"Hey pretty lady."

Santana turned around to meet the man's face. The first thing she noticed was his smug grin. He blew her a kiss, sending the smell of alcohol on his breath her way. It was people like this who disgusted her the most. Judging from the suit he was wearing, she could tell this was one of those men. Deadbeat wife, deadbeat job. It's a shame really, making all this money just to come spend it here. They should be at home with their wives, fixing their problems instead of avoiding them. But who was she to talk? She took a step closer towards the man as she offered him a tempting smile.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Oh you have no idea…" He licked his lips as he allowed his eyes to wander all over the Latina's body, mentally undressing her.

Drunken bastard, she thought to herself though she never made an attempt to show it. Back in the day she would've punched the guy by now, but she's come to the realization that the façade was part of her job.

The man dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a twenty dollar bill. He raised the bill, holding it up in front of her. "How about… a dance?"

She took a moment to scan the bill before she snatched it out of his hand and turned around. "Follow me."

Not wasting any time, the man did as he was told. He followed her into the private room as she motioned for him to take a seat. He sat back, allowing himself to relax as he kept his gaze fixed on the beautiful woman in front of him. She bent down to face him, bringing her hands up to his cheeks.

"Show me what you like," she whispered in his ear.

The man raised his hands to cup her ass, giving it a light squeeze. "So fucking good," he mumbled as he let out a groan in pleasure. It looked like the guy hadn't touched a woman in ages. Instinctively, Santana felt the urge to knee him, knowing it would cause him a fair amount of pain considering the position they were in. Yet she held her composure. She knew the deal.

She got back up and turned her back to him, sensually swaying her hips, granting him a better view of her ass. She allowed him to let his hands trail across her waist. His hands felt cold against her skin, but his touch was surprisingly gentle.

At first, anyway.

With his mouth half-opened he continued to gape at her flawless features. Halfway through the dance he motioned for her sit down on his lap; he wanted more.

Santana nodded, adding a slight smirk. She lowered herself onto his lap, slightly cocking her head to the side to throw the man a luscious look, as if to encourage him.

The man grinned before once again grabbing her ass – a particular bodypart he seemed to have taken a liking to – and started grinding her up against him. She could feel his excitement grow at every move. As the man continued to moan and groan she glanced at the door, picturing herself walking out.

Sometimes, it was as if she wasn't in control of herself. It felt more like she was some kind of bystander, observing someone else's actions. She'd like to think that she's changed for the better since McKinley. She was convinced that she did. And now she couldn't help but think, the real Santana would never do this, she would never reduce herself to a man's fucking fantasy. Unfortunately, nothing less was true. This... pathetic display of the person she never wanted to be, was reality, and it made her heart clench and ache in so many ways. She may not have had her future planned out like everyone else, but this was definitely not how she wanted to end up.

She recognized the near end of the song that was playing and found relief in the fact that it was almost over. She was about to get off of his lap, but the man however, wasn't ready to let go.

"What the fuck?"

As she tried to stand up he grabbed her arm, tightening his grip on her as he felt her pull away. Forcefully he managed to haul her back down onto his lap, and without a warning he hungrily started kissing her down to her neck while she thrashed around, struggling to get out of his grasp.

"I'm not done yet," he breathed out before practically sinking his teeth into her skin, wanting to devour her with more than his eyes.

"The hell you are, you gave me a twenty!" she snapped at him.

Scoffing, he dismissed her comment and raised one hand to the back of her neck to bring her closer and push her into a kiss. She couldn't turn away, the man was simply stronger than her. Their lips crashed together as he jammed his tongue down her throat. Granted, the kiss was far from pleasant, it was sloppy and nearly painful. Finally she somehow managed to detach herself from his lips and decided to do what she's been wanting to do all along. She kneed him the nuts, causing him to cry out in pain.

"Fucking… bitch!" he hissed at her.

"You're an asshole." She gave him an evil glare in response before pacing to the door, wasting no time to call out to one of the bouncers. Within a few seconds, a tall broad man approached.

"Can you get this guy outta here?" She turned around and pointed at the man who was still cursing in pain.

Seeing the damage she's done, she couldn't help but feel slightly content. In some way, she was even grateful for the way the guy acted. At least now, she had an excuse to hurt him. He needed to be taught a lesson, after all.

Santana managed a smile and thanked the bouncer as he barged into the room to drag the drunken man out of the club.

