Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters, nor Songs for a New World.

WARNING, THIS IS A SPOILER OF THE CONTENT OF THE PIECE

Prompt: Quinn & Rachel lost touch after the 1st year of college. 8 years later, after Rachel has made it in Broadway, she tries her luck at movies & attends an event in LA where she sees Quinn (screenwriter). They catch up & it turns out that Quinn is engaged to a woman, she tells Rachel that once upon a time she had feelings for her but never had the courage to tell her. At the end of the night when they are saying goodbye they hug & Rachel says "Just so you know, I loved you, too. Bye, Quinn"

A/N: This is a prompt response I got a while ago on Tumblr from wishing-and-hoping. I've kept and been meaning to get around to it. It was a beautiful concept and really spoke to me, so I decided to write it. I drew inspiration from the song "Stars and the Moon" by John Robert Brown's musical Songs for a New World. It's an amazing song, so look it up if you have the chance. It blends in well with the piece. The piece turned out better than I thought it would, but it's first person, which I don't use that often.

Give me your opinion when you finish it, please. I'd really appreciate your review.

Stars and the Moon

TheSilentPen

"I'll give you Stars and the Moon
And a soul to guide you
And a promise I'll never go
I'll give you hope to bring out all the life inside you
And the strength that'll help you grow
I'll give you hope and a future
That's twenty times better than any Hollywood plot."

~"Stars and the Moon," Songs for a New World

Have you ever wanted something so badly, you'd forsake everything to have it?

The wanting builds up like burning bile in your throat and your fingers itch to reach out and take, no matter what stands in the way?

You'd destroy anyone... Do anything to gain what you'd always dreamt of having?

Have you ever reached out to take when something unexpected... Something gilded, golden, and sacred makes you forget that wanting, gnawing desire?

And what if she reaches out to you and begs you to take from her, will you?

All you give up everything you've ever wanted to seize her hand? Forget the poisonous desire you've worked so hard and so long to sate?

Will it all be for naught?

Will you forget what you've wanted for love?

For the small town girl that begged you to take her hand and dare to be happy. The girl that wanted you to stay in her arms a little bit longer to drown yourself in her love. The girl that urged you to wait a little longer to rise together and make something of yourselves?

Or will that fear of never realizing your dreams... Of being a small town loser devour you?

Will it consume you with thoughts of 'what happens If she never wants to leave this happy, safe little bubble? What if she wants me to stay here with her... What if she begs me to stay?'

She'll die without your love. Some nights you think you'll die without her.

That's enough for you to stay a while.

But that fear... That poisonous desire... The beckoning of the city lights call like a Siren's song.

...And you break her heart.

You didn't want to. You never wanted to hurt her.

But you had to. There was no choice.

Because all that small town girl can offer you is love.

All she could offer me was love.

Love was never enough.

Love isn't secure, isn't steadfast or constant. Love won't give you your dreams, or help you in achieving them.

Love begs you to stay and wait a little longer. Love is silent and gives you nothing to stay for. Love says nothing as you board the train to capture your dreams. Love sends you emails for a year, emails which trickle into a steady stream of silence overtime, till you stop bothering to check your inbox and staring searchingly at the screen of your phone.

So I chose Broadway.

I chose my dreams.

I chose happiness

...Time...

...Time is a cruel thing.

It slips through your fingers, reminds you of every choice you've made along the way.

Your decisions echo into the future and reverberate back into your ears, startling you with clarity.

Regrets, I think, ring loudest. Crescendo with each passing year, till your ear drums are battered by the sound

Regrets haunt... Tease you forever. They wait to taunt you with some little sliver of "what might have been." Give you little tastes of the infinite possibilities and of happiness that could've been had you not shut the door so long ago.

I've tried my best to live my life without regrets. I try not to look back into the past and wonder about pointless "what ifs" and "maybes."

It's never done me any good to wonder at it. To wish it had been different when life can't be anything other than what I've made it.

Decisions are final. All the nails have been hammered in and long since rusted. There is no escape.

