So I had an idea in my head for some time now, and I finally wrote it yesterday. Thank you to the amazing Xactodreams for coming up with and creating this clever Haiku for it. I probably wouldn't have written it without your help.
She shouldn’t have stayed up to watch that last episode last night. She should have gone to sleep like she wanted to. She should have ignored Kurt’s pleading and retired to bed so she could get her full eight hours. Bad things happen when you stray off schedule.
“Kurt!” she yells loudly, too loud for the current hour, and much too loud for their apartment. Sound travels easily through the studio apartment decorated with tapestries.
He doesn’t respond and she huffs loudly as she tosses another pair of shoes to the side. She’ll clean those up later. She’s all kinds of disoriented and the lack of response from her roommate isn’t helping.
She throws open her curtain divider and finds him engrossed in his laptop, mid sip of coffee, with his hair all sorts amiss.
“Kurt,” she states again, calmly this time.
“Yes?”
“Have you seen my wedges?”
“The tan pair or the black pair.”
Obviously the tan pair.
“Tan.”
He points in the general direction of their living room and doesn’t take his eyes off the screen.
“Where you left them.”
She rounds the corner of the couch to find them lying innocently on the floor. She’s too proud for Thank You’s this morning. Instead, she throws a, “What are you doing, anyway?” over her shoulder.
“Catching up on my missed connections.”
She’s heard him going on about this before and she thought it was fairly sad.
She sits on the recliner and straps her shoes on, “Why?”
“I missed a whole week’s worth.”
She grumbles something under her breath. Normally, she thrives in the morning but today she just feels bitter and angry. She doesn’t like oversleeping her alarm, she doesn’t like running around like her head’s cut off, and she certainly doesn’t like that her roommate gets to lounge around the apartment for two more hours while she has to start her twelve hour day.
“It’s sad,” she comments, “And a little troublesome that you read those.”
His eyes finally leave the screen, “They’re romantic.”
“Hardly.”
He sidesteps her jab, “Okay, some of them are just looking to hook up, but some of these people feel like they missed their one true love.”
“Give me a break.”
“You’re going to miss your train,” he offers with a glance to his clock.
She throws her hands up in the hair and mumbles some more obscenities under her breath, and continues to mumble them as she grabs her bags, throws a wave over her shoulder, and slides her apartment door closed.
/
Quinn walks slowly down the bustling sidewalk, humming softly to herself as people rush by her in a blur. Her headphones block out most of the noise, but she can still hear New York. The cab honking to her left, the businessman on his phone behind her, and the baby crying in the stroller ahead of her. Her decision to spend the summer in New York had been a big one, but she hasn’t regretted it for a minute.
She continues her leisurely stroll, refusing to get caught up in the fast pace of the busy sidewalk. She used to be like that. She used to always be in a hurry. She’s not sure when she changed. One day she decided to enjoy her life and she’s never looked back.
She counts the cracks she passes over, and glances up at the tall buildings every once in a while, still amazed by how tall they are. She’s not sure where she’s going, she just knows she’s going.
Her inspiration has been lacking lately, and it’s starting to worry her. She’s never encountered a writer’s block before and she doesn’t know how to proceed. She’s on a mission to explore the city until something happens. She knows that if she wants something to happen, the odds are that it won’t, but she’s running out of options.
She follows the masses, avoiding the subway steps, and gets lost in the haze.
/
Rachel drums her finger on the counter top as she waits for her name to be called. She’s never been in this coffee shop before, but the line was significantly shorter than any of the Starbucks around and she was only a few minutes from running late.
“Rachel,” the barista calls and she nearly falls over the countertop to get to it.
She always feels better after she has her second cup of caffeine.
She doesn’t know when she acquired such a need for it, but she can’t seem to live without it now.
She pulls the lid off and blows on the steaming liquid. She just needs a sip.
Her phone buzzes, one of her co-stars, probably, and she maneuvers it out of the bag without spilling any of her beloved Latte. She’s right, and the text is from someone she can’t stand in the cast, but she doesn’t want to be rude. She types back a response as she uses her hip to open the glass door.
