It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Why the hell were they outside? Do people not have 9 to 5 jobs in LA, why were they going to a tiny coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon in 95 degree weather?
Why was it 95 degrees? It’s almost November. Star City would be negative 80 by now.
“Are you okay?” Quinn stopped dead in her tracks, turning to look at Q and almost tripping him in the process.
He regained his posture and looked at her with a confused expression. He didn’t even say anything.
“I didn’t even say anything?”
“You’ve been groaning and sighing off and on for the last 10 minutes.” Eliza told him, not looking back at the two siblings. She was too focused on the menu board outside of the coffee shop.
“Oh, that.” He gestured towards Eliza, and gave Quinn a smile. “It’s fucking miserable out here.”
“Aw, baby Quincy doesn’t like the sun.” Quinn gave him a mocking frown, turning out to look at the menu with Eliza. “Go in and order something then.
“I didn’t even want to come, why would I be the one to order-”
“Because we like it out here and you’re clearly having a bad time.” Quinn explained. “There’s a to go window right here, we’ll order out here. You can go cool off inside, get an iced coffee or something, and meet us when you’re chill.”
“Mentally and physically.” Eliza added, finally turning to look at him.
He looked between the two girls. They clearly weren’t interested in any argument he was going to put up as they went back to the menu, walking up to the to go window on the side of the small building.
He groaned one last time before fixing his posture one more time before walking inside the coffee shop.
He really didn’t understand why he chose to go with these two. They’re always going from place to place. It is never a trip to Target and only Target. It’s always “Well, this place is 5 minutes away” or “Wait, we forgot to buy stamps”
Luckily, the car is parked 3 blocks away and if this coffee run turns into more of a coffee hang out, he can just take the keys from his sister and go back to the apartment.
“Can I help you?” The woman behind the counter asked, bringing his attention back to earth once again.
“Can you give me the money I need for my student debt?”
“If I could do that, would I be working here?” She asked in return.
He nodded, taking a step closer to the counter. “Fair.” He looked up at the menu hanging behind her. “I don’t really like coffee that much.”
“Then you came to the wrong place.”
“Clearly.” He looked back down at her. “What would you get?”
“Not coffee if I didn’t like it.”
“Is there another option?”
She turned around, looking at the menu for herself, then turned back to him. “Water.”
“I’ll take a black coffee.” He responded so quickly, she had to have wondered if he even heard her suggestion.
She narrowed her brows. “For someone who doesn’t like coffee, you’re really diving right in.”
He shrugged. “I’m not gonna like it regardless.”
“Are you a masochist? Is that what’s happening here?”
“Excuse me?”
She leaned on the counter. “You don’t like coffee, you’re wearing a jacket in this weather-”
“I was forced to be here.”
“Someone force you on a plane from New York? Or was the jacket just a fashion choice?”
He looked at his light brown jacket. It might not have been the best decision in the heat....maybe it was a fashion choice.
“You know, you got me. I flew in this morning for that Victoria Secret show that’s happening on Saturday. I was testing the look for the red carpet...Clearly it’s made an impression. I might wear this.”
She raised her brows now, tilting her head slightly to the left. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
He shrugged again, now he was leaning on the counter. “Was it funny enough to be considered a joke?”
“No.”
“Then no.” He stood back up, putting his hands behind his back.
She nodded, turning around to poor a cup of black coffee. “In or out?” She asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Are you staying in or are you going out?”
“Well, I’m not staying in or else I wouldn’t be here.”
“You think you’re a lot funnier than you actually are.” She told him, turning back around with a to-go cup full of black coffee. She sat it on the counter. “$3.75.”
Sure...that was...a joke. Yeah. He could work with that. He took his wallet out from his back pocket and handed her the first card available.
“You know, that’s actually not the first time I’ve heard that today.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She took the card, swiped it through the machine, hit a few buttons, and handed it back to him. “Do you have a name? A real one? Not the one you call yourself when you’re dressed up as your clown persona.”
He put the card back in his wallet and returned the wallet to his pocket. Clown persona? The thought of that made him want to laugh...or cry....was this really what his life has come to? Nearly 400k in student debt and he’s a fucking clown. Wonderful.
“Q.” He answered after a second.
“The....letter Q or the wait time?”
A confused expression appeared on his face. “Do....Do you meet people with the name Queue often? Or- Obviously the letter.”
“I was just making sure. You were so confident in saying it, you’ve already been joking-”
“No one has the name- Q is a common nickname.”
“It’s not even your real name? That’s a little suspicious.”
“It’s a....version of my real name. That’s how nicknames work.”
She nodded slowly. “And you tell people your nickname before your actual name?”
“It’s not sentimental. It’s a name. It’s short. It’s easy-”
“So, what’s on your birth certificate then?”
“I....don’t know you well enough for that.”
“Mm.” She nodded again. Taking a step back and crossing her arms.
“Do you have a name? Or do you just...judge other people until you find one you like?”
“Mostly the second one.” She admitted. “A.”
Q’s shoulders dropped. He resisted any urge he had to even react to that, picked up the coffee cup on the counter, and gave her a small wave with the hand that held the coffee. “Have a nice day-”
“Wait-”
“No one is named A. It’s not a real name, it’s not even a nickname.” He turned back around to look at her, sitting his coffee on the counter once more.
