And we have arrived. Thanks for all the reviews! As promised, I bring you the chapter. An extended one ;)
For those who asked, I envisioned Diego as a young Tyler Posey look alike.
Diego.
The name evokes a nagging thought at the back of Brittany's mind. A gut feeling brewing somewhere inside her. If she remembers correctly, that's also Rosario's brother's name. What a coincidence.
"That's a cool name." She tries for a casual conversation while helping the boy gather her belongings. "Where are you from, Diego?"
"Spain." Diego continues to smile with a glint in his eye. "It's not really that cool. There are millions with the same name as I am."
"What would you rather your name be then?"
"Batman." He grins. It's unique."
Brittany laughs, reaching for a stray hairbrush. "I don't think that would go well with any surname."
"I don't have one."
"What do you mean you don't, kid?" Brittany looks up at him with a puzzled expression. "So, it's like Adele? Or Beyoncé'?" She pauses, a serious look on her face. "Are you a popstar?"
"I wish but I'm not." Diego shrugs, chuckling. "My family just doesn't have one. Although we have the option of using our House name as a surname but I prefer not to."
"Huh." Brittany nods to herself. She's never met a kid who talks like this boy for his age. Even his laugh is more tactful than her entire body movement.
"So, you're a dancer?" Diego continues. Brittany looks up at him. He points to the ballet shoes peeking from her gym bag.
"I am. We're actually performing for the intermission later."
"Wow. That is impressive. I'll be looking forward to that, ma'am."
Brittany smiles. They finish gathering the rest of her belongings and stand up.
"Thank you," Brittany starts, slinging her gym bag around her body. "Diego. You didn't have to do that but thank you."
"Don't, please." He buttons his tuxedo. "I'm waiting for someone anyway so you've spared me immensely from boredom."
"Oh, cool. Who are you waiting for? Your parents?"
"My sister. We're attending this charity dinner together in place of our parents."
Brittany blinks. "Older or younger?"
"Older. There's only two of us."
Brittany squints her eyes at the boy. Look at that, his name is Diego and he also has a sister. Rosario's filthy rich and by the looks of this boy, so does he. He, or his family, wouldn't be invited in this kind of event if they weren't affluent. The kind of security around the kid doesn't let the thought rest easy either.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Brittany shakes her head with fervor. "N-No. I just remembered a friend from Spain who also has a younger brother named Diego. And well, she mentioned that her family's kind of a big deal in Spain. She's also the type to get invited to these things-"
"And you're wondering if your friend is my sister?" Diego cuts off her rambling, amused.
Brittany contemplates the silly thought and laughs at herself. "You're right. It's ridiculous."
Diego chortles, clasping his hands down and leaning his head slightly to the side. "My sister's name is Santana."
"Ah, then that settles it. She's definitely not my friend." She grins. "Although your sister's name is up there with the likes of Rihanna and Shakira."
"I will certainly relay that to her." Diego laughs heartily. "To be honest, you're the first person to ever claim that someone's friend is my sister. It's usually the other way around."
Brittany runs the analogy on her mind, looking like a fool solving a math equation. "That someone always claims to be your sister's friend?"
"Yes. For whatever purpose it may serve them. That sort of thing." He makes light of.
"Well then, I am honored." She jokes. "Out of curiosity and if you don't mind me asking, what do your parents do? Are they in showbiz?"
Diego looks at her in bewilderment. "N-No. Definitely not in showbiz. No one's ever asked me that before either."
"I'm hitting a lot of firsts here."
"You are, ma'am." He laughs. Brittany joins in. He speaks again, "My parents, let's just say, they help the Spanish government. My sister and I help out in foreign engagements, charity events like this one, and some formal dinners or social events that need attending to from someone in our family."
Brittany narrows her eyes, confusion reaching an all-time high. "So, what does that make them?"
"The King and Queen of Spain." Diego answers in a casual tone.
Brittany's eyebrows shoot up, eyes widen, mouth agape, and body completely frozen in shock. She attempts to say anything but words become sparse. The overprotectiveness of his security makes sense now.
"Miss, are you alright?" Diego asks her again, sounding like a broken record.
She blinks rapidly then clears her throat. "Y-Yes. I-I just uhmm-" She pauses, closing her eyes for a quick second. "Then that makes you…" She trails off, letting him fill in the blanks.
Diego only smiles in response.
"Oh shoot…" Brittany murmurs to herself. Not only did she engage in a casual conversation with apparently, the Prince of Spain. But she had also made fun of her sister's name, the freaking Princess! She even likened said Princess's name to goddamn Shakira, for God's sake! The horror, the embarrassment!
"There you are!" The familiar voice of Miss Hilda calls out a few feet away from them. They both turn to see her motioning for her to come closer. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Come on, you're late. We need to get you to hair and make-up."
"I wouldn't want to keep you anymore." Diego speaks up, gathering her focus again. "It's been a pleasure talking to you. I don't remember the last time I very much enjoyed a conversation with someone."
"L-Likewise. Uh… Sir?" She retorts, awkwardly curtsying.
"Just Batman is fine." Diego jests, playfully winking at her. He holds out a hand for Brittany. "It's so nice to meet you, Miss?" He motions for her to fill in, leaning forward.
"Brittany. Brittany Pierce." She says, shaking his hand.
In an almost comical fashion, Diego's eyes grow wide at the mention of her name. He blinks rapidly, eyebrows creasing together. Thunderstruck. He clears his throat and prepares to speak but Brittany beats him into it.
"You'll have to excuse me." She utters, motioning to her adviser still waiting for her.
"O-Of course." Diego stutters, still at a loss for words.
