[This is a oneshot involving an eating disorder; please don't read if you feel you will be triggered or affected. I personally haven't suffered from an eating disorder or known anyone who has, and I didn't do much research on this as it was just written on a whim. If there's anything that's seriously wrong or you think could have been put better, please let me know. The title is from Beautiful Disaster by Kelly Clarkson - I recommend the acoustic version if you haven't heard it before. Lyrics mentioned later in the fic are from Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think. :) - Charlotte.]

Monday.

Breakfast: small bowl of cereal, fruit juice.
Lunch: vegan ham and salad sandwich, slice of chocolate cake, coffee.
Dinner: vegetarian spaghetti bolognese, garlic bread and cola.

Tuesday.
Breakfast: low calorie natural yoghurt, banana, water.
Lunch: low calorie natural yoghurt, water
Dinner: small salad with no dressing, one slice of bread (unbuttered), water.

Wednesday.
Breakfast: banana smoothie.
Lunch: protein shake.
Dinner: small salad with no dressing, water.

Thursday.
Breakfast: banana, water.
Lunch: nothing, water.
Dinner: nothing, water.
Snacks: banana before bed.

Rachel Berry had always been confident about her body. Of course there was the moments of self doubt that every female faced, and mistakes she made. From nearly getting a nose job to dressing in a catsuit to impress a boy, she had done it. But Rachel knew that she looked fine and was healthy. Average weight for her height, glossy dark hair down her back and bright brown eyes. As a vegan, she was extremely uptight about the food she put into her body and always ate as healthily as she could. She allowed herself treats every now and again, and she never had issues with food. 2 months ago, that's what she'd tell you: "I'm perfectly healthy, thank you very much."

Saturday was the day of the audition. And it really was The Audition. Rachel was 23 and had just finished studying at NYADA with a degree in Musical Theatre; for her last year she had done a small, year long course in Performing Theatre, just to boost her resume. She had moved to New York straight after graduation. It had been hard to leave her friends behind, but she had Finn and Kurt with her. At the time, that is. A lot had changed since she was 18. Rachel and Finn had called off the engagement, only meaning for it to last until they were settled and secure. A scandal involving Rachel's roommate and a suspicious lipstick mark had ended the era of Finn. She still saw Kurt occasionally but he was often busy playing house with Blaine when he wasn't gracing the world with fabulous clothes and accessories.

Rachel was sure that this audition was going to be it. Her ticket out of being an extra or an understudy or running around backstage with props or coffee. Maria. There was a limited run revival of West Side Story coming to Broadway, and she was determined to get the role. She was Maria. There was nobody else who could even come close to being as good as she would. Nobody.

"Sorry, kid. There'll be other parts. I think Wicked are auditioning for more Munchkins, maybe you could try that?"

The line went dead. Rachel stared down at the cell phone in her hand in disbelief. She hadn't got the part? No, she had to have the part. She /needed/ it like she needed applause to live. How could she not have gotten it? Two days after the audition came the call. Rachel had got excited, certain that calling early meant she had it. She was wrong. Gritting her teeth, refusing to accept it, she stubbornly called back the casting director.

"Miss Berry, I'm sorry but-" the director began when he picked up, sounding exasperated.

"Why didn't I get the part?" Rachel cut in quickly, trying to keep the whining tone out of her voice. "I'm perfect for Maria, I was the best singer in there and it must be some huge misunderstanding! I can't not play Maria, it's my dream."

"Look, the girl we chose just fit the bill better. Maybe if you lost a couple pounds you could portray the character better. Please don't call back, and try that Wicked audition I said."

"But I-" she stopped as she heard the faint hum as he hung up.

"He hung up on me," she muttered in disbelief. "He hung up on me and I didn't get the part."

