Disclaimer: These people are shallow, self-absorbed, and moronic and that's
after I got through with them. Do you think I'd maintain ownership even if
they were mine? Ha!
Summary: Quinn gets fed up with her "perfect" life and decides to rebel. Rock and Roll, grunge, and belly button piercing here we come! And she finds a partner in crime within the Fashion club. Hey, whoever said that the popular were happy?
Note From Author: I don't know when exactly this is set. I only watch Daria sporadically and don't know everything about everything so die-hards beware.
The Spark
Quinn sat on her perfect bed looking at the perfect clothes she had bought after school today with her perfectly popular friends. The day had gone just the way that Quinn expected; Sandy discussed the virtues of plaid over polyester, Tiffany fell asleep during math but artfully so Sandy had no reason to degrade her, and poor Stacy spent fifteen minutes crying because she wore the "wrong" shoes with her pale blue miniskirt. Basically the same insane dribble of everyday. I used to enjoy this. Some how picking out clothes and matching lip-gloss just didn't hold the same appeal as it had before. Its that tutoring I did this summer.Even as she thought it she knew it wasn't true. It had been building for some time, the feeling that all her life was a big empty space. To match the space between my ears. Snorting Quinn kicked the nearest pile of "fashionable items" off her bed. The Gucci shoes made a satisfying "thump" as they hit the wall. Even that small vent didn't diminish the helplessness she felt. I am a fraud. Worse I am a shallow, self-centered, sur tout of a snob.
"Grrr." Jumping off her bed Quinn headed to her closet shoving aside the clothes that hung neatly inside, pushing her way to the back of the closet. On casual inspection the back of Quinn's closet was like any other but she there was a secret compartment in it probably built by the previous owner of the house. Quinn didn't know who built it. She hadn't really cared when she first found it a couple months after moving to Lawndale. It was purely an accident that she had ever found it at all. Quinn had been throwing a fit over an insult Daria had delivered an hour before that she had finally gotten when she threw her glass at the wall thinking that it would sound dramatic forgetting that the cup was made out of plastic and wouldn't shatter on the wall like she wanted. It was a heavy though, heavy enough to trigger the mechanism that opened the secret compartment. It was full of old papers and other things that at the time she had thought was junk.
Quinn cleaned it out and started using it to keep the things she didn't want anyone to find. It started out with a journal about all the stupid things that Sandy said or did and all the "mean" things that Daria had said that day. Then she started putting things in it that weren't considered "popular" enough to be kept in plain sight were anybody - the Fashion Club and especially Sandy - could see them. Then lately it had transformed it to a safe haven where she could keep the things that if anybody saw them wouldn't just be embarrassing but would be devastating to her popularity. The tutoring she had received this summer hadn't changed Quinn it just was the spark that lit the kindling.
Quinn started rummaging through the copies of Wraith and the CD' from Creed and a home burned CD from a little band called Mystic Spiral that she had picked up in the local music store when Sandy wasn't looking. The track had been so good that she had risked buying it with Sandy around and she had almost had a panic attack worrying that Sandy would see. The inside of the compartment looked like it belonged more to Daria than to Quinn and Quinn hoped to god Daria never found out about it. I can just imagine Daria coming and asking, "Can I borrow your Death's Door lipstick?" The horror. No, Quinn wanted her cake and she wanted to eat it too. She had spent her life being popular and she was afraid of what people would think if they found out there was more to her than fashion. Better to let them think I'm a total airhead than only a semi-one. I don't think I could take their rejection of me if the found out I was more than I seemed.
Finally finding all of what she was looking for Quinn spread out her haul on the floor around trying to make a decision. I have been planning this for so long do I really want to go through with it? Resolutely she grabbed the temporary hair dye and bruise black lipstick and nodded to herself. I just might go insane if I don't try something.
* * *
I leave sitting for sitting. Quinn took in the decor or the C&B short for the Crash and Burn bar. The people dressed in gothic or grunge, the band playing in the background, and the discussion going on about the newest slasher flick "Come Out, Come Out, Where Ever You Are" and shook her head. Yeah, but this is a lot more fun. Quinn had been recognized immediately as a newbie but it didn't seem to make much difference to the regulars or old hats. They seemed to find it amusing and had taken her under their wing, so to speak, showing her around.
