Chapter: 6/?

Word Count: 5247

A/N: And it's time for the tribute chapter I promised before. As always thanks for alerts, favorites and reviews and check for the replies on my Tumblr (noattentionspan89). You readers are my muses. Thank you. Grazie.

This chapter is dedicated to Florence + the Machine and the songs are: "Drumming Song" and "Shake It Out".

Enjoy and review.

Chapter V

Drumming Song

Lima, 31 October 2008

Santana looked around the house. She couldn't even recall whose it was. She didn't care in the least. All it mattered was that the three main things necessary for a party were there: booze, music and Brittany. Not in that particular order.

Puckerman, a guy from the football team who had been flirting with her since the start of the school year, had picked them up at her house and they went all together in his pick-up, she in the middle pressed to Brittany's side. The ride was filled with aimless chatter from Puck, Britt's strange little comments and her side remarks, always at the boy's expenses.

Once inside the two girls had lost Puck with the excuse of having to find Quinn and their fellow Cheerios; he stayed in the hall fist bumping the other football players in greeting and stage fighting with Finn. She snorted. The lumbering boy was dressed as a cowboy, when in reality he would have been perfect as one of those air filled jacks with flailing limbs you could find outside some big stores. She whispered so to Brittany's ear making her giggle and start swinging her arms around like a fool. This started another round of giggles from either of them. They leaned on each other to avoid falling to the ground.

Their laugh was cut short by Quinn's arrival, and her sharp greeting. "What?"

"Nothing Q. I just saw one of those Ents and was telling San about it."

The blonde's comment went ignored as usual by the cheerleader, while the other two continued to exchange fleeting looks full of mirth.

Santana shook her head in wonderment and asked to herself how people could overlook Britt's brilliance.

"I want to dance. Later." And with a last squeeze of their joined pinkies the blonde let go and moved trough the crowed. Santana stood rooted to the spot staring at her retreating figure, a feeling of loss settling in the pit of her stomach. She was pulled back to reality by the other Cheerio entering her visual field.

"Tonight you seem stranger than usual." Quinn commented. "Can you stop looking in her direction? You look like a lost puppy." She added with a lift of a perfect eyebrow.

The gnawing at her stomach worsened, but she put on a fake smile. "Nothing. I was just looking out for her. You know how she can be." The lie slipped easily through her red lips and she rolled her eyes to strengthen her defense.

"And you? Who are looking for? I bet Finn. He was talking with Puck a little while ago."

The other girl blushed prettily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, sure." The Latina snorted.

"You don't believe me?" Quinn challenged eyebrow raised and a teasing smile on her lips.

"Your blush tells me otherwise." She didn't back down. They were the Cheerios with the biggest chance of getting the head position the following year and they tried to up do each other every occasion they got. In spite of all, since the first day of high school the three girls, with Brittany acting as a buffer between the hard-driven two, had formed an alliance and a strange sort of friendship; the students had started calling them the Unholy Trinity, and while they weren't on top of the food chain yet, everyone knew they soon would be.

They stared at each other for several seconds before the sound of cheering broke up their mental duel.

They effortlessly made their way across the room, past the drunken mass of teenagers, until they could see who was in the center of attention.

There's a drumming noise inside my head

It starts when you're around

I swear that you could hear it

It makes such an almighty sound

Santana stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and mouth open. She blinked a couple of time, hypnotized by the sight in front of her. Her breath got caught in her throat and her breathing sped up against her will. She had never seen something so arousing. Afraid that those near her could sense her thoughts she glanced around, but found that everyone was as mesmerized as she was.

She had seen Brittany dance a lot of times. Often she waited for her to finish her class, sprawled on the benches lining one side of the studio, and she even attended a couple of dance classes before understanding she was much better off just watching her friend without actively participating.

