This chapter is getting a lot more interesting. So please read! I'm enjoying writing this more! Please read, review and enjoy! You know the drill! Thanks :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything to do with it. This is entirely fictional and in no way part of the show Glee. But if I did I would totally rock that show.
Chapter Twenty One: A New Place
NYC. New York City. The Big Apple. Whatever you wanted to call it. And I was here. I took in a deep breath, inhaling the New York air. I was standing on a little wooden bridge facing the Statue of Liberty. It had been three months since my little mustang had taken me here, I didn't even know where I was going - but I knew wherever it was, it was going to be a fresh start, I would start out new.
I'd spent the first few nights bent over a bar, drinking Tequila by the bottle. My tab was worth over $200, and I had no money to pay it with. However, making out with the bartender Carlos, reduced it a hell of a lot. He wasn't bad, but he smelt of stale alcohol and had freakishly cold hands, but I'd made out with worse. He'd been the first person I'd kissed since I'd awoken in the hospital bed, he'd been the first to kiss me since... her. It all felt so wrong, almost like I was being unfaithful - but I had no-one to be unfaithful too. My...
"Brittany..."
I breathed her name out, squeezing my eyes shut. It was the first time I'd said it in years. And it was still just as painful as the first time I'd said it after the accident. My Brittany... My beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed best friend who'd I'd fallen madly in love with wasn't here anymore, she wasn't mine.
I'd managed to stumble up the stairs into my one bedroom apartment overlooking the Manhattan skyline; before collapsing on my bed.
"Brittany." I whispered into the air, I'd broken the barrier now. I couldn't stop saying it. With every time that I'd spoken her name, it felt like someone had socked me in the stomach. I clutched my chest, folding my body into the foetal position. My chest felt hollow, it was open. I'd let someone in years ago, and it had messed me up forever. There was no way and still has never been any way of healing myself. Even after all this time.
All because of one stupid person, no different from any other of the stupid people I'd met in my lifetime, had wandered into my stupid but easy life. And suddenly, I'd given her a piece of me, she didn't ask for it, I just gave it to her, completely voluntarily. I guess I really should blame myself for this. This agony was caused by my own actions, it's my fault I feel like this right now. I could have pushed her away, just like every other person in my life, but no. That day, that day when I'd seen her glide across the floor in the gym, no make-up, hair tied up messily into a loose ponytail - ever since then my life would never be my own again.
She'd gotten inside me, without my permission. She'd knocked down every wall I'd ever built, and just occupied my heart. Being in love with her, had eaten me from the inside out. Hollowing my chest and leaving me to be this empty, weak, pathetic person. "I can't break up with him, it's not right" had turned into a glass splinter, working its way through my chest and into my heart.
And still, even right now, lying on my bed in my one room apartment, it still tears me apart. It still fucking hurts. And not just in the imagination, it had never just been in my mind. It was a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. That blonde, had one day just walked into my life, and changed me forever.
I'd never healed, getting away had just dumbed the pain down. But she couldn't rule my life anymore, she wasn't here, and never would be again. I was never going to see that glorious face again. I missed her so goddamn fucking much and she'd never know. If I could go back, and change everything I would. Especially the week of Fleetwood Mac...
I'd led her into the music room to express my 'private feelings for her' by singing Songbird. I couldn't hold in my emotions, but no-one was around to see it. Well, Brad was but was he basically furniture. The tears fell as I sung the last lyric, before I wiped it away with my finger, breaking the eye contact that had been constant throughout the song.
"So why couldn't you sing that to me in front of everyone?" She stepped down from where she'd been sitting to place her face only inches from my own. "Now that Artie and I aren't together."
"No, not yet. I'm not ready for that type of public announcement." I turned away, not wanting to meet her hurt face.
"Ever since that Muckraker thing, people have already started treating me differently. I got asked to join the golf team."]
She examined my face for a millisecond, knowing how deathly afraid I was of people finding out. She knew how much I'd be shitting it because people were treating me differently; and especially the golf team. That was full of lesbians and fat dorks hoping to get some from them - when they had no chance for more than one reason.
