Author: ipickquinn & backitup_baby
Word count: 5,412
Summary: Santana and Quinn are just best friends. Totally.
A/N: This fic was written by ipickquinn (as Quinn) and backitup_baby (as Santana)!
It was the last Sunday before school started and as Quinn sat in church with Santana’s head perched on her shoulder as it normally was on these mornings, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Next week Santana would be starting her senior year and it meant they only had a year left together before she went away for college and escaped Lima while Quinn was stuck there for another year. It never occurred to her before how having a best friend who was a year older would be a problem.
Ever since they met at Catholic school they had been inseparable and thought it would always be that way. Except now she knew that eventually they had to grow up, go to college and part ways. It was for that reason that she didn’t poke Santana constantly as the sermon went on, trying to wake her up. Once Santana was gone she would miss these mornings and for now she just wanted to enjoy it.
When the hell (oops, she probably shouldn’t be thinking that word, especially since they were in church) had she become so sentimental?
Santana sat up suddenly as the priest started going into the homily, startled by what she was hearing. Usually she actually liked this part best, because she thought their priest did a really good job of taking the scriptures into the 21st century and stuff, but he was talking about homosexuality and how it was a sin and this was something that hadn’t ever happened before. Sure, it wasn’t like they lived in the most liberal place (this was Lima, so... yeah), but this topic had never come up before in the 10 years or so that Santana and Quinn and their families had been going to this church, so what was going on?
“Is this really what he’s going to be talking about today?” Santana whispered into Quinn’s ear, wrinkling her nose a little.
Quinn shrugged lightly, though realized she could have normally shrugged since Santana’s head wasn’t there anymore. “I guess so,” she whispered back. She could detect the distaste in Santana’s voice and pretty much had the same sentiment.
While she was fully committed to her Catholicism practice, she couldn’t remember ever hearing the priest preach about this before. And after getting to actually know someone who was gay, like Kurt, it was hard not to think of him as the hate speech went on. It just seemed wrong.
Santana was beginning to feel kind of sick and she was really surprised by her reaction to this. Well, she’d spent a good portion of the previous school year hooking up with Brittany, which probably made her like, at least partially gay... but they had never actually been in a relationship so that didn’t fully count. But this was the church that she’d done practically every significant life milestone at, from elementary school to her first communion and getting confirmed and everything like that. Maybe somehow they had found out about her and Brittany and this was a specific message to her, but secretly.
“I need to get out of here,” she whispered then, turning her head more to look at Quinn dead-on. She was pleased to see that Quinn also looked pretty uncomfortable, too, so she added, “Want to come with? Like just until this is done.”
Quinn nodded then turned to look at her mother, who was sort of glaring at her. Probably for talking during church which, which was like the ultimate sin. “Sorry,” she mouthed to her then pointed to Santana and back to her stomach, as if trying to say that Santana wasn’t feeling well. Their families probably wouldn’t take it well that Quinn and Santana were just skipping out because they didn’t want to listen to the priest. Getting an annoyed nod of approval from her mom, Quinn tapped Santana’s leg and pointed out, indicating they should go.
As they made their way out towards the lobby, Santana silently apologized to Jesús for leaving, then thanked Him for giving her parents who weren’t as crazy as Quinn’s. “Thanks,” she said then, kind of awkwardly, crossing her arms over her chest. “That was like. Not legit.”
Quinn led them over to the side and leaned against the wall, nervously pulling at the hem of her dress. “I know. That was... weird.”
Santana didn’t really know what else to say besides that. She didn’t really want to discuss this topic or anything, more than they already had (which hadn’t been much), so she settled for changing the subject. “Are you excited for school? It’ll be a good year, I like just have this feeling. Except don’t think you’re going to get Cheerios captain. You have like, the year after I graduate to get it back.”
Quinn was grateful that Santana changed the subject, but at first was a little sad thinking about how Santana would be graduating soon and leaving but then she smirked, letting her competitive nature take over. She crossed her arms as well and continued smirking. “I guess we’ll see what Coach Sylvester has to say about that.”
