It had been dawning on Santana for what seemed like the longest time. You see, the young Latina was always incredibly sure of herself. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. Seldom could you find a single soul who ever caught Santana in a situation where she didn't handle it with her snark and wit. It was her Junior year, and she was seemingly on top of the world. She was beautiful, popular, Vice Captain of the Cheerios; what more did she need? She wasn't one of those people who had it all in school and had a horrid home life, for her homelike was good and fine as far as home lives go.

However, it's been said that when you live life in a way that is not truly who you are, it begins to get the better of you. Now in the past the fiery young lady would have never took such a saying to heart, but nowadays, it was beginning to describe her. It was out of her control. Her heart began to long for things that were out of her control, and her essence of uttermost self-confidence began to wear down until it was nothing more than a think film that she hid behind to keep from breaking down.

When Santana was as young a middle school student, she began to realize that things were different for her, but she never thought anything more of it. She liked boys. Just like they told her in church. Just like she was supposed to. However, often felt an attraction towards girls, but she assumed it was because she envied their beauty or charm; not because she was a lesbian. God, from time to time Santana would be the one who would spark up a "gay joke" in the cafeteria to stir up some drama. She had seen people, she had heard the stories of the hardships that gay people went through, and frankly she didn't want to deal with those types of issues, so she bottled up these feelings and temptations and left them on a shelf.

When she entered high school, things began to change. She began to become more promiscuous in every aspect. She lost her virginity only two months into her Freshman year at the age of 15, and to everybody, that seemed completely normal. However, everything changed when she tried out for the Cheerios.

The young Latina walked into the large gymnasium wearing a tank top and some dancer shorts that in no way abided by the school's dress code, but the school faculty knew better than to confront her about. There were too many girl's for the girl to count, but every single one of them seemed to come to attention when a middle-aged woman with short blond hair wearing a red tracksuit exclaimed through a microphone

"Listen up, you tape-worm eating hopefuls, it's more crowded in here than an episode of Hoarders. Im gonna call your names, and those will be your groups. Alright, Im specifically selected this first group because there are no fatties, which by the looks of it, is a pretty big accomplishment. Group one…. QUINN FABRAY, BRITTANY PIERCE, SANTANA LOPEZ…".

Once the brunette heard her named called, the other names sort of became a large blob of information that was going to inevitably be thrown out, as it was not in her nature to remember things that didn't involve herself.

As she trotted to the front of the room, she saw before her two other girls. One of them was a tall, thin girl with long blond hair and a dancerly body. She was undeniably pretty, but the girl standing beside her, that was the girl that caught Santana's eye.

She was a young Marilyn Monroe. Her eyes the most mystifying shade of green, her bone structure was as if it were sculpted by Donatello himself, her legs being tan like the smoothest caramel, yet her face like ivory. Santana would be lying if she said that she wasn't jealous to a degree that there was a girl even prettier than herself at this school, but there was a feeling that overrode that, and that was the feeling of attraction. She watched in awe as the young blonde seemingly had the entire school wrapped around her manicured finger.

Brittany, the tall, dancerly girl and Santana became like Thelma and Louise. They were the best of friends and were practically insepperable. Quinn, the ghost of Grace Kelly herself, and the beautiful Latina had also become very close, but there was something in Santana that kept her from being as close to Quinn as she was with Brittany, and that was her insecurity.

Over time, as their high school career's ticked on, Santana's feelings of desire began to grow until they made the young firecracker burn dull.

It was halfway through her Junior year, and like I aformentioned, everything was going as Santana had hoped. However, nowadays, there was something off about the brunnette. She knew it, the school knew it, and damn near the entire town of Lima knew it. Gossip ensued when the first week went by where Santana hadn't gotten into a tussle on school grounds, and even more in-depth gossip occurred when an entire day went by without the Latina making a self-esteem-shattering remark.

Like so many best friends do, Santana and Brittany had many a sleepover. However, while Brittany may not have been the smartest girl in the world, what she lacked in IQ, she made up for in intuition.

The two girls were sitting on the floor of the blonde's bedroom, listening to music while defacing a few photos they had printed out of Rachel Berry. Just another night.

"Hey, San?" Brittany questioned.

"Yeah, Britt Britt?"

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" the brunette replied.

"I'm not stupid, Sanny. I know theres something up, and I wanna know. Like…now." Brittany said in a failed attempt to sound intimidating and demanding.

Santana raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" the girl said in response.

"You know what I mean. Santana, you arent yourself. Rachel wore a pink reindeer sweater today."

"Well, I guess I just didn't notice. What the Hell does that have to do with anything?" Santana said, her tone of voice blatantly annoyed.

"Exactly! You would have noticed. Im your best friend forever Santana, and I know when you're hurting. Please, just talk to me."

"I SAID it's nothing, okay?! Drop it!" Santana snapped, slamming her Sharpie marker onto the ground, pushing off of her heels and springing herself on her feet. It was a move she learned whilst being apart of the Cheerios.

"I just want to know what's wrong, Santana!"

"And you wont just leave me alone! Theres nothing wrong, but you wont listen to me!" the girl exclaimed.

Tears began to well up in Brittany's eyes. She never was a fan of violence, and especially when directed at her.

"Youre gonna cry now? Great. Just damn great. You want me to just say it? You want me to say it?!" Santana said, the words flying off of her sharp tongue and into the frail heart of Brittany, who took even the most rash of insults like a poisoned barb to her heart. But, like any wound, it would heal with time.

"T-that's all I want…" Brittany said in just under a whisper.

Santana huffed out a breath, relocating herself to sitting on the edge of Brittany's bed. Her elbows were on her knees, and her head was bowed in her hands as tears began to well up behind her deep chocolate eyes.

Brittany took a seat next to Santana, wrapping her thin arms around her, gripping her arm as Santana let out a weep which seemed to multiply more and more as the seconds inched by.

After a gasp for air in the midst of her tears, she uttered one thing, "Quinn…".