Rachel didn't think any more about what the director had said for the rest of the day. She worked her shift at the coffee shop down the road from her apartment, smiling and chatting with everyone that came in. She hadn't told anyone about the audition before hand: she had planned to make a huge, diva entrance and announce the good news of her starring role. So nobody asked why her smile didn't quite meet her eyes or why her laughter sounded forced. And when the tears sprang to her eyes when she remembered what she'd been told, everyone who noticed bought her story of her cat dying; how were they supposed to know that she didn't even have a cat? Rachel couldn't help feeling lost, with nobody to turn to. She would resolve that when she got home, she assured herself firmly.

Ben? No.
Karen? No.
Jess? Maybe...no, she got clingy.
Kurt? No, on vacation with Blaine, doing god-knows-what.
Tina? Maybe..no, don't want to bother her.
Stacey? No way.

Rachel stared down at the list in front of her, with the names of her friends scrawled down. She couldn't tell a single one of them about her pain. They either wouldn't understand, laugh at her or tell her to forget about it. She sighed and set down the notepad and pen. She would just have to deal with this herself.

After dinner and her evening pilates exercise, Rachel began to get ready for bed much earlier than usual. Instead of watching a lighthearted movie or writing a song, she felt too heartbroken to concentrate on anything. As she rubbed her deep cleansing moisturiser in, Rachel's thoughts drifted back to the phone call.

"Maybe if you lost a couple pounds you could portray the character better."

Maybe he was right. Quickly finishing up her facial routine and brushing her teeth, Rachel started to look around for her scales. After fishing them out, she stripped off to her underwear so the extra clothes wouldn't add weight on. Eyes trained on the little screen where her weight would appear, Rachel stepped onto the scales. A few seconds later and a figure appeared: 126lb. One hundred and twenty six pounds. Rachel bit her lip, trying to figure out whether that was a good weight or not. One intense Google spree later, Rachel was certain that she was a healthy weight for her 5'3" height and fell into bed with no further worries.

Tuesday. She couldn't stop herself from stepping on the scales again. She was just curious, she assured herself. Staring down at the little numbers, Rachel frowned in confusion. How had she put on a pound overnight? This just wasn't acceptable. Maybe the director was right. Splaying her fingers over her stomach, the brunette gently felt the soft layer of skin covering her abs. She could be thinner. Biting her lip, Rachel looked up at her reflection in the full length mirror. Slowly she sucked her stomach in, smiling softly to herself when she saw how much thinner she looked.

"I can do it," Rachel whispered to herself.

And once Rachel Berry went on a mission, not much could deter her.

Luckily she already had plenty of healthy, fresh food in the kitchen; after all, it's not like she ate burgers all day long. Rachel fished out the natural yoghurts she'd picked up the week before and gave a hiss of victory when she read 'low calorie' and 'fat free' on the label. Sitting at the kitchen table, spooning the yoghurt into her mouth and imagining all the roles coming her way when she slimmed down, Rachel was determined that she could do this.

Rachel would never admit it to herself, as someone who took immense pride in being in control of everything, but her plan soon spiralled out of control. Anyone could see how much she had changed since 2 months ago. Her now lifeless hair was always tied into a bun, intricately so to maintain the illusion that she was still put together. Make up did little to hide the dull skin stretched over sharp cheekbones and the dark bags under her eyes. Her clothes, even the ones she had never been able to fit into before, hung off her tiny frame and swamped her body. In short, she looked awful.

99lbs.

Rachel smiled smugly to herself as she saw the weight dip into double figures for the third time in as many days. She could keep this up, she could. She lightly ran her fingers down her rib cage, counting under her breath as she went along. Rachel smiled as she felt each one. She looked up into the full length mirror, the frame covered in hundreds of post it notes. In the mirror she could see her body clearly. Bones were visible where she previously hadn't known she had bones, muscle had wasted away in most places, but best of all, her stomach was completely flat. Rachel did a little victory dance as she stepped of the scales, freezing as she caught sight of what the brightly coloured post it notes said.

'Not skinny enough.'

