Santana and Johnny and... Brittany?

(Santana)

I opened my eyes with the movement in my bed. Johnny was standing and he was never subtle. The impression I had is that he hopped out of the mattress. My boyfriend was clumsy for many things. It was unbelievable how he have sensitivity to make the most perfect tattoos on the skin of someone, an art in which he couldn't go wrong in any way. Johnny had an amazing taste to enjoy drinks and tidbits about to argue with any chef. Not that he has done so ever. Like Quinn, he had an incredible eye for details. He was passionate when we talk about music. His theory is that nothing good is produced today. In a way, I need to agree with him because I don't like much the current pop music.

Unlike me, Rachel and Mike, who were hardcore Democrats, and Quinn, who was Republican, Johnny had undeclared political party. He had an almost corporate vision of politics: analyzing the proposals and made a reflection of what he thought would be good for the country at that moment. Then voted without commotion, unpainted face and without using the colors of the parties shirts. In my preparation to take a large company, my posture should be almost the same, except that I should look at who would benefit my business better. But I still didn't have that coldness of thought.

Johnny had no problems with skin color, social status, religions or sexual orientation of people. Perfect man, right? Far from it. The same Johnny so coordinated to draw, was a mess with his feet. He's stumbling on something, he wasn't good at any sports with a ball, was afraid of driving and he dances like David Boreanaz (actually, this is gold). My boyfriend had serious family problems, and sometimes I think Johnny is the kind of person who may suffer from depression.

He had habits that sometimes conflicted with some of mine. Johnny wasn't ambitions and I prepared to deal with real problems with more than seven digits. He had socialist thought and I was a capitalist. He was Beatles, I was Rolling Stones. He liked European cinema, I liked blockbusters. He was the whiskey class, and I was the beer class. I liked peanuts (both peanuts), he liked pumpkin seed. He didn't like sci-fi and fantasies series, but I loved it. I prefer music videos, and he liked watching music shows. I read economy editorials, he read about arts. He loved comedies, I enjoyed adventures. Sometimes he irritates me and I want to kick him on his balls. On the other hand, I love when he just keep me company and these moments were far from rare, to my joy.

Sometimes this bothers me, but it's like Quinn used to say: he's the first person I let into my true intimacy since Brittany, which requires adjustments and time.

"Morning!" Johnny kissed me when he saw that I was awake, after he returned from the bathroom. He was naked because that's how we slept after our sexual activities. I avoided calling my boyfriend to sleep the whole night in my apartment because I liked having the bed to myself. At the beginning, when Rachel went to Los Angeles, it was terrible stay alone in that huge apartment. Johnny often showed up to sleep with me. And Quinn, when I had to rescues her in a pub. But then I got used to having my little corner all to myself and didn't want to lose this privilege anytime soon. That didn't mean I didn't like to see my boyfriend naked and in my bed once while. He had a beautiful ass and a fit body.

"Good morning." I said watching Johnny wearing his pants.

"What are you doing today?"

"Routine." I threw the sheet aside. "I'll take a ride now, take care of Rock'n'Pano and then study."

"I thought you are taking this Saturday off." Johnny looked pointedly at my body and stroked the side of my breast. I like his touch, but it wasn't time. I pushed his hand.

"Not now, Johnny Boy. You tired me off last night, and I still have work to do." I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I hated other people seeing me do my needs. It was something unnecessary in my book of intimacy boundaries. "Will you work today?" I asked loud for him to hear me through the door.

"Yeah, but not in the studio. I need to do one last check on my book before send the files to my editor."

"Do you need to go right now?"

"If you want me to."

"I was thinking on jogging a little bit in the Central Park."

"That, I can do."

I left the bathroom wrapped in my robe, wear my panties and left the room. Johnny followed me into the kitchen to fix the breakfast: nothing but a piece of plain cake, juice and a banana.

"So…" He asked after our light breakfast, jogging or riding a bike?"

"Bike! But you can't run ahead…"

Johnny took Rachel's old pink bike. It was amazing and funny seeing a guy like him in a girly bike, even though he had a great sense of humor about it. I liked to work out with him because Johnny pushes me more, especially at the time we stop to do some push-ups and sit-ups. The problem is that I didn't t always enjoyed his methodology. I put an outfit: fitness pants, cotton shirt with Blondie print, shoes, ponytail and dark aviator glasses, because I was a badass.

