Oh my God. Just leave me alone to die. Nothing kills my will to write more than Glee, lmao. Fuck you, Glee, I'm trying to survive here!
Never fear, though, I will never give up on this story, or Brittana. Because they are always on, and so is my AC because where the fuck did winter in Florida go?! We seriously had like three days below 70.
Anyways. Sorry for the late update. This chapter and the next were supposed to be one big chapter, but as usual, that doesn't happen because I can't stop writing. Seriously, someone needs to tell me to STFU.
The good news is that I should have another update for you guys on Monday, but don't hold your breath because then if you pass out and die I'll feel really awful.
Thanks to everyone who read the last chapter. You guys are great. Bigger thanks to everyone who favorited and/or followed the story, you guys are greater! Biggest, jumbo-sized thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter- you guys are the greatest!
Hope y'alls enjoy this chapter, just remember that this story is M-rated. ;)
"I can't believe I'm watching this movie," I muttered for probably the fiftieth time since it started.
"Shut up and pass me the popcorn," Quinn growled, reaching across my lap to snatch the bowl off of Brittany's. Brittany's face fell as the popcorn relocated into Quinn's lap, and I grabbed it back, placing it in my own lap, so Brittany could still reach it.
"Share," I hissed to Quinn.
Quinn rolled her eyes, but made no attempt to take the popcorn back, and Brittany beamed at me adoringly, reaching into the bowl to grab some more popcorn.
"Can you guys be quiet over there?" Mercedes asked, sounding annoyed. Of course she was- she probably didn't want to watch this bullshit movie, either.
"Yeah, some of us are actually trying to watch the movie," Kurt said seriously, and I laughed, because, really?
"No one's actually trying to watch this movie," I corrected. Sam sighed.
We were all gathered in the entertainment room, crowded around the television. Quinn, Brittany and I were on the couch, Sam and Mercedes were on the loveseat, Kurt and Blaine were on the floor and Arty had pulled up a chair. We were doing something we labeled as "intel" but in reality we were watching a movie that most of us, with the exception of Blaine (who was nodding his head during the musical numbers and mouthing the lyrics, barf), were not enjoying.
"He's such a hottie," Sugar piped up from her place on the recliner.
Oh, right. I'd forgotten she was there, too. Because she actually wanted to watch the stupid movie. And because I tried to pretend she didn't actually exist- unless I needed something.
It's not exactly how I would've liked to spend my night, but we didn't have much of a choice. Because guess what? That concert artist I joked about a while back?
Yeah, well.
It turned out to be reality.
And so the nine of us were spending our Thursday night watching a movie.
About Justin Bieber.
Fuck. My. Life.
"Well, that was the worst way to spend 105 minutes of my time," I stated once the end credits rolled.
"And you can never get those back," Arty chimed in.
"You've gotta hand it to the kid, though, he's pretty impressive," Sam said conversationally.
I blinked, because. What?
"He's really sweet to his fans," Mercedes agreed.
I rolled my eyes. "Are you guys sick? I think you're coming down with a case of Bieber Fever."
Brittany's eyes widened. "Is that real?"
Blaine laughed. "He's pretty attractive, but I'm not sure I'm into him."
"Really? Because you seemed to know all of his songs and looked pretty into the movie," Quinn pointed out with a smirk. Blaine blushed.
"He was just really devoted to the research," Kurt defended.
"Right, and I'm really devoted to Liza Minnelli's work," I said with another eye roll.
"Who's Liza Minnelli?" Brittany wondered as Quinn gave me a low five in slow motion.
Kurt's eyes widened in horror at Brittany's statement, but then Sam spoke. "Regardless, I think we learned a lot about the kid, and what to expect at his concert on Sunday." Trust Sam to bring us back to the boring shit.
Mercedes nodded. "True. We need to figure out when he's going to be getting into town-"
"Tomorrow," Sugar interrupted casually. Oh, yeah. I forgot she was still in the room. I looked at her; she was leaned way back in her recliner, looking totally relaxed. Her pet sugar glider was curled up and asleep on her chest. "And he's staying at the Hilton down the street from the Convention Center."
"That's kind of a haul out of town," Arty pointed out. "We should think about staying the night out there in the city."
"Like, rent a hotel? Do you know how much the Hilton costs?" I demanded.
"Because money is the issue," Sugar rolled her eyes.
I blinked. She had a point. "Well, in that case, let's go! I could be down for a night- or two- at the Hilton."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Sam said seriously. "We need a plan." Like that ever fucking mattered, our plans never worked-
"That's your job," Quinn stated.
Sam gawked. "Okay. Uh. How about this- we fly up tomorrow, check out the venue, see if we can spy Justin- then, we. Uh-"
"-stay at the Hilton, do some more spying on Saturday and Sunday morning, and crash the concert Sunday night," I finished.
"Sounds reasonable," Arty said. "I'm in."
Blaine nodded. "Likewise."
Sugar sat up in her recliner, scooping up her pet marsupial in her hands and climbing to her feet. "I'll book your rooms," she said, bored, wandering out of the room. Like I cared. Although- it was nice having someone to do everything for us. Like a personal assistant to our little band of freaks. She was like the Pepper Potts to-
Okay, woah. That's a lot inaccurate.
But whatever. You get the idea.
[So how'd you manage to convince your parents to let you away for the weekend?] Kurt asked conversationally as we flew miles above the ground towards our destination in another city.
[Yeah, especially since they still think you're blind,] Mercedes chimed in.
[I told them I was going away to a rehab spa retreat with Arty,] Blaine said.
[Sounds romantic,] I said. [I'm sure your parents are thrilled that you and Arty are spending so much quality time.]
If Kurt could've, I'm sure he would've glared hard at me. As it turns out, though, hawks are pretty much always glaring, so he had no effect. Not that he would've even if his face wasn't fixed in an eternal glare.
We were all in bird forms and had been flying for hours. We'd already stopped to re-transform once, and still had quite a way to go. I kind of just wondered why we didn't get Lauren to drive us in the Pedo-van, but the last thing we needed was to be spotted or tailed by the Yeerks. It was bad enough we were supposedly walking into some kind of secret Yeerk plot to infest Justin Bieber.
Did that sound retarded to you? Because it totally is.
After what seemed like days of flying, we finally came upon the Hilton. Or at least, I hoped it was the right one. I'd only been to the Convention Center once to see an Alanis Morisette concert (don't judge me) so I didn't really know the area that well.
Unlike some people.
[That's it,] Kurt said.
[Come here often?] Sam asked.
[As a matter of fact, yes,] Kurt said before I could crack a joke about Sam's pick-up line pun. [There were Bette Midler and Barbra Streisand tribute concerts here recently, as well as-]
[Oh, wow, I didn't think it was possible for you to get gayer,] I said, feigning awe.
