As Rachel lies in bed with a tub of B&J and RENT in the DVD player, her mood fluctuates intensely from somewhat irritated to very irritated to extremely fucking pissed before regressing to relatively mild teenage angst - and then finally to complete and utter despair. She understands Quinn's point, she really does - it's just that, thanks to Noah, she's already caught up in that world, isn't she? Maybe not to the same extent, given that Noah is a small fish in a big pond and Quinn Fabray is a fucking shark.
Even so, she's been in that world; if Quinn hadn't saved her, she'd be on probation right now for possession. Was that not badass enough for Quinn Fabray? What does she need to do to get the blonde to want her? Fuck around? Do drugs? Drink until she's legless? Quit New Directions? 'Cause God knows that Glee Club doesn't bring out the inner rebel, except for that one occasion where they sang Push It and basically ended up frotting in front of the whole school. Getting Mr Schuester to go for that again seemed highly unlikely - he wasn't even impressed the first time. Maybe she could shoplift or something - that was badass, right? Graffiti, she knew, Quinn approved of. Or she had when she sketched obscene pictures of her all over the place, anyway. Rachel didn't know her mouth could gothat wide.
She decides to scrap promiscuity, because she really doesn't want to touch anyone but Quinn. Drugs is out, because her latest close call with them had shaken her to the core and doing anything further could be detrimental to her future career on Broadway. Drinking until she's so inebriated that she barely remembers her own name is something she's familiar with - but before she'd always had Noah to look out for her and make sure she didn't end up going home with some sleazeball like Quinn saved her from last week. This time she'd, hopefully, have Quinn but it wasn't something she could count on resolutely. Drinking is out. Quitting Glee, she decides, isn't really helpful: she wants to impress Quinn before Monday comes, and then, if she succeeds, it won't be necessary. Shoplifting, she is tempted to try. Except that it's not something she's certain she'd be good at - subtlety is not a strong point of Rachel Berry. Graffiti wasn't really an option, since her art skills really left a lot to be desired and she'd only end up spraying gold stars, being caught almost immediately.
Finally, when her gentle cries have subsided, she comes to the conclusion that she is going to get dressed, go to Discovery - and then wing it entirely. Somehow, she's going to get Quinn Fabray to give her the time of the day. She just hasn't quite figured out the "how" yet.
Finding something to wear wasn't easy, since she'd worn her nicest (sluttiest) dress last time she'd attempted to catch Quinn's attention. Finally, she settles on one of her too-short-for-school skirts (which is saying something, looking at the ones she does wear to school) and the red corset that she'd taken home after Glee performed Express Yourself. On top of this, she throws a light black cardigan to balance the colours. Replacing her Mary Janes with a pair of stilettos is the last step, and when she gives herself a once over in the mirror she can't repress her grin. Quinn would have to be one fucked up lesbian to resist this, she thinks.
It turns out that she's right, because she can feel hazel eyes following her the second she enters the club. She ignores them, instead strutting up to the bar with a roll of the hips for every step and now there's more than one set of eyes tracking her movements.
"Buy a pretty girl a drink?"
Rachel nods with a coy smile, somehow swallowing her revulsion. It's the same man she ran into last time, the one with the wandering hands, and when she risks a glance in Quinn's direction, she can see that she recognises him too. Good. She takes the vodka and coke that he's ordered for her and takes a tiny sip, still not entirely sure how much she trusts this place. "She's still with me," she hears the voice from behind her, and she has to work hard to plaster a frown on her face instead of the smile that wants to come.
"No, she's not," Rachel disgrees, still looking at her suitor and not at Quinn.
"Yes, she is," the cheerleader argues, fire flaring in her eyes. The man swallows and his gaze flickers between the brunette and the blonde. The girl he's after is cute, sure, but he isn't stupid enough to get on Fabray's bad side. He still remembers the right hook from the last time he did, and he presses his tongue to his teeth as if to check they're still there.
"Okay, you guys clearly have something to talk about, I'll just...yeah..." he backs off faster than Rachel can say Liza Minelli and she turns to Quinn in anger, that she's surprised to find is barely forced.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Me? I'm not the one to looking to get fucking raped by some random junkie at a club I don't even belong in."
"Okay, first off, you can't "look" to get raped! It's called "non-consensual" for a reason."
"You know what I meant, Berry."
"And secondly, where the hell do you get off doing this?"
"I'm looking out for you."
"No! This is fucking bullshit, Quinn. What, you can pretend to be my girlfriend, but you can't be my actual friend?" Rachel crosses her arms and looks at the blonde defiantly. This double standard is going to be explained, and it's going to be explained now.
Quinn growls under her breath, and in another situation the guttural sound would have soaked Rachel's panties. Right now, however, she's just pissed off at the "come here, go away" trip she's being put through. Well, at the moment, it's mostly "go away". "Just leave," the cheerleader snaps.
"No."
"What?" Quinn asks, taken aback. She can't remember the last time some ever dared to contradict her in the confines of the club - she's not certain it's ever happened. In the darkness here, she's top dog. That has never been called into question before.
"I said, "no". I'm not one of your little lackeys, Quinn. When you say "jump", I won't say "how high?" I'll say, "who the fuck do you think you are?" So back off. I have as much right to be here as you." With that, she turns her attention back to the bar, and waves for the barkeeper's attention so she can get some more alcohol in her, and fast. Without it, she knows she's going to give into her whims and do whatever Quinn asks her. Rachel Berry refuses to be whipped - especially for a pseudo-girlfriend.
Quinn grabs her shoulder and she's whirled back around before she can even give the barman her order. "If I tell you I'll call you tomorrow, will you leave?"
There's a pause while Rachel considers the offer. "I don't know. Will you call me?"
"Yes."
Finally the star nods. "Okay. But if you don't, I'm gonna haunt you in your sleep!"
As she's leaving, she's almost sure she can hear the other girl whisper, "You already do."