AN- Here we are again, but this time I'm ready for the challenge.

Colors burned brightly as they flared up into the night sky with an exploding sound. They gave life to a nearly invisible sky as they ushered in another year; a reminder that time did in fact move forward. Each firework burst into the air, bursting and searing their vibrant color into the mind and eyes of every person watching the display.

Behind me, I could hear the sounds of a raging party. In the past I might've joined in on the festivities, but these days I had far too many regrets to really enjoy anything especially a holiday involving celebrating the passage of time.

My eyes strayed to the pile of magazines strewn across the small table adorning my terrace. It was a major part of why I wasn't inside with all of my guests. I couldn't bare to be around everyone while they were happy and gushing about all the wonderful things they would do this year. The magazines served as a personal reminder of all my mistakes and missed opportunities. My inability to admit the truth to myself and everybody for so long cost me dearly, and I was finally facing the repercussions for my inaction.

On top of those magazines was a carefully written wedding invitation with gold leaf foil as the future bride was on the decadent side. The invitation served as a huge slap in the face. Feelings of anger, insecurity, and ultimately loneliness accompanied that ice cold slap.

I knew one day my time would run out, but I hadn't imagined it would occur so soon, or maybe I simply deluded myself into believing I had more time.

I tiredly pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes to prevent the onslaught of more tears. I had already reapplied my make-up earlier to conceal puffy eyes and red cheeks. The magazine somehow made me feel worse than the stupid invitation. It was there for everyone to see and hit me harder than I expected.

For someone my age, I had a severely long list of mistakes and horrible deeds. I wasn't sure what made me believe I even had a chance when I had shown at every turn I was a coward. I never had the courage to step up and admit to my feelings, and here I was finally too late to do anything about them. I wondered bitterly if this was how my mother felt.

With a deep sigh, I turned to look out onto the calm waves of the ocean, wishing I could float away with the tide. I watched as the water lapped at the shore. The sound of the water soothed me and provided a simple distraction from the tragedy that was my life.

By most people's standards I should be happy. I was an award winning actress and was a front runner for Academy nominations in a few weeks. All of that was relative when I considered how empty my life was. Most of the trashy tabloids and even the magazines I occasionally allowed to interview me knew very little about my personal life. I was elusive and reclusive, and preferred to keep my life private. It only added to the speculation about me, which in turn created more buzz. The worst part was they all thought I was hiding a secret lover or marriage when the opposite was true.

Deep down I was lonely. People stared at my photographs and marveled over my bone structure or the color of my eyes, they never noticed the longing in my eyes for more than the frivolity my life provided. They didn't see the sorrow embedded in the lines of my face, nor did they detect how my smiles never reached my eyes. I learned from my father perception was everything, and people never really saw things as they were.

I leaned onto the railing, shivering slightly as the night air hit my skin. My thoughts were running rampant as they were wont to do when I was alone. My closest friends would say I had far too much time on my hands between projects to think and my thoughts often got me into more trouble.

This time they were reminded me of all the changes happening in my friends lives, while mine was in a deep freeze. I was stuck and they were moving forward, faster than I could keep up. My life was stagnant. I was aware I had no one but myself to blame for how my life was turning out, but when you wanted something, like truly wanted something or someone I should say, it was hard to just move on.

It wasn't as if I spent all these years pining after someone who didn't want me. In fact, I tried dating multiple people. I cultivated a bit of a player image when I first started in Hollywood, but all those relationships ultimately failed as I could never be truly intimate with anyone. Sex was easy. It was physical and primal; feelings were an entirely different matter. They required trust in your partner. I was too uncomfortable to share the sins of my past.

All of my former girlfriends berated me time and again for being emotionally distant and refusing to share anything beyond the shallow stuff. There wasn't much left to say after that. They would cross their arms expectantly and raise a brow indicating it was now or never, and I clammed up unable to do as they asked. I cared for them. Love was not within my grasp. They were all nice, yet there was something missing. I couldn't explain it if I tried.