[Anything's possible,] Quinn said. Since she was the biggest bird in her bald eagle form, we had fitted her with a tiny little fanny pack to carry the paper stuff we'd need to check in to the hotel- like Sugar's credit card.
[I think it's cool,] Blaine said. [I can appreciate your good taste, Kurt.]
[Tell me you're joking!] I demanded, appalled.
[Thank you, Blaine,] Kurt said pointedly. [It seems there are some people in this world with an appreciation for the arts.]
[Oh, I'm sure the arts is what he has an appreciation for,] Quinn teased.
[Nice, Q.]
[Wasn't it?]
[Do you two always have to gang up on me?] Kurt sighed.
[Uh. Yeah. What else would we have done on this boring ass flight?] I asked. [Be grateful Brittany hasn't joined in yet.]
[I guess there are some things to be thankful for.]
[Blaine obviously wants your dick,] Brittany said monotonously.
It was silent for approximately ten whole seconds, and then Quinn and I burst out laughing.
[Nevermind,] Kurt muttered, embarrassed.
[Okay, so we check in to the hotel, then we split into teams. Half of us stay here to search for Justin, and the other half fly out to the venue to get a feel for the backstage area and figure out where the Yeerks are going to try and infest him. We have to know what we're going into,] Sam said, sounding all business as we perched on the edge of the roof of the Hilton hotel. Or at least, trying to sound all business. But it was Sam, so it was kind of hard to take him seriously. [Any questions?]
I raised my wing. [Yeah, hi, I have a question: how the fuck do we even check in to the hotel?] I asked, annoyed. [What if it's run by Yeerks? If Sugar knows where Biebs is staying, then the Yeerks obviously do. They must have some people at the hotel to keep watch over him. We can't risk being spotted- and we're kind of on the Yeerks' Most Wanted list, ya feels me?]
[Hadn't thought of that,] Sam admitted.
[Because we never do,] I snapped.
[Because we always fly-] Quinn started.
[-by the seat of our pants!] Brittany finished, way more enthusiastic than she should've been. It still made me smile inside, though.
Sam chuckled despite the situation. [Okay, well, Santana: you and I always manage to talk our way through these situations. We'll get some disguises, and we'll check everyone in.]
[You really like trying my patience, don't you, Trouty?]
[It's my favorite pastime,] Sam said wryly.
"I just need you to sign this, Mrs. Rivera," the soft-spoken black guy (girl?) behind the hotel counter said, shoving some papers in my direction- yeah, I used my fake ID, so what? It's not like I could actually give them my real name and information. If I did that, I might as well've just put a huge fucking neon sign pointing at me saying, "here I am! Please come and enslave me!" We had no way of knowing if the person behind the counter was a Controller, which was why Sam and I were currently in disguises- and, well, you should know by now how seriously I take my disguises.
I silently looked at Sam, trying not to break character and playing the part of an obedient- but not clearly understanding- wife.
"I a-need you to sign a-these!" Sam said in the worst Italian accent ever attempted, basically reiterating what the guy (girl?) behind the counter had said. The person's nametag said "~Unique~" (complete with the flourish) but I wasn't sure if that was their name, or their life signature, or their job title, or what… I tried not to roll my eyes at Sam's terrible accent and disguise as I moved to sign the papers. He kind of looked like a bigger-lipped version of Mario, complete with a cap to hide the fact that his blond hair did not match his thick, bushy, black stick-on mustache. He was wearing a button-up Hawaiian shirt that was so bright I'm pretty sure it was blinding me, and orange flip-flops.
Yes, I'm completely serious.
And me? Well, to describe my disguise in a few words, let's just say I went all Arabian Nights up in that bitch. Look, the only place to buy disguises nearby was a small outdoor tent in some kind of craft fair in the courtyard by the Convention Center, so there wasn't a whole lot of normal shit to choose from. Besides, I think I looked pretty damn smokin' in my glittery red veil.
Eat your heart out, Princess Jasmine.
After we finished signing the papers, Sam thanked "~Unique~"- yeah, still wondering about that- and led me away, avoiding the strange looks we gained from the other hotel patrons. As we exited the entrance lobby and entered the actual building, we were greeted with a huge fountain, marble floors, real trees, and gold-plated- well- everything. I hadn't ever stayed at such a fancy hotel before, so I was eating that shit up. But let's be honest, I might as well get used to it, because after the war, I was going to be famous.
"Up a-to the third floor, the map a-says," Sam said, and this time I couldn't stop the eye roll if I tried, but I was just so tired of fighting it. We boarded the elevator (which had like, carpet and shit in it) and rode it up to the third floor, which wasn't exactly the penthouse, but compared to every other hotel I'd ever been in, it might as well have been.
Once we unlocked one of the four rooms Sugar had booked for us (I know, right?), we quickly opened up the balcony doors and waved. Six birds swooped carefully down, one by one, into the room and began to transform. While they were changing, I shut the blinds to the balcony. We were on the third floor, but some creeper with binoculars could've easily seen into our room. And let's be real, there are a lot of creepers with binoculars hanging around, especially when celebrities are involved.
Once everyone was transformed, and Brittany was human, Arty started laughing at our disguises. "Seriously? That's the best you could come up with?"
"How about: go fuck yourself," I snapped, showing him my middle finger.
"Calm down, Shiva," Quinn smirked.
I rolled my eyes. "Actually, my name is Naya Rive-"
"Can we focus?" Kurt interrupted.
"I'm sorry, it's hard to focus with Sam looking like-" Mercedes trailed off, trying to hold in her laugh.
"I think they look great," Brittany said. I smiled at her, but felt my face heating up as I noticed her extremely appreciative leering. I suddenly remembered that most of my outfit consisted of skimpy see-through silk and all of my stomach and cleavage was just out there for any ol' person to perv on. But I didn't mind Brittany perving on me. I smiled, winked subtly at Brittany, and then Sam spoke.
"Okay, you all know a-your room assignments," he said, waving his hand emphatically.
"Sammy, we're not in public anymore- fortunately- so please refrain from using that god-awful accent," I said. Sam looked like I just kicked his puppy, and I felt bad for, like, a fraction of a second, so I huffed and said, "Look, you'll have plenty of chances to use it again later, all right?"
Sam brightened a little. He gestured to Kurt. "Our room is across the hall."
"Lead the way," Kurt said, following Sam out.
I turned to Mercedes. "You and Quinn are rooming together." I handed them a key. "It's the one next door." I pointed in the direction. "Blaine, you're with Arty on the other side of Quinn and Mercedes." I handed them their key as well. I grinned. "And Britt, you're with me."
"Like that wasn't totally obvious and planned," Quinn said good-naturedly with a roll of her eyes.
