Prologue:
"You're not the only one who's got their own dreams you know."
She stared at her, how could she have come back and expected it to be all the same?
"And you are most definitely not the only one who's had their fucking heart broken."
It had been months and she had received no word from the starlet. Was that how it worked? They just didn't exist for a few months, (perhaps in some cases, years) and when they got back the whole world revolved around them again?
"You're my best friend…"
"No. I was Rachel's best friend; the one who wore argyle and hairbands, who screamed every time she saw Barbra Streisand on TV, who…who flinched when she saw a slushie. I loved her like my sister but you? No."
She shook her head as she watched her face fall.
"I…I don't even know who you are anymore."
Santana shut the door in an attempt to lock out the hurt but it did nothing. She sank to the floor and clutched her chest, as if she could hold what was left of her heart together. On the other side of the door she could almost feel Rachel doing the exact same thing.