Let the Cameras Roll

Disclaimer: I own nothing. These characters belong to the creator of Glee.

Pairing: Rachel/Quinn

Rating: M

Chapter One

Headlines and Headstones

My mother always wanted to be the main story in a headline, who knew that that name would also be etched into a headstone that very same week? She was all over the news, the media could not get enough of the story, could not get enough of asking me, her eight year old daughter, questions about how it had happened. If only I could tell them the truth.

I would tell them. 'She was a selfish woman who would have sold her daughter to the mob if it would have gotten her attention. She probably did not actually wish to die; it had been an accident in her suicide 'attempt' for attention. That was all it was. An attempt to regain the attention that she believed that she deserved.'

I would never tell them that, I would never ruin this special occasion. Her fifteen seconds of fame.

So, instead I stood there watching as they lowered her body into the soil, the violins playing beautiful melodies in the background. I walked up there and recited the lies that I had written to flatter the woman, and I bit my tongue so hard that I thought it would bleed.

It was not that my mother was not important. She was. She was once the most famous supermodel in New York City, she reminded me every time that I attempted to have a dream, so I should know.

'Rachel smiled to herself, staring into her reflection from her bed. Pink bedspread wrapped around her small body. She was a six year old with big dreams.

Holding up her hairbrush that was littered with small golden stars she started to sing into it, pretending that it was a microphone, that she was standing on the great stage of Broadway instead of her small bed in the apartment. She danced along the edge as she sang perfectly, despite never having training because her mother had informed her it was a waste of money and there would always be better singers than her no matter how much she trained.

"Shut the fuck up Rachel!" A voice shouted up the stairs and the small girl did as she was told. Throwing her hairbrush to the ground and crossing her arms over her chest as she huffed out. Still, she forced the smile back on her full lips, her brown eyes wide as she did a curtsey for the crowd. She would not allow anything to ruin her performance.

Well, perhaps one thing.

Her mother doped up on Heroin barging into her room and grabbing her by the arm, holding her above the bed and screaming into her face. "Thanks for ruining my date with that god awful voice of yours! I swear to god! I told you to help me with men, they don't need to know I've had a kid and what do you do?"

"I didn't know—"

"Oh shut the fuck up! God damn it! When are you going to get over these ridiculous delusions you put yourself through! When are you going to realize that you are nothing! That you will never be anything!" She screamed throwing the small brunette back onto the bed.

Rachel grabbed ahold of her arm that was already showing signs of bruising.

"But mother I want to be—"

"—It doesn't fucking matter what you want! I wanted to be a model, and look at me now! I got what I wanted and I lost it Rachel! It isn't worth it! You won't make it anywhere; you will never be the best! You can't make it to Broadway, not with a face like that, not with a nose like that, not with a voice like that! You have no training, no posture, nothing! You are nothing! You will always be nothing just like me!"

Rachel did not say anything now; she did not know what to say. At this point she was used to her mother constantly belittling her talents and making her feel like she was to blame for ruining her career. Not the heroin, not the drugs, not the men, it was all her six year old daughter's fault.

"Why did I have to be so stupid and have you! I shouldn't have trusted that guy; I don't want you Rachel and no one else will." She spat.

Tears filled her large brown eyes and she sniffled as they fell down her face and she started to sob loudly. "Oh there you go crying, you little brat! Act like I hurt you or something, I never abused you, I gave you everything, I gave up everything for you!" Rachel continued to sob and her mother climbed across the bed grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to look up at her. "I said stop fucking crying! Stop crying! You act like your life is so terrible! My life is terrible!"

Her mother started to sob and she held Rachel in her arms, caving in and deflating on the bed sadly. She had no more energy to yell.

After a few minutes of silence and sobbing her mother looked down at her and she smiled, wiping her hair out of her face. "Rachel, you take my advice wrong, I'm not mad at you. I just want you to know that it isn't easy out there. There are temptations and evil people and there are a lot skinnier prettier people out there that want the same thing."

"I will make it. I will be a star." She muttered.

