Title: After All This Time
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 8.5k
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: So happy you're all enjoying this! I've almost finished it, that's why you're getting regular updates!
/
Last night, you stayed at Artie's and were up half the night, trying to make the scenes flow on paper (you were good not seeing it on repeat) without the final additional one – which was supposed to tie it up, apparently – and now you're fucking tired.
(Well, half the night was spent going over the movie, the other half focusing on not having a panic attack at the impending plans.)
(You have no idea why you agreed to go out for drinks with all the people you ditched three months ago.)
(It just seemed like a good idea at the time.)
Anyway, you're all dressed up, in jeans, shirt and heeled boots, looking casual but smart (and hot) and you do a once over in the mirror of Artie's basement – your makeshift bedroom for the few nights you're here – inhaling deeply, trying to calm yourself and remove the thoughts of who you're going to be seeing tonight, but you can't get it out your head. You're trying not to prepare for it, because if you accept that it's happening, you might just chicken out and take full advantage of the flexible return ticket and go straight to the airport without helping finish off the movie, like you promised.
And you think you've done your fair share of breaking promises.
So, you stare at your reflection for a long while, repeating that you can totally do this. That it's not that big of a deal and it was going to happen eventually. You were never going to be able to stay away from Lima, or you old home-town friends, or her, forever, and so you've just got to bite the bullet and do it.
Except it gets considerably more unnerving when you're in the car with Artie's mom, as she's driving you to the diner, and she asks you if you're excited to see everyone again.
You shift in your seat, in the back of her car and steel yourself as your eyes slide to Kurt beside you, like he's going to answer it, but he just shrugs. "Yeah, I am," you reply and it's not a lie. It took Artie and Puck showing up to make you realise how big the hole in your heart was. The hole formed when you left this place, but you're fucking nervous still and you're slightly buzzed to see the other friends you left behind, too. "Not sure they're going to feel the same, though."
Nancy's eyes flicker to the centre mirror, spying you through it. "Why's that sweetie?"
You don't know how much she knows, and judging by the question, you're going to assume Artie made up a reason why you left, and it wasn't the truth. For that, you're glad because you find it hard to be okay when other people know you're not, and if you can just conceal your feelings, you can deal with it in whichever way you see fit. Ignorance really is bliss – or sort of has been for three months – and you shake your head quickly, dropping her gaze to look out the window as you reply with the God's honest truth.
Bar the obvious, it's one of the reasons you're so damn nervous. You didn't say goodbye to anyone else and okay, Kurt, Artie and Puck have been pretty welcoming, but you don't know if you can say the same for the others.
"Just didn't leave in the best way," you sigh, and she bobs her head, doing that accepting mom thing that all mom's do and soon enough, you're pulling into the parking lot.
The nerves inside your body are now sparking electricity, like they're about to explode and you tap your foot against the floor, leg jiggling about nervously as you think back to all the times you've come here. You remember the first day you started, the first day you dropped a plate and the first time you shared a joint with Holly in the back alley. You think about the hours you put in after it had closed, trying to make your dream come true and it looks exactly the same as the day you left. The neon sign is still half-illuminated, the paint cracking on the outside and the dark red booths still used as seating inside, as you can see through the window panels, and it makes your chest swell.
God, you've missed this fucking place. You even miss spending hours and hours, bitching and complaining about the douchebag customers you used to serve breakfast to in there.
But nothing is the same.
You don't get to focus on taking it all in again until Kurt's climbing out the side and you're sliding along the seat to leave through the same door, helping Artie into his chair as Nancy waves to you all and heads off in her car once again. You take his handles, deciding it's the only way your hands are going to stop shaking and steer him inside, pausing at the doors and taking a moment to breathe, which Kurt allows by hovering with his hand on the door, ready to push it open and after a long couple of seconds, you nod your head and you all head inside.
/
You three are the last to get there.
Or so you think.
You're so focused on taking in the little changes in the diner, like the menu layout behind the cash register and the greeting desk that's moved to the other side of the doors, that you don't register who's there until your name is being called by several different voices and you snap your head up to find the group of people, mouths open and eyes wide as they take you in. You stop, Artie stilling too as you stop pushing him, and Kurt sways in front of you, probably pulling a face at them, but you it doesn't pass your notice that no-one is looking like they were expecting you to be here.
