Chapter 2: Sad Beautiful Tragic
In dreams I meet you in warm conversation
We both wake in lonely beds, different cities.
The day started like every other day seemed to: wrapped in the arms of some random girl she picked up the night before. Though it helped a bit, she couldn't escape the feeling of loneliness that had been a constant in her life for a year.
Quinn sighed and shoved the feelings aside. Feelings did nothing but cause pain. She would have to try harder to not let them slip up on her again.
She looked over at the girl tangled up with her. Quinn wasn't real sure about her name (Lex? Liz? Luce?), but she was very pretty, with brown eyes and matching hair, she almost looked like her. Not to mention she was very easy to seduce. Quinn loved visiting America. The girls all fell in love with her accent, which she had picked up after years of living abroad.
Quinn almost felt sorry for her, but that would require feeling.
And time is taking its sweet time erasing you
And you've got your demons, and, darling, they all look like me.
Carefully, Quinn extracted herself from the arms and legs of the girl in her bed. She had just glanced at the clock and realized she really needed to get up if she wanted to catch her flight. Not to mention she needed to sneak out before her bed partner woke up.
She picked up her jeans from last night and the last pair of underwear from her bag. It took a minute to find her bra, having been thrown across the room last night. She was out of shirts, so she snuck down to Frannie's room and stole one of hers. It was a risk, but she was confident in Frannie's ability to sleep through anything.
A shower was a necessity she could not avoid. It might wake someone up that she didn't want to speak to, but she really didn't want to spend twelve hours on a plane while smelling like sex. So she took another risk. Quinn was something of a risk taker, especially when she didn't have anything to lose. And she never had anything to lose. Not anymore.
'Cause we had a beautiful magic love there
What a sad beautiful tragic love affair.
Luckily, it seemed like the girl whose name she could not remember was as heavy a sleeper as Frannie. Quinn was able to take a quick shower and pack her clothes that were strewn all around the room without waking her up. To her, this was a win. Frannie would have to deal with the girl, and not her.
Grabbing her ticket from the desk, she slipped her duffle over her shoulder and quietly made her way out of the room. She was going to make it. She could see the door out.
Quinn was so focused on the door that she didn't notice the person in the kitchen.
"You're not seriously doing this, are you?" Quinn froze and looked to the right to see the person she had missed in the corner of her eye. Frannie, looking highly amused, hopped down from her seat on the counter and continued. "Not saying goodbye, I can understand. You've never been one for goodbyes. But you can't just leave a girl in my spare bedroom."
"I thought you might want her," Quinn quipped. "She has a thing for hot blondes."
Frannie rolled her eyes. "Please, Quinn. I don't need your sloppy seconds."
"But she's really good in bed," she added. "Well, any girl is good in bed compared to the people you sleep with."
Frannie held up her hand to stop her. Quinn smirked. "Hey, I don't comment on your sexuality, so you don't comment on mine." It was an agreement they made long ago.
Quinn put her hands up in surrender. "All I'll say then is that you could easily have any girl you want. They go for the whole innocent vibe you've got going on."
Frannie snorted. She was hardly innocent at the moment, Quinn had to admit. Her short shorts and tight tank top that clung to her body didn't really scream, "Come to church with me Sunday!" like every outfit that she wore out of the apartment. Her long blonde hair that was mussed up from sleep didn't help either. To others it may look like she had just come from wild sex, but Quinn knew better. Her hair was probably from trying to find some sleeping position where she wouldn't hear the screams of Quinn's bed partner. God, that girl could scream.
"Okay, so maybe you don't look innocent now," Quinn stated. "But normally you look like the poster child for some church."
"I know," Frannie whined. "Guys think I'm a prude. But if I dress even a little bit more provocatively, I'm a slut."
"Well trust me, girls aren't that judging." Frannie gave her a look, and Quinn corrected herself. "Well they are because they're girls, but they know what it's like. And lesbians love to go after the innocent straight girls. I mean, think about me before I dated She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I was exactly like you."
This was true. Frannie was Quinn's older twin in looks. It wasn't until she came along and convinced Quinn to get a short haircut and clothes that reflected her lifestyle better that they began to differ.
Frannie laughed. "I still can't believe there was a time you thought you were straight. You're about as gay as they come."
