#highponyed

consider  my  offer .

            ❛   so,  i  was  looking  at  the  old  routine  notes   &   i  know  you’re  usually  on  top  of  the  pyramid  but  you  really  seem  like  a  BOTTOM  to  me.   ❜        she  delivers  the  blatant  sexual  reference  with  diction,  eyes  boring  unabashedly  into  quinn's.   there's  a  professionalism  to  her  tone  though  it's  not  without  its  ACIDIC  undercurrent.        ❛   ---   thoughts ?   ❜        she  bats  her  eyelashes,  reveling  in  her  position  of  authority.

                               your job’s a joke you’re broke,                                           your love life’s d.o.a

living  in  new  york  was  the  dream ,  but  no  one  tells  you  it  comes  with  strings  attached .  debts ,  failed  jobs ,  getting  behind  on  rent ,  staring  at  your  college  title  that  seems  like  nothing  but  a  piece  of  paper   nowadays ,  collecting  dust  in  your  study  desk ,  &  the  fatality  of  dating  weird  strangers  in  a  city  that  never  sleeps .  thankfully ,  you  have  friends  who  keep  you  warm  at  night .

tag: #ibtfygv

a private group verse loosely based on the tv show f.r.i.e.n.d.s, featuring:

@animalsweaters - rachel  berry

@awesomegaydar - santana  lopez

@daffydancer - brittany  pierce

@grandstanderson - blaine anderson

@highponyed - quinn fabray

@oflettermanjackets - noah puckerman

accepting  //  ‘closer’ sentence  starters @highponyed

it should feel like a stab, but what santana experiences the moment quinn spews those words cannot be compared to the pain of an open wound. this is much worse, like she can’t breathe all of a sudden; her diaphragm has forgotten how to guide her lungs to inhale and exhale .  instead ,  air gets trapped in her throat and she can barely muster a response. for someone with so many things to say, santana sure feels like she can’t find words right now.

she’s naturally inclined to stand her ground, of course, to let that familiar facade of apathy wash over her features and hurt quinn in return, through gritted teeth and venomous words that were sure to leave scars behind. what santana realizes however, is that nothing she could possibly say could ever hurt her as much as this does, and its not to say she didn’t have her suspicions. the distance was one thing, they had managed well the first few months, when she went to new york to follow her dreams and quinn got her shiny acceptance letter and was on a train to new haven before the beginning of the fall semester. she never thought falling out of love would be the reason for their demise.

santana was willing to pursue and fight for her. that’s what she’s always done, fought for the people she loved, and quinn? she loved quinn so much it was almost impossible to envision her life without her. to think she was probably just a high school fling, that she could probably find someone better than her, maybe someone who wore cashmere sweaters and had a trust fund that rivaled yale’s tuition fees for the next 4 years. it made sense. what was santana if not a small town girl who had held on a little too tightly to a fantasy that was obviously not reciprocal.

it feels like a joke too, because they’re in the auditorium, and for the first time santana feels out of place behind those curtains. there could be an audience behind them, for all she knew, mocking her for opening her heart to quinn fabray.

she’s too quiet, but when the tears come, she can’t hold it in anymore. she finally releases the breath she’s been holding and tears drip down her cheeks and onto the fabric of her leather jacket, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away, not only from quinn’s almost pitiful glance, but the feeling of powerlessness.

“so that’s it? this is how things between us end, after all this time? you’re not even going to try to make things work? fine. you know what? FINE. just do me a favor and don’t ever call me, or text me, or email me, or call the hummelberry twins to ask about me. if you’re done with me, i sure as hell am done with you, fabray”.

she’s bitter, and angry, and it takes all of her self-restraint not to lash out on her. she wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand and quickly pulls her bracelet off her wrist, the one with a silver ‘Q’ charm she had gotten for them their senior year. it snaps, sending all of her charms flying on the auditorium floor.

its the last time she steps foot in that auditorium after storming away and closing the door behind her so loudly she’s sure quinn hears it echoing from the acoustics.