But this… This was different. She had never seen the blonde so unleashed, so free and so…sexy. Her mind kept screaming at her that this was her best friend, the girl she had known her whole life, the little kid with pigtails who saved her from that duck. But in that moment the two images didn't overlap and all she could focus on were long legs and a lithe waist.

Louder than sirens

Louder than bells

Sweeter than heaven

And hotter than hell

Her hormones were in turmoil. Head swirling as if she had already drunk a whole keg of beer. She started to sweat in her short red devil dress without moving an inch. Suddenly, as if drawn by a soundless call, blue orbs found her dark ones. The stare was intense and she had to lick her suddenly dry lips, not caring one bit if her tongued removed some of the lipstick she carefully applied not more than an hour before.

It fills my head up

And gets louder and louder

When Puckerman pressed close to Brittany, much closer than appropriate, and caught her chin in one of his paws to catch her attention, Santana inadvertently clenched her hands until her knuckles turned white. Their staring contest was broken when finally the blonde turned her head towards the jock and the Latina was left with a sense of dread mounting from the pit of her stomach. She didn't understand what she was feeling, her emotion too jumbled and contrasting to make sense.

When Puck inched closer until he was a hair breath from the dancer's lips and wasn't pushed away immediately, Santana turned on her heels. She didn't realize what she was doing, the only certain thought was that she couldn't stand there and watch in silence. Putting an irate mask on to cover how she was truly feeling, she stormed outside. The crowd parted to let her pass. The first whispers broke through almost immediately, not caring if the subject could hear. The only one who noticed that Santana had not been watching Puck but his dance partner the whole time had been Quinn. She threw a puzzled glance at the brunette's back, her delicate features contorting in a frown.

The fresh air did nothing to lift Santana's spirits. With the sounds of the party subdued by the distance, the click of her heels on the tiles reverberated through the night. It echoed the breaking of the pieces of her heart. She stopped at the edge of the pool, staring for a second in the dark water. She couldn't recognize the girl staring back at her.

It wasn't the same girl who left her house not more than an hour before. She wondered for a moment at those feeling she was experiencing. They shouldn't exist. They couldn't. But somehow they did. The realization stuck her as lightning, leaving her trembling and scared. Terrified because it meant that things had to change for the better or the worse. As she reflected on their past, reanalyzing their friendship in a new light, she didn't hear the steps on another person getting closer. Only when a warm hand settled gently on her shoulder, she saw the blurring contours of another girl on the still surface of the pool.

The words however didn't match the gentleness of the touch and a steely command - or was it an advice? - was clear in the tone, even if unspoken. "Don't care too much, you can't allow it."

And with that the blonde was gone, leaving her to her thoughts.

In that instant she realized she had just lost her battles. She would always come second. She weighted her chances and with the recent scene replaying in her mind she took a decision. She would lose something in any case. And if she wanted to make it out of high school with her pride intact she had to lie, to everyone else, but mostly to herself. So she buried her feelings deep inside and plastered on her best impression of detachment.

Santana Lopez wasn't one to cry and cower. She squared her shoulders, clenched her jaw and with a determined glint in her eyes went back to the party. She would do what she had to do to prevent anyone else to overpower her. No one could know about her weakness.

Walking across the threshold she noticed everyone's gaze on her. Almost immediately she caught blue eyes stealing short glances her way from where their owner was talking to another Cheerio. Even from such a distance Santana could see the guilt swirling in them as clear as the day. She shook away the feelings they evoked and tried to stop her treacherous heart from jumping at the possibility of having them returned. It wasn't as easy as she first believed, so she tried to find a way to distract herself.

She noticed Puck flirting with another victim and she strolled over, confidence oozing from her pores. Less than a foot from them she cleared her throat, interrupting them without an ounce of remorse. With a glare she sent the girl scurrying away before turning furious dark eyes on him. He smirked, misinterpreting the cause of her jealousy.

She gripped the collar of his costume and crushed his mouth on hers. The taste of her still lingered and it spurred her on. With a moan she deepened the kiss, imagining softer lips and gentler hands around her waist.

