Balancing Love ☞︎ A Jesse St. James fan fic

I'll Sing For Dance...

Kurt, Rachel, and I were all in the living room and waiting to talk to Santana when she just so happened to open the door.

"Wait for it," She said before she dragged a nasty chair inside. "Right? I found this out by the dumpster, with a little TLC and three clicks of Kurts ruby slippers, this bad boy would be salvageable." Santana says happily.

"It rolls." I mutter.

"Um, can you please take a seat, because Kurt, Madi, and I would like to have a conversation with you." Rachel says.

"Alright, you know what, Rachel. If you are still obsessing over what you're going to sing at your funny girl callback, may I suggest your best jam ever, run, Joey, run." Santana says with a smirk.

"We think you're throwing your life away." Rachel spits out.

"It's bad enough you let those horny tourists grope you for tips at that awful coyote ugly bar but Tina just informed me that you are now a bouncer at a lesbian beer garden?!" Kurt says standing up.

"And you're a go-go girl. A go-go girl!" Rachel shouts.

"You deserve so much more." I try and reason.

"I am a cage dancer- big difference. I'm dressed as Barbarella and I'm sorry, but some of us actually have to work for a living." Santana says.

"That's not the point." I say.

"Ok, you're so talented, Santana. You're like, the most talented person I know, obviously with the exception of Madi, me, and Kurt." Rachel says. Kurt facing the window, looks over his shoulder and nods, motioning his arm in agreement. "But your voice, it's electric, and I would kill for half of your dancing abilities. So I'm telling you what you told me, which is that you just need to stop and focus on your talent." Rachel rambles encouragingly.

"Well maybe, I don't want to be in funny girl, ok? Or be a singing waiter at the fire island pancake shack, so why don't you just stop trying to force all of your freaky old-time broadway dreams onto my amazingly awesome dream." Santana snaps.

"And what's that?" I ask. Santana hesitates.

"... I am trying to figure that out," Santana says. Kurt and I give each other a look. "What is so wrong with taking a little time to figure things out?" Santana asks softly.

"Nothing. But what about doing something in the meantime? Like dance lessons?" Kurt suggest. I nod in agreement.

"NYADA has a great extension program for non-students. Something to keep your motors revved, you know..." I trail off.

"My motor is revved every night that I cage dance."

"Oh, that's not real dancing." I mutter.

"And while I appreciate your pity, I don't really think I need to be taking any advice from tv's blossoms and lady Elaine Fairchild; I will think of one for you later." She says pointing to me as she walks away.

"Would you take your chair with you?" Kurt shouts after her.

It was that night and no more had been discussed about Santana. Santana and I sat at the table and watched Rachel cook dinner. 

"Ladies," Kurt said as he walked in and up to the table. "What is the event the big apples hoi polloi must be invited to or they'll pull a Javert and swan dive off the Chrysler building?" Kurt asks excitingly.

"The new york city ballet gala, duh." I say.

"And guess who gets to attend if they just volunteer a few short hours?" Kurt asks, getting more excited.