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010, bar fight

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BAR FIGHT
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One Month Later -- Resuming the Sekai Taikai

                   It had taken everything Santana had—every ounce of patience, every sharp word, and every late-night conversation—but she had finally convinced Nico to fight again.

At first, he had been stubborn. He still felt like he had something to prove, but the big fight at the tournament last time had left a bruise deeper than any physical wound. He claimed he was done, that there was no point. But Santana had known better. She knew Nico better than he knew himself sometimes. And no matter how much he tried to deny it, the fire in him wasn't out.

So she had pushed. Hard.

And now, here they were. The Sekai Taikai was back on the table. The tournament was resuming, and Red Fury wasn't just coming back—they were coming back stronger than ever.

The small Red Fury gym was filled with the sounds of movement, heavy breathing, and the occasional sharp impact of fists and feet meeting protective pads. Santana stood in the middle of the mats, her arms crossed as she watched the two fighters in front of her.

"Alright, focus!" she called out, stepping forward. "Elena, strike first!"

Elena didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, her form precise as she aimed a sharp jab at Nico's shoulder. He blocked, countering with a quick sweep that forced her to backstep. They moved fluidly, like two opposing forces clashing in perfect rhythm.

It wasn't a full-force fight, but neither of them were holding back too much either. This was about refining technique, learning how to anticipate each other's moves, and preparing for what was coming.

Elena was already good, but Zara was on a whole other level. And Santana knew that if Red Fury was going to have any chance at winning, they needed the best of the best.

No weak links.

"Keep your stance, Torres!" Santana barked as Elena dodged another strike. "Nico, stop hesitating!"

Nico gritted his teeth and lunged, forcing Elena to pivot sharply to the side. She was fast, but he had power. They were well-matched, but Santana needed more than well-matched.

She needed Elena to be extraordinary.

Elena spun on her heel, feinting left before delivering a controlled but sharp kick to Nico's side. He blocked it in time, but the impact still sent him sliding back a step. His expression flickered with something Santana recognized—pride, but also frustration.

Training next to his ex wasn't easy. She knew that. It was awkward, complicated, but there was no time for emotions to get in the way. The Sekai Taikai wasn't about personal history. It was about proving something. Winning something.

And Red Fury had something to prove.

"Again!" Santana ordered, stepping back, her eyes narrowing as she watched them reset.

Elena's breathing was steady. Nico rolled his shoulders back, already gearing up for another exchange.

The Sekai Taikai was resuming.

And this time, Red Fury wasn't just showing up.

They were coming to win.

Elena and Nico lay sprawled out on the mat, their chests rising and falling as they gasped for air. Sweat glistened on their skin, muscles aching from the relentless training session. Santana stood over them, arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor before she delivered a light but firm kick to each of their sides.

"Get up," she said flatly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Me hicieron trabajar más duro en Río." (they worked me harder in Rio)

Elena let out a breathless chuckle, rolling onto her side before sitting up, pressing a hand against her ribs. "Well, shit," she groaned. "I know you said these people are good, but how good? Because I feel like I can hear my ribs breathing."

Nico let out a dry laugh next to her, still lying flat on his back. "Yeah, no kidding," he muttered, draping an arm over his face.

Santana shook her head, amused but unimpressed. "They are good," she said simply, her tone carrying the weight of her expectations. "But five minutes is all you get. Drink some water, get your shit together—"

She stopped mid-sentence as the vibration in her pocket pulled her attention away. She reached into her jacket, pulling out her phone and glancing down at the screen. The name on the caller ID made her freeze for a fraction of a second.

Feng.

She swallowed, quickly masking any reaction as she cleared her throat. "Take your break," she said, already turning toward the back of the gym.

Nico and Elena barely acknowledged her departure, still too busy catching their breaths.

Santana made her way to her office, shutting the door behind her before leaning against the desk. She stared at the phone for a moment before finally answering.

"Feng," she said, her voice steady but laced with something unspoken.

Half a world away, deep in Hong Kong, Feng had been waiting for this moment just as much as she had.

Santana heard Feng's low chuckle through the phone, his voice smooth and warm despite the distance between them.

