Chapter 9: first apology
To Brittany / Hey Brittany. How are you
6 days later – To Santana / Hey Santana, I'm okay. How are you?
Simple question. Easy one too. So why did it take 6 days for her to answer me? And what kind of answer is that?
Does that mean 'I'm not interested, but I pity you so I'll give a short response?' Also … six days! Does this mean I have to wait that long too, to answer?
5 days later – to Brittany / I'm doing fine, thanks for asking.
There. A bit shorter wait for her, and if she wants, she doesn't have to answer… Wow, what is happening to me? If it would be any other person, I would never, and I mean never ever in my whole life act and think so much about a text message. This is ridiculous…
Would she answer?
8 days later – to Santana / Hey, I'm sorry I'm taking so long to answer. I'm terrible with phones. I either lose my phone or I forget to answer. It's already a miracle I have one. So yeah … it's not me ghosting you or something. Anyway. What ry up to these days?
…
We've been texting like that for four months now! And she wasn't lying, she said it can take her a while to answer a text … her record of waiting to answer me is 10 days! I mean … I get not everyone has their phone duct-taped to their hand, but this is just a whole other level…
I mean come on! You can't have a decent conversation with someone if the response time is more than a few days on average. The longer she takes to answer, the longer I take. It's a reciprocity. And we're stuck in it. I don't know. This feels strange and useless.
"Santana, we're here. Are you ready?" Quinn's voice rises up from out of my thoughts. It makes me almost drop my phone, but I catch it at the last moment.
"Huh.. yeah yeah." She's giving me a questioning look. I just shrug.
I quickly step out of the car, before she can question me further. Once fully out of the vehicle, I look up at the studio in front of us. There's a small plaque at the entrance. It's a logo of the Golden Star Studios…
I frown. "Quinn, what part of 'I don't want to pay that piece of shit that owns the golden star studios anything ever anymore' was not clear to you?"
The smile that was plastered on her face from seeing a text message on her phone (probably Sam) quickly changes in confusion. "What do you mean?"
I point towards the plaque at the entrance, recognition falling over her face. "Shit. I didn't know. That must be pretty recently. I thought they were an independent studio not too long ago. Give me a quick second, I'll go talk to someone."
She walks inside with intension. Meanwhile I stay at the car, not sure yet if I should get my stuff out or not. Not even five minutes later I see Quinn opening the front door, giving me a thumbs up and gesturing me to get inside.
Trusting her train of thought, I quickly get everything out I need and close the car before I walk over to Quinn.
"It's okay. Golden Star studios bought them out, but they're still independent in their payments. Their only allowance is to forward artists when their own planning is full. In reverse they've got a stability because Gold Star is much bigger. They can take advantage of it, like when they have need of an extra technician on a day. They can quickly call them up. So there you go." Not hearing any confirmation from me, she just stops explaining it further.
Meanwhile I'm too stuck on how much chance there is to see a certain technician wandering around here … "San? Is that okay? I figured you'd be fine. Plus it would be a lot of rescheduling to find another studio to sing in today."
Absent minded I tell her it's fine, before we install ourself in the studio they've prepared for us to use. Part of me feels disappointed at seeing the male technician that assists us in recording my songs. Part of me didn't expect anything else.
…
The recording went as usual. Good.
Once we're ready to leave the building, I hear Quinn's footsteps slow down, before she calls out a name that peaks my interest immediately. "Brittany?"
My head snaps back, seeing Brittany look at us with a confused look. I need a second to compose myself of seeing her … It's not that she doesn't look good, I mean, have you seen her? But … something is off. She looks extremely tired, that's the first that comes to my intention. The bags under her eyes are almost a dark blue and she looks even paler than normal.
Her hair is put in a clumsy tail, like she didn't even bother to check her hair in the mirror and ran towards here while she made the dot. And her clothes … I like her style, but they look so rampaged, like they haven't seen a cleaner in months. Plus the hoody is nice, but it's combined with trousers that are almost training pants … that's not something to wear to your workplace, is it? Or is Kurt getting too much in my mind?
I don't know. Something is … strange.
"Quinn? Santana? Oh hey, what are you doing here?" Her voice sounds very sombre, almost no intonation in it. It's odd, since she's asking us something, but there's nothing in her body language that shows an interest. Either she's having the worst hangover ever (though that won't be it, she doesn't drink if I remember correctly), or she just received bad news or she's having the worst day ever.
