ADORED
Disclaimer:Even though this will be AU, I do not, have not, and will not own any of the characters unless they are an original character. All characters used belong to Ryan Murphy and FOX Company.
Summary: Rachel Berry and Quentin Fabray are shooting stars from two different worlds. One has her sights set on the stage while the other has his sights set on his latest challenge. We all know something big happens when two stars collide. Genderswap!Quinn. Rated M for mature language.
A/N: First time writing both Genderswap!Quinn and a story without a supernatural element. Go easy on me. And if anyone would like to be my beta, well, that would be awesome. Also, since this is AU, Shelby and Hiram are Rachel's parents, Quentin's parents actually care, and Beth obviously doesn't exist. (But that last one isn't so AU is it?) Also, updates might be sporadic. I cannot promise an update on a particular day, although I usually update during the week.
A/N2: I'm trying to write Quentin from both the male perspective and Quinn's own. It's rather difficult combining the two. But I'd like to know how I'm faring in the eyes of my readers. Reviews are highly appreciated.
Chapter One: Do It / Duets
Rachel's POV
In my room, the blinking cursor on my laptop stares back at me, mocking me. Nothing else can serve as a distraction. Not the case of awards, not the walls covered with posters, or the karaoke machine in the corner. For the first time in my life, I haven't the slightest clue what to say. Well, type, rather. For some unwarranted reason, Mr. Schue has given us homework that had nothing to do with singing. It gets worse. In an effort to bring our group even closer together, he paired us up and decided that we should spend time with our partner and write what we have learned. It was obvious that he would pair us up with someone we didn't normally get along with, but my partner wasn't who I expected.
Of all the people in glee club, he had to pair me with Quentin Fabray.
That's right. Quentin Fabray. Jock of jocks, homecoming king of kings.
First and foremost, I had no idea why Quentin was even in glee. Granted, his voice sounded nearly as angelic as my own, but he had no reason to join, let alone bring his crew. With Quentin came an influx of new members. Santana Lopez, Kitty Wilde, and Brittany Pierce were his right-hand girls. They had known each other since in vitro and were practically inseparable. When he declared that he wanted to begin singing and dancing on a regular basis, they had it in their hearts to find a love for singing as well. Other than those three, he had girls throwing themselves at his feet while the saner of the species tried our best to avoid him entirely. Getting involved with him was never a good idea. It meant suffering the wrath of the Cheerios, all of whom had fancied him at some point or another.
I could never figure out what it was that made most girls so attracted to him when they knew what could happen if they stepped within two feet of him. Maybe it was the whole fatal attraction element that really got them going. Quentin was tall and had the features of a Greek god, but there must be something other than his physique that made half our school population swoon at his feet. He was in quite a lot of my AP classes, but that certainly couldn't be the reason the girls wanted him.
With a sigh, I closed my laptop, flung myself onto my bed and screamed my frustrations into the floral pink bedspread. Doing this assignment properly means that I will have to risk my state of mind and get to know Quentin on a personal level. But it wasn't as if I'm actually getting graded on it so not completing this won't affect my chances of admittance into NYADA. What did I really have to worry about?
THE NEXT DAY
"I'm just saying, we should make a Doctor Who fan club." Sam was saying as we walked towards the choir room. The four of us – Sam, Artie, Marley, and me – had just come from our shared last class of the day, Physics. When class had ended on the topic of the space time continuum Artie brought up Doctor Who which was easily our favourite programme.
"Yeah, and all the noobs who have only ever seen one episode will want to join." Artie said, scoffing as he rolled alongside us.
"We could make it a requirement for all new members to have at least seen the ninth doctor-" Marley began to suggest, but I held out my hand.
"And suffer through Christopher Eccleston's lack of facial expressions? They can start with David Tennant."
We were laughing as we walked inside only to see the rest of the glee clubbers staring back at us with varying levels of curiosity. Our laughter stopped abruptly and we took our seats, facing a rather upset looking Mr. Schue. Insert a worn out saying about how thick tension was here, and you get the idea.
"I'm going to get straight to the point. Not one of you could find time in your busy schedules to complete your partner assignments." A chorus of surprised mumbling broke out. It had appeared that everyone thought the assignment – and their partner, for that matter – wasn't all that important. But even though valid points were made, Mr. Schue was having none of it. He raised his hands to silence the group so that he could speak again.
"You guys aren't getting off that easily. In order to look good and win at Sectionals, we have to seem like more than just a bunch of kids singing and dancing. We have to look like a family. So, I'm adding more to your assignment." He flipped the whiteboard over, revealing the topic "Duets".
"Merda santa." Santana groaned out.
"We're going to go through a bunch of things designed to bring you closer to your partner. The first item is a duet."
Mr. Schue had us spread out around the choir room with our partners to come up with a song to sing on Thursday, our next meeting. Quentin and I were seated by the piano, facing each other. He was wearing a plain black v-neck that he must purposely purchase a size too small so that his muscles stand out and a pair of paint splattered khakis. His long blonde hair flopped over one hazel eye and a charcoal pencil was tucked behind one of his ears. He was slumped back in his seat, and I couldn't find the factor that made girls throw themselves at him. Quentin smirked as he watched me assessing him and flexed as if he'd caught me checking him out.
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, Fabray, let's get this over with. What do you want to sing?"
He leaned forward, a hurt expression on his face. "Whoa, don't you want to spend time with me, short stack?"
