Shit. That's the first thing Santana had thought of when she woke up. For some odd reason she felt a sense of deja vu. She blinked her eyes allowing them to slowly adjust to its surrounding. A sigh of relief fell upon her when she realized she was in her own bedroom.

Rubbing her temple she immediately flinched in pain. Ugh. Why does her forehead feels so heavy? Well heavier than the usual hangover shit she gets. She frowned feeling a cooling patch slapped on her forehead. What the fuck?

Everything was moving around, thoughts of dancing doors and floating poles were flashing on her head. She frowned trying to remember what the hell happened. The memories soon came to her like a freight of train which was soon followed by a wave of embarrassment when she slowly pieced together what had happened today or maybe yesterday or whatever time it was. She remembered how she had hit her head twice in the last 24 hours. The first was on the pole when she was on her way home after the night out with Riley. Then the second was when she hit the wall in the auditorium when she was trying to get out the door after seeing that dancing blondie. After that, she passed out. Fuck how long was she out? And how the hell did she even get home?

Before she could think any further she felt a wave of nausea consume her. She bolted to the bathroom where she heaved, clutching the toilet like her life depended on it, as she watches the contents of the alcohol swivels around the bowl. She stayed there for half an hour, not moving until she felt the world slowly settling down around her.

Ugh. She looked horrible when she saw her reflection. Her hair was everywhere, her make up smudged and a small vomit was evident on her mouth. She looked closely examining her forehead and internally smiled when she saw no bruising around the patch.

She wasn't new to bruises. She's been to too many fights for her days. She won all of them of course. Except that one fight with Zizes. It totally ruined her all winning streak. It was her win if you ask her, some may argue that, given that Zizes had thrown in a few good punches and she was thrown across the floor, but it's all in the perspective. Zizes should be thanking her lucky stars that Beiste had stopped her from going all Lima Heights cause it would definitely show that wagon beast who's the real winner there.

On the other hand, all those other fights that she had won had given her a reputation not to be messed around with and only a few crazies, rest their souls, had approached her. But thinking about how she got her injuries in her forehead made her internally cringe. Ugh. Definitely not something she'd be proud of saying.

She checked the time and grinned. It was already 2 am on a Saturday. That means she could sleep the whole day without any disturbance. Taking a quick shower to remove the smell of vomit and alcohol, she headed straight to bed but not before drinking the medicine that was conveniently placed beside her table. She'll figure out who put that there later for now sleep is calling her.

She was in the midst of a wonderful dream when she was woken up by the persistent ringing on her phone.

"What?" she exasperatedly answered, deeply annoyed at whoever was disturbing her sleep. She already thought of two ways to torture whoever the fuck woke her up.

"Santana I've been calling you since last night. Where have you been? Do you know how worried I was? This is not good for my vocals you know? Stress causes straining in the muscles and I can't have that when I'm trying to-"

"Ugh Berry. Stop shouting you're giving me a fucking headache."

"Well where are you?"

"Where else am I suppose to be?"Santana asked irritated. "I'm fucking in my room."

"Santana as your friend, I'm very well supportive of your sexual preference and I'm happy that you had fully embrace the sapphic love but I don't need to know the details of your-"

"Geezuz fucking christ. Calm your tits Berry. I'm in my room."

"Oh well, let me in," Rachel chimed way too happily.

"No. Go away and let me sleep afores I ends you."

"I brought a movie."

"Have you not been listening?"

"I also have food."

"Bribing won't work. Leave the food and take your musical DVD with you."

"It's not a musical," Rachel whined.

"You know lying won't work with me Berry. I'm the master of that," Santana grumbled. She was close to ripping out her own hair. "Or do I have to show you my trophy which I had won for being the best liar? Besides the only DVDs you've got are musicals."

"Fine. It's the Sound of Music. But you love that movie. So open up."

"No you only think I do. So take your DVD with you and leave the food with me. Kapish?"

Rachel thinking of a different tactic started ringing the doorbell, "You know, I can do this all day."

It was on the fifteen ring that Santana finally decided to open the door only to instantly regret her actions. She's totally going to dismantle that damn doorbell. Suppose she could have just slammed the door shut and pretend she was never home but she didn't wanna be rude. To the food of course. Who is she to turn down free food? Especially when its breadsticks. So she told herself that a few minutes with Berry wouldn't be that bad. But boy was she wrong.

