Glee 1. Model

**Title: **Do you want to see your future?

**Author: **DEMSDEMSDEMS (Evalita.)

**Fanfiction based upon Glee. I do not own Glee, characters belong to its owner. **

**Summary: **New Directions? It has been 5 years since each of the members walked to the Glee club room, or even performed together. They've been separated in their own lives, and they hadn't seen each other for a very long time. But something brought them together, again. Do you want to see their future?

**SANTANA'S POV.**

"Beautiful, my dear! Once again!" said Harry. Santana placed her arm right behind her gorgeous black hair, and striked a killer smirk on her cherry lips. "Oh, my god! Who's this girl? Who's this gorgeous Santana?" Harry clicked the shutter button upon his SLR Camera. The lens was adjusting as it was focused on Santana's posturized body. Santana could only smile, yet she enjoyed the set they were using today. She had never been invited to a real photo shoot with real scenery before. From her 4 years' experience in modeling, she only had been smiling here and posing there on a photo studio. That's why she had been in a pretty good mood since her agency sent her an e-mail for an infamous bikini magazine, for her to model in 5 pages fashion spread. A big stepping stone for her.

"Yes! We got it people!" Harry yelled. His fedora head was forming shadows upon his aviator sunglasses which matched his white shirt and knee length khaki shorts. Santana loved his suede sandals that he had put on, but the corals near the shore had forced him to take them off. She isn't sure, but she definitely knew she had a thing with guys who wore suede sandals, especially in beaches somewhere in Bali.

"That's a wrap, everyone!" Harry said in gleeful tone. He gave his camera to his assistant, and then she put the lens cap back to the expensive top notch camera. She carefully grabbed the camera with a thin fabric, afraid to scratch it with her new manicured nails. Of course that was one of thousands things that Santana had in mind since she landed on the beach.

"My darling!" Harry spread his arms for Santana. "Amazing photos!"

Santana grabbed a towel from one of Harry's assistants. Her two pieces blue bikini sure became a little bit dirt off after lying in seashore, changing poses for about an hour.

"I know, Harry." Santana puckered her lips for cheeks kisses in the air for Harry. She didn't want to touch anyone now. Not with her wet hair, and let-me-show-you-my-body bikini.

"You know, baby. Get dressed, okay?" Harry said to her as he grabbed a glass of icy lemonade from _another_ assistant of his. "After that, just relax and have fun until 7 pm. Because – " He paused as he glanced to Santana.

"I know the drills, Harry." She dried her hair with the wide turquoise towel.

"Nu, uh! Mon cher!" He cut. "You don't know what the great thing is tonight!"

Harry's accent is one of the things that Santana kept in mind. Even though he had been in America for half of his age, he could never release his tongue of accents.

"Dinner! With the head agency of Models World Wide!" Harry announced.

Santana opened her mouth. She could never believe what his photographer who had been shooting for her for the past 3 years. Models World Wide or MWW she prefers to call is one of the most prestigious modeling agencies in the world. They had been dealing with top models around the world. Probably back in the early days of modeling, Santana thought in a minute she could enter MWW. But, her dream crashed and burnt after she got kicked out from her first go-sees of a commercial and being told she needs to lose weights. Since then, she became this realistic girl who nearly diagnosed by Bulimia which she wasn't proud of.

"MWW?" Santana laughed in excitement. "Harry, how could you? Oh my God! Thank You!" She began to shake herself. "You don't have to thank me, baby." Harry smiled. "I showed them your portfolio and they were thrilled!"

Santana clapped her hands once, and she wrapped the towel around her body. "Okay, I'm going now!" She said in joy. "Oh my God! Harry! I still can't believe this!"

Harry could only laugh along with his neatly-shaved jaw bone. Santana wasn't afraid to get close with Harry. Because she knew, Harry was married to another man, and his husband was one of Santana's best friends too.

"Okay, thank you Harry!" She kissed Harry's cheek, and she began to run uphill of the sand's desert.

She was still smiling with her faded cherry lips. The trails of her straight hair were bouncing up and down as she moved her feet back to her resort room they had been provided for her.

Quickly, she spotted the brown mahogany door on a small tropical building which was a part of the resorts. She turned the golden handle and she made it to her room.

She can't still believe what's happening. Earlier this morning, she had landed in Indonesia, and 2 hours ago, she met the editor of the magazine, and later at 7 pm she would meet WMM. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow she'll be walking the runway of Milan.

