Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or it's characters or the concept for X-Factor. Just borrowing!
Brittany's POV
"You should have seen it, Lord T…cleanest no handed cart wheel aerial inversion I have ever landed. Even Rachel was impressed. The judges commented on my dancing specifically" I tell my cat who I Skype with whenever I am not at home for a while. I look up to see Lord Tubbington pawing at the camera. A knock comes at my hotel door, "I gotta go Lord T, it's time to celebrate with the gang. Give mom and Aubrey a hug for me, and please start wearing the patches again. I know the tabby down the street thinks smoking is cool, but it's really negatively effecting you clogging career." You close your computer and run over to the door. When you look out the peephole, all you see is the top of someone's head.
You throw the door open "Hey, Artie!"
"Britt are you almost ready to roll?" Artie asks as he pushes himself into the hotel room, which you are sharing with Tina, as he gestures pointedly at his wheels. You take note of Artie's outfit. He has grown out of his over sized sweater vests, and ill-fitting dockers. Instead, he is wearing a denim button down, pair with designer jeans and decked out Nike sneakers. He still wore his adorable glasses and dorky smile. Artie has actually done surprisingly well in the dating market. He has a certain endearing quality to him that allows girls to see past the chair and see into the person.
You give your friend an exaggerated eye roll accompanied with a punch. "Artie, that joke barely worked on me sophomore year of high school, and I was trying to sleep with you!"
"Can't kill a guy for trying" Artie laughs, "You were amazing today, I haven't seen you dance with that much passion in so long…well ever since, you know."
You glance up at Artie with narrowed eyes, "Artie, please don't."
"Sorry, Britt. It's like you got some last minute inspiration or something."
You smile shyly and knowingly as you put the last touches on your makeup in the bathroom mirror, "Thanks, I guess I just felt, I don't know, extra unicorn tonight." But in reality she did know why she danced differently. All she thought about as she danced was the mystery girl from The Troubletones, she thought of deep chocolate eyes like Hershey kisses, smooth, raven hair, soft caramel skin and luscious, pouty, kissable lips.
"…Tonight should be awesome" Artie calls out, interrupting your daydream or day fantasy, "It's crazy that the producers are opening a tab for all the advancing teams. They clearly have never seen Puckerman drink or they would rethink that decision."
You laugh as you walk out of the bathroom to grab your phone and ID. Your senior year of high school, Puck invented a drinking game to get through watching the Oscars at Rachel Berry's house. The rule was anytime Rachel insinuated she was more talented than the person receiving the award, you drank. By the end of the night the only alcohol left in the house was cough syrup, which Puck was not so much drinking as letting slowly pour down his chin as he wavered in and out of sleep. You adjust the hem of your jeans, as you throw on your booties "All I know is I am interested in meeting those Troubletone girls. They are smoking hot." Artie continues. Your head pops up. Mystery girl was in The Troubletones.
"What do you know about them?" you ask him as you throw a leather jacket on over your white sheer tank top and make your way out of the room.
Artie looks up at you and shrugs "Not too much. I mean they dominated the show choir world when we were in high school. Rumor has it their two front ladies, Mercedes Jones and Santana Lopez, have been offered a ton of recording deals as solo artists, but they want to remain a group. Rachel knows everything about them…"
Santana. That must be the mystery girl's name. Santana. You don't think you have ever heard such a perfect combination of syllables. You picture the Latina again: imagine her smiling at you, singing to you, dancing with you. Your eyes must have glazed over because the next thing you know Artie is tugging at your hand, "You okay there, B? You have the same look on your face you got when Mrs. Hapsburg tried to explain the difference between an egg with an egg in it and an egg with a baby chicken in it."
You shake your head. You don't even know the first thing about this girl, let alone if she loves the finer qualities of some lady loving. You just have been so caught up with rehearsals and nailing this audition. You're distracted. You just need to snap out it and let out some of this pent up energy, "Sorry, I am fine. Just ready to have some fun!"
You take the back of Artie's chair and guide him towards the bar, "Damn straight, Pierce. Let's tear this place up Lima style!"
You lean over the bar and bat your eyelashes at the bartender. He ogles you as he takes your order. You spin back to Artie and hand him a shot of tequila. "Girls or guys, you definitely got game, Britt."
You wink at him and raise your glass "A warm up shot before the rest of the team gets down here, to a great night with great friends. To this amazing experience, to getting to do it with your best friends, and having no regrets."
"Amen, sister."
Santana's POV
You and the rest of the Troubletones has been sitting at a back booth of the hotel bar for 30 minutes or so, waiting for the other qualifying teams to show up. After the show, you and Mercedes were ushered into the media room for a few interviews, while the team was briefed on the confidentiality clause in the contract for the show. Since these episodes wouldn't be aired for 3 months until the show went live, you were under strict lock and key. Of course, Santana Lopez was way too bad ass for that. There was only one person you really wanted to share this with anyways.
You stare off in space and think about the one text you sent earlier, hoping and praying for a response. You knew there was little chance of that happening, ever since that night senior year.
FLASHBACK
You pulled her up the stairs, fighting to keep your hands and your mouth to yourself. Giggling, drunk and horny you open the door into your room, fingers entwined with the red headed cheerleader's, the most recent subject of your latest desires. You were always so careful when it came to you lady conquests – always in the car or school, never at home, never in public.
You ran your hands over the girl's body, removing her barely there tank top while attaching your mouth to hers, when all of a sudden your door bursts open.
"SANTANITA! Ah dios mio, lo siento, lo siento.." your mother stumbles out as she runs from the room.
"Fuck" you breathe, and push the red head off you, throw her shirt at her and stalk out of the room after your mother.