She can instantly hear the sounds of New York. Her New York. It’s her soundtrack now. It’s soothing and it reminds her that she’s in a city that she loves, and her bad morning will turn around eventually. She just needs to remember to breathe.
Breathe, and avoid running into anyone accidently.
“Shit,” she mumbles as half her drink leaves her cup. It scalds her fingers and she drops the cup immediately on reflex. The air rushes passed her lips as she shakes her burning hand. “Shit,” she hisses again.
She looks up from the coffee cup lying on the sidewalk to find the person she ran into, also mumbling obscenities under her breath. She sees her blonde hair first before she notices the light brown liquid seeping into the girl’s white shirt.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Rachel asks quickly, as the other girl holds the shirt away from her body.
“Fine. I’m fine,” she responds, “Are you?”
Rachel feels the stinging in her fingers but she pushes it aside because the girl clearly got the worst of it.
She nods, “I’m so sorry.”
“I should have been paying attention.”
Rachel’s pretty sure it’s her fault that this happened. She’s never accidentally spilled a drink on someone, though, so she’s unaware of the protocol for a situation like this. Does she offer her money for a new shirt? Buy the girl a coffee? Leave before she gets a good look at her?
“Your shirt,” she starts.
The girl shakes her head and finally looks up, connecting their eyes, “It’ll be fine.”
“I feel terrible,” Rachel replies, “Let me buy you a coffee.” She’s surprised by her sincere offer. New York has turned her cold over the past few months. She didn’t know she could be nice to strangers still. She’s also quite surprised this person hasn’t screamed at her for being so careless and clumsy.
“I feel like I should be buying you one,” she gestures to the ground.
Rachel dismisses her with a wave of her hand, “Please, I feel really bad.”
“You’re sure?”
She nods, “Positive.”
/
Quinn grabs a few napkins and dabs the excess liquid off her shirt as she stands in line.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She smiles, “I’m fine.” The girl looks at her with apprehension and she senses she’s about to be asked the same question worded differently, so she steers it away from their mishap. “I’m Quinn,” she holds out her hand.
“Rachel.”
Now that the craziness of the moment has passed, Quinn can get a better look at the girl she ran into. Her brown curls loosely frame her face, and she runs a tongue under her upper lip as she studies the board.
“What were you drinking?”
“Caramel Latte.”
Quinn smiles to herself. She hates caramel.
“What are you drinking?”
“You really don’t need to.” Rachel stares at her and she has a feeling she won’t look away until she gives in. “Regular coffee.”
“That’s it? You’re sure.”
Quinn nods and re-shoulders her bag, “Yes.”
They get to the counter and Rachel orders for the both of them. As they stand off to the side, Quinn struggles for something to talk about.
“Do you come here often?”
She’s glad Rachel is checking her phone because it means she missed the wince she gave herself.
“No. It just happened to be less busy than any of the other places. How about you?”
“First time.”
Rachel laughs, “I hope being assaulted by my drink won’t change your opinion on this place.”
Quinn smiles and looks away, “Don’t worry. I’m a fan of second chances.”
She turns back toward Rachel to see her smiling and she smiles wider.
“What do you do?”
“I’m still in school,” Quinn replies, “Drama. Though, I’m starting to really get into the whole behind the scenes stuff. Screenwriting, actually. I’ve been taking a summer course online.”
Rachel’s eyes light up, “Here in the city?”
“Yale. I live in Connecticut. I’m just here for the summer.”
Rachel nods thoughtfully, “That’s wonderful.”
“Quinn,” the barista calls and she steps forward to receive her coffee. Rachel follows her over to where the milk and sugar stand is set up. “What about you?”
“I’m an actress,” she says eagerly.
Quinn’s eyebrow quirks up, she wouldn’t have guessed it.
“I’m still in school, too,” she continues, “NYADA. But I’m cast in Funny Girl on Broadway.”
Quinn lets her eyes dance around the girl’s face for a few seconds, “That’s amazing.”