Which makes you even more nervous.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Kurt claps his hands together and spins around, clasping them in front of him as he eyes you with a sheepish smile when you narrow your eyes. Did they not know you were coming? "We have a special guest."
You swallow thickly as your eyes drift towards the group, spying Spencer, Sam, Puck, Dani and even Holly, who pokes her head out from behind the counter, and they're still fucking staring at you like you're a ghost and usually, multiple sets of eyes on you doesn't bother you – you dance and sing on a freaking bar for a job – but this is an entirely different ball game. You can't read their expressions, probably because you don't know half of them that well, but a flood of relief flows through your body when no-one lurches across the space between you or yells.
You were kind of expecting that.
And it's long moment before anyone actually reacts, but the first one – surprisingly – is Sam, who pushes in front of Spencer and comes over to you, stopping to your side of Artie's wheelchair and staring down. Only a few seconds later, a smile is breaking across his face and he opens his arms, wrapping them around you and you want to shove at his shoulders – you're yet to figure out if he's dating someone – but you don't manage to find the anger. There was no scene with her and the frustration towards him (that was built over a course of a few months) just seeps away as you return the embrace, glad that he isn't instantly mad.
"Missed you, Santana," he whispers in your ear, and pulls out the hug but keeps an arm around your shoulder as he walks you towards the others.
Your palms are sweating still though, and you're practically buzzing in your spot, and you want to be nervous that you've got the rest of the people to talk to, but you can't help but notice there's two people missing and it's making you considerably more nervous. Where is she?
"Let's give Miss Lopez a warm welcome, huh guys?" Sam says loudly, startling you from your thoughts and partial search for another blonde, and you bare your teeth in an awkward smile for a long couple of seconds before everyone's grinning and coming over to you, cheering as you're bundled up into a tight hug.
And well, she may not be here yet, but you're starting to feel more at home.
So you'll take it.
/
Turns out, that Sugar's dad is like, a multi-millionaire.
You're not sure how you didn't know that before, but you're sat around a booth with everyone, catching up on the shit that you can't admit you know about – social media stalker, and all – when Artie tells everyone and you're the only one to gasp in shock. All sets of eyes flash to you, but you just laugh it off and luckily Kurt nudges you and makes a comment about your phone and how you would've known if you hadn't thrown it down the damn drain the night you left, but it's meant in jest, and you feel lighter about it.
It's not what you were expecting, but no-one's given you shit for leaving the way you did, and it's been entirely relieving. You were so fucking nervous about coming here and seeing everyone again, thinking they'd be super fucking angry that you ditched them right at the finish line, but they haven't been, just asked about your new job and life in the city, and that led to updates about everyone else.
But anyway, after Kurt's snide jovial remark, you hear that Sugar's opened up a bar across town, which sounds eerily similar to your place of work back in New York as the girls dance and sing on the bar, and that's when you hear about her.
"Sugar's going to meet us at the bar," Puck says, and you've been quiet because when you left, she was super close to you know who, and it's not shocking to hear that Puck's knows of her whereabouts after finding out he's been 'banging her on the regs' which to him, must mean a relationship, but you know that a certain someone is going to be mentioned shortly after.
Which happens, right on time.
"Britt's with her. They're running through some choreo with the dancers," he waves his hand and drops it back to the table, his other arm stretched across the back of the booth, behind Holly.
And you freeze.
It's been three long months since someone's mentioned her name so casually, and it feels like it did the day you left, like it hurts. It feels like someone just unloaded a gun into your stomach, and your drop your chin to your chest, swallowing repeatedly against your thickening throat. If you're going to see said person in a matter of hours, you need to not react like this. You need to be more casual, and not as fearful because these guys didn't react badly to your arrival – even if they didn't know about it, which you're still needing to ask Kurt and Artie about as that would've been a useful bit of information to have before turning up unexpectedly – but you can't predict how she or Sugar will react and thinking about it will only wind you up more.
They're the last people to know you're back in town, and you really wish that wasn't the case because keeping the chill you're telling yourself to? Not that easy now.
