SPOILER ALERT: I sorta, kinda ruin the ending of the movie 'Black Swan' in this chapter. Just a friendly warning.

"Hi."

Rachel Berry looked up from her paper. She was so involved with her work that she had forgotten she wasn't in the comfort of her apartment.

It was a small café in the lower east side of Manhattan. She had walked by it every single day since arriving in the city that never sleeps. It was on her way to and from school, but she never once stepped inside. Today, however, she felt the need to. She had been beating herself up for not enjoying New York city, so instead of going straight home after school, she took a little walk around the neighborhood. It was fun, she thought. But she also couldn't stop thinking how it was possible to be so lonely in a city full of so many people.

It was six o'clock, and Rachel was still fighting the urge to head home. She decided to stop by the familiar café to begin working on her project. She thought maybe the change of scenery could give her some inspiration. It was better than just sitting on the couch, cuddled up with her dog.

"Are you… here by yourself?"

Rachel was chewing on her pen when she looked up at the blonde, and it just hung from her mouth as she stared now. She was trying to figure out if she had seen her somewhere before. She was certainly beautiful enough to be an actress, or maybe even a singer. She had to be famous. No one with that kind of face was just a normal person. Her bone structure was nearly perfect, from what Rachel had read up on anatomy. Was it weird that was her first thought? Rachel wasn't sure.

She realized she hadn't responded, and couldn't bring herself to actually say words, so she just nodded.

"May I?" The blonde asked, putting her hand on the chair opposite Rachel.

"Take the chair?" Rachel asked, confused.

The blonde chuckled, lightly. "No. Sit here. May I sit here?"

"Oh." Rachel couldn't help but frown a bit. Did someone put her up to this? Was she trying to sell her something? What could she possibly want? "Er, a-are you sure?"

The blonde laughed again. It was soft, like her voice. Rachel was used to being around loud obnoxious theatre kids that were hopped up on coffee and one too many red bulls. The blonde girl's presence was oddly soothing.

"I should be asking you that." Her eyes studied Rachel for a moment. "So? May I?"

"Um, yes. Yes, of course you can sit." Rachel gave a small smile and sat up. She had been in New York for a total of eight months and sixteen days. She hadn't made one friend. Not at NYADA, or on the many auditions she went on; no one ever came up to talk to her, except for this girl, whoever she was.

"You seemed busy; I hope I'm not interrupting."

Rachel pushed her work aside. "No, no, not at all. I needed a break, actually."

"Well, how convenient." She smiled. Rachel noticed how bright her teeth were. So the girl was absolutely stunning and had perfect teeth as well. She had to be famous. Was she on TV? Maybe even YouTube? She had to be someone.

"Do you come here often?" She asked.

Rachel shook her head. "No. I needed a place to work, and its quiet enough in here. I didn't want to go home just yet. Do you? Come here often, I mean."

"I come here to read, mostly." She showed Rachel her book, and slowly smiled up at her. "And… meet new people, occasionally."

"So, you make a habit of talking to strangers?"

Rachel regretted saying that. That was a stupid thing to say. Who says that? No wonder she hadn't made any friends. She was losing her ability to talk to people without sounded awkward. She really needed to do something about that.

The blonde cocked her head to the side. "Strangers?" She asked, still smiling, warmly. "No, no, no. I don't talk to strangers."

"But we don't-"

"I'm Quinn. Quinn Fabray. And you are?"

"Er, Rachel. I'm Rachel Berry."

"Wonderful to meet you, Rachel." Quinn extended her hand for a handshake. "See? We're not strangers."

Rachel smiled and accepted.

"There we go. You're smiling." Quinn put her book down on her lap, and folded her hands on the table. "You looked awfully stressed out, and in need of a friend; I just thought I'd offer."

"That's- that's very kind of you, Quinn."

"I know what you're thinking, 'who's this crazy blonde girl that just ups and talks to me while I'm obviously working on my final for drama class'," Quinn said. "But I just saw you from across the room, and… well, you look a lot like I did when I first came here; stressed out beyond belief, and a bit lonely. I wished someone would have talked to me then, I figured maybe you feel the same way."

"No, I wasn't thinking- I don't think you're crazy…. I'm… glad you decided to talk to me."

"You and me both." Quinn said. "So, aside from the fact that you're recently moved here, and you take drama classes, tell me about yourself."

Rachel was puzzled, and if she was going to be honest, she was definitely starting to feel a little uneasy. "How... do you know that?"

