A/N: It's been a while, huh? Had a little technical difficulties and couldn't get my muse right not to mention college is a bitch, but I'm back and I come with chapters! Hopefully it won't take another 2 or so months for the next update. I don't really have a lot to say about this chapter except that I hope you all enjoy it and feedback is much appreciated. (:
Chapter 8
...
Downtown LA – 5:59pm
One Year: Three Weeks: One Day: Twenty Hours: Twenty-Four Minutes
Starlet Lounge
"No way!"
"Yes, way! So, I tell her, I say, 'Isabelle, sweetie, leather is so not in right now.' And you know what she says? She goes, 'Kurt, you're right. Cancel the leather, get me some denim.'" Kurt nodded smugly, "True story, true story."
"I can't believe you're actually working with Isabelle Wright, she's like a God in the fashion industry. She's the person to work with. I am extremely jealous." Mercedes said, sipping on her beer.
"It's really amazing, but you know when I'm not working with her I'm mentoring Johnny. He's one of those hopeful students at NYADA that Carmen Tibideaux sees some form of me in and wants me to help him along the way. She's offered me a position there at least ten times now but I can't do that. I'm not that great of a teacher." Kurt shrugged, "Oh, I forgot to tell you." He turns his attention to Quinn, "Adam wants to set up an appointment with you in the near future. He's moving here."
"Wait, he's moving here? Are you moving too?"
"Oh no, I couldn't. I still have so much work to do in New York but when my work is finished I will. We're going to try our luck at long distance love; he's moving here because his job wants him to, but anyway he'll call you about setting up an appointment."
"I can't imagine what he'd want to set up an appointment with Q for." Santana chimed in, getting a stern look from Quinn which she ignored, "All I'm saying is that therapy is a bunch of crap."
"I have you know that I have helped many people with their problems in the past."
"And it only took what? Half of their bank accounts to do it?"
"Are you saying I'm ripping people off?"
"All I'm saying is that therapy is a bunch of crap."
Quinn rolled her eyes – not wanting to mention that Santana had therapy in the past - and took a long gulp of her gin and tonic which Sam later whispered for her to slow down on. The six friends were seated at the Starlet Lounge in a wide booth in the back of the bar sipping on beers and eating day old peanuts while Kurt – who had just arrived in town a few hours earlier – talked about his adventures in New York. Rachel winced in her seat at the bar as she watched them talk and felt a pinch of jealousy and anxiousness well up inside of her.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Brittany whispered to her friend who turned to her and rolled her eyes.
"That should be me."
"Which one? Mercedes or maybe Quinn or…"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about." She paused, turning her attention back to the table, "Do you not see what kind of life I could have if I got into NYADA? Broadway, fashion…"
"Fashion?" Brittany arched an eyebrow which Rachel turned to scowl at her for before turning her attention back to the table.
"Fine, maybe not fashion, but Broadway; why couldn't I have that life?" She turned back to her friend, "I deserved it. I deserve it."
"Yes, you do, but hey no one is stopping you from trying to get that dream. You know that right? The only person who is stopping you from getting that dream, is, well, you." Rachel opened her mouth to speak but stopped realizing her friend was right.
"Hey ladies." They both turned their attention to Quinn who had appeared beside them with a smile on her lips. Brittany could obviously tell that she was tipsy and it amused her for some odd reason to see the petite blonde in a bit of a haze.
"Hey yourself." Brittany replied.
"Can we get another round at our table? My treat this time."
"No problem." Brittany went to work looking for the drinks when Rachel found herself eying Quinn before landing on her lips and eying her lipstick. Her eyes narrowed and she sucked her teeth without notice.
"I like your lipstick." She said offhandedly.
Quinn tried to look at her lips and realized it was difficult before giggling drunkenly, "Oh, thanks. My husband loves it. I call it my bait. I used to wear it all the time when I wanted to get a guy or something." She shrugged, "I actually lost my tube." She frowned slightly, "But Sam, my husband, bought me another one. He's amazing. My husband." She rambled.
"What shade is that? I don't believe I've seen that on a lot of people."
"Oh, um…" She squinted her eyes trying to remember, "118 Bois de Rose." She nodded finally getting the color, "I love it. I wore it a lot in high school. Do you want a tube? I can get you one maybe."