While we were going toward Central Park, Johnny slowed down, and pedaled as if he were my guardian, but when we arrived, he behaving changed and he tried to challenge me all the time, even at that stupid pink bicycle with basket. From the second round, Johnny began to accelerate and ignore me. It was my weak: competition. Johnny did it to instigate me, I could feel. I started to speed up. But as I reached him, he forced further just to tease me. It drove me crazy. If he wanted real competition, that was exactly what he would get. And my bike was way better.

"Asshole!" I shouted so I passed him. I looked back and stuck my tongue.

"San!" He shouted. "Brake!"

When I looked forward, I was on a collision course with another cyclist who was standing on the track for some reason. I braked but it was too late. We collided and I fell. When I realized, had bike on top of me, a woman underneath and a totally confused scene. Johnny appeared in my field of vision and looked terrified.

"Are you okay?" He took the bike on top of me and helped me and the woman to get up carefully. He held my hand and that's when I realized the pain.

Part of my leg was scratched, my right arm elbow too and may have broken a finger for the hell of pain I felt. Fuck. Just fuck!

"A thousand pardons." Despite the pain, I said almost begging for the woman, actually a cyclist with traditional uniform, shoes, helmet and friendless expression. "I'm so sorry..." I barely noticed I was crying in pain by because of the finger.

"It should look where you're going." She said on an understandable bad mood. She was also slipped, but the one who took the worst was me. "And you should also go to a hospital, girl. Look at your hand."

"I'm sorry too." Johnny said. "The fault is entirely mine because I distracted her doing a silly joke that hence the accident. You can blame me and to sue me if you want." He gave her his card, who softened her features.

"Gee… that's what you get when you're riding your girlfriend's bike."

"Actually, that's her sister's, and I agree with you. My girlfriend here is mean."

"Well, I didn't get hurt as your girl." The cyclist frowned. "And seems that my bike didn't break anything. But if I need to do some repair…" She looked at the card. "John Hall Jr… I'll call you."

"It's totally fair, mrs…"

"Gabriela Buck."

"Gabriela Buck?" I said. "You're Gabriela Buck… the owner of PinkyBriders?" It was a company organizing wedding parties of all kinds: the most traditional to the most colorful and innovative. My finger was throbbing, but, hey, she had a strong name in the market and I actually read it in a magazine. I heard she was expanding her services to Los Angeles and Las Vegas.

"Why? Are you getting married?" It looked like she was approached by many couples out there.

"No... I have read… about your company... in Business Week." I spoked pausing the words because of the pain.

"A beautiful young woman who reads about business? That's not so usual." Now she seemed curious.

"Santana Berry-Lopez." I introduced myself.

"Berry-Lopez… wait… The Santana Berry-Lopez? Are you Caleb Weiz's granddaughter?"

"Oh, you know him…" Damn it, Mr. Weiz!

"Yes, his one of my father's closest friends. I heard about you. You're running a small internet company just for fun, right?" Just for fun? Fuck you, lady!

"Yes, Rock'n'Pano."

"Yes, yes… I heard." I was surprised, but there was not time for a social conversation. I was in pain. "If you and to talk to me about business or whatever, call me." And she gave me her card.

"Thank you… but I do need a hospital…"

We said goodbye even there. We took a shortcut to the hospital with Johnny taking the two bikes while I protected my finger allegedly broken and limp. Johnny was frowning.

"You should release a book of how an accident can become a business opportunity." He said in disbelief tone.

Two hours later, I was sitting at a stretcher waiting the doctor to fix my middle finger. It had a little fracture and the bone was dislocated. The doctor came. Looked again the x-ray. Examined my throbbing finger, took my hand and smiled. In the next second I screamed. Load. I think I also saw stars. A few tears later, I was back to the street on the way home with the middle finger of my left hand immobilized. Johnny carried the two bicycles in silence. The path wasn't that far, but all these events made us get home close to noon. And I had work to do.

"I'll never provoke you on a bike again." Johnny seemed more sad and tired than me.

"Johnny..." I sighed. "I'm not angry with you, but if you continue the whining, I'll kick your beautiful ass."

