Hey Gang! Don't worry, I didn't abandon or forget about this or ToD. I got sort of distracted by Pezberry week (which was hella fun) and college (as always) is a pain and being a senior, I have a lot to do and prepare for. But fear not, the girls are back and things are heating up. I divided this chapter into two so the real Pezberry interaction will happen in the next chapter; which I will post tomorrow or Sunday. I'd also like to thank everyone for all the alerts, favorites, and reviews. Also, for being patient with me and still following this story. You guys keep me writing and inspire me to write better. It might take a while for the girls to get together seriously but there will be some fun bumps and twists along the way to keep you reading. One more thing, would anyone like to read the staging of the musical or not? I'm working out the plot of Rachel's musical and if no one wants to read about it, then I won't and just say the play happened. Let me know.

Okay, enough of my rantings. On with the story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Blue Mic Club, Kevin Bryant and Carmine.

Chapter 4

Santana POV

When I woke this morning and had to fight to get that damn needy girl out of my apartment like I do most mornings, I didn't expect to be bitched at by my best friend and the fucking water/hot chocolate guy (of all people). I mean, what the fuck is that about? Like sure, discarding girls like yesterday's newspapers is sort of insensitive but I've been doing it for years now. So why now is it a problem? It's not like I'm a bad person. I've never killed anyone. I rarely get into fights. I do volunteer work. I'm nice to people. Who I like. Most of the time. So why bitch at me for hurting a few loose girl's feelings?

Oh but wait, the day just got worst after my run in with Calvin. So after all that shit, I nearly got hypothermia running in the fucking cold almost naked. My iPod decided that it wanted to join me in the shower. My father called me bitching about how I was losing focus with my life (like that wasn't obvious when I dropped out of Colombia after a year?) Our landlord stopped by because he had gotten some complaints about the noise this morning. I calmly informed him that it was simply a lover's quarrel between exes. He bought it (like he wouldn't?). Oh and let's not forget that little cunt Carla decided to spray paint (where she got it, I have no idea) 'BITCH' on the side of my pretty good condition 2008 Ford Focus. It's not the first time someone has spray painted my car (I tend to piss people off. A lot) and it probably won't be the last but it still sucked because cleaning off the fucker took 30 minutes off of my usual schedule and I hate random things interrupting my daily routine. After cleaning all the shit off, my boss from the Blue Mic Club called to tell me that I'd be working from 5 to 12 as opposed to 6 to 10. He said he extended my hours because of some shit about critic coming and wanting to showcase his best talent or something. But whatever. More money, right?

I get to the club around 4:30 or so and after saying hey to all my coworkers, crash in my dressing room. I'm not supposed to go on until 8 so for the time being, I am just an extra hand where I'm needed. Man, I hate grunt work. I love singing and performing but all the shit they have me doing before and after I perform is just ridiculous. But when I'm a famous soul and R&B singer, they will all probably work for me so for now, gotta do the hard work now to make it to the top later. But right now, my couch looks very welcoming. Just as I take a step towards the black loveseat calling my name, I hear someone call me too. "Santana," I freeze dramatically with one foot in the air. "Don't you even think about putting your ass print in that couch. I need you." Still one on foot, I shift to turn and face my intruder.

"Hey Kev," I say to my blonde haired older roommate. Well both my roommates are older than me but Kevin, at the tender age of 29 is older than both me and Luis. The Pratt Institute grad sort of looks like an older version of Trouty mouth but more indie rock; less football quarterback. He's been friends with Luis since they were little and they started the band that I am currently the lead vocalist in. He's pretty kickass on the guitar and I'm actually surprised he's stayed with us so long because I'm sure he could go out on his own and tear up the music industry. So I'm gonna enjoy every minute I have with him. Well, not now because he's kind of interrupting my nap time. "Ugh, what do you want from me?" I ask with a groan. What's the point of trying to fake like I want to work when I really don't?

"Carmine told me that you don't go on till 8 and I need help with the tables so..."

"So naturally you assumed I wanted to help your pathetic ass?" I say with a raised eyebrow.

"So that's a yes?" he says with a cocky little smirk. I taught him that. Only I'm allowed to do that.

"How many people are out there and are you by yourself?"

