AN1: Apologies. Apologies. Apologies. My life got crazy and my writing took a back seat. I can promise one thing though, I am not abandoning my stories. They will all have a conclusion. I just can't promise how soon those conclusions will come. I hope you enjoy this new installment!
Disclaimer: I do not own any copyrighted material mentioned in this story. I am just borrowing!
Santana's POV
Mercedes stood at the white board in the Troubletones media room that was covered in song titles, artists, and albums. The TT's were once again coming together for their brainstorm session, gearing up for what could be their best week yet: Balladeers. For the past 30 minutes, each of the members spent some time at the board, adding ideas, editorializing others and ranking their favorites. Now the girls were sitting around catching up and debriefing before they spent time breaking down the board so to speak. Mercedes sat back down and immediately Sugar unleashed on her, asking questions about Sam.
"Does his mouth swallow yours when you make out? Like do his lips turn into suction cups and have a vice like grip on your face?" Sugar chirped. "Is his tongue uber big too, just so it takes up reasonable amount of space in his mouth?" "Does he go through a ton of chapstick? I imagine those puppies get dry. Luckily it's not too humid here in LA, or you would probably be begginf ro some mouth lubrication. Does he have more saliva than a normal person?"
Before Sugar could continue on her tirade, Quinn walked up behind the girl and slapped a hand over her mouth.
"Sorry" Sugar said through Quinn's hand, "Aspergers". Quinn wipes her hand on the back of Sugar's shirt before walking over to the whiteboard herself.
Mercedes sighed and shook her head, "Sugs, you can't just blame aspergers, that has already gotten hella old. But, girl, believe you me my man's mouth is perfectly proportioned and and perfectly pleasing." Mercedes proceeds to wave her hand in a motion that can only be likened to Mariah Carey getting down in the booth. You can't help but crack up watching Sugar fake vomit behind her hand.
"Well" Kitty jumps in, "your man's mouth might be perfectly pleasing, but my man's hands certainly know what a lady likes." She continued to make a rather lewd gesture with her fingers, one that you usually would have cheered for, but for some now it is unsettling.
Now it was your turn to fake wretch. Over the past weeks, you, Artie and Sam have developed a mutual liking of each other - you weren't quite ready to call it a friendship, especially with Sam because for some reason you just don't trust those lips and the way you catch him looking at Brittany sometimes. She claims it is a weird siamese twin thing they have going on and you're not sure you buy that. Nonetheless, the boys are your girls best friend so you have some kind of liking for them, which makes hearing Kitty and Cedes talk about the boys in such graphic details made you pretty uncomfortable. It certainly wasn't that sex made you uncomfortable, hell you were the most sexually active of all the Troubletones and you certainly weren't shy about sharing the details for your sexcapades. However, when it came to talking about Brittany's two best friends, who you have heard countless stories about gave you the heebies. It also didn't help that you know Brittany had been with Artie before, and if Sam's actions weren't obvious enough, you are pretty sure that Sam has always secretly hoped Brittany would reject the flannel closet and make super blond, super blue eyed babies with him.
As you continue to wretch with Sugar, a pillow flies and hits you in the face. You turn and see Quinn smirking at you, "I can't believe the sex goddess herself, Santana "Ms. Steal Your Girl Lopez", is getting uncomfortable by a sex talk." You can't help but giggle with you friends, though you try to keep an icy glare on Quinn.
"First of all, I am a changed woman now. I only got eyes for a one very beautiful blonde. And second of all, I am not uncomfortable talking about sex in general, Lady Q, however just thinking about any sexual act made by Wheels and Guppy is enough for even my most iron clad of stomachs to churn. Besides, we all know who the hottest couple in the competition is." You smirk before taking a drink of your coconut water. "It's me and Britt, by the way, if that wasn't so glaringly obvious."
"Speaking of hot couples…" a magazine falls in your lap and you look down to see you and Brittany embracing on the X-Factor stage with the caption 'Are these powerhouse performers now a power couple?' "Looks like the word is out on you and Britt." You eyes meet Marley who had given you the magazine. She wiggles her eyebrows, which in turn makes Dani fake wretch. Even though Dani seems to have moved on from the thought of you two ever being together, she can't drop the facade that she doesn't like Brittany.
You just shrug. It's not as if you and Britt were hiding anything. Hell,you tweeted about the relationship not two days ago. You were a bit worried about what the producers of the show would say. There weren't any explicit rules about two competitors dating, but it definitely was frowned upon, especially competitors from different teams. You can't help but smile as you flip to the cover story in the tabloid. You have to admit the journalist did a good job pulling up information about you and Brittany. Your tweet was pictured, as well as the photo of you and Brittany from Pink's with your young fans. There was even a few pics that must have been leaked from the X-Factor compound. You wonder if Brittany had seen this yet. You pull out a phone and snap a picture before texting her.
To Bumble x3: Looks like we are famous for more than our talents now [Image attached]
The team had gone back to discussing ideas for the show and also going over what went wrong and what went right last week.
"Look our mash-up was great, the judges reactions and the voting showed that, The New Directions were just a little bit better according to the voters." Quinn's opinion seemed to be what everyone else was thinking.
Dani scoffed, "They shouldn't be better than us. We are undoubtedly more talented than they are - our singers compared to their singers? It's no contest. The only person who can actually really sing on that team is Rachel." Dani's eyes immediately darted towards you, "um no offense, Santana."
Before you can reply your phone vibrates with a message,
From Bumble x3: Yay :o). Now I can show you off all over town! I've never been prouder to be with someone, Santana. XO.
You can't help the grin that breaks across your face. You look up from your phone and realize that the TTs are waiting for you to weigh in on the matter at hand. You take a deep breath and slide to the front of the room, in front of the white board,
"Dani is right" Dani gives a cocky smile to the room before you continue "But, Dani is also wrong." Confused eyes look up at you, and you take the eraser and erase every single thing on the board. Every idea, every ranking, every note that your team had made about the next show. Sugar starts to say something, but Mercedes holds her back. Your back is still turned to the board as you pick up the red marker in your left hand and write a single word on the board. Cocky.
"Are greatest folly this competition has been our cockiness. We know we are the best. We are certainly the most talented group here, that has been proven time and time again, but it also let's us become complacent. We know that our lines are tight enough, our arrangements are smooth and our voices are in tune. We have become too accustomed to winning. The New Directions had a pressure on them that we really haven't had, the thought of going home. They had to prove themselves, while we already have. America and the judges saw their ambition and their determination. They gave them something no one expected, so how we do we become unexpected? How do we raise our bar even higher?" You're met with intrigued silence, as once again you grab the eraser and pen to write another message on the board.
Humble and hungry.
"It's time we bring ourselves down. Realistically, we aren't any better than any other team here. In fact we are all the same, we may have different backgrounds a bunch of kids from small towns or big cities, from glee clubs or show choirs, from tight families and broken childhoods, we are all chasing one thing - our dream. We haven't won it yet, so we need to stop acting like it. We came in with a killer instinct and we need to get back there. Balladeers is our wheelhouse, we but must reinvent the wheel. The wheel has to faster. Every single team has a killer vocalist which is really all you need for a great ballad, so we need to figure out to yet again set ourselves apart and perform with a little sense of urgency. 50 percent of the teams are going home next week. No one is safe. We are guaranteed nothing." You reach for the pen one more time and write one particular artist's name on the board.
"It's time." You drop the pen walk over to the table in the back of the room and start distributing sheet music.
"How long have you been working on this, San?" Mercedes asks, "This is incredible, I mean you literally have 7 different vocal parts. You have blends and harmonies….this is insane, S." She pauses before she almost whispers, "Will it work? Are we being too ambitious?"
"If we want it to work, it will work. Let's get to rehearsal rooms. I need to teach Sugar harmonies, Kitty, you and Marley work on the refrain in your parts together, they have the same timing. Dani, I need you on keys with Quinn, I have her in a lower register than usual. Cedes, I want to review your part with you, I think we have the opportunities for some blending runs."
The rest of the team just stares at you, as if mesmerized by the words coming out of your mouth.
You rolls your eyes before heading up to your room to grab a few things for rehearsal. Just before walking out of the house you decide to send one more text out, but this time it isn't to Brittany.
Outgoing Message: Hi, it's Santana. I am not sure if you still have my number saved. I have been performing on the X-Factor for the past two months and my group has made it to the Final Four. I know it's late notice, but I would love if you could make it to my show next week. I will have tickets reserved for you at the Kodak Theatre for Tuesday night. I would love to see you, and for you to meet my girlfriend, Brittany. She's incredible.
