I've heard about this place. The people! The parties! The nightlife! You better be careful, Meg. One minute, you're enjoying a smoothie in a yoga studio, and the next, you're wearing a feather boa and riding a mechanical bull at some influencer's birthday bash. Giggity!"
Meg chuckled, despite herself. "Right. I'll be sure to watch out for the mechanical bull."
"But hey, enough about all that. I've got a little insider info for you," Quagmire continued, lowering his voice dramatically. "Your family's freaking out."
Meg raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, they're losing it, kid! I mean, Lois—oh boy, Lois! She's calling me every five minutes asking if I've heard from you. She's like, 'Quagmire, do you think Meg is okay? What if she gets kidnapped by Hollywood agents or caught in some weird cult?' You know how she is."
Meg rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. She's probably worrying about me in a constant loop."
"Worrying? No. Panicking is more like it. And then Peter? That guy, he's been acting like he lost his best friend. He keeps telling me, 'Quagmire, we need to fly out to LA and find Meg! She might be... I don't know... getting eaten by a bear or something!' And Chris? He's convinced you're going to get famous and forget about him, and now he's Googling 'How to get a famous sibling's attention.'"
Meg couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity. "Of course they are. It's always a disaster when I leave. They're probably planning to send someone after me."
"Well, they're definitely planning something," Quagmire said, his tone shifting into mock seriousness. "Peter even suggested he take the whole family to 'scope out the scene' in LA. Lois was all for it until she realized she'd have to spend an entire flight with Stewie. That kid is the worst traveler. I swear, Meg, I've never heard a baby complain about airplane food so much."
Meg snorted. "That sounds like Peter's plan. I can just imagine him showing up in LA with a giant 'Griffin Family Vacation' banner."
"Oh, it's gonna happen, Meg," Quagmire said, his voice turning a little more sincere. "But seriously, I'm proud of you, kid. You're out there doing your thing, chasing your dreams. I'm just here to make sure you don't forget about us small-town folks. I mean, once you're rich and famous, don't forget the little people—like ol' Quagmire here, huh? I'll even settle for a cameo on your show. Giggity!"
Meg chuckled. "Thanks, Quagmire. I'll try to remember you when I'm rich and famous."
"That's the spirit! Oh, and if you get a chance, try the tacos. Seriously. They're life-changing. Trust me. It's not all palm trees and sunsets. You gotta try the food." Quagmire paused for a moment before adding, "And maybe, just maybe, avoid hanging out with any mysterious strangers who say they can get you into exclusive clubs. You never know when one of them might end up being... me."
"I'll keep that in mind," Meg replied, amused by the absurdity of it all. "I think I can handle myself here."
"That's the Meg I know! Stay strong, baby. And don't let those LA folks turn you into some smoothie-drinking, yoga-pants-wearing zombie. You got this!"
As she hung up the phone, Meg couldn't help but smile. It was strange to think about her family's reactions back home. Part of her wanted to call them and reassure them that she was fine, but she knew it was better to let them learn the ropes of her life in LA on their own time. She had to do this for herself.
Quagmire's call had been a welcome distraction, though. It was good to hear a familiar voice, even if it came with a side of wildly inappropriate humor.
Shaking her head with a grin, Meg turned back to her laptop. There was a world out there waiting for her to conquer, and she was more than ready to face it.
And who knows? Maybe one day she'd invite Quagmire out for tacos. Giggity.