Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
/
"Rachel's party is tonight so I'm probably going to be out pretty late," Santana says, eyeing Brittany across the breakfast table. Rachel has nabbed the coveted role in the longest-running show in the history of Broadway, The Phantom of the Opera, and she expects Santana to be there for her celebratory party.
"Rachel's party," Brittany states slowly, her gaze is still on the plate of pancakes in front of her, but her attention's on Santana.
Santana merely nods, before deciding to stand up to wash her empty cereal bowl in the sink. "Yeah, she's really over the moon about the role." She shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Things are still tensed around them weeks after the whole Dani fiasco. The media had been in frenzy, but Santana's team had been adamant about declining any interviews or even making any comment about all the stories that circulated. Both her camp and Dani's agreed to keep mum about the issue and Santana is still a bit surprised that Dani wouldn't want to confirm nor deny anything. The fact that the only thing that the press could play out was how they 'seemed' to be fighting over something helped in somewhat killing the rumors. There were no compromising shots of them holding hands, or worse, kissing, or whatever.
The people who knew them have been mum about it also. They took the news with inward curiosity, taking a few seconds to digest the information, before making their personal opinion on the issue.
Which they kept to themselves, of course.
"Give her my congratulations then."
"Are you sure you don't want to go? She'll only be here until Saturday, then she'll be off to New York for god knows how long."
"I have rehearsals, Santana." Brittany clenches her jaw before she stands to replace Santana on the sink. "They normally last until the wee hours of the morning. Not that you notice." Brittany mumbles the last part as she wipes her hands on the kitchen towel.
"What was that?" Santana asks, not quite hearing what Brittany just whispered; yet she can tell by the expression on the blonde's face that she's upset.
"Nothing." Brittany answers, stomping her feet as she scurries out of the kitchen towards their bedroom.
Letting her head fall back against her shoulders dramatically, Santana sighs and rolls her eyes. Lately, Brittany gets pissed off about the stupidest things, she swears. "Okay, what is upsetting you now?" She demands, starting to get tired of Brittany's attitude.
"I said nothing, Santana! Why is that so hard to understand?"
Taken aback by Brittany's outburst, Santana takes a step back. "I told you about this party as soon as Rachel informed me." She sighs exasperatedly. "Rachel's your friend too. You have never attended any of her parties after high school."
"And I told you that I can't come because I have to tape two episodes this week." Brittany says defiantly as she strips out of the tank top she slept in last night. For her part, Santana debates for a moment if she should just let this one go, because she has to be on the set herself in an hour and a half, and fighting with Brittany could do more harm than good.
"Do you not want me to go or something? Because I'm sort of Rachel's secret bestfriend now or whatever, and it'd be kinda shitty if I bailed on her." Santana tried the calm and joke-a-little-about-it route.
Brittany merely shakes her head. "I don't care if you go."
"Britt," Santana laughs. "What's the problem? And don't tell me 'nothing' because I can see that you're upset."
"Just drop it. I don't want to talk about it."
"Except we need to talk about it." Santana finally challenges, crossing her arms on her chest. "We need to talk about a lot of things." The actress sighs, hoping that Brittany will finally talk to her. Like, really talk to her. "Brit—"
"We're fine, Santana." Brittany grabs the robe that she left on the couch after stripping herself of her last piece of clothing.
"Are you serious?" Santana huffs. "We went from talking all the time to you being upset all the time. We need to talk about what went down in New York between me and—"
"Don't say her name!" Brittany glares at her girlfriend. "We are fine. And we are going to be fine. I don't care about that woman." The dancer roughly tightens her robe, still not meeting Santana's gaze. "I only wanted to know one thing, and you answered it before. That's all that matters to me and I don't want to talk about it anymore." Brittany breathes out before walking away from Santana and into the bathroom, leaving a dumbstruck Santana behind.
It's true.
As soon as Brittany got wind of the gossip, she was stoic—something that Santana's not used to. Santana arrived back in Los Angeles that same night, hoping to have some alone time to think things through and just be away from everybody. Except Brittany was unexpectedly home from a shoot that wrapped up earlier than expected.
There was no yelling. No accusations. No cold shoulders.
Brittany just held her in her arms, whispered soft I love you's before she asked if Santana loves her too.
/
"Of course I do—" Santana whispered back, tired and still reeling from the events of the day.
"That's all that matters to me. That's all I need to know."