In previous relationships when I still pretended I was into guys, I easily controlled the relationship and avoided discussing things like feelings. My boyfriends didn't ask so I never felt obligated to share much. Even Sam as sweet and naïve as he was far more interested in making out and getting to second base than hearing about my pregnancy or my sad, pathetic home life. My mom tried. Bless her heart, she really did. It was just hard after my dad left.

.All of my girlfriends assumed there was someone else, someone who ruined for anyone else. They all cursed her and told me she deserved to rot for what she had done to me. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the sentiment as I didn't feel entirely deserving of it.

There was someone. I could've had a chance with her, but like with everything in my life I blew it.

In the beginning, I hadn't realized how much she had gotten under my skin until one day I found myself doodling her name in my college notebooks. I was distracted during class, which wasn't an unusual occurrence. Writing Rachel Berry's name however was new.

At the end of our senior year I bought metro passes for the two of us. New Haven and New York were a few hours away by train and I figured at least I wouldn't be completely alone. I extended friendship to her even though it terrified me. I hadn't discovered the reason why she scared me, why every time she offered me friendship I threw it back in her face. I ran. Then the one time I didn't, she forgot about me.

Her life in New York was far too glamorous for some girl she was barely friends with in high school. It pained me more than I imagined. Thinking about her caused my heart to race and my lungs to constrict painfully.

It took years to train myself not to react when I heard her name or saw her face. After college, I tried to rekindle whatever it was we had between us, and failed miserably. It was the final straw for me. I decided to pick up everything and move to sunny L.A. I figured Hollywood was as good of place as any to start an acting career.

Everyone wanted something from me, but not Rachel Fucking Berry, never her. She was different than everyone else. She had no expectations, and was never too disappointed when I reverted to my former self as if it was what she expected of me all along.

The quiet pad of footsteps alerted me to a presence behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. It was my best friend, second in command, frenemy and everything in-between. The one person who knew what it was like to hate yourself, but remained too scared to change because of what others would think. Santana Lopez understood me, Quinn Fabray, in a way many people did not, could not. She never judged because she had either done something as bad or worse.

"What are you doing out here alone Q?" There was an undercurrent of concern lacing her tone.

I was silent for a moment. I knew it unnerved her. My silence never boded well for most people, especially when we were ruling the halls of McKinley. I turned to her and saw the reflection of the fireworks in her dark eyes. I saw the worry she normally attempted to hide from me. Her and Brittany weren't very good at it as I had caught them a few times discuss me and my sad state.

"S, I'm not really in the mood to talk."

Usually that enough for her to let it go, but it seemed tonight was the night where she had enough of my deflection when a topic was uncomfortable.

I knew she saw the magazines and the invitation, and it didn't take her long to figure out what sent me out here. I avoided looking at her because I didn't want her sympathy. I wasn't someone to be pitied. "Q-"

"Don't."

She sighed and took her position beside me. "It's about her, huh?"

She learned over the years it was best to avoid saying her name lest she wanted to send me into a downward spiral where I sobbed and sobbed until I fell asleep. I had come home once to find them watching the Tony's live. It was poor timing on my part as they announced Rachel as the winner of best actress in a musical. I fell to my knees and wept as she had actually done what she set out to do despite all the obstacles in her way. She was living her life.

I nodded.

"I don't know what to tell you." I snorted. "I've never been in this sort of situation. While I've done a lot of fucked up shit in my time, I can say I haven't tried to break up an engaged couple."

I brushed away a single tear. "No you haven't done that." I wouldn't either. I couldn't. She deserved to be happy. "She looks happy."

Santana caught the wistfulness in my voice. "I wonder sometimes if we had been less insecure in high school if we would've been happier."

"Probably a lot less repressed. Sometimes I look back and think I was so gay for her, but denied it out of sheer stubbornness. I was holding onto this unobtainable image of a perfect Christian girl. God!"

