A/N: Once upon a time, I wrote a "Choose Your Own Adventure"-ish Faberry fic wherein four possible endings were possible; what ending you'd get depends on your choice at the end of each chapter. Here's a repost of one of the possible paths in that story- an edited version (because the grammatical errors are too damn high haha) for the Faberry Week 2013 "Blind Date".

-QFRB-

You knew you were gay even before you even became aware that the word "gay" did not only correspond to "having or inducing high spirits," as your dictionary suggested. As a child, you were fonder of your girl classmates, wanting to woo them like in the movies. You repressed this as you grew older, ofcourse. You tried to hide it from your parents. You tried to hide from your friends. As a very observant kid, you easily noticed that gay people are not treated well the community where you grew up.

Being gay in Lima was not a path a person in a right mind would choose. (Which didn't really make sense because it was never a matter of choice. If it was, when did straight people decide that they'd go straight?) The neighbors would talk about you even if you would clearly hear them, whispering in their hushed tones about how sinful you are. They would raise their eyebrows at you while glaring at you from head to toe as if you killed someone.

And... if you were studying at that public high school called William McKinley High School, being gay was equivalent to two facial slushies every day. Thankfully, you didn't go there. You went to St. Theresa's, an exclusive Catholic school for girls.

You were quite sure that your parents saw the signs somehow. Up until now, you regret asking your mother in front of all the Fabrays in a reunion why a Barbie cannot marry another Barbie. Sending you to St. Therese's was their way of trying to straighten you up. What they didn't know was that St. Theresa's was the home of the biggest gay girls in Lima. You'd learn upon entering that about 50% of the student population are gay. 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 talk about whatever's happening inside the four walls of the school's quarters. You had never answered your father's question of how your week went with: "Amazing! Second base with my girlfriend. Yeah." Nor a teacher's question of why you were late with: "We made out in the janitor's closet."

Well, except for Santana and Brittany, your two bestfriends. They would make-out everywhere. Like, everywhere. The school administrators couldn't kick them out because Santana's father was the biggest benefactor in the school. They just put them on detention as much as they could; which ironically just gave the two more time to jump into each other.

By your last year in high school, you were prepapred to come out. You knew the consequences of what you're about to do and you'd been slowly preparing yourself for them. So when you kinda outed yourself in your valedictory speech during your graduation day, 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, the proud look in your girlfriend's face, and the standing ovation from Santana and Brittany. Priceless.

-QFRB-

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 didn't come into your mind the slightest. After being admitted to New York University, it was your personal choice to be single. Dating girls wasn't really a good idea if you had that scholarship to maintain and most of your time are spent doing part-time jobs. You'd been living in your sister's apartment in New York (after your parents kicked you out) and 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 as well and the thing was, they apparently made it their personal goal to set you up with girls every minute they could. It was really starting to annoy you so last week, when you and Santana were having your scheduled Friday-afternoon coffee hour to catch up with your lives 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 defensively.

Santana 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." More than the disbelief of easily lying to Santana, you couldn't believe yourself that you actually said boobies out loud.

You knew how Santana love talking about boobies, and if it was the only way to have the topic misdirected, you gotta grab it. 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.

"And why didn't I hear you talking about this Barbie girl before? I know Brittany and I missed the last three of our Friday-afternoon coffee dates because we were busy with cheerleading practice and all... but hello, what's the use of cellphones? IMs? Facebook? Mental telepathy? And whatsoever?"

"Uh," you started. Damn it! Eventhough you were glancing sideways, you were sure that Santana was studying your reaction. 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!

-QFRB-

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. You tried thinking of calling your friends who could possibly act as your girlfriend for the night. Unfortunately, even if NYU was large and Santana and Brittany's course were different than 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. 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 rendition 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 chair 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 angrily and she was clearly alone too tonight! Hmmm… prospect number 1.

"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 back at you. 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 asked kindly. That was when you realized that you were staring. And that was when you also realized that she could be Barbie. She's a brunette. From your estimate you knew she was not that tall. And her boobies were... You glanced at that part of the girl's anatomy but glanced away as quickly, your face red from blushing.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out and concentrate on your glass. All you have to do is ask, Q. You said to yourself. She's been ditched and alone. She can be your Barbie. You felt her slipping away from her seat so you turn your head again. Wow, her ass. And the way her hair sways when she walked.

