Chapter 2
A loud annoying noise resonates through Brittany's bedroom, waking up the blonde from her peaceful slumber. She groans into her pillow in displeasure and buries her head in it, trying to block out the sound. She sighs in relief when silence fills the room once again, which is short lived because a second later the annoying ringing is back again. It's not that Brittany isn't a morning person, because she is, but today she was actually looking forward to sleeping until noon, after last night's events. She searches for her phone blindly with her hands, knocking some things off of her nightstand in the process. She finds the device and brings it to her ear, clicking the accept button without seeing the caller's ID.
"What?" It's the first thing she says to the other person, her voice filled with annoyance and her eyes still closed.
"Brittany Susan Pierce, that's no way to talk to your mother." The woman on the other side of the phone chastises, making the blonde wake up fully, her eyes opening and widening at the same time.
"I didn't know it was you, mom. I'm sorry." She says apologetically while rubbing the tiredness away from her eyes. "I kind of just woke up. What time is it, anyway?" She half says half yawns before glancing at her bedside table and checking the time. "Mom! It's only 8 o'clock." She whines, a pout already starting to form on her face.
"You're always up at this hour." Her mother points out. "Did you not get any sleep last night?"
"You could say that." Brittany mumbles, the events from last night appearing in her mind. She brings her hand to her forehead and winces as the pain shoots through her body, making her retreat her hand almost instantly. "So… why did you call, mom?"
"Can't a mother call her daughter just to know if she's okay?" Her mother replies, almost sounding offended and hurt.
"Yes, she can… but not you." Brittany says pointedly, smiling amused at her mother's antics.
"I'm wounded." Her mother gasps in faux hurt. "But okay fine. I called because…" She trails off, making a queasy feeling settle on the blonde's stomach, a not so good feeling. "Because this friend of mine at work has a daughter…" Here we go, Brittany thinks to herself as she rolls her eyes. Her mother, since she can remember, has tried to set her up on dates and, despite all her protests, the woman just doesn't give up. It's getting to the point where Brittany is seriously considering hiring someone to be her fake girlfriend. "So what do you think?" The woman finishes enthusiastically, not realizing that her daughter wasn't listening to a word she was saying.
"Mom, for the last time, stop trying to set me up with people. I'm perfectly fine on my own." Brittany huffs in frustration.
"But Britty… I think this girl could be the one for you."
"You say that every time." Brittany points out, putting emphasis on the words 'every' and 'time'.
"But sweety-" Her mother tries to protest but she cuts her off.
"Mom, I have to go right now. My roommates need me. I'll talk to you later, okay? Bye, love you." She rushes out in one breath, hanging up the phone as soon as she finishes, not giving her mother a chance to reply. She discards her phone on her nightstand and decides to get up, knowing that she won't be able to fall back asleep. "What are you guys doing up?" She asks when she enters the kitchen, noticing her roommates having breakfast, which is unusual since they're not up that early on the weekends… well, except Rachel.
"We're going to the beach." Tina says through a yawn. "Why do you look like shit?"
"Thanks." Brittany says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the girl. She pours herself a cup of coffee and takes a seat at the table. Feeling eyes on her she looks up and notices her three friends staring at her questioningly. "What?"
"What happened to your head?" Mercedes inquires, looking at the bump on the blonde's head.
"Uh… I ran into a wall." Brittany says the first thing that pops into her head.
"A wall?" Tina says questioningly, looking at her friend suspiciously.
"Uh yeah. When I got home last night I didn't want to wake you guys up so I didn't turn on the lights and this happened." She says while pointing to her head, sighing in relief when her friends seem to believe her.
"Where were you last night?" Rachel inquires, quirking her brows at her best friend, making said best friend almost spill her coffee.
Crap!, Brittany thinks to herself. "I went to the hospital." It's not a lie, but it isn't the whole truth either… well, they don't need to know that.
"Why did you go to the hospital? Are you okay?" Her friends immediately freak out, throwing question after question at her.
"I just felt a little sick, but it's all good." Brittany reassures them, feeling relieved when they drop the subject and return to their pancakes.