Santana merely rolled her eyes at this. “Oh we will see about that,” she said, smirking right back at Quinn. If she were being perfectly honest, though, she already had major Senioritis and the year hadn’t even started yet. She was planning on applying early decision and, with her actually good grades and the fact that she’d been captain when the Cheerios had most recently won Nationals and also the fact that being in glee club had been a secret resume-expanding blessing in disguise, she had to get in. And then she’d have all of the rest of the year to party. “It’ll be a good year,” she said again, smirking more. “Don’t get knocked up this time, cause we’re definitely going to need to party. Heads up and stuff.”
They just seemed to be mirroring each other, because Quinn rolled her eyes back at the pregnancy remark. It wasn’t as if Santana didn’t make these kinds of comments all the time after what happened, but they were getting a little old.
“Yeah, whatever. I’m off sex so I don’t see that happening.” Was she allowed to say stuff like that at church? Actually it was kind of legit because she was making the right choice. Jesus was probably patting her on the back. Feeling better about herself she just uncrossed her arms.
“Do you think it’s over yet?” Quinn asked, motioning back towards the chapel.
“Probably,” Santana said, following Quinn’s gesture with her eyes. “And you’re probably making the right choice and stuff.” Except you’re seriously missing out and you might as well just keep doing it since it’s not like your virginity is going to reappear.
Quinn just gave a noncommittal shrug before reaching out for Santana’s hand as she led them back into the chapel. They would be lining up for communion soon, so luckily mass was almost over.
Santana wordlessly followed Quinn back so they could catch the rest of mass. Their friendship had kind of always been like this, Quinn kind of in charge even though she was younger, and most of the time Santana alternated between being okay with it (she had Brittany to follow her around) and resenting Quinn for it. But most of the time it was just easier to go along with it, and she was really good at getting shit done for Quinn like slushying people and just generally taking care of business, so. Usually it worked out.
“Brunch afterwards?” she whispered once they were sitting back down next to their families.
Quinn nodded then focused on the rest of Mass. Not much was left so she figured she should give extra attention since they had run out earlier (even though that had been totally legit).
“This Mass has ended, go in the peace of Christ,” the priest said and after the closing hymn they finally made their way out.
“I don’t know why you always ask. We’ve been going to brunch after church for a long time,” Quinn said as they walked to the parking lot.
“Well sometimes it hasn’t worked out, like that one time that I was grounded and then that other time that I was grounded,” Santana said as she got into Quinn’s car. She was fully aware that her point made no sense but she was prepared to stand by it for as long as possible.
“Yeah, so really if brunch wasn’t going to work the conversation should be you telling me you’re grounded again, not you asking me if I can still go,” Quinn said as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Whatever,” Santana said, rolling her eyes. And then, because this had kind of been bothering her during today’s mass: “That bothered you, like, the weird sermon, I mean, right?”
Quinn glanced over at Santana then looked back at the road. “Yeah. It was messed up. Like, it’s kind of confusing that religion is supposed to be about love but there’s, like, a lot of hate in the bible. And people totally don’t choose to be like that. I don’t think Kurt would have picked that life if he knew he would get thrown in the dumpster every day,” she said, frowning slightly.
“It’s more like people reading in whatever they want to be there so they can like, use it to hate on people, which... I don’t know.” Santana was beginning to feel a little agitated again so she stared out the window, trying to focus on something else even though she’d been the one to bring up this topic.
“Assholes,” Quinn mumbled as they drove on. She and Santana might be bitches to people at school but that was totally different. They were quite diverse in their targets. So they were clearly much better than those ignorant people hating just because they needed someone to hate. Because obviously the world was so black and white.
It didn’t take much longer for them to get to the restaurant and they entered the restaurant, getting a smile from the hostess they saw every week, before she led them to their usual booth in the corner.
Santana took a big sip from the coffee that appeared in front of her a few minutes after they sat down, hoping it’d calm her nerves. “Quinn,” she said then, before deciding that she didn’t need to do this. “Nevermind.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow over her juice (she wasn’t a coffee person) and finished her sip before setting the glass down. “What?”
Santana wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell Quinn about her and Brittany anymore. Like, they were best friends, and maybe forever ago they had promised to tell each other everything and stuff, but obviously that hadn’t worked out so well when they’d gotten older, what with Quinn totally hooking up with Santana’s boyfriend, or had they broken up before that happened? Puck wasn’t actually sure on that point. So there had been that and Santana hooking up with Finn, which was maybe to get back at Quinn for getting knocked up, except that Santana had been smart about breaking girl code and like, had used protection. So maybe Santana didn’t need to tell her about Brittany, except that they had been in a fight for half of the last year because they didn’t tell each other about things... But was it really relevant to their friendship?
