authors note: I want to publish this first chapter just to see if you guys are interested enough for me to take it further. I really loved writing this so enjoy!
Unlike her mother, Brittany S. Pierce did not tie her shoes before she left the house, nor did she clean up after herself. Her father however shared the same qualities as Brittany, but the blonde only realised this after he scratched her face after a fight. Brittany always used her nails for battle and her temper would rise in less than a minute if someone provoked her.
Sometimes her father would convince Brittany that she was adopted. That's when the real physical battles started. She wasn't even violent before that. Her mother wouldn't even stick up for her or try and stop her father from hitting her.
Brittany had brought it on herself though. Her constant mood swings (which are normal for a teenager, however Brittany's were heightened) and her need to defy her parents when they would tell her 'no' became a normal after school thing. She had friends that would sneak out at the age of fourteen and from then on she fell into the wrong routine. Not the type of a routine that involved toothbrushes against tiles or tea towels rubbing plates, no, the complete opposite.
So when Brittany kept rebelling, her father became physical and her mother became silent.
Its better this way, Brittany thought as her uncle's car pulled up to his mansion. She believed it was a mansion because she had never seen anything larger than a unit. Her parents were rich though, they were just never the type of people that liked to show off. Her uncle had picked her up early this morning and no 'goodbyes' were said – Brittany was happier that way. She never did say any form of farewell when she left the house to meet her friends. Brittany believed her existence around the house became just a mere insignificance. She floated around the kitchen when hungry, slept until midday and then jetted off to school. There was really nothing keeping her at her parent's house – she was just waiting for the day they kicked her out.
As she steps outside into the blistering heat (she isn't a fan of summer at all) her eyes flicker to the house next door, almost the same size. She notices it has a better balcony and miniature palm trees inhabiting the front yard.
"Ugh," Brittany groans, shading her eyes from the sun with her palm. She notices the FOR SALE sign perched out the front of the neighbour's house and prays that no religious family moves in because she plans to stay with her uncle for a while. He's the coolest uncle Brittany has. He's her mother's only brother and when Brittany mentioned what was going on at home in the car, he almost swerved onto the other side of the road.
He asked why Brittany hadn't told him before and she shrugged, not really wanting to explain herself. She wasn't innocent either and she simply wanted to forget about everything that happened in that tiny two bedroom unit with a cramped, bland yellow kitchen with no dish washer. It was all Brittany needed, just without the unwanted violence. She understands it was her fault, most of it anyway. Brittany had tried every drug her friends brought to school. She was kicked out two weeks ago, that was probably the best thing that ever happened to her. She never got along with the teachers and secretly wanted to murder her friends because she hated what they made her. Brittany wished she could go back five years at least and smile instead of scream.
"I brought it on myself," she mutters to herself.
That wasn't entirely accurate, but it was true in Brittany's mind. Brittany's father made it clear that he wanted a boy and he wouldn't shy away from saying it even after Brittany could understand words. From that day she had a fear of disappointing the man that helped bring her into the world, but it wasn't until her first day of high school; where she witnessed one of the head cheerleaders stick her middle finger up at her father after she dropped her at school, that Brittany knew there was such thing as defiance.
It existed in positive ways and in negative. Defiance helped people gain hope if it was for a good cause, but it also turned her father against her when she started settling in at high school, hanging around with the wrong types of people and hearing rumours of drugs being dealt under the bleachers.
Brittany didn't understand how those types of people she admired were wrong. In her father's eyes they were the scum of the earth, heading nowhere fast. Brittany however understood that maybe those kids in school who were frowned upon had difficulties at home. Maybe they were struggling with their own abusive father's and cowardly mother's. To Brittany S. Pierce if she saw someone smiling and laughing, she also knew inside apart of them was in pain.
"What was that kid?" Her uncle asks, carrying both Brittany's suitcases inside the house. Brittany's carrying her backpack with all her most loved possessions (which is not much) into the house and is utterly shocked at the extravagance. There's not one flaw in the house that Brittany can see. Her eyes gaze across the exposed beams on the ceiling and as she follows her uncle into the living room, she almost cries at house huge the flat screen is. That's what she's planning to do this summer. Besides go driving in one of her uncle's Cadillac's.
