"We live in cities you'll never see on the screen, not very pretty but we sure know how to run things..."

I groaned, pulling my pillow firmly over my head, and counting backwards from ten (It's a new calming technique I've been trying out... it has yet work).

10, 9, 8...

"A hundred jewels on throats, a hundred jewels between teeth..."

My roommate has just discovered Lorde and has literally not played anything but her album in almost a month; she also insists on trying to mimic her singing voice exactly, all the while I'm proud I haven't suffocated her in her sleep. I like Lorde just as much as the next person, but I swear to God, if I hear her damn songs much more, I may crack my roommate's physical copy of the CD in half and use the sharp edges to slice my own ears off.

7, 6, 5...

"I'm kind of over getting told to throw my hands up in the air, so there..."

Yeah, and I'm kind of over being woken up like this every fucking morning. I clenched my fingers around the pillow tighter, pulling it impossibly closer to my head.

4, 3...

"Living in ruins of a palace within my dreams, and you know, we're on each other's team..."

I pull my phone from my nightstand and see that I had at least five extra minutes of sleep before my alarm sounded, stolen from me because that troll has a morning regime that's almost as thorough as her nighttime one... almost!

2... Nope, no! I can't do it, I just can't.

Storming out of bed, I violently throw my door open so that is bangs harshly against the wall. The singing ceases and I know I have her attention but all I see is red; I couldn't stop now even if I wanted to... what? I've got rage.

Banging aggressively on the bathroom door, my voice rises to it's you-should-genuinely-fear-me level, and when I hear the shower turn off, it's evident said tone of voice has not lost it's touch, which still pleases me after all this time.

"Rachel, I am not kidding when I say that if you so much as whisper sing the words to a single Lorde song in my presence one more time, I'm going to shove my Louboutin stiletto so far up your ass you'll be singing in octaves only dogs can hear. Am I making myself clear?!"

Nothing but silence comes from behind the door, so I pound my fist once more with so much force behind it it shakes on it's hinges.

Rachel let's out a tiny squeal, but simply responds with a quiet "perfectly".

Satisfied that I'd instilled enough fear in my roommate to at least keep her hushed for the rest of the morning, I make my way to the kitchen, happy when I see Rachel's already set up the Keurig.

While my coffee brews, I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot a text to my co-worker, and best friend.

[I think today might finally be the day I murder Rachel with a blunt object; if the cops ask, I was with you all morning.]

Once my coffee's ready, I sit at the breakfast counter and take in these few moments of solitude before my day in the land of screaming children begins.

"You know, your bully tactics are getting pretty old, Santana. You could just politely request I sing something else, you don't have to be so aggressive about it, it's not very becoming."

Annnnd, moment of solitude is ruined.

"This scalding coffee will becoming at you if you don't stop speaking to me right now."

The words have only left my mouth when my phone chimes on the counter with a response from Quinn that simply reads:

[play nice.]

Rolling my eyes, I swear I sometimes think Quinn's secretly been bugging my apartment just in case I really do go all Kill Bill on Rachel, I place the device back on the counter without replying.

"Seriously, Santana. Must we do this every morning?!"

"If you continue to wake me up with your screeching, then yes, we do."

Rachel just sighs dramatically and fills her to-go flask with coffee; mumbling something about a late shift at the diner after rehearsals for her band, and exits the apartment.

It's funny really, because when I initially made the decision to live with Rachel, I thought it was going to be a good idea. She seemed motivated, and pleasant, or at very least tolerable, and yeah her wardrobe could use some help... from some gasoline and a match, and she walks with this weird, feet pointing out thing, but she genuinely seemed pretty cool. It only took three weeks of living with her to decide I basically detested everything about her and cursed whatever higher power made me believe signing into a 12 month lease with maybe the most irritating person on the planet, was a smart decision.

We do get along sometimes, but those times have become less and less in recent months, and even the most basic of pleasantries has become a struggle.

I throw what's left of my coffee down the drain, and head to the bathroom to start my morning regime, which takes about a quarter of the time it takes my roommate, but I guess I just don't really need as much help in looking good as she does.

Once I'm ready, I head to my car to make the tedious trip to work, the radio automatically switching on when I start the engine.

"And we'll never be roy-"

"UGH!" I punch the power button, deciding to ride in silence this morning. Fucking Lorde...