"You okay?" Quinn speaks up before I can formulate an answer. Hmm, seems I'm not imagining things.
Brittany clears her throat, trying to compose her posture to a more uptight one. "Yeah yeah, sorry, I'm a bit tired." Her intonation has become much more light weighted … weird. "Anyway, I have to go." Looking directly towards me, something in her lights up. Though it's not enough to start a conversation. Instead I get a half-hardy 'see you next time' throwed to my head before she's out of our sight.
Quinn and I exchange a confused look, not really sure how the Brittany we just saw in front of us, is the same one we worked with a few months ago.
"If this doesn't mean she doesn't want anything to do with me, then I don't know what could be." I mumble, barely audible for Quinn to hear.
She only looks back once more, a puzzled look plastered on her face. Seems she realises she was wrong and Brittany really did reject me. Whatever. I'm over it.
That evening
"What happened to your mood today Santana?" Kurt oh so subtly asks.
I don't answer. Give me one more minute to stand in my emotion please.
"Oh ignore her. Girl problems." Quinn answers for me.
I shoot her a warning look, which makes her shut up. "Oh do tell me later." Kurt says, before he hits me on my arm. "But behave for now. This is the first real conversation with Blaine, please don't scare him away." He pleads.
I open my mouth to answer, but another voice calls Kurt's name from a distance. Three pairs of eyes turn around to the source, seeing the boy who I saw Kurt flirting with in the store some time ago.
Kurt shrieks. Like actually shrieks from excitement. Quinn and I exchange an amused look. It's been a while since Kurt acted so … happy around a boyfriend. It's nice to see I guess.
After they greeted each other (a little too love-dopey for my taste), they come to our table. We're at a local bar, not too far from Quinn's place. It's a nice and cozy place. There's not a lot of choices to eat or drink. They only offer 15 sort of drinks and some chips. That's it. I prefer a combination of some lunch snacks. But overall, it's an okay choice for a first interaction between friends and significant others.
"Quinn." Kurt points to Quinn before he focuses my attention on me. "Santana." There a bit more warning in his tone. Unnecessary in my opinion. I'll behave all right. I'm not some child who can't keep their emotions in check. "Meet Blaine. He's in the band Celtic Wolves you guys saw some time ago in Sugar's bar, and Santana you've seen him in that clothing store too."
"Yes, thank you Santana for pushing him to ask for my number." Blaine says.
Erg. What a slimebag. No points for you mister. Try again…
"Hey Blaine, nice to meet you." Quinn shakes hands with the guy, and after a soft encouraging kick from her I do the same.
I take a minute to analyse the boy further. Conversation starts without me, something about how they met exactly and all that… Okay. What to see? … Addicted to bowties. That's for sure. I've only seen him three times in my life and every time he wore one. What's so special about those?
What else? Oh, hair gel much? I thought Kurt wasn't that big a fan of hair gel … guess he changed his mind. Though okay, I must admit, he's handsome. A perfect combination with Kurt. But I don't know … the word slimebag or slob just keeps coming back to surface. His soft voice seeming like he could break into song any time (yep, perfect match for Kurt), his gentle eyes who look like they give you his full attention … I don't like it.
… "Oh yes, Kurt told me about your side off project. That sounds amazing Quinn! It must take a lot of gut to develop and help people who are starting something from scratch or are in trouble. It speaks a lot about your pure intentions for what you want in life." I hear Blaine say in the background. Hah. He's got Quinn figured out at least, or maybe Kurt gave him some tips before this conversation.
He must be a nice person, so for that he'll get my approval … but we'll never be close friends, I'm sure of that. Same like with Sam… that guy and this one … erg. Something is not in my groove about those two. It might be something to do with me being protective about my friends, but I don't care. It's my opinion. Leave it or let it be.
Either way, I do my best to interact with the guy and give Kurt something to be proud of his friends about. Our talk goes smoothly and compliments bounce of each other at a tempo like a ping pong match … not the Olympic games speed though … I can't believe I'm part of it. I can be such a smooth talker, it's ridiculous.
After a while Kurt and Blaine offer to get some more drinks, which Quinn and I eagerly agree to. We've talked a lot and it's hot as hell in this bar.
It doesn't take them long to come back, and my attention peeks when I hear the name 'Brittany' drop into their conversation.
