Break Each Others Hearts Again

A/N: This idea wouldn't leave me alone.

She was supposed to be a star.

She was supposed to move to New York, and do something big. She didn't know what. But it had to be big. After all, she was Santana Lopez, and she wouldn't settle for anything less.

But, she did.

After graduation, she moved the first chance she could. Her parents wanted to throw her out after they had caught her making out with Brittany. She figured there was no denying their accusations. So she told them. Because the only straight she is, is straight up. Bitch.

So when Kurt and Blaine had announced they were moving to New York, Santana had desperately wanted to tag along. It wasn't until three days before Kurt was to leave, did she pluck up the courage to ask him if there was any space in their apartment.

"You...want to move to New York...with us?" Kurt asked, disbelieving.

Blaine smiled eagerly.

"Well...yeah, I mean, I'll get a job or whatever, pay my way. I've got some money saved up already. I can't be here anymore, you know?" Santana admitted. There was no way that she was going to drop to her knees and beg, but if she really had to, she was contemplating it.

"But...with us?" Kurt pressed.

"Why not? I mean, we're gay. She's gay. It'll be a giant New York Gayfest." Blaine suggested, much to Santana's disapproval.

"Exactly...So, does it sound like a plan?" Santana pushed the idea, eagerly hoping for a yes.

Kurt took a moment to consider the idea, shaking his head, "Sure. Why not!"

Taking all three of them by surprise, Santana wrapped her arms around Kurt's tiny frame, almost crushing him. His eyes bulged, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Santana pulled back, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." she smiled, the most genuine smile Kurt had ever seen. And that's when he knew that maybe this wasn't a bad idea after all. Maybe now he would get to see a side of Santana he'd never seen before.

…

She landed a job at a clothing store, they first year they moved. She knew that it was purely based on her looks, because she had no experience whatsoever. And she was completely fine with that. Because it was a job. And she knew just how to work it.

She worked there for at least a year or so, before the place closed down.

Blaine had managed to score her job as a courier through a friend of his. She stayed there for a half year or so, before landing a job as a back up singer.

It wasn't the lead. But that was okay for Santana, because she was no longer in Lima anymore. So back up in New York, was just as good as lead in Lima.

She had high hopes for the band she'd joined. It could have been her big break. But disputes and disagreements led to the group falling out. Whilst also leading to Santana dishing out a black eye or two. After all she was still a Lopez from Lima Heights Adjacent.

Six years on since she moved to New York, she'd pictured herself being on stage somewhere. Whether it was back up, or lead, she didn't care. She imagined she'd be living on her own. Doing her own thing. Living for herself. Living her dream.

However, only one of those two thoughts had come true. She was living by herself.

Kurt and Blaine had decided to get a place of their own. They didn't live far, which was enough for Santana. Surprisingly, her and Kurt had become best of friends out of all of this. Santana had found respect for Kurt, and Blaine. To them, they were like her new found family.

…

The buzzer of her apartment door, broke Santana from her sleep. She moaned, rolling over, hoping that whoever it was, would just fuck right off because it was too damn early for anyone to be ringing her apartment buzzer.

"I know you're in there! So open up. I have coffee, and bagels." Kurt's voice sounded through the intercom.

She contemplated ignoring him again, but the thought of coffee was enough to drag her ass out of bed. Especially the expensive stuff that Kurt always purchased.

She clicked the button, allowing him access. Not bothering to speak, because her throat was as dry as the Sahara, from last nights events.

Her apartment door swung open, revealing a much too cheery looking Kurt. "Well, well don't you look lovely?"

Santana rubbed the soft spot of her temple, wishing like hell that she hadn't drunk as much as she did last night. But it was Blaine's twenty fourth birthday. And Kurt wouldn't take no for an answer, when Santana had decided not to drink.

"Where's my coffee?" She grunted, running her hands through her dark locks.

"Keep your vagina on. Here you go, as promised." Kurt slid the cup over, tossing a bagel after it.

"What's with the smile?"

Kurt pulled his, 'I don't know what you're talking about', face. "Cut the crap Hummel."

"Well, if you must know. I think Blaine's sister likes you."

"And what makes you think she even plays for the other team?"

"Uh, because she's related to Blaine?" Kurt spelled out.

Choking on her coffee, with her bagel in hand, Santana couldn't help but burst with laughter. "And that makes her gay?"

Kurt shook his head, "Their whole family is gay. I swear his parent's are just beards. I bet his Mom's into you. Mmm, cougar?" he suggested.

Santana rolled her eyes with disgust, pulling herself off of her stool, "That is just. Disgusting. It is way too early to be talking about this. And I need to get rid of this hangover before my shift." She trailed to her couch, flicking on the television, pulling a comforter over her body.

