A/N: Hey friends! Day 23! How are yall doing? I apologize for this being a week late, but I had some life (namely college) stuff to take care of, and, to be quite honest, I wasn't in a great space mentally for a bit there. But I'm back, and I hope to keep getting these last chapters up within the next week!

This is a bit of a somber note to return on, so I apologize for that, too. This is loosely inspired by the musical, The Last Five Years, mostly the song "If I Didn't Believe In You." Feel free to give it a listen after reading this if you want. (Also this might be considered a bit ooc for Rachel... I'm not entirely sure. Sorry anyway.)

Day 23: Arguing

"Rach, are you coming tonight?"

Rachel watches her girlfriend slip on her shoes as she gets ready to head out to the store. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Quinn glances back at her expectantly, and Rachel doesn't know how to respond.

Tonight is (another) one of Quinn's many book release parties, or readings, or whatever it is that her publishing company is holding for her. It's the second one this week, and the hundredth one this month, or at least that's what it feels like.

"I'm, uh, I'm not sure, baby," Rachel says instead of answering properly. "I have to see what I have lined up for the day."

Quinn just smiles, albeit a bit tensely, and offers her a little wave. "No worries. Do you need anything from the store?"

Rachel smiles back. "No, I'm good."

"Alright," Quinn replies. "I'll be right back," She pauses before tagging on a "Love you!" at the end.

"Love you, too." Rachel calls as Quinn walks out of their apartment, the door closing softly behind her.

Rachel sighs heavily, slumping over in her seat at the kitchen table and pressing her face into her hands. She wants to go to Quinn's event tonight. No, scratch that. She wants to want to go. She really does. But lately, more often than not, she's been growing tired of attending Quinn's events. Partially because they are so numerous, but also partially because Rachel has begun to feel something that she never thought she would feel towards her girlfriend.

Resentment. Driven by jealousy and insecurity, but still, resentment.

It didn't begin this way. She swears it didn't. It had started as nothing but unconditional love and support for her girlfriend. Rachel adored watching Quinn live out her childhood dreams of publishing a book and becoming a successful author. The thing was, neither of them had any idea just how successful she would become.

Four months ago, Quinn's book dropped, and it immediately became a New York Times Bestseller. Within hours, her agent was calling her with dozens of offers for interviews: phone calls, in person, on TV, you name it. She was being asked to do book readings, book signings, to give book talks and presentations at colleges, to be on authors' panels and to speak at conventions. Quinn was booked, nonstop, for weeks on end.

All while Rachel had just finished her run in an off-Broadway show when it had closed due to low ticket sales, and she was struggling to find work.

Quinn was the most successful she had ever been while Rachel was going to audition after audition and booking nothing. She was auditioning for countless projects each week, and the rejection calls were getting exhausting. She had even considered going back to Ohio to do some smaller community theatre roles for the summer, just so she could get some work. Quinn had quickly talked her out of it, but the point still stood.

It was a matter of pride for Rachel. Not that she thought her girlfriend could never be more successful than her, but that Rachel, herself, wasn't having the same success that she had always dreamed of.

Once upon a time, Rachel had said that she needs applause to live, and, years later, it's still true. She knows she's talented, but, without an audience, what's the point? She hasn't quite yet landed the role that will propel her into stardom, and it has been disappointing, to say the least.

It was largely unsurprising that Rachel began to become jealous of Quinn's success. Every time her girlfriend would mention another interview, or another signing, or another party, a sinking feeling would settle in Rachel's stomach. It was born from insecurity, spun together with jealousy, and gradually morphed into full-on resentment.

She had begun to resent Quinn's success, and she despises herself for it. Rachel knows Quinn deserves all of the success she has received, and she knows that none of it comes at a disadvantage to herself, but she cannot seem to get past these lingering thoughts.

Unfortunately, they all seem to come to a head that night when Quinn is getting ready to go to the book release party. It's the second this week, Rachel feels the need to repeat, even though her book was released four months ago.

"You sure you don't wanna come, baby?" Quinn asks, slipping on a pair of heels.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Rachel mumbles from the kitchen as she packs up the leftovers from their early dinner.

"You sure sure?" Quinn asks with a smile. She walks over to Rachel, sliding her arms around her waist from behind her. "Because it's at my agent's apartment, and I know he has this nice, little private bathroom that I was hoping we could sneak into and—"

"No!" Rachel cuts her off harshly. Quinn's hands go still, then fall away from her waist, and Rachel misses them instantly. Still, she just says, "No, Quinn, I don't want to go to another one of your parties."

