A/N: Hey guys! So sorry for the wait, but I've been working on this in my free time almost non stop to get the chapter up as quickly as possible. I have exams coming up in a week and a half, so I'm afraid there's going to be yet another extended break, but I'll be back sooner (hopefully) this time!
So, I just got back on the writing horse properly, and I'm craving some feedback! Read and review (please), guys!
Oh, Amber and Jason are both my characters, and they will both become more important later. Just sayin'.
Hope you like it!
Most people would love Sundays, but not you. For some unspeakable reason, the only time you could afford to rent out a crappy dance space was eight on Sunday morning, and you rue the day you agreed to rent it for two hours each week. You wake up at six and carefully get out of the bed from under Dani, and get ready to leave. You shower quickly and get dressed, barely remembering to snatch your keys from on top of the bookshelf when you leave. You jog down the stairs and out onto the street, turning left and heading towards the diner. You keep your walk brisk. It takes ten minutes to get to the diner from the apartment, fifteen for them to prepare your usual, five minutes to walk to the station so you can sit down and have your breakfast before a four minute ride on the subway and then walk for twenty minutes to get to the studio in time to beat the never ending line of people who'll be more than happy to use your slot if you're so much as ten seconds late. You tug your jacket closer and briefly consider introducing coffee into your diet more regularly, but you shake your head and enter the diner; you've gone this long without needing coffee to function in the morning, you're not giving in yet. Gunther starts shouting as soon as the bell announces your arrival and you shove a twenty into his chest.
"The tip is so you'll stop shouting at me when I come here." You hiss, walking up to the counter and giving the girl at the counter a look.
"Morning, Santana."
"I need food."
"Already on it's way, girl. How's your week been?"
"Oh, you know. Hell. Yours?"
"You used to work here, why don't you tell me?"
"The same?"
"Obviously." Amber has been working at the diner for a few months now, and every now and then you actually find yourself missing her old bubbly, friendly behavior. Working at the Spotlight Diner would suck all of that out of you faster than you could blink; you know that. You never had the bubbly brightness and most of your time working at the diner was spent thinking up and using different biting comments about shitty pay and suicide. Dani trained the really inappropriate humour out of you as quickly as she could manage. Amber ducks into the kitchen and comes back with a slice of banana bread.
"See you next Sunday." She says.
"Not if I see you first, loser." You answer, turning and heading towards the door.
"And don't forget to-"
"Show people your resume, I know!" Every week she called the same thing after you, and usually it pissed you off, but after a while you liked that she recognized you.
Not to mention, you've seen her dance tapes. She's pretty damn good, if you do say so yourself.
You're standing on Dani's balcony, leaning forwards against the railing and scowled at the street below you. You know you said you didn't care about Dani being fine with you being kicked out of the band, but honestly it hurt. It really, really hurt. You were still in your work uniform because you came here right after your shift finished.
"Babe, what are you doing here?" Dani's voice hit's your ears, and a whirlwind of emotions comes to life under your skin.
"I don't believe you." You grumble. You hear a sigh come from your girlfriend, and she stands beside you on the railing. You see her looking at you in the corner of her eye, but you resist the urge to look back.
"I don't believe you." She finally says. You clench your fists.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was the one who did something wrong in this situation!" You snap, turning to face her. "From what I'd gathered, girlfriends are supposed to stick up for each other!"
"Santana." The calmness of her voice forces you into silence. "Girlfriends stick up for each other, but good girlfriends turn around and tell you when you're acting like a kid. This… Whatever going on between you and Rachel? You're like little kids. It's embarrassing. I show up to practice with the boys and we all give each other sympathetic looks for a few minutes before we start working." You open your mouth but she holds up a finger to say she isn't done yet, and you can see a fire in her eyes telling you to be quiet until she's done.
"From what I've gathered, you're angry that she isn't okay with you being her understudy, and you know what? I don't blame her. I know you can find it difficult sometimes, but – just for a second – consider how she feels. I don't know about the history you two have very much, but from what Kurt has told me, you literally spent years making sure she hated herself as much as you could. I'm not judging you for that, no one is the best version of themselves in high school, but you have to leave it behind. Because to her what's happening here is that you're taking all of her hard work and shoving it back in her face like it's nothing. And I get it, I get you. You want to do it because you can and to you it is easy, but that doesn't mean you should!" Dani pauses for a moment, and frankly you're too stunned to speak.
"I know that you aren't happy about the type of publicity you've gotten from the ad, and you're in New York so stuff should be happening, but honestly. Santana, you're being mean for the sake of being of mean." She folds her arms and scowls at you. "I honestly thought you were better than that."
