Santana felt like her world was crashing down around her.

Peering down at her phone for the eighth time in the last five minutes, Santana felt her heart sink even lower when she saw Brittney still hasn't called or even texted. Still hasn't coming rushing after her to admit she made a mistake.

Santana fell back against her gym locker, sliding down to the floor, and curling in her knees. She just wanted to sit on this disgusting floor that was covered in germs, water and old sticky hair product, and cry herself to relief.

The sound of shoes echoing off the floor wouldn't allow that. Santana considered standing up and making herself presentable for this visitor, but she didn't see the point.

What if it was Brittney?

Santana looked up with hopeful eyes, but her spirits fell when she saw Sebastian Smythe, the Warbler, standing before her.

"What are you doing here?" Santana asked, trying to keep her usual amount of venom in her voice, but gave up when her voice cracked.

"What, can't I help a friend out?" Sebastian raised his eyebrow.

"One, you can't be in here, this is a girl's locker room?." Santana raised her brow back, mimicking him. "Two, we aren't friends, and three, you don't even go to school here."

Sebastian leaned against a nearby locker, his air of over-confidence never leaving him. "Well, you like girls and they let you in here. I prefer cock myself. Not that I turn down quality sex when it's offered, even when it's with a woman." He grinned as Santana rolled her eyes.

"But seriously," he continued. "I thought we were friends. And friends help friends out."

"We had one duet." Santana replied. "And that still doesn't explain why you are here."

"I was just dropping by." Sebastian shrugged carelessly.

"To spy on Blaine and torment Kurt?" Santana asked, her sting returning to her voice.

Sebastian's smile drooped a little. "No progress there. I'm over that chase." His smile returned. "I'm here to see you actually."

"Me?" Doubt crept into Santana's voice.

"Yeah. I heard what happened between you and Brittney. I'm sorry."

"Oh." Santana's stomach turned sour again after being reminded what happened. "Yeah. Whatever."

"Blonde bitch doesn't know what she's missing."

"Don't talk about her like that." Santana snapped.

Sebastian raised his hands in surrender. "Just saying what's true."

Santana shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want to talk about it."

She really didn't. She didn't even want to think about how the most beautiful, innocent, pure-hearted girl, the only person she had ever loved, had simply walked away from her.

She didn't want to think how Brittney had simply walked away from her and into the arms of some idiot Warbler.

"It was one of your asshole friends that took her from me anyway." Santana sniffed.

"Bradley isn't one of my friends," Sebastian chuckled. "A fuck buddy, maybe. But certainly not a friend." He smiled at her, but she just held back a sob and turned her head away.

"Hey." Sebastian slid down to his knees next to her. "Brittney is an idiot, leaving you for him. Bradley is a moron. She will probably coming running back."

Santana felt her voice break, but she no longer cared what Sebastian thought of her. "How could I take her back?" She sobbed. "How could I take her back, knowing I can't trust her? Knowing she could simply leave me again?"

Sebastian shrugged. "You can't. I guess love is just trusting that they will stay."

"What do you know about love?" Santana wiped her tears on her purple leather jacket sleeve.

"Nothing." Sebastian laughed. "I only know about sex." When Santana looked up at him, she had to laugh after seeing the devilish look on his face.

"Wow." She laughed, quieting down a bit.

"Did you know sex helps stress?" Sebastian asked. "It lowers blood pressure and helps keep you from getting sick." He grinned.

"Not surprising." Santana laughed. "Life was so easy back when I was a whore."

They laughed together. "Hey," Sebastian paused. "I have sex all the time."

There was an awkward silence. "And you're a whore, so…." Santana hoped she didn't offend him, but Sebastian simply nodded.

"Maybe. But," he clucked his tongue. "I bet sex with me would help make you feel better."

"Um." Santana sneered. "I don't know if you haven't noticed, but. I'm kind of gay."

"And I don't you know if you've noticed," Sebastian chuckled. "But I am too."

"And you are still asking me to have sex with you…?"

"Hey," Sebastian said. "All I'm saying is, I like dick, you like vagina. That's ok. But it's also ok to make acceptations, especially for a fine specimen like yourself." He smiled a lazy smile. "And you obviously can't think dick is so bad, since you were on half the boy's who go to this school's."

"Listen, you squinty eyed, coffee-breathed little bastard…" Santana trailed off when Sebastian burst into laughter. Yes, Santana had to admit that wasn't her best insult, but she was under times of distraught.

"Ah." Sebastian stood. "Look. All I'm saying is you can, and will do better. But you need a pick me up. I have a full bottle of vodka, a willing body, and an empty house. What do you say?" He held his hand out to her.

Santana just looked at it. "What if I don't want to have sex with you?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Then we can just talk. I still have a bottle of vodka, an empty house, and listening ears." He nudged her with his foot. "What are friends for?"

Santana stared at his hand for a second; but then nodded, smiled, and took it.

Maybe the squinty eyed, coffee-breathed little bastard wasn't so bad.