Santana wasn't a lovely person; she was vicious, cruel and selfish. She got that far in her career by being very strict and sharp-tongued. Nothing fazed her, nothing. She never had a love life, because she said it was a weakness. She was proud of who she was; a pretty Mexican who arrived in Europe with a bag, wanting to travel and see the world. She worked in some shitty restaurants, trying to make a name for herself. And then, Charles Anderson saw her; he saw her tan skin, her black hair and her fierce attitude. That woman wanted to do something big in her life, Charles knew it and he appreciated it about her because she reminded him of himself when he wanted to build an empire. He also admired her drive and her ambition. And her body, too. It was a couple of years ago, but he offered her the job as the chef in the Casablanca's and with that, he promised her great things, like her own TV show. She was now devoted to him.
-X-
''… and now, you pour the wine in here and you wait until it's boiling. Then, it's going to do the sauce. If you want it to get thinker, you…''
''Add some flour,'' Kurt answered, adding the flour into the pan. Santana looked at him, arching an eyebrow.
''You know, I really don't know why you beg to have a teaching lesson with me,'' she shook her head, continuing to mix the sauce. ''You know everything there is to know in a kitchen.''
''Yes, but I wanted to have some quality time with a friend.''
''We could've have gone shopping, you know,'' she said with a smirk. ''The show is in a couple of days.''
''I know! I'm so excited,'' he exclaimed. ''I've never been in a fashion show before.''
Santana replied that he didn't miss that much, anyways.
When the hot liquid was ready, Kurt tasted the sauce with a spoon and moaned.
''Mm… this is so good!''
''Everything I cook is always good,'' she shrugged. ''This is going perfectly with the chicken I'm doing.'' She placed the pan aside, turning off the heat. Kurt went to the pantry and grabbed the flour, sugar, salt and then went to the big metallic fridge and grabbed the milk and cream.
''I don't know what I'm going to wear,'' he huffed, pouring the milk in a big bowl. I have to look gorgeous. Not too casual, but not too classy either,'' he said.
''You already look gorgeous, Pretty Boy,'' she said and Kurt smiled at her, appreciating her comment.
''Yeah, well more than normal.'' He shrugged with a smirk.
''You want to impress a man?'' she teased, smiling.
''Maybe…'' he murmured.
''Boy, it's only been two weeks and you still can't it into your pants.''
''Like you can talk,'' he rolled his eyes. ''And Blaine…'' he bites his lips and gushed about him, ''Blaine's just lovely and charming. I mean, I enjoy spending time with him. He asked me to be his date for the fashion show.''
Santana put her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow. ''Blaine? As in Blaine Anderson?'' she asked. Kurt nodded, whisking his milk and flour.
''What do you know about him and his family?'' he suddenly asked, ''I mean… I don't want to seem nosy, but I'm just curious, you know? When we're together, he always wants to know things about my life, but I barely really know him.
Santana was silent for a moment. ''Blaine is… pretty quiet about his life.''
She went to the other wooden table to cut his chicken while talking. ''His father got me this job when I was only 21. Now, I'm 26. This hotel holds a special place in that family, so they come here every summer. It's kind of a tradition. Charles sees his golfing buddies and Maggie enjoys some months away from the big city. When I first came here, Charles introduced me to his sons and daughter; he said I must be lonely in this country, which was true. At first, I became friends with Patrick and Daniel, because we were around the same age, then Christian. But I soon understand that there were jerks and Beatrice, the little angel of the family? She was and still is a little slut. Then, I came close with Blaine. He was such a sweet boy, only turning 16. He was charming, kind and funny. He wasn't like his brothers. And we became friends.'' A dark look came over Santana's face, but she was quick to replace it with a smile. Kurt had stopped what he was doing and looked at her, frowning.
''I didn't think his brothers were like that. And Beatrice was lovely.''
''Yeah, well, that was first impression.'' She quickly changed the subject, wanting to know what he was making.
''My speciality, a French classic; Chou à la crème!'' he said, proudly.
''Nobody can beat my cream puffs,'' Santana declared.
