This will get confusing for you, I guess. But I will explain everything in the chapters following this. Don't worry. However, you can now begin to read, ponder and enjoy.

He greeted his colleagues and settled down in his cubicle, booting up the computer and going through the files he had piled up on his desk. He touched his gelled hair for a moment making sure it was still neat before heading to the photocopy machine to make some copies of the files. While he waited, his mind drifted to the man he met more than one but never knew the name of. Blaine wondered if he was gay because he really did look like a gay guy.

His gaydar would ping like crazy whenever he saw the man. And Blaine couldn't help but like him. He scoffed and shook his head to himself. How come the whole family could come out as homosexuals he would never know. He was still thankful for his mom for being so understanding and accepted them as her self-dubbed 'gay clan'. The now-silent copy machine shook him from his thoughts. He gathered his copies and files and went back to his cubicle, starting on classifying as soon as he sat down. His job wasn't that bad, it was just awfully boring. He was looking forward to the day he became one of the company's superiors and make some meaningful contribution.

Halfway through classifying the files, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he quickly picked it up before any of his colleagues could hear. "Hello?"

"Is this Blaine Anderson?" He frowned. That voice sounded familiar. Then it dawned on him. The mystery man. He widened his eyes and cautiously looked around before sneaking into the currently unoccupied break room.

"Yes," he answered shakily. He heard a rustling sound on the other end before the voice crackled through the speaker again.

"Hi, I'm Kurt. You gave me your card the other day. You said your bakery does deliveries?" Kurt asked, sounding hopeful.

Blaine nodded and waited for a long moment before he realized that Kurt couldn't see him. "Oh, yes, yes, I remember you!" he quickly said. "What can I do for you, Kurt?" he asked calmly, even though he was anything but calm.

He listened to Kurt clearing his throat and thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard before quickly reprimanding himself for such perverted thoughts. "I was…I'm wondering if you would like to…go out for a drink sometime?" Blaine's heart stopped for a second before it went back to beating. "I mean, just a drink. Nothing more."

His lips slowly curved into a tentative smile. "Yeah of course."

Each of them swore they could hear each other grinning through the phone.

There is always a point in life where you just have to stop for a moment – doesn't matter how long it is – to finally solve the problem you have been facing for your whole life.

That's what her father told her. She was very young and didn't understood the meaning behind his words at the time. Now though, as she sat in her room and looked at the family portrait taken a year before his passing, she recalled his words and started to understand.

The things Puck said had her mind rolling every now and then. They still had lunch, occasionally dinner together – as friends. They had fun. Sometimes, they talked about Rachel; sometimes they talked about life. Her fingers traced her father's face. She'd often wondered if there will ever be away for her to cure her legs, to not let her imperfections get to her or get in her way again. She stopped trying two years after her failed surgery. However, when Puck asked her about whether she would have another surgery if it's possible, her selfish side kept yelling 'Yes!' but her rational self knew that it wasn't even close to conceivable.

But God, how she wanted it. She wanted to walk properly. She wanted to be able to run for more than two miles. She wanted to jump more than ten times. She wanted to stop feeling so tired all the time. She wanted to be able to stroll next to Rachel without feeling exhaustion until it was normal to get exhausted by walking.

She put the picture frame back on her desk before standing up and headed outside to join her family who were watching reruns of Desperate Housewives on television. She smiled when she heard them laugh. That's what you got for a house full of women and gays.

They watched Desperate Housewives.

She cleared her throat to make her presence known and then flopped down on the couch roughly next to her brother. He glared at her but she could still see a reluctant smile tugging on his lips. She grinned back at him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

"How's my little brother doing?" she asked cheekily before laying a sloppy kiss on his cheek, making him wiped it away in disgust and she laughed. Santana snickered and her mother only smiled adoringly at her children.

He shrugged and snuggled into Quinn's embrace. Maybe he'd been behaving a little repulsively, but it was all just an act. He always loved it when Quinn would just take him like he's still that baby boy she always played with.

"I'm fine, real fine."

