This story is based on the show Younger (if you haven't seen it, I recommend it!) I don't own Glee or Younger. This story is a work in progress and I will update as frequently as I can! Don't forget to follow and review :P

Follow along on tumblr too (jagwriter09). Might be posting some previews here and there!

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN?

Brittany's POV

Divorced.

It was official, signed and filed and just like that almost eighteen years of marriage was over. I can't say that I was disappointed, no, instead it was a sense of relief. Yeah, that's what it was, relief. Relief that I was no longer stuck in a marriage that if I was being honest, was dead years ago, a marriage where I was continuously lied to. Aaron wasn't a bad guy, he didn't cheat on me and I never cheated on him, he just never grew up to be the man I thought he could be, gambling away our money any chance he had, lying about jobs saying he was working when in reality, he wasn't. My friends only knew so much about my life with Aaron but it wouldn't have changed anything, I wouldn't have divorced him any earlier. I did have our daughter to think about. But when I found out all our savings had been cleared, I had had enough.

"Hey, baby. How's orientation?" I asked my daughter immediately after answering the phone glad to hear her voice.

"It's good. But I wanted to check up on you, Mom. I know you were meeting with the lawyers today."

"I'm good, honey. Don't worry about me."

"Not possible," my sweet girl chuckled through the phone. I missed her so much already. "I just feel so bad that this is all happening when I move halfway across the country for school. You know, it's not too late? I can still go to UCLA and be close to home."

"No way, Sam. Not happening," I told her sternly.

"But, Mom I-"

"Nope!" I cut her off before she could continue to even entertain that idea any further. "Sam, you are going to NYU like we planned. Don't worry about me. I'm already looking for a job and I have Rachel."

Rachel Berry. My best friend since elementary school. Growing up only a couple houses away, we were inseparable through middle school, high school and even college, both of us moving to Los Angeles, with Rachel at USC and UCLA for me. All our dreams were coming true, she was studying to be an actor and I was going to be this great writer. Coming from a small town, we both had big dreams and when we both got into great colleges in the great city of Los Angeles, our dreams were starting to become a reality.

"Did you need me to ship anything to you? I'm sending most of your stuff to storage this week now that the house is officially on the market. The realtor thinks it'll sell fast."

"I think I have everything I need," she told me when I heard someone through the line call my daughters name. "Mom, I gotta go. I love you."

"Love you, too. Call me later!"

My big girl. It was crazy to see how fast time flew. It felt just like yesterday the nurses handed me my baby girl, placing her in my arms. My whole world changed when I became a parent at such a young age, twenty to be exact. She wasn't exactly planned and the day I found out I was pregnant was one of the scariest moments of my young life. I had just started my third year of college a bright future ahead of me when one slip up changed all that. Aaron and I met our first year at UCLA at a party that Rachel dragged me to, which was odd since she wasn't even a student there. We hit it off right away and started dating soon after that. He was a handsome young man and I was smitten. He was my first real relationship, second if you count the dysfunctional relationship I had in high school with my on and off girlfriend, Mia. Aaron being the dutiful boyfriend he was, proposed immediately after I told him we were going to have a baby. Oddly enough, he didn't run away at the news, in fact, he was the one who calmed my nerves and my doubts, my doubts about becoming young parents while still in school. And although our marriage ended in divorce, I will never be more grateful for him for giving me my girl, my whole world. It's a strange feeling, being divorced. I don't feel any different, almost like just another day for Brittany Davis, no Pierce, I thought to correct myself.

It was a gorgeous August summer day in LA as I drove down the streets of downtown, windows down, the wind blowing in my hair. For once, I felt free. My daughter was in New York settling in and although the ink of my divorce was still wet, it was over. It was just me, myself and I. Free.

My aimless driving ended as I found myself parked outside the building I've driven to so many times in the past. After college, Rachel pursued her lifelong dream of becoming a Broadway star, and the girl was talented. She had no trouble at all getting the main role after just two auditions. That's how talented she was, born to be on stage. She knew it, I knew it and apparently, everyone else that crossed her path knew it. You could say she was your typical Broadway diva but she was my best friend and had always been there for me through everything, her diva antics not bothering me as much.

