Sebastian had always been a terrible influence. He was the devil on her shoulder, who whispered sweet seductive things in her ear, encouraging her to be bad. She was also certain he had murdered the angel that was supposed to appear, because whenever her was around there was no voice telling her to do the right thing. Personally, she enjoyed the trouble he usually got them into, it helped her break out of the shell that was being a Fabray.

Last night was one of those nights of excess and sin, and she wasn't sure she remembered most of it. She was getting to old for designer drugs and drinking till late into the night. She couldn't remember when she had stopped drinking, she was certain she did a few lines of cocaine of some naked person at some point in the evening. She really needed to stop going to hang out with Sebastian when she was bored, he always did this and she always grew caught up in the moment.

She groans feeling the splitting headache and rolls over, pausing, and opening an eye. These weren't her ridiculously priced, Egyptian cotton sheets, which also had an absurdly high thread count. It takes her a moment and opening another eye, to realize she's currently in Santana's bedroom, and that she's naked. She nearly jerks herself out of the bed when Santana enters the room with a mug of steaming coffee, and she looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"Well, now I understand what type of trouble you get yourself into when you're bored," Santana said dryly. She flicks her eyes over Charlie who still looks like she's in shock and she snaps her fingers in front of her face. "You're not having a stroke, are you?"

Charlie blinks and flicks her eyes up at Santana, feeling slightly queasy at the sharp smell of coffee that invades her senses, "How did I get here? And what the fuck happened last night?"

"You mean this morning," Santana says tapping the coffee. Charlie had been on something, and she wasn't quite sure what it was, which was why she had simply decided to avoid putting anymore drugs into her system. "Drink it, there's a bucket beside you if you want to vomit, cause if you vomit in my bed you're cleaning it up and buying me a new bed."

"How did I get here?" Charlie repeats.

Santana rolls her eyes and puts the cup of coffee in Charlie's hands, sitting on the bed beside her. "You came here around six in the morning, I think it was a combination of your driver not wanting to leave you alone when you were so clearly fucked up, and you stating loudly that you wanted to put your dick inside me while you were so clearly fucked up." Santana informs her. "You need to give your driver a raise, you don't pay him enough to deal with your shit."

Charlie flushed she couldn't remember any of that. She takes a sip of her coffee and crinkles her nose at the sharp taste. It was the cheap stuff. "Six am?"

"It's nearly four, you've slept most of the day," Santana responds with a shrug. She tilts her head slightly, "What's the last thing you remember?"

Charlie shrugged, there were blurs from last night, but she couldn't really put them in any sort of chronological order at this point in time. "The last thing I remember was doing a line of coke off a naked woman."

Santana raises a brow, "Don't you think you're a bit too old to be doing that?"

"What?"

"Don't you think you're a bit old to be doing lines of coke off a stripper and drinking until six am in the morning. How in the world are you even alive right now?"

"The Fabray's have excellent genes," Charlie grunted swinging off the bed and looking down at her naked self. "Did you strip me or did I get naked? I didn't force myself onto you right?"

"You gave me a sloppy wet kiss and then told me you wanted to have sex so I said okay and said let's go to the bedroom, you were asleep the moment you hit the bed," Santana responds watching Charlie carefully. It wouldn't do if the billionaire dropped dead on her floor. "Do you want me to start the shower for you?"

"No, but I do need my pants, and a shirt, I would love a shirt." Charlie responds frowning slightly. "I'm sorry, for last night."

Santana shrugged, "I would prefer if you didn't drop dead here, and I personally think that you're too old to be doing lines of coke and god knows whatever else," Santana reaches for Charlie's boxers and tosses them at her.

"You almost sound like you care," Charlie grunts as she struggles to put on her pants.

Santana snorted, she didn't really, "Of course I don't, it's self preservation, mixed with the fact that I got some good news yesterday," Santana said with a shrug. When Charlie turns to look at her she smiles, "I got a call-back, for my audition."

"And that's—"

"Good! It's really good. I'm one step closer to the job." The smile on her face fades as she studies the billionaire who is working on finding a shirt. "You didn't make any calls for me, did you?" She had told Charlie to stay away. Now that Charlie was in front of her it felt to good to be true.

"Santana, I may know people but you never told me the name of the soap opera, you never told me when you were going in for your auditions, so no I had nothing to do with it. I am not some criminal mastermind."

Santana nods, that much was true. She shakes her head, she was doing something on her own merit and it felt good. "Do you want me to order a pizza? Or something? You haven't eaten all day."

