Title: The World is a Stage 1/?
Pairing: Brittany/Santana, Brittany/OC
Word Count: 2400
Disclaimer: Glee is copyrighted and belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Use of other personalities is not a reflection of their real lives and is completely fictional.
Summary: Sort of AU/Future fic, the lives of Santana and Brittany in their early twenties.
Spoilers: Ever so slight references to Season 1.
She had sneaked a peek and was astounded at the strength of the lights, she squinted at the brightness and felt herself glow with warmth. Having rushed around and preparing herself for the moment, her body temperature had considerably risen. The brunette had spent a serene fifteen minutes reacclimatising and calming herself before the big moment. But of course her life was full of big moments, this was her life now, a far cry from Cheerios and New Directions at William McKinley High School, Santana Lopez was a star and she was going global. She heard a rapturous applause, cheers and whistles and it was the gentle shove in her back that made her realise she had been announced. She turned and scowled, no one touched Santana Lopez, she was met with an encouraging nod by the scruffy guy in a headset, realising now was the time to move her feet forward. Composing herself, she took a deep breath, smoothed out her dress and stepped out onto the stage, the studio lights hitting her in the face, the heat consuming her like stepping out of an air-conditioned building and into a hot summer’s day. The trademark beaming smile graced her features, ensuring she looked like she was happy to be there, though underneath the nerves always reigned. But it was about appearances and Santana Lopez was always seen as confident and unnerving. The Latina continued to stride forward, walking straight into the arms of her host. Following a polite greeting, they parted and she sat, crossing her legs and placing her hands daintily in her lap.
“Wow, you look great, I love your dress.”
“Thank you Ellen.” Yes, it was hard for Santana to believe that she was sat in front of one of the greatest talk show hosts in the States, no, the world. She smirked a little at the thought that here she was, the height of popularity, something she had strived for all her life.
“So Santana, first let me congratulate you on your deserved Emmy nomination,” the audience applauded as Santana smiled shyly, “and secondly a fantastic second season of The Precinct, did you think it would be such a hit?”
The brunette shifted in her seat a little, absorbing the question and carefully formulating the words. “You know, the writing is so great on this show and we have a wonderful cast and I think it’s portrayed on the screen. We have so much fun filming it, yet the stories are very real and I think that appeals to the audience. It’s not your average cop show, it’s not so hard hitting that you’re left feeling a little deflated, we aim to bring an air of comic relief to it also.”
“Portia and I watch this show, it’s one of our favourites and I think it works very well, and you’re right, you have such a talented cast and the stories you see range from serious to borderline ridiculous.”
“I know right, it’s a great variety.”
“I think we can see Santana in action.” Ellen DeGeneres turned in her seat to watch the preview clip. Santana watched tentatively as her face appeared on the screen, wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and a leather jacket, gun and badge attached to her hip, she was chasing a perp. She remembered this scene, there it was, sliding over the hood of a car. That had been the fifth take, several times the force of throwing herself across the hood had resulted in a less than graceful landing on the hard concrete. She winced at the memory. Santana’s character continued to run, gaining ground, she finally threw herself at the perp when she was close enough, landing on the ground with a thump. Thankfully, soft mats had been laid down for that landing. She shuddered as she remembered the other actor copping a feel whilst in a tangle on the ground. The thump in the arm Santana had executed was real and the director decided her ‘ad-libbing’ was realistic enough not to cut. The scene faded to black and the audience applauded, the Latina couldn’t help the smile that appeared.
“There’s a lot of running involved, is that all you?”
Santana laughed, “Yeah, I have to keep up with my fitness, for some reason they have me chasing down perps a lot.”
“I noticed you cringe a little there, do you not like watching yourself on screen? I know some actors don’t.”
“I was remembering the takes before that one, I must have landed on my butt about four times.”
The audience ruptured into laughter and applause.
“I hear you’re in a new movie, have you started filming yet?”
“Yeah, we’ve just started to film.”
“It’s a musical?”
