Episode 8, Chapter 1:
According to the Catholic Church, mortal sin can only be absolved through the sacred act of confession, and it looks like a certain Christian princess has recently found herself desperately in need of a little unburdening. And who is the Man upstairs to discriminate?
"What worries you, dear girl?"
"I've done something unspeakable," Quinn said to the man behind the mesh.
"I'm sure it can't be as terrible as you say. Do know that God forgives all who promise not to trespass him against him again," the priest responded.
"It's been a while since my last confession, Father. I've done bad things before, but what happened last night was much worse. I've bullied, lied, been envious, coveted a lot, but now I have to add adultery."
"You're not married, child?"
"No, dating. Well, not currently dating. It's complicated," she announced pitifully. Quinn blubbered a bit when she cried. The tears in her eyes were real, but the tone of voice was how you knew she was hurt. "The fact is that I cheated with my boyfriend's best friend, which is something I told myself I'd never do after my friend did that to me."
"Did you forgive this friend?"
"Eventually, yes."
"Well then my advice is to forgive yourself first. Promise yourself and God that you'll not stray from the good path, abstain from acting on…urges, and try not to lie. Honesty and trust are good and gracious."
"Thank you, Father," she made the sign of the cross before leaving the confessional.
Outside she applied her sunglasses to avoid the sun, which burned down on her like she was a vampire meant to live in the dark. Certainly, God was not through with her if she could feel this lousy.
She'd snuck out of bed before the sun rose and left Puck's room and apartment after getting her clothes, hoping that no one saw her. She blamed the alcohol mostly. Quinn did know her limits. She had just purposely brushed passed them last night. And look where that got her? she told herself while hailing a cab in front of the posh hotel as she left with the rest of the morning check-out crowd.
She never wore black, but after she got home to change into the black American Apparel Interlock Wrap dress. [Home the Wiz] She thought it appropriate to dress for the occasion. She'd betrayed herself. It would be harder than the priest said to just forgive herself.
Kurt and Blaine had fallen asleep on his couch. They knew better than to go into Blaine's room in the middle of the night when Burt could catch them in the morning and get the wrong idea. He would allow them to do what they wanted under his roof as long as it was PG through PG-13. They freshened up, and Kurt dressed in some of Blaine's clothes that were a little too large for the shorter boy to wear regularly. Blaine had kept them for the day he decided to have them dry cleaned, and shrunken, if possible, but they looked so good on Kurt he gave him permission to keep them. Kurt was stylish in anything he wore. Blaine never could have put that together himself. Blaine wore a red Ben Sherman Funnel Neck Cardigan with a red plaid button down, and Kurt had on his silver Jeremy Scott for Adidas 3-Tongue Low Sneakers, mint-colored pants, white button-down shirt, and tie with a cream-colored jacket. [1st Klaine ILY]
Only partially hungover, they went to the corner café for coffee and baguettes. Kurt loved his coffee, and he loved even more that Blaine knew his coffee order. No one he ever went for coffee with knew what it was. Kurt was shaken out of his reverie when their drinks arrived by none other than Tina Cohen-Chang.
"Tina, hey, what are you doing here?" Blaine asked her, half hugging her from his seat.
"It was the best part-time job I could find, and I need money to stay afloat. Honestly, waitressing drives me crazy, and I don't even like coffee."
"She hates the buzz," Blaine spoke to Kurt, who smiled, and then he turned back to Tina. "I'm sure you'll find something."
"Until then, I'm stuck!"
Just then, someone called her name from the back kitchen, and she ground her teeth together.
"I'll talk to you later."
"With that attitude, she won't last long here," Kurt blew at his cup.
"I'm sure she'll be fine. I've known her my whole life. I'm going to leave her a big tip. I probably shouldn't because I don't have a lot of cash, but I gotta help her out," he said and took out his wallet sneaking a ten under his plate for later. Kurt smiled at how kind he was.
Quinn returned to her home from her confession but didn't make it to the elevators before Puck caught up with her.
"Not you!" she groaned and pressed the button for the elevator. She'd even consider taking the stairs to the penthouse if it didn't come fast enough.
"You're not happy to see me even a little?" he smirked.
"Puck, go away. I don't want to do this. Not here, not now, not ever!"
"You didn't care where we did it last night. I practically had to drag you out of the limo or you would have done the deed in there."
"You're vile and need to be neutered, Puckerman, I swear," she said, and thankfully the door rang, and she entered. Other people moved to get in, but once Puck got in, he made them all leave and pressed the 'close doors' button.
"We're on camera, Puck. So you better be on your best behavior, or I will press charges," she demanded.
"Only squealers tell," he smiled happy that he had her alone for twelve floors.
