Tying You To Me

Chapter Eleven: 2020

March 2020

"Vanilla cream cold brew for Quinn!"

Quinn reached for her drink on the counter, but cringed and turned away, ducking her face into the shoulder of her jacket as a tall man next to her coughed without covering his mouth.

It was probably fine, right? What were the odds that the cough had traveled far enough to land in the open cup of coffee?

She stared at the cup of coffee, moving to chew on the raw skin of her thumb before reconsidering. Don't touch your face, nose, or mouth and you'll be fine...at least that's what the news was saying.

The man coughed yet again as Quinn decided to write the coffee off as a loss. She could make a better cup in her own apartment. She exited the shop and strolled down the block, choosing the least crowded side of the street and dodging the few pedestrians that passed her.

The past couple of weeks had been like nothing she'd ever known. The news was continually dominated by headlines of a virus that was wreaking havoc across the globe, and starting to put roots in the US. Doctors were getting more and more screen time on TV, everyone on Twitter suddenly had a degree in public health, and people like Quinn, who regarded herself as a person of average intelligence with average anxieties, were constantly trying to figure out if they were overreacting to the current situation.

Quinn was thankful that those closest to her were also feeling cautious, and many of the group texts she was a part of were constantly fielding questions like "It's safe to go to the movies right?" or "Is everyone still OK meeting for dinner?"

SNL's last show had been filled with a new kind of nervous energy as everyone joked about not getting too close during the farewell before the two weeks of hiatus. Between Harry's visit at the end of the month, and two busy weeks of shows, Quinn hadn't had much time to focus on anything outside of work and her relationship, but when she woke up on Sunday afternoon her brain suddenly had space to contemplate the state of the world. Which is how she wound up walking around her Midtown neighborhood on a Monday morning, dodging everyone she could while trying to find a germ-free coffee.

She was bouncing up and down on a street corner trying to stay warm when her phone rang. It was Marcus. The fact that he was calling, and not texting, this early in the day set off her inner alarm bells.

"Hey Marcus," she said, picking up on the third ring.

"Quinn, they're shutting the show down. We're not coming back after the hiatus."

"Marcus, that's not funny."

"I'm not joking, Quinn." Based on the way his voice wavered, she believed him.

"Fuck."

"I know. Supposedly they're waiting for this to pass and we can finish with an abbreviated season in late April."

"Marcus, I don't mean to be a downer but I don't think this is going to pass by April."

"I don't either," he said, sighing. "I'm going to be honest with you, Quinn. I'm getting ready to leave the city."

"What?" Quinn felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Where? When?"

"This afternoon. Wade's parents have a vacation home upstate that they're not using and they said we could crash there to get a little more space. At least for the next month, but I'm preparing for longer."

"That's good. At least you can pretend like the world isn't ending."

"That's what Wade said. You should try and come up with an escape plan of your own. We've got room for you."