"I know a good burger place nearby," Charlie says. "We can go there to celebrate your callback and when and if you get the job we'll go to somewhere nicer to celebrate." Charlie raises her arm and takes a whiff, she gags but shrugs it off. She smelled awful. But it was just a burger and fries and a milkshake.

"Shower first, brush your teeth, and then we'll go get dinner," Santana says crossing her arms over her chest. She would find something of Charlie's that didn't look like she'd just been through a bender.

~O~

Charlie frowned at her empty plate of fries and looked at Santana's plate for a moment, and then reached over to steal a fry. She was swatted firmly on the hand and she looks up at Santana and frowns. "Oh, come on."

"You're rich get another plate of fries," Santana insists moving to protect her fries. She hadn't known about this small hole in the wall burger joint, which wasn't all that busy. She'd have to return when she had the time, Charlie was probably right. Best burgers in the city, and they had decent fries as well.

Charlie puffed out her cheeks, she didn't want another plate of fries, she wanted Santana's fries. She wouldn't have to wait if she had Santana's fries. "I need all the grease that I can manage Santana before I get hit with a hangover," she leans in. "I'm still very drunk," she admits.

"So, what exactly did you take last night apart from doing lines of coke of a stripper?" Santana asked.

Charlie shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "That's not me. I don't usually lose control like that. Sebastian's parties always end up out of control. I think I partied a bit too hard last night," Charlie taps her fingers on the table for a moment, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or if I was forceful with you. It won't happen again."

Santana shrugs her shoulder she'd be a hypocrite if she were to pretend that she didn't have any crazy party stories herself, "It's fine," Santana said holding her hands up and frowning when Charlie swiped some fries off her plate. She scowls, "This isn't something you do every weekend is it?"

"No," Charlie said firmly. "Sebastian might be my best friend, but I can only take him in small doses. Very small doses. Or this happens," Charlie said grimacing. She grins when Santana finally pushes her plate of fries towards her and begins to eat Santana's fries. "So—you know what I find to be an excellent hangover cure—"

"I have work to do," Santana interrupts. "And no, that work isn't sucking your dick. I was going to catch up on the show that I tried up for watch the last twenty episodes."

"Well, you do have some decent beer, wine and scotch, right?" When Santana raises a brow, Charlie shrugs. "I mean come on you can't watch those things sober right?"

"I have some decent chips, and non-alcoholic beverages, for you. I think you've pickled your liver enough," Santana paused for a moment, she wasn't exactly sure when she had invited Charlie to stay.

"Fine, we'll do it your way, but tell me you have those little crackers, with the fancy cheese too," Charlie frowns when Santana shoots her a flat look. "Don't worry, I can get them delivered no problem."

Santana rolled her eyes, "You're not having anything else to drink today, I know they say the best hangover cure is to keep drinking, but then you'll never learn that you're too old to be partying like you're in your early twenties."

"It was a very mature party Santana," Charlie insists.

"Which part? The jello shots? The doing lines of coke off a stripper? Or the loud EDM music that I'm sure only made you want to drink more," Santana asked seriously.

Charlie flushed, "Sebastian goes through a midlife crisis about six times a year. This time it was a party, next time it'll probably be some new boy, who is dangerously close to being underage. He'll spend a fortune on them, and then when he gets bored he'll kick them to the curb."

"And you two became friends how?"

"Our parents are friends, and he just sort of stuck around in my life. As in he doesn't leave me alone," Charlie shrugged. "Don't you have a friend like that?"

"Yeah," Santana admits. "But I don't think it's going to last, she's going to be on Broadway, she's going to be famous. I'll be lucky to be a recurring role on this soap opera. I'm not going to be one of those friends who hangs on."

Charlie chews on her fries slowly, "Quinn is an overachiever, she graduated early, and was already running her campaign for the state senate, while I was still getting high in my apartment and trying to figure out my life's goal. I mean that led to some rather tense conversations with my parents about life decisions but look at me now. Quinn comes to me for money and help with her campaigns. Point is, you'll get to where you want to be, and then who knows Rachel might be the friend that hangs on."

"You haven't heard her sing," Santana snorts.

"No, but I've heard you," Charlie says. "I've also heard Dani without the auto-tune," Charlie doesn't finish the thought, as she picks up her milkshake and sips it. "Just work at it, no one can tell the future."

Santana nods and sips her own milkshake, "And you're not going to help?"

"I mean I'll probably offer unsolicited advice, but no I'm not going to call in any favors for you," Charlie promised. That would mean using Dani's contacts and she wasn't ready to have to deal with that can of worms.