this girl is on fire

Sugar felt her party mood beginning to evaporate, Santana's words acting like a downer as they sunk in. The worst part was the fact that she was right. Santana had only been trying to help Sugar be happy, and had her best interests at heart. It was one of Sugar's few life regrets that she hadn't been honest with her friend. It seemed like it would be so simple, to just open her mouth and explain that she'd never really been attracted to anyone so why not marry Seb? It wasn't like anyone was going to want to marry her for real. But the internalised shame and a fear that admitting everything out loud would make it all real had kept her quiet, breaking up her friendship with Santana in the process. "You're psycho, you know that-" Sugar said, though she didn't believe what she was saying. It was a defence mechanism at this point, trying to hide just how right Santana was and how much it all hurt her. "I ruined it? Friends don't have to agree with every decision you make but that didn't mean you had to abandon me, you know. I am not fake either. I'm hot, rich, and have good friends who actually showed up for me. What about that is fake?" She said, stopping short of saying she was happy.

This was a woman she used to share bottles of wine with in front of the television. Someone she'd opened up about some aspects of her family to. Try as she might to deny it, Santana had built herself a little found family in Los Angeles, and Sugar had once been a big part of it. She was still a part of it—Santana could never leave someone she loved truly hanging— but why did everything have to be so tainted now? Why couldn’t Sugar just let herself look for actual happiness? Maybe they really couldn’t be friends anymore. Combined with Santana’s general existential dread about finishing school soon, it was all too much. Tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes, even as she furrowed her brow to just cover it up with being pissed. "Y'know what’s chistosa? Everyone wants a real one until I say something they don’t like. Definition of fake if you ask me," she slurred. "I didn’t abandon shit! I’m just not going to be a part of whatever the hell you’re doing. You could have so much better, or at least I thought you could." She hadn't realized her voice had crept up to almost a yell in that crowded room, and fell silent again, wiping roughly at her eyes.

Sugar felt bad as Santana spoke, the pieces falling into place too late for her to take it back. Sugar knew about the delayed academic career but had failed to put two and two together before opening her mouth. She had wanted to play nice, missing the friendship that the two of them had had. However, any thoughts about apologising quickly evaporated as Santana continued talking, Sugar's mouth falling open at the accusation. "That's not true, this bitch was supposed to be a bridesmaid." She called after the retreating stranger's back, before she rounded on Santana. "I didn't want you at my wedding? Are you delusional? How many of those have you had?" She gestured at the cup in Santana's hand. It still hurt to think about how far their friendship had fallen, especially when Sugar could have probably fixed it by just being honest with Santana.

If you asked her on an average (sober) day, Santana would say that they were friends... but things had never been the same since the wedding. Santana had spent far too long playing their arguments in her mind. She missed how easy it was to talk to Sugar; their attitudes clashed but it used to work most of the time. Now, it was much easier to go to the yelling place, and not think about the bridesmaid dress that she'd bought ages ago and never used. It still hung in the back of her closet (she hadn't set fire to it like had claimed on a number of occasions). "That's so rich," she scoffed. "ME, delusional! How about you with your head in your ass even to this day, when all I did was try and help you actually be happy! Do you know how hard it is to find real friends in LA? Face it, you ruined this," she hiccuped a little pathetically and gestured between the two of them, "Because you're just as fake as the rest of them."

“Wasted? No way. I barely survived high school, and I don't have too much to show for not going to college. Not that I probably would have done well with it either. But you should be proud! I'm sure it will be worth it. What are you studying?” Sam gave a little shrug. “And hey, there’s plenty of time to make the next chapter way more fun. You seem like a pretty adaptable person. At least from what I can tell.” His smile and gaze softened as he noticed the glassiness in her eyes. “Just… maybe slow down on the jungle juice before we end up reenacting a soap opera scene, okay? Wanna get some food in you? I'm Sam, by the way.”

