"Santana! Why did you post it with all those comments? No one is going to take that seriously!"
Rachel was fuming. She started yelling about how Tina had made them promise to proof it before posting it, and that meant proofing it when they - specifically Santana - weren't drunk. The latina rolled her eyes and gently shoved Rachel away from her computer.
"We can repost it, Rachel," she said, her voice sharp as if threatening to say something more. She wasn't in the best mood right now - her morning class went horribly because she had drank more than anyone else last night. Because she was nursing a hangover, she didn't find her record mixing class entirely helpful. She couldn't stand trying to listen to her mix for more than five minutes at a time, let alone two hours.
"Do me a favor, Rachel," Santana said as nicely as she could muster. "Calm down and breath and stop yelling at me for something that isn't a big deal."
Rachel opened her mouth to retort, but slowly closed it. She looked Santana over and realized she looked rather terrible for once. Usually Tina was there to help remedy Santana's hangovers. Plus, she had to admit, as irritated as Santana looked, the latina was doing her best to stay civil. Santana had come a long way since High School.
"Fine, Santana. But if it doesn't get any replies by tonight, then we're going to take it down and put a new one up-"
"Hold up," Santana said, raising her hand lightly. "Take it down? We already have a reply."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you started yelling about all the comments." Santana looked at her with a tired expression. "We can't take it down now... Then again, it hasn't gotten any other replies."
"So reply to the email, tell the person our address so we can set up an interview, and then take down the ad so we can look for serious candidates," Rachel said as she slid out of her seat to busy herself in the kitchen.
"...I still like this version of the ad," Santana muttered. "If they can't get our humor, they shouldn't want to live with us."
"There is a difference between our humor and you being drunk, Santana."
Santana read over the email again now that she had talked to Rachel. It was brief.
Hi!
I saw your ad - if you're still looking for a roommate, I'd really like to be considered. I'm a dance major at Julliard. I really really LOOOOVE the Little Mermaid. And I'm so sorry... I'm not asian. But I have a super cute cat named Lord Tubbington. Let me know if I can meet you guys.
-Lucky Biatch
Santana had laughed the first time she read it. The second time, she just smiled. She liked that the girl had responded to the commentary of their ad. It made it seem more like she was interested in them as people rather than just a low rent cost. But she wasn't completely sold on the cat. Sure, Quinn and Rachel wanted pets, but Santana had thus far only allowed a goldfish. His name had been Ben - he died a week after they set up his tiny one gallon tank. It had been empty ever since.
She quickly typed a response to the email, giving the girl their address and a time she was welcome to stop by that they would all be available.
"Rachel, what does Tina usually give me to help with a headache? It's not some weird chinese medicine thing, is it?"
"Santana, Tina is adopted, she's not that asian," Rachel said and set down a glass of water in front of her along with a bottle of medicine. "She usually gives you aspirin."
"Right," Santana said quietly.
"You told her to come over tonight?" Quinn said, exasperated. "How were you even sure we'd all be here? Or that she'd respond back?"
"Mondays are the only weekday we're not all busy in the evening," Santana said. "And I'm not getting up at butts o' clock to meet some stranger wanting to live with us."
Quinn's lips pursed together to hold her tongue. A cranky Santana was definitely worse than coming home with hardly any time to prepare for an interview. She had wished she had more time to clean up - not that Santana was doing anything to help.
"Get up," Quinn barked. "You could at least help."
"She's not gonna care if there are dishes in the sink, Quinn," Santana said. "All she's gonna care about is that there is a vacant room and wireless internet."
"Even though I agree with Quinn that you should be helping more, Santana, I think you have a point," Rachel said. "And I'd much rather have a casual setting than some unrealistic expectation that our apartment will be perfectly clean all the time."
"It would be perfectly clean all the time if Santana didn't do what she's doing right now!"
Santana stared up at Quinn from the couch, a bag of potato chips tucked next to her sprawled out body, her arm hanging over the side of the cushion onto the floor and her long dark hair cascading at a similar angle. She had been watching TV until Quinn's sudden appearance blocked her view, but she was doing her best to pretend she had x-ray vision and see what was going on via sound.
"Move your caboose," Santana said, flicking a potato chip at Quinn. Her eyes widened for about half a second before they narrowed.
"Oh no you didn't, Lopez," Quinn hissed. Santana stared up at her and then tapped her chest from her half hanging position off the couch, making the threatening 'bring it' gesture while still looking so casually lazy it must have been hard to take seriously. But that was probably what made it all the more surprising when Quinn lunged at her.
