"Woaaaah! What's all of this?" I rotated my hands in a circular motion at my roommate who was currently occupying the entire couch, wrapped in a giant comforter, and wearing her heinous cat footie-pyjamas. Her nose was a rudolph shade of red and used tissues lay strewn across the the coffee table and the floor between it and where Rachel was sitting.

She held a single finger in the air signalling for me to wait a minute while she chugged an entire carton of orange juice. I could do nothing but stare, completely perplexed, in the entry way to our apartment, at the bizarre sight in front of me.

She took a large gasp of air after placing the empty juice carton on the table in front of her and spoke in a voice so nasally, it almost made her usually irritating nasal tone seem almost tolerable. "I hab a cole."

"A what?"

"A cole-ed" Rachel struggled to enunciate the word, and didn't seem to notice that I had been merely teasing.

"I thought Rachel Berry 'doesn't get sick'?"

"Yeah, weh, one ob the waitresses at tha diner came dow wih tha flu and faid to mention it 'fore sharing her glass of water wib me."

"Why would you share a glass of water when you work in a diner? They must literally have hundreds of glasses." I don't know why I even decided to inquire further about a matter I really didn't care about, but the words had left my mouth before I could stop them.

"Puck said if I ate a whole chilli that he'd cubber my shibt on Sunday night so I won't miss my bamd's gig, and her glass was tha closest one to me after I ate it."

"Not that I particularly care, but why would your band book a gig on a night you already have work?"

"It's at The Roxy, bere are a nummer of acts performing and Kur was able to book us a spot last minute 'cause some otha girl got a spot perforbing on Dancin wih tha Stars on Monday."

"Okay, whatever, that's still a dumb trade off, but I don't care, just stay away from me, I don't wanna catch your germs on a healthy day and you're extra contagious now, so if you could move this little booger party to your room instead of contaminating the entire apartment, that'd be swell."

Rachel made a muffled huffing sound but grabbed her box of tissues and her NyQuil from the coffee table, tightened the comforter around her tiny frame and waddled off to her own room. I wanted to call out to her to get her ass back in to the living room to clean up her dirty tissues but she had coughed her whole way to her room, and I feel it may have been solely out of spite, so instead, I left them there for her to clean up tomorrow and headed straight for the bathroom for a nice, hot, relaxing bubble bath.

Friday came two, painstakingly slow, days later, and though I had made virtually no headway with Brittany, I was still looking forward to the night ahead, not that I particularly liked staff night's out, in fact, I basically loathed them, but tonight was different. It felt pregnant with potential.

"Hey, you ok? You don't look so hot."

"Puh-lease Fabray, I always look hot. And I'm fine, I just have allergies or some shit." I insisted, blowing my nose vigorously into the sleeve of one of Tina's extra shirts. It was growing increasingly annoying how brazen Tina was becoming so I didn't even feel kind of guilty.

"You sure?" Quinn eyed me skeptically, but instead of responding I just nodded while wiping my nose again before going back to touching up my makeup. Damn allergies were making my nose all red and my eyes look puffy.

"Santana, John wants to see you in his office." Tina came barging in to the changing room, already unbuttoning her shirt and wearing a smug look on her face. This unnerved me.

"What does he want?" I asked, momentarily distracted by Brittany's sudden appearance right after her. I gave her a half wave but received only a tight, forced, half-smile in response.

"He didn't say but I'd get a mov-... What is this?!" Tina shrieked as she slid her arms into the shirt I had recently deposited the contents of my runny nose into. I would've laughed, but Quinn nudged me in the ribs and offered me a Kleenex.

"Just go." She mumbled harshly. Tina was too distracted by her snot sleeves to notices how hard I was finding it to contain my sniggering, but it certainly didn't go unnoticed by Brittany, who made a point of clearing her throat to grab my attention and then giving me a look more disapproving than a nun would give a priest in a brothel.

The smirk fell from my face and I bowed my head as I swiftly exited the room.

