better with broken heels * [santana]

[stephanie waydell]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

The temperature was settling down a bit. After all, it was November now and all everyone was expecting was gusty winds and freezing temperatures. But this was maybe good weather for my first Cheerios practice. I walked away from the window and slipped on my uniform. It was brand new and didn't seem quite comfortable. I twirled around in it, copying other Cheerios I had seen around school. I glanced back at my clock and realized what time it was. Damn! I'm gonna be late! So pulling my hair back in a high pony and straightening out my skirt, I grabbed my bag and ran downstairs.

Getting there didn't take long, being that the school isn't too relatively far from my destination. Mom thought that it would be convenient and that she could just drop me off on her way to work. But somehow, knowing her, she completely forgets about my little life and goes off into her go-with-the-flow life. So I'm stuck, walking to practice. Today I didn't mind, though. If I was gonna get a short jog in on my way, so be it.

Just hope that I'm not the first there. Now that would be awkward. Even the last would be two. Just imaging being late for practice and what Coach Sylvester would do to me makes me want to puke. With that thought, I picked up the pace and started to approach the gates. Peering through the fences, I could see a few red and white uniformed cheerleaders, all doing synchronized stretches. A few were off to the side. I couldn't see Coach yet, unless she was hiding somewhere and waiting to pounce. I opened the gate and made my way to the bleachers. As I sat on the seat, I was still watching the Cheerios. Ugh, they're all like clones. I looked down for a moment and tied my shoes. And yet..I'm one of them now. And now that that is true, that means that I can definitely not be a loner this year. I've never quite been one, and don't count on being one ever. Unless my friendships backfire; but first I have to make some friendships. That's the hard part, getting friends.

I had to get someone to spill everything about everyone. Someone who wasn't clingy, and had an attitude like me. I wasn't gonna just go through everyone, shaking their hands, smiling at them like I like them, and become friends with them instantly. That would be a disaster. Then I thought again; I know just the person. If you want to make it near the top, why not be friends with the person on the top? Santana Lopez. I smiled, looking like an idiot probably, but at those few seconds, I didn't care. It was a brilliant plan; a win/win. I can get a friend, and not have to worry about introducing myself to every student. So I finished tying the last lace on my shoes and started to make my way over to the little clones. The uniform hugged my body and my skirt waved side to side as I walked. The idea was finally settling in. Out of the way, Miss Stephanie is here.





"speech"
thoughts

tagged. santana
count. 532
status. finished
clothes. cheerios uniform
comments. reply wheneverr =]
muse. 7/10
credit. pan @ caution2.0

[/justify]

[Santana Lopez]

I always prioritise Cheerios above everything. My schoolwork, my boyfriend, my family, my friends, Glee Club... although the last one is a given. Glee is just a little something extra at the end of the day, and a way to get in Coach Sylvester's good books. The inside info I can get her is priceless, and she knows that all too well. Brittany doesn't have the brains to know what will and won't help her - I know exactly when to listen. Mr Schue is hardly subtle, after all; he practically dangles the stuff I need to know in front of my face. It's no wonder the club's reputation has been on the rocks as often as it has.

It’s not like I loved singing or anything. Sure, I had a hell of a voice - better than Berry's any day of the week - but it was definitely just a hobby. It wasn't an obsession, like cheering was; if I lost my place on the Cheerios, even just for a week or a day, I'd be lost. My life would be officially over. All the popularity I worked so hard to obtain, all the guys I'd screwed to up my reputation just slightly, all the friends I'd stabbed in the back, it would all be for nothing. I'd go right back to Santana the dork, like I had been in Elementary School, and I would hate myself for it. I might even get fat. I shuddered at the thought, and began to concentrate on my stretches.

Most of the girls had arrived by this point, but I noticed the newbie was missing. What was her name again? It was something else beginning with S, I was sure. I remembered thinking she had a hot first initial. Sabrina? Selena? No, it was Stephanie, wasn't it? Continuing with my stretches, I mentally confirmed her as a Steph. If not, tough cookies, bitch, you're not important enough yet. You've got to work hard to be on a first-name basis with me. My only real friend was Brittany, not that I cared. One good friend is all you need - and me and Brittany were especially close... in more ways than one. She provided a really special service when I needed it, one that boys just can't fulfil.

When Stephanie finally arrived, I raised my eyebrows slightly. She actually looked pretty hot - her hair was pristine and her body was smokin'. She was almost as skinny as me, which isn't just a rarity; it’s unheard of. I smiled to myself. This girl obviously worked hard. If I wasn't careful, and if she could cheer well, she could turn into actual competition, something which I hadn't had since Quinn's scandal. Maybe I should keep her close for the time being - what was that saying? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Apparently there was truth in that somewhere.

