You knew you were gay even before you knew the definition of the word gay. But you tried to hide it at first. Being gay in Lima was not a path a person in a right mind would choose. (Which didn't make sense, because it was not a matter of choice. If it was, when did straight people decided that they'd go straight?) The neighbors would talk about you even if you would clearly hear them. They would raise their eyebrows at you while glaring at you from head to toe. And if you were studying at that public high school called William McKinley, you knew that being gay was equivalent to two facial slushies every day.

Thankfully, you were not. You studied at St. Theresa's, a Catholic school for girls. You were quite sure that your parents saw the signs, that's why they tried to straighten you up. What they didn't know was that St. Theresa's was the home of the biggest gay girls in Lima. Like seriously, even the straightest girl would turn gay in that school. Putting them in an institution full of pretty girls 24/7?

Ofcourse no one would loudly admit it. No one had the balls to admit it. Except for Santana and Brittany, your two bestfriends. They would make-out everywhere. Like, everywhere. And the nuns couldn't kick them out because Santana's father was the biggest benefactor in the school.

You knew the consequences of being gay. So when you kinda blurted out in your valedictory speech in your graduation that you were gay, you knew what was coming. You expected the disgusting looks of your teachers, the angry faces of your parents, the startled looks of the other parents, the shocked face of your classmates, and the standing ovation from Santana and Brittany.

It had been two years, and out of all the consequences that you prepared yourself for, going on blind dates with a lot of girls was not one of them. It was your personal choice to be single. You were living in New York with your sister (after your parents kicked you out), and having fun wasn't really a good idea if you had that scholarship to maintain. You already felt burdensome with your sister supporting you with your basic needs, you couldn't afford her to shoulder your tuition too.

Santana and Brittany went to NYU too. And the thing was, they had been setting you up with several girls and it was really starting to annoy you. So last week, when you and Santana were having your scheduled Friday-afternoon coffee hour, and Santana yet again brought up the topic, you kinda said that you already had a girlfriend just to shut her up. Santana glared at you for a solid five minutes before blurting out, "I don't believe you. You're just saying that to shut me up."

"I'm not!" You protested. But she just rolled her eyes. Then she proceeded on describing the date you were supposed to have with that girl (who was the cousin of the bestfriend of Brittany's classmate last semester) until you stopped her by saying, "I really do. We were hanging-out for a while now. Just last Wednesday she asked me to be her girlfriend. I said yes. So yeah. You can't hook me up with other girls any-"

"What's her name?" Santana cut you off, with a raised eyebrow.

Damn. Think of a name Quinn, you said to yourself. Any name would do. That moment, a girl with a toy doll walked past behind Santana. "Barbie. I call her Barbie."

"Barbie? What a lousy name." Santana rolled her eyes with a smirk on her face. "What is she? Tall, blonde, and having undeniably unproportioned large boobies?"

"She's actually the opposite," you said with a smile on your face. "She's a brunette, she's quite short, her boobies weren't large, but her boobies are very notable." You couldn't believe yourself that you actually said that. But you knew how Santana love talking about boobies, and if it was the only way to have the topic misdirected, you gotta grab it. So when Santana started blabbing about the boobies of her old English professor, you let out a sigh of relief. You were safe.

Or so you thought. Until she asked, "And why didn't I hear you talking about this Barbie girl before? I know Brittany and I missed 3 of our Friday-afternoon coffee time because we were busy with practice and all... but hello, what's the use of cellphones? And IMs? And whatsoever?"

"Uh," you started. Damn it! Eventhough you were glancing sideways, you were sure that Santana was studying your reaction so you tried to give her your sweetest smile while thinking of how you will answer her question. You knew that she was not easy to fool. Just when you are about to give the lamest excuse you could think of, a tall blonde walked towards Santana's back with her index finger on her nose, asking you to be silent while she covered Santana's eyes with her hands.

"Guess who," the tall blonde said.