The Troubletones have been hard at work in a rehearsal room for the past 3 hours. You feel really comfortable where people are vocally. The only thing the group is struggling with is staging. You and Kitty have been discussing potentials for the past 30 minutes and you just can't seem to agree.
"It's a ballad, Kitty, not some weird interpretive dance session!" You all but yell out, which causes the rest of the group to become intrigued by the escalating argument. "The last thing we want is for the dancing to detract from the purpose of the week. We don't want another fucking Britney Spears week on our hands."
Kitty narrows her eyes, "You're the one who said we had to re-invent the wheel! I doubt any other group is going to have intricate dance numbers this week. We need to be different, right?"
"I GUARANTEE the New Directions will feature Brittany and Mike, and the Warblers are going to find a way to throw acrobatics. Our wild card, our strength, our bread and butter is the music. No other group can handle this arrangement. Our focus NEEDS to be on the music." You huff out and search for someone to agree with you.
You're shocked when you hear Dani speak up, "She's right Kitty. We can't put attention on choreo right now. This blending work is way too intricate. I think S is right, we need simple unified movements that don't distract from the sound. If we can nail this, no one will touch us."
You slightly nod at Dani and mouthed a thank you, while Kitty just shakes her head. "Ugh, whatever, I guess I'll rewatch our Whitney performance and see if that inspires me to be simple as fuck.."
Before tensions can overtake the room, Quinn speaks up next, "I think that's a great idea Kitty. In fact, why don't we all take a break. Let's say we come back to the rehearsal room in an hour or so? Will that give you enough time to get some ideas?" Quinn looks to Kitty who nods and breezes out of the room. "Great, so let's meet back in a bit. Cedes? San? Can you hang back for a second?"
What you assumed was going to be a captain's meeting discussing the angle for the week or perhaps the three of you were asked to go to the video confessional room, but you were not expecting what Quinn brought up.
You and Mercedes plop into the chairs next to Quinn, as your best friend takes a deep breath, "Alright girls, it's time we had a talk. The rest of us have been discussing it and well, we want to know what your intentions are with this competition?"
You and Mercedes exchange bewildered glances, confused that there was any questions about your intentions. "Well, I don't want to speak for Santana, but I think it's pretty clear that our intentions are to win…" Mercedes raises an eyebrow at you, as if asking what the hell is going on?
Quinn gives an airy laugh, "Of course we know that the two of you want to win, but after. If we win or we don't win, we are all pretty sure we will be offered some kind of contract." You nod at Quinn waiting for her to continue, "But, do you two really want to be in this group? Is that your dream?"
You shake your head "What are you talking about Quinn? Where is this coming from? Of course want to to be in the group, the Troubletones is everything to us, it always has been."
Quinn frowns and then she grabs the sheet music you had written, "San, this" she gestures to the paper "is way bigger than the Troubletones." She drags her hand down to Mercedes complex line "THIS is way bigger than the Troubletones. You two are way bigger than this. We all love you both so much, but we really don't want you to settle for being in this group."
"I don't get it. What is going on?" Mercedes snaps, "Is this some kind of weird pump up, psych out twist to get us on our A game for the performance?" You run your hands through your hand trying to understand Quinn.
"This is a best friend, telling her best friends, that it is okay for them to chase their real dreams and not be content with living someone else's." Quinn says earnestly, "Solo careers. Names in bright lights. Global tours. Multi-platinum albums. That is what your future olds. All of us? This competition has done more than we ever thought it could, but for you two it is just the beginning. The rest of us are so happy to be a part of this group and so happy to be with the two of you, but most likely without the group we all would have pursued something really different in life. But, the two of you" she pauses "well, you're kind of made for this. Just don't be so quick to turn down those record deals and solo offers. Kay?"
You and Mercedes are speechless, which some might think is a God send. Quinn stands up and brushes her dress down, before laying a kiss on top of her two best friends heads.
After a few minutes of silence, Mercedes speaks up, "Is she right? Is Troubletones just the start for us?"
You look down at your hands which are twisted together, "I don't know. I mean are we always going to want to collaborate with a group? Find a collective sound? Don't we want to be our own artist?"
"But what does being a solo artist mean? Where would we live? I need my girls. I need Sam. Oh man, Sam. Well, I guess he could follow me anywhere - New York, LA." Mercedes is on a diatribe to herself.