Santana marched down to the huge rounded mirror of the dressing table and grabbed the warm towel to clean her make-ups.

_Santana Lopez._ She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her dazing eyes, her smexy lips, and her worth-to-die for cheek line to her jaw bone. Santana wasn't the girl she used to be. The years before her modeling career were the years she wasn't proud of. She was this girl that hated everyone; while everyone turned back hating her. But, soon she realized on her struggles to reach her career. To reach today. She remembers being locked in a janitor closet by other models on a go-see, and being sabotaged on her first runway walk. Amazingly, when she tries to talk to one of a model while doing make-ups and being something that she never thought about _friendly._ Her brain and instincts snapped and realized Karma exists. She gained some friends, true and real one. They smoked together and they went to clubs together.

"I just hate these girls, Santana." Said one of her model friend, Lindsay. "The newbies, with dreams upon their heads. Oh, fantasies!"

Santana took a sip of her drink. She knew Lindsay had been drinking a lot, more than the head agency had forbid them. "They just walked in the runway, while they thought they could do better than me!"

"Bitches, who cares?" Red haired Nicole came in. Nicole sat next to Lindsay. Santana was sure earlier today her hair was blond. Someone had dyed her hair for a photo shoot.

"Look, we're models! We all need personalities in our pictures! Otherwise, they would forget our name, and won't book us!" She demanded.

Santana could only nod. She understands Nicole and Lindsay are a year ahead of her. But they were all in the same age.

"I heard someone chippered in the photographers green room an hour ago." Nicole blurted. She usually the first one to talk something worthy.

"I heard a thing or two about me." Nicole grabbed a cigarette from her purse. She usually doesn't smoke. "So, you're into those now?" Santana asked. She surely remembers what Nicole had said on the first day they met. _I don't smoke_.

"Not until I heard they spoke about each of us." She lit her cigarette graciously. Santana could see worries on her eyes about the cigarettes. She put one on her mouth, and smokes coming out from her mouth and disgustingly, her nose.

"First try!" Lindsay raised her glass. Nicole was still coughing, while Santana couldn't help but laugh.

Nicole stuffed the end of her cigarette back into her mouth and tries to taste some.

"Come on, what stuffs they blurted?" Santana asked. "Are we in?"

Nicole could only smile from the corners of her lips. Her bob red haired looked amazing under the dimmed light. "The good news is, yes."

"Alright!" Lindsay raised her glass, and touched the edge of the glass to Santana's. Santana could only smirk. She was glad she made it through. She's now sure she's on the right track of reaching her dreams. No more doubts into modeling, no more worries, she just knew she would make it.

"The other good news is" Nicole blurted. "About me, first" She fondly smile.

"I heard what Harry, the photographer told to the other 2 woman, I have never seen, said while looking to our portfolios. _Nicole Huntings." _She faked Harry's accent. "_I think Nicole would make it to the industry, if she managed to be this naughty little sexy girl, you know like the 50s pin up girl_." Nicole laughed as she recap Harry's words.

"That's why you died your hair, while smoking?" "Exactly!" Nicole smacked her lips to response Santana's.

"And about you two, which one mommy should choose?" Nicole raised an eyebrow, pretending to be a naughty old woman. Lindsay giggled as she punched Nicole's arm.

"Lindsay! You are the chosen one!" Nicole pronounced.

"Stop it! I'm curious what they chatted about me!" Lindsay begged.

"Okay, as Harry said; _Lindsay the tall one? Yes, I love her I – don't – care attitude. When I look at her, I could sense this girl would go to a rock concert while screaming Ignorance to the air. I could see her as a supermodel if she maintained that attitude._ Similar enough?"

"That _is_ Lindsay!" Santana exclaimed. "Okay, enough with that, my turn!"

Lindsay could only smirk, she rolled her eyes. She's just this girl who would care less among the other two. She wasn't indecisive and amazingly could pack for a runway in New York for less than 20 minutes while Santana and Nicole took 2 hours.

"Ooh, Santana Lopez! Okay. This was exactly Harry said; - "

And what Nicole said for another 2 minutes later, shook Santana's mind. She could only listened to what Nicole said and didn't say anything. Later after the night, they went straight to each of their room, and both of Nicole and Lindsay was confused why she acted that differently. Even Nicole knocked her door in the middle of the night to ask 'Did I say something wrong?' but Santana could only shook her head while whispering 'No'.

