"Beth!" Quinn called out to her daughter, who was still getting ready for school. "We're running late, sweetie. Do you want some help?"
"No... I mean."
Quinn didn't wait for a full answer and went into the little girl's room. She found Beth wearing a different outfit from the one she and Quinn had chosen not even ten minutes before. Nothing unusual coming from an active, dreamy child.
"Don't you want the dress anymore?" Quinn noticed that Beth had opted for a pair of shorts that she wore a lot to play in the park.
"I don't think so." Beth thought. "Dresses are bad for playing."
Quinn frowned and shook her head at the child's reasoning. Beth wore shorts under her dresses precisely so that she could feel free to play. Apparently, the child had opted for practicality and lightness. With the T-shirt and shorts on, Quinn took Beth to school with the little girl bouncing along the way. It was great when the child was in good spirits, because there was no better sign that there were no serious problems going on.
After passing the school, Quinn literally ran to the community college. She was late to open the cafeteria, and she knew very well that punctuality was not Joe's strong suit. He had always been too cool head, and she had noticed this trait from the day they had met at a Christian religious event two years earlier. Quinn was a newcomer in town, with a three-year-old child on her lap and a job as a cleaner at a law firm called Fish and May. Between low pay and the minor humiliations she suffered due to harassment, she went to the church event in search of spiritual strength to deal with so many problems. Joe was the pastor's son and sang in the gospel band. Joe's band was very good and he had a beautiful voice. The connection between the two happened immediately, but the romantic side never stopped being platonic and one-sided.
When Quinn had the idea to open a coffee shop after seeing an opportunity to rent space at the community college, she turned to Joe, who had done nothing else for a living besides singing in a gospel band. Pastor Graham Hart saw in Quinn an opportunity to give his son a job where he could put his feet on the ground and develop a different skill set. That's why the pastor was the project's biggest backer. Joe did a great job making coffee and smiling at customers, but he never got stressed out by the problems the business caused: that was Quinn's job.
That morning, Quinn was opening the coffee shop, wearing her uniform shirt, putting on her apron and turning on the machines. That was when she saw the note:
"The iced filter is broken. We can't serve iced tea." – Joe.
Quinn sighed. Joe left notes, and never texted on her cell phone, for some reason. Peach iced tea and frappe were popular orders at that time of year. A broken filter meant not only an extra cost, but also lost sales.
"Good morning, Quinn."
Quinn sighed and smiled at her most loyal customer. At least Rachel Berry was consistent in her order.
"Good morning, Berry. The usual?"
"Kurt says I have fixed ideas. I think I'll have a mocha this time."
"Mocca then. But could you wait five minutes while I turn on the machine and get organized?"
"Sure. No problem." Rachel leaned on the counter. "You should hire someone to help you. Joe is always late."
"He doesn't take long to get here. That's manageable." Quinn tried not to show her discomfort. "Unless you're interested for the job."
"I already wait tables."
"I thought you sang at a restaurant."
"I work at the Piano Bar. But when I'm not singing, I wait tables. You would know if you had accepted my invitation at least once."
"Sorry. I have a little girl to raise." Quinn finished getting organized and went to the cashier to take Rachel's order for mocca.
"I'm going to sing this Sunday. I'll do a half-hour setlist. You're my guest."
"Maybe someday, Berry." Quinn prepared the order with the agility she'd acquired through routine, and quickly handed it to her loyal customer. "Good luck with your setlist."
Quinn waved at Rachel, and looked at the next person who was approaching.
"What would you like today?"
"Ice tea, please." A girl ordered.
"We're out of ice."
"Oh..." The girl looked like she was going to give up and leave.
"But the water is cold. It won't be that much of a problem." Quinn hated losing customers, since it was necessary to serve a considerable amount of coffee and drinks to make a profitable day. "I guarantee it will be good anyway."
"It might as well be."
Quinn checked the order, went to the machine, and made the tea. She picked up the cup and held it for a moment, still with her back to the customer. Then she turned to the student.
"Wow, it's really cold!" The girl commented as soon as she tasted it.
"Is it good?" Quinn frowned.
"Yes, it is. Thank you."
Quinn smiled and picked up the next one, as if all the frozen options were available. That was until Joe showed up for work. Suddenly, the frappe and iced tea options were no longer available.
"Did you see my note?" Joe asked.
"Yeah, I was waiting for you to call maintenance."
"Well... let's get to work."
...
