A/N: Hello beautiful people! I'm still working on "Just Me, My Dignity". I have an idea, so I'm going with it.
Story inspired by the song: "My Boo" by Usher Ft. Alicia Keys
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or "My Boo"… Ryan Murphy & Co and Usher et al own them respectively.
Santana. That's who the world new her as; the intense and passionate music icon. She is one of the music staples of her generation. Everywhere she went there were literally hundreds of people fighting for her attention; women particularly. She is one of the few popular openly lesbian artists.
Santana walked into one of New York's exclusive night clubs with her bodyguards and a her friends Angela and Chris. Everyone knows who she is. She's just looking to have a few drinks, chill, and maybe get laid. Though she's open she really has to be careful because one of her last conquests leaked a picture of the two of them in a compromising position to E! News. She greets a few of the bouncers and kisses a few ladies on the cheek as she heads to the VIP section.
"Hey San" a gorgeous red head greets her. This woman is flawless. Long flowing locks, porcelain skin, and honey eyes. If she were in the mood for red there would be no problem. Tonight she has her eyes set on someone blonde, maybe vintage. Quite frankly she's tired of tequila shots and red headed sluts. She wants a nice, chilled Pinot Grigio.
"Hey Veronica. How are you?"
"Well thanks."
"Good to hear."
"You know, my offer still stands."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
Veronica moves closer to Santana. Gene her bodyguard moves forward. She holds her had up and gets her drift. Angela and Chris also take the hint, they head to the VIP room.
"You do that. In the meantime" Veronica says as she slips out of her thongs and pulls Santana into her by her belt loops and puts her underwear in her front pocket. She then puts her index finger up to Santana's nose, trails it down her lips, to her chin and pulls her in for a kiss. But instead of a kiss Veronica licks her upper lip.
Santana is both disturbed and turned on by this action. She had considered giving Veronica another go, but the last two years she had already driven that Boxster three times too many. Yes, she's a fan of the classics, she just wants something automatic. A smooth ride.
"Ich will sitzen auf ihr Gesicht und ejakulat in den mund" Veronica says in perfect German. Santana doesn't understand most of what Veronica says, but she is sure she heard ejaculate somewhere in there.
"Right. Well, I'll see you later V" Santana smiles and continues to her secluded room of the VIP section.
"What's up San?"
"Hey Nate."
"What will it be tonight?"
"Blondes only."
Santana's sitting on the couch when she hears a familiar voice.
"You know, you really shouldn't be so free with all of these groupies."
Santana smiles at the gorgeous blonde. "You know Q, there's only one me and I'd really be doing the world a disservice if I didn't contribute to globalization."
Quinn waves at Gene, Angela and Chris. "Ah, so your plan is to spread your culture around the world?"
"No. My music takes care of that. I'm more interested in short-term investments and trades."
"I see, the ebb and flow of Santana Lopez's shoddy economics."
"Very funny Tubbers. I'll have you know I almost considered taking the Porsche out for another spin."
"If you think a gas guzzling, high maintenance, flashy piece of aluminum is worth taking for another a spin, by all means." Santana laughs "If memory serves me correctly, each time you've taken her out for a spin she has crashed and it cost more than a few thousand dollars to fix the fender."
"Whatever." Santana rolls her eyes at Quinn's nearly accurate analogy.
"Anyway. What is the president of the U.N. in the mood for tonight?"
"Beyonce"
"Even with your status you have no chance in the next 15 lifetimes with Mrs. Sean Carter."
"A girl can dream."
Quinn rolls her eyes. A beautiful younger waitress named Kristen walks over and asks for their order. Santana orders a Cointreau Teese; Quinn orders a pomegranate martini.
"Sounds like you're more in the mood for burlesque" Quinn says as she winks at Santana
A few hours later after a couple of bottles of Moet, a few promises of intense sexual fulfillment, a marriage proposal and another pair of underwear—which she gave to Nate—Santana decided that the sea of beautiful blondes in the room were just not doing it for her, so she called it a night at this particular club.
Santana looks over at Quinn talking to a very statuesque brunette. Though Quinn was giving the woman a little more attention than necessary she knew it wouldn't go beyond a conversation.
