I drop my bag and lazily drop myself down on the couch, too. I huff and cross my arms before looking at our drummer.

"So, where's our new bassist?" I ask him as I prepare myself for the worst. The thing is I don't really trust Finn, but he's the only one who was willing to spend his time looking for a replacement to take Puck's place, which he left when he quit because he wanted to go back to college. But then again, I still trust him more than our manager.

Speaking of which…

"And where the hell is Abrams?"

"With the bassist who's getting ready to meet our meticulous vocalist," Joe, our lead guitarist, answers for Finn as he walks into the room.

"He better be hot," I smirk as I sink deeper into the chair.

"Oh, she is," Sam, the froggy-lipped guitar player, butts in as the door opens again.

I feel my heart stop at Sam's statement before I turn around to face the doorway.

Brittany?

"And finally, you get to meet Santana," Artie says to the girl next to him.

"Really?" The girl says as she brushes her blonde hair away from her face to reveal a soft smile and the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

Oh.

"San, meet Quinn, our new bassist," Artie chants with a proud smile as he guides Quinn towards me. Normally, I would have countered with a "stop calling me San", if only I could find my voice.

"Pleasure to finally meet you," Quinn tells me with a huge grin, extending her right hand towards me—which I awkwardly just stare at.

The blonde hair.

That smile.

Her jollity.

I've seen those before…

"Are you okay?" Quinn takes me back to reality. I feel myself jump a little before I notice that everyone in the room is looking at me with concerned looks.

"Huh?" I finally get the chance to speak. "I-uhh… I'm okay." I take a deep breath before adding, "Nice to meet you, too."

"Perfect," Artie says as he clapped his hands once suddenly, startling the rest of us. "Because you'll be roommates and we'd want you to get along well, won't we?" He adds as he grins wider before looking at me, then narrows his eyes at me.

"R-roommate?" I clear my throat after I stutter. "But my room—"

"Has only one bed no more," Artie cuts me off. "Besides, your room has always been too big for one, hasn't it?"

Before I can open my mouth to protest, Artie grabs me and Quinn by the arm and drags us out of the room, with the guys following trailing behind us. "Now, go on," he calls on us. "Get home and get some rest, you all, especially you, Quinnie. You're gonna have the press con in two days. The van's waiting outside. Oh, and don't worry about the room, you two. I've arranged everything."

He leans towards me and whispers, "Behave, Santana. Try to control your rage, 'kay? This one's all good, anyway. You'll like her."

"But—" I start, only to be pushed lightly by our manager to the van.

"Bye, guys. Be safe. Good luck, Quinn." Artie says all of that in a hurry before slamming the van's sliding door shut.

I groan, cross my arms, and sink deeper into my seat.

I'm so going to kill Abrams.

"Hey," I snap my head towards Quinn who's looking at me, still with a smile in place. "Don't worry, Santana. I don't snore."

I open my mouth, and close it when no words came out. I just nod and look away.

This is so not good…

"You brought a teddy bear?"

Quinn looks at me and nods enthusiastically. "Yes, and I still like wearing pj's."

"What? How old are you? Eight?" I snort. "That'll explain the cartoon bedsheets and everything."

"So the rumors are true," she replies as she gets rid of her smile. "You are mean."

I shrug. "I can't help it. My blood type's B for Bitch."

And you remind me of someone.

I hate you.

"Well, I'm twenty, just for the record," she tells me in a quiet voice.

I smirk as I sit down my bed. "What happened to your high spirits?"

"Your negative energy drained it all," she scowls as she lies down her cot and hides under her Toy Story covers.

I'm such a bitch.

"Yeah, well, good night, Buzz," I chuckle before lying down too and turning my back on Quinn.

Brittany would have loved her blanket and furry slippers.