/

Though I'd had a few run ins with my boss, and known him to be kind, if not overly so, I never liked to be summoned. In my experience, people only ever got summoned somewhere when they were in big trouble, or being exceptionally praised... and I was never the latter.

I hesitantly knocked on the wooden door upon arrival and heard a muffled "s'open' come from the other side.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked more than stated, peeking my head in first, following with the rest of my body when he nodded.

"Please, Santana, take a seat."

I did as I was told, wiping my sweaty palms subtly on my costume under the pretence of straightening out the wrinkles sitting had caused in my pants.

Never one to beat around the bush, I cut straight to it "Did someone complain again? I swear John, I've genuinely been trying to "bring the magic" as you put it, but some kids are intolerable and I-"

"Shh, Santana, it's not that... well, not just that." Reading my confused expression he continued, "It's just that when I hired you, I didn't notice you were left handed, and it's not really a huge deal because you're not Mickey or Minnie or Goofy etc. it's just, it's been brought to my attention that some of your signatures look a bit smudgy as the day wears on."

I was mildly pissed, but it was nothing I hadn't heard all throughout school so I politely nodded in understanding.

"It really isn't that big of an issue, but if a child has multiple different autographs from Jasmine and the handwriting doesn't match up, it kind of kills the illusion. Just something to be mindful of."

"Ok. Anything else? Or can I go?"

John hesitated, but decided to just bite the bullet "Well, actually, your temperament needs a bit of an adjustment; I know we've talked about this before and I know you've been working on it, but I have, unfortunately, received a few more complaints in the last month about your attitude towards some of the guests, and I've received reports that you've been seen sitting down in the middle of your shift."

"Lies." I shook my head adamantly though knowing these claims to be true.

He sighed, as if expecting me to deny it. "Look, Santana, I like you; I can tell you're a nice girl, if just a bit rough around the edges, but Disney's standards are of the utmost importance and cannot be compromised, and I can't keep cutting you so much slack. I think I'm pretty fair when it comes to my staff, and I appreciate that the face characters are maybe put on a higher pedestal by our visitors, but we cannot accept that as an excuse for lacklustre performance. Just" he sighed again. "try to keep the smile on your face at least?"

I gave him an obviously forced, overly fake smile, and he just chuckled.

"If that's your best, well, we really are in trouble."

I couldn't help but genuinely smile at that. He really was much too nice for his own good.

"So... can I...?" I gestured with my thumb to the door behind me.

"Oooh no, no, you're going home." My jaw dropped and I immediately went on the defence.

"What?! You can't just fire me! I have rights, and I'm pretty sure I'm part of a union or something?!"

John laughed heartily at my outburst which just infuriated me more, but before I could cuss him out, he held up his hand as if knowing it was coming, and when he managed to calm himself, he explained,

"You're not fired, Santana, but you are sick, and I can't have you interacting with our visitors, this place is already a hotbed of infection as it is with all these children; god knows where they've been. Go home. Bree can cover your parade shift, we'll see you Monday."

I thought about arguing him on it. I wasn't sick, I just had allergies. But then I figured, a few extra hours of preparation for tonight wouldn't go amiss, especially considering Brittany clearly wasn't going to make this easy for me. And a nap wouldn't be entirely unwelcome.

"Fine, but tell her pull that stick out of her ass before she climbs on that float." I threw over my shoulder as I exited the office.

"So, where are we meeting everyone?" I asked while applying my favourite shade of red lipstick.

"Harvard and Stone. Can I use this?" Quinn responded, holding up my eyeshadow pallet; not waiting for approval before opening it.

"Ugh, I hate that place."

"Why?"

"It's tacky, but they try to make you think it isn't by filling it to the brim with hipsters in stupid hipster hats."

"Oh please, I'd have had to mop your drool off the floor if your jaw hadn't been firmly attached to it when the burlesque show started, last time we were there." Quinn said, lightly shoving me to the side to share my mirror.