She was able to earn good money as she worked as an active actress, traveling the world, performing night after night on some of the biggest shows over the past fifteen years only just recently slowing down and settling permanently in LA. Her building was one of the fancier ones in the area and filled with those 'artsy" types as my best friend loved to put it. I just referred to it as 'Rachel's Rich Bachelorette Pad'. What most didn't know about her was that she was a flirt, I'm sure some of her co-stars knew or grew to find out, Rachel inevitably hitting on some hot new rising star or another. Both of us at 38 years-old had lived two very different lifestyles; me married and divorced with an eighteen-year-old and Rachel, well single and still very much playing the field, and loving it.

Once my car was parked safely in the structure, I made my way to the elevator, clicking the penthouse button to get to Rachel's floor. I tapped my fist against the door simultaneously ringing the doorbell wondering what was taking Rachel so long to answer the door but not to my surprise, it flew open as I watched a rather uncomfortable but not rare scene play out in front of me. Standing in nothing but an oversized white button up shirt was my best friend as she smiled sensually at her newest conquest, kissing them on their cheek before seeing them off. I rolled my eyes at the exchange, the poor girl not knowing what she was getting herself into. I almost felt bad for all the girls Rachel would bring home after flirting her way into their pants but then again it's not like Rachel treated them badly, in fact, I've always seen her take care of these girls so I guess it wasn't such a bad situation.

"I'll call you," she told the nameless girl and waived a small waive her eyes glued to what I assumed was the girl's backside before watching her disappear into the elevator. "So, what do you think? Cute, right?" She asked me slipping back inside and closing the door behind us.

"Not my type. Where'd you find this one?" I asked making myself comfortable in her open loft.

"At my yoga studio," she said but I get distracted by the bottle of wine and two glasses in her hand.

"Isn't it a little early for wine?" I questioned when I'm met with a knowing smirk.

"I just had amazing sex, you're freshly divorced, I'd say we both have something to celebrate," she answered cheekily and handed me a glass. What the hell, I have nowhere to be, I thought to myself and accepted the glass.

"At least one of us is getting some," I joked before taking a sip of her unnecessarily expensive wine. I guess that was the perk of having a rich best friend, indulging in things I wouldn't otherwise ever think to buy myself.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. So, tell me, how was the ass hat?"

"Hey, he might be my ex-husband now but he's not an ass hat," I defended. "Sure, he gambled away all of our money and lied to me for god knows how long, but he's still the father of my child."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just so pissed at him for being so dumb. How is my favorite goddaughter, by the way?"

"First of all, she's your only goddaughter. And she's good, she's happy in New York. I just want her to enjoy this time. College is an awesome experience and the last thing I want is her missing out on anything because she's worried about her mom, you know?"

"That's Sam, always worrying. Kind of like someone else I know," she said with a quirked eyebrow. "I'm sure she'll be fine but if it'll make you feel better, I'll talk to her, you know since I'm the cool aunt and all."

"Totally," I said rolling my eyes at her. "So, what's new with you? Besides your 'amazing sex'."

"Same shit, different day in the life of an ex-star," she spouted with her usual dramatics. Once a Broadway star always a Broadway star. "By the way, I cleared out my guest bedroom for you. I know you're trying to sell the house. I want you to stay with me until you get back up on your feet."

"You don't have to do that, Rach. I'm already looking for an apartment. Not that would do anything if I did find something, I can't really afford rent in LA until I find a job," I told her.

"Yeah, how's the job hunt going?"

"Not good. Every single interview I've been shoved out the door faster than I could imagine. I haven't been out of the game that long but have things really changed that much?"

"What do you mean? You were one of the top editors. They'd have to be fucking crazy not to hire you with your resume."

"Well, then I guess they're fucking crazy. It's insane, Rach. It's like everything I knew doesn't exist anymore. It's all about social media and this advanced technology that I know nothing about. And they won't hire me as an assistant at my age."

