A/N: Hey guys! So basically, this idea popped into my head while watching Season 2 of Glee (I arrived very late to this fandom...), and because I ship Britanna so hard, I wanted to try writing them!
A couple notes, before we get into the actual story:
1. I tried to keep the timeline straight, and in doing so, selected songs that would have been released around the time the episode they correspond to came out.
2. Some newer songs are in there as well, but they are inserted as originals written by the Glee cast.
3. This basically stays mostly canon up until late Season 2, around which time it begins to deviate from canon plot.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!
- RytaIndomina (Ryta)
Chapter 1: We Wear the Mask
Summary: The stage is set; the characters are introduced. And the mysterious Santana Lopez makes her first appearance.
Tell me what you want to hear
Something that will light those ears
Sick of all the insincere
So I'm gonna give all my secrets away
This time don't need another perfect lie
Don't care if critics ever jump in line
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
- from "Secrets" by OneRepublic
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Santana groaned internally as she watched the seconds pass by. Mr. Schuester was terrible at Spanish, and every minute spent in his class was a complete waste. She wasn't even sure why they made her attend; she was fluent in the language, so there was really no point in her being there. If attendance and participation wasn't such a large part of her grade, she would skip the class altogether. After all, she never studied for it. She didn't even take notes. All she did was space out, raise her hand once in a while to answer a question in a bored tone, and get perfect scores on tests and projects.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
She sighed audibly, sitting back in her chair and glancing around at her class. Quinn, who was captain of the Cheerios and one of her friends, was diligently scribbling away on a piece of lined paper, looking every inch the model student. Her boyfriend Finn sat next to her. He seemed very confused. Karofsky and Azimio were in the back of the room, snickering. They were probably deciding who they were going to pick on next.
Puck, the resident badass and player of the school, was actually attending class for once. He was staring off into space, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the desk.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Her best friend Brittany was sitting next to her. She didn't seem to be paying much attention either; she was fiddling with a crayon in her lap, and her blue eyes were focused on the desk in front of her. She was frowning slightly, as if she was trying to figure something out. Santana wondered what it was.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Somehow sensing her gaze, Brittany looked up, and smiled at her. She had a beautiful smile, bright and innocent. It was the kind of smile that could light up an entire room, and every single time Santana saw it, everything negative seemed to melt away.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
She smiled back at the blonde. The two girls just stared at each other for a couple seconds. They did this quite often; sometimes they were having a silent conversation, other times they were getting lost in each other's eyes. Right now, it was the latter. Brittany's eyes were very expressive, and Santana could look into them for ages.
The moment broke when the bell rang.
Brrrrrrrring!
Both girls startled in surprise. The level of noise in the room rose to a clamor as everybody began to pack up around them. Santana grabbed her things and walked out of the classroom, her best friend falling into step to her right. They wandered leisurely through the school, not having a class to rush to. It was their free period, after all.
"That class is so boring, San!" Brittany complained as they walked down the hallway, Cheerios uniforms swishing around their hips. Santana laughed, reaching out with her right hand to link pinkies with the blonde.
"I know, Britt. I'll catch you up on it later." she promised. They arrived at their lockers, where they found Puck waiting for them.
"What do you want, Puckerman?" Santana asked. She was all too aware that the boy was well known for being a player, and that title didn't refer to his being on the football team.
"Well, Lopez, I was thinking that I could take you out on a date. I'll meet you here after school, and we can go to Breadstix." Puck replied. Santana raised an eyebrow.
"A date? Puckerman, you don't date." she pointed out. Puck shrugged.
"Now I do. You're one of the most popular girls in this school, only topped by Quinn. I think you're worth taking out on a date." the football player said. The Latina rolled her eyes and glanced over at Brittany. The blonde quirked her lips in amusement.
"So basically, if Quinn wasn't taken, you'd ask her out instead of me. Good to know." A strange look passed over Puck's face at her words, but it quickly disappeared. He sighed.
"Look. You've got a fiery personality, and you're not afraid to speak your mind. I admire that." he admitted. She could tell that he truly meant what he said. A small smile appeared on Santana's face.