"Goody two shoes girl." Santana looked at her expression by the mirror. She could never forget what Nicole had exactly said. Since then, she hadn't spoken anything to her girlfriends. All that she know was Nicole moved to Paris and a chief editor of a number 1 fashion magazine in the world loved her 50s attitude. Nicole also received an award for her appearance in a retro-themed movie. While, Lindsay... She did appear on some of the fashion spread. But, she is now married to an A-list rock star that stayed in her 90210 house, while designing some sketches for her grungy label.

While, Santana? Just received her first ticket to a dinner with WMM head chief. Indeed yes, she had been maintaining her goody-two-shoes girl attitude, and that's why she got along with Harry who gave her plenty of amazing opportunities in modeling world.

"Ms. Lopez?" Said a woman appearing from her door.

"Yes?" Santana sure she was the one who lend her the towel.

"This is a letter addressed to you. They arrived to our agency in New York, but we got them here." She said. "Thank you." Santana smiled to her. Harry's assistant soon walked out the door, she closed them back gently. Her mind wonders, _who send me this letter? _

She sure knows no photo shoot books were sent directly to the models, so this one must be personal.

_To: Santana Lopez_ was beautifully printed in front of the letter. It must've been invitation letter, she thought. She smiled as she saw the invitation. Probably one of her models colleagues is getting married or something. She sighed, and then she flicked the back of the letter to reveal a long writings. This one even more surprising than what Nicole had said. She closed her mouth in fear, as she read the words one by one.

_Dear, Santana Lopez._

_You were invited to the half decade event._

'_McKinley High Reunion.'_

_RSVP._


	2. JetSetter

**SAM'S POV.**

He looked at his own charming expression. Starting from his golden hair, his flickering hazel eyes, ending to his haute couture black masculine shoes. "Sam Evans, you made it again." He murmured to himself.

Soon, there was a knock on Evan's mahogany dressing room. It made an echo throughout the entire two histories of the room, while Sam realizing he had been there for about an hour.

"Mr. Evans." An older woman opened the door. A shorter version of his mother, he liked to call, appeared on the door. Zooey, his loyal and trustworthy maid showed up in different outfit she prefers to wear when she served the Evans. Apparently, she was dressed occasionally for the gathering.

"What is it, Zooey?" Sam is getting annoyed. He doesn't like to be intruded while picking an outfit in his closet manor. Even his younger sister, Stacy used to tease him as a teenage girl deciding dresses for their first date.

Sam could still hear the giggles and laughs from his sister. Even though Stacy's 10 years younger than Sam. He couldn't deny himself to be a great brother and a role model for his brown-eyed Stacy. He sighed, as he grabbed another tie. This one was plain dark blue.

"_You looked like Barbie! Deciding skirts to wear on her first date with Ken!" _

"Mr. Evans? Are you okay?" Zooey called Sam as he gazed through his own hallucination. He closed his eyelids for seconds, then opened it again as he let out some breath through his lungs.

"_But Barbie wouldn't pick that color, Sam. She loves Pink, a lot of pink!" _

"Mr. Evans?"

"Would you please be quiet!" Sam yelled. He didn't notice his voice would be as loud as it could be in his dressing room. The last word still echoed, as that second Zooey realized she had trembled upon Sam's emotional cliff. She started to look down, as her auburn French bun showed when he closed the door back in the previous position.

Sam looked back to his reflection upon the mirror. His throat was burning and his mouth was opened in unusual way. He hated this sort of moment. He didn't want to recap any memories he has. Since that accident, he destroyed every memorable actions he had on his sensory reflexes. Sam was just another vulnerable young man. As his mother told him on the funeral, People make mistakes, and we just move on as we forget things.

But Sam is not that type of person. He had known that and it was just on his natural habitat. But just after moments and tragedies, he put on a mask and charade it on his own pranks of parade.

"Sam?" A figure appeared, again – from the front door.

"Zooey, I told you before I-"With anger, he turned his head to the figure direction. She was stoned, her curls were perfectly formed into a high bun, with some purple feathers she had upon her magenta mask covered in pearls.

"Charlotte, I didn't know you – "

"Were coming?" Charlotte laughed gently. She put down her mask into her left arm, with her splashing silver purse. With her top-notch designer heels, she marched her way with noises upon the small details her heels have. "Sounds annoying, right? I shouldn't have worn this! I noticed a model worn them in the runway and I –"She stared down at her heels. Sam noticed she was close enough for his distance. He could smell the perfume she loved to wear every Saturday night they bumped each other at Sam's favorite drinking bar near his own apartment in New York. He knew he was obsessed with the perfume, or even the blonde goddess, Charlotte herself, he tried to buy the original handmade perfume from the designer and gave it to Charlotte on her birthday. Which she was gladly received, then gave a peck on Sam's lips texture before Anthony, Charlotte's boyfriend, who happened to be Sam's best friend, appeared behind Charlotte.