"Hungry?"
"Fuck no," Brittany walks up the stairs, "I'm starving myself until I get to take sky blue out for a spin."
Her uncle's laughter echoes through the house. "You can't keep saying that every time you see me."
"I have and I will," Brittany replies with a smirk, continuing up the staircase.
The man shakes his head grinning, "Your room is the second on the left," he shouts.
Brittany opens the door to her new room and almost cries again. Obviously not because she's a sensitive little bitch, but the bed is humongous and there's a generous sized balcony for her to smoke on or spit on people that drive or walk passed. She can even egg her neighbour's home because no one's living in there at the moment. The new neighbours will get a welcomed surprise when they arrive, Brittany thinks, smirking to herself as she leans on the ledge of the balcony – although she better not do anything stupid; since her uncle offered to take her in and trusts her. Her ribs ache still as she bends over to rest her head on the ledge. She stares into the distance, lifting her shirt up occasionally just to feel her past which was in the shape of a lake stretching across two counties, but it now resembles a small baby pool with colours of pink and yellow in it.
There's nothing worse than having your past imprinted on your skin. Brittany hopes the bruise will fade permanently before she has to find a job.
X
Of course the winter made her bones ache and the summer wasn't too much better. She hasn't left the house, uncaring of the world outside her door. She hasn't even seen the new neighbours next door that moved in a year ago. Her eyes haven't welcomed the constant change in weather and her ears haven't gotten used to the rap music her neighbour plays on repeat.
She's expecting her neighbour to be a single white male, aged about thirty. However the lack of testosterone in the voice of her neighbour causes Brittany's nose to scrunch. She leans up from her bed and pulls her curtain back slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious neighbour from her bedroom window. Unfortunately when the neighbours moved in, they replaced the midget palm trees for giant ones that are currently blocking the blonde's vision.
Brittany groans and slumps back into bed, re-opening her favourite book to where she left off.
She didn't realise how much she'd enjoyed living at her uncles (she never shows it of course) and the past year Brittany, although unsuccessfully, has actually searched the internet for job openings at local cafes and restaurants. One thing Brittany adores about her uncle is that he doesn't constantly nag her about getting a job. The second day of living there the man informed Brittany that she can either find a job or go back to school and although neither of those options appealed to the blonde, she decided that earning money working long hours is ten times better spending money learning long hours.
And since she's tried looking for a job, her uncle hasn't yelled at her for not having one; whereas if Brittany was at home with her parents, there would be a lot more kicking and screaming.
A door opening downstairs peaks Brittany's interest and she shoots up from bed, but this time she isn't so lucky. Her hair catches in the zip on her jacket and her neck kinks, effectively causing Brittany to whimper in pain (obviously not loud enough because her uncle doesn't rush upstairs to help). She tugs on the zip gently at first, hoping magically her hair will slip out and become shampooed and conditioned on its way.
Brittany groans, growing frustrated and pulls her hair up while attempting to drag the zip down. She can hear her hair battling against the metal zip, slowly tearing from her other tresses as the zip grips them tightly, with no hint of letting go. Brittany finally finds her common sense and answers it, opening one of her drawers and pulling out a scissor. She cuts a third of hair caught in the zip and eventually pulls the remaining strands out, throwing them in her bin before leaving her room finally.
Just as she makes it downstairs, her uncle closes the door and grins at her.
"That was the daughter of our neighbours, she brought over some cake," he explains, holding the plate of chocolaty goodness up to the blonde's nose.
"They're probably laced with something," the blonde mutters, taking the plate and smelling them closely. "What did she look like?"
"The daughter?"
"Um," Brittany becomes slightly embarrassed, actually wanting to talk about someone other than herself.
"She's your age I think," her uncle says with a slight smirk.