"News flash, Dan! I'm not the good guy! I've never been the good guy, and apparently I never will be, either!" You snap. Even as you're talking, you regret the words. You vaguely think that in this situation Brittany would cuddle and coddle you, and maybe you would've wanted that six months ago, but not now. Right now you can tell that you want to be told outright to get over yourself. Surely enough, Dani's eyes harden and the softness of hot chocolate is lost in them.
"My house isn't a place for you to bring your drama. Either get over yourself or go home." Dani says. "I'm getting changed. If you haven't made a decision by the time I'm back, you're leaving." She pushes past you and back into her apartment, and for a split second you think you shouldn't watch her go, but you turn anyway and watch her retreat into her bedroom. You bite your lip in thought and in almost no time at all she's back and looking at you with that same finality in her eyes.
"So?"
"I'm going to quit the show."
"I'm ten minutes early!"
"I'm sorry Miss Lopez the demand for the room was-"
"Woman I am ten minutes early now give me the keys to the room I paid for."
"Miss Lopez-"
"No, no, you listen to me. I have been coming to this shithole every week for the last three months, don't tell me someone else had this slot booked, I had this slot booked." You can feel the eyes of at least a dozen nineteen year olds on the back of your head but you honestly don't care right now. This is an injustice. This is an insult.
"Miss Lopez, I understand why you are unhappy but there's really nothing to be done." The woman behind the counter says. You glare at her for a moment, pouring all the hatred and frustration and anger that built up over the last three months into it, nearly smirking as she shrinks away slightly.
"This isn't over." You say, turning on your heel. No, this isn't anywhere near over.
Your girlfriend's manager is going to hear about this.
You've just finished your shift at the diner as you pull your phone out and call Dani.
"I was asleep."
"I'm on my way to your apartment."
"Is something wrong?" She asks. You shake your head despite yourself.
"No. Sort of. Not really." You sigh as you round the final corner to her apartment. "I didn't bring my keys, I wasn't expecting to need to come here. Could you-" The door opens in front of you and Dani is standing there in her pajamas, her blue hair pulled into a bun. You absently hang up your phone and step inside.
"Thanks." You murmur, waiting for her to close the front door of the apartment building. You step out of her way as she leads the way up the stairs to her apartment and when you get into the apartment you take you shoes of as she puts the kettle on. You walk out of the small alcove in the living room that leads to the front door and remain standing as she comes back from the kitchen. Things between you two have been tense since you decided to quit the show. Partly because you still think she should apologize for letting Kurt kick you out of the band, but mostly because your attempt at calling a truce with Hobbit blew up in your face. Every time you're in a room with her now she gives you looks, which you assume are her version of subtle, and it's like she's telling you she's ready for whatever 'diabolically bitchy and Santanic thing' you have planned. You're sort of really angry that whenever you try to do genuinely nice things for her she gets suspicious. Like, weren't you there for her during her pregnancy scare? When she thought she wasn't going to get the freaking part in the first place? When she nearly showed her goodies to the world in some sort of amateur film that would do nothing other than bring her down later on if she had gone through with it?
It's really hard to be nice to people when they tell you that you can't possibly being doing something nice. In any case, Rachel is refusing to live in the same building as you, so Elliot's still stuck with her, and he's wasted no time complaining to the rest of One Three Hill. Dani wants you to try talking to Rachel again, but honestly you think it's about time the diva went out of her way to do something for someone else for once.
You watch as Dani sits down on her couch facing you and pats the cushion in front of her.
"Tell me what's happening, babe."
"So…" You start, taking a seat in front of her. "You know how Kurt… Rachel and I were all in our high school's Glee Club together, right?"
"Yeah."
"The principal's finally gotten her way. The club is being disbanded, and… Apparently all of the old members are going back to McKinley for a final send off." You wring your hands together in your lap.
"And?" Dani asks. You can feel it. She's still mad at you.
"I'm scared." You sigh. "I'm scared that… I'm going to go and when I come back you'll have decided that I'm not worth it anymore. Or… I'll go and because we're fighting I'll just fall back into Brittany's arms because it always felt like it was easier with her…"
"Then go." Her voice is cold, and you look up from your hands, shaking your head.
"No, Dani, I don't… I don't want it to be easy. If I go back to Brittany I'll spend… The rest of my life feeling safe and secure, and no matter what I do, it'll never be… Hard. It'll be me and her forever, and…" You trail off. You can't say that you don't love Brittany, you do. But you think you could love Dani as well, or you might one day, and you're in New York to explore your boundaries, aren't you?
