A/N: Apologies for the extensive wait. Life, blah, blah…
BUT! Happy birthday to me! And my birthday gift to you is an update on all three stories :)
You guys are amazing :D
Ok, so a reviewer mentioned that I said in my A/N a few chapters ago that Rachel wasn't going to get hurt. I apologise for this. It wasn't my intention for her to get hurt, originally. I hope that the way things progress will earn your forgiveness for that misleading statement…
Also, I don't condone cheating. Ever. Under any circumstances. For the purpose of this story, however, it was necessary.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee :(
CHAPTER 20
Everything was so not ok. Not even close to ok.
Brittany was sitting on the floor of the locker room, trying to catch her breath after walking in on something she really, really hadn't wanted to see.
At least not again.
Quinn held a tight grip on Santana's arm to prevent anymore aimless wandering. Once Glee had finished, Quinn had made the mistake of going to the bathroom and leaving her best friend – her high best friend – unattended. She'd spent the better part of twenty minutes searching the school for her before she'd found her in the gym analysing the back of the fold-back bleachers. She didn't even attempt to understand Santana's reasoning either. Something about goblins.
"Where we gooooing?" Santana sang.
"You stink of weed and smoke. Your mother will skin both of us alive if you go home smelling the way you do. You're going to take a shower before we leave."
"A shower?" Santana asked excitedly. "Like with water?"
How has she not come down yet? It's been like two hours!
"That is the general idea," Quinn replied dryly. Santana's…condition had quickly lost its humourous appeal after she'd interrupted Ms. S for the tenth time and then not said anything.
"We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful of wizard of McKinley High Schooool," Santana sang, her voice echoing down the hall.
Quinn rolled her eyes and pushed the locker doors open.
"Quinnie, you're not gonna shower with me, are you?" Santana asked, sounding very serious and a lot like her old self. "Cos that'd be super weird."
The blonde sighed and turned around. "I will be standing at these doors, San. You can change into your gym clothes, ok?"
"Where are they?" she asked innocently.
Quinn quickly walked to Santana's locker and spun the dial, unlocking it and pulling her shirt and shorts out.
"How'd you do that?" Santana whispered in awe. "Are you omnipotent?"
She's high but she can still remember crazy words that no one else can.
"Santana, seriously, it's not cute anymore. Just go and shower, ok? You're not a child and I'm done treating you like one."
The haziness in Santana's eyes disappeared a little and her gaze became a lot clearer as a glare was focused right on Quinn. She swallowed. The Lopez glare was not pleasant to be on the receiving end of.
Santana grabbed a towel out of her locker and pulled her hoodie off roughly.
"Excuse me for wanting to momentarily escape the shithole that is my reality. Thanks for you unwavering support as always, Fabray."
Quinn closed her eyes as Santana slammed her locker closed, the loud noise echoing around the empty locker room. Santana only called her by her last name when she was really pissed. She'd have some apologies to make once Santana was finished with her shower.
She really wished that she could just wish away the constant pain in her chest. She hated how quickly Quinn's comment had killed her high. For two hours she had just allowed the effect of the weed to completely take over. For a control freak like her, relinquishing that kind of power over herself had required a lot of soul searching.
She didn't regret it, not in the least. She barely remembered seeing Rachel or Brittany in Glee and that in itself was an accomplishment. She briefly contemplated meeting Blaine at his ratty old couch every morning. If she could kind of glide through school not noticing the two of them, maybe she could survive the giant cesspool that her life had become.
She hated what she'd done. She hated who she'd become. She'd done the one thing she's sworn never to do. And she'd done it to a girl that was actually pretty fucking amazing.
Santana turned on the water in the farthest stall and waited a few seconds for it to get warm so that she could adjust the temperature. She walked back to the closest bench and undressed, partly agreeing that her clothes really did stink. She was grateful that she'd decided to go with her contacts that morning. She hadn't wanted to deal with foggy glasses or any of that shit because of her uncontrollable bouts of crying.
Crap. Shampoo.
She wrapped her towel around herself and walked back to her locker, opening it and grabbing her shampoo, before closing it again. She got to the bench and dropped the towel before walking back towards the shower.
Her high wasn't completely gone because the water droplets bouncing on her skin felt pretty fucking amazing and she closed her eyes, just letting herself get lost in the sensation of that high. Well, what was left of it. She lazily washed her hair, lathering the shampoo deep into her scalp, and rinsing it out a lot longer than she probably needed to. She didn't know how long she spent in the shower – a lot longer than she normally did – but the water was just starting to decrease in temperature when she shut it off. She squeezed excess water out of her hair and walked slowly back to the bench, making sure that her thick hair was probably rinsed. If she left any unnecessary moisture in it, she'd look like Diana Ross in about an hour.
