A/N: New readers, hi. Welcome. Bienvenidos. This author's note is not for you.

Old readers (hey woah, not old just aged) you may notice that the first 16 chapters of this, or pre-whentheworldfelltoshit, may look different than they did the first time you read (or the 2nd or 3rd or however many times you read this wondering when the hell I would return). But the truth is, when I re-read this story to remember what the hell I was writing, I decided that my style has changed so drastically that in order for this story to read like a cohesive piece, I was going to re-edit the chapters. Some are vastly different, some are not. The first 3 are reposted. The next 13 will be changed between now and the end of the weekend. The important thing though… *THE STORY CONTENT DID NOT CHANGE*. So that means, reread them if you would like, but it is not necessary to continue on with the story.

"Fuck, Quinn. I'm not sure I can -" Rachel Berry's head bounced off the sturdy oak cabinet behind her. The pain was barely felt - all she felt was the three fingers she had buried deep inside.

"Shhh," the blonde husked against a delicate ear. Smooth, hot air sending chills down the 5-foot framed singer head to toe.

"Jesus fuck Qui-" and a guttural moan. The normally verbose brown eyed girl didn't have the words because Quinn was doing that thing with her thumb and oh, don't ever stop doing that thing with your thumb. It brushes lightly against a hooded clit, coaxing all logical thought out of her head.

"Shhh," she slowed her movements almost to a stop. Another, more frustrated, moan reverberated against both or their necks. Fuck, keep going.

"He isn't that heavy of a sleeper." The deep voice whispered again, flicking the shell of the smaller girl's ear with the tip of her perfect tongue.

Rachel nodded her head because, dear God, she would be as quiet as Quinn wanted if it meant she would pick up her pace. After what felt like an agonizing pause, the blonde slammed into her lover, hard.

Rachel bit her bottom lip and felt the taste of copper on her tongue but the pain just made her wetter. She was so close and –

"Come on my hand so I can lick you off my fingers." Another whisper and another taste of blood. But those words were all it took and Rachel's body shook. It shook and then it ceased because any motion at all felt impossible. Her thumb continued to stroke an overly sensitive clit and her fingers continued to move until the diva slumped against the cabinet and rested her forehead on a delicate shoulder.

After what felt like a year and a day trying to regain her breath, Quinn slowly pulled out and pulled her head back to look at her work. Hazel orbs coated in black lust locked with brown as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked. The side of her mouth quirked up as she lightly moaned at the taste on her lips.

Rachel pulled her by the neck to have a taste for herself but when two sweaty foreheads met, she tilted to the side just out of reach. She let out a light chuckle, laced with a forcefulness that should have sent a fear down her lover, not another flood to her core like it did.

Quietly, so quietly Rachel almost didn't hear the sneer in her tone, she bit, "You get so fucking wet when I fuck you, don't you?"

It wasn't a question she had to answer. The proof all over the kitchen counter. The brunette was still dripping. But in the next instant, Quinn was gone. Picking up underwear and shorts off the floor somewhere near the refrigerator where they had been thrown the second her secret had walked in the door. Rachel breathed a sigh and jumped off the counter. They were done.

She handed them to the shorter girl without a word and slipped off to wash her hands while Rachel slid them on in shame. Staring at the back of her short blond hair, the only thought flowing through the diva's mind was how she always got it to look just a little bit different, but never out of place..

"It's been fun. As always." Her cold tone contradicts her words. It's always fun. But it's never kind.

"Next time, I can, you know, for you-" Rachel haphazardly offers despite knowing it's futile. Quinn won't accept it next time - just like she didn't this time. But she nods her head once regardless and takes a sip of water. It's time for Rachel to leave.

Rachel checks her pockets but reminds herself she doesn't have any belongings on her. The less evidence she can leave behind, the better.

She lifts her head on the hope for a kiss goodbye but finds herself alone, staring into the dark.

"Where are you, bitch?" Rang through the quiet doorway just as she snuck through. Busted.

"In here, Kurt." Rachel called back through a thin smile as she dropped her keys unceremoniously onto the counter. Already dreading the third degree she was no doubt about to receive.

"Ah ha!" He yelled when he turned the corner from his bedroom. "Where have you been Miss Berry?"

Her flamboyant roommate stops directly before her and grabs onto both forearms and kisses each cheek once. A habit she wished he had left behind in France after his study abroad program. He places a steadying hand on her shoulder to keep her in place.

