Chapter 3: The Owl Eyes

"It tastes like pink!"

Super-drunk, super-heroine Rachel Berry zoomed over the ledges along the road pavements, right heel knocking at the left as she stumbled across with a bottle of white champagne in her hand. It was a game that they played, pretending to be superheroes – everyone was allowed to be a super you. Elliot and Kurt took the lead in the party's valiant march down the streets of New York City, flaunting a haughty flair that smashed through the darkness of the night.

"It tastes like p-"

Dani yanked her back into formation and let out a short burst of nervous laughter. "Ray, I know your super-voice can break through walls and stuff, but your broadway tunes aren't going to help you with the street thugs around here, so please-"

"Shut up!" Drunk, slurred words materialised beside the sober rockstar, and a heavy arm hung around her neck. She could practically taste the whiskey and coke in the warm breath that touched the bare skin of her neck.

Of course, who could it be but the Les-bionic to make her feel drunk with attention despite not even feeling the slightest bit of a buzz?

"It's just the start of the winter / And I'm all alone / And I've got my eye right on you,"

It was a surprising coherent addition to the garbled voices that choked the summer air. The lyric rang strong and clear to Dani; she whipped her vision backwards (which, regrettably, pushed Les-bionic away), putting herself in a dizzy spell. However, what caught her dark eyes was BKS unconsciously – albeit drunkenly – doo-wopping and skee-dipping to another one of the songs from the back of her unicorn mind.

"Give me a coin and I'll take you to the moon / Give me a beer and I'll kiss you so foolishly,"

A retort belted from between Dani's lips, and she couldn't help but send a sheepish grin towards her direction. The slurring mess in the background echoed through the night sky (even the stars went to hide); Sam rushed over to the corner of an alley to spew up whatever hard alcohol he had taken in as Blaine giggled and Puck guffawed at the fallen hero. Rachel went ahead on another rant about Funny Girl (and tearing slightly about Finn), while Quinn held her hand and swung them in a synchronised rhythm to their footsteps.

They lost the Asian Duo sometime ago.

"Like you do when you lie, when you're not in my thoughts,"

"Like you do when you lie and I know it's not my imagination."

BKS applauded giddily, "You sing better than the cricket that sings to me when I wake up in the morning. He doesn't have blue hair and wear shiny leather jackets, but he does have a bling-ring."

"You're not so bad yourself with those dancing shoes," With a cocked eyebrow, Dani's eyes darted down at her kitten flats. The ears flapped rigidly upwards, making them look eerily alive. "Moves like those could get you far in New York."

"You really think so?"

"I think if you love something, go for it."

A modest grin broke across BKS's doll-face, her blue star eyes shining like northern stars as they momentarily – just the quintillionth of a second – shot towards the drunk and staggering Les-bionic. The Feeling gurgled slightly, bubbling like bad medicine in her stomach, as Dani pretended not to recognise the undeniable connection between Santana and Brittany.

"I want a horse; I'll teach him to believe in magic and he'll grow a horn, become a unicorn and poop rainbow colours."

"How about I find you a gay rhinoceros, they're pretty much the same thing. Sort of, I think."

BKS clapped her hands together, face lighting up with the burning brightness of a million universal stars. She was so pure, so refined, and so transparent – it was like looking at a smudge-free mirror, a reflected image of yourself that appeared more real than surreal. Despite her guileless panache, the way that she saw people was more accurate than when Dani threw darts – spot-on, and right on the bull's eye.

But like a mirror, BKS was fragile to rough-handling.

"Seeing Santana makes my heart dance, and then my feet dances because they're connected."

Dani simply smiled with sober sobriety.

-(invisible line break)-

Over the next course of days, business was as usual at the Spotlight Diner. Dani was increasingly spending more and more time being a waitress, part-time bandmate of One Three Hill and full-time rockstar, leaving virtually no time for herself. She figured that there was only twenty-four hours in a day, so why waste one of it mourning over losses?

The Glee Club, or Unison of Gleesome (as she liked to call them after their drunk night and hangover morning), showed up periodically throughout the entire day – Artie would roll his way in with Blaine, who only comes when Kurt was around; Puck and Quinn would arrive sometime in the late afternoon, smelling of hotel room bedsheets and summertime love; Mike and Tina would sway themselves towards the corner booth in sync; Mercedes would show up nightly with her fuax-huahua and Blaine, once again.

"Hey Dani," Rachel sashayed over, putting her elbow on the counter and eyeing the girl with curiosity. "When was the last time you went out?"

Continuing with the mundane pumping of filling ketchup and mustard bottles, Dani shrugged easily. "I'm out right now, aren't I?"