"And?" Her voice pulls you from your reverie and you blink for a moment, not missing the hopeful spark in her chocolate eyes.
"And I really want to give this a proper shot."
You storm back to your apartment and up the stairs. You jam the keys into the lock and you're about to wrench the door open and drop your bag onto the floor as loudly as you can manage when you hear an unfamiliar melody being played on the guitar through the door. You pause and listen as your girlfriend starts to sing. You listen to her sing her way through the first verse of this song you've never heard before and smile to yourself before you remember that you're standing in a dingy hallway and your creepy neighbor could come out at any given moment so you turn the key in the lock and step inside. The music stops abruptly and you remind yourself that you're actually in quite an awful mood at the moment so you dump your old Cheerios duffel bag on the floor by the door and kick your trainers off, doing your best to bounce them off the wall above the shoe basket before you storm into the living room and throwing yourself onto the couch beside Dani, who's just set her guitar on the floor.
"You're home early."
"I want to talk to Jason."
"Why do you want to talk to Jason? What's happened, babe?"
"It's the final straw. The final straw. I got there ten minutes early and they'd already given my room to someone else."
"So why do you want to talk to Jason…?"
"Because I was planning on putting the final touches on the choreography for the music video today!"
"When does it need to be ready by?"
"He was expecting the video this afternoon! I need you to call him so he can wring the neck of that bloody woman at the front desk!" A flurry of insults are bubbling up your throat but Dani's hand on your arm grounds you and she speaks before you can continue.
"I think you should call Rachel." She says. You blink at her once or twice before you answer.
"Why would I call Rachel?" You ask.
"Well, because she's a junior at NYADA in the lead up to mid-terms, which means she'd be able to book a dance studio with little trouble, and because you're going to try and get together with her and Kurt and Quinn and Blaine in like, three weeks, so maybe giving her a call wouldn't be astray anyway." She says. "Plus, I think you should treat Jason as a last resort sort of thing, rather than a 'I can get people killed on my whim' sort of thing." Her thumb is rubbing circles into your arm and you scowl at the blank TV screen for a moment before she squeezes your arm and you sigh.
"Fine, whatever, I'll call Berry."
You're waiting in the alley behind the club when the back door swings open and Dani steps out. The three of you, Elliot and Kurt plus yourself, look up at her. Your girlfriend looks straight to you, and you worry when you see the flurry of emotion in her eyes, but relax when her lips pull into a small smile.
"Kurt, I think you're going to have to come up with a new name for the band."
"Shut up." Kurt and Elliot respond in unison, and in the moment they take to frown at each other you've already stepped forwards and taken her hands in yours. You look into her dark brown eyes that you're starting to love so much and see the joy laced in fear hidden by excitement to the untrained eye.
"Are you serious?" You ask tentatively. She bits her lip and nods, and you just can't help it. In a second your hands are cupping her face and you've pulled her lips to yours before she can do anything else. You pull away after a moment and behind the stars in her eyes you can almost see your own sparkling back at her.
"What happened?"
"He came up to me, said he was with a label, said he liked my sound and offered a contract for a single, with a 'we'll see how it goes'."
"Have you signed?"
"Not before I let you see it, no." She grins and softly adds, "He's agreed to meet with us tomorrow for coffee."
"I'm so proud of you." You whisper. She beams and then Elliot breaks in between you two.
"You two have all night to be lovebirds, I think this calls for a drink. First round's on me!"
You sit on your bed tossing the phone from one hand to the other, running through a mental checklist to see if there's anything else you could possibly afford to do before you do this. You check the time – three past ten – and sigh. You dial the number and hold the phone to your ear, listening to it ring for barely longer than one chord before the other end picks up.
"Rachel Berry's phone, Rachel Berry speaking."
"Hey, it's Santana." You say. You bit your lip in the silence that follows and frankly you're surprised she hasn't hung up on you yet.
"Hello, Santana. It's been quite a while since we last spoke."
"Yeah, it has-"
"If you're calling to apologize I'm afraid to inform you that I'm not going to accept, on the grounds that I don't need your acceptance to be happy."
"Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a favour." You say, cringing at the way she scoffs down the speaker.
"Why would I do anything for you?"
"I could give you a few reasons. One is, I must be desperate if I'm coming to you. The second is that we were friends for a little bit in there somewhere." You chew your bottom lip for a second and sigh again, releasing it. "I know it hasn't been ideal, but I really need a hand, Rach." There's another extended silence before she replies.
"What do you need?"
