Quinn left work at five o'clock, as she usually did. She no longer worked in a law firm, but was happy with a less stressful job as a principal's assistant at a premier private elementary school in Austin. It was a school with its own security, discreet and trained people, full of children whose parents had pockets full of money. No one without authorization or identification entered that school. Quinn lived in an apartment complex near a middle-class neighborhood, five blocks from work, so she used her bicycle to get around, except on rainy days.
Six blocks north, past the apartment complex, in an upper-middle-class neighborhood, was Frances "Frannie" Nelson's home, whose maiden name was Fabray. The house was lovely, one-story, with a front porch and a small pool in the backyard. Frannie met her husband at University of Texas in Austin. The husband worked at the city hall, he had a good salary capable of contributing almost 60% of all family income. Frannie earned the remaining 40% of the family income as a legal advisor to the school board. Their salary was more than enough to keep their two young children in private schools, and to have a comfortable life, enough to keep a nice house and travel abroad.
Quinn arrived in Austin practically employed, only dependent on the formality of an interview, since she was an NYU graduate with stints at Yale. The acceptance letter for law school at the University of Texas was an ace up her sleeve to get hired. The starter's salary was modest, but enough to pay rent, pay taxes, eat and live reasonably comfortably as a single person.
As usual, Quinn took the bike and the drive to her place was less than ten minutes. She had in mind the routine of the last three months: getting home, making dinner, preparing the lunch box, taking the medicine, watching the soap opera, taking a shower, reading a little more from the current book until she went to sleep. Lonely little life.
When Quinn arrived at the entrance to the apartment complex, she was surprised, even if it was relatively expected, by none other than Santana Lopez. The vocalist was waiting for her, sitting on the stairs leading to the concierge.
"Hey." Santana timidly stood up.
"Hey." Quinn said in a more stern tone.
"I was on tour with my band and we're playing a gig here in Austin the day after tomorrow. As I had this day off, I decided to come talk to you."
"I don't remember leaving my address with you."
"Brittany gave me your address. She forgot to tell me which apartment, so I had to ask the doorman about you, and he refused to give me any answers. So I sat here and waited."
"You could have called me."
"You changed the number."
"Brittany has my new number."
"I know... but since you never gave me your new number, I was afraid to call and you'd say no."
Quinn sighed. She followed Santana's social media and knew full well that her ex-girlfriend, if she could even call her that, would be in town. She also figured Brittany would provide all the new contacts, which, in a way, was the main reason Quinn had talked to the dancer. Quinn only had a little hope of not running into Santana too soon.
"I'm not here to bother you." Santana reinforced. "I guess I just wanted to understand why you practically ran out of New York."
"Do you want to come in for a coffee?"
"Look, we can go to one of those diners nearby if you prefer."
"Santana, I'm inviting you for coffee. You may come in."
Santana nodded and followed Quinn to the side of the building where there was some sort of warehouse, with demarcations on the floor indicating the apartment numbers. Quinn put her bike on one of those demarcations. The apartment complex had three floors, and elevators even though the set had only three floors. But it made perfect sense given the number of elderly people who lived there. It was a place surrounded by a parking lot that served the residents, and was surrounded by a discreet green area with a tree here and there. Quinn's place was a ground floor apartment. When she opened the door, she revealed to Santana an apartment with a floor plan similar to the one the latina and Rachel lived in in New York: four rooms and two beds. Santana realized that most of the place was still unfurnished.
Quinn invited Santana to sit on the couch while she went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. Santana felt awkward, like an intruder, but it was too late to give up on the idea.
"How have you been these last three months?" Santana asked.
"Very good. And you?"
"I don't even know where to start… I quit my job to go on tour. I thought it would be the biggest mistake of my life, but it turned out to be the opposite."
"Seriously? What happened?"
"My band played good gigs, I made a little better money than my salary as a social media manager, I'm learning to play guitar, I'm writing songs like never before, I saw a ufo..."
"Oops!" Quinn interrupted her, and handed Santana the cup of coffee. "What were you smoking?"
"Nada. Amazingly, my band didn't experience any of those clichés of sex, drugs and rock'n'roll. Nothing but a joint here and there and a little booze after shows." Santana smiled, but Quinn still didn't seem to be in a spirit of camaraderie.
"Interesting." She just said, despite that she was lying. She thought that kind of life was silly and sometimes pointless.
"But I believe the most important change is that Rachel and I are now a couple."
Quinn took a deep breath. She closed her eyes momentarily and tried to compose herself.
"Well..." Quinn played the superior. "I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. In your case, it took too long. It was too obvious. But is that what you came here to do? Tell me the news? Announcing that you are marrying Rachel?"
"No." Santana managed not to be shaken by Quinn's cold tone. "I came here because I wanted an answer and, I don't know, a closure to our story. I wanted to understand why you ran out of New York to move to Texas, even with a good job and a letter of approval for law school. Wasn't it everything you wanted? To be one of those badass lawyers?"
Quinn glared at Santana, who wasn't really interested in the cup of coffee. Most importantly, she saw that Santana was being sincere, with her defenses down, waving the white flag of peace. Maybe Quinn should lower her own defenses too. Because one of the most important lessons she'd learned in the last few months was that closing herself in a protective shell in front of those who cared about her will only hurt her.
"I thought so, but I understood that New York was killing me, and I asked for help." Quinn was silent for a minute. Then she got up from the couch, walked around the room a little and looked at Santana. "What do you know about Borderline Syndrome?"
"Nothing… it's not heart disease, right? Because if it is, I'm sure my dad will kill me for forgetting this one." Santana lied. She knew what Borderline Syndrome was. While still at school, Santana researched a lot of mental and learning illnesses in an attempt to diagnose Brittany.
"Borderline syndrome is a mental disorder, Santana. One that can be confused with bipolarity. But the Borderline, when in crisis, has much more volatile behavior and mood swings than a bipolar person. I was diagnosed while still at Yale, when I was part of a volunteer group doing tests in psychiatric and psychological treatment. I did this for the extra credits. For six months I had this follow-up with a medical student, and he told me what my diagnosis was at the end of this experiment. He wanted to refer me to a specialist, who was one of his teachers, because I needed to take medication and go to therapy. I refused. I didn't want to believe it because I thought I was a normal person. In fact, my Borderline Syndrome is on a spectrum called the invisible, where people like me may seem normal, but in times of crisis they tend to be aggressive towards people close to them. These assaults can be both physical and verbal."
"Quinn... I didn't really know. I'm sorry I didn't notice to help you."
"No one knew but Frannie. The fact that I left Yale and transferred to NYU was a moment of impulse compounded by Borderline. I thought I was being smothered at Yale, that there was nothing wrong with me other than outside pressure and me getting involved with the wrong people, but this impulsiveness was largely the disease talking. I thought everything would get better in New York, but it didn't." Quinn returned to the seat next to Santana and hold her friend's hand. "After we fought that day, I called Frannie for help. I thought I would do something extreme. Frannie took the first flight to New York, and she took me to a psychiatrist. The doctor gave me medication, therapy, support groups... those things. But I thought it wouldn't be enough. I needed to treat myself, but I also needed family support. Frannie suggested I move to Austin to be close to her. She got me a job, helped me to find this place. Now I take prescription drugs, go to the psychologist and to support meetings once a week."
"Are you…really better?"
"Yes, I'm more balanced."
"I'm glad you reached out for help. That takes courage, Fabray."
"I'm also glad you're with Rachel and that you're finally fighting for your art."
Santana fell silent to absorb the information. She tried to recall from her memory everything that might indicate that Quinn had a more serious mental problem, in addition to the usual teen's stupidity and obsessions. Quinn insisted on having a failed relationship with Finn Hudson, even sacrificing a relatively stable and healthy relationship with Sam Evans. She lost her virginity to Puck in reaction to someone calling her fat. Santana remembered Quinn's rebellious phase, not because Quinn dyed her hair pink, got a tattoo and started smoking, but because she had a barely legal relationship with a 40-year-old guy. The very messy and abnormal relationship Quinn had with Santana in New York was an indicative.
"You know Quinn? You didn't have to go through this alone all this time. We could have helped, and supported you with the treatment. Instead, I spent nights and nights crying with hate for you. Because I really liked you, because I wanted to have a relationship with you, but you used me and then treated me like dirt."
