Chapter 1

A new Quinntana fic for you all! I haven't written fanfic in about a year, so bear with! Enjoy! Reviews/faves/follows are much appreciated x (and, yes, the inspiration for this fic is indeed the song Pyramids by Frank Ocean!)

The only job you're going to have is working on a pole.

Santana chuckled lightly under her breath, taking another sip of her drink. Jack Daniels; her favourite. Alcohol always makes old memories pop up, whether they be good ones, or bad ones.

The only job you're going to have is working on a pole.

Another sip. After Rachel Berry had made that delightful comment, Santana was determined to prove her wrong. What right did that little dwarf have, calling her out like that? Okay, sure, she had made a few more remarks on her choice of outfit than day than usual but really, people should've been used to it.

The only job you're going to have is working on a pole.

Santana sighed, gulping down the remains of her drink. She held the glass in her hand, shaking it slightly to hear the ice cubes clink against each other. The music was loud, deafening almost, but she was so used to it, she could clearly hear the ice cubes rattling.

"Another?"

Santana looked up. Jasper, the only bartender she could actually stand, was looking at her expectantly. She looked around, then down at her phone. 23:57. Friday 14March. She shook her head no, although all she really wanted in that moment was another cold glass of Jack Daniels.

"Better not. Can't be late starting."

Jasper nodded in understanding, turning back to the sink to continue washing the glasses. Santana slid off the tall barstool and made her way cautiously to the door that led round to the back of the stage. She pushed it open, the familiar smell of the other girl's perfumes – vanilla, jasmine, lilac, musk, gardenia – quickly filling her nose. So much better than the heady smell behind her, which always made her feel nauseated.

The girls were already there, powdering their faces, pulling on stockings, curling their hair. Santana smiled. This is where she belonged.

"Santanaaaaa!"

Santana turned her head to see Gia rushing toward her, arms outstretched. The other girls turned round to see the commotion, all smiling when they saw who it was.
"Hey, Santana!" They all chorused out, before turning back to their various primping.

"Ohh, Sanny, Sanny, Sanny, I missed you, baby girl!" Gia shrieked, crushing her friend with a surprisingly strong grip. Santana chuckled, reciprocating the hug, although not as hard.
"I missed you too, honey! You're looking so good!"

Gia pulled away, her grin never slipping.

"Aw, thanks! You too! I-" Gia was cut short by the familiar siren sounds, signaling for the girls appearance in 2 minutes. "Shit! I'll see you after the show, okay?" Before Santana could reply, the girl was rushing off, managing to somehow not trip in her sky-high heels. Santana chuckled, turning to the mirror to check herself out. She shed her coat and threw it on the nearby pile of various outerwear, leaving her in just her favourite burgundy satin underwear, complete with black stockings. She took a deep breath, before following the line of girls, taking her place at the back.

"Saving the best for last" is what her boss always told her. He probably told that to every girl who was placed at the back, but she still got a feeling of pride just from remembering his words.

The siren went off again; promptly stopping the pounding of whatever song had been playing. A different song started playing. Santana wasn't sure what it was – outside of her work, she never listened to the music they usually played there. She was more into indie rock, Arctic Monkeys, Vampire Weekend, Two Door Cinema Club. Stuff a lot calmer and relaxing than the shit she usually heard at work.

"And now, welcome to the stage, the Cheetahs!" The line starts moving, and Santana is snapped out of her daze. "We've got Sugar, we've got Bambi, we've got Starr, and Brandy, and Angel, Heaven, Brandi, Crystal." The girls all bounded out, much to the patrons delight.

"And, we've got everybody's favourite…"

The only job you're going to have is working on a pole.

Santana took a deep breath.

The only job you're going to have is working on a pole.

"Cleopatraaaa!"

The only job you're going to have is working on a pole.

Santana immediately became Cleopatra. Favourite at the Pyramids Strip Club. She showed Rachel. Yeah.

The only job you're going to have is working on a pole.