Wishing things would be any different than they are? Wishing for anything at all?

That's a waste of time and energy.

But no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to stop regretting the mistakes I've made with her.

I can't stop mourning her loss in my life.

All I've ever wanted was to sing. Sing and share my music on Broadway with a crowd of thousands of faceless unknowns. They'd come to share in my love and listen to the stories the lyrics tell. To see me act out the lives that have been written down for ages, those soft calls through the typed page and the ink blot of each note across the page.

Life has never been kind to me. People have never been kind to me.

I've had to make my own way in the world. Fight my way through life.

In high school, no one wanted me. They treated me like a pestilence and sought to throw me away.

I was different than them. I had the audacity to dream and hope for something greater than their approval.

I thought nothing of them because they'd done nothing to step out and be exceptional. They craved the approval of others, but did nothing to earn it. They needed people to love them in order to validate themselves.

So they punished me.

They tripped me in the halls, they threw their drinks at me, hoped and wished I'd disappear.

But I wouldn't be silenced. I wouldn't disappear.

My dreams were greater than their taunts. Bigger. Better.

Nothing would stop me.

I'd make it to Broadway and show them.

I'd have the last laugh.

But it'd be a hard path. A lonely path.

I had no delusions that the oath to Broadway would be easy.

But I'd make it.

I started working. Saving up money. New York would be expensive. Tuition would suck me dry.

I buried myself in music theory and singing. My life became all about performance. Glee club was put on back burner. New Directions had nothing to offer that I couldn't reach out and seize myself. No one else seemed to care…

Why should I put in the energy if no one else was determined to get what they wanted? No matter how I tried, they never listened. Not a single person cared what I had to say.

So I stopped paying attention.

The world blurred about me. My friendships fell to the wayside. My obsession with Finn faded into a cheap, meaningless crush, and then dissolved into nothing more than an embarrassing memory.

I looked at my life in Lima as a stepping stone. It was temporary. It wasn't my home, merely a means to an end.

There was no need to get close to anyone. I'd be gone in two years.

I thought I might as well cut ties while I still could.

But she wouldn't let me.

Quinn wouldn't let me.

She started out as my tormentor. The captain of the cheerleaders brought down to size by her scandalous relationship with the school's resident bad boy.

We hardly spoke and I hardly cared about her.

But she made herself noticeable. Waved her arms at me, fought her way into my life. She made me care for her when I shouldn'tve cared.

She'd slushied me, tripped me, and called me names. I had every right to turn her away when she asked for my help.

But I couldn't turn her away.

Not when she needed my help most. Not when a baby's life hung in the balance.

After Finn's rage forced her out onto the streets, I helped her. I gave her shelter in my home and a room to stay in. My Fathers helped her pay the medical bills and she was never left hungry.

At first, neither of us made any sort of special effort to get to know one another. There was a gradual lessening in her insults, till the daggers she threw became blunted, and sharp hazel eyes became soft with something indescribable.

She began to listen to me, and in return, I offered to listen to her without a shred of judgment.

Who was I to judge when I wronged others as well?

Sleeping with Puck might have been wrong, lying to Finn might have been wrong, yes.

But keeping her baby? Choosing to stand forward and rise to the occasion rather than abort?

I couldn't offer any judgment against someone that strong. It was not my right.

There rose a sort of strange kinship between us. She understood me, and I her.

She knew what it was like to be the lowest of the low. To want to escape from Lima because there lay so much potential in the future. She understood my desire to get on stage and share my voice with the world.

I understood her strength and quiet determination. Her desire to escape from Lima in order to prove that she was more than the 'screw-up' her family had dubbed her as. That she was so much more than a pretty face.

When Beth was born, I was there when Quinn cradled her in her arms for the first and last time. When the tears clung to her lashes as she handed away the only person she'd ever loved. I dried her tears, gathered the shards, and reassembled them.

I lay in the dark with her the following weeks and let her sob into my shoulder. I kissed away the salty trails that fell each time we passed a child and his mother.

