A/N: Here it is, the first chapter of the next episode. I had a hard time deciding the direction I wanted to take this episode in, but I'm fairly happy with the results. I hope you guys are too.
Theres a slight chance that the next chapter will be live tomorrow, but it's more than likley going to be Monday at the earliest, but I'll try my best for tomorrow.
*POSSIBLE TRIGGER: eating disorder - the last three paragraphs focus heavily on the Santana eating disorder storyline. Also includes subtle mentions of possible abuse
Let me know if you guys are still enjoying what you're reading, what you'd like to see more or less or, all that sort of stuff...
Glee: Season 1 Episode 6 - Vitamin D
Chapter One
A week has passed, and we are all still riding on the high on our success at the Invitationals. Berry has now officially re-joined the Glee Club, and she took almost no time is bossing everybody around (again). Apparently, it doesn't count as bossing people around if you're doing it to help people much less talented than yourself, those are Berry's words not mine. I'm sorry but I'm a senior member of the Cheerios, we do routines much more complex than what we do in Glee, I think I can manage swaying and singing in the background without the direction of man hands. Anyway, I'm just as talented as she is, I just don't have the unsufferable need to constantly remind people by belting out the soundtrack to 'Funny Girl' or 'Les Misérables' everywhere I go. On the plus side things between me and Brittany have returned back to normal after our conversation during the Invitationals. We haven't kissed or even spoken about it since, but we're back to spending all our time together and I couldn't be happier. Well maybe I could be slightly happier, if I kissed Brittany again, but I'm not sure it's worth the risk. What if I freak out again? I've just got my best friend back and I don't ever want to lose her again, even for a few days.
"Guys it's simple" Berry states, getting increasingly annoyed, trying to teach some choreography to Kurt, Mercedes, Puck, Matt and Tina. "Again" Finn gives them a beat as I watch on with Artie and Mike. There was no way I was taking part in the 'Rachel Berry Dance Masterclass'. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…" The group do it wrong again "No, no, no, no, no, no, no" Berry whines at the group. I look at Mike and laugh as Brittany spins in front of me. Before she can make them do it again Mr. Schuester walks in waiving a brown envelope in this hand.
"Great news guys. Just got the competition bracket for Sectionals, and we are in really good shape" Everybody stops what they are doing to listen to our bracket. "There's only two other teams. We beat them, we make it to Regionals". We all cheer at the good news.
"Uh, who are the other teams?" Berry asks.
"Drumroll please, Finn" Mr. Schuester points to Finn, who obliges. "School for the Deaf in Dayton and someplace call Jane Addams Academy" I look over to Brittany.
"Jane Addams? That's a halfway house for girls just getting out of juvie" Mercedes laughs, telling the group.
"Th-th-this is great" Tina adds.
"People who can't hear what they're singing and criminals who don't care" Artie says happily, Brittany laughing along next to him "This is gonna be a cake walk. Hi fi…" He goes to high five Britt who ignores him and turns to me. This is gonna be so easy, I think to myself, giving Brittany a high five.
/
I interwind my pinkie with Brittany's as we walk out of the choir room and down the hall towards our lockers. "I'm so glad we've got an easy ride through to Regionals" I say to Brittany opening my locker. "Now we can focus on what really matters, winning back-to-back national championships with the Cheerios" I smile "It's all my abuelas been talking about recently" I take a couple of books out of my locker and stuff them into my backpack before turning to face Brittany.
"But you're abuela likes Glee too?" Brittany questioned as we continue down the hall and towards the field. "She was at the invitationals"
"She was" I agree. "…but only because I told her it will help us win nationals with the Cheerios. Sure, Glee is fun, but I'm not going to get a scholarship by singing show tunes" I shrug.
Before Brittany can reply, Lady Hummel runs up from behind us, breaking the grip of our pinkies and walks along with us. "Ladies" he says in his usual high pitch squeak. I glance at him and roll my eyes. Ever since I let him do my makeup during the intermission at the Invitationals last Saturday, he has this insane idea that we are now friends. He puts his arms around our shoulders. "What do you say to an evening of hors d'oeuvres, Cabaret and organic face masks at casa de Hummel?" I gip at the thought and stop in my tracks.
"No" I start "…and no" I say taking his arm off from around my shoulder by pinching his cuff with the tips of my fingers. "Listen here lady lips" I say turning to face him, crossing my arms "yes I let you do my makeup, I was distracted, and it was a serious lack of judgement on my part, so I apologize. But we are not friends, okay? So, no I don't want to eat your fancy finger foods, or re-enact the scenes from 'The Wizard of Oz'…"
"You'd make such a good, wicked witch San" Brittany teases, cutting me off mid-rant. I pull my face at her and let out a sarcastic laugh. I see the smile fade from Kurt face and his bottom lip start to quiver. I sigh.
