This is set in Senior year, Charlie has just moved from her dads to her mom. They divorced around eight years back and decided to take care of one girl each. All story lines relevant to Quinn have happened, except in relevance to the development of her friendship with Rachel, who she is civil with but still is uncomfortable around.
Charlie placed her suitcase down on the scratchy foot mat outside the Fabray household. Half of the Fabray household at least. The half that she didn't exist in. The one where there weren't any photos of her growing up, her winning a prize in photography three summers ago, her getting her puppy on her 13th birthday. The one where Charlotte Fabray was just a name and an object in a divorce settlement, flung to live in Phoenix for the last eight years, dragged back to an empty house that she would have to call home because of her dad's new job. It's just for a year, one year Char, you can do it, one year. One year until she got to go to the college of her dreams, do the course of her dreams, live her dream. She chewed her lip nervously in the darkness as the low dim of the porch light managed to light up the treaded letters on the mat bellow her feet. Welcome, my ass. Charlie thought sarcastically. She didn't like to be mean or think badly of people, actually she strived to do the opposite almost every day of her life, but somehow right now she couldn't find the light. And if she did, it was no brighter than that of the porch that late September night. Even though summer was over the damp heat of Ohio clung to her skin and she knew she would have to knock soon. What was she expecting? A parade? Balloons? No. She was expecting a bed. That's all she wanted from these people. Maybe a while ago she wanted more, to be a family, a proper family, but that was a dream that would never happen. Quinn Fabray was just an idea in her head, a story told, a photo sent, a name mentioned downed stressed phone calls. She wasn't real, she couldn't be. This enigma had haunted her all her life, memories before her tenth birthday started to fade away, the photographs clinging to her dining room walls began to look more like stories than experiences. It was as if Quinn and Charlie never really existed. Not together, and not as individuals to each other. As if the other half of her life and herself wasn't behind the door. Her stomach churned as she knew the moment was coming closer, fragments of idea flew through her mind at such a pace that she was sure she would lose her balance and faint right there. How did she ever think this was a good idea? Of course she didn't, of course she tried to fight and reason and debate, but this was for her dad. And he was right, maybe this was for herself. Just a little, or maybe a lot. But right now all she wanted to do was run. You can do this Char. Her pulse started to beat faster and the low buzz from the humming flies by the light was only adding to her light headedness. She felt her body stiffen as the door creaked, a sign of moment, a sign of the beginning of the end. She inhaled sharply as she prepared to meet her mother. Judy. The woman that agreed to make Charlie's life the way it was. The woman who chose Quinn over her. Charlie's heart sank as the door opened and that very woman's eyes gleamed back at her, just behind them, ones almost identical to hers stared back in a sickly familiar way. Quinn Fabray.