I let her talk to me… let her wonder out loud where her baby was. I gave her hope when she needed it most and told her Beth would be loved no matter where she went.

I told her that she'd given Beth her best chance and that she'd always love Quinn in some special way.

And Quinn tightened her grip and buried her face in my shoulder. She believed every word I told her and clung to the truths I spoke.

She never let go.

She was there when I met with Juilliard, UCLA, and NYADA representatives. She was there when I auditioned, when I wrote my essay, and assured me.

She was there through each obstacle I faced. Told me that I'd get in wherever I applied to.

Quinn loved me when I needed it most.

She never told me… never spoke a word of it. But it was in her eyes, in her touch, and in every soft, understanding smile.

It was in the way she'd glance over at me and tell boys "there's someone else… it's not you." In the way she held me, in every crease and dimple….every smoky edge of her laughter. In every note of every song she sung.

And… I loved her.

I told her with my eyes, with my music. In every note on every page and in every song I'd ever written.

We never told each other we loved each other.

…But I suppose we thought we had more time.

I did.

But she started to talk of staying… just a little longer.

She was emancipated, needed time to work out the money and logistics. She didn't know what she wanted to do with her future yet. All she knew was that she would leave eventually.

Beth came back into her life, and Quinn's resolve weakened a bit more. The adoptive parents offered the chance to connect with Beth. Offered Quinn a chance to get to know the daughter she'd given up.

With each passing month, the definite desire to leave, to make something of herself waned. Quinn wanted more time. Needed it.

She asked me if I would stay back for a year. Maybe a little more. Give her time, save up together, and step forward into the future…

…I chose Broadway.

I chose Juilliard and never looked back.

I was young and naïve and I thought that we could make it. That I could hang onto her, even from New York. That our bond, forged over three years of struggling and living together, would be enough to keep us together. To keep us talking.

Instead, we fell to pieces.

First, she didn't email back the next day. I didn't pick up my phone after dance practice. Skype sessions began to wane.

Quinn moved out of my Dads' house and got her own apartment.

The line of communication stretched thin, tapered, and then cut.

Until one day, I woke up and a year passed.

A year went by without Quinn Fabray in my life.

The thought floated briefly in my mind, almost like an afterthought. It dissipated, and I moved on with my life.

Emails started to bounce back… out of service phone numbers.

We lost contact.

All I did was shrug my shoulders, harbor the sting in my heart, and focus back on my dreams.

I chose Broadway.

I struggled to make myself known on Broadway. I buried myself, once again, in my land of performance and music. Friendships were an afterthought. Classes were imperative. Nothing else mattered except the final destination.

This time, there was no Quinn Fabray to pull me from my stupor.

So the years passed.

I made my first role off-Broadway and climbed from a chorus girl to a leading role. I struggled and lived a Bohemian existence, waitressing and struggling to get by.

The fifth show I worked in moved to Broadway… buzz spread around the Great White Way about the small girl with the huge voice. People came to see me, rows sold out in days.

I started signing autographs each night. First one or two, then a dozen, then a hundred. People pushed past security just for the chance to say a single word to me. Someone proposed at the stage door after one of my best shows.

I did revivals of RENT and Les Mis…

One day blended and bled to the next. The roar of applause became a loop of continuous cacophony as I performed night by night by night.

Tony Awards came, then a Grammy for my first album.

I was where I belonged. It was everything I'd ever wanted.

…But it didn't feel like it.

The applause felt empty. The praise felt hollow and wooden. The money like cheap paper.

I'd sit in my apartment every night after a show, surrounded by my awards, by the newspaper clippings on the wall, flipping through pictures of my casts and my accolades. I'd throw parties and bask in the praise that had been given to me after surmounting every obstacle in my life.

…And I wondered why I felt so empty.

Why everything I'd ever done felt… meaningless.

Wasn't this supposed to be what I wanted? What I'd dreamt of?

…Wasn't this what I'd given up love for?

I'd throw myself back into my work after that, didn't think of what I was missing. Never gave an afterthought to it.

