Lyin' King (Jhené Aiko)

"San... it's me...don't throw anything." I snapped at her before opening the door fully. I expected a mess, but instead, she had her back to me, one hand gripping the back of my chair as she wept into her phone. She murmured something in Spanish before hanging up and then picked up the back of the chair and slammed it down.

"Fuck!" She yelled, her phone clutched in her hand as she screamed, her back still to me. "I didn't come here for this!"

"San?" I said, touching her shoulder. She flinched and turned around, her eyes red-rimmed and fake eyelashes askew, but otherwise, no scratch was on her.

"What?" She snapped, baring her teeth, and I paused.

"Your teeth."

She brought her hand to her mouth and ran her index finger across her front teeth, where three of the front ones were cracked.

"The fuck?" Her eyes were wild now. She looked towards the mirror on the closet door and looked at the damage Biff had done. There was murder in her eyes, and I knew there was no getting through to her. "Pendejo! Cabron! Maricon!" She uttered as she landed a swift kick at my desk and then grimaced in pain upon contact. "I'm going to kill him." She said, more tears coming to her eyes as she turned to look at me again.

"And Brittany is going to kill you."

Her eyes went wide as if she hadn't thought of Brittany during all this.

"Fuck."

She hastily packed her bag, mumbling about how much she wanted to kill Biff and wondering out loud how she would explain any of this to Britt.

"Tell her you fell or something. I'll vouch for you." I said, stepping closer, but she just shook her head.

"That's not going to work." She said, her head still down as she rearranged her bag.

"Why not?"

"She doesn't even know I'm here." She finally admitted, looking up at me with a shrug.

"You lied to me." I expected to feel pain or betrayal, but surprisingly, I was numb. This was the line. I needed to draw it. I didn't want to be the other woman.

"So." She said, shrugging as she zipped up her bag and threw it over her shoulder.

"So? Are you kidding?"

"Look, Q...I'd love to go back and forth with you, but I need to go and figure out a way to fix my mouth before it gets worse."

"Of course."

"I'm glad you get it."

"Why'd you have to fight him?"

"Of all the questions and all the moments, now? The last train leaves in like twenty minutes, and it's a ten-minute walk!" She whined, with her hand partially blocking her mouth.

"So," I began, my heart suddenly thudding in my chest. "Be quick then."

She sighed, dropping her hand from her mouth and looked at me with as much fierceness as I had ever seen from her.

"I can't control myself around you, Q. Ever since I saw you in the hospital all bloody and bruised, I've felt this need to protect you. So when that twat was headed your way, I shoved him back, and he called me a spic, and the next thing I knew, my fist was connecting with his face, and his fist hit my mouth a little too fucking hard in the process! But you know what? You would have done the same for me. Am I right?"

I couldn't argue that she was right.

"Yeah. I guess so."

"I would do it again, even if this was still the outcome." She gestured to her mouth and then ran a finger over her teeth again.

"You still lied to me."

"God! I'm sorry that I lied about coming up here. I just needed to make sure that you were okay. I needed to see you. I'm sorry that I thought lying was the way to do that. Are we good?" She asked, turning towards me, reaching to put her arms around me, and I let her.

I took that moment to absorb the love she was so willing to give me. I felt dark and empty as she kissed my forehead before pulling away and looking into my eyes with way too much love for a woman married to someone else.

"Tell me we're good, Q."

"You should get going." I murmured against her neck as the hug continued. I knew if I stepped back, reality would come back to me; with her skin smelling so good against my nose, I wanted to live in that moment.

"That's not an answer." She said, stepping back and looking me over. "Q, are we okay?"

"I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" She asked, tears pooling in her eyes.

"This back-and-forth flirting relationship. Any chance we had is gone, and that's on you. I need you to go home and leave me alone from here on out? Please?"

"Q?"

"Go."

"So you're going to ignore our feelings for each other? It can't be because of Puck. I know a beard when I see one. I thought you stopped being a quitter after you got out of that wheelchair?" She spat out, venom in her words and hurt on her face.

"No. You don't get to act heartbroken, Santana! Don't you dare!" I growled, and she had the NERVE to look surprised that I was upset.

"I get to do whatever the hell I want. I won't let you quit on us, Quinn. I am not a quitter!"

Her words stung on more than just an emotional level. The scotch had done nothing to quell the pain that I felt in my back.

I had hoped that we could just lay in bed and steal just one night, but she had lied to me, and because of that, I had convinced myself to stand by my morals.

I had to draw the line. I had to be firm on this.

I was getting Beth back, which was more important than anything else.

"You quit on us the day you proposed to HER. I'm doing nothing more than reminding you of that. I'm done with this. I'm done with you!."

"Not because of Puck or Brittany, right?" She was grasping for hope, which I would normally give her, but I was tired of this game. On top of that, I was in pain, and she was making it worse. I only knew for certain that Beth needed me way more than Santana ever could.

