Chapter 3

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West Side LA – 11:35pm

One Year: One Week: Two Days: Two Hours

Santana's Apartment

A camera flashed in Santana's face as she posed to take a photo with another teenaged fan. She was impressed. The turnout for her first big book signing was amazing; there were so many people there to greet her, all ranging from early teen to mid-fifties. It was astounding and overwhelming but at the same time it warmed her heart. She didn't expect much to come out of her hundred some odd page book she randomly called Candle, for lack of a better stand out name, but within the first week she had sold almost half of the entire stock. Santana was amused when her agent called her and told her about the percentage of money she would receive as well as the press so many people wanted her to do – were they serious? Over a book? This sad little book she wrote when she was a teenager only because she hated her life? This diary turned book? This book? It was hilarious to her.

"Is it true?" A teenaged creamed skinned female asked her as she handed her the book to sign.

Santana wrote her autograph then looked up at the girl, "Is what true?"

"That this book is based off your life story."

Santana grinned handing the book back to the girl and nodded. The girl pressed the freshly written book to her chest and squealed as if her life had new meaning.

"She seemed impressed." The next person in line said, handing her book to Santana. Santana took the book without looking at the fan and smirked.

"To say the least." She wrote down her autograph, her attention on her penmanship and not the female before her.

"I'm a lefty too." The fan announced, "I didn't know you were though. Your wiki doesn't really say much about you."

"Not much to tell." Santana replied without missing a beat, finishing up her autograph and handing her book to the fan. She froze. The female before her was…well, to put it simply, she was gorgeous. She had redish-brown hair cut into a curled bob, her smile was elegant but held a calming grace to it, and she was obviously taller than Santana and held a captivating fragrance that the writer couldn't place. Her skin was flawless, painted with deep shades of brown; her body was petite and slim but her clothes hugged the right parts of her letting her luscious curves sculpt her body. Santana was in awe.

"Is there a problem?" The fan asked.

Santana shook her head, trying to find her voice, "N-no. What's your name?"

The female smirked, "Valerie. Valerie Johnson."

"It's really great to meet you, Valerie."

Though hidden behind her skin tone, Santana swore she saw the hint of a blush as Valerie smiled and walked away.

"Valerie Johnson…"

Santana awoke from her bed with a start, sweat dripping down her forehead as she tilted her head back onto the headboard. Fuck, not now, please not now. It had been months since her last dream of Valerie and now they had started back up again. The memories taunting her. Repeating over and over in her head and she wished she could silence them all and throw them away – but on the other hand she wasn't sure she could face getting rid of the memory of her. She got up from her bed and walked down the hallway towards her kitchen and opened the fridge for a beer only to be met with emptiness.

"You've got to be kidding me." She groaned, slamming the fridge door shut and smacking her head against the door. "The one time. The one damn time I need it." She sighed, balling her hand into a fist and punching the fridge. She was angry, but not just because she was out of beer. She checked the clock on the wall and groaned lowly; she really didn't want to travel to find something to settle her mind, but what choice did she have? There was no way she was going back to sleep without some alcohol in her system.

She sighed, thinking of what stores were closest to her, but realized most of them were closed. Guess Starlet Lounge it is. Another groan left her lips before she slowly made her way back to her bedroom and changed from her PJ top and bottoms into something more suitable to arrive at a bar in – a pair of jeans and a nice top would do, it was nearly midnight after all, who truly gave a shit? Strapping on her sneakers, she grabbed her keys and wallet and trailed out of her apartment in less than a happy mood about it.

Downtown LA – 12:02am

One Year: One Week: Two Days: Two Hours: Twenty-Seven Minutes

Starlet Lounge

"Fred. Hey Fred!" Brittany nudged the bald headed middle aged man with a small stick she kept behind the bar. He groaned and flipped her off. "Though I'm sure you want to, not in this lifetime or the next. Get up, come on, you're hogging the bar here." She poked him again and he groaned once more. "I'm callin' your drunken ass a cab." She announced, going towards the phone that hung on the back wall and making that all too familiar phone call to the cab company.

