Title: Locksmith
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8.4k
Summary: See, you've never really been one for bright ideas. Sure, you're phenomenal at revenge plans and being a total bitch, but when it comes to genuinely decent ideas, you're lacking to say the least. But this one? This one could actually work.
Notes: Glad you're all enjoying this! If you haven't seen the film, it's well worth it. Seth Rogen is hilarious and so is Elizabeth Banks.
/
By the time you've finished unpacking everything, it's gone midnight.
Everyone's yawning and stretching, and you plop yourself down on the curb outside the garage, tugging your coat around you as the wind blows, looking up into the night sky and you think about the day. You've got most things ready, which means it's time to start filming and Artie's overseen hiring all the recording equipment, so you know that's in good hands and Kurt is shockingly good at arranging everything else. They've all been leaning on you to approve things, and it's felt good to be the head of all this even though you're not sure how it came about.
If it wasn't for all your friends agreeing, you wouldn't be here right now and you wouldn't be able to make your idea come alive. You wouldn't be feeling this buzz of excitement and ambition burning in your chest from thinking that might be the path to riches and fortune. Like your very own version of a leprechaun and you don't feel like it's been all you at all – everyone's chipped in – but you're cool with heading up this thing. You think it's going to work out.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of chatting behind you, and you peer over your shoulder to see Brittany wheeling Artie out, helping him pull down the creaking garage door before he locks it up, the others huddling and wandering off with a wave and a small goodbye. You're not entirely comfortable with the lack of locks on the place though, where your focus is at – you could probably hacksaw that one off – but this place is rough and there haven't been too many wandering eyes in the time you've spent here. Maybe the reputation of it has swayed potential visitors, for which with what you're doing, is good.
You smile as Brittany and Artie approach you, and you're tired as hell and need a bath, or maybe just to collapse on the sofa with your best friend, flick something on Netflix to fall asleep to. Artie's mom has been waiting down the road for the past five minutes, not wanting to be caught in a place like this – you don't blame her, she probably likes her tyres – and he insists on wheeling himself there instead of being helped.
"It's all good, my moms only down there," he waves his hand off in the opposite direction, shrugging. "You two get home safe, okay?"
Brittany comes up beside you and loops her arm through yours, nodding at Artie who bids you a final farewell and spins around, heading off down the sidewalk. You turn yourself, needing to head in the opposite position and you begin walking together, feeling the chill in the air less with Brittany pressed against you. She's always so warm, and makes you feel warm inside and it's one of the many things that you love about her. It's like your bodies are just used to being in close contact, and that thought comes with the next… What it'll be like to be with her. What it's going to be like.
Is it going to be natural? Will everything just come naturally to you both as you handle each other? You really don't know, but a lot of people say sex is like dancing, and you two can dance together for sure. She's your favourite person to dance with because she just takes the lead and controls your arms and movement and you'd be embarrassed to be anyone else attempting to match your skill level because you just flow.
You're kind of hoping that's what's going to happen when you film your scene together. That you'll just fit, like a puzzle piece you didn't know you were missing.
Only in the sexual sense, though. Obviously.
"What are you thinking about?" Brittany whispers, making you jump. You were really in your head.
"Just about the movie and stuff," you explain, and it's not a lie. It's just not the truth. You were thinking about your scene together, and that just happens to be in the movie.
Brittany eyes you for a second, but then you're at your apartment complex and she chooses not to reply, instead pulls you into the lobby, heading up the stairs and opening the door to your flat.
It's cold as hell in here, but not as cold as outside and you busy yourself with lighting a few candles and grabbing a blanket off the armchair before Brittany comes over and you slump down on the couch, shoulders pressed together as you tug the blanket over you. It's a normal thing for you to do – it's always cold in here, and even if it wasn't, you'd still snuggle – and you reach over for the remote, flicking on the television as it's the cheapest entertainment to run in this place. You don't even have Wi-Fi.
However, Brittany's thoughts are clearly still on the path that you were on walking back here, and she looks at you from the side, eying your profile and you lift the corner of your cheek, vision sliding to look back at her. "What?"
"I can't believe we're filming tomorrow," she answers, and you instantly think we means you two, but you don't see panic in her eyes and decide to interpret her words meaning filming as whole. Like starting to record everything. You don't even know when your scene is with Brittany, but you know it's only been split into a few days and being one of beginning scenes, you're guessing it's probably going to be on the first or second day of filming.