You approach the kitchen, where you hear your mother puttering around. You run a hand through your hair. You can do this, you think, "Mami?" you ask, voice broken and cracking. She jumps "Lo siento, can we talk?"
"Of course, miia. I am just making some tea. Sit, sit." She motions for you to the stool at the kitchen island. "Mija, before you say anything. It's okay. I've known. I've known for a while. I am just a bit shocked. Boy or girl, catching you in the that particular positions adds some years to my live. We love you Nita, we will always love you. I wish you didn't think you had to hide such an important part of yourself from our family. Have we ever taught you to be ashamed of who you are?" You shake your head slowly, as tears begin to well in your eyes. "Of course not, mija!" She grabs you hand, "We are Lopezes, we are strong and proud. I want you to be proud, mija. You can tell me anything."
"Gracias, mami." You mumble out as you look up at her, "I'm gay, mami."
"Well, I think I figured that one out, Nita. Now who is that girl? Do you love her? Do we need to have the talk?"
"Ah, mami, no stop it. She is just some girl. I am still waiting for the right one. But, Mami, there is something else." You felt like this was the right moment to finally open up to your mother about your true passions. "Mami, I don't want to go to Stanford like you and Papi. I don't want to be a doctor. I want to sing, Mami. My glee club? You know The Troubletones? Well, Mami, we are good, really good. I am good, Mami. I have all these messages from producers and agents…they think I am special, that I could be someone huge in the music business."
Your mother bears into you with steely, dark brown eyes. All the love and comfort from a few seconds ago has vanished "Santanita, those are childish wishes. Singing isn't a practical career, singing isn't a stable career. You know how many young girls have wishes of being big time singers? Too many. I didn't raise a fool. No, you will take the scholarship to Stanford and you will become a doctor, just like your father. No child of mine will spend her time singing in seedy bars, hoping for big break. These producers jsut want to whore you out as some kind of bimbo to make a buck. You will be dancing on a pole before you are dancing on a stage. Don't be ridiculous. You aren't good enough for that, you have an opportunity to do something with your life. Don't waste it on some stupid dream."
"Mami, you don't understand. This is all I want to do."
"Then do it on your own." She snaps back at you, as she stomps out of the kitchen.
End Flashback….
You stare at your phone hoping it lights up. Any recognition would do, any affirmation. But you realize all the hoping is for naught. She doesn't care. You don't matter anymore. No matter how successful you become in this business, it still won't be good enough. They can accept you for being a lesbian, but a singer? Never.
You haven't spoken to either of your parents since you pulled out of your driveway with Quinn after graduation to chase your dream. Even before graduation when you still lived at home, conversations were short and pointed. They did not come to anymore of your show choir competitions. They were not their to see you win MVP at nationals, and they barely stayed to watch you walk across the stage at the end of high school.
You down the rest of your martini, and check back into the conversation when all of sudden you hear your name being shouted.
"Oh my god, you're Santana Lopez. The Santana Lopez." You turn to look over you shoulder and see a small brunette looking back at you. She isn't horrible to look out. Though her bangs could use a trim, and the skirt and knee sock look is really lost on you.
"Yup, that's me" You stare back at her "And you are?"
"Rachel Barbra Berry. Yes that is Barbra after the great Barbra Streisand, as I am sure you have surmised. I am the lead singer and front lady for The New Directions. I am a huge fan. Your Amy Winehouse tribute medley at the 2012 National Show Choir competition is legendary. I have you youtube page bookmarked, and whenever I am in need of inspiration I watch some of your videos. I find it amazing that depth of arrangement you are able to master with only female voices. Now while I do believe your group misses the quality of vocal training that I myself have mastered, I do give you kudos for being able to mask your imperfections with showmanship and stage presence. Our craft is more than just singing, isn't it? My team was unfortunately unable to compete at Nationals because one of our members was in juvenile detention for attempting to steal a vending machine. But, we were at the 2013 competition. You may remember us? We were well known for our tribute to the great band Journey. My boyfriend Finn and I were honorable mentions for the on-stage chemistry award for our rendition of Faithfully." She beams up at you. You're surprised she isn't sweating. She just got out more words in 11 seconds then you had all evening.
"Hmm, I can't really recall. There were a lot of teams there, and to be honest, we were pretty focused on winning. A little too busy to focus on the set lists of other groups." The rest of your team giggles behind you, but as you look up you see that behind this strange creature of a girl is the blonde from backstage. She is looking at her the small brunette with fire in her eyes, when she notices you looking at her. The blonde immediately blushes, and looks down at her booties.
"Well anyways, The New Directions and I" the girl gestures to the group behind her, including the blonde beauty who seems to be very interested in the grain in the wood of the bar then seeing what her friend is up to, "are so pleased to be sharing the stage with you during the X-Factor live shows. We wish you the best of luck, and may the best team win." She offers her hand to you.
"Look, Rebecca, we don't need luck. We are trouble for any other group in this competition. It's in the name." You smirk, as Dani walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist.
"It's Rachel."
"Come on, Santana" she breathes in your ear, "Dance with me." Her lips graze the shell of your ear. Your eyes flash back up to the blonde, whose bright blue eyes are focused back on you. You can't read them. You feel like in the past 30 seconds the color has transformed from a clear, bright blue to a stormy, grey blue.
You grab a shot from the tray that Marley and Sugar have just brought to the table, and down it. You put the empty glass in the hobbit's outstretched hand. "It was nice to meet you."
Kitty wolf whistles at you and Dani as she yells "Here comes Trouble!"
You give one last look to the blonde, as Dani grabs your hand and pulls you towards the dance floor.
AN: Trying to get out more content for those of you following the story. I have the next two chapters basically written, and like I said before will try to write at least one chapter a week following that. This story is un-betaed so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy!