"Britt, I—"
"Shhh..." Brittany just hugged Santana tighter. "Nothing else matters. We're fine."
The morning after Santana flew back from New York, she woke up with a sumptuous breakfast and coffee prepared by Brittany. The atmosphere was a bit tensed, but Brittany made sure to replace that with faux kindness and smiles.
They were indeed fine in the days that followed. Brittany acted as if nothing happened. She was even sweeter, kinder and more understanding than ever. The only thing that riled Brittany up was seeing Danielle Harper, or even hearing about her. Everytime Santana tried to talk to Brittany about what happened, the dancer almost always had an excuse not to.
Brittany just wanted everything about Danielle Harper buried and forgotten.
/
"You know what, Brittany?" Santana yells, her jaw clenching in anger. "Fine! You don't want to talk? Then fine! We won't talk!" She huffs as she walks towards the next room to shower. She locks the door and starts to strip out of her clothes. She runs her bath, checking on the temperature just to make sure that it's up to her liking. Once she's satisfied, Santana lies in the tub, sighing as the water starts to calm her.
She knows that Brittany will be done in a few minutes. She pretty much gets ready in record time, unlike Santana who takes forever to take a bath and get dressed. She just doesn't want to see Brittany right now and she's hoping that she'll be out of the house in the middle of her bath.
They're not fine.
Not by a long shot. But everytime Santana tries to get Brittany to talk about what happened in New York, the blonde immediately shuts down—a complete departure from her old self who prodded, and most of the times, begged, Santana to 'talk' about feelings.
Brittany changed. Everyone and their mothers noticed how she morphed from her childlike, everything-is-great-I-am-a-unicorn-and-the-world-is-a-double-rainbow self to this mature woman. For the longest time, the two of them have always complemented each other. They have been each other's staunchest defender. Santana saw Brittany as intrinsically good and beautiful and complicated when everybody else just branded her as stupid and an idiot. She looked into Brittany's layers lovingly, and in the process, Brittany's complexities and flaws made her fall in love with Brittany.
And Brittany herself made Santana feel not only loved, but more so, she made Santana realized that she's worthy of love. She made Santana feel things she never thought she'll feel. Together, they were Yin and Yang.
They had each other at their best. And at their worst. They deserved each other. Together, they were supposed to discover the bigger world. Be successful in their respective fields, and still be together. They were going to get married and have lots and lots of babies.
That has always been the plan.
Always been. Until Santana graduated and Brittany did not.
And from then on, Santana will shamefully admit it to herself (and only to herself) that she started to make plans that didn't include Brittany. And it shames her even more to know in her heart that she's sure that she'll be able to have a full and happy life even without Brittany.
But then, there's this other voice in her head that's telling her that what's happening now must mean something. That Brittany being back in her life accounts for something.
How could she explain that?
"Fuck this!" Santana curses under her breath. She starts massaging her temples, that familiar ache making its presence felt again. Her head pounds even more when she hears the door to the nearest room slam, followed by heavy footsteps that she's sure are Brittany's. She waits until she hears Brittany's car come to life before she picks up the phone she had installed near the tub.
She waits for the person from the other line to pick up, tapping her fingers impatiently on the edge of the tub.
"I genuinely hope that you're calling not to inform me that you'll be MIA tonight." That all-too familiar voice says in lieu of a greeting. "I specifically told you—"
"Oh Rachel, calm your ginormous beak." Santana rolls in eyes playfully. "Your most important guest moves that you pick her up in two hours for some ."
"Santana, I am in the middle of—"
"I move to end this conversation. Bye Berry! See you in two hours!"
/
/
Rachel looks at Santana who's sitting beside across from her. She narrows her eyes, observing the woman who's picking on her salad.
"Okay. I can actually hear you thinking from here, Santana." Rachel couldn't help herself. She just couldn't help herself. "What's wrong? I'm supposed to be resting right this moment, you know? I have a party tonight. My party. I should look fresh and—"
"That's why we're here, Berry."
"To eat? Because I could—"
"For a while, alright?" Santana glares at the smaller brunette. "We'll eat this early lunch of ours, then we'll hit The Beverly Hills Hotel Spa. My treat, of course. God knows you need it."
"Santana, I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of looking good without any outside help!"
"Hmm." Santana merely nods as she starts picking on her salad.
"Okay, what's wrong?" Rachel narrows her eyes as she looks at the often snarky actress, knowing full well that something's not right. "And don't tell me 'nothing' because that lame murmur is very telling."