"I know, it's so weird," you reply and feel Brittany's body warmth seep into yours again. You shuck off your boots and tuck your legs beneath you, leaning more into your best friend and you tilt your head down on her shoulder, cuddling her further but resisting the urge to wrap your arm around her middle. You wouldn't usually think it was weird, but you're more aware of touching her than ever after discovering that you're going to be able to map all the secret parts you haven't come to know yet. "It's like, coming to life."
Brittany giggles and the movement makes you shake, so you tilt your head up to look at her. "You make it sound like a zombie," she says and grins, and you match her laugh, sitting up to look at her properly.
"If zombies make us rich, then that's fine with me," you retort, playfully and she smiles at you in a way that grips at your chest.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispers, and you don't think she meant to say it by the way her face drops slightly, but she quickly puts a small smile in replacement and leans against the back of the sofa, resting her head in her hand. "Do you know what's the weirdest, though?"
You cock your head to the side and narrow your eyes. "What?"
Brittany pauses, bites her lip but then blinks slowly as she answers, "That it's not going to be a rumour anymore."
For a second, you don't understand, but then your mind flicks back to the only thing you know is constantly a rumour between you and Brittany – not just you, you have loads of them about you and none of them you care for – and you know she isn't talking about zombies. She's referring to you two sleeping together, and you guess it was going to come up as Kurt made that one comment about it, but you didn't realise Brittany would pick up on it as much as you did.
You were wrong.
"Right?" You get out through a breathless laugh, acting like that didn't catch you off guard but Brittany doesn't buy it, narrowing her eyes and clenching her jaw, but a smile on her lips. "Next time someone assumes we've had sex, we won't have to deny it anymore," you try, realising you sound dorky as hell but she's looking at you in a certain way and your mind kind of goes blank when she does that. "That'll shut them up."
Brittany laughs, lifting her arm out of the blanket and picking at the fabric, eyes trained on the movement, and she keeps quiet for a beat too long. Long enough that you must go back over your words to make sure you didn't say anything to offend her because you thought after her bringing up the rumour, that she'd have more to say. After all, you've spent so much time explaining to people that you really are just best friends, and never crossed the platonic line, regardless of what it looked like to everyone else. It was just something you got used to.
So, for her to not have anything to follow up with, you decide to take the lead. She obviously said it for a reason and you're now wondering if she's hesitant about it, or like, ready to change her mind.
That would be super disappointing, but of course you'd agree. She's your best friend and you care more about her feelings than you do your own.
"Britt?" You call, softly, and blue eyes snap to you, sparkling in the candlelight. "Are you getting cold feet?"
Her head jerks back and she shakes her head instantly, sending cool relief through your core. "No, no," she enforces and shifts forward, the hand playing with the blanket shooting over to grab at the one on your lap, holding it backwards. "Definitely not," she explains, and you release a slow exhale. Thank God. You really didn't want her to pull out. "I just don't know if we should like… Talk about it?" She asks, screwing her face up like she didn't mean to say it that way.
But you know what she means. If you're going to sleep together, it could change the entire dynamic of your relationship and you don't want to fuck it up. She's the best thing that ever happened to you, always being there as your friend, your therapist, your blanket and sometimes, just by physically close to her makes you feel less anxious. Like she knows how to calm you down, even when you don't know how to do it yourself.
"Like, the actual physical part of it," Brittany adds on and you feel stupid for a second. She meant what you're going to do, not how it's going to affect you and you're glad you didn't spew that out. That could've got awkward.
It's still important though, because having sex with anyone is an intimate action – even if half the time it feels more like a pleasurable process than anything or at least has done with you and your countless partners – but to have it with your best friend, you've got to respect her boundaries and find the most comforting and correct way of doing it. You've got to figure out each other's bodies, and hot spots and erotic zones and even thinking about telling her about the spot on your neck is making heat pool in your groin. But you still need to actually make sure what she's comfortable with in a sexual manner, and what she wants and doesn't.
So, you ask just that, propping yourself further up and twisting your body until your facing her, and you urge her to do the same, so you're face to face, getting into serious mode. You need to get your head screwed on right if you're going to do this, and clearly communicate with her to keep your friendship intact. Even if it's naturally going to develop because you'll know what it's like to be inside her, and what it's like to make her come.