"Six tables of regulars with on average, 3 people at each. And yes; I am by myself because Lawrence is sick and Hannah is working the bar because Nelson's girlfriend went into labor before he came to work." Dammit.

"So I really have no choice do I?"

"Not really Lopez."

"Well then Bryant, get the hell out of my dressing room so I can change into that monkey suit you call a waiter's outfit," I really hate that outfit. It's like a black collared shirt with some light blue bow tie thing and for the girls, a light blue skirt instead of black pants like the guys. And to top off the hideous ensemble, I have to wear a stupid black waist apron with a big ass blue mic on the front of it. Like seriously, who designed this shit and who said that it looked ok?

"You really need to cut all that hostility, Lopez. Maybe try having real feelings for once," Kevin says instead of leaving like instructed.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" I snap back. I really need to stop that.

"I mean that I think why you're such a bitch all the time. You're a bitch because," oh no.

"If you say that it's because I'm angry and I have all these feelings that I'm afraid of dealing with, I'd like to inform you that that ship has sailed and is happily coasting in the high seas of pussyville."

"Wow. Just wow. I thought Luis was bad but you are just a terrible." Great, now Kevin wants to lecture me? Do I have a sign on my face that says 'Confront Santana about her life choices'?

"Just stop," I warn. "I don't wanna hear it."

"Well you're gonna have to eventually. You haven't been right since she left you."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I don't even care who hears me at the this point. Today is not my day and Kevin just had to mention her. Normally when I lashed out at someone, they cowered in fear and fled the scene. But not Kevin. He looks at me as a messed up little sister and no matter how angry or Satanic I get, he doesn't back down. He just shakes his head and stands his ground. The blonder haired fucker. "No," he says calmly, arms crossed and eyes fixed on me. "But I won't push it because we have work to do but we will talk. And we will discuss her."

"The hell we will!"

"Oh yes we will. But now. Work. Move it." He then quickly leaves my dressing room and closes the door behind him. Fuck my life.

#####

So for the last three hours I have busing tables in this ridiculous waitress outfit, taking drink and food orders, listening to subpar musical acts and avoiding the drunk advances of creepy old guys. I mean really, what lightweight gets drunk before 8 o'clock? Like seriously, I can start drinking at 5 and not be truly wasted till like 2 in the morning. These guys started at like 6 and were gone by like 7. Pathetic.

I'm about to start another round of wine refills when Kevin nods at me to inform me that it's time to start getting ready for my first performance of the night. I put down the tray I'm carrying on the bar and head back to my dressing room to make my transformation from lowly waitress to sexy songstress. Doesn't take that much because even in this stupid waitress outfit, I'm still hotter than pretty much everybody here so all it takes is a nice short, tight red dress, some more make-up, a pair of black heels that make my already amazing ass look out of this world and little hair treatment. All-in-all, the transformation process takes about 45 minutes, giving me 15 minutes to hang out and scan the crowd for potential victims. By victims, I mean those in the audience who will fall prey my performance flirting. Whichever one stares the most, I mess with the most and they leave the best tips. Sounds like a stripper but hey, a girl's gotta make and living and at least my clothes stay on.

So far, I just see the usual suspects who give the usual nothing for tips. Assholes. But wait a second. Is that? It can't be. I look towards the door and spot 3 girls searching for a table. The one in the middle is smaller than the other two, brunette with legs to die for and I couldn't make out her face until they walk towards the front and HOLY SWEET HELL, it's Rachel. Like Rachel Mothefuckin' Berry. Here. Right now. In my workplace. I can definitely chalk this day up to being the weirdest, most random, most interesting day in my life. Like seriously, what is my luck that Rachel Berry, bane of my existence in high school would appear in the very club I work in? The trio walk to a table closest to the dance floor and stage and I finally get real look at her. A few years older. Definitely a much better dresser because the Rachel Berry I used to know would never wear such a short black dress. The Rachel Berry I used to know was stuck in the woods somewhere when it came to her fashion. But watching this woman taking a seat in front of the stage, though different, is Rachel Berry all the same. I may forget names but I never forget faces. Now I knew she was in New York. I mean I did have to attend her "I got into NYU which is the first step towards accomplishing my Broadway dreams" party. But when I came to New York, I had hoped that, with New York being such huge ass state that it is I wouldn't ever have to see or hear from her. But since life is an obnoxious jackass who likes to poke fun at me and make my life more difficult than it needs to be around every turn that it wants.