"You would be here with friends if you've lived here for more than a year, especially if you're studying drama. Theatre kids always pack together." Quinn glanced at Rachel's homework. "And I know you study drama because I took a peek at your notes when I went to get my coffee earlier… sorry about that, actually. That's kinda creepy, now that I think about it." Quinn chuckled a bit. "Well, that, but really what gave it away was the fact that you have about seven playbills sticking out of your purse, one of which I noticed is 'Wicked', and I have to say, amazing play."

"Incredibly so." Rachel beamed. "I'd watch it every night if I had the money."

"As would I."

Rachel settled into her chair. This Quinn girl wasn't so bad. She had heard stories of people in New York; rude, offensive, stand-offish, but Quinn seemed the opposite of all those things. She was friendly, inviting even. Not to mention she watched Broadways shows! Rachel couldn't be more excited. It was a potential friendship. She couldn't screw it up.

"Well, you're very astute." Rachel said.

"You have to be when you live here. So, go on. Tell me more about yourself."

"Well, I moved up here from Ohio." Rachel said, slowly. She didn't want to sound boring, but the truth of the matter was that she was. She hadn't done anything worth mentioning since winning Nationals her senior year of high school, and not even that was particularly impressive in this city.

"Oh? What part?"

"Just a little town in the middle of nowhere, really." Rachel said. She didn't want to talk about Lima. She was in New York City! That God-forsaken place shouldn't even be thought about. "I've always wanted to star on Broadway…" She quickly changed the subject. "ever since I was a little girl, and here I am. I, uh, I have a dog. A small one. He's very cute, if I say so myself. I've named him William Wyler."

"Ah," Quinn nodded, smiling. "Named after the director, I'm guessing?"

"Y-you know his work?"

"How could I not? 'Ben-Hur' 'Hell's Heroes', Dodsworth', 'Wuthering Heights', 'Roman Holiday' and of course, 'Funny Girl'. The man was one of the best directors of his time."

"Yes! It's just that n-not a lot of people I talk to know about him."

"Are you sure you go to a drama school?"

Rachel laughed. That was her exact thought when no one seemed to know who William Wyler was when she brought it up in class.

"Well? Is that all? Surely, there's more about you. What do you do for fun?" Quinn leaned on the table.

"Fun? I-I'm constantly busy. Always going to auditions, and school takes up most of my time-"

"Rachel Berry, are you telling me you don't go out on the town? Enjoy the clubs, the sights the sounds of New York City? Shame on you."

Rachel chuckled. "I really don't have time-"

"Nonsense! You live in New York! There's always time."

"Well, I suppose I could do something, but…" The truth was that Rachel never had anyone to really push her to do anything. She knew if Kurt was around, he'd always be inviting her out for dinners and clubs. She was never really particularly outgoing by herself. "Alone?"

"It's how you meet people." Quinn shrugged. "Of course, if we were friends we could make plans, but you know, we're strangers and all."

Rachel was smiling again. It was the most she had smiled all week, now that she thought about it. Hell, if she was going to be honest, it was the most she had smiled all month. This girl was infinitely charming. She had to be some kind of celebrity.

"Perhaps we should exchange numbers." Rachel suggested.

"Well, what a splendid idea." Quinn nodded, already taking out her phone. "Here you go."

Rachel handed her phone over as well. She noticed the time while punching in her digits and saving it as 'Rachel Berry'. It was pretty late, and she was sure she didn't leave little Wyler enough food in his bowl.

"Well, this was… nice." Rachel said.

Quinn nodded and returned her phone.

"I have to be going though. I have to finish this…" Rachel grabbed her papers and stuffed them in her purse. "And I don't know what I'm doing for dinner, and poor Willy is home alone." She stood up. "Not to mention 'House' is on tonight, and I forgot to set my DVR." Rachel paused, lost in thought. "Actually, I don't believe I've even hooked up my cable… I really need to get around to that. It's been almost eight months, and I haven't unpacked all my boxes, can you believe that? And there's really no excuse for it, considering I spend ninety-five percent of my time in my apartment…"

Quinn just sat there, looking up at her with an expression Rachel couldn't read.

"W-what?"

"Nothing." Quinn smiled again. "You… do that a lot, don't you? Ramble?"

"Oh! Um, yes. Force of habit. But I assure you, not all the time, and-and certainly not on the phone. Only in person. And it's worse if I'm nervous or… passionate on the subject at hand. But mostly when I'm in situations that I don't know how to handle, but honestly, it's not very often. I know talking too much is something a lot of people find extremely irritating."