"No. I'm doing this for me. I'm doing this for my daughter and believe it or not. I'm doing it for you. I need you to leave. I love you, Santana. I love you so much that I'm only going to say this once, and after that, I'm going to put you on the same level as every other friend."

"Q...please?" She said, her hands gripping the strap of her bag like a lifeline. "Don't." She begged.

"If you love me and want to be a person of your word...you will honor the vows you made to Brittany. Turn this misdirected and misguided affection you have for me towards your wife. Please." I asked, my hand cupping her slightly swollen cheek as I searched her eyes. "Can you promise me that?"

She didn't look like she wanted to make that promise, but I knew she'd never turn me down.

Santana knew more than anyone how dark things got for me when I gave up Beth and how it drove me to be institutionalized for an entire summer.

Her eyes were so sad as she gave a curt nod. "Yeah, Q. Okay. I promise."

Even after the promise, her eyes watered, and she looked close to breaking.

It almost made me break my resolve, but then she wiped her face, and I saw her wedding band, which pissed me off again.

"Stop crying." I said in my most authoritative voice.

"I can't help it. This hurts."

"Now you know how I felt every time you went back to her instead of choosing me."

"I'm sorry. I was scared of being alone."

"I get that, but you still don't get to cry. Stop!" As she turned that sad puppy dog expression on me, I snapped at her.

"I'm sorry." She turned her face away, wiping the tears and then looked back at me and nodded. You're right. Just..." She stepped closer to me, and I stood there, paralyzed.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked as her thumbs came to rest just under my eyes, wiping away moisture that I didn't realize was there.

"One last kiss, and then I'll go. I'll be faithful. I'll honor the vows that I took."

"No." I said before sucking my lips into my mouth and shaking my head.

"Please?" She begged, and as we all know, my willpower has never been as strong as I'd like it to be. I released my lips from my mouth with a pop and puckered them.

Her lips on mine sent tingles throughout my body, and I gave into it. Our lips parted, and I could taste a mixture of alcohol and the metallic taste of blood. It was jarring and made me nauseous. I jerked back, and the hurt in her eyes was immediate.

"That's enough." I snapped, pulling away from the hands that still cupped my face. "You need to go."

She nodded and then glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand.

"The trains have stopped running...would it be okay if I stayed here just until they start running again? We could make this like before high school graduation. I can behave. I promise you."

"I need you to leave this house right now. I don't trust myself with you anymore. I want to respect what you have with Brittany, and you need to make it easier for me to do that."

She nodded, her old tough bitch face taking hold and threw her hands up in defeat.

"Say no more, Q. I'm out." It was meant to come out harsh, but she sounded as defeated as she looked. I tried not to care as I walked over and pulled the door open, not bothering to look up at her, knowing that if she asked to stay again, I would cave.

"I love you the most, Quinn." She said. I watched her feet walk towards the hall and bit hard on my lip. Her steps hesitated as she waited for my response, which was more automatic and wooded than it should have been.

"Prove it." I said before I could stop myself.

"Challenge accepted." She said sadly.

I eased the door shut and then pressed my ear against it, listening to the echo of her footsteps down the stairs. It hurt like hell, but I felt like I had just accomplished something major. It was beyond necessary and a loose end that I was glad to have tied.

With her gone, I could finally breathe again. I could finally wrap my head around what was important at the moment. Beth.

The adrenaline coursing through me, especially after Santana's lips touched mine one last time, began to leave me, and the remnants of the alcohol lingered, leaving my head feeling fuzzy and my tongue thick.

I felt like a fool as I stared at the door and waited for her to return. She had left earlier and ended up downstairs, never actually leaving, had she done that again?

I half hoped, half dreaded finding her still in the house, I was too thirsty to stay in my room and hypothesize.

So, in pursuit of ice water, I made my way to the stairs because there was no way I was drinking from the bathroom sink, even if each step was excruciating.

Exhausted after I reached the first step, I still pressed on. I had to...I was oh so thirsty.

My heart sped up when I saw the all-too-familiar lump on the couch. The cushion she rested on was wet with her tears. Her dark hair was thrown across her face as she let out light snores, but I knew it was her, and I knew she'd cried herself to sleep.

Looking at her made my heart ache, but I had to be strong and keep my resolve like iron.

After I told her I wanted her out of the house, I wanted to shake her awake and ask what she was doing still there, but I moved past her and into the kitchen. The thought of talking to her again tonight—or was it morning—made me feel even worse.

I grabbed a glass from the top shelf, extending myself way beyond what I should have. When I came down, I felt a twinge in my back that left me breathless.

"Shit." I groaned a little too loudly, feeling like I needed to stop being an idiot and go to bed already. I waited to hear her come into the kitchen, but a glass of water was down, and another poured, and there was still no sign of her. Maybe that was for the best.