"Contrary to popular opinion, not everyone is obsessed with you."
He propped his arm up on his knee and put his chin in his hands, staring at me with inquisitive hazel eyes. "Enlighten me, Berry. Why don't you like me?"
"Do you really need another member of your fan club?"
"You could be my fan club's President."
That actually made me laugh, but I was laughing because of how stupid he sounded. Judging by the goofy smile on his face, he may have thought that it was because I found his joke funny.
By the end of glee, we hadn't gotten very far. He wanted to do something popular and mainstream while I wanted to sing something Lana Del Rey related. He preferred something upbeat, and I preferred something slow. We had even taken out our iPods and exchanged them, but somehow we had only two artists in common: Lynrd Skynrd and Maroon 5. Everyone was getting their things together, apparently having made great progress, and we still hadn't even agreed on a genre.
"You know what this means." Quentin said to me with a smirk as he got to his feet, slinging his black Jansport book bag over his shoulder. "You have to spend time with me." He tore out a page from his backpack and took the charcoal pencil from his ear, scribbling onto the paper. As he handed it to me, I caught a glimpse of three uniform-clad Cheerios staring at our interaction.
Guess who just became enemy number one?
Well if it's a war they want, it's a war they'll get.
With a careless hair flip, I reached out to take the paper from him and let my hand linger against his for a few moments longer than necessary. The look of shock on his face nearly made me laugh, but I harnessed my inner Santana – we all have one inside of us – and winked at him playfully. "I will definitely see you later." Turning on my heel to walk out of the room, I knew the priceless shocked expression he had on his face would give me reason to laugh for years to come.
Quentin's POV
You know the phrase "It's good to be the king"? Take it from me – it is so good to be the king. Ever since puberty everyone stares at me. I am fully aware that that line is one of Maureen's lines from "Take Me for What I Am" in the musical Rent. That's what happens when you have three female best friends. Mrs. Berry, Rachel's mother, looks a lot Idina Menzel. Oh, the things I'd do to Idina Menzel. But I digress. When I hit that ripe age of 12, everything about me doubled in size. I grew several inches – you guess where – and my hair changed from a brown to a light blonde colour.
Around the same time, Kitty, Santana, and Brittany were in cheerleading camp. The four of us had been friends since birth and their obsession with becoming the popular girls they saw on TV was insane. Santana was the oldest and Kitty the youngest, but we only had three month spans in between our births. Santana was the only one of them who skipped that awkward-face-full-of-metal phase and went straight to full blown goddess. It was difficult not to fall for her or either of the others given how much time we spent together, but I hated the idea of not being able to have platonic relations.
That so doesn't mean I haven't seen any of them naked.
While they were training to become HBIC's, I was in every sport I could get my hands on. Rugby, lacrosse, football, soccer, racquetball, baseball and basketball were the most important things to me. Over the years it dwindled down to lacrosse and football, but keeping in shape for all of those paid off. I had a gym in my basement and worked out when I woke up, when I got home, and before bed every day until I turned 16. My speed, strength, and agility made it easy for the title of football and lacrosse team captain to fall into my lap during sophomore year. The rest of the school came along with them. Under my leadership, the tide turned. People began treating team members with respect and fear. The cheerleaders actually felt they had a reason to cheer – even if they didn't, my girls would give them all the reason they needed.
People wondered why I bother myself with glee club when I'd been having slushie facials directed to my fellow members since the school first came under my domain. Even though I had never been too keen on the idea of maintaining friendships with those losers, glee was a place where I could sing and dance without getting criticized for it. It was the only place I could go all High School Musical and not receive weird looks at the end of my performance.
Glee club typically means two words: Rachel Berry. It would be easy for a blind guy to see how indifferent she felt towards me. Indifference is colder than hatred, because indifference means that the person doesn't give two shits about what happens to the other. For some reason, it bothered me. Most girls couldn't resist my lingering gaze or half smirk. Maybe it was merely Ohioans, but girls were normally easy. When I look at her, she simply keeps my gaze with those deep brown eyes devoid of any emotion.
I don't like her. She just gets me curious. I want to figure out what makes her crack, what makes her scream and beg for more.
My phone rings and I withdraw it from my pocket, accepting the call.
"Hello, Quentin." comes the official sounding voice from the other end. Speak of the Devil.
"Why hello, Rachel." I sat up in bed, smirking even though I knew she couldn't see me. "I was just thinking about you."
"That's great. Are you busy at the moment?" Internally, I groaned. There was no inflection in her voice that showed that she was affected by my words.
"No, I'm not. But you're welcome to come and keep me busy for a while."
"That's exactly what I plan to do." she said, her voice low and husky. Did I imagine that, or did Berry just flirt with me again? I thought I was hallucinating earlier in the choir room. There was no way this could be a continuation. Before I could recover, she spoke again in her normal tone of voice. "We have to find a song to do for glee, remember?"
"Of course I remember. You wanna do it tonight?"
She scoffed, and I could imagine her eyes rolling as she did. "Calm your hormones. Give me your address."
I complied simply because there wasn't enough time for me to come up with a way to make my reply sexual.
"Great. I'll be over in a couple minutes. Oh, and Quentin?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop fantasizing about me."
She hung up before I could snap out a snarky comeback. Damn that girl, always getting the better of me. I desperately needed to up my A game before people found out that Rachel Berry had left me speechless.
