A/N: Here is my new Samcedes fic, I hope you like it! Many thanks to my beta Jill!
Disclaimer: Don't own Glee...Enjoy!
Muse - a woman who is the source of inspiration…
Rumor has it that Sam Evans, international action hero superstar, has a reputation of choosing an unsuspecting female on his movie sets to use as a muse. Once the movie is wrapped up the woman gets unceremoniously dumped and Sam moves on to the next one, that is, until he meets Mercedes Jones…
Mercedes Jones parked her car in the driveway of her apartment and rested her weary head against the steering wheel. She wasn't sure if she had the strength to walk the ten steps to her front door. The manager of Super Discount Center 11 wondered why she worked so hard at a job where she was under appreciated and underpaid. She spent more than half of her time undoing what ever fuckery that jackass Trey Caldwell managed to fuck up.
She glanced at the time on the dashboard and let out a loud sigh. In ten minutes, Anthony Drake, her boyfriend of eight years, will call to make sure she had gotten home okay and to remind her to purchase the bottled water for McKinley High annual fundraiser. Mercedes grabbed her purse and shopping bag from the passenger's seat and opened the car door, and placing one foot in front of the other, she soon found herself inserting the key to her apartment into the lock and turning it.
The welcome breeze of cool air greeted her as she stepped into the quiet apartment. She grabbed her mail from the small table in the foyer as she made her way to the kitchen. She had barely sat down to sort her mail when Anthony's ringtone disturbed the peace.
"Hello Anthony," she greeted, trying to keep the weariness out of her tone.
"Hey sweetness," Anthony greeted, with a smile on his lips. "I'm glad you made it home, okay. Did you remember to buy the water?"
"Of course," she answered, rolling her eyes. "You can come by and pick them up before you go to work." There was a brief pause; any moment now he was going to ask her about work.
"Sure, I'll do that. So, how was work?"
Mercedes shook her head. Anthony was so damn predictable!
"Trey Caldwell almost lost his shit when he couldn't find the receipts from the night before, so I had to come in three hours early to help him tear apart his office, only to discover he had left them in the employee bathroom."
Anthony chuckled. "My poor baby," he murmured. "I'll bring you breakfast to make up for the lousy time you had at work, okay?"
"That's sounds heavenly."
"Well baby, I hate to cut it short, but Coach Bieste put me in charge of the morning football practice, and if I want to make tenure I have to make a good impression on my boss."
"I'll see you in a couple of hours."
"That you will and I will bring breakfast, I love you Mercedes."
A faint smile crossed her lips. "I love you too, Anthony…bye." Mercedes placed her phone on her small kitchen table and began sorting her mail into piles. "Bill…bill…trash…trash…whoa, what is this?" She stared at the hot pink envelope and read the sender's name, her eyes lit up as a genuine smile spread across her full lips. It was from Kurt, her best friend since grade school. She quickly ripped opened the envelope and looked inside.
It was a belated birthday card.
Mercedes giggled at the photograph on front of the card, it was two small children, a chubby black girl and a thin white boy, no more than six years old with their arms draped around each other. They were proudly showing off their twin smiles of having no front teeth. Mercedes cupped her mouth, she immediately recognized the children in the picture was Kurt and herself, taken the summer she beat out Rachel Berry for the lead in The Littlest Angel at day camp.
Under the photo was the caption BFF Ride or Die
She opened the card and read Kurt's loopy handwriting.
"Cedes, sorry your card is late, but I have been so busy lately with work and with my new obsession, Blaine Anderson. I told you how we met right? Well anyway, I got to thinking about us; in particular, about you and it depressed me. Cedes, you need to leave Lima, come out to California and pursue your dream of becoming an entertainer.
It hurts my heart that you are stuck in that god forsaken ass-backwards town that has nothing going for it except being the home of the award winning Cheerios. I still hate those snooty bitches, LOL. I know for a fact that you hate your job and your relationship with Anthony is at a stalemate. Sweetie, to be totally honest with you, I don't think he's ever going to ask you to marry him; there is no such thing as waiting for the perfect moment. Honey life is too short, people are dying everyday from regret and I for one don't want that to happen to my best friend.