"Hello, how are you?" he asked, and she could practically hear the smirk in his tone.

She bit back her own smile, shaking her head slightly. "I am... great," she replied, fingers drumming against the desk. "Looks like we'll be fighting each other once again."

"I guess we are," Feng mused. "Can't wait."

His voice, his soft accent—it always had this effect on her, making her stomach flip just a little. She exhaled through her nose, pushing down whatever feelings were stirring inside her. Focus, Santana.

Meanwhile, out in the gym, Elena and Nico were still sprawled on the mats, their breathing finally slowing. Elena turned her head slightly, catching Nico's gaze, and he turned to meet her eyes. There was something there—something intense, something unspoken. Their bodies ached from training, but their eyes shimmered with something else entirely.

"So, is this Sekai Taikai all it's cracked up to be?" Elena finally asked, breaking the silence. "Can it change lives?"

Nico let out a breath, his chest still rising and falling heavily. He shrugged but also nodded, his expression unreadable. "So I've heard," he said simply.

Before either of them could say more, the door to the gym swung open, catching Nico's attention. He sat up immediately, his expression shifting as he spotted the figure in the doorway.

Mia.

Her face was unreadable, but there was a storm behind her eyes. Not quite anger, but something close to it.

"Mia?" Nico called out, his brows furrowing as Elena slowly sat up beside him.

Mia walked further in, her arms crossed as she looked between them. Her gaze lingered on Elena for a moment before flicking back to Nico.

"Well, well, well," Mia finally said, her voice light but not entirely playful. "I see you're going to the Sekai Taikai... and she's the new female captain."

There was no venom in her words, no outright animosity—but there was something there, something simmering beneath the surface.

Elena raised a brow, glancing at Nico before looking back at Mia. "Is that a problem?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Mia let out a breath, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That depends," she said, crossing her arms tighter. "Because we can make it a problem."

Mia's words hung in the air, thick with tension.

Elena's brows shot up as she glanced at Nico before stepping forward, her stance shifting. "Excuse me?" she questioned, her tone sharp.

Mia scoffed, her expression twisting with something unreadable. "I don't excuse bitches like you," she spat before lunging forward, her palm connecting with Elena's face in a sharp slap.

The sound echoed through the gym.

Nico's eyes widened as Elena's head snapped to the side, her jaw clenching. Before Elena could react, Nico quickly stepped between them, placing a hand on Mia's shoulder and pushing her back slightly.

"What is wrong with you?!" Nico shouted, frustration laced in his voice.

Elena touched her cheek, the sting of Mia's slap igniting a fire behind her eyes. She scoffed, her jaw tightening as she stared at the other girl with pure fury. "The bitch is crazy! Who the hell is she?" she snapped, shifting her weight like she was ready to swing back.

Mia's glare never wavered as she lifted her chin. "His girlfriend," she declared.

Elena blinked, her rage momentarily replaced with shock. "You have a girlfriend?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.

Nico groaned, running a hand down his face before turning to her. "No. No, no, no," he said firmly, shaking his head before spinning back to Mia. "Like you said, she's crazy," he told Elena before looking directly at Mia. "We slept around a few times, Mia. That doesn't mean we're dating."

Mia's expression faltered for a split second before she masked it with anger. "You didn't seem to mind when you were in my bed," she shot back.

Nico clenched his jaw. "You knew what this was," he stated, his tone harder now.

Elena crossed her arms, letting out a dry laugh. "Ohhh, so you're one of those," she mused, her voice laced with mock amusement. "Well, guess what, sweetheart? You don't own him. And if you ever put your hands on me again, I won't be so nice next time."

Mia stepped forward, her nostrils flaring. "Try me."

"Don't mind if I do," Elena mumbled under her breath, her patience snapping like a brittle twig.

Before Nico could stop her, she shoved past him with force and grabbed Mia by the neck. Mia barely had time to react before Elena yanked her forward and drove her knee straight into her face. A sickening crack echoed through the gym as Mia collapsed onto the mat, blood already dripping from her nose.

"Guys, stop! Stop!" Nico shouted, his voice laced with panic. But Elena wasn't done.