As much as she appreciated the fact that the man got kicked out, her face dropped at the realization that the night was far from over. The thought of sneaking out was certainly tempting. She looked around, seeing at least twenty other men just like the one that she just had kicked out of the club. She was definitely not in the mood to stick around. She made her way over to the dressing room, hoping no one would be there. Luckily the room was empty. She grabbed her bag, taking out her little red dress. She quickly slipped it on and reached for her jacket, but before she could make it outside someone stopped her.

"Lopez, what are you doing back here? Your shift isn't over yet."

She slightly cocked her head to the side so he wouldn't catch her rolling her eyes. "I'm not feeling well. Think I'm gonna head out early."

This caused him to frown. "You don't look sick."

"Well I feel sick." That wasn't a total lie.

She looked him in the eyes, silently pleading him to let her go.

The man kept a straight face. "You know you may be worth a lotta bucks, but I can't afford for you to keep sneaking out like that."

"I'm not – I told you, I don't feel well." Even though the man was right, she couldn't help but start to feel angry. She was just tired of this. All of this. There had to be a better way out. Right?

The man shook his head. "Forget it, you're staying."

"Oh go fuck yourself," she blurted out before taking the time to consider her choice of words. As soon as she said it, she realized it wasn't a very smart move to make. He was her boss, after all.

He clenched his fists tighter but remained in his position. "Don't push me Lopez."

"Or else?" She lifted her eyebrow at him. What the heck, already put one foot in the grave, might as well finish it.

"You'll lose your job. And let me remind you, you don't have a lot of places to go."

"I can do plenty of things, I don't need this job." It was a sheer lie, but in the heat of the moment she refused to give in. Though… Maybe she had enough money to actually do this. To get finally get out. Just maybe.

The man let out a spiteful laugh. "What are you gonna do? Work at the mall for minimum wage? That ain't gonna cover your rent or your debts and you know it."

"I don't care, I'm sick of this!" she yelled out, not bothering to hold back.

"You're making a bad decision," he said with a deadpanned look.

They exchanged one last glare before Santana turned around and started pacing for the exit.

"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back!" he called out to her.

She knew she would be regretting this decision, but she kept going. She left the building and heard the door slam closed behind her.

Shit, what have I done?

One fucking step out that door, and she was already starting to feel stressed. She looked into her bag to find her release. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and then she fumbled her pockets to find the lighter. Once she got a hold of it she raised it to light the cigarette in her mouth, but when she tried to flicker it on she realized it was empty.

"Goddamnit!" she cursed out loud before she threw the empty lighter on the ground.

"Santana?"

No fucking way. She looked up to find a familiar blonde looking at her.

"Quinn."

That's just great. The two haven't exactly been on good terms. The last time she'd seen Quinn was when they slapped each other. Santana knew she'd taken it too far by bringing up Beth, but she wasn't one to apologize. Especially not after that slap, which hurt like hell. But truly, those were petty problems, Santana had learned that by now.

"When I heard you curse I knew it was you. What are you doing here?" Quinn seemed surprised to see the brunette, who wasn't in a rush to answer the question. Quinn kept frowning at her before turning her head to the side, realizing what building the other girl just walked out of. A sly grin appeared on her face.

"The strip club? Really Santana? That's kinda desperate," she teased.

Santana rolled her eyes in response. "Please, there are enough girls begging me to rock their world."

The grin on Quinn's face slowly made room for a more confused expression. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Then why –"

"I was working."

Quinn's face fell.

She wasn't sure what answer to expect, but that definitely wasn't it.

The brunette let out a spiteful laugh. "Guess Rachel was right about me working on a stripper pole."

"Santana, I –"

"Whatever, I just quit anyway," Santana bluntly interrupted.

Quinn shook her head in disbelief. "Why would you even do this in the first place?"

"Not everyone's college material Quinn. Besides, it's none of your business."

"Look I know we haven't been on good terms lately, but –"

"Save it Q," Santana interjected once again. She didn't feel like talking. Not to anyone, and certainly not to Quinn. Little miss perfect. She couldn't help but think back at their last conversations and how Quinn was bragging about how great her college life was. Sure, Quinn had gotten into CU, and maybe Santana was jealous at how Quinn had everything sorted out – unlike herself – but did she really have to make such an effort to rub it in? Seeing Quinn only reminded her of all the things she didn't have, and she wasn't going take any more of it.

"I'm out of here." Santana picked up her bag and walked away, leaving a confused and conflicted Quinn behind.

