Naya Rivera

(1987-2020)

Rest in Power


Directed by Arthur Abrams

Video 1—Huracán—Between Two Loves

Santana walked up to Artie's chair next to the camera, "What kinda car is that?" A bright red car parked on a green mat with the same green cloth behind it.

Artie whipped his head around, He looked up at his friend with his trademark toothy grin and sparkle of envy in his eyes. "That, Santana, is a Lamborghini Huracán Spyder convertible. It has a sticker price of around 300 grand. It's the sweetest ride you'll ever sit your fine round ass in, I am extremely jealous that you have the excuse to drive it, and I won't."

Santana looked at him with folded arms and raised eyebrows. "What the fuck! Artie!" This was to be a cheap production." She swung her left hand toward the car. "Where did you get that car? Who's paying for it?"

A frown of displeasure passed over Artie's face at the criticism of his directorial decision. "The car belongs to a friend of June Dolloway, the socialite friend of Blaine's." He wiggled his upper torso back toward the car, "That dude over there with the Nero haircut, it belongs to him." Artie used a gloved hand to push his glasses up to rest higher on his nose. "He wants to teach you how to drive the car before you solo in it."

"What happens if I wreck the damn car when he tries to grab a feel?"

"From what I understand, he would prefer to cop a feel of Elliott or Blaine. You're safe." He included a wink to his smirk as he peeked back to see the astonishment in Santana's face. "His name is Jorge. Fluent in Spanish. Get on his good side. He could be helpful."

Artie observed his frenemy from high school work her charm on Jorge. She'd evolved into quite the charmer, he snickered to himself. Skills Santana developed from hustling in the city, going on tour, and her travels with Brittany in Europe after their Greek holiday. Artie wondered why she kept that charm for strangers and not for her friends. He checked his wristwatch. Kurt was no doubt expecting him to approve wardrobe selections. Palms to the wheels, Artie rolled over to the wardrobe tent set up for the shoot. He entered through the flap, "Kurt, what did your friend at Vogue loan us for the shoot?"

Kurt, electrified by his assignment to dress Santana, jumped, his voice going to the high squeak. "Isabelle was so excited when I asked her for help. You know she'll want to see the end product. Maybe she'll hire you to work with 'A-list' models."

"Only if they want to be part of my independent film company, I'm starting after I graduate."

Kurt cleared his throat, his voice back to his normal range "Yeah, we can hope they will. Anyway, Santana looks good in everything, I mean you could throw a trash bag over her, and she'd kill it."

"True, but not for this shoot."

"Right, since the car is red, colors that clash and the reds that blend, I've removed. Which are these here," Waving his hand over dresses in clear garment bags, "That leaves these that I've selected?" Swiping his hand across a dress rack to bring Artie's attention to the attire of various lengths and styles waiting for the young director's approval. "I like black. The yellow, even though it's a pale soft shade that would look good against her brown skin tone. It wouldn't say," looking out the door, "fuck me, if you know what I mean."

Artie nodded, "Exactly what I'm after, Kurt. So long or short?"

"I reviewed your changes to the storyboard. Which is much more descriptive than what you first showed us." Kurt's shoulders drooped as he let his arms relax at his side, "Seriously, Artie? You have her rolling across the front of the car, doing everything short of spreading her legs." Kurt said, "I think it's best to stay with a long basic black gown with minimal adornments to prevent scratching the surface."

"Your choices would be what?"

Kurt pulled out the gown he had in mind, "This from a fashion designer who's been the talk of the fashion industry this year. His shows in Milan and Paris were the must-see of fashion week. They're comparing him to Dior. He apprenticed for Versace, his sister, Donatella, not Gianni."

"OK, you know those names mean nothing to me, Kurt." Artie cleared his throat. "So, I trust you to make the right decision, and you'll deal with any Lima Heights Adjacent flare-ups when they develop while filming."

"Oh, doesn't the director work with the talent?"

"Not today. I'm delegating that to the wardrobe department. You can thank me later. What about add-ons? Shoes, jewelry?" Kurt described his choices for shoes and jewelry. He cautioned Artie that Santana would have to remove the jewelry if she rolled across the front of the car.

Elliott would wear a simple tux when he filmed his part with Santana and blue jeans and t-shirt when he shot with Dani, who'd play the girl back home.

"Where's Kitty, wasn't she in charge of makeup and hair?"

"I'm right here," Kitty entered the tent with Brittany. "We ran over to Starbucks for coffee." Offering Kurt and Artie each a cup. "Anyway, hairstyle? Brittany suggested keeping Santana's hair down like in their wedding. You remember it laid over her shoulders, with the left side pulled back from her face."

"Makeup?"

"Uh well, San is the makeup expert. So, we'll give our opinion after she's done."

"Well, OK, I guess." Artie not sure how to respond, yet knowing that Brittany spoke the truth. "What about Elliott's?"

"Yeah, we'll let Santana do that too."

"OK, Kitty," Artie turned his head as he heard the Lamborghini's engine come to life. He checked his wristwatch, "We're a few minutes early, I didn't consider she'd be so willing to drive the car." He spun his chair around to exit the tent, followed by his friends. As they stepped into the morning light, they watched as Santana behind the wheel maneuvered the car around the vacant parking lot. Artie using his hand to block the rising sun, "I am so envious."

"V10 Multi-Point Injection, 0 to 100 in 10 seconds with a max speed of 200mph. That baby flies," Kurt watched in awe as Santana spun the car around the lot.

"Since when do you know cars, Kurt?" Artie looked up at his friend

"That's not a car, that is a ride in a legal street rocket. The haute couture of autos. Like her dress, Santana belongs in that car."

Brittany listened as Kurt spoke of her wife, realizing he still didn't understand Santana. He only saw her outside the bitch diva, when inside she's a sweet Almond Joy. "No, San's a hoarder with her cars, she wouldn't have any place to store her poops."

Kitty grinned at the taller blonde, amused by Brittany's oddball statements, "Come on, girl, let's go set up Santana's makeup."

Kitty stayed as the shoot progressed through the day. She chuckled when she heard Santana threatened to go all Lima Heights Adjacent on Artie's sorry ass out of pure frustration with his direction. The short blonde considered Kurt a hero to go between them then agree with Santana that the moves Artie wanted around the car weren't working. While Kurt walked Santana to the tent to refresh her makeup and cool down, she helped Brittany create choreography that would work. Kitty, in jeans, managed a roll across the front of the Lamborghini, not a slippery evening dress. They tossed it. Artie objected, she pointed her finger at him, 'Don't!' A disgruntled Artie huffed, backing away from the women.

The dance sequence with Elliott required several retakes when Santana and Elliott giggled as they peered into each other's eyes. Kurt stepped in to try it with both, only to find he too fell into a fit of giggles. Again, Brittany stepped in to alter the dance moves, leaving out Artie's guidance of 'I need to see lust. Desire. Look at each other as prurient aphrodisiacs. Unrestrained in want and ruttishness.' Brittany hinted to the two to 'act like you want to fuck.' The driving scene with Santana behind the wheel went without error, although when she turned the car back onto the green mat, she missed the mark, causing a retake. The do-over was perfect. With Jorge at the wheel, Artie went on his car ride.

"Hey," Dani came up behind Kitty, who monitored Brittany as she guided Elliott through a dance move, "how's it going?"

"I'd say it's been pleasant. Santana has murdered nobody. Elliott hasn't quit. And lucky for us, Artie can't leave his chair.

"That bad?"

"Nah, not really. Artie has different expectations of what she can do in an evening gown with a car. Lucky for you that Brittany is a fucking great choreographer, or we'd have the cops here."

"I guess that's a good thing."

"The day we met was also the first time you met Brittany, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was. Not the phantom I expected." Kitty threw a curious glance at Dani, "Santana never spoke about her, but she was a constant while we dated."

"You two never stayed friends on Facebook?"

"No, when I left home, I closed down my Facebook account. I didn't want my parents to find me. When San and I broke up, I started a new account. How I found out about the engagement was Rachel and Kurt sharing the posts. The wedding too."

"Ouch. That must have hurt."

"The story of my life, new beginnings."

"Well, we're all Lima misfits, but we stick together, no man or woman gets left behind. No matter the fuck up, you're always welcomed back."

"That so?"

"Yep," Kitty nodded "And as creepy cult-like, and as it sounds, they're more a family too me, than my own."

"Family is a circle of friends we create for ourselves."

"Hey, Dani, is it?" Brittany walked up to the two women, "Like you're Dani. Right? I mean, the awesome Dani I met had normal colored hair, not blue. This is like a good thing because Artie will lose it if you're Dani, and you've changed the color of your hair before a shoot. After all that, Dani is a sweet country girl. Which means a young Carrie Underwood. But like Kitty and I know, blondes are born with magical power, like doing the splits or turning Swedish."

Kitty looked over at Dani, "It's best just to smile right now." following her own advice, "Did you get glam gay and graceful dancing again?"

"No, just calmed Artie. You know, for a robot he's impatient. Like none of my quantitative algorithms are impatient. I just hit the enter key, and they process until they reach the end. I'm wondering if Artie hasn't gotten ahold of that emotion chip like Data in Star Trek wanted? If it's true, then it needs to go, like ASAP."

"Artie's about to call it a day, Brittany. He has a date tonight with a girl from his school. He'll be calmer at tomorrow's shoot."

"I sure hope so. I wouldn't want that awesome Dani to have to deal with him like Santana had too. She might leave the band, and they need her light lyric mezzo-soprano, with her 3-octave range."

Something distracted all three as Santana strode as fast as she could away from the car toward the tent, "I don't want to hear it, Kurt. I want to go home with my wife, sit on the couch, watch a rom-com on Netflix, drink wine, and get my cuddle on later. Why? Because I have to spend all day Sunday reading to catch-up on my Psychology of Women elective. While Britt is grading papers!"

"Santana!" Kurt screeched following behind her "It's just two photos to send home to our parents. Britt, help me out here, please."

"Honey," Brittany reached out, grabbing Santana, she brought her in for a hug, Santana relaxed into her wife's body with a sigh. "Let me take the pictures."

Santana's frustrated anger died away into mumble on Brittany's shoulder, "Make it quick."

"Sure. Cos, I want to go home and get our cuddle on too." Brittany kissed Santana's hair.

"OK. But just a couple." Santana took her wife's hand to lead her back to the car to pose with Elliott and Kurt.

Dani gave Kitty a confused expression, "What the fuck was that?"

Kitty threw her hands up with a shrug of her shoulders, "No clue. Brittany magic. She complimented you when she mentioned your vocal range. Before that, she threw you a hint that the blue hair has to go. I assume it's a temporary dye?"

Dani nodded as she used her fingers to comb through her hair.

"Yeah, natural hair color is what Artie expects tomorrow." Kitty shrugged, "Just a suggestion."

Video 2—The Rope—So Strong

For the second video, they produced a more conventional video using Marley's song. Artie added flair to what was another pop-driven love song. "What you'll do is grab the rope, place a foot the loop, then swing in front of the camera. I've had two ropes placed on each side," pointing to the rope hanging a few feet away. "Meaning two can swing at once and cross paths in front of the camera."

Elliott tugging on the cable, "Will the rope bear my weight?".

"Yes, they're capable of holding up to 1000 pounds, with a max weight of 300."

Roderick adjusting his glasses as he tilted his head up, "How are they anchored?"

"No clue. The rigging class took care of that for me. But the riggers assured me they tested the ropes."

"With what a Barbie doll?" Santana's remark meant to irritate the aspiring director.

"No, Rolle, a student at the school. His hobby is weightlifting. He competes in the 109 kg and over class, which should cover your almost anorexic weight with ease Santana along with Roderick's and Elliott's, too."

"Hey, Artie," Santana called out, flipping the bird at him. "Muscle weighs more than fat."

"A BMI of 18 is still underweight!"

"It's 19 wheels!"

"Are you subtracting the four pounds of weight you carry in those boob bags you had crammed into your rib cage to build your tremendous twins? In all likelihood, not."

"Be glad you're in a chair. Otherwise, I'd challenge you to a race to the top, one your sorry ass would lose!"

Artie rotated in his chair, "A challenge I'd win because men have better upper body strength than women. So, your challenge Santana is a moot point regardless if I'm in this chair or not."

"All right enough!" Blaine ordered as he joined the group in the studio, "The more you two kids argue, the longer we all have to be here." Stopping when he came to Artie, "OK, what's the plan?"

Artie swiveled back in his chair back toward the drummer, who was setting up his drum set on the platform. "To continue, Cam is setting his drum set in the conventional center stage position. On my left will be Lennon covering synth in place of Dani, who is standing in front of her on lead guitar. In the center will be Elliott and Santana, who are singing lead. Next to Santana will be Rod on acoustic guitar. Behind him are Franco, on bass, and Jon on rhythm guitar. Once they get here, Austin on alto sax and Dani's girlfriend Mel on baritone sax will be behind Roderick. Since the original track overlaid Santana and Dani's voices, Brittany and Kitty will sing backup." Breathless, Artie ended his description.

"Wait, your girlfriend plays sax, Dani?"

"High school marching band, orchestra, woodwind ensemble."

"You know Artie, the baritone sax doesn't play a big part in the music. Is there a way we can add it to the last track, and Mel can stand with Britt and Kitty? Make the band visually more appealing. Bigger. Not a have a garage band look."

Artie shook his head, "That would ruin my esthetic vision of how I set up this scene, Blaine. As an artist myself, I must insist on creative control of this video."

"Loosen up, Artie. It was just a question." Blaine squeezed Artie's shoulder. "Wardrobe, will they be wearing their street clothes, or does your vision have something else?"

"Santana will be in skin-tight black leather pants courtesy of Vogue, with a white widow maker shirt that enhances her, uh… her uh…"

"Twins, gotcha, go on."

Artie cleared his throat, "Dani also in black leather pants and her leather jacket. Elliott and Roderick will wear black jeans with wine or burgundy sweaters, Elliott in a V-neck, Roderick in crew neck, with black boots. To even out the height differences, Dani and Santana will be in black heeled boots of their choosing. The band and backup singers will also be in black jeans and black crew neck sweaters."

"It's kinda monochrome, don't you think?"

"Well, the floor is a light natural wood, and the back wall is brick, bringing out a simple organic texture to the composition. The purpose here, Blaine, is to feature the song, the music, and lyrics to what is, in essence, a love song."

"True, how about makeup?"

"I've asked both Dani and Santana to keep their makeup light and natural. Same with their hair. Well, I didn't speak soon enough, Dani has gone blonde overnight. Fortunately, it will still work with the floor being a light shade, plus Brittany and Kitty are natural blondes. I wish she'd ask before she does that next time. The reason I went with this monochrome look was both she and Santana had burgundy highlights in their hair."

"Women change their hair like they change their underwear," Blaine kept his voice low. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about another video?"