Quinn, the queen of subtlety, interrupts the private conversation happening between the two guys. "Oh that's right, you know Brittany too right?"
Blaine's eyes flash towards us, not bothered with the interruption luckily. "Yes! She's a great friend of mine. I actually got to know her because of Rory, who's in the Celtic Wolves."
"Is she okay?" Quinn asks, without giving any other context.
Of course Blaine frowns at that. "Uh, I guess?" A slight panic crosses his face. "Why do you ask?"
Quinn shrugs his panic away, showing there's no acute problem going on. "We just saw her this morning, and I don't know." She gives me a quick look, but continues herself after seeing me unwilling to pick up the conversation. "We worked with her a few months ago and that went really well, but this morning … something seemed off. Right Santana?"
I affirm, but don't give any other information. Kurt gives me a puzzled look, Blaine an intriguing one. "Yes, she talked about that job! A lot actually. She was very impressed by the both of you, and I must say … that doesn't happen often with Brittany. Especially you Santana. I've never heard her talk about someone with so much … admiration."
Surprise takes over my face. "She did? What did she say?"
I guess he didn't realise he was talking about the private thoughts of someone else, because he shuts down. "Erg. I mean … I should not have said that. I should not mingle in someone else's lo- life. I'm sorry." Seeing my face full with expectations he sighs. "Look. All I can say, is that she's not having her greatest year, but she's perfectly fine. Brittany's a very strong person, you must have caught her on a wrong moment this morning."
Sensing there's nothing else he'll give me, we turn the conversation back to another subject. Brittany doesn't come up anymore for the rest of the night. Part of me is disappointed about that. Part of me has let it go already. Blaine here says she's fine? Then I'll say it again. Nobody rejects Santana Lopez. Not once. And definitely not twice!
A few weeks later
Pink everywhere. Lollipops surrounding me it almost feels like some weird exposure therapy. It makes me want to eat sweets. In a bar!?
Uh, forgive me. I will never get over the theme Sugar decided to use for her bar. It's ridiculous. I know it. My friends get it. The world knows it. Everyone except Sugar. Yet for some unexplainable reason, the bar's still always working on its full capacity. How's that possible?
"Quinn! Santana! Here, free drinks!" Sugar pops out of the crowd, seemingly out of nowhere. Quinn gratefully accepts the drinks. I'm a bit more sceptical.
"Where are those drinks from?" I question.
"Oh just annoying customers who claimed to have ordered another drink." Seeing my offensive look she shrugs my worries away. "Don't worry. They didn't drink from it or anything. I'm not going to sink that low. I've got standards to uphold in this bar you know." She sighs heavily, it's so un-Sugar like.
Quinn tunes into the conversation. "Everything okay Sugar?"
"Yeah, yeah. It's just the bar … it's extremely difficult to find new bands who want to play here, for some reason they don't come knock on the door to perform here."
"Maybe put some posters in the bar, saying you're looking for new performers?" Quinn gestures around the bar for emphasis.
Sugar only sighs in response. "I know … but that's a lot of work." Shrugging her worries already away before we can say anything else, she gestures to a boy. He seems familiar, recognition getting clearer the closer he comes. "Luckily I've got Rory, my new boyfriend." There's a proudness in her tone that makes me huff inwardly. So cheesy. "… His band performs almost every week. He's my life saviour!"
Also Rory? Rory who? Oh wait a minute! Blaine's buddy Rory. I remember that night. I didn't expect them to get together, their conversation I witnessed a few months ago was so awkward …Nonetheless, this is nice. I'm happy for her… I guess.
"You know Santana could always help you out too right?" I hit Quinn on her arm. "Santana is right here and makes her own decisions." Looking away from the blonde and back towards Sugar, I see she's clinging onto Rory. "But I would … do you have a good sound stereo?"
"It's top of the morning here." Rory pipes in. What the hell did he just say?
"Otherwise we can always call Brittany to help out. Right San?" Quinn teases. Ugh. Just not the time. I glare at her. Rory speaks up again.
"Brittany? Brittany Pierce?" Rory asks. I nod. "Oh, she'd love that.." Quinn and I both have a questioning look on our face. "She's my best friend." He shrugs. "The way she talked about those two weeks she could work with you …" Seeing my surprised, hopeful look, he realises he might have been saying too much. "I mean, erg, she did tell you that right?"
"What else did she say? Did she want to work together again? Does she want to? Would she like to do that?"