"Is there anything you want me to do or, like… not do?"
You're not sure if that's the way to start, but you've never been in a position like this. Usually, you just let your body do the talking but this isn't like any other time and care is something you'll have to throw a large amount of in. This is more than difficult to do, and because it's unchartered territory, you want to take advantage of having such a close bond with her that she knows your every secret, and you know hers, and you can use that as a navigation guide. She knows you better than you know yourself.
Apparently, Brittany can sense that you're trying to do just that, and so she allows the comfort that surrounds you two and answers honestly. "I don't think so," she shrugs, and your eyes bug open a little. Free reign? On Brittany? This has got to be a dream. "I'm pretty game for most things seeing as there isn't much I haven't done."
You really try not to think of putting her in unspeakable positions, but you shut off that part of your mind as quickly as possible. This is serious. This is business.
"Cool, cool," you bob your head and Brittany giggles a little, not even looking shy that she basically said you could fuck her in the ass, and she'd be okay with it. You can't even begin to think about that because you want to explore the other area first. The things you can do with a vagina are just incredible and you want to see how many ways you can make her come and shit, you need to go back to the conversation. "Do we, uh–" You begin but your throat is dry as the desert and you swallow thickly. "Do you want me to get some lubes and stuff?"
Brittany holds your eyes for a second, and you desperately want to know if she's feeling as hot and bothered as you are right now. She's not showing it if she is, and you have no idea if you're showing it but she's not reacting badly. That's a good thing, right?
"No," she answers, almost too confidently and your eyes involuntarily open wider. "I won't need anything to get me…" She trails off, her breath finishing the sentence and your mouth drops open when you realise she's telling you that you make her wet, basically. Dear fucking God, someone needs to send out an ambulance because you're two seconds away from a cardiac arrest. "If you know what I mean."
Still, you'd really like to not be picking up on the obvious signs and know you need to cool off, and grab a bottle of water, and so you don't reply immediately and take a few seconds to come up with another plan. Playing it coy could work, and it'll give you a minute to grab a drink and break eye contact with her because you've been holding it for the past two minutes and you can feel yourself hardening in your jeans.
(You really don't need to get a boner right now.)
(You've gotta save that for the scene and not find another reason to rehearse a little prior to the filming.)
(You're already running out of reasons not to suggest running through it just once before.)
So, you get up, shifting away from the blonde and heading to the fridge, opening it up and grabbing two bottles, waiting until your back is to her and she can't see the way you release a long breath through a small 'o' in your lips, like you'd do in meditation. You think that'll help calm you a little.
"I don't think I know what you mean," leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you want to curse yourself for flirting a little, but it's just what you do with her and you can't change that area of your friendship because you flirt all the time and if you just didn't anymore, it'd twist that dynamic. Half the reason you feel so comfortable around her is because you can be yourself, and that involves flirtation. It's just who you are, and she does it, too, with you and loads of other people, so it's not weird.
"Let me be clear then," she says, her voice stronger and you turn around to find her peering at you through long lashes, biting her lip with a mischievous grin playing at her lips, over the back of the sofa. "I won't need help getting wet," she states, and you nearly drop the bottles in hand, and you'd like to blame it on condensation, but you just got them out the fridge. "It's not like you're bad to look at," she shrugs and it's so blazon that you force yourself to mirror it, giggling and kicking the fridge door shut as you wander back over to her. If she's comfortable being like this, then you can be, too.
"Good, because I won't need anything to maintain, either," you reply, throwing her a wink and she laughs loudly, reaching out to pinch one of the bottles of water and opening up the cap, taking a long swig.
"You know, I'm kind of excited to see if you're all talk," Brittany quips and you dribble out the sip you take, making her scrunch her nose up. She really is being honest. "Gonna be exciting to see if you can keep up with me."
Oh, so that's how she wants to play it. Well, you're Queen Bee at flirting, and getting girls into bed and you're confident as hell.
"If I talk the talk," you lift your brow and smirk. "Then I walk the walk, Britt," you say, a little smug but you're not boasting. You just really know how to fuck. You've spent a lot of time invested in the research of the female body – also known as sex – and you're not shy with the things you can do. Being the way you are, you have to know how to use what you've got as not everyone is totally chill with it, but it's harder not to be when it's better than one attached to a man.