'Lose a few pounds.'

'Be thinner and people will love you again.'

'No wonder Finn cheated on you, you're so fat.'

'She was skinnier.'

'There will always be someone more perfect, until you become that person.'

Each message was written in Rachel's neat handwriting with a small gold star sticker in the corner. They were to remind her of what she once was and what she wanted to become.

Perfection. That was her goal.

"W-what?" Rachel couldn't stop her body from shaking, the sobs threatening to snap her bones with the intensity.

"I'm sorry. You didn't get the part. Better luck next time, Miss Berry."

Another failed audition. Another role wrongly given to someone else. Another confirmation that she wasn't good enough. Another night of drinking only water and eating nothing.

Another.

Another.

Another.

A n o t h e r .

If there was one thing Rachel Barbara Berry didn't take very well, it was failure. All these failures were crashing down on her. Just like in high school, her self-esteem plummeted, insults buzzing around her brain like hungry wasps who wouldn't be satisfied until she cracked. Rachel was not one for cracking.

"That's it," she snapped, forcing herself up out of her chair quickly. She ignored the dizziness that accompanied the sharp movement, and purposefully strode towards her bedroom. Since the last call yesterday evening, Rachel had stayed curled up in her chair watching old movies and sipping her bottle of water, and trying to ignore the waves of hunger that crashed over her, over and over again. She pulled open her wardrobe doors and debated on a perfect outfit to make everyone stop and stare.

The brunette smoothed her hands down the front of her pale pink dress, cliched in at the waist with a thin white belt. The bottom part of the dress hung off her body, billowing out more due to her small waist. Her thin legs were clearly visible through the transparent tights, her legs disappearing into the brown boots that were her pride and joy; one of the very first items of Kurt's that became reality. With a twinge of guilt, she remembered how she hadn't seen Kurt since before her diet began. She wanted to put off meeting him again until she got down to her target weight. She couldn't wait to hear the compliments that would surely flood in.

Twenty minutes later, she had completed her make up routine (much more than she used to wear, to compensate for the bags and sharp lines that had appeared) and even straightened her hair. It wasn't as glossy as before, but Rachel still felt a thrill when she felt the familiar weight of her hair down her back. She had missed that. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder, Rachel walked out of her apartment with a clear goal in mind.

She was going to show the world exactly what they were missing.

Maybe going to a coffee shop a few blocks away wasn't the most public or extravagant place to show off, but it was a start.

"Hi, can I get a small black coffee please?" Rachel smiled at the male barista behind the counter, already certain of her order after debating the healthiest option whilst in line.

"Ok, would you like any of our cookies or muffins? Made fresh this morning," the barista replied, gesturing to the spread of cakes.

"No thanks," she replied, wrinkling her nose. "I'm on a diet." She smiled brightly at him, anticipating the compliments already.

"Really? You're really thin, you don't need to diet," he replied, smiling. The smile seemed a little tight and she was sure that compliments weren't usually accompanied with a worried tone and creased eyebrows.

Ignoring that, she simply smiled and took the coffee. Rachel handed over the cash and looked around for somewhere to sit.

"Rachel?"

Rachel hadn't heard that voice for two years, since she had visited the voice's owner for spring break. That voice, the one that broke and healed hearts everywhere.

"Rachel Berry?"

The brunette gripped the coffee cup harder before slowly turning around to face her.

Quinn.

She took a moment to take her in completely, the girl she had once hated but had grown to love and miss.

Quinn was still as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair had grown since the drastic cut in high school that she had maintained through college. Now it swept down to just below her shoulders, thick bangs crossing over her forehead. Those hazel eyes that had the sheen of someone who had seen more than they'd ever expected but had grown stronger for it. The pale pink lips that were turned up into a small, hopeful smile. She wore a yellow sundress down to her knees, black boots and a white cardigan; just like what she'd worn in junior and senior year of high school.