"No, that's alright." Rachel stated, her eyes moving from Quinn's lips to her eyes and a weak smile forming on her own lips, "I'll stick to my shade. Thanks."
"Here you go. Round for you and your table." Brittany said not paying much attention to the two handing the drinks to Quinn.
"Thanks, hey, Santana wants you two to come over to the table when you get a chance. I think Sam has something for you Brittany." She turned and walked away and Rachel eyed her as she left a sneer on her face.
"What's your issue?" Brittany questioned, nudging her friend.
"Did you see her lipstick?" Brittany shook her head, "It was the same color as the tube I found in Puck's pocket!"
"Lots of women wear lipstick, you realize this right?"
"Did you also notice how she had to continue to talk about Sam? She had to repeat that he was her husband as if she had forgotten or something."
"You're crazy. You're making yourself crazy. I told you to dump Puck a while ago anyway."
"I'm not crazy, I'm telling you something is up and I don't trust Quinn at all."
Brittany shook her head and smiled, "Come on, Nancy Drew, let's go see what these kids want. Hey Finn! Can you man the bar?"
A crash was heard in the back of the bar and Brittany just rolled her eyes as Finn Hudson, a tall slightly awkward male, came out from the stock room. "Um, yeah, yeah Brittany I can do that."
"Don't break anything, okay? Just hand people drinks. Don't get cute or fancy, just hand them drinks. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it."
Brittany exited from behind the bar and Rachel followed her, "Who is that again?"
"Finn Hudson, he's our newest bartender. He sucks. Like literally. At everything. I don't know why Mr. Jones insisted on hiring more help but whatever. I had to train him and it was like training a duck. Actually no, ducks are easier to train. It was like training a train!"
"You can't train… never mind."
Brittany walked up towards the table with a small smile on her face as she saw Santana first; Santana's attention was directed towards her beer bottle but sooner or later she spied the blonde hair and a smile came onto her lips slowly as she looked up to see Brittany and Rachel. She was right in assuming the girl in the many photos in Brittany's house was Rachel.
"Hey." Brittany said through a smile, her eyes locked on Santana alone as Sam, Quinn, Mercedes, Mike, and Kurt all replied back to her with polite hellos.
"This is Brittany everyone." Quinn introduced the taller blonde as Santana continued to sip on her beer nervously.
"Oh, so you're Brittany." Kurt stated Brittany turned her attention to Kurt with a confused brow, "I've heard about you."
"Is that a good thing?"
"Depends on who's telling it." Mercedes giggled.
"And who is this?" Kurt asked his attention to Rachel now.
"This is my best friend, Rachel. She's a huge fan." Rachel nudged Brittany in the ribs who let out a low "Ow"
"I, um, I followed your career." Rachel chimed in quietly, "You were incredible in Grace Swan." Kurt smiled proudly as Rachel continued on her fangirlness – though adding her on bits of how he could've improved and what she would've done differently. The ivory male didn't find her information useful and dismissed it, but enjoyed her enthusiasm.
"Sam, give Brittany the thing." Santana finally spoke up softly, kicking her blonde haired friend in the shin.
"Jesus, alright, relax." Sam said, pulling out a package from beside him and handed it to Brittany who took it a bit surprised. "Open it." He instructed and Brittany did as she was told and gasped at what she was holding.
"No fuckin' way!" She enthused, "I've waited ages for a new one." Brittany flipped through the pages of the rough copy of Sam's new comic and smiled as the breeze of the pages blew her hair back. Santana snickered quietly, enjoying how dorky she appeared. Though she smacked herself mentally for even thinking of Brittany like that, despite her best interests she still felt wrong for liking the girl.
"I know. San told me that you might be interested in some new material so I made that one up for you. It's still rough around the edges but I hope you like it." Brittany turned her attention back to the beautiful brunette and smiled gratefully in her direction.
"Don't you two have a thing?" Mike asked, all eyes shifting to him, "I meant are you two going out tonight?"
"Oh, y-yeah, right." Santana stammered.
"Where are you two crazy kids off too?" Kurt questioned.
Brittany shrugged, "She won't tell me."
"Surprises, huh? I thought you hated surprises?" Mercedes asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I do, when they're directed towards me. This one isn't."