"Wow, this is hard," Santana said, with a tiny smile on her face. Even if someone was not that close to Santana, the shift on the expression of her face was very noticeable. "Brittany?"

Brittany removed her hands from Santana's eyes and quickly kissed her. You smirked. "Get a room, please."

"See. That's why Santana and I want you to get a girlfriend Q. You're always jealous of us," Brittany said, while resuming the kiss that was cut-off a while ago.

"I am not!" You protested.

Brittany pulled herself away from Santana again. She said, "Yes you are. You are so stiff. You only have academics in your mind. And part-time jobs. You're no fun Q." You let out a sigh. What Brittany said was completely out of topic (as always), but it was also true. You weren't really sad, but you weren't really that happy. Some things were clearly missing.

Santana might sense that you were moved by what Brittany said. "Quinn already has a girlfriend Baby, so we don't have to update her internet page anymore," Santana muttered, changing the topic. "And she'll be bringing her girlfriend on Sunday!"

"Really? Yay! Congratulations Quinn!" Brittany totally detached herself from Santana and jumped around you.

"Wait, what Sunday?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"The Gay-Les party Quinn!" Brittany happily exclaimed. "You promised! And since you already have a date, I need to cancel your date with Mike's bestfriend's cousin! There, message sent!"

You moved your glare from Santana's judging looks to Brittany genuine happy face. You're screwed, you told yourself. Once again, you gave your sweetest smile to Brittany. You're very sure Santana was still studying your reaction. "Yeah! Ofcourse I will!" Okay. It's official, you're screwed!

***

After Santana and Brittany left the cafe last Friday, you tried calming yourself. You're Quinn Fabray, you could think of a solution to this situation. So you tried calling your friends so that they could act as your girlfriend. Unfortunately, eventhough NYU was large and Santana and Brittany's course were different to yours, your uncommon friends were very few. It wasn't really helping that Santana sent you about a hundred text messages telling you how excited they were to meet THE Barbie Girl. Damn.

The moment you entered the club Sunday night, you turned your head right and left. This was your last chance. You need to find someone here. Damn it. Everyone's in pair. This was it. In 15 minutes, Santana and Brittany would come and you'd just admit to them that you didn't have a girlfriend yet. And then the series of blind dates would resurface again. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Even the good music in the background (the band singer's really doing a great rendetion of the song You're Still the One) couldn't make you calm right now.

You continued walking around quickly, smokes and dancing weren't really your scene. You went to the bar and scanned the room again. Were you the only single person in this club? You ordered an orange juice, and you felt someone sat on the stool beside you.

"I don't care about your boyfriend Jake! WHAT I CARE ABOUT IS THAT YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THAT MY DATE IS NOT COMING!"

You tried to stop yourself from glancing at the girl beside you. She was clearly talking with someone on the phone and she was clearly alone too tonight! Hmmm.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH. LIES! I REARRANGED MY MONTH'S SCHEDULE FOR THIS! AND NOW IT WAS COMPLETELY RUINED!" the girl continued.

You heard the click of her phone and you heard her let out a loud sigh. You glanced at her quickly, and at that same time, she glanced at your direction too. She smiled sadly, and you didn't know if it was just because of sudden change in the lighting on the club but you suddenly saw her face glowing. Damn, she was beautiful. Who's stupid enough to ditch a date with her tonight?

"Excuse me? Are you alright? Do I have something on my face?" The girl said kindly.

You realized that you were staring. And you also realized that she could be Barbie. She's a brunette. From estimate you knew she was not tall. And her boobies were... You glanced at that part of the girl's anatomy but glanced away as quickly. And she's alone too.

She shrugged her shoulder and slipped away from her seat. She gave you another smile before turning her back at you. Wow, her ass. And the way her hair swayed when she walked.

What would you do?

(Run after the girl. She is your last chance to save yourself tonight.) GO TO CHAPTER 2.
(Watch the girl go. It won't work. You just have to accept defeat and confess to Santana.) GO TO CHAPTER 3.