Quinn rolls her eyes. "Don't listen to her Rory, she's just insecure about what Brittany thinks of her. She got rejected by her and now she's moody about it."
At that, the Irish boy frowns. "She rejected you?"
I cross my arms, not liking how this conversation suddenly became about me. "Yes she did. Now can we please change the subject." Though before anyone can come up with another subject, another part of me gets too curious to ignore. "What do you mean by that? Why does that confuses you?" I ask the green-eyed tall boy.
He gets a bit flustered. "Erg well, I don't want to say things Brittany doesn't want to share…" I take a subtle step closer to him, and it works, because he gets a bit more pale before speaking truthfully. "I don't know for sure okay." Giving one more threatening look he raises his arms in surrender. "All I know, and can say, is that she's definitely interested in you."
"Then why did she reject me? And why was she acting like she wanted to get away from me as fast as possible the last time I saw her?" I demand.
He shrugs, his mouth a thin line. Part of me is impressed and happy Brittany has such a loyal friend, but I just want some answers right now, screw loyalty.
Seemingly my threatening has no further impression on the guy… I huff, gulping my drink in one go. "I have to go." I announce, brusquely turning around.
"Hey!" Rory calls me back. I stop, but don't turn. "Just … give her time … she's having a rough time … and if you give her space and patience … you'll discover what awesome person she is. So please don't give up just yet." He says in his heavy Irish accent.
I'm not in the mood to converse anymore, but I did hear his words loud and clear.
"I'm sorry about her Rory. I promise another time she'll be nicer… so, how's it going with you two in …" I hear Quinn's voice slowly edging away, before the background noise takes over for my hearing.
I wasn't even aware this was the first official meet of Sugar and Rory as a couple. My minds too occupied with something else. I was finally starting to get over this girl, and now her best friend tells me this? What the hell do I do with that? Uh, this is so frustrating!
Four months later
Strong, slightly smaller hands then my own, gently squeeze my shoulders. Hazel green eyes look back to me in the mirror that stands in front of me. "You ready?" Quinn asks.
I shrug. "Born ready." … "And the healthy amount of nerves too." I softly add.
"You still get nervous? You've been going at it for almost a whole month now!" Kurt pikes up.
He's right. Ever since my new album came out two months ago, Quinn and I started to plan a tour. A bigger one then the previous tour. This one is on much bigger stages with much bigger crowds. It's an adjustment. The energy feels different. Even more ecstatic or something? There's no feeling like more than ten thousand people screaming your songs out.
"It's the last one before our break. There's like this extra stuff hanging in the air you know. Plus, isn't this the biggest stadium we played in? What's wrong with a bit of nerves?" I claim.
Kurt rolls his eyes. "Easy, I didn't mean to offend you. You're totally right. A bit of nerves never go away… except maybe for Rachel, that girl seems to never have any nerves for anything. Uh…" Seeing my unamused look, he smoothly transitions the conversation. "Anyway, Blaine is coming tonight!" He claps in his own hands out of excitement.
"Let me guess. " I gesture towards his outfit, which is actually nice to be honest. It's a black top costume, with small grey vertical lines, combined with some sort of tailored costume shorts that almost look like a skirt, but still stylish. And his boots … I'm never going to tell him, but I'm jealous. "…Don't tell me Blaine is wearing an outfit that totally matches your own, combined with a ridiculously coloured bowtie?" I tease.
There's a knock on the door before Kurt can respond, which Quinn opens. It's the head of engineer. He couldn't be more dressed like his profession. Sneakers that doubtfully have a safety shoe-function in them, a loose jeans that has seen better days. That, is combined with a black shirt that says 'light & sound'.
He whispers something I can't hear. I'm too far away from the door. But not a second later Quinn turns back around and looks for my attention. Apparently she's called away for some final check-ups for the stage, she'll be right back.
Kurt speaks up again like there hasn't be any interruptions. "As a matter of fact, Blaine is choosing his own clothing's Santana. I'm not that controlling." I can't hold back my laughter at that. "Okay sure."
"You can be such an ass." He mumbles.
I don't mind, not the first time I've been called that ."Come on, let me have my fun." I poke him in the side.
He shrieks. "Hey! Do you want me to do your hair or not? I can easily walk away now. Gives me more quality time with Blaine."
I fake a pout. "I'm sorry"
"Wow, so sincere." He judges.
