AU. Santana goes to Europe with her friends. For two months they will travel around Europe and live at the most luxurious hotels. What happens when the Latina runs into Brittany who's backpacking through the continent with her friends? Will they meet again, or was it just a one time thing? Maybe fate and serendipity start doing their thing...

So I actually started this because I'm currently not having any inspiration for my other fic, "Picture Perfect".
But don't worry, it's coming! And it's going to be first priority! (if you're not reading it, you should! Supermodel Brittany and photographer Santana!)
I'm not even sure if I will continue this, but let me know what you think and if you think I should give it a shot! I really don't like the title, but mehh.
If I do give it a shot, I doubt that everything will be written in "you form"...

Don't own Glee, etc.

Prelude

When you said 'yes' to this, you should've known that this would happen. You should have known and deep down you actually knew. But only the most stupid person would say no to the offer you got.
Saying 'yes' when Sugar asked you that question is why you're here, with your eyes tightly shut and a pillow pressed down over your face.
You're lying in your bed at the luxurious hotel that Sugar's father owns. It's the most romantic place on Earth, or so you've heard. You think that maybe you've watched too many movies, but then again, what else would you do when you're bored.

The rich daddy's girl is sleeping next to you on your left, snoring with her mouth wide agape. On your right is what really caused this annoyance. Rachel Berry is having her own vocal exercise. At 11PM, after an, God only knows how long that flight took, down to the Western Europe and Paris. France.
Are you tired? That would be an understatement.
Neither you or Sugar could sleep on the plane.
You, because the engine was so loud and Rachel was snoring louder than her singing. The kid who sat behind you, kicking the back of your seat, was no help either.
Sugar, because she was too excited for words, bouncing up and down in her seat until the stewardess told her to calm down. She didn't calm down.
So now, the jet lagged midget is wide awake and singing some Broadway tunes in the middle of the night. You're just waiting for the hotel staff to come up and knock on the door, but then again, why would they? The daughter's boss is in this room, no one would want to mess with her. Thinking about Sugar, you don't even know how it's possible for her to sleep.

You shout at the singing brunette through the pillow. But she's not listening, or she tries, but she can't hear you because it came out so muffled.
You throw the blanket and pillow away and tell Rachel that you're going to the lobby for a while. That was a lie, because you're going out to smoke.
You don't know why you're lying about your smoking habits, maybe it's because you're too tired to listen to the hobbit rant about how unhealthy and dangerous it is. You know that already. But it's not stopping you.

Once you're outside you take a deep breath. Now when you're actually here, you can feel the excitement blubbering inside of you.
Everything is booked and paid already, because this was on the Motta's, an early 21st birthday present to Sugar, who wanted her best friends with her.
What Russel's daughter wanted, his daughter got.
You're in fucking Europe. For two fucking months. You're going to stay at some of the most amazing five star Motta Hotels all across Europe. It's still sinking in...
This is going to be the Summer of a lifetime.
You're still a little sad that Mercedes couldn't come with you, because that meant that you wouldn't have anyone to distract you from fighting with the Barbra.

You light your cigarette and look down at the street. Sports cars are parked along the road and the luxurious hotels are lined up next to each other on this side of the street, with smaller bistro's and brasserie's on the other side.
You're surprised that there aren't any fashion boutiques there.
Inhale, exhale... you're used to the taste now. You think it's relaxing.

You don't know why you can make out those voices, but you do. Maybe it's because they sound American, and that you're happy that you're not the only American's in this country.
You know it's probably a woman based on the voice, but as you look everywhere around you, you can't see anyone.
You're usually not an eavesdropper, but they're basically shouting at each other so it's hard for you to ignore it.

"I think we're on the wrong street. This look expensive."

You let out a silent 'duhh', because duhh, this is side of the street is expensive. Not that you're paying.
You still can't see anyone and it's silent for a moment until the same voice breaks the silence again.

"Britt! Calm down! You're practically running away from us!"

"Slowpokes!"

"Please, can we stop for a while. My feet hurt and I feel like crying. We've been walking around in circles for what feels like hours. If we don't find that hostel soon..."

"I haven't gotten my beauty sleep..."

You made out four voices. You think back at what they said. They're lost.
You probably would've gotten lost too if it weren't for the fact that Mr. Motta had hired a limo driver to drive you around everywhere.
You tune out for a while, because that's when you see her.
She looks like an angel sent down from heaven, with her blonde flowing hair and perfect body.
She's the most glorious person that you have ever laid your eyes on.
You catch your mouth agape and quickly closes it.
From this distance you can see that she's carrying around on an enormous backpack and a smaller suitcase, holding a map in her free hand.

Your cigarette is forgotten and you throw it away.
You don't know why you're doing it, but when you take the first step away from the curb it's like you're dragged to this woman, it's like something possesses you.
When you're almost next to her, you speak up. You're afraid that your voice will break, but when it doesn't, you know that you can do this.

"Do you need any help?"

You smile wide as the blonde is turning around and facing you for the first time.
This close, you know that you were right when you saw her from across the street. You can only describe her as breathtaking.
The woman's lips curls up into a smile, mirroring you, you can see that the smile reach her eyes.
She's smiling at you, and you think that you might faint. But you don't.

"Yes, please. I think we're lost..."

So, yeah. Let me know if it sounds interesting!