"Well what if I went first?"
She loves you enough to sacrifice herself first.
She stood in front of me, smiling.
"Come on Fondue For Two, I'll ask you out to Prom and tell you how I feel. And all you have to do is say yes."
I considered it; why was this so fucking hard. But the smile she gave me shattered everything I was scared of. The nightmare was now gone, I found myself smiling. We were going to be together.
"Okay."
"Yeah."
She wrapped her arms around me immediately, her eyes sparkling with joy. She pulled me into a tight embrace. I didn't want to hide my love for her; I wanted to be with her, and the fear that had stopped me before just seemed so insignificant. I was standing here, breathing in the coconutty scent of her hair, taking in the warmth of her embrace. I could do anything and everything as long as she was by my side, as long as I could have this - I'd do anything.
It's just one yes, right?
I nodded into the hug, and she broke it, smiling proudly at me before taking my pinky and leading me to class with her. We sat in Spanish, goofily smiling at each other, trying to make sure they were secret as the suspicions were getting worse with every touch between us two. After a long day, I climbed into my car, still smiling.
But the illusion disappeared. As soon as she'd gone, the fear set in. Without her, it came rushing back and it was stronger than ever. I had two hours until I was supposed to be at Britt's house, outing myself. I just wasn't ready - I couldn't do it. I turned on the engine and rushed home. I swear I caught people staring at me as I drove out; I was going to have to get used to this. The malicious whispering and the looks that branded 'dyke' into my forehead. My stomach churned as realised I couldn't go through with it.
As soon as I got home, I ran up into my room, throwing my bad somewhere and whipping out my phone. I typed 'I can't' into a blank, and clicked over Brittany's name. 'Are you sure you want to send the message?' flickered up on the small screen. All I had to do was press enter, such a simple move, but the consequences... Just like the small yes you had to give Brittany.
It's now or never San, make your decision. You know what this will do to her.
I was going to let her down, but I wasn't ready. She said she'd wait for me, she would accept that I wasn't ready. She couldn't hate me for that right?
She's not going to wait forever.
I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching the phone tightly. I wanted to do it so badly, I wanted to be with her, but I couldn't. I blocked out the whispers in the back of my mind before pressing enter. Relief washed over me, but guilt took over before I could feel the real effects.
Well done. You've missed your chance.
My eyes were now aching from squeezing them so hard. But I forced them open, knowing I had to do something. I logged onto Jewfro's blog and posted a rumour that I knew would instantly boost my rep once again. The thought of everyone knowing I was in the closet scared me shitless. But half and hour later, I logged onto YouTube, to watch her video. She would always post it around 7pm, but it was now 7:30 and no video. She's done her hair and properly dressed up; the familiar theme tune played in the background while the whispers returned.
You're an idiot. She loves you.
"Hi, I'm Brittany. Welcome to Fondue For Two."
Her eyes were sad, her expression was... well pissed off. Understandable considering I just let her down.
Again.
What? When have I let her down before?
She tried to get your attention in the week of the duet assignment. She wanted to confess her love for you, by singing Come To My Window to the Glee club. She's loved you all along. And you're too fucking stupid to realise that. Everyone thinks she's the dumb one out of your duo, but really - it's you.
Shit. The whispers were right; she wanted to sing a duet in front of everyone. She wanted to tell me how she felt, and I told her I wasn't in love with her. I crushed her, with just a few words, and I didn't even know. She'd given me the chance to confess her love and to give up everything she had just to be with me, once again, and I'd blown her off, knowingly.
"My guest today was supposed to be Santana, but she texted about an hour ago and it just said 'I can't." Her shoulders shrugged, and the tears started forming in. I hated hurting her, I would do anything, apart from the obvious, to make sure she wasn't hurting, but I couldn't.
"Oh well, the show must go on."
She means she must go on.