"Brittany." Santana breathes out, putting down her fork before pushing her plate away. "We're just in a bad place right now." The actress sighs, running her palm across her face.
"Have you talked about it?" Rachel scratches "I mean, it would—"
"That's just it, Rachel. She doesn't want to talk about anything."
"Hmm." Now, it's the Broadway diva's turn to be speechless.
"I just wanted to pick her brain, you know? Not that I need to. I can still read Brittany like the back of my hand." Santana sighs as she pushes her glass towards Rachel, motioning for her companion to refill her glass with wine. "She's hurt and pissed about what happened with Dani, but she doesn't want to talk about it."
"And that pisses you off."
"Of course it does."
"I—uh..." Rachel clears her throat as she looks around, a habit that she has whenever she's out with Santana. It's not born out of anything, but — or maybe it is due to the fact that the last time she went to lunch with Santana, Kurt showed her an article from JustJared with candid photos of her shoving her face into a massive vegan burger. To say that their friends chortled with laughter from the photos would be an understatement. Her lawyer-father, together with her agent, even went as far as ordering the site to take down the pictures, threatening them with a lawsuit if they don't comply.
It was Santana who managed to put an end to the huge Rachel Berry embarrassment when she called the editor and charmingly requested that the unflattering shots be taken down.
"What?"
"Brittany confuses me." Rachel admits shyly. "I mean, I expected her to break up with you, or throw a fit at least, after that thing with Dani came out. Well, the photos were not incriminating per se, but she knows your history with Danielle."
"It confused me too." Santana sighs. "She used to be the one who wants to talk about feelings all the time."
"I know." Rachel mumbles, her brows furrowing. "She wasn't angry?"
"She just asked me if I love her. When I said I do, she ended the 'conversation', if you could call it that, right then and there. Said that's all she needs to know." Santana answers exasperatedly.
"But you know that she's not okay?"
"Yes. She's acting like it never happened. We were fine for a few days, until I told her about your party."
"She doesn't want you to go?"
"She said she doesn't care if I go."
"Oh." Rachel says in a small voice. She had felt something weird with Brittany eversince Santana got back with the dancer. Rachel chalked it up to the fact that it's a common knowledge amongst the Glee people that it was Rachel who pushed Santana and Dani to be together. So yeah, Rachel understands the lack of warmth from Brittany whenever they interact. Though, when Santana's around, Brittany tries to be a little friendly.
"Oh, what?"
"Nothing." Rachel looks down and starts playing with her utensils.
"Oh cut the crap Berry!"
"It's just that…" Rachel sighs, a little worried that she'll start a little word war with the question lingering at the tip of her tongue. But looking at Santana's expectant face, she knows it's too late to back out. With a tender voice, Rachel asks, "why are you with Brittany, Santana? I know I don't have the right to ask, but I'm taking a risk. You may or may not answer me of course."
"Why would you ask something like that?" Santana frowns, a little peeved at the question. "I love Brittany."
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry if that was an offensive question for you. And I know I'm in danger of being on the receiving end of another harassment and round of insults from you, but I'm gonna take my chances." Rachel starts drumming her fingers at the edge of the table, irritating Santana.
"Oh for Barbara's sake, out with it, Berry!"
"I don't believe you."
"What the hell?"
"There's something different with you Santana. I mean, now that you're with Brittany the second time around."
"Like how? Come on, Berry, humor me." Santana chuckles dryly.
"I had the privilege of seeing you two together in high school as well as now that you're older. You were obviously very smitten then. The way you looked at Brittany then?" Rachel smiles sadly. "It was like you didn't know whether the world spun so fast or stopped. It was beautiful."
"And now?" Santana gulps, hoping that whatever Rachel's about to say would be complete and utter bullshit.
"Your eyes look tired. Like they've been taught what to see."
"You're not making any sense…"
"They seem… settled. Resigned."
"I love Brittany." Santana says defensively, crossing her arms on her chest. "I love her. I've loved her since forever." Santana sounds desperate, as if she's trying to convince herself more than Rachel.
"And I don't doubt that. You have years of history between the two of you. But the heart of my question is, are you in love with Brittany?"
Santana's the one to look around this time. She knows that the table they're in is probably the best one in the restaurant. There's a reason why Santana loves this particular spot. It's secluded, and they don't have to worry about other diners overhearing their conversation. Yet Santana wants to be doubly sure. So she checks, and once she's sure that the area's clear, she focuses her attention back to her companion.