"What makes you think I like surprises?" Brittany asked arching a challenging eyebrow and placing her hands on her hips.
"You told me so."
Brittany went over in her thought bubble and smiled when she realized she had. It wasn't her fault really; when it came to Santana it seemed the blonde couldn't shut up. She was sure Santana knew her entire life story and come to think of it, she was sure she knew Santana's as well.
"Come on, let me out the booth. I don't wanna be late and you may want to change."
Brittany looked down at her clothes as Santana was let out of the booth by Sam and Quinn.
"What's wrong with my clothes?"
"They're not exactly suitable for where we're going."
"I'd wish you tell me where."
Santana closed her mouth and pretended to lock it, placing the invisible key into her pocket. Brittany rolled her eyes and sighed. Despite how she was acting on the outside, she was enjoying this cat and mouse game of trying to figure out where the brunette was taking her. So far, she had come up with nothing.
"See you guys later." Santana called out to them and she grabbed Brittany's wrist, leading her away.
"Don't come back pregnant!" She heard her friends shout at them and rolled her eyes at their insanity.
Downtown LA – 8:05pm
One Year: Three Weeks: One Day: Twenty-Two Hours: Thirty Minutes
Catscratch Club
Brittany was a little nervous, to say the least, about where exactly Santana was taking her not to mention the brunette's snickers and smirks throughout their car ride were less than appeasing to her. Brittany had changed into something to Santana's liking – and her liking as well – a beautiful slimming white dress and a pair of sensible heels. Santana was in awe of her attire and for the most of five minutes she literally just stared at the blonde. Brittany wanted to bring her back to Earth with a kiss but settled on a snap of the fingers which made the writer snap back into reality and smiled at her as she changed into her own pair of clothing. She had a bag in the car that she brought along with her and when she changed from her tight shirt, skinny jeans, and boots into an elegant blouse and skirt it was Brittany's turn to be in awe. Despite their inner turmoil they both found it incredibly hard not to find the other attractive, though Santana kept trying to remind herself that nothing could happen between them but her best interest was losing hope the longer she stayed in Brittany's company. Brittany had her own struggles she was dealing with but found them almost invisible when it came to Santana; at least she wasn't some random hook-up that was something Brittany knew for sure.
"Will you quit it?" Brittany whined from the passenger seat, her eyes turning to Santana as her giggles continued.
"Quit what?"
"Your giggling. I feel like I'm going to walk into a trap or something." Santana smirked and shook her head which caused the bartender to roll her eyes teasingly, "Oh stop that." She said, trying to sound firm but failing.
"I'll try my best." Quick pause, "You know, you do look beautiful in that dress."
Brittany looked down at her attire and smiled, "Thanks, so do you, but you always look beautiful."
"How do you manage to do that?" Santana asked without thinking.
"Do what?" Brittany furrowed her brows in confusion.
"Make me feel so…" Santana let her voice trail off because there were so many words she wanted to use. Beautiful. Special. Cared for. But she settled for a simple, not so leading word, "Vain. You're boosting my ego."
Brittany eyed Santana, knowing, for some reason she wasn't aware of, that that wasn't the word Santana truly wanted to use, but she dismissed the thought and shrugged, "Years of practice I guess. Though hey you're boosting my ego too."
"It's a gift." The writer smirked playfully as they both fell silent and let the sounds of the car tires hitting the pavement soothe them as they neared downtown. Brittany let her gaze travel towards the window and she watched the lights reflect on the window and she smiled at her own amusement. Santana saw Brittany's smile out of the corner of her eye and smiled in return; she had no idea what made the bartender so giddy, but it seemed now that whenever she caught sight of Brittany's pearly whites she couldn't help but smile back whether the smile was directed towards her or not.
After a few minutes of driving Santana finally pulled into a small parking lot and parked near the building and sighed happily to herself when she cut off the engine and Brittany began to look through the front window to see where they had come to – her attention had still been outside the window when they arrived and she was now more confused than ever.
"Come on." Santana encouraged, getting out of the car first. Brittany followed her lead, biting her lip nervously as she caught up in step with Santana.
"I have no idea where we are." Brittany confessed.
"Really? You've never been here? Hm, even better."
