Happy New Year! I pray that this year be amazing for you all! to start off this year, I have a few updates for you! I hope you enjoy it! And if you have an update that you want to see please let me know and I will work on it. That being said, I know you wanted to see Glee World updated! I think I am just going to start that one over, just reedit what i have to improve it thne start from where I left off. Enjoy! Love you!
Mercedes crossed her arms, looking between Santana and Sugar, who both seemed ready to stage an intervention. "Y'all are making a bigger deal out of this than it is. It's not like Sam and I are dating. And I'm not going to stand in Quinn's way."
Santana scoffed, leaning forward, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Stand in her way? Mercedes, this isn't some rom-com where you're the villain. If Sam kissed you, you're the leading lady. Quinn can find her own guy—or another puppy to follow her around."
"Santana," Mercedes warned, though she couldn't hide her small smile.
"You know I'm right," Santana continued, tossing her hair over her shoulder with dramatic flair. "And don't even get me started on this 'he went out with her anyway' thing. That just means he's trying to figure out where his head is at. His heart? It's clearly with you."
"Clearly," Sugar echoed, leaning back in her chair as if the matter was already settled. "And for the record, Quinn isn't competition, Mercedes. She's... what's the word? A distraction."
"A distraction?" Mercedes repeated, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes! Like when you're trying to focus on a diet, and someone puts a plate of cookies in front of you," Sugar explained with a flourish. "Quinn is the cookie. Temporary. You, my friend, are the gourmet meal."
Mercedes let out a small laugh despite herself. "That's... colorful, Sugar."
"I'm just saying what we're all thinking," Sugar said, shrugging dramatically.
Mercedes sighed, shaking her head. "Y'all are impossible."
Santana smirked. "You mean we're right."
"You're not right," Mercedes countered, standing her ground. "I've got too much on my plate to even think about this right now. Between work, my health, and..." She hesitated, then gestured vaguely. "Everything else, I don't have the energy for drama. And Sam dating Quinn is not my business."
Sugar leaned forward, her expression softening. "Mercedes, you're too good for your own good. You're always putting everyone else first. When are you going to let yourself be happy?"
"Yeah, what she said," Santana added, pointing a finger at Mercedes. "And don't give us that 'I'm fine' nonsense. We've known you too long for that."
Mercedes opened her mouth to respond, but a knock on the door cut her off. She blinked, glancing at her friends. "Are either of you expecting someone?"
Santana shook her head, her curiosity piqued. "Unless it's the coffee I ordered an hour ago, no."
Sugar perked up. "Maybe it's Sam coming to confess his love."
Mercedes shot her a look before crossing the room to open the door. Standing there, with his signature smirk and an air of casual confidence, was Silas.
"Well, well," Santana muttered under her breath. "Speaking of tall, blond, and Evans."
Mercedes blinked in surprise. "Silas?"
"The one and only," Silas said smoothly, stepping inside and glancing around the office. "Hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all," Sugar chimed in, flashing a bright smile. "We were just talking about Mercedes' love life."
"Which doesn't exist," Mercedes cut in quickly, giving Sugar a pointed look before turning to Silas. "What are you doing here?"
Silas shrugged, his grin widening. "Quinn's tour is... let's just say it's not exactly riveting. Figured I'd come find the fun crowd." His gaze flicked to Santana and Sugar. "And I was right. Mind if I hang out?"
"Be our guest," Santana said, giving him a once-over. "We're much better company than a Quinn monologue, I'm sure."
"Agreed," Sugar added, nodding enthusiastically.
Mercedes rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small laugh. "Alright, Silas. But don't let me catch you stirring up trouble."
"Trouble?" Silas repeated, feigning innocence as he dropped into the chair Sugar had vacated. "I'm a perfect angel."
Santana snorted. "You're an Evans. I am pretty sure trouble is in your DNA."
Silas grinned, leaning back comfortably. "Maybe. But I've also been told I'm the charming brother."
Mercedes groaned, throwing her hands up. "Why do I feel like I'm about to regret this?"
"Because you will," Santana quipped, her eyes gleaming. "But that's what makes life fun."
The banter flowed easily, laughter filling the room as Silas settled in with Mercedes and her friends. Despite herself, Mercedes felt the tension she'd been carrying all morning start to fade.
As Sugar and Santana told Silas about Mercedes's issue with Sam and Quinn, much to her annoyance, Silas leaned back in the chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Alright, I've gotta jump in here. From what I'm hearing, Mercedes has a dilemma. On the one hand, there's my little brother Sam, who—let's be honest—probably hasn't stopped thinking about you since the moment he met you Because I know I haven't."
Mercedes felt her cheeks heat. "Silas—"
He held up a hand, cutting her off. "Let me finish. And on the other hand, there's Quinn, who—if we're being brutally honest—likes to collect men the way some people collect handbags. Correct me if I'm wrong?"
Santana whistled low, clearly impressed. "Oh, I like him."
Sugar nodded enthusiastically. "Finally, someone who sees it!"
Mercedes groaned, covering her face. "I can't believe this is happening."