Which brought Rachel back to reality. Why was Quinn in New York? Last she knew, Quinn had graduated Yale and was a big journalist for some newspaper she never read. Not in New York.

"Rachel? Are you ok?" there came the blonde's soft voice again.

"Q-Quinn? What are you doing here?" Rachel asked, finally snapping out of it.

"Getting lunch," she smiled. "Give me a sec and we'll catch up."

Rachel nodded and snagged a little table for two in the corner of the shop, settling down content to just breath in the smell of coffee and think about Quinn. She had really missed her friend. Rachel had neglected everyone recently; Kurt, Blaine, her fathers, Quinn.

"So how have you been? I haven't seen you in forever," Quinn began, cutting her chicken salad sandwich into quarters as she spoke.

"Not bad. Auditioning like crazy, mainly," Rachel replied lightly, shrugging when she answered.

"Oh, got any good parts?" the blonde replied with a smile, looking genuinely interested.

"Nope." She popped the 'p' with a little shrug. "No parts at all, actually."

"Well, there's always more auditions, right?" Quinn encouraged, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Rachel had long since given up on lunch and barely even noticed the hunger anymore. It only came back when she was sad after failing another audition. Still, she eyed the sandwich curiously. She mentally pictured what would happen if she ordered a sandwich too. No, she couldn't risk putting on weight, she was down to nearly 90lbs now.

Rachel smiled and listened as Quinn talked about some reports she'd written recently, her boss who was always hard on her (Quinn suspected he had a crush on her but treated her badly to look more professional and keep it fair to everyone else.) and life in general. So far Rachel had been able to steer conversation away from her - something High School!Rachel wouldn't have even considered - or give vague answers. She felt guilty for not keeping in touch, but disappointed that she didn't have anything to show for it.

"Oh, it's getting pretty late," Quinn looked down at the watch on her slim wrist, tapping the clock face. "I have a meeting - one of the reasons I'm here actually-"

"Yeah, you never actually told me why you're here in the Big Apple, Miss Fabray," Rachel replied jokingly, raising her eyebrow.

"Well we got talking about Tina's tap dance school, and then Klaine's wedding, and just got distracted," she replied, smiling.

"Well? You going to tell me now or dash off never to be seen again?" the brunette returned, laughing softly.

"Hmm...just a bunch of meetings and things. We're thinking of having an office here, moving from Florida; more business here. Plus, I need some new material, so, it all just led me here," Quinn finished with a small smile and a shrug.

"Led you straight to me, of course," Rachel giggled, tossing her hair and reminding them both of her former obnoxious self.

"Of course," Quinn replied quietly, a soft smile on her face as she looked at Rachel. "I really do have to go, but I'll see you soon?"

"Yes, drop by sometime. Do you still have my address?"

"Obviously," the blonde smirked and raised a teasing eyebrow. Quinn stood up, gathering up her bag before turning to Rachel.

Rachel stood to face Quinn and shyly opened her arms for a hug. Quinn laughed, that high tinkling laugh that she loved, and hugged her tightly. Rachel didn't even think about how bony she must feel, or how soft Quinn's skin was. All she could think was Quinn.

"I'll see you soon, babe, I promise," Quinn whispered, gently pressing her lips to Rachel's cheek before smiling, turning on her heel and leaving the thin brunette in a cloud of perfume and a lipstick stain on her cheek.

Her stomach growled.

She knew she shouldn't have eaten that. The salad was fine, but adding tofu on the side was stupid. Stupidstupid/stupid/. Rachel heaved again, vile remains of food making their way into the toilet. She groggily raised her hand up to flush the toilet, feeling emptier than she had for a while. She shot a glance at the discarded scales, trying to erase the numbers from her mind. The girl looked down at her body, covered in only underwear after weighing herself, and fought back tears.