"Look, you're the least annoying of all the wierdos in Glee, but this is high school, and I am not taking a slushy facial for you…" I shrug and start to walk away from him. "C'mon Britt, we don't want to be late" Out of the corner of my eye I see Brittany turn to Kurt and mouth 'sorry' to him.
/
Once on the field we throw our backpacks on the ground and join the rest of the Cheerios for the last session of the week. I look up to the bleachers and see Coach Sylvester stood there, her stopwatch around her neck and her megaphone on the floor next to her. "From the top ladies. I want this perfect for Sectionals" she shouts through the megaphone one she's picked it up. We all hurry into our starting positions. We make our way through our routines for Sectionals. We end up going through the routines four times, each time Coach Sylvester shouting insults through that bloody megaphone of hers. After just over an hour of constant practise Coach Sylvester makes her way down from the bleachers and onto the field and calls the session to an end. I grab my backpack from the ground and make my way to the parking lot, chatting the Quinn and Brittany as I do. "Feeling all right, Quinn?" I hear Coach Sylvester say as I walk past her leaving Quinn behind me. It's never good news whenever Coach pulls you over for a chat, I'm just glad it's not me this week.
/
I arrive home to an empty house, yet again. My father is out of town all weekend on a conference and my mother has picked up some extra shifts to cover for another member of staff who is off sick, so my house is empty. I hate staying by myself in an empty house. I'm not scared of physically being alone. Growing up with my abuela and in Lima Heights, you've gotta learn how to protect yourself. But I am scared of being alone with my thoughts. When the house is empty and the dark and the eerie silence takes over is when my true thoughts come out. I try going to sleep that night, but the silence gets the better of me. I check my phone, it's 1:27am in the morning and sleep still eludes me, so I go down to the kitchen and being to drink another of Sue's protein shake when my mind starts to wander.
It starts off innocent, just unanswered questions about my day... 'I wonder what Coach Sylvester wanted to speak to Quinn about. Was it about me? Did I do something wrong during practise?' They then start to increasingly get darker… 'Is she going to kick me off the Cheerios? What would my abuela think if I got kicked off the squad? She would be right; I would be a failure. I did mess up the landing of that round off today at practise. Oh god, I am getting kicked off the squad. You are a failure, Santana. A pathetic, failure'. I subconsciously make my way to the freezer, my thoughts still racing, and fumble around trying to find the ice-cream. There is no ice-cream. No, no, no, no, no I start to panic. I need food, I need something to takeover these thoughts. I throw open the cupboard doors and find my father's treat box hidden in the back. I open it, yes, its full. I tip the box upside down and look through the selection of chocolate in front of me. I take the nearest bar and rip off the wrapper. I devour the bar in three bites. I take another. I do the same. And again. And again. I eat seven candy bars before my stomach lets out a load groan pulling me back to reality and I realise what I've done. A new wave of thoughts enter my mind.
'Shit, I've eaten Papi's candy. Those are for him only. How could you be so stupid Santana. He's going to go mental. Is he going to hit me again? No, he hasn't raised a hand to me in years now. Not since I became a Cheerio. And I did deserve it. I'm sure I did. But if I get kicked off the Cheerios, then I will deserve it. Maybe he'll tell my abuela, that's worse, she knows just how to make it sting for days without leaving a mark. That's how you know it's out of love, not hate. She hasn't hit me since I joined the Cheerios either. I need to stay on the Cheerios, whatever it takes.' My stomach growls again and I push my hands on top of it, trying to muffle the sound. I feel a bump forming on my stomach. I look down… 'Fuck, look at the size of you, Lopez. Coach Sue was right, you do look like a baby whale. You're going to get kicked off the Cheerios for sure now. You stupid, stupid, girl'
After eating candy bar after candy bar to the point of pure self hatred doesn't feel like a bad enough punishment anymore, I make my way to the bathroom. You brought this on yourself Lopez I tell myself as I slump down into front of the toilet. Tears form in the corner of my eyes as I begin to put my two fingers into my mouth and down my throat. The bile burns the back off my throat, but I keep going. Water, I need water I tell myself…'You don't deserve water' the voice in my head snaps back to me. I agree with the voice and put my fingers back down my throat, the burning intensifying and the tears now streaming down my face. After I am both emotionally and physically empty, I can't find the strength to stand back up. I look at the time on my phone. 2:37am and crumble into a pile on the floor. I spend the rest of the night on the cold, hard marble of the bathroom floor, fighting back the tears and ignoring the burning sensation in my throat.