"Obviously you've never been to a pride parade," Quinn muttered.
She giggled and then stopped as something hit her. "I'm you, pre-lesbian… Oh God, what if I am gay?!"
It was Quinn's turn to laugh at the legitimate look of worry and panic on Frannie's face. "That's why I left you a girl in my bed: to experiment. Happy Christmas."
It almost worked. Quinn was almost out the door when Frannie stopped her. "Lucy Quinn Fabray you get that girl out of my apartment this instant. I am not a lesbian, and I am not cleaning up your messes."
Quinn spun around in shock. She could've sworn Judy Fabray was in the room and she had been transported back in time. But it was only Frannie. "You ruin all the fun, Mom."
Frannie's mouth dropped open. "I know you did not just compare me to our mother."
She shrugged. "You sounded enough like her."
"Get that girl out and then get on your damn plane," Frannie said stonily, only half-kidding.
Quinn chuckled as she walked back to the room she had occupied for the last week.
She hesitated at the door, not really sure what to do. She wasn't really practiced in the art of getting rid of one-night stands. "Hey," she called from her place in the doorway. "Wake up. I have to leave."
The girl did nothing except roll over in her sleep. Quinn sighed, knowing she was going to have to go in. She only hoped there weren't any sharp objects around. She didn't need to be stabbed by an angry girl. They might not let her on the flight if she was oozing blood.
She wondered what would happen if she just made a run for it. Frannie would probably drag her ass off the plane to get rid of the girl. Either that, or she would no longer be allowed to bring women home when she stayed with Frannie. Both weren't very desirable to Quinn, but then again neither was dealing with the person asleep in her bed.
Quinn sighed, knowing it would probably be best if she just pulled the Band-Aid off quick. She pulled the blinds up, exposing the room to the bright, never-ending Los Angeles sun. A groan was heard, and Quinn knew she was waking up.
"Okay," Quinn said again. "You need to leave. I have a flight to catch and my sister doesn't want you here."
There was another groan before the girl sat up. She had really bad bedhead, and where it had once been endearing on her, it wasn't on this girl. So Quinn didn't feel any guilt at all kicking her out.
She blinked, not entirely focusing on Quinn, probably because Quinn was still in front of the bright window.
"Did you hear me? You have to go. Right now," she stated when the girl hadn't made a move to get dressed.
"W-what about our date?" the girl questioned, clearly confused. "You said—"
"I know what I said," Quinn replied calmly. "And I lied. People do that."
"But- why?" Tears were forming in her eyes as she clutched the bedsheet around her. Quinn sighed in relief. She was one of the crying girls, not a psycho who would stalk her.
Quinn shrugged. "You're hot and I wanted to sleep with you. Is that a crime?"
The tears vanished and the anger appeared. She chucked a pillow at Quinn's head. Maybe Quinn called it too soon? Maybe this was a psycho? "Get out!"
Quinn quickly exited the room before the girl moved on to throwing more dangerous items, like knives, or books.
She was met with a smirking Frannie in the living room. "I'm guessing she didn't take your departure well?"
Quinn sighed, sitting down on the sofa next to Frannie. "Understatement of the year."
"What did you promise this one?" Frannie asked curiously.
She rubbed the back of her neck while in contemplation. "Well, I think I promised her some kind of date, but I don't really remember?"
"Was the sex so mindblowingly good that it messed with your memory?"
This made Quinn laugh. "Not at all. The promises just all blend together nowadays."
"Maybe it's time you settled down?" Frannie suggested.
Quinn glared at her. "You know why I'm not doing that."
"Okay okay!" She held her hands up in surrender. "Just a suggestion!"
Before Quinn could respond, the girl stormed out of Quinn's room and headed straight for the door, giving the two of them a murderous glare as she passed them by.
"Quinn, that girl is going to kill me," Frannie deadpanned after the door slammed.
She laughed, standing up. It was time for her to take her leave. "Good luck."
"Why don't you just stay for Christmas? Protect me from her?" Frannie said lightly.
Quinn frowned. This was one of the subjects they didn't talk about. "I came before Christmas for a reason, Fran."
"They want to see you, Quinn. Just give them a chance again."
She snorted. "Yeah, like Dad wants to see me."