They entered the small building and the vibe was already dazzling the blonde as her eyes floated around the room. From the bar – that she took note that the bartender was trying too hard – to the couples on the dance floor and finally the singer who filled the room with a jazzy-RnB tone.
"Did I just step into the 1970s?" Brittany questioned with a scrunched up nose which made Santana shake her head with a giggle and loop their arms together as she led them towards a small high table in the back of the building. "You like jazz?"
"Sort of. I like almost all music really." Santana said with a smile, her eyes resting on the singer for a moment. Brittany followed her gaze and smirked.
"You should totally get up there."
Santana turned to her with surprise, "What? No. I don't sing anymore."
"What? Why not? You told me all those stories about how you helped win your glee club to Sections or something like that."
"Sectionals, yeah, but so what? That was so long ago."
"You're just making excuses." Brittany paused, leaning back in her chair looking at the singer, "I bet you sound better than her."
"Oh, I know I sound better than her."
"See? All the more reason."
"I didn't come here to sing, I came here to show you a great time. This is a dance club after all."
Brittany leaned forward, placing her hand onto her cheek and shook her head, "Hm, I don't know. I don't dance anymore."
"Brittany."
Brittany sighed teasingly, "Santana."
"I don't sing anymore." She said growing frustrated though it was proving difficult as Brittany continued to stare at her with those beautiful oceanic eyes, which only seemed to glow in the club lighting. "I wouldn't even know what to sing." She insisted, folding her arms across her chest in a child-like fashion.
"Sing whatever you want. This is your era after all."
"Are you calling me old?" Brittany simply giggled. Santana sighed. "If I sing, you have to dance."
"Deal, your old highness." Santana rolled her eyes, getting off the chair and biting her lip nervously. She hadn't sung since Valerie was alive and the thought of singing now made her stomach tighten with a queasy anxiety. Brittany hadn't noticed how slow Santana was moving, her attention had been transfixed on the salsa dancers on the side who seemed to be in a world of their own. God she missed dancing. That passion, that energy, that warm feeling throughout her body she always felt – though that could've been the sweat forming throughout her body, but nonetheless. Despite wanting to dance at Mike's studio she hadn't danced since college. Guess tonight is the night for old passions to arise, she thought, as her attention turned to Santana who was now shaking a bit as she whispered into the stage manager's ear that she wanted to sing.
Don't think about her, don't think about her, don't think about her, Santana continued to think over in her mind. The last thing she needed was visions of Valerie in her head as she sang, she would sure to break and she couldn't. Not here. Not now.
"Alright, alright, that was the sweet soul sounds of Aretha Franklin's A Rose is still a Rose sung by our very own Kitty Wilde." The crowd paused their actions to applause, "Alright, now I want you to get off your butts and let me see you shake somethin' for our next performer singing that sweet and sexy sounds of Fontella Bass's Rescue Me." The announcer got off the stage and turned to Santana, "Don't mess up, kid. This ain't no karaoke night. You wanna sing? Bring it." He paused and smiled at her slightly, "Good luck." He whispered at her before she nervously took center stage.
This was her safe place, the one place in the entire world where she always felt the most ready the most able, but right now Santana Lopez was about to crack under the pressure. Small murmurs around her while eyes glued themselves on her face ready for her to speak, or move, or do anything really.
"You can do it." She saw Brittany mouthed and smiled lightly at her as she turned towards the band and bit her bottom lip as the music started up behind her. She weakly cleared her throat, ready to take the microphone but it fell down on the stage causing a loud blaring throughout the club. Brittany looked on nervously as Santana picked it up and mentally slapped herself.
Get your shit together, Lopez. This isn't you. You're confident. What is this?
"You know your books paint a different picture of you. Elizabeth is so confident, so in your face, but you're not. I know people change, but I don't know…"
Maybe Brittany was right. Maybe she did change and it wasn't for the better. She took a deep breath as Brittany stood up, she assumed ready to pick up the microphone in case it fell again, but it wasn't about to fall. No, Santana Lopez was about to be damned if she chickened out.
Rescue me
Oh take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charms
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too
The crowd began to nod to the music and slowly made their way towards the dance floor, as Santana squeezed the microphone feeling the beat of the music sweep through her body. A smile on her lips as she danced around lightly on the stage, twirling around and stopping back into her position as before.