No one had recognized her as Quinn Morgendorffer the Vice President of the Fashion club they just knew her as she introduced herself as Angele. Quinn couldn't say she could blame them. Even if they went to Lawndale High, which was doubtful the C&B was located in Millersville an hour and a half drive from Lawndale, which was one reason why she picked it. The outfit that she was wearing also had been chosen specifically to keep people from guessing who she was. Quinn's outfit consisted of a skintight black leather body suit with purple paneling. Her boots also made of black leather had three-inch heels and they climbed the whole way up her calf. Pretty much the exact opposite of her normal wear. Even her make up was different from the usual. Quinn's makeup was sheer artistry. She didn't powder her face but instead bronzed it adding purple and silver highlights to the cheeks. Still considerate of fashion Quinn's eye shadow matched the exotic theme she was using. The combination made her face look more angular and more regal. Her hair usually a strawberry red now was the shade of an iris, so dark a purple that it was almost black. Most people might assume that Quinn's favorite color is pink from the clothes she wears everyday but the truth is her favorite color is purple. Quinn only wears pink all the time because it's considered a normal color and makes her look more innocent. Right now Quinn wanted to be the opposite of innocent. Actually she'd settle for free but since she could get away with it she was going for rebellion.
The band had finished its finial set and Quinn knew she had to leave but she didn't want to go back. Back to a home where her mother is more attached to her cordless phone than to her daughters, back to where her father is even more clueless than she used to be, back to a sister who thought of her only when absolutely necessary and then only with contempt. Not that I blame Daria. The way I act, I'm surprised she hasn't devised of a way to make my death look like a justifiable homicide.
It was quarter past twelve when Quinn got home wearing a pink dress and white strap sandals gone were the leather and hair dye. She had also redone her make up into a no less subtle style but one that was more her norm. This change had been preformed in the closest rest stop. I could just see Sandy's face if I told her I changed in a dirty bathroom stall. Helen just glanced up from the work she had spread all over the coffee table when Quinn came in forty-five minutes past her curfew. Not even looking at her she said, "Date run late dear? Don't let it happen again. Ask your father for you allowance tomorrow dear." And then Quinn ceased to exist to Helen Morgendorffer as she lost herself in finance reports and legal clauses. Did I really expect anything else? Damn it yes I did. All this time and I still wanted to see some sign that mom at least cares. I went through all this trouble to change and she probably would never have noticed any way. Sighing Quinn trudged up the stairs to her room. Daria's door was open and as she walked past Daria said, "Just my luck I thought the monkeys had finally cared you away."
"No. I bribed them with a banana to go after the Olson twins instead." Quinn replied too tried to really think about what she was saying. She didn't pause and so she missed the expression of shock on her sister's face. Daria blinked and tried to right her worldview as her sister walked past her.
* * *
Quinn was bored. In fact she was more than just bored she was bordering on ennui inspired thoughts of suicide. Wonder if eye shadow's toxic? Today's meeting of the Fashion Club was being held at Stacy's house and the first twenty minutes were spent telling her how every little thing in it was wrong. Sandy sure gets a kick out of putting poor Stacy down. Stacy couldn't do more than cry and tell her how she'd fix everything. Then the meeting moved on to more important matters, whom were they taking to the First Dance? Sandy had to approve of each guy. First she'd always go through each of the guy's faults and how much money they had and on and on. Quinn could barely restrain her yawns. How could I ever find this fascinating? Trying to find anything to focus on other than Sandy's droning voice Quinn suddenly notice something. Under Stacy's bed a CD case was sticking out. Focusing on it she was shocked, it was a Mystic Spiral CD! Stacy had noticed that Quinn wasn't paying attention to Sandy any longer and tried to figure out why. Following Quinn's gaze she found her looking at a CD sticking out from under her bed. Scared she met Quinn's gaze pleading with her not to tell Sandy sure that she would any way. Only to have Quinn wink at her. Stacy was so flustered and confused she didn't hear Sandy's questions about her date plans.
"Stacy are you listening to me?" Sandy's nasal voice finally cut through the haze Stacy was in.
"Of course Sandy." Stacy said in a properly submissive tone. Sandy arched an eyebrow and Stacy began to panic. Ready to blurt out a fierce string of apologies Stacy was saved by the bell. Literally. The doorbell rang. Stacy jumped up. "That's the vegetarian pizza with no toppings and no sauce. I'll get it." She practically ran from the room.