If anyone understood, it was her. She had been through something similar and for a long time didn't speak to her Abuela because of her refusal to accept Santana's sexuality. It took a lot of time and phone calls for them to fully repair their relationship after Santana and Brittany's wedding. They were the lucky ones who knew all along where they wanted to be. I envied them that.

"I want to be happy and I want her to be happy." I cried. I was sure my face was a mess of dark streaks, but I didn't care. I was beyond that perfect image garbage. "It's crazy to recognize as far back as our first Nationals I had feelings for her."

"Really?" I hadn't divulged much about it with her. It was difficult to talk about.

"Yeah, it was watching Finn kiss her that it truly hit me the reason why I had been so angry after Regionals. She wanted him and not me. It wasn't her I was jealous of, it was him. He had her and he never made her first priority. I watched her pine after a guy who never what he wanted. He almost dragged her down with him."

I saw her wince at the reminder of the shit show that was our senior year. That time was somewhat hazy for me after all those weeks in the hospital and all of the physical therapy to regain the ability to walk.

"Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago. I can hardly believe she was almost a child bride."

I bit my lip to hide my giggles. "Hardly," I scoffed.

"She was seventeen and just barely past her birthday when he asked her. He was just holding onto her because he had nothing else. The one decent thing he did for her was to let her go when he did."

I couldn't agree more.

While Finn was a good guy, he wasn't right for her in the end. He didn't care about anyone's dreams but his own as evidenced by him asking a New York bound Rachel to marry him. He had her so screwed up by promising her to do it all together. They would've been stuck in Lima together. He would've dragged her down with him as he had no direction..

"I wish I could go back to Nationals before I went all crazy. I would confess to her why I did the things I did and tell her it was never about Finn for me. She thought I hated her and wanted Finn back." I let out a hollow chuckle at the thought. "Too bad there are no redo's in life." I turned away from her to stare at the water once again. "Go back to Britt, I'll only be out here a little longer." I wanted a little more time to myself to wallow in self pity. I would be fine tomorrow. Maybe.

I felt her sympathetic gaze before she went back inside, but did my best to ignore it. I knew she wanted a way to help, but there was no easy fix to this one. I squandered my chances a long time ago and it was time to live with them.

My arms rested on the railing once more as I inhaled the salty air. This year my New Year's resolution is to fall in love. It may not be her, but I don't want to be alone any longer. I just want to feel love.

I squinted my eyes at the overwhelming brightness in my room, wondering how I forgot to shut the curtains the previous night. The rapping on my door was the reason for my wakefulness as I usually slept late unless I was required early on set. "Go away Santana," I grumbled unhappily, burrowing my face in my pillows.

I wasn't in the mood for more of her pity talks. I had to accept that Rachel Berry was getting married and figure out how to move on with my own life in the process. I was a big girl.

"Honey," I fell out of my bed.

"Mom?" I rubbed my face, wondering exactly how many drinks I had the night before. There was a twinge in my shin as I walked over to the door and pulled it open. I must've been dreaming as a younger version of my mother was revealed to me.

Her hair was still blonde with carefully hidden greys unlike the version of her I was most accustomed to in the future. Confusion clouded my head as I tried to figure out what was happening. There was also that sadness in her eyes. It had been there ever since my dad revealed his true colors and left.

It went away when she met her second husband. He brought the light back to her life.

She stood there awkwardly, and I recalled this was the rebuilding time of our relationship. Things were uncomfortable between us as we re-established our relationship. "Honey, you overslept." I nodded dumbly, unsure about what she was talking about. I couldn't remember my dreams being this vivid in the past. "I know things aren't… the best between us at the moment, but I do care." Again I nodded. "Anyways with that said, I think you said you had a morning practice for Nationals coming up in a bit."

My mouth fell open as she rambled. I blinked and shook my head. "Wait… did you say Nationals?"