So I'm prepared to do something about it. Enclosed is a one way ticket to California, come see me and be my ray of sunshine on a smoggy day. You don't have to worry about a place to stay because I got that covered and I'll help you find a job until you get that major break. So what do you say Mercedes? Live or die?
She held the plane ticket in her hand and stared at it, wondering what she should do.
Anthony let himself inside of Mercedes' apartment with his own key. As promised; he had brought her breakfast, which included her favorite latte from the Lima Bean. He took off his shoes and quietly walked into her bedroom, placed her breakfast on the nightstand and stared at her sleeping form for a few minutes. His heart swelled in his chest as he gazed at the sleeping beauty.
Mercedes Jones had been his girl since they were juniors at McKinley. It was hard for anyone to imagine that they would somehow manage to hook up because they traveled in different cliques. She hung out with the theater and music nerds while he was on top of the school food chain. He was McKinley's football team top running back with a guaranteed four year scholarship to Ohio State after graduation.
They met when McKinley's former football coach had the entire team take dance lessons with the glee club to improve their performance on the field. He was partnered with the curvy mahogany beauty and as they say, the rest is history.
Mercedes felt the edge of her bed dipping down under his weight. She stretched her tired body and opened her eyes. "Hello, handsome," she greeted sleepily, pulling herself up in a sitting position.
"Hey darling." Anthony brushed the hair from her eyes and cupped her cheek. "You're look so beautiful when you sleep. I can watch you for hours." He leaned over and kissed her plump lips.
Mercedes sniffed the air; the aroma of bacon tickled her nose. "Mmmm, I smell something good." Anthony reached over on the nightstand and grabbed the takeout container and handed it to Mercedes. "Oh thank you baby! You are so good to me."
"And here's your latte."
She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Do you have time to eat with me?"
"Sorry baby, I have just enough time to grab the water and head over to the school."
"All right," she said, a little disappointed.
"I'm sorry Mercedes, but you know I will make it up to you." He pouted, giving her his saddest puppy dog look.
"I know." She said, "It just that…never mind, go before you're late for work. The water is in the trunk of my car."
"Thank you baby," he pressed his lips against her forehead. "Enjoy your breakfast and I'll see you later at the fundraiser."
"Okay, later." Mercedes waited until she heard the front door lock before taking out Kurt's birthday card. She read it twice while she ate her breakfast. Damn Kurt! She sighed, staring at the plane ticket. Why do you have to put me in a fucking bind?
Mercedes, knowing there was no way she was going to go back to sleep until she talked to Kurt, picked up her cell phone and punched in his number.
"You got my letter," Kurt said sleepily. "Fuck Cedes, do you know what time it is?"
"No, but right now I don't give a rat ass if I'm disturbing your beauty sleep." She answered. "Why did you send that ticket?"
"I explained it all to you in my letter." He yawned. "I want you to come out here with me and pursue your dream. You deserve to be much more than the lead vocalist in the church choir. Sweetie, you have real potential to make it, and your talents are going to waste in that small town."
"What if I don't want to go to California? Then you would have spent your money for nothing."
"Cedes, who are you bullshitting?" He sat up in bed while Blaine looked at him, confused. 'Talking to Cedes,' he mouthed. 'Go back to sleep.' Kurt got out of bed and walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. "You hate Lima as much as I do, perhaps even more, so why are you not hopping on the first plane out of there?"
"I can't pack my bags and leave. I have obligations and bills…"
"If you're talking about Anthony, drop him! He is holding you back."
"No he's not," she protested.
"Yes he is," Kurt countered. "Cedes, remember when you were attending UCLA? And how happy you were that you had finally gotten out of that hell hole?" he reminded her. "Remember how we planned to stay here and support and look after each other?"
"Kurt, that was so long ago…another life time ago."
"Remember after graduation how we found a cute little apartment and you got a job as a waitress at that little Italian restaurant where Artie Abrams was renting the cramped office space upstairs as a talent agency?" Kurt chuckled. He poured the hot water over the teabag and let it steep.
"Yeah," Mercedes said fondly, remembering coming home every night smelling like garlic.
"Oh God, Cedes remember that time he had gotten you a gig singing at a bar mitzvah?"