Brittany ponders to herself if it was she who said something wrong. She withdraws from his presence, aware that the prince has his eyes on her until now. She awkwardly pushes herself out of the little bubble the security guards made for them and follows Miss Hilda backstage.
This week has truly been one of a kind in her otherwise monotonous life. She came out to her loved ones. She spent the night with the most beautiful woman she's ever seen in her entire life. She received a personal invitation to audition to the dance company of her dreams. Then by her own dumb luck, she met the freaking Prince of Spain! Those are mere highlights of her week so far and surely, that last one takes the cake! Yet. One thing's for sure, Brittany thinks.
She cannot wait to tell Rosario all about it.
Santana had almost forgotten what it was like to be her in times like this.
As soon as she alights the limo, all eyes fall on her. She assumes her regal stance like reflex. She stands up straighter. Shoulders back. Holds her head high. Plasters a permanent smile on her face.
The immense attention on Santana could be attributed to the incessant shouting of the paparazzi trying their best to take photos of her, the bulging tower of bodies blocking everything attempting to make contact. It could not be helped since she's been absent from any kind of tabloid activity these past few months. Direct heirs to any royal family always amass large amounts of attention. The way she looks tantalizing in her red gown also helps.
Kurt leads the way to the museum's entrance, passing by slowly at the red carpet. There's no photo opportunity, her assistant insisted for security purposes.
The paparazzi stop mobbing her. They take their place behind the barricade set up for them at both sides of the room. The red carpet sandwiched between said barricades. Her bodyguards relax as well, giving her much leeway to move now.
The bright lights of the cameras never cease to shine upon her. The paparazzi's relentless shouting of "Santana, Santana!", "Santana, here!", "Princess, where have you been?!", "Your Highness, look here!", are all deafening. The lights, blinding. Dios mio, she thinks to herself. She really must have lost her mojo in the couple of months she took a vacation from this.
Santana surveys the vicinity again. She focuses on the people. A gentle wave here and there. She smiles back at some of the guests who greet her from afar. She stops a couple of times to shake hands with a few celebrities who become intimidated by her mere presence.
Momentarily, they enter the museum and make their short trip to the lobby. The previous dread of Brittany seeing her, or anyone in that dance troupe who's seen her around at school, sets in again. Santana sighs to herself as she walks alongside Kurt in the hallway of the museum.
"Still good?" Kurt whispers, eyes up front.
"So far, yes. You?"
"I almost died, to be honest." Kurt smiles. "Nothing like getting back on the horse, right?"
Santana chuckles. "Yes. Except there's no reins, no saddle, and the horse is jumping around high on drugs."
They turn to the corner leading to the lobby that serves as a waiting place for the guests. Great crowds congregate in the room. All of them having their own conversations in small groups. Some being introduced to others. Some drinking the complimentary champagne. Some pretending to listen.
Even from across the room, Santana can spot Diego having a serious conversation with someone. They make their way toward him. Definitely gathering everyone's attention as she passes by. She smiles at the few people who greet her but refrains from stopping to converse for now.
Diego turns to see her approaching. A look of relief and a subtle signal of his eyebrows for a rescue flashes on his face. "Ah! Hola Santana. I was just having a conversation with Prime Minister Burke." He motions to the man beside him.
Santana stops in front of them. Kurt trails, stopping a foot behind her. The guards blending in the crowd.
"Prime Minister Burke. It's pleasure to finally meet you." She utters, offering a handshake. A flash of bright light shine on them at the same time.
"Your Royal Highness." He retorts, shaking her hand and lowering his head in a quick motion. "The pleasure is all mine. I was just talking to Prince Diego about extending an invitation to visit Ireland in the future. We have so many attractions that I've been enumerating to His Highness. We can't forget about St. Patrick's Day too. You can never get Guinness like it is in Ireland. I can guarantee that." He rambles on proudly. He prepares to speak again, quickly gasping great amounts of air, when Santana cuts in to speak.
"That would be lovely. Neither of us have been there before. Perhaps you could give us a tour?"
"I'd be delighted to." He answers, then leans forward to whisper. "And maybe we could discuss some tourism matters as well?"
"Why not, Mr. Burke?" Santana clasps her hands low in front of her. "But no talks of business tonight, alright? Let's revel in a stress free environment for a little while."
"Of course." He grins, preparing to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to find my wife." He withdraws from their company.
Diego sighs. He whispers, "He would not stop talking. I thought he was choking on air. I ran out of things to say."
"It takes practice, little one." Santana winks. "You haven't waited long, have you?"
"I grew a few gray hairs but I'm fine."
Santana chuckles. "Nothing interesting so far?"
Diego turns serious. Santana perceives it. She glances over her shoulder and motions for Kurt to come closer.
"I ran into Brittany Pierce." Diego whispers to the other two.
She shares a panicked look with Kurt. "When? How?" She asks.
"Before I talked to Prime Minister Burke." He paused. "She crashed into my security and fell to the ground. I helped her with her things and had a brief conversation with her. I didn't know she was Brittany Pierce until she told me her name before she left.".
Kurt chimes in, "Did you say anything that could have given us away?"
"I-I'm not sure. She didn't know who I was. She asked a few questions and I told her I have an older sister then she became weird about it. She said she had a friend who has a younger brother named Diego too-"
"Brittany thought you are my-" She cuts herself off. "Rosario's brother."
"Yes."
"Well, she's not wrong about that." Kurt comments, shrugging. "Did she put two and two together?"
"No. She thought it was silly. She let it go when I told her my sister's name. Then she freaked out when she found out who I am then left. And that was it. I'm sorry, Santana. I should have asked her name from the start." He hangs his head low.