"We better get heading off, or we'll be late," Dani says and smiles at you softly, and you manage one back at her. She helped you before you left, the night of the wrap party, and it was rude of you to leave her without at least a thank you. She was the only one who knew everything about you and the situation as it was back then.
Still, she doesn't seem mad and that's the type of reaction you can handle. You don't want to push it, fearing someone will snap and lash out at you, and so you get up with the rest of them, heading towards the doors, but Dani hangs back, and you know she wants to talk to you. You owe her it, so you linger around and it's only when you're outside, listening to Holly lock up behind you as you all wait in the parking lot, that she does as you expected, arms folded and air clouding as she breathes out.
"So," she starts, and you chew your bottom lip, looking up at her. "No-one was expecting you to be here."
Yeah, you kind of figured that out. "Kurt and Artie didn't tell you guys, I guess," you reply with a shrug and her eyes flit to Holly as she regroups with the others, and you head out into the night, down the street.
"Not exactly," she laughs out, but her jaw clenches. "We all knew they were up to something, but we just didn't know what."
"How did you know they were up to something?"
Dani laughs through her nose again, shooting you an incredulous look. "They're about as subtle as Kurt's outfits," she jokes, and you decide to join in, too, needing the friendship support from her. If you're going to get through this night, you're going to need as much as anyone will give you. You're bricking it over knowing how close you are to seeing her after all this time, and you could do with the distraction. "Artie's not very good at lying and after three months of nothing, he started going on about the porno again."
You don't know what that means exactly, but you don't want to push. They came to get you, and you're here, so it doesn't matter what spurred them to reach that objective. "To be honest, I didn't know if I would come," you admit, thinking that might be a reason why they didn't tell anyone about your arrival.
"Yeah, I'm thinking that's probably why he didn't say anything," Dani agrees with a short bob of her head, but you feel a shift in the air as her eyes slide to you briefly, like she's not sure whether she wants to say what's on her mind. "Which brings me to my next question…" She trails off and there's a dramatic pause, one that feels like forever because you know what's coming. "Why did you come?"
You take a second to think of the correct response but struggle to find one. You want to say that you came back to give your touch to the film and finish it up as it's the least that you owe any of them, which yeah, was the original reason but that's not the reason you stayed. But you guess she asked you why you came, not whilst you're still here and so you're going to focus on that specifically. Anything else will most likely lead to another conversation like you had in your bedroom all those months ago, and you're nowhere near prepared for that.
You don't really have anything else to add, bar that you cried yourself to sleep for the following week and had to run away to heal.
"Kind of owe it to you all," you weakly reply and Dani squints at you, making you feel like she's calling your bluff, but you're answering her question. "Was a dick move to just up and leave without another word," you add, and her face softens. "I'm sorry for that… By the way."
She bumps into your shoulder, rolling her eyes playfully. "No biggie, I got over it pretty quick," she says as the group approaches the bar, but something flashes across her eyes when she realises where you are, and you don't like it. Her entire body tenses as you slow to a stop, staring up at the sign hanging over the entrance and everyone else wanders in, but she hangs back, making you do the same. "Not sure everyone else did, though," she continues through a lower tone and hooks her thumbs into the back of her jean pockets, tilting her head to look at you. "And because I weirdly respect you for rejecting me," she says through a laugh, and you feel a smile tug at the corners of your lips. "I feel like you should know that if we didn't know you were here then... She probably doesn't know either."
You kind of expected that, after everyone else's reaction, but you'd been desperately trying not to find out the answer to that. You didn't want to know that, and now your entire body is flaring with nerves again, like they did when sitting in Nancy's car. You feel it all over again, but like ten times worse, and you have to fold your arms across your chest to comfort yourself. Your breaths are already getting shallower, and you run your tongue along your teeth, sucking your lips into your mouth as you process your emotions.
She doesn't know you're here, which gives you the opportunity to run away without her knowing–
No.
No. You can't do that again. You won't. You came back here and not just to run away again. You came back to prove that you're a better person and you weren't running forever, just for enough time to recollect yourself and maybe you have created this life out in New York, but Lima will always be your home.
And if you can focus on that, you can get through these drinks, finish everything off with Artie and then get back on that plane.
Fake it till you make it, and all.