"Santana!" Quinn called out one last time, but to no avail. Santana had already disappeared, so sudden it made Quinn doubt if Santana was even really here at all.

Santana kept walking. The streets were fairly quiet, something she definitely didn't mind. She just wanted to get away from it all, so she increased her pace.

As if it would change anything. As if she could just runaway. How the hell did she get here? A few months ago, she was in college. Maybe she wasn't completely happy, but right now, she'd take it all back in a heartbeat. For a moment she stopped her movement, leaning herself against the wall. She slid down with her head in her hands. Shit. The more time passed, the more she realized, quitting her job was a stupid mistake. She was being naïve, and furthermore, she was being selfish. Goddammit Lopez, couldn't you just shut your mouth for once? She cursed her temper. She wasn't sure if she was angry, or sad, or maybe both. She just wanted to go home and curl up in a ball.

She slowly got back up and decided to continue walking, but before she could make it out the street she suddenly felt someone grabbing her from behind, pulling her into an alleyway. She felt the man's cold hands covering her mouth. As if it were instinct, she bit him.

"Fuck!" The man hissed while quickly pulling away, yet keeping a firm grip on her with his other hand.

The man's voice sounded familiar. You've got to be kidding me. It was the drunken bastard from before. What a fucking day.

"Let me go you asshole!" she yelled as she tried to get out of his hold. She managed to flail one arm around, incidentally smacking him in the face.

"You're a real bitch you know that!" Even though he barely flinched at the contact she obviously had set him off. He forcefully used his elbow to push her up against the wall, knocking out the breath of her.

"My life – is a fucking mess!" He continued to push his elbow further into her ribs, making sure she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Santana knew this was going to leave some bruises in the morning. If nothing worse.

"You know, I didn't ask for much," the man continued. "I just wanted to have a little fun with you, but you wouldn't even let me have that." The expression in his face turned darker as anger started overcome him. She knew this was going to hurt. He grabbed her shoulders and sent her flying, her cheeks scraping the asphalt as she crashed onto the cold hard ground.

Before she could cry out in pain the man kicked her to the face, successfully silencing her. Her world was spinning by now, the man spoke but she could barely manage to make out the words.

He knelt down beside her before speaking again, as if to make sure the words would reach her. "You are… a piece of trash."

She smelled the familiar stench of alcohol from earlier that night. She managed to open her eyes just a little, only to find him smirking at her. If she could, she'd smack that smirk off his face. But at this moment it was hard to even move at all. The man was about to throw another punch. Santana mentally braced herself for the impact, but it never came.

A different voice suddenly chimed in. "Hey! What are you doing? Get off of her!"

Santana opened her eyes again just to catch the man's fist, lingering mid-air. Suddenly the angry expression on the his face was replaced with fear. Reality sank in. No one could see what he had done. After all, he'd have to return to his job tomorrow, suit and tie, perfect records and everything. And he sure as hell wasn't going to let this bitch ruin the only thing he still had going for him. He quickly got up and decided to make a run for it, leaving a dazed Santana behind on the ground.

She slowly started to regain some more of her consciousness. She tried to push herself off the ground, but she immediately fell back down, wincing at the pain. "Fuck."

"Santana, oh my god!"

Santana slowly looked up to see that it was Quinn. The blonde quickly kneeled beside her, already attempting to examine the damage.

"Quinn..?"

"Yeah it's me… Santana what… what happened?"

Before she could answer the question Quinn interrupted her with a gasp. "God you're bleeding, we need to get you to a hospital!"

Santana tried to get up once more; with luck this time. She managed to stand up. "No hospital, it's fine – I'm fine."

"The hell you are, look at you!" Quinn yelled out.

A bruise already started forming on Santana's cheekbone. She raised her hand to feel her burning cheek, flinching at the touch. As she pulled back her hand, a sticky red liquid was covering the tips of her fingers.

She let out a shaky breath before composing herself yet again. "It's just a scratch."

Quinn however, refused to let Santana make light of the situation. "You need to go to the hospital," she repeated.

"I'm not going to the damn hospital Q. It's not that bad," Santana spoke with more agitation.

"If you're not going to the hospital, then you're coming home with me."

This caused Santana to frown. "What?"

"We need to take care of the bleeding and clean up the wound, it might get infected."

The two stared at each other a little while longer before Santana decided to give in. Quinn was obviously not going to let this go, and Santana was in no condition to argue or run off as she'd like to.

"Fine."

Song / Chapter Title: L.E.S. Artistes by Santigold