We ordered Chinese and had lunch in silence, I took a shower before work and study, and Johnny took his path. I wasn't mad at him, yet I wouldn't want to see him in the next three days because everything that happened was complete his fault. Or rather, in the next two days since I couldn't stay more than this without seeing or speaking to him.

So I went to the office and began to work and study.

After hours on the books, I decided to rest. My body was tired, my finger was throbbing and my mind sleepy. How nice it would be sleeping soundly in the next few hours.

But my cell phone rang and the desire I had was to throw it out the window. I didn't think it was Johnny because he knows that wouldn't be good to talk to me today. I naturally bet on Rachel since my parents liked to call me at lunchtime. Or maybe it was Quinn. One more touch and I gave up playing guessing. It was Brittany.

"Britt?" My voice was hoarse, tired. "Hi."

"Hi San. I was missing you so much and decided to call you."

"I'm glad you called. How is Rob?"

"Rob is great. He's leaving my mother crazy running up and down the house. He's is huge, San. And so strong!" She silenced and I didn't know what to say. "You never called."

"I'm really missing you, Britt. Not that it happened something exceptional. I think I've been just busy these days. My classes just started and I'm already has tons of books to read. But that's a boring subject… What are you doing?"

"Mike's agent got me a model job. I'll take some photos with bikini for a small local brand. Isn't it cool? I will also make a film, but will only appear my body." Is it body double? I didn't know what to think.

"Britt, is not that I am not happy about it, but bikini and body double?"

"It's just photos, San, and it's good and fair money. I have a son to support."

"What about Jim? Isn't he paying Rob's allowance as he promised?"

"Jim pays what he promised and he came to see Rob at least once a week. He is a good father, San. I can say some bad things about Jim, but not about this. And I need to think on my career. Teaching at Mike's dance studio is great, but I need more. I want more opportunities."

I wasn't convinced. Not that it was against her doing modeling jobs, but I had my prejudices. Body models were those that made the sex scenes because the lead actress didn't want to, right? And who would be such a photographer? Not everyone was a Quinn Fabray. And if the photographer is some pervert who just want to fuck later?

"San? Are you there?"

"Yes, Britt, I am. Do you need anything? Are you in trouble because of the money?"

"I'm not in trouble, San. I have no problem with money right now. Why do you think so, if I had said no?"

"Sorry Britt. I was just surprised by the news."

"You sounded jealous."

I sat on my bed. It was a provocation?

"I just want your well-being."

"If you wanted this, come to Los Angeles. You're my best friend, but you're never here. You've never come to see me."

"I... I... I..." In all the time that Rachel was in Los Angeles, I haven't stepped a foot there once not even to visit my sister, or Brittany, or Mike or even Prancy Smurf.

"Why do you never come to see me?" She insisted

"I will." I shot without really thinking about it.

"When?"

"Next weekend."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, San."

"You have every reason to doubt me, Britt. But I'm not letting you down this time."

"Really?"

"I swear!"

"I'll wait for you."

…

Life in L.A

(Rachel)

Santana was in front of me with guilty expression. She was carrying a backpack and her purse. Her head was down. That's what I called joy to visit her sister for the first time in Los Angeles. To me, Santana wouldn't have come. Not in such circumstances. Not to fall into a trap created by Brittany. Didn't she see it?

"It's bizarre to see you two holding hands in the middle of the airport." Santana said quietly.

Yes, sometimes Mike and I do it to insinuate that we were together and there are always paparazzis around in LAX. Mike and I go out together in some parties and some people began to insinuate that we were dating. We decided to go along with it and Mike is now my first informal beard.

"You look great, San." Mike was the first to hold her and I was idly observed the two exchanged shy smiles. "What happened to the finger?"

"I fractured it in a bicycle accident last Saturday." She looked more shy than usual.

"In the streets?"

"Central Park." She finally looked at my face. "Thank you for coming to get me."

"There's still time for you to flight back for the sake of your relationship."

"Gee, Rachel." She frowned. "If I knew you would be so hostile from the first second, I would never have called you. No need to host me if you don't want. I can go to a hotel."

"I won't give you this pleasure, Santana Berry-Lopez."

"I'm not a child and you aren't my mother." She said softly, conscious and slightly threatening.