I smirked and shrugged. "What can I say, some things do turn out in my favor." I waved them away. "Go check out your rooms, then meet back here in five; Sam wants to discuss the next step in our brilliant plan."
Blaine chuckled and Arty followed him out, then Mercedes, then Quinn, who paused long enough to shoot me a suspicious raised eyebrow look over her shoulder as she exited. I gave her a tiny smug wave as she left, then turned to Brittany.
My eyes caught hers and I gulped.
Her blue eyes were dark and tracing over my body, and I kind of felt like a rabbit being regarded by a fox.
"Like what you see?" I asked teasingly, smirking at her and running my hand down my side to accentuate my outfit. Brittany nodded absently, and her gaze was so intense and lingering that I swore I could almost feel it on my skin, like a tingle setting all my nerves on fire.
Brittany stepped closer, her warm hands sliding across my bare stomach, and I gasped slightly at her touch. It was like a jolt of electricity to me, and I felt my body heating up as Brittany leaned down and kissed me roughly. Her hands slid to the small of my back, pulling me flush against her, and my arms immediately flew around her neck, embracing her fully as her tongue invaded my mouth.
I couldn't help the slight moan that worked its way out of my throat as she continued to kiss me thoroughly, and without realizing it, I felt the back of my thighs hit something, some piece of furniture or whatever, and then I was being lifted and set down on top of it. I guess it was a dresser or-
"Britt-" I gasped between kisses. She was relentless; her hands were gripping my thighs and she pulled me in close to her body, and I had no choice but to wrap my legs around her waist. But, we couldn't-
"Britt," I tried again, and this time she stopped kissing me and instead attacked my neck. I clenched my fist in her hair as I felt her teeth graze my skin. "We only have five minutes," I murmured next to her ear, but it was hard for me to care with all the amazing things she was doing to my neck with her mouth. One of her hands slid up my stomach to grope my breasts, and I let my head fall back against the wall in ecstasy. My whole body was throbbing, it had been too long since Brittany had touched me- we just hadn't had time, but now that she was, I felt like everything was too much and not enough all at once. Her fingers found my nipple and I made a pretty embarrassing sound. Then, she- oh, fuck-
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
"Oh, fuck," I cursed angrily. Perfect fucking timing. I contemplated just leaving whoever was at the door there in favor of letting Brittany finish what we'd started. I was so turned on it could probably be quick. And I could definitely pretend I hadn't heard the door, right?
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Brittany met my gaze.
"Oh, fuck everything," I growled, hopping down from the dresser. I paused to give Brittany a gentle kiss on the lips. I cupped her cheek, stroking my thumb over it, and then daringly bit her lower lip softly, tugging it, teasing her. Her breath hitched, her grip on me tightening, and I smiled. "I promise we will finish this later," I breathed. I leaned in to kiss her again-
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Oh my fucking GOD I AM GOING TO DESTROY YOU," I raged at the door as I ripped it open, revealing Sam, still in his ridiculous fucking mustache, and Kurt, who looked like he knew exactly what Brittany and I had been doing but interrupted anyway- urgghh. "COME THE FUCK IN, IMPATIENT ASSHOLES."
"Jeez, Santana. Inside voices," Kurt said smugly from the doorway. I contemplated strangling him.
Sam quietly walked into the room with Kurt, who was sporting a rather pleased smirk on his feminine-looking lips, right behind him. Sam greeted Brittany, who gave him a glare that was a cross between annoyed, sexually frustrated, and pissed the fuck off- an exact copy of my look, really- and Sam scratched his head, confused.
"Uh, did I interrupt-"
"Yes," Brittany and I said in unison.
KNOCK. KNO-
I flung the door open quickly to reveal Blaine, who still had his fist raised, ready to knock again. He looked terrified at my expression. And, well, he should be. I was fully prepared to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. "Come in," I grumbled. Quinn and Mercedes came in just as I was closing the door, and finally we were all gathered.
I sat on the end of the bed and crossed my arms. My body was still strung tight, but the denial of my release had instantly turned my arousal into frustration. I really just wanted everyone to leave so that Brittany could-
"Okay," Sam started, rubbing his hands together in excitement. "We've got a lot to get done: we've gotta find Justin, and also discover the lay-out of the stage area so that we can guess where the Yeerks are going to set up their Little Shop of Horrors."
"Feed me, Seymour," Blaine said abruptly in a deep voice. Kurt looked like he might faint from adoration. I just rolled my eyes and tried to hold on to my patience, which was slowly- okay, no, quickly- creeping away.
Sam grinned at Blaine's acknowledgement of his reference (nothing pleases Sam more than people getting his references). "So- we split up into teams. Mercedes, Arty and I will stay here and check out the hotel, see if we can find Justin's room. Quinn, you take Brittany and check out some of the stuff around close to the hotel."
"What kind of stuff?" Quinn asked skeptically.
"Like, places you think Justin might go. The gas station, the club, anywhere. You don't have to go into the places. Just ask around, see if anyone's seen him, or if he's inside. If he is, then wait and tail him when he leaves. Have Brittany ask, since Controllers won't recognize her. And if stuff gets out of hand, she can transform quickly and be ready while you do the same."
Quinn nodded, smiling at Brittany, who returned it. "Sounds good."
"Santana-" Sam started.
"I'll go with Q and Britt," I cut in.
"Uh- no. You're with Kurt and Blaine-"
"Absolutely not."
"-to check out the Convention Center," Sam finished, ignoring my blatant protests.
"That's really okay," I offered graciously. "I can go with Quinn-"
"No," Sam said firmly. His eyes met mine. "I need you with them."
"Why? Like I know the fucking place? I was only there once for a concert!" I complained.
"What concert?" Blaine asked, genuinely interested.
I snapped my fingers at him. "Not imp-"
"Alanis Morisette," Quinn said quickly, betraying me.
I turned to glare at her, fuming. "Q!" Quinn shrugged carelessly in response. Bitch.
"Santana," Sam said softly, bringing my attention, and, consequently, my anger, back to him. "It's more times than the rest of us have been there."
I sighed in irritation, but I knew I wasn't getting out of it.
"Fine."
I really should've tried to get out of it harder.
Team Gay Minus Brittany was not as exciting as any other Team Gay. Kurt and Blaine spent the entire time flirting and conversing about- well- gay shit, and I sulked along behind them, missing Brittany more than I ever thought possible.
Especially since I had to listen to the most irritating conversation in the world. I couldn't even tune it out- it was that awful.
[On the count of three, name your favorite 2012 Vogue cover,] Kurt said enthusiastically. [One, two, three!]
[Marion Cotillard!] Blaine and Kurt said at the same time, then they giggled together. I wondered if my bird form could throw up. I'm sure it could, I mean, that's how baby birds got fed-
[Oh my god, stop it!] Blaine gushed.