"Do we have any more syrup?" Mercedes asks.
"Yeah, on the shelf in the garage." Rachel informs.
"I'll get it." Tina says since she's already standing and walks towards the front door, picking up the remote to open the garage as she goes.
Brittany's eyes widen considerably when she remembers a certain someone staying in the garage last night. "No, I'll get it." She says suddenly, hastily running after Tina. She catches up to her and immediately grabs the remote from her hand. "You know what, I think there's some syrup left in the house."
"No, there isn't." Tina points out, taking the remote back.
"We don't need syrup. It's not healthy." Brittany blurts out the first thing she can come up with, grabbing once again the remote.
"It's not like we eat it on every meal." Tina looks at her friend weirdly. "Are you okay Britt? How hard did you hit your head?"
"Why is it taking you guys so long?" Rachel's voice sounds out of nowhere and before Brittany can even comprehend what's happening, the brunette is taking the remote from her hands and opening the garage. The blonde prepares herself for the worse, her eyes closing on instinct, but when no screeching sound is heard she opens her eyes to see a garage… with no Santana. At that she sighs in relief…
They go to the beach right after breakfast, a warm but refreshing breeze running through the air. Her friends go ahead to find a good spot while Brittany falls behind, texting her mom as she walks slowly forward.
She's so fixed on her phone that she doesn't even notice a person walking her way, who, as well, is not looking at where she's going. Their bodies collide, both women releasing a surprised shriek and Brittany almost falling, haven't it been for the other girl grabbing her arm and pulling her towards her.
The gap between their bodies is practically nonexistent, being possible for Brittany to feel the warmth radiating from the other girl's body. She can feel goose bumps on her skin and tingles in the place where the person's hand is still latched onto.
But that quickly disappears completely when her eyes travel upwards and encounter a familiar face, her cheeks gaining a little reddish color in the process. She decides to blame the sun for that one.
She clears her throat awkwardly, taking a step back and disconnecting any physical contact between one another. "Don't you know how to say hi like normal people?"
"I'm famous." Santana states, shrugging nonchalantly.
"And very modest too." Brittany adds sarcastically.
"What are you doing here?" Santana asks curiously, dismissing the blonde's previous comment.
"What are you doing here? Go home."
"I tried." Santana breathes out.
"And?" Brittany quirks an eyebrow at her questioningly.
Santana opens her mouth but closes it again, shaking her head. "No, you wouldn't understand."
"Oh." Brittany says mockingly, drawling out the word. "So you think you're so special that a nobody like me couldn't possibly understand how hard it is to be you."
"Okay." Santana concedes. "There were about ten paparazzi parked outside my house with their cameras."
"Oh, that is tough." Brittany says in faux seriousness, receiving an appreciating smile from the Latina. "Not." She adds through a chuckle.
"See, you don't understand." Santana points out, shaking her head at her. "I just need to get home in a car the paparazzi won't recognize." Then an idea strikes her and she smiles at the blonde wickedly. "So what kind of car are you driving?"
Brittany snorts at that. "Oh you would love it. It's a classic. Really vintage."
"Perfect, I'll pay you." Santana says, not picking up the sarcasm on the blonde's voice.
"Stop that!" Brittany huffs in frustration, rolling her eyes at her.
"Stop what?" Santana asks confusedly, looking at her weirdly.
"Throwing your money around." She states in annoyance. "I mean, you still owe me five grand for staying at 'Garage de la Pierce'" She adds jokingly, both of them sharing a small smile. "Just give me your keys."
"Why?" Santana asks puzzled, frowning at her questioningly.
"Well if you're taking our car you can't leave us here without one." Brittany points out, extending her hand in front of the Latina. "Keys, come on."
Santana doesn't look too thrilled about the idea but pulls her keys out of her pocket nonetheless, albeit begrudgingly. "Look, she's a…" She pauses, taking her keys away from the blonde's reach. "She's a three hundred and…" She pulls her keys away once again when Brittany makes a move to grab them. "Three hundred and thirty five horse power, first generation sixty nine Tudor with original paint." She finishes in one breath, looking at the blonde pointedly. "Look, I love Cher, okay?"