"Thing is, though…" You lean forward, confidence pulsing through you as the blonde narrows her eyes but leans in with you until your faces are closer together, like you're about to whisper a stage secret. "You're gonna wanna do it again, so it's more exciting for me to see how you struggle with that."
Brittany's face drops, and you're not only confident, but she's really boosting your ego because she's pulling back, blue eyes now dark and it's the first time you've ever thought she's wanted to cross that line. This is the first time she's ever looked at you so intensely, the smile falling from her face as her vision flits down to your lips and back up again, just like they did the other day and the breath catches in your throat when you think you've taken it too far because she's reeling back from you and settling at the end of the sofa, feet kicking up on to your lap.
"Hmm…" She hums, studying you for a long moment and twisting the bottle in her hand, stroking the side of it with her pointer finger. You don't know why, but you feel like her doing that to your neck would make you implode. "Who's to say you won't come back for more?" Brittany counters and you're suddenly incredibly relieved you didn't take it too far, although she's flirting with you just as hard now and you're still trying to find reasons not to just say fuck it and make a rash decision that'd no doubt end in bliss.
However, it would have unknown repercussions and you're already going to be doing that by filming your scene together and so you can't just pretend this is a rehearsal.
Or can you?
"You're not the only one who's confident in bed," she quirks, and you run your tongue over your lips before sucking them into your mouth.
The things you want to do to her right now are endless, and you have to squeeze the bottle of water in your hand, as if you're squeezing something else to prolong your stamina. The only thing you're prolonging is the inevitable, but this isn't the right place or time you agreed to sleeping with Brittany. You really can't make a move and the best thing to do is to get up and just walk away from this and lock yourself in your bedroom.
But you've never been good at controlling yourself, and Brittany's like your kryptonite.
So, it shouldn't come as a surprise when you decide to tempt the devil and press further, your hand sliding against the back of the couch after you drop the bottle of water to the floor and you lift yourself up on to your knees and Brittany shifts automatically, her legs parting as if she wants you to fit between them. Her eyes stay trained on yours though, and the blanket slides off the side of the furniture, pooling in a heap on the ground but it's long forgotten because there's something else keeping you warm now. Something that's, if anything, making you too hot.
And it's staring up at you.
"Well, you know, Britt Britt," you mutter, and the use of her nickname makes her shake as you lower yourself down, careful not to touch her as you brace your palms out on either side of the armrest she's leaning on, bringing your faces closer together. "We could always rehearse a little... Get some practise in."
The meaning doesn't go amiss, and the dark eyes that were there before, return but even darker now and you feel Brittany's hands slide up from her side, grasping on to the shirt hanging from your body and she bumps your abs through it with the back of her knuckles as she fists the fabric. She's playing you at your own game, and you know you haven't gone too far that you can't just back out of it and pretend it was a prank – you've done this before – but you still feel like you could rip her clothes off if you were just to give in to your desires.
You're only human after all, and she's freaking Brittany Pierce.
"Santana," she softly calls your name, and you clench your jaw as she lifts, coming closer to your face and it's no longer amusing because she's too close to you. Her face is only getting closer, as well, and the playfulness that you felt in the room a minute ago is long gone as blue eyes bore into yours, like she's looking past them and into your soul. You can feel her warm breath panting against the bottom of your chin and you swallow thickly, desperately needing that bottle of water that's on the floor somewhere.
She pauses, hovering in front of your face and electricity is surging around you, and you can only imagine what sparks would show if you were to actually kiss her. The only thing between you is a very minimal space, and you can feel the air moisten when she runs her tongue along her lips, gulping audibly but holding your vision strong.
"Thought we couldn't reveal the goods before the scene," she whispers, repeating the words that you said to her earlier when she was in that candy striper outfit, and follows it with a giggle loud enough that you reel backwards, instantly bursting out into laughter because she's such an asshole. She almost had you there, and you're pushing back the cold that's threatening to chill your core because that was a fucking weird moment you just had, but she's now shaking her head and lightening the atmosphere, which you're clawing at to match.
(It's hard though, because you've never wanted to kiss someone more than you just wanted to kiss Brittany.)
(But she was obviously teasing you. Or she wouldn't have made a joke of it.)
(You're not sure if you're disappointed or not.)
