Santana's POV
Okay.
It has been approximately 3 weeks, or is it 4? Anyway, Brittany hasn't spoken to me in ages. I've sort of lost track of time. I'm sleepwalking through the days, just going from coffee shop to class to the diner to bed. And then repeating it over and over. I'm exhausted. I feel sort of numb, like I'm floating above everything. I'm hardly ever hungry, and if I stand up too soon then the room spins and I have to stay still for a second.
I'm fine.
My class work hasn't suffered too much. I just go on autopilot, and copy everything down. But I'm not taking any of it in. I do any essays on my break at the diner. Dani is starting to get worried though. She notices whenever I get dizzy, or yawn, or skip another meal because my stomach flips.
And Brittany and all her friends still hate me. A few days ago, they pulled an all nighter movie marathon. Anyway, I stumbled in the door at 2am while they were watching a horror movie. I scared the shit out of them, and in return got a bunch of death stares from everyone but Rachel. She was asleep.
I slept on the sofa that night.
And Puck keeps complaining that I never spend any time with him anymore. But I can't bring myself to tell him that I'm working all the time. It makes me seem like the world's worst girlfriend, putting work over my relationships. So I just tell him that I have a load of class work to catch up on. But I don't even like him that much. He's arrogant, and leers at you.
Brittany doesn't even question me on where I disappear off to every night. I wonder where she thinks I am?
I've fallen into this routine. And it's not the best, but it's somehow working out. I'm running on practically no sleep, and a load of coffee, and everyone in the world hates me. But I'm holding it together.
Until today, when everything fell apart.
I woke up at 7am, after having 5 hours of sleep. My eyes wouldn't open at first, and I just felt so tired. My body felt as if it was made out of lead as I dragged myself out of bed, and got dressed in the clothes from yesterday. Or maybe from the day before that? I don't really care anymore.
I hate this all so much.
I'm meant to be living my best life. I should be out every night partying, making friends and having fun. I should be dying my hair random colours and making midnight trips to shops for cravings. I should be talking to Brittany about how I'm really confused about my feelings for her.
But I'm trapped in this cycle, which is so fragile that if I make one wrong move, it will shatter down around me. And I need it to stay together, so I have a place to live and money to pay bills and stuff. It sounds dumb, but I'm scared. This isn't me, I barely recognise this workaholic who has one friend and writes essays on depressing books.
When I get to the coffee shop, Rory barely even notices my disheveled state. He hands me an apron, and starts to speak fast. It takes a second for it to sink in, but I understand soon enough.
"Jesus Christ Santana, could you have been any later? Miss Sylvester is coming in to inspect us, and this needs to be perfect. I want my raise so I can fly back to Ireland and visit my family."
"Yeah, sure, I'll sort everything out."
I start so sort out our coffee cups, so the logos are all facing the same way. Then I make sure that all the chairs are straightened at the tables, and the menus are laid out facing the right way up. Sue is a perfectionist about these things, and she won't hesitate to fire us if anything is wrong.
By the time she shows up, me and Rory are the best baristas in New York. All our customers are being served quickly, and we haven't drawn any boobs or dicks on top of their drinks with milk.
What? We need to have fun as well.
Anyway, Sue goes around the place, asking some people questions. I try to listen in, but Rory calls me back to the counter to make the smoothies. I don't even know why a coffee shop sells smoothies, plus they're really complicated. Thankfully, I've been on autopilot all morning, so it's not a big deal.
After about 20 minutes of inspecting the place, Sue walks over to me and Rory.
"Lopez and Irish? I need to speak to you both first thing tomorrow morning."
Then she turns on her heel and walks out the shop. Rory serves the next few customers, then turns to face me.
"Oh god. Good or bad news?"
I shrug and take a sip from the coffee I'm drinking. I had to wait for Sue to leave before I could make it, and I was barely functioning. Rory rolls his eyes and goes to clear a few tables, while I paste on a smile and serve everyone.
When my shift ends, I take off my apron and grab my backpack before heading to my first lecture. With my former friend Mercedes. She just ignores me completely now, which is a shame. If I wasn't so tired, I could make some really good jokes about Miss Rhodes and her alcoholism.
I don't even know what happened. One minute I was taking notes, next thing I know Mercedes is nudging me with a concerned look on her face.
"Santana?"
"Hmm?"
"You fell asleep. Are you okay?"
"Shit, how much did I miss."
"You can copy mine. Now answer me, are you okay? You're really pale."
"I'm fine. Just didn't sleep much last night. Oh, and I'm so honoured that you're speaking to me."
She looks uncomfortable
"I'm sorry about all that. I think that it's gone a bit far, but Rachel is loving it. And Tina just goes along with whatever Britt says."
"I know. But it wasn't my fault."
"Really?"
"Yes. Puck told me that it didn't start until later, and he was the one who was driving me there. I didn't have a choice."
"Oh, Santana. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be."
I stand up, ready to go my next lecture.
"I've been fucking miserable for the past few weeks. And nobody has been there for me."
Then I walk out the room, leaving Mercedes behind.
I'm paranoid about falling asleep in the next few classes, but I somehow make it through while staying awake. The day floats by, as ever other day does. I don't eat lunch, my stomach turns when I go near the cafeteria. Instead I go to the library and catch up on some work. I hide at the back, where the dusty old reference books are, so I won't have to talk to anyone.
Before I know it, I'm at the diner, changing into my uniform. Dani runs in, late. She's been dating this new girl, and she lives further out of town.
"Sorry I'm late." She pants, dumping her bag and fixing her hair. I pass her my deodorant and she nods a silent thanks.
"It's fine. I just got here anyway." I assure her.
"Santana, can I ask you something serious?"
"No, not really."