Rachel ducks her head, “Thank you.”
“Rachel,” the barista calls and she steps forward to get her Latte.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Quinn says and gestures it towards her.
“It’s the least I can do.”
“You’re probably the nicest person I’ve met so far in this city.”
Rachel winces, “I find that hard to believe.”
Quinn gestures towards an empty table and Rachel takes a seat, “How long have you been living here?”
“A year.”
“How are you liking it?”
“I love it. I’ve always considered it my home.”
Quinn traces the rim of her cup before she takes a sip, “It’s an amazing place.”
Rachel smiles, “It constantly surprises me.”
/
Quinn’s laugh floats through the air and hits her ears, and she finds herself unable to contain her smile.
“The cab driver had no idea what to do,” she says and Rachel wishes she was there to experience the story first hand.
“I can imagine. Your roommates, you’ve known them for a while?”
Quinn nods as she swallows and sets the cup back down, “We’ve been friends forever. We’ve had our moments but…”
Rachel drums her finger on the side of her paper cup and smiles, “My roommate and I are the same way. Sometimes we’re at each other’s throats and other times we are inseparable.”
Quinn smiles at her, “Sounds about right.”
“He has this ridiculous hobby of reading Craigslist. Obsessed. It drives me nuts.”
Quinn frowns in confusion, “Reading Craigslist? The website?”
“It started when he was job hunting, and then he started reading the For Sale sections, and then it escalated to the Personal Ads.”
“That’s interesting.”
“He has a boyfriend already,” She clarifies quickly, “He just likes to read what people post. Ya know, all those Men seeking Men or Strictly Platonic. His favorite is the Missed Connections section. He treats it like it’s his favorite TV show. He’ll catch me up on what I missed for the week when I get home later, I’m sure.” Quinn’s smile reaches her eyes and Rachel shakes her head, “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
She hasn’t let herself get carried away in a while.
“No,” she replies softly, “Not at all.”
“So you like to write?”
She nods, “I try to.”
“I’m sure you’re very good,” Rachel comments confidently.
She watches as Quinn’s eyebrow quirks up, “What makes you say that?”
“You just look like you’d be good at anything you did.”
She blushes after that and ducks her head. She can’t believe she just said that.
“I’m stuck in a writer’s block right now.”
“Can I ask what it’s about?”
Quinn bites her lip, “I’ve never told anyone what I’m working on.”
Rachel sits up, “Oh, of course. I understand complet—”
“I want to tell you.”
Rachel clears her throat, “I’d love to hear it.”
Quinn takes a deep breath, “It’s about two girls who don’t exactly get along in high school, and halfway through, you discover that one of the girls is actually protecting the other one.”
“Protecting her how?”
“She’s a secret agent assigned to protect her. And it’s just about the confusion the other girl goes through as she figures out what was a lie and what wasn’t.”
“Wow.”
“Lame?”
“Amazing. How did you come up with that?”
Quinn shrugs, “I’m not sure.”
Rachel smiles, “See?”
Quinn smirks, “What?”
“I knew you were a good writer.”
Their conversation gets halted by the buzz of Rachel’s cellphone on the table.
“Oh shit,” she mutters as she picks up the phone.
“Miss Berry? Are you okay? You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.”
“Of course, I’m fine. I mentioned to you yesterday that I’d be in late today,” she lies.
“You did?”
Rachel glances across the table towards Quinn and mouths Sorry. “Yes. I did. I will be there soon.”
“Of course. See you soon.”
Rachel pushes her chair back and throws her phone into her bag. She can’t believe she’s been sitting in this coffee shop for nearly forty-five minutes with this person.
“I’m so sorry, I’m incredibly late for work.”
Quinn stands as well.
“I’m sorry again for ruining your shirt.
“It was nice meeting you. And thank you for the coffee. I’m sorry I made you late for work.”
Rachel stops her frantic movements and looks at Quinn, “I enjoyed talking to you.”
She smiles one last time before she turns away and makes her way to the door.
