Santana is a narcissist as well as a 384-year-old witch in a young woman's body.
Sam, a clumsy barista, is able to stop time for ten seconds twice a day.
Self-absorbed Rachel is indestructible – in the truest sense of the word.
Kurt, a somewhat conceited fashion stylist, is bionic.
Sassy Mercedes is convinced she's some kind of demigoddess.
And that random group of five is supposed to save the world? Heaven forbid.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
"Gosh, human beings are so easy to manipulate."
Rex slumped down on the sofa of their tour bus, retrieved his pack of cigarettes, took out one of it and lit it.
"That's the reason why we came here, Rex", Taj, co-member of their band Brainwarp, pointed out.
Bodhi cocked his eyebrows, but stayed silent.
Deacon looked up from his iPad and smirked in the round. "Soon, we are going to rule this world."
"I hope so for you, or else, I'm out. Earth fucking sucks." Kaz, their only female member, rolled her eyes and opened their mini fridge to take out a can of beer. When she took a sip, she grimaced. "That's the worst beer I have ever drunk."
"Told you not to try it." Rex stuck out his tongue and smiled when Kaz gave him the finger. "You wouldn't listen."
"Shut the fuck up, Rex. What is even your plan?"
Rex shrugged. "Continue with our tour. People around the world love Brainwarp ever since our first musicvideo went viral. Let's just make sure it won't change."
"Sounds about right." Taj solemnly lifted up his beer glass. "To our band's success and that people will kiss our feet soon."
"Cheers", Deacon said with a perfidious smirk and clinked his coke can against his friend's glass, Rex, Bodhi, and Kaz followed suit.
…
"Deacon is so hot", a blonde gushed when she and her two girlfriends stared at the cover of a J-14 issue in awe. This time, the five attractive members of Brainwarp were featured – not that Rachel Berry cared. She really had better things to do than to care about the five hottest celebrities of the states - Rex, Deacon, Taj, Kaz, and Bodhi – and four of them were male and single. Why she knew that? Well, Brainwarp was the number one topic of everyone's conversation, unfortunately. Actually, she didn't even listen to their kind of music – superficial pop songs were not good enough for her. The one and only singer for her was Barbra Streisand, of course.
Annoyed, Rachel went past those superficial teenagers in Walmart, wondering whether she had acted like that in highschool as well. When she checked her list on her phone, she noticed that she still didn't put bananas into her cart. Bananas were essential for her diy face mask, because seriously, she would never let chemical products ruin her wholesome skin, or else, she would never make it big on Broadway.
Broadway…that was another long story. In the meantime, it's been two years since she graduated from college, NYADA, to be exact. It has been a stressful time, she barely even slept or ate to pass all her tests and do outstanding performances – until her dads found her in her apartment, all sleep deprived and moody. She was on the verge to a complete breakdown, so her dads told, no, ordered her to take a gap year after graduation, forget about Broadway and everything and just do what she wanted to do her entire life. Rachel followed orders – so far, she had been travelling to exotic places with her parents, such as the Brazilian rainforest (that's another interesting story, but let's save it for another time), Death Valley in Nevada (too hot, though), and Cusco in Peru. A couple of days ago, she came back to New York again to enjoy some alone time. As nice as her dads were, they couldn't understand a young woman's needs, such as watching Breakfast at Tiffany's while painting her toenails and sipping on Mimosas.
To be honest, she was glad her dads had saved her from burning out in time. She had no idea that people on Broadway were such perfectionists, to an unhealthy extent. When she got the main part at Funny Girl back in her sophomore year, she had been blinded by their world so that she didn't see its flaws. The truth was that Broadway swallowed people that weren't strong enough just to spit them out afterwards. Impatient directors, stressful rehearsals, rude co-performers, energy-sapping dancing routines… that's what Broadway looked like most of the time. And of course, her spare time was nonexistent. Working on Broadway was a twenty-four seven job, she had never been able to take a break entirely. If she wasn't on stage to rehearse, she needed to memorize scripts or the lyrics of the songs.
It was just so exhausting.
Rachel sighed while she put a pack of water bottles into her cart. Broadway has been her dream, and now that she was so close to making it come true, she was…slightly disillusioned. She was about to roll her cart to the fruits when something caught her eye. It was a colorful scarf, and she kind of liked it. It went perfectly with that new dress of hers. With a smile, she went towards the garment to take it, but at the same time, someone else had touched it as well.
Surprised, Rachel looked up – and cocked her eyebrows in surprise. "Seriously?"