"Puckerman, if you wanted to be friends with me, you could have just asked. I wouldn't have turned you down." She savored the surprised look on his face for a couple of seconds before speaking again.
"Here's the deal. I'll go with you to Breadstix, but only as your friend. I'm not romantically interested in you, and I have a feeling that you aren't either. I'm fine with pretending that we're dating, but you'd better act like you're committed to our relationship. I will not have my reputation dragged down by you sleeping around while "dating" me. Clear?" she proposed. She knew that Puck had a secret, and it had something to do with Quinn. She hadn't missed the look on his face when she'd mentioned the idea of him asking the Head Cheerio out. Whatever he was hiding was important. And she wanted to know what it was.
"Crystal clear, Lopez." the football player responded, a wide smile on his face. His eyebrows scrunched together suddenly as something occurred to him.
"Wait, hold on. Please tell me that you don't really buy into the Celibacy Club crap." he said. Santana rolled her eyes again, and looked towards Brittany, whose eyes were practically lit up with silent laughter. She didn't find the situation that funny, but she couldn't really blame her best friend. At this age, all of the boys were controlled by their hormones. Luckily for Puck, she didn't mind having a little fun. Although, she'd never really understood what all the buzz was about. It had never been particularly mind-blowing in her experience. But then again, maybe she hadn't found the right guy yet.
Well, she had another suspicion as to why that was, but she didn't really want to think about that possibility.
"Don't worry. I only go to Celibacy Club because Britt-Britt and Quinn are there." she reassured. Puck looked relieved.
"Great. I'll see you after school, babe." he announced loudly, and Santana could feel several pairs of eyes turn towards them in interest.
"Looking forward to it, Puckerman." she responded in a lightly flirtatious tone. Puck winked at her, and she blew him a kiss. She smirked at his back as he strode off, brimming with confidence. Once he was gone, she turned back to her locker.
"San, you're a really good actor." Brittany commented quietly, and Santana smiled.
"Thanks, Britt." she said, putting away her things. She closed her locker, and held her right pinky out towards her best friend.
"Shall we go to the library? We can catch you up on Spanish there." she suggested. Brittany beamed, wrapping her left pinky around Santana's.
"Lead the way." she chirped. And so they started down the hallway, stepping in sync as they always did, with their linked hands swinging freely between them.
The sound of laughing broke through the music playing loudly in her ears. Santana took out her earbud (the other one was in Brittany's ear) and glared at anyone who dared to look over at them with a mocking glint in their eyes. Nobody was going tease Brittany about learning on her watch.
Brittany was actually really smart. It was just extremely hard for her to focus, and words tended to get mixed around in her head a lot. On top of that, the blonde tended to say whatever popped into her head at the most random of times, causing many people to think that she was stupid. But Santana knew that she wasn't.
When she first became best friends with Brittany, the blonde's parents had told her that Brittany had been diagnosed with severe ADHD at a young age. It hadn't bothered the Latina in the slightest. Sure, her new best friend was really energetic and impulsive. And yeah, sometimes, Brittany couldn't concentrate. But Santana had quickly figured out how to stop her friend from running off or making rash decisions, and would make sure that she was paying attention in the classes they shared.
Then, about two months into freshman year, the incident happened. And Santana spent every day afterwards blaming herself, because it was her fault that Brittany was injured that day.
Santana had never had a normal life. When she was five years old, her parents came home, and brought a group of rather intimidating men with them. One man, who introduced himself as Tony Costello, told her that he would make sure that the mention of her name struck terror into people's hearts. Santana, being a little girl growing up in the rough neighborhood of Lima Heights Adjacent, loved the idea.
As it turned out, Tony Costello was a crime lord. And at five years old, Santana had become the newest member of his empire. Costello had made her into a pawn. Her parents were very good surgeons, and Tony needed them to patch his people up without being worried that they would go to the police. As long as he had control over Santana, her parents would do whatever Tony told them to. So, at five years old, Santana had watched as her parents packed their bags, and got into a black van. She hadn't seen them since.