"Cancer."

It felt weird rolling off her tongue. She repeated it.

"Cancer."

And again.

"Cancer."

And again. And again, and again, and again, and again.

"Cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer-"

She repeated it till it was just a word. A meaningless word that has 6 letters, 2 syllables, begins with a C, ends in an R. Just a word. Just another word. She kept going, saying it over and over again till she was out of breath. Even then, she just took a deep breath and started again.

"Miss Fabray," Quinn jumped, suddenly realizing, of course, she's not alone. She's in the doctor's office, sat uncomfortably on his rock-solid leather chair, nails digging into the heels of her hands. She folded her hands in her lap and looked down. Just like her mother always taught her to do when in the presence of a man. "Miss Fabray, I understand that this…this is a very tough thing to take in. But I want you to know; you are under the best medical care. We will do everything in our power to make you comfortable." Dr White continued tentatively.

"Cool." Quinn nodded, quickly leaping up from her seat. Dr White raised his eyebrows in shock – cool? Well, that certainly wasn't a response he usually got from delivering such a bombshell. He also got up, sticking his hand out awkwardly to shake Quinn's. She took it, shaking it quickly, before turning to leave.
"Next week, right? Right, I'll see you then, Dr. Thanks for everything!" The blonde hurried out, leaving her doctor in her wake, thoroughly puzzled. She must be in denial, he concluded, before sitting down and continuing his paperwork.

"Hey mom. Yeah, if you could pick up the phone, that'd be great. Just thought I'd let you know I have cancer. Yeah. Breast cancer. It's, uh, pretty aggressive apparently. Well, whenever you're done fucking your new boyfriend, call me back, or whatever."

She sighed, checking the time on her phone. 13:21. Friday 14 March. Rachel would still be rehearsing. Quinn pushed the heels of her hands in her eyes till she was seeing stars, her nails pressing into her forehead. She was leaving marks, she knew it, but she didn't care.

Cancer.

"Jesus." She breathed, throwing herself down on the sofa. Why her? Had she not prayed hard enough? Missed going to church too often? Maybe it was because she blasphemed one too many times. "Oh God." There she went again. She needed something to drown out her thoughts, so she grabbed her phone and head phones, quickly plugging it in and shuffling her favourite playlist she had made, simply entitled The Never-Skip Songs. The familiar beginning of Step by Vampire Weekend washed over her, and she let out a sigh of relief. A good bit of Vampire Weekend always cheered her up.

"The gloves are off, the wisdom teeth are out…"

Ezra Koenig's voice filled Quinn's mind, helping her relax immediately. However, the song was cut short by an incoming call. Rachel.

"Rach!" Quinn answered.

"Well, hey, stranger!"

Quinn smiled to herself. Rachel had been her best friend since moving to New York. They hadn't gotten on particularly well in high school, but now, they were inseparable.

"What's new with you then, Fabray?"

Quinn took a deep breath, fiddling nervously with a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun.

"I, uh…I j-just got back from the doctors, actually."

"Quinn?"

Quinn could hear the fear and concern in Rachel's voice. God, her best friend already had so much to worry about, she didn't want to add more to her plate. But she knew Rachel would fly off the handle if she didn't tell her ASAP about her current predicament.

"I, um, have cancer."

A moment of silence, then:

"Oh my God, Quinn. Holy fucking shit, holy shit, holy shit." Rachel never swore. Quinn started to panic.

"Rach, calm down…"

"Quinn. I cannot be calm. How you're not running around shrieking is beyond me, and I applaud your bravery, brava, seriously. Oh, God, Quinn."

"I know, I know. Shit, Rach, you're freaking out more than me." Quinn let out a shaky chuckle. It sounded forced and unnatural, so she stopped and cringed.

"Lets go out tonight." Rachel replied, her voice confident and unwavering.

"Out?"

"Yeah. Take your mind off things. My treat."

"Fine, but no gay bars. I'm not having a repeat of last time."