"Don't say that!" she shouted, crashing down on the latina with all her weight. Santana had managed to rescue the bag of potato chips in time, but gasped out as Quinn pinned her to the couch.
"N-nice way... of reenforcing that, Fabray. By sitting on me. With. Your. Caboose."
"You're gonna get it, Santana!"
The shouting made Rachel rush into the room. The tone of their voices was loud and terrifying, like that one time they got in a cat fight in high school over the head Cheerio position and Santana's breast implants. "Girls-" Rachel started, but she didn't seem to be able to say much else as Quinn had suddenly started tickling Santana.
"Stop! Fabray! I. Can't. Breathe! Get. Off!" Santana shrieked between laughs, kicking at her best friend until she managed to wriggle free. "Fine... I'll... go... do the dishes..."
"Yeah, you better, Lopez," Quinn called after her with a laugh. There was a small buzz that made all three girls freeze. Silence for a moment, then, another buzz.
"Is that our doorbell?" Rachel asked.
"Dang, lucky bitch is early," Santana said, looking over at the clock on the microwave.
"I'll get it. San - your hair," Quinn said, pointing up at her forehead before dashing to the buzzer to let up the prospective new roommate.
I stood outside pressing the buzzer for the apartment, and after a few rings, I was scared I had written down the address wrong. I began fumbling with my pockets to find my phone so I could check my email to be sure when suddenly a soft voice came from the box.
"Hello?"
"Uhm, hi!" I said as cheerfully as I could. "I'm Brittany? I responded to your craigslist ad this morning?"
"Brittany? Okay. I'll buzz you in. You know the number?"
"313, right?"
"Okay."
The buzzer went off, indicating the door unlocked. I pushed it open and wandered into the lobby. It was really nice - a lot cleaner and better maintained than the lobby to my apartment complex. The mailboxes all had key locks to them - mine had a combination I could never remember. I suppose I could just as easily lose the key, but I thought it was a more effective system. I made my way to the elevator and pressed the third floor once I was in.
As I ascended, I suddenly started to feel nervous, even if the voice on the intercom had sounded so sweet and kind. What if they didn't like me? Or if it was a scam? I jumped when the elevator door opened. Why was I being such a scaredy cat? I'm Brittany S. Pierce. I can do this.
I was just gathering my confidence back together when the door to apartment 313 opened as I stepped up to it. All that courage I had gathered up pretty much shattered and I stared doe-eyed at the blonde girl in the doorway.
"Are you Brittany?" she asked. I recognized her, but I wasn't sure where from.
"Q, let her in," a voice called. It sounded familiar as well. Not familiar like I'd heard it all the time, but just... like I had heard it before. On a show or the radio or something.
"Yes, I am," I answered to the blonde. She looked at me quizzically, and the door opened a bit wider so she could gesture me in. Once I was inside, I froze again. I kept getting caught off guard. There was the latina, her attention directed to a mirror hanging on the wall as she played with her hair. And the short brunette... she was wearing pink pajamas with bunnies on them. She looked completely bizzare, but then I remembered. I remembered those brightly colored work out clothes. That was it. I recognized all of them from Mike's dance class.
"Oh," I said before the three said anything. The latina had just turned to greet me, but stopped short at the sight of me. Did she recognize me? For a moment, I swear she did, but then she spoke.
"I'm Santana," she said, her brow pinching slightly. She turned and waved at the brunette and then the blonde. "Rachel, Quinn."
"O-okay," I nodded. I tried to recompose myself, I really did. But I think my eyes gave me away - they tend to do that.
"Are you alright?" Rachel asked.
"I'm fine," I nodded. "I was just... confused. Uhm... this is such a nice apartment. I'm sorry if it seems forward, but did I read the ad right?"
"You mean the amount we're asking for rent?" Quinn said with a laugh. "Yeah, it's the right amount. We all pay a bit more, but that's because our rooms are bigger."
"So you're a dancer?" Santana asked sharply. Her eyes narrowed, and I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under her gaze.
"I am. I'm a student, but I also teach at Dark Dance Studios over-"
"-on 5th avenue?" Rachel said. "Oh! I knew we recognized you."
"You did?" I said, puzzled.
"Hold up," Santana said. "You work with Mike?"
"I do," I nodded.
"Mike Chang."
"Yes."
"Mike Chang of Cohen-Chang-Chang?" Santana stared at me with her arms crossed. Was this a test? I was so confused.