"But," she continues and gets up, still holding the bottle of water and stretching her arms above her head, purposefully revealing a slither of skin between her shirt and pants and you put your all into not staring at it, but you fail. You were so close then. "I might change my mind," she states and shoots you a wink that makes your stomach drop into your ass, excitement shoot done your spin and sparking your nerves. "Night, San."
"Night, Britt," you manage to get out as she retreats down the hallway, throwing one final look down the hall with a grin that you can see, even in the darkness.
You hear the door close and fall on to the couch face first.
What the fuck was that?
/
The next morning, you're in high spirits.
As per usual, you push down the curdling feeling in your stomach when Brittany's eating a slice of toast on the sofa you shared a moment on and get ready, stealing her breakfast as you hurry her out the door.
Today is the day you start filming, and last night Artie emailed over the schedule, finding that you'll be recording on three separate days, and today is the B rolls where you can fuck around (literally) and mess up shots and see what works and what doesn't. You're not getting involved today, taking up the director position and you're using the others – bar Brittany – as puppets to practise on.
If they weren't fucking each other, they'd probably be bothered by your guinea pig technique, but they're literally getting paid to pleasure themselves and others and everyone's agreed to this.
You head over to the garage, Brittany in tow and find Artie there already, with Kurt and the others stood behind them. They're all bundled up, waiting on the street away from the lock up and you should've put forethought into getting here fifteen minutes earlier, just to switch on the space heaters but you woke up late, so whatever. Everyone will have to find other ways to warm up for a bit until the room temperature is good.
"Hey," you greet, scanning across at everyone and receiving a wink from Dani. You manage to pass it though, forcing yourself not to check if Brittany noticed but Sugar bounces up to her and for that you're glad. You don't think she saw.
Artie rolls over to you and stops. "Morning, Santana," he says and readies his hands on his wheels. "Ready to start filming?"
You bob your head excitedly, clapping your gloved hands together and you all begin walking down the alley, past the construction site, but when you find a large orange sign at the end of the alley, blocking your way, all of you stop in your tracks, sharing confused stares. You were here less than eight hours ago, and you're sure you haven't all gone the wrong way because you've all been here before, literally yesterday and you whip your head from left to right, seeing the few fenced off areas extending further than you remember them.
What the hell is going on?
"I swear it was down here," Artie says, still looking around.
You push your tongue to your teeth, glancing to the right and you'd put your last dollar on the fact that the garage was right there. No more than fifty meters away from you in a row of four, and even the area seems considerably less shifty. It's far more industrial, with cranes everywhere and large bulldozers and it only takes a few more seconds for your mind to put two and two together.
"There's fucking bulldozers," you say out loud, and Brittany comes up to you from the side, reaching out for you but you just shake your head, and she drops it. You didn't mean no to her touching you, but the disappointment is feeling heavy in your stomach. You're such a fucking idiot. Obviously Azimio was a shady looking bastard because he is a shady looking bastard, and you've paid forward rent on a place that was going to be demolished the very next day.
Without further thought, you speed over to the leering construction workers and clear your throat, pasting the most vicious expression you can on your face because you don't have time to tell them you're out of their reach, and even if you didn't have a dick, you still wouldn't be interested.
"Yo, flabby," you call out towards the large guy in a neon vest. "What's the deal around here?"
Said man walks over, bumbling in his steps and you resist the urge to retch as his belly hangs over his dusty jeans. You're so glad you're gay. "Demolition time, honey," he grunts, taking a large bite of his sandwich, unclean hands clutching the snack. "We're wiping the whole area and they're gonna build a strip mall on it."
"No," you retort back, a little sharper. It's not this guys fault but he's got to be full of shit or you're royally screwed. "No, we paid a months rent for a garage that used to be right there," you point at the spot you think it was. "And we were here last night with all our set and shit inside," you continue, getting angrier by the minute. "You can't be fucking seriously telling me it's just…" You wave your hands about in front of you, and blood is rushing to your cheeks until you feel like you could burst. There's no way this is happening. "That it's just gone!?"
He looks a little startled. He's stopped chewing the bite of his sandwich and is staring at you with wide eyes, lowering it as he replies with a weak shrug, "I don't know what to tell you, lady."