Silas laughed, leaning forward, his elbows resting casually on his knees. "What I'm saying, Mercedes, is that maybe you're overthinking this whole thing. If Sam kissed you, it's because he wanted to. If he's still thinking about you, it's because he wants to. Quinn isn't part of the equation unless you let her be."
Santana nodded in approval, snapping her fingers. "Preach."
Sugar clapped her hands like a coach at halftime. "Seriously, can we keep him around? He gets it."
Silas smirked. "Well, since Mercedes is all about my brother and I don't have a chance with her...you can keep me all you want.
Mercedes lowered her hands, giving Silas a flat look. "Are you done?"
Silas tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Almost. One more thing."
She raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"Maybe, just maybe, you should start thinking about what you want. Forget Quinn. What does Mercedes want?"
The room went quiet, and Mercedes shifted uncomfortably under everyone's gaze. Silas's words hit too close to home, unearthing the nerve she'd been trying to bury.
"I want..." She trailed off, biting her lip.
"To be happy," Santana finished for her, her tone uncharacteristically soft.
"Yeah, happy," Sugar echoed, her usually lighthearted expression sincere. "You know, with the whole butterflies, smiling-for-no-reason kind of thing. Not the 'I'm being polite because I have to' vibe you've been giving off lately."
Mercedes looked at her friends, her walls threatening to crack. "It's not that easy," she muttered.
"It never is," Silas agreed, leaning back in his chair again. "But complicated doesn't mean impossible. Trust me, I've seen Sam's eyes light up when he talks about you. That's not something you ignore. And yeah, I get it; life's messy, and there's a lot to think about. But you deserve more than to keep sidelining yourself for other people."
Santana crossed her legs, pointing at Silas with mock approval. "Okay, I officially like this one. Sam's great and all, but Silas might be the Evans I'd actually call if I were in trouble."
"High praise," Silas said, smirking. "I'll take it."
Sugar gasped as if she'd just solved a mystery. "Maybe Silas can be your wingman! He can talk to Sam for you, smooth things over, and then—"
"Absolutely not," Mercedes cut in, glaring at both of them. "This isn't high school. And I don't need anyone meddling in my life."
"Could've fooled me," Santana muttered under her breath.
Silas chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No meddling... think about what I said."
Mercedes exhaled, crossing her arms again. "Y'all are impossible."
Santana grinned, leaning back in her chair. "You mean we're right."
Sugar winked. "Ridiculously right," she corrected, earning a laugh from Santana and Silas.
Despite herself, Mercedes felt a slight smile tug at her lips. Maybe they weren't entirely wrong... but that didn't make things any less complicated.
As Mercedes and Silas stepped into the elevator, the air between them was charged with unspoken words. Silas leaned casually against the wall, his hands in his pockets, but his eyes studied Mercedes with a perceptiveness that made her uncomfortable.
"So," he began, breaking the silence, "are you actually going to take what we all said to heart? Or are you planning to keep pretending you don't care about my brother?"
Mercedes sighed, crossing her arms. "It's not that simple, Silas. I've got... things going on. I'm not exactly in a place to start something with someone, let alone Sam."
Silas raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "And yet, you clearly care about him. You're not as good at hiding it as you think, Mercedes."
She rolled her eyes. "Why do you care so much anyway?"
"Because my little brother's the best guy I know," Silas said, his tone softening. "And if he's too much of an idiot to see what's right in front of him, then I'm taking my shot."
Mercedes blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
Silas shrugged, his smirk widening. "What can I say? A man would have to be blind not to see how amazing you are. Smart, gorgeous, funny... You're the whole package, Mercedes. If Sam misses his chance, I'd be a fool not to step up."
She couldn't help it—she laughed, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous, Silas."
"Ridiculously honest," he countered, grinning.
The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival. Silas stepped aside, gesturing for her to exit first. Mercedes was still chuckling softly as she stepped out—until her eyes landed on the sight waiting for them.
Her laughter died in her throat.
There, just outside Sam's door, were Sam and Quinn, locked in a kiss.
Silas stopped in his tracks, his face hardening as he took in the scene. "Well, shit," he muttered.
Clearing his throat loudly, Silas drew the attention of the couple. Sam and Quinn broke apart, startled, and turned toward them.
Mercedes didn't wait for an explanation. Her smile was gone, replaced by a carefully neutral expression as she walked past them without a word. She unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside, closing it with a quiet but resolute click.
"Mercedes—" Sam started, stepping forward, but Silas grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
"Don't," Silas said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Quinn gave an awkward laugh, smoothing her hair. "Well, this has been fun, but I should probably get going. Sam, I'll see you later?"
Sam hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Mercedes's door before nodding. "Yeah. I'll see you later, Quinn."
Quinn smiled, leaning in for another quick kiss that Sam didn't fully return before walking down the hallway.
The moment she was gone, Silas turned to Sam, his expression a mix of disbelief and disgust. "You're an idiot."
Sam frowned. "What?"
"You heard me—an idiot. I just spent the entire day helping Mercedes realize she has feelings for you. She was finally gonna tell you how she felt, but after seeing you shoving your tongue down Quinn's throat? Man, you're lucky if she even speaks to you again."