"I mean out-out, as in just for fun."

"One Three Hill rehearsals are fun,"

The broadway diva made a squelching noise with her mouth; the hand on the counter had been withdrawn to her side and a look of incredulous annoyance washed over her face. But what Rachel was trying to say was true, Dani had internally accepted it without a doubt. The latter was slowly becoming anchored to her work and sinking down under, with only a half-empty tank of oxygen strapped onto her back.

Rachel clicked her tongue. "You should come with us tonight; we're going to this place over at Madison Square. It's an open mic, open-stage and they let anyone and everyone to make impromptu performances. You should come – it'll be fun! We can totally do a broadway number together."

Broadway was never Dani's niche – it had always been everyone else's that she had surrounded herself in. Heck, even Elliot could pull it off, with his melodramatic élan that would hypnotise people of all sexualities in the theatre. In high school she had never actually paid much attention to the glee club, truthfully, because they always lost out to Vocal Adrenaline or Throat Explosion or New Directions.

High school seemed so far away, except for the whole basement she-bang. The only thing she remembered about being an angsty teenager was playing guitar in her room and playing competitive lacrosse to vent out her anger.

"Broadway is not my thing, sorry."

"Come on," Grabbing the filled bottle of ketchup and fastening the cap, Rachel whined as she waved to Blaine as he entered through the diner doors. "Brittany said you danced."

"Back when I still fit in my baby ballet shoes, maybe."

"Come anyway – please? If you won't dance then we can perform something else that's more rockstar and more you... we'll give you the whole Glee Club experience."

But what Rachel didn't know was that sure, Dani was a supreme rockstar, but at times that wasn't all that she did. High school was a place where people defined themselves (the geeks or the freaks) and she was one of those lost ones who tried out anything and everything but was still largely displaced in the end. Even today she wasn't absolutely sure where she was going.

Working in a diner for two years already really said something about the direction that she was heading in.

"Any drum sets there?"

The black box was called 'The Audition Amphitheatre'. Certainly, it wasn't what Dani had expected – the talented nobodies who filled the myriad black glossy seats were not all the broadway enthusiasts that would chop heads off just to watch Funny Girl in the front-row seats. They were much more distinct, and much more alternative than the current circle of gleeful individuals around her.

Her hair wasn't even conspicuous here, because there were the platinum blond, mossy green, electric blue, wine red, and every other shade of the rainbow shining like a rare constellation.

Dani sighed. There was something about this place that made her feel at home. Maybe it was the dark stage or the interesting crowd of musicians, but she felt at ease here. Hidden in the darkness, all people would hear would be her voice alone.

The Glee Club shrieked delightedly; as always, Rachel hurried over to the stage, head held high and ready to flaunt the phenomenal power of her voice and wow every god-damn person in the dark theatre. She hadn't even reached the stage pedestal before it was taken by an offbeat group of college girls.

In the seat behind Dani, Santana whispered to Brittany that the redhead was "making my lady parts jingle."

"Her hair looks like caramel and I want to eat it,"

At the Audition Amphitheatre, there were no introductions of names and no minutes of empty silence. Something was always going on; if you were good – or even interesting – enough, people would come to you for your name. It was the matter of imprinting good impressions on the audience, but most particularly the constantly-seeking record label producers who laid awaiting like hungry sharks in the sea of masses.

These girls put the alt- in alternative. In fact, they were an accurate all-female version of Rachel and Kurt's Glee Club.

An explosive harmonised mash-up reverberated against the padded walls of the theatre; Dani felt a competitive vibe from the others, and she figured that this was probably a deja vu situation for them. Perhaps this was what glee club, regionals and nationals and whatnots were about – being in the murderous mentality and wanting to slaughter anyone who were able to sing Happy Birthday.

And she couldn't keep her eyes off of the brown-haired lead, who wore too much eyeliner not to be lesbian (as Santana would say). Surely enough, her hispanic ex was fully aware of this, and showed her sheer contempt by snapping surly comments at Brittany about their "distasteful dance moves that insults the feminism advancement."

Rachel rose tensely, a bullet loaded and ready to be fired. "Come on guys, let's show them how this is done."

"Are you serious?" They were good, Dani understood, and this was a casual outing, so why was Rachel turning this evening into an all-out massacre?

The two musical groups brushed past each other and exchanged death glares. Of course, trust a hotheaded diva like Berry to turn a night of casual fun into a Hunger Games scenario. Dani rolled her eyes.

"Try not to die," Eyeliner Lead winked and deliberately brushed her arm against hers. "And at least try to look like you're having fun."

"Oh, walk away, Owl Eyes."