So here I am backstage, listening to Carmine make his usual speech and desperately trying to make people laugh with his lame ass jokes. "Well enough of my ramblings." Finally. I take a quick look at myself in the backstage mirror and one more look at Rachel casually talking with her friends and sipping on the Blue Mic's specialty wine. Of course Rachel would be a wine kind of girl. But whatever. I think that if the universe is going to play with me, I'm going to have a little fun with the situation. "Well we have some great talents tonight that I know you're gonna absolutely love but first up to start us off, the lovely lady of Blue Mic and my second daughter, Sanita." Sanita. Why must he insist on calling me that? Like seriously. Luis called me that one to make fun of me and the next thing I knew, it was my stage name. It's not too bad but it's just really close to the name that she used to call me and it sends a wave of discomfort through my entire body and I don't like that feeling. But… oh shit, Carmine just left the stage. That's my queue. Show time. Rachel Berry, are you in for a surprise.

The audience starts to clap, the lights dim and a spotlight appears center stage, set on the lone stool, the mic stand and the apparently famous bright blue microphone. As the band starts to play, I make my way to the stage slowly, sensually swaying to the beat with each step. My eyes are turned away from the crowd, so I'm not sure if Rachel is paying attention or not but I sure will make sure she is in just a few.

He left no time to regret

Kept his lips wet

I start one of my favorite songs of all times like I do every other night but this time, I sing a bit stronger. A bit more passionate. A bit more sensual. All for the captive audience that is presented in front of me. As I continue through the song, I can't help but notice that Rachel hasn't taken her eyes off of me. At first I thought it was just her usual judging, condensing stare but looking more intently, I see something in those dark brown eyes that I never thought I'd see coming from Rachel Berry. Lust. Like pure hooded eyes, deep stares, shallow breathes, instant panty dropping lust. And directed at me? Oh yeah. I'm so gonna have fun with this new development.

#####

So here I am now, looking sexy as hell in my red cocktail dress, singing my Latina heart out in an attempt to seduce the crowd and for some god forsaken reason, Rachel has decided to direct her attention elsewhere. Most specifically, her stupid girlfriends. Although, her black friend does look kind of familiar. But regardless, this is not okay. No me gusta. Time to reach in my bag of tricks (still not a stripper) and work my magic of Miss Berry. Let's see how much I can make her squirm, shall we?

You go back to her

And I go back to…

The band drops the beat and slows the tempo with just the drums, guitar and piano playing.

Blaaaaack…

I grab the mic from the stand and take slow, seductive, borderline illegally sexy steps down the stairs on the side of the stage.

Blaaaaack…

Okay, like what the fuck? She hasn't torn her eyes off of her damn friends. They even seem to be having an incredibly heated conversation. Again, no me gusta. I think it's time amp this performance up and see how far I can push her little Berry buttons. So, I walk directly towards her.

Blaaaaack…

Her friends are the first to notice me. Then when she looks up, I'm right in her face and the look she gives me is priceless. Like, I can't tell if she's shocked, scared, confused, turned on or all four. Either way, I'm so not done yet because by the end of this number, I will have Rachel Berry in a puddle of her own drool.

Blaaaaack…

I walk around her chair; running my free hand along the back of her chair.

Blaaaaack…

I do the same to her friends and goddammit, why does her black friend look so fuckin' familiar?

Blaaaaack…

Oh this is too fun. When I get around the table back in front of Rachel, I was hoping to see her melting in her seat but was realistically expecting to see her all tense and flustered but for the first time today; the universe in on my side. Right now, I'm looking into a face with dark, hooded eyes under long lashes and a devilish smirk that I didn't know Berry was capable of. Well damn. And here I thought that I would be the predatory one but the look that she's giving me clearly has reversed the roles. Maybe I'm the prey and she's the predator…

Oh Hell No

I'm the one in control here. Not her. I'm the hunter. And if I want, she will be the hunted.