As she was already headed in my direction, I decided to start straight away. "Hey," I called. "Newbie. Over here."

I smiled, attempting something sincere (although it tended to look forced).

"It's Stella, right?" I asked, deliberately getting her name wrong to remind her I was queen round here. She was already too confident for my liking. "First practise?"

I could feel the girls around me stare, amazed. I was never nice to anyone, especially new kids. No one said anything, to afraid of a snappy comeback and being utterly humiliated, but they'd gossip later, I knew. Well, bitches, guess what? Sometimes even Santana Lopez has got to play nice to get her way.

TAG: Stephanie
WORDS:

[/color] 601
MUSE:[/color] The Saturdays - Puppet
CLOTHING:[/color] Uniform
NOTES:[/color] Sorry its late, exams suck! (:
CREDIT:[/color] TILLY of caution 2.0.[/font][/left][/size]

[stephanie waydell]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

Was she reading my mind? I don't believe in coincidences, so she had something up her sleeve as well. And that's normal, everyone has their own agenda. As I got closer to the group, Santana appeared from the back. Damn. No wonder she's the head cheerleader. And it was true; I glanced for a second at the other Cheerios and noticed that they weren't all that pretty. Compared to her they were like little rodents; and she was the cat out to get them. Santana also had to be the skinniest on the team. And no thunder thighs? Wow, now that's a first for most of the girls I've met. And her hair? It had to be the tightest and neatest pony-tail I've ever seen. It looked like she spent hours on it but seemed like it only took a few seconds at the least.

Santana caught back my attention and called me over. I love how she calls me 'newbie'. And that's being sarcastic. But I don't blame her; in reality, it was true. From the moment mom told my whole family we were moving, that one word was in the bottom on my mind. I couldn't get it out even if I wanted it too. So I guess I have to get use to it. Might take a while, but shouldn't be that hard; or so I thought.

I picked up the pace of my walk until I was a few feet away from the Cheerio, getting a weird vibe. That's what gets me most of the time. Vibes, they screw me up. If it seems like they're clingy, or just plain awkward, in the other direction I go. You may think that's really rude, but hey, that's just the way I roll. After I stop walking she smiled and asked if my name was Stella. I grinned, getting what she was doing. She was playing me, which is completely normal for all captains to do; so I ignored the gesture. "Actually, it's Stephanie. You're close. Oh, but, uh, call me Steph. It's faster to call if I'm doing something wrong." I made a small chuckle, then threw my bag to the side.

I had completely forgotten about the remaining Cheerios behind Santana, all with puzzled looks on their faces. My eyebrows raised slightly as I noticed the silence. I broke it as soon as possible. "I know you're, Santana, right?" I somewhat mimicked her in a joking fashion. Then I turned it into a bit more serious mind-set. "Look, I'm not gonna come in here to try to steal your spotlight, if that's what you wanna call it. You're probably a hell of a lot better at cheerleading than me. So don't worry about it." The other Cheerios seemed to be frozen, watching anxiously at the next move. I swallowed at the stillness of it. I lowered my head a bit, than raised it high and spoke again. "Sorry, I was just getting that vibe from you there."




"speech"
thoughts

tagged. santana
count. 498
status. finished
clothes. cheerios uniform
comments. sorry that it's kinda short
muse. 7/10
credit. pan @ caution2.0

[/justify]

[Santana Lopez]

If nothing else, Stephanie knew how to play the game, whatever game that was. You could compare cheering to Snakes and Ladders, I guess - easy to get to the top, but one little slip up, and you’ve fallen right back down to the bottom. Or maybe it was more like chess; complex and awkward, with too many rules and pieces to really keep track of. And this girl, Steph, she was very definitely aware of rule number one: everyone has a hidden agenda. This was applicable especially to the head Cheerleaders (in other words, me), who would do anything to maintain their status and leadership. Hell, I'd joined the celibacy club just to stay at the top of the league, and then slept with the majority of the guys after our meetings.

I watched her glance around as she walked towards me, sizing everyone up. Thats right... drink them all in, girl. You're hotter. I'm hotter. Let's join forces. She'd noticed, for sure, that they were all actually pretty average looking; they were nothing on me, put it that way. My look wasn't just sexy as hell, it was practically effortless. Or, at least, that's how I made it seem - like I rolled out of bed looking perfect, ready to screw with the boy’s heads as well as simply screwing the boys.

I smiled at her responses. She was quick. “I’m sorry,” I said, too sweetly for it to be completely serious. “Steph it is. Although, if you’ve made it through Coach Sylvester’s inspections, I doubt you’ll put a foot wrong – or at least, I hope not.” My smile changed rapidly into a smirk - with any luck, that would be intimidating enough to make her nervous. However, Steph just tossed her bag aside, still confident.