"How could I forget? That little thirteen year old snot was trying to get his mack on." Mercedes laughed. "How is Artie by the way?"
"He got a bigger office and is doing pretty good. He asks about you all the time."
"The next time you see Artie, tell him that I say hello."
"You can tell him that yourself, when you get here."
"Cedes…" he sighed, "I'll make a deal with you, come out here and give it six months. After the six months are over, if you want to go back to Lima, I'll pay for your return ticket back to Lima," he vowed. "Do we have a deal?"
"I don't know Kurt…" Mercedes had to admit Kurt's offer was tempting.
"Now come on, it can't get any sweeter than that," he replied. "I tell you what: I'll give you a couple of days to really think about it."
She agreed. "Okay, I'll give you a call in a couple of days. Bye Kurt…"
"Bye my angel, talk to you in a couple of days."
Mercedes disconnected the call and placed her cell phone on her nightstand. She finished her breakfast and drank her latte as she glanced through her latest copy of People. She spotted a photo of her favorite actor Sam Evans looking sexy as fuck in a black tux posing on the red carpet with his model girlfriend, Quinn Fabray.
How rude, she thought, looking into his piercing green eyes. It should be against the law to be that freaking sexy. Mercedes pushed the magazine to the side and lay back on her pillows. If she went to sleep now, she could get in five hour of sleep before she had to get dressed and meet Anthony at McKinley High for the fundraiser.
She shut her eyes.
Ten minutes later her cell phone rang. "No! No! No!" she groaned, burying her head in her pillows. "It's my fucking day off!" Mercedes let the phone ring until it stopped. She quickly checked her voicemail just to hear that asshole Trey Caldwell begging her to come in because they were short staffed. Mercedes took a deep breath and rolled her eyes as she turned off her phone. They can do without her for one day. She pulled her blanket up to her chin and shut her eyes.
Los Angeles, CA
Sam Evans felt invigorated after doing seven laps in his the Olympic-size swimming pool. The international action hero superstar, known as "the Tennessee Charmer" to his fans, took a sip of his apple and carrot smoothie as he dried himself off. He glanced at his girlfriend, super model Quinn Fabray, who had her perfect nose buried in Vogue Italia . She was checking out his most recent photo layout.
"What do you think?" he asked, plopping down in the wicker chair next to her. "Am I good or am I good?" he bragged, shaking his wet hair.
"Sam, stop! You're getting me wet," she said annoyingly, using her cloth napkin as a towel. "You know how much I hate it when you do that. Ugh, you always remind me of a big shaggy dog."
Sam rolled his eyes and reached for his apple and carrot smoothie. Lately, things between Hollywood's cutest couple had been rather shaky. "Quinn, there's no need to make a federal case out of a little water." He took another sip of his smoothie and glanced at the blond goddess. "So what do you think?"
Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "Since the magazine sold out the minute it hit the stands, I say that you have another winner," she replied without looking up. "Congratulations."
"Wow babe, you really sound happy for me," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Quinn put down the magazine, lifted her shades and looked at him. "What do you expect me to say?" she asked, slightly irritated. "O.M.G. Sam Evans, I want to fuck myself as I gaze into your sexy green eyes until I cum?" she huffed.
"No, but as my girlfriend…" he stopped in mid sentence upon hearing the patio door open. He turned his head in the direction of the door and smiled at his twelve year old niece, Alys. She was carrying her usual bowl of cereal, her iPod and a novel. At the moment, her latest book obsession was A Song of Ice and Fire series. "Hey shortness how was Dylan's party?"
Alys shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as she sat down next to him. "I don't know," she said, fiddling with her iPod. "I got the hell out of there when Dylan insisted on showing her slides of Justin Bieber…ewww." She crinkled her nose in disgust.
"Alys, language," Sam warned her. "I thought girls your age love Justin Bieber," he said teasingly. "Or is it One Direction?"
Alys' blue eyes met his; at that moment she reminded him of his sister Stacey at that age. "I'm not most girls," she reminded him, opening up her novel.
"You got that right." Quinn scoffed, returning to her magazine.
Alys gave her the side-eye. "Give me Aretha Franklin, David Bowie or Janis Joplin anytime…now that's real music."