"Brittany" you all but whisper to yourself. Brittany is going to Juilliard, she has made that clear from day 1. She is set on getting her education, building her foundation, building her repertoire. After everything that happened with her father, Brittany wanted to prove that she was more than just a dumb dancer. She wanted to prove to everyone that she could be a true student of her craft and that it was more than just a natural ability, it was created and cultivated. You were so proud of her for that.
Brittany will be in New York, but where will you be and who will be there next you?
Brittany's POV
"Five, six, seven, eight!" You count off as you stand in front of a portion of the New Directions in rehearsal, trying to see your vision come to life. "Sam, you're off by ⅞'s of a quarter step on the final segment." You say nonchalantly, as you quickly make another note in the Moleskine notebook Santana had special ordered for you online when you first started dating. The notebook is a steel gray color with a gold embossed ballerina on the front and a gold embossed break dancer on the back. You couldn't help but smile when you first opened the package. She was so nervous, but told you that every choreographer needed their idea notebook and she wanted this to be yours. On the inside she had taken over the front page with a photo of the two of you on one of your dates at the lake on the compound. It was a selfie, or it was meant to be a selfie, but the two of you got distracted and she dropped the phone, so it ended up just being a photo of your feet. Her's tanned and adorned with flip flops, and yours fitted in your bright yellow converse, tangled together.
"7/8s of a quarter what?" Sam pulls you out of your head space, and your blue eyes look back over at the group in front of you. Sam, Puck, Finn and Tina are all working on the background choreography with you, while Artie and Rachel are working on lyrics and Mike is putting finishing touches on your featured dance.
"A quarter step, Sam, a quarter step. You're late and it needs to be better." You reply chastely, ever since you've been given the green light to be a leader, you have really stepped into your own and become more confident in your abilities to be followed. The group has responded well and the chemistry is firing on all cylinders. However, you feel especially pressured this week. With two groups going home and the competition getting stiffer, you know that the New Directions need to stand out. The group also decided to feature you and Mike as dancers this week in a contemporary piece, and that is just another load of work added to your plate. All day you have just been looking forward to seeing Santana for your date tonight. With the end of the competition looming near, you realize that alone time with your girl is running out as well.
"Dude, it's okay, I didn't even know there could be quarter steps" Finn's voice rings out.
"Let's take it from the top once more. Remember boys, this is a love ballad. I need to see some emotion that doesn't look like constipation." Your eyes quickly glance at Finn, who per usual has a dopey constipated smile on his face. "We are going off Tina in the middle and a five, six, five, six, seven, eight!" You clap along to the rhythm, calling out beats and hits. Soon the four of them really have it down and the choreography is tightening up. You just need to get through an hour refresher course with Mike and then you are Santana free!
Two hours later, you find yourself outside the TroubleTone's town house on the brink of knocking when the door bursts open, and there stands your girlfriend looking amazing as ever, with the biggest grin on her face. Without a moment to spare, Santana grabs you by the forearm and pulls you flush against her body before locking your lips together. The air starts to buzz around the two of you as the kiss grows deeper, and Santana's tongue battles for dominance with your own. She deftly slides her thigh in between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make you involuntarily moan in her mouth. She takes a quarter step back, and her tongue slides into her own mouth and her kisses become slower and sweeter. Soon, without even realizing what is going on, Santana has pulled away from your embrace and just stands there smiling.
"Hi, Bumble" she says shyly.
You can't seem to collect your thoughts, and you know there is probably drool dripping down your face and your eyes are probably still closed. Because words aren't coming easily, you reach out and try to close the door with Santana on the inside and you on the outside. Before you can pull the knob, Santana braces her hand against the door and starts giggling, "What are you doing, Britt?"
You take a deep breath, "I am trying to close the door, so I can pick you up for our date again and we can do that again" you wiggle your eyebrows at her. Santana lets out a big laugh and just wraps you up in her arms before planting a kiss between your eyes. She inhales and exhales deeply, as if she is getting lost in you scent.
"I love you" she sighs almost dreamily.
"Te amo" you reply in a whisper in her ear, but you can feel the smile that breaks across her face. You take a step down and reach your hand back to lace your fingers with Santana's and head out to the waiting cab.