She looked at me strangely as if I were sick. "Yes I know it was a weird week last week for both of us, but you only have three more days before you leave for New York. And when you get back, we have to start planning for college next year. You'll be a senior in a few months Quinnie, and I want you to have every opportunity."

This cannot be happening. Wishes don't actually come true. Do they? There was no way in hell I had gone back to my junior year.

"Breakfast is almost done, so hurry before you're late."

"Okay mom." I did as my mother asked and got ready for school. It felt weird wearing clothes I hadn't worn since before college again. The next several years involved a lot of experimenting with my look and figuring out what I liked. The first of my senior year and most of the summer prior to it, I cringed when I thought about it. I was never meant for the punk lifestyle. Perhaps that was something I could avoid this go around. The tattoo was an even bigger mistake, I eventually had removed.

I glanced around my childhood bedroom until I found my calendar. Prom was circled, and I grimaced at the thought. I was marking off days until Nationals. My mom said it was in three days.

The weeks leading up to our departure were filled with angst, drama, jealousy, and strife as we easily turned on one another. One of the issues of our club was how we easily allowed our relationships to impact our group dynamic. Mr. Schuester was usually oblivious to what was happening when he handed out our assignments, and it wasn't until later on that he seemed to understand something serious was happening.

As I squeezed my eyes shut trying to remember the specifics of this time, it hit me that Finn would've just broke up with, which means Coach Sylvester's sister recently died.

I was over Finn, but that didn't stop the feelings of anger at being dumped. He was delusional as he spouted all that crap about he and Rachel being 'tethered'. She shared with me during our senior year her uncertainty regarding her relationship with him. After he passed, she confided in me she knew they couldn't have been destined. They were on two different paths and had been for some time. They were to scared to admit what they both knew to be true.

After I deemed myself good enough to go to school, I finally left the confines of my bedroom. The smell of bacon permeated the air and caused my stomach to growl. No one could get the bacon as crispy as my mother, although Santana did try.

It was easy to forget with all the distance between us how much I missed my mom. With all of my projects, there was little time for downtime to visit. When I did come home, my mom commented on how thin I was and did her best to stuff me full. When she visited, she froze meals for me so that she knew I was getting a proper meal. I loved her for it.

"Smells good," I said as I walked into the kitchen.

My mom beamed at me from her position at the stove. "I can't let my Quinnie go to school without a decent breakfast." My face warmed at the nickname. It had been a while since she had used it as I begged her to stop using it. It was so embarrassing, and never failed to make Santana laugh and mock me.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude and love for my mother. What I hadn't recognized was how much she was trying and I never gave her a chance, still too bitter about the events of the previous year.

She was surprised when I rushed forward and threw my arms around her. Tentatively, her arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I pulled back shyly, toeing the floor.

"Okay," she cleared her throat. "Why don't you go sit at the table? I'm almost done."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. Mornings like this between us were rare. Neither of us were willing to step out of our comfort zones in fear of destroying what little we managed to rebuild.

When mom was done, she joined me at the table with bacon and eggs on our plates. There was a pile of toast in the middle. When I was a kid, breakfast was an important time for our family. We each talked about what our day would entail and wished one another luck. My dad would kiss all of us before leaving for work. I sighed as those days were long gone.

"So what do you guys have prepared for your competition?" She hadn't taken much interest outside of attending regionals the previous year. I knew she was still hesitant to show up at any of my performances.

Outwardly I smiled, but inwardly groaned as this was always a point of contention for our club during our mini reunions. When we got caught up in our nostalgia, it always landed back on those first two years where we struggled in our preparation.

Mr. Schue was great but a planner he was not. "Uh… we are doing something original. Mr. Schue thought it would be best after the outcome of Regionals."

If only I could talk to him. We wasted a lot of time in New York. I agreed we didn't deserve to win. We weren't prepared. Finn kissed Rachel and she let him too caught up in trying to live out her high school romantic dreams. It was a shit show.

"I'll see you after rehearsal mom. Is there anything you need me to get?"