Quinn could sense he wanted to say more but he kept his mouth shut. She sneaked a glance at Santana to see the Latina shaking her head at him. Quinn rolled her eyes but was still grateful that they were thoughtful enough to not ask how she was doing.

She wasn't really doing any good as of now.

She squeezed him, her gaze traveling to the television sitting in front of them. "Any special guy?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him when she felt and saw him tense, as did Santana and Mrs Lopez. Her lips curled into a smirk and she turned him so she could look him in the eye.

"There is a special guy, isn't there?"

He looked at her guiltily and then looked away. Finally, he buried his head into the cushion when he saw everyone in the room looking at him.

"Stop staring at me," he whined, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Santana sniggered and put a finger to her lips before tiptoeing to his side and started to tickle his sides. He jumped so quickly and couldn't escape as Santana kept on tickling him.

"Tell us or I won't stop!" she persisted, her fingers moving agilely over his body and he just giggled and giggled and giggled. Quinn smiled at the adorable sound her brother was making. "Blaine, tell us," Santana yelled with a laugh and she kept on without any intention of stopping.

He was trying his best to keep her hands away whilst catching his breath but it was to no avail. Santana was nothing but stubborn and totally energetic when she wanted to. Quinn took pity of him and pawed Santana off . "Hey, let him breathe, geez." Santana finally stopped but her fingers were ready to go back their job. They watched him panting, waiting for his breathing to go back to normal before breathing a sigh of relief. "Now, lil' bro, are you going to tell us?"

Blaine grunted when he saw his mother's expectant face as well. "God, you guys just won't stop bugging me, will you?"

Santana pretended to take a moment and think, but she shook her head with a smirk anyway. "No."

He rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. Finally, he stood up, holding up his hands in defense in case Santana or Quinn decided to attack him again.

"It's nothing," he stated matter-of-factly. "We had a drink together last night. That's why I came home late. I like him. He's a nice guy. But nothing happened," he emphasized when he saw his blonde sister ready to say something. Quinn closed her mouth and mimed a zipping motion. "That's all I have to say! I mean, we don't really know each other."

"But you want to," Santana interjected slyly and he looked at her aggravated. "Oh, come on! It's not really that weird that we have all taken interest in you and your maybe-newfound relationship. I mean, how long has it been since you've dated somebody? The last time you went out on a date was like…one year and five months ago!"

"Wow, thank you for keeping track, Santana. I will definitely ask you to let me know how long it has been since I've dated someone in the future," he replied sarcastically. She rolled her eyes and flicked a finger at him. He repeated her motion and put down his hands, finally feeling safe. "I just want you to know that I will definitely tell you when I am in a relationship with someone. Like a steady one. So please next time, stop bugging me," he added exasperatedly.

"Just be careful, lil' bro. We don't want you to get hurt," Quinn reminded him and everyone in the room gave her incredulous looks and she rolled her eyes. "I don't want to talk about me," she enunciated each word carefully. She shot a deadly glare to Santana and the Latina just stared at her. "Lay off me!" she demanded when everyone won't stop staring at her.

Blaine scoffed. "Oh, like you wouldn't lay off me just now?"

"Okay, so you and Santana have been telling me all sorts of things about…her and I can't even tease you for fifteen minutes?" she snapped, trying ignore her weakness of not being able to say Rachel's name. Quinn stood up and raised her brows at them, daring them to say something. Santana and Blaine finally broke their gazes off her and looked down at their feet guiltily.

"Quinn?" She turned to her mother. "Can I say something? I haven't spoken a word all this time so I think I reserve a right to speak my opinion now. After all, I am your mother."

Quinn closed her eyes in frustration and finally she exhaled tiredly before opening her eyes. Maribel was immediately concerned when she saw the obvious fatigue in her daughter's eyes. She had been concerned before, but she was even more so now.

"Mom, I don't want to be rude and I love you, really. But I just really would like it if you guys could just lay off my back for awhile. I am really, really tired from all this stuff, especially when two of your children won't stop bugging me about it," she said pointedly.

Maribel looked at her daughter closely before nodding in assent. "I understand, Quinnie. But maybe you should take a rest, honey. You look tired."