Because the two of you have been so busy, dates have been few and far between. So instead of something extravagant, you go to a small sushi restaurant Santana found on Yelp, and enjoy a quiet night in each other's presence. Before meeting Santana, you had never had sushi or Indian food or made your own pasta or anything of the amazing thing she has introduced to you. Being with Santana is so much more than the physical connection or sexual connection, it's about the intimate connection. The desire to want to get to know each other more, and be a part of the everyday. Dinner was full of laughter, with you sharing videos your mom had sent you of Aubrey doing impressions of Rachel Berry singing, and Lord Tubbington cleaning dishes. It amazed you how interested Santana was in your family and getting to know Aubrey, especially. It made you love her even more.
You couldn't help but feel guilty whenever you talked about your family. You were acutely aware of how sensitive Santana was about the subject. Ever since her episode earlier in the competition, you feel like she has been putting on a front and trying not to show her weakness. Some nights you had to hold her a little tighter because of her tremors and other times you caught her looking at her old photos she had saved on her phone. When you look at your girlfriend, you just can't understand why someone wouldn't want to support her in everything she does. If anyone can make it in this crazy, messed up business it is Santana. In the best ways, she is a shark. She knows exactly what she wants and exactly how she is going to get it. She doesn't take punches, she throws them and she stands up for what she believes in. Not mention that she is insanely talented. You can't imagine parents disowning their child for chasing their dreams.
"Britt, baby?" Santana's melodic voice calls out as she enters the room and slides in next to you on the loveseat. "I made the popcorn." The two have you had returned from dinner and decided to barricade yourself in the TTs media room and watch a movie together. It was really the simple things that you loved doing with Santana - no matter how cliche dinner and movie sounded, it was perfect.
You lean over and plant a kiss on her shoulder "MMM, you melted Monterey Jack on it. My favorite!" She places the bowl on your lap and for about the 1000th time this evening checks her cell phone. Usually Santana deliberately puts her phone away for date nights and just focuses on you, but tonight she seems a bit distracted by the thing. You place your hand over her hand and slowly rub her knuckles, just trying to reconnect her to moment. You notice her eyes shift and refocus.
"Did you pick out the movie?"
"Of course" you respond grabbing the remote and hitting play. The opening credits to Grease 2 begin to roll and Santana can't help but bounce in her seat.
"Holy shit! You found it!" She claps her hands together "This is honestly so much better than the first one. Cool Rider was my anthem in high school. How sexy would I look on a motorcycle?" She turns to you grinning. You can't help but grin right back, as you imagine Santana straddling a slick black bike. You lick your lips.
"Very sexy. You wear enough leather now to get away with it. All you need is the actual bike."
She grins back at you and scratches her chin, mimicking thought, "Hmm, maybe if the TroubleTone's win the competition, I will use the winnings to buy my first one. All black everything." She quickly shifts her eyes to you, "oh, um sorry, Britt. I shouldn't have said that about winning."
You rub your hand on her thigh, "Hey, don't worry, it is so okay to think about winning. I mean let's be real, I never thought the New Directions would get into the final four, and meeting you has been all the victory I have ever needed." Santana blushes deeply and color fills her tanned cheeks, as she grabs your hand resting on her thighs and plants three kisses to your palm, while giving you a loving look that absolutely melts your heart, "And as long as you get me a sidecar, I am totally down." She bats her eyelashes and leans over to plants three kisses on your lips before really settling down to watch the movie. You can't help but notice how excited Santana's gets as she watches the movie progress. You find yourself watching more of her than the actual film.
It was during "Reproduction" that you noticed Santana getting antsy again. Her phone lay motionless on the armrest next to her. Your legs were strewn across her lap with her hands running up and down your calves, but her eyes kept darting towards to phone. Every time there was a chime or something reminiscent of a vibration, Santana would look to the phone. Her eyes seemed to burn, as if she was willing for the screen to light up. In fact, it did chime once and she all but dove at the phone.
You look at your girlfriend perplexed as she mumbles something about a dumb email from dumb Bloomingdales about a dumb sale.
You reach for the clicker which is on the opposite arm rest to pause the movie. As the screen stills Santana calls out and snaps her eyes towards you "Hey, what are you doing, Bee? Goose hasn't hit his low notes yet."
"Sweet T, are you really even paying attention to the movie?"
"Of course I am! You know it's my favorite." She sits up straight and looks around wide eyed, just like a student in class that got caught sticking gum under their seat or passing a note.
