I had this idea in mind for a Pezberry story, and I just had to write it. Reading on this site made me fall in love with the pairing so hopefully you read this and feel the same. I know I have other stories, but fear not they shall be updated :)
All criticism appreciated
Enjoy
There she was again. That star that I would never admit had talent. She stood in her bedroom singing another Broadway hit; her tiny frame projecting a larger than life voice. If you haven't guessed who I'm talking about already, well you're stupid. I couldn't really hear her over the raucous laughter beside me courtesy of Quinn and Brittany. Of course I joined in with a cackle of my own, after a while you can have an absolutely faultless fake laugh, it comes with practise.
"Can you two shut the hell up? I want hear her bomb the end note." I said sharply.
Which was code for: "Can you two shut the hell up? I want to hear her sing this song to perfection." Even I wasn't above appreciating her, in my mind of course... that sounds pervy.
The video came to an end and asked if we wanted to comment or replay it. Of course I wanted to replay about a billion times but Quinn was already typing by the time I got back to reality.
'Why don't you stick to what your good at? Being a guy.' That comment was the harshest by far, on the other videos Quinn would just comment about her horrendous dress sense or Streisand nose.
Brittany was about to say something, but Quinn had already hit send. I looked at it under the video; it didn't belong there. Quinn closed her laptop and smirked to herself. Why did she hate her so freaking much? I mean yeah, she was the most annoying thing to ever land on this earth, but she means well. I know everyone thinks I hate her but it's a really long story.
Quinn had plucked Brittany and I out by hand, we formed the Unholy Trinity, which was totally cool. Before all that though, before we actually had the popularity we had to make names for ourselves. Quinn was always the leader, Brittany was the one that kept us in check and I was the bitch. There's no two ways about it, and besides, I had perfected my scowl at the age of four. I was born this way.
It was Quinn who threw the first slushie at the first girl she saw; Rachel Berry. And so it began the torture of Berry. Brittany hated it, she hated everything Quinn did. I reassured her that it would make us top bitches, but she didn't even seem to care. I then threw the next under Quinn's command at the singer. I watched as she stood frozen in her spot, wiped her face and then stormed to the nearest bathroom. The crowd around me jeered Rachel just because I had slushied her. I had made her an outcast, but I had also made us top bitches.
And if you're wondering, Quinn made all those horrible nicknames. She invited us over one night; it was kind of like that scene in Mean Girls when their trying to take down the head bitch but this was the opposite. We discussed how to drive this harmless girl into the ground.
"What are we going to call her?"
"Maybe Rachel?" Brittany tried.
But Quinn waved her hand dismissively. "The worst thing you can say to a girl is that she looks like a boy, right?"
I grunted in response, my mind always wandered when Quinn started talking. It's probably because I knew whatever she was saying was spiteful and venomous, bullshit really.
"Oh god I'm good." She declared writing names up on her white board. "She will now be known as: RuPaul, Treasure Trail or Man Hands and if you not feeling creative just Berry. Understood?"
I looked to Brittany who nodded slowly and I followed suit.
"S, hello in there?" Brittany waved a hand in front of my face. "It's time to go, schools over.
"Thanks Britt." I replied still a little hazy.
I walked home trying to clear my head as Brittany babbled on about the many uses of toasters, but I had to focus momentarily reminding her that, no, you can't 'warm up' your knives and forks in a toaster. We parted ways as she headed down a different street towards her house, I continued homeward.
I dropped my bag at the door and headed for my room, the house sounded empty, it was always empty. I sprawled out on my bed and reached for my laptop. That was one good thing about absent parents; they feel the need to give you every possession you ask for. I turned it on and opened Myspace and Facebook. I returned some of the wall posts on the latter but then turned to Myspace. I glanced over my page but was more interested in going back to that video from earlier and replaying it forever.
I clicked onto her page and looked at her profile picture. It was just her, not sure from when or where, but she had one of those signature Berry smiles on, it was kind of cute. I searched to find that video of her singing and it popped up after I clicked the link. She was singing that song 'Somewhere' from West Side Story. I felt the lyrics gripping me as if they had real meaning.
'There's a time for us, someday a time for us.' She sang with passion, so much so, I believed her.
I scrolled down the comment left by Quinn earlier. Sometimes I hate Rachel, like when she rants or wears argyle but she didn't deserve this. I mean if that was me, my video, I'd kick Quinn's little god loving ass into next week but it's not like Rachel would do that anytime soon. I wanted to write a comment that showed Rachel she was appreciated but I couldn't I just couldn't. I was in my own account so it would show up as:
SantanaMoFoLopez: That was beautiful Rachel and to Hotties123... get a life, you can see she has amazing talent, you jealous bitch?
That just looks ridiculous.
I literally laughed out loud thinking about that showing up and what Quinn would say. Now half of me wants to do it, I loves me some drama.
No I'm not doing. I watched the video a couple of times, looking at the enthusiasm that radiated off the little teen. She loved every second of performing; she would savour it and put everything she had into it. I adored the way she put her heart and soul in every song like it had a deeper meaning to her.
Oh god, I like Rachel Berry. No. No way, I like Puck and his... Mohawk.
'Being gay is an abomination.' That was one of the first things that Quinn told me when she found out I was fooling around with Brittany.
"What are you doing?" She exclaimed as she walked in on us kissing on Brittany's bed.
"We were practising." Brittany said innocently without any hint of embarrassment.
My cheeks however were on fire. Quinn's glare fell on me.
"S guys love this at parties but being, you know... gay is an abomination, you know that right?"
I looked up to her and nodded indignantly. "What you think I'm some big lez because Brittany wanted to practise, we were kidding around. Just cool it Fabray."
I knew it was mutual, we both wanted to make out but Brittany never minded taking the blame because people just couldn't get mad at her. Quinn sighed and placed her hands on her hips.
"Watch it Santana, and make sure this" She gestured between Brittany and I. "doesn't happen again."
She walked out saying she was going to get a glass of water to rid her mind of blah blah blah.
"San, I don't wanna stop."
"Yea, I know we'll just have to keep it on the down low." I whispered before pressing my lips to hers once more.
I wasn't gay. I couldn't be gay. And more importantly...
I couldn't be gay for Rachel Berry... oh fuck.
I love being in Santana's head :) Yay? Nay? Love Brittana too much? Lemme know :)