"It doesn't mean I will sit still while you do something stupid." I also said in low and firmly.

"Sorry to interrupt." Mike grinned. "But we're in an airport and there is a girl pointing a cell phone towards us. We should go." He said as he put his arm around my shoulders.

I went into the actress mode and put my arm around Mike's waist. We started walking towards the exit with Santana slightly behind. A fan stopped us. He smiled sheepishly and asked for a selfie. These were things that interested me. If people believe that I was dating Mike, so I could marry Quinn in peace.

Mike tried to establish a friendly conversation with Santana along the way. He said that he haven't speak to Quinn since the day she began filming the TV show, but he knew that Johnny's book was almost out. Mike told he will come back to Ohio for Thanksgiving and said her sister was pregnant at 17, put she will keep the baby. He also gave us some news about our old friends from Glee Club.

I knew some by my own.

Kurt use to give me news about the former glee club. Finn Hudson lived in Detroit while he was doing some classes and workshops on mechanics. He dated a girl who, as Kurt said, resembled my body type. After a year, he went back to Ohio to administer Burt's machine shop, and he's also helping Mr. Shue in the new glee club. It was disturbing. Blaine sings in small bars of Los Angeles. Sometimes Kurt guests in these shows. I met Blaine only once and he seemed fine. Mercedes was the one who had contact Sam: he graduated in Physical Education in Utah and he's an assistant coach of football. I know that Santana and I completely lost touch with Noah, but he is in the business of selling accessories for swimming pools. Mike still had some contact with Matt, who became owner of a restaurant in Miami. Tina and Lauren were still in Lima, and apparently Artie was studying Advertising in Cleveland.

Glee club seemed like a family at that time, but it was just a temporary dysfunctional family with some promiscuous relationships, stealing boyfriends and girlfriends from each other. Just a part of the group stayed together: Mike, Quinn, Santana, Mercedes, Kurt, Brittany and I. And what is more ironic was that the frenemies of the group were the ones who stayed together as a couple: Quinn and I. I still couldn't believe that we will marry.

Quinn insisted on the idea of telling the news to our parents at a dinner in Ohio. I thought that nothing could be more appropriate than New York, after all, this was the city where our story began as real couple. I couldn't wait to see the surprise on their faces. Even Santana didn't know yet. We will get married first at the registry office, and then we will have a small reception for family and close friends. We didn't decided yet where we go in our honeymoon. Quinn wants Paris, but I think the time of year is perfect to visit somewhere in the Caribbean, where we would have a bit of sun and heat.

"Half penny for your thoughts." Santana said as we were alone in the house and it made me come back to remember the question: my sister was in Los Angeles because of Brittany.

"Nothing important." I locked the front door and pointed towards the stairs. "There isn't much to show here. The house is small but very functional. The rooms are upstairs, the only suite is mine and you will occupy the room next mine. The bathroom is simple, as you see, the house hasn't much furniture, but that's okay because I spend most of the time alone here..." Santana let her backpack on the floor and went up the stairs. I carried her backpack and put it in her room while Santana was checking the house. "When will you see her?"

"After lunch." Santana looked at her watch. It was almost noon.

"I have an event to attend at five and I will come back late. It is a promotional thing, something I have to do for the show and for me."

"I thought you were here to shoot a movie, not to party." She tried to provoke me, but I ignored her. Santana knew very well that a thousand and one things happened in the actor's life: events of various kinds, need for promotion, photo shoots, interviews, and sometimes even classes to help in a particular role: those are all part of the job. "Anyway... is it a gala party?"

"Not at all, but I will do hair and makeup, and wearing a Carolina Herrera. Mike is going with me. His agent is happy with the sudden appearance of him on gossip sites suggesting a dating with me."

"Huh?" Santana frowned.

"Mike has few good job opportunities, but he wasn't so recognized by the mainstream media. He isn't taken seriously. Slings and Arrows become a popular HBO series recognized for the quality of the cast. Do the math."

"Don't be arrogant and boastful, Rachel."

"I'm not! Unfortunately that's how Hollywood works: image and marketing generate box office. It's not only about talent, although this is fundamental to long-term career. Mike deserves much more than minor characters in B-movies released directly in DVD. He will never be taken seriously if he is not called to better productions. His womanizer ways doesn't help. I am seen as a serious actress, my contacts are better and so as my agent and publicist. Do the math."

