Blue.
Quinn Fabray does not appreciate the little things in life. What more can a simple joke be than a laugh? No, it does not matter what the joke is about or who tells it, it is nothing more than a passing laugh. That ladybug on the flower outsider her window? It is not a metaphor for how big the world is and how small something like a bug or a human is. No. It is just a ladybug. Seeing a heart in the clouds? Could that be a symbol for what's to come? No. It means nothing.
Quinn learned at an early age that while the little things can cause excitement, they do not compare to the bigger things. Having to come home from school everyday, locking the door to her room so her parents would never walk in on her crying? Being tormented by kids, ruthless, cruel kids who knew nothing about her? Enrolling in a new school with new hair, a new nose, and a new attitude just to avoid taunts? Those were big things and they did nothing for Quinn Fabray's life except force her to become so entirely focused on an image she didn't have to be.
She hates it.
Rachel Berry does not particularly care for the little things in life, either. There are bigger, more important things to focus on (prom, the next Glee solo she's been working on, and her dream of achieving New York City to name a few). Though, she does enjoy the occasional note in her locker that simply says Hey, let's do lunch. And she enjoys that curly Q signed at the bottom.
Rachel was given a large mouth for a reason. While others say it's a curse because she talks so much, she believes it is a gift. She sings and speaks her mind and people have to listen to her (or so she thinks). But, she was also given ears and although some claim she does not use those ears to listen to others, she begs to differ. How else would she recognize an amazing performance? How else would she know the latest going on's throughout the Glee Club? Rachel uses her ears alright and they are at their best when patiently listening to the frustrated sighs and grief from a friend.
They sit in an empty hallway, one hoping time stops so she does not have to go back to godforsaken class, the other wishing she had words of consolation.
Quinn leans her head back, staring blankly at the wall across from them. Flyers for the bake sake, paintings from an art class, campaign posters for prom (including her own). She wants to tear everything down. She's even about to get up to do so, but Rachel's voice is soft, "Those things have done nothing for your life,"—Quinn puts her palms to the floor to help herself up, she's done with this—"but made you into who you are right now. You aspire to be this beautiful, stunning person not because you were forced to be, but because you want to be."
Quinn says nothing. What more can a simple talk with a friend be than a conversation?
An inspiration.
Author's note: It's four days until June 12, but that's the point. There's more to come. Happy birthday, Shisha. c: