Hey! As promised, the new chapter (or at least the first part) is here! For those of you who celebrate it, I wish you all a wonderful holiday season filled with joy, love, and warmth! And to everyone, I hope this time of the year brings you peace and happiness, however you choose to spend it :)
Just Dance: Part I
When they arrived at the dance studio, the trio gasped in awe at the sight of the place. The building's exterior was modern, with large windows that let in the soft glow of the evening light. The entrance was framed by lush greenery, and the sign above the door proudly read in fancy letters: Brittany Pierce Dance Studio.
Inside, the ground floor was an open, airy dance hall with floor-to-ceiling mirrors on one side and a polished oak barrel running along the other. Soft, golden lighting reflected off the pristine wooden floors, creating a warm, inviting glow. At the far end, a stage-like platform served as both a teaching area and a performance space, currently decked out with bouquets of fresh flowers.
"Wow." Mike whistled as the girls looked around. "Brittany really outdid herself here".
Upstairs, a mezzanine overlooked the main floor, offering a cozy lounge area with plush seating, a small bar serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres, and large windows that framed the glittering city skyline. It was clear this wasn't just a studio—it was a statement.
Mercedes paused for a moment, taking it all in, before turning to greet her friends. She spotted Kurt and Blaine first, standing by a group near the staircase, looking effortlessly chic in their tailored suit. She waved, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Oh, my God, what is this place?" She smiled as they hugged.
"I know, everything looks incredible! As do you!" Blaine took her hand and spun her with a flourish. "This dress is gorgeous."
"Thank you! Courtesy of Zuri Fashion." Mercedes grinned, giving a playful shrug.
They chatted a little longer before Mercedes' gaze drifted to the bar, where Santana stood, watching Brittany flit between guests with the grace and poise of a dancer born to shine. Her girlfriend was dazzling tonight, dressed in a fitted, emerald-green dress that caught the light with every movement.
"Look at her," Santana murmured to Mercedes, who had just joined her. "She's in her element. Can you believe she pulled all this off?"
Mercedes glanced at Brittany, who was laughing with a group of impeccably dressed guests. "She's amazing," Mercedes said, her voice filled with admiration. "And this place is stunning. She deserves every bit of this."
Santana nodded, her eyes never leaving Brittany. "You know, she's been dreaming about this for years. All those late nights, private lessons with people who think money can buy rhythm..." She laughed softly, shaking her head. "But she never gave up. And...she's got sponsors, important people showing up—she's the real deal, Mercy."
Mercedes smiled. "She's lucky to have you in her corner."
Santana turned to Mercedes, her smirk softening into something more genuine. "Nah, I'm the lucky one. She's the one who makes everything brighter."
Brittany caught Santana's gaze from across the room and waved. Santana raised her glass in response, her expression a mix of pride and pure adoration.
Mercedes watched the quiet exchange between them, the way they seemed to communicate without words, their connection radiating across the room. It was the kind of love that didn't need grand gestures or proclamations.
When Brittany finally returned to Santana's side, she leaned in to whisper something, and Santana's lips curved into a rare, unguarded smile. They didn't need to say much. Their connection was just there, in the small things—the way Brittany's hand rested on Santana's arm, the way Santana's posture relaxed when Brittany was near. It was steady, effortless, and unspoken.
Mercedes felt a pang of longing she hadn't expected. It wasn't jealousy, exactly, but something quieter. She wanted to believe that kind of connection was possible, but her own history made it hard to imagine. Relationships for her always seemed to come with complications, misunderstandings, and unspoken doubts.
As she turned back to her drink, she couldn't help but wonder: Was that kind of love out of reach for her?
As if on cue, Tina joined the group, leaning in closer to Mercedes. "So...are you okay with the possibility of seeing Sam tonight?"
Mercedes hesitated, her smile faltering for a moment. She thought back to Brittany's heads-up a few days ago, the casual way her friend had mentioned his possible presence.
"Yeah" She answered with a shrug. "There's really no reason not to be, T. I've only met him three times in my life. It'd be ridiculous to get upset over something like that." She paused, her expression thoughtful. "He was so nice, and honestly, I think I just got caught up in the moment. I hadn't been with anyone in a while, and maybe I was a little... I don't know, needy? He was just being friendly and I turned it into something it else."
She smiled, hoping it would convince Tina, though a small part of her knew she couldn't escape unscathed from his presence. Yes, she was feeling fine, but it would be safer not to see him tonight.
"Good," Tina said with a reassuring squeeze of her arm. "And if he gives you any trouble, just let me know. I've been practicing my death glare."
Mercedes laughed, grateful for her friend's support. "Thanks, T. I think I can handle it."
As the night went on, Mercedes couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was just around the corner. And she was right.
She finally spotted him from across the room, and her heart gave a small, traitorous flutter. He was standing near the mezzanine, chatting with a group of people. His laugh echoed faintly over the music. She quickly averted her gaze before he could catch her staring.
It wasn't like she hadn't known he might be here. But knowing and seeing were two very different things. He looked so good. And the way he seemed so at ease, like the room revolved around him, only made her more conscious of her own presence.
Mercedes shifted her weight, glancing toward the bar. Maybe another drink would help. Or maybe she just needed to stay busy, keep her mind on anything but the man who had no business making her heart flutter from across the room.
And she did just that, moving from one group to another, chatting with friends, and taking in the vibrant atmosphere of Brittany's party. She made a point to stay on the opposite side of the room from Sam.