Sam threw up his hands, frustration evident in his voice. "How was I supposed to know that? She kicked me out after we kissed. What was I supposed to think? That she wanted me?"
Silas shook his head, his voice dropping into a scathing tone. "If you liked her—really liked her—you wouldn't have been out here with Quinn. You'd have told her no, and you'd have gone after Mercedes."
Sam ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps. "You don't get it, Silas. I kissed her, and she kissed me back, but then she kicked me out. That says she didn't want me!"
Silas laughed bitterly. "So naturally, you go for the blonde who's only after you because you look like you, instead of actually working to make the perfect woman realize you're worth being with. You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
Sam flinched at the accusation, but Silas moved toward Mercedes's door before he could respond and knocked firmly. "It's me, Merce."
After a moment, the sound of the lock clicking echoed through the quiet hallway. The door didn't open, but it was clear Mercedes had unlocked it.
Silas shot Sam one last look, shaking his head in disappointment. "Asshole," he muttered before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
Sam stared at the now-closed door, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. He didn't know how to fix this, but he was starting to realize he might have already messed up beyond repair.
Inside her apartment, Mercedes moved around with a practiced ease, keeping herself busy to avoid thinking too much. She grabbed a glass of water, went to the counter, opened a pill organizer, and took out her medications.
As she swallowed the pills, she became aware of Silas watching her from the doorway to her kitchen, his brow furrowed.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now, contrasting with his earlier frustration with Sam.
Mercedes glanced at him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, just taking my meds. I've got some work to do, so..." She waved her hand vaguely toward her laptop on the coffee table.
Silas didn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You know that's not what I meant."
She stilled for a moment, then sighed, her hand resting on the counter. "Oh, that? Yeah, it's fine. I knew he liked her anyway, so it is what it is."
The words sounded casual, dismissive even, but the way her shoulders slumped betrayed the weight she was carrying.
Silas closed the space between them without saying anything and hugged her. At first, she stiffened, but then she sighed deeply, leaning into him, her forehead resting against his chest.
"Let's get a blanket," Silas murmured. "Pick a movie you love, and we'll sit and watch it. Maybe it'll help you feel better."
Mercedes hesitated, the walls she'd built around herself struggling to hold. But when she glanced up at Silas, his expression was gentle, his concern genuine. She nodded softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, okay. That sounds nice."
Silas smiled, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. "Good. You grab the blanket; I'll handle snacks. And none of that healthy stuff—you need chocolate."
That earned him a laugh, small but real, and for the first time that evening, Mercedes felt a little less alone.
Sam paced back and forth in his apartment, his mind racing. His phone was pressed to his ear as he waited for the call to connect. The moment he heard Blaine's voice, he launched into the story.
"Blaine, I think I screwed up," Sam admitted, running a hand through his hair.
"What happened now?" Blaine asked, his tone curious but not overly concerned yet.
Sam sighed, leaning against the counter. "So you know I told you that I kissed Mercedes a couple of days ago. She kissed me back, but then she kicked me out. I thought she wasn't into me, so I went out with Quinn. Tonight, I kissed Quinn outside my door, and—"
"You what?" Blaine interrupted, his voice incredulous. "Sam, are you serious right now?"
"Let me finish!" Sam protested. "Silas saw. Mercedes saw. Now Silas is mad at me, Mercedes probably hates me, and I'm sitting here wondering if I was wrong to kiss Quinn."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Blaine sighed. "Sam, I'm saying this as your friend, okay? Hell, yes, you were wrong."
Sam groaned, rubbing his face. "How? Blaine, she kissed me and then kicked me out! What was I supposed to do?"
"You were supposed to give her space, not run to the easy option because she didn't do exactly what you wanted," Blaine said, his voice sharp now. "Mercedes isn't the kind of woman who's going to lay everything out for you on a silver platter. From what you told me, she seems to have been through a lot, and if you can't see that, you don't deserve her."
"That's not fair," Sam muttered, though Blaine's words hit a nerve.
"It's the truth," Blaine shot back. "You like Mercedes, right?"
"Of course I do," Sam admitted, his voice dropping.
"Then act like it," Blaine said firmly. "Quinn is easy, sure, but do you really want easy, or do you want someone who's going to make you better?"
"I can't just hurt Quinn because I screwed up."
"Then I don't know what to tell you."
Sam let his words hang in the air, his chest tightening. After a moment, he sighed, sinking onto his couch. "I need help, man. Silas has completely turned to the girls' side. He's over there right now. I'm losing him to Team Mercedes."
Blaine chuckled, his tone softening. "You're on your own there, buddy. Silas has good taste. But I'll tell you what—I'll come visit. I've got some time off, and it sounds like you need someone in your corner."
"You'd do that?" Sam asked, his voice lightening with hope.
"Of course," Blaine said. "I'll be there in a few days. I'll stay through New Year's, but you better start getting your act together before I show up."
Sam managed a small laugh. "Deal. Thanks, Blaine."
"Don't thank me yet," Blaine said with a smirk in his voice. "You've got work to do. See you soon."
As the call ended, Sam leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Blaine's words echoed in his mind, challenging him in a way no one else had. If he wanted Mercedes, he needed to prove it—not just to her, but to himself.