Rachel brushed her teeth furiously, feeling disgusted. She spat it out, lathered up the toothbrush again, brushed and repeated. Ten minutes later she was finally satisfied. Rachel looked into the bathroom mirror, tears springing to her eyes. There was a faint pink mark on her cheek, undoubtedly from Quinn. Shaking fingers reached up to trace the mark, her breath hitching. She wasn't even aware that she was crying until the tears clouded her vision and her whole body shook. Rachel grasped the edges of the sink, staring into her reflection, desperate to find any trace of her former self in her features. She found none.

"Who am I?" she whispered between sobs.

Rachel searched her face again, brown eyes growing terrified as she stared into the strangers matching eyes. She lost her grip on the sink and fell to the floor.

Even when she woke up hours later, she couldn't find it in her to move.

Pounding. Was it from her head or the door?

"Rachel! It's Quinn, are you in?"

Pounding.

"R-Rachel?" Quinn sounded worried, her voice coming clear thanks to the thin walls. "Your lights on, I'm coming in, OK?"

Answer her.

She couldn't. She couldn't do much more, other than lie there.

"Rach? Where are you?"

"Ray, this really isn't funny."

A soft knock. Closer.

Rachel closed her eyes and pleaded. To who, she didn't quite know. But she needed Quinn to just walk away now, and leave her: she couldn't be found like this.

"RACHEL? SHIT!"

Quinn screamed, a high clear note that sounded beautiful, even in the circumstances.

"R-Rachel? Look at me, please."

Her voice was closer yet again, her voice trailing off. Rachel knew that she was looking at the scales, the post it notes that had now taken over the back of the door along with the full length mirror frame. The sharp intake of breath confirmed it.

Rachel knew Quinn had just seen the post it note labelled 'Skinny or die.'

"Rachel, babe..." Quinn must have kneeled down beside her, as her hand ghosted over her hair. She didn't know what to do. Well, did anyone?

Rachel coughed softly, the effort almost too much for her; but she did it anyway, she had to let Quinn know that she was OK.

"Q-Q?" she whispered hoarsely. She couldn't even manage to say Quinn's name. Pathetic.

"Oh, Rachel, what are you doing to yourself?" Her voice was soft but she sounded angry too.

"I-I just wanted to be beautiful," Rachel murmured. "If I was s-skinny enough, I could get parts."

"You're perfect as you are, Rachel. You d-don't have to do this to prove that, or to make people notice you," Quinn whispered.

Rachel opened her eyes slowly, blinking away tears as she saw Quinn's face. Her perfect features were marred with sadness and anger; her mouth was down turned in a frown, and her forehead was creased in concern. It was her eyes that held the anger; just a flash of it, nearly hidden beneath the sadness, worry and concern.

"I'm sorry, Quinn," Rachel whispered. She couldn't bear to see the blonde upset for even a second.

"Don't apologise to me, Rachel," Quinn replied quietly. "Apologise to yourself, for not believing in yourself and thinking this would help."

Rachel took a deep breath and nodded.

"If I just lay here, w-would you lie with me?" she mumbled.

"And just forget the world?" Quinn whispered back quietly, smiling softly.

The brunette nodded slightly, smiling to match the blonde. The blonde shook her head gently and slowly lowered herself to the bathroom tile beside the broken girl who she was determined to fix.

Rachel laid her head on Quinn's shoulder, looking up and finding the perfect spot to just look. Quinn looked down at her, shifting their bodies slightly until she was cradling Rachel's petite frame. Protecting her from the world, for as long as it took.

"Forgetting the world sounds pretty good right now," Rachel murmured as she closed her eyes once more.

"The world will never treat you like this again. Not over my dead body," Quinn whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the brunettes hair before closing her eyes.

She couldn't quite explain it, but Quinn knew she wouldn't be leaving Rachel anytime soon. Rachel needed her, and she would be there for her. Forever, if Rachel would have her.

Rachel smiled in her sleep, finally content in Quinn's arms. She wanted Quinn there. Forever, if Quinn would have her.