As the music onstage faded out, Tito found himself stepping up out of the darkness of the back row and down towards the stage.
Santana noticed him instantly, almost dropping her mic.
"Tito? What the hell are you doing here?"
"Watching. I was locked out."
The rest of the Glee club onstage exchanged baffled looks.
"What have I told you about coming over to my school? When I'm out, stay on our own side of town!"
Tito felt his face go red and his fists clench up into themselves. No one, not even Santana, told him what to do. "I'm fifteen, I'm not a baby!"
"Well stop acting like one!" Santana grabbed her school bag and took
Tito by the arm. "Come on, were leaving."
The short brunette climbed off the stage after them. "But, Santana, we haven't even rehearsed the –"
"–Cállate la boca, Racheal!" Santana yelled. Her rage quickly turned to embarrassment as she realized she had spoken Spanish. She never spoke Spanish in front of her friends. That was for home. Tito had just messed up her whole balance.
Dragging her younger cousin out of the school, they hopped the first bus to Lima Heights Adjacent.
Santana and Tito filed through the apartment door after a silent and uncomfortable bus journey.
Santana threw her bag on the couch, but stayed standing against the door – arms folded and head lowered.
It seemed they were waiting for the other to speak.
"'Tana," Tito began at last, "I know it must be hard for you, but you can't be so ashamed of where you come from!"
"Hold it right there, kid." Her fury was back, as strong as ever. "You know nothing about how I feel, okay? You have no idea how hard it is for me!"
"Maybe if you talked to me about it once in a while I would understand!"
She sighed heavily, and moved towards the grime-stained window. "I keep these places separate, ok?"
"Why? It doesn't have to be that why."
"Look outside that window, Tito. What can you see?"
He moved beside her and looked out over the gloomy landscape below. "The blocks," he answered, a little shakily.
"In the blocks have you ever seen anyone's dreams coming true?"
Tito thought hard for a minute. This neighborhood had raised him, and he wasn't a fan of bad-mouthing it for no reason. However, he was stumped.
"In Glee club, everyone's dreaming – colleges, careers. Because that's how they were raised – hope for a better day. This block? This block sucks the life out of people, dreams and all. So maybe I like to forget sometimes. Maybe I like to pretend I was born in a sweet little house in a sweet little neighborhood, with two sweet little parents who treasured me and told me that I'd do great. But what do we get? These gang-infested blocks? A big brother in prison and a mom who walks the streets at night?"
Tears sparkled in the corners of her big dark eyes, and for a moment she looked so innocent and vulnerable that Tito had to reach out to her.
"You have me. Neither of us have anyone else, Santana – that's just the way it is."
"I can at least try to make a change," said Santana, "Try to see a world outside of here. A world where I could be safe and raise my kids to see only the good stuff – not drive-by shootings and drug deals."
Tito lowered his head. He was a part of those problems and they both knew it.
At last, Santana wiped her eyes and straightened up, her defiant look returning. "You know what, this is stupid. I don't even know why I bother. I'm an idiot to think singing and dancing's gonna change anything."
She turned smartly and hurried out the door, before Tito could react.
His face turned stony as he sank down into the couch. Maybe his dreams were pointless, but Santana had worked too hard to give up now. He'd make it up to her.
Tito zipped up his hoody a little tighter as he awkwardly made his way up the McKinley hallway. He'd spent more time in and around schools over the last few days than he had over the whole year. School never seemed to really agree with him.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed his way through the door labeled 'Choir Room.'
Tito was met with almost a dozen sets of burning eyes, staring him down.
The curly haired teacher from yesterday turned around too, looking more surprised than judgmental.
"Um, hi there. You're Santana's cousin, right?"
Tito nodded, suddenly feeling a weight clasping around his chest. The room remained in an awkward silence for a few moments.
"So," continued the choir teacher, "Can we help you with something, or are you just looking for Santana?"
"Santana didn't come into school today, Mr Shue," came a small voice from amongst the crowd of teenager. Tito recognized her as Brittany instantly. He'd seen photos of the blonde in Santana's room, though she'd never been to the house.
"Actually," Tito cleared his throat, "I'm looking for your help."
Santana kept her head bowed as she crossed McKinley High towards the auditorium for what would probably be the last time. She was dreading breaking the news to the others. Sure, she was a bitch to most of them, and she frequently expressed her disgust towards the club, but she'd be a fool to not admit that she loved them all. Even that Munchkin, Berry.
As she stepped inside the double doors and let the familiar darkness wash over her, she was surprised to find the stage completely empty. That was strange – practice was supposed to have begun over an hour ago.
Santana slumped down in the second row, feet up on the chair in front, waiting until someone showed up.
Suddenly, the curtains started to close, as if by magic. When they eventually reopened, the whole Glee club was assembled on stage, Mr Shue at the front.
"Santana," he announced, "There's someone very special to you who would like to say a few words."
He raised a hand towards the side of the stage, and on sauntered Tito, his head ducked a little. He grabbed hold of the mic before Santana could react.
"'Tana, I know we've had a lot of ups and downs over the years. You, like all of us, have got a lot of anger inside. I can relate, you know? You grow up in Lima Heights Adjacent, and you have to go through all this crap, but there it's just life. Then you come to a school like this, and you start to realize that not everyone had to go through what you did, and that just makes you crazy. But that's the way life is, 'Tana, and you can't let that anger control you. People love you for who you are. And that's what we wanted to show you – through all the fighting and the hurting, you're still unconditionally loved."
Mr Shue gave a nod, and the music cued.
Tito composed himself, letting the music wash over him until, until he launched into 2Pac's Unconditional Love.
"Come listen to my truest thoughts, my truest feelings
All my peers doing years beyond drug dealing
How many caskets can we witness
Before we see it's hard to live
This life without God, so we must ask forgiveness
Asked 'Tana why I got this urge to die
Witness the tears falling free from her eyes
Before she could reply
Though we were born without a silver spoon
Our broken down TV, showed cartoons in the living room
One day I hope to make it
A player in this game
'Tana don't cry, long as we try
Maybe things change
Perhaps it's just a fantasy
A life where we don't need no welfare
Shit with our whole family
Maybe it's me that caused it
The fighting and the hurting
In my room crying cause I didn't want to be a burden
Watch you open up your arms to hug me
And I ain't worried bout a damn thang, with unconditional love."
The rest of the club joined in on the chorus.
"In this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see
Though things change, the future's still inside of me
We must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark
So you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love
The song faded away into silence, and Santana found herself unable to move. "Mano," she murmured softly.
Tito hopped down off the stage, and let himself be engulfed inside Santana's embrace, zoning out everything outside of them.