It could probably be traced back to the red carpet of Quinn Fabray's very first movie role.
It was a small role, with less than a dozen lines of dialogue, but it had a few big names in it and she was invited to walk the carpet when it premiered at Tribeca.
So maybe it was her connections from Jodie Foster's Clambake who were to blame…or thank.
Or maybe it was her ex-boyfriend, Steven, who cancelled on her at the last minute.
Or maybe it was inevitable.
Quinn had been sharing an apartment in Manhattan with Rachel and Kurt since graduating from Yale. It wasn't always smooth sailing, and she had to put up with her fair share of diva tantrums, but they also put up with her and at least Kurt helped keep the apartment clean.
That's what Kurt was doing that Saturday, cleaning the kitchen, while Rachel and Quinn bought groceries. Or at least that's what he was supposed to be doing. When he heard the keys in the door he slammed his laptop shut and flew off the couch, rushing to the kitchen to pick up some dirty mugs.
"I'm telling you, Quinn. It's eleven years, not twelve," he heard Rachel insist as the door swung open.
"No it's not," Quinn's tone was matter-of-fact but playful. "In fact, I'm willing to bet you dinner that I'm right."
"Hello Kurt," Rachel addressed him as they entered the kitchen with several bags, overstuffed with food.
He looked up and caught Quinn's eyebrow raised at the lack of progress he'd made in cleaning. He quickly turned away and back to the task at hand.
"Ladies," he greeted them. "What's the bone of contention today?"
He heard Rachel huff but he refused to turn around, afraid of the silent wrath Quinn Fabray might unleash with only her gaze.
"Oh, it's just Quinn trying to pretend she knows more about Broadway than I do," she tossed over her shoulder as she walked towards the living room.
"She's about to be proved wrong," Rachel said as she sat down on the couch and reached for Kurt's laptop. "I'm just going to use your laptop, Kurt."
"Wait Rachel, no!" he called loudly, stumbling over a grocery bag in his haste, but it was too late.
She was looking at the screen with a frown and his stomach lurched.
He debated making a run for the front door but his feet were rooted to the spot.
"QUINN," Rachel shrieked just then.
"Rachel," he started but she made no move to acknowledge him, continuing to scan the screen with wide eyes.
"So are you ready to concede?" Quinn asked as she entered the room, trailing off as she looked between Kurt who was still frozen in horror and Rachel, who ignored her.
Suddenly, without a word, Rachel stood up and handed the computer to Quinn.
Quinn looked at her questioningly before gazing down at the words on the screen. She scanned the page quickly and her cheeks reddened.
She closed it, returned it to the table, and looked back at Rachel. It felt as though she was watching the countdown to an explosion, but it never arrived.
"Kurt, what is that?" Rachel asked in an eerily calm voice.
He swallowed before responding.
"Well, it's called RPF," he began. "Real Person Fiction and it's, uh, well it's about the two of you."
When he received no response, he took it as his cue to continue.
"I found it about six months ago and–"
"Six MONTHS ago?" Rachel roared, finally breaking the peace. "Why didn't you tell us about it? I could have gotten my publicist to take it down, or…or I don't know, done something. How could someone write a story like this about us?" she motioned between herself and Quinn, who still had not uttered a word.
"Honey," he started calmly. "It's not just one story. There are over three hundred stories."
"Three hundred?" Rachel whispered, with a tinge of awe. "But…"
He motioned for them to sit, but neither woman moved so he stayed standing and continued.
"From what I can tell, it's been going on for almost two years. Ever since the 'Flowers for Sarah' premiere.
"Some of them are sure you're a couple, others aren't convinced, but everyone WANTS you to be a couple," he finished.
"Me and…Quinn," Rachel shook her head incredulously.
"Yes Rachel. You and Quinn," he chanced another look over at Quinn, whose features were perfectly schooled into a mask of nonchalance.
"But why would you read them?" Rachel questioned.
"Well I don't read the smutty ones," he responded.
"There are SMUTTY ONES," Rachel exploded, rubbing her temples.
Quinn slipped quietly from the room at that moment, closing her bedroom door behind her.
Several hours later there was a knock at Quinn's door, and a head of long brown hair poked inside.
"I brought you some food," Rachel said quietly as she waited for a sign that she could come in. Normally they went in and out of each others' rooms with ease, but this time it seemed right to wait.
"Thanks Rachel," Quinn said, sitting up and smiling as Rachel made her way over, passed Quinn the plate and settled onto the other side of the bed.
"Are you alright, Quinn? You haven't said anything."
"I'm fine," Quinn replied, reaching out to give Rachel's hand a reassuring squeeze. "How are you?"
"Well it's been quite the evening. You wouldn't believe the things that Kurt showed me," she paused momentarily.
"I admit it's slightly overwhelming that they are so invested in whether or not we are romantically involved, but they love it, they love us."
She was pretty sure that wasn't going to be the argument that convinced Quinn, fiercely private as she was, but Rachel couldn't ignore that small part of her that had always kind of, but not really, but sort of thought having a stalker was truly 'making it'.
"They look at photos of us at events, for instance at the press event when they announced the cast for the Aladdin national tour, and they analyze the way we look at each other and how many times we touch or hold hands.
"And they were keeping track of how many times you came to see the show when we were touring. I don't even know how they would know that but they do.
"Like Kurt mentioned, there's a video of our interview at your premiere, and they go gaga over it, convinced that we're staring at each other, completely besotted."
If Quinn knew what Rachel was talking about, she didn't let on. She just continued to eat the sandwich Rachel brought and listened.
"And then, and this is what you saw, they write stories that fill in the blanks between all these moments. Or they take us and put us in another situation entirely, like meeting for the first time on the set of a film or giving us completely different jobs and history.
"I still haven't gotten to the bottom of why Kurt is reading it and why he didn't tell us about it, but I will," she finished with a nod just as Quinn took her last bite and placed the plate on the nightstand.
They leaned back against the headboard, Rachel's arm falling naturally between their bodies, while Quinn consciously kept her hands to herself.
Her relationship with Rachel wasn't something she spent a lot of time thinking about. It just was. They were close, like lots of close girlfriends, and of course that translated to holding hands or lying in bed talking until all hours of the morning.
But skimming that page of text, which described some overly saccharine, grand romantic declaration of love from the top of the Empire State Building, awoke something inside her. Sure, the story was tacky and Quinn didn't think she'd ever actually be okay with such a public and predictable display of emotion, but it suddenly had her questioning herself.
She'd been in the same spot, staring up at the ceiling for hours, contemplating the question over and over.
'Do I have feelings for Rachel?'
Ever since Rachel stepped in for Steven the first time, there was never any doubt that Rachel would be her date to any premieres, parties or other industry events that followed. She used to tell herself it was because Rachel was so good at networking, and that it was good for them to be seen at each others' events.
But the longer she thought about it, the harder it was to ignore the funny flip her stomach would do whenever Rachel emerged from her bedroom dressed in a form-fitting dress with her hair swept to one side.
She couldn't help but remember the tingling in her palm whenever Rachel held her hand on red carpets, or played with her fingers while they lay in bed talking.
There was no avoiding the fact that looking Rachel in the eye caused her breath to catch, or that being around her made Quinn happy in a way she didn't think she ever had been.
She knew Rachel would be getting anxious about her silence.
Rolling her head to the side, she took in Rachel's profile for a few seconds, before Rachel turned to meet her gaze.
"I think I need to tell you something…"
To be continued (after Faberry Week!)