"I am aware of it now. Even though I knew you belonged to someone else. That you and Rachel would be end game. It was either her, or it was Brittany. I wasn't in that race. I was so jealous of Rachel that I ended up doing to you what I did to Finn: I wanted to steal the people she loved."
"How did you know about me and Rachel?" Santana frowned.
"When I moved in with you and Rachel and Kurt that afternoon. That day when we were cleaning the apartment. At the end of the day, we started drinking beers to celebrate, so Rachel hugged you from behind and kissed your shoulder. You had an expression of peace, of serenity. You two were already so close, so comfortable with each other, that you didn't even realize how intimate that gesture was. That was just the first time I saw the complicity between you two. There were several other moments that revealed that you and Rachel loved each other. It was only a matter of time before one stopped being stubborn to admit the obvious."
"Are you really okay with this? Of me coming here and telling you I'm with Rachel?"
"As I told you, I knew it was only a matter of time. I really like you, Santana. I wanted a solid relationship with you. But the truth is, I could never really love someone in my condition without a proper treatment, without balance. My relationships have always been convenient for me, in a way. I liked the game. I liked you, I thought I loved you, but what attracted me the most was the feeling of having power over you. I liked the feeling of keeping you tied up with me, interested in me, and away from who you truly belonged to. I beg your pardon for that."
"I admit it's not easy to hear that" Santana wiped away a tear.
"I know you never really loved me. Not like you loved Brittany. Not like you love Rachel. You deserve to be happy, Santana. You deserve the healthy relationship I know you have with Rachel. It was an enviable relationship even before you two were together, I mean sexually together."
"You deserve to be happy too, Quinn."
"I know that. But I don't want anyone in my life right now. I'm still in recovery, trying to figure out my own mind. I need some time to myself, I need to balance myself and get strong before I get involved with someone else."
Santana nodded, leaned toward Quinn to hug her. Santana already had her answer. She knew the reason, and saw that it was legitimate. It wasn't for a good cause and the way Quinn left New York, that was very unlikely. But Santana was happy to hear the truth and was glad to see her friend fighting for herself. Santana broke the hug and wiped away the tear she had let slip at the moment of reconciliation.
"Well… like I told you, the band is playing a gig at SXSW. Kurt is in town and Rachel toured with us. If you want to show up, just call me." Santana took her cell phone and texted Quinn's cell. "See, just save my contact."
They hugged once more before Santana left Quinn's apartment feeling her friend's misfortune, but with a clear conscience.
...
Kurt, Elliott, Dani and Rachel were having dinner at a small, charming restaurant that served Italian food. Jordan didn't want to join the group because his girlfriend had arrived in town, and they were currently making up for lost time in a hotel room. Santana arrived at the restaurant when the group had already finished their meal. But it was okay. Santana greeted everyone in her own way, and reserved a discreet, respectful kiss on the lips for Rachel.
"Did you meet Quinn?" Rachel was anxious.
"Yes I did."
"Did she say why?"
"Yes… Quinn has a mental disorder, and she was in a crisis situation in New York. But she said she is being treated now. She's getting better."
"What mental disorder?" Kurt was curious.
"Borderline Syndrome."
"Oh." Elliott frowned.
"Do you know this syndrome?" Kurt was intrigued.
"So-so. There is a person in my family with this syndrome. A second cousin. If so, it couldn't have been easy for Quinn."
"Apparently it wasn't. But she is fine now, rebalancing herself. I invited her to come to our gig."
"Did she accept?"
"She didn't confirm anything. Either way, it's really nice to be able to move forward without having any strings attached or doubts." Santana glared at Rachel. "It was what we needed."
...
It was a 40 minute gig. No more and no less. The SXSW organization was very precise about locations and times. The festival took place in various parts of the city, with concerts, conferences, film screenings, all at the same time. Austin changed during the festival, hotels, restaurants and commerce in general benefited from the public that came from all over the country and also from outside the United States.