Sandy opened her mouth ready to make a disparaging remark but was interrupted by Quinn. "I'll go with her." She calmly rose and followed Stacy's frantic flight. She heard Sandy's jaws click together behind her.
Quinn descended the stairs in time to see Stacy hand the delivery boy the money. She stopped half way as Stacy turned. Startled Stacy almost dropped the pizza. Oh my god. What do I say? I've got to thank her. My mother would kill me if I got kicked out of the Fashion Club and she could have blabbed to Sandy. Then I'd be done for. I just had to have their CD. They're so different and new. But how can I get her to understand that? She's one of the elite. Why'd she do it anyway? Probably to get me to do something for her, back her on something. Oh, it doesn't matter she helped me I got to thank her.Determined to express gratitude for Quinn's silence Stacy took a deep breath and said, "ThankyoufornottellingSandyabouttheCD.Iknowit'sunpopularandIshouldn'thaveitb utthesongsaresogreatandIcouldn'tresist.You'renotgoingtotellherareyou?Icanget ridofitIcan…"
Quinn cut her off. "Calm down Stacy. Breath." Stacy nodded and started to take loud wheezing breaths. Seeing that Stacy was following her instructions she continued. "Don't worry. If I turn you in I have to turn myself in as well." Stacy was so shocked she stopped breathing again.
Breathlessly she asked, "You mean you…" Quinn nodded. "Wow." I guess I don't have to get her to understand. She knows already. Who would have guessed. At a loss for words again Stacy stood jaw going up and down until a voice descended from on high.
"Does it take an hour to pay an acne victim for pizza? We're waiting!" Sandy's voice was full of ire. Probably offended that her earlier prospects for abusing had been denied. Stacy looked up at the ceiling in alarm, petrified.
"Our Lord and Master hollers." Quinn joked trying to cheer Stacy up and reassure her that Sandy wouldn't kill her over two minutes. She always looks like a skittish deer when some one says something to her.
"You mean our Lady and Mistress." Stacy tentatively joked back. She didn't sound nearly as self-assured as Quinn. Quinn smiled encouragingly. Then turned and ascended the stairs once again missing the absolutely relieved look on Stacy's face.
Summary: Quinn gets fed up with her "perfect" life and decides to rebel. Rock and Roll, grunge, and belly button piercing here we come! And she finds a partner in crime within the Fashion club. Hey, whoever said that the popular were happy?
Note From Author: I don't know when exactly this is set. I only watch Daria sporadically and don't know everything about everything so die-hards beware.
The Spark
Quinn sat on her perfect bed looking at the perfect clothes she had bought after school today with her perfectly popular friends. The day had gone just the way that Quinn expected; Sandy discussed the virtues of plaid over polyester, Tiffany fell asleep during math but artfully so Sandy had no reason to degrade her, and poor Stacy spent fifteen minutes crying because she wore the "wrong" shoes with her pale blue miniskirt. Basically the same insane dribble of everyday. I used to enjoy this. Some how picking out clothes and matching lip-gloss just didn't hold the same appeal as it had before. Its that tutoring I did this summer.Even as she thought it she knew it wasn't true. It had been building for some time, the feeling that all her life was a big empty space. To match the space between my ears. Snorting Quinn kicked the nearest pile of "fashionable items" off her bed. The Gucci shoes made a satisfying "thump" as they hit the wall. Even that small vent didn't diminish the helplessness she felt. I am a fraud. Worse I am a shallow, self-centered, sur tout of a snob.
"Grrr." Jumping off her bed Quinn headed to her closet shoving aside the clothes that hung neatly inside, pushing her way to the back of the closet. On casual inspection the back of Quinn's closet was like any other but she there was a secret compartment in it probably built by the previous owner of the house. Quinn didn't know who built it. She hadn't really cared when she first found it a couple months after moving to Lawndale. It was purely an accident that she had ever found it at all. Quinn had been throwing a fit over an insult Daria had delivered an hour before that she had finally gotten when she threw her glass at the wall thinking that it would sound dramatic forgetting that the cup was made out of plastic and wouldn't shatter on the wall like she wanted. It was a heavy though, heavy enough to trigger the mechanism that opened the secret compartment. It was full of old papers and other things that at the time she had thought was junk.