Sam glanced briefly at her jet black hair with magenta and green highlights. "You know, you have to change back to your original hair color before school starts again." He took another drink of his shake. "Why don't we make a day of it?" he suggested. "Just the two of us, we'll go shopping on Rodeo Drive and…"
They watched as Quinn stood up and left without saying a word.
"What's her problem?" Alys asked. "Is she hungry? Hey Quinn, eat something!" she called after her.
"Hey be nice," Sam said. "Quinn might be your aunt some day."
"What have I done to deserve such punishment?"
"No Uncle Sam, Quinn doesn't like me and the feeling is mutual," she injected. "She hates it when we spend time together, and she is always criticizing my sense of style and what I eat…why can't you find yourself a normal chick?"
"And where pray tell, would I find this normal chick?" he asked. It seemed as if they were having this conversation more and more these days.
Alys shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I'm too young to give you that kind of advice." She put in her earbuds and turned on her iPod. "But you can do a lot better than Quinn," she shouted over the music. It wasn't long before Alys was in her own little world. Sam finished his smoothie and stood to leave. He had a nine o'clock appointment with his agent Noah Puckerman to discuss the details of his new contract. In a few months he was to start filming the new Grayson Stone movie and he wanted no fuck-ups.
"See you inside." He ruffled his niece's hair which earned him an eye roll. Sam chuckled, telling himself how much Alys looks like her mother. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with sadness. He still found it hard to believe that his beautiful young sister had succumbed to breast cancer, leaving behind a gorgeous little girl.
Quinn was sitting at the vanity applying her make up as Sam entered the master bedroom. She briefly glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he headed for the shower.
"I'm going to be staying at my home tonight," she announced, blotting the extra lipstick with a tissue. "In fact, I'm going to be staying there for the rest of the week."
Sam's stopped in his tracks. "Why?" he asked, looking at the back of his girlfriend's head. "What did I do?"
"Nothing," she turned around to face him. "Santana and her girlfriend Brittany will be in California for a few days for a little relaxation and since it's been ages since I went out with the girls, so…" she shrugged her shoulders.
"But Quinn, we're supposed to ride up to Santa Barbara together and drop Alys off at school." he reminded her. "Don't tell me that you'd forgotten."
"I haven't," she admitted. "Besides, I think it's better if I don't go. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not one of your niece's favorite people."
"That's what this road trip was supposed to be about, you and Alys bonding."
"Yeah right," Quinn snorted, rolling her eyes. "That girl hates me."
"Quinn…really? Alys is still mourning the lost of her mother. Of course she is going to lash out at you if she thinks you are trying to replace Stacey. It's normal."
"Look Sam, I'm not going to change my mind about this. You and Alys will have fun this weekend bonding without me and I'll have fun with Santana and Brit…even trade."
"Quinn, are we headed for a break up?" he asked calmly. "I mean it seems like all we do lately is argue over stupid shit."
Quinn checked her makeup, making sure she looked flawless. "We're fine Sammy." She walked over to him and gave him a hug. "We wouldn't fight if we didn't care about each other." She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll give you a call at about four-thirty, okay?"
"All right," Sam sighed. He kissed the top of her head; he would've aimed for her mouth, but that would only cause another shitty argument. "Tell Satan she's not allowed to get you in trouble."
"It's Satan, Sam. Of course she is going to try." She smiled lightly. Quinn went to the closet and pulled out her overnight bag and gathered the few items she had in his closet.
Sam watched as she packed. Again he got this feeling that things weren't adding up. "Why don't we plan a trip to visit my parents after I get back from Santa Barbara?" he suggested.
Quinn hesitated briefly then nodded. "Okay, it'll be nice to see Mary and Dwight."
Noah 'Puck' Puckerman fist bumped Sam. It was their normal way of greeting each other. The two men went way back to when they were pool boys for the rich and famous. Although Puck considered himself a ladies man, he noticed it was Sam's southern charm the ladies were drawn to. The country boy with the Mick Jagger's lips oozed sex without trying. That was when he came up with the idea of managing Sam's fledging movie career. Sam was going to go far and he wanted to be there when it happened.
"Puck, what do you have for me?" Sam asked, sitting across from him. "Were all of my demands met?"
Puck took Sam's newly revised contract out of his attaché case and slammed it on the table between them.