“You’re gatekeeping having a single letter name? Wow.”
“I’m gatekeeping making fun of me. Only I can do that.”
She laughed. It was a nice laugh. It was a laugh that made him stop and think about how nice it sounded. And then question why he stopped to think deeper on the fact that this stranger, who he doesn’t know the name of, had a nice laugh.
“Fine.” She threw her hands up in surrender. “You can call me Ash.”
He cleared his throat. Noticing that he had, once again, been lost in thought. “See? That’s a real nickname....Ashley?”
“No.” She shook her head with a grin.
He raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“Nope.”
He took a step back, trying to hide the smile forming on his face. “No, Now I can’t trust you.”
“What do you mean?”
“What other name could you possibly have?”
“I’ll tell you when you tell me.” She leaned on the counter once again.
He thought for a second, looked back towards the door, Quinn and Eliza were waiting on the curb for him, clearly they’ve been there a minute.
“Unless your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.” She added, testing the waters.
“I...” He trailed off, turning back to look at her. “I’d like to not tell you my name...But I don’t know if-”
“I understand.” She stood back up, turning around to clean up the other counter opposite of where she was before.
“No,” He shook his head. “You really don’t.” He looked at the girls again, then back at her. “That’s my sister and her friend. I’m sleeping on their couch because I quit my job back home and my girlfriend just broke up with me last week so...”
She glanced at him over her shoulder.
“Kinda early.” He picked up his coffee once more before turning around to walk out of the building.
Despite everything telling him to keep walking, there was a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to do the exact opposite. And for the millionth time, the smallest, most insignificant voice, is the one that wins.
He stopped in his tracks, sat his coffee down on the table by the door, and walked up to the counter, standing up straight and full of false confidence, nerves so intense that he feels like if he spoke his voice would crack and all of this build up would be for nothing.
“Fuck it.” He said. Immediately, putting his hand to his forehead for a second. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Will you go out with me?”
She leaned on the counter closer to the wall, arms crossed. “I don’t know if I wanna get involved if things are complicated-”
“Then we’re literally never going to speak again.” He blurted out. “This might be as good as it gets.”
She scoffed, trying to hide the smile now forming on her face.
“So...Do you wanna maybe...”
“Meet me here around 7 tomorrow night?” She walked up to the counter.
He nodded. “I will see you then.”
And with that, he walked back towards the door, taking his coffee one last time, and leaving the coffee shop to meet Eliza and Quinn on the counter.
Quinn lowered the sunglasses on her face to her nose, “What got into you in there?” She asked, narrowing her brows to study him better.
He raised a brow at her. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’re bouncy.” She gestured to him. He was standing still currently, but it was clear she was talking about how he walked over to them.
He shrugged. “Caffeine does the mind well.”
She rolled her eyes, pulling her glasses back up to her eyes. And Q let out a quiet sigh of relief. He did not want Quinn to get any enjoyment out of his potential date. She’d take credit for it and he doesn’t need that.
Being surrounded by chaotic scientists, magicians, mechanics, and fire starters has given Ronnie an extra ability in life. An ability most people already have built in, but his is brought to new heights because of his lifestyle.
He has the ability to easily sense smoke and figure out where it's coming from with no issue.
You would think that he'd grow used to the smell of fire after years and years of becoming it. But no, it just made him more aware. Which was a good thing.
So when he walked into Eliza's apartment one morning, he could tell something was wrong.
He opened up the door, paused, took a step further into the apartment, shut the door, threw his keys onto the table by the door, and walked straight into the kitchen.
"Quinn, what the fuck are you doing?" He started as he rounded the corner. Naturally, it would be Quinn in the kitchen. She was the chef in the apartment. But he paused again, not sure why he was surprised to see his girlfriend in front of a smoking oven and not the resident cook.
"Liz..." He started again, slowing his pace as he continued forward. He put his hands behind his back and tried to catch a glimpse at whatever was burning in the pan as he got closer. "What're you doing?"
Eliza turned to look at him, turning the oven off and throwing the pan into the sink. "Nothing." She shrugged. "How was work?" Directing him away from the stove by the shoulders, she pulled him into the living room.
"Fine." He replied, skeptical, still looking back at the pan in the sink. "Lot less heated than the kitchen." He answered, bringing his focus to Eliza.
She waved away his comment. "So nothing eventful happened then?" She asked, still trying to bring him away from the kitchen.
"Liz, what did you do?" Ronnie asked, changing the subject. He was slightly amused by her determination to avoid whatever disaster had struck.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She replied innocently....But she was Oliver Queen's daughter.
"You..." Ronnie dropped a few inches to her level, "Are a terrible liar." He gave her a tap on the nose before standing up straight and walking back over to the kitchen.
"I tried making my dad's fried rice with chicken." She finally gave in, following Ronnie to the ruined pan in the sink.
Ronnie took a look at the pan, then brought his focus to Eliza once more. "Did it go well?" He asked, trying to hold in his laughter.
"I hate you." She rolled her eyes, moving around him to look at the pan. "I'm throwing this whole thing out. I'll buy a new one."
"Quinn is gonna kill you."