"Morning sunshine" Quinn sing songs from behind me, already dressed in her Sleeping Beauty costume. I glare at her, but she just brushes it off. It's kind of our 'thing'. "So, hashtag roommate probs again?"

"How many times do we have to talk about how lame it is to say hash tag before things in real life?" she shrugs, I know she's mostly doing it because she knows how much it bothers me, but I'm really not in the mood this morning. Instead of picking a fight, I just give a stiff nod. "She's literally got to be the most irritating individual there ever was. It has to be some sort of cosmic joke that I've been lumped with her! Karma, coming back to bite me in the ass for that time in middle school when I lied, and told everyone Noah Puckerman had lice and he shaved his head because none of the other kids would go near him."

Quinn laughed at this, and so did I. Truth be told, I was never really sorry for that. He told everyone I stuffed my bra, which caused the nickname 'tissue tits' to haunt me for all of seventh grade.

"So, did you hear they found a replacement Cinderella?"

I shook my head. "No, but let's hope this one lasts more than three months before boning one of our Prince not-so-Charmings."

"I heard she's really nice. Well, according to Tina any way." Quinn informed.

"Hmmm..." I was always skeptical of new people, I didn't like change all that much.

"Hey, how're you ladies doing in there? Almost ready?" Our supervisor, John, called from outside the locker room.

"Just a sec." I shouted. He was a pretty decent guy, and was exceptionally patient with me whenever I rolled my eyes at some doe-eyed kid, or took longer than I was supposed to on break.

/

Quinn and I made our way out into the park once I had changed into my Jasmine outfit, and fixed my hair accordingly. I was over this day already.

"Morning Santana." A chirpy Marley called, dressed as Belle and waving her book prop enthusiastically at me. I'm not sure why she was always so happy to see me, I mean, I wasn't mean to her, but I can't say I was exceptionally nice to her either, in fact, I rarely even gave her the time of day.

"Morning Marley." I said, giving a half hearted wave.

I looked at my surroundings, trying to spot the new girl so that I could make a hasty initial, and most likely, lasting judgement of her.

Scanning the area, I caught sight of a girl dressed in a Cinderella costume standing near the carousel talking to a little girl in a princess dress before giving her hug. She was beautiful, breathtakingly so, with stunning blue eyes that I could see from all the way over here, and sparkling smile, and I won't lie, I was jealous of the kid getting to have her arms wrapped around her, which is a weird thought, but true.

I was so distracted I didn't notice a group of girls approach me. They had to be about 17 but were giggling like 12 year olds at their first boy/girl party.

"Hi" one of the taller girls stood directly in front of me. "Would you mind if I got a picture? Jasmine's my favourite."

Time to put the game face on. I tore my eyes away from from the blonde bombshell, and smiled at the girl. She blushed. Seriously, what is it with girls, that the older they get, the more enthusiasm they have for all things Disney? Is it like a rule someone forgot to tell me about when I was a teenager?

"Of course." I responded in the sickeningly sweet voice I used while on the clock.

We snapped the picture, and they proceeded to ask me to sign their autograph books. I hated this part the most, signing stuff. I'm left handed and nothing irks me more than having ink stains up my hand all day.

Not wanting to seem like a raging bitch, and mostly because I was on thin ice with our head co-ordinator, Sue, I took their books and made small talk. "So, are you lovely ladies here with any princes today?"

The girls all giggled again, nudging the one who had asked me for a photograph. Her face turned cherry red, and she refused to lift her gaze from the ground, "I'm more about the princesses." She admitted, completely mortified by her own honesty. I gave her a sympathetic smile that let her know that was nothing to be embarrassed about, and waved the group goodbye.

"Yeah, me too" I said wistfully under my breath when I looked up to see Cinderella smiling and waving in my direction as the girls took off. I was excited for all of three seconds before I saw Tina walk past me and straight up to her, embracing her in a familiar fashion.

I caught up with Tina later at lunch, interrupting her attempted flirting with Blaine. He played Prince Eric, and Tina was completely besotted by him; unfortunately for her, he was completely gay, and either she had the worst gaydar ever, or she was merely choosing to live in ignorant bliss.

"Sorry to break up this... whatever this is..." I gestured between them.

Blaine rolled his eyes "We were just talking, Santana. I've had a cold for the past few days and Tina said she knows some ancient asian remedies that could help."