The previous day was hectic for the group, who did some interviews, and then each scheduled to attend other gigs and conferences. Rachel attended conferences on acting methods and the film business. Santana and Dani attended a lecture on the directions of pop music. Kurt and Elliot had other plans at the hotel, Jordan and his girlfriend went to a music management conference with some label reps. In the late afternoon, the group gathered to watch two gigs that took place in Cedar Street Courtyard, where they would perform the next day: by an indie band from New Mexico, and by an amazing Colombian singer. SXSW was even more than the group imagined. Obviously they saw videos on the internet, but being there, in that environment where musicality was wide open on every corner of the city's main avenues. And what about the crowd? There were people of all types and tribes walking around: new hippies, nerds, executives, young people with no style and others with too much style. All together and mixed. The four band members plus Rachel and Kurt were used to the diversity of New York, but none of them had ever experienced it. 6th street was an absurdly crazy and magical meeting point, as it was the stage for street artists, mainly. It had Japanese, Mexican, American artists, freaks and exhibitionist performers. It had everything.
Then came the big day. Dolores Kissed Me toured a part of the country in a motorhome, set up as performers at gigs in several cities along the way. They were the first band to perform in a four-act lineup for that day. They arrived at Cedar Street Courtyard with their credentials duly dressed. Without them, the band would lose a number of facilitators at SXSW. Even Rachel had a "rodie" pass, which gave her access to the venue's stage and dressing rooms. The drums were one for all attractions, except for the main one of the night, which wasn't officially announced, but there was a serious rumor that it was the Foo Fighters. Since Santana and Jordan saw Pat Smear hanging around, chances were the rumors were true.
Everyone in the band was extremely focused. They weren't distracted like the day before. After lunch, they went to the Cedar Street Courtyard and got organized with the festival's production. Kurt and Jordan's girlfriend didn't have access to many of the facilities as they lacked band and production credentials. But they had an orange wrist badge with them that indicated the press. After all, Kurt was a fashion reporter and Jordan's girlfriend worked at a company that provided public relations services. The gig was scheduled to start at five in the afternoon, and at nine would be the Foo Fighters gig, I mean, the surprise band would start.
The sound system and control tables were from the local organization, and everything would be divided between the attractions. As Dolores Kissed Me was the first attraction of the day, the soundcheck was quick and to the point. Then the instruments were unplugged, labeled and stored in a room on the site. The same was done for the young California-based female pop-punk band The Linda Lindas, and for the English blues-rock duo When Rivers Meet. Santana and Dani talked to members of The Linda Lindas. They were very nice, but that's how Santana commented later: have a famous music producer father can made it a lot easier, even to put on the market some girls who sang and play really bad. And yes, the four girls sang, including the drummer.
The conversation with the duo When Rivers Meet was completely different, because in addition to being adult musicians, in addition to being husband and wife, Grace Bond was a tremendous singer and Aaron Bond was a very good guitarist. Santana, Rachel, Elliot and Dani were smitten by Grace in the quick soundcheck. Then came the "men in black" to install the main band's instruments and do the soundcheck.
"You're too tense." Rachel walked up to her girlfriend in the dressing room. "I know you always get tense before going on stage, but you need to lighten up a little bitt, San."
"I feel like throwing up."
"Is this your first time at a large festival?" One of the girls from The Linda Lindas asked.
"We played at a festival in Ohio, but with this size and with this repercussion, it's the first time." Rachel replied.
"Imagine half the audience is so drunk that it doesn't matter. Either that, or you can smoke one."
"Of course." Santana replied with a certain indifference.
"Come here." Rachel pulled Santana into a kiss, which Santana returned in less than a second. "Better now?"
"It would be even better if there was a place here for us to be alone." Santana whispered in her girlfriend's ear, causing Rachel to giggle.
"After the show, we can get the keys to the motorhome..." Rachel kissed Santana once more. "Now you need to eat an apple and warm up your voice!"
"Yes ma'am."
The stage was ready for Dolores Kissed Me. The audience was already great at that time. It was a matter of counting down. Five minutes, and everyone left the dressing room. Four minutes and the presenter of the bands went to the stage to talk about the festival, the attractions and thank the sponsors. Two minutes and the presenter announced the band. One minute and the four of them went upstairs to the stage. Jordan had the collective drums, but set up for him, Santana was in the center of the stage, with Elliott on her right with guitar in hand and Dani on her left with bass. If they were going to start with rock, they played Go Straight right away to energize the crowd. Elliott released before the second song a high note worthy of making Ann Wilson jealous, and Dolores Kissed Me made the first of the setlist burning the most rock'n'roll songs of their own repertoire.
