Oh hey there! For anyone who's curious, this story will be updated every few days.

Also, when I wrote the beginning of this chapter, I was picturing this video (insertnameofthatvideositehere.com/watch?v=9_cuA6Qj0PA) of the oh-so-talented Heather Morris dancing. Seriously, girl's a beast.

Enjoy!


Chapter 2

One. Two. Three. Four… One. Two. Three. Four. I counted the beats in my head as we went in to the final leg of the routine. My loose ponytail bobbed around and hair whipped in my face as I locked my hips and let my shoulders pop along with my arms to the rhythm.

"And I just can pull myself a-way, under a spell I can't break…"

My mind wandered on its own again to Santana and her chocolate eyes. I tried to push it out so I could concentrate, but this had been happening ever since I met her yesterday. It was inexplicable, but she had left me so curious – more curious than I had ever been about someone I had just met.

Maybe it had been her feigned indifference, or her lightning-quick insult towards Puck – but most likely it had been the way she looked at me just before the door opened, like she was seeing me for the first time. Whatever the case, I felt an overwhelming need to talk to her again and to show her that I wasn't an awkward weirdo. My eyebrows furrowed as I danced, it wasn't like me to care this much about what someone thought of me.

"And I just can't bring myself, no way… but I don't want to escape… I just can't stop, I just can't stop…"

I thought back to the conversation I had had with the boys last night over pizza, beer and football. The guys had this ritual every Sunday night – they would watch football and drink beer while wearing their favorite teams' jerseys. I thought it was cute and loved anything that involved uniforms, so I was happy to dust off my dad's vintage Cincinatti Bengals t-shirt when they let me join. Their only demands were that I didn't taint the event with "girly beer" or too many questions about the rules of the game. So I didn't mention that Hoegaarden was my favorite beer, because I figured it might be girly if the word "garden" was in the title. And I didn't ask questions when one of the players got tackled in the endzone and somehow the other team ended up scoring.

"Dude, you really need to do something about that thing – or I'm going to make you wear a hairnet next time you're in the kitchen." Finn pointed the tip of his beer bottle towards Puck's head and chuckled as he took a long swig. His bottle was wearing a mini matching Steelers jersey as a coozie, which I thought was almost as adorable as when dogs wore clothes to keep warm.

"Can we lay off on the hair jokes for the duration of this game? I already got an earful from Cruella today and I'd rather enjoy watching the Patriots win – again (he gave Sam the side-eye) – than think about cutting this manscape-tion creation." He ran his hand over the top of his head.

"You should really re-think that description." Sam laughed as he tried to wipe off pizza sauce from the collar of his Giants jersey. "And Santana's back? Since when?"

My head perked up from my book – I had been reading the Hunger Games since halftime.

"How long have you guys known Santana? I asked casually. "I didn't realize she and Quinn lived across from us."

Sam turned his head slightly towards me, but kept his eyes on the television. "Well, 'known' is kind of a difficult word to use with Santana." He took a swig of his beer and reached for another piece of pizza. "I met her when I moved in with these guys a year ago, but Puck and Finn have known her since she moved in with Quinn – so like, what? Three years now?"

Finn and Puck both nodded their heads disinterestedly while still staring at the TV. Sam finally looked at me.

"She doesn't really hang out with our group unless Quinn makes her. And when she does, she has two settings – distant or insulting. So if she's ever mean to you, just ignore it… or tell me, and I'll say something to her." He said and waited for me to nod that I understood he was serious before he turned back to the TV. Sam was always sticking up for me when people made fun of my "career as a space cadet." That was actually a comment that Sam had yelled at someone for recently, so it was still fresh in my mind.

The song came to a close and the other dancers began patting each other on the back. I snapped out of my trance and smiled at our head choreographer, Darius, as he reached his hand out for a congratulatory slap. I really liked Darius, and had already made friends with most of the dancers in the group. They were all so carefree and talented – and never failed to make me laugh. I knew this was going to be a good fit. We had been called on to perform in a music video in three days, and I was nervous about my first "official" appearance on the job.

I dabbed my forehead with a towel and checked my phone. There was a text from Mercedes inviting me to her and Rachel's apartment tonight for dinner and margaritas. I shot off a quick response of "Sounds groovy" and made my way back out to center of the studio for the next song.