"I'm not complaining."

"You're… not? Everyone else does."

"I'm not everyone else." Quinn stood up. "So, I'll text you later? And don't worry, I won't do it during 'House'. I know how annoying that is."

"It wouldn't be. Honestly. I end up watching every episode of 'House' at least five more times because of the repeats."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. You can text me whenever you like."

Well, Rachel, so much for not sounding desperate.

Quinn's phone made a 'bing!' sound, which reminded Rachel she hadn't given it back to her. "Oh. Sorry."

"No problem." Quinn took her phone and looked at it. "Oh Christ. I completely forgot."

"Is… is something wrong?"

"Yes and no. I'll let you know later." Quinn took a few steps back. "Look, it was great meeting you. I'll text you when I have the chance. I have to run."

"Oh, yes, of course. I… I'll talk to you later?"

Quinn nodded with a smile and ran for the exit.

Rachel finally took a deep breath, and decided the conversation was a complete success and would have done a little dance if there weren't so many people around.

Rachel was engrossed in the new episode of 'House'. No matter how many times they did they old 'the patient is fine so we can send them home now, but oh look they're vomiting blood, our diagnosis was wrong' routine, it never failed to surprise her. She tried to remember the names of the diseases, so in case she ever found herself in a similar situation she could know exactly what was wrong with her. She had a little book she used to write them down in, but somehow, it got lost during the move.

William Wyler was falling fast asleep on her lap. His eyes drooped and would shoot wide open again, startled, whenever Rachel reached for her baked chips on the table.

She still hadn't finished her first draft for her final paper. She had only a page or so more to go. Once she was done writing it up, she had to find a library to start typing it. She still hadn't unpacked her laptop and her printer, and she was never really good with setting up electronics, so she knew it she couldn't do that without calling in the Geek-Squad. She had struggled for two hours to just plug some wires in to set up her cable earlier.

The paper was due in two days. That was plenty of time… right?

Her phone buzzed, and for a moment, she wondered if it was some kind of emergency. Her dads said they would give her space. They said they didn't want to be the annoying parents that called every week to see how things were going. Now that she was here, she sort of wished they did.

She reached over for her phone, prompting little Willy to jump off of her.

"Sorry." She muttered.

He settled down on the cushion beside her, a semi-annoyed expression on his face. Rachel had never seen a dog who was so human before.

She looked at the phone and it read: One new text from: A Stranger ;)

Rachel smiled. Is that what Quinn had put herself under on her phone? Ever the charmer, she thought.

She opened up the message: 'half the time I wonder if House was a real doctor, would he have gotten fired by like, the first season, no matter how many lives he saved? Because honestly the man is crazy. He just stabbed that guy in the heart. What doctor goes around stabbing people in the heart? Hearts are important organs, you know.'

So she was watching it, too? Rachel sat up. The last time she could remember texting someone was Finn, and that wasn't exactly a fond memory considering it was how he broke up with her. He didn't even spell entire words, it was just: im braking up wit u. She still had it saved on her phone.

No apostrophe, he spelled 'breaking' wrong, and didn't bother to type an extra three more letters. She knew he wasn't the smartest of guys, but even Puck would be a little more chivalrous than that.

Rachel realized it had been a total of three minutes since she got the text. Was that too long? Had she been taking too long and Quinn thought she was writing out a long message? Or does Quinn think she's busy now and has put her phone down to do something else?

"What if I've missed my opportunity?" She asked, looking down at her dog.

Willy looked up at her.

"Oh no, she must think I'm ignoring her. Quick! Willy, what should I write? Something funny? Witty, maybe? Or just a simple reply? Like…"

Willy hopped off the couch.

"Don't you dare leave me here!"

But like always William Wyler didn't seem to care, and continued on until he disappeared into the bedroom. Or maybe it was because he knew how manic his owner was and wanted to steer clear of the coming disaster. Rachel wouldn't put it past him. He acted like he didn't know what was going on, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

He was the worst.

"No Beggin Strips for you!" She called after him. "I'm going to put you on a diet, William. No more meat. How do you like that? Hm!"

It had been a total of five minutes now. Five whole minutes. Rachel had to reply fast before everything fell apart.

IKR.

No, Rachel thought, just NO. Not only does that phrase make no sense; I know, right? Asking someone if they can confirm that you know something; it's ridiculous. Also, the fact that she didn't type out any actual words was extremely disconcerting. She erased it. What was she thinking?