Mia groaned, dazed, but still had the audacity to glare up at Elena. That was her mistake.

Elena shoved Nico aside when he tried to intervene and latched onto Mia's hair, dragging her across the gym floor like a ragdoll. "Tú jodiste con el equivocado," (you fucked with the wrong one) Elena seethed, her accent thick with rage.

Mia shrieked as Elena kicked her in the stomach once, twice—each impact drawing a pained groan from the girl beneath her.

Nico cursed under his breath and turned on his heel, sprinting toward the back of the gym. He nearly crashed into Santana, who was just hanging up her phone, a small, satisfied smile lingering on her face.

"Santana! Stop smiling—Elena is about to kill Mia!"

Santana's expression immediately shifted, her brows furrowing as she registered his words. "What?"

Without waiting for an answer, she stormed out of the office, Nico hot on her heels.

The moment she stepped back into the gym, she saw it—Elena straddling Mia, fists clenched, Spanish curses spilling from her lips like venom. Mia, battered and struggling, still had defiance in her eyes, but she was losing the battle.

"Elena, basta!" Santana's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

Nico rushed to grab Elena's arm, but she shoved him off again, her adrenaline too high to listen. "No, Nico! This bitch thinks she can put her hands on me and just walk away like nothing happened!"

"Yeah, well, you made your point!" Santana said, stepping between them and forcing Elena back. "Mia's not worth it!"

Elena's chest heaved as she glared down at Mia, who groaned, clutching her ribs. Santana turned her gaze toward the bloodied girl. "And you," she said, voice low and full of warning. "You came in here looking for a fight. You got one. Now get your ass up and get the hell out before I let her finish what she started."

Mia shot her a hateful glare but knew better than to challenge Santana. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and stumbled to her feet, her whole body trembling with pain and humiliation.

"This isn't over," Mia muttered, her voice thick with rage.

"Yeah, yeah, save it," Nico scoffed, running a hand down his face. "Just go, Mia."

Mia turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The gym was silent for a moment, only the sound of Elena's heavy breathing filling the space. Santana let out a deep sigh and shook her head. "Damn, chica. I leave for two minutes, and you're out here committing murder."

Elena huffed, running a hand through her hair as she stepped back. "She started it," she muttered.

Santana smirked. "Yeah, and you sure as hell finished it." She patted Elena on the back.

Santana exhaled and clapped her hands together. "Alright, enough drama for today. Elena, take a walk, cool off. Nico, get back to training."

Elena rolled her shoulders, her knuckles still tingling from the fight. "Fine," she muttered before stalking off.

As she walked away, Santana shook her head again, watching her go. "Damn," she murmured under her breath. "That girl fights like she's got the diablo (devil) whispering in her ear."

Nico huffed, still trying to process everything that had just happened. Just as he turned to follow Elena, Santana reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Care to tell me what that was about?" Santana asked, raising a brow as she fixed him with an expectant look.

Nico opened his mouth, stammering over his words, trying to find an explanation that wouldn't make him sound like a complete idiot. "I—uh—Mia just—look, she's crazy, alright?" he finally said, rubbing the back of his neck. "And Elena... well, she doesn't take shit from anybody."

Santana crossed her arms, unconvinced. Before she could press him further, Nico smirked and tilted his head. "Care to tell me what that phone call was about?" he shot back, his grin widening as he saw the way Santana's expression twitched slightly.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes before putting a hand up in his face and giving him a light shove. "Goodbye," she said, turning him around and pushing him gently in the direction of the door.

Nico let out a chuckle as he walked away, shaking his head. "Fine, fine," he muttered, smirking as he made his way toward the locker room to check on Elena.

Santana watched him go, exhaling deeply before glancing down at her phone once more. Feng's voice still lingered in her mind, and despite the chaos that had just erupted, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

This tournament was about to get even more interesting.











                 Elena sat at the bar of the small diner, the comforting hum of music filling the air as the television in the corner played an old action movie. The scent of sizzling burgers and freshly brewed coffee made the place feel warm, familiar. She took a slow sip of her drink, letting the cool liquid soothe her still-heated temper.