"Well, maybe not Dad, but Mom—"
Quinn shook her head, shouldering her duffle. "No. I don't want either of them in my life anymore. I barely want you in my life." She tried to make a joke to keep their conversation light, but it didn't work. The apartment was suffocating her, and she needed to get out. "See you around, Fran."
She sighed. "Goodbye, Quinn. Make sure to check both ways before walking out. That girl might be waiting with a knife."
This got her a grin from Quinn. "Will do."
It turns out the girl wasn't waiting with a knife. She was nowhere to be found, and thankfully hadn't slashed Quinn's tires before disappearing. This was a rental, and Quinn didn't want to be responsible for having to buy new tires; not again.
Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting
Silence, this train runs off its tracks
Kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen?
Hang up, give up, for the life of us we can't get back.
The trip to LAX was uneventful. She mindlessly drove, fiddling with the radio every once in a while but never really listening to anything. Everything on the radio these days was too happy. Christmas was a joyful season and so everything was happy, whether they were playing Christmas songs or top 40. Quinn couldn't stand it.
When she dropped off the car, she felt a bit sad. LA was the only place where she drove, and she always missed it when she left. Driving was one of the few things she missed about her hometown. Though she definitely wouldn't leave the city just to be able to drive again. There was nothing that could make her move back to Lima.
Check-in was a madhouse. Thankfully she didn't have to check any bags. She would've definitely missed her flight if she had to endure that line.
Security was even worse, and she couldn't skip that, no matter how light she packed. There were lots of paparazzi, which told Quinn one thing: there was some damn celebrity here. She hated celebrities who felt the need to stop traffic. Sure, they may be able to have security get them to their flight on time, but all the normal people were actually at a risk of missing their flights. A flight wouldn't be stopped unless you had an Oscar, which Quinn didn't.
She sighed impatiently. If she made it to her flight before the doors closed, it would be very close. God, she hated LAX and its damn celebrities. She just wanted to go home.
"—won the Oscar this year, didn't she?" Quinn heard the tail end of a question from one of the people in front of her. She was right. It was a celebrity.
"She did," the woman in front of her confirmed. "And an Emmy." Great. It was an award-winning celebrity. Quinn was never going to catch her flight.
"I hear she's fucking insane, though," the guy added.
"Yeah. My cousin worked with her on her first movie. Said she was a complete diva. What a shame."
He laughed. "What actresses aren't divas?"
"Still, she's hot."
No amount of hotness could convince Quinn to put up with a diva. She might be able to tolerate it for one night, but that was it. She tuned the rest of the conversation out as she waited for her turn.
She finally made it through security with twenty minutes until takeoff. She took off running for her gate, knowing that if the celebrity wasn't offering another autograph session in the middle of the airport, she might make it.
It was close, as she had predicted, but she did make it to the gate.
The attendant smiled a bit as she scanned Quinn's ticket. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"
"Can't help the fact that a damn celebrity decided to stop security," she replied lightly, taking her ticket back and entering the tunnel to board the plane.
As she was making her way there, she decided to look down at the ticket for the first time. Frannie had bought the return ticket, as was custom when one of them visited the other. So it was only then that she noticed that she was in first class. Damn. She would have to call Frannie later to thank her for the Christmas surprise.
She found her seat easy enough, and put her bag in the overhead compartment before collapsing in the seat with a sigh of relief. She was still a bit out of it from her mad dash across the airport.
"Damn celebrities," she muttered, mostly to herself.
"Excuse me?" a small voice asked, and it was only then that Quinn realized she was sitting beside someone. She glanced over to find a cute brunette looking at her with a frown. Quinn quickly sat up to make herself more presentable.
"Sorry. I almost missed my flight because of some celebrity," she explained. "You know how it is here. They think time just stops for them and don't bother worrying about the others who might be running a little late." Quinn was completely captured in how much this woman looked like her that she didn't even bother to notice the frown deepening.
"And… do you know who it was?" she asked hesitantly.
Quinn shook her head. "Some girl who won an Oscar and an Emmy. I don't really keep up with too much American stuff anymore."
This brought about a smile from her. "Well, at least you made it. I'm Rachel, by the way."
Rachel held out her hand, which she shook. "Quinn."