Costello had moved in two members of his crime empire, a man and a woman who pretended to be Santana's parents. They signed her up for martial arts and acting classes. They taught her how to drive, pickpocket, and use weapons such as knives and guns. They sent her to school and told her to get good grades and make a lot of friends, because nobody would expect the smart social butterfly to be a gang member. They encouraged her to pick up different extracurriculars, with the hopes that she would pick up some useful skills. From an outsider's point of view, they were good parents trying to mold their daughter into the best possible version of herself.
That was never their intention.
To be completely honest, Santana had no idea what the actual names of the man and woman living in her house were. She just called them Mami and Papi, as they had told her to, and tried not to wince whenever they introduced themselves to people using her the names of her parents. If she didn't do everything they asked, she would pay for it in cuts and bruises, which were well-placed and inflicted in a way that wouldn't scar. And if her actual parents did something Costello didn't like, Santana would pay for that, too.
When Santana was only 12 years old, Costello sent her on her first job.
4 years ago...
Santana was nervous. Very, very nervous. But she kept her face blank as Costello inspected her from where he stood with his arms crossed.
"Could I trust you with... yes, I think you'll be able to handle it." he mused. Santana stayed silent. Tony smirked.
"Your first job will be to commit an armed robbery of the piano store owned by Al Motta. It's been rather successful recently." he announced.
"T-that's in the m-middle of the m-mall." Santana stammered. The man shrugged.
"Not my problem. I want it done." he commanded. She nodded weakly. Tony handed her a briefcase.
"This is for you. I think you'll find that what's inside will be quite useful." he explained. She nodded again, and Costello patted her on the head.
"Good girl. I hope to see you soon." he said. The crime lord then walked out of the house. Santana blew out a shaky breath before opening the briefcase. Inside, she found a pair of knives that she could strap to her hip, two small pistols with holsters, several cartridges of bullets, a pair of black fingerless gloves with metal knuckles, a red bandana, and a pair of black sunglass goggles with reflective red lenses.
She picked up the latter, and inhaled deeply. Then, she went to her room and changed into a pair of black jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket. She pulled on a pair of combat boots and the fingerless gloves. She strapped her new knives to her side, concealing them just out of sight under her shirt. She tucked the pistols into the insides of her leather jacket, slipping two extra cartridges into her pocket just in case she needed them. She emptied her school backpack, which was a solid black color, and placed her mask and goggles inside. She also put in a stack of cash, a Swiss Army knife, and a matchbox. On her way out of the room, she grabbed a pair of normal black sunglasses and slipped them over her eyes.
She hopped on her red bicycle, and pedaled over to the mall. It wasn't very far, only being about two miles from her house. Once she'd arrived, she went around to an isolated area of the building, and hid her bike there.
About ten minutes later, she was standing in front of Motta's Pianos, planning her first serious criminal activity. She didn't really want to do it, but she had no choice. Swallowing heavily, she surveyed her surroundings, coming up with possible strategies. Finally, she decided on a tactic, and mentally prepared herself to carry it out.
She went to a different section of the mall, and bought a bottle of acetone, and a bag of cotton balls. She soaked several cotton balls in the alcohol, and went back to the piano store. There was a large piano in the very front; she walked over to it. She went into her bag, and pulled out the matchbox, goggles, and bandanna. The Latina swapped out her sunglasses for the goggles. Then, she surreptiously coated the piano keys with the nail polish remover, and left the soaked cotton balls in a pile on top of the lid. She then poured the acetone on the ground in a line. A clerk frowned and started to make his way over.
Santana struck a match and set the piano on fire. Screams filled the air as people panicked. The flames spread across the line of acetone she'd poured on the ground, creating a wall of fire. But she knew it wouldn't last long. She had to act fast. She took the opportunity to tie the bandana around her face. Then, she hit a button she'd noticed earlier; the one that lowered a metal gate and closed off the store.
The fire had done its job extraordinarily; people were fleeing from the mall, paying no attention to the piano store that had been locked down. The sprinklers kicked in, and the flames began to die down, but Santana had gotten what she wanted: a distraction, and a way to isolate her victims from the rest of the world.
She pulled out her guns and stalked towards the terrified customers.
"This is a stick up. Cashier, I want you to open that register and put all of the money in this bag. Customers, I want you to do the same with your valuables." she ordered in a quiet voice with a hint of a Spanish accent, throwing her backpack at their feet.