[I know, I kn-]
[No, really- stop it,] I cut in. [I'm not sure I can take much more of this repulsive conversation.]
[Someone's jealous,] Blaine sang.
[Get over it,] Kurt said, annoyed. [How many times did I have to watch you and Brittany make out?]
[First off, you should be thankful I even let you witness Brittany and I making out. Second- you're welcome.]
[Wait- you're dating Brittany?] Blaine asked, confused.
[Wait- you have brains?]
[Don't mind her, Blaine,] Kurt said soothingly. [She's just mad because we interrupted her failed attempt to get some horizontal action before the mission.]
[Actually, we were doing just fine vertically, if you must know.]
[No, I really didn't.]
[Well-]
[It looks like there's something going on at the Convention Center,] Blaine stated suddenly, bringing my attention back to the mission before I could cut Kurt down with a crippling insult. [The parking lot's full.]
[We should've checked the line-up,] Kurt said as we circled around to the back of the building.
[Too late now. Let's see if we can sneak in backstage.] I swooped down towards the loading dock. The overhead door was cracked open about a foot, letting light spill out into the darkness of the area. A huge truck was backed up to the door, but there was no one in sight. How extremely fortunate.
I landed near the door and hopped over to the opening, lowering my head slightly to peek inside. Two guys were standing there chatting softly about some stupid football team, and I briefly looked around to see if there was any way we could hop in without them noticing. They weren't looking towards us, but if they suddenly turned around, they'd definitely notice two predator birds and a canary strolling into the building. But it didn't really look like we had much of a choice otherwise.
[What's it look like in there?] Blaine asked.
[There's two guys talking. We can probably just walk in- we just have to be careful and move as quickly as possible to avoid them seeing us,] I said.
[Then what?] Kurt asked.
[Then we transform and look around. Hopefully no one will notice we don't belong. Just try to stick to the shadows.] I took another look around the room. The two guys were still chatting away about football, so I began to walk under the door. [I'm going for it.]
I carefully shuffled my little bird feet across the floor as fast as I could go. It was awkward- I wasn't used to walking as a bird, and my long, curved talons didn't exactly make it easy. I ended up moving almost sideways on a diagonal, and finally I was out of sight, tucked away in a dark hallway. I began my transformation back to human.
[Oh, they're talking about the New Mexico Bowl!] Blaine said excitedly from the other room as he be-bopped towards the hallway I was in. [That Arizona game was intense!]
[You watch football?] Kurt asked incredulously.
[I'm a college football fan,] Blaine said nonchalantly. [I like sports too, you know.]
[Oh, way to break the stereotype!] Kurt said around a mouthful of Blaine's dick.
Oops, I mean-
"Can you two just shut up and transform," I hissed in a whisper as they finally reached me.
[Why do you hate everything?] Blaine asked in a huff.
"I don't hate everything- just you," I whispered as they began to transform. When they finished, I began to walk down the hall, with both of them tailing behind me.
"Have you read Patti LuPone's new book?" Kurt asked in a whisper. Wow, they just couldn't stop, could they?
"Who's Patti LuPone?" Blaine wondered. It was silent (I briefly hoped Kurt had dropped dead from a heart attack at Blaine's response, but there was no immediate thud of his body hitting the floor, so I was disappointed) and then Blaine laughed slightly. "I'm kidding! Of course I have!" Ugh, just when I was actually starting to like Blaine, he goes and ruins it.
"You scared me so much there," Kurt confessed breathlessly. I found myself growing increasingly more frustrated- either from the fact that being with the two of them together was enraging, or that I craved Brittany's company, who the fuck cares? They were really annoying the fuck out of me.
"This is great. Thank you," I said sweetly, turning to them to offer them the most enthusiastically sarcastic smile I could muster. "Now I get to spend time with two pretty ponies instead of just one." Kurt gave me a sour look and I spun on my heel to continue walking. Kurt and Blaine stayed blessedly silent after that.
We continued moving carefully through the building. We weren't directly behind the stage, so we didn't actually run in to any of the tech people. And there wasn't really anyone else hanging out in the passages. We searched around, looking for any place that the Yeerks could use to possibly infest the Biebs. It was dark except for small intermittent floor lights, and the floor plan was unfamiliar, but eventually we turned down a hallway that led us to a series of doors- dressing rooms. They had numbers on them, starting with the number five and working their way down the farther away they got.
The last one- it had a zero on it; weird, right?- was the farthest from the stage, and judging by the proximity to the other rooms, it must've been huge inside. I paused to listen for a moment, and when I didn't hear any noise from inside, I reached for the door handle.
"Should we really be going in there?" Kurt asked in a vehement whisper.
I glared at him. "We came to investigate. If we don't go in, we won't know where the Yeerks are going to set up. This could be a storage closet for all we know."
"I think we've learned a lot already," Blaine offered softly, obviously siding with Kurt.
I rolled my eyes. "And I think you look like a young Burt Reynolds." Blaine scrunched his enormous eyebrows up in confusion, and Kurt glared at me. I sighed, suddenly realizing the reason Sam had made me come along. Maybe Trouty knew more than I gave him credit for. "Look, we need to check this place out. So stop being a bunch of whimpering pansies and let's check it out." I focused back on the door and turned the handle, then pushed it open.
There was a dim light on, half-illuminating the room, and there was some kind of red velvet curtain or canopy hanging from the ceiling in the center of it. Uh, okay. Weird. I entered the room with Kurt and Blaine right behind me. Costume pieces were flung all over the floor and I stepped carefully to avoid tripping. Kurt veered to the left, towards a huge, plush loveseat; Blaine headed to the right, where there was a large vanity mirror set up, and I moved forward towards the canopy. There was a huge, ornate trunk sitting next to the soft, hanging material- the lid was popped open. Inside were a bunch of weird novelty items. Playing cards, coins, a saw, silk scarves, flower bouquets-
"It's a magic show," I said, suddenly putting the pieces together.
"What is?" Blaine asked.
"The show that's going on right now- it's some type of magic show." I bent to retrieve a strange vase from the trunk, holding it up and inspecting it carefully. Well, that explained why the only clothing kiosks we found in the courtyard outside were all eccentric costumes. I rolled my eyes.
"Oh," Blaine said.
"Well, this is the ideal location to infest a celebrity," Kurt pointed out. "As far as we can tell, it's the main dressing room- it's private, there's a lock," he gestured to the door, "and it's relatively far from the stage, so no interruptions."
"Right," I agreed, reaching for the velvet canopy curtain next to the trunk and tugging on it. "I think we found our-"
I froze.
The tiger behind the curtain blinked at me.
It definitely wasn't wearing a collar.
"Shit."
