The auditorium was abandoned. Santana sighed, staring out at the empty seats. There was no one there to watch her or judge her (like that bastard Jesse St. Suck). Santana preferred it that way. She sighed heavily.
"Why him?" she murmured.
She couldn't understand Brittany sometimes. Not just her-unusual thought patterns. Santana had never really been able to understand giving to people and expecting nothing in return. The only person she'd ever done that for was Brittany and, once or twice, Quinn. But Brittany did it for everyone. She gave away her heart like it was a trinket or a toy. It made Santana want to hide her away and make sure no one could hurt her, because Brittany was-she was so easy to hurt.
She has Artie now, Santana reminded herself, trying to block the sharp pang of rage that went through her at the thought of Artie being the one to protect Brittany now. Where had Artie been when Brittany had been ten and thought there was a monster under the bed? Where had Artie been when Brittany had gotten into a car accident when she was thirteen? Where had Artie been when Brittany's parents had divorced and she kept calling to ask where her dad had gone with that sad lost edge to her voice?
Artie didn't deserve her.
"But she wants him," Santana told herself sternly.
She promised herself that she wouldn't interfere with Brittany and Artie's relationship. She loved Brittany, and as much as Santana wanted to be with her, she couldn't break Brittany's heart just so she could have her. Santana loved her too much for that. So she waited instead. One day, probably soon, Artie would mess up and Brittany wouldn't want him anymore. And then Santana would be there.
But what if he doesn't mess up? A little voice whispered in the back of her head. Artie was a douche sometimes and he was a boy, but Santana had seen him with Brittany. They worked together. He was nice to her. Brittany loved him. And she doesn't love me, Santana thought, turning away from the hundreds of empty chairs facing her. Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but she forced them down.
If Brittany had loved her, she wouldn't have hesitated before breaking up with Artie. Santana would have done the same thing in a moment if their positions had been switched. But she hadn't.
Santana bit her lip and turned to face the chairs again. She could see Brittany and Artie laughing together in her mind's eye. Even if Brittany ditched Artie, even if they got together . . . . Santana could never hold Brittany's hand in the halls or kiss her openly. She was too afraid. Afraid of the looks, the sneers, the talk behind her back. She wasn't Kurt, or even his little hobbit boyfriend. They walked around McKinley hand in hand, daring the bullies to take a swing at them. But Santana couldn't do that. She just didn't have the courage. And Brittany deserved someone who would hold her hand and kiss her in public. She deserved to be loved openly and freely. Artie could do that for her - Santana couldn't. And that was that.
A flash of a song flickered in the back of Santana's mind. Her mouth twisted wryly.
"Sometimes it lasts in love," she sang softly, to an empty auditorium. "But sometimes it hurts instead . . . ."
"Santana?"
Santana whirled around to see Blaine standing behind her, sheet music in his hand and his eyebrows raised.
"What're you doing here?" she demanded immediately, drawing out anger to hide the embarrassed flush on her cheeks. "Do you get a kick out of spying on people or something, short stuff? Bet Kurt gets a kick out of that-"
"Are you alright?" Blaine asked.
Santana was thrown off-balance for a moment. "Just peachy, Frodo," she snarled.
Blaine smiled. "I've heard worse from Coach," he reminded her. He set the sheet music down on the piano and crossed the stage to her side. "It's just-Kurt told me. About you and Brittany."
"Doesn't he know how to keep his mouth shut?" Santana muttered.
Blaine laughed. "He and Mercedes are horrible about it," he admitted. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Santana eyed him. "No offense, eyebrows, but I don't need a fairy godmother. And you're the last person I'd talk to about anything."
Blaine shrugged. "I just thought-well. Okay, don't hate me, but since we're both-"
"Both what, hobbit?" Santana said, lowering her voice dangerously.
Blaine didn't seem very scared, damn him. "Both gay," he said. "I just feel like we should stick together. Especially at this school. And if there's anything I can do to help, I will."
Santana shook her head. "Me, taking romance advice from you? Like you said, Kurt doesn't exactly keep his mouth shut - how long did it take for you to man up and smooch him, hm? And you think you're the expert?"
Blaine laughed again. Santana was getting really tired of that. "Look, I know I'm no expert, but I can at least listen, if nothing else. And, no offense, but it doesn't seem like you have many close friends, Santana."
Santana opened her mouth to dispute that, then closed it slowly. Besides Brittany, who she couldn't talk to about it, and Quinn, who she didn't want to talk to about it, she didn't really. She might have been able to talk to Kurt, but . . . . She didn't know how to ask him about it.
Blaine was eyeing her closely. He was far too perceptive for a hobbit.
"If it helps, you could always sing about it," he suggested carefully.
Santana thought about it. Singing had never been her venue of expression before - she preferred athletics or dancing or sex. But in the past year it had become something that she was (even to herself) surprisingly good at. She liked it. And a certain song had been nagging at her . . . .
"How well do you play that piano, short stuff?" she asked.
Blaine smiled. "Better than Kurt," he said, then added in a whisper, "But don't tell him I said that." He moved away from Santana and towards the piano. "What were you thinking?"
Santana hesitated for a moment. "Someone Like You," she said. "Adele."
She refused to look over at Blaine, but she could imagine his look of pity. Still, after a few moments the opening bars began. Santana looked out into the empty seats and imagined Brittany sitting there, staring up at her. She took a deep breath.
"I heard that you've settled down
That you've found a boy and you're
Married now . . . .
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess he gave you things
I couldn't give to you."