People soon got bored and ignored them as if nothing had happened, but she could sense two pairs of eyes staring at her back.

The second they separated to breathe, she took some of the fringes on the lapels of his brown vest. An Indian, really? How unoriginal. She thought. But after all it was the only thing that matched his ridicule Mohawk.

Puck let himself be guided by the hot brunette towards the stairs without complaining. He high-fived a couple of jocks on the way stating how the Puckasaurus always scores.

The Latina ignored the tactless comments, focused on her task.

However blue eyes continued to haunt her and plague her thoughts even when they weren't physically on her anymore.

I go into the river

And I dive straight in

I pray that the water

Will drown out the din

With a heavy grunt he fell on top of her, crushing her with his weight. She pushed his sweaty body aside, continuing to stare at the ceiling as she had been since they started.

With a lazy and satisfied grin he asked. "It was good, babe. Wasn't it?"

She replied conjuring up a grin that however felt more like a grimace on her lips. "Yeah. Totally."

"I rocked your world, I know. No need to thank me for being the one to welcome you to the awesome world of sex." She continued to ignore him, starting to recollect her discarded clothes.

"How do you feel?" He then queried with a hint of worry, seeing as she remained so silent.

"Good." She left it at it and he didn't delve deeper.

"Okay." He finished putting back on his shoes before walking to the door. Before slipping into the corridor he glanced one last time back to her. "See you around, Santana."

Once completely dressed she sit on the bed, staring at the wall. "Empty. I feel empty." She whispered to the dark room. She was alone. Her heart throbbed in pain. That night she had lost so much more than what she thought she could ever lose before.

It swallows the sound and swallows me whole

Until there's nothing left inside my soul

I'm empty as that beating drum

But the sound has just begun

She soon started to sleep with a lot of guys. She never got attached, always dumping them before the meaningless sex could evolve in something more. Brittany behaved as badly, making out with almost the whole school. Their friendship stayed the same as it had always been, but beneath it all there was an uneasiness that there wasn't before. It was as somehow both were craving for something more, but they tried to find it somewhere else, as if it hadn't been within their reach all along.

No one, not even Santana, ever noticed that coincidentally the boy whom she decided to bed that night usually was one of those who had made out with the blonde not more than few minutes before. No one connected the dots between the two cheerleaders, but their hearts felt as if linked by an invisible thread that got shorter and shorter everyday.

Lima, 2 November 2009

Quinn's promotion to head-cheerleader didn't last long, with her being kicked out from the Cheerios for her pregnancy. Her position after her dethronement went immediately to the Latina. The blonde often wondered why Santana didn't spill everything to Sue the moment she knew about her condition.

The realization came to her one day during Spanish, watching her interact with Brittany. Since that one party the previous year she had seen the brunette distance herself forcibly from her best friend. But the moment they stepped inside the choir room to perform that song at the Coach's orders Santana slowly started behaving as she did before. It was as if being there, among all those misfits, gave her the strength to be more like herself. She could see it clearly, even with all the walls Santana put around herself. Sure, she was still her caustic self, but now she smiled when she was sure nobody was looking. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Looking at her helping Brittany with a gentleness reserved only for the dancer, right hand subconsciously playing with the blonde's ponytail while Brittany's left played with the red pleats of the brunette's skirt, made Quinn's heart constrict and jealousy swell inside her for a second. Sometimes she whished she had someone to be as close with as those two where. But as quickly as it arrived the feeling dispersed because she knew how risky their closeness was. She wasn't stupid, religious maybe, but not blind. Perhaps not to the untrained eye, but to her it was obvious how they felt about each other.

She understood how important was the red uniform for Santana. Brittany wouldn't think of the consequences, but Santana clearly did. She was a planner. She acknowledged that the only way to be closer to the blonde was staying in the Cheerios' ranks. Therefore she could continue to go to Glee without a daily slushie facial and behave without second guessing each move inside the choir room. Reporting Quinn would have only focused the spotlight on the Latina, without counting the reactions of the other cheerleaders, and she couldn't have that. Thus she showed that she deserved the position bestowed and did not steal it the first chance she got, backstabbing one of her friends.