"You are an ignorant little brat Rachel, but I love you."

The car ride to the police station was silent, so I hummed along my favorite Barbra Streisand song.

They put me into foster care and I was adopted by two wonderful fathers, two fathers who actually cared about me. They actually spoke to me about my dreams, my aspirations, and my future. I got home from school and they asked how my day was, I did not find them on the couch with a needle in their arm only half conscious.

Now ten years of age, and she still haunted my dreams, haunted my memories. Some days I would lie in bed and just think to myself how much I hate my mother. How much better off I was now that she was gone, but then I felt horrible guilt weigh down on my heart and it nearly suffocated me.

How could someone wish such a thing and not be a horrible person?

In one dream in particular I would see her, every night. Her dead body was permanently etched into the back of my eyelids. I would always wake up a sobbing mess, screaming into my pillow angrily. I was angry with her for how she treated me, and I was angry at her for giving up and leaving me. For not believing that I was a worthy enough reason to stay alive.

'Rachel was eight years old. She had just gotten an A on her spelling test and she was so excited to show her mother the gold star sticker that her teacher had put on the top of her paper. She loved gold stars they made her feel accomplished, successful, and they made her feel proud.

Her mother never made her feel proud and that was all that she wanted, her mother to be proud of her.

"Mother, guess what! Guess what!" She screamed out as she threw down her pink backpack and ran through the house, looking around for any sight of her mother. When she did not find her she decided that she would check in her bedroom, but when she opened the door her world fell apart and she was broken. Shattered like the most fragile of glass.

Her skin went pale white and her brown eyes filled with tears as her fingers tightened around the piece of paper she was holding. Her mother was lying in her bed; the skin that had once covered her bones was carved into, torn to pieces. Her lips were cut and dangling from her chin and blood was everywhere. The scissors were in Rachel's mother's hands and she knew that it had been suicide, that her mother had taken her own life.

Running to the bed she buried her head in her mother's neck and slammed her fists down on her screaming out. "How could you do something like this! Why would you leave me! Please, come back, please!"

She never came back.

Rachel sat against the pillow staring down at her spelling test; she felt that it was her fault, that if she would have shown her mother the A she got on the test before this happened that her mother would have been so proud of her, so proud that she wouldn't have wanted to end her life.

Tears rolled down her face as she looked at the gold star, smeared with her mother's blood.'

O

"Oh come on Rachel! It's just one date." Kurt said as a smile stretched across his lips and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. I laughed and shook my head at him, and he pouted a little bit. "Please? Trust me; this girl is just your type!"

"Kurt, how can you possibly know my type? I have never even been on a date before, and with good reason, I need to focus on my career and schooling and helping pay the bills to our apartment."

"Oh pish-posh! And this girl is everyone's type! Seriously, I would date her!"

"You would not." I said.

"Okay, no, I wouldn't, but I mean if I liked girls that way I would totally date this girl. She's gorgeous!"

I wanted to say yes, I truly did. I had never had a date nor had I wanted to because I had seen the way that they had ruined my mother's life. The way that love had destroyed her, but then I looked to my fathers and I saw a different kind of love between the two of them. One that I envied and one that I wanted to find with someone.

"Kurt, I would love to go on a date, it is just—"

"—Good, I'll set it up!"

"Kurt, please don't do this?" I asked eyebrows knit together and brown eyes filled with worry, I had Broadway auditions to attend all week and there was no way that I was going to be capable of fitting in some random date. But, there was a part of me, a small part that wanted to meet this girl and see if it would go somewhere.

"Rach, you want to do this, I can tell. Come on, she'll love you."

"Well, I highly doubt that, but alright, set up the date Kurt."

O

Authors Note

I hope that you all liked this first chapter.

This story will be depressing, there will be a lot of angst but I have decided because of reviews that I will indeed give it a happy ending! :) Just have to bear with the insanity for a while before that.

If you want to read more just leave some reviews I will try and add the next chapter quickly and make it longer, just adding the first chapter to see if you all enjoy the idea.

Thank you for reading.