I don't react. We fall into our routine of me sitting still and him doing my hair. It's a nice moment, but awkwardness hangs in the air. I don't know why. Kurt is a close friend of mine, but sometimes there's also a thin line between friendship and teasing each other to the point it's not funny anymore. We don't have that much in common, so it's not like we can find common ground and clear the air by making small talk.
After some more silence I sigh. "I'm happy for you Kurt. Blaine seems a nice guy." … there. An apology and a compliment equals my gratefulness for him not running away from me… Seems like he gets the message, since he only gently hums in response.
…
When he's finished with my hair, he leaves me alone, letting me prepare for the concert in silence.
I always prepare myself for a performance alone. I call it (in my head, never out loud, it sounds lame) my pre-performance routine. Call it paranoia, call it stupid, I don't care. I always, always do that routine before a performance.
First I sit myself on a chair, two feet solid on the ground (which almost always means I need to sit at the tip of the chair in order to put my feet on the ground. Lots of chairs make me feel so small). Anyway. So feet on the ground, sit tall. Sing two octaves to warm up (that is before my actual vocal warm up). Do a breathing exercise for nine minutes with a nice gentle fire-sound on the background.
After that: drink three sips of water. Jump ten times to get excited and do two burpees just to get my heart rate up. Check myself in the mirror that nothing drastically has changed from the jumping and off I go, ready to conquer the evening.
With confidence in my step I walk towards the backstage, Quinn already in sight to wave me over. There's a look in her eyes I can't quite decipher, but I won't put my energy in that now. Now it's time to perform.
Getting a thumbs up from Quinn and some other backstage people I've never met (weird, right?) and the show starts in 3 … 2 … 1.
…
"Thank you everyone! You were an amazing crowd! Get home safely. And for those who have extra spare time, I'll be at the entrance for some time. If you want to talk or have an autograph that is." I wink. The crowd laughs. "Alright. Bye everyone!"
I can't put the huge smile off my face. I know I've said I like small crowds more, because of the personal touch. But this is cool too. A mix of both is perfect. Wow. My life right now … I should enjoy it more.
"You were amazing Santana". Quinn attacks me with a hug before I'm fully of stage. "Your first song after the break … your grandfather would be so proud San." She whispers in my ear.
A small lump forms in my throat, those words mean the world to me. Singing the song I wrote for my grandfather is still so emotional to perform. I hope he hears me…
I hope he's proud.
Whispering a thanks in her ear we let go of each other. I've still got some socializing to do this evening. All the other talk could be done later. "Hey did I saw Sam in the crowd?" I question Quinn, whose face just lit up a bit more. "Yes, he wasn't sure he could make it, but he took the week off to spend with me and since he was already here, I suggested to come to your performance."
There's a sceptical look on my face. Quinn sighs. "He's trying San, cut him some slack." I huff, but my composure softens. "Okay, this is a nice gesture of him. Especially taking the week off."
Nodding approvingly , there's something else that flashes through the blonde's mind. "Oh! You'll never guess who I saw!" I don't interact in the game, too many names to choose from in my opinion. She ignores my lack of reaction. "It's a certain blonde woman who works in the technical department…"
I can't hold back my eyes from scanning the room, afraid she's here. "Brittany?" After scanning the room, seeing she's not here I look back to Quinn. "What is she doing here? I thought she worked back in studios?" Almost laughing at my reaction (probably because not a week ago I explicitly told her I'm over her for good), I tone down my fear-reaction. "I mean … what does it matter?"
The flashback of her first rejection, and then the situation a few months ago where she almost literally ran away from me, combined with the lack of response on my texts, wake up an anger in me I can't seem to temper anymore. "Where is she? I'd like to talk to her."
Before I can take more than two steps, Quinn grabs me by the arm, holding me back. "Wow, easy San. Not like that you're going to talk to her. Remember Rory?"
I huff. "I know, I should give her time. And I should cut her some slack since she's having a rough time. But come on … I don't …" I raise my hands in disappointment. "What should I think? She does nothing else then not show an interest nowadays. It's not because her friend thinks she's into me I should believe him, right?" I raise my hands out of frustration, before quickly cooling down again.
Instead a deep frown forms on my face. "…It confuses me … I mean come on, I'm Santana Lopez. No girl leaves me hanging on the line for no reason. Or at least I don't let them." I hold my hand in a stop-motion towards Quinn before she can respond. "I just want some answers Quinn. Can I just talk to her?"