Scoffing in response, you wrinkle your face up in disgust and dismiss him with a flick of your hand. You're not usually so rude to strangers, but you're pissed and you stomp back over to the group of people who are still wide eyed and confused. More so because you've just gone and yelled at a complete random construction worker and got answers you now have to share with them but didn't want.
"What's happened?" Kurt stands forward, arms folded over his chest and he's wearing a ridiculous furry fez hat that you'd ridicule if you weren't currently distracted.
"They're tearing down the whole block," you explain and everyone gasps dramatically. Brittany drops her head in disappointment, and you want to comfort her but you're sad and disappointed, too. You didn't want this and now you're back to step one, seeing as apparently when they wipe garages, they don't get to even see if they've got shit in it. Or they already did a sweep prior to yesterday, and you then went ahead, paid some lying scumbag fake rent just for him to run away and you to be left in the dust.
You're not sure if you're more mad at him, or more mad at yourself for not trusting your gut instinct.
Which brings you to your next target. Kurt. He's the one that found the ad.
"You, Baby Drag," you spit and Kurt's eyes flash to you, but you see Brittany snap her head up, realising you're about to go all Snixx on his ass. You walk up to him and poke him in the chest, anger sizzling in your veins and red before your eyes. "Where's your guy, huh?" You poke him in the chest again and he rubs the spot, face twisting with hurt. "Call your fucking guy, Kurt."
He stutters out a breath but frantically searches for his phone, digging into the several ridiculously placed pockets including on his ribcage and one down by his thigh – his coat is really long – and until he finds it, sliding across the screen and shakily bringing the cell to his ear. You watch his face, clenching your jaw and resisting the urge to scream into the sky because if this guy has gone, and so has your rent money, alongside all the other craps like set décor and costumes you had inside the garage, you are thoroughly fucked.
There's no way in hell you can make the movie now. You were out of funds after purchasing all that stupid fucking stuff.
FUCK.
Kurt pulls his phone away from his ear, his face paling and you know there was no answer, but he still explains it. "The number has been disconnected," he weakly says, voice wavering and you close your eyes, trying to centre yourself because kicking his ass wouldn't help. Giving him a black eye might, but you know you'd only hear about it for days and days on end and it's not worth the earache. It's not really his fault as he didn't know but you aren't thinking about that right now.
The anger gets too much though, and before you lash out at him, you pace rapidly towards to the large orange sign saying CONSTRUCTION ZONE, kicking it as hard as you can until it falls backwards and your toes throb and you storm off to be by yourself.
Back to the fucking drawing board.
/
Like lost little children, you all wander aimlessly until you end up at the breakfast diner.
It's after rush hour, so there isn't many people around and you take up the large corner booth, sliding in silently and all looking downtrodden at the table. The mood is incredibly low. Your whole plan has just gone to shit and there's not a single thing you can do about it. That Azimio douchebag was obviously dodgy, and you don't know why you trusted him, and the worst part is, you've been heading up this whole thing so you should be the one with the heroic idea but it's coming up blank.
You don't have anything to save the day, and that fucking sucks. Without a location, without the sets and without the outfits, you can't make a porno. At least Artie had the right mind to keep all the recording equipment at his house – which was the most expensive thing to buy – but everything else has just gone and you don't have the funds to buy it all again. Hell, you don't even have the funds to pay back Artie's massive credit card bill that is yet to come, which you were going to do with the money you made off the film you now can't make.
You just want to go home and bury yourself underneath the covers in your bed. Maybe drink a bottle of Jack and sob away your tears and forget this whole damn thing. It was going far too well not to fuck up somewhere along the line.
Brittany interrupts your thoughts by leaning her head against your shoulder, and it's comforting in a way you didn't know, so you lean your head down on top of hers, allowing her to trace invisible lines around your palm when she flips it over beneath the table. It makes your muscles relax, and you sag further back into the booth as you release all the tension you didn't know you were holding, but as nice at it is, it's not going to build a set or get your money back.
But it still feels really good, so you just let her do it.
"Whoa," comes a voice and you snap your head up to find Holly stood over your table, hands cocked on her hips as she takes in the sight before her with concern. "Is it me or it depressing over here?"
You would laugh if you hadn't just had your dreams crushed, but you did and so you can only shrug . "Movie's not happening," you answer, the words coming out through a hoarse throat. Probably because none of you have spoken in well over ten minutes; just letting the disappointment sink in around you.
