Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee

I am putting on the last of the new curtain piece in the living toom before I start dinner when my phone started buzzing. I get off from the stool and check on my cell.

'Babe, I'm still at the studio. Will be one, two hours max, late for for dinner. Go and eat ahead. Love you. – S'

I sigh and started typing my reply.

'It's ok. Haven't started dinner anyway. Will just eat something light so we could eat dinner together. Take care. Don't stay up too late. Be waiting. I love you. – B'

After making sure that the house is in order, I decided to reheat the tuna sandwich I bought last night. I plop down on the couch and started munching the sandwich.

I was done eating in less than five minutes.

Not having anything else to do, I turned on the television to pass some time - skipping on any entertainment news channel. I settled on cartoon network and relaxed.

A few minutes into watching, the doorbell rings. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion because the only person I'm expecting has just informed me that she'll be late. Shrugging it off, I jump out of the couch and answered the door excitedly.

Maybe she just wanted to surprise me.

And surprise me she did.

Standing on my door steps is Dianna Agron. The Dianna Agron, in a simple, but elegant figure-hugging dress.

Dianna Agron is standing in front of me. Five-feet-seven; with long, shapely legs, and the kind of body that women all over the world pine for - toned, but still womanly and sexy; and those graceful and slim hips.

And that face. Vogue-insert beautiful. Perfect nose. Green eyes. Au natural, blonde movie star.

Thousands of magazines lauded her as this generation's Grace Kelly - devastatingly gorgeous, regal, poised and elegant.

Standing in front of her in my loose shirt and shorts, I look and feel like trash.

"Hi Brittany, good evening." She says in a sweet voice.

"H-Hello…"

"Can I talk to you for a few minutes?" She asks politely. I can feel my face pale at her words and she chuckles. "Relax…I promise no smackdown. I just want to talk." I sigh internally, mustering the courage to respond.

"Come in." I open the door fully for her and she offers me a tight-lipped smile as she walks past me. I close my eyes briefly and internally cursed myself for allowing this to happen.

Noticing that she has yet to sit down, I asked her to.

"Would you like something to drink?" I offer curtly.

"Water would be fine, thank you." I walk towards the kitchen and poured her glass some water. I came back to see her looking at the paintings hanging on the wall.

"I love this sailboats painting." She points at one of the frames. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you. It's from my dad. Here's your water."

"Thank you." She sits down on the couch and took a sip of her water.

"Tiffany?" She asks as she stares at the lamp with a multicolored hood that looks like an umbrella.

"Yes, got it from New York." I answer anxiously.

"Cool. How was your tour?"

"Great. It was okay. Look Dianna, I don't mean to be rude…but what do you want?"

"Oh…" She takes another sip of her water and smiles sweetly at me. "I think we both know what I want so I'm not going to waste my time to get it across. I just want you to know that, I know." She smirks and I remain silent. "Don't worry. I'm not going to make a scene or turn this into a ruckus. I don't want to drag my father's name into this. I'm so much better than that."

Still nothing from me.

"It's just that…you had your turn, Brittany. You had your chances, and I mean, chances; and you blew them. Why want another one?" She grits, voice lower than earlier.

"I loved her first. She was mine first."

"She is married to me, first." She bites back. "Ouch?"

"No. She loves me more."

"More?" She laughs sarcastically. "She loves you more? In what way? By hiding out? By playing house? That isn't real life, sweetheart."

"It feels real to us. More real than it could ever feel between you."

"I don't know about that, but I would have to give you credit. Yeah, she loves you." She says nonchalantly, albeit mockingly.

"Then why are you still with her? If you know she's in love with someone else, why are you staying with her?"

"Why are you?" She challenges.

"Because I love her so much and I can't live without her."

"Oh darling…that's our dilemma now, isn't it?" She chuckles dryly. "Two blondes…madly in love with the same brunette." She titters. "I take it you're not backing down?"

"No."

"Figures." She rolls her eyes at my answer. "I'm just surprised you haven't asked her to choose between us. That would have been the classic Brittany move, aye?" She snickers. "Ohhhh…wait…! That's how she slipped away from you in the first place. I remember now…" She mocks me and I clench my fists, trying so hard to reign my emotions. "You're afraid, aren't you? You know she won't choose you, again."

"She loves me. That's more than enough."

"Not enough for her to leave me though." She chuckles again.

"She won't leave you because of her career."

"Oh really?"

"You and your father and your freaking publicity-savvy army did this to her." I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Hush now…careful, careful, dear. No matter what you say; no matter how you look at it - upside down, sideways, whichever way, I amthe wife and you are, the mistress. Or one of them, I suppose. You know Santana, don't you?" She ribs. "We are Tinseltown's golden couple. The public wouldn't take too kindly to anyone ruining our fairytale marriage now, would they? Where would that leave you, huh, Brittany? Do you think there would be any dance company who'll take you in? You will forever be known as the home-wrecker bitch."

I scoff at her words. Agron does love to play mind tricks on basically everybody. Santana herself fell for her trap.

"And no. she won't leave me just because of her career, Britt." She mutters condescendingly. "I have been here for her when she needed someone most. Remember those Asian tours? When she was scorned to death? Where we you, huh, Brittany? Where were you?" She asks spitefully. "My heart was shattered that time - seeing her so hurt like that. I was the one who picked up all the pieces, princess. Not you. Not one of your friends. I did." She fiddles with the ring on her finger before continuing, "But something good came out of it, right? She saw me. Finally. She loved me. So don't be so smug now. She loves me. Enough to marry me and let the whole world know." She mocks further.

"What do you want then?"

"I'm not going to beg you to leave my wife and neither would I ask her to. I just want you to know where you stand. If you want to play…play fair. But if you want war, I'll give it to you."

She stands up gracefully and smiles sweetly at me.

"I have to go now. I have an interview with Letterman and I have to prepare. Thank you for your time, Britt." She walks away and heads to the door, only to stop midway. "By the way, please give this to Santana." She rummages through her purse; produced a platinum band and leaves it on the table. "She forgot it, again. Wouldn't want the paps to snap some photos of her without it. Now that would cause a bit of a problem, huh? Just do me a favor, Brittany? Don't be the one to put it on her finger. I don't want her to be confused as to who you are in her life. Good night. Enjoy your late dinner."

I remained seated on the couch long after she closed the door.

With a sigh, I get up, and started to prepare dinner.

/

The decision to delete all my stories is unfair to a majority of readers who genuinely liked them and are waiting giddily for the updates. With that being said, I decided to post the stories again, albeit one at a time (starting with the older ones first). It would give the stories more focus (and better chances of getting finished) and it would be like starting fresh, on my end.

Let me know what you think!

PS: If you can, please don't review as a guest or anonymously (LOL).

Special shout out to: lordsith10, LostInNaya'sEyes, Daysinha, slo4prez, ikoipippa, hidsb, travellinginfraction :) Thank you for your kind words and messages! This is for you!