Santana bites her lip. If Brittany had let it go then they have not been found out. So far. They have yet to get to dinner and Brittany's almost at the cusp of learning the truth. Someone must have got it up there for her. This must be karma for all her shortcomings in life.
But still, she remains hopeful. The night is young. She's determined to get through it unscathed.
Santana smiles, placing a hand over her brother's shoulder. "No pasa nada, Diego. It's not your fault. It's alright."
Diego lets out a sigh of relief. "What do we do now?"
Santana and Kurt share a look. She speaks, "We focus on doing our jobs here. We wouldn't want to cause any trouble. Or cause anything to irk Mother."
Both men nod.
Santana turns to Kurt. "What's on my itinerary for tonight again?"
"Lots of people to meet. Tons of conversations to make. Plenty of artworks to see." Kurt says. He fishes his phone out of his coat pocket and reads from it. "There are lots of guests who are dying to talk to you tonight. The New York Governor is waiting to meet you inside. The Mayor is a few feet away behind me eager to meet you both right now.
"Dinner will start in fifteen minutes. Everything will commence after. The paintings are in the room adjacent to the ballroom for initial sightseeing. A few of it will be up for bidding after dinner. I have your checkbook on my person. If there is anything that would come up at all, then fear not, I will be beside you the whole time sitting next to Kate Middleton." He finishes, looking up with a smile.
The crowd in the lobby begins to move around. Most of them beginning to enter the grand ballroom. The Mayor of New York and his wife start to make their way toward them.
Santana nods then sighs. "As you Americans say, let's get this show on the road."
Brittany breathes through her mouth as she sits down on the floor to stretch her legs one last time.
There's only fifteen minutes until they are set to take the stage. She may have lost time for being late and taking a little too long to unknowingly talk to a prince but she managed to work it out.
She pulls her legs apart and leans forward to reach her toes on her right. She exhales deeply, staving off her nerves. She's anxious and to some extent, is prone to a panic attack any second. Her future lies on the back of this performance. Her dreams feel like they're hanging in front of her eyes. All hers for the taking.
Brittany hears a commotion. She glances side to side then behind her where she sees her troupe mates convening behind the curtain. Curious, she stands up and walk towards them.
"What's going on?"
"We're checking out the celebrities." Her redhead troupe mate whose name she can't remember answers her. "Someone said they saw Beyoncé!"
"Woah. Who else is there?"
"I don't know yet but I'm going to find out." Red retorts. "Hey! We take turns peeking, guys!"
"Oh my god! I see Leonardo DiCaprio!" One of the dancers declares. Some of them push the girl out of the way at the mention of the actor's name. In a moment of confusion, Brittany finds herself being pulled by Red to peek with her.
She hesitates but decides to take a gander anyway.
She first notices the huge room illuminated by golden lights, giving a regal vibe to the space. Her eyes rove around the numerous tables. Some of the guests seated are talking to people at their table. Some have just finished dinner. Some drinking champagne to their heart's content. She can see several handshakes occurring at the same time. She appreciates the fancy dresses and designer suits, wondering how much it must have cost them to fix themselves up for tonight.
"There he is! Around the middle. He's talking with some model and a boy, I think." The girl peeking from below her exclaims.
Brittany's eyes search the space. She surveys the middle section that serves as a dance floor and a place to hold everyone's conversation. Then her gaze lands on the handsome actor facing directly in their direction. True enough, he's talking with two other guests. A photographer takes a few snapshots of the conversation before moving on to someone else.
In front of the actor, stands a picturesque woman with caramel skin and wearing an attention grabbing red gown. By the looks of it, she does seem to be a supermodel. Unfortunately, the woman has her back towards them. The only thing Brittany can see is the woman's immaculate French twisted hairstyle.
She casts her glance up at the boy on the actor's right this time. Unlike earlier, she can recognize that boyish charm and innocent smile anywhere after their encounter. There stands Prince Diego of Spain. His hands clasped behind his back, intently listening to whatever the actor is saying.
Brittany glances at the woman again.
She remembers her brief conversation with the Prince. If she's correct, that must be the Prince's sister. Santana. That was her name. The one he said he was waiting for. Brittany assumes so judging by the way the woman carries herself, an elegance that exudes even from afar. A man approaching to shake the woman's hand then Prince Diego's, complete with a slight head bow, further proves the matter for Brittany.
Brittany can't see the Princess's face but she's sure, through his brother's looks and how everyone seems to take second glances at her as they pass by, that she's gorgeous. It's one thing to meet a real life Royal. But for them to actually look like a Disney type of Royal is quite an injustice to commoners like her.
Brittany prepares to move away from the curtain when she sees the Princess turn her head briefly to the side. To laugh at something her brother said. And for a second there, a brief split second, she might have seen Rosario's likeness in the woman. Brittany's eyebrows furrow. Her curiosity getting the best of her. She tries to get a good look at the woman's face again but to no avail.
Several people from the audience slowly make their way back to their seats. And with that, Brittany loses any chance to see the woman's face. She sighs, giving up. It wouldn't prove fruitful anyway. Sometimes the minds play tricks. Much like a starving person would imagine every single thing as cheeseburgers and ice cream to compensate for their hunger.
Brittany moves away from the curtain. The other girls pouncing to get her position just as quick. She walks back to the corner, hoping to do her last minute rituals in silence with only ten minutes to go until they perform.
"Shut up! It's Prince William and Kate Middleton!" One of the dancers cry out. The others push each other out of the way to get a glimpse of the Royal couple.