"Hey Q, you ready?" Quinn nods in Santana's direction.
Quinn walks over to Santana and looks down at her watch. "Damn San, it's getting late. I really should head home."
"Come on Q, this is the first free night I'll have for the next few weeks."
"I wish I could, but I should really get home to Britt. You know she's only home for a few days and I would love to spend as much time as I can with my fiancé before she leaves for the next month."
"Shit Q. I totes forgot. I'm sorry. Maybe you should head home to the wifey."
"Will you be alright?"
"Yeah. We're probably going to hit up Clear."
"San, maybe you should go home and relax."
"Q please, I'm 25 and it's still early. Besides it's pretty dry in here. There's another spot I'm going to check out."
"As your lawyer I would advise you to go home and take a night off"
"How about as my best friend you high five me and pay for these drinks" Quinn glares at Santana
"What? I pay you enough."
"San you know the drinks are on the house."
"Oh. Well, leave the waitress a nice tip and then you can go home to the wifey."
"Thanks for giving me permission to leave, your highness"
"Whatever bitch, I'll call you tomorrow."
Quinn leaves a $200 tip on the table and hugs Santana goodbye.
"Franks out back." Gene says
"Cool. Give me a sec." Santana says as she walks over to Kristen.
Gene nods.
"Kristen." Santana signals the girl over.
"Is there anything else I can get you?"
"No thanks." Santana smiles "What are you in school for again?"
Kristen is nervous. Santana can tell. "Political Science. Hopefully law school" she says.
"Right."
"You see those girls over there?" Santana points to the girls who are all over Angela and Chris. Kristen nods.
"Don't be like them. Don't be someone's stay at home trophy wife or a gold digging groupie. Stay in school. It's hard work, but believe me when I say the easy way isn't the best way; it'll pay off."
Kristen nods and smiles. As she walks away Santana adds $300 to Quinn's tip. What? Santana Lopez knows the good girls when she sees them. There are few when it comes to her, but they exist.
Santana walks out the back entrance into the cool night air with Gene in front and Angela and Chris in tow. Frank's opens the sedan's door.
"Where to next?" Angela asks clearly a little tipsy
"You guys call your drivers or take a cab. I'm gonna head home."
"Boo."
Santana chuckles. "Chill out. I'll see you guys next week at Amber's party."
"Ugh. Fine." Santana and Angela fist pump. Chris nods.
Santana gets in the back of the sedan. After a few seconds Frank is in the driver's seat. "Home, Ms. Lopez?"
"Frank…"
"Sorry ma'am. Home, San?"
"Sure." Santana sighs. She's much more exhausted than she thought. Fucking Q for always being right.
On the ride home from Chelsea there was an accident, so Frank took a detour through the Theater District. She avoids Broadway. But tonight for some reason she's attracted to the bright lights. Maybe she's more tipsy than she thought. Santana looks out of the window at Broadway. The billboards are so bright. There's one of her for CoverGirl over in Times Square. She never thought the day would come when that would happen. Sometimes she gets a little ahead of herself. Sometimes she needs a reality check. That's what Quinn's for. When she was in Lima, she was a closeted bitchy cheerleader who people feared because she didn't take anybody's shit. Now she's revered and feared because she's a famous bitch.
One of the billboards flickers and transitions to a new advertisement. It read: Wicked starring Rachel Berry. Santana froze. She put up her window, leaned back into the head rest and closed her eyes. What seemed like a minute later she hears Frank's voice. She jolted at the sound of her name.
"We're here San."
"Thanks Frank. I guess I was more exhausted then I thought."
Frank was quiet. He quickly got out of the driver's seat to open the door for Santana. He walks her into the lobby of her building. Gabe, the night security guard, calls for the elevator to take Santana to her penthouse.
When Santana gets to her place she walks straight to the living room. She makes no attempt to walk to her bed room. She sits on the couch and takes off her shoes. She lies on the couch. Within minutes she's sleeping, alone.
**A Boxster is similar to a Porsche
**"Ich will sitzen auf ihr Gesicht und ejakulat in den mund" translates: "I want to sit on your face and cum in your mouth"
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