The terrified people did as she said, taking off their watches and necklaces, handing over their phones and emptying their wallets. She gestured for them to stand against the wall. The cashier finished filling her bag with cash, and she holstered a pistol, keeping the other one raised as she walked forward and snatched the backpack from his hands. He looked terrified, and Santana felt guilty. None of these people deserved to have their day ruined like this. But she needed to survive, and she wouldn't live for very long if she didn't do as Tony said. She sighed, and walked over to the person who looked the richest; a man in a really nice suit.
"Car keys. Oh, and tell me what it looks like." she directed, holding a hand out for the item. He forked them over, and she nodded approvingly.
"It's a red Maserati." he grumbled. She smiled.
"I'd suggest not trying to get this one back. You won't like the consequences." she threatened, and then went and stood on one of the pianos, looking up at an air vent. She pried the vent open, and hoisted herself up into the gap.
She crawled through the vent system until she found one that led to outside of the mall, and kicked the grate off. She could see fire trucks parked in front of the mall, and the air was filled with the wailing of police cruisers. She switched her bandana and goggles out for her sunglasses, grabbed her bike, and casually walked over to the flashy red car that the rich man described. She unlocked the car, put the bike in the trunk, and hopped in the driver's seat. She pulled out of the parking lot, and drove out of the neighborhood, taking the car to Costello's house. It was the nicest house in Lima Heights Adjacent; a three story house behind an iron gate. It also had the best security. The house was equipped with an extremely expensive security system, and actually had security guards. In the backyard, she knew Tony had several vicious attack dogs, who would take care of any intruders trying to get in that way. And then, of course, there was Tony himself, who was very good with a gun.
She drove up to the gate, and buzzed in.
"Piano delivery for Mr. Costello." she said into the intercom. Seconds later, the gate slowly started to slide open. She guided the car up the driveway, and parked it directly in front of the porch. Santana hopped out of the car just as the front door opened to reveal Tony.
The crime lord seemed to be speechless, and the Latina felt a small amount of satisfaction. Tony circled the car, inspecting it from every angle. Then, he gestured for Santana to go inside the house.
She did as she was commanded, and found her "parents" and several other members of Costello's empire sitting in the living room. Tony followed her in, shutting the door.
"What else did you get?" he asked, and she unslung her bag from her shoulders. Tony took the backpack, and opened it. His eyebrows shot up, and he dumped the contents of the backpack on a table.
"This was the first job I gave you, and not only did you bring me what I asked for, but you also brought me extra cash, jewelry, phones, and a sports car." he chuckled admiringly. He walked over to the TV, and turned it on. The news came on, with the headline MALL EVACUATED AFTER FIRE.
"We're still unsure of what exactly sparked the fire; most of the security cameras suffered water damage, and the few that were unaffected didn't show us anything. We're going to send some people into the mall soon, and hopefully, we can figure this out." A fireman said. Tony laughed louder.
"And they haven't even figured out that you robbed a store yet. Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we have a promising new member. I officially welcome you to the fold, Diabla." Santana's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Diabla?" she wondered. Diabla was her middle name, but she didn't see why he was using it.
"We can't have any reputation you gain be associated with your public persona, now can we? You'd be arrested and sent off to juvenile detention. So from now on, whenever you are doing something related to the business, you will go by the name Diabla." Costello explained.
"So, people will know me as a Latina devil." she deadpanned. A smile grew on the crime lord's face.
"Exactly. And they will fear you."
Tony had been right. Over the past four years, Diabla had become a name that everybody knew and feared due to her high-profile crimes and daring escapes. There was no telling when she'd appear, and where she'd strike next. Nobody had ever died as a result of her actions, but she had to make up for the lack of bodies with physical brutality. Otherwise, Tony would get suspicious. And when the crime lord got suspicious, he'd send her a warning.
She'd only ever gotten one warning before. She promised herself that she'd never get another one.
"Wait up!" Brittany protested. Santana pouted, but slowed her pace. Brittany finally caught up to her, breathing heavily.
"How do you run so fast? I have longer legs than you!" she complained. Santana smiled widely.
"I go for a jog every morning, remember? And I was on track for a while. " she replied.
