DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee or any of its bitches.
AN: Well, this is my first story on FF- actually, my first story in general. I guess we'll just see how it goes- Also, this chapter is super short because something came up and I couldn't finish it- but another will probably be up by the end of tomorrow... HAPPY READING
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Third person POV
The New York Subway… it's one of those places where everything just seems to come together: social classes, personalities, germs… It pretty much epitomizes what is "New York City." Disgusting to some, sure, but to two women in particular, at first, it was simply a means of transportation. But those dirty, metal bins ended up being the vehicle of their future, and love was the destination.
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It was a Monday and Santana was not happy about it. She'd spend the day waiting on tables, like always. Or, to be more accurate, she'd really be waiting on perverts and constantly cleaning up the juice and god-knows-what that some careless, crying toddler knocked over (for the first time, if she was lucky). She was not excited to resume the glamorous life that she found herself in.
"No, for shit's sake! I don't want your over-excitable fingers all over my dinner! I'll make myself something acceptable and free of dead troll skin when I get home tonight. No. Nope. I'm leaving now. NO! Goodbye!" Santana ended the call and shoved her cellphone in one of the countless pockets of her trench coat. She wore the oversized thing not to make a statement of sorts, no. She actually wore it to avoid doing exactly that, seeing as she figured prancing around New York in her bright red uniform from the diner would probably not be the best idea, considering it would 1. Be far too reminiscent of her old cheerleading uniform and days- a time which she did not want to re-live 2. Be far too enjoyable for the eyes of those walking on the public and cold concrete sidewalks that made up her daily route. 3. Be… well… not ideal for walking over steam-emitting potholes or sitting on the train for 40 minutes- with the skirt's ridiculously short nature, the subway seat's ridiculously sticky nature and the average middle-aged male commuter's ridiculously disgusting nature.
So, she walked down the stairs of her normal station, not enjoying the challenge that her high-heeled, red, pleather boots were posing her. But, she dealt with that as she had every other day; however, not without entertaining the idea of taking one of those nice, skinny heels and shoving it up Gunther's tight ass as a "thank you" for letting her wear such great outfits to work!
The train was there when she arrived, so she boarded the first car, sat down, and took a minute to appreciate something as simple as a perfectly timed train. She found herself doing that often these days; taking a moment to stop everything in recognition that something seemingly miniscule went so right when it could have easily gone so wrong and cast negativity on her mood and on the rest of her day.
So, she sat and shut her eyes. She inhaled deeply through her nose, the corners of her mouth rising slightly, as if she was lifting them with the intake of her breath. Her eyes opened slowly as she began to exhale, only to be closed hard as she saw some sorry bastard try to pry open the closing doors of what had been Santana's empty, personal subway car.
"Ughh fuck me," the seated woman mumbled under her breath as she attempted to calm herself down from the anger she was feeling. No one ever came into this car on this train. It was her car. Somehow she had managed to secure the exclusivity of that first car, whether it be through luck or through the death-stares she gave to anyone that joined her, only to be frightened into the car over after one stop.
"Shit," Dani whispered as she caught sight of an unexpected body sitting in the car that she'd just walked into. She used to be in the routine of getting on this exact car every morning because it was empty, but that was years ago. It occurred to her that it had in fact been years since she was able to take the subway daily and it wasn't exactly reasonable to expect the same solitude, but part of her was still hopeful that her special spot had been reserved over all this time.
Santana examined the newcomer under judgmental eyes, but eventually decided to accept the fact that her sole reign over subway car #1 had come to an end. She'd never done this before, welcome another person onto her car. But, she found herself sympathetic towards the woman who was now sitting diagonal from her in an attempt to avoid what Santana assumed to be eye-contact, not recognition. Both women were wearing long trench coats, which the Latina knew was never a top choice in attire for women their age, so she assumed that this mystery woman had something to hide, just like Santana. Given, the newcomer's coat was white, leather and obviously more expensive than that of the Bushwick-resident's, but Santana was still intrigued.
Little did she know, the same thoughts were going through Dani's head as well.
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AN: I know this is really short but I've gotta run- I'll probably post another chapter today, but I wanted to get something up while it was on my mind. If you've got any comments as far as POV, etc. then feel free to leave a comment, blah blah blah.
WOW OKAY FIRST CHAPTER UP THIS IS GOOD OKAY YES LET'S DO THIS