"I do know that, which is why I also know that you could pick up the plot line with only watching a few seconds. You don't need to pay attention to know what is happening" you chide softly, watching as your girlfriend stares at her own lap. "What's going on, baby? Are you waiting for a phone call or a text or something. I've never seen you so distracted by your phone before." You sit up and take her hands in yours and slowly rub her knuckles, "Especially on date night."
Santana let's out a breath. A breath that sounds and feels like she has been holding in for hours. Her brown eyes meet your blues and you can't help but notice that they are a bit duller today than usual. A dullness she gets when she's overtired, overworked, or just plain sad. You don't want to jump to conclusions, but you think it is the third option. Santana has seemed really settled about the work the Troubletones have been doing this week. You have seen her stack of back up music and you know that she has something amazing planned.
You watch as she tilts her head side to side over her shoulders, as if she is trying to relieve some kind of tension. You know she is about to say something, and she is building herself up, so you just sit there keeping her grounded with your touch. Showering her with patience, support and love. Touch has a special place in yours and Santana's little world.
"I texted my mom earlier" she essentially whispers, while absentmindedly drawing shapes on your palm. Her eyes are completely focused on the ground. Reaching forward and guide her chin upwards, so you can lock eyes with her. You still wait patiently, not wanting to impede her thought process with questions. "I invited her and my dad to the show on Tuesday. You know I've left them tickets at will call every week?" You shake your head. "I figured maybe if I reach out they might actually come. If I tell them how well I am doing, and how it wasn't a dead end. Clearly from this continued radio silence, it's just a lost cause.
Her eyes are shifty and you can tell she is doing her best not to become overwhelmed with emotions. Emotions that have been building up for years, and that, in a vintage Santana like fashion, she has been shoving further and further away from the surface. Santana breathes in again, "I just don't get it, Brittany. Why is singing the worst possible thing that I could be doing with my life? Why does it make them not love me anymore? I knew they wanted me to be doctor, but I didn't want to be that. I didn't want those hours or that life style. I saw what it did to my father. Never home. Working on holidays. They always supported me, so I thought they would want me to go after this. For years, I have tried to come to terms with it, but I just can't rationalize their intention." Her voice cracks, and you can tell she is just exhausted from trying to grapple with her past.
"I was always the daughter they always wanted." Santana runs her hands through her dark hair, as yours fall into her lap and you begin to draw shapes of your own on her thighs, just reminding her that you're there. "I went to a great private school, I got great grades, I was the president of every club, my teachers adored me. I did it all right. Hell, I was more afraid to tell them I was gay then to tell them I wanted to be famous. I thought that would be the end of me. Not my singing." She shrugs, "It just doesn't make sense. Why don't they love me, Bee?"
You pull your girlfriend into your lap and her head hits your chest, and you feel her shoulders lightly shake in sobs, "I don't understand how anyone couldn't love you, Santana. But, then again, I am pretty bias."
You sigh in relief as you feel more than hear her lightly chuckle, "I wish I knew what to tell you, love. I wish there was some magic words that would make you feel better, but the truth is this sucks. There is no rhyme or reason to what they are doing, or at least no evident one." You plant three kisses on the crown of her head and hug her a little tighter.
"There the only family I have. I just want them to love me. I want them to come here and see how well I am doing. I want them to meet you and see how absolutely incredible you are and how happy you make me. I want my only family to be here. I want a family."
"Hey, hey" you lean her away from her chest. "You are certainly not without family." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
"No, listen to me, Santana." You wait for her eyes to meet yours. "Look at all these girls in this house, they love you the same way that I love Aubrey. You bitch and whine about each other. You yell at each other. Steal clothes. Tease and chide one another. But most of all support each other. They are your sisters. Look at Quinn and her parents. They treat you the same way that my mom treats me. They gave you food, shelter and most of all love. Those are what parents do, biological or not. Family isn't blood Santana. Family is a bond."
Her chocolate eyes are brimming with tears, "And you have me, Santana. I know what it's like to not have the upbringing or the classic family picture. So I understand what you feel like. But, I also know what love feels like. Real love. Genuine love. Because, that is what you give me each and every day. You're my family, Sweet T. You're my lifeline. My stability. You're who I want to build the rest of my life with. I know we haven't talked about this yet, but I want to be together, for a long time. I don't care what happens after this competition, because me and you, we can survive it. I know I'll be in New York and you might not, but I don't want distance to be the reason we aren't together. You're it for me, Santana. You're my family now."
