Not One For Love

Ladies choice

Brittany lived in a high-rise condominium that was more spacious than Rachel's brownstone, or so it seemed, due to the simplicity of her furniture. A leather couch, shelves, and a coffee table facing towards a wide-screen television. Rachel sat on a bar stool overlooking the balcony as she sipped her double-shot of espresso while Brittany fried up some eggs and toasted some bread. She sliced up a bowl of fruit for Rachel to fill her stomach, still empty from last night. But Rachel won't have a bite.

"You need to eat." Brittany said, exasperated. "If you don't, you might get sick, and I can't have that happen."

Rachel sighed and nibbled on a strawberry. "I just can't, Brittany. I'm still so messed up from yesterday." She rubbed her throbbing head and her sore neck. She slept on Brittany's couch late last night after the phone call. Brittany sensed that something was off for Rachel to change her mind so quickly, and so asked if she wanted to come over.

Now, she was nursing her pale porcelain espresso cup, playing with her food, and deaf to everything Brittany was saying. Even as she tried to bribe Rachel by promising her favourite vegan cake, the actress refused to emerge from her bout of depression. This wasn't about Finn at all.

It was about how now, Rachel was alone.

Brittany stood in front of Rachel with her platter of eggs and toast. She chewed quietly, waiting for Rachel to speak. Yet she did not, as if her tongue left her just like Finn did. However, Brittany was patient. She spent the entire day lounging around with Rachel, no longer forcing her to talk nor to eat. They watched a few movies, read through magazines and fan mail, until finally, Rachel called out Brittany's name.

"I'm not the kind of girl who just sits here while the world thinks I'm heartbroken." She vowed, the fire in her eyes ignited by something brighter and more ferocious. "I don't want Finn back. We were over the moment we graduated high school. Those years we spent apart, I don't remember missing him, because I was too caught up in school and auditions and... I'm better without him!" Rachel shot off the couch and beamed at Brittany, who watched her with pride in her eyes. "Forget what PR will think when they hear about this. I hired them to clean this kind of thing up for me anyway."

"And he's gay. Congratulations to him." Brittany said while she crossed her legs and threw the magazine on the coffee table. "But you said you wanted what I offered you. The prostitute."

Rachel blinked and nodded slowly. "I do. I haven't changed my mind about it yet. You need to tell me all about how it works. I don't want to miss out on any detail."

"Of course. I didn't expect anything less." Brittany grinned and grabbed her laptop. She booted it up and logged into her email and onto a private website that included a complicated password—at least complicated in Rachel's point of view. "Quinn's really good at what she does."

"She?" Rachel demanded as page loaded, showing a... for lack of better word, handsome blonde with the eyes that encouraged a girl to do whatever they wished. "Britt, I'm straight—"

"At this point, that doesn't matter. It's 2023, Rachel. I thought you're past caring about sexuality? Haven't you evolved?" Brittany said as she clenched and opened up her fists. "Rachel, don't be annoying for five minutes, okay? Quinn calls herself a woman, but she has a dick. And personally, it's awesome because she's like a girl with the way she thinks and speaks and acts, but she has a lady cock that she uses way, way better than any man."

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"

"Easy. I had sex with her before. Anyway," Brittany scrolled through Quinn's website and clicked on her portfolio. It revealed tasteful images of the half-naked woman, dressed in nothing but a pair of stonewashed jeans that were unzipped. Rachel licked her lips for they were dry, and released a soft breath. She had abs, and her Adonis Belt was defined, and... Rachel was definitely uncomfortable now, and she blamed the lack of action for the past eleven months. She squirmed in her seat, and beside her Brittany giggled. "What?"