And as promised, here's Quinn's chapter :) thank you to hannah-jennifer, ChairDerenaNennyFan95 and Bluesdj for reviewing :) and to everybody else who favorite story/alerted :) you're the best readers EVER! :)

I'd say I don't own Glee but I think everybody already knows that I don't :)


Quinn POV

Sometimes I wonder what my parents would do if they could see me now. Dad would probably have a shame-induced heart attack. Mom would probably look the other way and pretend that it wasn't happening. I mean, back home I'd been the perfect Christian daughter; I'd preyed on a daily basis, managed to stay chaste throughout several serious relationships, and I'd even been the president of the Celibacy Club. But despite my best attempts to maintain my perfect image, I'd ended up here. Las Vegas. Working as a show girl in a casino, no less.

I didn't doubt for one second that if my parents could see me now, they would disown me in a heartbeat.

Not that I cared. Once upon a time, maybe I would have. But now I was having way too much fun to give a damn what they – or anybody else, for that matter – thought about me.

That's why I left home. It was just too much pressure. My parents had all these hopes and dreams for me and I just couldn't deal with their constant expectations anymore. I'd spent my entire childhood trying to please them and make them happy and it was never enough. I kept trying, though, and when my efforts still went unacknowledged, I decided that maybe it was time to make myself happy. Even if it did mean turning my back on all my beliefs. Well, apart from no sex before marriage. I still believed in that.

I don't even know how I ended up in Las Vegas if I'm being completely honest. I mean, it had never particularly appealed to me when I'd lived back home, what with it being so immoral and everything. But talking about a city and actually living in it are two entirely different things, I know that now.

Vegas is just – well, I don't even know how to describe how amazing it is. I'd arrived during the day and just wandered around the city, completely overwhelmed and not entirely convinced that it was the place for me. But then I saw The Strip. It was just over four miles of nonstop hotels, casinos, and resort properties, and when I saw The Strip lit up at night, it took my breath away. It was just that bright and that beautiful. That was when I knew that Vegas would be my new home.

What surprised me was how easily I'd built a life for myself. I'd gotten a job, made friends with a couple of the other showgirls, and taken control of my own life. Admittedly, it wasn't how I had envisioned my future but for now it was okay.

"Okay?" Santana demanded as we pulled on our outfits for the night in the dressing room backstage. "We have it better than 'okay', Quinn. We're living the freakin' dream here."

I considered my costume before replying; it was skin-tight, of course, and primarily made out of silver sequins and gold feathers. Yeah, my dad would definitely have a heart attack if he could see me now, I thought before smiling and stepping into it.

"I guess," I finally said, gesturing at my other showgirl friend to zip me up. "I just don't think that we should assume that this is what we'll be doing forever. We're going to get old one day, you know."

Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany who had just finished zipping me up. "Tell her, Brittany," she said.

"You can't mention the 'O' word in front of Santana," Brittany told me solemnly. "She doesn't believe in it."

I shook my head and turned back to the mirror to put on my stage makeup, leaving Santana and Brittany to glare at any of the other showgirls who dared to stray too close to them. Sure, I may have been friends with them but they weren't very accepting of anyone outside of our immediate group of friends. Apart from the bartender guy, of course.

His name was Puck – yeah, like the ice hockey thing – and he'd started working in Midnight around the same time as me. We'd never actually had a conversation but I'd once seen him throwing a drunken customer in a dumpster and I had it on good authority from Santana and Brittany that he was good in bed. Whether or not they'd found that out at the same time, I didn't know. Or particularly want to know. Either way, the bartender guy wasn't somebody that I would go out of my way to spend time with. I might not look like a good Christian girl anymore, but I'm still her on the inside. And good Christian girls don't get involved with Mohawk-sporting bartenders.

Though if I did want my parents to die of shame, hooking up with a Mohawk-sporting bartender would be one of the more amusing ways to ensure that it happened.


Did you spot the "Mattress" reference? I just couldn't help myself :)

Reviews mean that you want the next chapter :)

Which, by the way, will be told from Rachel's POV :) and for any Finchel fans reading, the two will finally meet in the next chapter :)