"I'm getting her a new one." Eliza repeated, turning around to face Ronnie. "I wanted to make you something nice."
Ronnie raised an eyebrow. "Me? Why me?"
"You're my boyfriend."
"I don't need chicken and rice to be your boyfriend."
"You've never had my dad's fried rice." Eliza told him.
Ronnie shrugged. "I'm sure...if yours wasn't burnt to a crisp in the bottom of that pan...it would taste...like something."
"I'm never doing anything nice for you again." Eliza rolled her eyes.
"No, I appreciate the thought." Ronnie took a step forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. "But in the future, try avoiding the oven."
Eliza stuck her tongue out at him in response as he pulled away and walked towards the front door. "Come on, let's get Quinn a new pan before she gets home."
Ronnie looked at the sink, then at his girlfriend. "What about the rice?" He pointed to the pan in the sink.
"I'll throw it out when we get back." She said, already walking out the door. Ronnie just shrugged and followed her out, grabbing his keys along the way.
Vigilantes are fleeting, Friendship is forever! // Late Night Gang
Another day, another uninvited guest.
Thomas and Jade stood in front of Oliver and Felicity in the bunker. This was beginning to feel like a regular occurrence considering how many times Thomas has had to explain why he of all people knew this new vigilante.
Of all the earths and universes, somehow all of his friends end up here.
This is a good thing, they suppose. If this wasn't the earth everyone somehow get redirected to, they wouldn't have Thomas. Thomas wouldn't have Jade or Clara. They wouldn't have Clara or Rosie. And so on.
But eventually it has to stop, right?
"Explain to me one more time why this girl wants you dead?" Oliver asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Thomas held his hand up to stop her before she could continue. "We...aren't the ones she wants dead. And she doesn't even know we're us so...she's harmless."
"Harmless with a bow and league training and a taste for Green Arrow and Wild Dog blood specifically." Felicity popped in.
"She blames the vigilantes for not saving her parents. But she doesn't know that we're the vigilantes from her earth." Thomas repeated using a different phrasing. It was still confusing, Felicity still had plenty of questions, but Thomas was Oliver's son.
And being Oliver's son means that when he wants to believe that there is a glimmer of hope in one of his friends, he will die on that hill. He will quite literally die if this friend wants him dead. But that's a later problem.
"I'll talk to her." Thomas decided.
Jade turned to him. "And say what? Hey, we all ended up on the same earth and there also happens to be two vigilantes who look like our vigilantes? What a coincidence."
"What do you want me to do?" He looked over at her. "Avoid her?"
"Maybe she'll pass through." Felicity suggested. "Leave in the morning?"
Thomas shook his head, looking at Felicity. "Even if she did....I'm not sure I want her to just leave."
"Why not?" Jade raised an eyebrow. "Our friendship was basically in pieces before her parents died, you want to pick things up years later on another earth?"
"In pieces or not, she's our friend. And she's gonna know who we are if she does a little bit of research. There's no point in hiding it."
"Tommy-"
"She's your friend."
Jade groaned, crossing her arms, looking st Oliver. "I blame you for this."
"Why me?" He asked, surprised to be brought back into the conversation.
"Your stubborn genetics created this."
"No one created this." Thomas waved off her comment. "I'm gonna find Brandy, we'll talk it out, it'll be fine." He explained, clearly not listening to anyone else as he walked off.
"Why is he so invested? How did they meet?" Felicity asked, walking over to where Thomas previously stood next to Jade.
"She was like a sister to him because their parents were friends. He has a hard time letting things go." Jade sighed, turning to face the computers that projected a picture of a small hooded figure on a roof. "Melina is one of those things."
A series where I will write whatever I can, making as much sense as possible, when tired but hit with inspiration
The store was lit with florescent lights. It made no sense for a farmers market to be lit up with artificial lighting. But this was the city in the heart of the state of rain and the sun was hard to come by.
Aside from the choice of lighting, the market was nice. There was fresh produce everywhere and tons of people excited about the new fruits and vegetables coming in the season.
Christine didn't really understand the hype, but her uncle has the same reactions so she knows whatever it is, it's good that it's happening.
She usually made these trips to the market with him. Today, however, he was busy and had to cancel. She was already prepared to go out today so she went alone.
Probably not the best idea. But she had faith in herself. She was gonna prove to her uncle and her sister....and her parents....and her roommate.... that she knew how to purchase real food that would sustain her.
Knowing how to cook the food that will sustain her is a problem she will figure out later.
Right now, she was just going to walk around and pick out anything that looked healthy. Maybe she would ask around. Maybe she would pretend to know what the hell that woman with the grape leaves was talking about. It just depends how she feels when the moment arrives.
Something she could not avoid was the candle section. A fairly new addition to this particular market, but it was her favorite spot.
Freshly made candles with all sorts of scents. They sat nicely on a table with a friendly looking woman standing behind them and a friendly looking man stocking up the rest of the candles from a box full of bubble wrap and packing peanuts.
Christine walked right up to the table, gave the man and woman a smile, and reached for the first candle that looked interesting.
A rainbow cat.
Definitely interesting. Not something you would usually see at a farmer's market. It was different. She liked it.