After some moments, the blonde nods. "Okay, I'll ask around, she'll be here somewhere." Looking behind my shoulder there's some security, patiently waiting to bring me to the entrance of the building. Quinn almost literally pushes me away. "But first you have some more socialising to do." Seeing my reluctance she stops for a moment. "I promise I'll find her in this maze Santana, she'll be here when you're back."
…
It's always nice to meet some fans. Part of me feels undeserving for all that praise. Part of me loves the attention. Though tonight my mind wasn't on the people in front of me. I hope they didn't notice anything. I'm a good actress, so … I don't think they did. But now that the last people are walking out of the building, I quickly ask one of the security guards if they know where Quinn is hanging out.
I need to hold back a funny remark at seeing him talk into his earpiece. It looks so funny, like in those spy movies. However, it does the job, because he asks me to follow him. He'll walk me back towards her.
From a distance I can hear Quinn's voice conversing with another one. If I'm not mistaken it's Brittany's. They can't see me yet, there's still a corner to bypass. It's the perfect opportunity to listen to their conversation.
"Yes, honestly, I've seen a lot of artists perform from the backstage, and Santana is definitely such a natural talent. The way she can sing and make the audience feel special …"
I try to subtly slow my step, wanting to hear more of Brittany's thoughts, but one thing this bodyguard is not .. is subtle. He doesn't seem to realise I'm slowing down. That, or he just doesn't care. Either way, it makes us interrupt the interesting conversation that was happening. Unfortunately …
"Here you go Miss Santana. I'll be back at the entrance, if you don't need me for something else?" The guard questions. I shake my head and thank him for bringing me before he starts to walk back to his previous destination.
"Santana hey!" Quinn calls me, gesturing to come closer.
There's a much gentler and authentic smile on Brittany's face. Very different from the last time I saw her. It's … refreshing. Also confusing. And … yeah nope, confusing.
"Hey Santana." Brittany greets, before I can say something first. "I owe you an apology." She says, exchanging a quick glance with Quinn. "I didn't mean to be so distant and unpolite the last time I saw you. So I'm sorry."
She seems genuine. Quinn shows all the signs she trusts the blonde again, which makes part of me feel relieved. The other part is still a bit hurt and mad though… "Okay… What happened, if I may ask, to make you act that way?" I try to keep my anger out of my voice, trying to stand open for any reason she'll offer. Blaine and Rory could be right, she could have a real excuse to act the way she did. Avoiding me. Saying I'm awesome, before rejecting me … again.
"Uhm…" Her posture falls down a bit. She starts to nervously rub her hands against each other, a slight stutter clearly present in her voice. "I was having a bit of a rough week, and you know how that goes…" She laughs awkwardly. Seeing no reaction from me she clears her throat. "People have good days and they have bad days, and conversing with people that day … it was just too much you know?"
I cross my arms, but for some reason I'm already a bit more forgiving. "All right, I can understand that … but why the ignoring of my texts? Why do you act so excited to see me one moment, and the other moment like you can't get rid of me fast enough?" My emotions start to run over. God. What happened to the tough Santana nobody can hurt? A year ago me would have laughed in my face of how vulnerable I hold myself here.
She opens her mouth, but I hold up my hand to stop her. "No wait, I'm not finished. I can truly understand you weren't feeling well, but come on Brittany. Give me something to work with here. Do you want to date me or not? Or friends. Or something? Just give me some feedback please, so we can both move on." I approach her a bit more, Quinn subtly taking a step back from our conversation, realising this is maybe too personal to listen to. I give her a quick grateful nod before I give Brittany my full attention again, demanding an answer with my eyes.
At some point, something in her breaks and she falls against the wall that was very close behind her, slumping down on the ground.
Shit.
I took it too far.
"Brittany?" My voice suddenly an octave lower and softer, trying to sound more gentle and friendly. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you panic…"
"No, it's okay Santana." She pulls up her sleeve to wipe away a tear. Okay, now I made her cry? I really can be too forward sometimes. I feel awful. I'm trying to formulate another apology, but she starts to talk again.
