Rachel grinned sheepishly at her sandbox friend, holding up what looked to be a soap bar of just . . . unconventional proportions. Quinn, being very young at the time, laughed merrily, picking the bar up and flying it around like a plane. Wonderful, Rachel thought, sitting down beside a joyful Quinn.

"I believe this is the start of our official friendship! We're now graduating from the sandbox!" she mentioned, smiling just a bit too brightly considering the situation. Quinn had no qualms, patting the shorter girl's head, and offering her a turn of the monstrous soap bar.

"Sure Ray. Here, try it!"

This was their beginning, the start of the end, you could call it.

….

Years passed by, however the soap remained, as did their friendship. By now, they had split the soap, cut it cleanly in half. They used it, now and again, but miraculously, whenever they would meet together, comparing halves, the pieces would always fit together. Rachel had stated it was fate, that they were meant to be together, as they sat under a tree in the park. Of course Quinn, having grown older, had laughed at the notion, brushing off her seventh grade cheer uniform, and tossing a stone into the water.

"Jeez, Berry you're crazy." Berry. That was what Quinn had resorted to calling her now. No longer were they on a first name basis. Not that Rachel minded, Quinn was her star, her light in the dark. It didn't matter what she was called, as long as Quinn would always shine with her. Not literally, as it was a metaphor, and metaphors are important. It was one of the few things they agreed on.

They had their first sleep over at eighth grade. Rachel always shared her love of Broadway, and music. Quinn had mostly spoken about some humongous guy on the football team. Rachel had seen him. She had to admit, his smile was quite charming, but everything else about him was . . . awkward, as many people were in that grade.

"I can't comprehend what you see in him. He's clumsy, and always smells like Twinkies." Quinn had only shaken her head, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"He's the quarterback, and I'm head cheerleader. We would be the ultimate power couple." Was that what relationships were about? Status? Rachel knew about the hazel-eyed girl's family. They were all about status. Status was the reason why she wasn't allowed to stay over at Quinn's house. Status was the reason why Quinn had to lie to them about conversing with her. Rachel vowed to grow up, and go on Broadway, to not only earn the status as, but live as a loving person, instead of what the Fabray family thrived themselves on, a fake one. They tried to display this loving, flawless family. It was all fake, a family of lies, chips, cracks and dents. Rachel hated that Quinn was sucked into it, therefore once Quinn finished explaining, the smaller girl smiled crookedly at the blonde, leaning over to kiss her cheek, hoping to wash the plastic away. Quinn blushed, a gentle hue dusting her cheeks.

That was when Rachel knew that Quinn wasn't a star. She was better than that. She was the moon, the brightest thing when the sun goes down. Unlike the sun, you could stare at her, without a single repercussion. She was beautiful.

Ninth grade was the start of new things. Finn. Finn had begun joining them on their outings; he was the newest addition to their circle. Quinn had said he was just a friend, despite her constantly pining after him. Rachel suspected something, but even as Finn began claiming a spot in Quinn's heart, she knew there would always be an even bigger vacancy for her . . . right?

Delusional. How could she have even thought she was important to her? Eight plus years of friend ship is nothing compared to some jock boy with a stupid smile. Quinn, her moon, her light in the dark, had left her. She had flaked, to go on a date with Finn. A date. Rachel got them front row seats to see Wicked on Broadway, scheduled their flight, packed their bags, and she had flaked to go on a date with Finn at Breadstix. Not even the ice cold slushy thrown at her face that morning had stung this bad.

Status. It was all going back to status. He was perfect for it. He had staked a bigger part of Quinn's heart, all because of status, all because he was a Christian quarterback. He was just too perfect for it. It was all that mattered to Quinn.

She held up their fragile friendship, giving 90 as the latter gave – gave what? Nothing, she gave nothing. It was always that way. Rachel going out of her way to spend time with Quinn, to hold her as her parents pressured her into tears. Rachel standing out in the rain for hours as Quinn forgot their planned picnic. She was, and will always be second choice.

"I promise I won't leave you." It had been at one of their many sleepovers. Quinn's older sister Frannie had moved out, heading off to college leaving Quinn the main target of two overbearing parents. She had sobbed, begged, and in the end, would not release her hold on Rachel until she vowed to never leave Quinn alone. She had stayed true to her word, through thick and thin. It was painfully ironic how Quinn would end up departing from Rachel.

Quinn would cancel just about anything. It was either for Santana, or Brittany, or Finn, or just that she hadn't been in the mood to hang with Rachel, the "midget diva that couldn't shut her trap".

Soap slipped across her fingers, being crushed under pressure. It was over. They were over. It wasn't Quinn and Rachel anymore. Had they really even existed at all?

Her tears were salty, bitter as they ran down her face.