So, this is a little one-shot song-fic about Brittana. The song is Miserable At Best- by Mayday Parade, and I was listening to it in the car today on the way home from school, and this was born.
I got a message telling me to get rid of the lyrics, so, if you want to know the song, i guess you can look up the lyrics, but the rest of the story still reflects the song.
Sorry for that, but i guess rules are rules.
Stupid rules though, since i've read many songfics like this before..
Enjoy :)
Santana looked out at the window in her New York City apartment. She didn't understand. This was New York. This was everything she ever thought she wanted in her life. She was on her own, independent from her parents, living a life in a big city. There were bright lights, tall buildings, and swarms of people. It was a city of art, music, theatre, cultures and life. It was everything Santana always wanted in her life, but she couldn't ignore the hole she felt in her gut. A hole that could only be filled with bubbly blue eyes and shining gold hair.
From the moment she got that phone call from Tina, Santana's mind has been racing. Bram. Those four letters were all it took to make Santana drop the phone from her hand, letting it land with a thud against the red shag carpet on her bedroom floor. She stood, hand still outstretched as thoughts flew through her mind, one after another trying to make sense of the word.
Bram. She knew what it signified. Santana wasn't so stupid that she couldn't put two-and-two together, but it didn't mean that she was going to be so willing to admit it.
She tried to push the thoughts away from her mind for as long as she could, but the moment she stepped foot into that high school, all because of that stupid wedding that didn't even happen, Santana's mind became clouded with a blonde duo of tooth-rotting smiles.
Every night thereafter, Santana would lie in bed, thinking about how hundreds of miles away from her, her blue-eyed beauty wasn't alone. Instead, it was Santana left in a cold bed.
She should never have done it. She was so stupid to think that distance would ruin their relationship. Santana heard time and time again that long distance relationships were "hard", but when was her relationship with Brittany ever easy?
It was star-crossed lovers in closed-minded Lima, Ohio. The bubbly blonde with the sweet heart smile and the cold-hearted bitch from the wrong side of the tracks. The cheerleaders. The popular girls. The school sluts.
Their relationship shouldn't have worked, because they had so much going against them, but Santana never doubted the possibility for a moment. Why?
Because as long as she had Brittany by her side, everything seemed possible.
So why was the idea of distance so threatening to her? Santana had always known that she would never be the same without Brittany, but she was so afraid of hurting the blonde that she acted irrationally and instead hurt them both.
Santana was still alive, but she didn't feel like she was really living without the milky white hand grasped in her own tanned caramel skin.
Brittany was her soul mate. Brittany was her everything. Santana was willing to give Brittany her world, which is exactly why she threw things away. She thought it was for the better, but she was wrong.
Instead of video-chatting with the love of her life, Santana stayed home mostly. She read books, caught up on school work, and eventually managed to make friends with Kurt and Rachel, and together the three of them watched musicals, a mess of tangled limbs wrapped in a blanket on the couch.
When Santana had enough of being at home, she found herself amongst crowds of people enjoying the New York night life. Santana has had a fake ID for as long as she remembered, and now she used it to forget. She drank the night away, trying to push the feelings away, finding another body on the dance floor whose hips she can place her hands on. Another girl whose body swayed to the music, heart pulsating in her chest as Santana's vision was clouded with the alcohol and bright lights spinning before her.
But even in her intoxicated state, Santana saw bubbly blue eyes and long golden hair. Everywhere she turned, she thought she saw Brittany.
Santana drank more.
Everything Santana ever wanted in life involved having Brittany by her side. When she wanted head-cheerleader, Brittany was her partner in crime. When she wanted a solo in the Glee Club, she spent hours with Brittany picking a song and perfecting it. In Santana's mind, they'd win prom queen and king. They'd apply to colleges together. They'd be cheerleaders on the same college team. They'd stay up late studying together. They'd graduate hand-in-hand. They'd move in together. They'd get married. They'd adopt and start a family together.
But without Brittany, these things don't exist anymore, and Santana was lost.
Santana wakes up in the middle of the night to a tear stained pillow cold against her cheek. She gets up and wraps her frail body in a red satin bath robe and walked out to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of red wine.
She had enough of Rachel expressing worry over the Latina. Santana's days were filled with sympathetic, yet judgmental glances and casual comments about how Santana was dwindling away before their eyes. Santana had always been very thin, but now she was verging on skeletal.
She wasn't intentionally starving herself, but she simply didn't care enough to eat. She lived off liquids, meaning coffee and alcohol. There was nothing more she felt like she needed. But she saw the difference. She saw how her implants appeared unnatural against her defined ribs. She saw how her black hair lost some of its natural shine. How her tanned skin didn't glow quite as much, and how there were dark circles under her eyes that she needed to hide with layers of foundation every morning. She saw how the sparkle in her eyes was gone.
Santana took her glass of red wine and stepped out onto the balcony, barely shivering against the frigid March air as it whipped her hair across her face and picked up the hem of the robe like invisible dancing fingers.
But Santana ignored the cold, and instead looked up at the sky. In the city, she couldn't see the stars, but if Santana imagined hard enough, she could still picture what the thousands of constellations looked like from the dozens of nights spent laying on her back with Brittany on the grass in the blonde's back yard.
Sometimes, she would imagine that maybe, just maybe, Brittany was looking up at the same sky, and maybe she was thinking of the same memories.
Brittany had gone up to New Haven for a weekend to visit Quinn, and the two of them decided to stop down in New York for a surprise visit.
Santana's heart stopped when she saw the blonde standing in the living room. Brittany's eyes met hers, and Santana felt like she melted. Her feet numbly moved her shocked body forward. She saw Brittany's eyes unabashedly scanning her body, and for the first time in a long time, Santana felt self-conscious. She saw the pitying look Brittany was giving her, seeing just how ruined Santana was. The confident HBIC wasn't there anymore. Instead, it was just a shell of the girl that remained, left broken and tattered while an empty-heart resided in it.
They stayed for only a day, but it was like fresh wounds were being ripped open and forced to bleed in the harsh New York air.
That night, long after her love left, Santana sat in her bed with her knees brought to her chest, sobbing.
She had spent the entire day with words and apologies resting on her tongue, but nothing was said. She and Brittany exchanged no more than formalities, a few uncomfortable laughs, and knowing glances.
Santana knew she made a mistake the moment she let Brittany go, and she knew that their love would never be the same.
And Santana wasn't ready to move on.
She didn't feel like she could go on without her love in her arms.
The story isn't quite the same without the lyrics, but it'll have to do.
Reviews make me happy :)
-AlwaysAndForeverAfter