She pushes the glass door open, makes sure there aren’t any other attractive blondes waiting to throw her day completely off course, and falls into the fast paced life that she abandoned for forty-five minutes peaceful minutes.
/
Quinn unlocks the apartment door and drops her bag on the table before falling into the couch with a sigh.
“What’s got you so over the fucking moon?”
“I thought you were working,” Quinn replies, refusing to let anything ruin this “over the moon” feeling.
“Someone covered my shift.”
“I got some writing done,” Quinn supplies.
“It’s about freaking time. I was starting to get tired of the moping around.”
Quinn pulls herself up using the back of the couch, “You’re always a pleasure, Santana.”
She shrugs, “It’s what I do.”
Quinn lays back down on the couch and smiles toward the ceiling, “I met someone.”
She doesn’t hear anything for a few seconds but she knows Santana heard her. She sees her looming over her eventually.
“How’d you meet? Spill.”
Quinn laughs, “That’s exactly what happened.”
“What?”
“She spilled her Caramel Latte on me,” she gestures toward the stain and pulls herself up again, “I hate caramel,” she laughs, “And I don’t want to wash this shirt.”
“That’s weird.”
“Her name is Rachel. I told her about my story.”
“I think I misheard you because it sounded like you said you told this complete stranger about this mysterious story you’ve been writing all summer when you haven’t even told your best fucking friends yet.”
“Calm down.”
Santana rolls her eyes and sits on the coffee table across from her, “So? Did you get her number?”
“No,” she sighs, “How do I even know…”
“If she’s gay?”
Quinn studies her hand, “Or if she’d even want to see me again.”
Santana groans, “God, you baby gays are so annoying. You used to have balls, Fabray.”
Quinn stands, “What do you expect me to do? You’ve been best friends with Brittany for years, it wasn’t like you ever had to get anyone’s number.”
“Fine, I’ll give you that, but now you’ll never know because you were too chicken shit to even ask in the first place.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” Quinn replies as she walks down the hallway into their spare bedroom.
“It’s what I do,” Santana calls back to her as she closes the door.
She leans against it and eyes her iPad that sits on her nightstand.
There might be one way, she’s just not exactly sure if it’s going to work.
/
Rachel winces as she reaches the top of her stairs. She shouldn’t have gone with the wedges today. It’s nearly ten o’clock and all she wants to do is fall into her bed and dream about the hypnotic girl she met earlier. She can’t recall the name of the coffee shop but she isn’t above walking up and down West 51st Street all morning until she spots it.
She slides her apartment door open to find Kurt watching Bravo. Her shoulders drop as she shuffles over to the couch and cuddles next to him.
“Why hello there, how was your day?”
“Terrible, and then wonderful, and then terrible again.”
He awws and wraps an arm around her, “What happened.”
“I was late for work.”
“You left early enough.”
“I was an hour late.”
“Did you get lost?”
“You could say that.”
He maneuvers them, “What happened?”
“I ran into this girl, quite literally, and I just lost track of time.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“I’ve never known anyone or anything that could do that to you.”
“Trust me, it’s been eating at me all day. Which is why rehearsal sucked.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Kurt kisses the top of her forehead. “I’ll make you something to eat.” He stands from the couch and walks toward the kitchen, “Tell me about this magical woman who got under your thick skin.”
Rachel throws her shoes on the floor and stretches out on the couch, “Blonde. Beautiful eyes. Contagious smile. Her laugh,” she sighs, “Her name is Quinn. She’s just… God, she was so breathtaking. And charming.”
“I have to admit, I really haven’t heard this whimsical sounding Rachel Berry in quite some time.”
“I know. I’m annoying myself.”
“It’s not annoying.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, “All I have is a name, and a street where the coffee shop was. I probably will never see her ever again.”
“You didn’t get her number?”
“I ran out of the coffee place once I realized I was ridiculously late for work.”
She hears a pan drop on the stove and Kurt stands above her, a gleam to his eye that suddenly seems blinding.
“A missed connection,” he whispers in awe, as if it’s a magical idea that’s finally concrete.
“What are you—” she finally realizes what he’s saying, “No!” she sits up quickly.