"I thought as much," you shrug and inhale a deep, shaky breath. "But it's fine, it's cool," you get out and even you're not convinced by your words or tone. "I'm not here for long, and I'm sure me and Br–" You choke on the name, unable to complete it and heat prickles at your eyelids. Might need to avoid saying her name. "If me and her can be civil at least, it'll be fine."
Dani studies you for a long minute, and you really don't want her to push you because you've got nothing else to add. You don't know how to prepare for what's on the other side of the doors, and you don't know how you could ever prepare for a moment like that. Seeing her after a long three months. Seeing her after the longest time apart in the history of your friendship, after the last conversation you had and after the way you left. Seeing her and trying not to feel everything you did when you ran away.
"If you say so," Dani finally replies and spins to face the door, staring up at it before glancing at you. "Ready?"
No. But you don't think you could ever be.
/
You'd like to say when you step into the bar, the first thing you notice are the dusty ass pictures hanging on the walls; the same ones you used to look at when you snuck into this bar, underage, armed with a fake ID and hella confidence after your glow up at 18.
You'd like to say the second thing you notice is how much you enjoy the way most of your friends eyes snap to you and smiles follow, knowing they're happy that you're back in the town and out for drinks.
You'd like to say the third thing you notice is anything other than a certain blonde who's stood by the bar.
But you know you can't lie.
You feel the temperature change from outdoors to indoors, so you shrug out of your coat and hang it on a hook by the entrance pretending like you didn't see her the second you walked in, and the breath is ripped from your chest when you can't delay it any longer and see her, for the first time in three fucking months, stood by the bar, hugging everyone in greeting. She's with Sugar, who hasn't noticed your presence either as you're at the back of the group and you hover for a second, Dani doing the same and shifting closer to you, not touching but close enough that if you jelly leg to the floor, she can catch you.
She slides her vision to you, eying you for a long moment but you barely even notice. All you can see is Brittany.
Her hair's a little longer, her arms look a little stronger and her smile is just and soft and beautiful as you remember. She beams a perfect grin at Spencer who she hugs, then Kurt, then bends over at the waist to hug Artie, and you see the guy in the wheelchair hold on to her by her arms as she pulls back, keeping her close. He says something, and her face immediately furrows, but she's so fucking perfect you can't even focus on the confusion that passes over her face and instead try to put all your energy into seeming okay because you think you know what Artie's telling her.
But you're not okay.
You're pretty sure you haven't taken a breath since you stepped into the damn place and saw her, and everything's moving in slow motion, but you're in shock. You can only imagine this is what it's like because despite the rush of emotion earlier, you can't feel anything. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, your stomach turning over and over, but there's no heavy dread. No, instead, it's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, making you feel sick in a relieved kind of way and your shoulders relax as you exhale shakily, Dani's hand moving to press on the low of your back to urge you forward and you know it's time to go over there.
Brittany still hasn't look at you though, and you glance at the floor, trying to find some grounding because you don't really feel like you're here. Everything's moving too slowly, but too fast at the same time and you feel like your soul is hovering over your body, watching as it walks over and within a few seconds, blue eyes that you haven't looked into for so long drag towards you. Brittany returns to standing up straight, following Artie's line of sight slowly as he looks too and you swear, the entire world stops turning.
You can't even feel your body as you take the few final steps over, and everyone goes deadly silent as you join them, too close now that you can't just turn and run away, and Dani's hand presses harder into your back like she's expecting you to do so. If you weren't locked into a gaze with the pair of eyes you've dreamt of every single night, you probably would just bail and get the fuck out of here, but you are. You're stuck just fucking staring at her, willing yourself to say something, to say anything.
But again, you can't.
All coherency and sense has shot out the window, and you don't know whether you want to laugh or cry that she's this close to you after too fucking long, but you know she's feeling the same by the way her eyes flit all over your face, her brow furrowing deeper the longer she looks at you, like she doesn't know if you're real. If you're really here. You wish you didn't know her so well, as then you wouldn't be able to tell that she's two seconds away from crying, her trembling hands grabbing at each other in front of her lap to stop them from reaching out and seeing if you're actually real, and she gulps audibly, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, her chest rising and falling too fast now.