"What? Why?"
Everyone looks at you again to answer Holly's question, and it's one of the only times where you're hating being the leader of all of this. You really don't want to admit out loud that you fell at the very first hurdle. A hurdle you should've thoroughly inspected, but you were excited and you'd (wrongly) assumed that Kurt had done all the checks. Not that it's entirely his fault, but it's easier to be angrier at him than it is yourself.
"Some jackass took the rent we paid for the garage and scammed us," you explain, eyes meeting Holly's quickly before dropping back down to the table. "Demolition crew came by and just knocked the damn garage down with our shit inside, so we're officially fucked."
"Damn," Holly replies, realising why everyone looks so damn upset and even she begins twisting her face like she's sad for you. "That's messed up."
"You got that right," Kurt cuts in, resting his chin and cheek against his hand on the table. "I should've asked more questions."
Brittany lifts her head at his words, stopping the movement on your hand and reaches over, setting her hand over Kurt's. You try not to smile, but she's always the light in a dark room and she's just such a good person. She's like, the opposite of you, always knowing when to be comforting when you just get angry for the lack of fact checking on Kurt's behalf, but you know it's not his fault really. He just did what he was asked.
"Well, it may not be much consolation, kiddos," Holly continues and you glance at her, waiting to hear what she has to say, but she spies the folder in front of you – the one you had with the scripts and scenes and everything that was to be filmed – and stops, ushering you to scoot over with a wave of her hand before she slides in the booth beside you. "Wait, what did you end up calling it?"
Your eyes snap to the folder, and it was a little dorky but you let Artie choose the name of the film. He's been a massive help, and he's a little pervert, so you knew he'd come up with something witty or a play on words and you weren't entirely disappointed with his suggestion, even if you didn't really get the relevance of it. Still, now you're looking at it, and now you know the movie isn't happening, you can kind of see that the name wouldn't really have been suitable, mostly because of the connotations that came with it.
"Nude Encounters of A Third Kind?" Holly reads out, picking up the folder and widening her eyes. "Jesus," she comments and you can see she isn't impressed by the way her lips are twisting downwards, in half-disgust, half-shock. "That demolition crew kind of did you a favour with a name like that."
If she wasn't so cool, and if you hadn't just experienced your dreams being crushed and are traumatised with shock currently, you'd probably snap at her, but well, she's got a point. That is a totally lame title for a porno, and it gives extra-terrestrial vibes which is totally not your style, but it wasn't like you had any other suggestions. Still, you go defend Artie – he is the one that came up with it – but he's already right there, jumping in and defending himself.
"It wasn't lame," he says and glances around the table, seeing all eyes drop to the table to avoid him. Apparently you weren't the only one who thought it was kind of a lame name, but it wasn't like you had any better suggestions. The scenes were hard enough to conjure up as they were all connected, but not really, let alone a name that would tie them all in together so you let Artie do his thing and no-one argued when he suggested it anyway.
"It was kind of was," Sugar interrupts, and Artie snaps his head around, looking entirely offended and hurt, but you're still focused on how Holly's flicking through the pages now, scanning over the script and detail of the movie. The more she does it, the more you see her face twisting from disgust to approval, and maybe even pride as she begins bobbing her head as she flicks through the last few pages.
It should be weird letting your boss read that, but she's chill – in a hippie kind of way – and she's always helped you when you needed it and been a kick ass boss. That's one of the main reasons you stay in this breakfast diner because it may be terrible pay, but you like that you have a cool manager and you get to work with your best friends. Even if the shitty tips and awful customers led you to come up with this whole idea.
The folder drops to the counter, earning your attention again and Holly drums her fingertips against the table top for a moment, eying each of you individually – even the people she doesn't know – and you look to Brittany when Holly doesn't say anything else. She just started a sentence, then got distracted but the blonde is looking at you with a pouted out bottom lip you just want to poke back in, but you don't want to reveal how cutesy and playful you are around her; you do have some sort of fierce reputation.
But you don't have to think about not doing it, because Holly sits forward, clasping her hands together and her expression is serious, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together and you're entirely distracted by it. Why is she looking at everyone like that?
"I have a proposition," she starts and you match her position, sitting forward which everyone else does in turn, lending an ear.
