This fic hasn't even been up for a day and already oodles of follows and favs! Figured I was doing something right, so here have another chapter!
I don't own glee
P.S. Good looks to the Guest who pointed out the "Sexist Man Alive" thing.. yeah, uh, definitely don't want that!
Santana was trying to enjoy the show. She really was, it was the Oscars, how could one not enjoy it? Her nerves were getting to her, not to mention Brett Pierce's fine ass was seated directly behind her. She could feel his eyes on her, but then again she felt like everyone was watching her. She was more than relieved when a staffer came to retrieve her for her introduction of Adele. As she got up she shot her parents a pointed "Don't you dare try anything" look and shyly smiled when she caught Brett's eyes.
That's when she noticed that Brett had been seated next to Rachel Berry, the Broadway extraordinaire who most recently made her jump to film as Eponine in Les Mis. Santana frowned at that.
Are they dating? Ugh, she's so talented! She totally just rocked that performance! Whom am I kidding thinking I stand a chance?
Oh for fucks sake, the self-deprecation is suffocating! Look at us, we're hot as fuck, an Oscar nominee and not to mention we've made out with Bradley Fucking Cooper, albeit it was for a movie, but still! Bitches would kill to be us! Shoulders back Lopez!
Santana was thankful she made it through the Adele introduction without making a fool of herself. She seemed to be really good at that, much to Quinn's annoyance. She never did anything malicious or scandalous, but the whole "Oh look at that, it says 'I beat Meryl'" thing proved to give Quinn quite the headache. She had terrible word vomit that struck whenever it felt like it.
Like right now.
"You sounded great… So, are you like dating Brett Pierce?"
Yep. Santana just verbally vomited all over Rachel Berry.
Rachel looked a little flattered at the compliment, and a little taken aback at the question.
"Well, Hello! Thank you for your compliment, I take my singing very seriously, much like you take your profession seriously. You were spectacular in SLP, that's what the blogs are calling it! You really captured the crazy. And speaking of crazy, no, I am most definitely not dating Brett…" Rachel laughed, like belly laughed, "We are just friends, he is MOST definitely not my type!" Rachel finished, sounding a little appalled at the idea of her and Brett as a couple.
Don't see how Brett could NOT be any girls type…
"Brett is single though" Rachel winked before both women were ushered back to their seats.
Santana couldn't help but grab a flute of champagne as a waiter passed by her backstage, quickly drinking it before entering back into the seating.
….
Oh don't judge me. I'm entitled to it! Santana defended herself from her inner self as she walked back to her seat in the front row; Rachel had already taken her seat next to Brett who was in a deep conversation with Hugh Jackman.
When Rachel noticed Santana approaching she gestured towards Brett with, what she thought, was a sly thumb point and an exaggerated wink.
She's a strange one
Definitely not sly. Maribel picked up on it and wiggled her eyebrows at her daughter.
"Mami, stop." Santana said as she sat down, cheeks hot from embarrassment at being got with a crush.
Her cheeks heated up once again when the Best Actress nominee clips were rolled. Santana loved, but hated the attention. She loved being recognized for her work, but she felt everyone scrutiny on her as the camera split away, showing all the nominees as the suspense built.
Santana gave herself a metaphorical pat on the back for not shitting herself when she heard her name called. She felt so many emotions at once: Joy, relief, and a tad bit of anxiety. How do you top winning an Oscar?
Santana turned to her father first who was beaming with pride. She was soon engulfed in a big bear hug from her father as he told her how proud he was of her. She turned to her mother who had tears running down her cheeks as she hugged her daughter.
Remember to thank Kurt later for demanding waterproof mascara.
Santana started to move towards the stage but was intercepted by Bradley her, handsome but old, costar who kissed her on the cheek and whispered a "You deserve this" in her ear. She found it funny that people thought they were a couple. Santana thought it was funny, but kind of gross, he was like five years younger than her father. As she turned to give one last look at her family before making her way to the stage, she locked eyes with Brett as he clapped and hollered obnoxiously for her, Rachel stood next to him being equally flamboyant.
Damn, celebrities aren't as bad as the tab-
Santana's thoughts were interrupted as she almost fell flat on her face.
OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! REALLY?! REALLY?! WHY?! Santana thought as she stayed down for a moment, trying to get herself together. If anyone was going to trip up the stairs while going to receive their first Academy Award, it would be Santana.
