Glee: Fabray's Secret

Chapter 37 - Big Shot

FLASHFORWARD

Sam sat a bar, intoxicated from the amount of alcohol he had in his body. Slurring as he talked to the barman, telling him about his recent events which he clearly had no interest in at all since it was a regular thing people getting drunk and telling them their entire life story.

"And-And you know what I said to her?" Sam slurred drunkly, hand hanging weakly as he attempted to point at him. "It's over then."

"That's interesting." The barman said sarcastically as he polishing a glass. "Listen mate, the bars about to close up so you're going to have to leave."

"N-No, no, noo," He said stopping him. "You're not listening, I said me and Effie are over, finished, done."

"That's a shame." He said putting the glass down on the bar. "Now clear up."

"And not only do I-I have Effie on my back for like-" He scoffed. "God knows what, but now I have Ms Bitchette telling me I'm fat, and my best friends girlfriend flirting with me."

"What a horrendous life." The barman said on his phone pretending to be listening as he text someone.

"I'm not fat am I? W-Wait don't answer that, Liam."

"It's Paul." He said putting his phone down to look at him. "Now, shift, I should have shoved you out earlier but you can't keep your mouth shut."

"It's only like.." He looked at his watched, struggling to tell the time he looked at the barman in hopes of being told.

"11 o'clock." He said with a reluctant sigh.

"Exactly!" Sam shouted in anticipation. "S-so you shouldn't be like shutting down, or stopping the drink, just keep it coming."

"We actually have a private event that started about half an hour ago, yet you were too busy talking to me about your girlfriend-"

"Ex-girlfriend." Sam chimed in an attempt to correct him.

"-and I haven't had the chance to tell you to leave." He said with a sigh. "Listen, you can stay but just keep quiet mate, I don't want this Bachelorette party ruined because you broke up with your girlfriend."

"Me and my girlfriend broke up?" Sam asked suddenly becoming sad and concerned, as if he never knew about the stories he had told.

"Just sit at that booth over there where no one can see you." The barman said before leaving.

Sam watched as the barman left, scoffing as he grabbed his beer, letting it splash on the recently cleaned counter. He stumbled over to the booth where he wasn't seen by anyone, yet he was in perfect view of the stage.

A younger, better looking, fitter, skinnier dancer came out onto stage dancing to the beat of the music. Sam scoffed, he knew he was better looking than him, so why wasn't he up there stripping like he used to?

If he was so much better than him then why wasn't he up there? Why wasn't he and his girlfriend still together? Why was Ms. Bitchette saying he was too fat to be a model? He obviously wasn't.

He watched how the bridesmaids threw money at him reminding him of his old work. The attention, he missed that the most, the girls attention. Oh, how they wanted him, the sexual desire from the girls is what he missed most, something he never got from Effie.

After a few minutes of attempting to watch, the drink took it's toll, he slowly and slowly became more tired. Finding it hard to keep his eyes open he leaned his head on his hand to pretend he was wide awake.

But he soon managed to get himself up, nearly flopping to the ground when he managed to stand up with the help of the booth.

("Zanzibar" by Billy Joel)