"So, I'll pick you up at Seven, 'kay?"

"Sounds great. I'll see you then."

Rachel watched as Finn leaned down to kiss Quinn on the cheek, and she tried to ignore the knot in the pit of her stomach as she turned swiftly on her heel and walked away, because she honestly couldn't stand there for another second and watch them because it made her sick, because no matter how much she said she was over Finn, and no matter how much she ignored how she often thought for a second she was jealous of Finn, not Quinn, watching them still made her so mad.

It had been like this ever since they had announced they were going out again. Despite Puck giving them a hard glare every once in a while, and a few of the fellow glee clubbers giving their sentiments on how much of a bad idea it was, the two of them seemed very happy. They had both once again risen to the top of the popularity ladder, and they were a shoe in for Prom Queen and King.

Finn would be the star again, and Quinn would have her crown. Everything was as it should be.

And honestly, it wouldn't bother her so much. Really, it wouldn't- if it wasn't for all the long glances that Finn would give her, or all the times Quinn would stare at her, and whenever the brunette would catch her eyes they would look so pained and guilty. She just wanted to scream, If you feel this terribly, why the hell are you doing this to me!

It also wouldn't be as bad if she had someone to talk to about it. Someone to relate- but look around. Who the hell could relate to her? She was surrounded by happy couples, and pretty girls who could get a guy just by batting their eyelashes and rubbing their fake silicone breasts against them.

Rachel wasn't really pretty, so she couldn't do that. And she certainly wasn't in a happy relationship. So who the hell was there to relate with?

The person she thought she could maybe possibly relate to was Kurt- but because she had been so wrapped up in her own problems, she hadn't even noticed that things had gotten so bad for him that he had to leave. It made her feel even more miserable about herself. That she was so horrible that she hadn't even noticed that one of her friends was hurting that badly.

So now she was stuck here alone, wallowing in the depths of pain and self loathing and pity- and she just wanted to scream, and scream until her throat was raw and then maybe she would finally feel better.

So she waited until after the bell had rung, and after everyone had left and she made her way to the auditorium. She shoved the doors open with a little more force than necessary, but it felt good so she went back and did it again.

Standing on the stage, for a moment she didn't know what to do. Should she sing some deep, emotional song? Should she do one of her favourites from when she was a kid? Should she do a heartfelt love song to try to be funny?

Then she remember earlier. As she was storming down the hallway- that one moment of primal rage driven urge to just let loose, to let it all go and let all her emotions flow out.

So she took a large inhale of breath

And she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Years and years of practice and lessons that worked to make her lungs that of a singer worked perfectly as she continued to shriek, almost loving the way that she could hear just how hurt and angry it sounded as it bounced off the walls, and by the time her voice gave way to a voiceless hiss, her eyes were wet and there were tears rolling down her face and she fell to her knees and just continued to cry- not giving a damn anymore if it made her seem desperate, or moody, or pathetic. She just needed to cry.

"Well, you seem like you're having fun."

She threw her head up so quickly she swore she had snapped her neck in half. Her eyes widened as she realized who was sitting in one of the front seats, legs crossed and looking...almost amused? Oh great.

"What do you want Santana?" The Latina girl shrugged, raising from her seat and making her way up the steps. "Not much?" she replied with a slight smirk, though her tone was more gentle than Rachel had ever heard it.

The brunette made quick work of wiping her eyes, but even if Santana had just gotten there, her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her voice came out in croaks from all the screaming. She must have really looked pathetic. Perfect target for Santana's silver tongue.

But Santana didn't laugh at her, or mock her, or run off to tell everyone about what she had seen.

She just kneeled down so they were both at eye level, and murmered softly, "Are you okay?"

And Rachel snapped.

"Why the fuck do you care!" She swore, as she quickly got to her feet, "Why does it matter to you! You should me laughing shouldn't you! I look like a joke! A god damn...joke, so don't act like you care!" She vaguely realized that Santana's eyes had gone wide from shock, and that she was screaming again, but the words just kept coming, "No one really cares! You all think I'm annoying, that I'm a nag, that I'm ugly and un-popular- and you're right! I do nag a lot! I'm not the prettiest girl in school! And I'm definitely not popular- but I try! I try to be someone people like, someone who can get someone to love them, but it just never works out! So don`t pretend like you fucking care!`

It had gone eerily quiet, the only sound being Rachel`s heavy breathing, and the sound of tear drops hitting the stage, and she had started shaking because she realized that she had just poured her soul out to Santana of all people. Santana! And who knew how she was going to use this against her! Oh god, she would probably tell Finn, and then Quinn, and then-

"I told Brittany I loved her."

All thoughts came to a sudden halt, as she looked at the other girl in shock. "What...?"

Santana closed her eyes, as she got to her feet. "I told her I loved her." She sighed, "And I meant it. I realized that...I'm...into girls."

"You mean you're a lesbian?"

"I don't like fucking labels!" She snapped, then softened a bit as she saw Rachel flinch. "But yeah, I guess. And I mean...I think she loves me back," her expression hardened, "But she loves Artie. And she says that she can't break his heart like that. So, here I am. The stupid, bitchy, lesbian slut left all alone while the love of her life runs off to have a fairy tale romance with a fucking cripple."

Rachel would have usually commented on not insulting Artie like that, but Santana looked so...heart broken. And it was almost humbling to see that even her of all people- someone so talented and gorgeous could not get the love of their life- just like her.

It made her feel like she wasn't as alone as she thought.

And before she knew it, she was hugging her, and Santana started to cry on her shoulder, and she ended up tearing up too, and they both just stood there hugging and crying.

Maybe it wasn't perfect. And they both certainly had a long way to go before they got to where they wanted to be.

But they weren't as alone as they felt.