After college, I was lucky enough to find a job in the editing world. Sure, I started from the bottom, but I learned quickly and I was damn good at my job. Within five years, I was one of the top editors, making great money. But then I started working later and later finding myself at the office past Sam's bedtime. This started to take a toll not only on me but my child and on my marriage. Without any complaints from Aaron, I made the decision to stop working altogether with the silent promise to myself that I would edit projects on the side but life has a way of filling up empty space and next thing I knew, my days were filled with shuffling Sam to soccer practice, or piano lessons, volunteering on the school board and that left no time for any type of editing I had once dreamt of doing.

"Don't say that. You're not old and plus, why not start at the bottom?"

"No, Rach you don't understand. They literally won't hire me as an assistant. I'm going against these young twenty-year-olds fresh out of college who are on the facebook or the tweet thing."

"The tweet thing? Don't you listen to your daughter when she speaks? It's twitter, for your information and I'm sure a job will pop up. But like I said, you can stay here as long as you need. And I promise to keep the sex to a minimum," she smirked. "Let's go out tonight."

"Out? Like to dinner?"

"No, out. Like to a bar. You're single, I'm single. That hasn't happened since college. Go home, put something sexy on and meet me back here," she demanded practically pushing me out her front door.

/

What does one wear to a bar, I thought to myself as my eyes shifted back and forth between different outfits laid out on my bed. "Casual but sexy," I repeated Rachels words to myself. "How hard can that be? Just pick an outfit, Britt," I continued to talk to myself. Picking an outfit was all that was left, my hair and makeup were already done not that it took long, I wasn't one for a lot of make-up and my hair usually cooperated with me, leaving it down and wavy. "This is ridiculous. It's just Rachel and it's just a bar. Just a drink. Pick an outfit!" I scolded myself and grabbed the pair of black jeans off the bed and slipped into them. I decided to pair it with a simple loose fitted shirt that hung on my shoulders nicely taking a look in the mirror at the final product. "Not bad, Britt," I winked to myself before grabbing my purse and heeled boots.

"What took you so long?" Rachel yelled before even greeting me.

"Calm down. You know my house is in Pasadena, right? And the LA traffic is ridiculous. Aren't we just going to a bar? It's not like we have reservations or something," I snapped back not interested in her diva-ness.

"Whatever. Drink first?" She asked already pouring vodka into two glasses without waiting for an answer from me.

"Sure," I said even though it wouldn't have mattered, she was still going to pour the drinks. This was going to be an interesting night. I was never a big drinker, sure there were those first two years in college but after that, the drinking stopped, I was pregnant after all and was now responsible for another life.

"You're babysitting, Britt," I heard her voice and shot her confused look.

"Huh?"

"Your drink, you've barely touched it. Loosen up a bit."

"Oh," I huffed rolling my eyes before grabbing the glass knocking back the entire drink in one gulp. "Happy?"

"Very," she smirked. "Now we can go."

We ended up walking since the bar was only a few blocks away from her place. It was nice to get fresh air on the walk over. I loved LA summer nights, they were a lot different than summers in Lima even though it had been so long since I lived there. I never got the chance to walk where I lived, Pasadena more of a suburban area but I liked this. The streets were lively, people walking everywhere, some to dinner, some home and some just because. It reminded me of New York, without the cold winters. Cold to native Californians was nothing compared to cold in Ohio or even New York. My poor baby was going to have a hard time come winter.

"Why do I feel like we're the oldest ones in here?" I whispered to Rachel the second we walked in. It was full of people, young people to be exact, way younger than either one of us.

"Shh," She hushed me immediately before turning around and dragging me through the crowded bar toward an open table. "It's cute here, right?"

"Um, yeah," I said scanning my surroundings. "Cute." It was a cool place. It felt like it had been years since I had been to a bar and with the number of people around, it almost felt like it did back in college. It was funny because it wasn't like I didn't enjoy going out. In fact, before I was pregnant I was usually the one getting everyone to take a break from studying. But life seemed to pass by me after Sam, being a student, a mother and now a wife there just wasn't any time for these things.

"You should've seen this place when it first opened. Insane! Actually, this is where I met Sandra," she told me leaning over so I could hear her over the crowd. "Or was it Savannah," she broke into thought. "No, it was definitely Sandra. Now she was a firecracker."

"You are something else, you know that?"