The door swung open and Santana was met with dim lights and drunken bodies lazily resting around the bar and tables. This is what this bar looks like on a regular? She rolled her eyes at the sight, hardly impressed with the atmosphere, giving herself a mental pat on the back that she didn't go to bars often to get her drunken fixes. Brittany was too busy with the phone to notice Santana and Santana was secretly glad the blonde hadn't looked her way. After their flirtatious encounter Santana wanted to avoid her at all cost, but because this bar was the closest to fulfill her alcoholic craving it seemed that her want would never be fulfilled. It wasn't as if the brunette was scared of a small flirtation, but it was the consequence of it all. It left a queasy feeling in her stomach, more so than usual. When she flirted to get out of a parking ticket or just so one of her annoying publishers would leave her alone she didn't feel any form of queasy feeling – aside from the usual one of annoyance and disgust for their own presence – so she questioned why she felt so weak after the flirtation with the bartender. It was odd. Even for her.

She thought back to the last time she was at the Starlet Lounge and was grateful that no one had followed her into the bathroom and she didn't show any signs of tears or vomit stained attire when she left the bathroom and left the bar altogether. Santana found herself shifting thoughts between Valerie and guilt to Brittany and what would've happened if she had followed her in. The idea of a beautiful woman finding her in that state was less than attractive.

Shit.

There she was again thinking Brittany was beautiful. That pinch of guilt flopped into her stomach and she found herself about to throw up again, but before she could escape to the bathroom Brittany had placed the phone down and was making her way over. "Don't even think about going behind the bar, Fred. I'm watching you. We have cameras everywhere." Brittany remarked pointing aimlessly around the bar.

"Do you really?" Santana questioned, feeling silly for doing so.

Brittany smirked, "Of course not, but he doesn't need to know that." She took in Santana's appearance, noting that even at midnight she was still as beautiful as the first time she laid eyes on her. "I'm glad you decided to come by and see me."

"Someone is full of themselves. What makes you think I came here to see you?"

Brittany shrugged, "I'd like to think you didn't just come here for the beer."

Santana sighed, a blushing smile on her lips.

"There goes that smile again." Brittany pointed out, "What are you having, beautiful?"

"Just a beer. Nothing fancy."

"Simple, I like simple." Santana rolled her eyes as Brittany walked to get her the drink. Santana took in the people around her noticing most of them were talking in drunken conversation while a light beat played in the background. She didn't know the song – not like she was into today's music anyway – but it sounded nice. Most of the people at the bar were sleeping off their drinks, most of them older men and balding. She shook her head at the sight.

"One beer, as requested." Brittany smiled, handing the bottle to her.

"Thanks." She popped open the top and began to gulp and took a long sigh afterwards, "I needed that."

Brittany looked at her with wide eyes, "Looks like it."

"Keep 'em comin' too."

"Are you driving tonight?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. Hot or not, I'm not letting you drive home drunk."

"Well, aren't you helpful?" Santana replied sarcastically.

"I look after my customers."

"After you get them drunk of course."

"You know, I actually care about my customers. The people that enter this bar are kind of like my family. We talk, we laugh, and we even share a beer or two. They're good people." She paused, "Or are we too common for the Queen?"

Santana scoffed, "What's that supposed to mean exactly?"

Brittany shrugged, "Whatever you want it to mean, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Princess, princess, princess." Brittany teased.

"Come on, princess, move your ass."

"I really hate it when you call me that." Santana breathed out as she caught up to Valerie at the top of a hiking trail that Valerie just had to take every Saturday. Santana should be used to this outdoor routine they've been doing it for two years now.

"Come on, work those muscles, princess. Move that ass. Let's go! Up, up, up!"

"God, I hate you."

"I love you too." Valerie smirked as she jogged behind Santana lightly pushing her up the hill, "Let's go, princess, up, up, up." She chanted as they made it to the top a little while later. "Don't you feel refreshed?" She quirked, still full of energy jogging around Santana who fell onto the ground.

"Remind me to hit you when we get back down."

"Awe, but you would never hit me." Valerie teased, pausing her jogging to plant a kiss on a whiney Santana's lips.

Santana pouted at the loss contact and sighed to herself. "I don't know how in the hell you manage to get me up here every Saturday." Santana whined.