Kurt looked back coldly. "Let go of the scarf now, Berry. I was first."
"No, you weren't." She threw him a disdainful glance. "What are you even doing here in New York?"
…
That was indeed a good question because he had been in Lima for the past months. Kurt Hummel threw her a killing glance. "That's none of your business."
"I don't even care anyway", Rachel had the audacity to scoff at him. "What I care about is that scarf. Let go."
"No."
"Why do you even want it? It's clearly a women's scarf."
Well, she wasn't wrong. To be honest, Kurt didn't want to wear the scarf himself. In a couple of days, his stepmother would celebrate her birthday and he still searched for a present for her. But even if he told her, he knew that it wouldn't change Rachel Berry's mind. Rachel was the most self-absorbed person on this planet, she didn't care about anyone but herself -he needed to learn it the hard way a couple of years ago.
You see, Kurt knew Rachel since highschool. Back then as well as today, they weren't on the best terms with each other, probably because her eccentric manner and I'm better than anyone else -attitude made it hard to warm up with her. When she got into NYADA and he didn't, their paths went separate ways – or so they thought. Since he had enjoyed his internship at Vogue and always liked working with fashion, Kurt decided to apply for Pratt Institute to pursue a career in Fashion Styling and was ecstatic when he got in. That's also where he met Diego, an attractive sophomore from Buenos Aires who was majoring in Fashion Illustration. He and Kurt became fast friends – and soon, even more than that. They started dating one year later, and Kurt could not have been happier – until a crying Diego confessed to him he had been cheating on him, with a woman. Kurt didn't care that Diego was bisexual, but he did care that Diego has been sleeping with none other than Rachel freaking Berry.
They had broken up immediately. Kurt had been so heartbroken that he needed to take some time off and go back to Lima to cry his eyes out at home and wallow in self-pity. Ever since, he had been unable to trust anyone. And of course, he detested Rachel Berry more than he had before.
"Wasn't Diego enough? Do you also want to steal that scarf from me?"
"I'm not stealing it from you! You didn't even buy it yet!"
"That's not the point!"
Kurt glared at her, but then, he let go of the garment. "Do you know what? Take it, I don't care about it anymore. I'm better than to fight with someone as despicable as you. Go to hell where you belong, slut."
She gasped for air, but then, she snatched the scarf and put it into her cart. "Well, it was nice seeing you again - not. I hope it will be for the last time."
"So do I."
With her head held high, she left, and Kurt glared after her, seething. Some things would never change.
…
Drenched in sweat, Mercedes Jones sat up in her bed and tried to calm down again. Another weird dream that woke her up in the middle of the night. Maybe, it was time to go see her therapist again because these dreams were getting more frequent lately. Dreams of elegant women with golden crowns on their heads and white, long clothes. Dreams of strong female warriors in silver, shining armor.
Those dreams felt so…authentic, as if they had happened to her in the past. As if they were…memories. Yeah, not creepy at all.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fall asleep again, but to no avail. Frustrated, Mercedes groaned and got out of bed to get dressed. In the meantime, it was 06:03 in the morning, so she could as well get up. She really needed a coffee now.
After she had put on her favorite dress, her trenchcoat, and her heels, she left her ridiculously tiny apartment and headed to Starbucks at the Time Square, the only Starbucks in Manhattan that opened that early.
She only had two hours until she needed to be at her workplace, Silverstone Records. Her parents that both went to college were fine with her pursuing a career as a singer-songwriter, but only if she agreed to at least get a college degree they were more than willing to finance, just to be on the safe side. Even though she had a BFA in Music Performance from Juilliard now, she still hadn't been successful as a singer-songwriter so far. Her YouTube videos didn't get as many hits as expected, and she lacked the inspiration for good lyrics for her songs lately. Sadly, she somehow needed to pay the rent, that's why she accepted that job her old professor had gotten her.
And it was fine, really. But she was still disappointed, though. She thought she would make it as a star right after college, but unfortunately… Mercedes looked around in the coffeeshop. She was the first one today, she didn't even have to queue. After she had ordered her latte with a cinnamon cookie, she took a seat in the back. She retrieved her iPad from her purse to start writing a new song of hers.
But somehow, her fingers didn't want to move. Mercedes shook her head and sighed. Back then, writing songs was so much easier. She had been writing songs about anything, whether they were about her annoying teachers, math formulas she needed to memorize, her friend's first crush, her first crush, her graduation day…
Back then, life had been so easy, but she never appreciated it. With another sigh, she closed the notepad app, retrieved her headphones, and plugged them in to rewatch a couple of episodes of Seinfeld before she left for work.