Quinn cleaned it out and started using it to keep the things she didn't want anyone to find. It started out with a journal about all the stupid things that Sandy said or did and all the "mean" things that Daria had said that day. Then she started putting things in it that weren't considered "popular" enough to be kept in plain sight were anybody - the Fashion Club and especially Sandy - could see them. Then lately it had transformed it to a safe haven where she could keep the things that if anybody saw them wouldn't just be embarrassing but would be devastating to her popularity. The tutoring she had received this summer hadn't changed Quinn it just was the spark that lit the kindling.
Quinn started rummaging through the copies of Wraith and the CD' from Creed and a home burned CD from a little band called Mystic Spiral that she had picked up in the local music store when Sandy wasn't looking. The track had been so good that she had risked buying it with Sandy around and she had almost had a panic attack worrying that Sandy would see. The inside of the compartment looked like it belonged more to Daria than to Quinn and Quinn hoped to god Daria never found out about it. I can just imagine Daria coming and asking, "Can I borrow your Death's Door lipstick?" The horror. No, Quinn wanted her cake and she wanted to eat it too. She had spent her life being popular and she was afraid of what people would think if they found out there was more to her than fashion. Better to let them think I'm a total airhead than only a semi-one. I don't think I could take their rejection of me if the found out I was more than I seemed.
Finally finding all of what she was looking for Quinn spread out her haul on the floor around trying to make a decision. I have been planning this for so long do I really want to go through with it? Resolutely she grabbed the temporary hair dye and bruise black lipstick and nodded to herself. I just might go insane if I don't try something.
* * *
I leave sitting for sitting. Quinn took in the decor or the C&B short for the Crash and Burn bar. The people dressed in gothic or grunge, the band playing in the background, and the discussion going on about the newest slasher flick "Come Out, Come Out, Where Ever You Are" and shook her head. Yeah, but this is a lot more fun. Quinn had been recognized immediately as a newbie but it didn't seem to make much difference to the regulars or old hats. They seemed to find it amusing and had taken her under their wing, so to speak, showing her around.
No one had recognized her as Quinn Morgendorffer the Vice President of the Fashion club they just knew her as she introduced herself as Angele. Quinn couldn't say she could blame them. Even if they went to Lawndale High, which was doubtful the C&B was located in Millersville an hour and a half drive from Lawndale, which was one reason why she picked it. The outfit that she was wearing also had been chosen specifically to keep people from guessing who she was. Quinn's outfit consisted of a skintight black leather body suit with purple paneling. Her boots also made of black leather had three-inch heels and they climbed the whole way up her calf. Pretty much the exact opposite of her normal wear. Even her make up was different from the usual. Quinn's makeup was sheer artistry. She didn't powder her face but instead bronzed it adding purple and silver highlights to the cheeks. Still considerate of fashion Quinn's eye shadow matched the exotic theme she was using. The combination made her face look more angular and more regal. Her hair usually a strawberry red now was the shade of an iris, so dark a purple that it was almost black. Most people might assume that Quinn's favorite color is pink from the clothes she wears everyday but the truth is her favorite color is purple. Quinn only wears pink all the time because it's considered a normal color and makes her look more innocent. Right now Quinn wanted to be the opposite of innocent. Actually she'd settle for free but since she could get away with it she was going for rebellion.
The band had finished its finial set and Quinn knew she had to leave but she didn't want to go back. Back to a home where her mother is more attached to her cordless phone than to her daughters, back to where her father is even more clueless than she used to be, back to a sister who thought of her only when absolutely necessary and then only with contempt. Not that I blame Daria. The way I act, I'm surprised she hasn't devised of a way to make my death look like a justifiable homicide.
It was quarter past twelve when Quinn got home wearing a pink dress and white strap sandals gone were the leather and hair dye. She had also redone her make up into a no less subtle style but one that was more her norm. This change had been preformed in the closest rest stop. I could just see Sandy's face if I told her I changed in a dirty bathroom stall. Helen just glanced up from the work she had spread all over the coffee table when Quinn came in forty-five minutes past her curfew. Not even looking at her she said, "Date run late dear? Don't let it happen again. Ask your father for you allowance tomorrow dear." And then Quinn ceased to exist to Helen Morgendorffer as she lost herself in finance reports and legal clauses. Did I really expect anything else? Damn it yes I did. All this time and I still wanted to see some sign that mom at least cares. I went through all this trouble to change and she probably would never have noticed any way. Sighing Quinn trudged up the stairs to her room. Daria's door was open and as she walked past Daria said, "Just my luck I thought the monkeys had finally cared you away."