"Cher?" Brittany quirks an eyebrow at the Latina. "You name your cars." She states more than asks, receiving a nod from the Latina. She rolls her eyes at the girl's antics and grabs her car keys, receiving a displeased look from her. "Come on." She walks towards her car with Santana right beside her. "Santana meet Petunia." She says, coming up with a name for her car just to mock the Latina.
Santana takes her sunglasses off for a second, putting them back on right after inspecting the pink old car in front of her. "You've got to be kidding me."
"She runs like a top." Brittany says jokingly, laughing at the dumbfounded look on the Latina's face. "Have her back here in an hour." She puts her keys in the girl's hand and as she's doing so two black vans appear out of nowhere.
"Get down, get down." Santana says hastily, pulling the blonde down with her by the arm. "I can't believe it. How do they know where to find me?"
"My best friend knows where to find you." Brittany points out.
"Here, put these on." Santana hands the blonde her sunglasses, receiving a confused look from her. "Now!" Brittany rolls her eyes at her but does as she's told. "Come on, get in the car." Santana pretty much orders her before going to the driver's side, still in a crouched position. She enters the car, closing the door behind her, as discreetly as possible, and opens the door for Brittany, hitting her once again, accidentally, in the head. Santana's eyes widen when she hears the blonde groan in pain, a scowl present on her face directed at the Latina.
"Okay, you really need to stop hitting me." Brittany states seriously, adjusting the sunglasses on her face.
"I'm sorry. Just get in, get in." Santana says hurriedly, looking behind her to see if the paparazzi have spotted them. She sighs in relief when they don't seem to notice them. "Quickly buckle up. Put your head down." She instructs her but before the blonde can do anything, Santana is already pushing her head down.
"It's down." Brittany points out, pushing the Latina's hand away and glaring at her in the process.
Santana looks behind her once again, noticing that the coast is clear, and, as quietly as she can, puts the car into gear and drives away. "Oh, I need my sunglasses back." The Latina says in a playful manner.
"I don't know. I kinda like them." Brittany says through a smile, adjusting the sunglasses on her face.
"I'll give them to you… later."
"Really? 'Cause my friends just won't believe that I, Brittany Pierce, have an actual pair of Santana Lopez's sunglasses, worn my Santana Lopez herself." Brittany says jokingly, imitating a fan girl with a high pitched voice. "Will you autograph them for me?"
"Haha very funny." Santana rolls her eyes at the girl, although a smile still present on her face.
"What?" Brittany says, shrugging innocently. "But seriously I really want these glasses."
"Nup. Give them to me." Santana says through a smile, extending her open hand to the blonde. "Come on." She wiggles her hand and the blonde hands her the sunglasses, shaking her head playfully at the Latina's antics. Santana smirks at her in victory, which Brittany responds with an eye roll, though a smile is visible on her face. "Damn it!" Santana suddenly says when she spots two dark vans not too far behind them. "I have to lose these vans."
Brittany opens the glove compartment looking for the map she keeps in there in case of emergencies. She snatches it out and opens it, turning it around a few times trying to find their location. "Okay, take the next left."
"You sure?" Santana asks apprehensively, quirking her brows at her.
If Brittany is being truthful she isn't sure, at all, she has never used a map in her entire life but since the vans are closing in on them she just goes with it. "Yes."
Santana does as the blonde tells her, albeit a little skeptical, and turns left into a dirt road, losing the vans in the process.
"Okay, if you take the next left the road will lead back to the highway." Brittany says unsurely, looking at the map confusedly and turning it around a few times. "Or maybe not." She says as an afterthought.
"This isn't even a road anymore." Santana points out, looking at the deserted land around them.
"Just keep driving." Brittany instructs as she fumbles with the map in her hands.
Santana rolls her eyes at the girl but decides not to say anything and continues driving. They drive for what it feels like hours with Brittany giving unsure instructions to Santana and with the Latina protesting every single time. "Okay, that last sign said 'dear crossing'. There are no dears." Santana says in annoyance.
