Brittany's point of view.

At first glimpse, I thought she was beautiful, at second glimpse I thought she was stunning. I wasn't sure if I meant Santana, or her friend. I couldn't bring myself to address her as Santana's. I don't think I ever will be. It felt wrong because I was hers, and she was mine. That's how the world worked in my mind. Everyone looked beautiful; it was almost like this was a disguise for blind dates. Everyone was obviously trying for someone, Quinn for Rachel, Rachel for Quinn, Santana's friend for Santana, Santana for her friend, Eric for the ladies, and I, well I dressed up for myself.

We quickly got settled in on a table, I sat by Eric and Quinn, beside Quinn was Rachel, and in front of us, sat Santana and her dear friend.

"This is Eric, Eric wanted to meet all of you. Eric is um; my ex-boss, but we're good friends now." I said awkwardly as I felt Santana's stare sink into my face. I turned to look at Eric beside me. "This is Quinn and Rachel," I said gesturing to the two girls beside me, they exchanged smiles. "And this is Santana and uh," I paused I didn't know who she was.

"I'm Ellie." She said.

"Ellie." The name left a bitter taste in my mouth.


I saw the way they whispered to each other, I saw the way she would laugh at a private joke, I saw the two of them when it should have been I and her. I saw the way her eyes would glint with jealousy every time I flirted with Eric beside me. We were in a war with each other on different sides of the table. It was so obvious, and I was sure Rachel and Quinn could see bombs flying from each sides of the table.

"This is hell," I whispered to Eric beside me trying to be as flirtatious as I could. I pulled back and we both laughed.

"Excuse me, I need the toilet." Santana exclaimed. I wanted to stand up and follow her to the bathroom, but I couldn't because if I had said that I needed the toilet too then everyone would jump conclusions.

But as if on cue my phone started ringing and vibrating in my pocket, it gave me the perfect chance to be excused. I stood up and said "Excuse me, I need to take this."

I walked the other way that Santana did, but when I knew they couldn't see me anymore, I went to the bathroom. I didn't know what I would say, or what I would do, but I knew this was wrong and something had to be done because we were destroying each other.

I walked in and there I saw the blundering mess that Santana was. My heart sank and my guts deteriorated inside of me. She was on the floor, head tucked between her knees.

Instead of running over to her, to comfort her, I stood still on the spot, wondering what I should do.

"Hey." I said.

At first, I thought she wasn't going to say anything or do anything. But eventually she got up and went to stand in front of the mirror to straighten herself out and re-do her makeup.

"Are you alright?" I said dumbfounded.

"What would you care?" I flinched at the harsh tone of her voice. I looked down at my feet underneath me. "This isn't right." She hissed. "This is messed up! Seeing you, you there, all over Aaron or what's his face! And me, me with Ellie, this is... this is just, just. " I looked up to meet her burning eyes.

"What do you want me to do? I can't just sit back and watch the fucking show." I hissed back. "Do you want me to just sit back and watch because I might as well have never come back." Funny how things can sound okay in your head.

Her posture softened, and her facial expressions softened. She turned back to face the mirror and continued fixing her makeup. So I stood there, waiting. Waiting for nothing and everything.

I turned around to leave, but just as I was about to push the door open, I paused.

"I'm sorry." I whispered.

And then I walked out and made my way back to the table, all the while realising that I had not even bothered to answer the call.

"Are you alright Brittany?" Eric asked. "Britt baby?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it was just my estate agent, no biggie." I smiled.

It had been at least 5 minutes ago when I last saw Santana, Santana hadn't come back yet and I was beginning to worry.

Ellie's phone started buzzing on the table, my head instantly turned to the device I stared at it intently, wondering when Ellie was going to answer. When she finally did, I watched her face, the way her face slowly creased when she read the message (She hadn't picked it up, so common sense says it's a text).

"Sorry guys, Santana's gone home, she says she doesn't feel too good." Ellie said standing up. "Better make sure she's alright." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a purse, she took some money out and placed it on the table. "Here's mine and Santana's share. Thanks guys, I had fun tonight." She smiled, her whole face brightening. She was beautiful.


There was nothing and there was everything. Silence. There was ringing in my ears – the voices of tomorrow, the voices of the future echoing in my head. Each tick and each tock of the clock, made itself known more and more as each second ticked by. The shallow breath I breathed and the slight rubbing of skin as I lifted my hands to capture the falling tears on my cheek were the only known sounds fighting my silence. I stayed still as best I could until I could no longer hold. And then it was fast. The moaning wail that scratched itself from my throat pinched my ears, water beneath my body slished and sloshed, and then I was in my room, alone with silence again. My eyes focused on the phone on my lap, I didn't know what was happening, and I didn't know what I was doing. Maybe I was going insane.

Was I to do the right thing, or the wrong thing? Which one is right, and which one is wrong? Why must I have to make all the decisions? I could feel the trail that my wail took, the tough and rough feeling inside my throat burned. Slowly, my hands moved towards the phone, slightly shaking I typed out a pattern of numbers that Santana may or may not be interested in, following that I typed up a word that came straight from my heart, sorry. I sent the message wondering if it was the right thing to do. And then I stood up, with my mind made that it was a mistake that I had come back. What was I going to do with the house I bought? Am I just going without a word or should I say goodbye? Did my friends really need me to say goodbye? I'm Brittany, I come and I leave because I don't have a place. I picked up the bag on the floor and I walked out. Out of the bedroom door, out of the front door and out of everyone's life. I'm sorry, I thought. I'm going, I'm going for good, I told myself.

Sorry you guys, I've just been so tired! And I've also had tons of homework to do along with hockey matches and 100 essays. Gahh, I'm sorry, I appreciate your feedback.