"That girl was swinging off the rafters, Quinn, I was just afraid she'd fall! Plus, you never mentioned the bar had a burlesque show, I thought she was just some drunk chick taking her clothes off who had somehow climbed on top of the bar."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Don't 'mmmhmm' me, you know I hate when you do that."

"Mmmhmmm."

Ignoring her blatant attempt to piss me off, I walked into the living room, knowing she'd follow, and popped open the bottle of red I had left on the coffee table.

"Who's great idea was that place anyway? Tina's? I bet it was Tina, she's getting way too big for her britches."

Quinn gave me a quizzical look, "britches?" I shrugged and she went on. "Well, if you must know, no, it wasn't Tina's idea, if she had it her way we'd all be going to Rage."

I couldn't deny the truth in that. Tina was drawn to gay men like a moth to a flame. And though I enjoyed a good gay bar as much as the next lady-lover, I had to admit, watching Tina fawn over men who cringed at just the word 'vagina' was pathetic and a real buzz-kill.

"The starting location was my idea." Quinn admitted, not in the least bit remorseful that she had picked a spot she knew full well I didn't like.

"Whyyyyy?" I whined dramatically.

"Because, it's convenient enough for everyone to make it there without difficulty, and I figured it would be a good atmosphere to kick off the night." Raising her hand ever so slightly to stop me from arguing, she spoke again. "We'll just stay for one or two and then move on."

"Fine." I sulked, plopping myself on the couch like a petulant child, taking a large gulp of my wine, then grabbing a nearby box of tissues and blowing my nose furiously into one.

"You sure you're ok, you've been looking flu-y all day?"

"I'm fine." I insisted, "that stupid hobbit just gave me her head cold."

"And we'll never be royals... It don't run in our blood. That kind of luxe just ain't for us."

"Speak of the devil" I muttered as I heard my roommate fidget with her keys on the other side of the door. After our little encounter the other morning, she'd respectfully ceased bringing Lorde into the apartment so I was a little surprised by her ballsy move to relive that shit show.

Rachel finally got the door opened and paused mid-way through the lyric she was signing and froze, eyes wide. "Oh, h-hi Santana, I didn't expect you to- ..." She cut herself off and looked and the ground, speaking in a voice just above a whisper "I'm sorry."

I was satisfied that she cowered in my presence, but I could tell from the incredulous look on Quinn's face, she was not in the least impressed. She gave me a stern look that said 'we'll talk about this later' but didn't make any comment in the moment.

"Hi Rachel." She said in her sickeningly sweet Quinn way.

My roommate looked up from the ground, as if only now noticing someone else had been present. At seeing Quinn, she immediately perked up. "Hi Quinn, I haven't seen you in a while. How've you been?"

"No complaints. You?"

"Oh where to start?!" Rachel seemed thrilled to have someone to unload on "the diner's been crazy busy lately what with tourist season starting up, and my band has just booked a new venue for Sunday night, not to mention I'm still recovering from a cold and -"

"Okay Berry, we get it, you're busy spreading infection. You know the expected response to that question is simply "fine"; no one actually cares how you're doing. Now, if you'll excuse us, Quinn and I have lives and don't have all evening to spend listening to your first world problems."

Quinn threw me another disapproving look.

"Oh. Okay." she said, looking a little dejected.

I felt slightly bad, which I rarely did when it came to taking Rachel down a notch or five, but since Brittany said I was mean the other day, I've found myself feeling more and more ashamed whenever I saw that look on Rachel's face.

"What are your plans for the night?" Quinn was always too nice to Rachel in my opinion. It was almost like she potentially wanted to be her friend, which was outrageous because I firmly believe no one in their right mind could willingly want to put themselves in her company.

Coughing to clear her throat, Rachel mumbled something about Skyping her dads. My friend looked at her with pity but as quick as it had washed over her face, it was gone. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, silently letting me know she was about to do something I wouldn't approve of. I shook my head vigorously, but before I could stop her, the words were already out in the universe.

