Chapter 4: The Crying Game
Summary: There was a proposal.
A/N: Guys, I've harassed some of you and asked if I should change the title and most of you said YES! Sooooo it's now called 'Fake It Til We Make It!' Thank you for reading/following/reviewing
B/N: Short for BetaReader's note. She's Terrific and fast too.
The printer quietly hums as it spews out paper after paper containing Rachel's future. She isn't sure if anyone would ever think about denying her request for CD, short for couple's dorm, occupancy. The printer stops and Rachel eagerly collects the papers, quickly scanning the pages for glaring errors. Of course, there are none. "Quinn? Quinn, are you ready?" She quickly slips the proposal into a professional looking envelope. It's ready to be dropped into Madame Carmen's drop box outside her office. Emailing is so insincere.
"Yes I am. Why do we need to dress up for this dinner?" The simple black dress with cream details suits Quinn's mood for tonight. She feels in the dark – Rachel wouldn't tell her where they are going to. "I swear if this is another double date I'll stab you with a fork."
"Quinn you wouldn't." Rachel fights the urge to stomp her feet. She's 18, not 5, thank you very much.
"I wouldn't." Quinn readily admits. "But I'll be thinking of it."
"Thinking of violent things can lead to indigestion, Quinn." Rachel collects their coats and hands Quinn hers when they are out the door. She walks ahead Quinn to drop the letter at Madame Tibideaux's box. She turns to find Quinn looking at her intently. "What?"
"You clean up good; black looks great on you." Rachel tugs at the sleeve of her dress feeling self-conscious – Kurt suggested this style over the phone. Long sleeved but the skirt falls mid-thigh; it also hugs her figure close. She paired it with some hot pink pumps as per Kurt's instructions. He even did the shopping online. Bless his gay heart. "Which supports my theory that we are going to end up in a date. Are you planning to make me a chaperone?" Quinn continues.
"Thank you for the compliment, you look amazing too. I like that you are growing your hair again but please stop formulating theories. You never shut up." They succeed at hailing a taxi at the third try.
"Ha! Look at the kettle talking." But Quinn does shut up. Her eyes stray outside the car window. She's in New York. Never in her whole life has she ever imagined that she could be in any other place other than Lima. Contrary to popular belief, Rachel wasn't the only one who had a plan since they were toddlers – Lucy Quinn Fabray dreamt too. Only her dreams weren't as close to the sun as Rachel's. To be honest, little Lucy only wanted to be the next Judy Fabray. It seemed enticing and lucrative that time, but then Lucy became Quinn and she woke up from the dream. Now, Quinn doesn't dream anymore, she's just awake.
"We're here!" Rachel's voice holds a certain reverence. It was dark outside; Quinn couldn't make out where they were.
"Where's here?" Quinn is hearing some chatter but could not pinpoint where they were from.
"Welcome to 'Here'." The door that Rachel pushes open reveals a softly lit room. The doorman gives them the eye for not waiting for him to open the door. Rachel simply continues on. The majority of colors are deep red, black and gold. The yellow lights add a mysterious and classy finish to it.
"Wow." Quinn covers her mouth to keep her jaw from dropping. "What is this place?"
"This is owned by a former NYADA student, Laura Dell Hailey. This is a nook for theater junkies. Unbelievable, right?" Rachel is clapping her hand as she speaks to the maître d'. He weaves, quickly but elegantly, his way to show them their table.
"I thought the theater crowd was rowdy?" Quinn finally asks looking around at the snobbish place. She sees familiar faces – seems like every NYADA faculty is in here. Also, some students.
"We are Quinn. Refinely rowdy." A wide wolfish smile adorns Rachel's face. Quinn certainly sees through.
"Hmmm. I still cannot shake the suspicion I have. How did you find this place? I feel like something's gonna happen Rachel."
"Oh shush and order something." Rachel's already reciting her order to a waiter that Quinn haven't seen walk to them.
Quinn decides that Rachel is insane when she sees the price of the food. She must have missed something that the lunatic in front of her is saying since her name is now being repeatedly called.
"Quinn, I took the liberty of ordering for you since you seem to have zoned out." Rachel takes a sip of her sparkling water. Refreshing. "Don't worry, I ordered something that once had a mother for you." Her tone is accusing.
Quinn leans in her palms flat on the table. "Have you lost your mind Rachel? The cost of this dinner is going to burn a hole in my credit card."
"Don't worry about it. I got this." There it is that wolfish smile again.
"I can't let you do that, Rachel." She peruses the menu again. "The soup costs like a whole meal." The Fabrays are no stranger to luxury, but Quinn already left that life behind – it's one of the reasons why she is in NYADA. She doesn't want to think about money right now; too many bad memories. She must really look upset because Rachel is quick to pat her hand.
"Don't be upset Quinn. This is gonna burn a hole through somebody's card but not ours." The chuckle that follows makes Quinn nervous.