Maybe a slight exaggeration, but whatever. It wasn't pretty, even if she was only going home. She reached the bench, bending down slightly for a hair band and standing up straight to tie her hair when she heard a gasp.
She looked up and saw the one person she really didn't want to, gaping at her, her blue eyes trailing up and down her naked body.
"Can I help you?" Santana snapped, pulling the hair band roughly around a messy ponytail.
Brittany's eyes shot up to her face and she just stared before turning and disappearing behind a row of lockers.
"Whatever," Santana muttered. Brittany Pierce was a bitch and there was no way in hell that anything would change her mind about that.
Oh my God.
That...wow.
Her legs.
Her abs.
Her...hmmm...
Oh my God, her boobs. They were so...
Brittany shook her head violently from the images swimming in her brain. Flashbacks of their first kiss in the sauna, of their moment in the hospital, of seeing her come in her guest bedroom, her dreams, and of course when she'd given her the best orgasm she'd ever had.
Oh, no, Brittany groaned inwardly.
This was not how things were supposed to go! She was over Santana! She was done with whatever stupid, inexplicable infatuation she'd had with her. She was done. She was straight. Completely and utterly straight.
Brittany tried to control her breathing, but the same visions entered her head unbidden and she felt a familiar ache in her gut.
"Fuck," she whispered, very aware that she was still in the locker room and a very pissed off, very naked Santana was probably still a few rows down.
She'd been fine earlier. They'd been fine earlier. Everyone and everything had been fucking fine earlier. Why did she have to be showering when Brittany was supposed to be doing inventory for Coach Em?
Fucking OCD psycho cow. You've completely ruined me.
She sort of realised how silly it was for her to blame her coach for her thoughts and urges, but at that stage, Brittany was ready to lay blame to anyone and everyone but herself.
It's not my fault! She...she didn't even try to hide herself!
Brittany angled her head thoughtfully. It wasn't like she hadn't seen it before...twice... She'd run her hands over that caramel skin too...
Ugh! Stop it!
Brittany pushed herself up quietly. She needed to get this stupid inventory done and get home. She desperately needed a distraction. She pulled her phone out from her bra and tapped away, heading for the Cheerios store room.
Finnocence... Miss me yet? House to myself tonight. I'll leave my door unlocked for you later if you're up for it... ;) xxxx Britt
She needed...something. She needed to forget. She needed to be straight again. Brittany was straight.
I'm straight. I like guys. I'm straight.
She kept repeating that like a mantra in her head until she got home and saw Finn's car in the driveway.
Rachel glanced up from her Science book at her Twitter feed open on her laptop. Her brow arched when she saw one of the newest tweets.
SantanaLopez Why can't I just feel like that all the time? It was easier than this...I just want to get lost in my mind...
A question that had been bugging Rachel all day popped back into her head.
Had Santana gotten high to deal with their break up?
She wasn't blind. She'd seen her before lunch. Hands shoved deep into one of her brother's hoodies that she loved, head low, walking quickly. Santana didn't have her normal pile of books in her arms and Rachel had been a little taken aback at how different she looked.
How sad she'd looked.
She shook her head.
No. Santana had clearly made her choice. She'd consciously been with someone else and nothing she could do or say would or could rectify that. Yeah, so Rachel had done her fair share of cheating, but she'd never even thought about it with Santana. Even when she was playing hard to get, Rachel really hadn't thought about relieving her sexual frustration elsewhere. They'd been together a full month before sleeping together. It was probably the longest Rachel had gone without sex and she hadn't minded. Well, sure it had been difficult because Santana, as much as she'd fucked up, was still unbelievably hot.
Rachel sighed and dropped her eyes, hearing her phone beep on her desk. She picked it up to find a surprising text.
Hi. Just wanted to know how you're doing with everything? Quinn
Rachel stared at her phone for a few minutes, not entirely sure how to react. Quinn was Santana's best friend. Surely she should be on her side? Why was she texting Rachel?
She thought back to Friday, when they'd gone for coffee. Had Quinn purposefully talked to her because she knew that Santana was busy fucking some other girl? Rachel's rage spiked again. She was Rachel Berry. People didn't fuck with her.
How do you think I'm doing?! I'm hurt. I don't even know who to trust anymore. Did Santana put you up to this?