"Oh, that makes sense now." the blonde commented as they turned a corner. Suddenly, Santana noticed a car roaring down the road towards them. Her eyes widened as she recognized the driver. It was Costello's right hand man, Frank, and there was a dangerous glint in his eye. The car swerved off the street, and onto the pavement. Santana shoved Brittany back around the corner just as Frank jerked the wheel to the side. The back end of the car swung around and clipped Santana's side, sending her flying across the street. Brittany screamed in horror.
"San!" she yelled, and went to hurry to her friend's side. But Frank wasn't done yet. He brought the car around to face Santana, knocking a mailbox into the air in the process. It slammed into Brittany's head, and she collapsed, unconscious.
"Britt!" Santana called, but the blonde didn't move. The car accelerated towards her, and Santana forced herself to roll out of the way. Just before the car reached where she had just been, it screeched to a halt. Frank rolled down the window. Santana glared up at him, blood and tears running down her face.
"What the hell was this for, huh?" she demanded.
"Message from Costello. Don't slack off." he replied, and then drove away. She cursed at him as the car disappeared down the road. Then, she crawled over to Brittany. It was a slow process. Her side was practically on fire, and her back throbbed from the harsh impact with the ground. One of her shoulders was dislocated due to the car's impact. The other one was probably fractured; she'd landed on it awkwardly. Her left leg wasn't cooperating with her. White hot pain flared through it every single time she tried to move. She suspected that it was probably injured in some way. And to top everything off, there was a cut on her forehead.
She finally reached her best friend, who was lying face down on the ground.
"Britt?" She turned the blonde over, and gasped.
"Oh my god." The left side of the blonde's head was bleeding heavily. She pulled off her jacket and pressed it to her head, trying to staunch the bleeding. Then, she dug her phone out of her pocket and dialed 911 with shaking fingers.
"911, what's your emergency?" the operator asked.
"Uh, hi. My friend and I were victims of a hit and run just now. We're both heavily injured, and we need an ambulance." Santana said as calmly as she could. Her voice trembled slightly.
"Okay, where are you?"
"We're at the intersection of Central Avenue and High Street."
"Alright, the ambulance will arrive there as soon as possible. Can you detail your injuries?"
"My friend has a severe head wound to the left side of her head. It's bleeding heavily. I've got my jacket pressed to the wound to try and stop the bleeding, but I think that her skull might be fractured, so I'm hesitant to press too hard. I've also pulled her onto my lap so that her head and shoulders are slightly elevated. She's unconscious."
"What about your own injuries? "
"One arm is definitely dislocated, the other one might be fractured. I think I might have broken some ribs. My hip and back are also throbbing painfully. Oh, and my left leg isn't very happy either." The operator was silent for a minute as they took that information in.
"You don't sound like you're in pain." they finally responded carefully. Santana snorted.
"Trust me, I am. It's just that my best friend's life seems more important than my comfort right now." she pointed out. She heard the faint sound of a siren, and sighed in relief.
"Oh thank God." she breathed.
"I wish you and your friend good luck." the operator said.
"Thank you." she replied earnestly.
"You're welcome." The call was cut, and Santana turned her attention back to her best friend. She brushed some stray hairs out of the blonde's face, lightly grazing her fingers across her forehead.
"I'm so sorry, Brittany. This is all my fault." she whispered. The wailing of the sirens was closer now. She only had to wait another minute before police cars and an ambulance arrived on the scene. The paramedics rushed over to her and Brittany, loading the latter onto a stretcher and putting her into the ambulance. Upon realizing that she was heavily injured as well, they put her on a stretcher as well, putting her next to her best friend in the emergency vehicle. Santana tried to stay awake, but the adrenaline was fading, and the pain and exhaustion from her injuries was settling in. She closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
As it turned out, Brittany's head injury was severe enough for her to develop aphasia. Words would get mixed up in her head a lot, and combined with her lack of a filter from the ADHD, she became known at school as a spacey dumb blonde. No one had ever found out about the accident, because there was no evidence to be found. Just a scene of destruction and two very injured girls. Technically, Santana had gotten more physical injuries, but hers healed. Brittany's injuries wouldn't.