Beside her, Nico chuckled, staring down at his fries with an amused smirk.

"What's so funny?" Elena asked, raising a brow as she placed her drink back down.

Nico shook his head, finally turning to look at her. His gaze flickered to the forming bruise on her cheek, and he winced slightly. "Just... Mia," he muttered. "I mean, you kicked her ass. But, uh... she did get you pretty good, though."

Elena scoffed, rolling her eyes as she took another sip. "Well, you should see the other guy," she quipped, the corner of her lips tilting upward in satisfaction.

Just then, the bell above the diner door jingled. Both Elena and Nico instinctively turned their heads toward the entrance, and their casual atmosphere immediately tensed.

Mia.

And she wasn't alone.

Flanking her were two others from Red Fury—Elijah, his sharp eyes scanning the diner, and Mariana, who leaned in slightly as she whispered something to Mia.

Mia's face was a mess. A deep purple bruise surrounded her left eye, her nose still red from where it had bled, and a cut marred her upper lip. Despite that, she held herself tall, her expression sharp as her gaze locked onto Elena.

Nico sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he muttered under his breath.

Elena merely smirked, swirling the straw in her drink before leaning back against the bar, cool and unbothered. "Well, well, well," she murmured. "Look what the cat dragged in."

The tension in the diner thickened like a storm brewing on the horizon. Nico exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he stood to his feet. His chair scraped against the floor, the sound cutting through the low hum of conversation around them. Elijah immediately stepped forward, squaring up to him, their faces mere inches apart.

Nico chuckled humorlessly. "Really? We doing this here?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. Without waiting for a response, he placed a hand on Elijah's chest and shoved him back just enough to step past him, his focus now locked on Mia.

"¡Mia, vete a casa!" (Mia, go home!) Nico barked, his patience worn thin. "This is getting old."

Mia scoffed, tilting her head with a wicked smirk. "Oh, please," she sneered. "This isn't about you anymore. This is about her, you coño estúpido." (stupid cunt) Her sharp gaze landed on Elena, who immediately stood up from her stool.

"Don't make me break that nose again," Elena taunted, her voice calm but deadly.

And then it all exploded.

Mia swung first, but Elena was already moving. She dodged to the side and countered with a punch aimed at Mia's already bruised face. Just as her fist connected, Mariana lunged, her own fist flying toward Elena's side. The impact made Elena stumble, but she quickly regained her footing, her eyes burning with fury.

Two against one.

"Oh, you bitches fight dirty," Elena growled, cracking her neck before launching herself at both of them.

Nico moved to break it up, but before he could, Elijah grabbed his arm, yanking him back.

"Not so fast," Elijah muttered.

Nico's expression darkened. In a fluid motion, he grabbed Elijah's wrist, yanking him forward before driving a sharp knee into his stomach. Elijah stumbled back, gasping, but quickly recovered, raising his fists.

Nico clenched his jaw and raised his own hands, squaring up.

Gasps and startled screams echoed throughout the diner as customers scrambled away from the brewing chaos. The waitress behind the counter yelled for them to stop, but no one was listening.

The fight was on.

Elena hit the chair hard but used the momentum to her advantage, pushing off with her hands and snapping her leg up into Mariana's chest. The impact sent Mariana stumbling back with a sharp gasp, and Elena was on her feet again in seconds.

She turned her focus back to Mia, throwing a flurry of punches. Mia dodged most of them, twisting and weaving, but she wasn't fast enough to avoid the last one—Elena's fist crashed into her jaw with brutal force.

Mia's head snapped to the side, and before she could recover, Elena seized the moment. She lifted her leg and brought it down hard on Mia's back, making her collapse with a painful grunt.

"No puedes vencerme, perra," Elena taunted, her breathing heavy.

But Mariana wasn't done.

With a burst of rage, Mariana rushed her, shoving Elena hard. She went flying backward into one of the booths, knocking over plates and silverware, sending them clattering to the floor. Gasps and yells filled the diner, but Elena barely noticed. She grabbed the nearest plate without hesitation and swung it, the ceramic dish crashing against Mariana's head with a crack.