Rachel exhaled deeply after realising that she'd been holding her breath all the while she'd been typing. She felt played. She felt taken advantage of. She felt like the biggest idiot in the world because she'd pictured a future with Santana. Like a long-term future. Maybe not forever, but she could see herself going to junior prom with her, or spending Thanksgiving and Christmas and Valentine's Day together.
Well, she did. Not anymore.
Her phone buzzed again.
Santana doesn't own me. She doesn't control what I do. I asked because I'm not on her side. What she did was shitty and I thought we were kind of friends. I guess I was mistaken. Anyway, I get that you're hurting and I just hope that you can work through this and come out stronger.
Well, now she felt like shit. She should've known that about Quinn. As close as she and Santana were, Rachel knew that they were their own people and not dependent on a shared thought. The two had their own opinions, often vastly different, and didn't have to be joined at the hip every second of the day. But she knew they were close. And she knew both of them were incredibly loyal – she'd seen Santana when she'd found out about Quinn's pregnancy and the miscarriage. She'd also seen Quinn when Santana and Brittany had fought and the aftermath of that.
Another alert popped up on her Twitter feed.
FiercePierce Now that's what I call a good distraction :) Feelings all kinds of good. Thanks FinnHud ;)
She rolled her eyes. Brittany and her penchant for fucking idiotic meatheads was astounding. She knew that her best friend didn't even like the guys she slept with.
Wait a second...
Rachel frowned as a ridiculous thought crossed her mind. She remembered how Brittany had looked at Santana that day in the choir room and how she'd found them in the hospital bathroom.
She also remembered how happy Brittany had been at the game on Friday.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at her best friend's handle. Then she burst out laughing.
"Yeah, right," she muttered. "Santana cheated on me with Brittany. That'll be the fucking day."
She picked up her phone and replied to Quinn, realising that she owed her an apology.
I'm sorry. That was out of line. I'm just...I don't know. I feel blindsided and my trust in general has been shaken. I hate that I miss her.
Rachel felt a tear run down her cheek. She hadn't even realised that they'd gathered in her eyes. Until she'd typed those words, she hadn't known how true they were. She did miss Santana. She missed seeing her, she missed holding her hand, she missed joking around with her, she missed their heated arguments that always led to seriously hot making out or, of late, seriously hot make up sex.
She sighed and put her phone back on her desk after sending the message to Quinn.
She may miss Santana, but that didn't stop her from hating her for breaking her trust and her heart.
"Afroboy!"
Blaine spun around, his eyes looking around suspiciously. "How do you know my super secret spy code name?"
Brittany rolled her eyes. "One too many blunts this morning?"
"What's too many than one?"
And people wonder why stoners are stupid.
"Just quit your yapping and follow me," Brittany snapped, glancing around. It was early enough that her talking to Blaine wasn't noticeable enough to cause mutterings around the school.
"Are we going to the moon?" Blaine asked excitedly.
"What? No, don't be an idiot. Just keep quiet and follow me."
She sighed in frustration and made her way to the couch that she knew the stoners frequented. A few of them were lounging around and their eyes widened when they saw Brittany approaching them. She arched an eyebrow and flicked a wrist for them to scatter. It took a lot longer than what she was used to, but soon she and Blaine were alone.
"Here's what I need you to do," Brittany began, but Blaine cut her off before she could continue.
"Is this a mission?" he asked excitedly.
"Uh, sure." Brittany frowned. This guy had definitely smoked one too many. "Look, Santana's been pretty sad and you're her friend, right?"
Blaine nodded enthusiastically.
"Ok, so your, uh...mission is to make sure she stays happy. I don't care how you do it. Just…just keep her smiling. Ok?"
She hated how her heart was hammering uncontrollably.
"Sure, Lady Cheerio. Santana's pretty when she smiles."
You can say that again.
What? No! Fuck.
"You know that I'm like your boss or whatever, right? Which means that you can't tell her that I asked you to do this."
Blaine nodded. "It's a mission. I mean, I'm a little out of practice. The great plummet of the inflatable ball market kinda botched my last mission and I haven't really felt the drive to take on another mission. But this…I can do this."
He gave her a grin and Brittany just arched her eyebrow at him.
"Whatever, Afroboy. As far as anyone in this school is concerned, you and I have never spoken."
Blaine touched his nose and winked. Brittany huffed and walked back across the football field quickly. She spotted her best friend and jogged after her.
"Slow that fat ass down, Berry," she called.
"What?" Rachel snapped.