"It's just … you freak me out so much Santana… I feel things around you my body never felt before." I need to kneel down next to her, otherwise I'm having a great amount of difficulty to understand her. "II … it's … it's so foreign and strange. And new … I like my routines you know? I like being on my own." Sensing I'm sitting next to her, she dares to look over. Her blue eyes even more clearer now, even though there are tears almost flowing freely now. " And that day we saw each other again and those texts … I'm just not a social person. Especially when I don't know the other yet. I can say the strangest things when I feel nervous or when I meet new people … Plus, I've had such a bad year … the reason I was acting so strange … I was experimenting with some anti-depressants the doctor prescribed to me but it's like everything suddenly felt numb … so I quit a few weeks ago, but then already so much time had passed since you texted and I was afraid…" She wipes away a few more tears.
"Oh so that's why you're in Technicable Theatre Building, because of a depression?" Quinn unashamedly states.
If I would have stand close enough, I would've hit her with all my might. Instead I shoot her a dangerous look before brining my attention back over to Brittany. "I apologize Brittany. Quinn is a lot of things … subtle is not one of them."
She just shrugs, saying it's no problem, but Quinn apologizes a few times more anyway. Guess her conscious woke up a second too late.
An arm on my shoulder makes me look away from Brittany. It's Quinn, offering some handkerchiefs, before she clumsily backs off again, trying to seem busy with her phone… It's a nice gesture, but not my priority right now. I offer one of them to Brittany who silently thanks me.
Seeing my undivided attention towards her she hits her head with her hands out of frustration. "Would you look at me. I'm sorry! Here you are, being so nice to me and I'm a mess!"
"Hey Brittany, don't say sorry. This is totally fine. I was being too forward, I apologize. I'm just .."
She waves my apology away. "No no. I get it. I am being very confusing towards you. It's like I'm keeping you on the line and that's not okay. You just …" Part of me wants to interrupt her, but it seems like she needs to get this of her chest. "You have this power over me that I don't know what to do with. So I thought if I ignore it long enough it'll go away. But it doesn't."
I can't seem to hold back a small laugh. "You mean an attraction?"
She sniffs. "What?"
I'm bold enough to gently hold her arm, and she doesn't seem to mind. "I feel that too.. you've never felt an attraction towards someone before?" I question.
She shrugs. "I don't …" she sighs. "I can't think clearly anymore. I'm sorry. It's been a long day and now this unexpected …"
I slowly stand up, offering her my hand. "How about we continue this some other day? I think it's better if we both get a good night rest, don't you think?" Seeing some stress falling off her shoulders, I give myself a congrats on guessing the right response. "Come on. How'd you get here?"
She grabs my hand and pulls herself up. Her touch featherlight. "By bus, and I forgot my keys.." she frowns. "Normally I'd call my sister but she's not at home. Shit. I don't want to bother her."
Before she can think of a solution, my mouth's already speaking before my mind catches up. "How about you stay at my place? It's already past midnight. I don't like you being on a bus at this time of hour." Hearing my thoughts I blush a bit. "By sleeping I mean I'll take the couch and you can use my bedroom. By yourself. I'll leave you alone."
Out of the corner of my eyes I see Quinn triumphing with an amusing look on her face. I'm a mess. It's ridiculous how much I have the hots for this girl. I mean … crying in a hallway? Normally I'd bolt away. Here I only seem to feel compassion and a need to help.
"I can't ask you to do that Santana. It's okay, I'll figure it out."
Looking for a clear 'no discussion' answer, Quinn's first to react. "Nonsense Brittany. Just accept the offer. Come on, I'll drive."
A flash of slight fear crosses Brittany's eyes, which I get. If Quinn uses her no discussion possible voice, then there is no possibility to protest.
I'm just glad she used the voice on someone else for a change. Makes me glad I'm not the only one to be the receiver of that…
After some more rejection from Brittany while we're in the car, fatigue takes over and the resistance from offering my place to stay the night gets weaker and weaker. Once at the location, she thanks me and Quinn a thousand times over and we get ready for bed, both probably thinking of the conversation that lays ahead tomorrow.
I need time to think. If I know two things now, then it's this: Brittany is having (or had) a rough time, and I want to support her with her mental health struggle in any way I can. Next to that, she feels an attraction too, and I feel some ideas coming to mind to sweep her off her feet completely.
I'm going to ignore player-part Santana for a second. She's screaming at me and calling me lame, but one image of the blonde in my mind overpowers that voice immediately. One image and another far away voice of my abuelo just keeps coming back to the surface …
Part of me can't wait for tomorrow. Part of me is terrified of this new path that's opening up.