Whenever I felt that sickness welling up in my throat, I shoved it down and performed. I sang and pretended as though nothing else mattered.

Eight years slipped by, swift and cruel. I succeeded in keeping Quinn Fabray from my mind.

…Until I saw her on the front page of the New York Times.

'Blonde Bombshell Screenwriter Sweeps Oscars.'

There she was. Quinn Fabray, on the front page of the newspaper, every bit as beautiful as I remembered her.

My heart stopped. I held the paper in my hands, fingers trembling.

There she was. After eight years. Eight long years and she'd come right back into my life.

And the regrets? That's when they started to pour right back into my heart and plague my mind.

Thoughts of two teenage girls that had been the best of friends… that'd loved one another and been too afraid to say it. Girls who'd thought they'd had a little more time… Had been naïve enough to think that the world would slow for them.

And I thought of the singer… the ambitious, hardnosed, idiotic singer who'd let her greed and determination take away the only thing that had ever really meant something.

I swallowed my regrets. I wouldn't let myself mourn what I'd lost.

Her world was moons away from mine.

I needed to continue on where I was needed. Broadway.

I'd given Quinn up for it.

…I wouldn't let my juvenile decision be for naught.

We'd never cross paths, of that I was sure. Broadway and Hollywood were so far apart.

Till my agent came through with a film offer.

A chance to network with some Directors and Screenwriters at some event down in LA.

A chance for me to earn my EGOT. A little way to step forward and extend my talents.

"The benefits," she'd told me, "would be lucrative."

So I said yes.

I said yes and left New York, left the Great White Way to trade it for a camera lens and a chance at National Stardom.

…That's when I saw her again, for the first time in eight years.

I arrived at the event early, swathed in red silk and stilettos, co-star from my most recent musical at my elbow.

I stood in the corner, mixed and mingled with the Hollywood elite, smiled empty smiles and listened to their empty promises.

My eyes wandered the room, studying every crease in each face and memorizing each expression.

…Till my eyes fell on dark, familiar hazel.

She stood several feet away, dressed to the nines in gray, tailored silk trousers, matching vest, a pressed white oxford with the sleeves crisply folded at the elbow, and a loose black tie about her slim neck.

Time smoothed out her figure and shaped every regal, sloping feature of her body. The smiling twinkle in her eye faded as the happy crease of her lips quieted. A sad, melancholy green fell about her irises as she studied me from beneath the brim of her fedora.

My heart pounded in my chest, my arm falling from my companion's as the artificial smile left my lips.

We stood there like strangers, looking at each other with a sad, secret knowledge traded between us. No longer naïve girls, now women jaded by time and experience.

She turned quickly to her party, murmuring an apology before she stepped forward, making her way across the room.

When she came near, a sad, knowing smile played across her lips as she spoke in a soft, husky voice.

"Rachel," the word fell across my ears and sent shivers down my spine. "It's… been a long time."

"It has," I acknowledged with a cheerless curve of my lips. "…What are you doing here?"

"I'm discussing a business venture with a producer," she replied. "I write screenplay."

"I saw the article in the New York Times," I gave her a smile. "Congratulations on the Oscars."

"And you for your Tony," she replied. "I saw you in Wicked. It was brilliant. You were brilliant."

'Then why didn't you tell me yourself?' I thought to myself. 'Why haven't I seen you…?'

Then I reminded myself.

I'd made the choice. I'd closed the door.

I chose Broadway.

I uttered a thank you, my gaze flickering toward the tile of the venue.

We stood there in silence a moment, shifting restlessly.

Quinn's stance squared as she looked up, tilting her head the slightest bit before she spoke.

"Would you like to go outside?" her voice was soft, nervous. "Catch up a little bit?"

"That'd be wonderful," I said.

We stepped outside onto the makeshift balcony, lights from the city lighting the stone as we stood beside each other, staring over the railing at the busy traffic below.