Brittany narrowed her eyes. "I don't care if you crawled out from underneath your bed this morning, I haven't done anything to earn that kind of tone before the first bell."
The hell you haven't.
Fucking stupid voice.
Rachel's eyes softened. "Sorry, B. This…it's just harder than I thought it would be. I'm still angry, so fucking mad, but I…" Her voice trailed off and Brittany leaned in closer.
"Sorry, I dropped Mumble 101 back in middle school," she teased.
"I miss her," Rachel hissed, spinning on her heel and stalking inside the school.
Brittany sighed and followed, sensing that Rachel was definitely on her own mission. She hardly wanted to make things worse. Yesterday she'd been sorta fine, which meant that something had probably happened sometime last night or that morning.
Brittany rounded a corner and her shoulder clipped someone else's throwing her slightly off balance.
"Watch it, fucktard!" she snapped, drawing herself up to her full height.
Dark eyes behind cute black frames just glared back.
"Apologies, Your Highness," Santana snapped back. "I wasn't aware you owned the entire fucking school."
Brittany felt the familiar stirrings of a challenge. She smirked. "You didn't get the memo, Lopez? I'll make sure to draw it in Magic Marker for you."
Santana just shook her head. "Disillusioned airhead," she heard the Latina mutter as she turned away.
"What did you fucking call me?" Brittany grabbed her arm tightly and jerked her against the lockers.
The sound reverberated down the hall and those present started crowding around to witness what they probably hoped would be the Brittany/Santana Smackdown Revisited.
"Allow me to enunciate so that your pea-sized brain can compute this," Santana said clearly, disdain and sarcasm dripping from her tone. "You are a disillusioned airhead. You still have this warped sense of how the world works and-"
"Oh, because everything should work according the Lopez Guide To The World, right?" Brittany cut in hotly, stepping closer to her, her anger spiking. "Who's the disillusioned one, Lezpez, huh? You couldn't even hold onto Rachel for more than a few weeks."
Uh oh.
She knew as soon as she'd said the words that she'd made a big mistake.
Santana's hands were on her chest and Brittany felt herself being pushed across the corridor and clenched her jaw as her back slammed against the lockers opposite Santana. The Latina was quickly in front of her, her fist connecting the locker right next to Brittany's face.
"Let's not forget why that happened, shall we, Britt?" Her voice was low, which the blonde was semi-thankful for. No one else could hear was they were saying unless they were standing right next to them and no one was about to get within ten feet of the two girls. "You know, you're riding coattails right now. I could be a selfish bitch and tell Rachel who I-"
"Why?" Brittany breathed, but her gaze was hard. "What purpose would that serve?"
"Other than letting your best friend know what a lying, cheating slut you are? Oh, not much else, actually." Santana stepped back and took a deep breath. "But I'm done being a coward. I fucked up. I accept that. And sooner or later, you'll have to own up to what you did."
Santana just shook her head and turned away from Brittany.
Crap! I can't let her walk away! It'll look like she's won.
She glanced around and saw Ms. S coming over.
Perfect.
She pushed herself off the lockers and shoved Santana hard, sending them both sprawling to the ground.
"Oh, you did not just fucking do that!" Santana spat, getting up a lot quicker than Brittany had anticipated and reached down to grab her high pony.
She winced and stumbled to her feet, but not before sending an open-handed slap across Santana's face. The sound silenced any and all chatter around them and the two girls just stared at each other.
Oooooh, shit.
"Bitch!" Santana yelled, yanking her by the hair into the lockers again.
"Hey, hey! Break it up!"
Thank God. Took you fucking long enough!
"Why is it that it's always you two?" Ms. S shouted, pushing Santana away from Brittany.
"She started it!" Santana retorted.
"You didn't exactly walk away now did you, Santana?" Ms. S replied. "Go to my office now. Now, Santana," she added firmly when the Latina hesitated. Santana scowled and stalked off, the crowd wisely making a path for them.
"And as for you," Ms. S said, turning back to Brittany. "I'll let your coach deal with you."
"Whatever," Brittany replied, redoing her pony. Coach Em was hardly gonna reprimand her for taking a stand.
Right?
Wrong.
"Pierce, are you growing mushrooms in that head of yours?" Coach Em snapped, pacing behind her desk. "You're supposed to be playing nice with those stupid Glee Club losers, yet you take it upon yourself to deliberately antagonise them in any way possible. Especially that Lopez girl!"
"What was I supposed to do, Coach?" Brittany replied with a frown. "Am I expected to just let her walk all over me and show to the school that the Cheerios are pushovers?"