"BAM!" Puck shouted, a huge smile spread on his lips. "Am I good or am I good? We had those pussies eating out of our hands!"
"Yes!" Sam cried fist pumping the air. "You're the man!"
"No, you're the man," Puck corrected him. "Once they realized how much money they would lose if they replaced you as Grayson Stone, they couldn't wait to give you what you want," he chuckled.
"Quick, give me your pen so I can hurry up and sign it before they change their minds." Puck tossed Sam his pen, Sam signed the papers and handed it back to Puck.
"This calls for a celebration," Puck replied, returning the contract to his attaché case. "Why don't you get Quinn and the little munchkin and the four of us…?" He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the expression on his friend's face. "What's going on now?"
"Santana and Brittany are visiting California so Quinn is spending the rest of the week with them," Sam explained. "So if there's going to be any celebration it will be just you, me and Alys."
"That's cool." Sam rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Is there something else you want to tell me?"
"I think Quinn and I are about to break up."
Quinn refilled her wine glass and passed the bottle to Santana. Santana passed the bottle to Brittany, who shook her head and placed the bottle on the table. The three friends were having a great time catching up and pigging out.
"So how's Trouty Mouth?" Santana asked, smirking at Quinn. "Isn't he about to start shooting another Grayson Stone movie?"
"Yeah, he starts in a few months," Quinn confirmed, running her fingers through her hair.
"So are the rumors true?" Brittany asked.
Santana looked at her girlfriend and licked her lips, before turning to Quinn with a wicked smile. "The rumors that Sam picks one unsuspecting female on the set to be his muse, whore, or whatever, and after the movie wraps up, the poor woman is dumped and it's on to his next conquest."
Quinn looked intently at Santana. Of course she had heard the rumors, but as far as she was concern it was just that – rumors.
"I have no reason to believe them," she finally replied. "Sam has always come back to me, so…"
"You mean you don't give a fuck that your man might be fucking some bitch?" she asked incredulously. "Damn girl, where's your fucking self respect?"
Quinn diverted her eyes. "Well…who's to say that the woman isn't throwing it in his face? I mean everyone wants to fuck Sam."
"Not me," Brittany piped up. She threw a kiss at her girlfriend.
"Same here," Santana said. "Even when I had the chance to fuck him I didn't."
"I almost forgot, you did go out with Sam for a few weeks." Quinn sighed as she drained her wine glass and reached for the bottle. "Enough talk about Sam, where are you two headed after you leave California?"
Anthony and Mercedes were sitting in their usual booth at Breadstix, waiting for their waitress to bring their usual order, a large pizza; half pepperoni and half pineapple and ham with extra cheese. This has been their usual Saturday night dating ritual since high school. They would catch the 7:00 movie at the mall in nearby Westerville, than back to Lima to have pizza at Breadstix by 10:30.
"Don't you think the fundraiser went great?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence.
Mercedes nodded. "It went better than last year's," Mercedes replied. "I'm sure Mr. Schue is grateful, because the glee club doesn't have to anything embarrassing to raise money this year."
"Yeah," Anthony chuckled. "Will asked me to tell you to stop calling him Mr. Schue. He's no longer your teacher."
"That will never happen. He will always be Mr. Schue to me." The waitress brought their pizza; Anthony thanked her and covered his half in red peppers and parmesan cheese. "Anthony I have something I like to discuss with you." Mercedes said, picking at her slice.
"What is it babe?"
"I heard from Kurt a few days ago, he sent me a belated birthday card."
"How is Kurt doing all the way out in Cali?"Anthony asked, between bites. "Has he made it big yet?" he laughed, "it's a great thing you had the good sense to come home when your mama begged you to, or you would be still waiting tables at that little restaurant, waiting for you big break." He chuckled.
Mercedes narrowed her eyes at him.
"I'm sorry baby, I know he's your best friend, but damn Kurt is an idiot, do you know how many people are trying to make it out there? Millions," he noticed that she wasn't eating. "What is on your mind Mercedes?"
Mercedes took a deep breath and exhaled. "Kurt had sent me a one way ticket to California and I've decided to go."
A/N: What do you think? Yea or Nay? Thanks for reading!