Title: The World is a Stage 2/?
Pairing: Brittany/Santana, Brittany/OC
Word Count: 2900
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: References to Season 1.
“Britt, babe, where are you?” the blonde stirred from her light slumber. That was not Santana’s voice she was hearing. She opened her eyes, her surroundings becoming clearer, ‘oh right, I’m not eighteen anymore’ she thought and looked down and saw the frame still in her arms. Taking one last look she smiled sadly and placed it in the bottom of her drawer. As she closed it, the bedroom door squeaked open. “Hey there you are. Where’d you get to?”
“I had a headache so I took a nap.” Brittany responded.
“Have you been crying?” Bryan asked. He really was a sweet guy and she did love him, a wave of guilt was brewing in the pit of her stomach. Was it possible to love two people at the same time? She sighed. Bryan sat next to her on the bed and drew her into a hug, placing a gentle kiss on her head. It wasn’t fair on Bryan, Santana was a mega star now and there was no way she would have a chance with the brunette. Brittany snuggled further into Bryan and closed her eyes, trying to shut out all of the thoughts that were plaguing her.
Santana Lopez was sat in her trailer, on the make-shift bed, re-watching her interview with Ellen DeGeneres from earlier that day. It had been a huge opportunity for her to cement her status as one of Hollywood’s newest, hottest talents, and to some extent she exploited that. Receiving praise from the woman herself was priceless and the fact that Ellen was a fan of the show just proved it’s worth. Not to mention Santana’s Emmy nomination. That had come like a bolt out of the blue, it was the last thing she was ever expecting, but then if she had learnt anything in this cut throat business, it was to expect the unexpected and how true that was. For one, she was sitting in a trailer with Rachel Berry practising her scales next door. Who knew she would end up filming a movie with her. Not just any movie either, a musical, it would either make her or break her. But like she had said in the interview, Santana is doing what she loves, everything else is a bonus. Watching the interview for a second time, she cowered once again at her reaction to seeing the high school photograph, or more specifically, seeing herself and Brittany in their heyday when they were so young and happy. She briefly wondered if the blonde had watched the interview, what she thought of Santana’s new found fame, if she thought about her at all. Not one for wanting to dwell on the past, the brunette terminated the dvd and picked up her script and lay back on the bed, she was up for a scene in half an hour and needed to familiarise herself with her lines.
There was a knock at her trailer door, she glanced over in the general direction. Upon realising her ability to see through walls was somewhat diminished, she smiled to herself and called out, “Come in.”
“Berry. Had I known it was you I wouldn’t have been so welcoming.”
“I’m yet to witness any of your so called hospitality Santana.”
“Yeah well, I’m fresh out. What do you want?” Santana asked, annoyance spread across her features.
“I saw your interview today and while I am a little envious, I think you came across very well.”
“Erm, thanks Berry.”
“You’re welcome. Now I know you’re not very fond of me, that was evident all through high school and it would seem you still harbour some of those feelings. Yet we find ourselves in a situation where we are working together in a high pressured environment and I think it would be in everyone’s best interests if we can be seen to be getting along. I for one will be making an extra effort.”
“No, no, no, Berry, no extra effort required on your part, trust me.” Santana responded quickly, she knew that any further endeavour on Rachel’s part would most likely result in violence of some description. “Just you know, stay out of my way and I’ll try to be accommodating.” The Latina offered. Rachel sat and thought for a moment, her eyes wondering over the brunette’s trailer.
“Ok Santana, I realise that’s the best I can expect from you.” Santana frowned at the other girl’s comment, but shrugged it off, she was not in the frame of mind to have this conversation continue. “And once again, may I compliment you for your interview, especially the composure you showed when Ellen produced that high school photograph, seeing you and Brittany together like that was . . .”
“OUT BERRY!” Santana yelled, flinging her finger angrily toward the door.
“But . . .”
“This is me being accommodating, you have officially outstayed your welcome.” The Latina seethed.
“Ok I’m gone, I’m sorry if I offended you.” Rachel said wide eyed and retreating to the door. Santana’s moody brown eyes were burning a hole in Rachel’s sweater, she wouldn’t be satisfied until the other girl was out of sight and she was alone once again.
The shrill of her cell phone distracted her from her script, Santana huffed, this was turning out to be a day of unwanted intrusions, it was doing nothing for her nerves. She picked up the offending object and noticed Quinn’s name on the display, smiling she answered the call.
“Hey, what are you doing up?” Santana asked having glanced at the clock and noticed it was 1.30am.