"What's brought you to Los Angeles?" She was the first to speak, adjusting her position to face me. "It's a long way from New York. Is something special happening?"

"I'm looking to expand my roles," I said, following a line of cars with my eyes. "I'd like to go into film… My agent said this would be the perfect opportunity to network."

"I never thought I'd see you in film," she remarked.

My eyes snapped toward her. "Pardon?"

"You loved singing so much back in High School," she clarified. "I thought Broadway would be your life. That you'd never leave till you couldn't sing another note."

"I'll go back sometime," I said with an easy smile. "Broadway is my home. I'll never leave it… not completely. Some part of me will always stay there.

"How about you?" I asked. "I didn't know Quinn Fabray had a knack for writing. How'd you get into screenplay?"

"USC," she provided. "I did two years at Lima Community College, jumping around, trying things… I fell in love with theatre and writing. It seemed logical to do screenwriting. I transferred to USC and started interning around the area."

"That's great," I shifted my weight to lean against the rail. "I always knew you'd be great at whatever you set your mind to, no matter what it was. I'm happy everything turned out alright for you." I paused. "How's Beth?"

Quinn chuckled. "Beth's… great. She's really into music. I think Mr. and Mrs. Bennett are going to let her take piano lessons soon. She's really excited." Quinn reached into her pocket, dug her phone out, messed with it, and handed it to me.

A little girl with brown hair and soft chocolate eyes grinned mischievously in Quinn's arms. The happy twinkle in her eyes seemed to echo in Quinn's eyes. A 'Student of the Month' certificate glinted under the flash of the camera.

"She's beautiful," I whispered, finger tracing the baby-ish curve of Beth's cheek. I looked up at Quinn with a smile.

Inside, I felt numb.

I'd missed this.

I handed the phone back to her. "I'm so glad you get to know her, Quinn. She looks like a blessing."

Quinn studied me, hazel boring into brown as she pocketed her phone. Her gaze fell to the floor for a moment as she licked her lips, swallowing heavily. "…She's your biggest fan, you know."

My eyes widened. "Really?"

Quinn nodded. "She asks about you all the time. Asks what it was like to know you, what you were like… If you're ever going to come visit."

My eyes dulled in pain, the slightest hint of agony piercing my heart. "Quinn."

"I tell her you're busy," Quinn shoved her hands into her pockets. "I tell her that you've got a lot to share with the world… That you're doing what you love and that you need to show everyone how beautiful music is."

She pauses, before looking up. "I don't know what else to tell her. I don't know what happened to us…

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. "...I don't know what happened to you."

My chest stung. "I was scared. Young and scared."

"Scared?" Quinn's brow furrowed. "What was there to be scared of, Rachel?"

"I was scared of you," I motioned between us. "Of this. I wanted this so badly that I didn't know what else to do. Then you wanted time… and I wanted Broadway. If I stayed, I didn't know if I'd ever have it.

"I hoped we'd stay close, that if I left, we'd still be us," I ground my teeth. "But I thought I had to choose one or the other… so I chose the only thing I thought I could choose."

"Broadway," Quinn's voice was a whisper. "You chose Broadway."

I looked away, ashamed.

Yes, I'd chosen Broadway. I'd chosen what I thought would have brought me the greatest happiness, and I lost her in return.

I thought I had to choose.

…But I hadn't.

I could've kept it. Us.

"I'd always wondered why you stopped writing," Quinn said softly. "I'd always wondered when you'd write again. I wanted to see how much I mattered to you. I stopped writing daily. I wanted to see if you cared enough. If you noticed me when I was gone.

"But your emails… you stopped writing," Quinn trembled. "When you did write, they were short and abrupt. I thought I was an annoyance, so I stopped writing too. I thought you didn't care."

"I've always cared about you," I said desperately, stepping forward. "I never stopped."

"Then why didn't you write?" Quinn's eyes flashed to bright, violent amber. "Why didn't you say something, anything?"

"You changed your numbers," I fumbled. "You didn't give me your number! I thought you didn't want to talk. I thought we were done talking."

