Disclaimer: Sadly, Glee does not belong to me.

A/N: So I'm more of a Buffy crossover writer, but I've been thoroughly obsessed with Glee and thought I'd take a stab at single fandom fanfic. I hope I do the show justice! Oh, and warning to all Finchel fans, I love my Puckleberry! Takes place during Blame It on the Alcohol.

Rachel let out a squeal as she hung up the phone. She had a date!

Take that Finn Hudson, she thought giddily. Other boys find me desirable and wish to date me.

She pointedly ignored the fact that before last night, Blaine said he was homosexual. After all, they had kissed, and it was amazing.

This definitely needed to be recorded in her memoirs.

She leapt up from her bed and headed over to her desk, putting the phone back in its proper place before opening the drawer. As she pulled out the jewel-encrusted journal, her eye caught the half-empty bottle of white zinfandel still sitting on top of the desk.

For a brief moment, she hesitated. She had originally used it to bolster her courage to call Blaine. Having accomplished her goal, however, she was unsure of what she should do with the rest. She quickly made up her mind, however.

No need to let a perfectly good bottle of wine go to waste, she thought.

In fact, it seemed rather sophisticated of her, sipping a glass of wine as she penned this latest chapter of her autobiography.

With a smile, she began thumbing through the pages of her journal to her most recent entry. She was surprised to see that she had let some time pass since she had last written – before the half-time performance, in fact.

Biting her lip, she began to recall the events she had neglected to enter and winced; some of them had not been her finer moments. Perhaps she should compose a few drafts – in a completely separate notebook – before those particular events got recorded for posterity. To make sure they fully reflected the complexity of those situations, of course.

For right now, though, she would focus on the happier moments, such as her kiss with Blaine, as well as her desire to compose an original song for Regionals.

As she began to write this down, however, she was reminded of how everyone had shot down her idea, including Mr. Schuester. And how once again Finn had done nothing, even though he had agreed with her after the fact in the hallway.

He claimed that it was because they wouldn't have listened anyway, and perhaps he had a point, but it suddenly occurred to her that that it was yet another time he was embarrassed by her, to stand by her no matter what the cost.

She angrily emptied her glass with one swallow and poured herself some more, taking huge gulping sips as she stewed over this revelation.

Grabbing her pen again, she decided to put all her thoughts and feelings on the matter down on paper, as it would be an excellent exercise in emotional awareness. As the words poured out, however, so did her annoyance.

Would she ever come first? And would she ever find someone who wasn't ashamed by her? And what exactly would it take for the rest of the club to appreciate what she brought to it?

Before she knew it, she was reliving every single injustice she had received as of late (somewhere in the back of her mind, Rachel thought that there might be a correlation between her sudden anger and the now empty wine bottle, but it got lost amidst the righteous indignation she was feeling), and it overwhelmed her until she finally slammed her pen down and reached for her phone.

This would not do. She had a few things that she had to get off her mind – and not just to Finn Hudson, though he would certainly get an earful, thank you very much – and she simply would not be able to sleep until she accomplished just that. To do anything else would be unhealthy for her emotional and physical well-being, and that was one thing would not sacrifice for anyone anymore.

Rachel walked into the school, bleary-eyed from the previous night's libations. She made a mental note not to drink an entire bottle of wine on her own - particularly on an empty stomach - ever again. And would that sickeningly sweet taste ever leave her mouth? Which, she discovered, was only made worse by mint toothpaste and not better like she had hoped when she had brushed her teeth in the morning.

As she made her way to her locker, she was vaguely aware that she was receiving many strange looks. Though she felt a little self-conscious due to her current state, this was (sadly) nothing unusual, so she just ignored them and continued on her business.

She had an inkling something wasn't right, however, when she noticed some of her fellow glee members staring at her. They usually just ignored her, or if they did look, it was with a certain amount of contempt and ridicule. This time, however, there was something more… ambiguous behind some of those looks.

Holding her head high, she chalked it up to shock – shock that Rachel Berry was finally learning to live a little, showing the telltale signs of a hangover for a second day in the row. Part of her, however, secretly wondered if she had done anything… rash the night before. Especially since she had a hard time recalling how the night had ended.

She had spoken with Blaine; that much she remembered. After that, though, the events became less clear. She had a brief memory of talking on the phone, but a quick look at her call history showed no incoming or outgoing calls. She also vaguely remembered writing something down, so before she had left for school this morning, she had looked at her journal to see if it would provide some insight.

To her horror, her normally meticulous handwriting had been replaced by pages and pages of a rambling scrawl in her otherwise pristine journal. She had been able to make out certain words, such as 'dramatic gesture' and 'insult', but that could apply to many aspects of her life (and unfortunately, she hadn't had time to further decipher her words before she had to rush out the door, her usual timely routine completely abandoned, as it did not allow time for dry heaving or bouts of dizziness).

And now she was receiving strange looks…

She brushed this from her mind. There wasn't time to dwell on what may or may not have transpired the night before. They had a performance before the school tomorrow, and she was determined that this one would not end in failure. Or embarrassment. Or most importantly, slushies. Therefore, she had to focus and get through Glee rehearsal today - preferably without vomiting. This would just have to wait.

Besides, how bad could it possibly be?

A/N: Sorry this part is so short, but it's just to set the scene. The next chapter will get into the good stuff, like who Rachel called and what she said…