"You know you complain more than my best friend."
"Are we on the right road or not?" Santana asks exasperatedly, looking at all the burnt trees around them.
Brittany looks at the map again with her face scrunched up in confusion. "Not?"
"Just show me the map." Santana says in annoyance, rolling her eyes at the blonde.
"No, keep your eyes on the road. I'm the navigator."
"Oh is that what you call it?!" Santana says in a sarcastic tone.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brittany asks angrily, glaring at the Latina in the process.
"It means you're such a know it all." Santana states seriously, huffing in frustration.
"A what?"
"A know it all." Santana repeats strongly. "You're the queen of snap judgments." She adds, glancing at the blonde and matching her glare. "Turn here, this is the right road, I'm sure of it." She imitates the girl's voice mockingly.
"I was sure of it." Total lie but Brittany isn't going to let the Latina win this argument, that's for sure.
"Yeah, you're so sure that you're sure of things that you couldn't possibly be sure about." Santana has no idea what she just said, neither has she ever said the word sure so many times in a sentence. Well she has never been lost in the middle of nowhere with a girl that drives her crazy (and not in the good way) before either, so…
"I am not!" Brittany protests angrily, crossing her arms in a defensive manner.
"And you're defensive." Santana points out, gesturing to her arms with a smirk.
Brittany huffs in frustration, disentangling her arms in the process, and scowls at the Latina before looking forward. "Move the car! We're not moving."
"What?" Santana says under her breath, looking confusedly at the unmoving car. She presses on the gas pedal, making this weird sinking noise sound from somewhere outside the car. They both share a confused look before looking out their windows, their eyes widening considerably at what they see… They're stuck in a muddy lake type of thing.
"Great." Brittany says under her breath. She has been stuck with Santana Lopez in the middle of nowhere for God knows how long, now this?! Someone really has it out for her.
"We have to get out and push."And as Santana lets out these words the car sinks even more, making the blonde release a surprised shriek. She crawls out the window onto the top of the car, wobbling a few times but being able to maintain the balance. "Wait, I'll help you." She notices the blonde having some difficulties in climbing to the top so she offers her hand, which Brittany swats away.
"Don't touch me!" The blonde glares menacingly at her.
"Why are you so mad?" Santana asks confusedly, quirking her brows at her.
"Oh I don't know." Brittany says sarcastically before adding loudly "This!"
"Look turning on this road was not my idea." Santana points out, putting emphasis on the word 'not'.
"You're blaming me?!" Brittany says outraged.
"Yeah, you're a terrible navigator!" Santana huffs in frustration, shaking her head at the girl's antics. Why is she so stubborn?!
"You're a terrible driver!" Brittany counters back, scowling at her.
"I'm a great driver!" Santana says defensively and stomps her foot on the car, making it wobble a little and almost throwing Brittany down, to which the blonde glares at her menacingly and she shrugs sheepishly.
"Right." Brittany replies sarcastically, rolling her eyes at her.
"Brittany we've got to jump." Santana says hastily when she feels the car sinking even further.
"I am not jumping." Brittany states strongly, looking at her sternly.
"You've got a better idea?!"
Brittany looks around, a branch right beside the car catching her eye. "Use the branch as a bridge."
Santana looks at her unsurely and then at the branch, which seems like it can't even hold a bird. "It does not look stable."
"It looks fine!" Brittany yells exasperatedly, nudging the Latina forward. Santana, albeit begrudgingly, climbs on top of the branch carefully, one foot at a time. "It's sinking and making noises. Go faster!" She says loudly and pushes the singer a little. "This is my car!"
"I understand that! Just give me your hand." Santana extends her hand at Brittany, which the blonde takes and squeezes a little too hard (intentionally), making the Latina (try to) suppress a whimper. She gets one foot on the branch carefully and as she's about to put the second one, Santana loses her footing and falls into the muddy water, bringing Brittany down with her. "Are you okay?" The Latina asks her to which she receives a glare in return. Why is she always mad at me?