Coach Em sighed in exasperation. "Look, this needs to be contained. This better not blow up in our faces because you can't control yourself."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Brittany asked nervously, doing her best not to let it show in her voice.
"It means, Pierce, that you need to sort out this rage or whatever that you have. You can't go flying off the handle. Leave it for your bedroom antics and captaining the Cheerios. Outside of those activities, you are the picture perfect Head Cheerio. Got it?"
Brittany resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Picture perfect Head Cheerio. Seriously?
"Got it, Coach," she eventually muttered.
"Good. Get out."
Brittany closed the door demurely when all she wanted to do was slam it.
"Britt."
She glanced up and saw Rachel approaching her quickly.
"What the fuck happened?" she asked with furrowed brows.
"Just…the usual. It was stupid in hindsight." Brittany groaned in frustration. "She just fucking pushes all my buttons. Why can't she be normal and just leave us alone?"
Rachel sighed. "Look, we can't change what happened. But this…whatever between you and Santana has got to stop otherwise the shit's gonna hit the fan for all of us. Meet in the choir room at lunch, ok?"
"Why?"
"Just do it. You don't really have a choice in the matter."
"Jesus, I thought I was Head Cheerio," Brittany muttered. "Now there are fifty people telling me what I have to do."
"It's important, Britt."
Brittany looked at her best friend, who was looking decidedly stressed out herself.
"Fine," she agreed eventually. "I'm going to the locker room. I gotta just…walk or something."
Rachel nodded and squeezed her arm in comfort before walking away. Brittany sighed and headed for the locker room. Things had completely spiralled out of control that morning. She hadn't wanted things to get so…crazy.
"Back for more?"
Brittany stopped suddenly and turned to see Santana looking at her reflection in the mirror. She rolled her eyes.
Seriously? I can't catch a fucking break, can I?
Santana's eyes moved from her to examining the side of her face. Brittany inwardly grimaced as she remembered slapping her.
"Santana," she began.
"I don't want to talk to you," Santana interjected firmly. "If we never have to exchange words again, I'll be happy. I want absolutely nothing to do with you, Brittany."
"Fine, whatever. I just wanted to apologize."
Santana met her eyes again and stared incredulously. After everything, she couldn't actually be serious.
"You got a list hidden somewhere in there?" she quipped. "Cos I can think of a few things to add to it."
She saw the blonde shift uncomfortably and let her do so for a few seconds. Hell, after what she'd been through at Brittany's hand, she enjoyed seeing her squirm a little.
"Spit it out, Wonder Barbie. I don't have all day."
"Ok, look. What happened this morning…I…I was out of line. I shouldn't have slapped you."
"Ya think?"
"I just…you were walking away and people were gonna think that you'd won or something and I couldn't-"
"Hold up." Santana couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You slapped me because of your reputation?"
"I, uh…yeah, I guess," she finally mumbled.
"This is fucking priceless," Santana muttered, turning around and leaning against the sink so that she was facing Brittany. "Honestly, what is wrong with you? I know you're not actually that stupid, so please enlighten me as to why you seem to have these bouts of supreme idiocy?"
"Because I'm a Cheerio, ok?" Brittany burst out. "I'm a Cheerio."
Santana waited for more, but it didn't come. "And?" she prompted.
"And that's it." Brittany looked down at the floor, her shoe making patterns. "That's all I am."
Santana frowned. "That's bullshit, Brittany. And it's a fucking lame ass excuse for what you did."
"I know, ok! God, I feel bad. I'm here apologising, aren't I?"
Santana arched a brow. "Still waiting for the apology part."
Brittany took a breath. "I'm sorry for slapping you."
"Yeah, I'm sure the floor really appreciated that."
The blonde lifted her head and Santana hated how her skin prickled automatically as those crystal blue eyes met hers. She hated how, after everything, Brittany still had some inexplicable effect on her body. She ignored it.
"I'm sorry, Santana. The slap was uncalled for. I saw Ms. Sylvester coming so I figured she'd stop us soon. Obviously, I'd expected her to get there a lot sooner than she actually did."
"God, the way your reasoning works absolutely astounds me," Santana muttered, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head.
"Yeah, well, you're not the first person to tell me that either."
"Fine. I guess I can accept your apology for slapping me. But what about everything else?"
"Um, like what?" Brittany asked blankly.
Santana stared at her in disbelief. Well, semi-disbelief. Once again, she was actually astounded at how completely self-involved Brittany Pierce was.
