Title: You Found Me
Rating: PG-13 for language, definitely to change in the future.
Author's Note: This is my first time writing fanfiction in a few years, and my first Brittany/Santana fanfiction. I promise I will get better, so please bear with me, and let me know what you think, what I can improve on, etc. Also, I apologize for the unoriginal title, I'm horrible at coming up with titles. Anyway, enjoy!
You Found Me: Chapter 1
My alarm didn't go off that morning. I suppose it didn't matter because I didn't have to be at work until five that night, but it was still nice to wake up on time in my schedule. But because I had worked so late the night before, I ended up sleeping in until three in the afternoon.
I was supposed to meet someone for lunch, but I completely slept through that. I grabbed my phone and texted a quick apology to my friend—girlfriend—no, friend. I didn't know what she was, but I knew I liked her. And she liked me. But nothing was really official yet. I hoped I hadn't fucked things up by sleeping all day. I had barely enough time to shower (I take long showers) and stop for a cup of coffee before leaving from my shitty apartment for work. I didn't really care that my place was shit though. I was affordable enough, and it was in a decent neighborhood, plus it's not like anyone ever came over.
I worked at Mauricio's. It's this diner/bar where, if we want and if we're talented, we would sometimes get to sing on weekends. It's usually just either working the bar or waiting tables, though.
This was just another long day at work. Thankfully I wasn't performing tonight, or else my ass would be way too tired. I was just manning the bar. Though, on a Friday night in Los Angeles, the bar could get pretty damn busy. At least when people stopped coming for food I got a bit of help from my coworkers who were originally waiting tables.
It was around three in the morning when things started to slow down. I usually close up at night, I've been the one to close up for four years. The boss trusts me. Everyone usually heads home around 2:30 when there's only about two customers left.
I was patient with the last customers, it's not like I was in a hurry to get home. I would probably have an earful of angry voicemails because of the date I missed once I was able to check my phone again anyway. I just started cleaning up a bit. I wiped down the bar and a few of the empty tables.
Finally, the last person paid and left and I was alone. It had been a long day, I just wanted to sit for a moment. I was looking down at the bar counter with my head in my hands when I heard the door jingle and footsteps inside. Damn it, I thought, I should have locked the door or switched the sign to closed.
"I'm sorry, we're closed," I said bitterly without looking up or opening my eyes.
"Santana?"
My eyes shot open. I hadn't heard that name in five years. I hadn't heard that voice in five years. The name that I had almost forgotten. The voice I would always remember.
I thought that if I played it cool and acted like I had no idea what she was talking about she might leave. After all, I did look pretty different from the last time she saw me. My hair was much longer then. Now it was barely longer than a bob. Not to mention the piercings I got (my nose, and a stud in my left ear). I didn't say anything.
"Santana, is that you?" she asked.
"There's no one named Santana here," I quickly reply.
"Santana, I know that's you."
I knew that I couldn't avoid it anymore, so I looked up. My dark eyes met her soft blue ones and I felt my heart break all over again. I didn't let it show for very long though, and quickly changed my gaze to a menacing glare. "We're closed," I said. "Get out."
"Wait, San, don't—"
I didn't let her finish her sentence and stood up in front of the bar to face her. "My name is not Santana. Now for the last time, get out before I call the police!" It was harsh, and I almost regretted lashing out. Almost, but not quite.
Brittany stared at me like she didn't know me at all, which was both true and untrue at the same time. She didn't know me anymore, not for the past five years, but she still knew me better than anyone I had met since then. I had become a very private person after moving to California, and even my friends hardly knew anything about me. Honestly, I didn't even consider them friends. But she knew me well enough to know that she wouldn't get anything out of me (besides possibly arrested) by staying tonight. She kept her mouth shut and backed out the door.
She would probably come back. I knew she would have questions after I had disappeared overnight without a trace five years ago. It was her fault though, so maybe I didn't owe her an explanation. But I would probably end up answering anything she asked, because she had a way of doing that to me, making me compliant.
I suddenly regretted kicking her out. I would have much rather talked to her that night, alone, than with other people around, especially people I knew. I was just shocked. No, actually, shocked was an understatement. The moment I heard her voice again I thought I was going to have a fucking heart attack. It was like seeing a ghost.
I smacked my forehead on the bar, silently reprimanding myself for being so stupid and getting myself into this situation, even though it wasn't my fault at all. In fact, what the hell was Brittany doing there in the first place? Last I had checked, she was studying dance in New York, not Los Angeles. And out of all the bars in LA, she just happened to walk into the one I worked in. That was just my luck.
I focused my attention on finishing closing up. When I was finally outside, walking to my car, I shook my head. She would be back. And knowing Brittany, it would probably be tomorrow, or as soon as possible.
I didn't sleep much that night. I was trying to come up with some shit to say to her to both answer her questions and get her the hell back out of my life.