Brittany attempts to ignore them. She pulls out her water tumbler from her gym bag and drinks a hefty amount. Then she faces a wall. She closes her eyes, takes consecutive deep breaths, and strives to find a calm center. She imagines the crowd, the stage. It has to be all about the performance. Everything else disappears. It's just her, the imaginary spotlight, the stage, and the dance becoming one once she goes out there.
"Girl, that's also Prince Harry at the same table! Damn, he's hot!"
"He's talking to the model from earlier. She and the boy are sitting next to them. Who is she?"
"Where? The woman sitting and facing toward us? I can't see her face that well from here. I literally love her red gown though."
"What are you blind? She's like, four tables away from the stage, girl."
"Maybe she's one of those foreign actors. Everybody keeps on approaching and shaking her hand and the boy's."
"No! I think I've seen her somewhere before."
"Me too! She looks so familiar."
"Oh, I know! She's that girl! That exchange student hot chick everyone talks about at school, right?"
Brittany's eyes fly open. She blinks a few times, gathering what she just heard from her troupe mates. There's only one person they have got to be referring to with that description. Seems like she's not the only one to see the likeness, after all.
"No way! It's only a resemblance. Like one of those sudden glance things when you look at someone."
"I think it's her but I really can't tell. Come on, why would an exchange student be sitting with a bunch of royals?"
"Wait! I'm sure Brittany knows." Red's familiar high voice echoes. Brittany glances over her shoulder at the mention of her name. Everyone stares at her.
"Brittany, isn't the exchange student girl at school your friend?" Red asks.
She tilts her head to the side and turns her body to face them. "Rosario?"
"No idea, girl. But you know her, right?" Red presses. Everyone waits for her answer.
"U-Uh… Yeah."
"Can you come here again and tell us if your friend is the woman at the audience? It's totally not her but these bitches need to hear it." Red smirks. The rest of the girls engage in a simultaneous debate in whispers.
Brittany purses her lips. She's new so might as well play along for now. She smiles shyly at no one in particular and marches toward them. The others make way for her to peek behind the curtains, casually waiting by the sides.
Brittany brushes the curtain away, just enough for her eyes to see everyone from the other side. By now, almost the entire audience is seated. Save for some important looking conversation occurring at certain corners of the room. She looks over the people again. Her eyes finding the specific table the girls mentioned. It takes her a few seconds but she finds it.
Her eyes lock on Prince William and Kate at first, both seated on the left side of the table from her line of sight. Then at Prince Harry on the other side of the table, engaging on an animated conversation with Prince Diego on his right.
"So? Who is it? Who's the boy and the woman? Have you found them?" Someone inquires.
Brittany nods to herself. She glances back at her eagerly waiting troupe mates. "The boy is Prince Diego of Spain."
Their eyes go wide in a humorous fashion. "How do you know that?" One of them asks.
"I ran into him earlier when I was lost."
"Shut up!" The same girl exclaims, impressed. "You're so lucky!" The others sport the same expression.
"And the woman? Who is she?" Another girl questions.
Brittany delays on answering. She peers back at the audience and attempts to find the table again.
"The prince said earlier that he's with his sister. So, I think that's her but I'm not a hundred percent sure." She tells no one in particular.
She casts her glance at the supposed Princess seated directly facing the stage. However, before Brittany can see anything, someone approaches the woman. The brunette turns sideways to offer a handshake and engage in a conversation. Brittany leans forward but she can only see so much from where she's standing. The Princess's left cheek and the back of her bun, to be exact. For what it's worth, and as far as she's managed to capture a glimpse, she really has quite the resemblance with Rosario.
"See? I told you it's not the exchange student chick. It's the freaking Princess of Spain!" Red chuckles. The others groan and move on to other topics.
Brittany continues to peek behind the curtain. Her gaze remains on the Princess, waiting for her to finish the conversation and face the stage. Out of curiosity, she thinks. A nagging thought whispering into her subconscious to stick around and see for herself, for reasons unknown to her. Almost an instinct she cannot grasp. A gut feeling.
"Brittany!"
The unmistaken commanding voice of Miss Hilda releases her from the stupor she's in. She immediately steps away from the curtain and turns around to see their adviser approaching her, wide smiles and all, with two guests in tow. The rest of her troupe mates scatter away, resuming their former activities prior to snooping.
"Y-Yes, ma'am?" Brittany utters. She stands straighter.
"Jim and Mary, I would like to introduce you to one of the best dancers in our troupe to date. This is Brittany Pierce." Miss Hilda proudly states, gesturing towards Brittany. "Brittany, Jim and Mary are our beloved friends from the American Jazz and Ballet Dance Company. They are your evaluators for your first audition."
Brittany's eyebrows raise. She feels the nerves coming back again, her heart drops a little bit at the mention of their purpose for tonight.
"Hello, Brittany. We've heard so much about you from Hilda. She's so proud of the troupe's achievements." Jim offers a hand. Brittany shakes it firmly.
"Yes. We're most excited to see your performance today. It's always a joy to see the troupe perform." Mary adds, mirroring the handshake.
Brittany smiles. "Thank you. It's an honor to audition for the dance company. I hope to do the consideration justice."
"We're sure you will. We hope we didn't make you too nervous by coming here. Mary and I always insist on meeting candidates before and after the performance."
Mary grins. "Yes. And speaking of that, we'll leave you to your devices and rituals. Don't forget to have fun out there."
"I won't, ma'am."
Jim and Mary bid goodbye and leave with Miss Hilda. Brittany takes a deep breath and returns to her spot. Shortly, Miss Hilda comes back and gathers them in a circle for final words and reminders. When the lights dim from the other side and the mic feed comes on, they take their assigned places. All of them whisper 'break a leg' to each other for one last time. The host begins introducing them.