The service Grant had requested to protect Santana Lopez's cell phone and personal computer was no big deal to Marley. It took her no more than a couple of hours to install a program she had developed in partnership with George to protect the hotel's systems. Not that the hotel was a major target. The casino was another story, and it was the most demanding service in the complex. Marley was too professional to snoop through Grant's friend's files, but she couldn't help but notice the photo used as the wallpaper on her cell phone: Santana hugging a lady. Judging by the resemblance, it must have been her mother. This also meant that, despite her apparent fondness for flirting with girls, Santana Lopez had family ties. Marley couldn't say the same at that moment. She had never met her father, and her mother had died the year before from complications of diabetes. She had an uncle and two cousins who lived in another state, so she had almost no contact with them. There was Grant and Unique, but they were family by choice, not by blood. Seeing that photo made her miss her mother, who was a simple person with many health problems, but very loving and honest.
"Oh my god, what's with that light?" Unique came out of her room.
"That's called daylight." Marley said, slightly impressed by Unique's presence at that hour. Normally, Unique didn't get up before 11 in the morning. "Are you okay?" Marley pointed to the wall clock. "It's still 8 in the morning."
"I don't even know if I'm in my own body, honey."
"May I ask what happened?"
"Let me see… we did the show last night. Instead of going out with the girls and hunting for a guy, I decided to go straight home. I got home, you were in your room and I went to mine. Is this a parallel universe?"
"Hardly, unless I'm talking to a copy of you from another reality."
"No, babe, my copy from another reality would basically be me. I'm the constant in the chaos." Unique burst out laughing at her own lack of sense.
Marley picked up the coffee and poured a cup for her friend, as well as offering her a piece of English cake.
"That's called breakfast, in case you forgot." Marley smiled.
"What an outrage!" Unique accepted the cup. "If I keep this up, you're going to invite me to the gym."
"Do you want to go with me?"
"Not happening."
Marley laughed at her friend. Unique was this incredible talent on stage, and she had an abundance of artistic creativity. Unfortunately, this was not put to good use due to her incorrigible laziness for any work done off stage. Marley believed that Unique's only exception for off stage work was being the occasional babysitter for Beth, the little girl who lived next door. Unique had fun with the little blondie.
"What are you doing today?" Unique asked as she sipped some coffee.
"The usual... I'm going to stop by the University to deliver an assignment."
"To the university?"
"No. To a girl named Santana Lopez. Grant asked."
"Really? What's her deal?"
"I have no idea. I think she must be a witness in one of the cases he took. Because, I don't see Grant being friends with someone like that girl."
"Ugly? Poor? What?"
"She's pretty. Maybe she's poor because of the dorm she lives in. Apparently, she's a lesbian, because she flirted with me in a blatant way."
"Oh… interesting."
"I'm not interested."
"How could you not?" Unique put her hand on her waist in a posture of indignation. "You're pretty open-minded about your sexuality… and then you need to detox from Jake."
"I'm moving on. I just don't want to get involved with anyone right now."
"Whatever!" Unique rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee.
She didn't believe that Marley was really moving on after her traumatic breakup with Jake. It had been two years of cheating, an interrupted pregnancy, and a lot, but a lot of drama. Jake was toxic and Marley was absolutely in love with him. Until, after many warnings, especially from Unique, Marley decided to put an end to the relationship. Marley and Jake were just an example that made Unique think that love was a waste of time, and that the best thing she could do was live intensely in the present.
...
"Wheezy!" Santana shook her friend.
"Satan, please go back to hell."
"It's okay. I'm not the one who's going to have another attack."
Mercedes screamed from under the covers before throwing them aside. Santana was relentless in her morning exercises. She had been like that for at least six months. Santana and Mercedes were longtime friends who had agreed to go to the same university and worked hard to achieve it. But Santana had never been one to interfere in her friend's personal choices, especially when it came to her being overweight. Until Mercedes collapsed in the middle of campus with cardiac arrhythmia, caused by a combination of comorbidities caused by obesity. Mercedes was grateful for her friend's dedication in helping her overcome her laziness for any type of physical exercise, except for dance and theater. But dancing occasionally and moving around on stage wasn't enough: that's why Santana made her exercise for at least half an hour every morning, except on days when the weather didn't allow it. She ran in the park, and Mercedes followed her friend on her bike.
Half an hour after waking up in a very unkind way, Mercedes and Santana were in a cosmopolitan part of the city. The park was a leisure and cultural center that on the one hand housed the wealthy, and on the other was access for a group of college-aged young people from various social backgrounds who came from different parts of the country. In the mornings, however, it was occupied by those who wanted to stay in shape. Mercedes cycled for half an hour, which was the minimum time in the pact created by the two friends.