"I am tired, Mom," Quinn confirmed and she looked around before sighing. "I think I'm gonna go out to walk off this stress. I'll see you at dinner." She grabbed her jacket from the peg at the door, pulling it on as she walked out.

She walked out into the sidewalk and halted in her steps when she saw Puck standing outside smoking. He noticed her presence and stubbed his cigarette with the toe his sneakers. She looked at him slack-jawed before thrusting her hands into her jacket pockets.

"It's weekend," she informed him. He nodded knowingly. "And you're still working for her during the weekend?"

He chuckled and approached her, falling in step with her as they walked to nowhere in particular. "I think even if I complained, she would've ignored me."

She shrugged and looked down at her moving feet. She concentrated on moving one foot in front of the other. She hated Puck a little right now. Why did he have to stand there and make her talk about Rachel? Her intention of coming out here was to clear her fucking mind of Rachel Berry. She sighed and looked up, squinting her eyes at the neon lights of the shops in the night.

"You could have ignored her."

"And let her go all crazy on me? No, thank you. You have no idea how far her rage can go. Besides, if I don't do this job for her, she's gonna scout all day herself and by then, she won't be able to accomplish anything and…" he stopped midway, realizing what he was going to say and Quinn chuckled dryly. "She just cares about your safety too much, obsessing over the fact that Finn Hudson or Sam Evans are going to find some way to harm you."

She stopped in her tracks and swung around to face him. "Do me a favor," she said. He nodded. "If you wanna keep on following me like this, don't talk about her. I really…I have had enough of it upstairs with my family. I actually came down here to clear my head. I just didn't expect to see you on a freakin weekend."

He threw his head back and laughed. He shrugged and gestured for her to keep on walking. They walked for a couple of miles and ended up near the alley where Mike's pub was situated. She stopped at the alley and then made her way inside, reaching for the rusty door. He smirked behind her and helped her open it, the two stepped into the wonderland of Mike Chang's creation. She smiled thankfully at him and they sat at the bar where Mike was serving – again.

The Asian man's brows rose and grinned when he saw the blonde who had come in. "Why hello there, Quinn," he greeted. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

Quinn laughed and braced her elbows on the bar surface. "I just…want a drink and forget about life."

Mike watched her in amusement and nodded. "Alright, what do you want? Vodka? Whiskey? Beer? No diet coke." She smiled and he grinned. Mission accomplished.

The blonde looked around and her eyes lit up when she saw the dance floor. She could shake it up tonight and forget about everything by dancing. But…she looked down at her legs and sighed, and then she turned back around. Fucking legs, she silently cursed. She smiled at Mike. "Whatever I had that day is fine," she said.

He smirked and gave her a mock salute before pouring vodka into a glass. He glanced at Puck quizzically and the mohawked guy shrugged and signaled that he wanted a drink as well. Mike rolled his eyes and slid a can of beer over to him. Puck nodded thankfully and popped the can open. He lifted it to his lips and drank a quarter of it. Quinn watched him with pure horror displayed on her face and he raised his brow at her, silently asking her what the big deal was.

She shook her head and her face contorted in disgust. Mike laughed and put the glass of vodka in front of her. She scrunched her nose at it. "Wait, I was drinking vodka?"

Mike barked out a laugh before nodding. God, don't shake off your head, man. "Yeah you were. Like drinking it non-stop. Rachel ordered it for you actually."

Quinn stiffened at Rachel's name and her grip around the glass tightened. She distinctly heard Puck cleared his throat from next to her and could see him shaking his head at Mike from the corner of her eyes. She huffed a breath before downing the entire glass of vodka and signaled to Mike for a refill. He looked at her cautiously before pouring her another glass. He widened his eyes in innocence when he saw Puck glaring at him like he's ready to kill him.

"What am I suppose to do?" he mouthed.

"Stop pouring her vodka! Switch the damn drink!" Puck mouthed back, watching as Quinn drank the whole glass down again. This time, she ended up choking on it and coughing.