“Yesss.” Santana replies coyly.
“That’s quite different to what you’ve done before, I didn’t know you could sing.”
“Yeah, I have some hidden talents.” She laughs.
“Now, Rachel Berry is in this movie . . .”
“Yes.” Santana says through gritted teeth and fake smile. She wondered where this line of questioning would go.
“Coincidentally, you went to high school with Rachel. How did you end up in the same movie?”
“I have no idea, the luck of the drawer I guess.” Not willing to elaborate much further.
“I have a picture . . .” Ellen smiled, once again turning to the screen. Santana was cringing on the inside. The audience were whooping and whistling as the image appeared on the screen. It was a shot of one of their Glee practices, she couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but it captured the group exactly how she remembered them, everyone paired off and laughing hysterically at Mr Schuester at the front of the group.
“Oh my gosh, where did you get this?” she laughed.
“Your mother.” Ellen smiled, “She’s so proud. Can you explain this picture?” the blonde asked.
“Sure, well, it’s Glee Club.”
“You were in Glee Club? Not only do you have hidden talents you have skeletons in your closet.”
Santana blushed, there was a deeper meaning to that statement, even if it was only her that understood. “Yes, I was in Glee Club and you know what? I loved it.”
“But you’re wearing a cheerleader uniform.” Santana’s eyes hovered over the image.
“Yeah I was in the Cheerios. We won a few championships.”
“Who’s that there?” Ellen pointed at the blonde smiling adoringly and holding hands with an hysterically laughing Santana in the picture. The brunette’s smile faltered for a moment, recognising the girl.
“That’s my, that’s Brittany. She was my best friend.” She said almost solemnly.
“What were you like in high school? Were you a typical cheerleader?”” Ellen asked, sensing the desire to move on.
Santana laughed nervously and shifted again, “Yes and no, yes because ok, I was popular and I had to maintain that, high school was tough and I had a major pain in the butt for a cheerleading coach.” Ellen laughed.
“And no because . . .”
“Because,” ‘of Brittany’ she wanted to say but couldn’t, “hello I was in Glee!” she laughed.
“Is that when you realised you wanted to be an actress?”
“I’d pretty much acted my way through high school, it was both the best and the worst time of my life, you know? I think it’s the same for most people. But I had always performed, whether it was singing, dancing or cheerleading. I decided to take it a step further when I went to college and knew for sure acting is what I wanted to do.”
“And you got your lucky break?”
“Yeah, I’d finished College in New York and decided to move to LA where I managed to get a few bit parts, then I had an audition for The Precinct and here I am.”
“Here you are indeed, Maxim Hot 100, a number of nominations including an Emmy nomination under your belt, you’ve certainly made an impact.”
“Thank you, but I do what I do because I love it and anything else is a bonus.”
“Modest too. Well, good luck with the movie and season three of The Precinct,” Ellen then turned her attention to the audience, “everyone, Santana Lopez. You guys don’t go anywhere, we’ll be back after the break with this . . .” The music came over the PA and the camera zoomed out indicating the commercial break. Ellen turned to Santana who was still seated, her mind a complete blank from the previous few minutes of interview.
“You were great.” Ellen said earnestly.
“Sure, they love you, everyone loves you, you’ve become such a huge star.”
“You think so?” Santana asked somewhat bewildered.
“Did you see the hundreds of fans outside?”
“Well, yeah but . . .”
“Keep doing what you’re doing Santana, but make sure you have an anchor, someone to keep your feet firmly on the ground.”
“Thank you Ellen and thanks for having me on your show, I feel honoured.”
“Miss Lopez, we need you to exit the stage.” The guy who had been the cause of disgruntlement earlier was in front her, urging her to leave the set. She stared at him, providing him with the trademark Santana Lopez glare. He tried again, “I’m sorry Miss Lopez . . .”
“I know.” She barked, “I heard you the first time.” She waited for him to retreat before standing. Once again she thanked Ellen shaking her hand with a genuine smile, Ellen DeGeneres was one of the women she admired most in the world, and meeting her was like a dream come true.
