Hey everyone! :D Thank you to all of those who reviewed from the first chapter. It still means so much to me getting great feedback. I swear, my heart literally beats a 30598235 times faster everytime I see there's a review for one of my stories. O: Here's chapter 2 for you all. This story will definitely have a much slower, nicer pace than SC&SS because, well, I'm trying my best to improve as a writer so yeah. Lots of character development involved and backstory, so please don't get bored and I promise the future chapters will be the kind of drama you've all been waiting for, hahaha. ;D I hope all of you enjoy! I do not own Glee.

Cardboard Cut Outs, Chapter 2
"Memories needed to remain memories because that's all they would ever be .."

"Honey, you okay?"

Breaking the steady silence she was subdued in, the abrupt voice led her back to her feet. "Oh, sorry mom. I was just looking through some old stuff."

Her mother nodded empathetically. "No worries. I'll just leave you alone now." As she made her way out of the cluttered room, she looked back for a brief moment. "Oh, and sweetie, we're still on for dinner reservations right?"

She looked back at her mom, grinning sincerely. "Of course. I'm just um, moving my things around."

"There's no rush. We can go whenever you're ready."

"I'll be done in a bit so we can go soon."

Just as Mrs. Cohen-Chang headed toward the hallway she sneaked in her last words. "Glad to have you back home T. If you ever need anything, feel free to ask."

The consistent pain she'd adapted inside went on a high for a couple of seconds but she just smiled back. "Thanks for letting me move back in mom. I really appreciate it. See you in a bit."

After the brief interruption of her beloved mother, she sulked in her silent grief. She's not sure how she ended up in her mess of a situation. When she was younger, she swore to herself she wouldn't be one of those women you see on television that make you fear growing up. Where unsuccessful dreams, undecided engagements and living arrangements summed up your life. Because if she wasn't mistaken, that's exactly what her life had grown to consist of.

She continued going through old memories from unpacking all her belongings into the spacious guest room. Lately, her attention-span on things had been on a short thread. There were just way too many things happening around her that the problems running inside of her had been left kept unnoticed.

As she scavenged through her the identical boxes, she found one that seemed untouched for years. The brown cardboard box that had easily caught her attention was really the only one that had a sensible label on it that was also readable.

Memories. Oh, how expansive her creativity was during high school. It was weird seeing how her letters curved in noticeably on the very ends in comparison to the way her hand-writing is now. Her hand-writing now hadn't transformed much from then on, though. Now it consisted of plain, straight lines. She was determined that if she cared so much how her lettering actually looked like, it could look like how it used to.

One of the first things she took out of the sentimental box were her senior portraits. That year, she'd highlighted streaks of her hair a cotton-candy pink. She fondled with her locks after seeing this, jet-black hair in hand without any funky colors encased in them. She remembered how she and Mercedes Jones would go to the local store, deciding on which of the colors she'd use on her hair for that month. Thinking about her old friend, she probably should check up on how she's doing. If she was in Lima, that is.

The next thing she'd found was a group picture of Glee club that had surprisingly not been defaced.

At the time, they were juniors. She genuinely giggled at the sight of Kurt Hummel's wardrobe which consisted of a cashmere sweater, a bright purple Argyle tie and a black pleated skirt. Of course. Finn was clutching onto Rachel's tiny waist surely. The rest of the Glee clubbers' expressions left a nostalgic smile on Tina's face, memories flooding back at her.

Then as her eyes wandered observantly around the picture, she spotted the only writing that had been laid on the glossy photo. Beside it were their laced fingers in one another, his lips gently touching her cheek, the corners of her mouths extending effortlessly across her face, as her eyes lit with contentment. That portion had a big, obnoxious red arrow and a circle around it that was the same inky red color as the writing.

"Hey babe. Do you know these people? They're so cute together, it's kind of hard to look at (not really). Especially the girl. Would you be mad if I said she was the prettiest, most beautiful girl I've ever seen? HEY, stop making that face you're making right now. You know, the one you make when I say you're beautiful. Because even though you say you hate it and that you don't believe it, I think you're just lying or being insanely humble. Can't you just be more of a show-off? So I don't look like such an ass when I tell random strangers I have the prettiest girlfriend in the world?"

She felt her heart drop down to her feet.

"Whoa, okay. I didn't know how long this note was going to be. It's practically taking up half of the picture and is almost covering our amazing faces. I just wanted to say that I'm happy to have you. Well, not really. I'm so extremely glad and grateful to have you. And I hope when we read this together in 50 years, you don't dump me because you think I'm weird. That wouldn't be good. But I love you if you didn't know that. And if you didn't know that, shame on you. 5/21/11. 0715101039, Mike."

Taking a deep breath in, her eyes veered away from the box of memories to anything but.