Santana wrinkled her nose a little - pride was hard to come by when all she could think about were her friends doing things in the real world. Just one more semester, one bar exam, and she could finally leave the books behind. "Going for my law degree," she answered in a rare moment of candor. Drinking made her chatty. "Hopefully will end up in civil rights - I'm already doing a public service by putting myself through this crap. I just really want to help the world suck a little less for the average loser. Go Bruins." She scowled at the notion that this stupidly wholesome stranger would be trying to take care of her. "Wow, very sweet, very charming. I have no intentions of making a telenovela with you. Y'know I don't swing your way, right?" she said loftily, taking another sip of her drink before offering her cup to him. It was a wonder she didn't spill on either of them. "I'm Santana. You should probably get me some bread."

@Santana

Sugar had finished her fourth margarita of the night and had just collected a fifth from the bar when she'd run into Santana. The two of them seemingly swung between friends and enemies like a pendulum on a grandfather clock. The alcohol would likely either cause Sugar to play nice, softening any usual edges, or it would make her more of a bitch, the pendulum really could go either way at a moment's notice. "Yeah, what's up with that? Did they make you retake a year or two? You've been in school forever." Sugar commented, taking a sip from her drink. "I don't think that's true though. You still have hot years in front of you. Plus some girls are into nerdy girls, right? You'll be fine." She added, deciding to try and be nice for the evening.

Santana groaned when she realized who had come along and found her. Sugar and Santana were tolerable to one another, but that was on like, a good day for both of them. Tonight, the floor was feeling wobbly and the lump in her stomach from a drink ago had moved to her throat. "Haven't we been over this? I took two years off to help take care of— what the fuck am I even saying? Don't pretend like you actually want to c-comfort me," she said, leaning against the wall in an effort to find stability. "Y'know, this bitch didn't even want me at her wedding," she muttered to the stranger beside her. The stranger shuffled away awkwardly. "Whatever."

i don't know what you're talking about. 😇

It's always the lowkey ones... meanwhile, I'm innocent as cotton candy.

i'm gonna go with yes. what's the worst they can do, reject the arrest? at least maybe they'd be forced to pay for your meal. that's bullshit. i'm usually right at the door now if i order something because i don't trust anyone. so i guess maybe i'm not really paranoid after all.

...definitely not the worst they could do but I'll let you ponder on that one for a lil bit. Honestly wondered if this was karma for being a lazy ass not wanting to put pants on, but screw that. After a day rubbing elbows with LA's finest, I needs my beef-and-cheese wrapped carbs.

How would I know, aren't you the one studying law?

Girl... there's like a billion kinds of law. That's like saying watching Grey's Anatomy for a few seasons means you know everything about being a doctor. And I would never assume that looking hot makes me able to, say, shop and style for insufferable rich people.

i don't know what the rules are about that, but if they took your food then they totally deserve it! sounds like maybe they were stalking the delivery person. or what if they were stalking you?? be careful!

I'm glad you agree. Somehow I don't think I'm interesting enough to have a stalker unless there's a wackjob watching me sling drinks or study. But that's a good point, Snix and I need to be on the lookout case some incel weirdo guy (like c'mon, you KNOW it had to be a guy) comes along. Like for example, I have no idea who the hell YOU are.

won't the app at least refund you in the event of a porch pirate? i would think that would be the case. if i'm doing takeout i try to meet the person at the door and have it actually handed to me because i had too many delicious dinners stolen from outside my apartment in my old building in new york.

Ugh, porch pirate makes them sound way more badass than they are. It was probably a 40-year old man that smells like pizza grease. Rachel... please get real. If I have to talk to a person just to get my food I wouldn't be paying for it in the first place.

i think that might depend on what you mean by "arrest". like, do you have handcuffs?

lol @ this whole innocent act. I've seen the stuff they put on runways now. It's like they found every twink in LA and dressed them for a sad, sterile, orgy.

oh no, that sucks! that used to happen to me quite a lot in new york, until i figured out it was my neighbor stealing my food. so, what's the plan here? are you going to order again and hide in a corner so you can catch them in the act? and did you at least get a refund from the app?

Genuinely have no idea who it is, because the stinkers next door only eat this weird goop crap that gets delivered in bottles. They might be eating through their belly buttons or something.