Brittany takes her spot in the middle. She takes a final deep breath through her mouth, closing her eyes for a moment. She envisions herself as the lone dancer on the stage, alone in the entire place. The spotlight shining upon her when the curtains open, when she will begin to move along to the music. She clears her mind of everything except the burning passion inside her.
She opens her eyes. She smiles to herself, a smile conveying that she's about conquer the world from the stage. She assumes the appointed pose along with the others.
The curtains open.
Santana's heart is in her throat.
She's certain that she's about to faint any second now. She looks ahead and waits for the host to finish introducing tonight's intermission. As if deliberately creating suspense for her suffering.
She wonders in the brief second where Kurt has gone off to. Her assistant had been continuously persistent on bringing guests over to meet her. Anything to keep her occupied at all times to shield her from shifty eyes roaming about the small confines backstage where, as Kurt had told her, the dancers are waiting to perform. She's highly aware that such commoners would be curious to see the guests. She's conscious of the vulnerability her seat grants her from prying eyes. She knows that if this goes from bad to worse, she's to blame for ruining Brittany's future at that very stage.
But Santana is also familiar with Brittany's attitude to some extent. The blonde's intense need to focus on her task. Her desire to be left alone, to reflect and prepare herself mentally. Her indifference to such celebrity fanfare. Santana could only hope that this is the occurring situation.
And this time, the dread of being found out sets in full force. No escape. Nowhere to hide. She glances from side to side in the dimness of the grand ballroom. Not searching for anything in particular but something or anyone to grasp on for help.
Then it comes.
Kurt comes sauntering from behind her, lowering his body to avoid causing distraction. She notices several assistants also wondering about in the background, the person they approached following them out almost immediately.
"Your Highness," Kurt whispers beside her. "they are asking to have a photo of representatives from the royal families present tonight outside the hall. They're hoping to get one before intermission ends for security purposes."
Santana blinks. Then a flash of recognition. "W-What?"
"I may or may not have suggested that it would be best to have the picture when everyone is seated to avoid any unwanted commotion."
"You are the light of my life, Hummel."
"I know, darling." He retorts, smirking as he stands up.
Santana excuses herself from the table to follow Kurt. Before exiting the ballroom, she stops in her tracks to watch the scene unfold at the stage. Kurt stands beside her to follow her gaze.
She watches how the curtain spreads out in an almost slow motion fashion. The spotlight focusing on the dancers. And to Santana's surprise, there stands the stunning Brittany Pierce in the middle front. A spectacle for everyone to see. A privilege for everyone to witness. The bright light's impact of instant semi-blindness takes its effect on the dancers from seeing the audience for a moment's time.
"She's precious." Santana smiles once Brittany begins to move.
"She is." He responds. They continue to watch for a few more seconds before Kurt ushers Santana outside to meet the others.
A few greetings take place, several regards to each other's family. Santana has never been one to socialize with the others aside from formal events like this. She's always kept to herself and maintained a professional stance on things. It's something the King and Queen have lectured her about time and time again. Saying that preserving a good relationship with the other families would entitle a smooth path to better agreements and understanding. It's something she has to work on, she agrees.
It's something Diego is a natural of. Having regular conversations with distant relatives or being a pro on talking to the likes of Royals his own age and sometimes her own. She envies his innocent charm. Along with being mature for his own age, he can also be quite the easygoing and fun teenager that he's supposed to. A born leader like she is. He still has a lot to learn as regards his royal duties. Still on the naiveté side that his age provides him. But still, he possesses the qualities that would make him a good man. And in matters of that bear no effect nor possibility, Santana thinks Diego would make a great King.
They arrange themselves in random order. Jordan. England. Belgium. Sweden. Spain. Brunei. There are only six of them present but the volume of security watching every exit, every corner, or merely surrounding them is apt for a bus full of people.
She never really extended above and beyond the courtesy she gives them. Except for those she sort of grew up with in the limelight like Harry, Hussein, or Madeleine. All she can contribute is her abrasiveness and aloofness. And Santana's mindful that being closed off does not make a good Queen.
Several flashes go off in successive shots. Santana maintains her smile for what must have been a complete minute. When the photographers mark themselves satisfied with the pictures, they let the Royals go.
A brief conversation with everyone ensues to ease the awkwardness. The others stroll back to the grand ballroom, hoping to catch the remainder of the performance and take their seats before the lights come on again. Santana takes this chance to pull Kurt into a corner for a private chat.
"We need to leave, Kurt."
"Now?"
"Yes. It's the perfect time. Brittany's still on stage. I have met everyone there is to meet. Have made an appearance to last the paparazzi a whole month's worth of material. I'm all talked out. I have paid my dues tonight."
"But what about the artworks? I thought that's one of your saving graces for tonight. The bidding won't start for another hour."
"Oh, yes. In that case, kindly tell them to take that Rembrandt from the bidding list. And the swan painting from that up and coming artist Kellerman. I liked that one."
Kurt nods. "Alright then. If you really wish to leave, then I will need you to say goodbye to some people once the performance is over-"
"But we can't waste any more time, Kurt. Brittany might see me."
"And I agree with you. But it's common courtesy, Your Highness. One of those people you might have overlooked at some point might go tattling to the Queen about being ignored. We wouldn't want that." He argues. "It's just five or six people. It's only five minutes of your time. After you say your goodbyes to the British Royal family at the table then we can leave at once."
Santana sighs. "What about Diego? Is he coming with us?"
"Let me ask him. I'll take care of everything. For now, make your rounds of goodbyes so we can leave. You'll have ten minutes, max."
She nods, defeated.