She shook her head. "No, I'll run to the store later after I run my errands. You have a good day at school sweetheart."

"Thanks mom, love you." I didn't stay as I knew she would get all teary. I hadn't said it to her since I came back home.

I stopped short at my red Bug. At the sight of my first car, my leg had a phantom twinge. The accident was a little less than a year out, but hopefully I wouldn't be anywhere near that intersection on that day.

McKinley High looked the same as ever. It had changes in recent years under Mr. Schue's administration. About a year after the dedication, they expanded the auditorium.

As I stared at my former classmates, it hit me how young everyone was. I hadn't gone to my ten year reunion. It would've been a circus and I didn't want to see most of those people anyways. I hadn't been kind to many of them, and I knew there would've been a lot of whispering about me behind my back.

The few visits to my mother over the years helped me recognize a couple of the kids, but most of them were unknown to me. I hadn't cared much about anyone beyond Cheerios, Glee, and some of the other sports teams. It sucked to know how truly shallow I was at this age.

I knew most of these kids would never leave. The Glee club was quick to leave the confines of this oppressive town, and many of them had gone on to do big things. It was mentioned in several interviews about my close friendships with Mercedes, Brittany, and Santana. Glee club helped launch us all into who we were supposed to be and taught us that our dreams weren't so unattainable.

Entering the school brought back a lot of memories, many of them weren't good. A cold shiver ran through my as I saw kids carrying slushies. It horrified me to think I ever participated in such a vulgar ritual.

There were two and a half weeks of school left so people were less frantic than usual to get to class. We were mostly doing end of the year reviews or watching movies until our time ran out.

I'd had the same locker all four years because of my position with the Cheerios. I pulled out the schedule I printed to assist me with my classes and my locker combo when something caught my eye.

I swear I had a sixth sense for her.

It was Rachel and she was alone. Finn was still figuring out how to get her to see they were great together, but she wasn't giving him the time of day as of yet.

"Hi Rachel," I called out.

She faltered and some stupid jock came running around the corner, knocking her over. It was partially my fault for surprising her as I knew she thought I was still angry about being dumped and the whole prom fiasco. "You're such an asshole Azimio. Get out of here," I barked at him as he and his cronies laughed.

I still held enough power around these halls to be taken seriously. "Are you okay Rach?"

Rachel blinked at me warily as she glanced around us. "Uh Quinn, not that I am not pleased you've assisted me in getting those Neanderthals off my back, but you're not usually the first person to come to my defense. Ordinarily, you would be laughing along with everyone else to watch me all sprawled on the floor."

I flinched. "Yeah well I want to turn over a new leaf. I decided I don't want to be that girl anymore. It hasn't gotten me very far."

Her lips were pursed as she deliberated whether or not to believe me. I knew she was leaning towards believing me as she wanted to believe the best in everyone even when they really didn't deserve it. "Why now?"

"Can't you just accept that I want a change?" It was frustrating with her sometimes. She needed an explanation for everything. "Prom was eye opening for me. I nearly ruined the whole night for myself. The worst part was that I could hardly care about the Finn of it all."

Her mouth opened and closed and it would've been comical if she weren't so shocked. "Wh-what? I thought you loved Finn."

So did I. "Finn was a mistake both times. I was trying to keep him to remain popular and to be prom queen. It didn't exactly work out in my favor." I told her as we collected her books and papers off the floor.

"I suppose not."

"I want to try being friends with you. I know I sort of blew that all to hell during the time leading up to regionals, but if you're willing I'd really like another shot."

I handed her the remainder of her belongings. "Thanks." There was that divot between her brows. "Well I'm always in support of giving someone second or fourth chances."

"You won't regret this. I better finish at my locker, or else I'll be late for homeroom. Ms. Dawson wouldn't like that." She was infamous for handing out detentions for tardies.

"See you at morning rehearsal."

Rachel Berry had no idea what was coming her way. She gave me the opening, and I was going to take it. Second or fourth chances didn't come around every day.