"Are you okay? Like, answer me properly. Because you don't look like you've been sleeping, I think you've lost weight, and you keep zoning out. I'm getting worried about you."
"I'm fine, I swear. Just.. a lot of work right now."
"Okay. Remember, I'm here to talk."
"I know."
I leave before she can question me any more. The diner is busier than usual, due to a new show opening up just down the street. So people are coming here for their pre-theatre dinner. I serve a bunch of people, carefully avoiding Dani while I'm at it. But then something happens.
I'm not sure what happened first. Either the plate burned my hand, or I tripped over his foot, or I just felt so overwhelmingly tired. But anyway, I got dizzy and the room was spinning. And this time, there was nothing for me to grab onto.
Either way, I ended up on the floor with a smashed plate beside me. When I came around, a bunch of people were crowded over me. I tried to sit up, but Dani appeared and cleared everyone away.
"Stay there San."
"No, I'm fine, seriously."
"No, you're not."
She gets another waiter to cover our tables, then takes my hand. She guides me towards the staff room, treating me as if I'm about to break. I just want to sleep.
"Sit."
I do as she says. She gives me a glass of water, then sits across from me.
"I'm taking you home."
"No, you can't. I just need a second."
I can't go home. I won't get paid for this shift, and then I'll be short for the rent.
"No. Santana, you're not okay. I should have said something sooner. How much sleep are you getting?"
"Ages."
"Santana?"
"I don't want to talk about this. You don't understand."
"Please just let me drive you home. You need to rest, this is going to make you ill."
I protest more, but she ignores me. And I'm too tired to properly argue. I can feel my eyelids dropping as she calls in some of the other guys who work here to cover our shifts. Then I actually do fall asleep, because she shakes me awake and puts my jacket on, while I blink and try not to cry.
I'm just so tired.
Then I'm being hustled out to her car, and sat in the passenger seat. She drives me back to my apartment block, humming along to the song on the radio. I turn away and look out the window. The city flashes by in a series of brightly coloured windows. I love it and hate it at the same time.
When we get back to the apartment, she insists on walking me upstairs, in case I faint on the way up. I don't even bother arguing with her anymore. The elevator is broken anyway. She gets me to my door, then pulls me in for a quick hug.
"It's going to be okay. See you later."
Then she's leaving, walking down the stairs. I take a breath, then unlock the door. I stumble in, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. I'm all for collapsing on the floor, when someone clears their throat. Brittany's sitting on the sofa, looking at me with a disapproving expression on her face.
"Santana, you used up all the milk this morning."
I burst into tears.
Brittany's POV
She literally bursts into tears. I've never seen Santana cry before. She looks so sad, and scared. But it's not that big a deal. Just milk.
I get up and tentatively walk over to her, taking in her outfit. It's almost like a cheerleading uniform, but with a little apron stuck on the front. A badge has her name on it. Wait, was she working?
Santana stands in front of me, sobbing into her hands. Her shoulders shake, and I can see tears and mascara smudging down her cheeks. So I do what any normal person would do. I wrap my arms around her, letting her cry into my chest. At first she resists, but then she gives up.
I stroke her hair, as she gasps slightly. I can feel the edges of her ribs pressing into me. Oh, Tana, what have you done to yourself? Something has broken inside of her, and I'm determined to find out what. I'll even start speaking to her again. I kind of miss her anyway.
"Shh, it's okay. Come and sit down." I whisper. She nods and we walk over to the sofa. She sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. She's a mess. I turn her face towards me and wipe away the tears from her cheeks. For the first time, I notice the defined eye bags. This is a lot worse than I had originally thought.
"I-I'm s-sorry B. I'm just really really tired."
"It's not your fault. What's happened? Are you working?"
"Uh-huh."
"How much? Is that where you've been all this time?"
"All what time?"
"In the morning and at night."
"Yeah. Where did you think I was?"
"Pucks?"
"I've barely seen him the past few weeks."
I feel a pang of guilt, and keep digging deeper.
"Why have you been working so much?"
"I have to."
"No you don't."
"You don't understand. I'm sorry, but I'm just making a drama out of nothing. I just need to sleep, and I'll be fine in the morning."
She gets up, as if to leave, and I grab her hands.
"No. Stay. Talk to me, please. I'm worried about you."
"You're only worried because I cried. Be honest, you wouldn't have noticed anything different."
I'm quiet at that, because it's true. I haven't noticed any changes in Santana, mostly because I've been ignoring her.
"That's right. And I'm sorry, I'm a crappy friend for doing that."
"Friend? You're still my friend?"
"Hell yeah. I was hurt at the whole thing about missing my performance, but I took it too far."
"It wasn't even my fault."
She's telling the truth, and I feel even worse.
"Sit down, and talk to me. I'm here for you now. Let's sort out whatever's causing you problems."
She hesitates, but sits down again. I keep a hold of her hands though.
"I'm just so fucking tired all the time."
"Why?"
"Because I'm always working. I get up at 7 and go to the coffee shop, work there until my first lecture, then after class I go to the diner and work there until 2am. Every. Fucking. Day."
"Oh god. Santana, why are you doing this to yourself?"
"Because I have no fucking money. I need to have two jobs just to pay for this tiny apartment with it's broken elevator and annoying neighbours. And I hate it all so much."
"Why didn't you talk to me?"
"Uhm, maybe because you hated my guts?"
"I didn't hate you."
"Yes you did."
"I'm sorry. I don't hate you anymore, I never did."
"I know. I hate myself. I'm so dumb."
"You're not. But my parents are rich, they wouldn't have minded paying a little extra onto the rent."
"I can't ask them for money."
"They wouldn't mind."
"I just can't."
She's adamant about that. I move across and pull her into another hug. She relaxes in my arms, and I rub her back gently.
"I missed you." She whispers. I smile into her hair.
"I missed you too."