''You may be a chef, Santana, but I'll be one…'' Kurt stopped talking, looking at his bowl while he whisked, eyes empty.
''When you what, Pumpkin?'' Santana asked, sensing the change in her friend.
''I… never mind,'' he murmured. He tried to keep the tears at bay, but the walls he built around him crumbled. A few tears fell from his eyes. Santana gasped and approached Kurt, tapping him in the back in a very awkward motion. She never was a shoulder to cry on, but for Kurt, she could make an exception.
''Hey, why are you crying?'' she asked in a surprisingly gentle tone.
''I'll never be a chef,'' he declared, stopping what he was doing with the dessert.
''Of course, you will. I told you, to be a good one, you need to be a bitch and don't be…''
''No!'' he yelled. Santana looked at him with wide eyes. ''I'm dying,'' he murmured. Santana was silent and the only indication that shows that she heard what he said was her shaky breath.
''What?'' she whispered.
''A couple of weeks ago, I got diagnostic with cancer. Several tumors in my brain. The doctor said I had a couple of months left.''
''But… but you look fine!'' she said, shocked.
''And I feel fine, too. But it doesn't matter. The doctor was clear. That's why I'm here. I've always wanted to… to meet you and to live the life of a prince for a change.'' He shrugged. ''I know I'm selfish about leaving my family behind, but I… I didn't want to spend my last months in hospital or Rachel looking at me like I was a kicked puppy. But please, Santana. Don't say a word about it, please! I'm having so much fun here with you guys and… Blaine. Don't tell Blaine. I don't want him to hang out with me out of pity.''
Santana opened his month to say something, anything. But she couldn't find the words. Instead, she nodded slowly. Kurt signed deeply.
''Thank you, Santana. I… don't want that knowledge to get in the way of our friendship, okay? I… I want to live normally as long as I can.'' Santana nodded again with, this time, teary eyes.
``You are so strong,'' she croaked out.
-X-
''You were right. Those are delicious!'' Santana moaned while she took a bite of his Chou à la crème with chocolate on top.
''I told you,'' he said smugly. They didn't forget their last conversation, but as it was Kurt's wish to drop it and acting like nothing happened, than Santana would drop it too. Of course, not completely, because now Santana saw his friend in a new light, but she didn't push the issue. He stood up from the kitchen floor where he and Santana devoured some Chou à la Crème and packed the rest in Tupperware's. He did the same with the chicken that Santana prepared into sandwiches earlier this evening.
''I know that I'm an excellent chef, but I know we didn't prepare all that stuff for nothing. My snobby clientèle don't do sandwiches,'' she joked, although it was true. Kurt smiled at her and put the Tupperware's in his bag.
''I'm going into town. There's some homeless people there and I want to bring them good food.'' Santana looked at him strangely, ''you do that?'' she asked, surprised.
''Well, yeah. I actually enjoy it,'' he replied coolly.
''Don't get me wrong. It's honorable. It's just quite rare, you know? I mean, people here go to the spa and believe that their lives are complete,'' she said.
''Those people deserve to eat, too.'' He shrugged. ''It's not my fault if Charles Anderson is too caught up in his ass to see what's going on in the world.''
He smiled at her and waved her goodbye, but she took him by the elbow. ''Wait,'' she said. ''Can I come, too?'' she asked, shyly. Kurt only nodded eagerly, happy to go with someone for a change.
When Kurt led the way out of the hotel and Santana made sure that the kitchen doors were locked, she looked at him with a knowing smile. She might be mean with everyone and self-centered, but when it came to her true and loyal friends, she could make an exception for them.
-X-
It was fashion night and for Kurt, it was nerve-wracking. He spent the last two hours to dress himself and then undressed and redressed again. He did his hair for the hundred times, opting for the coiffed hair with just enough spray in it.
He looked glamorous, but not flashy.
He was gorgeous, but just enough.
At 7:00, he heard a knock on his door and inhaled deeply. He looked one last time in the grand mirror near his bed and walked with a spring in his steps. He opened the door and forgot to breathe for a moment. Blaine was standing tall, looking as handsome as ever with a charming smile. He looked Kurt up and down and grinned widely.