/

I tapped out a short beat with my knuckles on Rachel and Mercedes door and was quickly let inside. It had started to lightly snow on my way home, so I was happy to feel warmth again as Rachel took my jacket to hang in their coat closet.

Their apartment was smaller and a bit older than ours, even though it was right across the street, but it was tastefully decorated in shabby chic with various shades of light green and pink. I liked it instantly.

"This is great! I love the fireplace." I said, gesturing toward the centerpiece of the living room. There was a large flat panel TV hanging above the mantel and it was turned on to some random nightly news station.

"Thank you!" Rachel beamed as she walked over and grabbed a margarita glass, already full and brimmed with sugar. "You know, we starving artists can't afford much – but I think this place has a quiet elegance to it." She handed me the glass and turned to survey the living room with me. "In the words of Audrey Hepburn, 'there are certain shades of limelight that can wreck a girl's complexion.' And it's really the same with interior decorating – it's just so easy to be gaudy and over the top these days." She shook her head sadly.

"Oh lord." Mercedes chuckled as she finished mashing up the ground beef for tacos. "Brittany, how's your dance stuff going? I googled the studio after you mentioned it and damn girl! That shit is legit! You guys are pretty much the most popular dancers to call on for music videos and movies being filmed in the city – am I right?"

I blushed, but nodded and laughed at the Mercedes-ness of her compliment. "I guess you could describe it that way. Darius calls us 'artistic consultants', but I honestly don't have the full swing of things yet." I looked back and forth between Mercedes and Rachel. "But I love it so far."

"While I don't know if I agree with your friend Darius' mixture of business terms with the free spirit of performance… your line of work sounds absolutely fascinating. I think it's great that you're doing something you love." Rachel replied sincerely and Mercedes nodded in agreement.

An hour later we were chatting casually as we ate our tacos in the living room. The TV was on mute in the background and Rachel had just started to tell stories about the famous people she had met since living in New York.

"Well, there was De Niro – such a lovely man." Her cheeks were slightly red from the two margaritas she had consumed so far. "And, of course, Barbra for the second time last March."

I smiled and glanced briefly at the TV behind Rachel's head. Within seconds I was choking on my drink and slamming my glass down on the coffee table.

"Have you not met Barbra before?" Rachel looked alarmed and put her hand on my shoulder.

I began to shake my head as I regained my composure. "Santana" I croaked out, still staring at the TV.

Rachel looked annoyed. "I would hardly consider Santana a celebrity." She huffed. "And I certainly wouldn't rank her anywhere near the likes of De Niro or Streisand."

Mercedes, who had been struggling to follow what had just happened, finally spoke up and pointed Rachel towards the TV screen.

"No, dummy – Santana's show is on." She rolled her eyes and then turned to me. "So you've met the ice queen, I assume?"

I was still trying to piece everything together. Why was Santana on the screen in front of me?

Finally I nodded and coughed once more before speaking. "I met her a few days ago outside of our apartments. Is she an actress?"

"If we're using the term loosely, then-" Rachel began, but Mercedes cut her off.

"Yeah. The girl was imported here straight from Hollywood. Have you really never seen the show she's on?" She raised one eyebrow and looked at me. I shook my head slowly and looked back at the TV, it had switched to a new scene and now she was gone.

"Well it's called 'Secret Society'" She continued. I raised my eyebrows as high as they could go and I felt my mouth drop open - that was my little sister Maggie's favorite show.

"Santana's not a main character, but I hear she's been getting more screen time lately… everyone loves the bitchy cheerleader." Mercedes laughed.

"I'd be more impressed if she had to play someone with a soul, but since this character is hardly out of her comfort zone – I'll save my praise for more deserving television actors. Like Katharine McPhee." Rachel added.

I decided not to push the subject further and just went back to sipping my margarita while Rachel and Mercedes argued in the background about what role Katharine McPhee would have pursued on Broadway. I looked back at the TV, hoping to catch a glimpse of Santana one more time.

/

It was Friday, the day of the music video shoot, and I was standing around the set talking to my mom and Maggie on the phone. Things had been so busy, but I was happy to finally be catching up. I had a few minutes left before we needed to be in position, so I was trying to wrap things up with Maggie.

