"God Kurt! We are going to be late! Move your ass!" Santana moaned slamming the front door behind her. To be fair I had been standing staring at the framed picture on our kitchen wall for who knows how long taking a wander down memory lane, something I hadn't done in a while.

It had been almost five years to the day since we had moved into our apartment and it had been a struggle of blood, sweat and tears (ok so the tears were mostly mine) and I could honestly say life was good! I had been made a permanent member of the costume team at my job the year before, it was a lot more responsibility but I loved it and although it could be hard seeing that finished item on the stage was worth it. Santana on the other hand had been quite the success story. After only two years of being here she was spotted at one of her bar gigs bitching out a slightly 'handsy' male, she got offered recording studio time and had snapped it up in a heartbeat, things had went well and she had a very steady following a couple of hit songs and her pick of young single girls......some not so single too. Tonight was the closing night of her first tour, which had sold out in every venue and tonight was the very big finish before some time off and time to get her new album started. I had offered my services to design her stage costumes which involved a lot of leather and metal (It's a hot look or so she says) although I suppose I don't find anything attractive on her.

It was being held in this really trendy space in Manhattan which meant a lengthy commute for us still out in Bushwick. We had considered moving in to the city but in the end decided that this was home and the only place Santana could take any form of public transport without people recognising her. Come on would you believe it if you saw THE SANTANA LOPEZ on a train out in Bushwick? No I didn't think so.

"Hey!" a slap to the back of my styled hair broke me out of any thoughts I was having. "I said move your ass! There's fashionably late and then there is Kurt Hummel late....I can't be your kind of late! Not tonight!" she mumbled as she banged about in the living room placing her belongings into her essentials bag and strutting back over to me thrusting my coat in my face.

"Was everything okay at Mrs Benson's?" that was where Santana had been, across the hall at our beloved neighbours. She was a 75 year old widow with the most amazing collection of vintage designers in her wardrobe, I should know I snooped at her first tea party we were invited too.......Okay so 'tea party' is short for a drunken night with fabulously stylish pensioners. We didn't get home that night until 6 am.... Santana lost her bra. I lost my shoes. It was safe to say we loved our neighbour, every part of her five foot 3, purple haired body.

"Mrs B says not to worry! She will be fine....although a bit pissed she isn't getting tonight....AND if you call her even once she will pickle your little tinkle in a jar - I phrased that nicer FYI - and that she will see you tomorrow at 10!" I'm being bundled into my coat and shoved forcefully towards the door to put my boots on.

"Maybe I should just nip over before we lea-"

"No! I was just there she is fine and watching some zombie horror movie...." I stop dead in my tracks after my shoes are in place and gawk at her.

"That is what I'm worried about! What if...."

"Peachy! Stop! Tonight is taken care of! Let's go out have fun and celebrate the very successful best friend of yours! I hear her album went platinum!" she grins from ear to ear as I do a little shake.

"Yeah she's okay I guess...." Her hand collides with my head again "When she isn't beating me up...that could be domestic abuse you know..." I elbow her softly in the ribs as we walk out the door.

"Oh please don't think I don't hear you asking for it harder.....our walls aren't that thick!" I try to catch her but she's off towards the stairs leaving me to lock up behind us and I stop at the door opposite ours. "Hummel if you so much as touch that door I'll set you up with the barista down stairs..." she screams from the stair well. I sigh in defeat because he is by far the dullest person I have ever met, Kurt Hummel might be having no luck in the romance department but let me tell you I am not that desperate! I scurry towards the stairs to head out in to the street.

********************

"Santana last minute make-up check in five minutes!" an assistant screams through the door.

"Got it!" she screams hobbling around on one foot as she wiggles in to her very tight shorts. "God I hate this part I feel like I'm back in glee club fighting Berry's nostrils for a space in the mirror!" she groans as she succeeds in her task and starts pulling on her thigh high boots.

"Just be thankful that you didn't have to share a room with all those boys! Personal hygiene should never be an option!" I laugh from my place on the small sofa in the corner.

"That's why I appreciate living with you...although you can be almost as bad as Ber-"

"If you even finish that statement I will make you no special Sunday brunch!" I quirk my eyebrow at her, for a skinny girl Santana loves her food, especially my brunches. Before Santana can even back track a response my phone rings in my pocket.

"Oh the parental, what is he saying?" she comes to sit on my lap and look at the screen.

"You don't always have to call him that you know...." I open it up to see Dale's message.

Hi floppy! Hope everything is okay over there? France is beautiful and my tan is pretty epic.... Give my love to Satan tonight! We are devastated we're not there but know she will do fab xx

"Hey give it back!" I screech as Santana takes my phone, shaking her head as she types out a reply.

Daddy dearest we can survive a week without you and the beefcake you now call a husband...obviously I'm going to be a smash! And get a great bone before becoming a boring old married couple! Xx

"Here you go! What?" she looks at me confused as I snatch my phone back.

