So two updates in one day? Cool huh? I'm surprised as well. Well this one is from Santana's POV and that's all I'm gonna say. Hope you enjoy

disclaimer: I own nothing but my mistakes.

HOLY. SWEET. HELL.

Who knew that Berry was such a slave driver when put in charge? I've only been rehearsing with her and her merry band of musical ladies and gays for like 3 days now and already I've been tripped, dropped, yelled at, scolded and hit on (which was mostly by Caroline because 98.9% of the guys here are actually gay and she has her "tendencies" when it comes to me. But who wouldn't? I mean, have you seen me in sweats and a sport bra?) Anyway, I haven't done this much work since high school. Okay sure. I go for runs almost every morning and I practice my singing with the boys and I sure as hell get a workout randomly fucking anonymous girls till they see stars but acting, singing, and dancing for 4 hours straight, 3 days in a row? Craziness. My voice, mind and body all ache.

But it hasn't been all bad. I have been able to spend those 3 days with Rachel. Now we still have an ass load of shit to work through and most of the time she's directing me, not really talking to me but regardless, it's pleasant, angst (mostly) free time together. At first, when I saw her at the Blue Mic, all I wanted to do was mess with her head a bit. Flirt with her through song, make her miss what she gave up and then, if she was willing after all these years, maybe even sleep with her just for old time's sake. But when she rejected me, I wanted to get back at her.

But something inside won't let me hurt her. Especially not after how badly she hurt me. I wouldn't wish that kind of heartache on anyone. So here I am. Working with her and every day the feelings I thought I buried with our failed relationship start to resurface. And fuck if they aren't still strong as ever.

So of course, I play around with them. I'm no less obvious about my flirting. Shameless, I know. But why not? It has been sometime since my last hook up and even though I'm starting to have feelings for Rachel again, doesn't mean I want to have sex her any less. Hell, more actually. And if you could see her in dance pants and a tank top, you'd be trying to get all up on that too. The problem? Rachel's keeping me at arm's length. I've tried to get closer to her but not much has transpired. Although she has been a bit more playful about pushing me away. Take today for example. I swear she was flirting back a bit this time. I may have been imagining things (girls can be naturally pretty flirty) but then again, the Rachel from that summer used to flirt in a certain way that is pretty special to her. She used to stand really close to me and ever so slightly find some way (whether hidden or obvious) to make physical contact. Whether the nudge of a shoulder. Or the graze of the fingertips on some bare skin. Or sometimes even something as obvious as brushing a strand of hair out of my face or holding onto my hand. Today was just a nudge of the shoulder day after I made some smart ass joke about Caroline being so far in the closet that her fashion has improved since the first time I saw her. At first, I didn't think anything of it. Or at least I didn't want to think about it. Me being still a bit hurt about how things ended between us. But when she giggled and looked at me with that coy little grin of hers that was only reserved for me that summer, I knew I wasn't making it up.

So what the fuck should I do with this info?

It's clear that Rachel's happier with us pretending like nothing happened and just being friends. Hell, she doesn't even want me to talk about that summer. I mean, sure, I spent nearly 4 years trying to pretend it didn't happen too. Sleeping with one girl after another just to get the thought of her out of my mind. Only to then kick them out on their asses with no regret like she dumped me.

But maybe I can find a way for us to start fresh.

Start over.

Clean slate.

Trust my intuition.

But if my instincts are right and Rachel does magically decide to remember everything we did together in the past and give us a second chance, how am i sure that she won't cast me aside again?

But then again, it's not like I was the fucking one to walk away from us like that whole fucking summer meant nothing. She did. After everything, she walked away. After all we did together. After all the secrets we told. The hugs, kisses and "I love you's" we shared, she picked him. One too many times I've been someone's second choice. Britt did it. She did it. How many times can someone's heart break before the pieces are too small to put back together again? I may be strong but I'm also devastatingly broken.

Broken

Fuck. So everybody's right. Kevin. Calvin. Rachel. There is something wrong with me. I'm broken. Irreversibly damaged. I'm like a broken vase with some strong ass tape on it. Covered in layers of protective adhesive to prevent me from falling to pieces and a bunch of pretty colors to hide the tape. But remove the paint and the layers and you'll find that I'm just the same old broken vase from before. Vulnerable, insecure and so unsure of so many things.

And they want me to change? How am I expected to change when I've gotten so used to hiding how I feel? Hell, I hid the fact that I like girls for years. Why can't I do the same thing with the fact that I miss being loved? Do I need to be fixed like everyone says? Is there even a way to be fixed? Or is this the way it's supposed to be? The way I'm supposed to be?

Okay, okay, okay. Way too much introspection for one afternoon (Rachel had an early morning rehearsal. Which, by definition, is a sin against humanity) and I'm in dire need for coffee.

#####

Why the fuck are there so many damn people at Starbuck's? In the afternoon? On a Tuesday? Like, is it some special day or something? Because if it is, I wasn't informed. And since I've recently become one of their frequent customers (blame Rachel, her ridiculous need for coffee and her insistence on having all musical related meetings here. My wallet has suffered a bit but it's totally worth it. Their lattes are like, fucking amazing) I feel very much offended.

When I get to the front of the long ass line (after like 20 minutes or so) guess who's standing behind the counter, grinning like a damn Cheshire cat? Starbucks's biggest Santana Lopez fan and possible stalker: Alexa something or other.

"Well haven't seen you around these parts lately," she says, jumping right into the flirting, completely ignoring the facts that A. she is working, B. I'm not really in the mood to flirt right now (if I was, I would because she does look pretty hot today even in her Starbucks get up) and C. there are like 5 other people behind me.

"Well I've been here. You just haven't," I say dismissively.

"I had to take some time off to visit my family in Ohio."

"Ohio, huh?" she nods. "Cool." I could continue this little chat by asking where in Ohio she's from and mentioning that I'm also from that fuck state or some shit like that but I really just want my damn coffee. "Now can I just have a tall black coffee?" She sighs.

"Right to the point. Okay then. So, a tall black coffee with 2 sugars, right?"

"I didn't say 2 sugars," I comment, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow.

"I know you didn't but I remember that's how you got it last time. So I figured that was how you liked it." I don't think she meant for that to be an innuendo but it sure as hell sounds like it. But then again since I'm always horny as hell just about everything hot girls say can be construed into something sexual. I guess it can't hurt to engage. See if I have a little bit of flirt in me.

I look her up and down and she smirks like she's done something amazing by remembering my coffee order.

"Well you're luck you're right," I comment.

"I guess I am. Even though you never called," she teases, picking up a coffee cup and jotting down my name before handing it to yet another pimple faced boy who takes a very obvious interest in my boobs (I guess wearing a tight, low cut, V-cut t-shirt would warrant such attention).

"Been busy," I reply pulling a ten dollar bill from my jean pocket and handing it to her. "Keep the change."

"Thanks. And I'm sure," she says taking the bill. "Well when you get less busy or are in a need of a break, hit me up. Maybe we can catch a movie or something like that." Who is this girl and why is she so determined to get me to go out with her?

Wait.

Why the fuck am I not jumping on this? Or her more accurately? I'm not seeing anyone. It's been like, weeks since I last got laid and sure, I may have some complicated feelings developing for Rachel but she's not showing any promise for anything more than friends in the near future and I have needs. Besides, I could use a break from all this musical shit.

"Fine. Let's do it," I say making up my mind.

"Do what?" she asks suddenly confused like she didn't just ask me out like a minute ago. And I just realized that all the people behind me are probably about to kill me.

"Go out. You. Me. Tonight. Dinner and dancing. 8 pm. I'll call you with all the dets later. Cool?"

"Frosty," she answers, grinning like a Cheshire cat again.

"Alright. I guess I'll see you later," I say just as my name is called.

#####

So my instincts about recognizing Alexa were right after all. It turns out that when she went to visit her family in Ohio, she went to visit them in Lima. And then she visited her friends at her old high school. Which so happens to be my alma mater, the "immaculate" McKinley High. Apparently she graduated a couple years after me. It was just sheer coincidence that we met up again.

As expected, she agreed to the dinner and dancing combo for our date or whatever. Since I'm the one with a car (not bitch notes on it now), I picked her up at her apartment. Turns out that out of that Starbucks uniform, she's much hotter. Like much, much hotter. When I picked her up, I almost had to do a double take to make sure that the girl standing outside of the apartment building was the same girl from the Starbucks. She replaced the Starbucks' apron with a blue button up, a black tie tied loosely around her neck, and a pair of black skinny jeans that accentuate her hips that only her Italian heritage could give her. And she wears skinny jeans like...just...wow. Okay, she doesn't wear them better than me but still. She let her hair hang down tonight and topped off the outfit with the sexiest black fedora. With me in my favorite red and black striped mini dress and 4 inch black pumps, we are definitely the hottest couple out tonight. As a compromise, I let her pick the restaurant while I picked the club. She picked some little Italian restaurant that disturbingly reminds me of Breadstix. Just the bread sticks aren't as good. Regardless, dinner went pretty good.

Alexa is actually pretty cool. This is the first date I've been on where the more I talked to the girl, the more I wanted to actually listen to what she has to say and not just stare at the boobs wondering what she sounds like climaxing. She's a sophomore at NYU studying physics in hopes of becoming a civil engineer. So she's pretty damn smart too.

"What the hell is a civil engineer in respects to a regular engineer?" I ask, taking a bite out of one of the "almost as good as Breadstix" breadsticks. That gets her attention and she immediately straightens up in her seat across from me.

"Well, there isn't just one type of engineer," she starts. "A civil engineer is one that constructs houses and bridges and waterways and shit like that."

"Wow. So that's what you want to do?"

"Well yeah. I'm planning on going to some developing countries to build houses and sustainable waterways that hopefully won't get destroyed the second I leave."

"Well I've burned a bunch of bridges in my lifetime; you think you could construct some new ones?" I suggest, half-jokingly.

"Only if you want them to burn again. I got a lot more classes I need to take before I can do any actual building," she says laughing and surprisingly, her laughing makes me laugh.

"Damn. Well I thought I'd ask."

She's funny, intelligent, interesting, bright, hot, one hell of a dresser and did I mention hot? Normally at this point I wouldn't even be considering a second date but hey, if things go my way (and hers) there may be a chance for one. Who knows?

After dinner, we go dancing. I pick a club (not the Blue Mic because A. who takes a date to their place of business? B. Kevin will be working tonight and I don't feel dealing with his judgmental shit. And C. they don't really have a dance floor so dancing is out of the question) that has the best drinks , the weakest security (she is only 19 after all), popular but not too "poppy" music (I love Britney but after her like, 4th comeback, that bitch really needs to take a seat ), and a great V.I.P. section that with the right connections to get in, can be the best place to get quite intimate with someone of interest.

We get to the club at around 10:30. There isn't that big of a line out tonight because it is a weekday so we get in pretty quickly. And pretty easily because it's only 21+ after 11pm. Well that and I know the bouncer and we're both hot as hell. Once inside, I immediately scan the place and notice that there aren't that many people around. But there's just enough to create a good enough club environment to make me want to stay. Music pumping. At least 30 or so people on the dance floor working up a sweat or getting all worked up. Or maybe working up a sweat while getting all worked up? Looks like some big spenders are lounging behind closed curtains in the V.I.P. section and lucky for us, the bar is pretty empty.