Mariana stumbled, dazed, and Elena didn't waste a second. She spun around, her leg swinging high before connecting with Mariana's face. The force of the kick sent Mariana crashing to the ground, completely knocked out.

Meanwhile, Nico was handling Elijah with ease. He had grabbed him by the collar and, with a strong heave, slid him across the length of the bar. Plates, condiments, and glasses flew everywhere as Elijah crashed into the wall at the end of the counter.

Before he could recover, Nico was there, slamming a powerful kick into his stomach, making Elijah groan and double over.

That's when they heard it.

"¡Fuera! Now!"

The waitress's voice cut through the chaos, filled with anger and warning.

Elena and Nico locked eyes, adrenaline still surging through them.

"Time to go," Nico muttered.

Without a second thought, they bolted out of the diner, pushing past stunned customers. They ran through the streets, their feet pounding against the pavement, the cool evening air whipping against their faces.

They didn't stop until they reached a park, breathless and laughing, finally collapsing onto the soft grass.

The sky was painted in hues of gold and pink as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

Elena clutched her stomach, still laughing. "We're so banned from that diner."

Nico let out a breathless chuckle, staring up at the sky. "Worth it."

Elena turned her head, grinning at him. "Damn right."

Elena's laughter faded as she exhaled, still catching her breath. The rush of adrenaline was finally settling, leaving behind an odd sense of calm. She pushed herself up to her feet and, without hesitation, reached her hand down to Nico.

Nico looked up at her, a smirk still lingering on his lips as he grabbed her hand. Her grip was firm but warm, and as he pulled himself up, their hands lingered together, neither of them seeming to be in a hurry to let go.

For a moment, they just stood there, breathing in the cool evening air, the sounds of the city faint in the background. Then, Elena gently slid her hand away from his, tucking it into her pocket as she smiled.

"I should get going. It's late," she said, her voice softer than before.

Nico nodded, though he didn't really want to. "Yeah, uh, I should get going too."

Elena took a step back, her expression unreadable for a second before she turned and started walking away.

Nico watched her go, hands stuffed in his pockets, something twisting in his chest. Being around her was easy, even in the middle of chaos. And now, as she walked away, he suddenly hated the distance between them.

With a sigh, he finally turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction, already anticipating the next time they'd cross paths.








           The bar was dimly lit, the neon lights from the beer signs casting a soft glow over the wood-paneled walls. The sound of glasses clinking and low murmurs of conversation blended with the faint rock music playing from the speakers. Santana exhaled, setting her empty shot glass down on the table before signaling the bartender for another.

As she waited, someone slid into the seat next to her. She turned her head slightly, an awkward smile tugging at her lips before she looked back toward the TV mounted on the wall. The screen flashed with promotions for the Sekai Taikai tournament, and she found herself staring at the familiar faces of fighters she'd either trained with or fought against.

"Ah, you're that lady from the dojo 'round the corner," a smooth voice cut through the air.

Santana finally turned her gaze to the man seated across from her. He had a slight beard, sharp features, and dark eyes that carried a flicker of interest. The way he sipped his drink, watching her with an amused glint, made it clear he wasn't just here to chat.

"I am," Santana replied simply, her voice even as she shifted in her seat.

The man set his drink down, tilting his head slightly. "Got a name?"

"Santana," she answered before adding without hesitation, "but I'm not interested."

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he leaned back. "Not good at hiding my flirtations, huh?"

"Not at all," she said, finally meeting his gaze. Her brown eyes locked onto his, and for a moment—just a moment—she didn't look away.

Dominic Solares smirked. "Well, that's a shame," he mused, swirling the liquid in his glass. "Because I happen to be very persistent."

Santana huffed out a small, amused breath and shook her head, turning her attention back to the TV. But even as she tried to ignore him, she could feel his eyes still on her, studying her, waiting for her to slip—just a little.

And the worst part? She almost wanted to.

"Dominic."

The man next to her extended his hand, his dark eyes steady on hers. Santana hesitated, glancing at his outstretched palm before finally placing her own in his, giving a firm shake before quickly sliding her hand away.

"What are you doing in here? Blowing off steam?" he asked, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.