Yours is doing the same, and everything around you has just faded away; the people you're with and the people you aren't with. Heat begins crawling up the back of your eyelids, and you blink rapidly, flaring your nostrils and clenching your jaw like you're able to fight what you're feeling, or that you've remotely prepared for this moment and are managing to handle it.
Except you haven't.
You don't know how you could've possibly prepared for a moment like this.
In a split second, it's all come rushing back to you and your body goes from numb to sparking like a live wire, in a way that it hasn't done in three months. Just being this close to her has made your body do a 180, and you soak in everything about her, letting it sizzle beneath your skin. Like how she hasn't bleached her hair yet this year, like she usually does before Summer, and how her nails are longer now which means she's stopped biting them. It's all the little things you didn't think about in your time apart, and it's taken seeing them to realise that you haven't just missed her presence but missed everything about her, too.
She's the high you just can't give up. She's the rush of blood that made you flatline, and you hate the way you thought you could ever not feel like this around her. That you've spent ninety-one days apart from her – not that you're counting or anything – honestly believing that you just needed time away to change the way you feel, but you can't. You've never really been able to. Not when you tried to get over her the first time, when you were just a teenager and had to come to terms with the fact you were just friends, and certainly not now, after you've slept together twice and broke your own heart with your own expectations.
Brittany will never just be a friend to you. You'll always be that pathetic, acne ridden, four eyes who craved your popular, beautiful blonde best friend who was also cheer captain, and it's like you've been taken back in time, returning to that outsider that you left behind to become the person you are now.
But there's something you couldn't have ever changed, and it's the way you feel about her.
It might have been a while, but you still feel the same. There were so many nights where you stared at your phone, lying in bed alone, drowning your sorrows into a bottle in New York, forcing yourself not to text her or call her or even stalk her social media. You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't let yourself remember her number – even though it was burned into your brain – and type out a drawn-out apology, because every time you slipped and typed one out anyway, you had to throw your phone across the room, making it disappear, like you did the night you left, knowing it wasn't enough.
But with her in front of you, the silence dragging and everyone's looking between you two like you're on Jerry Springer and the drama is about to kick off, you wish you had text her.
Then maybe you'd have something to say. Maybe there would be some fucking words crawling up your throat, waiting to spill out, but there's nothing. You don't know what you're supposed to say and 'I'm so fucking sorry' or explain how the French say 'you have been missing from me' which is more appropriate for the way you're feeling, as it's better than 'I've missed you' which probably wouldn't be appropriate.
So silence it is.
That's something you can stick with.
"Santana," comes from one of the group and it breaks your gaze, your eyes flitting about as you try to process the shock, but then you're staring at who spoke and find Sugar stepping towards you.
Instantly, you're tense, your breath shallowing again, and you swallow thickly, sucking your lips into your mouth and retaining a blank expression. You don't know how Sugar's going to react and those fucking blue eyes are burning holes into your temple, but you can't meet them again. You've already stared into them for a few uncomfortable minutes – or rather comfortable, but it's easier to lie to yourself – and now you've got to face another person that's probably pissed that you up and left her best friend.
"It's been a hot minute," Sugar continues, clenching her jaw but her lips begin smiling and it releases your chest a little, making you exhale in a huff. She's not mad at you. That's something.
"Yeah," is the first thing you say, through a hoarse throat and you run your tongue along your lips, trying to wet them as your mouth is now super fucking dry from seeing Brittany after so long. "Been a while," you follow up, shifting uncomfortably in your spot. You're half expecting her to lash out at you verbally, and you're trying to hold the eye contact, but you can't. Your eyes keep dropping down to the floor, then back up, then down again.
No longer able to conceal a steely expression, Sugar rolls her eyes and laughs, throwing herself at you in a hug, and you wind your arms around her waist, holding her closely before she pulls back, eyes wide and hands moving to your shoulders to hold you in place.
"We've missed you," she says, and you feel your eyes glossing over with excess moisture, your cheeks heating up and you breathe out through a trembling chest, shuddering as you realise she's actually happy to fucking see you, like everyone else is. "Let's get some drinks in!" She exclaims, breaking you from your moment and then you're pulled away by Dani and thrown at the bar where the bartender slaps down a tray full of shots, everyone cheering your name around you.