"Ok." Santana crossed her arms. "But your talking is somewhat disturbing. It doesn't seem the little girl who grew up dreaming to be a Broadway star. This story of you being in Hollywood sometimes sounds strange to me."

"Things change, people change, and different opportunities come. You said once that you were going to marry a NFL player and keep Brittany as your mistress."

"I was 16, and had to keep my cheerio façade." She defended herself. "And I didn't know what I wanted from life that time."

"We were 16, Puckerman was in the football team and Brittany was basically your mistress. I dreamed of marrying Finn Hudson and attend at Julliard or in the best drama school in New York. Look what happened to us! Things change, Santy. Our goals change."

"I think it's called grow up and move on, right?" She sat down on her bed. She seemed fragile.

"What's going on, Santy?" I sat next to my sister and put a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I love Britt, Ray." She blurted. "But I also love Johnny for real, and for the first time in my life I'm scared to death to ruin a relationship because of Brittany."

"Then why did you come anyway?"

"Because I feel that Britt is alone and sad, and it hurts me. And because I didn't want to feel like a coward in not coming just to protect myself."

"Sometimes I wish you were more selfish, Santy. You're bitchy and a little petty. But hardly selfish."

"You've always been selfish one..." I pushed her gently and she gave a small smile.

I hugged my sister before I go to the kitchen and fix anything to eat. There were frozen vegetarian lasagna, fruits, vegetables for cooking… I decided that the frozen lasagna was the best option and put it to defrosting and heating in the microwave. I packed the counter with the plates and cutlery, prepared a juice jar and within ten minutes we had a meal. I tried not to be so critical with my sister after her confidence, but I still thought visiting Brittany was a mistake. Now it was up to Santana do the right thing, whatever that was.

My sister got ready and I drove her at Brittany's house. Believe or not, it was the first time I was going there. Brittany was in my house on two occasions and I met her once at Mike's studio, but I've never got interested in knowing where she lived. It was a small blue house that looked neat. I didn't want to be rude, so I go to her door just to say "hi". Brittany received us with a broad smile. Rob, her son, was stuck in her legs looking curious of those two strangers at the door. He was a beautiful boy: lightskin, curly black hair, adorable light brown eyes, and Brittany's chin.

"Hey little guy!" I said to Rob.

"Say hi to Rachel, honey." Brittany encouraged her kid to interact with me.

"Hi!" He said shyly and run into de house.

"He's adorable, Britt." I was charmed by him.

"Yeah. Rob's a great kid. Hey Rach, won't you come in?"

"Oh no, Britt. I just drive Santy."

"Rachel has a party to go." Santana said without delicacy. "She needs to get ready to be in the useless celebrities sites in a few hours."

"Oh." Brittany frowned. "It's a shame that you can't stay a little bit."

"Another time, Britt."

We hugged Brittany and I come back home wishing sense to Santana. My phone rang when I got in the car: Quinn. I put my cell on the cradle, put my headphone and answer her.

"Hey beautiful." I said while driving.

"Hey babe, where are you?"

"Driving back home. I just left Santana in Britt's place."

"Oh… I can imagine how happy you're now."

"You know me too well."

"Your sister is a grown up woman."

"But she's still my sister and I care about her… anyway… what are you doing?"

"It's lunch time."

"Now?"

"We just finished a complicated scene and our day schedule delayed. I'm feeling we will finish filming today late night!"

"At least you have a dormitory to stay there."

"No, thank you. I'd rather catch a ride with somebody in the studio and go home. One time at the dormitory was more than enough."

She told me about her bad experience sleeping in the dormitory, sharing it with a smelling guy and a woman who passed all night snoring really load. But the part that Quinn complains must is that the dorm is small for four people (two bunk beds) and has no conditioning air.

"I will spend a week in New York before going to New Mexico for the second round of the filmings." I changed the subject. "I talked to Emiliano yesterday and the team will have this small gap before breaking camp there."

"Wonderful. When are you coming?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe next Thursday. I want to take to advance some things about our marriage. We need to find a place for our reception and try to find someone to perform the ceremony since Rabi can't because you didn't convert to Judaism… and because it's a same-sex marriage…"

"But you said your Rabi would come to our ceremony."