"Mmm, I'm sure she did." I smirked, eyeing Tina in a way that let her know I knew what her game was.

Tina looked guilty but brushed it off as fast as possible. "Is there something I can help you with, Santana?"

"Actually, there is." I took her by the arm and pulled her away from Blaine. He's nice and all, but I don't need him knowing all my business. "What's the deal with the new girl?"

"Who? Brittany?"

"Brittany, huh?"

"Yeaaaah." Tina drawled, looking at me like she was trying to suss out my angle "What about her?"

"What do you know about her?" I pressed. I wanted to know as much about her as I could so that I could bring my A game when I eventually decided to get my flirt on.

"Well, her name's Brittany Pierce, she's originally from San Diego but recently moved to LA, actually, she lives pretty near Quinn from what she described. Uhm, she likes cats and..."

Tina trailed off when she noticed my attention had gone elsewhere, namely to the subject of our conversation that was now talking to Quinn at one of the nearby tables.

"And?"

Tina followed my gaze before continuing "And she's way too nice for you."

I scoffed bitterly "I'm nice."

"Not really."

"Well, I'm working on it. I have a plan."

"Just leave her alone, Santana. She's new here, and I really like her, I think we could be great friends, I don't want you scaring her off. Plus, she's settling in super well, everyone loves her already."

"Please, she's been here like ten seconds, how can everyone love her?!"

"For one thing, she's made a point of going around introducing herself to all the other cast members."

"She hasn't tried to talk to me." I said, mildly offended.

I watched as she laughed loudly at something Quinn said, feeling uncharacteristically jealous.

"That's because you're intimidating and unapproachable."

"Are those her words, or yours?" I challenged.

"Mine. But it's true." And with that Tina scurried off, no doubt to reattach her lips to Blaine's ass.

I made my way over to the table occupied by my friend, and Brittany.

"Oh, hey Santana. This is Brittany, she was just telling me this hilarious story about a duck in a hat. You gotta hear it." Quinn chuckled through her introduction.

Keeping in mind what Tina had said, I plastered on my friendliest smile and extended my hand. "Nice to meet you, Brittany. I'm Santana."

"Yeah, I know." She shook my hand, keeping the intense eye contact I had initiated. I was hoping it would hypnotise her into a prolonged handshake, that would perhaps verge on awkward, but that may give me some idea if she was just playing extremely hard to get. However, she released her grip almost immediately and looked back to Quinn; continuing with her story.

I sulked and sat down beside Quinn, as Brittany dazzled her with her great stories, and seemed equally as interested in everything Quinn had to say, while giving my questions and input, minimal and curt responses.

I excused myself once I had cleared my plate and headed back to my grind.

Quinn caught up to me a little while later, just before the 4 o clock parade.

"Hey, so a bunch of us were talking, and we're all going to head out Friday as a sort of 'welcome to the fold' thing for Brittany. You in?"

I shrugged. Brittany had been mingling with other cast members and visitors all day, but ignored me almost entirely. I tried smiling at her once, but she just nodded in acknowledgement and walked the other way. "I guess."

"Great! I'll tell Tina, she wants an idea of numbers."

She began heading towards her float, stopping just before she reached it "Hey, are you still coming over later?"

"Sure." As an afterthought I called back "Actually, you can come to my place, the dwarf has a late shift at the diner."

"Ok." Quinn called back, as she rounded her float.

I turned to head towards the Aladdin spectacle, almost bumping into Brittany in the process. "Oh, sorry."

"You know dwarves?"

"Wha- oh, no, I was talking about my roommate. She's short, and I hate her. It's just a nickname I gave her to piss her off."

Brittany stared at me blankly, although I didn't miss the slightest hint of disappointment that ghosted her features. "That's mean."

I screwed up my face. I certainly hadn't expected her to call me out. She didn't even know me. Usually I'd tell her where to shove her opinion, except I didn't feel angry, I felt embarrassed and sad that she thought I was mean. I felt the need to justify myself, which I never feel the need to do.

"It's not. You'd understand if you met her!"

She shrugged. "If you say so."

And with that she walked off towards the princess float, disapproval still evident on her face.

Shit.

A/N: I do not currently, nor have I ever worked as a Disney princess, or at Disneyland. Absolutely everything is completely fictional, and I'm sure Disney princesses really like their jobs... I know I would if I were them.

Thanks for reading!