"What's your favorite thing in the whole wide world?"
Quinn the proud Cheerio struts down the hallway, arrogant smirk curled on her lips, hazel eyes gleaming with pride. She stares down every person in the hallway as she passes by, making sure they all know their place. Her classmates may be stuck in Lima and be Lima losers but she isn't. She's Quinn fuckin' Fabray and God forbid if she's going to be stuck in this hick town. As she turns a corner her eyes momentarily meet Rachel's, the brunette's eyes seeming to see through her soul. Quinn momentarily pauses, eyes locked on the brunette, temporarily captivated by the melancholia leaking through the deep chocolate brown. It's pity and Quinn Fabray does not take that crap. She doesn't even think as she grabs the slushie from the jock lounging in the hallway and throws it at the girl who knows everything about her.
"I dunno. I guess it would be singing."
Quinn the pregnant teenager resignedly sits in the choir room after glee, feet swinging from the stool she sits on, eyes stuck to the floor. She's so tired. Constantly moving from house to house, living with people in houses that aren't her own. She's homeless with a homr. Because her heart isn't invested in her place of lodging. When she unpacks in each place, Mercedes' house, Puck's house, and Finn's house she feels no emotional connection, no fond memory. Quinn rests her palms lightly on her stomach and tries to ignore the burning gaze Rachel sends her as she walks out the door that has a question that only she knows. She ducks her head and pretends that she doesn't notice.
"Mine would be the piano."
Quinn the childless girl curls up in her bed on a warm summer day, stuffed frog cuddled between her arms and chest. She resignedly stares at the blank wall in front of her, figuratively burning through the plaster. So many questions add kindling to her fire. Why did she give up Be-her? Why did she move back with her mom? Why did she sleep with Puck? Hell, why did she deviate from her master plan? For the first time in awhile a sardonic smile curls on the girl's lips. She realizes she's hopeless. Quinn Fabray is no longer going to get out of Lima. She's a loser, a once pregnant teenager who lost her reputation and is hanging out with the damn Glee Club. Well no . . . she won't let that happen. No. She's getting out of Lima. She's going to become Prom Queen. She's going to get a scholarship from the Cheerios. And she's definitely going to get back on top. Her jaw sets in determination and she sits up in her bed. Her eyes harden and she pushes the temporary fantasy that lingers in her mind. The what if . . . What if she just gave it all up for Rachel?
"Oh . . . I thought that it would have been me."
Quinn the ex Cheerio childless and once pregnant girl clutches the sink, her arms shaking as she stares at the pure white porcelain. How many times can her plans fail? Sam is gone. Cheerios are gone. Why does everything have to be ruined for her? Popularity . . . success . . . prom que- . . . No. She can give up everything but that. She grits her teeth and stares fiercely at the mirror, staring for one last time at the WMHS emblazoned on her chest. She's got one thing left. Prom Queen. And like hell if she's going to loose that one thing. It's all she has left. Out of the corner of her eye she catches Rachel Berry skipping down the hallway, humming some tune under her breath. And she smiles because even though Quinn is clinging onto one pathetic thing Rachel Berry has so much more.
"It could be if-"
"I was brave enough," she whispers to the empty auditorium, her fingers ghosting over the piano keys, all alone.
Little six year old Rachel Berry grins toothily at six year old Quinn Fabray as the other girl ducks her head, quietly letting her words die into nothingness.
"Let's be famous Quinnie. Let's go to New York and be great! Together!" The blonde shyly blushes as the other girl pulls her into an eager hug.
"Together?"
"Always."