Friday was a short day for Santana. In addition to her exercise routine, she had a class and then a whole day off. There was at least one additional commitment that Friday had been established. Santana kept to her schedule and, at lunchtime, instead of going to the cafeteria, she went to her dorm. There, not so much to her surprise, she found the IT person who had promised to return her cell phone and personal computer.
"Marley, right?" She found the girl sitting on the bench next to the hall.
"Hi... Lopez." Marley stood up, almost dropping her equipment. "Sorry... how are you?" She extended her hand to shake the other one.
"Please, call me Santana."
"Sure. Well, here are your cell phone and your computer. The protection I installed won't change much in how you use them. You can still unlock everything with your password. The difference is that your devices are stronger against hacker actions, and I installed encryption software that can be very useful."
"Encryption?" Santana frowned.
"I don't know why Grant thinks your equipment needs to be protected. What I know from experience is that people with certain needs and positions need document protection. Now, whether that need is real or not… that's up to you. I can teach you how to use it, it's really simple, in fact, it won't take more than 10 minutes."
"You can teach me at lunch." Seeing that the expression on the other girl's face wasn't very friendly, Santana decided to back off. "Look, there's a decent restaurant right here near campus. It's not as cheap as the cafeteria, but the food is pretty tasty. I'm not doing this to get in your pants, okay? I'm just suggesting a nice, public environment for you to show off your program. Besides, I'm starving."
Marley wasn't so sure about Santana's intentions. It had been a bad impression at first, but the student's more relaxed and obviously tired posture made Marley understand that flirting wasn't on Santana's list of intentions, at least not yet. Besides, she was also hungry. Marley nodded and followed Santana. The walk was longer than Marley thought, because they had to practically cross the campus to the avenue that gave access to the University entrance. The restaurant in question was on the corner at the end of the block. It was simple, relatively busy and pleasant.
Marley ordered a salad with a grilled chicken fillet, while Santana ordered a remarkable amount of food. This left IT puzzled: how could someone so thin handle so much food? She wondered if Santana had eating and psychological disorders, like she herself had developed when she was dating Jake and was brutally harassed by Kitty. It was a time when Unique even had to act as a psychologist for her friend. In any case, Santana was just a client and Marley had nothing to do with her problems.
"Where have you been learning how to do this IT thing?" Santana asked as she ate fries without the slightest concern for her weight.
"I studied at the Technological College, but I didn't graduate."
"Really?" Santana frowned. "You look like someone that didn't finish high school yet."
"I'm 19."
"Are you, by any chance, one of those prodigies who went to college at 12?"
"I went at 14."
The answer truly surprised Santana. She looked at Marley to see if there was any trace of lying, however, the girl was being absolutely sincere. This left her impressed.
"Did you run out of money?"
"I lost my scholarship. Grant offered to pay for my college, but I refused. I thought it would be better to drop out, but I'm still studying and keeping up to date informally."
"As an autodidact?"
"Exactly." Marley nodded, feeling rather proud of herself.
"Where did you meet Grant?"
"I grew up in the Fishes mansion. My mother was the family cook, and I was brought up running around in that garden. It's not that the Fishes are unselfish and generous people, although they always treated me decently. Grant was different. He treated me like I was his little sister."
"Cool."
"And you? Where do you know Grant from?"
"Right here. This party happened at a sorority, I was a freshman, and he was with a girlfriend."
"Miley? Blonde, tall, green eyes?"
"That's the one." Santana smiled.
"I used to call her Barbie Super Bitch."
"That Miley was mean to my best friend. Don't get me wrong, Mercedes can defend herself very well, but she has some weak points. I thought I should defend my friend's honor and decided to take revenge. Grant caught me doing the prank, but instead of reporting me, he became my friend."
"So you're not a witness in a case?"
"No, I'm not."
"I guess I made a mistake." Marley looked embarrassed.
"Why?"
"You're not the kind of person Grant has in his circle of friends."
"Because I'm poor?"
"That too. Grant sometimes gets involved with girls and simpler origins to annoy his parents. That wouldn't be the case with you because you like other girls. But when it comes to close friendships, Grant doesn't stray too far from his social circle. That's why you don't fit the profile."
"I see." Santana nodded and the conversation was briefly interrupted by the sound of message notifications.
"That must be Jenny." Marley said casually and, seeing the look on Santana's face, tried to rectify herself. "I haven't read anything private from you, not a single message. I swear! It's just that Jenny sends you a lot of messages."