"Why don't you come out with us? It's nothing fancy, just a bunch of people from work."

Rachel looked to me for approval but I simply shrugged, there was nothing I could do now, the invitation had already been extended, then, with the most buoyant look a person could have, she nodded with waaaay too much enthusiasm for my liking.

"Ok! Yes! I'd love to! Just let me go change."

"You have 15 minutes, or we leave without you." I said in a warning tone, knowing Quinn would insist we wait for her. Still, Rachel rushed off to her bedroom to get ready while I headed to the bathroom to find anything that could disguise this cold for the next few hours.

"Come on man, you can't be serious? We're just in town for one night, can't you make an exception?" Some man in cargo shorts and flip flops was attempting to reason with the bouncer when we arrived. A quick once over of his friends, all wearing similar attire, and I knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"Sorry, but we have a dress code, no shorts or flip flops allowed." The stocky bouncer explained. "No exceptions. Now please, step aside."

The small group of men moved away from the door, grumbling in frustration. The bouncer barely took a second glance at our before standing aside to let us in.

"Let's get drinks first while it's not too crowded, I don't wanna be fighting my way to the bar later. Besides, the more alcohol I have, the less I'll be inclined to want to punch our co-workers in the face." I suggested, only half joking.

"Ok, but be careful, you took a lot of that cold medicine and I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to mix it with alcohol."

"Ok mom." Quinn just rolled her eyes as Rachel rummaged in her purse, pulling out her debit card.

"Drinks on me." she exclaimed, handing the card to the bartender.

"Rachel, you don't have to do that." Quinn insisted.

"Quinn, if Rachel wants to do something nice, let her, God knows she owes it to me."

Rachel studied my face as if trying to work out if I meant it, but soon gave up and turned back to Quinn "Really, it's no problem, it's the least I can do to thank you for inviting me out tonight."

Quinn smiled in return and ordered her drink.

I made sure to order a round of shots for the three of us, and then, when we were all equipped with our glasses of pinot, we set off to find the others.

In a corner behind the bar, it appeared as though everyone else had already arrived.

"Sorry we're late." Quinn apologised, taking the empty seat next to Blaine, and patted the spot beside her for Rachel.

"Yeah, Rachel needed extra time to apply all that whore make up she wears every day."

A few people chuckled, Quinn shot me the millionth warning glance so far that evening, Brittany looked just as disappointed in me as she had the day she told me I was mean, and Tina looked between Brittany and I with the most shit-eating grin I'd ever seen on a person.

I cleared my throat before sitting down on the other side of Rachel.

"Rachel, this is Brittany." Tina was all too happy to make introductions. "She's new. I don't know if Quinn or Satan mentioned, but tonight's her welcoming celebration."

Rachel sat her glass down on the table, then extended her hand to Brittany "Pleasure to meet you, Brittany. How are you liking life as a Disney princess?"

I looked to Brittany for her response, I hadn't even thought to see how she was getting on the past few days, maybe that's why she didn't like me? She seemed like a pretty nice person, and I could be a little self-involved. That must be it!

"I love it. It's like a dream come true really, I always wanted to be a Disney princess, and pretty much everyone's been really nice to work with."

I noticed she actively avoided me when she said this, but now that I felt like I had the situation sussed out, I wasn't as phased, I'd just show more interest and she'd see I can actually be a decent person to people who aren't abnormally irritating.

"Is Cinderella your favourite?" I asked. She seemed a bit taken aback that I had asked a seemingly genuine question, but the shock was fleeting and almost immediately her indifferent expression had returned. "No, I wanted to be Tinkerbell."

"Why? She's a bitch." I said. I hadn't necessarily meant the Peter Pan character, although I believed she too was a bitch, I was referring to Kitty, the girl who portrayed her at Disneyland, who was an actual bitch and I know for a fact everyone else agreed.

"That's true." However I was surprised that the person to agree with me was Tina.