You take your seat in the booth beside Dani, sliding her iced tea towards her and taking a sip of your hot chocolate. The two of you have arrived early, partly because you wanted to have enough time to get your drinks before Jason got there, and partly because Dani has a late streak and she was terrified of missing the appointment. You can see the way she's tapping her finger on the table nervously and you give it a second longer before you reach out and close your hand over hers. She looks up at your from her drink and you look at her seriously. She swallows and pulls her hand back into her lap. You reach under the table and link your hand with hers again and squeeze it softly.
"Babe." You say. She sighs and lifts her glass to her lips with her other hand, sipping it before she sets it down again and answers.
"I know." She mumbles. Before you can say anything else the door to the café opens, signaled by a tinkle of a bell, and you both look up to see a man walk through the door, and the way that Dani's grip tightens tells you that this is Jason Strom, the man that had approached her the previous night. He searches the room for a moment before spotting Dani, smiling and coming over, but your eyes are stuck on the door as it opens again and none other than Rupert fucking Campion strides in. You lower your head and curse under your breath in Spanish for a few seconds before looking up and smiling at Jason.
"You must be Santana." He greets, holding his hand out. You release Dani's hand to shake it, but return it to hers immediately afterwards.
"You must be Jason." You smirk. He chuckles and takes a seat in the booth across from Dani.
"Which means, logically speaking, this must be Dani." He smiles. "You've got a really talented girlfriend here. You should keep her."
"That was the plan."
"I could argue that Santana is pretty talented as well." Rupert Campion's voice wafts over your head and you can't help but grind your teeth.
"Mr. Campion," You start carefully. "This meeting is sort of important." You say. He ignores you completely and takes a seat beside Jason, across from you.
"Rupert! Fancy meeting you here. Are you implying that I may be able to double contract here?"
"Oh, oh no. No. Santana, here, is a part of my grand plan."
"Your grand plan? Do tell."
"My head choreographer had a slight, um, mental snap." Campion looks towards you for a second, "Discovered his spouses second family, messy business." He turns back to Jason and continues. "Santana was the understudy for Rachel. I want her to be my new choreographer." At least four things happen around the table at this point. You're too stunned to register Dani's glass hitting the table and nearly toppling, and you can sort of hear Jason exclaiming something about you knowing Rachel Berry, and in your short moment of tunnel vision, all you can see is Rupert Campion's smug little smile, and one, clear thought strikes you.
You could be back telling Berry what to do, in a completely legitimate and not-of-your-own-accord manner.
Dani is about to sign a contract for a single with a record label, you're about to be put back on the payroll of a musical that is going to run ridiculously successfully – Hobbit wouldn't allow it to be any less – and you can still feel your girlfriend's hand tight in your own.
Damn. Life is pretty good.
You walk into the familiar rehearsal room and dump your duffel bag on the floor to the left of the door, briefly wondering why there never seem to be any other rooms available. You take a few steps, getting a feel for the spring in the floorboards and roll your neck, listening to it pop a few times before you look back at Rachel Barbra Berry.
"This is really good of you." You say, remembering Dani's final reminder – "Be the bigger person, Santana." – and resist the urge to roll your eyes when Rachel scoffs under her breath. You know if Dani were here she would elbow you, or give you a look to tell you to reinforce the good vibes that you're trying to give off, but instead you change the subject.
"Quinn's coming down in a couple weeks." You say, beginning to stretch. The way Rachel starts doesn't escape your notice and you continue with nonchalance.
"She's staying with me and Dan, and the three of us were wondering if you, Kurt and Blaine were available to meet up before the reunion." You stand tall before bending forwards and touching the floor. You pop your head up and look at her again.
"Are you going to that, by the way?" You ask. She shifts her weight across her feet and folds her arms across her chest and you look down so she can't see you rolling your eyes. Because, really, if you hold it in too many times your eyes may well jump out of your face in protest.
"Yes, actually, I was planning on going to the reunion. As for the six of us having a meeting beforehand, I'm not so sure, because-"
"It's okay, Berry." You interrupt, standing straight again. "I wasn't expecting you to be keen on it, but you should give Quinn a lunch or something. She's coming down for a full week so she can catch up with as many of us as possible before the mess that will be Lima, Ohio." You walk across to your duffel bag so you can start setting up the speakers, again noting how she bites her lip.
"I'll-I'll think about it." She spits out. "How's Dani?" She asks. You smile at her knowingly and pull your phone out of your pocket, pointing it at her as you answer.
"Don't worry, Yentl, your matchmaking efforts have yet to be ruined. Dani's wonderful. Her second album is coming along really well, which is why I'm here." You talk, scrolling through the songs on your phone before you get to the right one. "Jason – her manager – wanted me to choreograph the music video."