July 15, 2010 at 10:39 AM was the date she thought she'd hold onto with her dear life. Now, they just looked like a bunch of random digits put into one as if a lazy math teacher wrote an equation and forgot the math operations. Even if she had remembered that date right to the core, she knew that the importance of those numbers would be the same equivalence to a pair of jumbled, numerical figures. Why couldn't love be as simple as it was then? More importantly, why did she have to make things seem more complicated than necessary when she was so young?

Flicking the photo out of her hands in longing, she fell to her rear and sat on the dusty, mahogany flooring. The last thing she needed were a bunch of useless tears over a love she'd somehow drifted away from almost eight years ago.

Thinking the pain would stop after eyeing the picture for nearly 10 minutes, she was wrong. The crumpled photo that lay right beneath it showed Tina and her deceased father during her high school graduation, his limp arms gently hugging hers. Even if she's mended through his death within the past year, she'd do anything to have him back. She'd do anything to have at least one sensible man in her life.

That was the moment the concealed tears released, dancing over her face covered in Target foundation and a rosy blush.

Her arms fell to the ground, trying to maintain a quiet whimper so she would be left unnoticed to her mother.

It was already enough that she brought her back into the house. There wasn't any legitimate reason for her to do that and console her so-called strong-willed daughter at the same time. That's why she planned to move in her with her in the first place; she needed to find herself again, and in cases like this which were most cases, she had to shut up and a maintain a resilient attitude.

Collecting herself almost immediately, she stood on her leather high-heeled boots, dabbing the tears from her cheeks. She breathed in carefully as she moved her box of memories into the corner of the room. Anything to remind her of how much life had changed needed to be held aside. Memories needed to remain memories because that's all they would ever be, no matter how much she wanted them to gain some scarce importance.

When she walked into the quiet room, she found her mother productively hanging her clothes into the roomy closet she had. There was slight smile she had on her face. That's when she realized how envious she truly was of her mom. She wished she could have content moments alone like that. "Hey, I'm ready."

Caught off guard she stared back at her. "Oh okay. Let me just get my purse."

Her mother jogged to the suede couch, showing off her outfit for the day: dark-washed denim jeans with a pretty, lime green sweater and had a pair of one-inch textured heels, showing the true potential of her mile long legs. She was always kind of secretly jealous of her mother. Even after the ripened age of 43, she looked amazing.

"Are we eating at Ramona's today?"

"Actually, I wanted to try this new restaurant five streets up from Ramona's. That okay with you?"

She didn't know why but she couldn't completely settle on the idea of eating anywhere but Ramona's. It'd been her and her parents' spot for everything. But she didn't make this apparent to her mother. She was only trying to help. "Yeah, sure."

Her hesitation could be easily noticed though. "I mean we can go to Ramona's if you want. I'd be okay with that too -"

"No mom, it's fine," interrupting. There wasn't any need to argue about something as small as restaurant choice.

"Okay."

The variation of orange, yellow and brown autumn leaves flew carelessly in the wind as she loomed her head through the moving vehicle. Not in a million years did she ever think she'd miss this place.

Lima. Sweet, sweet Lima.

The place no one really cared about the shenanigans in your life, either because you weren't important enough or they just genuinely didn't give a crap. For once, that's exactly what she needed.

As she stepped out of the vehicle, the first thing that she couldn't help but notice was this gaudy, conspicuous sign that read 'The Broken-Hearted Remedy.' Little pink hearts surrounded the cherry-colored lettering. And to her dismay, a large excited smile was plastered on her mother's face. "Here it is!"

She couldn't help but giggle at how painfully obvious her mother's motives were. "Really mom? 'The Broken-Hearted Remedy?'"

"Hey, no need to judge. Let's just see if this place is as remedious as people say it is."

"Remedious isn't a word."

She rolled her eyes in resentment. "Whatever, my sweet, sweet daughter. Now give me your arm so we can go in together before I cut it off." She voluntarily offered her arm, linking with one another. Though she was almost certain the only kind of remedy this place supplied were loads of calories and excessive amounts of creamy dip on the side, it was nice being where she belonged. Tina was at home.

"Hi, reservations for Lauren Cohen-Chang?" her mother beamed brightly to the waiter. He eyed the long list, finally crossing off what was probably her name.

"Ah, okay. You two may come this way." Politely swaying his arm, he directed the two of them to one of the many opened sections.

The place was pretty. Then again, it kind of had to be. It is a restaurant devoted to making the painful feel a little more painless, so at the very least it had to be somewhat appealing. The walls were a kind of Earthy, bronze color and were well-lit with dangling chandeliers for each room. The chairs they comfortably rested on had a plum-colored velvet exterior. Just the place itself screamed comfort. There was no way in hell you couldn't feel relaxed and serene in a room like that.

"So what were you thinking of ordering T?" insightfully scanning the decorative menu.

"Am I allowed to get .. everything?" she jokingly retorted.

