Maria swore that she was dreaming. She was still wondering how she managed to keep her cool when she auditioned for Chicago, but she did, somehow. She felt like vomiting most of the time, and she nearly fell flat on her face during a particularly challenging dance step, but by some miracle, she lived. Apparently, she did something right, because she had gotten a callback.

For Roxie Hart.

The lead.

It was almost too good to be true. Could she, a mere freshman, actually snag the lead?

Turns out it actually was too good to be true. It was no coincidence that Allison Montero herself was auditioning for Roxie, as well. And, obviously, she got it instead. However, Maria noticed something odd when she was looking at the cast list. Once the excited crowd had dissolved away from the call board, Maria saw her name, not under 'Ensemble' but 'Understudy.'

She was the understudy for Roxie.

She was Allison's understudy.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Mama, I know I said that I wanted to be Roxie, but I really don't wanna work with Allison!"

Maria had aired her grievances to her mothers and sister during dinner. While both her parents were understanding, Bridget was the complete opposite.

"You go to a school full of people like you, you honestly thought you would be the lead?"

Bridget was… interesting, to say the least. Despite being merely twelve, Bridget was abrasive as sandpaper, and thought that reading books made her better than everyone else. It didn't, but thankfully, this was her worst quality. She had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. Bridget stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork, most likely pretending that the green vegetable was some great foe to be vanquished. Her frizzy blonde curls were gathered into a loose ponytail, leaving a few strands to hang in her face as she ate. Not in any particular mood to argue with her sister, Maria ignored her previous comment and continued,

"Allison's been so bossy and rude to all of the freshmen ever since we started school."

Bridget once again interjected. "This girl's a senior, right? So she's been there for three years. You've been there, like, three weeks." As Maria was going to respond, Bridget raised a finger, silently asking for her sister to not interrupt, as she was prone to doing. "Chill! You have four years to show everyone how awesome you are, it's not a race."

"And," Brittany paused from sipping her drink. "We are proud of you no matter what. You don't need to be the best at everything to make your mom and I proud, Songbird."

Maria was a born performer. Ever since she could walk and talk, she was dancing and singing. Music was always coursing through her veins, and there was a constant tune playing in her head. The nickname Songbird has come about from how vocal she was in her infancy. She never cried or screamed, she just vocalized. Dancing was her strong suit, but she had a beautiful voice, and she loved sharing it with anyone and everyone. However, she had been surrounded by love and support all her life, and she had never experienced anyone like Allison, who was just so…

Rude!

Feeling particularly indignant, Maria pushed her food around, rolling a piece of broccoli with her spoon. She knew that she was being naive, but it was so frustrating to have someone who was only a few years older treat her like a toddler having a fit.

"Mom?"

Santana, who had been quiet for most of dinner, looked up to face her daughter. She wore smart tortoiseshell glasses, a streak of gray in her black hair, and a raised brow. She smiled softly.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what I should do?"

"Well," Santana paused to sip her water. "Let's see. Do I have experience in being an understudy to possibly the worst person on Planet Earth?"

Brittany giggled, raising her hand to cover her mouth. Her wedding ring glistened.

Santana continued. "Okay, never mind. Two situations that aren't even remotely similar." She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, her face lit by warm light. "You could learn from this girl, but don't be a doormat. So, be courteous, but stand your ground if you need to. Okay?"

"I guess…"

"So!" Brittany completely changed the subject, as usual. "How's your first art project going?" She asked Bridget, who had a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"I-"

"Chew and swallow your food."

The younger girl huffed, and obeyed. "I was thinking of trying painting for a change. You know, get out of my shell?"

Maria snorted so hard that water nearly came out of her nose. After a minute or so of coughing, concerned doting mothers, and Bridget laughing at her expense, Maria teased, "Your entire wardrobe is already stained with charcoal, are you sure that paint is a good idea?"

"Shut up!"

"You'll look like you lost a fight with a unicorn!"

"I said shut it!"

"Girls!" For the first time that day, Santana raised her voice. "We're at the table, save the arguing for afterwards!"

