A/N: I do not own the rights to Glee. This is fanfiction, not ownerfiction.
She had always felt invisible, although she found that to be a bit of an understatement. She didn't have any friends, for nobody ever listened to her. She didn't have a favorite teacher, for none of them ever seemed to notice when she raised her hand. She didn't have a good relationship with their parents, for they were always drunk or out of town. She didn't have anyone, for nobody cared.
So when she began to physically disappear, nobody missed her. At first, she was rather upset by this. She'd hoped that at least one person felt more than indifferent to her, even if they hated her. She thought that being hated would be nicer than being ignored. After a while, though, she became used to it. She didn't really consider it as more than another part of her life.
After she became truly unnoticeable, she started singing. She'd always liked music, but never bothered to sing before. She didn't really know why, because she found that she enjoyed it. In fact, it became her new favorite thing to do (although, there wasn't much to do when you were invisible). She would sing everywhere- in her room, at the park, in the high school's auditorium.
It was there that he first heard her.
It was early on a Monday morning, a good twenty minutes or so before students would start piling into the school. He was going there to just sit and think for a while, for he seemed to be distracted anywhere else. Something about the rows and rows of empty seats just made it easy for him to clear his mind, and he liked that.
He didn't know what song she was singing, but it sounded pretty. No, more than that. It sounded beautiful. He was enraptured by it, and found himself just listening until the bell signaling the beginning of the school day rang. He never saw who sang, and he wondered who it was as he headed off to his class. He intended to come back the next day, and every day after that in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of the mystery singer.
She wondered why the boy came to the auditorium each day before school. He didn't actually do anything; he just sat there each day. At first she thought maybe, just maybe he was listening to her sing. But she knew that couldn't be the case, nobody could hear her. She knew this because she had yelled quite loudly into several people's ears, and received no reaction.
The worst part was it being exactly like before.
The next Monday proved that her original guess was correct. It started off like usual, she was singing one of her songs, and he wheeled himself into the auditorium. She finished her piece, and took a deep breath, prepping for the next one.
"Hello?" He called. "Who's there? Who's singing?"
The singing stopped. Finally, she asked "You can hear me?"
"Yes, but I'd like to see you, too."
"I'm on the stage."
"I don't see you."
"Hold on." She replied. He heard the sound of footsteps, and then "Can you see me now?"
"No, where are you?"
"Right next to you." He whispered into his ear. He could feel her breath on his neck, and it sent chills down his spine.
"But how?"
"I'm invisible. Does that scare you?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't know; it just doesn't. Maybe because I can feel you?"
"You can feel me?"
"Yes, I felt it when you whispered into my ear-" he replied, getting cut off by the sound of the bell. "I'll be back tomorrow; I have to get to class."
"Wait!" she called. "I never got to learn your name!"
"It's Artie!" He called back. The last thing he heard before first period that day was "I'm Tina!"
The small conversation started a unique friendship between the two. He would arrive at the auditorium every day before school, and they would just chat for a good twenty minutes. Those minutes were precious to her, because for a small part of each day, she didn't feel so alone. They were precious to him, too, because for a small part of each day, he felt accepted.
They easily became best friends.
He told her all about the accident that paralyzed him, something he never shared. He told her all about how it felt to be in a wheelchair. He told her all about what it's like to get slushie facial. He told her of his dream of being a dancer, how he would watch them all the time wishing that could be him.
She told him all about how she felt before she turned invisible. She told him about how it felt to literally be invisible. She told him all about what it's like to be unheard. She told him of her dream to be seen again, how she would stare in a mirror for hours on end, just hoping that she'd magically reappear somehow.
They told each other everything.
They'd been having their strange rendez-vous for little over a month when he asked her, "What did you look like before?"
She stayed silent for a few moments before replying, "How do you think I looked?"
He thought for a moment. "I think you had brown eyes."
"Why?"
"I don't know; it's just a feeling."
"Well, you were right." She replied.
That night, she could have sworn she saw her eyes gazing back at her in the mirror.
It was only for a moment- a precious, fleeting moment-but she knew they were there. It was all that she could think about. She thought about how wonderful it was to see them. She thought about how much she wanted to tell Artie- and how she had to wait two days. She thought about how maybe it was the beginning of being visible again, something she took for granted.
Monday comes, and for some reason she doesn't tell him. Instead, she asks him what color he thinks her hair is. He says black, and she admits he's right. That night, she sees her hair in the mirror as well. She does this each day that week, asking him for a trait or two he thinks she has, and him guessing it correctly. By the end of the week, she can see all of herself for just a moment.
The next week, she tells him. He smiles and tells her it's great, while. She smiles (although he can't see it) and intertwines her imperceptible fingers with his. She kisses him on the cheek, her way of thanking him. He blushes, and at that moment she just knows. She knows that somewhere along the way, she fell for the boy in front of her. Someone who's distinct and visible, and could never be in a relationship with her.
That night, she cries.
The next day, she doesn't speak. He's confused, because he knows he can sense her presence. He wonders if he's done anything wrong, so he just begins to confess everything. He confesses to being a bit jealous that she's close to He confesses to having a crush on her, one he's had for a while. He confesses to wanting to kiss her. She still doesn't say anything, but she kisses him full on the lips.
In that moment, she changes.
She feels like Briar Rose or Snow White or one of those fairytale princesses- the ones who are awakened by a simple, chaste kiss. Except this kiss isn't so chaste, and she's only being awakened in the metaphorical sense. She feels like she's in a fairytale because she's becoming visible, and it's surreal. Just like she never expected to become invisible, she never expected to become visible again, either.
She pulls back from the kiss, and he stares at her. It's the first time he's ever literally seeing her, and it's something new. He can't believe how much she looked like he imagined. He can't help but think of how beautiful she is, how much he wants to run his fingers through her long, silky hair. He's just taking her in, taking in the fact that she' more real than ever, and she's there.
"Thank you," she says, and he can't believe how unreal it is to put a face to her voice. "This is all I ever really wanted."
He wraps his arms around her, because he has no verbal response. The moment needs no words, and they both know it. It's in that moment that he knows he's going to do all he can to make her happy. And it's that moment that she promises herself that she'll help him become a dancer.
Years later, she becomes a doctor.