Hey everyone! I finally got this chapter up! I was running low on inspiration, so I'm really sorry if this chapter is awful. Don't worry, it'll be more exciting soon, I promise! Thanks for all the reviews/follows/favourites! Oh, and I agree - I hate Finn in this verse too, but he's vital to the storyline, so he'll be back soon! Please review, I love feedback x
"In celebration of you finally finishing the fifth chapter," Rachel announced in a singsong voice as she entered Santana's apartment (again; unannounced). "We are going to that cute little bistro, Milan's, that opened last month." Santana looked at incredulously, before snorting in derision.
"That's nice, Rach, except the water there costs the same as my electricity bill. Please, we couldn't even afford the leftovers."
Rachel sighed in annoyance and bounced down on the sofa, watching as Santana flipped casually through a magazine. Suddenly, the magazine was ripped from her hands and flung across the room. Santana glared at Rachel angrily, stabbing her in the stomach with her foot.
"I was reading that." She hissed, and Rachel rolled her eyes, repositioning herself so she was kneeling.
"You never let me finish, Santana. You completely jumped to conclusions, saying we couldn't afford it," Rachel stared at Santana with her magnificently big, brown eyes, which sparkled in the midday sun filtering in through the blinds. "You know how I've been going to a bunch of different auditions for different crappy roles in different crappy musicals?" Santana nodded, wondering where the hell this was going. "Well, I finally got a callback." Santana squealed with excitement, but Rachel held up a finger to silence her. "And that's not even the best part. I got callback to play…wait for it…Evita in my one of my favourite musicals of the same name, Evita!" Rachel squealed, her mouth upturned into a huge, sparkling grin. Santana also smiled, practically leaping on her best friend and embracing her tightly, her face smushed into her neck.
"I'm so proud of you, Rach!" Santana mumbled into Rachel's skin, and the shorter brunette squealed again, giving Santana one last squeeze before breaking away, the smile never faltering.
"I'm gonna go make reservations at Milan's, okay?" Rachel leapt off the sofa, skipping out of the living room to the kitchen, where the phone was located. Santana smiled proudly at her best friend's back, laying back on the sofa.
It had been a good week. Meeting Quinn, finishing the fifth chapter of her (still unnamed) novel and Rachel getting her dream part.
Hopefully her luck wouldn't change anytime soon.
"How was your date, Miss Fabray?" Stephanie asked politely, stumbling clumsily over her feet, which were way too big for her petite body. Quinn smirked knowingly and shrugged her jacket off, dumping it in Stephanie's arms.
"Good. Entertaining. Different," Quinn stated, before turning to her assistant with a mischievous look in her eye. "Pleasurable." Stephanie thought for a moment before nodding in understanding, her pale, freckled cheeks darkening in colour. She was such an innocent, virginal lamb, nothing like the seductress who was Quinn Fabray.
"So thank you, Stephanie. You actually did something right for once." The blonde smiled evilly and Stephanie gulped, biting back tears. She nodded once before rushing off, Quinn's coat clutched to her chest.
Quinn entered her spacious office and tottered over to her desk, careful not to trip in her painfully high heels. She sunk into the cushy office chair, sighing in relief as she slipped off her shoes. At least she looked good entering the building, even though she winced with every step. But at the price her shoes had been ($600!), she had to wear them to get her money's worth out of them.
She eyed the ever-present stack of paperwork, which was by now ready to topple over at any given second. She sighed and started, scribbling away, her legs swinging absentmindedly. Before she knew it, the stack of unfinished paperwork was nonexistent, and instead she had a new pile of finished sheets. She decided she'd get Stephanie to take them away to their respective locations. She sighed and looked down at her watch. Ten past 4. Seeing as all her work was done, and she hadn't had a break, she decided to leave early. If the office needed her urgently, they'd ring.
"I'm going. Call if you need me." Quinn yelled over her shoulder as she sauntered out her office. She swept up her coat from Stephanie's grasp and glided out, leaving her colleagues in her wake.
It's what she did best.
Rachel knocked impatiently on Santana's bathroom door.
"Hey! Lopez! We haven't got all night! If we're late, they'll give our table away!" Rachel was about to knock again when the taller brunette breezed out, smelling of Dot by Marc Jacobs – a Christmas present from Rachel.
"Hmm, you smell nice. You look great though!" Rachel exclaimed gleefully, clapping her hands in excitement. Her eyes ran up and down Santana, who was clad in a classy, yet short and rather tight, black dress, paired with black heels. She hadn't had a chance to dress up in what felt like years, so it was nice to get out of her usual joggers or jeans and jumpers combo.
"You too, Rach." Santana replied honestly, smiling warmly at her best friend. "Now, come on, little one!" She took Rachel's hand and tugged her out of her apartment, skipping in her heels (which proved a bit of a safety hazard when she nearly slipped).
They hailed a cab and drove to the bistro, both of them gabbling excitedly in the back. They hadn't been to a fancy restaurant in months, so it was a nice treat, for the both of them. Also, they weren't going for no reason; they were celebrating, which made them even happier.
They stepped out together into the cold night air, and Santana tugged her jacket a little tighter round her. However, the cold was soon replaced by the warmth and coziness of the bistro. Rachel squealed with delight and joyfully went over to the desk. Santana took a little longer, looking around and taking in the amazing smells, sights and how classy everyone looked. She felt sort of out of place, but she couldn't really care.
"Here's your table, ladies." The waiter flourished them over to a small-ish table situated in the middle. Rachel flashed him a grin, batting her eyelids.
"Thank you." She purred, and Santana was shocked. She had never heard Rachel Berry be so…seductive. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and sat down, slipping her jacket off, which the waiter took, along with Rachel's. Santana noticed the waiter's fingers lingered a little too long on Rachel's hand as he swept the coats away, and she smirked. Rachel deserved a hot guy who made her feel special.
"Oh my sweet Barbra." Rachel gasped, and Santana raised her eyebrows in confusion. The shorter girl pointed to something behind her, so she whipped around, wondering what all the fuss was about.
And there, at the table just a few tables down from them, was Quinn. Her Quinn.
"It's Quinn Fabray." Rachel breathed, her eyes wide. "I'm wearing her blusher from her best selling collection, Dainty. It's…Oh, gosh, what colour is it? Innocence! That's it! Oh, sweet Barbra, she's so pretty in real life too!" Rachel babbled on, whilst Santana watched the blonde intently. So that's what Quinn's last name was. Fabray. Now she knew it, she was kicking herself. Sure, she wasn't a huge makeup lover, but Quinn's face had been plastered across magazine after magazine, newspaper after newspaper, and news site after news site. Santana could understand why Quinn was so reluctant to tell her surname. After all, she was sure the blonde was sick of being fangirling over her and asking for a picture or autograph. Santana knew she would be, if she were famous.
Santana turned back, watching in amusement as Rachel bounced up and down in her seat with excitement, clutching a napkin and Sharpie.
"Where the fuck did you find that Sharpie?"
"I always keep one in my handbag, because you never know whether A) you see a celebrity or B) someone asks for your autograph and they don't have a pen." Rachel shrugged casually, peering over at Quinn, who was oblivious to the hyperactive brunette who was ready to burst with exhilaration.
"I've got to go over!" Rachel gushed, and before Santana could stop her, the short diva was out of her seat and rushing across the restaurant, napkin and hot pink Sharpie in hand. Santana groaned and sat forward, hoping Quinn didn't notice her. She didn't want their budding friendship (if you could call two acquaintances in the park a friendship) to sour. Not just yet, anyway. Quinn seemed an interesting person, and she was her muse for her novel. If she lost Quinn, she'd lose her inspiration.
Quinn took her place at the table, smiling up at the polite waiter. She sighed and opened her menu, elbows resting on the table. When she got home, she decided to treat herself, seeing as she had shown Finn Hudson she was still boss, and she had finished that mountain of paperwork. So, she booked a table for one at Milan's. Although, at first, they didn't realize who was calling and insisted all the tables were booked, but as soon as she mentioned her name, well, she suddenly had free reign of the restaurant.
Suddenly, Quinn realized she wasn't alone. She looked up and was met with sight of a very eager, very short young brunette, who was wielding a napkin and a Sharpie. Her manic grin sort of creeped Quinn out.
"Can I help you?" Quinn asked uncertainly, placing her menu down. There goes her quiet night out.
"Yes. Please. My name is Rachel Berry and I'm soon to become a familiar face in the acting world. I want to be a famous Broadway starlet and I'm already on my way up. Anyway, as I'm destined to be a star, I have to make sure I'm always paparazzi ready, which is why I choose to wear your makeup because, even though it's a punch in the guts to my bank balance, it's always very good quality. So…" Rachel stuck the napkin and pen out. "Could I have your autograph?" Quinn nodded slowly and took the napkin and pen. She signed it quickly. To Rachel Berry, good luck in life! Love, Quinn Fabray was soon scrawled across the paper in hot pink letters. Rachel beamed one last time before scurrying off. Quinn watched as she went, and she noticed Rachel wasn't alone. There was another brunette sat at her table, taller, her skin more tanned. Wait. Quinn furrowed her eyebrows. Was that…? Santana? She hoped not. If it were, she wasn't sure she'd be able to see Santana again. God, she loved her life, she did, but she hated over-enthusiastic fans so damn much. If Santana turned out to be one…No. Santana seemed so much more intelligent than that. And although she was a pretty girl, the two times Quinn had seen her, she had never seen a scrap of makeup on her, so it didn't seem like she was into makeup that much. She shrugged and went back to scouring the menu.
Nothing, not even Santana finding out her surname, was going to stop her from enjoying her night out.