"Another video? Speak to me."

"I looked over the finances. If we keep it simple, we could swing another video."

"What song would you use?"

"Santana's boyfriend song."

"Oh, you mean the song she wrote for Brittany while they were on their honeymoon in the Bahamas for an entire month. The one where she wisely changed the gender before recording it?"

"Yeah, that one, it's got a sweet, airy Caribbean sound to it, it might broaden our demographic. If parents like it and it's not selling sexy, then they may let their kids buy the downloads. Hook the kids while they're young, then they'll follow us into adulthood."

"First that song is about lesbian lovers if that story gets out you can throw any demographic, except for lesbians, out the window. Second, what's with the plural pronouns? I thought we were helping, not part of the group."

"To answer your questions, Melissa Etheridge and the Indigo Girls' wrote their songs with women in mind. And at some point, if they become successful. Hiding the fact that three-quarters of the band's lead singers are gay will be like trying to hide Mt. Rushmore behind a baby's blanket. To answer your second question, until they're ready to fly on their own, we're a team."

Artie held his chin in his gloved hand as in deep thought, "Do you remember when Santana danced with the new Spanish teacher at McKinley?"

"Yeah, it was hot when she put Schue in his place. Since she did it on purpose." Blaine snickered.

"That it was, but Santana's performance lacked any pretense. She conveyed her message by stripping everything away to keep it simple. No theatricality like we did or Schue. I'm wondering if Brittany could choreograph a dance for Elliott, with Santana? The school has a laser device that we" Artie emphasizing 'we,' "could use."

"Wasn't that a samba, Artie? I have in mind a Calypso, I mean the soundtrack includes steel drums. We could get everyone together, throw a party, something along those lines."

"Blaine, it's fall. Anyone outside in beachwear would be fricking blue. Lights would be a nightmare."

"Or not. Consider it, Artie."

Video 3—We're All Adults—Love Dance

Streetlights lit the pavement as Artie wheeled his course toward an unpretentious brick building. The windows darkened out to ward off outsiders from seeing inward for privacy. A neon sign above the door with 'Cashmere's Gentlemen's Club.' Below that, a hint 'Must be 21 to Enter.'

Roderick watched Cam, Jon, Franco, and Artie all dug into their pockets for their billfolds. Each chose a plastic photo ID to hand over to the doorman, who sported a hawk tattoo from ear to ear across his neck. "Uh, I'm not 21."

"We're not here for the entertainment. We're here to scope out a location for your next video." Artie grinned as he turned to the doorman with his ID. "Is Cashmere here tonight?"

"Boss is in the back. I'll tell her you're here, Artie."

Roderick handed over his ID to the dour security doorman. Who scanned his ID card. The guy gave it back, "Cover for you is 250. You're underage."

"Oh, my bad," Artie retrieved more money from his wallet. "My treat, Rod. You can reimburse me later."

Roderick shifted his glasses upon his face, "Uh, OK, Thanks, I guess." He accompanied his buddies into the business. Blue lights floated from the ceiling, illuminating the floor. Techno-music emanated from old-school big box speakers mounted to the side stage. A woman sporting a g-string whirled around a pole on stage, a white spotlight fixated on her as she performed. Roderick's mouth agape as he watched his first stripper dance in person and not from a video he'd snuck from his old man's collection. A swat to his leg drew his attention back to his companions, who sat at a table.

"Rod, this is Cashmere. She owns the club. And is a good friend of mine."

"Rod, good to meet ya. I always welcome any friend of my boy Artie." A middle-aged woman with too much makeup, but the body of a woman half her age smiled at Roderick. "So whatcha having? I'll have Billy bring it over."

Rod seated next to Artie, leaned in to listen over the music, "Cashmere helped me when my chair became wedged in a doorway at the bodega around the corner. Her sister has cerebral palsy. We've been buddies ever since." He shrieked in Roderick's ear. Roderick nodded. He kept an eye on a girl who couldn't have been much younger than him, walk toward their table. She draped her arms around Cam, who didn't complain as the girl nuzzled his neck. Again Artie raised his voice near Roderick's ear, "That's Allegra, but her actual name is Olivia. She's hot for drummers." Roderick nodded again as a woolly arm sat a glass in front of him. He sipped from the glass, plain Coke, Cashmere must have been told, or conjectured his age. The music paused for a new dancer to take the stage as the patrons waited. He overheard Allegra squeal to Jon, who she called Torch. She used nicknames for all the men at the table. Artie was Wheels. Franco was Rif. Cam, she called Sticks. Jon was Astro for the dog in the Jetsons. Roderick, she christened RamRod.

As the next dancer started her act, Allegra disappeared, but not before running her hand up Roderick's back. He got a shiver down his spine at the touch. Rod watched as his friends dug out dollar bills from their pockets, all shoving the bills into shirt pockets. An abrupt awareness that he'd come unprepared for the evening's entertainment. He relaxed back into his chair, thanking Kitty for talking him into following her to NYU. Brittany for suggesting he audition. Dani, Elliott, and Santana for choosing him. And Artie, for paying his way into Cashmere's. Roderick laughed to himself, pondering that this adult life was a good thing.