"No, it's okay. They're gorgeous, on you." He stared to Charlotte's ocean eyes. Sam's mind wanders; at times like this, in movies or even somewhere in Paris, when the room was perfect, the princess was wearing a Channel black mini dress and the prince had decided his perfect tie, they were both ready to give each other deadly kiss. Not until the knight showed up in armor, ready to battle with the prince death to death, blood to blood, mask with masks.

"Charlotte?" The voice came echoed towards the room. Anthony itself showed with his matching magenta mask with Charlotte. _Are you being girlfriends now, gay? _ Sam could only keep those thoughts in his mind. Anthony opened his mask, revealing his brown eyes to his long-time girlfriend, even before Sam had moved to New York. Way before The Evans became an instant jet-setter, and even close enough to the time where her sister had that Helicopter accident which paid her a soul.

"Anthony, I was telling Sam, not to forget his mask!" Charlotte excused. Sam was always mesmerized by Charlotte's crossing-fingers ability. Not to mention, Sam is now looking at her crossing fingers upwards his boyfriend.

Anthony could only raise his eyebrows. He seemed to buy everything that Charlotte mentioned. "Alright, cool." He said. "Hey, Sam. They're waiting for you."

Sam made a quick corner smile on his lips. As if it were seconds, Anthony wasn't paying attention that it was absurdly forced. He soon offered a hand to Charlotte, within second his girlfriend walked her way back to him.

"I heard they hired a band, I hope they're not the cheap downtowns wannabes." Laugh Charlotte.

Sam was staring hopelessly to the door. Anthony's hand on Charlotte's back, as Charlotte laughed with carelessly to Anthony. What was Sam thinking? They were perfect for each other, while Sam should've been supportive to his best buddy.

But Sam's doubts were faded away, as Charlotte turned her eyes back on Sam's as she whispered _I'll be back for you._

"Ah, Sam. There you are." Mrs. Evans called Sam as he entered the Evan's gigantic living room. The room was beautifully decorated. Chandeliers here and there, alongside with waiters carrying wine over there and over here. Sam also noticed they had put upon a faux little fountain with little angels on the corners in the middle of the room, which stole the guests' attention.

Mrs. Evans was anxious in the middle of a sea of guests. Sam could spot her in her Orchid long flowy dress which she had never worn before. She's just another high-class woman who's afraid to foul-played in front of the guests who determined their family's image. That was one of thousand reasons she put Stevie Evans for a boarding school somewhere in France. She thought Stevie should be brain-washed first from his trouble maker tendencies.

"Mark, this is my son, Sam Evans." She said proudly. A 5'6" figure shook Sam's hand in warmth. For Sam, he was just another typical Jet-setter who his mom liked to pretend to be. "He postponed his years at Stanford. He told me he's interested in Business. Just like his father." Her mother touched Sam's cheek. Responded by Sam only by smiling and laughing, or even frowning while copying her mother expressions. If he had a moment where he could yell, telling how he really felt, he would be swinging on the chandelier while telling Charlotte to run away with him. But once more, it only stays in his mind. "Yes, he's running his father's firm right now, but we're still managing some of the custodies." Her mother continues. Sam nodded as the bearded Mark figure smiled at him while sipping some of his wine.

But her mother was right though, Sam had a great passion in continuing his father's business. As it grew stronger after his father passed away along with Stacy in the Helicopter accident.

A year after Sam finishes High School; The Evans was in the edge of a hook. They had complicated financial troubles with no money and no hope to fulfill their children education. But it was a brave thing to do for Mr. Evans. He convinced his family to move to New York. Yet before that, Mrs. Evans wasn't into the plan. They were on low budget and she was hoping Sam could support the foundation in the family by giving him a shot on the cheapest college they could afford. In the end, they moved to the city that never sleeps and by luck, Mr. Evans made it through a famous company within a week. Alongside with his friendly and loyal attitude, he was trusted by the man of the company and within years, they're riding the train of the Jet-set tracks. By a time spin, they were forced to live under the robe of lights and wines. They were introduced to some people which the Evans had only seen on TV, or even read on the newspapers, also they were living the top-notch apartment they could only dream of back in that American Family Motel they used to live. Until his father and sister accident, he had sworn to himself to continue his father steps and never looking back to the past. People die and go, but he moved on. That is one of thousands principles Sam had in mind.