Sitting in her dressing room in front of the mirror, wearing just a tank top and shorts having stripped off her designer dress, heeled shoes and fancy lingerie, she stared at herself. Gone was the make up, the fancy clothes, her dark hair hung loosely over her shoulders, it was Santana Lopez the human being, not Santana Lopez the Hollywood star. A small knock came from the door, she blinked and turned her head slightly.
“San, it’s me.” The voice called from the other side.
“Come in.” She said, turning her head back to the mirror. She could see the door open then close in the reflection of the mirror.
“What are you doing?”
“Just removing my makeup. I feel so fake some times.” She smiled sadly.
“Are you ok? I saw how you reacted when she asked about Brittany.” Santana sighed heavily at the mention of the girl’s name.
“I’m fine, Quinn, you don’t have to worry, I just wasn’t expecting it I guess.”
“It’s been five years . . .”
“I know ok?” Santana snapped. Quinn’s eyes narrowed, “I’m sorry.” She muttered by way of apology. “Have you heard from her or anyone?”
“Other than a hyperactive Rachel Berry on set? No.” Quinn smiled.
“I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.” Santana sighed.
“A hyperactive Rachel Berry does not a good thing make.” Quinn offered her friend. Santana laughed heartily. Seldom did the actress laugh, but on occasion Quinn Fabray could delve beneath the surface and reveal the real Santana Lopez. The blonde laughed with her friend, reminiscent of their days in the Cheerios. “As much as I love Berry bashing, you have to get dressed, you have a night shoot remember?” Santana groaned. “But tomorrow is a day off.”
“I knew there was a reason I hired you as my PA.” The brunette smiled, organisation was never her forte.
“Admit it Lopez, you are nothing without me!” Quinn grinned.
“Never.” Santana laughed.
“That Santana Lopez is so hot.”
“Santana Lopez, she’s like smoking hot.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s very pretty.”
“What’s up Britt?”
“Huh? Nothing, nothing’s up.” Brittany picked up her soda taking a slurp, watching the Latina actress on her television set. An arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. The blonde forced her eyes closed. Seeing Santana on the television, on billboards and in magazines every single day was beginning to take its toll on the former Cheerleader.
“Oh my god!” came the loud voice from beside her. Brittany’s eyes opened and were suddenly glued to the television. There she was, hand gripping Santana’s in their Cheerio uniforms in the rehearsal room of Glee Club. “You went to school with Santana Lopez? You were her best friend. That is so hot, you should call her.” The tall, dark haired guy beside her was obviously beyond excited that Brittany had known Santana. She took his hand and removed his arm from around her waist, suddenly feeling suffocated. The blonde shifted and stood up, unable to cope with seeing Santana and having the guy she was now with salivating over Santana and pawing over Brittany. “Hey, where are you going?”
“To the bathroom.”
“But you’re missing your friend.”
It was true, the more Brittany saw Santana’s picture, the more she missed her and wished she was back in her life. It had been five long years.
“Leave it Bryan. I just need to go to the bathroom.” The blonde steeled away and into the bedroom, she walked quietly over to her bedside table. Sitting on her side of the bed, she opened the draw and rummaged around before pulling from it a small wooden frame. Inside was a photograph of herself and Santana on Brittany’s 18th birthday, it was a milestone, a very special celebration and Santana had organised a surprise party. The photograph had been snapped after Brittany had hurled herself at the other girl, as they pulled apart, the blonde lunged in once again, this time planting a kiss upon the brunette’s lips. The moment captured was immediately afterwards, the two girls looking intently at one another, smiles plastered across their faces. Brittany traced a finger over her tingling lips, she could still feel Santana’s soft lips upon her own, even after all these years. As a solitary tear made it’s way down her porcelain features, she hugged the picture close to her chest and lay down on her side. Brittany closed her eyes, thoughts and images of Santana flashed through her mind.
To be continued . . .