"How much?" She asked, looking back up at the woman behind the counter.
The woman looked at the candle, then back at Christine. "You don't know the scent?"
She shook her head in response. "I'm not burning it. I'll buy another to burn. I want this on my bookshelf."
The woman nodded, told her the price, and added that if she were to purchase 3 candles, she could get one for free.
Christine knew this game. It's a trick to get you to spend more money on something you never needed. But these are candles... who doesn't need a candle?
She looked at the other options. She picked out a Honey Bee candle that smelt vaguely like a summer memory and placed it right beside the cat on the table as she looked around for more.
She didn't need more than 1 candle right now. She was happy with her yellow Honey Bee and rainbow cat. But she does have friends who might want a candle....
She picked up a Dark green candle in the shape of a tree. This one is forest scented. Perfect for Bex. She rarely gets to the cabin anymore because of her busy schedule.
Now she just needed one more...
"Rook?"
Christine's head popped up, her focus turning away from the candles and towards the voice that would be unmistakable even if he hadn't called her by that annoying nickname.
She narrowed her eyes. "Detective." She replied, crossing her arms as she turned her body towards him.
"What are you doing?" Aidan asked, looking past her to see the candle selection.
"Buying my weekly groceries." She said in a tone that made it seem like that should have been obvious. He was dumb to have even asked. Clearly that is what she was doing.
"You eat candles?" He took a step, stopping right by her side.
She rolled her eyes, turning back towards the table and the woman behind it.
"Ignore him. I'll take that one." Christine pointed to a light brown candle on the corner of the table.
Aidan looked down at Christine. "You can't randomly choose-"
"It's a coffee scented candle." She interrupted, handing the woman some cash in exchange for a small box with the 4 candles inside. "I've done my research already."
"How long have you been standing here?" Aidan asked, following her as she began to walk off.
She placed the box of candles in her shopping basket, put pulled out the light brown one and handed it to Aidan. "Long enough."
"What's this?" He asked, taking the candle from her and looking at it.
"A candle." She answered. This time her tone was appropriate. It was a dumb question that he asked. He just saw her buy it.
"Why?"
She shrugged. "It was either this one for you, or a burning rubber for Ben, and I don't live with you."
"I don't use candles."
"Well, now you do." She told him as she lead the way to the fruit section.
"This is going to waste."
"It'll look cute next to all of your unpacked boxes that are collecting dust in your living room." She told him, gently moving past every person in her way.
"Or it'll get added to a box."
"Well, either way, you can't say I never gave you anything." She turned to give him a smile. "Now I owe you nothing for this." She held her free hand up to touch the small pendant on her neck.
Aidan sighed. He wasn't getting away with not taking this candle. "Thanks."
"You are welcome." She smiles again, bigger and brighter this time.
"Now," She looked around. "Let's find the snacks."
Jade sat alone on the curb, watching as every car passed her by without a second glance. She didn’t expect any of them to stop and if they did, she’d ignore them anyway.
She wasn’t waiting on anyone to come by and pick her up. She was just waiting until enough time went by. Waiting for everyone else to leave before she could make her way home.
One by one, her classmates were picked up from the line of cars. Their parents giving them a smile as they got into the car. Jade would wave to each of them, most would wave back.
She also wasn’t looking to make friends. She just wanted to seem friendly so no one would suspect anything was wrong.
The final cars started to pile into the line, the remaining students crowded the curb. Now it was time for Jade to go.
She stood up from the curb, looked over her shoulder to make sure her teacher was paying attention to the kids crowding the curb, keeping them safe from the parent parade.
She ducked behind the crowd of kids her age, sneaking through towards the signature sheet to sign off her name before running towards the back of the school.
Once she knew she was out of sight from everyone in front of the school, her speed slowed and she began to walk.
The school was about a mile from where she lived. She’s been making this walk every day for the last 3 years. Before that point, she would take the bus or her mom would come and get her. But now the bus driver asks too many questions and her mom is...Her mom.
She’s 10 now and the walk is nothing. She does it daily. She goes easy in gym so she can easily make the mile walk home. As long as she can figure out how to get a bike before heading to High School in a few years, she’ll be fine.
The walk home was a little bit harder today because it had rained about an hour before school let out. The roads in this area were cracked and full of holes, the sidewalk was made of mud and dead grass. Her house was placed in the middle of all of the other houses that looked the exact same.
Broken windows that needed to be fixed, the temporary fix was cardboard or wooden planks. A porch being held together with randomly stacked bricks. Stairs full of splinters because they were breaking in half. A roof with a large tree branch right above it. One day it’ll snap and the whole house will cave in. But that day wasn’t today apparently.
There was one thing different about her house today, though. Today, she had company over. Well, company standing by the steps, a nice car pulled up directly in front of her house. She slowed down even more, studying the situation.
She was so careful leaving school. She always has been. She only slipped up one day that her mom and dad weren’t coming but Timmy tells so many lies that no one would believe him anyway if he had told Mrs Bleacher.
The man was in a suit, the woman was in a nice dress. Jade contemplated turning around and heading for the Watersons’ backyard. They had a tire swing she could do her homework on until these people left. Her parents always told her to hide if anyone like this showed up. She should hide.