"Okay, so then Douglas and Kate hook up – and everyone is like, 'whoa, didn't see that one coming!' But I did, because Kate is *such* a slut."

"Maggie!" I warned, but didn't stop her from continuing.

"Whatever. So then Kate is like, 'guess what! I'm preggers and I don't know if you're the father!' Major cliff-hanger."

She continued talking about another plot twist when I looked up to see the director signaling that we had two minutes, so I had to redirect her quickly."Okay, so what about the… the bitchy cheerleader? Is there a character like that?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh. Selena? Yeah, she's super pretty, but kind of an outside character that's only around every once in awhile to say something mean. She's a lot of my friends' favorite character though, and she's been around a lot more this season. Why?" Maggie asked, confused now by my sudden interest in her show.

I smiled. For some reason it made me super happy to know that Santana's character was well-liked by Maggie's friends, even if they were thirteen year olds.

"Oh, no reason – I was just curious because apparently they film the show in New York. Right?" I tried to cover. I didn't feel like telling Maggie about Santana yet, not without really knowing her and if she would want random people's sisters knowing that she lived across the hall from them.

"Yeah! They film at a fancy boarding school in the Upper East Side mostly, and then at other random places around the city. OMG! We are totally stalking the set when I come to visit." Maggie said excitedly.

I laughed but then had to quiet down as Darius approached. "Haha, sure thing. Hey, I've gotta run – but tell mom I love her – again – and I'll talk to you guys soon. Later, Mags."

I hung up the phone quickly after she said her goodbyes and shoved it in my bag. I now knew that Santana's show was a drama about privileged high schoolers living in New York, that it was in its second season, and that it was wildly popular among teens. I wasn't surprised that I had missed it – I wasn't a huge TV watcher – but now I completely understood why I thought I had recognized her when we first met.

"Brittany." Darius put his hand on my shoulder. "Let's get everyone in position, Blaine's going to be standing righhtttt, umm... right here." He said as he walked me over to the area where we would be dancing and pointed to tape markings on the floor.

Blaine Anderson was the singer whose music video we were performing in. He wasn't a huge star yet, but was quickly on the rise – and was a heart-throb among teens. I would have asked for an autograph for Maggie, but I always felt awkward about those kinds of things and had never been particularly star-struck over anyone in my life.

I began getting the dancers in position as Blaine made his way out. He started introducing himself to us and seemed friendly enough… even if he was shorter than expected and had a little too much gel in his hair. The director walked over and told us we would be running through our first take. I got in position, smiled and winked at Darius – who was monitoring us from behind the camera - and put my head down until the music turned on and my body started moving to the beat.

/

Later that night, after I'd washed away the sweat from a long day on set – I stood in front of my mirror, loosely curling my hair and singing along to the "Jammy Jams" playlist I had created for the weekend. I had my own bathroom, which I now appreciated more than ever – because I could hear Finn on the other side of the apartment asking Sam if he could borrow his deodorant. I wasn't afraid of boy cooties, but I really liked my deodorant and had just bought a new stick.

When I had returned from work earlier that day, Sam had told me that Quinn was throwing a party that night and we were all going. Apparently Quinn worked for a large consulting firm, which required her to travel often – so this was the first time in awhile that both she and Santana were in town for the weekend. I tried to play down my excitement over the possibility of seeing Santana again, but that didn't stop me from immediately rushing to my room to get ready.

I joined the boys in shotgunning a beer before we left– and made sure to burp quietly before exiting the kitchen. I was wearing my hair down with light jean shorts and a wide-necked black t-shirt that hung off my shoulders and exposed my favorite pink bra strap. The boys had made fun of me for not dressing weather appropriate, but I reminded them that I was wearing knee-high socks and boots – so only part of my legs were exposed - and that we were only crossing the hallway.

The party was already in full swing when we opened the door, and I immediately spotted Mercedes pouring shots by the sink – so I went to join her.

"Hey girl! You look fantastic! Want one?" She held up a shot towards me. I sniffed it, smiled, and nodded.