You watched as the girl went to the door of the club. You saw her threw a glance at your direction before she finally disappeared, and that moment, you regretted that you didn't follow her. But seriously, she was just one of them- those beautiful people who would really make your underwear drop but you knew you wouldn't see ever again.

-QFRB-

It had been 30 minutes and you already chugged down two orange juices but Santana and Brittany hadn't come yet. You're starting to get annoyed. Being alone in a room full of couples was the worst. You sent a text to both Santana and Brittany.

Text: Where are you?! –Q

You waited for a full 10 minutes before you get a reply.

Text: Sorry Q. We're trapped. :) Please tell Barbie we're extremely sorry. -S

You clearly knew what "trapped" meant when Santana and Brittany used that word. You instantly felt your anger meter raised instantly, and your guilt meter (of telling them you already have a girlfriend even if you didn't) instantly going to zero. You furiously stormed out of the club.

It's only 8:30. Since you cancelled your part-time job as an online tutor tonight, you had nothing to do. You decided to just walk home. It would be a long walk, but you had a lot of time to spare.

You passed by many stores, and as always, you couldn't deny yourself the smell of books, even if they were just second-hand. The anger you felt after your bestfriends ditched you was instantly forgotten the moment you entered the bookstore. You walked by shelf by shelf, and when you saw a copy of The Little Prince, your heart skipped a beat. You already read it, but you left your copy in Lima.

Just when you were about get it, a hand also reached to it, covering your hand with hers. Your gripped suddenly tightened, and you felt your anger coming back. "I saw it first," you said calmly but confidently, stopping yourself from blurting out "back-off".

The hand disappeared quickly, and you heard a giggle. You looked at the owner of the hand, and were shocked when you saw that it was that girl from the bar! You let go of the book, and smiled shyly at her. "I'm sorry. I actually read it already, so you can have it."

The girl smiled and you were blown away for the second time tonight. This time, you were sure it wasn't just about the lighting anymore. This girl was a real beauty. "You aren't following me or something, are you?" The girl joked. "I'm Rachel."

You took the hand she was offering, and with a quiver, you muttered, "Quinn."

"Nice meeting you Quinn. And you can have the book." Rachel smiled again. "Bye!"

You just stood there like an idiot, as you watched Rachel went out of the door for the second time tonight. What were the odds of seeing her again? Destiny? Serendipity? Luck? You shook your head.

You paid for the book. If you saw that Rachel again, you would give her this book, you promised yourself. Which wouldn't happen, you counter-argued. But then again, third times the luck, right?

You decided to continue your walk, but remembered that since you wouldn't do anything else tonight, you'd just finish writing your paper. What else would be a good company but a good cup of coffee?

Two coffee stores were located near each other, and you decided to go to the spookier one. You went quickly to the counter and smiled at the barista.

"One mocha-"

"One mocha-"

You looked at the source of the voice, and you shook your head in disbelief.

"-frappe, without sugar."

"-frappe, no sugar."

Rachel. It was Rachel, again. And that moment, you both laughed really hard. You were more comfortable now, so you joked, "You aren't following me or something, are you?" Which just made you both laugh harder.

-QFRB-

"Don't you think this is something? It's like in that movie Serendipity," Rachel randomly said. "Damn, I shouldn't have said my name."

You decided to drink your coffee together. After four hours of talking and being kicked-out of the coffee house because of too loud laughter, you were sure that you really liked this girl. She was amazing! You were now walking in the streets, and you felt that goodbyes would soon follow. You wanted Rachel, and you're Quinn Fabray, you'd get her. You remembered that self-monologue a while ago about giving the book to her once you see her again.

"Here, have this," you said while handing her the book.

"Really? How much will I pay for this?" Rachel asked.

You smiled. This was your first time doing this, trying to get someone else's number. "Nothing. Or maybe your phone number? Though I know it costs more than the cost of the book."

Rachel blushed, then smiled widely. For the few hours you'd been together, Quinn already knew what that facial expression meant. "I have an idea!" She cheerfully said. You saw her getting a dollar. Oh no, you thought. She won't do it. When she started writing on it, you kinda frowned at her.