I clenched my eyes shut, letting the tears flow over my cheeks. I sobbed until the early hours of the morning, hoping she was thinking of me. The space next to me felt so empty without her there. I wanted to be next to her, I wanted to tell her how unbelievably in love with her I am, but I couldn't.
You've done enough damage.
The next day at school - Jewfro approached me as I was walking to my locker.
"Any comment on the vicious rumour left on The Muckracker website about you and Karofsky doing it in the backseat of a parked car in the 'Holier Than Now' cemetary?"
"No comment." This would totally boost my rep. Although truth be told, the furthest me and Karofsky had gone was holding hands - and that was basically forced upon us.
"Any comment on the fact that when I looked up the IP address of the person who posted the rumour - I found out it was you."
Shit. You've been found out. Think of something, quick quick!
I turned to face him, hovering opposite me and Britt's locker. Why did she have to be there at this very moment? I hadn't talked to her since the text; and I missed her despite our last contact being under 24 hours ago. She was applying her mascara, her eyes glancing out the corner towards me. I met her gaze, knowing she'd heard Jewfro's comment.
"My computer was stolen."
A clapping sounded in my head. I slowly met Britt's gaze, my heart was pounding.
"Look, all I can say is that Dave and I are going strong and..."
I breathed in, watching Brittany process my words. I was still hurting her; it was like I couldn't control it.
"...We're very excited about our Prom King and Queen campaign. Vote Santofsky."
She was listening in to the conversation, and it made me feel so insecure. I couldn't reveal my feelings in public, especially not to Jewfro. I hated this so much, but I couldn't stop it.
"So you two are in love? Soulmates so to speak?"
Brittany was now intensely watching me, she paused applying her lipgloss just studying my face. I knew she was waiting for me to announce everything considering I was so willing too the last time she saw me. My pulse quickened, and I stared into her brilliantly blue eyes; she was so fucking beautiful it almost hurt to watch her. My heart was telling me to just spill out my every emotion, but I couldn't. I knew I was hurting her, but I was hurting myself by hurting her. But my mind had different ideas.
"Yeah."
The words punched me in the stomach as they'd left my mouth - an acidic taste ran up the back of my throat, burning my words as they escaped mouth.
"I'd say that was accurate."
I could feel her disappointing glare bore into the back of my head as I turned away, all I really wanted to do was run towards her and kiss her. I missed kissing her, I missed touching her and hugging her whenever I wanted too. I needed her, more than I needed air. I could handle anything that came at me when she was by my side; she just made me feel so complete. Nothing mattered when I was with her, being with her was easier than breathing. But I needed time before we could have all that, and I closed my eyes, praying she understood.
Two months later, I was standing outside Millenium Star Records after being signed. The last couple of months had been amazing. I'd started out as a junior mail clerk, which basically meant I walked around with a trolley handing out mail to people I wish I was. Fortunately a senior manager had heard me singing and recommended no other than Jamie Foxx, to listen to me. He had and now I was on my way to stardom. Alone.
Everything was going by so quickly, and before I knew it, I was sitting next to Jennifer Lopez at the MTV awards after releasing my first music video. I'd arrived in NYC only five months ago. The first month consisted of me in the bar, owing Carlos $200 which I'd paid with my macking out skills, and I was barely living off ramen noodles in a one bedroom apartment that over looked Manhattan.
I was a world-wide music sensation, I'd reached three million hits on YouTube and it was because of sheer luck. But the hole in my heart was still there, still reminding me of everything and everyone I'd left behind. I'd ran into Matt Rutherford a couple of days after collecting my Breakthrough Artist's Video Award. After transferring from McKinley, his life had elevated. He'd gone to London, where he studied at the Brit's school of Musical Talent and he was signed up to choreograph Lady GaGa's music videos.
"Wow Matt, well done."
"Thanks San." His smile was still brilliantly white. "So, how's everyone else? Quinn, Tina, Mike, Finn, Puck? What about Brittany? What did she end up doing with her life?"
Her name punched another hole through my heart. After the night of my breakdown a few months back, I hadn't spoken of her. The memory was just too painful.