Quinn had to give it to her. Santana wasn't as reckless as she could come across.

The next period she didn't think much of it as she observed them slink, pinkie in pinkie, into the girls' bathroom; that until her bladder made herself known, and she moved silently to the door that had just shut closed.

They were placed in such a manner that let her remain unnoticed. They were kissing with complete abandon, hands everywhere, never stopping in one place for too long; tangled in long hair, raking covered backs, gripping the nearest surfaces available for support. She took two steps back, exited silently and opened again the door, this time making unmistakable noises. When she walked inside they were staring at their reflection in the mirror, combing slightly mussed hair with nimble fingers as if nothing happened.

Quinn looked everywhere but in their eyes before locking herself inside a stall. Things had definitely changed since they had joined Glee. She just didn't realize they had evolved this much.

Lima, 31 October 2009

They had decided to forego the usual Halloween Party for a quiet night spent watching horror movies in the Latina's bed. Brittany lately was fixed on everything related to space and science fiction, so they picked the ones alien themed. They put aside the scariest to watch for last and started with Mars Attacks!.

It wasn't frightening at all, but they snuggled as close as they could under the covers anyway. Santana kept watching the blonde the whole time and her heart was beating wildly against her chest when the taller girl turned to her. "Are you scared? The good stuff hasn't started yet." Blue eyes caught the light emitted by the TV and sparkled bright in the otherwise dark room.

The Latina shook her head no and feigned interest in the images moving on the screen, but her heart rate didn't slow down in the least.

Once Brittany focused back on the movie, she resumed her previous task, mapping the contours of a fair face with adoring eyes. The beating doubled in intensity.

Suddenly a long leg settled between hers and she found intense eyes staring at hers from above. She clenched her fists to resist the temptation of touching pale and smooth skin.

The blonde had always been too observant and she couldn't afford a crack in her armor.

"What are you doing?" Santana whispered, her voice leaving her at the last word.

A blue gaze alternated between her chocolate orbs, as if looking for something in them. She must have found it because, not even a second later, soft lips pressed against her own. She stood still, eyes wide open, heart almost flying out of her ribcage, but did nothing to stop the blonde. After what seemed an eternity the gentle touch of the tip of a skilled tongue coaxed them open. As their tongues battled for dominance the Latina closed her eyes, lost to the feeling. In that moment she couldn't recall for the life of her why she had fought this for so long.

As in autopilot her hips raised from the bed, finding friction against a smooth leg, and making both of them groan at the sensation.

While they caught their breaths a smirk formed on swollen lips.

"What?" Santana rasped.

"Alien invasion." And threw the covers over their heads before capturing again her lips in a searing kiss.

Their moans of pleasure mixed with the shouts and screams of terror coming from the TV.

As I move my feet

Towards your body

I can hear this beat

It fills my head up

And gets louder and louder

It didn't matter how many times she had already done this. In that moment she was certain of one thing only: it had never been like this before. None of those guys could make her feel even remotely like this one girl could.

She could sense the pressure rising inside of her like a wave. She tried to resist but she wasn't able to. Her heart was beating like a drum, stronger and faster, pumping her blood through her body in a mad pace. She closed her eyes at the intense pleasure and clawed at the sheets, not caring in the least if they tore up with the force she was using. She shook her head from side to side until a warm hand stilled her. She stared into endless pits of blue and she lost herself to the feeling. She arched her back off the bed and threw her head back in a soundless scream. All she heard for a second was the blood rushing in her hears.

It fills my head up

And gets louder and louder

And then silence.

New York, 12 September 2016

Regrets collect like old friends

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

A key turned inside the lock and the door was swung open.