She hears Quinn take a step back behind her, and Rachel spins around to find Quinn looking at her, confusion and hurt evident on her face. "What do you mean… another one of my parties?"

Rachel sighs, eyes falling to the ground. "Nothing. It's-it's nothing."

"Rach?"

She looks back up and sees Quinn's pleading eyes, and Rachel instantly feels bad again. She hates herself for feeling this way, but she feels the weight lift off her chest when she says, "There's just so many of them, and it feels like… like that's all we do anymore."

"I don't understand," Quinn murmurs.

"I just–We don't really have a lot of time together anymore, and whenever we do, it–it feels like we're always talking about something about your book, or we're at an event for your book, or you're talking about plans for a sequel to your book…" Rachel trails off nervously, knowing she's opening a gate she's not sure she's ready to enter.

Quinn takes another step back, the distance between them growing, and it makes Rachel sick to her stomach. She hates this feeling, but she can't just pretend she never said anything.

Still, when Quinn is silent, Rachel tries to say, "Never mind, Quinn, just forget I said anything," but Quinn cuts her off.

"No, Rach, I… I just don't get it," She explains. "This is–it's a part of my job, these events, especially since the book has been so successful."

"I know that, and I am so happy for you, baby, but…" Rachel pauses, dropping her gaze to the floor. "We go to these parties, and I stand there like–like some trophy wife, answering questions about you and–and watching you get all of this attention while I just sit there."

Quinn's eyes flash with something that Rachel can't quite recognize. "I'm sorry that happens to you, but it… it isn't really about you."

Her words stab Rachel in the chest, and she watches as Quinn's expression turns cold, colder than usual, at least, and she continues, saying, "These events are for me, to celebrate my success, thrown by my agent and my publishing company. It's not like I'm trying to throw my success around in people's faces."

"Well, that's what it feels like!" Rachel blurts out.

Quinn's eyes widen, and Rachel fights the urge to slap a hand over her mouth. She knows she's getting emotional and letting words slip out before she can think about them. But they are out there, and she can't take them back. Instead, she sees Quinn take yet another step back. There's nearly five feet of space between them now, and it is screaming with tension and uncertainty.

"Rachel, what is this? Is this about something else?" Quinn asks. "Because it feels like you're blaming me for something that I don't have control over."

Rachel sighs, "No, I'm not blaming you. It just really hurts seeing you get all of this attention, which you so deserve, while my career is… currently less than."

"And somehow that's my fault?" Quinn says snarkily.

"No!" Rachel refutes, her voice raising. "No, I just said that I don't blame you."

Quinn scoffs. "Well, that's what it feels like." She mutters, throwing Rachel's words back in her face.

Her words sting, cutting deep, and Rachel feels tears begin to form in her eyes. "I've just worked my entire life for this," She explains shakily, "For my success. And it feels like, no matter what I do, I just can't seem to get ahead."

"Rachel," Quinn exhales sharply, "You know how much I believe in you. If I didn't, we have this amazing life together that we have. You know how much I believe in your talent and the success I know you will achieve eventually."

Rachel senses a "but" coming, and she's correct when Quinn continues, saying, "But you can't expect me to put my career on hold and wait for yours to catch up." Her breath catches in her throat at the scathing tone Quinn's voice has taken on. "I–I'm not gonna turn down these events and opportunities to celebrate my hard work because they make you uncomfortable."

She pauses, and Rachel's heart pounds fiercely in her chest. She knows she's being irrational, and she knows Quinn is (mostly) right, but that doesn't stop her from saying, "You've only been working at this for a few years, Quinn, and you've already reached your goals. I've been working at this my entire life, and I still haven't gotten the success that you have! It isn't fair!"

Quinn's eyes grow wide. "Oh, so now I don't even deserve the success I've gotten because I haven't been doing this as long as you have? Great, Rachel, thank you so much for that." Her voice cracks with the last few words, and she stands up and begins walking toward the door.

"Quinn, wait," Rachel calls out regretfully, "That's not what I meant."

Quinn stops in her tracks and spins around to meet Rachel's eyes. Her eyes are gleaming with unshed tears, and she says, "Yes, it is. You meant it. And I have to go."

She turns and walks out the door, letting it slam shut behind her, and Rachel's knees give out beneath her. She falls to the floor, her butt landing hard on the wooden floor below her, and cries into her hands. Once again, Rachel has let her insecurities get the best of her, and she's not sure how she can come back from this one.

A/N: Part two coming soon, I promise. Again, inspired by "If I Didn't Believe in You" from The Last Five Years and a couple other songs from the show.