Brittany grows defensive. "Wipe that shit off your face."
Her uncle starts laughing, swiping the plate from his niece's hands and walking to the kitchen. He pulls out two plates from the drawer and offers one to Brittany, who is still standing by the front door with her arms folded across her chest.
"She has pretty brown hair," he runs his hands comically across his bald head, "dark brown eyes and a little bit of an attitude. From the looks of her I'm guessing she was a cheerleader," he rubs his chin, "but that could've just been the cheerleading outfit she was wearing…"
Brittany rolls her eyes and walks over to her uncle. "Why would she bring us cake a year after she's been living there?"
"Her studies have been, as she liked to put it 'ca-raaazy'."
"Right," Brittany answers monotonously. She picks up a slice of cake and nibbles on it before licking her lips. "Mm, definitely laced with something," she says while taking a large bite and retreating upstairs.
Since being kicked out of high school, Brittany felt the need to overlook every positive. She did not try to see beneath people's smiles, she just grew used to the fact that people were going to live their lives in a façade and she didn't have a right to tell them otherwise.
Her belief that everybody had a soft side was shattered after her parents gave up on her. She no longer understood love, even though she suspected her uncle loved her enough to take her in.
He may have done that out of pity however, or selfishness. Maybe he couldn't have children of his own. Brittany didn't ask questions; not because she was afraid to offend the man but because she didn't really care.
She didn't care about anything anymore; besides money. She wanted lots of it and she wanted to get out of Lima, out of Ohio and travel somewhere far. She didn't want to live in one place though, she wanted to keep moving.
And once she starts earning enough, she'll buy the first plane out ticket of here. Nothing is keeping her in Lima, nothing and no one.
X
Her sexuality is a curious infection. Brittany noticed when she was 15 that whoever she had kissed (girls and boys) would grow attached to her. They would follow her around like their shoe laces had been tied to hers or act as though that annoying finger trap thing that people buy in foreign countries was keeping them together.
Brittany secretly enjoyed the attention, but put on a 'too cool' façade. Boys that adorned letterman jackets had invented a nickname for her that she was never actually told. No one was her friend, not even the misfits under the bleachers that she'd talk too about depressing matters. She only ever had acquaintances. Brittany was secretly afraid that if she ever brought someone home that they'd take one look at her parents and tell everyone at school that she lived with aliens.
So when she did eventually become sexually active she was always in a park or the person's house when nobody was home. She never actually had intercourse with any boy and she only ever fingered girl's; whether they were on the cheerleading team wanting to experiment or book nerds wanting their first sexual contact to be with the same sex because they had a fear of long probing machines.
Brittany describing her sexuality as a curious infection was not egotistical at all, she was actually honoured people wanted anything to do with her physically. She never liked being taller than most boys or that her bones would protrude from her shoulders. She never admitted the fact that she was self-conscious (she didn't really have a mentor to talk too) because if she didn't like herself then how was someone supposed to love her.
She felt sorry for the cheerleaders who starved themselves to be perfect for their coach and try to win the attention of the quarterback of the football team. Her sympathy did not stretch far though, especially for her parents. They didn't lend support to her and she didn't even try to show them any in return. Not because her heart was made of stone and at any moment she would erupt and pull a knife out of the drawer with the intention of using it.
Brittany simply did not have emotions left for her parents.
Rejection had become a new term in her lexicon. She did not strive to regain her parents support or respect. Her life with them had not been the kind of life she would have chosen if she did have a choice. She wouldn't wish it on anyone. Although, she believes everything happens for a reason. Like that one time she decided to skip detention and found two football players hooking up under the bleachers, or the time her mom forced her to go to church just as she finished downloading the entire series of The L Word.
She had beat her conscious half to death that day, because while her parents were conversing with their friends in the church parking lot, Brittany pulled out a permanent marker and scribbled 'Unicorns Rule' on the side of the building, just big enough to be seen as people drive in.
So not only is her sexuality a curious infection, but she's also a Unicorn; the unicorn. But no one will ever hear that from her lips.