Before you have time to continue, you feel lips gather yours up in a heated kiss. Soon, the movie, the popcorn and everything else was forgotten. All that was felt was the connection between you and Santana, and the unspoken promise of what was to come.
You are sitting in the greenroom after you performance, as always surrounded by your group. There was a different tension in the room this week. It really didn't matter how well you thought you did, it really truly mattered who did the best in the eyes of the judges. Only they were guaranteed to be safe.
On Sunday evening, the producers had called all the captains into a meeting. You and Santana walked in together laughing with hands linked and were met with Blaine from the Warblers and the front woman of The Hip Hop Anomalies The producers sat you down to described how the show would go on. They reiterated that two teams would be eliminated, however only one team would be saved by the votes. The judges were going to save one team, the night of the performances. You and Santana locked eyes, but she just shrugged and mouthed No real advantaged.
You also picked show order. The Warblers would be opening the show, New Directions second, HHA third and Troubletones would close. You couldn't help but notice Blaine roll his eyes when Santana drew the number four. Obviously, fourth was the spot everyone wanted.
So here you sit, having watched from backstage the Warblers perform an amazing version of Vienna by Billy Joel. You were impressed with how they reined themselves in and stayed away from their usual theatrical tendencies. Worse, you could tell the judges loved their performance, giving a standing ovation and there was hardly a dry eye in the house.
You were nervous when you got on stage, but when the music started you lost yourself in the world you and the New Directions had created over the past week. Rachel worked incredibly hard on her solo and truly gave a genuinely heartfelt version of Celine Dion's "Because You Loved Me". The true spectacle was yours and Mike's dance. The two of you took center stage, and expressed everything you could through movement. You actually found yourself brought to tears at the end, completely depleting yourself and giving everything on the stage. You were shocked to see that judges were all again on their feet. Seems like you're making their job pretty hard.
Santana was waiting for you outside the green room. Between you and the second act of the show there were some special guests, so she had time before she had to be back stage. You drift towards your girlfriend, separating yourself from the group a bit. She grabs you hands and pulls you into her, "I had to get my make-up because of you, Bumble." You see a glint in her eye and can't help but crack a smile.
"It was really that good?"
She ghosts her lips over yours, not applying a lot of pressure so she doesn't smudge her lipstick, "You're breathtaking, love. Absolutely, breathtaking."
Troubletones to on deck is called over the speaker system and she rushes off with a squeeze of your hand. And, now, here you sit. As usual, front and center getting ready to watch Santana and the TTs take the stage. The HHA performance dragged in your eyes. They attempted to stay true to their roots and do a I'll Make Love to You by Boyz II Men, but they changed the heart of the song too much and seemed to lose their momentum half way.
A hush comes over the green room, as the host announces the TroubleTones to the stage. The crowd calms down and the lights come up.
"Hello"
"Rumor has it"
"From my hometown"
"I dare you to let me be"
"Make you feel my love"
"Let me down gently"
"I found a girl"
Seven different entrances, with seven different voices, singing seven different songs from one singer, somehow in perfect unison. The Troubletones, each standing on a different platform of a different height, all crushing Adele's discography without missing a beat. Their voices blend together, yet stand apart at the same time. You can tell without a doubt that this is Santana's doing. The camera can't seem to figure out who to focus on, but soon you realize that Santana, Mercedes, Marley and Dani are carrying the harmonies, while Sugar, Kitty and Quinn are holding their own in the blending. The cacophony of sound they are producing is almost overwhelming, but at the same time you understand exactly where the song is going and why. The time limit seems to speed by, and soon each girl is dropping out in a rhythmic fashion.
Mercedes voice rings out, "I want you to be my keeper, but not if you are so reckless." Her light fades, as Santana's voice comes out from the blend, "Because I found a girl that I love more than I ever did you before." You can't help but feel butterflies at her deliberate change in lyric, as the light snaps out on your girlfriend's face.
The live feed goes quiet, as you see the reactions from the crowds and the judges. The sound isn't necessary. Everyone knows what just happened. The judges hit the gold button that signifies that Troubletones are automatically in the finale.
You are surprised when you hear Rachel speak up, "Adele was a really strong choice for them. They have the vocal range to cover all her songs. They deserved it. They were the best tonight. They just made the finale. Now it's up to America, it's between us and the Warblers."
You can't help but respond, "They didn't just make the finale. They just won X-Factor."
AN2: See you on the flip.