"No. I bribed them with a banana to go after the Olson twins instead." Quinn replied too tried to really think about what she was saying. She didn't pause and so she missed the expression of shock on her sister's face. Daria blinked and tried to right her worldview as her sister walked past her.
* * *
Quinn was bored. In fact she was more than just bored she was bordering on ennui inspired thoughts of suicide. Wonder if eye shadow's toxic? Today's meeting of the Fashion Club was being held at Stacy's house and the first twenty minutes were spent telling her how every little thing in it was wrong. Sandy sure gets a kick out of putting poor Stacy down. Stacy couldn't do more than cry and tell her how she'd fix everything. Then the meeting moved on to more important matters, whom were they taking to the First Dance? Sandy had to approve of each guy. First she'd always go through each of the guy's faults and how much money they had and on and on. Quinn could barely restrain her yawns. How could I ever find this fascinating? Trying to find anything to focus on other than Sandy's droning voice Quinn suddenly notice something. Under Stacy's bed a CD case was sticking out. Focusing on it she was shocked, it was a Mystic Spiral CD! Stacy had noticed that Quinn wasn't paying attention to Sandy any longer and tried to figure out why. Following Quinn's gaze she found her looking at a CD sticking out from under her bed. Scared she met Quinn's gaze pleading with her not to tell Sandy sure that she would any way. Only to have Quinn wink at her. Stacy was so flustered and confused she didn't hear Sandy's questions about her date plans.
"Stacy are you listening to me?" Sandy's nasal voice finally cut through the haze Stacy was in.
"Of course Sandy." Stacy said in a properly submissive tone. Sandy arched an eyebrow and Stacy began to panic. Ready to blurt out a fierce string of apologies Stacy was saved by the bell. Literally. The doorbell rang. Stacy jumped up. "That's the vegetarian pizza with no toppings and no sauce. I'll get it." She practically ran from the room.
Sandy opened her mouth ready to make a disparaging remark but was interrupted by Quinn. "I'll go with her." She calmly rose and followed Stacy's frantic flight. She heard Sandy's jaws click together behind her.
Quinn descended the stairs in time to see Stacy hand the delivery boy the money. She stopped half way as Stacy turned. Startled Stacy almost dropped the pizza. Oh my god. What do I say? I've got to thank her. My mother would kill me if I got kicked out of the Fashion Club and she could have blabbed to Sandy. Then I'd be done for. I just had to have their CD. They're so different and new. But how can I get her to understand that? She's one of the elite. Why'd she do it anyway? Probably to get me to do something for her, back her on something. Oh, it doesn't matter she helped me I got to thank her.Determined to express gratitude for Quinn's silence Stacy took a deep breath and said, "ThankyoufornottellingSandyabouttheCD.Iknowit'sunpopularandIshouldn'thaveitb utthesongsaresogreatandIcouldn'tresist.You'renotgoingtotellherareyou?Icanget ridofitIcan…"
Quinn cut her off. "Calm down Stacy. Breath." Stacy nodded and started to take loud wheezing breaths. Seeing that Stacy was following her instructions she continued. "Don't worry. If I turn you in I have to turn myself in as well." Stacy was so shocked she stopped breathing again.
Breathlessly she asked, "You mean you…" Quinn nodded. "Wow." I guess I don't have to get her to understand. She knows already. Who would have guessed. At a loss for words again Stacy stood jaw going up and down until a voice descended from on high.
"Does it take an hour to pay an acne victim for pizza? We're waiting!" Sandy's voice was full of ire. Probably offended that her earlier prospects for abusing had been denied. Stacy looked up at the ceiling in alarm, petrified.
"Our Lord and Master hollers." Quinn joked trying to cheer Stacy up and reassure her that Sandy wouldn't kill her over two minutes. She always looks like a skittish deer when some one says something to her.
"You mean our Lady and Mistress." Stacy tentatively joked back. She didn't sound nearly as self-assured as Quinn. Quinn smiled encouragingly. Then turned and ascended the stairs once again missing the absolutely relieved look on Stacy's face.