Brittany unzips the backpack on her floor and pulls out a permanent marker, twisting it between her fingers and smirking. She definitely feels like getting out of the house now.
X
Have you ever witnessed a panther having sex with a fox? If someone in the world ever has and also witnessed that panther and that fox give birth, they would notice that what is born from the two animals is Santana Lopez. She is smooth, feisty, discreet, sassy, collected and also 5 foot 5 inches of Latin attitude.
When her parents told her they were moving house Santana promised herself she would never change. She would keep her cool, calm exterior and accept any type of person as her friend. Unfortunately Santana wasn't moving to a neighbourhood where is acceptance was normal. Class and status mattered more than to the people of Lima Heights than anything else. It took a while to find the right house; mainly because her parents were perfectionists and wanted a Georgian themed home. Santana on the other hand preferred modern and simple, so when they found their perfect home in the perfect neighbourhood, the brunette's parents decided that half of the house would be presented to their liking and the other half Santana could do what she wanted to it (she's an only child).
Two walls in her extravagantly large bedroom were covered in posters of famous people and the other two had graffiti on them already. Santana promised her parents that when they move again she'll make sure to paint over all of it. She's certain they won't be staying in this house; it definitely doesn't scream forever. Besides, Lima Heights High school isn't anything to rave about. Everyone there is either in a club or team or a failing student.
She chose Spanish as her language subject (it sure surprised her parents) because she'd already familiarised herself with the entire language since she was little. Her Abuela taught her how to say random sentences such as:
'I will hit you over the head with this chair'
'Shame on you'
'Please pick up my dry cleaning or die'
'Let me shine your shoes with my own spit'
Santana had a relatively average child hood. She got along with her parents, never went through a rebellious stage, mostly because Santana's parents pay for everything she wants. So maybe her child wasn't exactly 'average' because most teenagers don't get a Lexus for their 16th birthday and most teenagers don't total it the following day.
She's happy her school is only around the block so she can walk. Although she'll have to join some team because her feet are sore from wearing heels and a lot of the cheerleaders get to wear comfy white sneakers.
And that's where Santana changed.
The first time she laced up those white sneakers and put on that cheerleader uniform her attitude changed dramatically (at school, definitely not towards her parents) towards all of the Glee club members, the nerds, the misfits, the jocks. She became the girl she hated at her old school. Of course it wasn't by choice; she was peer pressured.
Her heightened, bitchy attitude got her in the front of the cafeteria line, head cheerleader and the attention of the Quarterback. However, as much as any girl at Lima Heights would want all of that, Santana was different. She knew something was missing, something…real or maybe even someone.
X
Santana didn't believe that anyone lived in the house next to hers. Well, apart from one bald guy that bought way too much food from the grocery store for just one person. Santana thought he may be keeping someone captive in the basement so as always, she put on her cheerleading uniform, combed through her long, brown tresses and got her mom to whip up her famous chocolate cake.
She was hesitant at first so she may have spent about two or so minutes behind the fence in her own front yard, singing the chorus of her favourite rap song. She grew curious when she peered up to a window beside the balcony on the side of the house facing her own home and saw the curtain moving. Someone was definitely there.
Without a second though, Santana strode up to the front door and knocked. It wasn't long before the bald guy opened the door with a big grin and Santana immediately regretted her decision to meet the neighbours. She would have had to do it sooner or later though and her parents believed that one year living next to them was long enough time to avoid them.
"Um hi," she begins, holding the plate of cake in trembling hands.
"Hey there," the man says joyfully.
"I'm your neighbour and I thought since we just moved here, well not just," Santana laughs awkwardly, "it's been a year or so and my mum makes really good cake so here you go."
The man purses his lips and takes a long whiff of the cake as he takes the plate. "Thank you very much neighbour!"
"No problem," the brunette releases a long breath, "Have a good day sir." Santana quickly hurries back into the safety of her house and up into her room. Realising she didn't even ask if the man lives with anyone Santana sighs and slaps her forehead. She's glad it's Sunday though, she loves Sundays. Her ideal Sunday would be lying by the pool with a fruit smoothie and music. Now that she actually has a pool, that dream can be lived.