"Rachel. I can't do this. We can't recreate that scene in the movie. We both know that it was unbelievable. Impossible. And won't definitely happen in real life," you explained. She'd watch Serendipity with Santana and Brittany a long time ago, and even if you were a fan of romantic movies and destiny, that one was too… unrealistic.

"Quinn, trust me," Rachel pressed your hand. "Write your number here," Rachel said as she handed back the book you gave her. You didn't do anything. But when Rachel pouted, you quickly wrote down your number. Rachel, in turn, wrote down her number in the dollar.

"This is absurd! We know we like each other Rachel, even if it was just a few hours. Why are you letting this magical connection go?"

"Wait here," Rachel said as she crossed the street. You saw her bought something with the dollar. Then you saw the vendor giving the dollar to other buyer, and there went Rachel's number.

Afterwards, Rachel dropped your book with your number on a moving bookcark, who went off quickly. This girl was unbelievable. She would never ever get that dollar again! Nor Rachel would find that book! Fuck serendipity.

"I saw the movie. I still have that elevator thingy," Quinn said when Rachel went back at her. "But let me defy the odds this time. I only have to choose between two floor numbers. If we land on the same floor, you'd go out with me. If not, I'll just hope the odds are in my favour and that I somehow land with that one dollar somewhere, even if I need to go to the moon to find it," you bargained, while tugging Rachel towards a building's lobby.

Rachel thought about it. "Okay. 35 and 53, so there'll be no cheating." Rachel went to the right side, and you went across. This was it.

"The first thing I should have asked you was your last name so that I could atleast find you in Facebook," you said defeatedly. Rachel just smiled.

"I enjoyed tonight. I really like you, Quinn." With that, Rachel's elevator door close.

You sighed and whispered. "I really like you, Rachel Berry. But you were stupid for leeting this chance of lifetime go."

This would be one of the hardest decisions in your life. 35 or 53?

-QFRB-

You didn't knew how to managed to reach the 53rd floor without hyperventilating. You were actually thinking of pressing 35 too a while ago, and then proceeding to 53rd floor if you didn't find Rachel there. But even if you think this was the most stupid test of compatibility, like ever, you hated to cheat.

The door of the elevator opened, and your eyes were closed when you walked out of the elevator. When you opened it, Rachel wasn't there. You went to the elevator across, where Rachel was riding, and saw that it was already in the 54th floor. Was that it? Did it mean you weren't meant to be?

-QFRB-

Because you think finding the dollar with Rachel's phone number and her finding that copy of the book again would be the most impossible of the most impossible things, you tried to stop thinking about Rachel. Yet most of the time, you still found yourself changing your 10-dollar bill into one-dollars. There's no harm in trying, right?

After admitting to Santana that you really didn't have a girlfriend, the blind dates resurfaced again. You'd already been to 100 dates (yes, that was not an overstatement) since that night with Rachel, and only one made it to the second date. Right now, you were on the "blind date" rest, because it was Brittany's birthday next month and Santana wanted to surprise her with your help.

You quickly saw Santana sitting somewhere at the back of the restaurant, talking animatedly on the phone. You invited yourself to sit, and when Santana ended the call, she said, "She just went to the ladies room. You'll like her." You frowned because you really didn't understand what she said.

"Who?" You asked.

"Who else? Your date!" Santana said, rolling her eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

You shot her an angry glare. "I thought we were on a blind date rest!"

"Yes. But do you remember that Barbie thing?" Santana asked. Ofcourse, how could you not remember that? That was the night you met Rachel. You just nodded, still angry at Santana. "Remember that you were supposed to have a date then? Brittany bumped with Mike the other day and tadah! She's your date now! Funny thing, she looks like the Barbie that you created in your mind. Short, brunette, and what was it again? Notable boobies." Santana said and it was your turn to roll your eyes.

Santana's eyes averted and you saw her waved at someone on your back. You glanced backwards and to say that you were surprised would be the biggest understatement of the century. Rachel, yes Rachel, was walking towards your table.

She sat down beside you, and you just looked into each other eyes, both shaking your head in astonishment, and giving shy smiles. You were quiet sure that Santana was looking at the two of you back and forth.

"I'm Quinn Fabray," you said.

"I'm Rachel Berry," she said.

You moved closer to her, or maybe she moved closer to you. You couldn't remember. What you could remember was the sweetness of that first kiss, and that in that moment, you were sure that you were going to marry this girl.

-END-