Blaaaaack…

I go back…

I go back to…

As I finish the last line of the bridge, I lean down looking her straight into those chocolate brown eyes of hers and I'll be damned if she's not staring right into my cleavage. As the song draws to a close, I return to the stage to finish my performance and the ridiculously enticing turned-on look Rachel's been giving me, doesn't face until I leave the stage and disappear behind the curtains.

"LOPEZ!" Shit. I turn around to greet my oh so sweet, oh so short, oh so quiet boss.

"Hi Carmine," I say as fake as possible. "What can I help you with?" Not that I really care or want to or will do what he says.

"How many times do I have to tell you to flirt with all of the guests? Not just the girls." I open my mouth to respond but of course, he's not finished. Goddamn motherfucker. "Now I know that you're a raging lesbian who gets more girls in one week than half the male staff here gets in a year but we have male guests as well that would like to be entertained."

"You do realize that I'm not a stripper, right?" He looks at me with that displeased look that is specifically Carmine

"Just flirt with the girls AND the guys, okay?" He says walking away.

"He's right, you know?"

"Hey Kevin," my tall blonde roommate emerges from waiter's backstage entrance. "And yeah I know but this time I have a reason for messing with those girls."

"Besides you being an oversexed girl with a seemingly insatiable libido?"

"Really? Why am I even living with you and Luis because you both suck," I say, playfully pushing him by the shoulder. He laughs and rolls his eyes.

"Whatever. So, if not your overactive libido, what was it that made you practically molest those girls?"

"Well remember me telling you about me being in the Glee club in high school?"

"Yeah. I laughed about it for weeks until you sang Adele at karaoke night and blew me away."

"Well duh. I'm fuckin' awesome but that's not the point. Anyway, remember when I told you about the crazy, overly ambitious, borderline psycho-stalker bitch who could sing us all up the wall?" Kevin furrows his eyebrows in what looks like confusion

"Vaguely. Isn't she the same one who you had a crush on all of high sch…" I jumped forward and covered his mouth with my hands.

"No. No. I told you to never speak of that dark time. I was experimenting with my feeling for girls and she wore those tiny skirts and she had those legs and those lips..."

"Lopez, come back. Your libido is showing again," Kevin says through my fingers, which I just remembered is still on his face. I quickly remove them and try to remember what I was saying before I got lost in Berry's delights. "Even though she had all those things, she also had that mouth of hers that drove me bat shit crazy."

"Okay, well what about her?"

"She's here," I admit.

"Really?" He rushes over to the side of the stage. Wow. I'm youngest of our little trio and yet Kevin and Luis are the ones that act like damn children. I walk up next to him and we both peer out around the curtain. "Which one is she?" he whispers. I scan the crowd for the table with the three girls and stops when I spot them. Rachel is sitting languidly bobbing her head to the sounds of the saxophone, keyboard and guitar.

"That one," I say pointing. "The small brunette."

"Damn. She's really cute."

"She's okay." Hey, just because I noticed that her fashion sense has improved over the last few years, doesn't mean that I'm going to say that she's actually cute.

"If she's just okay, then why did you practically give her a lap dance?"

"Because she seemed interested in me. Like heart racing, eyes dilated, sweaty palms, wet in the pants turned on."

"So naturally, you decided to amp it up nad see how far you could push her until she was practically drooling?"

"Naturally," I say with a smug grin.

"But is she even into girls? Because last I checked, you always talked about some whalean boyfriend she had in high school that didn't deserve her."

"Well she wasn't the last time I saw her. But she did have some serious sexual tension with Q though."

"So you don't even know if she's into girls but you still wanna sleep with her?" Um, what the fuck?

"Um, no."

"Yes you do. I can see it in your eyes. You so want her," he says smirking. Smug bastard. I'm the only one who can use the smirk. Smirks are my thing.

"I do not want to sleep with Rachel Berry."

"You can deny it all you want but you totally want her. Something tells me that your little crush from high school never left." I roll my eyes and step away from the curtain.

"Oh whatever. Just go serve your fuckin' drinks and leave me the hell alone."

"Alright but trust and behold that if you go anywhere near that girl and catch up and shit , you will try to have sex with her."

"No I won't. Never going happen. No fuckin' way. We couldn't stand each other back in high school and I highly doubt that anything has hcanged. Besides, you don't know anything about her."