Santana stared at Marley and silently checked the messages. In fact, there was no marking of read messages. She ran her eyes over them for a minute or two before turning them over. Santana looked at Marley wondering whether or not to comment on them. Finally, she decided that Marley was someone she knew almost nothing about, and kept the information to herself. In the meantime, another notification arrived from the amateur theater group. Rachel Berry had sent an invitation to the show she often gave at a piano bar. Santana had never been to such a place. She knew from the theater's rehearsals that Rachel Berry was as good a singer as Mercedes Jones, but with a different style. Santana's admiration for Rachel, however, was limited to the artistic field, as she found her colleague unbearable.
Marley was still waiting for a signal from Santana. She didn't know whether to concentrate on eating her salad or start the short software lesson. The student sighed, shook her head slightly and smiled.
"Well, Marley. Could you explain this program you've installed?"
...
Rachel didn't want to live the cliché of the actress who worked waiting tables while her career failed to take off, but she did have rent to pay. The piano bar where she worked had cultural attractions every week, from Friday to Sunday. Most of the time, singers performed at the piano bar, but there were also evenings with comedians. The most popular event in the restaurant's history was when the great Shelby Corcoran put together an hour and 15 minutes setlist for three days of performances. Reservations were closed 30 days in advance. Sometimes the piano bar wouldn't be able to book any acts for the Sunday. When this happened, Rachel filled the space with a half-hour setlist. On these occasions, she made a point of sending reminders to everyone she knew, without the slightest distinction.
When she arrived at work, she went straight to the small cloakroom. Rachel wasn't obliged to wait tables on the day she sang, unless she was willing to make a bit more money from the tips. The uniform matched the standard of the place: white shirt under a black vest, and black pants. The uniform also included a small apron with a large pocket for the usual materials: an order book, a pen and other pertinent items. Rachel preferred to think of the uniform as a costume for a play she performed almost every night. When she sang, she simply removed her apron and played the setlist agreed in advance with Brad, the restaurant's pianist. The success or otherwise of the artistic intervention, so to speak, depended very much on the day's audience.
The restaurant wasn't full that Sunday. The crowd was also one of the hardest to win over. Rachel was called to the piano after almost two hours waiting tables. She took off her apron and handed it into the hands of Zach, the restaurant manager. She raised her head and stepped behind the piano, standing next to Brad. She waited for Gina to introduce her to the customers and received shy applause. Rachel and Brad agreed on a setlist of standards for the evening. They agreed to perform seven songs, including My Man and Body and Soul. Rachel liked a more pop-oriented repertoire, but it was in jazz that she could best show the nuances of the vocal techniques she had been developing since she was a child.
There was no one she knew in the restaurant that day. That is to say, none of her friends attended, not even her boyfriend. Finn hated missing the Sunday night soccer match; Kurt went to sleep with his boyfriend; the rest always found something to do or some excuse. Rachel was used to an audience without any familiar faces.
"To hell with all of you." Rachel said between her teeth, camouflaged by a fake smile as she received sparse applause after the end of the song. That Sunday was not what she had imagined. Even with her perfect vocals, she hadn't captured the attention of those who just wanted to eat a terribly expensive steak, or drink the wine that the piano bar's excellent wine cellar could offer.
Rachel put her apron back on and served the tables. If the evening wasn't a success with the public or the applause, at least the tips were usually a little better after she sang.
"I can't wait to leave this place." Rachel grumbled in the small changing room, already changing to leave.
"Getting out of here is simple. Just ask for your resignation." Jane rolled her eyes. She hated her coworker and didn't want to hide it.
"That day will come soon enough for me, Jane. Maybe not so much for you."
Rachel's perfect ear picked up when Jane whispered "bitch" behind her back. Well, Rachel had her insecurity issues, but life had taught her how to stand up for herself.
Defense was a word that marked her teenage years. Rachel was the favorite target of the school cheerleading squad because she was dating the quarterback. And also because her self-centered personality contributed substantially, but Rachel wouldn't put that into the equation. She preferred to think that everyone was jealous of her immense talent. The point is that years of bullying made her grow a thick skin. Even with new figures playing such a role in her life, like Jane, Santana and even Mercedes, Rachel held her head high.
Rachel left the restaurant accompanied by Gina and Brad. The three of them always took the subway together, which was both safe and comfortable. Gina and Brad would get off first, since they were practically neighbors. Rachel left the subway two stations later. There were usually no problems inside the carriage, but the same couldn't be said on the streets. Rachel looked around when she got off at the station to identify possible threats. She put her backpack in front of her, hugged it and walked quickly. Her apartment wasn't far from the station, nor did she live in a neighborhood considered dangerous. Still, this was a big city, and all caution was needed in the early hours of the morning.
Rachel looked at the empty street as soon as she climbed the subway's stairs, and felt no danger. She crossed the avenue and walked quickly to her apartment building. Suddenly, she felt a strange presence, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground.