I think from now on, I shall update daily :) I have nothing better to do but to feel passion for writing. Here is the second chapter! Thank you for reading!
"Quinn! Quit it! Scoot the fuck over!" Santana sat up from her bed and glared at her blonde friend through the dark.
"Shhh… I'm trying to sleep…" Quinn tossed in her sleep not realizing that she's talking. She scooted even closer to Santana's side of the bed.
"Fuck this!" Santana got up and went out to the living room.
"Every fucking night it's like this! I hate sharing a bed!" Santana slid the sliding door and went out on the balcony. She needed air. The adventures of today turned her insides out and her emotions driven wild.
They lived in a studio apartment and their bed was only a twin size. They barely fit. They didn't have a couch or tables. Just a lamp and a bed with food scattered everywhere.
Quinn and Santana didn't plan on staying for more than a few weeks, but Santana's been coward. Their ass has been stuck there for three months now and Santana hasn't made any progress.
Santana propped her elbows on the railings and looked at the city. She sighed heavily. She knows she hasn't done shit and she's been dragging Quinn with her.
Thankfully, Santana got a job at Hooters as a waitress. She's actually the favorite there so she gets a lot of tips and gets paid a lot. Quinn got a job at a small, local bookstore. She didn't really do anything other than serve coffee to old people. They were lucky enough to find jobs in the city. It took them three weeks to find a job but they got them.
Los Angeles is a crazy ass city. The traffic is always so horrible. They got around by walking and riding the bus, it saves money and gas. The air is so polluted they inhale nothing but smog. It's always hot and humid. Whatever, Brittany loved it and so did Santana.
Santana thought about their first week in L.A. She watched Brittany dance in a local play produced by some not famous person. As usual, Brittany outshined everyone else. Of course, Santana and Quinn hid in the far back where Brittany would never spot them. She didn't pay attention to the story much, just Brittany. She hasn't seen the girl in four years and watching her pulled on her heart strings.
The Latina sighed again. She looked down at the cars below her. It'll be easy to commit suicide. She could just jump from the seventh floor and down onto oncoming traffic. Santana shook her head and went back inside the empty apartment. She looked at her watch and it's only 11:45.
She went back in the room and turned on the lamp. Santana put on daisy dukes, red knee high socks, white Nike's sneakers and her Cheerios jacket. She's going out and get some fresh, polluted air. She turned off the lights and went out to the city.
Brittany tried sleeping, but she couldn't. It's 11:45 and sleep seemed to never come to her.
"I'm going for a drive…" She shook her head and got up.
"Quinn never called me back." She looked at her cell phone in disappointment. She checked her phone three times for either a text, a voicemail or a call to happen any moment. "Stupid bitch never called me back." The blonde did her signature pout everyone felt victim to.
Brittany got out of her house and into her yellow buggy.
She drove around downtown, just driving to places. Screw the gas prices, Brittany needed to think.
She started thinking about her past with Santana. The way they laughed, hugged, kissed, touched, tickled, snuggled, and just all the lovely things in the world. Brittany loved the way how peaceful and tranquil Santana looked whenever she slept after they have made love.
Santana saw the headlights coming faster and faster right at her and it wasn't going to stop. She had the right of way and if the asshole hits her, she can sue to get money so they can actually afford another bed. She is standing her ground to the very end. What does she have to live for? Nothing. Brittany is done with her.
Brittany didn't realize it but in the middle of thinking about Santana, she is close to hitting a girl just ahead of her in the cross walk. She pressed on the brakes as hard as she can. If she pressed on any further, her foot would have pierced through her gas pedal and car.
Santana jumped back, barely escaping the cars' screeching and abrupt halt that could have possibly ended her life.
She heard the girl slam her hood with fisted hands that will surely indent angry marks and she screamed at Brittany with such a bitch voice.
"Hey douchebag! Next time, leave the day dreaming at home or in class! Not in the fucking road! Pinche la cabrona!"
Santana couldn't see who the idiot is driving the car because the headlights were blinding her but she knows she made her point.
Brittany's mouth fell open. She didn't only almost kill someone in front of her, she almost ran Santana over!
"Hey asshole! I'm talking to you! Get the fuck out of the damn car!" Santana didn't give a shit, she needed to vent. She needed to get her anger out. "I. AM. TALKING. TO. YOU!" She slammed the car hood again.
Brittany felt the anger surge through her body. Seeing Santana again after four miserable years didn't help her now. Maybe she should have just gone through with it and hit the girl that nearly killed her heart and haunts her every night. Brittany turned on the light inside her car and turned off the headlights. She isn't going to say sorry. She wants Santana to see her face and be the sorry one.
Santana's smirk soon disappeared. Her arms lay limp on her sides, her legs remained statuesque and immobile, her throat became drier than the Sahara desert and her heart thump fast as it sank lower into her acid filled stomach that's boiling.
Brittany could see the pain and discomfort she is causing the girl in front of her. Good because she sure as hell deserved it.
Santana look dead ahead into the blue eyes that glared at her. Her eyes, they're empty. There's no shine, no glimmer and no life in those eyes like before. She knows that it's because of her; it's her fault. Santana's voice is horse and dry, but she managed to say, "Brittany…"
The blonde's face turned soft and her heart started dancing in her ribcage when she heard Santana say her name. Then, she remembered how Santana abandoned her, her heart, them! She can't go back to the person who hurt her the most, even if it's the girl who has her heart forever.
Santana slowly and carefully moves her legs over to the driver's side of the car. They never looked away for their gaze. As Santana reached out to open Brittany's car door, the blonde locked her car with the button.
"Brittany, please!" Santana started knocking on the car window with her fists, begging. "Brittany, please! Please talk to me!" She is desperate to say sorry to the blonde but not like this. She needed to hug the blonde, to say sorry, to kiss her, to comfort her like before.
Brittany looked away from the chocolate eyes she adored so much for years. Now, she never wanted to see and get lost in them, and right now she's losing herself.
"Brittany! Please! Let's talk!" Santana banged once more at the window.
Little rain drops started pouring from the dark sky. Soon it started building up to actual rain.
*HONK!* *HONK!* "Move it!" A man called behind them.
Brittany turned on her headlights and pressed on the gas. Her car went from 0 to 45 in a second and she soon started disappearing into the horizon of the wet road. What the fuck would she say to the girl that tore her heart apart in a billion pieces? She knows that she had done the right thing, but she regretted it.
"BRITTANY!" Santana screamed out after the girl. Her voice seemed to echo throughout the city and Brittany heard her clearly in the car.
"Hey, since the person in the car wasn't interested, I can pay for you instead." The fat and smelly man rolled his car window down and bribed and looked at the Latina hungrily.
"Fuck off." The Latina scoffed and stuck her left middle finger out to the poor, sick asshole. With that, Santana headed home back to her place in the rain sulking in pain.
Rain was not the only thing that poured that night, but also tears escaped from Santana and Brittany's eyes and heart had fit in perfectly well with the weather.