Santana surveyed the gentleman's club. It differed little from the lesbian club where she'd caged danced. An oval-shaped bar with a center stage and two poles dominated the room. She identified two satellite platforms, each with a pole and primary stage with a single pole—all with stairs for the artists to enter or exit. Cushioned chairs and tables lined the stairs for both on each side. She guessed blue LED lights illuminated the area. Padded armless chairs, arranged around tables with enough room for the staff and clients to maneuver, covered the open floor space. Off to one side, a heavy drape hung from a hallway. Santana guessed it led to the secluded VIP suites. At the bar, a burly man with woolly arms mopped around the bar. He nodded an acknowledgment when he looked at Santana, Dani, and Kitty walk-in with Artie and Kurt.

Kurt, his head bent toward the ceiling, scanned the room, "Artie, this isn't the vision I think the band wants to convey."

Artie twisted his chair that he'd parked between the bar and tables, then whirled around to confront his companions, "No, it's perfect." His toothy grin displayed as he readjusted his glasses, "Dani and Santana on the poles, scantily clad." He pointed toward the bar stage, "The band on that stage." He raised his hand toward the music hall stage. "Then Roderick and Elliott on the satellite stages. Uh, probably in jeans and a tee."

"Yeah, I've got to agree with Kurt here, Artie." Kitty peered down to spot what she'd step on before she started forward, "Not the image they want to communicate."

"No look," he reached behind his back to pull out a sketch pad. He found the sketches he'd prepared, flipping it around to illustrate his concept. "We'll pack the place with classmates. Then Dani and Santana will work the poles exquisitely. Rod and Elliott stumbling around the poles. Jon and Franco gliding up and down while playing. Lennon and Cam will try them too."

Dani scratched her head, "One problem with that. I've never danced on a pole. So you can ditch that perfect idea."

"Not a problem." Artie nodded toward Billy, who moved a hand beneath the bar. Cashmere entered from a door behind her, followed by Allegra. "You have coaches." He beamed, resisting Dani's argument.

Cashmere sized up Artie's three female companions. She realized the short blonde would appeal to a few patrons whose preferences leaned toward the young woman's petite frame. But the two dark-haired women could make a livelihood as dancers. Not to overlook, build up her business. Both were beautiful. Long black hair that framed flawless faces. Eyes that sparkled when they smiled. Straight white teeth. Their tight yoga pants emphasized well-shaped asses. Cashmere observed the posture of the taller of the two, her low-cut cropped tee, shoulders back. She'd venture a few grand that the pride in the way the woman carried herself came from breast surgery. Both she surmised came from at least middle-class homes: ethnicity, Hispanic, but a blend of European or even Black forebears. Exotic either way generated cash, even in Brooklyn. "Who wants to learn to pole dance?"

Dani's jaw fell, "Uh..."

Next to her, Santana handed Kitty her bag, removed her tunic, "I'll try it." She followed Cashmere up the stairs of the music hall stage.

Cashmere, impressed by the taller woman's eagerness to learn, as she watched Santana climb the stairs to the stage. She presumed that attitude of hers didn't come from experience but over-confidence. She turned toward Santana, gripping the chrome pole next to her. "Have you done this before?"

Santana viewed the older woman with amusement in her eyes. "Yeah, I have. You might want to step back." She grasped the pole with her hand above her head, opted for an outside turn rotating around the pole. Accompanied that with a pirouette. Santana kept her hand on the pole, the other she placed below her waist, grasping the pole. She leaned back onto the vertical cylinder with one foot that she rested on her thigh. With both feet on the floor, she walked around the chrome tube. Then lifted a leg off the floor to swing around, lifting both feet up as she clutched the pole between her legs to move to a fireman's spin. Santana proceeded with the moves she knew chair spin and back hook spin. With each shift accentuating her legs, ass or breasts. To display her upper arm power, she worked a knee tuck., Then a climb and seat moves to sell her leg strength. She freed her hands to spread her arms out to the side. Santana wrapped up with the stereotypical pole moves of cartwheel and carousel.

At the end of Santana's exhibition, Cashmere stared over at her, "Need a job?"

"Uh, no." flaunting her wedding ring, "Wife doesn't enjoy horny men pawing me." It was a white lie. She didn't enjoy men pawing her.

"Fair enough. But a shame. You'd rake it in here."

In the hour that followed before the bar opened, the now three teachers helped Dani. Whose new hobby kick-boxing gave her the strength to pick up the basic movements with ease. Kitty and Kurt took a turn on the pole. Kitty's dance and gymnastic training granted her an advantage in the exercise. Kurt's movements were a step above his dance moves. His newfound upper arm strength proved the difference. Artie, entertained with the results, shoved his glasses up, smirking as he planned to himself, 'this is gonna be great.'


Artie, arms crisscrossed. He held his chin down in his palm as he observed Kurt's picks for the stripper pole video. "No, Kurt, that's not my vision." He shook his head.

"Excuse me? I assumed you wanted Dani and Santana scantly clothed? Isn't that what you said?"