"You could've asked your Dads or someone from New Directions," Quinn stood. "All these years, I've wondered what happened. I thought about all the things I'd done wrong. I thought it was my fault you stopped talking to me. Every time I needed you, I thought long and hard about all the things I'd done.

"But you were scared," she snarled. "All this time, you've been scared! It was never my fault…

Quinn clenched her fists. Tears fell from her eyes in steady streams, her shoulders shaking. She lifted a hand to wipe at the drops, laughing. "God, I thought I was done crying over you… over this."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. My voice warbled, salty trails cutting into my eyeliner. Guilt and heartache colored my veins with every futile pump of my heart.

"You could've had both," she whispered. "Broadway… Us. It could've been us both."

She shook her head, clearing her eyes. The sparkle of a ring on her right ring finger caught my eye as she wiped at the stains on her cheeks.

My heart sank, my mouth became dry.

'No.'

"Did you know…" Quinn looked up, a melancholy smile on her lips, "…Once upon a time… I loved you?"

My gaze snapped up from the ring to meet hers.

God…

"I was young and stupid," she shook her head. "I thought you were the most courageous, ambitious, kind-hearted, gorgeous, and wonderful person I'd ever met.

"But… I was scared too," Quinn whispered. "I didn't want you to stop being my friend. I never wanted there to be a day you couldn't look at me as a friend anymore. I thought 'God, I'm so lucky just to have her smile at me.'

"I thought I'd have more time. That one day I'd be able to tell you," she chuckled bitterly. "But I guess it didn't matter after all, because we were both scared."

"…Who is it?" I asked softly. "How long?"

"…A woman from USC," Quinn replied. "We've been together for three years. We just got engaged."

I squared my jaw and held the tears back. I fought to keep them from my voice, trying to keep it even. "…Are you happy?"

The question seemed to hit Quinn square across the chest as she winced, blinking. She stood there, studying me, turning the words over in her mouth, before she spoke.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'm happy."

The final nail echoed as the hammer fastened it into place.

Any sort of hope… of childish need to hear the truth drained from me.

My heart shattered.

And I did along with it.

Still, I gathered the fragments up quickly, breathing in deeply as my eyes closed and I trembled.

It was over.

I'd gained nothing and lost everything.

I'd chosen Broadway.

…I'd chosen wrong.

I stepped forward, smelling the familiar scent of vanilla and mint hanging about her, mixed with that unique, incense-like scent of home… of Quinn.

I lifted my arms and placed them about her, burying my face in her shoulder and squeezing.

Strong arms embraced me, and I felt her sigh into my body.

I memorized every curve, how our bodies melded together so perfectly… like she'd been made for me… like we'd been made for each other.

I thought about everything I'd be missing. How I could've felt like this every single day of my life. How I'd felt this way for three years, only to have it taken from me by every stupid mistake I'd ever made.

This…

This would forever be my greatest regret.

She would forever be my greatest regret.

I loosened my hold ever so slightly, pressing my lips against her ear, closing my eyes and letting tears stream down my cheeks.

"Just so you know…" I trembled. "I loved you too."

I heard her gasp against me, felt her stiffen, then break in my arms.

We thought we had time. We thought it would stop for us.

…But now, time had run out.

I ached as I pressed a kiss to her cheek, shaking as I pressed my forehead into her shoulder one last time and stepping out of her embrace.

I gathered myself up, looked into her eyes as she stared brokenly at me, lost.

She'd made her decision. She'd chosen, just as I had eight years ago.

She chose something I wished I'd been able to choose.

…She chose love.

I stepped away, giving her one last sad smile.

"…Goodbye, Quinn."

I turned, walked out the door and out of her life.

"…I took a breath
And I got my yacht
And the years went by
And it never changed
And it never grew
And I never dreamed
And I woke one day
And I looked around
And I thought, 'My God...
I'll never have the Moon.'"

A/N: Alright, that's it... Hope you enjoyed it.

Good, bad? Thumbs up, down? Let me know. Please review.