A Morning Dedication

Chapter 1:

"No, I don't want to come home." Santana sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She's on the phone with her mother, who's been trying to convince her to go back to Lima for Christmas next month.

"Everybody's asking me what's going on with you, what you're doing. They're your family and they miss you, mija. They haven't seen you in five years." Maribel says softly. She knows not to pressure Santana on this subject too much.

"No, they ask too many questions." She mumbles as she watches her finger that's now drawing random patterns on the kitchen table. She has a pretty big family and everybody is always in her business. Sometimes she hates it. Other times she hates it more. She loves her family though.

"They're not bad, Santanita. They don't want to jinx you or be jealous of you. They just care about you."

"I don't want them to care, mami! I just don't want them asking me anything about anyone. I'm pretty sure that's what they want to do!" She exclaims quietly because she doesn't want Quinn, who's in the living room, to hear her. "I'm not coming to Lima, I'm sorry." She says more calmly, although she doesn't feel calm at all. She hasn't been back home since she was eighteen, she only sees her parents whenever they come to New York to see her. And she knows that they miss her and she misses her parents too. But she's definitely not going back there. And Maribel seems to understand that, if you go by the sigh she lets out.

"She isn't here, mija." She says carefully, fully aware of how mentioning 'her' can affect her daughter.

"You don't know that." Santana stands up from the table to go to the fridge. Now she needs a drink.

"I haven't seen her in years and Lima is pretty small. I'm pretty sure she left."

"Alright!" She doesn't want to hear any more of this. She heard it a thousand times.

"Santanita, you can't avoid your family forever…" Maribel trails off and Santana downs the glass of wine she poured for herself before interrupting her mother.

"You're not allowed to tell anything to anyone!"

"We're not kids, Santanita." Maribel knows that Santana still feels bad. That she feels extremely guilty. And she knows that the last thing Santana needs is someone else, except herself, blaming her too.

"Tell papi I said hi and I'll talk to you soon, ok?" She wants to immediately hang up the phone but she doesn't for a few excruciating seconds as she waits for her mother to agree. As she waits for her mother to understand that this is still difficult for her. And she's pretty sure it's going to be difficult for a long time to come.

"Ok, mija. I love you."

"I love you too." Santana hangs up and throws her phone on the counter before leaning on it with her elbows and rubs her face with her hands. "Fuck." She whispers to herself. She really didn't want to remember 'her' again. It just can't seem to leave her alone. It's been five years. But maybe that's her punishment…

She swallows hard before taking a big breath, only to let it out shakily, trying to regain her composure. She straightens up again and pours another glass of wine and turns to go back in the living room.

"Are you ok?" Quinn asks once she sees her.

"Yes." Santana nods as she sits next to her. She places the glass she's holding on the coffee table and then picks up her laptop, setting it on her lap as she sits cross-legged on the couch.

"Was that Dani?" Quinn asks then, making Santana blink a few times because she completely forgot about her ex. The woman she broke up with only a week ago. "Did she say that she wants you guys to get back together?"

"What? No, it was my mom. And why would Dani want us to get back together?"

"I don't know. 'It wasn't working' doesn't seem like a good reason for me to end an eight-month relationship."

"It wasn't working, Q." Santana sighs. She's having too many conversations that she doesn't want to have today. Quinn hums because she certainly knows why 'it wasn't working' with Dani. She knows why it didn't work with anybody Santana tried to date these last few years. But she doesn't comment. She just wants to give Santana the opportunity to talk about it. To talk about 'her'. But Santana obviously doesn't want to do that. She never did.

"Ok, so about that photoshoot." Quinn goes to change the subject, although she knows that the brunette won't want to talk about that either.

"You really don't know what to talk to me about, do you?" Santana rolls her eyes before glaring at her friend and Quinn rolls her eyes too.

"San, please think about it!" She says exasperated. "It's in your contract to promote your own show. I shouldn't even argue with you about this. More listeners mean more commercials. And commercials mean money!"

"I know that, Q. And I do promote my show. I promote my radio show with my voice. And there's the Twitter and Facebook too. My face is not getting in this game." She says with finality as she returns her attention to her laptop. It's pretty clear how adamant she is about this.

"But it's a hot face!" Quinn argues, making Santana look at her again with an amused eyebrow arched. She lets her hand slowly close the gap between her and her friend on the couch, until she reaches the blonde's hand.

"You think I'm hot?" She asks, playfully looking at her friend through her eyelashes and letting her finger caress the back of Quinn's hand.

"Oh, come on!" The blonde groans and swats Santana's hand away, making the brunette chuckle. "Just do it!"

"No." She says seriously, letting Quinn know that this conversation is over, and turns back to her laptop.

"Just one photoshoot." Quinn throws anyway, although she knows that it won't convince Santana. And the brunette doesn't even look up from her laptop, where she's going through the playlist for tomorrow morning one more time, confirming to Quinn that a photoshoot is off the table. At least for now. "Fine." She mumbles bitterly and reaches on the coffee table to take Santana's glass of wine and drinks all of it.

"What's up, blondie?" Santana asks, watching her friend as she places the glass back on the coffee table. "Sam didn't call, did he?" Sam and Quinn went on a couple of dates but apparently he isn't into her as much as she is into him.