"What?"

"Nothing," I shook my head trying to contain a giggle. "I'll get us the first round."

Pushing through the crowd is something that proved impossible and it seems like hours later I made my way to the front but apparently I was invisible. The first bartender walked right past me to help the person standing to my right. This came as no surprise when I glanced to my right and saw boobs, big perky boobs hanging out of the girl's tops. No wonder the bartender went there first, I thought to myself. After she is helped, I thought it's finally my turn but again the bartender looked right past me. Seriously?

"Excuse me!" I tried waving my hand to get someone's attention. I mean, there were three bartenders and sure, it was fairly busy but I had been standing there for a while and definitely overlooked more than once.

Reaching into my purse, I grabbed a hundred dollar bill out of my wallet, hoping that my new tactic would work and I would finally be able to get a drink. Waving the bill up in the air, I tried and reach around these savage kids to try and get at least an arm on the bar to get noticed. "Hello!"

"Woah," I heard a voice behind me. "You think that's gonna work?" He asked as my head turned toward the source.

"Yeah?" I shrugged.

"Put that away," he said before casually waving his hand toward one of the bartenders immediately grabbing their attention. What the hell? "What are you drinking?"

"Umm, mojito and a daiquiri." He gave me a questioning look but it's paired with a smile, a cute smile too, showing off his perfectly straight white teeth and a dimple threatening to push through on his stubbly cheek. He shook his head before turning back to the bartender.

"Two whiskey's, neat and two shots of the usual," he ordered instead. "Thanks, bro!" He shouted before grabbing the two shots that were miraculously set in front of him. The guy must have known the bartender or something with how quickly he was able to get drinks. He handed me a shot.

"What is it?" I asked skeptically. After all the lectures I've given Sam about not taking a drink from a stranger, here I was about to take a shot from a kid that still didn't have a name and was at least ten years younger than me.

"Best whiskey you can find," he answered simply before bringing the shot glass higher. "Cheers!" And he downed it in one gulp not even waiting for me to do the same as I stood frozen in place. "Damn that's good."

And before he could see me standing like a fool with the shot still in hand, I quickly downed it before feeling the burn down my throat but unlike other times where the burn continued down my throat and to my stomach, this actually smoothed out. "Wow, that is good," I said stunned at the fact that I actually enjoyed it.

"Told you," he said through a cocky smirk. "Dominic," he then continued as he reached his hand across the short distance between our bodies.

Not wanting to be rude, I immediately reciprocated and shook his hand before introducing myself. "Brittany."

"Are you new to the area?" He asked our hands unnoticeably to the both of us still clasped.

"Um, kind of. I live in Pasadena but my hu-, um, my roommate is moving to New York so I'm staying with a friend here," I said quickly. I'm not sure why I felt the need to lie to this person I didn't even know. Maybe because saying I was divorced was a sob story nobody wanted to hear, let alone an attractive young man. He probably doesn't know the first about marriage or divorce.

"That's cool."

"Looks like you come here often?" I asked and immediately regret it when I saw his eyebrow quirk. Now that I had a chance to look at him, he was very attractive. Again, at least ten years younger than me, but he stood tall, I would have guessed about six foot, with a well-built frame, not too muscly and not too thin. His eyes were soft and warm, his skin sunkissed, definitely a California kid.

"You could say that," he said before someone called out his name, again someone from behind the bar.

"Dom! Why don't you stop flirting with the pretty girl and help out!"

I felt my cheeks heat up at the compliment and tried to hide it. "Shut up, Alex. I am not afraid to fire your ass!" He joked back.

"So, you're like the manager or something?" I asked.

"Kind of. I'm the bartender, the manager, the bus-boy." I'm even more confused now and he must've sensed it because it continued to explain. "This is my bar."

My eyes widened at that information. This kid was probably under thirty years old and owned a bar? A successful bar at that. "Wow. Impressive."

"Thanks," he said. "I'm really proud of it."

"Should be. Look like it's a popular spot."

"Eh. It's keeping a roof over my head. I did serve Emma Watson, which was pretty cool until I completely embarrassed myself when I asked if she wanted Butter Beer," he laughed.