Come on and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
'Coz I need you, by my side
Can't you see that I'm lonely
Rescue me
Brittany made her way towards the dance floor and soon was swept over by the drums and piano keys as well as Santana's voice. She had such an amazing voice. She never heard anyone sing the way she did. So much passion and soul, but with a bit of hurt through her words. It was hard to tell where the reality of the song ended and where the song just for dancing began, but Brittany knew there was no one on this planet like Santana Lopez and she was glad of that. She wasn't sure she could handle that amount of amazing.
Come on and take my heart
Take your love and conquer every part
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too
Brittany danced her way through the crowd towards the stage where Santana stood; she winked in the brunette's direction who smiled through her lyrics at her. Santana surveyed the room, happy that she still had it in her, that she still was able to control a room with her voice and man had she missed that drive.
Come on and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
'Coz I need you by my side
Can't you see that I'm lonely
The dance break took place and Santana clapped her hands together, doing her own dance on the stage before walking out on the dance floor and dancing with Brittany. She couldn't put in words how amazing Brittany's dancing was, she wasn't even sure if she would be able to keep up. The woman was incredible; it was like her feet had a mind of its own. They giggled together, their eyes dancing in the same way as their legs before Santana caught something out the side of her eye. A blur maybe, a flash of light, she wasn't sure, but when she turned to find the source her heart tighten and she nearly fell over on top of Brittany.
Valerie.
She was sure of it. She knew that body anywhere. She stood with her back to Santana before turning around to reveal her face and Santana's stomach only tightened worse. That smile, that shy but oh so intimidating smile, and those hypnotic hazel eyes. Her mind raced with a thousand and one thoughts, trying to piece together how in the hell that was possible. She had to be losing it, she had to be seeing something that wasn't there, but she seemed so real. She looked so real and Santana was so willing to leave her date and find out but the dance break ended and she felt the blonde pull on her arm to get her attention to conclude the song. She turned to Brittany and smirked as she sang her way back to the stage.
Rescue me
Oh take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charms
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too
Come on and rescue me
Come on baby, take me baby, hold me baby, love me baby
Can't you see that I need you baby
Can't you see that I'm lonely
Rescue me
Once she reached the stage and looked out to find that face again, that beautiful chocolate face, she had disappeared. Somewhere in between dancers or seats, she had vanished and Santana was left feeling queasy and guilty – more so than normal.
Come on and take my hand
Come on baby and be my man
'cause I love you 'cause I want you
Can't you see that I'm lonely?
take me baby
love me baby
need me baby
Can't you see that I'm lonely?
rescue me, rescue me...
She didn't finish the song as strongly as she would've liked, but how could she? Her mind was swimming with a thousand and one thoughts and she had to get off that stage and maybe just maybe away from Brittany. Brittany. The blonde was whistling at her from the dance floor not noticing much of what the singer was going through and maybe that was for the best. This was for the best. The two of them couldn't be anything but friends. No matter how much Santana was beginning to fall for her, she knew it was wrong. The whole thing was wrong. All wrong.
West Side LA – 10:27pm
One Year: Three Weeks: Two Days: Fifty-Two Minutes
Outside Brittany's Apartment
"Hey, are you okay? You haven't really said much since the club." Brittany questioned, the silence in the car proving too powerful for her. She turned to Santana whose hand was on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning a flash shade of white.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't look it." Brittany gently grabbed Santana's hand and she sighed into the contact, releasing her grip from the wheel and leaning back into the seat. "What's wrong? You can talk to me."
"I'm sorry. I ruined tonight and I…"
"Ruined it? Are you kidding?" Santana turned to Brittany with confusion, "I got to not only hear your amazing voice but I got to dance again. I haven't danced in so long, San. Since college."
"You called me San." Santana blushed at the familiar nickname.
"Oh, do you not like it? Your name is kind of long. Santana." Brittany dragged out the Latina's name which made her giggle in response. "Oh hey a giggle. I got you to giggle. I think I deserve a medal."
"No medals. Sorry."
"Damn, you're supposed to keep medals on standby just for these special moments."
Santana shook her head, "My bad."
"I guess it's okay. I can't stay mad at you for too long anyway."