Or maybe that was the problem. She was thinking too much about it. She had just met the girl, had polite conversation at the coffee place, and exchanged numbers; that was it. It wasn't like Rachel had met some guy and they were flirting or anything. That would require some kind of pre-dating etiquette; playing hard to get and all that. This wasn't that. This was simple. She was thinking too much about it.

Quinn Fabray, no matter how slightly charismatic, and, quite honestly, breathtakingly beautiful she was; was just a person. Just like Rachel Berry. Get it together, Rachel. This isn't a big deal.

He only stabbed him in the heart TO save his life. He would've died, otherwise.
I imagine everything is going well with you? You seemed kind of worried earlier. Did everything turn out okay?

Rachel sent it because she knew if she didn't she would've worried about sending the wrong thing and changed the message over and over again and it already had been eight minutes and oh my God she had taken too long to send it and now Quinn was probably talking to the hundreds of other friends she had that were probably movie stars or models or just people generally as attractive as her- wait what?

Stop thinking about how attractive she is, she thought. It's getting creepy.

She looked down at the sent text; I imagine everything is going well with you? Imagine?

That implies that you've been imagining things about her, Rachel, what is wrong with you? No, she quickly shook her head. No, it's just a figure of speech. Quinn will get that. Right?

Rachel threw herself on her couch, burying her face in the pillow. Always the drama queen. She was going to scream, but remembered that her vocals chords are extremely important and that she had an audition tomorrow night. She settled for a dramatic sigh, but lifted her head up when she heard the familiar soft pitter-patter of footsteps.

Willy waltzed back into the living room, dragging along the very first chew toy Rachel had gotten him; a giant rubber goldfish. She remembered how it was too big for him to fit in his mouth and he would just drag it along with his paw. Those were the days, when he was cute and nice and fluffy.

He was still fluffy, but all that other stuff went away.

He lied down in front of the TV, snuggling close to it.

"Oh, so you've come back? Well, I'm still not giving you a treat today for abandoning me in my time of need. And I'm keeping to the diet thing. This is all your fault, William. If you would've just told me what to say…." She sighed again. "I've ruined everything…"

Rachel rolled onto her side, and stared at the TV. She wasn't watching it, she was just staring. Tune in to tune out, as they say.

No, this was no time for moping, she shook her head. Time for a 'Rachel Berry inner monologue pep-talk'. She sat up, and straightened out her pajama pants. Willy looked up at her.

Get yourself together, Rachel Barbra Berry. Not having friends, or generally another human being to talk to for almost a year has taken too much of a toll on you. You're going to start over. You're going to start over, and have an incredible amount of confidence. You've been pathetic. Yes, that's right, absolutely pathetic. You're going to be the star you've always dreamed of and you're going to have tons of friends- famous, attractive friends who all fawn over you and Quinn Fabray is going to wish she had texted you back when you star in your first-

Her thoughts were interrupted by the little jingle her phone made when she received a text. It sounded silly, really, and she had been meaning to change that, but she completely forgot about it.

Still, the dude is crazy. I don't know if I'd want him as a doctor. If he stabbed me in the heart to save my life, I'd be conflicted as to sue him or thank him.
And, yeah, thanks for asking. Just a little misunderstanding. I'm in the process of moving to a new place.

"She texted me back!"

Willy plopped his head back onto the chew toy. Rachel was sure that was his way of rolling his eyes.

"Oh, what do you know? You're just a dog."

Okay, be cool, Rachel. Simple. Keep it simple.

That's completely true.
And you're moving? That's great. Where to?

Again, she sent it as soon as possible, and then proceeded to fling her phone across the couch to prevent herself from reading it over. She turned her attention back to the TV. She was just going to calmly watch the rest of House.

Of course, when the phone 'dinged' again, she jumped for it.

Downtown. I used to live in the Upper East Side, but it's just getting so expensive, you know? Anyway, I found a pretty rad apartment. Doesn't cost that much, and it's not a dump, so I'm not complaining.

First of all, 'rad'? Did people still say that? Rachel found it oddly endearing. Secondly, Rachel wanted to ask where downtown, but wasn't sure if that was asking too much. If Quinn was anything like herself, which of course, she wasn't because she was really pretty and charming and just overall more interesting-okay stop with the compliments; she was just growing tired of how anyone could know where you live and where you go to school through the internet nowadays. FaceBook gave everything away. The highest sign of hospitality was no longer a surprise visit from a friend, but instead relied on a 'like' on your status. There wasn't any sense of intimacy anymore. Everyone was an open book with one Google search of their name. There wasn't any sense of mystery… or romance, for that matter. No one wrote letters, and there was never any chance meetings of fate where two people got swept up in a storm of love, and then separated and found each other years later and then get married and have babies; like, seriously, where was the romance these days? Where was the adventure?