"Oh, wow. Yeah, totally embarrassing," I said trying to cover up the fact that I had no idea what he was talking about. "Could've been worse, right?"

"How so?"

"You could've asked her if she was a vampire," I said and I knew right away I said something wrong. I took a guess, Twilight was popular for this generation, right? I could've sworn Emma Watson was the actress from that or was it someone else?

"You're funny," he said and I internally pat myself on the back for getting through that.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Rachel eyeing our exchange and I know she was probably itching to come and see what was holding me up. "Well, thanks for the drink. I should get back to my friend," I said reaching toward the bar to grab the drinks.

"Hey, wait!" I felt his hand lightly grab my arm, his hands so soft against my skin. "Can I get your number?" He asked shyly and it was kind of cute how he looked nervous. But why would he want my number?

"I think I'm a little too old for you," I told him.

"Woah! We gotta be the same age. How old do you think I am?" He laughed. Um, how old do you think I am, I thought to myself utterly confused at what was happening right now. "You gotta be what, twenty-six? Twenty-seven? Come on, I'm not a crazy person, I promise."

I hesitated still in shock that he thinks we could possibly be the same age before he continued to ramble. "Okay, how about this, I'll give you my number and if you are ever in the area, call me. Maybe we can get a drink or dinner."

"Sure." That worked for me, it's not like I was ever going to call the guy. After handing him my phone I made my way back to Rachel as I continued to try and wrap my head around Dominic, the bar owner.

"Here," I said in a trance as I took my seat next to Rachel, handing over her drink.

"Uh, Britt? What took you so long? And who was the hottie you were talking to?"

"People at bars are savages, Rach. I don't know how anyone comes here and enjoys themselves when it's like a scene from the Hunger Games trying to get a freakin' drink."

I watched her roll her eyes at me before pushing for more information about Dominic. "Now who's being dramatic. But seriously, Britt. Who was that? He looked like he was flirting with you."

"He was just being friendly. He helped me get a drink. I guess he owns the bar or whatever," I shrugged.

"Bullshit. He was flirting with you. And he owns this place?"

"Yeah, guess so. And okay, maybe he was flirting a little. I don't really know, no one has really flirted with me in a long time," I said taking a sip of my drink and damn, it was good. "You want to hear something funny? He thought I was twenty-six!"

But Rachel didn't laugh. "Why is that funny?"

"Because I am clearly not."

"Britt, you're hot. And you could totally pass for younger. I mean, have you looked at yourself? You have barely aged since college. And may I remind you, you still get carded."

"Good one, Rach," I laughed at her ridiculousness. "Anyways, sorry I didn't get your daiquiri. He insisted on ordering the drinks for us."

"This is way better. He really knows his stuff."

"Yeah," I said glancing subtly back toward the bar where Dominic was now helping out his employee's. "He really does."

Several drinks later Rachel and I decided to call it night. It was still a beautiful night to be outside. We were able to slip out without any other encounter with Dominic.

"I've been thinking," Rachel said suspiciously when we finally got home.

"And what have you been thinking about?" I asked sarcastically.

"Dominic, was it?" I nodded. "He thought you were twenty-six, right?"

"Right," I dragged out.

"And you want a job, right?"

"Just spit it out already."

"Why don't you be twenty-six?" She said finally and she had that look, that 'I have a crazy idea' look and that scared me. "Hear me out, you tell them you're twenty-six and they hire you. Boom, you have a job!"

"And who in their right mind is going to actually believe them when I lie about my age?"

"Anyone would! I told you already, you haven't aged since college. And you already proved that others could think that with Dominic. All you need is a little hair change maybe, definitely outfit change but that's easy!"

"You are crazy, you know that?" I said trying to laugh off the outrageous suggestion.

"No, actually I'm a genius! Listen, you tell a little white lie, change your date of birth and change your college graduation year. You need a job, and you told me yourself that that is near impossible these days. What could go wrong?"

As much as I hated to admit it, Rachel was on to something. Big deal, I change my birthday, my resume and experience stay the same. Why shouldn't I get the job I'm more than qualified for? What could possibly go wrong?

"Oh, what the hell. Let's do it!"