“You’re going to miss me when I’m gone, right?” she said instead, just to make sure.
“Of course I am. Don’t be stupid. Like, we’ve known each other forever. You’re like, my best friend and stuff,” she said, drinking more juice to hide the fact that she might be getting a little emotional about the whole situation.
Santana tried not to smile. “Even when I was calling you tubbers?”
“Yeah well you’re kind of a bitch sometimes but so am I so it just evens out. Or something,” Quinn said, trying not to grimace. She totally wasn’t tubbers anymore and that name just needed to go away.
“I just wanted to make sure,” Santana said as the waiter came over to check that they wanted the same thing that they always got. She thought for a little bit, then added a side of bacon to her usual order. Telling Quinn about her and Brittany was definitely not something to do while this random was standing in front of them. Except that they had had him as their waiter for like, the last year or so, so he wasn’t that random. But still. This was personal.
Deciding to follow Santana’s lead she ordered a side blueberry muffin then smiled at the waiter as he walked off. “Are you sure you’re not just fishing for compliments again? Don’t your morning pep talks in the mirror take care of that?”
“Shut up,” Santana said instantly, frowning a little. “Those are really important to me.”
Quinn just smirked. “Obviously. They’ve been a part of your daily routine for as long as I can remember.”
Santana ignored this. “I’m going to miss you too,” she said instead, looking up from her coffee and over at Quinn. “Probably a lot.”
All this talk of Santana leaving was really starting to depress Quinn so she shrugged slightly. “Thanks.” She paused for another drink of juice. “So do you know when the first party this year is? Probably after like, the first football game?”
“Yeah, I’m on it,” Santana said, then blurted (so she didn’t have a chance to pussy out on this), “Hey, so... Brittany and I kind of.” She lowered her voice. “Hooked up.”
“Oh cool,” Quinn said then paused to think about what she had just heard. “Wait. What?”
Santana studied the rim of her coffee mug, not really feeling like looking at Quinn right now. “Last year. A few times.” Had that been enough explanation?
“So you guys were together? How did I not know about this?” Quinn asked, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
“Uh, I’m pretty sure because I didn’t tell you?” Santana looked up at Quinn then.
“So like, no one knew about it then?” Quinn asked, still looking confused.
Quinn wasn’t going to like this part. ‘Well, Wheels and Mercedes and Tina and Kurt know... there was this phone call like, last December and Brittany told everyone. And Puck knows. Oh, and Finn kind of probably had a feeling about it, but he’s pretty stupid, so. He might not have figured it out.”
“He’s not stupid,” Quinn automatically defended. She sort of owed it to Finn from all the times she made him feel bad about himself. “But seriously, what the fuck. Like everyone knew but me? I thought I was your best friend.”
“It’s not like I wanted all those losers to know,” Santana said, pretty defensively. “But like. I’m sorry, okay?”
“So why did you wait so long to tell me? Are you two still together?” If they were she might be kind of pissed off because she had totally seen Brittany making out with someone last week and Santana shouldn’t be getting cheated on, even if Brittany didn’t realize what she was doing.
Santana paused and waited until their waiter, who’d just arrived with their food, left again. “No, we’re not, like... we were never together. Like, dating.” She wrinkled her nose a little at the thought of being in an actual relationship with a girl. Sex was like, an entirely different story. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess like...” She stalled a little, putting salt on her omelet and potatoes, before continuing. “I don’t know. I don’t really care what other people think of me but like. I care what you think.”
“So have you like, you know, with other girls or was it just Brittany?” Quinn could sort of understand them hooking up actually since Brittany kissed anything that moved, so it was a pretty legit choice for Santana if she was going to be with a girl. She obviously didn’t care about the whole gay thing, as if today in church hadn’t been enough evidence, but she didn’t like her best friend not telling her things. “Thanks. Um, by the way. I care what you think of me too,” she said before taking a bite of her eggs.