Oh, right she was texting. Get your head out of the clouds, Rachel.

That's wonderful! I happen to like Downtown more so than Uptown. Although Uptown is known for its glamour, Downtown has a lot of hidden gems; it's sort of like a treasure hunt.

Did she really just say that? That sounded like something she shouldn't have said, like, what? Is she teaching Quinn Fabray the ways of New York, when, no doubt, Quinn had probably been there longer than herself? And it just sounded childish. Treasure hunt? Really, Rachel Berry. You have an amazingly diverse vocabulary and you liken finding stores and restaurants to some kind of child's game.

I agree wholeheartedly. So, are you busy tomorrow? After I get my stuff settled in, I thought maybe we could hang out.

Rachel almost jumped up, excitedly. She agrees? Well, of course, she does. It was an apt analogy. So she hadn't scared her off yet. This was going ten times better than her earlier attempts at friendships when she first got here.

Those mostly consisted of awkwardly, and very quietly going up to people and making small conversation that the other person was obviously not interested in.

Okay! Actually, no. No exclamation point. Seriously, Rachel, stop sounding like an excited little girl. How about…

Of course. Just tell me when and where.

Yes, that was good. Was it too simple? No, no, that was good.

Taken out of context, however, it sounded like she was going to help her move a dead body, which is the sign of ultimate friendship in her opinion.

I was thinking 6 AV on the L stop? I'll be there at 12, so whenever you get out of school. I'd like to take you somewhere. It's really cool. It's in Williamsburg.

Well, crap. Going to Brooklyn, and the commute back always added up to twenty minutes, and that was only if you just rode the train back and forth. They'd probably be spending time in Williamsburg, and strolling around and all that, so she could bump it up to a total of four to five hours. Which meant it would be around rush-hour when they would be getting back, which added a good fifteen to thirty extra minutes, so, for good measure, she could say it would be six hours. Luckily, she got out of class at twelve tomorrow, which, would normally mean she had plenty of time, but… her audition. It started at seven.

There wasn't exactly a lot of time.

Unless of course, she went straight from hanging out with Quinn to the audition; she could wear what she was planning to for the audition to school, and then rehearse a bit while in Williamsburg.

But she didn't exactly want to risk it.

"Wait a minute…" Rachel said, prompting Willy to look up at her. "That's it! That's it, that's it, that's it!"

She had been playing it safe for the duration of her time here. Was New York the place to stay glued to the sidewalk? No! She should be in the street, dodging cars and dancing. Not literally, of course, just figuratively speaking. She would always head home, do her lines over, warm up her voice, and then head to the audition. She aimed for perfection, but some other girl who came in late and forgot a third of her lines ended up getting the part, and why? Because all those other girls were experiencing things. Staying up late, meeting people; just walking around in New York was enough to get someone riled up, but Rachel had spent all her time pent up in her apartment.

If she had learned anything from the movie, 'Black Swan', it was that:

1. ballerinas could be completely mental, like batshit-insane-crazy

and

2. not everything was about perfection.

Because if it was, it would end with her performing with a glass shard stuck in her abdomen and bleeding out before the curtain closed.

I'll be there around 12:30. She typed in, quickly. She was sure she could get out of class early since their last period was Mr. Kahler, and he never showed up for last period classes, but always left down the notes on the board. She would just have to copy them down, and she was free to go.

She noticed the time, it was nearing ten. Normally, she would have been in bed already, but…

Where is this place you want to show me, anyways?

Rachel woke up, snugly tucked under her covers. It was winter, and the holidays were around the corner, and because of the crappy apartment she lived in, naturally, there was no heat. Willy was sat at her feet, wagging his tail, no doubt waiting for her to pour some food in his bowl.

She rolled on her side to see her phone in her hands. Once she unlocked it; You fell asleep, didn't you? Haha. Knew you would cave first. You owe me five bucks.

Rachel rolled back onto her back, with a smile on her face. How long had they been texting? She couldn't remember.

She remembered texting throughout House, and then right through the news and the late night TV shows. She remembered lying down on her bed. She remembered texting Quinn about Batman, but she couldn't remember how they got up to that topic.

Willy nudged her.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm up." She grumbled.

