A great man once said "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious." I don't agree. She was certainly beautiful when she was mysterious. But when she allowed me to unravel the story, to strip away the layers and get to the truth, that was when she was at her most beautiful. If the enigma is where the gold dust is, she was the gold dust woman.
/
Do you ever feel like you're existing without living? Maybe you had great ideas and wild scenarios about how your life would be. Crazy rides with friends who live like it's their last day. Who say fuck you to anyone who tells them they can't do something, and then do it harder than anyone else. Maybe you've dreamt of being somebody. Rich. Famous.
Important.
Me too. I spent so much time dreaming about it, that I never realised, until I met her, that I should've spent more time doing it. She showed me that. They all showed me that. I sometimes wonder for a split second, that if I could go back, and change my path, would I? And then I get my answer.
Absolutely fucking not.
/
New York. The Concrete Jungle. I was hoping, like so many others, that this city would take me and throw me into the sky, along with the countless other stars. I had everything riding on this. Dropping out of college, 3 years into it, disappointing my parents, using every last resource to get here. It was a cliché; young girl from small town takes off to The Big Apple to make it huge.
So here I was, Santana Lopez, 21 years old, from Lima, Ohio. College dropout and waiting for life to start. I'd arrived in New York a week ago, moved into a dingy apartment in Brooklyn and managed to get a job as a receptionist at some studio. It wasn't much, but it was a firm start. I had taken to trawling newspaper ads for any type of audition, acting or singing. My roommate, though annoying and loud, had been doing this a lot longer than me, so had been helped me out once or twice.
Here's the most frustrating thing about this whole process. Everyone has something on me. They've got experiences, stories, hidden gems about them that shine through. I have nothing. I had a few friends in college, that I have promptly lost touch with, a few little dates, nothing major, and I haven't experienced anything exciting. No wild debauchery, no crazy college experiments. Not even any experience in acting or singing, unless you count some shitty high school glee club. I came to this city, and realised quite quickly that I haven't really done anything with my life.
Looking out onto the expanse of New York, I realised how small I am in relation to the world. How short life is. I came here to make something of myself, so how the fuck was I going to make it happen?
"Santana! Don't jump!" I'm clawed back to reality as two arms wrapped around me and dragged me off the window perch. Falling with a thud to the floor, I looked up to see the giant nose peering down at me of one Rachel Berry. My roommate with an impeccable singing voice and a flair for the dramatics.
"Jesus Berry, I was just admiring the view." I pushed her away and dusted myself off, scowling at the short girl as she too climbed to her feet, wiping her horrendous ensemble of an outfit down.
"Oh well okay, I was just being a concerned roommate. Anyway, I have an audition for an off-Broadway in 45. You have one tomorrow right?" Rachel sat on my bed and rifled through my side desk as she spoke.
"Yeah, later on in the evening. I have work all day first so, I'll just go after." I explained as I grabbed her hands and pushed her off my bed.
"Alright well, I'm off, don't stay up too late on a work night."
I rolled my eyes and waved her off. She could be a nightmare, but she wasn't that bad. I would be lonelier without her so…
The rest of the night passed as most of my nights go, meals for one, in front of the television with the hustle and bustle of one of the greatest cities in the world reverberating around me. Yep, living the life.
/
Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, packing up my life in Ohio and moving here. I could have finished college, got a good job, met someone nice, had a picket fence life. My family wouldn't be pissed at me; maybe I would've even kept in contact with my college friends. Visited them once a month to moan about our spouses and our kids, caught up with the latest gossip. Sounds boring right? But stable. More stable than working as a receptionist, going to auditions and living with a girl who wears kilted skirts and reindeer sweaters.
These thoughts occurred to me regularly, especially at work. The job didn't require an ounce of thought. Answering telephones, taking bookings, directing people to the right rooms. But then I realised, I was working towards a dream, you don't try, you never succeed.
I don't know the first thing about the company I was working for. Only that they're a dance studio, located in Manhattan, meaning I had to commute between the boroughs 4 days a week, and they have like, a lot of people coming through those doors. I hoped I wouldn't be there for long, but it could've been worse. I could've been like Rachel, waitressing in a singing diner. How crass.