"What happened to you face? You have a huge bump on your forehead."

"Geez Berry. If I wanted an update on my face I would have just looked into a mirror. I'm already ignoring the fact that I look like shit and the first thing you'd comment on is my face. Ever heard of the don't look don't ask rule?"

"I'm pretty sure you just made that up. I've never heard of that."

"Clearly you haven't." Santana rolled her eyes grabbing the box of breadsticks, her mood instantly brightening. Breadstick was her food tamer. Damn Berry for knowing her too well.

She was enjoying every bite of the heavenly goodness that she didn't notice Rachel was looking at her expectantly until the said girl started doing some mad ass fake coughing.

"What?" She mumbled with food stuffed in her mouth. "I'm hungry."

Rachel had to shake her head at Santana's behaviour. People at school would think twice at the girl's bad ass image if they see her now. Don't get her wrong Santana is scary, especially when Snixx is out. But lucky for her, she knows Santana's weakness. Or strength depending on the way you look at it. She remembers one time Santana went all Snixx to some poor girl who had accidentally bumped their table, which had almost led to a basket full of breadsticks dropping on the floor. It took a few bribes and a couple more basket of breadstick before Santana had settled down. But looking at Santana now, she looks practically harmless.

"If you could start explaining what happened that would be nice."

"Nothing to tell Dr. Phil," Santana said taking another bite.

"Fine. I guess you lose my home delivery breadstick privilege. You know how they don't even allow that Santana."

Santana stopped mid chew and looked at her almost appalled, "You wouldn't dare."

"I can be capable of those sort of things," Rachel shrugged acting indifferent. Of course she would never do that. Not only because Santana loves breadstick so much and she would hate to get in between the two of them but also because she didn't want to end up like the girl who had face the wrath of Snixx, who if she hasn't mention got a few scrapes and bruises at the end of it. It was a dangerous game but how else was Rachel suppose to know what's going on with her friend?

"Fine," Santana huffed looking away. "I got into some fights. No big deal."

There is no fucking way she's telling Berry the real reason why she got a bump in her forehead. She's embarrass about it herself so she doesn't need Berry adding more embarrassment to it. The only other person that knows is the mysterious dancing blondie but she hopes she doesn't ever have to see her again. And she doesn't have to worry about Riley. She's sure that that girl was as wasted as her that she probably would have hit a pole herself.

"What have I been telling you about fights Santana? One of these days you'll end up in a lot more trouble than you bargain for."

"I was raised in Lima Heights. Fighting is in my blood Berry. Why else would I have razors in my hair?" She rolled her eyes at her friend's lecture.

"Santana you only ever stayed there for a week to visit your abuela. So that doesn't count as you being raised there."

"Whatever. It's too late now anyways. Already IN trouble."

"Did they kick you out?" Rachel gasp dramatically. "I'm going to ask my Daddy to have a talk with Principal Figgins. As you know, Daddy is a lawyer so I'm sure he could do something about that. We could also remind Principal Figgins that you're among the top ten smart people in our year including me in McKinley High, and kicking you out would lower the average GPA of the school. Thus, ruining its reputation."

"As much as I appreciate you getting all fired up, which honestly is really funny when you get your panties in a bunch. I didn't get kicked out or get suspended. It's much worse."

"Worse?" Rachel asked nervously. "What could possibly be worse?" Rachel thought of all the worse possible scenarios that Santana could face, each becoming much worse than the last. First community service, then maybe its juvie, or what if Santana gets deported, or what if its execution?

"Well what is it?" Rachel asked tapping her foot impatiently when she realized Santana was ignoring her in favour of munching her food. "You know…For someone who might be executed you're awfully calm."

"Geez just let me finish- wait what? Executed? The fuck? I'm not getting executed Berry," Santana rolled her eyes for the nth time. Rachel can be so dramatic. "Figgins made me join the glee club."

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure I heard you correctly," Rachel said pointing to her ears. She swears she just heard Santana mention herself and glee club together. All in one sentence.

"Ugh. Don't let me repeat it. It might spoil the food. We both know how your hearing is perfectly fine."

"I'm so happy," Rachel shrieked. "This is a wonderful news. I can't wait to show you the ropes and everything. You'll enjoy it Santana. I knew sooner or later you'll join the club. As the president let me be the first to welcome you." She clapped excitedly as she continued, "Now we can bond over great musicals and have duets together. This bonding experience would definitely make our friendship stronger."