…
Sam Evans watched his coworker Alisha serve that young black lady her cinnamon cookie. He normally didn't care about his costumers, but that girl has been coming to Starbucks everytime his shift started, which was quite early. The coffeeshop was crowded around seven in the morning before the students needed to go to school or college and the grownups went to work. At six am, the shop was rather empty. Who knew, maybe she was an early riser. Right now, she forlornly stared at her iPad, dark bags were under her eyes. Whether she had family issues? Whether she needed help?
When he had gathered all his courage to walk towards her, Alisha nudged him in the ribs. "We need new coffee cups. Can you please order them, I will take care of the costumers in the meanwhile."
"Sure thing." Sam retrieved his phone to call their wholesale market. After he was done, he looked over to where the girl had been sitting – but she was gone now. What a shame. Maybe, he would talk to her next time.
After his shift, Sam took his coat and put it on, and after having waved Alisha goodbye, he left Starbucks. As usual at four pm, the Time Square was pretty crowded, he needed to force his way through the crowd. Sam headed to the Subway Station to drive home to his apartment in Brooklyn.
With takeaway boxes of the Chinese Restaurant from around the corner, Sam unlocked the door to his place he shared with someone else. It was no spacious Disney castle, but it was nice. Even though his wage of Starbucks wasn't that bad, he had decided to save some money for his younger siblings. Other than him, they were pretty good students, so he made it his mission to make sure they would go to college one day. That's why he financed their college funds with one part of his wage even though his parents tried to talk him out of it. Sometimes, he wondered whether it had been a mistake to stop modelling. Yes, the working environment was toxic, the other models clearly had eating disorders, and the pressure to be perfect had gotten to him. He only stopped because he didn't want that job to destroy him. However, the pay had been more than excellent. Thanks to the money, he could help buy a small house for his family that barely scratched a living since his dad has unexpectedly lost his job when he was sixteen.
"There you are, dude." Bryson, his roommate, already waved with two cans of beer. "You almost missed the game."
"I brought us food." Sam held the boxes in the air, and Bryson's eyes lit up.
"Awesome. Come on, we are going to miss everything." He tugged the blonde to their TV and slumped down on their sofa, Sam followed suit.
"Alright, who's in the lead?", he asked Bryson and leaned back to relax.
…
She was hot as hell. She was the baddest bitch in town. She could do this.
Santana Lopez leaned back her head and downed her seventh Whiskey shot. People around her in the bar cheered loudly.
"She did it!"
"Damn, gurl, what is your liver made of? Steel?"
"You got that damn straight." Santana got up from her bar stool, already used to the dizzy feeling in her head whenever she drank lots of shots. With a smirk, she turned to a blonde with green streaks in her hair. "Remember, you lost a bet." She even managed to not slur now.
The blonde looked at her with desire. "I didn't forget."
Perfect, everything went just as planned. Santana leaned to the blonde's ear and whispered: "Why don't we leave that lame bar?"
Of course, her future hookup took the bait – and the best part was that she wasn't even queer. She was just another straight woman that longed for a lesbian experience. And as long as Santana could hump her, she didn't care what she was.
Hands intertwined; they left the bar. Ten minutes later, they were making out in the backseat of her car. Fifteen minutes later, they were naked. And twenty minutes later, both of them were satisfied.
Santana always loved doing it the quick way. Quick and easy. The blonde whose name she couldn't remember was sighing happily into her shoulder. "I guess now's the right timing to tell you I'm married with two kids", blondie muttered.
She was surprised when the Latina laughed loudly. "Darling", Santana chuckled. "I already knew you were as straight as an arrow."
"And you still wanted me?"
"I mean, who could resist that wholesome ass?" Santana spanked her butt, and the blonde let out a quiet moan. "Of course, I wanted you. I still do."
The blonde was looking at her dreamily, and Santana didn't even regret she was using that chick for her own needs. What could she say, she was such a playgirl. She knew exactly how to make the women swoon. She knew exactly what to tell them to make them do whatever she wanted. Manipulating women into having sex with her was her area of expertise.
"What do you say, blondie?" Santana turned to her and smirked. "You in for round two?"
"Sounds awesome."
Whether Santana felt bad because she humped a straight wife that also was a mother? Not at all. Whether that made her a bitch? Totally.
This was just the introduction, things will get more interesting next time.
Thanks for reading and stay tuned ...