I insisted on buying the next round of drinks for everyone in another pitiful attempt to show Brittany I wasn't as selfish as Tina had no doubt made me out to be, but she didn't seem any more impressed than she previously had been.

When Brittany had suggested we all take shots she had just concocted off the top of her head, I was the first in line, even though everyone else looked hesitant due to their odd murky colour, and even though the effects of mixing alcohol and cold medicine were kicking in. Still, that didn't seem to earn me any brownie points.

I even thanked Rachel when she bought a bottle of champagne, and tried complimenting her on how her bangs were starting to even out, when I knew Brittany was within ear-shot, and still, nothing.

I was running out of ways to impress her, or reasons she may have for not liking me. The only thing I could think of was that Tina had been polluting her mind with all kinds of dramatised bullshit. Maybe I should throw into conversation how Tina used to practice wicca and previously had voodoo dolls of everyone who she believed wronged her or that she didn't like (including me) and would keep them in her work locker and stuff pins into them at lunch time?

/

After about five drinks in (not including the champagne) I decided to make my move when Tina went to the bathroom, leaving Brittany alone for the first time all night. The burlesque performance had started and the bar had filled up, meaning I had to shout to be heard.

"HEY."

She glanced at me out of the side of her eye. "Hi."

"HOW ARE YOU ENJOYING THE NIGHT SO FAR?"

"It's fun." she stated plainly, not removing her gaze from the girl who was now hanging upside down from a pipe just above the bar.

"THIS PLACE GETS PRETTY CROWDED."

Nothing.

"I HATE IT HERE, BUT QUINN LOVES IT. SHE ALWAYS WANTS TO COME HERE."

This seemed to catch her attention. "She does?"

I nodded.

"Hmm, doesn't seem like her thing."

"NO! QUINN LOVES HIPSTER SPOTS."

"Good to know." Brittany nodded to herself, returning her attention to the scantily clad dancer.

"DO YOU WANT A SHOT? I'M GONNA DO A SHOT!" I gestured to the bartender to pour two shots, but when she placed them down, Brittany declined.

"No thanks."

Why was she making this so difficult?! I downed both shots just as Quinn came stumbling up to us, pulling Rachel behind her.

"YOU GUYS WANNA GET OUT OF HERE?" She yelled over the music.

"SURE!" Brittany yelled back, and I just nodded, happy to finally be moving on.

We all squeezed our way through the bar to make our way outside, we had found Tina on her way back from the bathroom, and met Blaine and the others on the sidewalk.

"Where to now?" Rachel asked.

"RAAAAAAGE" Tina slurred. She definitely couldn't have been as drunk as she was acting, she drank the least out of all of us, and accompanied every drink with a glass of water.

I could feel myself swaying on the spot, but felt I was handling my liquor pretty well, considering.

"I'm down for Rage." Blaine chimed in, which only caused Tina to practically pee her pants with excitement.

"No. This is Brittany's night, let her decide." I chimed in.

Brittany just shrugged. "I don't mind where we go. What do you think, Quinn?"

Quinn knew as well as I did, that Rage with Tina was 100% out of the question, and Blaine would just abandon us all to take what he believed was his rightful throne as king of the gays, leaving us with a sobbing asian by the end of the night.

"What about, uhm... I dunno, any other ideas?" Quinn struggled.

"Oooh ooh! Let's go to a strip club!" We all turned to look at Rachel, who at this point, was already the drunkest I'd ever seen her.

"I ain't goin' to no club with greased up men in thongs grindin' all up on me. No way!" I put my foot down immediately.

"I know! Why don't we go to Sassafras, it's got the same upbeat vibe we had here, minus the hipsters, and sloppy burlesque!" I was surprised to see Marley making a suggestion. I'd almost forgotten she was even here.

"Ok, let's do that!" Quinn agreed.

As expected, the next bar was equally as busy, except not quite as suffocating. I had only been here once before but I enjoyed it. A live band was performing on the balcony when we entered, and I could see by the look on Brittany's face she was impressed with the New Orleans-esque decor.