I jumped back automatically, releasing the curtain and backing away, and wondered why the tiger hadn't made its presence known before. Maybe it had just been lazy. Maybe it mistook us for its owners. Maybe it just hadn't cared.
But it definitely cared now.
The tiger was on its feet and exiting the canopy in seconds. The exit happened to be on the left, right where Kurt was standing.
"Oh, my God!" Kurt shrieked, backing up quickly, his eyes wide in fear. Unfortunately, he tripped over some stupid cape that was crumpled on the floor, and landed on his ass. The tiger closed in on him. I was a few feet away, and I struggled to focus on transforming to cheetah. No way could I stop that thing as a human-
Blaine lunged forward, his hand grabbing the tiger's back leg, and I had just enough time to panic; that tiger was going to rip Blaine to shreds-
But instead, its head dropped. Its eyes fluttered closed. It was in a trance!
Blaine was acquiring it.
Of course. Why hadn't I thought of that?
"Get up," I hissed, reaching down to yank Kurt to his feet. "Once he breaks contact he's going to have seconds to get out of there. We need to be out the door before that happens." Kurt didn't say anything, only nodded vigorously, and I guided him to the door. He was shaking.
After a few long, tense moments, Blaine pulled his hand away and sprinted to the door, and we all scrambled through it and out into the hallway, practically climbing over each other in our haste. As I reached to pull the door closed, I saw the tiger's golden eyes snap open, but I was already shutting the door quickly.
I released a deep breath. "Holy fuck. That was too fucking close."
"Nice save," Kurt said- his voice wavered slightly- as he offered Blaine a genuine smile.
"Yeah, Eyebrows, I must admit- that was pretty quick thinking," I said.
Blaine beamed. "Thanks. I guess I have brains after all."
I smirked at him, giving him a brief nod of acknowledgement. "Now let's get the fuck out of here. I'm not interested in finding out what other kind of animals are in this magic show."
"No, shit- an actual tiger?" Arty asked in awe.
"Yeah," Blaine said.
"Well, at least you got a new avatar out of it," Sam said with a smile. "Good job, guys."
We were back in Sam and Kurt's hotel room, relaying what our separate teams had managed to find out. While I was in Gay Purgatory, Quinn and Brittany had managed to spot Bieber outside of the hotel, and followed him to some club called Club Ice. Creative, isn't it? He'd spent about an hour at the club before he'd been kicked out because after a certain time the club was 21 and up only. I'm not gonna lie, I laughed at the hilarity of it all.
Q and B tailed Bieber back to the hotel, where Sam, Arty and Mercedes had followed him inside like creepy stalker bugs and figured out where his hotel room was.
"Apparently, not being able to go clubbing hasn't deterred his party plans," Quinn said smugly. "He's throwing a hotel party instead."
"We should go," Arty suggested.
"No, thank you- the last person I want to hang out with is Justin Bieber. I don't care how good his boyish looks are," I said.
"Besides, we can't risk being spotted," Sam said. "I'm sure some of his people are Controllers. And as good as our disguises are-" I snorted, "-they will only make us stick out in a crowd like that."
"The good news is that, since he'll be up late, he'll probably get a late start tomorrow, which gives us plenty of time to catch up with him before he leaves his room," Mercedes pointed out.
"Right. We've gotta try and figure out what the Yeerks' plan is," Sam said with a firm nod. "So let's go to bed, and we'll reconvene in the morning."
"Reconvene?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow. "You've been waiting to say that, haven't you?"
Sam gave an embarrassed shrug.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed Brittany's hand. "We've gotta gay." I paused. "Go. We've gotta go."
"Mm-hm," Quinn said, sending me a smirk.
I ignored her and everyone else's knowing looks and headed for the door. Brittany smacked my ass on the way out, and I looked at her over my shoulder, not missing the blushes that were spreading over the others' faces behind her as we exited the room.
Whatever.
"I missed you so much," I murmured against Brittany's lips as she kissed me slowly, running her fingers through my hair. I sighed into her mouth, trying to press myself closer, but it was physically impossible. We were both lying on our sides on one of the beds, dressed in our pajamas. Brittany was cupping my chin with her left hand, her right playing with my hair. I had my right hand behind her neck, cradling her close; my left arm was lying across her waist, my hand splayed on the small of her back, pressed to her warm skin. We were straddling each other's thighs, and I relished the feeling of having her so close to me. I could feel the warmth emanating from everywhere on her body- her chest, her thigh between my legs, her center- I moaned softly into her mouth.
Brittany's grip on my hair tightened, and she pulled me unbelievably closer, her kiss growing harder, rougher. Her thigh pressed against me more firmly, and I gasped against her lips, shivering at the contact. I was already so turned on from her close proximity and the memory of where we had left off earlier in the day. My body seemed to respond eagerly, and without thinking I rolled my hips against her thigh, pushing my own against her at the same time.
Brittany's hand that was cupping my chin slid down to my chest, and without warning she thumbed my nipple through my shirt, working it into stiffness. I moaned louder, my hips thrusting more insistently against her, and she bit my lower lip teasingly. "I missed you, too," she said throatily, moving to kiss my chin. She nipped at my jaw and I closed my eyes, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the different sensations exploding inside me. I could feel my blood heating up, my heart pounding, my pulse racing under my skin. My center was throbbing, aching for friction, and I had to concentrate on not bucking my hips against Brittany like some kind of wild animal, because that's what my body was telling me to do, and I was barely above listening to it.
I felt Brittany's other hand leave my hair and trace down my neck, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. I shivered at her warm touch, and she slowly traced my exposed collarbone with her thumb before she moved to plant her lips there, sucking gently. My breath hitched. Her hand strayed lower, pushing my sleep shirt up a few inches, and my breathing increased. Her fingers teased my exposed skin, mapping from the small of my back around to my stomach, dipping under the waistband of my sleep shorts-
"You're so wet," Brittany breathed against my lips as I trembled against her. All I could do was nod and pant into her mouth as her fingers made contact with my most sensitive spot. My hips jerked forward involuntarily in response.
"Oh, God, Britt," I gasped, losing control of my hips. I needed her so badly-
"You're incredible, Santana," she whispered, reverent, and I whimpered into her neck as she made slow, deliberate circles with her fingers. My thighs began to shake. She was teasing me.
"Britt- fuck."
"Shh, San." Brittany kissed me, her tongue entering my mouth to stroke and curl around mine. We kissed and kissed, and all the while Brittany let her fingers move at an agonizingly unhurried pace. My hips tried to encourage her to go faster, but she was having none of that. I tried to focus on the feeling of her against my thigh- I could feel how turned on she was through her shorts, and I was suddenly overcome with the desire to touch her, too. I let my hand dive down beneath her shorts, and I wasted no time in mimicking her actions and taking satisfaction at hearing her strangled gasp against my lips. I marveled for a moment at how perfect Brittany and I were for each other- I was left-handed, so it made touching each other simultaneously in this position a lot easier.