Jade took one more step forward before slowly turning around to head towards her neighbor’s house.
Something stopped her from following through, though. A small ball hitting the back of her foot. She turned around, looked at the ball, and glanced up slowly to see where it came from.
Straight across from her, behind the man in the suit and the woman in the dress, there was a little boy. He looked around her age, maybe a year older. He pointed to the ball, waiting in his spot.
Jade looked back down at the green ball with an arrow sticker placed on it, she then looked back up at the boy. She didn’t know what this was about. She knew she should run in the other direction just in case. But the situation was just strange enough that it might work out.
So she took a step back, and kicked the ball forward towards the boy.
Bex adjusted her watch outside of the hospital, looking up at the building in front of her. The weather was cloudy, a little bit chilly, chances of rain were about 50%. Perfect for her first day of work. She felt a hand on her shoulder, she glanced to her right to make sure it was who she thought.
"Ready?" Tommy asked, moving his hand from her shoulder when she looked over at him.
She nodded, looking back at the building. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Eliza stood on the sidewalk in front of the airport. There weren’t many people with her since it was the middle of March and she had no reason to be home. But her dad told her there was a family emergency and she needed to come home as soon as possible. No injuries, no sickness, nothing bad. Just an emergency.
She didn’t want to be back in the city this soon. She’d only been gone a few weeks. But whatever her dad wanted to say couldn’t be done over facetime, so she had no choice but to come home to see what all of the fuss was about.
She checked her phone for the time. Her dad was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago to pick her up. His car was nowhere to be seen. They would have called if something came up, but who knows with this city anymore.
Ready to dial the number on the taxi service poster behind her, a grey Dodge Challenger rolled up in front of her and honked.
She took a step back so that whoever the car was here for could get to it without passing her. She didn’t know whether or not to call her dad before calling a cab. She didn’t want to ride in a cab, but she also didn’t want to wait outside in the trademarked Star City rain any longer.
“Elizabeth!”
She looked up from her phone, glancing at the people around her. No one was paying her any mind. She shrugged it off and continued to look down at her phone.
“You wanna ride or not?”
She looked up again. This time, she noticed the windows of the Challenger were down and the driver was looking right at her. She’s never seen this guy before, so she had two options.
Ignore him. Or pretend to be anyone but the daughter of the former mayor who is also the Green Arrow.
Option three.
“Who are you?” She asked, not moving from her spot. She was in direct view of the cameras on the building behind her, she was not changing that.
“Thomas.”
“Okay...” She looked around. “I’m gonna wait for my parents.”
“I was told to come get you. Oliver’s stuck in the Bunker and Will and Felicity are in a meeting until 5.”
Eliza bent down, trying to get a closer look at this guy. But she still didn’t have a clue who he was. “I’m good. I’ll get a cab. Thanks.” She looked down at her phone again, but still keeping a close eye on the man in the car.
“Do you really not know who I am?”
“Someone who’s bad at their kidnapping job?” She replied, dialing the cab company’s number finally.
“I’m your brother.”
She froze, sighed, then put her phone away and picked up her bags. She walked over to the car, opened up the trunk, tossed her things into it, then helped herself into the passenger’s side of the car.
“That- That’s it?” He asked her, leaning away from her. “You have no proof that I’m telling the truth.”
“You look like my dad, my dad said there was a family emergency, my little sister is from another earth.” She looked over at him. “This is a normal day in Star City.”
The following days were filled with more unpacking, another grocery shopping trip with Tommy, and way more back and forth texts with Miriam and Owen than Q would ever care to admit. On one end of those texts, he was sending Owen samples of music that he would listen to until he hated just to get an outside opinion. On the other end, Miriam kept questioning him and asking why he changed moods after dinner.
Both of these conversations Q hated being a part of. He didn't want an outside opinion on the music he sent Owen because he hated it, but he needed the outside opinion so he could stop forcing himself to come up with 100 different melodies just to decide he didn't like any of them. One of them had to work, and Owen was trusted to give him an honest opinion. And the conversations with Miriam were met with mostly him dodging her questions and changing the topic, which only brought up more questions. It wouldn't be long until everyone knew what was going on, but he planned on keeping things at bay for as long as possible.
By the end of the day Monday, Q decided to go down to the bar. He didn't plan on drinking, but he just needed a new place to sit and question his entire existence, and the bar seemed appropriate for that. Though, if he did order a beer, it wouldn't hurt anyone. His mom was out of town again and Quinn was in Vegas with their grandparents, no one was going to catch him at the bar that no one goes to downtown.
He walked inside and found a spot at the bar almost immediately, ignoring the overlapping noise and conversations by the other people in the building. It was much more packed tonight than it was when he was here a little over a week ago, but he couldn't really complain because the more people that were here, the less likely he was to be recognized should any of his family show up.
As he sat down and ordered a beer, he pulled out a small notebook and pen from his jacket pocket, sitting it on the bar in front of him and studying it as if it was a college essay. He wasn't sure how long he sat there reading over the things he had written inside of it, but after however much time went by, there was a tap on his shoulder as someone sat next to him.
He looked up, then over, a smile immediately appearing on his face before he could catch himself. "Beth?"