A rapturous applause erupts from the grand ballroom. Santana missed the rest of the performance but she's certain Brittany was every bit the star that she is.
They walk back to the grand ballroom just as the lights come back on.
Brittany can barely contain herself.
She wants to shout from the rooftops. She wants to jump around for joy. She wants to scream from the top of her lungs. Brittany gave the performance her all and boy, did she deliver! She knows to herself that she had done a wonderful job. And so did her evaluators from the dance company when they returned backstage a minute or two after the performance to congratulate her. They said that they were thoroughly impressed and to be honest, so is Brittany with herself.
She may have let the initial nerves get to her but now, she feels like she can rule the world. She feels the sheer bliss running through her veins, the adrenaline rush still taking its effect on her. She can feel herself vibrating off her feet. All those years of hard work, those hardships in her life had finally paid off. The bruises, scratches, and every backlash she received before had finally, finally, paid off. She earned this, goddamn it! She deserves this!
Her troupe mates congratulate her and the rest of the girls who also had their auditions today for other dance companies. Most of them loitering in the background, taking pictures and laughing at random things.
Brittany saunters back to her bag to take out her water tumbler again, emptying the contents this time. She breathes as deeply as she can, attempting to rein in her spilling emotions. Her hand still shakes from the sheer delight of the performance. Happy tears at the back of her eyes begin to form. She covers her face with both hands, letting go of a few tears. She brushes them off almost instantly and sighs again, chuckling.
Brittany itches to share the good news to her friends. Her family. Surely they must feel the same glee she's feeling. Her mom might even throw a barbecue in her honor. And her friends? She might as well prepare for the worst hangover happening tomorrow.
Brittany's thoughts go back to Rosario. The girl has probably no inkling that she has an audition today. Even then, Rosario would be the first person to pull her in for the tightest hug possible. The brunette has to be the first one to know about it.
Brittany fishes her phone out of her bag, searches for Rosario's number, then dials it. Unlike earlier when she couldn't get through at all, this time Brittany hears ringing but no one answers. Maybe Rosario's home already. Maybe she's cooking with Brad right now. She remembers the brunette telling her something about the both of them always making dinner together to that effect. An automated voice instructs her to leave a voicemail instead.
"U-Uh… Hi, Rosario. I've been trying to call you a few times. Brad said you're out with your relatives or something. He told me you'll be back home for dinner. I just- I have a lot of stories to tell you about today." She pauses. "And I miss you, that's all. Call me back when you can." She ends the call.
Brittany sighs. She misses the girl so much it pains her. It's weird, she thinks. She only saw her yesterday. But the need to see the girl, the need to kiss her, be close to her. It scares and excites Brittany all the same. She's never felt like this. She's never been the clingy type. Or one who actively seeks out to be with someone. But with Rosario? It's different. It's easy. It feels right.
Brittany smiles to herself at the thought of Rosario's own smile. She can't wait to see that smile again. God, the brunette's beauty is too immaculate to put into words for her. She could sing praises all day and night but it wouldn't do the girl justice. Brittany sighs again. She doesn't want to say it yet but she's positive that she more than likes Rosario. It's not some flimsy schoolgirl crush anymore. She's fallen for Rosario.
"Hey, Brittany!" One of the dancers calls out from the side. She glances to her left to see all of them packing their things. "We're all heading out for drinks with Miss Hilda. It's on the troupe's fund. Come join us!"
"We always go out after every performance. It's fun because it's free!" A passing blonde chimes in.
"Everyone gets drunk. We have this tradition that all new members need to take five consecutive shots of tequila. Or risk getting cut!" Another one joins in.
"W-What?" Brittany's eyebrows raise.
"Oh, don't believe her. She's messing with you!" A brunette exclaims, the others chuckle. "Come join us. It's nice to have a new member in the group. We're all so sick of each other's faces."
Brittany stalls on answering. Sure, going out with her troupe mates seems fun. It would be great, actually. Then she looks down on her phone again. The person she'd like to see most right now is Rosario. She needs to see Rosario.
"Uhmm… I have to go meet someone, actually. It's really important." She smiles. "Rain check?"
"Sure, girl. We'll be at Ken's bar if you feel like dropping by." The brunette from earlier offers, grinning.
Brittany nods. She picks up her bag from the floor and bids everyone a quick goodbye. She dials Rosario's number again, receiving the same instruction for a voicemail, as she leaves backstage.
"Hey! The performance just ended a few minutes ago. I was hoping you and I could talk." Brittany pauses. She looks up, seeing different exits being guarded by security leading God knows where. They all look the same. And unfortunately for her, she doesn't remember which one she came from to get backstage.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
She peeks to the far side of the corridor and sees an unguarded door. Maybe that's their assigned exit? It looks familiar enough and as far as she can remember she walked through that corridor earlier. She shrugs and makes way for it.
"Anyway," She starts speaking through the receiver again. "I'm coming over to your place. I'll just wait in the lobby if you still aren't around." She passes through the door, unaware that she turned into the wrong exit.
"I can't wait to see you." She adds before ending the call, wide smiles and all.
"Kurt." Santana whispers loud enough for her assistant to hear. She gives him a signal with her eyebrows and motions to the door, indicating that a bit of haste would be appreciated from his part.
She had just finished her round of goodbyes. The utter desperation to leave the event is an understatement no words can convey. She stands at the outskirts of the grand ballroom, waiting for her frantic assistant to pick up the rest of her shortcomings in their early departure. Her security prepares to leave, gathering around her.
Kurt comes plodding toward her, clearly out of his wits. "Give me a second to breathe here, Your Highness. I just pulled off everything there is to handle in five minutes." He sighs deeply, shaking his head. "It's a goddamn miracle. I deserve a raise."