"You tell no one of this." Santana raises her index finger, waving it in front of Rachel's face who just rolls her eyes as she swats the offending finger away.
"Not even Kurt?"
"How do you define no one, Berry?"
"Okay! Not even Kurt then!" Rachel bounces on her seat, too excited at the prospect of keeping a Santana Lopez secret.
"You know how my abuela disowned me, yeah?" Santana asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. It's still, to this day, a very sensitive topic for her. "My mother wants Britt for me. Not anyone else." She sighs. "Especially not Dani."
"For real?"
"Yeah. It's Brittany or bust."
"What does she has against Dani?" Rachel asks, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"She doesn't think Dani's a good influence. She saw those articles about Dani smoking what seemed like a weed. She doesn't like her lifestyle." Santana shrugs. Maribel indeed isn't too fond of the famous singer. She thinks that Dani's lifestyle—the travels, the women and hard partying—is detrimental to her own daughter's life. Whereas with Brittany, Maribel's confident that Santana will be in good hands.
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"But wait." Rachel furrows her eyebrows in confusion. "What does she have to do with your abuela?"
"Well..." Santana gulps, fidgeting in her seat. "Mom said that if it isn't Brittany, then I shouldn't expect her to attend any wedding I'd find myself in. And I've already lost my grandmother. I can't lose my mother too." She rambles.
"What?"
"And Susan..." Santana once again rubs her face with the palms of her hands. "God... she was so pissed at me." The actress stops, looking at Rachel with wide eyes when she realizes that she made a mistake of talking more than she should.
"What about her?"
"When she learned that Brittany was starting to get in touch with me again...a few months after my breakup with Dani, she visited me at home."
"Hmm."
"I don't even know how she knew where I lived then. But looking back, I think my mother was responsible for that." She chuckles.
"So what happened then?" Rachel prods, looking at Santana with genuine curiosity.
"It was a verbal smack down to say the least." She smiles sadly. "I got berated for everything I've done that hurt her daughter. She said that I've caused Brittany unimaginable pain when I broke up with her. How much she changed from the happy daughter they knew to someone they didn't even recognized. They hated everyone else that Brittany dated after me. Said she only dated them to spite me. And she wasn't shy in making it known that she blamed me for that."
"San—"
"She said I ruined Brittany for anyone else. That the least I could do was come back and fix things."
"Wow, that was harsh."
"It may seem so, but I understand her. Especially after what happened."
"The break up?" Rachel frowns. "Isn't that taking things too far? I mean, sure, break up hurts, but her daughter's not the only one in the world who experienced it." The Broadway diva adds with an eye roll.
"Rachel..." Santana breathes out, once again looking around for any sign that someone else is listening to them. When she sees no one else, she starts speaking in a soft voice. "When she started talking to me again, it wasn't because she wanted us to go back to being bestfriends. She wanted us to get back together."
"Oh."
"Yeah. And I wasn't ready then."
"You declined right?"
"I did. I thought she understood why. It wasn't weeks later, when Susan came to tell me off, that I learned that she drank herself to sleep almost every night until one day, her body gave out. Thankfully, she was on a break from shooting and she was in Lima for a short vacation. Susan found her in her room, passed out and looking too pale. They took her to the hospital where the doctor told them that their daughter would have died of alcohol poisoning if they brought her later."
"Oh god..." Rachel brings her hand to her mouth, shock written all over her face.
"Please don't judge her, Rachel." Santana mumbles solemnly.
"I—I'm not. I'm just surprised..."
"I can the wheels in your head are turning."
"I just—I just need to process the things you've just told me. I'm not judging her."
"You can judge me though." Santana looks away. "I'm giving you the permission to."
/
Santana finds herself back in the passenger seat of Rachel's car as the smaller brunette drives them to Beverly Hills Hotel.
"Since we're in the business of telling each other, uh, stuff, I think it's high time I tell you some things too, don't you think?"
Santana just rolls her eyes, looking out of her window.
"I just don't get what the fuss about Brittany is. I never really did." Rachel shrugs nonchalantly as she continues driving.
"You have two seconds to explain what you mean by that, Berry." Santana narrows her eyes menacingly, still not looking at Rachel. No matter what situation they're in, she'll always defend Brittany.
"I'm going to ignore the underlying threat in that statement in favor of articulating my opinions." Rachel sighs dramatically.