Those eyes don't leave you for a good five minutes and you when you finally brave it and turn to find her, Brittany's nowhere to be seen.
/
Somehow, you manage to go an hour before you come face to face with Brittany.
It only took five minutes for her to come back after she disappeared, so she's been around you, and you felt relief at first, knowing she hadn't done a 'you' and bailed, but she still didn't come to talk to you which just instilled a deep fear. You technically haven't said anything to each other, just stared intently for a few minutes, and since then, everyone took their turn in buying you a drink – some of which you gave away because at one time, you had four in front of you – and you've just been busied with them, unable to hover over your fear.
But it doesn't last for long, because it's when Spencer is done checking in with you, that he shifts in his stool, his eyes sliding to the right and you follow it to see Brittany, across the bar, leaning against a table with Sugar, both of them staring in your direction. Nothing is said about them, but he tells you he's going to get another drink – despite you being at the freaking bar where he could flag down the bartender – and slides away, leaving you alone for the first time since you came in.
And that's when she comes over to you.
Her walk over is confident, which makes you entirely uncomfortable to the point where you almost fall off your stool as you're the opposite of confident right now, and you regain your steadiness, hand grasping on to the bar as her perfume invades your senses and your eyes flutter shut, your lungs inhaling and treasuring it. Then she's right next to you, lingering and you somehow find the strength to open your eyes again and look up at her, and fuck, you forgot how beautiful she was up close.
Far away was bad enough, but now the blonde is like, right fucking there, you can see all the little things on her face that made you fall for her. Like the freckles dusting her cheeks and how her eyes are bluer than the oceans in the Maldives, and for a second, you're locked again, just staring up at her, soaking every inch you can. It's been too long since she's been this close to you and your body is aching to touch her, but you can't, so you'll enjoy the way your body is humming with warmth instead of chilling with fear.
"Hi," is the first word shared, and it comes from Brittany, but her voice wavers as she says it and she turns her attention to the stool Spencer was just occupying, not holding your eye for too long. "Do you mind if I sit?"
You shake your head, unable to speak yourself. "Sure," you force out, fear striking through you as she hesitates on your answer, hearing the begging that you tried not to show, but she knows you better than you know yourself. No-one changes that much in three months.
Still, she takes the stool, sliding on to it and setting her drink down on the bar top with a shaking hand, and you look away, trying not to let her know you've noticed the quivering, and meet her eye again, sucking in your lips as you settle into being sat down so casually with her once more. It's ridiculous, considering you two used to touch more than couples do, but this isn't like any other time that's ever occurred in your history together, and you don't know how to act or what to ask her or even what to say.
But like she always has done, Brittany picks up on your inability to speak, and like she did by coming over, she leads the conversation with, "How have you been?"
Awful.
"I've been okay," you lie, clenching your jaw as your tongue rejects the words, wishing that you could just tell her the truth, but nothing is known yet and you don't know how to handle this. You've fucked up before by forcing up words – it contributed to the demise of your relationship – and you've learnt since then. You've matured, and grown to accept your cons, trying to better yourself in the time you've spent away from home. From her. "How about you?"
Brittany lifts the corner of her lip as you ask, fingering the rim of her glass with one hand as she rests her other elbow on the bar, but she's not smiling. You think she's disappointed with your response.
"I've been okay," she repeats your words, and your eyes narrow in response as hers flicker to you.
She's not dumb. She's a fucking genius and she said that for a reason, just like you did, but you don't say that, instead watching as her eyes roam around your face, like she's still taking in your presence.
"You look really good," she whispers, biting on her bottom lip and it's so not what you were expecting that you can't stop your head from jerking back.
You look really good? After three fucking months apart, ninety-one days of emotional torment, that's what she has to fucking say? That you look really good.
Well, now you're fucking pissed.
Still, you don't let the anger seep into your reply and cock your head to the side, inhaling deeply as you cross one leg over the other.
"You look really good, too," you decide on, knowing that if she repeated what you said for a reason and you noticed, that you doing the same will evoke the same notice from her.
Which, it does, and blue eyes narrow into squints as she picks up on your playing her game. She's not the only one with a deep-rooted familiarity. You were best friends for years.