They grimaced and Puck warily brushed his palm up and down Quinn's back, trying to relax her…esophagus or whatever. Shit, he didn't know where the fucking vodka was choked at. He knew he should have studied science! He looked up quickly when he heard the Asian man hopping over the counter and gave Puck a 'What the fuck' look. Puck widened his eyes and lifted his shoulders. Mike rolled his own and flicked Puck's palm away. He replaced it with his hand, making circular motion, pushing at her skin. Quinn – without another second – heaved one final cough and went back to normal.

"You alright?" Puck asked and she nodded, lifting a hand to stop him from fussing over her.

She calmed her beating heart and sighed. She looked back up and pointed at her glass, and then held up one finger. Mike widened his eyes and looked at her as though she was insane. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips.

"I want another one," she spoke.

"Quinn, you just choked on that one!" Puck scolded.

She glared pointedly at him and he slumped back into his seat. How the hell could two women like Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry make a man like him want to pee his pants? That was just out of the world! She turned back to Mike and gave him the same glare.

"Now, are you going to give me that bloody drink or not?" she said through gritted teeth.

The Asian sighed, unscrewed the bottle, and refilled the glass with an involuntary shrug. Puck sighed and nursed his own beer. Quinn was hopeless now. They both knew they couldn't stop her from drinking her ass off even if they wanted to. This went on for the next three hours and she was finally ready to pass out. But Puck wasn't ready for her to pass out on him! That would just give him something he didn't want to think about. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He called her.

"Hello?" Oh, she was sleeping. Okay, he didn't give a fuck whether she's sleeping or not. He wasn't going to let Quinn pass out here! No friggin way! "Puck, what's going on?"

"You need to get to Mike's bar pronto," he said, looking over his shoulder to see Quinn slurring at Mike and Mike nodding in agreement, even though he didn't understand a single word she was saying. Fucking professional. Mike Chang could definitely be an actor.

He heard Rachel sighed on the other end. "Puck, I'm sleeping. I've got a meeting with Evans tomorrow," Rachel said and was ready to hang up but Puck stopped him.

"No, you need to get here pronto and get Fabray the hell outta here," he pleaded.

"What?" This time, he heard rustling and he knew she was getting out of bed. "What the hell is she doing at Mike's? What did you do?"

"I did nothing!" he proclaimed loudly. "We took a stroll and ended up here. Mike and I tried to stop her from drinking too much but she wouldn't listen. She's on her thirtieth glass or something and she's ready to pass out. And I know you wouldn't want her to pass out all over me and let me think all those stupid things. I swear to God Quinn Fabray's hot as hell and I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Oh God," Rachel murmured. "Keep her conscious. I'll be there in twenty. And don't even think about doing anything to her!"

"Jesus, Rach, I called you because I don't want to end up doing something to her!" But she had already hung up.

Rachel turned into Fifth Avenue and glanced at her watch. Two thirty in the goddamn morning. And she couldn't even bring herself to care. Because it was Quinn Fabray they were talking about. The whole ride from her house to the bar she'd been wondering why Quinn would want to drink. The answer was right in front of her.

She wanted to forget. She wanted to find an outlet where she could just store the goddamn painful memories of Rachel and just keep it there. And alcohol was the only solution Quinn could find. Even if it's just temporary, Quinn was willing to use it.

Rachel brushed away a stray tear at the thought of that. She slammed the heel of her palm on the steering wheel and hissed when she felt the pain shooting up her arm, overwhelming her nerves and quickly pulled over to the side of the road. She checked her reddened skin and massaged it to soothe the pain. She sighed and laid her head on the steering wheel. How the hell could things turn out so freakin bad? She'd ask herself this question all the time. And she'd never gotten an answer.

What's worse was that she had to keep on associating with the Hudsons in order to proceed with her plan. Releasing another sigh, she revved up her engine and headed towards the bar. What she saw was completely startling and unexpected. She had never seen Quinn so drunk before. Not that she'd seen her drunk many times. But if she compared this time and the last time she'd seen Quinn drunk, this was so much worse. Puck was holding onto Quinn's elbow, keeping her from tipping over as she talked in slurred words. She turned to see Mike watching the blonde cautiously behind bar.