Santana grabs onto the branch and pushes herself out of the water and onto dry land, offering her hand to Brittany and pulling her out of the water as well. The blonde watches her car sink lower and lower, the inside filling with water, until it is swallowed by the muddy water, making a noise that resembles a fart.
"Excuse you." Santana says jokingly, the smile on her face dropping the moment she sees the scowl on the blonde's face directed at her.
"You killed Petunia!" Brittany says accusingly, mad at the Latina… Well she's always mad at her so…
"Well… yeah." Santana shrugs innocently, looking at her sheepishly.
"Why did I have to get in that stupid car with you?" Brittany huffs in frustration, storming away from the Latina.
"Britt, where are you going?" The nickname falls out of Santana's mouth without her even noticing.
"To the beach, where my friends are probably freaking out right now."
"Uh Britt?" Once again the nickname falls out of her lips easily and neither one of them notices.
Brittany turns around begrudgingly and quirks her brows at her questioningly. "What?!" She asks annoyed.
"The beach is that way." Santana says, pointing at the opposite direction to where the blonde was going.
Brittany restrains herself from saying anything as she passes the pop star, glaring at her when she notices the smug look on her face. Santana smirks in triumph and shakes her head at the girl's behavior, walking behind her in silence.
They walk for what it if feels like hours, with Brittany acting like she's on a marathon and Santana just trying to catch up to her. There's also a few times when the pop star's eyes avert down the blonde's body and stop on her cute little butt (Santana's words). She can't help it, Brittany is hot and she knows it.
Fed up of the awkward silence between them, Santana decides to start up a conversation, which she later will know it was a bad idea. "Hey, how are you doing? You're okay?"
"Now you're concerned?" Brittany asks monotonously, not slowing down her pace.
"I've always been concerned." Santana says honestly, which is a surprise even to her because it is the first time she has been 100% sincere with someone.
"Maybe you should stop." Brittany suggests nonchalantly.
"Why are you so grumpy?" Santana states more than asks.
"I am not grumpy, or cranky, or crabby. I just wanna go home." Brittany huffs in frustration.
"You wanna know what I want?" Santana asks rhetorically. "I wanna have fun. And for the first time in years there's no reporters, there's no interviews, there's no crowds. I'm having a great time. I want you to stop complaining so I can enjoy it." She breathes out irritated, storming away from the blonde like she did to her before.
"Wow, so that's what it's like with you." Brittany stops in her tracks and rolls her eyes at the Latina. "You don't get what you want so you throw a big old tantrum and walk away? I bet your friends chase after you when you do that." Santana stops in her tracks but doesn't turn around or says anything so the blonde continues. "Oh Santana I'm so sorry I hurt your delicate little feelings. Santana forgive me for not treating you like the big enormous star you think you are." She says mockingly, shaking her head in frustration at the girl. "What a brat!"
"I'm a brat?!" Santana asks baffled, suddenly walking hastily back towards the blonde and stopping right in front of her. "What about you, uh?"
"Me?" Brittany asks puzzled.
"Yeah. For the last two days I've done nothing but think about you." Santana blurts out sincerely, not realizing the meaning behind her words.
"Really? So when you hit me with the door twice, hid me in your house, wrecked my car and dropped me in mud, you were just being thoughtful?" Brittany says sarcastically, looking at her pointedly. "Oh, I pity your friends."
"You wish you were one."
Brittany takes a step forward, her face only inches away from Santana's. "I would rather go down with Petunia." She states seriously, her voice dangerously low, and walks away, her shoulder hitting the Latina's in the process.
Santana comes out from her frozen state, her mind finally catching up to her body, and runs after the blonde, grabbing her wrist to stop her in her tracks. "Why don't you like me? Everybody likes me."
"Maybe it's because you think everybody likes you." Brittany points out, freeing her arm from the singer's grip and feeling tingles running through her body.
"It's because I'm likeable." Santana says seriously not understanding why the blonde is so cold towards her.
"No. It's because you're a star." Brittany states seriously.
