Summary: Santana watched as Brittany slowly stopped being hers and slowly started becoming Ryder's.
Brittany Pierce went from being in a relationship to single.
Brittany Pierce is with Artie Abrams, Sugar Motta and Ryder Mitchell
Brittany Pierce went from single to it's complicated.
Brittany Pierce is in a relationship.
Brittany Pierce is in a relationship with Ryder Mitchell.
You watched it happen. You watched the fallout of the greatest thing that ever happened to you, and you watched as the greatest thing that ever happened to you started to become someone elses.
If you weren't completely numb, you'd know that it would hurt more than anything you could ever imagine. It would hurt more than the hallway, more than the campaign, more than finding out your girlfriend isn't graduating and you have to leave her behind.
She promised - fucking promised - you that it wasn't the end. She said that it's only a few weeks until you see each other again, and then another few weeks until Christmas. Then after that it's just one semester and you'll be together and you'll get to start the rest of your lives. Together. She promised.
But then.
You had a sinking feeling in your stomach the very first time Artie tagged Ryder in a photo on Facebook. You'd talked to Brittany before about what sort of guy she likes - tall, sporty, hair like Zac Efron - and he seemed to tick every box.
You'd always hated but loved that Brittany was open about her sexuality. You loved that she didn't care if someone was male or female or somewhere in between or neither. But at times like this you hate it. You hate it because you know that there are people out there that Brittany's going to fall for, and you're not only competing against girls for her like she would be for you. You're competing against everyone.
You watched as he slowly made his way into the glee club, slowly into the lives of everyone who ever meant anything to you. (Somehow he even managed to become friends with Rachel and Quinn and Puck even though they aren't even at school anymore). The only person who he doesn't seem to make any effort with is you. He doesn't even add you as a friend on Facebook. (But then again, you probably wouldn't add Brittany's ex-girlfriend if you were were trying to get with her either. Ex-girlfriend. You hate it.)
You watched and you watched and you did nothing about it.
Nothing.
Quinn had been texting you constantly - you're losing her. for god sake s you need to do something. get her back! - to which you replied that you'd already lost her. Quinn told you she didn't even recognise you anymore. You don't blame her. You don't really recognise yourself either.
You don't know why you do it, but you're on her Facebook again. It's the only way you know how to keep her in your life even if she isn't. You can't remember the last time you looked at it sober, and you can't remember the last time you didn't cry.
Your Skype tone goes off and you sigh. You're not in the mood for Quinn or Sam or whoever the fuck this is right now.
Brittany.
You jump up so suddenly that you knock the glass of vodka off your table, but you don't even hear it shatter. You don't care. The only thing in the world that matters to you right now is Brittany's name flashing on your screen and that fucking ringtone that you swear is getting louder.
You know you shouldn't answer it. Not in this state. Not when you've been drinking for the best part of six hours, and not when you've just cried your heart out for an hour over pictures of her, but you do. You answer.
The breath leaves your lungs at the sight of her.
She's crying too.
Your stomach drops and hope rises in your chest. You hate yourself for silently hoping that he's broken up with her.
"I miss you," she chokes out. "Santana, I miss you."
You wish you were sober for this. You wish you'd be able to remember this in the morning.
"I miss you, too," you manage to get out through your sobs.
"I'm sorry," she says.
"Me too." You don't even know what for. Maybe everything.
Neither of you say anything for the longest time. You just sit there and look at each other, cry with each other. You don't even know why you're crying, you just are.
"I'm sorry," she says so quietly that you don't know if you imagined it or not. You look at the screen and notice that she's waiting for you to give her your attention.
"I didn't mean for it to happen so soon after - Ryder. I just-"
"- don't," you cut her off.
"Santana, just hear me out. You'd like him if-"
"Britt. Stop," you warn her.
"I miss my best friend."
Your heart breaks even more at that. Brittany's always been the love of your life, the one thing that made your whole existence make sense. But before all that and even during it, she's always been the best friend you've ever - will ever - have. You wish you knew how to be her friend. So you tell her.
"I... I wish I knew how to be your friend."
The smallest smile comes over her face, knowing that there's a part of you that still wants to know her. Still wants her. (Every single last part of you wants her, but you can't. You don't know how. How do you love someone when your heart is broken?)
"I wish you did too."
You need time. You need to be away from her. Even though you're in Louisville and she's in Lima, you feel like she's right here with you and you can't stand it. She's too close, it's too much. The alcohol is amplifying everything and you don't know how to process it.
"I... I'll talk to you some other time, Britt," you say and you put your hand on the mouse to click end call. As you do you hear her say "No! Santana wait, I just want to talk to y-" and the look of desperation on her face as she actually reaches out as if she can hold you and make you stay breaks you in a whole new way.
You close your laptop forcefully and get into bed. It takes you hours to fall asleep.
When you wake up the following morning you're alone.
You're always alone now.