"Unbelievable," she said to herself.
"What?" Brittany queried.
"Nothing. You know what, I guess I should take what I can get, seeing as how you're just completely fucking clueless."
Brittany looked genuinely hurt, but Santana didn't care. She walked past Brittany, but the blonde caught her arm.
"Wait."
"What? The last time you did this didn't end well for either of us, so how about you let me go and leave things as they are."
Brittany didn't drop her arm. "You didn't deserve that slap, Santana. I am sorry that I did it. I'd like to offer you a freebie."
"A freebie?" Santana tried really not to see the dirty side of that. "Can't say that's the best idea you've had, Barbie."
Brittany's eyes went wide. "Fuck! No! That's not what I meant. Jesus." She swallowed. "I meant a free slap. Cos, you know, I slapped you unnecessarily."
"So, you're offering me a free slap?"
The blonde nodded, finally releasing her arm.
"It's like I'm on How I Met Your Mother or something," Santana mumbled.
"I like that show," Brittany said quietly.
I feel like I'm in a twilight zone or something. This has got to be one of the most bizarre exchanges we've had and we've had way too many.
Brittany suddenly stepped back and closed her eyes. "Whenever you're ready, ok?"
Santana just stared at her. Brittany had actually been serious? Her left hand twitched. She really, really wanted to. Instead, she turned to the door and walked out of the locker room.
Santana frowned again as she reread the text message she'd received during second period from Quinn.
Choir room at lunch – no arguments.
"This better be fucking good, Fabray," she muttered to herself as she headed for the choir room.
Things had been strained between them since Quinn had bitched her out the previous day in the locker room. Santana wasn't a baby. She didn't need a fucking babysitter. She needed a best friend.
She rounded the last corner and eventually lifted her head as she neared the choir room, but she stopped dead in her tracks. Rachel was walking towards her. Her ex saw her and also stopped, looking uncomfortable. Santana's heart started hurting as she was suddenly reminded of what she'd done, of how she'd hurt Rachel, of how amazing the small cheerleader had been during their entire relationship.
As memories flew through her head unbound, Santana had to break their stare and lean against the wall next to her, sinking to the floor.
I can't do this. I can't be in Glee and see how much I've hurt her every single day. I just…I can't. She deserves more. She doesn't deserve to see me and be reminded of how she'd become a better person only to have it thrown back in her face.
Santana buried her face against her knees. She was actually breaking down in the fucking hallway of her high school. Way to keep control, Lopez.
She didn't care. Most people were in the cafeteria anyway.
"Um, Santana?"
The Latina just shook her head and ignored Rachel.
"Santana, just…"
"Why are you even talking to me?" Santana blurted out. "You should hate me."
"You're definitely not my favourite person right now, make no mistake," Rachel retorted. "But we're waiting for you in the choir room."
Santana lifted her head and squinted through her foggy glasses. "We?"
"Just…get up off the fucking floor, ok?" She saw the shape of Rachel move away.
It took her about five minutes to get over her crying fit and wipe her eyes so that she could actually see. She took a deep breath before walking the few steps into the choir room. As soon as she stepped inside, however, she wished she'd just stayed at home.
A/N: Haven't had a cliffhanger in a while…And now you guys are gonna hate me…
It is with a heavy heart that I conclude this chapter with the following:
I am taking another hiatus. This time, it's indefinite. I'm going cold turkey on fanfic (gonna be so difficult) to focus solely on my manuscript. I've mentioned this to a few reviewers already, but for the benefit of everyone, this is not something I'm doing lightly. I love writing fan fiction. More than finishing my manuscript at the moment. However, if I ever hope to achieve my dream of creating a career in writing, I need to focus on what will get me there – enter my manuscript.
I'm going cold turkey because it's too distracting to still read alerts and reviews because then I want to reply and I get ideas etc etc…this is what happened last time and that didn't last very long, did it? :/
Please accept my sincerest apologies, my dearest readers. Your support means the world to me and I promise that I will be back – you couldn't tear me away if you tried :) I just figure that without the distraction of Brittana (ugh, torture), my manuscript will get done quicker. And I have an incentive now too – to get back to you guys.
I'm uploading new chapters on all three fics at the same time to help ease into the hiatus.
Once again, I love you all and you mean the world to me. I'll see you soon!
*cue theme music*
Fade out…
Aaaaaand scene!
-H
PS: Twitter – HellsBells1313. Pretty sure I'll be updating any progress on there if you're interested :) Peace in the fandoms...