A/N: This time I decided to try a little Dianna POV. I am not an Achele shipper, but I do think their friendship is remarkable and sweet: more than just best friends, better than sisters, more solid than romance. If you know what I mean. Let me know how you feel about it, and what you want to happen next! Sorry it's taken so incredibly long to post a new chapter; I was away from my laptop for a while. Also, for all Monchele fans, LEA AND THEO BROKE UP! I'll be integrating that into the next chapter!
"Dianna, where's Cory and Lea?" asked Ryan, shouting over the large karaoke machine Jenna and Naya were playing around with. Mark was chatting with Kevin by the kitchen as they pigged out over the last pepperoni pizza, and Heather, nearly as ditzy as the character she played, was doing some dance-like spins in the center of Cory's living room.
"Erm… I'm not sure," I replied, hurriedly trying to cover up the fact that I had an inkling what might be going down in Cory's old drum room. "I think they're rehearsing together."
Ryan gave an amused smile, like he was the adult and we were just little tweens. "Talk about dedicated to your work!"
"That's one way to put it," I muttered under my breath, flashing him a brilliant smile and taking the opportunity to flee. Thank god he was so oblivious.
I grabbed a Pepsi from the cooler by the basement and gently tapped on the door to Cory's oh-so-sacred-and-sentimental drum room. "Hey guys," I said, "um… it's Di. Can I, like, come in? You busy or…?"
Cory's voice was husky. "Yeah, come in."
I slipped into the half-dark room. Light fell across Lea's face, so relaxed and unlike the creased forehead and wrinkled nose I was accustomed to seeing next to me every night. She had dozed off sitting with her legs in Cory's lap, fingers intertwined, cheek against his shoulder. And Cory was sitting there with a truly Finn-esque expression on his face: dumb-founded.
"I was – we were talking and she just – I dunno." He gestured helplessly towards her sleeping body. "We weren't, like, doing anything."
"Cory," I said strictly.
"Fine, we kissed. And it was amazing. It was like, so awesome. I think she likes me, I really think she does."
I took a seat across from him. "What are you gonna do?"
"About?"
"Theo, Ryan, everybody. Trust me, the rest of the cast has seen this coming from a mile away. The crew, not so much. And, of course, Theo, who just happens to be her fiancé."
"Buzzkill," Cory responded, pretending to pout. "No, seriously, I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do. All I know is – is that right here, with her next to me, it's like, all I need." He gazed at her upturned face, a look so full of tender love that I felt self-conscious being there. "She's so beautiful, Di."
"I know," I said softly. Lea was my best friend. We looked out for each other, no matter what. If she needed me at 3 in the morning, I'd be there, no questions asked. I loved her in a different way from Cory, but that didn't mean I loved her any less. "She is."
Then, sensing that they (who am I kidding? He) wanted his privacy, I leaned forward and pecked Lea's cheek, then tip-toed out of the room, carefully closing the door behind me. When I straightened up, half the cast was staring at me, arms crossed.
"What's going on in there?" Chord asked, trying to open the door.
"N-nothing," I stammered, blocking him from the doorknob. He crossed his arms, determined.
Heather and Amber exchanged haughty looks; they knew what had happened. Naya, who was laughing at Mark, stopped when she saw the serious expression on everyone's faces. "Whoa, who just turned the temp down by fifty degrees?" she asked. "What gives?"
"We're pretty sure Monchele is happening," answered Chord, pointing to the door I was guarding, "and that Dianna is involved."
"Hey, guys, what's going on?" It was Matthew, who joined our little throng.
Jenna turned to him. "Cory and Lea are doing something in there, and Di is, like, their bodyguard or something."
"I'm going to pretend I'm not included in this drama and I'm gonna leave," he said immediately, turning around.
"Hold it!" Mark grabbed him by the arm. "You obviously know something."
"Hey, man, I've seen enough romantic drama on Broadway. I don't need it here."
"Guys, can we just move into the living room?" I asked, shooing everyone out of the way. Of course, that's when Cory decided to appear, his face immediately falling once he saw everyone staring at him.
"Hi…" he said. "Um, what's up?"
"Bad timing," I hissed at him.
"Where's Lea?" asked Heather.
"Still asleep," he replied.
"You were 'rehearsing', were you?" Naya wiggled her eyebrows.
"Guys, stop," I ordered as Cory flushed red. "Oh, look, it's almost midnight! Guess we should leave."
"Fine." Reluctantly, they began packing up and departing. I was heading into the drum room with Cory when I got a text from Chris: Just so u know, this so isn't over yet. Kurt hummel will get 2 the bottom of this ;)
I texted back a quick good2no. cu tmr. gnite 33 and shut my phone off.
"Hey, Lea," I whispered gently, shaking my best friend and tugging at her hair. "Wake up. Party's over."
She opened her eyes blearily. "Oh. Okay."
"Ready to go back to our place?" I asked, amused by how disoriented she looked.
"Sure." She stood up, stretched, and looked shyly at Cory. "Hey."
"Hey," he replied. She glanced at me. "It's cool," he said, opening his arms. She buried her face in his chest and I half-looked away to give them privacy.
"I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early," she said softly, running a finger gently over the contours of his face. "Call me later."
I could feel his eyes following her like some sort of magnetic force even as we walked out of the room, arms linked together. She remained silent while I turned on my Audi A4 and backed out of Cory's driveway. A few miles into our short route home, she reached for my hand, pulling it onto her lap.
Staring ahead at the road, I knew without a doubt what she was thinking. Now, everyone knew about her and Cory, and there was no doubt that craziness was bound to ensue as a result of that. I squeezed her hand back and we drove the rest of the way, lost in our thoughts but bound together by the same what-ifs.
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