Mercedes yawned as she took a bigger swig of her coffee. She absolutely hated dance class for a multitude of reasons, but the first and foremost reason being the call time was 6 AM; on a Monday, no less. It wasn't normally so early, but the class space they used regularly was being unexpectedly repaired, and the only time open in the first available venue was at 6 AM. At least it was around the corner from her and Brody's townhouse.
"Who the fuck wants to dance at such an ungodly hour?" Mercedes grumbled to herself as she forked over the cash for her double-shot espresso mocha. She gave the barista a smile so that poor person didn't think they were the source of her consternation and ire. She waited for her change and stuffed the loose change in her bag. She made her way over to her roommate's table and plopped down in one of the empty chairs at the table.
Brody looked up at her over the rim of his cup and she could tell he was laughing at her. "I don't see anything funny here, B," Mercedes glowered at him. "What the fuck you are laughing at?"
Brody couldn't handle it anymore and laughed out loud this time. "You're normally so composed, but you look downright pissed. What's wrong, Cedes?"
"I'm a backup singer, Brody!" Mercedes exclaimed, jostling the hot liquid in her cup. "No backup singer needs to be on the floor getting flung to and fro. We're usually wearing black clothes, swaying to the music, standing in the back. Hence the moniker "backup" singer. Besides, no one wants to see my chunky ass dance anyway when they're supposed to be looking at Cassie."
"I'm not even going to justify that with a remark," Brody rolled his eyes at Mercedes.
Mercedes took another drink of her coffee, willing the caffeine to do its thing. She had to report to her studio in 20 minutes. She sat the cup down and sighed heavenly. "That's not the only thing that's bothering me though," she started, playing with the lid of the coffee cup.
"No kidding," Brody said in mock surprise. "What's wrong boo?"
"Matt cheated on me." Mercedes looked up from her cup and met Brody's eyes.
Brody opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. "Damn, girl. I'm sorry. That sucks. I know you were really hoping you guys would get married."
"That's part of it, yes. Every girl and Kurt dreams of the white dress and prince, but I'm not as hurt as I am absolutely fucking furious." Mercedes paused and took a sip of her coffee. "He had the nerve to fuck this girl in our bed. I know it's his house, but we bought that bed together since we had talked about me moving in after the lease you and I have is up in December."
"That's a bitch move," Brody affirmed, nodding his head. "Did you fuck him up?"
"No," Mercedes rolled her eyes. "I did the girl thing: ran from the room crying."
"Well, what does he have to say for himself?" Brody cocked his head waiting for the story. Mercedes and Matt's history was tortured, if nothing else.
"I have no idea. I haven't called him back. He's left messages, but I just can't bring myself to talk to him. I'm not afraid of him; I just don't want to do anymore crying over this fool. Know what I mean?"
Brody laughed. "Damn. This was a bad weekend for me to go out of town! I do know what you mean, though. Getting cheated on is like a club. There's a member inducted every minute." He took a drink of his herbal tea. "I assume Santana went Lima Heights Adjacent on him?"
Mercedes laughed and got a couple of stares from other early morning risers that looked like they hated life. "Actually, no. She came over, wiped my tears, and took me to a club to get me drunk or laid."
Brody raised his hand. "I vote for both. How'd it go?"
Mercedes banged her head against the table. "That's another fail. I met this beautiful man with this tight-ass body and these sexy lips. I mean, if he were a girl, they'd be easily considered dick-sucking lips." Mercedes shook her head and the memory of Sam.
"I'm straight and he sounds delicious," Brody signaled to the barista for another cup of tea. "So how was he?"
"I don't know," Mercedes exclaimed, almost yelling. "I pulled this whole "if you want me come find me" mysterious crap and left with Tana. He kissed me and I should have gone with my first instinct to just give him the panties. I didn't want to be "that" girl, but I may never see this man again. He looked like he'd be amazing in the bedroom."
"Cedes," Brody shook his head at her. "What the fuck you do that for?"
"I don't even know!" She drained the last of her cup and gathered her things. "I got to run. If I'm even a minute late Cassie will have my ass." She leaned over and gave her other best friend of 20 years a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you at home," Mercedes called out behind her and she ran for the exit and towards her rehearsal site.
She made her way across the street and flung open the door to NDFAA. She hurried towards the elevator and almost shrieked when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her ponytail was crooked, one of her pant legs was pulled up and the other was pulled down. "Well hell. No wonder people were staring. I'm a damn mess," she said aloud to herself. She quickly fixed the ponytail issue by changing her mind and pulled her natural curls into a loose bun at the top of her head and leaving a few tendrils free. Hopefully that'll soak up some of the sweat.
Mercedes pulled both of her pant legs down towards her calves and adjusted the waistband. As much as she hated them, the dance classes were paying off on her waistline. She hadn't felt this good about the way she looked in a long time. "Don't lose too much weight baby. Only dogs want bones." Matt used to say to her when she was feeling especially insecure about her figure. Fucking figures he would be in bed with "Brittany the Backup". Brittany was the choreographer and the main back-up dancer for Cassandra July, but that's not the only reason why she earned her nickname.
Now that she was satisfied with the way she looked, she pressed the 4 button to get to the fourth floor to meet Cassie. The doors opened straight into the rehearsal room; the ridiculously large, mirrored, obviously freshly waxed rehearsal room. This was way nicer than anything Now Hear This provided. She trotted over to Marley, which was the second of the three of Cassie's backup singers. "Where's Jake?" Mercedes asked, looking around for the ridiculously handsome last member of their trio.