"What does that mean?" Santana asks confused, her face all scrunched up.
"You don't even see it, do you?" Brittany breathes out, the puzzled look on the pop star's face confirming her suspicions. "Your life isn't real. You park in no parking zones, you never have to wait in line, you buy anything you want anytime." She says in one breath, groaning in frustration at the still confused look on the girl's face. "Your house is like a hotel, you have so many people working for you and I'll bet you don't even know their names."
Santana snorts at this, rolling her eyes at her mockingly. "Do to."
"Name one." Brittany says challengingly, quirking her brows at her.
"Bob." Santana says the first name that pops into her head, not wanting to let the blonde win but also knowing she's right.
Brittany can see right through her lie and shakes her head at the Latina's behavior. "You just made that up."
Santana tries to salvage the situation but it's no use, she doesn't know how but the blonde can see right through her and that's both terrifying and exciting. She's definitely something different., she thinks to herself. "Well, Quinn knows everybody, that's her job."
"See that's not normal. Your best friend is your manager." Santana looks at the blonde baffled and tries to find something, anything, to throw back at her but comes up short. "That's all I'm saying." Brittany smirks triumphantly, a smug look on her face, and returns to her previous path, a dumbfounded Santana right behind her.
The rest of the walk is spent in silence with Santana still mulling over the blonde's words and with Brittany just minding her own business and keeping up the fast pace.
Not long enough they arrive at the beach, which is pretty much deserted except for a few surfers and Brittany's friends bathing in the sun. "So I guess we won't be seeing each other again." Santana says quietly and the blonde could swear there was a hint of sadness there, but dismisses the thought as soon as it enters her mind.
"Unless there's a door around." Brittany says jokingly, catching the Latina, who's accustomed to the blonde's angry side, off guard. "I'll see you around superstar." Brittany says lightheartedly, earning a smile from Santana, and without another word she turns around and walks towards her friends, with the singer's eyes always on her.
"What happened to you?" Mercedes asks as Brittany comes into view and she sees the semi-dry dirty clothes the blonde is wearing and the smudges of mud on her face and hair.
"I had a long day." Brittany breathes out, earning a weird look from her friends.
"What's going on?" Santana asks confused as she sees her producer storming in her house, at 10 o'clock in the morning, with a pissed off look on his face.
"Have you shown her?" He directs his question to Quinn, who appears right behind Santana.
"Shown me what?" Santana asks puzzled, frowning questioningly at both of them.
"This." Her producer states while tossing the magazine he was holding behind his back at the Latina.
Santana looks at him weirdly before glancing at the magazine in her hands, gasping in shock when she sees it. It being the front page covered in a large picture of her and Brittany on the beach, standing very close to one another. Damn it!, she curses internally at this, rolling her eyes at the headline 'Santana Lopez and mystery girl take a stroll on the beach'. "What is this?"
"You tell me." Her producer says, clearly angry at the whole thing. "Once again you made the front page with another one of your conquests."
"What?" Santana says loudly. "I don't even know this girl. I just accidentally bumped into her once."
"Oh really? Then what's this?" Her producer grabs the magazine from her and flips through the pages until he finds what he's looking for, handing the magazine back to the Latina.
"Okay, twice." Santana shrugs innocently as she looks at more pictures of her and Brittany, a few of them taken outside the club where they first met. "But this is completely taken out of context." She adds hastily, trying to calm her producer down.
"They don't care about that Santana. They just want to sell magazines." Her producer states seriously, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.
"Well I can release a statement saying that she was just a fan or something like that." She suggests, looking at her best friend/manager for support.
Quinn looks at her guiltily, making Santana feel nervous all of a sudden. "Uh… We've kind of already taken care of the situation."
"What do you mean?" Santana asks slowly, looking at both of them suspiciously. The answer comes a second later when Quinn points to a spot in the magazine, and let me tell you, it was not the answer she was hoping for. "The mystery girl spotted on the beach and outside 21 club with the pop star and teen idol Santana Lopez is in fact the singer's girlfriend, confirmed by her rep." She reads out loud, her eyes widening in the process. "What?!" She yells angrily, glaring at Quinn and her producer. "Are you guys kidding me? Girlfriend? That was the best you could come up with?"