''Kurt,'' he said breathlessly. ''You look great,''
''Thanks,'' he said. ''I went to go shopping with the girls this week. You were right, Bern was the right place to go.'' He smoothed his slacks nervously for any invisible wrinkles. He dared a look at Blaine but seeing the intense look in those hazel eyes made him blush and couldn't stop the thoughts of when he got a massage and the illusion he had of him massaging his back tenderly, kissing his neck…
''So, are you ready to go?'' Blaine asked. Kurt gulped and nodded vigorously.
Kurt was very handsome, indeed. He spent all Thursday choosing what he was going to wear and just bought anything he thought he should wear. He was wearing a gray cotton vest with a V-neck and a white dress shirt underneath but it only showed the collar with a tie. The vest was mostly covered by a black coat and his skinny jean were a beautiful and pale pink salmon color that went well with his skin. To make it complete, he bought brown frye's men harness booths.
Blaine was darker than Kurt with his classic black suit with his hair impeccably gelled back and his silk shoes. He reminded Kurt of the Man in Black, aka Johnny Cash in his time when he refused to wear anything but black. It suited Blaine remarkably well and he looked classy, yet mysterious with a hint of a bad boy, even though the kind smile he threw at Kurt at times deflected this impression.
When they arrived at the fashion show, music was booming. The show, like every year, was held in the ball room of the hotel. Only the people above 21 were able to come in and only the residents of the hotel were allowed to come, even though the event draws more the youth.
Blaine nodded at the bodyguard near the door who was there to prevent any conflict and/or the teenagers who'd want to get a sneak peek inside.
''He's with me,'' Blaine said to the rather large man. The man looked Kurt up and down and arched an eyebrow.
''He's like sixteen'' the large man said with a monotone voice.
''Hey!'' Kurt said indignantly. ``I'm nineteen and…''
''…And that's why I told you he's with me,'' Blaine cut in with a hard voice. ''Would you like me to get my dad? I'm sure he'd have a pleasure in firing your ass.'' The man didn't say anything. He merely nodded his bald head and Blaine took Kurt's hand and went inside with a huff.
''Aren't you a little too harsh with that man?'' Blaine shrugged and shook his head.
''You need to get your point across, Kurt.'' He simply said. ''I'm sorry if it bothered you,''
''It's okay.'' Kurt looked around the room for the first time since he entered and his breath caught in his throat. ''Wow…'' he murmured. The place was stunning. It was beautifully decorated with sober tones and they were a sparkling white catwalk and a gigantic buffet was lining up the farthest wall when he could see Santana working on the tables with the food and yelling orders to the other cooks. People were already seated around the catwalk and some other people were chatting in little groups with flutes of champagne.
''Well,'' Blaine said after a moment, ''I don't see my family anywhere, but the show is about to start. Come on, I have some of the best seats.'' Kurt lets him lead the way, still looking around, speechless. There was reporters and designers all seated, looking serious and all business-like.
Kurt never saw a fashion show in his life and always wanted to. He loved the atmosphere, the cameras that were ready for the models, the lights and the people who tried as hard as him to impress with their clothes. He was with people who finally understood him, understood his passion and knew how important things like that were.
When the show was finished, the designers were greeted by applause and Kurt, trying to look composes while clasping politely with a cool expression like his pairs did, in the inside, he was exploding. Blaine and Kurt stood up and the curly-haired boy led the way to the buffet.
''So, did you like that?'' Blaine asked with an excited smile.
''Oh my god, Blaine!'' Kurt exclaimed. ''I've never seen a fashion show in my entire life! This was perfect. The clothes, the models… I mean, it was simply gorgeous.''
''And you wait,'' Blaine said, giving Kurt a flute of champagne. ''The night is not over yet and speaking of gorgeous, you are the one that is gorgeous,'' he murmured, drinking from his drink, still looking at Kurt from aside.
''Stop it,'' he said, blushing and smiling bashfully.
''You're blushing.'' Blaine gushed ''It's cute. How come you're always blushing when I say something nice to you?'' he asked. Kurt merely shrugged.
''I'm just not used to it.''