"So, what do you want to do first?" I ask. "Drink first or dance first?" She looks around and when her brow crinkles as she thinks, just the way she does it, I don't want to find it adorable but I totally do. "Or maybe makeout first?" I suggest testing the waters. She looks at me with narrowed eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Santana Lopez, what kind of girl do you think I am?" she asks, crossing her arms. Time to turn on the Lopez charm.

"Not sure. But I was hoping you would show me real soon." She bites her bottom lip and goddammit, why does such a simple action always turn me on?

"Well, how about we do a couple of shots? Then we dance? Sound good?" she suggests. "I don't want to waste too much before I get a chance to get closer to you." I smirk. "Not that close," she corrects.

"Damn," I say half kidding, half serious. Okay, mostly serious with a hint of joking because I really want to get really, really close to her right now.

"Well I'm sorry Miss Lopez but you have to do more than just buy me dinner (yup. I paid) to get in my pants." She leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "But I like your enthusiasm," she adds before brushing past me on the way to the bar.

It really must be a long time since I've gotten some because my body is like super sensitive right now. Like how can something as small as a fucking peck on the cheek (not even on the lips) set my entire body on fire? But something's not right. This isn't how the Lopez charm works. She's the one supposed to be all hot and bothered by the slightest of touches from me. I'm supposed to be the one in control. Not the other way around.

Okay. Time to up my game and literally woo the panties off this girl. If she isn't in my bed by the end of the night clutching my sheets and moaning my name, I've definitely lost my touch.

I join her at the bar where there are already 4 shots of Tequila (my favorite) spread out in front of her on the counter. "I wasn't sure what you wanted to drink so I kept it classic. I hope this is fine," she says innocently.

"Absolutely," I answer hopping onto the bar stool next to her. She picks up two of the shot glasses, hands one to me and raises hers.

"Shall we make a toast?" she asks.

"A toast to what exactly?"

"Um… how about a toast to first dates and if you're lucky, more?"

"Well aren't you a smug one?" I say, clinking my shot glass with hers before bringing it to my mouth and in one smooth motion, downing all the contents in the shot glass. Damn that feels good. I haven't had serious drink in a few days (with the musical and all) so the all too familiar warmth coursing through my body feels so fucking good. And relaxing.

"Hey well when I look like this," she gestures to her body, "I can' help but be confident." When she finishes, she brings one of the shot glasses to her mouth and throwing her head back, downs the shot just like I did. But, like it's some contest and she's trying to prove a point, she takes the other shot and downs it too without even wincing. Damn. Why is she so fucking hot? If I don't get her on the dance floor and pressed up against me soon, I might just lose it and take her right here on the bar. Decency be damned.

"Well I'm not going to disagree with that," I say evening the score by downing the second shot. Okay. Yeah. That buzz should come pretty soon. I think it's time to get some dancing in, maybe some club couch time. Then (if I'm lucky) a quick trip back to my apartment for a night of sweaty, fun filled release. "So dancing now?" she suggests, like she was reading my mind.

"Sure. Why not?" She smiles and hops down from the bar stool, landing in front of me. She reaches out her hand, grabs a loose hold of my collar and pulls me to my feet. She walks backwards, slowly guiding me to the dance floor. The entire time her eyes stay locked on mine. Under the dark lighting of the club and her black eyeliner, her normally brown eyes are nearly as black as her tie. And it's sexy as hell. As soon as we hit the dance floor, she turns me around, grabs a hold of my hips and pulls my ass into her front. Okay then. Not used to this when I'm out with a girl but I'll go with it. I press my ass further into her and start grinding into her to the beat. She keeps pace and when she puts her hands across my stomach and gently kisses my neck, I'm pretty sure that the heat going through my body isn't just from the alcohol anymore.

Oh. Fuck yeah.

This is going to be a fun night.

Roh uh. Now that Alexa has captured Santana's interest, what will this mean for Pezberry? Will she just be a one night stand or something more (hint hint)? Stay tuned and as always, review.

Till next time

-Jenae