"I hate to say it San, but aren't you, lonely?" Kurt knew that Santana had been avoiding this conversation.

"I'm fine on my own."

"Yeah but, what about the nights when you just wished you had a warm body against you. Or waking up to morning kisses. Or just having someone around."

"I have people around. I just don't let them stay the night." She shrugged, flicking aimlessly through the channels.

"When are you going to get tired of that?"

"Never."

"Come on San. I know you better than that. I see the way you look at Blaine and I. I know you want your happy ending."

"Where is this all coming from? Like I said, I'm fine on my own. Been doing it for God knows how long."

"I just, I want to see you happy."

"Aww, thanks." She mocked, holding her hand to her chest, "But you don't have to worry about me Lady Lips. I handles my own."

"Well someone has to worry about you, Miss big and bad. Any who, I have people to see and places to be. Hope your hangover wears off, you know you really shouldn't have had that many shots."

If looks could kill, Kurt Hummel would ba a pile of ashes. "Don't you fucking start."

"You still love me." He sang as he escaped the wrath of his best friend.

…

Santana was thankful that she had the morning to recover from Blaine's birthday. She quickly checked herself in the mirror, flattening out her uniform, a black polo shirt, with matching shorts, that clung to just above her knees. Pulled on her black boots, and snatched her apron before rushing out to the bustling streets.

The diner she waitresses at was only a couple blocks away, so she saved money walking to and from work.

She hadn't planned on becoming a waitress, but times were tough, and she had to take whatever she could. Her reputation as HBIC had long gone. But that wasn't to say that she automatically bowed down. She was Santana fucking Lopez.

The job was okay. There was at least two of her co-workers she could actually stand. Jason, the chef, and Cali, another waitress. The rest were complete idiots to Santana. Most of them being students, who only took the job for extra spending money. Where as Santana worked her ass off, because it was her only income,and she needed to pay bills somehow.

"You're late." Cali called, as Santana entered, wrapping her apron around her waist, tying her hair up in a bun.

"By a minute." Santana shot back, clocking in.

"Still late." Cali called, over looking receipts. Cali was the same age as Santana. Born and raised in New York. Half Caucasian, half African American. Santana liked her, because like Santana, Cali didn't take any shit from anyone.

"Bite me."

"Gladly." Jason called from the kitchen.

"For the last time, she's not on your team." Cali rolled her eyes, calling back.

"That's too bad." Jason smiled, leaning through the window to hand Santana her first order to deliver. "Afternoon gorgeous." Santana couldn't help the ridiculous smile on her lips. She loved Jason, like a brother of course. And his harmless attempts at flirting didn't phase her, because he knew damn well that he wasn't her type. Maybe the old Santana would have given him a rumble in the sheets. But this was the new improved, out and proud, New York Santana.

"Table four." he announced, sending the Latina on her way.

…

Four o'clock. Santana checked the clock, slumping into a stool in front of Cali. "Hows the head?"

"Pounding like a fucking drum." Cali chuckled at the Latina's tired state.

"That will teach you to go out a night before work."

Santana resented the statement. "I go out all the time. But this hangover is killing me."

"Did you get any last night?" Cali asked, straight up. This was what Santana like about Cali. She was straight to the point. No beating around the bush. And she didn't have a problem with Santana's sexuality. In fact, Santana swore she caught Cali checking her out in the first few days that she started.

"No." Santana moaned. "They were all too, easy..." Santana confessed, causing Cali to erupt with laughter.

"Since when did you not like easy girls? Maybe you're sick?" She laughed, sliding Santana a glass of water, in which the Latina gladly accepted.

"Shut it. I just, feel like chasing for once. I think?"

"So I can no longer call you one-night-stand-Santana?" Cali grinned. Before Santana could fight back, Cali nodded towards a table.

Santana turned curiously, eyes landing on a little girl with Sandy blonde hair. "Seems a bit young to be out by herself?" Santana suggested, sipping on her drink.

"Honey, this is New York. You're never too young to be lonely." Cali left her pondering the thought, before Santana decided to see if the girl wanted to make an order.

"Hey there, can I get you anything?" The Latina asked, bending down to catch the little girl looking through a book. Charlie and the chocolate factory. She smiled at the girls taste.

"I'm okay." The girl replied, lifting her hazel eyes to catch Santana's brown pools. A perplexed look crossed the Latinas face. A serious case of Deja Vu, hovered over her like a thick cloud.

After a minute of confusion, she snapped out of it, looking back down at the girl, "You sure?"

"Mhmm." The girl nodded, "I have no money. I'm just waiting for my Mommy to finish rehearsal." The girl replied.

