Victim (Glee)

32. Resistance

It was around 2am. I got woken up as told fifteen minutes before Quinn was outside my window, 1:45am. I put my clothes on, brushed my hair – just like any other day. Only this time the day started off much, much earlier. Without waking my parents up, I sneaked out and made sure I closed the door as quietly as possible. When Quinn saw me coming towards her, she started the engine and even from a distance I could see the smile on her lips through the window.

”Hey”

”Did you wake your parents up?”

”Do you think I'd be here if I did?” I jeered. ”No, of course not” and the smile on my lips showed again.

She laughed and drove towards the destination. It was dark and late but the city was still alive. People really are right when they say New York is the city that never sleeps. I never truly believed it until I saw it with my own eyes. She drove for about ten/fifteen minutes and parked outside her friends place. Christopher. He told Quinn the day before that she should stop by sometime after midnight and hang out. I didn't really think it was a good idea because seriously what good can come from going to a party filled with drug addicts after midnight? Not much really. However, she told me she was going and I didn't want to be left out so I accepted her offer when she asked me to go with her. I found it quite weird really that someone starts a “party” after midnight instead of letting it end then. Her friends were all reversed – if someone said white, they said black. If someone said morning, they said night. They were very different. Truth is, Quinn was very different as well – just not their type of different. Or, maybe she was actually. She may have been, it was just that from my point of view, her type of different was my type of different – the good type.

“I'm glad you brought us goodies” the tall, unhygienic friend said as he opened the door and winked at me.

“Don't start with her, I told you she doesn't like it” Quinn threw him a look.

“Okay,” he laughed “I'm sorry. We've been at this for about two hours now so whatever leaves this mouth isn't really me speaking!” he claimed and we walked in to the same living room from a couple of weeks earlier.

Luckily, Fiona wasn't there. At least not yet – I couldn't see her anywhere so that was one good thing about it. The lights were subdued, smoke was in the air. That herby smell again. One half empty and one empty bottle of alcohol were on the table along with the cocaine and a pack of cigarettes. The song in the background sounded like one of the songs Quinn had in her car.. It was very familiar. I sat down next to her on the couch – the only place in the apartment I could feel safe. She put her arm around me and gave me a peck on the lips. I smiled into the little kiss and she poured me a glass. I took the drink and felt it spread through my veins.

“Yo, Q” Christopher called. “I've got some great news” he sat down next to her on the other side of the couch. She was now in the middle of us both. “You know that guy I buy my stuff from,” he said “well, he's also a really good friend. Great guy, he's gold. He's going on vacation with his girlfriend and shit so he told me I could take over for a while.. I get fifty percent of the money of everything I sell” his tone was overly excited. “I'm gonna get rich of this shit, can you believe that?,” he laughed “and people say there's no future in drugs!” the dark laugh got louder. I couldn't help but snort. And he heard. “What was that about, huh?” Christopher smiled.

“Nothing, I thought your story was very amusing” I looked to see if Quinn payed attention.

“Story?,” he looked at Quinn, then back at me “I didn't tell a fucking cinderella story about princes and princesses and white charming donkeys, this is real money, kid” he let out a chuckle. “Story” he laughed harder.