"Not all married couples are boring!" I argue as she gets up and looks in the mirror.

"Well we shall see when Dale and Jake get back then won't we?!" she shrugs doing a few turns before facing towards me. "Now tell me how fuckable I look?" she does a goofy pout with her hands on her hips.

"Extremely.... I mean if I was a lesbian or you were a man....." I stick my tongue out at her as I get up and head to the door. "Let's go lady! Your public waits..." I pull the door open as good as I imagine a novice butler would curtseying as she walks past me.

"God don't get too drunk before I finish up! An after party is lame if one half of the hosting team goes to bed.....unless..."

"I won't get drunk or laid I promise! Now go get even more beautiful! I love you!" I press a soft kiss to her lips and head up to my front spot in the crowd.

"Long time my little peachy!" she screams before being pounced on by her team of stylists.

As I walk back out through the maze of corridors to the front of stage I realise how many people have actually filed in while we were dancing around to Madonna in our underwear (okay I'll admit I don't quite know why the underwear part was essential but we were having fun). They were now milling around the area with a variety of banners and t-shirts, you can imagine the slogans I'm sure. It made me laugh a little if I'm honest, they were all here to see my best friend, the one who finishes the cereal and puts the box back, the one who drops her clothes all across the apartment floor, the one who has the second worse bed head I have ever seen in my life but here they all are screaming and yelling like she was anything but normal. Don't get me wrong she is talented and deserves every bit of fame she is getting but it's funny that they idolise her like she's inhuman, where as I see her as my plain old slightly psychotic friend.

********************

"Okay losers this is the last song of the evening!" yells for more go up around me and Santana smiles from her stool centre stage. The show has definitely been her biggest hit yet and I can't help the tears of pride that sting my eyes. "Well actually I have a very quick cover that I would like to sing first for you all!" shrieks that resemble cats blast through my ears. I notice her manager Kelsey look at me with confusion, Santana has obviously decided on one last impromptu performance as she summons out her guitarist and mumbles quietly in his ear a house light going down on to her as she pulls the microphone back up to her lips.

"This is a song that a lot of you will recognise and for me it symbolises my school years and most importantly my best friend ever.....Peachy!" oh shit. I can't believe her.... At least she didn't point me out or say my real name.... "Now before any one goes and spreads a relationship rumour about me.....I would like to clarify one thing.....Peachy is this good looking guy down here" oh now everyone is staring at me great. "And fellas he is single...." Wolf whistles go around as a light lands on me and I hide my face in my hands. I am going to die of humiliation or kill her either one is fine, unless the ground wants to open up and swallow me now.... "Peachy I want to say thank you for always laughing with me, drinking and dancing with me, suffering through hangovers with me and for always being there to lean on. Love you long time and this is for you...." The crowd begin to cheer as the guitar begins to play a few bars and I recognise it instantly. Really it's the only song she would sing to me.... Everyone is swaying and singing along, a few girls nearby keep staring at me and whispering to each other and I try my hardest no to cry. As the final part kicks in I give up and sob listening to her.

"And as the years go by, our friendship will never die. You're gonna see, it's our destiny......You've got a friend in me........You've got a friend in me......Yeah, you've got a friend in me!" as she pulls away from the mic I see her wipe a stray tear and form a love heart with her hands over her chest. I blow her a quick kiss before heading to the V.I.P bar for a drink sensing the groupies ready to pounce on me for information. Knowing very well Santana will sing at least three encore songs before wrapping up, plenty of time for a drink.

******************

It actually turned out as four encore numbers and as she began her last song of the night I decided I could have a second drink now without ending up drunk so I turned back to the bar realising my glass was empty.

"Can I have another? Please?" I shouted to the hunk heaving around barrels, leaning over just enough to grab a fancy cocktail stick (What they are cute!). Sitting actually at the bar in VIP was always a good call no one could approach you with the premise of buying you a drink and really, I was not in the mood for that tonight, its Santana's time to shine. It was almost always posers anyway.

"Mr Hummel your drink!" The attractive barman's words swirled in to my thoughts. I took a sip before smiling sweetly muttering my thanks which he replied to with a wink. Feeling flustered I turned around drink in hand to look around the crowded area.

As I sit in the crowded VIP area I notice three things, one after the other.....

1. The amount of men LITERALLY drooling over the current act on stage.

2. How many extra cherries the bar man has put in my Shirley Temple

3. Those delightfully disgusted looking hazel eyes aimed at the stage behind me...

I feel like I know them and that untamed hair......No they can't be....

But they are! Those eyes are connected to my former best friend, love of my life. Blaine. After five years, he is walking towards me, oh shit he's walking towards me! I try to get up and hide anywhere, but getting my foot stuck in the bar stool makes me crash to the ground. When I open my eyes he is hovering right above me smiling and I grimace feeling the cool liquid soak through my shirt.

"It is you!" that voice, slightly lower than I remember still has a comforting vibe after all this time.

"Hi!" is all my breathless voice allows me to say.