Rachel groaned and brushed her hair back before making her way to Quinn. So much for not seeing Quinn until she's done. Complete failure. She shook her head and wrapped her arm around Quinn's stomach to steady her equilibrium. Puck looked at her gratefully and she sighed, pulling out money from her wallet. She smacked it on the bar and pointed to herself. Mike nodded in acknowledgement and took the money. Rachel bade them goodbye while dragging Quinn out to her car. She had a hard time trying to strap Quinn in as the drunken woman could only flail her arms blindly and talk.

"Come on, Quinn. We're going home," Rachel coaxed, finally succeeding in buckling Quinn's seatbelt.

Quinn nodded and giggled. "Am I dreaming?" she said and Rachel backed her car into the main road. "Are you –" hiccup "– Rachel?" Another hiccup. Rachel kept her silence and resisted from taking Quinn's hand in her own. She kept her hands tightly on the steering wheel and drove forward, turning when necessary. Quinn had fallen asleep for almost the entire ride but woke up when they reached her apartment building. She rubbed her eyes and turned to Rachel. Still drunk, Rachel confirmed. She unbuckled her belt and killed her car before helping Quinn out.

"Come on. We need to get you up to your apartment," Rachel coaxed.

She was throwing Quinn's arm around her neck and helping her onto her feet when she heard Quinn murmured, "I miss you, Rach," into her eyes. She froze. Quinn whimpered in her ear, burying her face deeper into Rachel's neck, obviously thinking that she was still dreaming. "I really, really missed you, Rachel. I…I tried to not think about you all…all the time," she muttered. "But I can't. I missed you all the time."

Rachel inwardly sobbed. Quinn had no idea how fucking lethal her words were. Quinn had no idea Rachel's heart was bleeding non-stop. Quinn had no idea that this was her reality, where everything freaking hurt. She had no idea. Before she knew it, she had wrapped her arms around Quinn's body and pulled her into her arms. Rachel inhaled the smell of Quinn's hair and sighed. How long would she have to wait to finally come back to Quinn's arms? To finally come back to where she belonged?

Her breath shuddered and she tightened her arms around Quinn. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too," she whispered brokenly.

Quinn could only whimper and doze off in Rachel's arms.

Rachel sat in the conference room in her office building and read over the files while waiting for Sam to come. Yeah, right. She had been reading the same line for the last fifteen minutes and she couldn't even bring herself to care. Her brain was clogged. Everything she thought about would be disturbed by thoughts of Quinn and that night. She wondered if Quinn remembered what she said. She wondered if Quinn even knew that she was the one who brought her home that night.

She told Santana to not tell Quinn that she's the one who brought her home but her irrational part of mind was hoping to God that Quinn knew. Fucking irrational. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts when the door opened and Sam strode in. She put on a smile and put down the file as he sat opposite her. She took a deep breath and handed a file over to him.

"I found a shop lot for you that you might be interested in," Rachel explained her motives. "I thought this could make a better café than Lopez Delight's lot."

Sam opened the cover and began reading and looking at the photos taken. "It is furnished, renovated and refurbished. Everything is brand new." Yeah, like hell it's brand new. Rachel spent her money on all the shit in that failing shop lot located in a failing street. Thus, the beginning of her plan to topple Evans' family.

She could see he was tempted by the look on his face. She smirked to herself. This kid would surely be the main tool she'd use to destroy his family. But her target wasn't him. Her target was his stepmother, the woman who had brought her into this mess. She knew her dead parents wouldn't be proud of her – whoever they were – but she didn't give a shit. They're dead and buried somewhere on earth, she felt that they have no right to feel disappointed anymore.

He smacked his lips and looked up at her. "Why are you doing this?"

She chuckled and folded her hands on the table, swiveling her chair from left to right repeatedly. "I am doing this because I want to. And of course, I want to ask for a little favor," Rachel added.

He narrowed his eyes. She laughed and inclined her head towards. "Fear not, Mr Evans, it's nothing too much. It's just that I would like to get five per cent of the profits you will earn for the first month after you open the shop."

