Disclaimer: The characters of Popular do not belong to me. They belong to, I suppose, pre-glee Ryan Murphy and a bunch of other people. Which is a shame.

A/N: So, for those of you who have jumped back to the first page to remind yourself what the heck this story is... hi! Long time no see. Really long time. Like, 5 years. Sorry about that. :/ But since you're here, I'll let you know that I've actually given this whole fic a facelift (or tried to - HOPEFULLY I caught all mistakes, but you know how that goes), because when I actually sat down and wrote the last chapter a couple of months ago, I refused to post it before I went through and tried to update this story so that it's closer to, well, how I write now. Hopefully the end result is a little better than it would have been 5 years ago. So to those of you who have had this on your follow list for years, I humbly and politely suggest a reread. To those of you who are new to this fic, disregard everything you've just read! :D I hope you enjoy this, and that it was at least somewhat worth the wait.

Balance. It's a fickle thing. One that Sam thinks a lot of people probably take for granted. She wonders if anyone else ever considers the ramifications that the removal of it would cause. Billions of people waking up one morning to find their entire world turned upside down and that they themselves are now incapable of doing something as simple as keeping themselves upright.

It's an odd thought, granted, but it's one that Sam finds herself returning to a lot lately.

"Hey Sam." She turns to find Brooke's eyes on her, pearly whites flashing between smiling lips. And all at once Sam feels everything rushing up to meet her. Her balance trips over the sudden erratic beating of her heart and she flounders.

"I, uh. Hi." Brooke breezes by her and opens the refrigerator door, grabbing a bottle of water. Dark eyes flutter closed for a second as she feels the blonde's body brush by inches from her own. Is acutely aware of how cold the metal of the sink is against the suddenly overheated skin of her back, slightly exposed beneath the hem of her t-shirt. They open again to see Brooke turning back to her and she tucks a few strands of blonde hair behind an ear before her eyes move up to find Sam's again.

And now gravity is being pulled through her like a lead thread, tugging and pulling and turning her stomach. Over and over again, as if it's trying to swim down into her legs in an effort to weight them. To keep her standing.

"I'll see you later?" Sam nods without a word and Brooke smiles once more before moving to ascend the staircase. Sam's eyes follow her as she goes, every inch of her aching with the strain needed to keep upright. To not simply slide along the front of the kitchen counters and sit, utterly unmoving, on cool tile.

It's a moment before Sam can breathe again. It's a little while longer before her balance returns to her and she can stop using the sink as a crutch.

Sam doesn't take balance for granted. Isn't lucky enough to be afforded the opportunity. Because every time Brooke is in the same room as her, every time she so much as looks at Sam it throws her balance off and she's falling. Again. Faster and harder, with every passing second, until Brooke leaves and Sam is left to hit the ground. Momentarily dazed and left to wait for the next time her balance deserts her. And she stumbles.