" But I know you. And yes you will. Every girl you know, you try to sleep with. It's kind of ridiculous." Not this shit again. I was hoping this day of bitch was over but life a bigger bitch than I am.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're a player Santana. You try to bang every hot thing with boobs and a vagina that comes anywhere near you."

"You are so full of shit Kevin. Just because I like to have sex with a lot of different girls, doesn't mean that I would ever try to fuck Rachel Berry."

"Sure you won't."

"Whatever you jackass. Just get outta of my face so I can relax before my next number," I say, punching him hard in the arm.

"OW!"he practically yells. "Goddammit Santana! That actually hurt." Hell yeah it did. "See, that's why you don't have a girlfriend. You're too damn aggressive." He then walks away, rubbing his injured limb. Poor grown baby. But what the hell does he know anyway? Just because I have sex with a lot of girls doesn't mean the I have sex with every girl I meet. I'm pretty damn selective and Rachel ugly sweaters Berry is not on my 'To-Fuck' list. Even if she does look pretty fuckable right now in that little dress.

God motherfucking dammit!

Lopez, stop thinking ridiculous shit like this!

Rachel POV

"Well, somebody got a bit of a show tonight," Caroline says with a smirk as we all prepare to leave the club. After Santana's uh...interesting performance, for the last ten minutes, Caroline and Becka have been badgering me about it.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I ask searching through my purse for my wallet to leave our waiter Kevin a tip.

"She's talking about the near lap dance you got from Santana," Becka says, smirking as well.

"Oh whatever. She was just flirting with the crowd to get us to stay. I do it all the time when I perform," I argue.

"But she wasn't flirting with the crowd. She was just flirting with you," Caroline says.

"Your point?"

"Her point it that girl, I think Santana has a major thing for you," Becka says.

"I sincerely doubt it. We couldn't stand each other in high school. Okay well, maybe she couldn't stand me and I just had to suffer her never ceasing barrage of insults and comments about my wardrobe. And I can't tell you how many times she threatened me with physical harm or tried to go," I put up air quotes, " 'all Lima Heights on my ass'. Regardless, we were barely tolerable acquaintances when we graduated so I doubt she would take that leap from hate to like in two seconds. Besides, I don't even know if she even knew it was me."

"Rachel, we've seen you in your high school photos. You haven't changed that much," Becka says laughing.

"So she probably did. And she so wants you," Caroline says.

"And judging by the drool that was almost trailing down you face the whole time she was singing, I think that you kinda want her too." The Hell?

"Uh no. Look, i'll admit that she is incredibly sexy and has always been. And yes iwas very much enticed by her vocal performance but i could never even think about going after her." They both look at each other, nod and then look back at me.

"So what you're saying is that you think she's very much attractive, you were incredibly turned on by her performance and the only reason you won't consider going out with her is because of your shaky past together?" Caroline tries to clarify.

"Basically."

"But you haven't seen her in like 4 years, right?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't even know she was in New York, right?"

"I knew she applied to schools in Colombia but I assumed that when she and her girlfriend Brittany both got into UCLA, she would go there." Speaking of Brittany, are they still together? I don't remember hearing about a breakup and I'm still friends with Kurt and Mercedes.

"So the only things you know about her are the way that she was in high school and..."

"The fact that she had sex with me and then threw me out on my ass."

"Let it go Becka." She scoffs, folds her arms and rolls her eyes simultaneously.

"Anyway. My point is you don't know that much about this older Santana Lopez so how do you know she hasn't changed a bit?" Is it possible that Santana has mellowed into a decent human being in the last 4 years? Is it possible that if we were to talk, i wouldn't be berated with a slew of nose, Jewish or clothing based slams? Is it possible that there is some type of romantic attraction between the two of us that could lead to a romantic relationship?

"I sincerely doubt it," I say, "So can you just let it go so we can go home and i can continue my search for the perfect Lucy?"

"Fine. We'll drop it." Becka concedes.

"Yeah, we can drop it. For now."

Alrighty. There you have it. Up next: Pezberry meeting.

Like I said, the next chapter will come Saturday or Sunday.

So as always, don't forget to review because I love to hear for you guys. Later