"No time to breathe. Let's go." She starts to walk toward the exit intended for guests. Kurt catches up to her. "The dancers might come out to join the event. Or they might peek again behind those blinders. We can't risk it."
"You're being paranoid, Princess."
"I'm not." She retorts with a biting tone. "Where's Diego?"
"Doing the last of his round of goodbyes. It will be quick. He'll be with us in a minute or two. He says he will meet you at the lobby. You have to walk out together for the cameras."
Santana nods. Even if there's the smallest of possibility that Brittany would see her, there's no way Santana's going to take that chance. Not here, not right now. She mentally prepares herself ahead for the ordeal she will be facing tonight. She can no longer hide behind this 'Rosario' secret. She is not and has never been a coward. She has to tell Brittany in person tonight.
Suddenly, an instinct arises from her train of thought. More like, a gut feeling. A bout of nervousness sets in again but she tries to put it aside, chucking it to another impending red carpet scene with the paparazzi.
Santana and Kurt walk the few steps left to the lobby. A mostly deserted place since all the guests and their entourage have either moved to the grand ballroom or the gallery. There's only Kurt, the guards, and her. Almost there, Santana thinks. Looks like she'll survive this in one piece, after all. All that's left to do is wait for Diego.
They have barely stayed put for more than a few seconds when someone calls out for her. An initial fear streams through her body.
"Your Highness," the voice greets. "leaving so soon, are you?"
Santana and Kurt turn to see a Mr. Jameson approaching them from another exit. She ponders to herself just how many entrances and exits are there in this place. As best as she can recall from meeting him earlier, he's one of the board members of the museum. She motions for the guards to relax and let the old man with balding hair approach her.
She leans to the side, motioning for Kurt to come closer.
"Can you go find Diego, please? And tell him to hurry up." She mutters under her breath. Kurt nods and scatters away. Santana looks back in front just in time to see the man arrive at her spot.
"A-Ah. Mr. Jameson, hello again." She extends her hand which he takes. "Yes. I'm afraid I have to leave early. Home calls. A touch of jetlag too."
"That's a shame. We have a few pieces that I'm sure you will like. You know how much we appreciate your family's love for art."
Santana glances to her left and sees Kurt and Diego approaching with his horde of guards from afar.
"And you spoil us with it." She retorts, chuckling with Mr. Jameson. "I had my assistant purchase the Rembrandt and Kellerman piece for me. My father will surely love it."
"Ah! Lovely paintings!" He declares, clasping his hands together. "In that case, please send my regards to His and Her Majesty."
"I will." She smiles.
"Before I let you go, is it safe to assume that we shall see you at this year's Gala?" Mr. Jameson inquires, leaning forward.
"O-Oh. I'm sorry, sir. I think I'm at the wrong exit." A familiar woman's voice murmurs in the background.
Santana freezes instantly. Her eyes open wide at the recognition. She feels her heart drop from the top of a skyscraper. She finds herself unable to move. She stops breathing all together.
Then the inevitable happens. The moment she's been fearing all night.
"Rosario?" Brittany calls out in the most unsure tone Santana's heard from somewhere behind her.
Santana fights the urge to look, to turn, to answer to a false name. But she fails. She slowly looks over her right shoulder, almost painful, and locks eyes with the one and only Brittany Pierce.
Brittany is in a daze.
It's one thing to get lost in the museum for the second time today. Another to retrace her steps back to the lobby where she came from earlier. Another to almost bump again into what seems to be a mob of never ending security in this place on her way to the exit.
But to see Rosario here is a bit hard to comprehend in theory.
She couldn't be mistaken. The coincidence of seeing her here is too great a chance to take for granted. It was in the corner of her eyes, when a slight opening in between two guards gave her the leeway to see who they're protecting. She saw the woman's face clearly from the sides.
Brittany blinks. She has to make sure that her eyes aren't deceiving her. It could be a dream but she's far too off in reality to think otherwise.
"Rosario?" She calls for her again when their eyes meet.
The shock on Rosario's face reminds her of someone who had just had a heart attack. The way the brunette's eyes go comically wide makes her break out into a chuckle. The last time Brittany looked at her reflection, she didn't resemble any movie monster or a fictional serial killer to give off such a reaction.
Brittany asks, "What are you doing-"
"Your Highness?" The old man declares. "Shall we expect you at the Gala?" His whole attention on Rosario, not even paying Brittany any mind.
The brunette remains unmoving in her spot, the look of someone who'd rather be anywhere but here right now. She appears to be torn in the fleeting moment between addressing Brittany and answering the old man's concerns. She chooses the latter.
"We shall see, Mr. Jameson." Rosario musters a forced smile. She adds something in low whispers to the old man. With that, he lowers his head, shakes her hand, then scurries away.
Brittany watches the whole exchange in bewilderment. She feels like Dorothy realizing that she's not in Kansas anymore in terms of confusion. She tosses the nagging feeling making itself known once again to the side. Who was that old man Jameson? Why did she call Rosario 'Your Highness'? Was he being sarcastic like Brad when it comes to Rosario? Why did he shake her hand?
Brittany shrugs, disregarding it all. She couldn't care less, she just happy to see the brunette. Rosario takes a few seconds, as if watching out for other people in the lobby, before facing her again.
"Hi." Rosario mutters. But she's not smiling.
Brittany takes this as a permission to approach the brunette. She takes a step forward only for the guards to stop her. They look down at her with an ominous gaze.
"Dejarla ir." Rosario commands. The security immediately stands down.