"Hey, stranger." She returned the smile, swinging her purse onto the bar as she got seated properly on the bar stool. "What are you reading?"
Q looked down at the notebook for a second before closing it and stuffing it and the pen back into his pocket. "I may have signed myself up for a.... creative obligation." He rolled his eyes, moving in his seat to face Bethany. "I've not done anything like that since before graduating med school, so..." He trailed, looking down at Bethany's hand. She wasn't wearing her ring again, his brows furrowed as he looked back up at her face.
She caught his look and hid her hand under the other one. "How've you been?"
Q wiped his previous expression off of his face as he considered her question. "I've definitely been." He let out a small laugh, he gestured to her. "What about you? Did you finish picking out your furniture?"
She nodded, a tired look appearing on her face. "After four more hours."
"That's... ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous."
"Should have just joined you for food." She laughed, looking over to the bartender and placing an order for the same beer that Q was drinking.
"Well, there's always time in the future." He shrugged, tapping on the bar as he watched her. Once she got her beer, she took a drink from it then looked over at him.
"What?" She tilted her head at him.
"Where's the ring?" He blurted out, not necessarily wanting to start with that, but ripping off the bandage was always easiest. "I- You said you don't wear it, is there a reason?"
Bethany looked down at her hand, then back up at him. "No." She answered simply, a smile on her face. It wasn't a meaningful or genuine smile, but it didn't look forced. Either she got better at lying, or Q just forgot how to read her after this long apart. She took a sip from her beer, not breaking eye contact with him. His brows furrowed.
"So, where is it?" Q repeated after a minute of silence between them.
"Where's what?" She raised an eyebrow, sitting her bottle down on the bar, tapping the glass on the side of it lightly with her nails.
"The-" Q let out a sigh, looked down, then back up at her. "What's his name?"
Bethany looked around the bar, Q assumed it was to avoid answering the question. She met his gaze again after a moment, giving him a small shrug as she reached for her beer again. "Andy."
Q nodded, looking at his own beer, then back at her. "Is he good to you?"
She shrugged again, taking a sip from her bottle before putting it down again. "I'm engaged to him for a reason." She replied, her tone sounding a bit annoyed. Q wondered if he was the cause of this.
They didn't end on bad terms, but they also didn't really ever.... end. And maybe not ending a relationship, even if just a short lived one between childhood friends, can cause issues in future relationships. Actually, the more he thought about it, there was no maybe to this. He has always had a difficult time moving past the idea of being with Bethany, or seeing her again because of how things ended. It didn't stop him from moving on, but it did make it harder to connect sometimes. And it definitely made longer lasting or more serious relationships more difficult to trust. Q has managed to self-sabotage a few of those already. Still, the tone in her voice made it seem like he did something. Maybe he was overthinking it.
"Well, I'm-.." He hesitated, watching her raise her brows at him as he started, he looked down at his shoes. "I'm happy for you." He finished before he looked back up at her face.
She nodded, "It's... Definitely crazy."
"When's the wedding?" The alternative at this moment was to let the conversation drift into silence, he definitely wasn't ready to leave and Bethany got here not too long ago. Continuing this conversation would save them from an awkward few minutes until one of them brought up something else.
"Not sure." She answered with no hesitation, picking up her beer bottle, looking at it for a second, then sitting it down again. "Do you want honesty?" She looked over at him, resting her elbow on the bar so she could lean on her hand. Q nodded, shifting in his spot a bit, not realizing it was mimicking her until he was leaned to the side a bit. "I don't know why I said yes." She let out a sad laugh, clearly she was trying to keep the mood up but her eyes let out the truth. "I've been pushing off all planning for awhile..."
"Do you wanna talk about it?" He offered, leaning a little closer to her, but still leaving enough space so that it was a friendly lean and not an ex boyfriend getting too close lean. "It can help."
She eyed him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? Talking helps?" She laughed, crossing her arms. "What about LA girl?"
"What about LA girl?" Q sat back up, reaching for his beer again. Now it was his turn to take a swig and not break eye contact.
"Does she have a name?"
Q shrugged, sitting his beer down on the bar and watching Bethany fiddle with a bracelet on her wrist. When he brought his eyes back up, he noticed that her expression had softened since he looked away. It went from a teasing and friendly look to one of... not exactly pity, but it felt like it. He shook his head, bringing his attention to his beer as he slid it further back on the bar.
"I can't sit here anymore."
"You just got here." She pointed out, watching him stand from his seat and stuff his hands into his coat pockets. "I just got here not even 10 minutes ago." She corrected, realizing that maybe she didn't know how long he'd been here or how much he's had to drink before she saw him.
"You stay," He gestured to the bar, looking down at her. "I'm gonna head home. I have a..." He sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a second then back down at her. "Show to prepare for."
Bethany shot up in her seat. "A show?" A smile grew on her face faster than he had a chance to process that she had just shot up 3 inches in front of him. "What kind of show?"
"I'm opening for Bex in a few weeks, she needs someone to entertain and asked me to do it after everyone else was busy." He explained, shrugging. "It's nothing big."
"Bull!" She stood up from her seat, ready to follow him out the door. "Let's focus on that. That's way more fun than wallowing in self-pity and talking about our relationships." She started for the door, Q hesitated, looked around the bar, then followed her out. He had no other choice but to assume that they were both going to his apartment.