Her whole body shuddered as I followed her pace. I couldn't believe how wet she was. She bucked her hips eagerly, but I copied the motions of her fingers against me. It gave me something to focus on besides my own aching, throbbing need-
"Santana," Brittany whimpered into my neck before she kissed it fervently, then sucked on it, then moaned again, her fingers picking up speed against me, making my breath hitch again. God, I loved the way she said my name like that. So- ugh. She licked up my neck, then pressed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to my jaw before she was kissing me fully on the lips, desperately, and I could feel her hips pushing against my hand more insistently.
I let my fingers slip lower, then drove two inside her without warning- she was more than ready for me. She entered me in response, and we moaned into each other's mouths. I pumped into her slowly, sensually, stroking up over her sensitive spot as I pulled out, building her up at a steady, leisurely pace. Her thrusts were a lot more erratic- she was losing control of herself quickly, and I could hear her breath coming in ragged gasps, her chest heaving.
I had to stop kissing her- stupid breathing- but I let my lips fall to the side of her chin, then her jaw. Brittany's left hand came up to grip the spot where my neck met my shoulder, and she held onto it tightly, as if bracing herself. Her body was trembling lightly, and she was rutting against my hand, desperate to find her release. I let my mouth fall to the base of her neck, and I sucked it hard, pushing my fingers into her harder, allowing my thumb to graze her sensitive spot at the same time-
Brittany came intensely, crying out her release into my neck. I could feel her breath against my skin, could feel her clenching around my fingers-
"Fuck," I gasped, my own orgasm taking me by complete surprise. I'd been so focused on making Brittany come that I hadn't realized how close I was. My hips jerked sporadically against Brittany's fingers, and I struggled to breathe, my face pressed against Brittany's neck. She tilted my chin up, and then she was kissing me again, languidly, her hips still rolling against me as she shook. I was shaking, too; she pulled away slightly to rest her sweaty forehead against mine, and we laid there in each other's arms, shivering and recovering for long moments. We were so close we were breathing each other's air, and Brittany let her thumb trace over my cheek absently while I reveled in our intimacy, in her nearness.
I laughed slightly when my heart rate had slowed down a little, smiling. "I love you."
Brittany beamed at me, and I felt my heart melting, despite the fact that it was still pounding quickly. Her eyes sparkled as she said, "I love you, too."
I kissed her again, and she kissed back, and we laid there kissing each other for a while until Brittany had to transform to re-start her time limit. I sighed. I hated the time limit.
Once human, she crawled back into bed with me, returning to the same position we were in, and I snuggled up to her. She stroked her fingers down my back soothingly, and before I knew it, I was asleep.
"So this may sound dumb, but… I thought you guys knew where his hotel room was," I accused, clearly irritated. It was early Saturday morning, and we had been waiting down the hall from Justin Bieber's hotel room for almost three hours. I was bored out of my mind and on the path to full-blown peeved, because we were in our disguises again- which meant I was prancing around as a badly-dressed Arabian Princess from an American version of a B-grade Bollywood movie. There had not been a single peep from Justin Bieber's supposed room, which was making me doubt that it was even his room, or occupied at all. Shouldn't there have been some activity coming from it within three hours? I mean, the guy was a celebrity- and he also had a concert rehearsal to go to, didn't he? Isn't that how shit worked?
"We do know where it is," Mercedes said. "We followed him here last night!" Okay, that didn't sound too creepy or stalker-ish. Not at all.
"This is it," Sam reassured, but even he sounded doubtful.
"But he hasn't left it all day," Blaine said, sounding just a little frustrated. Like I could blame him. I felt that way, myself, times ten.
"Well, he did party late," Arty reasoned, shrugging his shoulders.
"But he has shit to do," I grumbled. "He can't just sleep all day, can he?"
"He is a celebrity," Quinn said.
"Yeah, uh- here's a crazy idea: did anyone check the Convention Center? Maybe he left earlier than we got here, and he's doing sound checks or something," Kurt trailed off.
It was silent for a moment while I just breathed and struggled to hold on to my patience, which was running away faster than I could-
"Why do we never think these things through beforehand?!" I raged, throwing up my hands.
"It was an oversight," Sam mumbled.
"Every single time!" I growled. "And another thing: why do I let you come up with the plans?"
"Because you don't want the responsibility," Quinn pointed out. Okay, she had made a good observation. Like hell I wanted to be the leader of our sad group. Then I couldn't sit back and complain when shit went wrong, because it'd be my fault. Then again, if I was in charge, shit wouldn't go wrong in the first place… oh, dilemma.
Blaine turned to Sam. "You didn't check the Convention Center?"
"That's what you're for," Sam said, exasperated. "That's why I sent you three," he gestured to me, Blaine, and Kurt, "to scope out the center last night."
Kurt smirked evilly, looking at me. "Oh, she definitely scoped out some centers-"
I stood, completely shocked. "OH, MY GOD, THIS IS NOT HAPPENING-"
"Inside voices."
"Okay, but seriously, guys," Sam interrupted. "Here's what we will do- same as last night." Sam shrugged.
"Brilliant!" I said, enthused, clapping my hands politely.
Sam glared at me, but continued. "Santana, Kurt, Blaine: You three head back over to the Convention Center. If Justin is there, send Kurt back to find us." Kurt nodded. "Arty and I will stay here and watch in case, by some weird chance, he's still in his room. Quinn, Brittany, Mercedes: fly around close by. Stay within thought-speak range of each other, though. See if you can spot him."
"Aye-aye, Captain," Mercedes said with a grin.
I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help it.
So, Justin was at the Convention Center. That much was certain. We found his crew and his PR and every other person pertaining to him, but not him. Finding Justin was a lot harder than I thought, especially since the Convention Center wasn't really that big. I kind of wondered how the paparazzi managed to track him down all the time, like maybe there were some secret journalism stalking techniques I should know about. Not that I wanted to stalk anyone- but they might be helpful to me for when I'm famous and need to avoid the paparazzi.
Yeah, we're going there.
Amazingly, no one stopped us despite our weird disguises. (Kurt looked like he was auditioning for a part in Phantom of the Opera, complete with a fucking cape and a white face mask, and Blaine was wearing an eye patch- like that really covered his face. Amateur.) They all just assumed that we were left over from the magic show the previous night, and since we knew our way around (sort of) our confidence pretty much confirmed that we belonged there. Besides, everyone else had other shit to focus on, like getting ready for the concert. No one paid any mind to an Arabian Princess and her two pet gays.
But despite the easy access, we had zero luck hunting Bieber down, and in the end, it was her voice that eventually clued us in to where he might be.