''Well, get used to it with me.'' He winked and laughed at the deep red of Kurt's cheeks. The ballroom wasn't dark, so it was easy to see it.
''Ah, Blaine,'' a voice came from behind them. ''You decided to come, at last.'' They turned around to see Charles, accompanied by his wife, Maggie, whom gave the boys a kind smile. ''Kurt,'' he nodded towards the pale boy whom nodded in return. Even though the awkward diner he had with Blaine's father, Kurt was still awestruck to see such a powerful business man like him in front of him.
''Hi dad,'' Blaine nodded coolly. ''Hi, mum,'' he said, leaning down to kiss his mum on her cheek.
''Are you enjoying yourself, boys?'' she asked. She approached Kurt and took his arm. ''And you Kurt,'' she said in a motherly voice ''Did you enjoy the show? Blaine told me earlier that it was your first fashion show. Did you enjoy it?''
''Yes, Ma'am.''
''Call me Maggie,'' she told him and a giggled. ''Did you see my daughter up there?''
He saw her, indeed. She saw her long legs, her strut and her aggressive and sensual attitude. She didn't look like the little angel anymore, but pretty every guy in the room had a boner.
''She's beautiful, Maggie,'' he said politely. ''You must be proud.''
''I am. She'll go in New York soon to pursue her career in fashion.'' And she continued talking about everything and anything. She was very sweet, quite the opposite of her husband who was stoic and looked at Kurt up and down like he was some vermin ready to get crushed. As Maggie talked with Maggie, Charles too the opportunity to speak with his son a little bit further.
''So, tell me, Blaine,'' Charles said to his youngest son, ''I didn't see you a lot this week. You spent all this time with Kurt, I presume?''
''Yes, dad.''
''Oh, I see. But I hope this isn't going to be the way you spent all your summer. Give a little time to you family, too,'' he reprimanded, ''Think about your mom.''
''Mom Is alright, dad. I spend more time with her than you ever did, anyways.'' Blaine retorted, eyes flashing with anger.
Charles nodded, clearly annoyed. He didn't like the tone Blaine used with him in a public place like this, but he let it slide. He knew, by experience, that Blaine could do worse if he wasn't please and Charles didn't want to ruin a big night like this that meant so much for the apple of his eye, Beatrice. He'd be damned if Blaine ruined this to his big sister.
He clenched his jaw and breathed deeply.
''Very well. I hope for you own good, and for this family, that you are going to keep this boy hidden.''
''Hidden, dad?'' Blaine asked, arching an eyebrow with a slyly smirk.
''Yes,'' he responded firmly, ''I don't appreciate that you flaunt your little… relationships for everyone to see and the last one with those two men was the last warning. Do you know how I looked in front of my friends the next morning? I was so embarrassed' He said calmly, no wanting to attracted attention from the crowed. ''Take example on your brothers and sister. Patrick is getting married to a lovely girl, Blaine. Don't you want to get married? Find a nice boy. You know I don't care about your sexuality, but stop with all of this.''
Blaine rolled his eyes, bored with his father's speech. He already heard it.
''But you are a stubborn kid so of course you won't listen to me. So if you are going to keep doing this with that new boy, than it stays in the bedroom! Don't remind me what happened two years ago in France, Blaine.''
He remembered France alright. The family went to one of the Casablanca's hotels in France, at Lyon. Blaine pursued a French boy, there. His name was Jean-François Lavallée and he had a French accent to die for, so they fucked and if Blaine remembered correctly, it was one of the best fucks he ever had. The way the boy screamed in French ''Oui, oui, oui! Baise-moi, encore! Plus fort! Har-derr!'' Blaine was just going nuts with lust. They got caught in one of the pools of the hotel doing the deed and the next morning, it was in the magazines all over the world. The first and real faux-pas of Blaine Anderson. Charles had never forgotten his son to be so careless. It was in the morning very early, so Blaine said that he didn't suspect anyone to be there, and it was in a seclude spot; he defended himself, but in vain.
''What made you so sure that I want him? We are just friends, dad,'' Blaine said innocently.