Packing up, another day, another dollar gained, I started heading for my next destination. I knew I was going to be a little early for my audition, but it would give me a chance to check out the competition and read over the small part of the script. Luckily, I was part of the first group of people to be rounded up and allowed to go into the room.
The audition was for a small acting part, they wouldn't really give much away but it was something. I had got there and given my name to the girl, as well as my papers and headshot. She had given me the script to read over, which I did until they called my name up.
I waited in the wings as people started to come and go, being given critiques and pointers. The audition judges were not holding back, three criers, one fainter, and one running off to vomit. And only 8 people had gone on.
As I stated my name for the two men and one woman in front of me, I realised I had to give my all, this could all count. The part was for some woman who had just been jilted by her love, not my cup of coffee but some people like that shit. I personally thought I had got off to a good start, not overacting but being dramatic enough. When you live with Rachel, you pick up on things.
My heart tumbled through my body when I noticed the middle guy with his hand in the air. I stopped and looked at him, breathing erratically whilst my mind raced.
"Thank you candidate..." he looked down at the sheet "...29476. I just have a question for you. Have you ever actually been in love? Have you ever known the passion for another person?"
My eyebrows rose. Who the fuck is this guy? "Erm, with all due respect, that's personal."
He chuckled to himself and wrote something down. "Let me guess, you're from a small town, mid-America maybe, you wanted to escape the futility of life, came to the big city with stars in your eyes and hope in your heart. But your story is just like everybody else's. You don't stand out. You don't shine bright. I'm sorry but I think we've seen enough here."
I gaped at the three people as they ushered me off stage. I was completely frozen inside. The guy was completely right. And I hated him for it. He had me down to a tee without even knowing me. I wasn't special, I was exactly like everybody else, so what hope did I really have.
It took everything in me to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill as I realised I had been manoeuvred into the streets outside the audition building. It was nearing 1am and I was standing in the middle of some unknown place, having just been handed my life story from someone who could've given me a real opportunity. I wandered aimlessly for a minute, trying to think of anything but the words resonating around my head.
I entered a diner at the end of the street, it was practically empty apart from a couple of people scattered around. I just needed to leave my head for a minute, focus on something else. I motioned for a cup of coffee which the guy behind the counter started making pretty quickly, scooping up the change I had left on the counter as I watched the brown liquid swirl around the mug. I sighed as I started to sip on the liquid, feeling it travel down my throat.
"You know, anyone would think you've got troubles on your mind." I startled and swung my head to follow the voice, close to my ear. Perched on the seat next to me, body completely turned towards me, was a guy, probably around the same age as me. I don't know how I managed to miss his company before, but he sure had my attention now.
He was quite tanned, with muscular arms bulging, a ripped tank and dusty black jeans. He looked completely unsafe, but the biggest and probably worst feature was his mohawk. A strip of black hair from the very front to the back. It was awful. I looked down as a smirk formed upon his face.
"Yeah well, maybe I do. But so have the countless other people in this city." I bitterly said, as I took another gulp of my coffee. The scalding liquid burning my throat helped me to focus on something.
They guy gave a short, mirthless chuckle. "Maybe. But perhaps, it should bring you comfort. To know you're not alone in your problems."
I peered over at the man, who was rubbing his hands together and examining his fingernails. I watched as he gulped the rest of his drink down and nodded at the server who took his mug away. "Yeah well, maybe for once, I want to be different from everybody else."
He stared at me for what seemed like forever. Peering into my eyes. I wondered for a split second if he could read minds, but then rolled my eyes at my own foolishness. This guy didn't even look like he could read a newspaper. I watched as he got up, waving for the server to take his mug as he gave him a roll of bills. The server nodded his gratitude as the mohawked guy walked over to the other lone patron of the café, patting him on the back as he received a warm greeting in return.
He walked over to me, his frame engulfing my vision as he stepped nearer. I shrunk back a little, intimidated by his size. He smiled at me, not a full smile, but enough to show that he was not a threat to me.
"You want to be different from everyone else Santana?" My eyes widened as he spoke my name. How the fuck did this guy know my name? My mind flashed back to him reading minds. I scanned his face, which remained stoic, as he held his hand out and uttered the sentence that would forever change the course of my life. Of more than just my life.
"Then come with me."