Santana's mind flashed to the openness between Artie and Brittany, how they could show their love so easily and freely. Her heart ached. Even in the real world, the world beyond McKinley, she didn't know how comfortable she'd be kissing Brittany in public. She would always be afraid that someone would point and laugh at the lesbians.
"Old friend, why are you so shy?
It ain't like you to hold back
Or hide from the light."
Santana smiled. Brittany was the sweetest person she knew, but she also had a-confidence. Santana liked to pretend she was confident, but she wasn't. She just put up a good mask.
"I hate to come out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn't stay away, couldn't fight it
I had hoped you'd see my face
And that you'd be reminded that for me
It isn't over . . . ."
The sad thing was that Santana could see Brittany growing older and moving beyond her, but Santana wasn't sure that she'd ever be able to get over Brittany. The core of it was that Santana let very few people get close to her. Brittany had been her best friend since they were four and they had been through everything together. Santana would never find another person who knew her as deeply. The thought letting that go, of moving past it . . . It made her heart ache.
She shook her head and opened her arms, stretching them towards the stage lights above her. In the audience, the imaginary Brittany stared up at her.
"Never mind, I'll find
Someone like you.
I wish nothing but the best
For you too.
Don't forget me, I'll beg
I will remember, you'll say.
Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead
Sometimes it lasts in love,
But sometimes it hurts instead."
Santana could feel the tears burning. She didn't let them fall.
"You know how time flies
Only yesterday was the time of our lives.
We were born and raised in a summer haze
Bound by the surprise of our glory days."
Santana didn't think she'd ever forget the last few years. She'd found a group of friends that, for the most part, accepted her. She'd found a talent that she'd never known she possessed. She'd grown even closer to Brittany. And, despite her reluctance, she'd discovered who she was. She'd fallen in love. Even when she was old and grey, she'd never forget Brittany's face or the brightness of the past two years. That would stay with her until the day she died, even if she died alone and surrounded by cats. Even if she died without Brittany there.
"I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it
I had hoped you'd see my face
And that you'd be reminded that for me
It isn't over . . . ."
Santana closed her eyes and hugged her waist. She could feel tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Never mind I'll find, someone like you
I wish nothing but the best, for you too,
Don't forget me, I'll beg
I will remember, you'll say
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."
Loving hurt so much. The thought of not being with Brittany, of having to keep her distance and continue being her friend-Santana's chest tightened at the thought of it. She didn't want to keep watching the love of her life being happy with someone else. It wasn't fair. It wasn't just. She just wanted to be happy. Was that too much to ask?
"Nothing compares, no worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes are memories made
Who would have known how
Bittersweet this could taste . . . ."
Santana opened her eyes. In the audience, the imaginary Brittany was crying. Santana could taste the salt on her lips. Her voice broke as she sang softly:
"Never mind I'll find, someone like you
I wish nothing but the best, for you too."
Her voice grew and she threw out her arms, silently pleading with her imaginary Brittany to stay, to please, please stay, please-
"Don't forget me, I'll beg
I will remember, you'll say.
Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."
Santana fell to her knees. In the audience, imaginary Brittany was crying into her hands. The tears were falling freely now for Santana - she could feel the drops hitting her hands. Her voice was barely a whisper as she sang:
"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead."
She buried her face in her hands. Abruptly, the piano broke off. Santana didn't realize that Blaine was rushing to her side until she found herself gathered up in a hug. Under any other circumstances, she would have thrown him off or punched him in the nose, but now-Now, all she wanted was comfort. Instead, she turned in his arms and started crying into his shoulder.
"Shh," Blaine murmured, patting her back. "Santana, shh, it's alright, it's going to be fine."
"She doesn't love me," Santana whispered into his shoulder. Blaine's sudden tension told her that he'd heard her. "She loves Artie. Why can't I be enough for her? Why can't she love me instead of him?"
"Santana, I have never seen someone love another person as much as Brittany loves you," Blaine said firmly. "She'll come around. You just have to-give her reasons to come back to you. Show her how much you care. Never, ever let her doubt it."
Santana shook her head. "It'll never happen," she said, too lost in self-pity to feel any embarrassment that she was discussing this with Blaine. "I've lost her. Artie can love her without feeling ashamed or hiding it-"
"Santana!" Blaine said, sounding as close to violent as Santana had ever heard from him. "Listen, I like Artie well enough, but as far as I can tell, he's never going to love Brittany to the depth that you do. And that's what matters, not who can show it openly."
Santana's tears were starting to stop. Slowly, she pulled away from Blaine, wiping at her eyes. "You really think so?" she asked, feeling almost-vulnerable. She hadn't felt that way since she'd confessed to Brittany.
Blaine smiled at her, his eyes all liquid warmth, and Santana could suddenly see why Kurt loved him so much.
"I think so," he said, taking her hand. "All you need is a little courage, Santana. Brittany will come around."
Before she could stop herself, Santana smiled at him. "You know, you're not half bad, for a hobbit," she said conversationally.
Blaine laughed. It wasn't as annoying as it had been before. "And you're not half bad for Satan, as Kurt calls you."
"That little bitch!" Santana cried, outrage washing out the rest of her tears. "I knew it wasn't a slip of the tongue-"
Blaine dissolved into helpless laughter and Santana stopped, watching him. She felt, with sudden certainty, that she'd gained a new friend. And, though she tried to suppress it, a warm glow spread throughout her body.
Friends, she thought, trying for irritable and only sounded affectionate. They're making me mushy.