Artie dropped his hands to wheel closer, "I did. But my vision didn't consist of boy shorts and sports bras. Where are the above the knee black platform boots? Lacey Victoria Secret bras? The thongs? You're making an exercise video sans Richard Simmons."

"Artie, it's a YouTube music video, not one for Pornhub. You can't put either of the girls in clothes like that and expect children to watch it."

"Kurt, we're trying to pull in viewers, that includes adult men. And wasn't it Brittany who said sex sells?"

"If you want lecherous old men and horny adolescent males, it does! But it's women who buy the music. Who asks their boyfriends to take them out to clubs."

"And the song is about having sex. That's the essence of the song. We're not making an exercise video to sell to middle-class homemakers in Lima. It's about how Brittany turns Santana on. When she dances."

Pointing toward Artie's storyboard, "You're shooting in a striptease club..."

"Gentlemen's Club." Artie corrected Kurt

"Whatever! You've got Dani and Santana giving Elliott and Roderick lap dances! That wasn't part of the vision you explained to us two days ago." Kurt collected his fashion storyboards. "You've got them using whips for God's sake!" he turned toward his friend, "None of which are in the song!"

Both distracted by the noise of the bolt clicking in the lock as the door pushed open to see Blaine with Roderick. Along with the three male band members. Blaine tossed his keys in the basket next to the door. "What's going on, guys? We heard you from down the hall." He walked over to Kurt to give him a welcome home kiss. Blaine noticed the strained irritation in his husband's face. "Kurt?" he angled to glance at Artie, "Artie?"

"Just. Just look at Artie's latest storyboard concept for the video, Blaine. Tell me if you agree with me."

"Alright." Blaine scanned over to Artie's drawings to examine each pane "Wow!" nodding his head "Wow. That's. That's um cutting edge."

Roderick beside Blaine looked over the drawings, "Uh, I've never had a lap dance before, and I not sure I want my first to be with either Dani or Santana."

"Santana is with you, Roderick, Dani's partner is Elliott," Artie clarified for the men in the room.

Roderick felt a slap on his shoulder, "Dude, you've never had a lap dance. If you want to punch that card, I can arrange something with Olivia. Uh, Allegra, or one of her friends."

Roderick pushed up his glasses, then slid his fingers into his jean pockets. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Cam."

"If you're declining the part, me or Jon would be glad to take over for you. Who gives a shit if she's married." Roderick felt Franco jab his elbow to his ribs.

"Yeah," Blaine's face changing to a shade of red as he tuned in to the conversation, "I don't think that's the point here." Blaine narrowed his lips as he struggled to figure out how to reason with Artie that this wasn't a brilliant concept. "Artie, I appreciate your creative vision, but you just need to tone it down and take out the lap dances. Maybe the whips too."

"And the clothing Blaine?"

"Uh, well, I understand exercise clothes... uh, won't work here, Kurt. How about a nice one-piece black swimsuit? That might work." He waved a hand toward the drawing, "Or a low-cut two-piece suit that you'd spot a woman wearing at the beach."

Kurt glimpsed a smirk on Artie's face, "And the boots?"

"Uh, well..."

"Olivia says they expect the platform shoes during shows."

Blaine let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, "Let the girls choose. They may not even have platforms."

"Blaine, we're talking about Santana, her shoe collection requires its own U-Haul to move."


Kurt, with reluctance, acquiesced to Artie. He found a cage neck top with high waist bikini bottoms for Dani to wear. Santana found a halter top, which Kurt embellished with tassels and a low-cut bikini bottom. He altered both to get rid of the silver clasps and insignia's from the suits. Cursing as he worked, still not liking the impression the video would leave with the viewers. Inside, Kurt wondered if he wasn't a prude about the whole concept. He selected business suits from Elliott and Roderick's closets. Not having a choice, but he thanked God for Olivia, who came through to loan Dani an extra pair of platforms she'd just purchased. He again acknowledged Santana for saving her cage dancer platforms.

The filming took two weekends since they could only have access to the bar during off-hours. Billy, the bartender, grumbled at the early hours he'd have to cover. Cashmere slipped him an extra $400 and told him to enjoy the show. Artie shot each of the four leads alone, performing their own pole dance. The same with the band, mixing the foursome into twosomes. He coupled up Dani and Elliott, the same with Santana and Roderick. Not liking what he saw, he reversed the duos. Artie chastised Santana for Roderick's makeup. It was too red. Santana shot back, 'He's embarrassed. Cut the lap dance, for fuck's sake! No one likes it.' The last shot was the entire band performing on stage, all in street clothes. He and his school buddy Amir would edit the video into a dream sequence. The video would start with then on stage, cutting between the pole dances, to end with them back on stage.

Video 4—Calypso— El Caribe

Artie chose a Bushwick parking lot for their street party video. Brittany choreographed a Calypso dance aided by the sudden arrival of Mike Chang, who was in New York for an interview with Ailey Dance Studio. Artie incurred higher costs when he stood firm on running multiple cameras, handheld, dolly based, and a drone equipped camera. The shoot required extra dancers. Kurt put out an appeal at NYADA, plus Brittany's colleagues and pupils from her work. When the neighborhood got wind of the party, the entire shoot grew into a flash mob. Artie lost control.