I took measured steps as I walked towards the stairs without a glance back at her.

"Wake up..." I wanted to whisper, but I risked my sanity climbing the steps one last time today.

After taking a moment to stare at her perfect face, I forced myself to turn away. She was my past, and I had bigger things to worry about.

An eternity later, I stood precariously at the top of the carpeted stairs and leaned on the wall, trying to catch my breath. The glass in my hand was slippery, and the condensation soaked my palm.

I had made it.

"Quinn?" I heard my name from across the hall and tried to straighten up. I had spent three years at this school, and barely anyone knew about the accident that had me nearly paralyzed. I had come so close to keeping that quiet save for a few sisters, but now, as I turned towards the sound of my name, three sets of eyes stared at me.

"Yeah?" I snapped, or at least I tried to.

"Do you need anything? You look like you are in pain."

"Pain...she looks like she's stuck."

"Paralyzed is more like it."

I watched the three of them going back and forth and tried my best to hold in a scream.

"Enough, either help me or shut the fuck up!" I snapped, the growl returning to my voice. My lips tipped into a smile shit. I was proud that I was able to compose myself. "Can you just help me to my room?"

They practically fell over themselves as they rushed to my aid. I had a girl on each side and one in the front who took my water from me. They seemed ready to break my fall if needed, and I was insanely grateful for it.

"You know, I had a bottle of painkillers from my broken arm last semester. They made me nauseous, so I didn't take them. Would that help?"

"Yes." I said, probably too quickly, but decorum slips right out the window once I'm past my pain threshold. "Give me whatever you have."

As I rested back against the door with fresh pills clutched in my hand, I thought of the stark difference between how close San and I were before high school graduation and the way we were fractured now.

When we graduated high school, I had fought like hell to stop using pills before Yale, and now here I was, needing them again, only the stakes were higher now.

I had to be smart about it.

A part of me wanted to wait for the pills to kick in and go downstairs to re-live our high school days, but there was no getting that back.

I drank down two pills, set an alarm for the morning and then drifted to sleep with memories of what used to be dancing through my head.

The night before our high school graduation, Santana and I stayed up all night watching old John Hughes movies and eating junk food. We talked about where we planned to be after college, how far the glee kids would go and how most of us would take over the planet.

Three years later, aside from Mike, who was off in Chicago, taking the world by storm, I was the only one who seemed to be on their way to graduating college (early, no less) and becoming someone greater than I was in high school.

Even the great Rachel Berry is just a shadow of her former self, and a lot of that has to do with losing Finn, her number-one fan.

As much as I have used men to steer my ship, I always had an end goal independent of being a housewife and mother. I had dreams that were all my own. Rachel lost sight of that the day she kissed Finn on that stage and lost a National performance for us. He was her compass; she had woven him into her success story, and with his gaping absence, she continued to make one dumb mistake after another.

She's gone back to Lima to get insight. She's even dragged us home to help her, but ultimately, it will take someone lighting a fire under her ass, and once it's lit, she'll forget them. Mercedes has chosen to be the one to light the fire, and Kurt will predictably fan her flames. Schue's cult will live on, but I cannot be sucked in.

It's the primary thing I must remember as I fly back to Lima for the summer.

Even with Beth coming back to me, my focus has to remain on getting as far away from that town and the stigmas as possible.

I won't lose sight of it. I've got way too much to lose, and people are waiting to see me fall.

I'd now be using all the love and energy I fed into my underground obsession for one Santana Lopez to direct my future.

Mine and Beth's.

That's all that can remain.

At least for now.

When I decided to graduate three years early, I didn't fully realize that I'd be doing it with people I barely knew.

At first, I got hung up on it, but then I looked out at the few people that I had invited and didn't care.

Even though Britt had come along with Santana and Rachel, having my best friend there looking at me with love meant the world to me.

Somehow, in the two days since I'd seen her, she'd gotten her teeth fixed. Her smile was different, but the spark in her eyes still lingered.

But for once, I didn't acknowledge it.

When the ceremony ended and Britt gave me flowers, while Rachel love-bombed me with endless praise, and Santana just watched, looking amused, I felt overwhelmed.

I felt so much emotion after thinking about the other night nonstop. This was why I was happy that my friends didn't linger; I was sure that the tension between me and Santana would show.

Once they left, I went to dinner with a few of my sorority sisters and my mother, thinking that all was finally right with the world, but then I opened the card that Santana had given with the flowers and my heart swooned.

It was obvious that she had signed it last.

Q-

You give me hope. You inspire me. I'm so fucking proud of you. You are my favorite person. I will love you until my last breath. I will keep my promise. Just promise me that you will continue to keep being the beacon that you are. Don't let anyone dim your light. I love you most today, tomorrow, and forever more.

-S

What a fucking charmer.