No matter how many times the Pierce family told her that it wasn't her fault, the Latina felt directly responsible for Brittany's condition. And she hated it. The worst part of it was the fact that Mr. Pierce was the head detective of the Lima Police Department. She'd watched him spend so much time trying to figure out who had done it, and although she knew exactly who it was, she had to keep her mouth shut. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce acted more like parents to her than her fake ones did, and she had to lie to them about such a big thing.
So as they sat in the library going over the day's Spanish lesson, Santana was well aware of the condescending glances that they were receiving. It didn't matter to the rest of the school that Brittany could speak fluently in Spanish when she wasn't thinking about it too much (She'd picked it up from Santana, and in return, Santana had learned Dutch). All that mattered to them was that Brittany struggled when they saw her. She was mentally making a list of names to go after later. She didn't want to waste their free period, and she knew that it made Brittany feel worse when she saw the Latina defend her in public. It always made Brittany feel self-conscious, and Santana didn't want that.
But Santana's guilt was so great over the incident that if Brittany had had any other friends who understood her as well as she did, she would have cut her ties with the blonde. Sure, she needed Brittany. Her friendship was the only bright spot in a very dark life. But she would be willing to sacrifice that for her best friend. She didn't want her best friend to be hurt again. Anyone who got close to her was a target. That's why Santana had developed such an abrasive personality. If no one came too close, then no one would get hurt. Quinn would have been a problem, if the head cheerleader wasn't so concerned with her reputation.
While they were publically known as the Unholy Trinity, Quinn wasn't as close to Brittany and Santana as their public friendship suggested. They'd hang out at times, yes, but they weren't the best of friends. Quinn spent so much time constructing the facade of McKinley's most popular girl that she simply wasn't available. She'd always be doing homework, or being a model Christian girl in public, or on a date with Finn, or doing something Cheerios related for Sue.
Santana privately thought that she would like the real Quinn. Not school-Quinn, but Quinn with all her masks down. The true Quinn. But she'd rarely seen that Quinn, so she couldn't be sure. And Santana wasn't sure if there was anybody who had actually seen the real Santana Lopez. She honestly had no idea who that was. Brittany might have come very, very close to finding her, though. She felt the most relaxed when she was with her, although she knew she was still hiding a large part of her from her best friend.
The Latina sighed internally, and kept going over the Spanish with Brittany. She knew that her best friend knew the material already, but whenever the blonde got stressed or felt self-conscious, she couldn't remember it. In fact, she was sure that Brittany would ace every class if she didn't feel so pressured all the time. Santana had tested her theory before. She'd taken some of Brittany's tests, and given her the problems while they were hanging out in the blonde's bedroom. She'd done amazingly then. She just couldn't perform under pressure.
So Santana found it completely unfair that Brittany had a low grade point average. Their grades were completely based off of their test scores, and Brittany's mind always blanked out or wandered during tests. If Brittany was just put into a room by herself, and not given a specific time limit, she'd be able to finish tests in the same amount of time as everybody else. And she'd make amazing grades. If the teachers gave Brittany a chance to answer questions and didn't seem so condescending whenever they talked to her, Brittany could show everyone that she was actually a genius. And if people would stop being so goddamn judging of things that they didn't fully understand, then Brittany would thrive. Santana wanted to make that happen for the blonde. She felt that the best place to start was to make more friends, and then, once she was certain that those friends could be trusted, they could help her. They could stand up for her as well. The Latina was tired of being the only person who stood up for what was right.
Quinn's voice rang out suddenly, startling her out of her thoughts.
"The Glee club is starting up again. And Mr. Schuester's in charge of it." the head cheerleader announced. Santana raised an eyebrow.
"The Glee club?" she asked, wanting to make sure that she'd heard right.
"Yup." the blonde nodded. Santana glanced over at Brittany in confusion. Her best friend shrugged minutely. Sorry, San, but I don't know anything.
"Um, okay. What does this have to do with us?" she wondered.
"Finn joined. And he got paintballed by the football team." Quinn complained in exasperation. Santana tried not to laugh.
"Finn Hudson. Your boyfriend, Finn Hudson. The quarterback of the McKinley Titans, our school's football team, Finn Hudson. He joined the Glee club?" she repeated, amusement coloring her tone. Quinn scowled.
