songbird | sebastian smythe

15 - Cast Party

"I love you, Audrey. And I'm sorry. That's all I wanted to say."  The words repeated in my head like a broken record player as I sat in Jesse's car on the way to the cast party, listening to him sing along to the radio.

He loved me. And he said it. I glanced over at Jesse, the neck in his vein bulging as he hit the high notes. Jesse also loved me and had said it, so why did I have such a hard time saying it back to him? Why did it come so easily when my former enemy said it to me?

How could he love me when he couldn't bypass Quinn's rules? More importantly, what kind of vendetta did Quinn have against me? Thinking about her and what she did to me - to Sebastian -  my body started to ache. I was no longer a person just sitting in Jesse's car, I was a pool of mixed emotions.  I hated Sebastian for listening to Quinn, but I hated Quinn for what she had done to us.

Because of Quinn, I missed the opportunity to be with Sebastian and spent weeks wondering what went wrong. Because of Quinn, I was dating Jesse St. James for the second time and got kicked out of the Glee club for it.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Jesse brought me back to reality. I looked over at him and shared eye contact with him. "Did that Sebastian kid give you a problem?"

I shook my head and smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. He's just a friend," I reassured Jesse before going back to looking out the window. But the problem was that he wasn't just a friend. He had meant so much more to me and I couldn't figure out the reason why.

After an entire car ride of biting my tongue and thinking of the right thing to say, I finally opened my mouth.

"Jesse, I don't....I don't, uh, think you should come in with me," I spoke, silently cursing myself out as I finished. Jesse simply smiled at me. I could've just said it, then and there.

"That's fine. I had to go work on something for Vocal Adrenaline anyway. Just call me when you get home, you know I love drunk sex," His words wanted to make me vomit in my mouth. Holding back my bile, I kissed Jesse on the cheek and quickly got out of the car.

As I stood in the driveway watching Jesse leave, I thought about his comment. Jesse and I hadn't done it, ever, and he knew that I didn't want to be drunk my first time. At least, with him, but I didn't tell him that. He only suggested that it would make things easier for the both of us. Of course, I didn't think of it as a big deal, but I wanted it to mean something to the both of us. The moment had to feel right, and with the right person, I wouldn't care, but I didn't feel like Jesse was the right person.

I approached Blaine's front door and knocked. The door swung open to reveal an afro-haired Blaine, an almost-empty bottle of vodka in his hand. "Do you want a sip?" Taking the bottle from him, I stepped inside and braced myself. In the entrance of his house, I downed whatever was left in the bottle, wiping my mouth afterwards as my throat stung.

"Let's get fucked up!!"

-

Sitting in the corner of Blaine's living room, a hard lemonade in my hand, I looked at the friends I'd made over the past couple of weeks, dancing on each other, seeming as if they had not a care in the world. They were being high schoolers, and I was pretty much acting like their stressed out nanny. Even though I'd had more shots than I planned on, I was still sober enough to realize that I was being my own party-pooper, so I got up and started to dance to the music.

With a bit of liquid courage in me, I realized that what I really was lacking was self-confidence. I was wearing a tightly fitted red dress, boasting a deep neckline. I looked good and I felt good. At least, I tricked myself into feeling good by continuing to drink my lemonade.