Valerie smirked at her, taking a seat on the ground beside her, running her fingers through Santana's beautiful hair. She planted a sweaty kiss on her girlfriend's forehead, "Because you love me and when you're in love you do crazy things to make them happy."

"Like you going to meet Jenna Marbles with me even though you don't like her?" Santana grinned.

"Yes, baby, exactly like that. I'll do anything to make you happy."

"I know. I'll do anything to make you happy too. I love you."

"I love you back. Come on." Valerie stood up and extended her hand to Santana, "There's another hill to climb."

Santana merely groaned.

"Hello? You there?" Santana saw snapping movements in her face and she blinked frantically trying to remember where she was.

"Oh, yeah, I… yeah."

"Are you okay? I don't think you should be drinking right now."

"I'm fine; just… just don't call me princess again."

"I won't."

"Are you going to tell me your name now?" Santana questioned.

Brittany leaned on the counter, "Well, some people call me Hot Pants, others call me Sexy Bartender, but you can call me Anytime, Anyplace." Brittany giggled, leaning back and sticking out her hand, "Brittany Pierce."

"San…"

"Tana Lopez, yeah, I know. I checked your tag the other day." Brittany stated, shaking Santana's hand.

"Nice memory." Brittany shrugged.

"I remember what I want to." She turned around to Fred who had woken up and was now trying to get another beer, "Ugh, excuse me." She walked to Fred swatting his hand away with her stick and thanking unicorns – Santana didn't get it – when the cab driver entered. Once Fred and a few others were safely out of the bar and into an awaiting cab Brittany made her way back towards Santana and sighed happily.

"Now, where were we?"

West Side LA – 7:35am

One Year: One Week: Two Days: Ten Hours

Santana's Apartment

The sunlight from the unclosed bedroom curtains shone in Santana's face as a small groan escaped her lips and she turned over. Her head was pounding and she felt her body needed more rest than she had given it, but she wasn't really one to lounge in bed so she opened her eyes sitting up in her bed and yawning to herself. She stretched her arms, blinking rapidly to wake herself up. She turned to her left side and gasped at the sight of a body next to her and screamed, falling out of the bed in the process.

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" The body questioned, waking up, noticing the bright light hitting her face and squinting, "Damn. That sun is bright as hell."

"What? Why are you there? Why? Why are you..?" Santana stammered.

Brittany sat up from the bed, running a hand through her hair and giggling, "Oh um, you were pretty drunk this morning and no cabs were running so I drove you here. In your car though. It was kind of late when we got here so I just crashed on your bed after I tucked you in, I… I hope that's okay."

"No! No, it's not okay. You're in her… You're… Get out!"

"Whoa, okay, look I'm sorry." Brittany quickly got out of the bed and began to look for her shoes, "You were just drunk and I was tired and I just…"

"You could've fallen asleep on the couch!" But that belongs to her too. "You could've asked someone to pick you up! You could've called Mercedes! No one told you to stay, you didn't have to stay."

"You were drunk and crying!" Brittany argued.

"That's what I do, I cry when I'm drunk."

"This wasn't a simple sniffle; you were full blown out crying. You threw up on the way here twice and you kept repeating some girl name Valerie over and over the entire night. You were hysterical!" At the mention of Valerie's name Santana froze, "I told you, I care about my customers and I'm not going to let you be alone when you clearly needed someone. I thought you would've gotten sick or something the way you were acting, I thought I was helping."

Brittany sighed to herself, questioning how she always got caught up in crazy hot women as she collected her belongings and left Santana's bedroom. Santana wanted to go after her and explain to her what was happening, but what exactly would she explain? She didn't really owe her an explanation she didn't even know her and she barely remembered the night before. Quite frankly she remembered nothing. She quickly looked around to make sure everything was still in place and that nothing was stolen but there was one thing out of place, Santana knew for certain. The left side of the bed was slept in and unkempt and this sudden change twitched at Santana's insides and she ran to the bathroom to throw up the rest of the alcohol that made it through the night.

A/N: I know the story is sad but it gets better. Promise! Happy, happy, fun times to come. I can't wait to see your reaction for the beginning of the next chapter. Hee Hee. Anyway, review!