She climbed out of bed, and slowly made her way to the kitchen. The clock on her microwave said 6:26 AM. So she was a little late. She could skip exercising for today, and just get ready.

She poured Willy's food, and once the little scamp heard the sound of it, he came rushing in.

"It's rude to start eating when I haven't even finished serving you, Willy."

The dog, true to his nature, didn't seem like he cared and kept on munching away.

"Now, listen here, Willy. I'm going to be gone for most of the day, so please, use your Wee-Wee pad, and do not, you hear me, do not, pee on anything other than that. Not the wall next to it, not the floor next to it, and definitely not under the table; directly onto the Wee-Wee pad, understand?"

Willy, at least, stopped eating to look up at her.

"Also, I'm going to leave food in your bowl, and it's enough for the rest of the day, so don't just eat it all in one sitting, because not only will you probably get sick and throw up on the new carpet I got; by the way, have you seen it, Willy? Do you like it? It matches the curtains and the couch. Anyways, not only will you get sick, but then you won't have anything else to eat today."

It seemed like he was listening, so she continued.

"I may be out until, maybe, nine to ten, and maybe even later, so don't set anything on fire while I'm gone, okay? Be a good boy." She patted him on his head.

Willy watched her disappear into the bathroom before he resumed his breakfast.

So far, so good, Rachel thought. Everything had been going as planned, and Mr. Kahler did show up for class, but let everyone go regardless because it was a Friday. He said something about how he had had a life and had better things to do than hang around a bunch of theatre nerds.

Gotta love that man.

She didn't even know it was a Friday, to be honest. She just went day by knowing what would happen the next day. Dates and days didn't seem to matter, just what happened did. She needed to stop planning things out so thoroughly and just enjoy things as they come. This was a new beginning for Rachel Barbra Berry. She was going to be on top of the world.

If only she could cross this damn street.

The drivers in New York were probably worse than the people who pushed on the sidewalk. They were even worse than the tourists. Or maybe they were equal. She hadn't decided who she hated more as of yet.

Yet another taxi honked as she narrowly escaped death for the sixteenth time today when she reached the other side of the street. She had to remember to ask her dads for a little more money for next month, just so she could take a cab or something, instead of having to walk.

Rachel descended the subway steps of the 'L' train heading towards Brooklyn. She rarely ever went there. Only once, when she first arrived to have dinner with Kurt. Kurt lived in Williamsburg, actually, though he didn't spend a lot of time there.

He was still in a relationship with Blaine, even with him back in Lima, still, the last she checked, and he was doing well. She hadn't heard from him since.

Rachel was done having to work to be in people's lives. That wasn't how friendship works. If other people want you, they'll come find you.

The joke was on her, though, when no one seemed to want her.

But that was behind her now. She was beginning anew. Things were looking up, and she had a certain blonde to thank for that.

Rachel wonders if people realize that they have the potential to just make someone's day. Maybe to them, a 'hello' or a smile doesn't mean anything, but to someone else it can mean the world. Maybe Quinn didn't know that she was already #1 on her 'People to buy a gift for on Christmas' list. I mean why would she. After all, Rachel really shouldn't feel so happy about someone she knew nothing about, but everything just seemed to click. It wasn't like her, but somehow it felt natural.

Maybe that was how it supposed to be, she thought.

Where are you? Rachel sent. She'd been on her tip-toes searching the faces of the crowd for a good while now, but couldn't find Quinn.

You're really short, aren't you?

Well, that's not nice. Rachel frowned. It's not my fault.

Haha. I'm behind you.

And sure enough, Quinn was sitting atop the rails the construction men put up when they were working on something.

"Those things aren't sturdy." Rachel said, shrugging her purse on.

"I'll take my chances." Quinn said. "So, you all ready?"

Rachel nodded.

"You ever been to Williamsburg?"

"Once or twice."

"Been to Bedford?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, that's where we're going. You'll like it, I think."

"I apologize for falling asleep last night in the middle of our conversation."

Quinn smiled. "Oh yeah. About my five bucks…"

"I don't recall making any sort of bet."

"I have the text right here." Quinn said, jumping off the rail. "How about we just call it even if you buy me a shirt at the place we're going?"

"A shirt? Won't that be more than five dollars?"

"Actually, shirts there costs a dollar, at most."

"A thrift store?"

"Precisely."

"You aren't taking to me to some sort of hipster haven, are you?"

Quinn laughed. "Well, it is Williamsburg, Rach."

A/N: Nobody kill me for not updating 'WMYGIA', just had to get this out of my head. Updates all around coming soon, though!