"I'm not sure," Marley replied, already on the floor working on her stretches. "We drove in together today. He's probably across the street getting coffee or somewhere sleeping. He's not a morning person."
Mercedes laughed and joined Marley on the floor for stretches. "How's the wedding planning going?"
"I think we're just going to elope. We can't decide on anything except we just want to be married." Marley grinned at the thought of becoming Mrs. Jake Puckerman and then grimaced at the pain in her upper thigh. "Ugh, I don't bend that way as easily anymore."
"Get Jake to fix that for you," Mercedes winked, helping herself to a standing position. "Well, I can't say I blame you. Planning weddings suck. Glad I don't have to deal with that anymore."
Marley looked confused and stared as Mercedes. "Did you and Matt elope?" Her face brightened and she started clapping her hands.
"Close," Mercedes said with a wry grin. "We broke up!"
Marley's face fell in disappointment. "Oh, Honey. I'm so sorry. What happened?"
"Well, he doesn't get to fuck Brittany the Backup and marry me so I chose for him." Mercedes sighed heavily. "I'm not even sure it only happened the one time, but I honestly don't care at this point. I'm just done with him. I knew something wasn't right and now I'm glad I know before the "I do's" instead of after them."
Marley patted Mercedes' shoulder. "You'll find someone, girl."
Mercedes laughed. "I'll be fine as soon as I have hot sex with a random stranger."
As if on que, the door to the studio opened and in walked the prettiest Asian man Mercedes had ever seen in her life. He was tall and lanky, but Mercedes could see all of his perfectly-toned upper body through his tight, black tee shirt. His pants hugged his hips and butt as if they were made especially for him. "Good Lord," both Mercedes and Marley whispered at the same time.
"Who the fuck is that?" Marley whispered. "I bet he could make you forget about what's his name for the night!"
The gorgeous stranger blew a whistle to get everyone's attention. "Hey there guys!" he shouted. "My name's Mike Chang and I am one of the owners of the New Direction Fine Arts Academy. We really appreciate you rearranging your schedules and giving us a change today. Cassandra sent me to teach class today since your regular instructor couldn't make it. I've seen the video of what you all have been working on, and I feel I can get you to where Cassie needs you to be by the end of the week.
Mike crossed the room and flipped a few buttons. The sound of Cassie July's latest dance anthem pulsated through the speakers. "Let me see what you guys got," Mike shouted over the bass introduction. "Five, six, five, six, seven, eight!"
Mercedes was done. That three hour dance rehearsal felt more like twelve. She had never sweated so much in her lifetime. She hurt in joints she didn't even knew she had. She had to give it to him. Mike was fine as hell, but he was nothing short of a slave-driver. She was pretty sure they did the same eight steps for an hour so everyone could be perfectly in sync. She understood the tour kickoff was next week, but fuck. Could a girl get a five minute break and a bottle of water or something?
This time Mercedes got into the elevator not giving a shit what she looked like. Her cute curly bun was lopsided as hell, and the curls that got free were either sticking up all over the place or matted to her forehead with the glue her sweat had caused. She pressed the button for the first floor and her phone began to ring. She riffled through her bag until she found the singing, vibrating device. Lean on me, when you're not strong, Mercedes sang along until she could get it answered.
"Tana!" she shouted excitedly into the phone. "Hey, girl!"
"Mercedes, are you at the diner? I need coffee. Bad." Santana wasn't usually one for pleasantries, especially before noon, but since a girl has to eat, a girl has to work.
"I'm down the block. I can meet you for breakfast," Mercedes offered. "I just finished dance rehearsal. This fine ass dance instructor took over class today and he worked my ass off. I'm exhausted, but I'm starving. I can't sleep on an empty stomach and I'm for real going back to bed. 6 AM is bullshit."
"Word?" Santana smiled at her bestie's exuberance. Matt who? "He single?"
"That big ass gold band on his left hand says hell to the no. Lucky bitch whoever she is," Mercedes burst out laughing. "Hoping I see his ass again. He's worth getting out of bed for at 4:30 AM."
"I was just coming in at 4:30 this morning, who-"
"Tana!" Mercedes interrupted. "Last night was Sunday. What the hell – I mean who the hell were you doing?"
"I don't give a shit and hashtag SomeMoreYaBiz," was Santana's smart ass reply. "In due time, grasshopper. I'm about at the diner. Where are you?"
"I'm less than 2 blocks. See you soon." Mercedes disconnected her call and shoved it back into her bag. She started walking as fast as her over-danced, short little legs would carry her – she couldn't wait to dish with Santana and she was starving!
Her phone rang again and this time it was just the generic ringtone. Probably one of her voice lesson kids calling to cancel. Nothing was worse than lazy, hung-over college kids on a Monday. She wasn't ready to deal with that anyway. On the off chance it was Ed McMahon called to offer her the Publishers Clearinghouse 1 Million dollar prize, she attempted to dig her phone back out of her bag. In a split second, her phone, her bag, and her ass were sprawled out on the middle of the sidewalk. She bumped into either another human being or a brick wall.
"Oh, shit. I'm so sorry Miss!" The southern male voice exclaimed. "Let me help you up!"
"I can manage," Mercedes said, scrambling to her feet after picking up her things. "Thank you though, I-" Mercedes voice caught in her throat when she looked up to the clumsy, wannabe kind stranger.
"Sam?" she said at the same time he said "Mercedes?"