"Yes, he will come just to say some worlds because he knows me since I was a baby, and he was daddy's personal friend. But he can't perform the ceremony itself."

"Oh, right… I understood wrong. My bad. Do you know what? You should tell Santana before the dinner. At least she can help us with the reception stuffs. She's your bridesmaide but she doesn't know it yet! Come on, Rachel."

"I will tell her soon. I just didn't find the right moment."

"Ok, that's your business but I bet your right time will be the worst possible."

"Have a little faith on me."

"I do, babe. But I also know you. Well, at least our date didn't change… yet."

"December 10th."

"December 10th. Babe, I need to go eat something. I'm starving."

"Ok. Call me tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Today is that party and Mike will go with me as my beard."

"Tell him to keep his hands away from you."

"It's just a showmance for the paps. And, for the bright side, I can be paped now with you and people will just see us as BFFs. What it's also true."

"I know, Rach. Just, keep it safe. Mike is my friend and I don't want to kill him."

"You won't. We're safe, Quinn. And we're going to marry."

"Yeah. Rachel… I need to go now."

"Ok. Love you."

"Love you too."

She was used to the routine of doing hair and makeup at home before heading out to any red carpet event. And if I had this routine, it was because Slings and Arrows was a series of critical success with good ratings. We weren't the HBO champions, but the numbers guaranteed seasons. Slings and Arrows won a Golden Globe for best comedy series (in our case: dramedy) and best actor, won the SAG's best comedy series and had some Emmy nominations. We were good and it was so nice to be recognized by a great show.

My dress was quite jovial and elegant at the same time. I put heel shoes, my hair was loose, without my bangs, and light makeup. I swore that after Slings, I would have myself another hair cut. I can't change it much by contract and, if I do, the produces must approve it first. It sucks sometimes. I see Quinn cutting her hair whatever she wants, and she's always beautiful. It's hard not to be jealous. I looked myself in the mirror, my team was cheering, saying I was great. I was indeed wearing something safe and easy to please the police fashion. Not that it was fundamental. I just didn't want to be pointed on those worst dressed lists.

Mike arrived in his new car to take me to the party. I had to pass him the agenda set out by my publicist: red carpet, photographers, two-minute interviews. Things we were already well trained to do. The only fun part about it was to be with Mike and then meet up with some friends. My friend was in fine sport and perfectly suited to the event. Mike wasn't Kurt, but he likes to dress well nowadays. He still makes modest finances compared with other C-List Hollywood actors, but he managed enough money to set up a great dance studio where he employed Brittany, and bought a small but nice apartment in West Hollywood and a freaking awesome car. I think he was doing well, but he could do better nad our fake bearding romance may help him. It's definitely helping me since diverts attention from people of my relationship with my "best friend" Quinn Fabray.

"Hey Rach." He gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek before I get in the car. "You're lovely."

"And you are charming as ever."

"Ready to party?" He grinned.

"Ready to work, actually."

"It's still a party and we can have some fun."

"I think so."

"So let's show them."

Mike and I walked throw the red carpet hand in hand always with a smile on our faces. No kisses at all, but people didn't seem to mind as long we say "yes, we're dating". Mike and I only parted when photographers asked me to pose alone. They would use those pictures for sites that evaluated fashion and everything. Thanks to the good Kurt, I was great and doing much better than several of my colleagues. The party was promoted by HBO for its sponsors and some of the actors under a contract must attended, as well some actors who just need to show up, like Mike. It's business and part of my job, but Mike had a point: we should have some fun.

The DJ started playing some great songs. After nearly an hour around, taking pictures and talking to people, greeting sponsors, drinking and eating canapés, my job was mostly done. Mike took the cup of wine of my hands.

"Let's do a small show, Rachel Berry-Lopez."

He started dancing around me. One good thing about being Mike's partner in a dance floor is that I don't need to do anything. If I stay just stood like a door, that's all right, because he dances so well that no one will look at me. But I loved to dance. Of course I'm not as good as him or Brittany, but I wasn't so bad. Mike and I danced three songs and we saw ourselves as the center of attention. It was great. Mike was the best beard in the world: he was one of my best friends and the only two major changers was that we were going out together more often and we told people (press) we were dating. Sometimes we walked hand in hand and we didn't have to kiss in public to sell our story. It's perfect and Quinn wasn't freaking out.