I took a look around the apartment for the first time while Mercedes poured out another shot. It looked sort of like ours – exposed brick, stainless steel appliances – but it was a two bedroom (without any added drywalls) and was really, really nice. I figured that maybe it had been renovated recently, and had possibly been decorated by a professional – because ours definitely looked older and slightly run down in comparison. My eyes focused on the window across the living room and I gawked at the incredible view of the Chrysler Building. Our side of the apartment was facing another high rise, which meant that I had to keep my curtains closed whenever I changed.

Quinn appeared next to Mercedes and I could tell she was already tipsy.

"Jonesie!" She yelled as she hugged Mercedes around the waste and rested her head on her shoulder. I smiled at Quinn's term of endearment. "I want a shot, shot, shot, shot – shot, shot. Errryboday!" She started singing and pumping her fist to her own song. Her short blonde hair was wild.

Mercedes started laughing and held up shot glasses to both me and Quinn. "Already poured you one, honey." She handed Quinn hers. "Here you go Brittany. You and Quinn met at your apartment party last week, right?" I took my glass, smiled towards Quinn and nodded – even though we hadn't really had a conversation that night.

Quinn turned to me and smiled wide. "Brittany!" She reached her glass out towards me, but downed the shot before I could clink it. Mercedes and I both started giggling. "I need to talk to you about living with the boys!" She looked at me seriously. "I think we can help each other out. I have soooo many stories."

I laughed again and nodded. Mercedes held up her glass and the two of us took our shots together. Just then, Puck and Sam came over and Quinn was instantly distracted. She was trying to make Puck a drink, but was failing miserably – so Puck finally laughed, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her to the side. It made me happy to see them being sort of cute together. I noticed that Mercedes was offering Sam a shot now, and I really didn't want another one so soon – so I grabbed a beer, told Mercedes that I was going to mingle, and started walking through the room.

I didn't really recognize anyone, other than Rachel – who was standing on what appeared to be the outskirts of a conversation that Finn was having with a group of guys – and a few other people who had been in our apartment last weekend, so I made my way over to the window to look at the view. A few seconds later, a large girl bumped in to me, causing me to drop my beer all over my boots and the floor.

"Zizes, are you fucking kidding me? If you keep spilling shit, I'm going to tranquilize your white rhino ass and sell your horn to an African drug lord."

I snapped my head up from my boots as a huge grin spread across my face. Santana approached us and threw a small towel at the girl's chest. The girl, Zizes, grabbed the offending towel from her shirt and dropped her mouth open before turning to face Santana fully.

"Oh no you didn't, Lopez." She started swaying slightly in place and was slurring her words. "Do I need to remind you of what happened the last time we decided to rumble?" She was up in Santanas face now, but Santana just rolled her eyes.

"Lauren! Come check this out!" Some guy called from across the room. The girl immediately became distracted, dropped the towel on to Santana's shoulder, and walked away.

Santana looked like she was contemplating tackling her, but then let out a huff, grabbed the towel, and bent down to start wiping away the beer on the floor. I leaned down too and reached toward the towel in her hand.

"Here, let me." I said as kindly as could. "There's not much, and most of it is on my boots anyway."

Santana looked up at me, but kept wiping until it was all off the floor. Then she stood up and handed me the towel so that I could wipe off my boots. "Sorry about that," she sounded annoyed. "I don't know why Quinn invited Zizes – she breaks or spills something every time she's here. That girl must chug a bottle of hand sanitizer before she parties, because I do not know how someone that large can have such a low tolerance level." She looked towards Zizes, who was now high-fiving a group of people after they had all chugged beers.

I laughed and looked back at Santana. "So… did you get new keys?"

She looked confused at first, but then smiled slightly. "Yeah. Quinn had them made already – so she gave me one after I left your apartment. She's always misplacing things, so this wasn't the first time I've had new keys waiting for me when I got home."

I nodded knowingly as I bent down to wipe my boots, "I used to leave my keys in the car all the time – but then my mom made me tie a ribbon to my door handle, so I'd remember to grab them before I left."

She let out a half-hearted laugh, "Yeah, well something tells me that Quinn would still find a way to lose shit even if she had a ribbon tattooed to her hand." She looked around the room for a moment while I continued wiping my boots and tried to think of something to say.