“Just Brittany,” Santana said, kind of disturbed by the thought of hooking up with any other girls. Sometimes she was still confused about the fact that the whole Brittany thing had even happened, even though apparently not confused enough to stop it from happening again and again. “And good to know.” She fell silent again then so she could actually begin to eat her food, then glanced up at Quinn again after a few minutes. “Are you going to eat your muffin? It’s like, just sitting there being ignored.”
Santana seemed to be done talking so Quinn just followed suit and quietly ate her breakfast until Santana broke the silence. She finished the bite of eggs she was on before looking across the table, an eyebrow raised. “I’m like saving it for my breakfast dessert. You have your own extra bacon to eat.”
“Yeah, but it’s like almost gone. Do you want to trade? I’ll like, give you the rest of the bacon for some of your muffin.” Santana thought that was fair.
“Why do you want my muffin so bad?” Quinn asked, frowning. If Santana wanted a muffin she should have ordered her own.
“I didn’t think that I wanted a muffin at the time but then I thought about it and now I think that I do, and your muffin looks good--” Santana then realized how dirty this conversation sounded so she shut up and drank her coffee instead. “Nevermind.”
Quinn gave Santana an indignant look when she suddenly stopped talking. “Is this some kind of stupid mind trick to make me give you my muffin. Here, just take the damn thing.” She slid the muffin across the table forcefully.
“No, what the fuck,” Santana said, although she wasn’t exactly about to turn down a gift muffin. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing, taking deep breaths all the while, because Quinn obviously didn’t get it. Well, that kind of was nothing new, seeing as Santana had always really enjoyed scandalizing Quinn with tales of her own personal exploits, but still. “Thanks for the muffin, though.”
“Yeah whatever,” Quinn grumbled as went back to eating the rest of her hash browns. Except she was really kind of annoyed now because seriously if Santana had wanted a muffin she should have just gotten her own. Fucking muffin thief.
Quinn really didn’t get it. Well, if she didn’t get it, then Santana was just going to amuse herself at Quinn’s expense. “I’m going to eat your muffin now,” she said then, conversationally. “This is going to be fun.”
Glaring across the table, Quinn took a sip of juice to stop herself from saying something overly bitchy. Once she had a moment to filter herself however, she said, “You don’t need to rub it in. Just eat the damn muffin and shut up.”
Santana bit her tongue to stop from laughing. “No, I’m going to do this really slowly right in front of you.”
“You’re a fucking bitch. I wouldn’t tease you as I ate your muffin,” Quinn snapped before she could remember to take a moment to filter herself. Fuck that shit.
“That’s actually really considerate,” Santana said, still trying hard not to laugh. “Do you want me to order a muffin so you can put your money where your mouth is?” Oh god, was she one-sided flirting with her best friend, like, directly after kind of maybe coming out to her?
“No I don’t want a fucking muffin. I’m not even hungry anymore,” Quinn said, practically throwing her fork down with a clatter. “Just finish eating my muffin so we can go.”
Santana broke the muffin in half, then took one and pushed the rest back towards Quinn. “Okay,” she said, feeling kind of triumphant, and went back to finishing her meal.
Quinn stubbornly ignored the muffin and waited until Santana appeared to be done eating before glaring at her. “Are you done now? Can we pay and go?”
“Yeah, I’m all set,” Santana said, still amused with herself. “I think it’s my turn to pay, right?”
“Yeah it’s your turn,” Quinn said before finishing her juice. She wiped her hands on her napkin before sliding out of the booth and turning back to look at Santana expectantly.
“Well, if you’re legit not going to eat this...” Santana reached out for the rest of the muffin and ate it as she put the right amount of bills on the table. “Okay, let’s go.”
Quinn giggled tipsily and grabbed onto Santana’s arm to stabilize herself. Even though the football team had lost their first game (as they would continue to lose the rest of the season) the after party was always fun.
Just as she was opening her mouth to say something, some idiot knocked into her from behind causing her to spill on herself. She whipped around and glared. “Watch where the fuck you’re going,” she snarled before turning back to Santana. “Come with me to clean this up?”
Santana would have answered in the affirmative, but she was too busy yelling at the asshole who had the nerve to get uppity at Quinn in response. “I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with here,” she said loudly, shoving the idiot (probably some freshman who still didn’t know that you did not mess with the Cheerio co-captains, let alone Santana Lopez in general) with the hand that was not helping Quinn get her drunken footing.