"(Santana, shut up!) Yeah, no... yeah... nah."

Owl Eyes flashed an amused smile. "Try, for me. Dazzle me."

Dani's breath hitched and her voice pitch rose slightly. Something was going on and she didn't like any bit of it; this stranger wore herself with some confidence and a snark that reminded her too strongly of a white Santana that caked on eyeliner like it was eyeshadow. Her hand unconsciously travelled through her rough hair and she almost choked.

Well, this was embarrassing.

"Why should I?"

"You interest me," Again, Owl Eyes winked, but this time with a smirk that sat comfortably on her scarlet lips. They smelled like the green apples chap-stick. "Good luck."

"Okay,"

Somewhere behind Dani, Santana brooded and mentally staged an elaborate "accidental" death for Owl Eyes.

She finally got the infamous Glee Club experience that Rachel mentioned in the diner before; to be honest, Dani felt slightly out of place. There were the occasional swaying in the background and humming vocals as she attempted to figure out how these people could spontaneously jump on the stage and perform any random song pristinely. This was harder than the calculus exam she failed in in her junior year.

But man, she had to admit that these kids had a whole lot of talent. Brittany danced with such grace that fire echoed every step that she took, body manoeuvring in ways that, as Dani believed, only NYADA dancers could. It was not to be distracted by her; then again, so were the intense bursts of energy-exchanges between Santana and Brittany.

Sometimes she found herself stranded in between their exchanges and stumbled to catch onto their little dance number.

"Come on, OTH-style!" Kurt scream-whispered into Dani's ear, pulling her right to the edge of the stage and in full view of Owl Eyes's vision. She couldn't help but feel a slight sense of vulnerability.

Thank God – it was finally her turn.

"Call your girlfriend, I think it's time you talked / Give your reasons, say it's not her fault / But you just met somebody new,"

Owl Eyes flashed a knowing grin, body leaning forward with an excited anticipation that made Dani feel a smidgen of giddiness. At the same time, she could nearly taste the rage that Santana was fuming with, a smoking fire of irritation and jealousy (as Dani saw her odd behaviour as). The only time the Latina acted as so was when Dani was handling flirty customers at the diner, but still, the former had been her girlfriend.

She wasn't Santana's anymore, and clearly, it appeared that Brittany was beginning to take on the 'girlfriend' status, so what right did she have in being mad?

"Then you tell her that the only way her heart will mend / Is when she learns to love again / And it won't make sense right now / But you're still her friend / And then you let her down easy."

"Hey, you did well tonight."

"You're one to talk, stranger danger. When I saw your blue hair I thought you'd be singing some punk-rock I-hate-my-parents crap, but you didn't. Blow me away with Robyn instead."

"Me? I'm pretty sure the surprise here is you – rocking that eyeliner and an all-girls a cappella group? You shouldn't be calling the kettle black,"

"I got eyeliner game, and what does that have anything to do with being in an a cappella group?"

"I don't know, it's like putting a lesbian in some Christian convention?"

"So you think I'm a lesbian?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"You gotta stop answering my questions with more questions,"

"(Shut up, Santana, I'm talking to somebody!) A habit I caught from being in too many police situations."

"Is that a joke?"

"Take it as you want to,"

"Your friends seem adamant on you leaving. Will I be seeing you soon?"

"(Santana, just get the cab to wait for a bit!) Jesus Christ. Um, well, you don't live far do you?"

"Depends on how you define far; is Atlanta, Georgia considered far?"

"(Holy shit Santana, one more time, and I swear-) Atlanta? You came all the way here just to see me? I'm quite flattered."

"Sure, because they don't have smurfs back at home."

"Grow up. Anyway, I think I should go before my friend traumatically scars the cab driver by running through the walls."

"Legit uptight diva or just an ex?"

"Let's save fun conversation topics for the next time we meet,"

"Deal,"

"Deal."

Santana emerges from the doors. "Dani, the cab?"

"Okay already,"

Dani begins to stalk off, back to Santana and face to Owl Eyes. She almost trips but catches herself without anyone noticing except the two women she is sandwiched between.

"It's Becca, by the way. Becca over at the Hyatt,"

"Dani over at the Spotlight Diner. Yellow-pages me – good luck with that."

"Okay,"

#I'm not sorry. Welcome the Barden Bellas, bitches.

#It was an opportunity and I took it.

#This is is how a love rectangle (pentagon, later maybe?) is formed.

#Thumbs up for it-tastes-like-pink Rachel Berry and the entrance of jealous, sassy Santana?

#Respectively, songs used are Loving Strangers (Jocelyn Pook) and Call Your Girlfriend (Robyn).