"I will tell Sam what happened before I'll tell you what you want to hear. You got me drunk and that's the only reason what happened, happened."
"I didn't get you drunk. You wanted that. You wanted everything. Fight me if you want to, but you enjoyed it, and I'm going to enjoy your birthday party."
"There's no way on Earth you're still invited to that. I'm fixing things with Sam end of story," she crossed her arms. The elevator was slow for no good reason.
"No, you won't," Puck deadpanned. "He broke your heart so he doesn't deserve you. Give someone else a chance."
He was honest, and it threw Quinn for a loop. When he did that, she couldn't help but be curious about what Puck really wanted from her. He couldn't actually want a relationship. That wasn't his style. She knew him, or she thought she did. The doors dinged open after the eternity in the elevator. "You're not coming to the party," was the last thing she said. Puck grinned and pressed the lobby button. He couldn't wait.
Speak of the devil, and He doth appear, wearing his trademark jacket. Careful, Q. Hell hath no fury like a Puckerman scorned.
Blaine hadn't expected to hear from his mother for a long time. So, when he came home from breakfast and then, only five minutes after he put his keys on the table and rested himself on the couch to watch the news, Shelby knocked on the door, he was confused about how to react. She was his mom, yes, and they had a lot of good years together too, years where she was his whole world, but things had changed a lot. He knew though that she had left home years back to shack up with some man she met on her course for self-discovery. It was different from asking for a divorce. It felt personally directed at them—no matter what she said on the phone or when they went to visit her.
Even Rachel wasn't happy to see her. When she'd left, Rachel had gotten depressed, worse than Blaine ever saw her. She needed her mom, but Shelby was always at the center of trouble.
Burt couldn't use his voice. He hugged her without a word. Because she was there with a bag in her hand, he knew she planned to stay over.
This wouldn't be awkward at all.
"I'm the best cook so how about I make some breakfast before the tension gets any worse?" Blaine took off to the kitchen in an attempt to keep the rest of his thoughts to himself before they burst out of the cage in his tightly gelled head. He watched his mother from the corner of his eye waiting to see her move. It was years since she was last in this space.
Shelby was beautiful and an amazing singer. Rachel always admired her mom growing up for that amazing voice. Since then, Rachel's confidence in her was shaken.
"You look tired Rachel. Did you get enough sleep?" Shelby asked her.
"She was out last night," Burt finally spoke.
"You let her go out? That's new. You came home by curfew I hope."
"We don't have curfew," Rachel commented.
"Well, that is because you never went out when I was here so we never set one. It should be midnight. My parents never would have let me out later than that." Rachel winced. She got home at 2. Burt looked a little guilty.
"Listen to your mom, okay?" Burt took the lead. Rachel nodded in agreement.
"I'm sorry to just drop in. I missed you. I wanted to see you. It's been a while."
"More than the summer, you promised it would be," Burt pointed out, and Blaine sighed to himself. He wasn't interested in having this conversation. He knew already how it ended.
"I know…"
"So, is that it? Are you coming back?" Rachel got her hopes up in a moment. Then Rachel noticed the single bag Shelby brought along that Rachel overlooked before. No, this wasn't permanent. Shelby would have probably told them something positive before they left her for the summer if it was good news.
"Your dad and I need to talk. Help your brother with breakfast, okay, Rachel?"
Blaine didn't really want to cook knowing he would get himself nauseated with smells. He could hear all the important stuff between the two of them from the privacy of his locked bedroom if he wanted, but Rachel really wanted to start eating her eggs. Blaine shrugged and put the hot eggs on a plate. His parents' voices varied in volume, but it sounded like they were working their stuff out.
"Do you think she'll stay?" Rachel asked Blaine. She was supposed to help keep him sane, but instead, she leaned in a bit deeper to the possibility of a recovery of their hearts and minds. He moved the hot plate further away from his sister who had her fork ready. She pouted. Blaine smirked went to the fridge, and when he got back, she had her fork in the eggs. He rolled his eyes. What could he do?
They talked like they would have before Shelby left as they ate breakfast. The parents seemed to have reached some area of amicability. Blaine wasn't ready to forgive. He wanted to, but he couldn't. Shelby noticed how he talked to his sister, but Blaine wouldn't look her in the eye. While Burt and Rachel put away the dishes. Shelby angled her head towards the parents' bedroom, and Blaine braced himself for their talk. The nights before Kurt, she had been the focus of his thoughts. He thought long and hard about what he would tell his mother when she came back. On the nights he was moody, he didn't forgive her and refused to let her talk. On the nights he was sentimental, he shed a tear and cried in her arms.