Santana had only meant to take a second to collect herself, but figured it had been longer than that when she felt a hand gently grab her arm and looked up to be met with Brett Pierce's concerned face.
"Are you okay? You hurt?" Brett asked in a worried voice as he helped her to her feet.
Santana blushed profusely; one, because she had just ate shit in front of millions, and two, because the most sought-after man in the world was genuinely concerned with her wellbeing.
Santana ducked her head as she spoke "Yeah, pride's a little hurt, that's all."
Brett's concerned smile turned into one of amusement, and Santana thought, maybe, a little pride.
"Well then, go up there and get your award. Show Rick the Stick who the real winner is!" Brett said with a charming smile as he lifted his hand that had been lingering on Santana elbow.
Swoon.
.Died.
Santana smiled bashfully back as she turned and headed up the stage.
She kissed the presenter on the cheek and grabbed the Oscar that was handed to her.
She walked to the microphone and took a deep breath.
Okay, we've rehearsed this. Don't say anything embarrassing.
…
Okay, nothing TO embarrassing.
"Uhm…wow… You guys are just clapping cause I tripped.." Santana said. Word vomit. But at least it got a good laugh out of the audience.
"Wow, okay. First off, I want to thank Brett Pierce for helping just now. Probably would have stayed and wallowed on the floor had you not just helped me up, and I'd just like to say the stage is super shiny so shout out to the maintenance people… Okay then, I'm rambling. Uhm, this is just such an honor. Right, well thank you to the Academy. Thank you to my parents and my brother and sister, I love you all so much. Thank you to my friends and team, without you I would look as crazy… well as crazy as I am.." Another mass laugh broke out "…And of course to the cast and crew, I wouldn't be here had it not been for you, truly an honor working with each and everyone of you! Thank you.. just thank you everyone." Santana finished as she waved the Oscar towards the audience.
The next forty-five minutes was a bit of a blur for Santana. She took pictures with her award and probably had a few to many shots, and fielded questions from numerous media outlets.
She died a little when Jack Nicholson interrupted her George Stephanopoulos interview.
She'd later blame the tequila and tell Quinn to "Argofuckyourself" when lectured about flipping off the cameras. It was in the spirit of the best picture, she had defended.
Everything was blurry until she heard Sherri Shepherd mention something about a "dashing gentleman coming to a damsels rescue", okay she really said "Fine piece of ass saving a broad", but it's the Oscars, its supposed to be classy.
Riiiightttt.
Santana made her way over to Sherri's little "Behind the Scenes" desk. She waited until they went to commercial to actually approach the hilarious black lady, she was already going to be in trouble with Quinn for the whole finger thing, no need to piss her off further.
"Hey, uh, what did you say about a 'fine piece of ass'?" Santana questioned a surprised looking Sherri when she was sure the camera wasn't rolling.
"I was talking about you, boo! How Brett Pierce literally jumped over a chair to pick your busted ass off the ground."
"Wait, he jumped over a chair?" Santana asked with her eyebrows scrunched in confusion, totally ignoring the whole 'busted ass' comment.
"Yeah, girl! Come watch!" Sherri said as she lifted an iPad off the desk.
Santana cringed as she watched herself trip, but suddenly felt all giddy as she watched the camera pan to Brett as he did quite literally jump over her empty chair and rush towards her.
"Hmmm, girl, you better jump on that sexy man train while you can! You aint gon stay that skinny forever!" Sherri said as she rewinded the video and replayed Santana tripping in slow motion, with what looked like a sadistic smile on her face.
Jealous much? Santana thought as she turned to leave the desk. Suddenly it hit her.
She's jealous of me. OF ME!
Yeah bitch, of us. Your point?
She has a reason to be jealous! Brett Pierce literally jumped a chair fo-
Hold up, you make it sound like he took a bullet for us.
Whatever, the fact of the matter is, Brett Pierce could, potentially be into me. Making other bitches feel threatened!
And your parents said you should go to college…
..Shut up.
Santana looked over her shoulder and with a smirk called to Sherri who was still watching the video.
"Yo Shepherd, I'm all aboard that sexy man train!"
I'm having too much fun with this fic! Really has no direction though, kind of just going where the literary wind takes me, so let me know if you guys want to see anything in particular! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!
