Author's Note: The style of this story is unlike any I have ever used. However, the choppiness of the sentences directly correlates to how the character is feeling. Characters are not named, they are given titles, labels, instead. Only one is significant enough to be named.

She lived in a fairy tale world. Her parents loved her. Her quarterback boyfriend loved her. She was the queen bee; she was the most popular girl in school. Then she ruined her pristine life. She got pregnant by her boyfriend's best friend. Her parents disowned her. Her quarterback boyfriend left her. Sue Sylvester kicked her off the cheerleading squad. She lost any popularity she once owned. Kids shoved her into the lockers as she walked down the halls. No one cared about her anymore. She was no one. She was alone.

She gave up her baby. She was no longer the pregnant outcast in high school. Her parents decided to let her come back. At first, she thought her life would be getting better. Then she realized her father spent the months she was vacant from the house turning into an alcoholic. She, also, soon realized he needed a source, an outlet, for his anger. She soon realized she deserved it – or at least that is what he told her. And it went back to her being daddy's little girl, and little girls always listen to their daddies.

She may be a cheerleader again, and her queen bee status back in tact, but it was difficult to put the façade in motion. Her fairy tale lifestyle did not mesh anymore with who she was at school. The uniform fit, but it covered up bruises – emotionally and physically.

She found herself using the bathroom as a hiding place. It was a good excuse to avoid the responsibility of being head cheerleader. She no longer wanted to walk down the hall and for all to stop. She did not want anyone to look her way. She came out of the stall, and found a girl wiping blue slushie out of her hair. The girl was Rachel Berry. She did not want to be in the restroom anymore. But, it was pretty unavoidable. They were not friends. Rachel Berry told her quarterback boyfriend the baby was not his. She ruined everything, or at least she thought so at first. But, then she became grateful that Rachel did something she couldn't do. They still weren't friends. However, Rachel Berry's slushied hair, right now, was by all means her fault. She implemented them to make the losers and the outcasts feel even worst about themselves. But, then she got one in her face. No one should be that ridiculed, that embarrassed, that degraded. Rachel Berry probably had had the most slushies to the face in McKinley history. So, as she came out of the stall, wanting to avoid a girl, who was not her friend, she instead went to get some paper towels. She handed one to Rachel.

"I hate Wednesdays," Rachel looked at her, accepting the towel graciously, "always blue. Blue is the worst."

She didn't say anything, just watched the tortured girl wipe her hair with the wet paper towel – one after another. Rachel needed another one. When she returned, Rachel was eyeing her, "What?" she asked confused.

"What happened to your wrist?" Rachel questioned, taking the new paper towel.

She had forgotten to put her Cheerio sweater back on after the trip to the bathroom stall. The sweater covered up the bruises in which were too visible. Ones that meant her father were too drunk in anger that he did not care where he hurt her. "I'm a cheerleader," she had to answer the brown haired girl. Rachel threw away the last paper towel; she must have believed the timid cheerleader.

Not so quickly, Rachel Berry turned back towards the battered girl, "That is not a cheerleading bruise." It was all she said, and then she left. Just like that, the singing diva ruined everything for the blonde, queen bee – again.

She didn't want to admit it, well, never out loud, but sometimes the songs they sung at glee practice changed her. They sung to her after they found out she was having a baby – they told her to keep holding on. And she did, she held on until her parents found out, and kicked her out. Then they told her to lean on them. They told her to lean on them, even after she had caused pain to them. So, she leaned on them, well, for a little while. Then she stopped, because no one deserved to have to support another, especially a pregnant other. She stopped doing everything she had been doing, and she was shunned, she was ignored. No one seemed to notice she stopped leaning, Then one day in glee, they had to sing about angst, about build up pain, discrimination, degradation. No one believed a pretty, little, white girl could feel an ounce of any of the above. Then she sang, and they began to understand. They cared again. So, glee helped her more than she would admit. Especially since, she joined to be a spy. She could never admit it that it changed her, even with a room filled with outcasts.

She walked in two minutes before practice started, and they all watched as she found a seat away from the group. While everyone looked away, Rachel Berry's eyes were still on her. She hated Rachel Berry. The glee teacher walked in and Rachel's eyes now focused on the newly assigned task. She barely heard the words being said, she no longer wanted to be there. All she could think about was, "That is not a cheerleading bruise." It was enough work to remember to hide the bruises, and carry the weight of being her father's punching bag, on top of being the head cheerleader. Those three consumed her already, but not Rachel Berry had to make things more complicated. Wasn't her life complicated enough?

At that moment she found out never to question anything. She stood to leave, because regardless, if the lesson was over, she was leaving. However, her life had to be more complicated. When she stood, she fell right back down. This might be worst than a slushie to the face – passing out in the middle of glee practice.

She woke up in the nurse's office. She saw three people staring at her: the nurse, her glee teacher, and Rachel Berry. This is not what she wanted, so, she immediately got off the table. "Stop, you can't go anywhere," her teacher tried to stop her. But, he was a male, and nowadays, she freaks out when a male touches her.

"Get your hands off of me," it was the only thing she wanted to say to her father, but she couldn't. It would hurt too much – she already knew from experience.

Her teacher put his arms up, surprised by the reaction of the very, private queen bee. She froze, she didn't know what to do, "I'm sorry." She pleaded with him not to hurt her.

"Your blood sugar was extremely low, have you eaten anything today," the nurse pondered.

This broke her from her frozen state, "I wasn't hungry."

The nurse pulled out some crackers, "Well, you need to eat, that is why you fainted."

The cheerleader locked eyes with Rachel; she didn't know why either, it just happened. It was as Rachel took the cue that she didn't know she was giving, "I'll make sure she eats them," extending her hand for the cracker. "We just need a little air."

The singing teacher was still unsure as to what was happening, or had happened. But, he trusted the diva to take care of the cheerleader.

Rachel grabbed the crackers with one hand, and put her other on the cheerleader's shoulder. No one said a word until they were all the way outside, sitting down. The blonde put her hands to her head, and all she wanted to do was to scream, or to cry. But, neither was allowed. "You should probably eat the crackers," Rachel tried.

But, crackers would do nothing for the broken girl; she grabbed the crackers and threw them, "You don't get to tell me what I should do. You don't get to look at me with those sad eyes. You don't get to tell me that the bruise on my wrist is not from cheerleading. You don't know anything about me," she locked eyes again; it was hard to look away.

"I'm sorry," Rachel stared at her, longing to know what was going on.

"You don't get to say you are sorry," that didn't seem too fair. She got up to leave, but lightheadedness brought her back down. "You can't tell anyone," she changed her tempo from anger to sadness.

Rachel got up and retrieved the crackers, "There is nothing to tell," the small girl told the blonde, knowing there was so much more going on than a broken cracker. "You don't have to tell me anything," she soothed, though wanted to know how the most confident, popular girl was close to tears over cracker crumbs.

She looked up, almost revealing the whole truth in her eyes, "No one would understand."

It had to be much more than the singing prodigy could have imagined, "I could understand."

That is when she cracked; that was the moment the perfectly put together queen bee, head cheerleader, broke to pieces.

Thoughts? Quinn never felt worthy enough, she was hiding behind the labels that the other defined her as. Rachel knows who she is, even if this resulted in being her slushied.

This was meant to be a stand alone, however, there is room to continue...