"Yeah? I'll have to remember that."
"Don't get too cocky about that." Brittany teased, "Are you sure you're okay though?"
Santana sighed, "I will be, yeah."
Brittany leaned in absentmindedly and kissed Santana's forehead. The touch sent a chill down the brunette's spine as she wasn't used to such contact and backed up a bit.
"I… Sorry. I know you don't like that. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."
"No, I…" Santana leaned forward, "Don't apologize. I… I like it." She shrugged.
"Really? Good. Forehead kisses are my specialty." Brittany leaned in and whispered, her breath teasing Santana's ear, "But I have a lot more." Brittany pulled back and eyed Santana, daring her to test her. Santana gulped, biting her bottom lip. This was so wrong. Everything about this situation was so wrong. Her stomach tighten harshly, causing a cramping pain in her side but as Brittany looked into her deep brown eyes, looking for a warning – a sign – that Santana didn't want to kiss her, Santana felt her mind swim with a thousand and one things before long Brittany's lips were pressed against hers.
Her lips were warm and soft, a sweet taste of strawberries and vodka danced around on Brittany's lips and Santana melted into the contact. Her mind fluttered with miscommunicated images of Valerie and Brittany and every memory she had with both women and as Brittany deepened the kiss the images became clearer and her stomach tightened intensely as she felt moisture enter into her mouth realizing it was Brittany's tongue. Without realization she had whimpered into the kiss, her hand pressing on Brittany's back begging for contact. Her mind and body were fighting against her.
Her body begged to be touched, to be held, to be kept warm while her mind fought with the images of Valerie. Wanting, no needing, to keep her image alive. God, why was this so hard? Why was this so wrong but felt so good? So damn good.
Brittany released their lips – needing air, and Santana needing her mind to shut the hell up. Brittany looked from Santana's eyes to her lips, their faces still inches apart, "Tell me you want me to stop." She whispered, "I need you to tell me to stop."
"Why?" Santana questioned, her heart racing as her stomach felt like it had slid down to her feet.
"Because if you don't, I'm going to take you – right here, right now – I'm going to take you and have my way with you in this car. I won't stop kissing, touching, and licking parts of you. I will do things to you that'll make Fifty Shades look like a children's book, but I know that you're not ready for that. I know that as amazing as you feel right now you're not ready. So, tell me. Tell me you want me to stop."
Santana licked her lips, swallowing her thoughts, trying to refrain herself. She hated herself for these inner battles and these inner feelings. She needed so badly for release, for Brittany's hands on her body, her tongue inside of her, her fingers inside of her, her lips pressed against her own. She needed that warmth that climax, that orgasm, that night. She needed, more than anything, to feel good for once in over a year. But her mind continued to flash images and questions. Would she yell at Brittany to get out the way she did before? Would she vomit at the sight of Brittany being in Valerie's spot? Would she yell out the wrong name? Would she feel truly happy afterwards or ashamed?
Santana sighed, "Stop."
Brittany pulled back and sat back into the passenger seat, "I better go then." She opened the car door, but was stopped when Santana grabbed her wrist.
"I… I want you to know that I wanted it. I just…"
Brittany smiled sweetly, "You don't have to explain anything to me. One day you'll be ready and then boom. It'll happen."
"You say that like you'll wait for me or something."
"I just might." Brittany shrugged, "I think you're worth it."
"I'm not."
Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana firmly on the lips, that warming sensation sliding down towards her core and she felt her knees weaken under her.
"You're worth more than you know, Santana Lopez." Brittany smiled sweetly, "Now, if you excuse me. I need to go upstairs and find some way to release myself because I swear if I don't leave now, I just might have my way with you."
"I just might let you." Santana whispered under her breath as Brittany got out of the car. She walked towards Santana's side and knocked on the window; Santana rolled it down with an arched eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I just wanted to say goodnight." Brittany said, in that mimicking tone Santana had grown used to.
"Goodnight, Britt."
"Goodnight, San."
Santana turned on the engine and drove home, getting to her apartment she went into her bottom drawer and took out an old friend she hadn't seen in a long time. She turned it on, the vibrations louder than she remembered, and released herself to the faint, miscommunicated images of Brittany – silently wishing for her own salvation from the nightmare she was living.