Quinn just laughed at Santana bitching out the stupid freshman though after a few minutes of amusement, grabbed Santana’s arm and began leading her off, cutting her off mid-sentence. “I totally would have let you go longer but it’s like getting sticky on my leg and that’s really gross.”
Santana grumbled a little, mostly in Spanish, but she let Quinn pull her into the first-floor bathroom of Matt Rutherford’s house, figuring she’d probably done enough. Besides, Quinn had a really good point. “Legit,” she said, taking the opportunity while they were in the bathroom to give herself a once-over in the mirror and smooth out the top of her Cheerio uniform. “You got this?”
“Yeah, luckily that idiot only had beer and not the punch. I can’t even imagine what Coach would have done if my uniform got stained,” Quinn said as she put a little soap on the washcloth she had retrieved from the cupboard. She had been to Matt’s house several times so she knew her away around fairly decent.
“So are you having fun and stuff?” She asked just as she was about finished cleaning up.
“Yeah, like, it’s a good party,” Santana said, giving her hair one last run-through before turning around to face Quinn, leaning a hand back onto the sink for stability. She was a good amount of drunk, she thought; just enough to give her a definite buzz, but she could still get words out and stuff in a coherent fashion. “Are you having fun? I told you it’d be better than last year. Everything is better than last year.” She neglected to mention the fact that Quinn’s ex and her sort-of-not-really ex were dating, because that bothered Santana for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. Brittany was totally breaking girl code by going out with Finn, though, so Santana could be upset about it on that level.
“Yeah, I am. Except it’s kind of awkward seeing... um, people,” Quinn said as she washed her hands and checked her appearance in the mirror. Now, Quinn knew that she was never getting back together with Finn and they worked better as friends (or whatever they were right now) but still to see him with Brittany was weird. And she tried not to be bothered by the fact that he downgraded to a different, way less cool, blonde.
Santana had moved a little to the side when Quinn stepped towards the sink, and she now realized that they were really, really close together. “Yeah, it is awkward,” she agreed, biting her lip a little as she felt this weird tightness in her chest all of a sudden.
After deeming herself to be hot (as always) Quinn moved to turn around and leave except Santana was really close. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I like miss something on my face or something?” She asked, slightly panicked.
Santana followed Quinn’s lead kind of gratefully and pretended that she was checking for something. “No, you’re good,” she said then, quickly, and forced herself to step backwards a little.
Quinn just raised her brow slightly but said thanks. “Well, like ready to go back out there then?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Santana said, stepping forward and around Quinn so she could get the door open. She couldn’t help but shake her head a little as she did, trying to get out that weird feeling that had just come over her. Plus, she and Quinn were just friends and it was almost like that awkward brunch with the muffin-eating (hehe) had never happened, so. “Here,” she added, holding her hand out so she didn’t lose Quinn in the crowd.
Not really noticing Santana’s odd behavior, Quinn took her friend’s hand and walked out of the bathroom with her. “Let’s go to the kitchen and get more drinks,” she said, though wasn’t sure if Santana could hear her over the loud music.
Santana nodded over her shoulder, then, once they were in the kitchen, turned to face Quinn in front of the drinks counter. “What do you want?” she asked, reaching for a beer herself.
Quinn looked around for that idiot freshman and once she knew she was safe from not being spilled on again, went over and got herself some punch. “I hope no one else spills on me. Because I will seriously kick their ass.”
“I’ll help,” Santana volunteered, as though there were any question of that. She took a long sip of her beer, then asked, “Why are you still holding my hand?” almost challengingly.
Quinn shrugged, wondering why Santana was making a big deal out of it. They held hands all the time. “I dunno, but there...” She pulled her hand back. “Sorry or whatever.”
“It’s cool,” Santana said, then had some more of her beer. “I was just wondering.” Maybe she didn’t actually need to drink this beer, and she’d promised Quinn she would lay off all the alcohol this year anyway, but it was tasty and she felt like she needed the courage. “Are you nervous?” she asked suddenly, reaching back and taking Quinn’s hand again.
“Why would holding your hand make me nervous? You’re being so weird,” Quinn said, raising an eyebrow again.