More minutes of light arguing and scolding followed, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and cutlery. The windows in the dining room shone once every few seconds, with every car passing in front of their house. Sirens could be heard in the distance.

Maria's nightly routine was always very specific. It always followed directly after dinner, but before her homework check, while she sat at her cherry wood vanity.

Cleanser.

Moisturizer.

Hair mask.

Eye masks.

Cooling spray.

Done.

Maria grabbed her dollar store fan off of her dresser and began fanning herself dry. A loose thread of many kept attaching to her face, so she moved the fan further away. The green sequins reflected her bedroom light as it moved. Maria and Liz had gotten their fans on a whim while exploring, and even though they were close to falling apart, Maria kept the cheap tool nearby at all times.

Suddenly, water began to run somewhere outside of her room, so Maria carefully set her fan down to investigate. She set off down the upper hallway of their house and followed the sound, glancing at the photos decorating the walls.

Bridget's first baby photo.

Her first ballet recital.

Her parents' wedding day.

Oriental rugs decorated the pristine hardwood floors, beautifully woven with red and gold. They cushioned her feet, muffling her footsteps. Ornate lamps adorned the hall, cozy and softly lit. As Maria was about to turn the corner to investigate the upstairs bathroom, a long-haired tabby cat darted in front of her, tail pointed upwards. It made its way into Bridget's room.

Lord Tubbington III was named after a cat that Brittany had before Maria was born, who shared the house with two other cats, Misty and Picasso, both named by Maria and Bridget. Cat hair was a constant issue in the house.

At last, Maria reached her destination, and saw Santana brushing her teeth, already in crimson pajamas. She saw her daughter through the mirror, laughed, rinsed, and remarked,

"I should never have let your father introduce you to skincare."

"Why?" Maria glanced at herself in the mirror. "Is it working?"

Santana opened the medicine cabinet and put back her toothbrush. "I mean, yes." She turned to face Maria. "It is. But you don't need ten different products to feel good about yourself."

"Five, actually."

"My point remains."

"Well, it helps me settle down to go to sleep." Maria shrugged, causing hair to fall around her shoulders. She pushed it back, and readjusted her hairband. "And, I kinda like the way it makes me feel?"

Santana pursed her lips with the hint of a smile. "Well, if that's the case, then I guess I can get behind it."

A black hairbrush lay on the countertop. Santana picked it up and gestured for Maria to come closer. With almost no effort, she removed the headband from her daughter's hair.

"Hold this, sweetie." Santana handed the hairband to Maria and turned her around. Maria felt the bristles of the brush grazing her scalp. She closed her eyes.

"I brushed my hair a few minutes ago, you know." Maria could still see the bathroom light through her eyelids. The distinct smell of mint faintly hung in the air.

"I'm brushing it again, you didn't do it right."

Maria smiled fondly. She knew that Santana was lying, but she enjoyed having her mom play with her hair, so she wasn't complaining. That had been their thing since she was little.

Santana spoke softly. "You know, you're only fourteen."

"Yes, Mom, I know..?" Maria laughed.

"What I'm saying is that Mama and I aren't expecting you to hang the moon for us." Santana finished brushing Maria's hair and turned her back around to face her. "We will always love you and your sister the most, no matter what you two accomplish."

Maria's face grew warm as she looked at her feet. Santana took the headband from her and carefully pushed her daughter's hair back. "You make us proud just by being you."

"Mom…"

"No matter what you look like!" Santana then added, "Or what parts you get in school." She held Maria's face in her hands, and warmly kissed her forehead.

"You look like something's still bugging you, mi amor. What's up?"

"At dinner…" Maria cleared her throat. "When I was talking about Allison, you mentioned something about having an experience like that?"

Santana's demeanor went from loving to uncomfortable in record time. She squeezed her daughters face firmly, and answered,

"I did, when I was in college. But it's late! You have school tomorrow, Maria. Bed, c'mon!"

"Is it about Aunt Rachel?"

"Bed!"