"Stop scaring her, Santana," Quinn sighed. "Just because she knows Mike doesn't mean she knows Tina. Sorry, Brittany. Mike is a friend of ours from high school - his girlfriend is - or was - our roommate. The one we're trying to replace."
"Oh. Oh. So, uhm," I started, but I really didn't know what to say. "This is a weird interview. You're not going to ask me to dance, are you?"
"Dance?" Rachel asked.
"It's one of the roommate requirements," Santana said, her lips cracking into a smile. I was glad she did. So far, she had been the one that made me the most nervous. "So check, dancer girl has a job. Meaning steady income, meaning rent will be on time. Right?"
I nodded.
"She can dance, obviously, since she works with Mike. What else was on the list?" Santana asked, and Rachel stood up, shuffling around the island in the kitchen I could see from the living room.
"Uhm... I don't smoke," I said, scrunching up my face as I tried to remember what was on the list.
"Okay, check," Santana said, taking the list from Rachel. "You said you have a cat in the email?"
"His name is Lord Tubbington," I nodded.
"Adorable," Quinn and Rachel said in unison. Santana glanced at them one at a time before sighing.
"Okay... Ah, break out musical performances. Shit, did we really write that?" Santana's nose wrinkled.
"So do I have to sing?"
"This isn't an audition, Brittany, it's okay. Sorry, we were sort of drunk when we put up the ad," Quinn explained, lowering her gaze to the ground. She looked sort of embarrassed, but I didn't know why. I loved the ad.
"Okay," I nodded.
"If these losers give you chores to do, you promise to do them?" Santana said.
"Of course - unless it's something weird. I don't have to do other people's laundry or anything, do I?"
"Ew, no," Santana said, but smiled again. I liked it when she smiled. She looked back down at the list and made a clicking sound with her tongue. "I'm sorry, girly. You ah gots ta go." She pointed her hand towards the door.
"What?" I was taken aback by how direct she was.
"Yeah, says here you gotta be asian," Santana shrugged, but then her sly eyes met mine and she smirked.
"Who says I'm not?" I asked. Santana froze, her smirk disappearing as her lips pursed together. I thought for a second my joke had been misinterpreted, but then her head tilted back and she let out a loud laugh.
"I like her," Santana said immediately. I smiled and looked back and forth between Quinn and Rachel.
"I was fine with her the moment she said she worked with Mike," Quinn said honestly.
"Same, I think we just wanted to make sure you passed the Satan test," Rachel said, snatching at the list in Santana's hand. The latina pulled it away and slapped the brunette's hand with the rolled up pad of paper.
"So... does that mean...?"
"You can move in with us, if you want. Unless you think we're too weird. You haven't even seen the room yet," Santana laughed. "Come on, we'll show you around."
The apartment was literally perfect. When you walked in from the front, you could either head straight and go upstairs, or veer right to the living room. Past the living room was a sizable kitchen that had a dining room to it's right and a washroom past the pantry to the left. Up stairs consisted of the four bedrooms and a bathroom. There was also a bathroom beneath the staircase, but it was tiny in comparison.
Tina's old room was smaller, but still large enough to be more than accommodating. Like the ad had said, there was a desk and a dresser, both matching, and a vacant space where a bed used to be. Santana explained that Tina took it with her because Mike was still sleeping on a twin size, otherwise she would have left it. Across from the door, there was a large window. Santana leaned forward, struggling for a minute with the clasp, and then shoved it open.
"Your room and my room have access to the fire escape," she explained, waving for me to step forward to take a look down. "You scared of heights?"
I shook my head.
"Good, 'cause Quinn and I sometimes drink out here," she smiled. "Berry's too scared."
"Fire escapes are for emergencies," Rachel said from the doorway. "And what if I drop my phone? Or fall?"
"Lady Gaga danced on a fire escape," I said with a shrug. "It can't be that dangerous if you're supposed to use it for an emergency."
"I- I suppose so," Rachel said.
"Great, so you'll come out?" I said, lifting my leg up and through the window. Santana caught me by the shoulder. Her grip was firm, but also somehow soft.
"We're not technically supposed to hang out there, we usually wait until the evening so our landlord doesn't see," she explained and I pulled my leg back.
"Oh, okay. Maybe later, then?" I was a little disappointed, but I didn't want to get in trouble either. "Speaking of the landlord, do I have to uhm... sign any paperwork?"
"Quinn has the apartment in her name - we all pay rent to her, sign a roommate agreement contract thing," Santana nodded. "We can go do that now? Unless you wanna look around some more first."
