After the Night of Neglect fund-(not)-raiser, Lauren and Mercedes continued to hang out. Lauren no longer acted as Mercedes' manager, and things seemed to work out just fine. They seemed like and unlikely pair, with personalities too similar to get along, but the girls had a lot in common.

Like their attitude about life.

Their shared motto:

"Don't like me? Ha. I'll make you wish you did."

No one really noticed when the girls started getting closer. They were in glee club together. It was only a matter of time before they had a full-length conversation.

Mercedes was glad for the new friend. Kurt had been gone at Dalton for a while now, and she was getting kind of lonely. As more time passed, more and more of her texts went unanswered, but Mercedes understood. Kurt now had Blaine, his hunky, lead soloist boyfriend to keep him company. Dalton was two hours away. It was only natural that they would drift a little bit.

Still, that left Mercedes alone most Friday nights and weekends. When Kurt was home, he spent most of his time with his dad, and Finn, and sometimes by extension, Rachel. Kurt made time for her when he could, but she wasn't a priority. Sometimes, that hurt. But most of the time, Mercedes understood.

It gave her more free time to work on important things. Like, rehearsing her solos for glee club. Or studying. They were in their junior year, after all. SAT's were right around the corner.

And though Mercedes' grades did improve, much to her parents' excitement, Mercedes still felt a little down about herself. Which was a cause for worry. Mercedes was proud of who she was. She liked her race, and her body. She spoke her mind, and was not afraid of who heard it. She loved herself for who she was. Until the day came that she didn't. For the first time in her life, Mercedes wished that she could be somebody else.

The feeling isn't completely new. When she was on the Cheerio's, she oftentimes felt out of place. Like a black stain on an otherwise all-white canvas. Like a really, really, big black stain. Like a whale of a black stain. She wasn't stick thin, and she knew she wasn't stick thin. She knew that her legs would never look like Santana's. She knew she'd never be as tall or as thin as Brittany. And she knew that she would never be as stereotypically blond and beautiful as Quinn. Still, that didn't stop Mercedes from wishing that she was.

The feeling comes back from time to time, but Mercedes has learned to just ignore it. Sometimes, if you ignore feelings, they just go away.

Well, that's what she liked to think.

The thing is, she has so many things that she should love about herself. She's one of the most talented members of the glee club- though Mr. Schuester, for whatever reason, has yet to utilize those talents in a competition setting. She has an amazing sense of humor, and lots of people that love her and care about her.

Sometimes, though it's just hard to believe it.

When you look like Mercedes does, it's hard to sometimes not be insecure.

Lauren, however, has no such fears. Well, kind of. Hers are just kind of different.

Lauren knows what she looks like. She's not stupid. Or blind. She knows she doesn't look like what you would expect someone her age to look like. She's big. Some might say obese, but Lauren doesn't care. She likes food. She doesn't like exercise. Sue her.

Lauren has never really had friends. And for a while, she was okay with that. Her size often alienated her. No one wanted to be friends with the fat girl. That was okay. Lauren understood. It was whatever.

To be honest, Lauren liked how she looked. She liked being fat. It made her different. Beautiful in a way that no one would really expect. She loves herself. She thinks she's smoking hot. And if the rest of the world didn't agree? Well, that was their problem. Who on Earth were they to tell her that she wasn't?No one defines Lauren except Lauren. Period. And what does Lauren define herself as?

One damn hot sexy bitch.

That's right. Fuck you if you thought any different. Didn't like it? Didn't have to. Lauren would not care either way. She wouldn't know what the hell was wrong with you.

But, Lauren does know one thing. A lot of people look at her, and don't see the same thing that she does. They see fat. They see ugly. They see tough. And they see untouchable.

Lauren thinks she's beautiful, but she's all too aware that some people might not agree.

Lauren knows that a lot of boys would be too intimidated by her size to look at her twice. She's okay with that. She doesn't need a man for anything. Puckerman was a boy who knew what beauty was when he saw it.

So then Mercedes comes along, another tough bitch. But Mercedes is different than Lauren. She's softer. Mercedes wants people to like her. Lauren doesn't care if they do. Mercedes dreams of looking like someone else, Lauren has never even considered the option. They get along. They balance each other out.

Mercedes finds that if you look hard enough, there is love in Lauren's heart. Lauren has come to find that Mercedes is one of the strongest people she'd ever met.

They're different, but at the heart of it they're still the same.

Fat.

And though they deal with it in different ways, it's the one thing that will always tie them together. The one thing that they will always have in common.

So they walk together through the hallways of McKinley High School, heads held high, proud of who they are and everything they stand for.

And then someone throws a slushie in each of their faces.

"Fat asses," someone sneers in Mercedes' ear as he passes.

She stops walking, wiping the frozen drink out of her eyes, and not bothering to see who had defiled her hair. And her makeup. And her clothes. She turns and looks at Lauren, who seems to be reacting the same way she is. They make eye contact, and a silent promise to not show any sign of hurt.

Lauren reaches over, wiping some of the slushie from Mercedes' face, and tastes it.

"Grape," she announces, smiling at her friend. "My favorite." Mercedes laughs, linking her arm through Lauren's and continuing their way down the hall, to the girls bathroom where they clean themselves off and talk about how it's kind of ridiculous that the school is willing to pay for slushie machines and not give money towards important things like the music program, for instance.

They forget about the name that they'd been called five million times, weather individually, or together. It doesn't really matter. Because they're beautiful. And if the world doesn't agree with them, well screw the world. It's the world's loss, not theirs.