Maria sighed, and reluctantly let it go. She made her way back to her room and began to settle down for the night. She threw herself onto her bed. However this would prove to be a mistake.

THUMP.

"My phone!"

Maria rushed to rescue her phone, praying the screen wasn't cracked. She inspected it, and no damage was found. As she sighed in relief, the screen lit up from her movement, displaying a barrage of texts from Lizzie.

Lizzie: Hey, you still awake?

Lizzie: I can text tomorrow if you want.

Lizzie: It's about student council elections.

Lizzie: It's too late to be texting you, I'm sorry.

Lizzie: I'll talk to you at school tomorrow.

Maria unlocked her phone with a loud cackle, and replied,

Maria: Can I call?

She set her phone down on her comforter, displacing the forest green fabric. She stared at Lizzie's icon on her phone, recalling the day that the photo had been taken.

It was a scalding summer day, just that past summer, and they had been taking a walk through Bay Ridge. The sun had been beating down on them all day, and there had been no clouds to be seen, so they tried to seek shade anywhere they could find. Just as the streetlights had come on, they had made their way back to Liz's street, the subway a mere three blocks away. The sunset had turned the sky an ethereal pink and orange, and the sounds of a raging block party could be heard a couple streets away.

Liz and Maria stood at the corner. They were both exhausted, sweaty, and thirsty. But suddenly, they exchanged a glance, and Lizzie burst into insane laughter, doubling over. There was no reason whatsoever, but her laughing was so infectious that Maria couldn't resist joining in. After a solid minute of desperately clutching their sides, Maria had managed to snap a photo of Liz in the midst of her unexplained joy, curls flying, glasses askew, and braces shining.

'A very merry Unbirthday to you!'

Recognizing Lizzie's ringtone immediately, Maria answered. "Who is this?"

"Very funny."

"Thank you!" She readjusted her pillows behind her, the soft fur caressing her fingertips.

Lizzie's voice sounded tired. "How was dinner?"

"It was good! We had broccoli and London broil."

"Cool!"

"So," Maria shifted to cross her legs. "Why do the elections compel you to call me at like, 9 PM?"

"Maria, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing."

"Relatable."

Lizzie giggled quietly. "Okay, okay, no jokes! I seriously have no clue what I should say, how to campaign, how to make posters or write inspiring speeches, I-"

"Slower, Lizzie, enunciate."

"Sorry!"

"It's okay!" It was becoming more and more clear to Maria that 'Sorry!' was Liz's catchphrase. "And, for the election, I can help you! We can talk about it tomorrow at school, and I can make posters with you!" Maria bounced on her bed. "It'll be fun!"

"Running for student council sounds way more scary than fun, but thank you?"

Maria could hear the slight tremble in her sister's voice. "Liz, are you okay?" She gripped her phone a bit tighter.

"...Yeah. I'm not doing great, but I'm fine, at least." Maria heard a sigh. "What if this is gonna turn out like last year? Everyone treated me like a pest."

"Lizzie, I'm sure that's not gonna happen."

"How, exactly? How are you so sure that no one will treat me like some fucked up freak!?" Lizzie's voice broke on the last syllable. Maria's heart began to ache.

"Listen, people at our new school aren't like that…"

"That's easy for you to say!"

"Lizzie!"

Liz was stammering at this point. "I'm-I'm sorry! That was so mean, I'm so sorry!" Maria heard a sniffle, then a quiet gasp. "No, I'm okay, Dad! I'm just talking to Maria about a project for Drama! We're going over a tragic monologue. Okay… goodnight! I love you!"

"Liz?" Maria's phone began to slip from her now clammy hand. She quickly readjusted it. "I didn't mean to sound like I didn't care about what you went through. And you weren't being mean, it was just talking without thinking."

"Um, listen, I think I have to go. My dad's gonna tell me to go to bed soon. I-I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

Maria slumped in her bed, falling to the side and nearly bumping her head into the wall. "Okay. I'll see you at school!" She paused. "Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"... I love you, too."