"Right." Santana nodded, heading back up to the counter. "One chocolate milkshake." Cali gave her an incredulous look. "Just, take it out of my pay or whatever. She has no money. And she can't just sit there with nothing. As a matter of fact, throw in some fries."

Cali stood, frowning. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Santana Lopez?"

Santana rolled her eyes, "Just make it."

…

She didn't know why she was being so generous to this little girl. There was just something about her, that had Santana, almost worried about her. And for some reason she cared. Maybe it was the lonely look in the little girls eyes. Or the way she was so polite for someone her age. She could only be around eight, so Santana thought.

She made her way to the table, where the little girl still sat, reading her book. She placed down the fries, and shake, much to the little girls surprise. "On the house kid." Santana smiled.

She wouldn't have imagined, that one little smile would be enough of a reward for her. But seeing those little eyes light up, had Santana beaming. "Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yeah, why not. Can't have you taking up table space with nothing. Don't sweat it." Santana nodded pleasingly.

"How did you know I liked chocolate?" The little girl asked.

"I'm pretty smart." Santana winked. Leaving the little girl to it.

…

Santana was ready to finish up her shift at five to eight. She threw on her jacket, putting her apron into her bag, and headed for the door, when she noticed that the little girl was still at the table. It had been at least four hours now that she had been sitting there.

"Hey kid. What are you still doing here?" She asked, bending down to catch the girl at eye level.

"My Mommy's still at rehearsal. She said I had to wait here until she was finished." Santana's heart sank a little at the sadness in the girls voice.

"You know when she finishes?" The brunette asked.

"No." The girl replied.

"Well, do you know where her rehearsal is?" Santana asked. There was no way she could leave this little girl here on her own.

"At the Redhouse." The girl replied. Santana frowned. Wasn't the Red House practically like a strip bar? Okay, not a strip bar, but it was a little racier than other show bars.

"How about I take you to your Mommy? You can't stay here on your own." Santana suggested. The little girl nodded in agreement, standing up to follow Santana.

…

Santana kept a close eye on the girl out of the corner of her eye, as they walked through the streets of Brooklyn. Red House had to be only a block away, so Santana wasn't too fussed on going out of her way to take this kid to her mother.

The stopped at the side entrance, knocking once. The door opened, and Santana pulled the little girl in with her.

"Excuse me Miss, but you can't be in here." The security guard told her.

"Well then why did you open the door? Listen, I'm just hear to drop this kid off to her mother, got it?" The security guard looked down at the little girl, whom was now holding Santana's hand, then back at the feisty Latina.

"Whose your mother kid?" The burly man asked. Santana, who was yet to know the answer, also looked down at the girl.

"Q." She replied.

Santana cocked her head to the side, questioning the letter. But thought nothing of it. She returned her eyes back to the security guard with a challenging glare.

"She's in there." He answered, pointing the way.

"Thank you." Santana smiled smugly, walking through the back of the club. Walking past a few girls of whom she guesed to be dancers, dressed in next to nothing. Catching a few eager eyes, she smiled to herself. Even in my stupid uniform, I'm still hot.

She rounded the door of the hallway, stopping dead in her tracks at what her eyes caught sight of. On stage, under the bright lights, stood her past. That blonde hair was even longer than she remebered. Those full lips looked as sexual as ever as she sang. And Santana was ready to run.

"There's my Mom." The girl pointed up to the stage. Santana's wide eyes fell down to the little girl, then back up to the stage.

No way. No fucking way.

Santana couldn't believe what was going on. This girl. This little girl, was the daughter of her high school best friend. She had seen this little girl as a baby. No fucking way.

"W-what?" The only words that she could choke out.

"Mommy!" The little girl yelled, running towards the stage.

Santana watched as Quinn Fabray held her hand up over her eyes to see through the bright lights. She quickly dipped into the shadows, out of sight.

"Beth? What are you doing here? I told you to wait for me at that Diner." Hearing her voice again sent Santana into a whirlwind of memories she'd much rather forget.

'This can't be happening." She whispered to herself.

"I did. But the waitress said I had to leave. So she walked me here." Beth told her mother.

"Well where is she now?" Quinn asked. Santana's eyes flared open. She had to leave. Had to leave now before she could be seen.

"Quinn. Darling, what is this?" A males voice rang out.

"Sorry. This is my daughter. Beth, darling, take a seat, and stay put whilst I finish up okay?" Santana heard Quinn apologize. She rolled her eyes at the weakness in Quinn's voice.

"Yes Mommy." She heard Beth reply, with sadness.

It was all too much for Santana. So she fled the club, striding towards her apartment as fast as she could. Opening her apartment door, she threw her belongings to the floor. Reaching into the cupboard for a glass, and poured herself a glass of red.

Quinn Fabray was in town. With her daughter.

"Holy shit." she breathed.

Thoughts?