"Uhm, can... can I have a moment to myself? This is all a bit overwhelming," I said sheepishly. I was super glad they wanted me to be their roommate after such a quick interview, but I needed a moment to think it over.
"Oh," Santana said quietly. She looked kind of surprised, like someone had snuck up on her, but she nodded. "Yeah, we'll be in the kitchen, take your time."
The three girls walked out, leaving the door open and me alone in the empty bedroom. I looked around slowly, taking in the space again now that I was by myself. I dropped to the ground and sprawled out across the soft white carpet. There was a fan on the ceiling I hadn't noticed before. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. It was weird. Different. But nice. And good. I still wasn't sure if it was legitimate though. Something made me uneasy about the apartment.
No, it wasn't the apartment. It was the people living here. They were all so friendly and nice, but that was just it. They were friends - a tight knit bunch. They said Mike went to high school with them - did that mean Tina did too? Was I going to fit in with them? I hope so - I bet they want someone that will be able to fill in their old roommate's role. I don't know if I can do that.
After a few minutes of just lying there, I sat up. I dug my phone out from my pocket and flicked it open.
"Do you think it's weird we left a stranger to be alone in Tina's room?" Rachel asked, grabbing a handful of Sun Chips.
"I think I'd need to gather my thoughts if I were her," Quinn said. "I mean, we kind of jumped the gun, a bit, offering her the room, don't you think?"
"I don't, she's funny," Santana said. "And she works with Mike. In fact, if you're that concerned, let's call him right now."
"Alright." Quinn reached for her cell phone and dialed Mike's number. She immediately switched to speaker phone and it rang twice before Mike answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mike!" the three said in unison.
"Woah, hey ladies! Looking for Tina?"
"No, we're calling to talk to you," Rachel said.
"Yeah, to ask you about your co-worker, Brittany," Santana said.
"Oh?" He sounded confused. "Sorry, girls, I don't follow. How do you know Brittany?"
"She's going to be our new roommate," Santana said.
"Potential roommate," Quinn corrected. "That's why we called - she seems nice enough, but I don't know... can we trust her?"
"Is she fun?" Santana asked. "Please tell me she's not a stick in the mud and will get pissed if I come home plastered."
"Uhm, I've only been working here for like... a week and a half, guys. But from the few times I've met her, she's pretty great. Everyone here loves her - students, our boss, even some of the parents. And I don't think she'll be a stick in the mud, Santana. She invited me to get drinks my first day, but I had a date with Tina."
"See? She has Mike's stamp of approval," Santana said.
"Oh, hang on- Another call. Huh, speak of the devil."
"Who?" Quinn laughed. "Brittany?"
"Yeah, I'll call you guys back." And then he was gone. Rachel and Quinn exchanged looks as Santana snickered and scrambled out of the kitchen to head towards the stairs.
"Hello?" Mike's voice answered. He sounded like he was or had just been laughing.
"Hi, Mike! It's Brittany Pierce, from work?"
"I know, I have you in my phone. What's up?"
"This might sound kind of weird, but... I'm uhm... I'm looking to rent a room with some of your uhm... students? Friends?" I smacked my hand to my forehead. I sounded really dumb on the phone. "The thing is, I don't know if I should. The price they're asking for is great, and the room is bigger than the one I have, and everything is just like... way too perfect."
"So many pros, you're scared there aren't any cons?"
"Uhm, no, maybe. I don't know. I think they have expectations of me to be like... their new best friend. No, maybe not quite that, but... I'm just not sure. I don't know if I'm the kind of person they'd be friends with."
"Brittany, you're over thinking it. For all four of you, it'll be a transition, not just you or them. They know they're losing Tina, and they know they can't expect you to replace her. And for the record, the fact that Santana is the one pulling for you most means you did something right."
"What?" I stared blankly at the wall in front of me. "How do you know that?"
"Seems like all of you are kind of nervous - they just called me to do a background check on you."
"Really?" I laughed. I was a bit relieved - it was strange that they had just decided it was okay that I move in. I wondered what he meant about Santana pulling for me. "What did you tell them?"
"That you're an axe murderer and expert stalker." He laughed when I gasped jokingly. "I'm kidding. I told them the truth - that you're really great to work with and that everyone here loves you."
"You really think that? We don't even work any shifts close together!" I giggled. "How could you know me well enough to vouch for me?"