"Are you having fun?" Santana asked and received a shout of approval from the audience in response. "Nice. We are having a lot of fun here too." Another shout of approval from the audience. "I wanted to bring to the stage our first and only cameo. From Broadway, here it is the singer and actress Rachel Berry."
Rachel entered the stage to enthusiastic applause. Nobody knew her, apart from the band's followers, but the public was already in the hype with the band and anything they did would get approval. Although it's still raw, Rachel sang the song Santana made for her, with just a guitar and drum arrangement, with an improvisation by Elliott on guitar, based on a single rehearsal of the song done in Dallas. Rachel was the lead vocal and Santana did the backing vocals. When the song ended and the audience reacted positively, Rachel was thrilled with the opportunity to perform at one of the most important festivals in the United States. It was a start. She felt the urge to kiss Santana at the end, in front of the audience, but she resisted and kept everything professional.
After Rachel's participation, there was only room for two more songs. Elliott led the vocals of the only cover of the set list: Radio Ga Ga, in a more rudimentary version, but the audience participated with rhythmic applause in the chorus. Finally, for the apotheotic finale, Santana picked up the guitar and, this time, she didn't miss a chord.
...
The SXSW tour ended for Dolores Kissed Me. It was an unbelievable journey there. As soon as the gig ended, the instruments were immediately unplugged with the help of the production and they left the stage for other production guys to set up the drums for The Linda Lindas and plug in the californians' instruments. No glamour, all too rushed. Even Rachel was helping to load the instruments and put them in the cases.
"Jorge Delgado!" Santana was surprised to see the RCA director in the Cedar Street Courtyard garage, where the band's truck parked so the instruments could be put away. "What are you doing here?"
"Taking care of my investment and scaring away the vultures." He smiled. "You did very well up there. You made an above average gig."
"Does that mean the contract will be on the table when we go to Nashville?" Santana pressed.
"It means we are going to negotiate it."
"In a few days in Nashville, right?"
"Yes, I'll wait for you in Nashville."
Santana placed the guitar in the rental truck and turned to Rachel. They exchanged a kiss and returned to the concert hall hand in hand, after all, having fulfilled the obligation, they wanted to have a little more fun.
...
EPILOGUE (Two years later)
Santana woke up because of a ray of sunlight on her face. She grunted and turned to her side where her girlfriend was. Rachel was dead to the world. Her sleep was very heavy, but well deserved. The night before was a lot of work, after all Rachel debuted as a leading actress on a Broadway's play. After all, the adrenaline from the opening night was high, and Rachel had a one-year contract to fulfill. Santana had to put a lot of effort into the lovemaking session for Rachel to relax and sleep when they arrived home. Of course, Santana did the job with all the enthusiasm in the world.
Santana watched her girlfriend sleep peacefully. Sometimes she didn't believe the way there. There were numerous achievements both in personal and professional life. Santana kissed her girlfriend's cheek and stood up. She went to the bathroom, took a shower, and put on panties and a shirt twice her size, which was the kind of comfortable sleepwear she liked. She turned on the coffee machine, in the meantime she decided to make French toast, because she knew it was Rachel's favorite. As Santana was frying the buns, she heard movement coming from the room. Rachel had woken up. Santana continued to make breakfast and set the small table for two. Breakfast was simple, always minimalist, not least because Santana and Rachel didn't usually eat much in the mornings.
"Fin fan fun... I smell coffee." Rachel said as she entered the room, trying to do the best Jack and the Beanstalk's giant impersonation. She kissed her girlfriend and sat down at the table for coffee. "Hummm! My favorite."
"Of course. Special breakfast for my favorite Broadway star."
"Did people really enjoy the show?"
"Are you nuts? You got a standing ovation twice! And you still ask if it went well?"
"You never know."
"Don't be false modesty." Santana rolled her eyes. "What you want is for me to continue to play the laurels of victory on you."
"And you're grumpy." Rachel smiled. "At least you're my grumpy one."
"And you are pretentious."
Rachel took out her cell phone and checked her calendar.