At one point, as she made her way through the crowd, her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of him again, this time much closer, just a few feet away. She froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat.
"Mercedes!" a voice called, pulling her attention back. She turned to see Tina waving her over, relief flooding her chest as she quickly changed direction.
She didn't dare glance back at Sam as she joined her friends in a small circle, but the tingling sensation at the nape of her neck told her he might have seen her.
For the first hours, she had managed to avoid him, but luck had other plans.
"We might not cross paths after all," she thought as she stood by the drinks station, pouring herself another glass of sparkling champagne. The cool fizz was a welcome distraction, but she barely had time to take a sip before a familiar voice spoke beside her.
"I could almost think you were avoiding me tonight."
She stiffened for a moment, then forced herself to relax. Turning to face him, she plastered on a smile. "Avoiding you? Don't be silly."
Sam raised an eyebrow, his smile turning knowing. "Really? Because I swear, every time I looked your way, you were suddenly very interested in the opposite corner of the room."
Mercedes let out a soft laugh, trying to play it off. "I've just been busy, that's all. Lots of people to see, you know how it is."
He didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. "Fair enough. Still, I'm glad I ran into you. I was starting to think I'd done something to upset you."
Her stomach twisted at his words, and she glanced away, fiddling with the stem of her glass. "Why would you think that?" she asked, her voice carefully casual.
Sam tilted his head, studying her for a moment. "Just a feeling," he said simply. Then, after a pause, he added, "But for what it's worth...Kitty's just a colleague. We were wrapping up a project, and she suggested some coffee. That's all it was."
Mercedes blinked, caught off guard by his directness. She hadn't expected him to address it so openly and so suddenly, and yet the way he said it—calm, matter-of-fact—left no room for doubt.
"Oh." She glanced down at her glass, heat rising to her cheeks. So much for being subtle. "You don't need to explain yourself to me, Sam. Really."
"But I'm glad I did," Sam said, his voice low and steady. "I wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea about Kitty and me."
Mercedes raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her gaze. "Why not?"
He leaned casually against the drinks table. "Because then you might think I'm off the market, and that would be... tragic."
She let out a soft laugh, tilting her head as she studied him. "Tragic for who, exactly?"
"You, obviously." He grinned, and this time she couldn't hold back a full laugh.
"No, seriously," he added, his tone softening. "I'd hate to think I'd ruined my chances with someone who looks this good tonight."
And there it was—out in the open. For weeks, she'd let her assumptions fester, convinced there was more to Sam and Kitty than what she'd seen. But now, hearing his explanation and the unmistakable flirtation in his voice, she felt a rush of relief, embarrassment, and undeniable excitement.
"Well, thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself," she replied, giving him a once-over.
"Glad you noticed," he said smoothly. "I was hoping you would."
"Wow. You're bold tonight." Mercedes said, her voice laced with both amusement and curiosity.
Sam shrugged "Maybe I've just decided it's time to stop holding back."
His words hung in the air and Mercedes' thoughts flickered back to that night in the car, the rainstorm pelting the windows as they sat parked on a quiet street. It had been one of those rare, raw moments where the world outside didn't matter. They were talking about something trivial, their voices cutting through the rhythm of the rain, and then… silence. The kind of silence that spoke volumes.
She remembered the way his fingers had drummed lightly on the steering wheel before stilling, his eyes shifting to her as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words. And she, feeling the same pull, had looked back at him, her heart pounding in her chest.
But nothing else had happened.
Sam had smiled—soft, almost wistful—and told her she'd better head inside the building.
And now here he was, standing in front of her, casually tossing out compliments and looking at her like he'd made up his mind about something.
Mercedes tilted her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. "So, what's with the new approach?"
He chuckled, getting another step closer. "Let's just say I've been thinking. About that night. About you."
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say. He wasn't playing coy anymore, and it was throwing her off balance.
"Thinking, huh?" she managed, her voice quieter now.
He nodded slowly. "And I realized I don't want to let another moment like that slip by."
Mercedes opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, someone called Sam's name from across the room. He glanced over his shoulder, his expression tinged with reluctance.
"Looks like I'm being summoned. But don't think this conversation is over."
"Wouldn't dream of it." She smiled.
As she watched Sam walk away, his presence still lingering in the air, Mercedes felt a strange mix of feelings. It was just Sam being Sam—charming and completely disarming.
This was only their fourth meeting, yet he'd already managed to stir so many emotions in her. And now, here he was again, this time openly making it clear that he wanted her, and for the first time in a long while, the idea of being wanted felt good
It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, especially considering that just the day before her mind was far from him, considering him a thing of the past. And she'd been fine. Did she really want to mess with that again?
But that was the problem. She'd spent so much time convincing herself she didn't need anyone, that she was better off on her own. And now, here was Sam—suddenly, undeniably interested. It was tempting, almost too tempting, to let herself fall into that.
But wasn't it too soon? Wasn't she just getting back to a place where she could be okay on her own?
She stared at the almost empty glass in her hand, her mind racing. The night was still young, and the music pulsed around her, but inside, she felt frozen. What was she supposed to do with this feeling? This pull toward him that seemed so natural and so wrong at the same time?
She had promised herself tonight would be about having fun and avoiding complicated feelings. But that plan seemed to be unraveling ever since she'd laid eyes on Sam—and the night was far from over. Downing the rest of her champagne, she turned back to the drink station. She'd need another.