"Heard you're choreographing for Sugar's dancers at her new bar," you continue, not wanting to linger over the elephant in the room, but she doesn't look like she's holding the emotion you feel – anger.
Instead, her vision drops, like you've disappointed her again but that only flares up your emotion because what are you supposed to say? She's not asked anything other than the standard boring conversation starters that people who don't know each other use when running into one another in the street, and you're trying to stick with the plan of coming here, finishing up the film, and going back to New York. This situation is already threatening that, because you can't ignore how alive your soul feels now you're within touching distance of her, like it's brought back a feeling of belonging, but that should be long gone.
That's not appropriate, and that's the only thing you can think of to power you through this. If that fails, you're done. If you let your emotions get the better of you, you're irrevocably finished, and you can't go through that again. You already managed to claw your way back into someone again, after running away to the Big Apple, but sitting here, in a bar you used to sneak into underage with the person sitting opposite you, you're feeling like your fingertips are holding on to the cracks in your foundations.
"Heard you know a little something about dancing on bars," she retorts with a knowing smile, but there's sadness behind her eyes and you resist the urge to wince.
You're still hoping she didn't know about your whereabouts and just refused to come get you, but you're yet to find that out from her, even if you heard from Artie that she didn't, but it'd be more believable from her. Artie would've said anything to get you back here. Although with the way this conversation is going, maybe you can pull it out of her without even doing anything.
So, you'll carry on with the topic. For now.
"Yeah," you bob your head, trying to seem casual and spin the glass in your hand as you pause briefly. "I get to sing, dance and drink at my bar in the city, and made a few friends with the girls there," you shrug, thinking about how Brittany and Mercedes would get along, but you don't think they'll ever meet. Two separate lives, two separate paths. "It's not too bad."
Brittany manages a small smile, like she's trying to be happy for you, but she's struggling. That's only going to piss you off though, as you only had to go to this new life because of her, so you need to steer away and start something else up. You just don't know what.
Except, as always, she has other plans and sucks her lips into her mouth, still studying you like she knows what you're going to say before you do, and you hate that three months didn't diminish that power of hers.
"That's good…" She pauses but doesn't seem nervous. "Are you dating anyone?"
Okay, maybe you weren't expecting her to say that, and it shows by the way you freeze. Your eyes flit to her, then away, and you know it's something she could ask you the other side of three months ago because you were best friends. In fact, you made best friends look like a step down because your souls were like, intertwined. You just knew each other, right off the bat and everything just flowed between you without effort.
Shit. You've always known her so well. Too well as you knew how to turn her on before you slept together, just from the stories of her hooking up with other people and not being able to find the spot on her neck that switches her on like a damn tap, and you used that to your advantage when it was needed. So for her to ask about your dating life, in a city like New York where being gay is trendy as hell, and there's literally hundreds of gay bars, isn't really that inconceivable, but the appropriateness is questionable.
Still, you know if you were the one to ask the question, and you hesitated this long without answering, you'd be not only bricking it, but figuring out a way you could just disappear with a click of your fingers and delete all recollection of this conversation and you don't want her to feel that. You also find it incredibly hard to lie to her, so knowing as much as you want to, you can't force bullshit out, you just stay silent but shake your head from left to right in the smallest of motions, but she sees it.
And you fucking hate the way her eyes go from empty to sparkling in a split second. That's so not what you need when trying to resist bringing up everything you left behind.
"I'm not either," she offers, and you narrow your eyes this time, sliding them back to her.
You didn't ask, even though you really fucking wanted to, and it's bugging you that she can just offer out that information like it's appropriate, like you didn't admit to having feelings for her and she's announcing she's single like it changes anything. She's usually single, rarely ever dating anyone properly and she still doesn't feel the way you do, so what's the point in sharing? You're here to do this movie thing with Artie, and even though it was inevitable you'd run into her and have an awkward conversation, you kind of hoped you could skip the elephant in the room and wouldn't have to linger over the obvious.
"I should let you get back to everyone," Brittany continues and your heart drops inside your chest, your head cocking to the side. Is she fucking serious? She's barely been here for two minutes and now she's freaking leaving.
Her face isn't showing she's reading your mind though, a small smile at her lips and she stands once more, grasping her glass off the side and holding it in front of her as she inhales through her nose, hovering but it just pisses you off.