“I just got home and thought I would see how you’re doing.” Quinn slurred slightly.
“Are you drunk Fabray?” The TV star smirked.
“Noooo, ok, maybe a little.” The blonde laughed. “So, are you ok?”
“I had a Berry run in.”
“It was ok until she opened her big mouth and mentioned the ‘B’ word.”
“I guess she saw the interview huh?”
“Yeah.” Santana sighed.
“Look, San, I love you right? But you need to focus, you’re in this potentially huge movie, you have the opportunity to show the world that not only can you act but you can sing and dance too. Now don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t blow it by dwelling on the past, ok?” there was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, Santana was processing the blonde’s wise words.
“You’re right.” Santana admitted, sitting up straight. “I’m Santana Lopez and I didn’t get this far by being a miserable lovesick fool. The bitch is back Quinn, to hell with it.”
“That’s the Santana I know and love.” Quinn smiled.
“Excellent.” Santana breathed a satisfied sigh. “I’m due on set Q, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Go and kick some Berry ass for me.”
“See you tomorrow San. Bye.”
“Bye.” Santana ended the call. She could always rely on Quinn to give her a positive pep talk, the Latina was now pumped, she was ready to go out there and give a performance of a life time.
The following day Brittany found herself surrounded in photographs, one’s she had held onto since school, it had taken five years to look at them again. Seeing Santana on the talk show yesterday and the photograph that was displayed for the entire world to see had stirred sentimental feelings in the blonde. She had tried so hard to build a life for herself, to make it in the big wide world on her own and she was managing, she coped and she thought she was handling it well. But having the past shoved in her face on a daily basis was slowly making her crumble. There was only one person she had kept in touch with since high school. She picked up her cell phone and dialled the familiar number.
Santana was lazing by the pool at her home, she had endured a gruelling two week schedule of filming and interviews, trying to fit in as much publicity as she could following her Emmy nomination and honouring the contract she had signed for the movie. She remembered the day she had found out she was nominated, she had received a phone call from the CEO of the network and was promptly congratulated, it took a few seconds for her to find out just why she was receiving such high praise from the top man. It was like a dream, everything was so hazy, yet so clear. Santana was in Europe at the time on a vacation break between filming. It had struck her as odd when she picked up her ringing cell phone at such a ridiculous hour, but the wakeup call had been totally worth it. She and Quinn had celebrated in style, private yachts and copious amounts of champagne were of course involved. She regretted it the next day however when it felt like there was a jackhammer at play in her head.
“Wake up Lopez.” Quinn said as she set down a cocktail beside her friend. Santana turned to look at her friend, clad in a halter style yellow bikini. Quinn sat in the lounger beside the brunette.
“You’ll get funny white bits wearing that.” Santana smiled.
“Please, I’m sunblocked to the hilt, no white bits here.” Quinn stated, “Besides, you’re making me feel uncomfortable with your thoughts of my white bits.” Santana laughed, it had been a long standing joke that Santana had feelings for her best friend, even though it was complete nonsense. There had been fleeting speculation across the internet that the two were a couple, Santana often turned up to events either alone or with her best friend, causing speculation about the brunette’s private life. A handful of times she had enlisted the help of an actor friend to be her ‘date’, after all, she had to keep up appearances.
“Dream on Fabray.” Santana said.
“You know my boyfriend quite likes the idea of you and me hooking up.” Quinn smirked.
“Your boyfriend is a pervert.” Santana replied with a smirk.
“You know it’s true.” The Latina responded. “Who thought you would have ended up with Puck anyway.” She shuddered at the thought.
“We have a child together Santana or had you conveniently forgotten that part?”
“What? No, of course I didn’t forget that part, you guys are my family, I rely on you to keep me grounded and you do a great job of that.” She groaned at the last part. “Where is the little munchkin anyway?”
“School, it’s Wednesday and can you please not call her that?”
“Oh right, Wednesday, the days all run into one another.”
“Well you’re not required to think today, it’s a rare day off.”
“Tell me about it.” Santana said. “You know I appreciate everything you do for me.”
“You show that in my wages.” Quinn laughed.
“I mean it, I couldn’t have . . .”
“Don’t finish that sentence Lopez. I know you appreciate it.” Quinn offered. She knew Santana like no one else and it would have taken a great deal of emotion for the brunette to finish that sentence, besides, had the words been spoken, it would have broken another of those private jokes they often shared. Santana picked up the Mojito from beside her a sipped it slowly, appreciating the taste.
“You my friend, make the best Mojitos.”