Sometimes Santana think the real scary isn't her. It lies with Rachel Berry. Looking at the girl now she almost feared that she had sign up to some singing show choir cult. She had to hold the shiver that had pass through her body seeing the excitement in the girl. Execution wouldn't be a bad option right now. She conjured a number of ways it could even happen and each one was getting better and better than a happy bouncing Rachel who is still yabbing about musical songs and duet numbers.

The ring of the doorbell became music in her ears compared to Berry's nasal voice. She could really only handle so much of that girl. Before she starts twitching in one eye from being too overloaded with irritation. She was about to get up but Rachel had already beaten her to it.

"I'll get it," the way too happy brunette yodeled, yes yodeled, while skipping around like a gazelle. Santana shrugged, grabbing another breadstick, thinking that whoever is on the other side of the door would be smart enough to run for their life once they see a prancing Oompa-Loompa. She snorted at that thought.

"SANTANA," Rachel screech making her cringe at her friend's wide range voice.

Geezuz fucking god, she's sure even the old deaf guy from the other street had heard Berry yelling out her name. Whatever, she didn't like that old guy anyway. He never fails to give her a disappointed glare that almost says "there goes that damn lesbian" every time she drives by by his house. In turn, she would usually drive really slow every time she sees him outside his mustard cream porch just so she could spite him. It was pretty hilarious to see how long his disappointed glare would last. His current record was 30 seconds. She's trying to see if he could make it to 40.

"SANTANA," another loud screech.

Why the fuck is Rachel screeching her name so early in the, she glanced at the clock, afternoon? She's pretty sure didn't say the Oompa-Loompa comment out loud. But who knows what Rachel's ears could be like. Those things are so scary.

"There's a certain blonde out here for you," she heard her friend yell.

Thoughts of Quinn popped into Santana's head. She frowned, thinking about how her blonde friend should just really come in. Ugh she doesn't need to be in the door to greet her and welcome her in. Despite her name, Quinn ain't no fucking queen that needs a royal welcome. Fucking Fabray. That bitch was probably pissed off at her from yesterday. Grabbing the last breadstick, she stumped her way with an intent of lecturing Quinn.

That thought was wiped out of her mind once she reached the door. Her feet immediately halted and she swears her body had just relapse going by how her eyes went wide she swears she could see all the dust floating around and how her jaw suddenly gone slack. There in front of her is the dancing blonde from yesterday. She was so surprise to say the least that she dropped the breadstick that was hanging from her mouth. So not classy, but at least she didn't drool.

Why the hell is dancing blondie over here? Of course, why would she think it was Fabray anyways? That bitch just walks right in her house like she owns it.

She didn't realize it at first, until the initial shock in her system had settled down, but she could feel her heart beating super fast once more. Maybe Rachel was right... She should really slow down with her breadsticks before she dies from a heart failure. She could barely hear her own thoughts from the loud drumming of her impending heart attack. It really started to worry her and she thinks she's about to pass out again. But she told herself it was because she had lost her precious breadstick that she feels so lightheaded and weak. She'll have to ask the breadstick god for forgiveness later.

Unless, she thought, this isn't real and right now she's somewhere passed out in her bed having a really weird dream. For a few moment she really considered that possibility. After all, there is no way she would drop a breadstick in real life. It's like anything is more possible than that.

"Santana?" Rachel called out.

Fuck. Santana internally swore getting hit by reality through the voice of Berry. This shit is real. There's no way she'd be dreaming about the loud obnoxious friend of hers. Apparently anything is more possible than dropping her breadstick. Except dreaming about Rachel Berry.

New plan, she thought. Maybe if she walks back slowly she could still hide in the pantry until they both go away. It would be a perfect plan. She didn't have to worry about food since there's a few food stashed in there. She could probably survive there for a few days.

Her plan, however, immediately got wiped as soon as her eyes directly met with the soft blue eyes. She almost had to do a double take just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Blondie was too far back in the auditorium and given that she was also intoxicated when she first got a glimpse of her that she didn't instantly recognized her. But this time around she was just standing a few feet away from her that she could clearly see who the blonde is. It took a moment but when she allowed her eyes to travel down the cheeks, the nose, then finally the curve lips of the blonde that had the familiar smile that she had often dreamt about, her eyes immediately widen than it already were.

Damn. She kinda wish she could have just fainted.