I looked up at her and took a moment to admire her outfit. She was wearing dark blue jeans, black pumps, a white v-neck and a black blazer. Her hair was falling in loose curls across her shoulders and I swallowed hard when I realized that those dark eyes were staring down at me, waiting for me to say something.

I shot up and began looking for a place to put the towel. She held out her hand, so I gave it to her. "I saw you on TV the other night." I finally blurted out.

Her eyebrows shot up for a second and then she smirked. "Ahh, so you figured it out." She folded her arms across her chest. "You don't watch TV much, do you?" She didn't ask it in an arrogant way, but was just stating it as a probable fact.

Just then the song changed. I recognized it because it was the song I had been dancing to for 8 hours straight at the music video shoot earlier today. Santana narrowed her eyes and put the towel down on the end table next to her. "Hold up – I'm going to change this playlist."

She started to make her way towards the iPod speakers, but was quickly cut off by a random blonde girl.

"Omg! How cuuuute. You play your boyfriend's songs at your parties?" She slurred and placed her hand on one of Santana's shoulders. Santana scowled, looked down at the girl's hand, and promptly removed it from her shoulder. She brushed passed the blonde and switched directions so that now she was heading toward the kitchen.

"Bee Tee Dubbs, why isn't he hereeee?" The girl called after her. Santana didn't turn around and instead grabbed two beers from the fridge and popped the caps off. She made her way back to me and held out one of the Bud Lights out for me to take.

"Thanks." I smiled and took the bottle from her hands. She just nodded as she took a long swig from her bottle.

"Change your mind about the playlist?" I looked over toward the speakers, which were now playing a random Rihanna song.

She shrugged her shoulders and took another swig. "I've heard that song a lot."

"Barbie" I pointed towards the blonde girl and Santana cracked a grin at the nickname. "She said you're dating that singer? Blaine Anderson?" I was curious to know what had made Santana react the way she did, but I was also afraid that she would get angry at me for bringing it up.

"No." She responded immediately, but then her eyes grew wide and she began to backtrack. "I mean, yes. Well… sort of." She finally said. "We're not serious. He's represented by the same talent agency as me."

I nodded and smiled. "You sound like me when I'm trying to explain how I feel about vegetables." I could see a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and she looked like she was contemplating whether or not she wanted to keep talking… but instead she just tucked her lips in to her mouth and kept quiet.

I decided to fill the silence. "My senior year of high school I dated this guy, Ben, because he was homecoming king… and I was homecoming queen." I hoped that didn't sound arrogant of me to mention, but it was the truth. "Everyone thought we were perfect for each other, and I've always been a fan of Disney movies and happy endings – so I tried to make myselffall in love with him." She scrunched her nose when I said that last part. "We dated for the entire school year before I finally told him that I didn't like listening to 'Born in the USA' every time we got in the car, or watching Varsity Blues in his parents' basement every other weekend… and even then I let him be the one to break up with me over the summer, because I felt bad." I didn't really know why I was telling her this story, but it was all I could think of to say.

Santana looked like she was lost in her own thoughts for a moment, but then she nodded slowly and straightened up her shoulders.

"I was home-schooled during high school." She said lazily. "We didn't have kings or queens of anything." She scanned the room and frowned when she noticed Rachel yelling something about her drink to Mercedes.

"Well, if you had gone to McKinley I bet you would have been Prom Queen." I said sincerely and waited for her to look at me again.

"Oh yeah? Why is that?" She sounded disinterested and was looking everywhere but my eyes.

"Because Prom Queens are always the prettiest girls in school." I said simply, and shrugged my shoulders.

She finally turned to me and eyed me suspiciously for a moment, before bringing her beer back to her lips and letting out a breathy laugh.

"Brittany S. Pierce! Get your sweet Ohio ass over here for some flip cup!" Sam called from across the room. Mercedes was laughing next to him and motioning for me to join them. I smiled and nodded my head, but before I started walking toward them I looked back at Santana.

She nodded once while giving me a small smile and playfully shooing me off toward the table. I smiled back, shook my head, and lightly grabbed her wrist.

Her eyes bugged and she immediately looked down at our hands.

I laughed and started tugging her along with me. "Come on, home-schooler. Show us Midwestern public school kids what you can do."