"What did you do?" She wants to move her chair so that she's beside Rachel but that will not be too refined. Screw refined. She moves closer just a little bit. Thankfully the carpet muffles any sound the chair might make.
"Look at you." Rachel giggles.
"Shut up. I just wanna know what you did. Did you steal your dads' cards?" The last part is whispered so low Rachel almost doesn't catch it.
"No. I didn't. Do you think I'm crazy?" Quinn nods. Rachel leans in closer. "I won in a wager with a certain Carter Van Woodly Thornton III. A singing wager and I won."
"Whoa! When did that happen and why wasn't I aware? Also, a singing contest against you? That's like you taking candy from a baby. That's cheating Rachel." The waiter chooses the moment to serve the soup and all conversations halt until the last entree is served. They both forego dessert and settle for more coffee instead. Apparently, they are too young for wine.
"I asked Brody for help and you were avoiding me days ago, remember? Also, thanks for the compliment, although delivered backhandedly. Two in one day? This day will go in my memoirs." The coffee is fine but Pete John's coffee is still better.
"Why didn't you bring him here instead?"
Rachel is silent for a while. "I might have an ulterior motive. I want to ask you a favor but I don't think you are gonna like it."
"Crap." It slips out of Quinn's mouth unchecked. "I'm sorry. What is it?" She covers Rachel's mouth with her hand. "Wait. Ok. Go."
Rachel doesn't answer but she slides out of her chair. Quinn watches with amazement as Rachel slips down on her knee.
The world is going to end Quinn thinks, because Rachel is not really going to do what she thinks Rachel is going to do. Maybe she can still stab Rachel with a fork to stop this. She watches as the girl in front of her hold out a velvet box. "Quinn Fabray. Will you do me a favor and wear this ring because one of us has to wear a ring? As you can see, this is my engagement ring but I can't bear to see it on my finger."
"Rachel Berry." Everything clicks to place. This is a show. All NYADA faculty is here. Quinn hisses lowly; she's a pawn. If it's really up to Rachel, she would have brought Brody. Her heart is beating so fast and she wants to cry but she does not know why. She's so angry right now that she's shaking. She cries. "Stand up really slowly. I'm gonna let you put the stupid ring on my finger and I'm gonna hug you because I don't want you to lose face but I'm not talking to you again. You want a show? I'm giving you a show."
Rachel gulps and does as Quinn says. She doesn't understand what Quinn is saying. What show? Tears fall to her cheeks but not because of the reason a casual onlooker might think. Quinn hates her now. She just feels a bit stupid because she did not ask Quinn in private first. Maybe Quinn doesn't want others to know about this; maybe they should be engaged in the dorm manager's presence only and whoever else concerned. She just killed Quinn's college experience. She clings to Quinn a bit tighter. Maybe Quinn will not want to be her roommate after this. Maybe Quinn does not like the idea of others knowing that she's engaged to Rachel because let's just be real here: Why would somebody like Quinn want to be engaged to her?
Rachel slowly disengages from the hug and wipes her face. She cannot look at Quinn. She feels hands cup her face and before she can even entertain any idea of what's happening, she is being pulled into a kiss. A very slow, intimate but chaste, kiss. A kiss that is shared after people get engaged for real. It is a perfect kiss. It's a made-for-movies kiss, complete with tears and incoherent mumblings. A performance kiss. Of course, Quinn is a flawless actress; it would just follow that she is a great performance-kisser as well. She once asked Finn what it was like to kiss Quinn – he said he saw fireworks. Now she knows it's true, and she cries more because it was indeed fireworks and sweet and everything that is meant to be in a kiss. It was so perfect that she wants to clap. She is clapping. No, she isn't, but others in the place are. Quinn seizes her hand and tips her chin. She looks up to meet wet hazel eyes. "I love you." She hears. 'Wake up, Rachel. The line is delivered. Now, deliver yours.'
"I love you so much, Quinn."
The taxi ride back is not unpleasant but not enjoyable either. Both occupy the part of the seat very near the doors. On opposing ends. Just like they were before New York. Just like they were meant to be. The winking diamond on Quinn's finger, the only thing jolly.
"Quinn." Starts Rachel when they are at their room.
Quinn goes behind a dressing screen. "Don't." She simply says. After she's safely dressed in a pair of sweats and a NYADA t-shirt, Quinn drags the screen in between hers and Rachel's bed. She hears a quiet sob and gentle thuds. Rachel's getting ready for bed too. Quinn doesn't care. She faces the wall and wills sleep to come.
She wakes up with a start. 3 AM. Rachel's probably tiptoeing back from her moisturizing routine. "Good mornight, Rachel. Your stupid routine is still annoying." It comes out of her mouth without bar or warning. She forgot she's angry.
Rachel gasps "Goo...good mornight, Quinn. I'm so sorry." There was no reply. Rachel drops to her bed and blows a forlorn sigh.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters. Just so you know.