"I don't, but I have great hunches. Anyway, don't worry about it too much. Take some time to think about it, if you're that worried, but honestly Brittany, I think you'll really like them. We were all in Glee club together - they might not look it because they're so close now, but we were a real rag tag bunch. Strange as they come. They won't hate you."
"Thanks, Mike."
"No problem. All good?"
"Yeah. I shouldn't keep them waiting. I'll call you later?"
"You're still at their apartment? Haha, yeah, I'll talk to you soon. Bye, Brittany."
"Bye," I said and clasped the phone closed. I stood up and quickly ran to the open door, but skidded to a halt when I nearly bumped into the three girls that were pressed up against the wall of the hallway.
"Oop!" I managed to stifle the shriek. The four of us stood wide-eyed at one another for a moment.
"Well, don't we look like a bunch of idiots," Santana said, shoving Rachel off her as she stood from her crouched position. "And I'll be the first to say you're not replacing Tina."
I gulped. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes were sharp as knives. Even with Mike's reassurance that Santana liked me, she kept confusing me with that piercing gaze. She crossed her arms and let out a little 'huff' and then smirked.
"No one will be replacing Tina - you don't replace friends you still have. You make new ones," she said, her brow raising slightly, and her smirk softened. "Now come on, will you? Let's go over the contract, and then you can take it home with you and make the decision later if you're still worried."
Quinn and Rachel both gave me reassuring smiles as they turned to head back downstairs after Santana. I stood still for a second longer, my heart still pounding in my chest like I'd run a marathon. Why was I so nervous? It wasn't from bumping into them. It was the way Santana had looked at me. Like she wasn't sure what to do with me. To be honest, I wasn't so sure myself. But then she would say the nicest things. I didn't have to be their new Tina. They wanted to take me in for who I was. It was like they had gone to the pound, and instead of a dog, they got me.
"I want to live here," I said from the top of the stairs. The three of them looked up. "If you'll have me, I mean."
"We've already said we did, loser," Santana said. "Now get down here before Rachel starts singing with joy and forces us to join in."
"I thought you guys liked doing that," I said as I jumped down step by step. I couldn't help it, I was excited. Santana waited for me at the bottom, and I could tell by the way her shoulders shook, she was trying to hold back a laugh.
"Oh, I don't mind singing. I do, however, mind her music selection," Santana said.
"I'll sing Poor Unfortunate Souls with you, if it helps," I said when I got to the bottom step and was level with her. She couldn't hold back the laugh any longer.
"Yeah, we can do that," she grinned and then pressed her palm against my back. Her other hand matched it and she pushed me forward. We could hear Rachel start singing something from the kitchen.
"Time... is never time at all, you can never ever leave... without leaving a piece of youth-"
"Oh god, there she goes," Santana laughed.
"And our lives are forever changed," Quinn joined in, holding up a spatula as a microphone. "We will never be the same. The more you change the less you feel."
"Believe... believe in me," Rachel sang back.
"Believe," Santana managed to giggle out. "Believe that life can change, that you're not stuck in vain."
"We're not the same, we're dif-fah-reeeeent... toniiiiight!" They started singing in unison, and I must have looked so stunned. They all had amazing voices.
"Toniiight," Quinn sang softly. Rachel pressed her back up against Quinn's and joined in, "Tooniiight, so bright!"
"Toniiiiiiiight," Santana jumped in, gesturing for me to join in. "Tonight."
I paused, looking between the girls as they laughed and giggled. This must be what they meant in the ad about impromptu performances. But how could it be unrehearsed? They all sounded amazing. No, amazing was an understatement. I didn't think it was possible for people not on the radio to sound this good. I was hesitant to join in, but their merriment was infectious.
"And you know you're never sure..." I sang quietly, swaying back and forth. I tucked my chin down as I looked at them shyly. "But you're sure you could be right-"
Santana grabbed my hands and pulled me around to spin in a circle. I think anyone else would have been unprepared, but for me, dancing was easy. I laughed as she twirled me and joined me in the next line. "-if you held yourself up to the light."
"And the embers never fade," she sang.
"In your city by the lake," I managed to sing without laughing to much. "The place where you were born."
"Belieeeeeeve," we all shouted. "Believe in me! Belieeeeeeeeeve! Believe!"
Author's Note: I honestly didn't expect to add any singing or songs to this, just because I am horrible at coming up with music that is appropriate. But it just kind of wrote itself into the story. We'll see if it happens again. Tonight Tonight - Smashing Pumpkins. This was the first time I ever heard this song, so uhm, I'm not sure if it's a good song or not.