"Was really good to see you again," she finishes off, reaching out to set a hand on top of yours and your body jolts at the touch for more than one reason.
It's like an open flame against your skin, but you're far too distracted with trying to figure out if this is some joke you're not getting to linger over her touching you for the first time in three months. She can't actually walk away after that barely there conversation. She can't actually just leave it there, and if she does, you don't know whether you're going to be explode with irritation, chase after her and demand a little fucking more, or just scream at the top of your lungs and none of those options will be deemed appropriate.
But she does leave. She fucking twirls around and heads off without another word, and a smile that doesn't reach her eyes and you stare blankly at her retreating form until she joins Sugar once more over the other side of the bar.
You're in shock.
You're in fucking shock, focusing now on the stool Brittany once occupied for a whole breath and you feel like such a fucking idiot that you tighten your grip so much on the glass you're holding you think it could actually fucking break. Is she fucking serious? She sat down to tell you she isn't dating anyone, found out you aren't either, told you it was good to see you like she's a freaking old college roommate, and not once the centre of your entire fucking world, and now she's just gone again? Just like that.
She's just left you, sat by the bar, by yourself, and yeah, okay, you haven't had time alone since you met up at the diner, so someone's bound to come up to you shortly, but you don't fucking want that. You thought you were actually going to talk to her, find some remnants of the friendship you once had and okay, you didn't want to speak about the elephant in the room, but you thought there'd be more than fucking that.
That was a bullshit conversation that people who barely know each other have, and the longer you think about it, the angrier you get.
How fucking dare she? How does she have the fucking audacity to stride over, talk to you for two freaking minutes, then up and leave without anything else, like her job is done and hands are clean now. That girl must fucking bleed audacity and you get so worked up, you're getting up from your stool and heading over to Artie, grabbing the back of his chair to spin him around as you glare down at him. Your chest is heaving rapidly, anger sizzling in your veins and you're still half in shock, so you don't realise how sharp your voice is until Artie winces and widens his eyes.
"I'm getting out of here."
Confused, his wide eyes shift from left to right and Sugar – who's right behind him – peers over his shoulder, eavesdropping in on the conversation and your tone. "Did I miss something?"
You hold back the urge to scoff, knowing you could just explain what just happened, but you're not sure if you're overreacting and shit, if you open that can of worms, the whole thing will go everywhere. The best thing for you to do is just leave. You shouldn't have come here in the first place as now you're more pissed at Brittany than ever before. Prior to today, you were heartbroken, and the anger had subsided after three months of thinking and crying about it, and now you're just reminded of why you fucking left in the first place and the sadness has turned to venom.
Now you're being pulled back in time to the emotional state you were in when you left and you didn't battle every single day, working your ass off, to get over her for no reason.
(Not that you think you're over her completely, but you were getting there.)
(Or are getting there.)
(Shut up.)
So, you choke out a, "No," and blink away the heat prickling at your eyes. "It's just been a lot to process," you decide to explain and it's the right thing to say because Sugar pinches her lips together, and so does Artie, their eyes flitting behind you. You don't need to look at who they're staring at to figure it out, but you're hoping they're going to assume you're referring to being around the old gang once again. That's been overwhelming too, but not half as freaking much as seeing her again, but obviously she doesn't feel the same. "Could you just tell your mom I'll be back soon?"
Artie studies you, one eyebrow furrowing like he doesn't want you to leave, or at least not until he can pull the truth out of you, but you don't have time for that. You just need to go. You're feeling something akin to humiliation and you don't do well when you feel like this, and you just want to get the fuck out of here. You were so wrong about a lot of things, and if Brittany had anything positive to contribute to your return, the opportune moment was then, but no. Instead, she chose to ask how you've been, tell you she's single and that it's been good to see you.
Good to see you.
Fuck. The more you repeat it in your head, the angrier it's getting you and you just have to go before you lash out at either Brittany, or someone that doesn't deserve it.
"Sure thing," Artie finally replies, but slowly and hesitantly, bobbing his head and Sugar smiles weakly at you as you take your leave, sliding your unfinished drink on to the bar top and making a beeline for the exit doors.
You don't look back.
/
Ohhhhh snap. What did you think?