"Santana!" Her mom yells from downstairs.
"Ugh," Santana groans, throwing down her towel. "Yes mom?"
"Take Benny for a walk!"
Santana mumbles curse words under her breath because for some reason she thinks her Abuela will be able to hear her from the grave and send a roaring truck right through the wall of her bedroom.
X
One thing Santana despises about her neighbourhood is that each front yard has perfectly mowed grass. It makes her sick. She's decided to head down to her school oval so that Benny has a chance to run around and poop outside for once. Santana swears her mother thinks Benny is a cat.
When she rounds the corner of a building, ready to take Benny off his leash, the dog suddenly starts growling. Santana frowns, looking up to see the cause of her dog's weird behaviour.
Someone is defacing the building. Santana can't see from this distance so she moves forward, holding Benny in case he decides to attack. She notices the person is dressed in black from head to toe. They have a black beanie atop their head and part of a...ponytail…is sticking out of the hat.
"Hey!" Santana yells, hoping to scare them away. The person, well girl obviously, freezes and drops the marker. She pulls the beanie lower and runs the opposite direction, disappearing behind the building. Santana really wants to let Benny free so he can chase the culprit, but she decides against it. The girl was obviously not drawing some huge mural… Santana walks over to the scene of the crime noticing the black writing etched near the bottom of the brick wall.
"Unicorns rule?" Santana laughs. "Original, I like it."
Santana allows Benny twenty minutes of freedom until she walks him home (he drags her back). She decides to finish off her chores before she relaxes so that way she'll have less time hearing her mother nag her about her duties.
It's late that afternoon when Santana heads out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her waist and heads inside. She hears her mom talking, but realises her dad isn't home. She approaches with caution because the last thing she wants to witness is her mom flirting with the postman.
X
She's been debating a greeting to the neighbours for half an hour. Her uncle just had to go and make delicious cookies for them and asked Brittany to do the rest of his dirty work. She doesn't want to leave the house, especially for this specific reason. She's not great at holding conversations. In fact she's that person that leaves a long awkward pause after a forced laugh.
"Just go!" Her uncle insists.
"I don't fucking see why you can't do it!"
Her uncle grabs a tea towel from the bench and waves it in front of her. "I've got to clean the kitchen."
"Ugh," Brittany groans, grabbing the plate of cookies and storming out of the house. She shoves her feet hard in the grass and concrete all the way to her neighbour's front door.
Without even thinking Brittany slams her fist hard against the door four times before a woman opens it. She doesn't even acknowledge the woman staring back at her with a surprised grin.
"Oh hello," the woman says eagerly.
"Repayment for the cake," the blonde mutters. She shoves the plate at the woman's stomach.
"Uh, right…" A phone starts ringing in the distance and the woman turns around. "Oh sorry excuse me for a moment. Santana come and accept these cookies from the neighbour."
When Brittany hears a smooth voice answer the woman, she looks up and is met with a girl dripping wet, in a towel. Her hair is soaking, flipped over one shoulder and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips.
Brittany goes stiff for a moment, feeling extremely uncomfortable (well, horny). She ducks her head again as the woman leaves and the younger girl approaches.
"Looks yum," the girl, Santana, comments.
"I dunno I haven't tried them," Brittany shrugs, "they could taste like shit."
Santana laughs and that sounds causes Brittany to look up again. Although now, Santana is the one looking down, directly at Brittany's fingers; covered in black ink. The brunette smirks, causing Brittany to glare at her and grow conscious. She's never felt so uncomfortable, horny and vulnerable all at once.
Santana quirks an eyebrow and meets Brittany's eyes again.
"What?" She asks in a defensive tone.
Santana's eyes finally travel to Brittany's blonde ponytail and that's all she needs to confirm her suspicions. "Not only do you have black marker on your fingers, but you have some on your cheek too."