Later, as Artie viewed the footage from the day. He realized that no amount of direction could embody or capture the authentic joy expressed on the faces of his friends, the dancers, and those from the neighborhood. The camera had caught not only Brittany and Santana dancing together. Blaine and Kurt. Dani and Mel. Elliott with a male NYADA student. Kitty with Roderick. Mike with a group of little children, teaching them the dance. Plus, men and women of color and diverse ages dancing with each other. Artie picked up his phone, "Amir, where are you?… Apologize to your parents and get your butt over to the editing room. I need your help. Oh, and bring me a container of your Mom's couscous. I haven't had dinner yet. No. No camel. Still, haven't got my head around eating camel. Thanks."

Video Premiere Night

The team gathered at Rachel and Jesse's apartment to view the four videos that the band had produced under Artie's direction. Kurt sat on the couch next to Blaine, a large bowl of popcorn in this lap. "Rachel, we need an honest opinion on the videos."

"Don't worry, I've never hesitated with constructive criticism on a performance. Even yours."

"Rachel is a master at performance evaluation." Jesse squeezed his girlfriend closer to his body. "And because of her guidance, I'm a better performer."

"Yeah, well with that, our first video is Dani's song 'Between Two Loves'" Artie point the remote at the screen to start the video. Rachel extracted herself from Jesse's grasp to grab the paper and pen from the coffee table. Ten minutes after the video ended, Rachel quit writing notes.

"Well, the concept is somewhat dated. I mean, turn on Hallmark, and you'll have your pick of country girl versus city girl. The choreography too simple. It's missing that wow factor. Although the car was impressive, the staging came off more like an advertisement for a car than a music video. Costumes, Dani's outfit was a little to Daisy Dukes for my taste. Santana's too elegant for the setting. Elliott was by far the most appropriate in either scenario. As far as vocals go, Dani, your range though impressive, you sounded a little muffled at the low end, and you pushed at the higher end. Santana too nasal. And Elliott, your belting sounded more like a scream queen."

"Who invited you?"

Kurt swiveled around, "Santana criticism is part of the art of performance."

Artie took the nod from Elliott as a cue and pointed the remote toward the TV. "Next video is So Strong written by Marley Rose."

Rachel's criticism was brief. The band faded into the background because of the poor lighting choices and the ropes an unnecessary prop, more a distraction than a needed addition. Dani's belt was impressive, as were Elliotts. Santana's voice fitted the garage band tone of the music, though she needed to work on her head voice. Roderick should work on his vocal technique. Cam, the g-string on his guitar, sounded sharp. Mel's breathing technique was inconsistent while playing the sax. Brittany was off a beat with the tambourine.

"OK, let go to the next video." Artie pushed the play button on the remote.

The screen flickered. Santana appeared in a sheer black lace teddy with a neckline that plunged to above her waistline and tied at her nape. The back opened to a strapped thong with black boots up to her knees. On the stage, Roderick sat on a chair in his usual western shirt and jeans.

"Wait! We didn't film this." Artie looked over to Britt, who'd brought the DVD. "Where did this come from?" Brittany looked back, her arms folded her eyebrows raised in surprise.

Santana stood in front of Roderick, facing him. The camera taking in her round ass. Her head turned with a tilt toward the camera. Like a curtain, her hair fell as her large sleepy eyes and full lips peeked around to start this game of seduction.

She turned to face the camera. With a polished grace, Santana crossed her torso with her arms. Her right hand on her left shoulder, she rested her left hand on her right hip, extending her right leg out to her side. Her eyes stared into the camera, and with a slight parting of her lips, she slid the hand resting on her hip down, touching her thigh. Passed her knee, onto her calf, to her ankle. This caused her hip to jut out, now stressing her ass as the focal point. She positioned her free arm outward for balance. When she reached her ankle, she reversed the process, this time using both her hands to caress leg. When she reached her hip, she crossed her body with both palms in a sensual massage. Clasping her neck up into her hair as she ended with them behind her head. Santana jerked her elbows out. The action thrust her chest out as she brought her legs together.

Santana stepped forward. Next, she whipped back around to face Roderick, where she gave him lustful body rolls. She dropped to a squat position with both hands on her knees, then grabbed the seat between Roderick's knees for balance; she pushed up. A brief display of her bare ass filled the camera as she stood up. Santana walked around the back of the chair as she grazed a finger across Roderick's shoulder, then neck, to wrap her arms around him. Her hair fell like a drape. With slow precision, she slid her hands back to his shoulders to continue around the chair. Once she'd reached the opposite side, she lifted her heeled foot onto Roderick's thigh, grabbing his head to lean it into her hips, which she rolled with unchaste wickedness. She released him from her grasp as she placed her foot back to the floor. Santana stepped back in front of him to face the camera where she performed four short moves composed of undulating hips and shoulder shimmies. In a swift movement, Santana bent over. She extended her left arm between her legs, landing on her hand at the base of her butt. Then brought her hand forward in a rubbing motion across her lady bits. Santana ended the move with an abrupt drop back into a squat. To bring herself back erect, she swayed her hips and shoulders with a sinuous full-body wave. Her knees twisting in and out on the balls of her feet as though she were dancing.