***
After an hour of Q sitting on the floor, once again, fighting with his own melodies on the keyboard in front of him, he looked up at Bethany on the couch a few feet away. "So, what if I just screamed for 20 fucking minutes?" He asked, his tone entirely serious. "I could just.... What if I just scream?"
"I mean..." Bethany looked around the ceiling of the apartment, her eyes darting across the cracks that Q was just now realizing were there. She then met his gaze again, "Are you gonna play music while screaming?"
"Now you're asking for too much." He sighed, leaning back against a shelf. "Play something and scream?" He shook his head. "That's above my pay grade."
"How much are you getting paid?" She asked, curling up into a ball in the corner of the couch. She pulled one of the blankets from the back of the couch down to cover her shoulders before eventually covering her entire body underneath it.
"I don't know." He laughed, sitting back up and pressing down a few keys again. "I'm just doing it for Bex, I don't really care."
"It feels like nothing changed." Bethany stated, causing Q to look up at her again. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows. She stuck out one arm to point at the piano before hiding it under the green blanket again. "You down there with the piano, me up here." She shrugged. "All that's missing is some pizza and your sister."
Q rolled his eyes, "I can do the pizza," He reached for his phone on the coffee table on the other side of the piano. "Quinn, I can do without."
"I thought things were better?"
He looked up at Bethany, shaking his head before turning it to a nod. "Yeah, it's- Things are fine. She just worries a lot." He explained, looking back to his phone to order a pizza. "I like not being in LA for that reason."
"Harder to worry when you're hundreds of miles away from each other and all she knows is what you tell her over the phone." Bethany explained further, taking a shot at it. Q nodded to confirm her theorizing. "What happened to it's good to talk? What happened to 'talking helps'?" She revealed her hands again to air quote him from earlier.
"There's nothing to talk about." He finished placing the order for the pizza, then tossed it phone back to the coffee table. He did it with enough speed that it would make it to the table, but not enough force to cause it to bounce of scratch anything. It wasn't only his phone that he was trying to protect, but the coffee table that was brand new. If he was going to break something, it was not going to be his glass coffee table in his first week at his new apartment. "Pizza's coming." He brought his hands back to the piano on the ground in front of him, hitting a few notes before looking back up at Bethany, a strange sense washing over him that she was still watching.
"Do I at least get her name?"
"No." He shot her a quick smile before diving back into his own world with the music he was attempting to make.
Bethany knew this side of him more than she knew the doctor side. By the time that Q decided he was going to be a doctor, they decided that they would probably not be able to be a couple in college. When he wanted music, they were going to go to schools that were close together, but then he changed paths. And she was okay with it, even if she didn't fully understand it. He loved music, and he loved helping people, but she always thought he would choose the music. Now, sitting on his couch that she saw him buy a week ago, watching him try to remind himself how to play certain notes and which keys to avoid after not playing in who knows how many years, hearing about him quitting from the clinic after just starting. The physical aspect reminded her of when they were in high school, but Q was clearly a lot different now. All she could do was hope that he would give her a chance to learn the new him.
Some time went by before the pizza came, most of it was filled with the sound of Q carefully pressing keys, missing one, hitting a bunch of them, then starting from the beginning. Bethany was used to this version of him. He looked different, but he was the same kid deep inside. Once the pizza arrives, Q sat the keyboard up against the wall and served dinner on a large plate. He handed Bethany a bottle of sprite and sat the plate and his sprite on the coffee table as he made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch. Bethany looked at the TV, then over at Q as he reached for a piece of pizza.
"I missed you."
He looked up at her, clearly caught off guard by what she said, but a smile formed quickly. "I missed you too."
She returned the smile, then reached for her own slice of pizza, tossing the TV remote back at Q before coming back up to her spot on the couch. "What do you wanna watch?"
"Not a horror." He shook his head, taking the remote from the seat between them. "It's way too late at night for that."
Bethany looked at her watch, then rolled her eyes. "It's not that late-"
"It's too late for a horror movie." He repeated. "It can be too late for a horror movie and not be too late to stay up for a different movie."
"Okay." She laughed, taking a bite of pizza. She waited for him to flip through a few different options as they both ate their pizza before she stole the remote from him.
"Hey-"
"Eat." She handed another piece of pizza to trade, not looking back at him as she sorted through movies. "What about a comedy?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't want to laugh, I'm an incredibly sad person now." He reached over for the remote, but she moved before he could get it. He sighed, tossing the pizza back onto the plate and leaning back on the couch. "No romance either, I saw that." He pointed to the TV as the screen went black to load up a movie option that Bethany chose.
"It's not a romance." She sat the remote on the coffee table, sinking in her spot on the couch.
"Really? What was the genre that started with an R, then?" He looked over at her, leaning closer to try to intimidate her to admitting it, but she ignored him.
"R rated." She shrugged, a laugh trying to escape when she answered.
"Appropriate." He leaned back in his corner, shaking his head and bringing his attention to the TV.
The movie opened up with a wedding, Q looked over at Bethany with a raised eyebrow. She continued watching it for a minute longer, then turned it off and turned to him. "Movies are overrated." Q nodded, watching her look for something else to fill the silence.