Santana smirked automatically, then smirked even more in an attempt to suppress the giggles that suddenly wanted to come out. “Do you want to play or not?”
Quinn definitely wasn’t going to back down or anything. She was stubborn, and who would know that better than her best friend? “Fine, let’s play then.”
One of Santana’s greatest pleasures in life was making her comparatively-innocent (well, minus the whole baby thing) best friend uncomfortable, so she dove right in and closed the distance between them, moving a leg in between Quinn’s. “Are you nervous?”
Since they had known each other since she started Catholic school in kindergarten, she was really comfortable with Santana. She just shrugged and lazily took a drink of punch with her free hand. “Nope.”
Santana had a little more of her beer, then set the bottle down on the counter behind Quinn. She hesitated only a little before working her now-free arm around Quinn’s waist, pulling her closer. “Are you nervous?” she said again, suddenly glad that it wasn’t Quinn asking her that.
“We’ve totally had hugs more scandalous than this,” Quinn said smirking. “So, no.”
“You can try,” Santana responded, with a little too much emphasis on that last word, “to make me nervous too, if you want,” she said, just to be fair (even though that made her nervous). She smirked back then, to cover it up. “Otherwise I feel like I’m just forcing you into shit and we don’t have a safeword.”
“What the fuck would we need a safeword for?” Quinn asked, not even phased by whatever Santana was doing, and moved her hand out of Santana’s to rest it on her waist instead.
Okay, so maybe it was just dawning on Santana that she was actually at a disadvantage here because she was the only one out of the two of them that actually kind of liked girls too. But it wasn’t like she was going to back down. “In case you start feeling... well, unsafe, I guess,” she said, leaning in closer but stopping before she actually kissed Quinn. Relax, Lopez, you got this.. “Are you nervous? We are kind of in a high traffic area at this party...”
“You’re not actually going to kiss me,” Quinn said, looking at Santana, mostly amused. And besides, if they were caught in a drunken kiss it’s not like it would hurt their reputation. It would just make them more legendary. So whatever. It wasn’t like it meant anything. That is if it happened, which Quinn was sure she wouldn’t.
Santana’s eyebrows raised a little. She was pretty sure that was a challenge. “Try me,” she said then, pulling Quinn in closer and kissing her. Usually Santana would have gone in for some more action after that, maybe with some tongue, but she wanted to make sure Quinn had time to get away if she wanted to, which she probably would want to.
Well what the hell, she actually did it, Quinn thought when Santana’s lips pressed to hers. She just stood there a few moments at first, a little shocked, but after that she slowly started kissing back. It was just a stupid kiss. They were best friends, it was just for fun. Right? Right.
It wasn’t exactly the first time that Santana had made out with another Cheerio at a post-game party, so she didn’t really care either if anyone found them. All the alcohol she’d drank was really going to her head now, though, and she was beginning to feel dizzy. It was definitely the alcohol. Not the fact that she was kissing her best friend. She leaned forward a little, temporarily off balance, and somehow wound up getting Quinn closer to her.
Quinn tightened her grip around Santana’s waist when she stumbled and broke their kiss. “Are you okay?” She tried not to be phased about how creepily natural that kiss had been and decided to focus on the level of drunkness her best friend was. “Maybe we should stop drinking.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Santana said almost immediately, confused by how her mouth felt weirdly lonely when it wasn’t on Quinn’s. “But, okay. You okay?” she added, meaning more than Quinn’s level of drunk.
“Yep, perfect,” Quinn said, retracting her hand from around Santana. “You’re not going to fall over, right?” She smirked.
Santana backed away from Quinn and nodded. “Yeah, I got this.”
“Okay, well good,” Quinn said as she wiped around her mouth, making sure none of her lip gloss was smudged. “Let’s go take over the iPod, this music sucks.”
Santana nodded again, glancing down at herself and smoothing out her Cheerio uniform. Once she was satisfied, she looked back up and held a hand out to Quinn again. “Okay, let’s go.”
Quinn accepted Santana’s hand and led her through the house, where things would go back to normal. They would be best friends who were there to take names and kick ass. Nothing more. That kiss was just part of a stupid game. With that in mind, Quinn entered the living room, a fierce look on her face.
“Who is in charge of the music? It’s terrible!” See, right back to normal.