"I haven't heard from most of them since I ran away like two years ago. But last time I checked Quinn and Puck got hitched, had another kid. Finn and Rachel were on/off like always and Tina and Mike had just had their first kid. They're all growing up."
Wow, two years ago. Two years since you gazed into her eyes. Two years since you touched her.
The memory of her ghosted over my brain, my pain receptors buzzing as the stings returned, impacting my heart. I skipped the Brittany question, hoping he would drop it.
"Tina and Mike? Really? Damn, so much has happened since I left." He murmured, taking a sip from his Starbucks cup.
"Yeah. You could say that. Anyway, I gotta go, catch up soon though yeah?" I grabbed his phone and typed in my number - it was nice having contact with old friends again. It was nice having contact with anyone, despite living the star's life, lonliness still crowded me.
That night I returned to my local bar, one I rarely visited anymore. I entered and a couple of people approached me; asking for autographs and pictures. I obliged, knowing it was boost my rep and proceeded to sit down on one of the vacant stools.
"Usual Miss Lopez?" Carlos asked, winking at me.
"Not tonight. Beer please."
"As you wish." He walked away, grabbing a Budweiser and opening it before placing it on a coster infront of me.
"Thanks."
I took a swig before deciding this probably wasn't the best idea - I was in the public eye now, getting drunk in a random bar wouldn't go down to well with the papers. I called Jen, my PA and she sent a limo to pick me up. Exiting wasn't as easy as entering though, paparazzi swarmed me, throwing microphones in my face and yelling questions. It was a classic New York night, the neon signs were bright, the skyline illuminated and the moon shining down on the sidewalk. Which was covered by hundreds of fans as well as paparazzi.
News spreads fast, huh?
I managed to edge my way through the crowd, pushing past the arms that appeared in front of me. Buzz, my personal bodyguard, exited the black limo and headed towards me. Several bright lights flashed as pictures were being taken of me and he grabbed my arm, pulling me behind him, barging others out the way. About two metres away from me, I heard a question that caught my attention;
"What do you have to say about the rumours between you and Matt Rutherford? Pictured earlier today having an intense conversation?"
I raised my eyebrows and rolled my eyes before turning to face the blonde, pale skinned man. Might as well clear up any rumours that are going round already.
"He's my friend. We knew each other in high school. I hadn't seen him in a while, so we had a quick catch up."
I responded truthfully before turning back towards the car. I felt an arm on me, but it was quickly removed as Buzz snapped it away. A crunching sound came from the contact; but I ducked and took a seat inside the limo. Jen was sitting opposite me; sipping on a glass of champagne and staring at me. She was obviously chewing her tongue, an annoying habit she developed since being my PA, and giving me the 'you should know better' look.
She was an attractive women, a pretty British brunette with neat librarian glasses. Her hair tied up into a bun a sticking out from it. She was dressed in a dark grey blazer, purple frilly V necked blouse that dipped just above her cleavage, and a tight, dressy skirt that finished above the knee. I could probably fancy the pants off her if it wasn't for the memory of her. Plus no-one knew I was gay, it'd never come of interest. I guess with every celebrity, they were assumed straight until proved otherwise.
"What Jen?" I snapped. "Why are you giving me that look?"
"You went out, didn't tell anyone where you were going, didn't take your phone and are now getting arsey at me because you fucked up."
"Mom? You're alive?" I said sarcastically. "Oh wait, you're not my fucking mom. So if you want to keep your job and your reputation I'd shut up. Within two minutes of firing you I can make sure you won't be able to be hired from here to Ohio." The name came naturally, I didn't even specially mean there, but it had just happened.
"Sorry Boss." She muttered before dipping her head back to her Blackberry. "Apparently you had a secret rendevous with Matt Rutherford on 42nd street earlier? Is anything going on there?"
"For the millionth time today, I ran into him, accidently, and caught up with him."
"I need to know every detail to handle the press." She exclaimed, inferring I was lying.