Lauren chuckled. "Maybe not everything, but get whatever you'd like. My treat. "

Tina grinned admiringly. "I won't object."

Not too shortly after, a waiter dressed in a clean, white button up and a maroon apron around his waist came dashing in next to them. "Hello ladies, how are you two doing today? Are you ready to order or would you two like some more time?"

They looked at each other waiting for someone to answer. "Oh, um, I think we're ready. Do you think you can.. -"

Both her mom and the waiter stared at the now-speechless Tina curiously.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

"Tina, are you okay?"

Suddenly the image of her memory box came to mind as she saw a tall figure with gelled, black hair occupying one of the tables alone. He had on a navy blue V-neck and dark jeans covering his long legs. The muscles he possessed as a teenager were nicely maintained. He stared idly at the table, hands grasping each other. It seemed like he was waiting for another person. A girl, maybe.

Realizing how distracted she'd been by whom she'd seen, she whipped her head refocusing on what she needed to order. Food. Right. "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry! I'm fine, I just .. saw .. Oh, okay, yeah, I'll buy, I mean get, I'll get a salad for now."

"Are you sure honey?"

"Yeah, I haven't been eating much vegetables lately so yeah, I'm set on the salad for now."

The waiter chuckled lightly at her response. "Not about the salad. About you."

Wait, why are we talking about salad again? She absently deliberated. Her attention span had now minimized to the size of her mother's favorite I'm-a-20-year-old-college-girl dress. It was him. Not just "oh yeah, him." Him.

"Sorry – David, was it? Do you think we can get another moment or so?"

The waiter nodded patiently, looking for another table to serve.

"Tina are you alright? Seriously honey, you look ten times paler."

"Huh? I do?" She consistently drifted from her ambiguous thoughts to reality. Though for once, there wasn't much of a difference between the two.

Finally, her mother stared at the same direction she'd been neglectfully staring at for the past five minutes, squinting her eyes paying close attention to the object of her daughter's affection. Her head abruptly snapped back to stare at Tina. She had the same face she had. "Honey, is that .. ? When was the last time you guys .. ?"

She gulped anxiously. "I don't .. I think, yeah, um .."

They both sounded equally inarticulate. "Tina I think that is! You should go say hi! When was the last time you two had actually spoken? High school graduation, right? I remember how sweet he was," suddenly excited.

Then in the midst of their commotion, he cocked his head the side, exposing his masculine face to them. Both their eyes went wide.

She doesn't know why her first instinct was to cover her blushing face with the menu that hadn't even covered her face fully. She forgot how "well" she handled situations like this.

Realizing what her foolish daughter had been trying to do, she snatched the menu away from her grasp as Tina helplessly ducked. "Tina Cohen-Chang, that was – is your best friend. Don't pretend like you don't see him. Say hi."

She groaned in protest, slightly moving her head to see what he'd been doing at this point. But now the table that he'd occupied was now empty. Where did he go?

A few minutes pass and still, the two of them had the same perplexed expressions they had on ten minutes ago. Their eyes were glued onto the table he once sat in. They even asked David to come back in another fifteen minutes so they'd 'have more time to think about what they wanted to eat' when it'd been hideously obvious what their actual intentions were.

She sighed in impatience. "Hey Tina, I'm gonna go to the bathroom. And I'm telling you, when you see him you better not hide!"

Tina nodded in stubborn agreement. "Okay, okay."

Honestly she wasn't quite sure why she tried to hide in the first place. It pained her to admit but her mom was right. Although the last time they really spoke was graduation excluding the one encounter they had two years after, she was pretty sure they left off on moderately good terms.

Well, should have left off on good terms. All she knew was that if they did ever get a chance to talk that afternoon, the conversation would maintain its preordained awkward silences and ceaseless questions.

As she slowly inhaled a gulp of air, her shoulders relaxed from the tense state they'd been in. But the moment she calmed was the moment she saw Mike and .. Matt Rutherford?

She saw as the pair sat on the vacant seats of their table, still leaving Tina unnoticed. She didn't know why, but she had this strange surge of bravery and before she knew it, she stood tall with her elevated boots and sleek hair in a ponytail, confidently walking to where they are.

Just inches away from them to fully acknowledge her, she continued to strut, but this time her tall boots had caused her to slip horrendously.

"Shit!" she whimpered aloud, catching not only Mike and Matt's attention, but the whole restaurant's.

"Ma'am are you okay?" a waiter inquired, hovering right over her rigid body. Chuckles and whispers suddenly filled the room.

Tremulously, she replied, "What .. happened?"

"T .. Tina? Cohen? .. Chang?" A familiar voice curiously pronounced each syllable of her name. As her sight slowly revived, she saw his well-developed frame above her. He kindly offered his hand to her, and when she mustered the courage to actually accept, her body had somehow lost all its strength at once. And that only supported her knowledge that this place was in fact, no remedy for the broken-heart whatsoever.