"Berry—"
"I just couldn't get myself to believe her 'stupid act'. And before you hit me, consider that I am the one driving and therefore, your life is in my hands. Like, literally."
"Did you—"
"I didn't say she's stupid. I said 'stupid act'. And this is just my opinion. My opinion." Rachel clarifies, knowing that Santana is very sensitive to the word. "The fact that she got accepted into MIT proves what I believed in all those years ago to be true. It was all an act."
"An act? What for?"
"I don't know Santana, you tell me." Rachel challenges. "Actually, I can think of a hundred little instances, but I know that you'll just try to invalidate every point I make." Rachel spares a look at Santana before focusing her attention back on her food.
"What are you trying to prove, Rachel?"
"Nothing really. I don't have anything to prove. I'm just making my opinion."
"And what's that?"
"That I don't get why you all looked at her through rose-colored glasses." She repeats her earlier point. "Artie, Rory, Sam and even you..." Rachel gulps before she continues, "you are looked at her like she's a god. Like she can't do anything wrong. That everything she did was right and everything wrong she does can be justified. Oh, she's just naturally naive!"
"Berry—"
"But she could be mean, you know? I think you all just refused to see that. Anyone who disagreed with her was immediately the antagonist."
"Rachel! For all her flaws, she's still beautiful. She's innocent. She's everything that's good in this miserable, stinking world. "
Santana receives another eye roll from her companion. "Sure. But she could be manipulative. She played games. She knowingly hurt other people's feelings, then she'll have that innocent look in her face as if she didn't mean to. She was worse than you."
"Fuck you, Berry! You're just—"
"What? I was just jealous?" Rachel glares at Santana. "Maybe!" She huffs in indignation. "Because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she always got the get out of jail free card because what? She was pretty? She was a Cheerio? She had a banging body? She was, quote, innocent, unquote?" She chuckles dryly.
"She's not manipulative. If there's anyone who was, it was me. Okay?!"
"Really? Why did she date Artie then? Was it because she was genuinely in love with him?"Oh! I remember! It was your fault!" Rachel smirks. "Why did she date Sam?" Rachel is on a roll and nothing, not even the glare that Santana's sending her way seems to be enough to get her to stop. "Oh! It was your fault again! Because you broke up with her. Did it even matter to her that she didn't really love those boys? Did it matter to her that she led them on?"
"What's your point, Berry?" Santana asks, looking tired and pained
"She's not as naive as people think. She knew what she was doing. And you? You know Brittany better than anyone of us. More than Artie. More than Rory. More than Sam. More than anyone. Those boys only saw the Brittany that they wanted to see. You, on the other hand, knew her since you were kids. You were basically joined in the hip. That's why I'm disappointed that you got back with her because you didn't want to hurt her again. She's not made of paper, Santana. Sure, she can get hurt; but no, she won't break. She can take it."
"I don't—"
"Why are you really with her? Is it because you're madly in love with her? Or is it because you don't want to hurt her again?"
"I love her."
"And I don't doubt that. We all know that you will always, always love Brittany. Even Dani back then understood that."
"I'm not breaking up with her again."
"Sure. Wait for her to break up with you, Santana, that would be for the best." Rachel says mockingly, pulling over to check on the best parking space she could take.
"You don't understand—"
"Maybe I don't." Rachel concedes. "And it's okay if you're angry at me." Rachel smiles timidly as she parks perfectly, something that she's obviously proud of. "I'm merely giving my opinions and observations."
"That didn't sound like just observations."
Rachel sighs as she removes her seat belt. "You can take it any way you want—"
"Wanky—"
"But if there's one thing I've learned from my fathers, it's this." She looks Santana square in the eye. "It is impossible not to hurt and disappoint the person you love. Unless you love them so cautiously and fearfully, you might as well not have loved them at all." She smirks before exiting the car, leaving a dumbfounded Santana.
/
Hours later, New York
After over five hours in the air and another half an hour taxi ride, the tall figure finds themselves standing outside a wooden door. The woman takes a deep breath before she starts pounding on the heavy door.
It takes a few seconds before she hears footsteps at the other end of the door. It takes another few seconds for her to hear the locks open, revealing a short woman with blue hair. Brittany's taken aback for a little while, knowing that the last time she saw the woman (at least in the television), she was sporting a hair color that was somewhat the same as hers. The shock wears off easily as soon as she remembers why she's here.
"Brittany?" Dani mutters, shock also painted in her face.
"Hello, Dani." Brittany says with contempt.