"Yes, he also enjoys water polo. Is that right, Sam?" Her mother asked. Sam only nodded, he took a glass of wine from a waitress who walked pass him and finished the whole glass within a sip. Mrs. Evans gave him What-Have-You-Done look. She gave a shit about every details Sam had done.

"I'm sorry, Sam. You must've been thirsty." She raised her tone. "That water polo competition must be devastating! I must say especially after winning the college tournament."

Mark and some guests Sam had barely known mouthed Ah; they were at least impressed about what her mother had bragged them about.

Sam once asked his mother to stop bragging about what he had achieved. But his mother just responded by "It's not bragging, if it's true."

From across the room, in front of Sam's bedroom door, Charlotte was waving at him. She soon entered Sam's bedroom. Apparently, her boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

"Pardon me, I have to go for a second." Sam blurted in the middle of her mother and the other guests' conversation. "Uh, my friend from the Tennis Club called me, we're going to talk about the outfits choices."

Soon, the rest of the people smiled to him. Mrs. Evans was also satisfied for Sam's attitude. At least he wasn't as trouble-maker as his little brother.

"I didn't know you're into James Cameron?" Charlotte laughed while holding a DVD of Avatar.

"It was my old obsession." Sam said as he approached Charlotte. He grabbed the DVD then looked at the cover of his all-time favorite movie back when he was 17.

He put the DVD back into his movie shelf and stared deeply at Charlotte's eyes.

"You looked beautiful tonight." He caressed Charlotte's cheek. Then again, at second attempt, he's trying to kiss Charlotte's kissable lips.

"Sam." His lips are just a few inch in front of hers. "Sam, I couldn't do this, okay?"

Charlotte walked pass Sam's figure. The dimmed light of Sam's bedroom made her hair looked terrific under the lights that were reflected from Sam's gigantic window facing The Times Square.

"What's wrong Charlotte?" Sam rushed to the figure that's now approaching to the door.

"I can't do it anymore, Sam. I just, can't!"

Sam was terrified. He had thought of the days that Charlotte would do this sort of action, but he would never thought about how bad it felt.

"Why?" Sam asked.

Charlotte looked down. She wasn't the Charlotte Sam used to see anymore. She was the Charlotte who threw Sam off his Yes/No cliff. But the time was she threw Sam to the cliff of rejection.

"I can explain that." Anthony showed up from the door. For a second, Sam could hear the jazz version of Rolling in the Deep.

"Look, Sam." Said Anthony as he closed the door. His right hand placed on Charlotte's waist line. He had his tuxedo off. Sam wonders where he had them off, or even how?

"I know this must be hard for you, knowing you still had feelings for Charlotte but." He closed his mouth.

"Let me do this, okay?" Charlotte spoke in.

Sam was just staring at this two figure inside his bedroom. Against him both, that must be hard.

"Anthony proposed me earlier." Charlotte turned her eyes to Sam's. "And, I said yes."

Sam was torn apart.

"Look, man. Let's go out and have drink downstairs, shall we?"

"Just get out." Sam commanded.

"I don't know what to do, Sam – "

"Nope, just get out from here." Sam pointed his index finger towards the door.

Anthony threw his hands up on the air, soon he lead his fiancé to the door, right on that moment Sam could spot a blue ruby on Charlotte's finger.

A distant 'BAM' was heard as Anthony shut the door.

The disappointed golden haired Sam threw himself upon the California king-sized bed. He put on both of his hands up on his eyes, hoping this is just a nightmare and he could wake up in the next morning, finding Stacy and his father are packing for their next fishing trip on the Country's pond.

"Screw everything." He murmured.

He threw his hand back to his sides, as he found a stack of mails that Zooey must've put earlier before the gathering.

He grabbed a random mail, based on the texture. Sam's hand approached the most texturized on as he shoved it to his face.

"To Sam Evans. Hm, beautiful font." He whispered to himself.

The flickering lightning from outside shined the invitation letter he held upon his left hand.

Sam opened it by one flick, and beautiful carvings of words which was similar to the front one showed on the letter. He quickly sat down from his position, not believing every words the invitation had showed upon.

_Dear, Sam Evans._

_You were invited to the half decade event._

'_McKinley High Reunion.'_

_RSVP._


End file.

Glee, Friendship, Romance