"It was the only thing that could help your image." Quinn tries to explain, eyeing the Latina cautiously.
"We have to do something about this. We can't stay girlfriends." She will kill me, Santana thinks to herself, remembering fully well the blonde's dislike towards her.
"I'm afraid you will have to. This is not open for discussion." Her producer states strongly.
"Quinn!" Santana whines, looking at her best friend for help.
"I'm sorry San, but he's right." Quinn looks at her apologetically, making the Latina sigh in surrender.
"Well what am I supposed to do? I don't know anything about her, except her name and the fact that she doesn't like me very much." Santana huffs in frustration.
"Well I suggest you change her mind and fast." Her producer says, before walking out of her house, leaving a flabbergasted Santana behind with only one thought running through her head: I'm in trouble.
Brittany is just finishing her last dance class of the day when she notices it… a few of her students staring at her, whispering between each other. She dismisses it at first thinking that she's becoming paranoid but then, as she's exiting the room, a few teachers glance her way, even the creepy lady at the front desk. She shakes her head, telling herself that she's just tired and imagining things, dismissing the subject once again.
But then it happens again. As she exits the dance studio and walks home she can't help but feel eyes on her. And this time it's not a product of her imagination. People across the street, people that pass by her, even people that are in their cars keep glancing her way. At first she thinks it's because she has something on her face, but that option is instantly put aside when they continue to stare at her even after she cleans her face three times with a wipe.
She starts to feel uncomfortable under all those stares and the worst thing is that she doesn't even know why they're staring. So she just decides to ignore them, picking up her pace and looking at the ground as she goes. She sighs in relief when she finally arrives at her house, opening the front door and closing it right behind her. She sees her friends on the couch watching TV, or so she thinks, and greets them before walking towards the kitchen.
"You guys won't believe what happened to me today." She says from the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the bowl and returning to the living room. "People kept staring at me like…" She trails off, noticing the way her friends are looking at her. "Like you guys are right now." She looks at them weirdly, frowning questioningly. This day just keeps getting weirder. "Is there something on my face?" Getting no response, she huffs in frustration. "Seriously guys, what the hell is going on?" That seems to break them from their trance, Rachel being the first one to make a move. She walks towards the blonde and hands her a magazine. Brittany quirks a brow at her, not understanding how a magazine can be helpful, but the brunette just points at the page. The blonde's eyes widen comically, the events from that day finally making sense now.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Rachel asks, sounding happy and hurt at the same time. The first because her best friend is dating her idol and the second because said best friend didn't tell her.
"Tell you what?" Brittany asks befuddled, trying to piece together in her mind what she's reading.
"That you're dating Santana Lopez." That seems to make her brain start working again, the Latina's name being the trigger. She can already feel the anger starting to rise and, let me tell you, it's not a good sign.
"She's so dead." Brittany says under her breath, already planning the Latina's death in her head. She rolls up the magazine in her hands and, without saying anything to her friends, storms out the door.
Santana is mindlessly flipping through her channels when suddenly the door bell rings. She groans in displeasure, not wanting to get up from her comfy couch, but does it nonetheless albeit begrudgingly. She drags her feet on the floor, going at a snail's pace towards the door. She huffs in frustration when the person on the other side of the door keeps ringing the door bell insistently and picks up her pace so she can give the visitor a piece of her mind. But that doesn't happen because the words die in her mouth the moment she opens the door to reveal a very pissed off blonde girl.
"I'm gonna kill you." It's the first thing that comes out of the blonde's mouth, her eyes flaring with anger, making the Latina gulp nervously.
A/N: Here's another chapter guys, I hope you like it and feel free to tell me what you think or what you would like to see happening.
Also thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites and follows! You guys are awesome! :)
P.S. I suck at making covers to my stories so if anyone is interested in creating any just let me know and I'll really appreciate it. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or StarStruck, I'm just responsible for the sucky writing I put you guys through. ;)