After the day you've had, you're willing to listen to just about any type of suggestion because you've got nothing. "Okay…"
Holly shifts, sucking her lips into her mouth and inhales deeply. "I'm going to offer you guys full use of the diner to do your movie," she says and not expecting that, you jerk your head back, but she presses on. She remembers it's a porno, right? "You can have it after hours, throughout the night or whatever," she waves her hand around and your mouth pops open. "But when you guys succeed, I'll need full compensation and every morning you guys will need to do a deep clean," she looks to you, Kurt and Brittany. "We don't need any special sauce on our eggs," she jokes, and everyone sniggers in unison.
But you don't.
You're the only one with a stunned expression, and you're not sure whether you want to throw yourself on the floor and kiss her feet or just leap across the table and pull her into a hug. She's literally your knight in shining armour, sweeping in at the last second to save the day and you want to say no. This is too much, and it's where you work, but it's your last resort. The dining area is really big, you could change the title of the name to something less lame and co-ordinate it to its location and if worst came to worst, you could even dress up in the few uniforms Holly stores in the back room.
It's actually a perfect idea.
"Really?" You ask, not sure whether she's just going to take it back, play it out as a joke but she's not like that. "I mean like, are you serious?"
She's not mean, she's the opposite in fact – always willing to help. Always going out of her way to make sure all her employee's lives are easier with various shift patterns and bending to other people's requirements, like the chef who has a kid and the server who can only work early shifts. Sure, she doesn't pay you a great deal, but it's probably because this is her only business and she hires homeless people every now and then just to help them out for a day, so wages aren't easy to manage.
Which makes you feel a little bad, because she's clearly supportive of your new adventure, but it comes at the cost of losing you if you're successful. There's no way she hasn't taken that into consideration, so you know for her to offer this isn't easy as you're one of her most loyal workers. One of the hardest, too, and this is only going to speed up the process of you potentially leaving.
But it's an offer you can't refuse, and you not only know that because Brittany's jittering in her seat beside you, but because it just feels right. Like someone's opened the door to a dark room, showing you the exit and the feeling of excitement begins bubbling again in your chest. You just really hope it won't go like last time.
"Definitely hot stuff," Holly confirms, winking but then puts a finger up. "Oh," she says, smiling as she glances around the group. "One last condition... You've gotta change the name of this film, guys," she presses her hands into the folder on top of the table. "The name is freaking terrible, Artie," she laughs as she looks to said guy, who just rolls his eyes but chuckles and Sugar reaches over, squeezing his hand which makes his entire body shudder. He's got such a crush on her it's embarrassing.
"I'm thinking… I Know Who You Did Last Summer," Holly suggests, and you grin widely, looking back to her and realising that's the perfect title. Brittany looks to you and grabs your hand again, this time on top of the table and you rub your thumb over the back of her knuckles, a silent way of telling her you're totally going to do this. She just beams a smile in response. "And I'm taking a cut when you guys make it big time."
Everyone cheers in response when you bob your head, clearly showing that this is offer is undeniable and you find Dani's eyes on you when you search the group for the happiness and excitement you're feeling, stopping in your tracks when she winks at you.
You just look away though, feeling a little hot under the collar and Brittany wraps her free arm around your waist, hugging you tightly. You don't know if she saw, but you're too focused on the way everyone's talking animatedly beneath their breaths to each other, whispering about potential scenes and whatnot and this is one of the main reasons why you wanted to do this whole thing. Everyone's just so damn happy, and now with Holly's offer – which shit, you need to respond to – you're hopefully going to make a large amount of cash and be able to share it amongst you all.
"If you don't think it'll be too much trouble, then yes fucking please," you finally say, turning back to look at your boss who nods proudly, the emotion showing on her face and you grin widely. Your face is starting to hurt. You've gone from down in the dumps to being on cloud nine in a matter of minutes. How are you this lucky? "You'd really be saving our asses."
Holly gets up, rapping her knuckles against the table top and shoots you a wink. "It's my pleasure, amigos," she quips and spins away.
Sam just leans forward across the table, his eyes trained on her ass as he calls to you. "Hey, Santana?" You whip your head around, cocking a brow as he lowers his tone, but all eyes are on him and ears, too. "You think we could get Holly to do a scene with me?"
You're not the only one to hit him in the arm in response.
/
Where does everyone think it's going?