"Do you wanna stay here tonight?" He asked after a few minutes. She looked over at him. "It's kinda late, I don't know where you're staying-"
"Yeah." She nodded. "Your couch is pretty comfortable."
"I've been sleeping on it." He agreed, bringing his attention back to the TV.
"Wait, why?"
"Hm?" He turned to her again.
"Why are you sleeping on the couch?"
"Because...." He looked towards the hallway beside the TV, then back at Bethany. "It's comfortable."
"You're afraid of your own apartment." She shook her head, teasing clear in her tone.
"I get cold back there."
"Get a heater." She shrugged, then looked over at him again. "Or a ghostbuster." Her eyes went wide.
"Ha ha ha." He rolled his eyes. "You can see for yourself tonight."
"Wow, first time hanging out in 7 years and you're inviting me to bed." She let out a fake shocked gasp. "Quincy..." She shook her head with a disappointed look on her face, teasing still very clear in her voice.
"Alright, no," He stood up, "You can sleep on the couch then. I'll go back there." He moved around the coffee table, backing towards the hallway. "But you're really gonna hate your own bed if you sleep on the couch."
"I'm okay with it." She nodded, sinking further in her seat.
Q paused, then walked back over to the couch. "Go." He gestured towards the hall.
"No, why do you not want me to sleep on the couch?"
"I'm being a nice host."
"Is your bed that uncomfortable?"
Q looked over his shoulder, then back down at Bethany. When he looked back at her, she was standing up in front of him. He took a step back to put a little more space between them. "Yes."
She crossed her arms, breaking the gap and stepping forward. She was eyeing him like she would when they were kids and Q wasn't exactly sure if taking another step back would matter or if she would just step forward again.
"I told you, I get cold." He said, copying her and crossing his arms now.
"And I told you to get a heater." She replied, tilting her head to the side slightly.
"It's not a heat thing." He mumbled, turning away from her and walking back over towards the piano against the wall. He touched a few of the keys, debating whether or not he wanted to give up on sleep.
"What do you mean?" Bethany followed behind him, he stopped messing with the keyboard and turned to look at her again, leaving one hand still resting on the side of the piano and the other on his hip.
"I..." He looked around the apartment, then back at her. "Haven't been sleeping great."
"So, your bed is uncomfortable."
"No, it's probably fine." He waved off her comment. "I've been on the couch since I moved in."
Bethany raised an eyebrow, watching him for a minute, then she gave him a slow nod. "You're not used to sleeping alone."
Q tapped on the keyboard as he looked down and nodded. After a second, he looked back up at her. "It's dumb-"
"It's not dumb-"
"It's dumb." He repeated, cutting her off. "I was with her for... a month? I don't..." He sighed, looking down again. "It's dumb." He glanced over at Bethany, then turned back towards the couch. "I guess it's not gonna change if I don't do something about it."
"No..." She took a step closer, planting herself right beside him. "But, if you want the couch tonight..." Q looked down at her, "I guess I'll sleep in your bed."
Q let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "A huge sacrifice on your part, I'm sure."
"You can join me." She shrugged, walking towards the hallway. "Get used to your own bed with someone in it and then you can transition easier."
"I don't know about that." He stayed in his spot, not daring move an inch. "I don't think Anthony would like that." His gaze followed Bethany as she walked down the hall, paused halfway, then turned around again.
"Who's Anthony?"
Q shrugged.
"Come on, you big baby. It's just like a sleepover. A sleepover between friends who... used to date." She threw her hands up. "Completely innocent."
"Completely innocent?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow. This was his best friend, his engaged ex girlfriend, the woman he was going to go back to as soon as they both graduated because they were young and dumb and in love. There was no such thing as innocent anymore. "I'm good with the couch."
"Quince." She leaned on the hallway wall, resting her head against a picture that Q wouldn't have remembered was there if she hadn't put it in his sight by being there at this exact moment. "You can't live on the couch forever."
"I can try."
"Quincy-"
"You're engaged." He cut her off again, she looked down at the ground as the words left his mouth. "We can pretend everything is fine, everything is innocent, and we can pretend things are normal and just like they were. But that's not the case. You're engaged. I'm happy for you. I don't see this...." He trailed as he watched the expression on her face change to one more down. "I want things to be normal, I want to be able to call you. I want to go out as friends and have a drink and not worry about someone thinking it means something more." He continued. "But I don't think starting that journey with a sleepover in the same bed is going to do either of us any favors."
There was a moment of silence, then Bethany looked back up at him. "He cheated on me." Before Q could come up with a response, she continued. "I know it- ...I'm figuring it out. But you'd be doing me a favor."
Q watched her, she looked ready to give up. He should just let her give up. But she sounded honest, she had no reason to lie. She has been weird about the engagement this entire time, he's never seen the guy she's engaged to and she never talks about him unprompted. It would make sense if there was something going on behind the curtain. Q looked at the couch one more time, then threw his hands up in defeat before following her down the hallway. What was the worst that could happen? They were best friends, she wasn't going to kill him in his sleep. The worst thing would be he can't get any sleep and he'd have to come back to the couch to correct it. He could handle that.