Brittany's forehead creases. What is up with these men in suits? It's not as if she's going to hurt Rosario with her frail body compared to their hulking bodies of protein shakes.
"Hey," Brittany starts as she hesitantly makes her way to Rosario. "I was just coming over to see you at your apartment."
"Y-You were?"
"Yeah. I left you a voicemail. Our performance just ended and I wanted to see you. Brad said you'd be back for dinner." She rambles on before catching on to Rosario's uneasiness. "Are you okay? You seem spacey."
The brunette clears her throat. "Yes. I'm okay."
Brittany squints her eyes. There's something different about Rosario. The brunette stands a bit straighter than usual, a tad more poised. She looks like someone you'd hold in high regard. She looks like one of those people you wouldn't want to talk to for fear of being intimidated.
There's something peculiar about this. It's at the back of Brittany's mind but she can't put it together.
"I had no idea you'd be attending this event. Were your relatives here? Did you see the dance?"
"No." Rosario summons a split-second smile. "Can we talk somewhere private? I need to tell you something."
"Oh. Sounds serious." She comments, shoulders slouching. A sinking feeling in her stomach follows.
"It is." The brunette retorts, motioning to a corner.
"Can I get a kiss first?" Brittany tries to turn the serious mood around, grinning all dopey. She leans forward and attempts to get close to Rosario but the latter quickly moves away. By now, Brittany's patience has started to wear out with all of Rosario's weird shenanigans.
"Okay, what is going on, Rosario?" She trains a stern eye on the girl.
Rosario swallows a lump in her throat, sighing deeply. The brunette looks at the ground then at Brittany, minimizing the small space between them.
"I-I'm-" Rosario whispers. "I-I'm sorry, Britt."
"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Brittany presses, puzzled. She places her hands over the brunette's.
A look of devastation flashes across Rosario's face. "I-I haven't been honest about who I am. I-I'm so, so sorry." She adds, choked up.
Brittany blinks, shaking her head. "I don't understand. What do you mean you haven't been honest? What are you talking about, Rosario?"
From the corner of Brittany's eye, several men in suits enter the lobby.
Brittany casts her glance to the left. She sees Brad approaching with the bodyguards in tow. Upon further inspection, she notices a boy walking beside him. A boy whom she'd recognize anywhere.
"Princess, we're all ready to go." Brad utters as he saunters toward them, seeing only Rosario's back and unaware of Brittany's presence hidden from sight behind one of the bodyguards.
"Santana," Prince Diego's voice echoes around the space. "Harry and William invited me to train polo with them next weekend. They're going to help me work on my swings. Right, Kurt?" He continues excitedly. Brad nods.
When no one answers, Brad takes a step forward and speaks.
"Your Highness? We're ready to go-" He cuts himself off at once upon seeing Brittany standing alongside Rosario. He sports the same staggered expression the brunette had a few minutes ago.
"What is going on?" Diego chimes in. Utter surprise flash on his face when he sees Brittany as well.
Brittany remains immobile. She moves her gaze from one person to another. She still doesn't understand what's happening here but there has to be a common denominator to all of this. What did Rosario mean when she said 'sorry'? Why is Rosario here? Why is Prince Diego with Brad? Why does everyone keep calling Rosario 'Your Highness' or 'Santana'?
She rummages through her memories, anything to help her out. Surely there's an answer to this madness. She searches, searches, and searches for everything and anything. Then it comes back to her all at once.
"They are quite the duo, aren't they? Makes you wonder how they became that close. How come we're not that inseparable, Britt?"
"I'll have to run it with Brad first…"
"But her entourage are at her beck and call, reminding her of every little thing she has to do. The bodyguard at the exit portrays that she cannot escape her life. The King and Queen's reflection suggests a strong presence of making sure the princess is always in line. Doesn't that show that she has no freedom whatsoever?"
"I've never met someone who makes me feel so intimidated. And believe me, I've met my share of intimidating people."
"Yes. I have undergone military training when I was eighteen. It's sort of… required. At least, for my family."
"Only a younger brother. He's twelve."; "Diego is a mature kid with an old soul."
"My family is a prominent one in Spain, Brittany. Our movements generate a lot of talk in certain circles and I'm a bit of a wild card back home."
"I don't have much of a choice. I have to take over the family business."; "I'm set to take over seeing that I'm the eldest child. It's an extremely huge responsibility, one that I've been groomed for since I was a child, almost as if the whole world's eyes are upon me once I take the stage."
"It is Kurt's recipe. He taught me how to make them back in Madrid…"
"Who are you waiting for?", "My sister."; "My sister's name is Santana."
That's why Rosario and Brad are almost always together.
That's the reason for the constant head bowing toward Rosario's way.
That's why they weren't that responsive to their names during the first few weeks she's known them.
That's the reason for the accidental slips here and there.
That's why they have those knowing and frightened glances whenever talks of Royal families arise during conversations.
That's the reason for Rosario being so intensely guarded with her privacy and secrets.
And then it all clicks.
Things suddenly become clear to her. Things begin to make sense now. Every little thing becomes evident.
Brittany tries to breathe but the air around her becomes scarce. She stares at the brunette in front of her. She feels her heart sink to the deepest of seas. She feels like crying. Brittany takes a step back from Rosario and looks up to meet everyone's eyes on her.
It must have been the change of expression on her face. The astonishment shining through from both parties. They know that she knows.
Brittany has discovered the truth.
Rosario is Santana. Santana is the princess. Rosario is the princess.
I genuinely want to know what your thoughts are about this chap. Drop a review for me, will you? :)
Next chapter is a bit heartbreaking, folks. We still got 6-7 chapters left before this fic ends.