"Honey, I'm home!" The sarcastic greeting went unnoticed, so the person in question moved further inside the apartment, looking for signs of life.

"Whoo! Is there anyone here?" A growl followed the lack of response. "I know you're here Satan, Millie said you had taken the day off with months' notice and one day is not enough to leave the city and visit home. Then…"

The footsteps moved to the living room. "…Here you are."

A groan originated from under the mass of covers on the couch. "Go 'way." An arm lifted and gestured toward the door.

"No. Your place is so lovely; I want to stay here." And with that another weight settled on the piece of furniture.

"Move, asshole! You're squishing me." The brunette ordered in a gruff tone.

"Okay. But what you're doing? Watching Real Housewives?" Blue eyes squinted at the screen. "Oh, a concert. I would have preferred a musical." A hand moved to take the remote, but the glare the action caused, made that hand stop midair. "Or not…"

"Don't you have anywhere else to be? Don't know, singing or pissing off someone else…or jumping off buildings… If you want the window is right there. Fell free to use it."

The scathing comment didn't faze the newcomer in the least.

"Is this the dvd from last Beyoncé's tour?"

This observation gained a caustic remark from Santana, who finally gave him some attention. "What do you want, St. James? And most importantly, how did you enter in my house? I don't remember giving you a copy of the keys…"

"And you didn't." He smirked with pride at his revelation. "I stole them a couple of weeks ago when I crashed here after that night of partying." The glare he received would have turned a lesser man to hashes.

They both turned their eyes back to the screen. After several minutes when the only sounds were the ones coming from the surround system, the Latina whispered so quietly that if the volume was only a decibel higher he wouldn't have been able to hear it over the noise.

"Do you ever wish you had done things differently?" He turned a concerned stare on her, but she kept hers fixed on the screen.

"Always." He replied, truthful for once.

"Me too." She called back, eyes glued on the dancers moving in the background.

He thought about asking more, but the glimpse of familiar blonde hair and tall frame made him shut his mouth with a snap.

They spent the rest of the morning watching the rest of the concert in silence. When they reached the credits he stretched his arms high above his head and with a grunt stood up. "Come on. I'm hungry. There's the Italian restaurant down the street calling my name."

Santana kept staring at the now blank screen. "Go. No one is stopping you."

"But I want to go with you." He tried to pull her up, but she wiggled out of his grip the second her feet touched the ground.

"I told you no!" She shouted, clearly distressed.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Santana…" The other girl diverted her eyes and stared resolutely at the ground. He sighed. "Okay. Then I'm going to buy some take away and come back here. How about that?"

A stiff nod was all the answer he needed; he wore the jacket he left on the back of a chair, pocketing keys and cellphone. He was with one foot out the door when the Latina called back. "Jess!"

He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. "Thanks." He closed the door with a half smile on his lips.

He arrived at the restaurant whistling a song from the musical he was the lead in. Waiting for his orders he glanced at the other patrons around the room. There weren't many, mostly groups of colleagues on their lunch break. He was about to start flirting with the cute waitress behind the counter when a flash of blonde caught his attention.

There she was.

He wasn't sure at first, but when the waiter arrived at her table, she turned her head in his direction. She wasn't that different from how he remembered her in high school. She was dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirt that clashed horribly, as if she had thrown over her dancing gear the first clothes she could find. He was about to move in her direction and invent something on the spot, the first excuse that came to mind, to make her follow him, when he got informed that his order was ready. He paid for the food and when he turned around she wasn't alone anymore. Jess then noticed for the fist time that the table was set for two. When the blonde kissed the newcomer on the lips, with a heavy heart he turned to the door and stepped foot on the streets.

Just as he was about to exit from view blue eyes followed his silhouette until he vanished from sight.

Brittany frowned for a second, tilting her head and trying to recall where she had already seen that nest of gelled hair when a warm hand covered her own on the table and she reluctantly turned her attention to her companion.