"The library." A lie.

"Oh. Big test coming up, or …" He trails off. A knowing passes across his eyes.

"Yup, Musical Theory test Monday. Big big big." A lie again, this time with a smile.

"Were you there with anybody?" His head tilts to the side.

The brunette shake's her head. "All by myself. What smells so good in here?" She tries to change the subject and look around the kitchen for something else to focus on. The lies came easier these days, but it didn't mean she didn't still feel a little guilty about it.

"I ordered Chinese. I went by the library earlier to print out my English paper and I didn't see you." He cocks his head to the side, challenging her story.

"I was in a private room in the back." A playful swat taps the tip of his nose. Keep it light and he will eventually stop. Just be your normal self. Throw your long-winded rant his way. "You know I sing through Musical Theory. I highly doubt my peers would appreciate my breaking out into Barbra's rendition of Don't Rain on My Parade. Even though it is by far the best selection in my vocal repertoire."

He takes a deep breath but leaves it at that. "Okay, well I got some extra Chinese in the fridge. I figured you didn't eat while you were out." He lets go of her and she takes the opportunity to scamper off. She really was quite hungry.

Kurt takes a seat at the center island while she heats up leftovers. The smell takes over the inside of her nostrils and the realization dawns that she hasn't eaten all day.

"So…." He taps his fingers against the cool granite on the counter top looking for something to break the silence. "Are you going to Quinn's thing this weekend?"

She faults for a second with the fork and it's enough for him to continue.

"Her bridal shower. It's this weekend." His tapping stops and runs a nervous hand through his freshly dried hair. "I know you aren't captain of the Quinn fan club, but she's going to be my sister-in-law and I just really think … "

Rachel cuts him off with a snarl before he can finish.

"I just don't see the point, Kurt. Where's the soy sauce?"

"Top shelf, right cabinet above the sink. Rachel. You have to let what happened all those years ago go."

"Let it go? Which part? The name calling, the slushie throwing, the boyfriend stealing? I let all that stuff go." Really, I did. Trust me. "But that doesn't mean I support all of this.

"Is this because of Finn?" He lets it out in a breath so quiet I would think he was scared of the answer.

"No." And that wasn't a lie.

*6 months earlier*

It wasn't what she was expecting it to be. She'd been living in New York for just over 3 years now and it wasn't at all the glamorous life she had hoped for.

Sure, she was out of Lima and that was the goal. Sure, she had been accepted into NYADA with my best friend and was on her way to getting the diploma on the wall accrediting her to live out her dream under the illustrious lights of Broadway.

She still walked by the marquees and got chills thinking that one day it would be her name, Rachel Berry, in people's playbills. She never lost that dream. But something was missing.

It was a chilly Friday night in October after an impossibly hard showcase for her Junior seminar when she walked into Clydes. It was the only bar I knew on this side of the city that she knew would be free of any familiar faces. She took my usual perch and flagged down the bartender.

"The usual, Miss Berry?" she nodded swiftly as he wiped his hands on the towel. He gave her a short nod and turned to pick up a glass from the shelf behind him and she toyed with a loose thread on the end of my coat.

"Take off your jacket and stay awhile," He laughed his charismatic laugh as he flashed his bright smile her way. She couldn't help but return it, albeit halfhearted.

"Thanks Frank." She wasn't in the mood for chatting. And she wasn't in the mood for taking off my coat.

Frank didn't have to be told. And that's one of her favorite things about him. She'd been coming to this spot for 3 years. It was the only place she knew that didn't seem to mind when she was a freshman and her ID said she was a 26 year old named Lily from Queens. They also never batted an eye when she suddenly grew younger and her name changed a few months ago.

She only came here on the days she needed a pick-me-up that came in the form of 80 proof and on the rocks. It was only on days when she couldn't help but think of the what-ifs.

People came in and out all the time. The bell above the door signaled their entrance to seclusion and their return to reality. It wasn't a place to socialize and it wasn't a place to ask questions. It was a place to think inside your own head.

That's why she never noticed her walk through the door. She never noticed her sit down on the stool beside her and she never heard her voice order a drink.

Who knows how long she had been sitting there before Rachel picked her head up to throw a twenty down on the table and retreat back to my apartment on 83rd street. But the raise of her eyebrow and a nearly empty glass said she had been waiting for the brunette to notice for quite some time.

Rachel dropped her wallet back into her purse and faced her past.