Mike and I left the party laughing to the car. When we reached the safety of our driving, he smiled at me like someone who was a little high because of alcohol. I was also slightly high because of some wine glasses.

"It was fun." He said.

"It was."

"When will we do it again?"

"Oh, Mike. Do not make me think now"

"Will Santana still be in the area tomorrow?"

"Yes she will."

"We should hang out with the old gang: I, you, San, Britt, Kurt, maybe Blaine."

"It's a great idea. I'll call you."

"Right."

I kissed Mike's cheek face before getting off the car and got in my house. It was almost midnight, my feet were killing me and I needed a hot bath and bed. As I entered with my pair of shoes in hand, I found Santana sitting in the couch with her glasses on and concentrated on the computer screen.

"Hey." She looked at me. "You're early. Didn't you have fun?"

"It's late, Santy." I collapsed in the couch besides her. "Don't you get tired of working?"

"I'm just answering an important email. That woman in the bicycle accident wants an exclusive collection with wedding theme."

"That's..."

"Amazing, right? If I make a deal with this woman, my business will have an upgrade. Maybe I will finally have money to hire that manager and, after that, rent a space for the official office."

Rock'n'Pano isn't a top internet business, but my sister makes enough money to pay all her stuffs and half of our condo fee. I think that if she didn't have so much commitment to college and signed that contract with Mr. Weiz, it was likely that she would turn Rock'n'Pano of a small empire. Her business is doing well, although Santana couldn't devote much time. At least she has zaide to help her.

After shower, I was already more relaxed by the warm water effect, I put on an old pajamas and saw that my sister was already in her room, but still working. Santana acquired the ability to type so fast that sometimes I was impressed with the sound of keys. It was like a newsroom or something. I took a decade to enter a simple sentence compared to the speed of Santana's fingers on the keyboard.

"I'm done."She closed the computer and put it on the nightstand. "How was the party?"

"It was nice. Sponsor event... The photos should be already uploaded at some webside." I lay down besides my sister. "How was your day with Brittany?"

"It was good..." Santana shifted on the bed and rolled over to face me. "She... she have plans to do a dance workshop in New York by Mike's expenses."

"Really?" I said with irony. "So, I suppose it's just to improve her already awesome dance techniques."

"Yes. Aren't you paying that coach to improve your acting skills to the movie? And I think you're already very good."

"It's different?"

"How is it different?"

"I'm not a recently divorced looking for things to do in the city where my first love is living in." I said in a heartbeat. "She didn't choose you that time."

"It was my fault…"

"It wasn't, Santy! You were living your life and she was living hers. She chose L.A and be close to her family. Now that she was a single mother, she starts looking for you again? No way!"

"It's not like that…"

"Say that nothing happen between you and Britt today. That you didn't cheat on Johnny." Santana stayed quiet for a moment and I closed my eyes. I just want to see my sister happy, and she is happy with Johnny! I know she loves Brittany and she always will do, but Brittany hasn't brought anything but angst to my sister's life.

"We kissed." Santana finally said. "Kiss Britt is like magnetism, the most natural thing I could do in my life. Kiss and hug her is easy, natural, simple."

"Please, tell me there is a but."

"But spending all the afternoon and part of the night with her make me realize about some stuff."

"Like what?"

"She's a mother, and I'm a single college girl living in New York."

"Go on."

"I love Britt, Rob is a great kid, but I'm not ready for her, Ray… I can't give her what she needs, and I realized that I love Johnny for real. I've never felt so bad about cheating on a guy because of Brittany. I love her and I love him… I wish I could have both."

"Like back in high school?"

"Oh no. I've never loved Puck. He was just a safe booty call when I was craving for a good fuck and Brittany wasn't around. And I used Puck for popularity. What I feel for Johnny is love, Ray, and I've never stopped loving Brittany after all."

"But you can't have both."

"That's why I'm choosing Johnny."

I hugged my sister and we stayed a little bit in silence, cuddling on her bed.

"Santy…"

"Hum?"

"I proposed Quinn. We are getting married on December and you're my bridesmaid."

"WHAT?"