He squeals as he reaches for his laptop, “We have to write one!”
“Kurt, no! That’s so embarrassing.”
“No one will know it’s you. What harm will it do?”
Rachel considers it, even if it goes against everything in her, “Will it work?”
Kurt smiles, probably realizing he’s already got Rachel intrigued.
His fingers work quickly as he pulls up Craigslist and finds the Missed Connections link.
“What will I even say?”
“You leave that to me,” he replies confidently.
“Wait!” she grabs his hand as she reads the screen, “Click that one. The one about Caramel in the City.”
“Why?”
Rachel takes over the track pad and clicks on the link.
Our missed connection:
You spilled latte on my blouse.
Be my coffee-mate?
“It’s her.”
“What?” Kurt’s eyes widen as he reads the words, “Is this you? Did you spill your drink on her?”
“Caramel Latte,” Rachel stares at the screen and reads the words over and over again.
Kurt barely contains the scream as he holds a pillow over his mouth, “Oh, this is so romantic. And you said Missed Connections were stupid. Obviously she doesn’t think so.”
“I told her my dumb roommate reads them all the time.”
“Clever girl.”
“What does this mean?” Rachel asks, looking to him. “What do I do? How do I find her?”
“Can I just say this is my dream come true?”
“I’m serious.”
“Okay, you just have to go back to the coffee place everyday until you see her.”
“Can’t I just write her on here?”
He closes the lap top, “No, it’s more romantic this way.”
“There’s like two coffee places on every block.”
“You’ll be fine. Call in sick tomorrow.”
Rachel stands from the couch, “What do I wear?”
Kurt claps with another squeal and guides her towards the bedroom.
/
Quinn’s fingers tap away at the keys of her laptop and she peers over the screen when she hears the bell jingle on the door.
False alarm.
She glances at the clock. She’s been sitting in the coffee place for almost an hour, wondering if Rachel will walk in. It’s a stretch, but at least she’s making an effort. At least she isn’t chicken shit anymore.
She’s on her second cup and it’s just about done. She promised herself when she walked in that she would stay for at least one cup. When she was done with her first cup, she said she would stay for a second. She needs to draw the line somewhere, however, and as she tilts the cup back one more time, she realizes that it’s probably time to go. She still has errands to run before she meets her roommate for lunch.
She closes her laptop and throws her cup away as she heads for the door.
She’s not sure where her decision to be spontaneous came from. Probably the same place that allowed her to come out, and move to the city for a few months. She spent an hour on her post, unsure if it would even work. She closed her laptop a few times, afraid her long post was bordering on cheesy, when inspiration struck her.
Inspiration seemed to like popping up now that she’s met Rachel.
She knew as she hit send, there was a huge chance that Rachel would never see the post or connect that it was about her. It was a long shot to begin with but she had to do something.
The heat from the late morning hits her face first as she opens the glass door of the coffee shop, followed by the sounds of cars honking and police car sirens in the distance, followed by a body.
“Shoot, sorry!”
Quinn steps away, “I’m sorry.”
She really needs to look where she’s going. Twice in two days? Not a good thing.
“You’re here. I mean, hi?”
Quinn looks up and sees Rachel with flushed cheeks and a tentative smile, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Quinn smiles wide and steps further onto the sidewalk, “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again.”
“Did you know that there are twelve coffee shops on this side of the street, alone?”
“You counted?”
“I couldn’t remember the name of this one.”
“You found it eventually,” Quinn offers.
“I saw your Missed Connection.”
“And you’re still here.” She notes, hoping it’s somewhat of a good sign.
“Yeah.”
Quinn gnaws on her lower lip as she thinks of something to say, “Can I buy you a coffee?”
Rachel smiles, “I’d like that.”
Quinn opens the door and gestures for Rachel to go in ahead of her. As they get up to the counter, Rachel studies the board.
“Do you know what you want?”
“Caramel Latte. Please.”
The barista reaches the counter and Quinn holds up two fingers, “Two Caramel Lattes, please?”