"Why the fuck is Rachel here?" I hissed, a little outraged, around the corner from where she was talking to the exact person we were looking for. Like I seriously needed more irritating factors contributing to this mission? Like the fact that I had to deal with Justin Bieber wasn't torturous enough, the universe decided to add more misery? Fuck my life!
"Who's Rachel?" Blaine asked curiously. I wanted to either cry with happiness at the fact that he didn't know who Rachel was, or murder him from jealousy of the fact that he didn't know who Rachel was. Lucky. Bastard.
"She's probably in charge of this mission," Kurt said, intentionally deepening his voice. Rachel was his friend (sort of) so we couldn't risk her recognizing his voice. "Like how Tina was in charge of the Kandrona."
"Is that some kind of a joke?" I demanded, giving Kurt a murderous glare. "Tina wasn't even there! And to be honest, I would've rather encountered her at the Kandrona and let Rachel be the mysteriously absent one! I'd deal with Tina over Rachel any fucking day."
"We don't have to deal with her. We just have to find Justin," Kurt said calmly.
"Well, we fucking found him," I grumbled. "Unfortunately, the price of finding him is a little more than I want to pay."
"Is she really that bad?" Blaine wondered.
I looked at him meaningfully.
And then Rachel's voice began to fade into the distance.
"She's leading him somewhere," Kurt said quietly. "We've got to follow them. Carefully."
"Or we could just beat Rachel unconscious. Maybe the sight of her will scare Bieber away from doing this concert," I whispered hopefully as we crept carefully around the corner. I paused. "No, if the sight of her face hasn't scared him away, I doubt the improvement my fists would make on it would."
Blaine snorted, and we continued to move sneakily down the hall and around a few more corners, following the sound of Rachel's obnoxious voice. God, did she ever stop talking? Doesn't she need to breathe? I guess breathing is only for humans, and Rachel is clearly some sub-form, like how Gollum is a degenerative version of a Hobbit-
CLICK!
The sound of a door closing snapped me out of my thoughts and we hurried to catch up to the door. It was connected to a room waaaay in the back of the Convention Center- shit, uh, we didn't find that, oops- and I began to panic at what might be happening behind that door. "What if she's infesting him?" I asked in a whisper, voicing our worst possible outcome for this mission.
"What if she's not?" Kurt shot back. "We can't just barge in there."
"But we've gotta get in there, regardless," I argued. "We won't know anything until we do." I took a deep breath. "Kurt- go get Sam and the others. I'm going mouse."
"Real subtle, Santana," Kurt muttered, but he began striding away, getting to the nearest exit door so he could make the transformation to hawk and find Sam.
I looked at Blaine. "Keep watch. Don't get recognized."
Blaine's eyes were wide as he nodded, and I closed my eyes and focused on becoming Santana the Mouse.
"Well, I'm already pretty worldwide," Justin was saying once I managed to wriggle under the door- which wasn't easy, there was like no space and I had to do my best pancake impersonation to get through- and scamper to a dark corner to listen to what was going on. I relayed the dialogue back to Blaine, just so he would know what was happening. "There's not much you can offer me."
Rachel smirked arrogantly. "While I am not doubting your obvious global influence over not only youthful teenage girls but people of all ages I must respectfully point out that you don't fully grasp the extent of my organization's reach and power." I rolled my eyes. Even infested, Rachel was still Rachel. And she went on, no pauses or breath. "I will secretly admit to you that there is literally nothing on this complete planet that will bar you from the goals you want including utter immunity to age restraints." My little mouse heart froze.
This dirty bitch, playing to Justin's weaknesses! What a conniving-
"Woah," Justin said, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible. What's the catch, though?"
You become enslaved by an alien race bent on destroying our planet and our way of life. No biggie.
"You just have to give up a little bit of your freedom," Rachel said, making it sound like giving up eating pickled pig's feet- you see what I did there?
Because, like. No one eats pickled pig's feet.
Well- no one that's not fucking disgusting.
Well, okay, Brittany probably would. Ugh, God, I miss her-
"But trust me when I say to you it will be worth it."
Oh, right. This bitch is still talking.
It was quiet for a moment while Justin considered Rachel's offer. Then, he said, "Okay, then. I'm in."
Dafuq?! Oh, shit, I did not expect him to give in so easily. Fuck, what if Rachel wanted to infest him now?! I was definitely not prepared to take on the number of Hork-Bajir that were going to bust through that door if she was-
"Excellent. We'll take care of the final initiation tomorrow after the concert."
I breathed. Okay. That gave us time to stop this hot fucking mess. Although, agreeing to be infested, even unknowingly, for power was the lowest level of sleaze. I felt sick. Is that how Rachel had convinced Finn to volunteer?
I shook my head.
Justin shifted in his chair. "Initiation? You mean like hazing? Cuz I'm not really in to that-"
Rachel laughed. The sound hurt my sensitive mousy ears. "Oh, no, no, nothing like that. It's much more enlightening." Enlightening. Right. "Speaking of enlightening, I have a fun fact," Rachel continued, although I knew her fact would be anything but fun. "Did you know that Snoop Dogg earned his new Rebirth name because of my organization?"
Excuse me, but. What?
Justin sounded as incredulous as I was. "He did?"
"Yes, he went on his spiritual journal at an outreach run by my organization and discovered a new level of enlightenment. He was so touched and overwhelmed that when he returned he re-named himself Snoop Lion because he felt like a new person."
Get. The fuck. Out. Was Rachel full of shit?!
"Of course, he had to give up some minor freedoms, too, but obviously, they weren't too restricting. You should ask him about it," Rachel suggested, nodding sagely.
Justin looked fucking impressed. I was still trying to figure out which orifice Rachel pulled that bullshit from, because there was just no way. "That's pretty wicked. Maybe I'll change my name or something like that."
Rachel chuckled. She kind of sounded like a chicken clucking. "Well, let's focus on your concert tomorrow first. Then we'll get you initiated. But anything is possible, Justin." Justin nodded, looking thoroughly pleased, and Rachel stood up to shake his hand. "Welcome to New Directions."
"Totally."
Okay, I'd seen enough. I scampered out of my corner towards my exit. They continued to make parting chit-chat while I subtly squeezed back under the door.
[Ugh, I can't believe that creep,] I fumed once I was standing near Blaine and he gave me a nod that it was safe to transform. I focused on my human self, and started the change.
"I know!" Blaine exclaimed in a hushed tone. "Here we are trying to save that kid, and all he cares about is himself!"
"That's the human race for ya," I said nonchalantly as I finished my transformation. It wasn't the first time I had dealt with voluntary Controllers, but it was definitely the first time I'd witnessed the Yeerks' appeal to humans to become infested voluntarily. Yeah, it was revolting- but humans generally sucked, I knew that already.