"What if I say no?"

She smiled and shrugged. "I will buy that lot for myself. And believe me, I will buy that lot no matter how much it costs me," she sniggered.

Sam stared at her for a moment longer before his lips quirked up. Her smile widened. Bingo. Fish was now heading into the big fucking net. She was just waiting for him to swim into it, and then a horde of fish consisting of Finn Hudson, Carole Hudson, Burt Hudson and Erika would follow his tail.

Quinn Fabray was messed up. She buried her head into her hands and groaned. Five days since her drunken adventure. Or non-adventure. Whatever. She wanted to cry right now. Santana had refused to tell her who had brought her home. Neither did Puck. Their refusals were enough to tell her that it was her who brought her home that night.

She should've known. She thought it was a friggin' dream when it was actually real. It was really Rachel who brought her home that night. Quinn let her head slid and hung low as she thought back to the thing she had said that night. She moaned in exasperation and fall down onto her back on the bed. Why would she even say those things? Even if it was a dream, she shouldn't have said them! This was a disaster. She knew it. So much for not seeing each other for the moment. That had just fall down the cliff and could no longer be found.

She wanted to punch herself so much.

So she did.

She curled her hand into a fist and punched herself in the cheek. Blaine who happened to pass by saw it and quickly rushed to her side. "What the hell are you doing?" he exclaimed, alarmed and concerned. He pulled her up by the arm and examined her bruised cheek. "Holy crap, Quinn. You're bruising!"

"Who the hell cares?" she exclaimed and buried her head into her pillow.

"I do!" he replied loudly. "Come on, I'm going to put something on that awful bruise." He forcefully pulled her into the kitchen and took out an ice pack for her. She applied the pack to her cheek. "I should have known you'd go down the road of depression when you asked to stay home today. It's Friday and the day when the bakery would constantly be visited by customers and you're asking for a day off. How freakin' weird is that?"

"Shouldn't you be at work?" she muttered, frowning at her brother.

He shrugged. "Day off."

"Go out on a date or something," she ordered.

"I am. Tonight."

She smiled and winced at the pain in her cheekbone. Shit. What the hell was she thinking when she punched herself in the face? He grimaced. She hissed in pain and he clicked his tongue at her. "What?"

"You are a dumbfuck for punching yourself in the freakin face like that," Blaine commented quietly.

Doctor's office. They were sitting in the doctor's fucking office. And she was looking around as if it was her first time coming here. It actually was. She'd never been to a hospital before. She mentally shook her head. Never in her whole life had she ever damaged herself to the extent of coming to the hospital. So it freaked the hell out of her as she sat in the waiting room, waiting for the fucking doctor to just come back from the restroom and get down to business.

Sebastian rolled her eyes when he saw Rachel looking around, anxious as shit. He put a calming hand on her shoulder and she turned to him. He raised his brows at her and held up his hand.

"You need to stop. You're making me anxious when I am not and that is not okay. So stop this shit and just calm the hell down. The doctor is going come in and you're gonna talk to him," Sebastian scolded and Rachel heaved a sigh before nodding. He nodded. "I don't even know why the hell you asked me and not Puck."

"He's on guard duty, in case you've forgotten," she snapped. He chuckled and brushed his brow. "It's not funny. Her safety is my priority now."

"Not even the plan for vengeance can top that?" She shook her head without hesitation. "Okay, so you've covered her security. Why the hell are you covering her medical needs as well?" Sebastian questioned curiously. "I know you're in love with her. But I just don't know why the hell you'd want to do this."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you even hear yourself? I'm in love with her. I love her. She's important to me. I want her to be healthy. So why don't I just seize any possible opportunity I get to help her? I will do anything I can to help her. Including this. I don't even care how much it costs me."

"You're whipped."

"So?"

Wondering why she's in the hospital with Sebastian? Just wait and see! By the way, review to tell me what you think, alright? I'd to love to see some feedback. Please, just type a few words. I don't care if it's negative criticism or positive review, I want them. Come on! I'll give you Santana's sweet lady kisses if you review!