"I'm sure it's nothing too strenuous, then." Rachel's breath hitches as soon as the words have left her mouth, and they linger in the room for a moment. You make a point of making sure your phone is securely plugged into the stereo before you look at her again.
"That's two faux pas this conversation, Rachel. You're total lack of charm is showing." You grit your teeth to stop yourself from saying anything else. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't infer things about my girlfriend, and I'd also like it if you didn't act bitter about what happened on Funny Girl. So, maybe, try not to do both at the same time?" You run a hand through your hair and pull it back into a ponytail – so very cheerleader of you, you know – and let your arms rest by your sides, shrugging.
"I need to get to work now, so, as lovely as having one half of a conversation with you is, you should probably go." You say.
"I'm glad to see you haven't changed at all, Santana." She scowls.
"Gold star Berry, always the same…" You mutter, as soon as she's left the room.
"Tell me again why Campion decided to come looking for you to be the new choreographer when he easily could've just found someone with some, you know, credentials?" Dani asks, moving from the sink to beside you on the couch, wiping her still damp hands on her pants.
"Because in one of our conversations when he'd just casted me, I told him about how I've assisted in the choreography of several nationally acclaimed cheerleading routines. He really liked the story of Rachel and I already knowing each other, I know most of the choreography for Rachel's part, I know most of the cast… I don't have any credentials so hiring me is relatively cheap, and I'm new to the business so I'm not exactly going to crash in and try to change the whole vision because I haven't been there from the start." You say. "See? Plenty of reasons."
"And a ton of luck?"
"And a ton of luck."
"And a nice girlfriend?" She teases and you turn your head to look at her. You tap her on the nose happily and nod.
"And a gorgeous girlfriend."
You watch the email move from your outbox to the sent folder, and even then wait thirty seconds before you risk closing your laptop. You set it down carefully on the coffee table and lie back, letting your head rest on the back of the couch and your eyes, finally, close.
"I hate my job." You groan. A hand ruffles your hair from behind you.
"You love your job."
"I do love my job." You mutter, opening your eyes and scanning the ceiling. The off-white surface held no blemish until it reached just above the stove, where it's only slightly darker – presumably because of the pancakes episode a few weeks ago.
"I hate Rachel Berry." You mutter.
"While I can't say you love her, you don't hate her either."
"Why are you always right." You grumble, lifting your head up. "My weekend was not relaxing." You look at Dani, who is smirking across at you from the recliner.
"You look relaxed."
"I am relaxed." Her smirk twitches slightly at the corners of her mouth.
"I'm not relaxed."
"I can see that."
"You aren't helping."
"Yes I am."
"No, you're not." You say, sitting up straight. Her smirk finally widens into a smile, and she shows off her teeth to you for a second before answering.
"I totally am." She's grinning at you now, and you can feel your resolve breaking. You put your hands over your eyes in protest.
"No, Dani, no, you can't just smile and magically make everything better."
"Yes I can."
"No you can't!" You stand up, still covering your eyes, going to hide in the bedroom. She's not doing this to you, not this time. You're going to sulk, dammit. Your shoulder hits the wall and you're about to run into the bedroom when a pair of arms snake around your waist and lift you up. You scream and kick the air with your legs in protest.
"No, Dan, babe, put me down! Put me down!"
"Not until you admit my smile fixes everything!"
"Put me down!" She swings you around and you yelp in surprise as she parades you back out into the living room.
"Admit it or I'll sit on you!" She stops for a second and you stop moving as well. You both stay like that for a moment before she shakes you in her arms.
"This is your final chance, Lopez."
"Never." You hiss.
"Alright." She starts walking towards the couch and you start wriggling again.
"Dani, stop!" You keep going but you know that she just isn't going to stop. She dumps you onto the couch and sits on your stomach. She's beaming down at you and you move to cover you face with your hands again but they're pinned to your sides.
"Get off me!"
"This'd be so much faster if you just admitted that my smile makes everything better." Her eyebrows lift slightly and you clamp your mouth shut in response. Her eyebrows lift a little more before she scrunches them smile and grins at you and you concede.
"Fine, fine! You win!"
"And?" She prompts.
"Your smile could make a baby stop crying."
"There it is." She smiles. You expect her to lean in to kiss you, but instead she gets up and starts walking towards your bedroom.
"Where are you going?" You ask.
"What?" She asks, looking over her shoulder at you. "You told me to get off." She vanishes into the room and you lie there for a moment, inspecting the ceiling once more.
It's unfathomable. Your girlfriend is a bigger tease than Quinn Fabray herself.