And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh

But I like to keep some things to myself

I like to keep my issues drawn

It's always darkest before the dawn

When Jess opened the door sounds of laughter and notes of an old song greeted him. He put the bags on the table, before walking to the living room. Santana was watching old tapes taken after the Glee Club won Nationals her senior year. All the teenagers where goofing and dancing around while Berry poured her soul to the bedazzled microphone of the karaoke machine.

The sight of such carefree happiness didn't match with the tears streaming down tan cheeks.

And I've been a fool and I've been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

"She was completely out of tune. My ears are bleeding!" He shouted theatrically clutching his head.

She rolled her eyes and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You're impossible."

He nodded. "Yes. Impossibly sexy." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on or the food gets cold."

"What did you take?"

"Stand up and you'll see."

She shook her head. "Take it here."

"Okay." And he left to retrieve the various boxes. Just as he rounded the corner he saw her hide a picture under the cushions. When he got back she had dried her tear tracks and tied her hair up, her insecurities and her pain hidden behind a solid mask.

Once they had finished and put away the empty containers, he thought it was time to address the issue at hand.

"Care to tell my why I found you in this state?" He asked feigning disinterest.

"No." The answer was dry and left no room for objections.

"Do you want to go out? We can get drunk…"

Again he was met with refusal. He sighed in frustration at her stubbornness.

"But we can get drunk here." She added. "One of my clients gave me a bottle of whisky as a gift. It must be top shit from the looks of it."

"Okay, but only because I can't say no to alcohol, especially when expensive." She rolled her eyes at his cheekiness and went to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle.

Jess seized the occasion to look for the picture. If before he had no intention to spill his previous encounter to the Latina, now the snapshot in his hand only cemented his decision. The edges were worn, obviously not from age but from the constant use, nonetheless the image was clear. The couple portrayed was smiling at each other lovingly. He had never seen Santana with such an adoring expression. Footsteps alerted him of her arrival and he quickly put the picture in its previous place.

Before downing his glass Jess made a toast. "To the future, because we can't keep living in the shadow of the past."

She echoed his words, noticing his satisfied look. "To the future." And with that drank hers. After all she could pretend, if not for herself, for his peace of mind, because all she had left was a past which became further away everyday.

"Now to my awesomeness!" His words broke the Latina from her gloomy thoughts and evoked a surprised laugh from her.

They spent their afternoon drinking and making sarcastic comments on the shows aired on TV. The following morning, the last thing she remembered from that night was the two of them singing their hearts out.

He kept spurring her on. "Shake it out!"

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, oh woah

Maybe she couldn't forget, but she could at least survive like this until her day came. She kneeled on stiff legs and with a trembling hand she pushed rebellious curls from Jess' temple and covered his sprawled out form with the blanket that had fallen to the ground during the night. She pushed herself up leaning her right hand on the arm of the couch and with a last glance to the sleeping man she exited the door.

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off, oh woah

Not too far away from the Latina's apartment a blonde had just woken up. For the first time after several months she wasn't alone in bed when she opened her eyes. She snuggled closer to the warm body next to her and thought back to the previous night, before falling asleep again.

And I am done with my graceless heart

So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

Cause I like to keep my issues drawn

It's always darkest before the dawn

Their night had been perfect. In spite of the painful memories the current date resurrected, she had managed to make it through the day and even to have fun. The person in front of her made her forget about her past and finally when she closed her eyes she didn't see dark and deep orbs staring back at her, framed by thick long lashes.

It wasn't tan smooth skin sliding against hers and dark ringlets framing prominent cheekbones she saw in the dim lightning inside a bedroom that wasn't her own. It wasn't the spicy taste she associated with the Latina she savored licking a long neck and it wasn't her raspy voice calling her name in the throes of passion. For the first time she was okay with that, even if her treacherous heart kept hurting inside her ribcage. However the drumming that before was loud and clear, one name echoing with each beat, now kept getting fainter and fainter.