"We have to go to the registry office today at three o'clock."
"Please..." Santana grumbled once more.
"Santana Maria Lopez!"
"What, Rachel? We're just going to sign a paper. You know I feel married to you since day one."
"You know I feel married too since day one. It's just that this paper will make our lives a little easier, including buying our apartment." It was a legal issue. With the marriage certificate, Rachel and Santana would be able to jointly finance the coveted five-room, two-bed apartment on Lenox Hill. It would also facilitate the adoption of a child who was planned for the future. "And you're going to Nashville on Monday, babe. This is the window we have."
"Marry without having the right to a honeymoon? Lame!"
"It's life." Rachel smiled. "You know I plan on having a wedding party when you get back from Nashville. A small one, just for our parents and close friends."
Dolores Kissed Me's second album was all pre-produced at the studio Jordan set up in Queens, where he bought his house. The band would spend just one month at RCA's Nashville studios, where they would also shoot a music video for the first single. The first album and the tour were very good for Dolores Kissed Me, leaving the four members in financial comfort. Santana insisted on planning not-too-long tours, where the group would be away from home for no more than three weeks. So they did the system: two weeks at home for every three weeks playing the gigs. This even avoided the natural wear and tear of the relationship between the band members. It worked really well for Jordan, who had a son during the first tour. Elliott and Kurt remained together, but they seemed to be allergic to the formal commitment of marriage. Dani remained single, but apparently she was involved with an older woman who was an artist.
Santana stayed in touch with Quinn. The friend never wanted to return to New York. Quinn treated herself, balanced herself and continued to work at the school in Austin. Santana visited her on the two occasions she came back to town on tour, and promised that she would always do it so when she was around. The open access agreement between Santana and Brittany never worked. But Brittany understood and also never stopped being Santana's best friend.
After lunch, Rachel and Santana got ready. They took a cab and drove to the New York's courthouse to sign the marriage license. They didn't invite anyone but Kurt, just because they needed at least one witness no marry in NY State. Rachel and Santana didn't tell anyone that this would be the day they would sign the wedding papers, and asked Kurt to be discreet about it. When Kurt without Elliott arrived, they entered the building and waited to be called by the officiant.
"Did you prepare the vows?" the officiant asked.
"No, because we're having a party afterwards." Rachel explained.
"But I wanted to say a few words, if you don't mind." Santana interrupted, holding Rachel's hand.
"San, we agreed..."
"Rachel, there's no one else here to enjoy the show. This guy over there is part of the furniture and let's pretend kurt is deaf. I want to say to you, the moment we sign this paper, is that this is not a resource to make our life easier as a couple. In fact, if it's signed by people who live in relationships without strong roots, without security of what they want to build together, that piece of paper becomes a torment, a monster. I'm going to sign this paper, it's not because we want to buy an apartment together and adopt a child in a few years, although I still want to have a child of my own. I'm going to sign this document because I know we have deep and strong roots. I know this from the way our story began, and from all the trials we went through along the way to get here. Rachel, we did quite a job! We learned to love and respect each other before starting to make that fun part. We build a common life on solid ground. We love each other, even in the moments when we are hating each other. And that's a big deal. We are big deal. I, Santana Maria Lopez, love you, Rachel Barbra Berry. I'm just grateful that you're in my life and I'm in yours. That's why I'm signing this paper."
Rachel's reaction was to cry from the emotion of hearing Santana's vows. Yes, her girlfriend was absolutely right: vows aren't just pretty words for a show in front of family and friends. Vows should be taken privately, without witnesses, as a pact between the couple, and that was nobody else's business. Rachel cried in Santana's arms and it took a few minutes to get herself under control. Kurt fixed a glass of water, in which Rachel thanked him and drank. Then she took a deep breath.
"Santana Maria Lopez... Broadway doesn't matter, a nice apartment doesn't matter, our successful careers don't matter if we're not together. You are that person who completes my life, and I know that I complete yours. We understood that no one changes the other... but that we evolve with the other. And that's what we are, that's the kind of relationship we build. I love you immensely, so much that this is exploding in my chest."
Santana went back to hugging Rachel until she calmed down a little more. Only then did the two take the papers and sign. Who knew that Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez would end the story married?