Brittany pouts and wipes her cheek. Santana laughs, reaching for something on the table near the door. "Let me get that." She steps forward, way too close for Brittany's liking(she likes it a lot) and draws a perfect line on Brittany's other cheek to match.
The blonde's normal reaction would be to slap Santana's hand away and tell her to fuck off. But Brittany is so damn intrigued and caught admiring the girl that she can't even speak. And because of that Santana takes another opportunity to draw on Brittany's face; only this time the blonde catches her hand in mid-air and pulls her closer.
"Don't, fucking, touch me," Brittany whispers sternly, punctuating each word.
Santana gulps. She hasn't been this close to a girl before; besides cheerleading practice. "You're kind of the one touching me," she whispers in response.
The blonde's eyes shift to her hand and it quickly drops by her side. "Take the cookies."
"What's your name?" Santana asks suddenly. Brittany rolls her eyes, steps into the house and throws the plate on the table by the door. She then turns and walks out, brushing past Santana on the way.
"Maybe we could be friends," Santana suggests lightly.
"Fuck off," Brittany tells her and hurries to her house. The brunette is left at the door giggling. That was fun, Santana thinks. She didn't even get the girl's name though so she can't even make a good nickname for her.
Although she does know one thing the blonde doesn't know she knows. Santana runs out of the house and catches Brittany just before she gets inside hers.
"Unicorns rule!" She shouts. The blonde halts in the doorway. Cringing at the way Santana said it; like she was trying to get under her skin. Brittany doesn't reply however, she just slams the door and heads to her room.
"Yeah they fucking do, you sexy asshole," the blonde murmurs as she runs up the stairs.
X
Santana does not consider herself a lesbian, whatsoever. She prides herself on how much attention she receives from the male species. It may have been for her firm ass or luscious lips or even her flexibility, but Santana knows it wasn't simply for her. She does not have the type of personality someone could fall in love with.
She flirted, seduced and teased boys at her old school. They would grow cold towards her because she wasn't 'easy'. Half the cheerleading squad at Lima Heights High were however, easier to get into bed. She learnt this at a squad meeting inside one of the classrooms of school. Unfortunately no one warned her about how much sex they were going to discuss so she sat there silently listening to other girls talk about their latest fling and would only voice her opinion so the other girl's believed she wasn't a prude.
Her list of lovers stemmed from the school's sports teams mostly. She didn't allow them inside her pants of course, but giving them blowjobs and hand jobs was something she excelled at and everyone at her old school knew it.
There had been tall blonde girls at her old school Santana found hot but that was just her natural instinct as a female to stick up for other females. She understood that some girls were yet to discover their potential hotness, but she didn't go around giving makeovers to them because how would that look to everyone else?
Yes, there had been many girls that Santana labelled hot to trot. But her next door neighbour (she really should have asked for her name) is beyond hot. Santana felt an attraction towards the girl as soon as she saw her standing at her family's front door. And half of that attraction was based on how the blonde girl stared at Santana. It almost…turned her on.
She's sure that it's just physical attraction though and her neighbour was probably just admiring her beauty. Who wouldn't? Santana thinks to herself as she lies in bed. Maybe she can go over there after school tomorrow and become friends with her (not because she wants to stare at her the entire time…) because she's a mysterious girl that likes writing graffiti on public buildings – also because Santana wouldn't mind looking at the girl again, but that's just because the blonde's eyes are like a cat's. She hated that the blonde was so attractive and engaging and also that she was kind of a bitch. But that's something they share in common and something that could start a conversation tomorrow.
Santana isn't sure how much she wants to know about her neighbour, because she could easily be in an arranged marriage with that bald guy living with her. Maybe she's not happy there…maybe Santana moved next to this girl to save her.
"What the fuck am I thinking?" Santana curses quietly to herself. She reaches over to her bed side table and twists the cap off her sleeping pills. Maybe she shouldn't take them tonight, because the more she thinks about Brittany the more she wants to stay awake and think about her some more.