''I'm not idiot, Blaine,'' his father huffed, ''You don't know friendships with boys.''
Charles looked over Blaine's shoulder and saw some of his friends. They waved at him and he nodded, than glared at his son.
''I have to greet some people, Blaine. But please, son, stay out of trouble.''
-X-
After the encounter with his dad, his mood was pretty low and he needed a cigarette. He looked at Kurt who was now chatting happily with Mercedes, a good friend of his since a few years so he guessed he could make an escape for a couple of minutes.
Once outside in the gardens, he lit a cigarette and leaned against a bench near a fountain. The water in the fountain made a quiet sound; it was relaxing. There were no one out there, just him, the night and the stars. He exhaled the smoke and closed his eyes.
''I hope this is not what I think it is,'' a voice said right next to him. Blaine opened his eyes nonchalantly.
''Hey, Santana. Want a cig?''
''I'm on my break, but I don't have time.''
''Suit yourself,'' he shrugged. ''Your food is delicious tonight, good job,'' he said, still looking at the sky.
''My food is always good.'' She scoffed. ''I saw you are here with Kurt tonight,'' she said harshly with a low voice. Blaine looked at her then and arced an eyebrow.
''And…?''
''And I hope this is not what I think it is.''
''What you talking about?'' he said, sitting on the edge of the fountain.
''Don't play dumb with me, Blaine,'' she crossed her arms. ''Kurt is now my friend and I've never seen a kid so kind and compassionate and… and…'' She choked on her words, remembering the conversation she had with him earlier this week. ''He doesn't deserve you playing with him,'' she finally said, trying hard not to let the tears slide down her face. It was dark, so Blaine couldn't see her flushed face. Her face hardened. ''He went here to have a good time, not to get heartbroken.''
''What's with people today?'' Blaine asked no one, rolling his eyes and signed deeply. ''I quit the game.'' Santana arched an eyebrow and smirked coyly.
''I don't believe you,''
''Well, it's true,'' Blaine lied, looking directly into her dark eyes to get his point across. He stood up from the bench and was face to face with his friend. ''My brothers wanted me to play with this kid.'' He shrugged. ''You know my brothers, right? And I was thrilled, at first, because they wanted me to do it. You know how this game is like a tradition between us and they finally wanted me to do it, but then, when I see this kid, I didn't want to do it anymore. And no, it wasn't Kurt. Some blond guy who's here with his family,'' he lied easily. ''I realized that this game wasn't for me. I mean, San, I'm not that cruel. I prefer to sleep with some guy that knows it's just a one night stand, so I told my brothers. End of story. Happy, now?'' He put on his best resigned face and Santana studied his face with a hard expression.
''And how's your whore of brothers take it? I mean, it's so important in your family,'' she said in a mocking voice, ''So, who's going to take your place? Is it womanizer Patrick who's getting married in less than a few months, or is it druggie Christian? Or maybe Daniel with his love child?'' she challenged him.
''Quiet, Santana!'' Blaine hushed her harshly. ''This is my brothers and I'd like you to respect them,'' he ordered. ''Don't talk shit about things you don't understand'' Santana merely rolled her eyes.
''Oh, Blaine, I do understand who they are and what they do to pass the time,''
Blaine looked at her in silent, and then puffed his smoke.
''To answer your question, I think the game is still on, but I'm not a part of it anymore.''
''And Kurt…''
''Kurt's just a friend I met him a few days ago near the stables and you have to believe me when I say that my intentions with him are more than honorable,'' he quietly responded, turning to face his friend once again. Santana's face softened.
''Of course I believe you, Blaine. You're my best friend and I know you'll be kind to him. I just… never mind, okay? Don't worry about him,'' she said, putting a hand on his shoulder as his legs touched the fountain to lean against it.
''Kurt is just so fun to be around and so easy to talk. I only know him not so long ago and it feels like I knew him for such a long time, you know?'' Santana smiled gently at him.
''I know. Now, I know someone who's dying to spend the rest of the evening with you,'' she said, nodding towards the hotel where they could hear the booming music inside. Blaine smiled at her and walked ahead, thinking how this was so, so easy to lie.