Damn. This girl was really sure of herself – more so than any of the other losers on the team at that time. I looked around, staring down anyone who dared to look impressed by this girl. Steph would have to be taken down a peg or two, and fast. She was already making a stir among a few of my girls, and I could not have that. It was rare for a new cheerleader – for any cheerleader – to be so smart, so on it. I loathed that there was another girl on the Cheerio’s who knew exactly what she was doing, and I needed to make that plain.

“Yeah, I’m Santana,” I replied, focussing my attention back on Stephanie. Was she mocking me? I raised an eyebrow, but let it slide for now. Her next comment made me smile. “You couldn’t if you tried,” I said. “I’ve worked so much harder than you can even imagine getting to the top, and I ain’t letting go for anyone.” Truth be told, I was here sort of by default – once Quinn had been kicked off, it was a choice between me and Britt, and sweet as she was, she didn’t have the brains to hold down a team of cheerleaders. Especially when a few of them tried to manipulate her every chance they got.

When I realised that, I knew I needed to warn her off, now. I wasn’t putting my future as head in jeopardy, and if I had to break my stance to make that happen, so be it. “Listen up, newbie,” I said, my tone leaning towards threatening now. “I expect you to cheer hard and cheer good. I expect you to follow every little word I say without question and to the last detail. Until you’ve earned your place among us, you’re still in danger,” I threatened, taking a few steps towards her, crossing my arms, working my inner bitch. “Basically, you’re replaceable until you prove to me you’re special,” I finished.

As soon as my words had sunken in, and the girls around me had backed off (some of them must have a brain cell somewhere, then), I stuck out my hand. “If that’s clear, we’re friends as of now. If its not, get the hell away from me and be don’t expect to be on the team for too much longer.” I looked expectantly at her, my eyebrows raised slightly but overall my expression neutral again. If she took my hand now, she was on. If she didn’t, she would have hell to pay.

TAG: Stephanie
WORDS:

[/color] 727
MUSE:[/color] Taylor Swift
CLOTHING:[/color] Uniform
NOTES:[/color] Thats OK, I'm sorry mines longer than usual!
CREDIT:[/color] TILLY of caution 2.0.[/font][/left][/size]

[stephanie waydell]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

This girl was more of a bitch than I thought. Of course, that could be useful, right? It could also be a defense mechanism. Getting in peoples heads by making them nervous; insulting them, that's what make you feel like you have more power. Although you can feel slightly guilty after (maybe not for the ones you hate), it can be something that makes you feel better. Like medicine for sadness. But that's a sick life isn't it? Somehow I could never figure that out.

She apologized for his 'mistake', then spoke some more. I bit my lip while she spoke, sensing the coming of a breakdown. But she seemed sure of herself. And I'm not surprised. I've only spoken to her for a minute of two and I already have a sense of her personality. But there could also be another side of her I didn't see coming, so, who knows?

Her next response, sad to admit, scared me a bit. Santana's voice rung inside my ears, like they were being permanently embedded in my brain. Cool it girl. Don't get worked up. You won't get a fight from me. But from another point of view, I could see the past in her eyes. Not pain, just anger and frustration. Perhaps some jealousy? Whatever she did, it worked, obviously. Here she is, confident as ever, and giving me the welcome speech.

I tried to keep my cool, I really did. My insides were squirming; I seriously thought she was gonna bitch-slap me, or even punch me. Santana's voice turned more threatening. The next few phrases surprised me. Earned my place? Sure, why not? I can wait. I just better not be at the bottom, that's for sure. The head cheerleader has definitely made her point clear: You have to earn your way up. But don't make it to the way top, because she's the only top and you can't topple her. So don't even try, bitch. Once she finished speaking her piece, I took the chance and spoke back.


"Believe me, I know your law. You're on top, I have to earn my place, and I have to work hard. Fair enough." She replied immediately after my words, then summarized what I said even more. Special? Don't worry, I'll make that unmistakable. Special wasn't usually part of my vocabulary. I preferred to use the word unique. But I guess in this case it meant something entirely different. If you weren't good enough, you didn't deserve to be here. Santana extended her hand and asked for my final assurance that all was clear. That there was no mistake of what was going to happen. My neutral face turned into a slight smile. I shook her hand and said my final piece. Noticing that the others were backing away, but still close enough to hear, I spoke in a whisper loud enough that only Santana could hear. "As long as I get to knock down some girls and have some fun, I'm pretty sure you've made it clear."




"speech"
thoughts

tagged. santana
count. 503
status. finished
clothes. cheerios uniform
comments. rap it up i guess? or would you like to continue? if you have more dialogue in mind, go for it :]
muse. 8/10
credit. pan @ caution2.0

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