“I know.” Quinn smiled and began to devour her own.
“Kurt? Hey, I need a favour.” Brittany said, it had been several weeks since she had spoken to her good friend. Kurt now lived in London as an interior designer with his British lawyer boyfriend. Brittany herself had worked extremely hard after high school and attended dance school at the prestigious International Dance Academy in Hollywood. She had become professional and danced for artists such as Beyonce, Usher and was a part of Janet Jackson’s major comeback tour which had catapulted her career somewhat. She was now taking a break from the tour circuit and was a guest teacher at her former dance school.
“Sure, what’s up Britt?” The cheery voice asked from the other end.
“I need Finn’s number.”
“Why do you need Finn’s number?”
“I want to get in touch with Rachel.”
“Rachel Berry?” Kurt said a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Yes.” Brittany responded.
“But why Britt? I don’t think he’ll have her number.” Her friend offered.
“Damn it. How can I talk to Rachel?”
“Britt you need to tell me why this is so important.”
“I can’t do that Kurt.”
“Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“Because I don’t want anyone to tell me this is a bad idea, I can’t get talked out of it this time.” Brittany said with defiance.
“It’s about Santana isn’t it?” the boy sighed.
“I can’t tell you that Kurt.”
“Then I guess all I can say is be careful Britt. I don’t need to remind you how it ended.” No, she didn’t, but that was in the past, she needed to talk to Santana, she needed her back in her life one way or the other.
“Who is this?”
“Rachel,” Brittany sighed, “it’s Brittany.”
“Brittany,” Rachel pondered, her brow furrowed. “from High School Brittany?”
“Brittany who danced with Janet Jackson on her comeback Legend Tour?”
“Yes.” Brittany said sharply, now she remembered why she hadn’t kept in touch with the girl.
“How did you get my number?” The brunette asked suspiciously.
“Long story, it started with Kurt, I kinda lost track after that.” Brittany said, the long lines of communication becoming lost in her complicated mind. “How are you? I see you’re like famous and stuff.” In order for Brittany to get what she wanted, she had to tolerate some small talk and stroke Rachel Berry’s ego somewhat. It was a price she was willing to pay.
“Well thank you, yes, I am exactly where I expected to be. A couple of Tony nominations, several hit Broadway shows and now I’m filming my second motion picture, I couldn’t be happier. How are you Brittany?” Rachel asked, remembering there was indeed another person involved in this conversation.
“I’m good thank you Rachel.”
“Are you touring with anyone right now?”
“No, I’m having a break, but I am looking for a dancing job.” She fibbed.
“Oh well, I’m not sure if I can . . . oh,” Rachel said, realisation dawning, “wait a minute, you know I said I was currently filming my second motion picture?” she barely paused for breath, “Well guess what? It’s a musical, we haven’t really started filming any of the choreography yet, I mean it’s mostly been studio work and storyline based acting. Do you want me to see if I can put in a good word for you?”
“Just get me the name of the choreographer.” Brittany said, “I can do the rest.”
“Oh that’s easy, you remember Mike Chang?” Rachel asked rhetorically, “Well, he’s doing the choreography for the movie.”
“Seriously?” Brittany asked. She had bumped into Mike several times on the circuit and they had always vowed to get together, but unfortunately it had never materialised.
“Do you want his number?” Rachel asked.
“No, thanks, I have his email address.”
“I didn’t think you could . . .”
“I learnt.” Brittany abruptly put an end to Rachel’s query. “Oh and Rachel?” the blonde asked.
“Can you pretend this conversation never happened?” she requested.
“Sure but . . .”
The blonde sighed, placing the handset beside her. She picked up a photograph of the Glee club and lowered herself so she was laying on the floor, her knees raised, tracing the photograph with her fingertips. Today had been in it’s own way a trip down memory lane, a sort of series of one to one reunions if you like. Brittany had been a likeable character at school and people always had a hard time saying no to her, so when she called up out of the blue after all these years, they were curious and somewhat eager to please, hearing the friendly, sweet tone in her voice was always welcoming.
“Well that was easy.” She muttered to herself. “Now for the hard part.” The blonde sat up and gathered the photographs together, replacing them carefully in the box. Standing, she breezed into the sitting room, picked up the laptop and sat at the dining table. “Ok, this can’t be so hard.” She murmured. Flipping open the lid she smiled in triumph. She pressed the button beneath the screen and watched as the laptop came to life. “Oh right.” She sang, fist pumping into the air. The rest would be piece of cake.
To be continued . . .