"Look Jen, you're a great PA, but you're not me. You're not my conscience and you're sure as hell not my best friend. So no, I'm not fucking Matt, never have..."
Okay, slight lie there. But she didn't know and he wouldn't tell.
"...And never will. I knew him in high school, and it was nice to catch up with someone." I finished, shooting the Santana Scowl at her.
"Okay." She typed furiously into her Blackberry, obviously hurt by my remark. Not that I cared, everyone knew I was a bitch so once again - had to live up to it.
We arrived outside my apartment building, I now had a studio penthouse overlooking Brooklyn Bridge. The view was mesmerising. After moving in here a month ago, I hadn't even had the time to unpack. After having to travel up twenty-three floors; my apartment was only a corridoor away. I'd bought the whole level, after agreeing with Jen that it would probaby be best not to have the public around.
The apartment was coated in white paint, as soon as you walked in you'd approach a massive living room. The kitchen was intertwined was next door, only blocked off with a half wall. The kitchen was massive, like huge. It was mostly black marble with the occasional glass counter top, and a breakfast island smack bang in the middle. The sink had a massive window overlooking the East River, which at night was definitely something to stare at. The bedroom was a few metres away, as you entered you'd be amazed by the king bed right in front of you. The wall behind the bed was cupboards, and the bed slightly dipped underneath higher cabinets. The colours consisted of soft browns, a few oranges and mostly neutral colours like beige and white, and the best part of the apartment was the balcony.
As soon as you stepped out the sliding glass doors, the view of the entire Brooklyn Bridge as well as miles of New York and the East River was visible. There was a hot tub bubbling constantly to the left, and on the right was a couple of sun loungers and a BBQ area. I'd never really used them due to my schedule, but it didn't matter to me all that much.
I climbed out the limo, waving Jen and Buzz goodbye. The bell boy smiled at me as always, his gaze fixing on my bra that just slightly stuck over the top of my tight red dress. The elevator man greeted me and accompanied me in the elevator, making small talk as we ascended.
"Good evening Miss Lopez."
"Good evening Raj." I replied cheerfully.
"How was your day?"
"Tiring, looking forward to a night in with my two boyfriends, Ben & Jerry." I smiled and his eyes beamed. He was an attractive, indian man who'd come to America in search of stardom, but instead he winded up pressing buttons all day. The doors opened and he spoke once more;
"Sounds Good Miss Lopez, enjoy your night." I turned away, catching his gaze fixed on my ass. At least he tried to be subtle, unlike that pervy bell boy.
I unlocked my door and chucked my keys on the side table. A clink sound was made as it hit the glass, and I instantly flinched. I didn't bother turning the lights on as I knew where I was headed. I exhaled heavily; feeling the loneliness creep over my shoulder and I turned into the kitchen, before opening the liquor cabinet and grabbing the bottle of vodka. I poured a glass and chucked it down, feeling the burn as it descended into my stomach. I had my hands pressed either side of the sink, watching the sky line as life went on for everyone else. My mind wandered for a few minutes thinking of my journey to stardom. It was only 18 months ago that I was waking up from a coma, alone, to a Latina nurse telling me she didn't know of anyone who'd visited me in the four months I was out.
I shook my head, removing the thoughts before turning and plopping myself down on the black corner sofa. I spread my legs out and could still fit about four people on it, spread out. It took up most of my living room; but I had nothing else to fill it with so why not? I had a 65 inch Plasma HD Ready 3D TV and all these material things - but it still didn't fill the void. I switched it on, hoping some boring reality TV show would send me to sleep. But as I found Desperate Housewives, I heard a noise coming from the bedroom. I was all alone so I hopped over the back of the couch, crouching to grab the baseball bat I stored underneath it before approaching the bedroom door. I pushed it open gently and flicked on the switch. A blonde head of hair caught my eye and I immediately dropped my weapon; my eyes widening with shock.
"Santana."
So what do you think guys? Good cliffhanger? Please review with any comments, good or bad! I need some feedback to fuel my writing!