Blaine, however, did not calm down.
"Well, it's sickening! We should just let him get infested!"
I looked at him. His face was turning red, and he was sweating, and I was wondering what the fuck was going on with him. "'Brows: take a deep breath and calm yourself."
Blaine clenched his fists by his sides. "I can't be calm when someone like him is snaking around, making slimy deals! It really bothers me."
I blinked. "Uh- it's not that serious." I paused. "Okay, well it is, but don't worry, we'll stop it." I shrugged. "Sometimes people just suck, you know? And- woah, what the fuck? What are you doing?"
Orange fur was spreading over Blaine's bare arms. A tail had sprouted from his rear and his teeth were elongated into sharp, deadly fangs. What the fuck was going on?
"I don't know! I'm transforming!" He said. At least, that's what I think he said. His fangs made it come out all warbled.
I looked over my shoulder. Anyone could come around the corner; Rachel and Justin could come out of the room any second, and Blaine was growing larger, bulking up into the form of the tiger. He was going to fucking blow our cover, and we really could not afford to fuck this mission up! "Well, stop," I hissed.
"I'm trying! I'm not-"
But I guess he lost control of his speech capabilities. He was getting closer to finishing his transformation, and it suddenly occurred to me that it was Blaine's first time in tiger form. And that I was standing next to a full-grown tiger that Blaine may or may not have control of.
Fuck.
I took a few paces back- not that that would've helped, if Blaine wanted to he could've closed the gap and shredded me before I realized what was happening. Such a lovely thought.
And because the universe hates me, the door chose that moment to open, and Rachel Man-Hands stepped from the room, followed by Justin Bieber.
"What the-! Why is there a tiger?!" Bieber asked shakily, his voice raised in fear. Yes, it could go higher.
"Call security!" Rachel yelled. That was the last thing we needed, and let's face it- security was going to do jack about a fucking tiger.
I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and stepped closer, so that they both noticed me. "No need," I said in a sultry, Indian accent. I took another step forward, placing my hand on Blaine's huge shoulder. He turned to look at me wildly. Blaine, I really hope you're in there. I glared at him. "Is my tiger," I told Rachel, stroking Blaine's shoulder in fake affection. Blegh.
"Well, you shouldn't just let it walk around without some sort of leash." I barely withheld my laugh, because seriously? A leash would stop a tiger? Even if it was strong enough, my tiny body as the anchor was so not happening. Bitch, please.
"Eh, is sorry," I said with a helpless shrug. Justin tapped Rachel on the shoulder and gave her a tiny wave in parting, then disappeared down the hall and around the corner, leaving me with Rachel and Tiger Blaine. Oh, life, why you do me this way?
Rachel looked at me skeptically. "What's your name?" She demanded, and it took everything in me not to get in her face and go all Lima Heights because who did this entitled bitch think she was?
Also, I didn't have a fucking clue how to answer her goddamn question. Fuck.
"My name?" I repeated, slightly panicked. "Is- Jasmine."
Fuck.
Rachel raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Jasmine."
I nodded, a little more confident. I had already committed, so I had to go with it. "Yes. And this," I gestured to Blaine, who I was a thousand percent sure I was going to brutally murder later for putting me in this awful situation, "is Raja."
"Jasmine. And Raja." Rachel sounded as incredulous and unbelieving as I would have if someone had told me what I had just told her. What fucking even was I thinking?
But, honestly, bullshitting was one of my many talents, so I nodded again, firmer. Confident. "Yes."
"And what are you doing here?"
Bitch, what's with the twenty questions? Don't you have an upper lip to go shave or something? "We," I motioned to Blaine and Myself: Arabian Princess, "were in magic show of last night." Lies, lies, lies.
Rachel looked like she definitely didn't believe me, which proved she wasn't as dumb as the outfits she chose to squeeze herself into, and she stared hard into my eyes, making me internally panic that she might recognize me. "Do I know you?" She asked cautiously, searching my face. "You seem…. familiar."
I half-hoped Blaine would go into notallssith and claw the living shit out of her, but no such luck. I decided if I wanted to get out of this situation, I had to play by Rachel's rules. Extravagant drama.
"How can you know me, when you not know… yourself?" I said in a slow, mysterious voice, giving a wide flourish of my hand.
Rachel looked surprised. I guess. I tried not to make eye contact, just in case she turned me to stone. "What do you mean?" Her voice was full of curiosity and I kind of wanted to roll my eyes.
"You are like a-" I searched, "diamond. A diamond- in the rough." I mentally smacked myself. Oh, way to fucking go. But Rachel's eyes sparkled and she seemed to eat the shit I just spewed up, nodding her agreement excitedly.
"A diamond? That's new. I'm usually likened to a shooting gold star," (what, did she do heroin now, too?) "but I suppose in whatever country you hail from a diamond is the equivalent."
Excuse me?!
I ignored her blatantly offensive remark and nodded wisely, keeping up my mysterious act and trying to seem like I was some type of seer. "Yes, both shine bright," I reached. Beside me, Blaine snorted. I guess that was his way of laughing as a tiger. Okay, I needed to stop. Seriously. I wasn't going to be able to hold character for much longer if I kept saying shit like-
"I am, aren't I?" Rachel said, misty-eyed. "Thank you. It means so much for a stranger to recognize my greatness. You probably already know this but I am quite the young ingénue, and having someone as obviously skilled and wizened as you see my talent for what it is-"
No, don't smack her-
"I must go," I interrupted, holding up my hand to silence her, although I really reconsidered my don't smack her mantra because I felt my hand would be put to better use. "Nice greeting you." I turned away, and thankfully Blaine came along with me, and just for dramatic effect, when I got a few paces away I turned and said, "Shine bright like a diamond."
Rachel wiped away a tear.
Blaine and I hurried away quickly. We had to meet up with Sam and the others and come up with a way to stop Justin from getting infested after the concert tomorrow night. We had to figure out what we were going to do about Rachel- if anything.
And I had to find out why Blaine had transformed into a tiger when he clearly hadn't wanted to.
Whew! What could be wrong with Blaine? Any guesses? LOL well besides all you Animorphs fans out there, of course! :P hahaha
Snoop Lion does not belong to me, although I mentioned him because of the many puns involved. If you haven't seen the fake Animorphs book-cover where he's turning into a lion, then you CLEARLY HAVE NOT LIVED. LOLOLOL.
Know what else doesn't belong to me? Aladdin. :B
Also, I'm sorry if some of you out there are Bieber fans. I chose Bieber because- uh- Glee did.
Okay, so, review if you feel like telling me your thoughts. But if you don't have any, then I guess there's nothing to tell. You guys are awesome!
See you soon (hopefully!) :D