"It's not funny." she snarled.
"It's kind of funny." Brittany commented. Quinn huffed, and rolled her eyes. The bell rang.
"Come on, we should probably head to class." Santana said. She and Brittany gathered up their things, and flanked Quinn as they strode out of the library. On the way, Brittany stopped to chat with a jock in their grade. Santana paused, about to wait for her best friend, when she noticed Quinn glaring at a pair of people down the hall. She looked closer, and realized that it was Finn and Rachel Berry, an annoying girl in their year who was extremely arrogant.
They walked over to the two.
"Hi, Finn." Quinn said. She glanced over at Rachel.
"RuPaul." she acknowledged.
"Hey." Finn greeted.
"What are you doing talking to her?" Quinn asked innocently.
"Science project–we're partners." Berry replied quickly. Santana rolled her eyes internally. She was obviously lying. It had been a terrible lie, too; Santana was in her science class. Quinn ignored the girl, and turned back to her boyfriend.
"Christ Crusaders tonight at 5, my house." she invited. Finn nodded.
"Sounds great." he agreed. Quinn smiled, and turned to leave. Santana followed, moving over to Brittany, and dragging her away from the jock. They hurried off to class.
Santana walked out of one of her classes, heading straight for the auditorium. She just wanted to be alone for a little while; one of her past crimes had come up during class, and she felt sick to her stomach at the reminder of how terrible a person she was. She sat down at the edge of the stage, and took a small book out of her bag. It was a black leather-bound journal, worn but in fairly good condition considering she used it constantly. It was her songwriting journal.
She'd began writing songs just after her first outing as the criminal Diabla, desperately needing a creative outlet to distract from the stress of her new job. She was pretty proud of the things she had come up with, although she'd never shared her songs with anybody.
She flipped through the pages carefully, stopping at a song she'd written shortly after one of her more brutal jobs, one that had left her with constant nightmares about her victim's terrified face for months. It was entitled "Control".
She closed the book, and started singing. There was no instruments to back her up; her voice was the only sound that rang through the air. It pierced through the silence like an arrow, chasing away the shadows that lay within.
She began in a low tone, pouring as much emotion into the words as possible.
They send me away to find them a fortune
A chest filled with diamonds and gold
The house was awake
With shadows and monsters
The hallways they echoed and groaned
The job that had inspired her to write this had been a retrieval. She'd been sent in to tell the family to hand over the money they owed. And upon learning that they still didn't have it, she'd been expected to teach them a lesson.
I sat alone, in bed 'til the morning
I'm crying, "They're coming for me."
And I tried to hold these secrets inside me
My mind's like a deadly disease
The aftermath was terrible; she'd sent two people to the hospital with borderline life-threatening injuries. The boss had wanted her to kill them, so that's what she had done instead. She was still punished for not following through with his orders completely. She couldn't sleep for a while afterwards, suffering from both nightmares and physical pain. She'd actually wanted to get help, but she knew she couldn't. So, she wallowed in her poisonous thoughts for a while with tears running down her face, yet not a single sound was emitted from her lips. She suffered in silence.
I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones
She felt empty a lot of the time. She knew that she could be cruel, and she knew she hurt people day and night, whether it was with her words, or with her fists. And what excuse did she have? She wanted to live, and she wanted her parents to live, how was that enough? Nevertheless, she wasn't going to die if she could help it. That was the easy way out. No, instead, she'd take whatever she got, because she deserved it.
And all the kids cried out,
"Please stop, you're scaring me."
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
Sometimes she scared herself. There had been a kid in the house, and he was forced to watch her beat up his parents. He'd screamed and cried, and Santana had nearly burst into tears on the spot. Even Diabla wasn't the stone cold criminal that she pretended to be. But she acted like she enjoyed what she did, as if she was Bellatrix Lestrange or someone equally as insane. It sickened her. But she couldn't stop. Not even if someone she cared about asked her to. She was in too deep.