Santana cleared her throat, adjusting her jacket before reaching for her second shot. "Just wanted a drink. Have a big trip coming," she declared, tilting her head back and downing the liquor in one smooth motion.

Before she could set the glass back down, she felt it—cold liquid seeping down her back, followed by a sudden, forceful shove that sent her stumbling against the bar. She grunted, gripping the counter for balance before whipping around, her sharp gaze locking onto the culprits.

A man and a woman, both swaying slightly, giggled as they held onto each other. The music pulsed around them, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. They were clearly deep into their drinks, oblivious to the mess they had just made.

"¡Qué diablos!" (What the hell!) Santana muttered under her breath, quickly shrugging off her jacket, now soaked and clinging to her skin. She held it up, inspecting the damage with a deep scowl.

"Sorry, chica. It's a pretty ugly jacket anyway," the man slurred with a lazy laugh, his smirk widening as he staggered back.

Before Santana could react, he lost his balance again—this time sending the remnants of his drink splashing onto her shirt and pants. The cold liquid seeped into the fabric, making her gasp before her shock twisted into pure rage.

"You've got to be kidding me," she breathed, her jaw clenching.

The man blinked at her, still grinning like an idiot, until Santana shoved him and his equally wasted companion backward. They stumbled, their laughter cutting off as they finally seemed to realize they had messed with the wrong person.

"What the actual hell? Control your liquor, imbéciles," (dumbasses) she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the noise of the bar.

Dominic, still leaning against the booth, sipped his drink and smirked, watching the scene unfold with clear amusement. "Damn," he muttered, mostly to himself. "This just got interesting."

The woman's glass slipped from her fingers, shattering against the floor, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she reeled back and threw a wild punch at Santana.

Santana dodged easily, her reflexes sharp, and caught the woman's arm mid-swing. In one swift motion, she twisted it behind her back, forcing a sharp yelp from her opponent before driving her boot into her ass. The force sent the woman stumbling forward, crashing onto the floor a few feet away.

But before Santana could fully reset, a stinging impact struck her cheek, snapping her head to the side.

Her eyes widened in shock as she turned back just in time to see the man sneering at her, his hand still raised from the backhanded slap.

The moment was brief—Dominic didn't hesitate.

Glass shattered as Dominic slammed his drink against the man's head, the sharp crack of impact echoing through the bar. The man staggered, disoriented, but Dominic wasn't finished. He followed up with a brutal punch to the stomach—once, twice, three times—before shoving him to the ground.

The bar erupted with a mix of gasps, murmurs, and drunken cheers. Some patrons backed away, others leaned in, waiting to see what would happen next.

Before Dominic could go for another punch, Santana grabbed his arm. "Enough," she muttered, her voice firm but laced with something close to gratitude.

She could feel the heat of every pair of eyes in the bar. The air was thick with tension, the kind that usually came right before the cops showed up.

Grabbing her damp jacket off the stool, she shook her head, exhaling sharply. "Not worth it. Thank you, though," she added, glancing at Dominic.

He nodded, shaking out his hand as he exhaled.

"We should probably go before they call the cops," Santana said, her tone casual despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Dominic smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Good idea."

Without waiting, Santana grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the exit, weaving through the scattered crowd and stepping out into the cool night air. The moment they were outside, she finally noticed the streaks of red on his fingers.

"Oh, you're bleeding," she pointed out, nodding toward his hand.

Dominic lifted it slightly, inspecting the small cuts with an almost amused look. "Oh, that? I street fight a lot. Barely feel it," he shrugged.

Santana tilted her head, an impressed smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah?"

Dominic chuckled, flexing his fingers. "Yeah."

She nodded again, studying him for a beat longer before finally exhaling and draping her jacket over her arm. "Well... guess I owe you a drink."

Dominic grinned, wiping his hand on his jeans. "I'll hold you to that."


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authors note:

hmmm who's dominic .... 🥴 anywaysssss  i hope you guys enjoyed and next chapter feng and santana finally see each other again.... CANT WAIT. Thanks for reading!!!

thoughts? 💭

words 4970

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