"No, he didn't!" Quinn shouts looking at Santana with wide, terrifying eyes, making her jump startled.

"Jeez, woman. Pull yourself together, have some self-respect!" She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue as she turns back to her laptop, seconds before she feels Quinn hitting her on the arm. She turns to glare at her, only to find her friend looking back with her own glare. "Look, if you want to clean my apartment to get Sam out of your system then I'm not gonna stop you. Go ahead." She opens her arms, gesturing for Quinn to start cleaning.

"I'm not cleaning your apartment!" Quinn looks at her incredulously.

"I know you want to." Santana looks back pointedly, making Quinn bite her bottom lip and look around the living room.

"Fine, I'll clean but only because you asked me to." The blonde finally says, like she's doing Santana a favor, and stands up, making the brunette's jaw drop. But she should expect this from Quinn, so she then snorts a laugh and rolls her eyes.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, neat freak."

…

The loud music coming from the radio is being heard in the otherwise quiet room, effectively waking Brittany up. She immediately reaches on the nightstand to lower the volume of the radio. Not turn it off. She never turns it off. She just lowers the volume so her companion, who slightly shifts from the loud noise on the bed next to her, won't wake up. And once she makes sure that they're sleeping, she focuses on the song as she relaxes against her pillow.

She recognizes that the song playing is 'Amazed' by Lonestar. She tries to not concentrate on the lyrics of the love song though. It's a nice song but she isn't going to lie, it's not that song she wants to listen to. She doesn't want to listen to any song, really. She just waits to hear that voice. That voice that always has her insides doing all kinds of awesome flips and leaps and turns. Like those that Sue taught her at high school. She lets a sad smile take over her face as memories of her teenage years come to mind and she watches the ceiling, while she's lying on her back, like it's a screen and her life is the movie. But before she can get carried away in her darkness, she hears her.

"That was 'Amazed' by Lonestar that Simon dedicates to Kayla for their fourth wedding anniversary. Happy anniversary you guys!" That's the voice that she's sure she's, unfortunately, still in love with. That's the raspy, like raw honey, voice that has her heartbeats increase. She briefly wonders what would happen to her heart if she heard that voice in real life and not through the radio. But she knows that's not going to happen so she tries to concentrate back to listen to her. She licks her lips in anticipation as she waits for it… "And good morning to anybody that have just tuned in."

She smiles. Santana always says that just after Brittany tunes in. She likes to believe that it's because Santana somehow knows when she wakes up, and she does her best to ignore the rational part of her brain that tells her that Santana knows that a lot of people wake up at 7a.m. and tune in and that's why she always says that. But Brittany still remembers how she used to find a text from Santana every day when she woke up, saying 'good morning' and it always put a smile on her face. And she just likes reliving that, no matter how pathetic it may sound to anyone. She just doesn't care.

"You're listening to Morning Dedication, basically your opportunity to dedicate whatever song you want to your loved ones. Or hated ones. So, today I promised to answer to five of your questions that you can ask me live on air. But I'll answer this one because a lot of people ask me on Twitter if I sing and the answer is 'no'. I don't sing. At least not anymore."

Brittany's smile drops and she swallows thickly when she hears how Santana's voice shifts from playful to sad. It wouldn't be noticeable to anybody else but Brittany knows that voice. She knows it. She always did. If burning passion had a sound, it would be Santana's voice. Especially when she sings. And Brittany knows that better than anyone else since she found herself on the receiving end of many songs Santana dedicated to her. Or at least she used to know… She wonders if it's her fault that Santana doesn't make the guitar let out erotic notes anymore, that she doesn't sing her heart out with that captivating and beautiful voice.

"Are we ready for the first listener?"

"Hello?"

"Hi! What's your name?"

"Hi, Santana! I'm Amanda. Sometimes you tell us what International day it is and I was wondering if you could do that every day? And also tell us what day is today?"

"Well, ok. I think I can do that. Today is the International lost sock memorial day. If you do your laundry and after that you can pair all your socks then you're an admirable person and I'd like to know your secret." Brittany chuckles and shakes her head.

"Or you're Quinn Fabray." She whispers to herself. She hasn't seen Quinn in five years but she's pretty sure her old friend is still the definition of neatness. She wonders if Santana and Quinn are still friends. Maybe they are. Or maybe Santana doesn't want anyone from her past around her. Yes, probably that.

It makes Brittany wonder if it's unfair that she listens to Santana's show every morning, when Santana probably doesn't want her to. Sometimes she feels like she's invading Santana's life by doing that, especially since she never tried to contact her in five years. But then she remembers that Santana didn't try to contact her either. And she was the one who left. Okay, maybe Brittany pushed her. But Santana still left.

She decides that it doesn't matter though. It's not like Santana knows that she's listening to her and it's not like she's going to see her ever again. Because she's pretty sure Santana doesn't want that. She's pretty sure that she doesn't want to either. Sometimes she blames herself for that and other times she blames Santana. She knows though, that by subjecting herself into this sweet torture, that is keeping up with Santana's life, she only hurts her own self.

A.N.: This is the prologue of a story that I hope will be short but knowing me, it's probably not going to be. But that's only if you'd like me to continue with this...?