Santana rolled her hips two times to the left, followed by two to the right. Her hands in a palpable erotic chest massage, around her neck, going up through her hair, popping her elbow out. Santana made a sharp turn back toward Roderick. She bent down, her voluptuous breasts lurched forward, affording Roderick a view that few men would ever see. As she moved her hands between his legs, resting them on the chair for balance before sliding her hands onto Roderick's thighs. Santana took his hand in hers. She drew him up off the chair as she raised their hands above her shoulder. Together they walked forward four steps. Her hips undulated as she walked. She released his hand so Santana could once more roll her body before a sudden drop back into a brief squat. She worked a booty bounce, then using her hands to push off from her knees to stand. Santana placed a hand on his chest with a sensual rub across it. She again lowered her body down into a squat. Another booty bounce followed, with a pop to stand. Santana walked around him, sitting on the chair. She twisted her head back and forth, caressing her own body until her hands lay on her knees. She snapped her legs apart. Her right hand on the back of the seat to steady herself, Santana lifted her ass from the chair. With her free hand, she rubbed across her chest down toward her center. Her ass fell back on the chair, she once again snapped her legs apart. Next, she kicked a leg up, leaning over her hands at her ankle as she ran them in a smooth motion up her calf, over her knee, her thigh. Her inner hand reached the area between her legs. She stopped. Her other hand continued upward, stopping to caress her ass cheek.

Santana stood, then rotated to face the chair. She bent over her hands on the seat. She twerked her ass in front of Roderick. With one smooth motion, she dropped back down to bounce for two booty pops while her head whipped back to look at the man she entertained. Next, she kneeled down on the stage. With her hands on the floor, she crept to extend her upper body forward, while she kept her ass in the air. When her elbows touched the floor, she rolled onto her back. Her knees up, she raised her feet off the ground, snapping her legs apart as she extended them. With a quick move, she slapped her inner thighs with her hands; she slid them down to her pleasing lady parts.

Santana moved her feet back on the floor. She hit the floor with her palms as she raised her hips up. With a fluid motion, she raised her arms above her head. Again she lowered her hips to the floor while her hands moved back to rest on her bikini waxed mons pubis. Again she raised and rolled her hips in a suggestive motion, running her hands to her breasts, then turned over to her side. She shifted back onto her hands and knees. Santana gazed at Roderick as her tongue wetted her lips. The act of a feral, untamed animal ready to pounce on her prey. She gave a subtle wink as she rose from the floor to stand. Her lean, toned body swayed in erotic rolls, thrusts, and shimmies that enticed the young man's senses.

Roderick took Santana's hand when offered. She led him back to the chair, hands-on shoulders she pushed into back into the chair. She performed another sassy, sexy dance filled with body rolls, shimmies, and twerks in front of him. Roderick raised his hands to touch her, then thought better of it. His fingers stretched out to roll into fists that rested on his lap. Santana finished with another drop to the floor and booty pop as the music ended.

Roderick removed his glasses. He used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Brittany came from behind the camera hugging her wife to squeal, "That was the best performance ever."

Artie pulled at his polo shirt, "Yeah, I need a cold shower."

Franco let out the deep breath he held, "Same here."

Cam his phone to his ear, "Hey Olivia, it's me. I don't suppose I could come over right now?"

Blaine took the bowl of popcorn from Kurt's lap. "I know it's only Tuesday, and we both have an early class tomorrow, but do you want to go home?"

Kurt stood from the sofa, "Right behind you, boo."

Jesse slapped the arm of the sofa, "I hate to be rude, but you all need to go."

Kitty glanced over at Roderick. "Let me guess you need a cold shower too?"

"Are you kidding? I've been taking cold showers all week."

Elliott pulled his billfold from his pocket, he removed five twenty-dollar bills handing both to Santana, "Well deserved."

Lennon leaned over to Dani. "When you two dated, did she dance for you?"

"That's for me to know. And you never to find out."

Jon nudged Roderick's shoulder. "Dude, can I get a copy of that video?"

Brittany walked over to the DVD player. She bent down to push the eject button, "He can't. Cos he doesn't have one. That's mine to share." From her pocket, she drew out a penknife, using it to make scratches across each side of the shiny disc.

Rachel looked around at her friends with a huff. "Doesn't anyone want to hear my comments?"

Santana glance over to Artie with a wink and a nod before she mouthed, 'you're welcome.'

Notes:

The lap dance is an attempt to combined some Naya's Glee numbers with a scene or two from Step Up Highwater.

Any song title I have in the story, you could Google to find at least one song with the same title. Just the way it is. Use my suggested message, or rhythm or style, to choose your own song. If it is one that Adam, Demi, Naya, or Noah recorded, well, all the better.