Knowing it was probably a mistake, but past the point of making good judgement calls, I ordered a round of absinthe for everyone. I could not tell you one story of mine that included absinthe that ended well, but right now, I was more concerned with ways to make Brittany like me.

The band performed periodically for the next half hour, and in that time I lost count of how much booze I, or anyone else for that matter, had consumed. We'd managed to locate some chairs in the back corner section, but not enough for everyone so I found myself leaning sloppily against a shelf type thing jutting out of the wall, watching Brittany dance with Rachel, Marley, and a few of the guys, as well as a handful of strangers who seemed to think our little group looked like fun.

Tina was practically sitting in Blaine's lap, rubbing his head, while he tried to remove her hands from messing up his perfectly styled 'do.

"Not had enough yet?" Quinn teased, bumping her hip into mine, and pointing at the glass in my hand.

"You know what they say Quinn, just a bottle or so tequila helps the medicine go down."

She laughed more than she should have at my lame joke, letting me know she was extremely drunk. She placed a hand on my bicep, half to steady herself, and half because she gets pretty handsy and flirtatious after one too many drinks. "You know, you are working that hopped up on cold meds, hot mess look."

I gave her an amused smile, "Thanks Q, you're looking pretty dashing yourself."

"Naturally." She laughed, doing a little curtsey and stumbling to the dance floor. I watched her go and caught Brittany looking right in my direction. Feeling bold in that moment, I winked at her, but she just rolled her eyes.

This girl was completely infuriating.

/

As the night began to wind down, and most of the patron's had already departed, we remained some of the last few stragglers at the bar. Rachel, Quinn, and some of the strangers who'd joined the group were swaying in a weird slow dance circle that was most likely all of them just using each other to remain standing, Tina had passed out under a pile of coats, Blaine was attempting to flirt with one of the fellow princes, Sam, and Brittany had just returned from the bathroom, and was finishing off what was left of her drink just feet away from me.

At any other time, in my full senses, and without the influence of an alcohol and cold medicine cocktail, I would have just cut my losses for the night, but of course, sober Santana and drunk Santana are two very different people who do not like to communicate with one another, so naturally, I brazenly approached Brittany.

"Heeeey Britt-Britt."

She gave me a weird look; in fact, I gave myself a weird look. Britt-Britt?! Where'd that come from?

"What do you want Santana?" She seemed bored; almost inconvenienced by my presence.

"Why don'tchu like me?" I slurred.

"Huh?" She had been watching the weird swaying happening on the dance floor, only half listening to me.

"I said, whydon'tchu like me. I like you."

"Sure you do."

I could feel my face form a dramatic frown. Why was she acting like I wasn't telling the truth?

"I do like you. A whole bunch. But you don't like me and I don't e-even know w-w-why and you-you're s-so n-n-nice to everyon-e-else." I knew I was getting emotional, to be honest, I'm surprised it hadn't happened sooner in the night. Drunk crying is usually a repercussion of my drinking tequila, but it seemed it took longer for my brain to catch up tonight. "W-why do-do-don't you like meeeeee?"

"Just let it go, Santana."

"Will you go on a date with me?"

"What part of this conversation gave you the impression I would say yes to that question?"

"I-is that a no?" My frown depend further and my whining only persisted.

"Yes."

I perked up "It's a yes?"

"No. I meant yes, that was a no. I don't want to go on a date with you."

"But whyyyyyy?"

"I can't believe you don't remember me."

"You ladies ready to go? The bartender says we have to leave, and besides, Blaine is trying to get waaaay too fresh with me." Sam interrupted before I could ask her exactly just where I was supposed to remember her from.

"Sure." Brittany said, and walked away without looking back.

"This was sooooo much fun!" Rachel spoke loudly in my ear, draping her arms across my shoulders. I was too drunk and too confused to forcefully remove her.

What was Brittany talking about?