I paced around for hours on empty
I jumped at the slightest of sounds
And I couldn't stand the person inside me
I turned all the mirrors around
She got really depressed sometimes. The days when her "parents" weren't home should have been the days when she felt freer, but instead, she took the opportunity to stop and just feel everything. She would pace back and forth, the faces of all of her victims flashing through her head. Hearing anything would cause her to freeze, not sure whether her "parents" had come back, or whether someone had come to take their revenge on her. Those days, she couldn't even look in the mirror, consumed with too much guilt to face the person she had become.
I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones
And all the kids cried out,
"Please stop, you're scaring me."
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
She was slowly losing control, and that was ironic because she always acted as if she was a person who wanted and had control of her life. The cheerleader Santana Lopez, one of the most popular girls in the school, with a reputation that people simultaneously feared and admired. And the criminal Diabla, the villain that haunted the streets of Lima, who no one was safe from.
I'm well acquainted
With villains that live in my bed
They beg me to write them
So they'll never die when I'm dead
And I've grown familiar
With villains that live in my head
They beg me to write them
So I'll never die when I'm dead
Another reason why she wrote songs was that she wanted to give herself a reminder of the terrible things that she felt sometimes. She didn't know why she wanted to memorize the feeling of her emotional pain. She just did. She sometimes thought that it was part of her guilt. Other times, she didn't know what to think.
I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home
I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones
And all the kids cried out,
"Please stop, you're scaring me."
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
And all the kids cried out,
"Please stop, you're scaring me."
I can't help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?
She finished the song, cutting off the last note, and just sitting on the stage, staring into the empty seats. She heard tentative footsteps behind her, and stiffened. Her brows furrowed in confusion when she heard clapping. She turned, and looked confused at the strawberry-blonde haired man standing behind her.
"Your song was very good." he said simply. Santana just stared, not exactly sure what to say. She was still feeling raw from recalling the emotions behind the song, and she'd never seen this guy before.
"My name is Brad. Bradley Jameson Ellis, but you can just call me Brad. I'm the Glee Club pianist." he introduced himself, stretching out a hand. She took it, shaking it cautiously.
"Santana Lopez." she responded.
"Nice to officially meet you. I hear that you'll be joining the Glee Club. I can see why. You really love singing, don't you." he commented. She shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess. But to be honest, I'm not joining Glee Club for that reason. It's kind of social suicide, you know." she replied.
"Well, if you have a good enough reason, then you can still enjoy it without sacrificing your reputation." Brad responded. He sat down next to her on the edge of the stage.
"You know, it's kind of annoying playing the piano for Glee. The kids always randomly come in and tell me to "hit it". If I didn't walk around the school so much and overhear them talking about it, I'd never know what to play." he complained.
"They've never questioned it?" Santana asked, astonished.
"Nope. Actually, I can literally go anywhere in this school and not be noticed. I've sat through several uncomfortable conversations before, such as breakups and the truth coming to light. I spent an afternoon in a classroom listening to a lecture, and didn't even register on anyone's radar. I think you're the first person to actually talk to me since I started working here." he said dejectedly. Santana awkwardly patted him on the back.
"Well, I'll give you more of a heads up about what songs are going to be sung when I join. Honestly, everybody in this school is a jerk for not talking to you. But I have to say, being that unnoticed can be useful. Although it makes me wonder why you decided to talk to me..." Santana commented.
"Because after hearing you sing that song, I realized that the true you goes as unnoticed as I do. And that's a sad thing. I'm ignored completely. But you are ignored in favor of a fake you. I thought you could use someone to talk to." he responded wisely. Santana smiled sadly at him.
"Thanks, James." she replied.
"James?" he wondered.
"It's your middle name, basically. It's your new nickname. Because Brad is associated with being written off. I think it's time for something new." she explained. A smile spread across Brad's face.
"Then what should I call you?" he questioned.
"Whatever you like." The school bell rang, and she stood up.
"Alright, well, I've got to go to class now. I'll totally stop by and talk to you more often." she said. Brad flashed her a thumbs up.
"Looking forward to it, Santana. I'll figure out a better nickname in the meantime." he responded. Santana laughed, and walked off, waving over her shoulder. Brad saluted in response. Santana chuckled a little. She felt lighter, somehow. It was a nice feeling.
Yay, first chapter done!