Shelby began talking once she closed the door. She started with the story of the girl she'd been when she met his father. She hadn't planned on getting pregnant so soon, and while she loved his father and him, she was young. It moved so very quickly that she knew she'd lost herself. From being under the banner of her parents, she'd gone out to become a performer, and then, she felt trapped. Shelby was stuck in a life she never planned on, and not at all the person she wanted to be. Burt made it easier for her because he loved her and wanted to make her happy. She was for a couple of years then she had Rachel and the familiar dread came back. She was not herself. Shelby was living someone else's dream.
Things had been easy enough to leave. Since her kids were older, she decided she needed to do this for herself now. She saw sure they'd survive without her.
"So, you were talking to dad about a divorce?" Blaine rushed to the supposed end of her story.
"No, I told him we'd discuss me coming back after Christmas."
"Christmas?! YOU WANT TO PROLONG THIS LONGER! No, mom! No, you have to decide. Dad's crazy about you, he will listen to you and wait. If you told Rachel this story, she'd be thrilled believing you're coming home. And when Christmas Day came and went and you needed more time, you'd break her heart," he raged. Shelby reached out to calm him, but he wouldn't let her near him.
"What do you want me to say?"
"That you love us and are coming home! Or, that you love your new life with Rod Remington and that's the end! I know you thought we couldn't live without you, but we can. You're in and out of our lives. You're not real or imaginary. It's infuriating!" Blaine didn't know what he wanted his mom to say anymore.
It was quiet for a long time. Blaine got a hold of himself. He almost never got angry or raised his voice. Eventually in the silence, he calmed down.
"I understand what you want from me. You want it to be easy for me to make my decision, but it's not. I haven't worked out everything with your father and that's why I'm staying here for tonight and the weekend."
"You only packed a bag…" Blaine commented not looking at her.
"Well I'll pick up some more clothes. I will figure this out in these few days. If I stay, it is for good, and if I leave, it'll be with signed papers and the option to visit me if you want. Is that better Blaine?"
Her son cried piteously. She didn't know where he got his puppy eyes from, but they were enough to finally bring her to tears as well. She hugged her son tightly because she didn't know how many chances she'd have left.
Quinn had performance rehearsals and a dress fitting left before her 18th birthday party. Years ago, admittedly with Kurt's help, she decided the theme would be Madonna. Everything the woman had ever done was amazing and barrier-shattering. She couldn't be happier that her night would be a split dedication between herself and the Queen of Pop. Kurt would be singing more than one song for her. Besides the diamond earrings she'd put on her wish list at Tiffany's, there was nothing she wanted for her birthday. Therefore, Kurt had the simplest and hands-down best gift already and the night was yet to come.
At rehearsals for her solo, she wore a pink Juicy Couture Pocket Velour sweatshirt, a white, pleated tennis skirt, and a pair of white Nike 'Free TR Fit' Training shoes to practice her routine. [Bootcamp S3] If she botched a turn, she looked over at Brittany, who was there for moral support and to help her with the routine. She wondered what the blonde and Santana had gotten her. They kept it so secret Quinn didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
Quinn was not focused on her dance, and unfortunately, in ten minutes, the rest of the girls would be there to practice their group performance. Dancing alone on the stage, she was confident for a while. Then, the nagging voice in her head reminded her not to be overconfident; dancing in a room where one wrong move could ruin everything, meant she had to be perfect.
More turns later, Santana arrived. She attempted to run in heels and whispered something fiercely into Brittany's ear. And Brittany's hand went up to cover her mouth when she looked at Quinn. Santana, obviously then, whispered that she should keep calm and not make a scene, but it was too late because Quinn had seen it.
"What's going on?"
"Don't freak out okay, but Blake and Leighton were in bus accident. Blake broke her arm and Leighton broke her foot—or the other way around—so basically they can't do the dance," Santana waited for her reaction, knowing it wouldn't be good.
"Are you kidding me? What's wrong with this city? What should I—it's a group dance! There's supposed to be a certain number of us, and now we're down two," Quinn brushed her hair back as she paced. "Is there anyone else available?"
"I know you won't want to hear this, but you should probably bring in Rachel. I hate to say nice things about the troll, but she's a great singer," Santana offered.
"And she can dance too," Brittany interjected biting her finger.
"She'll only be minorly embarrassing and she definitely won't take the attention off of you," Santana assured Quinn confidently. "You're way prettier. We need someone who could learn it fast, and she'd do anything to get back in with us."
"Yes, but if she did this, she'd want something back, and I need to weigh my options first," Quinn replied sarcastically. Of course, Rachel was the best option, but she was also the most dangerous. First, she keeps secrets, second, she didn't particularly like her, and third, she had a lot of ambition trapped into her lithe, petite frame. "Give me your phone," she eventually decided.
Once the girl answered Santana's phone, she swept the two away to get ready for practice. Unless Rachel managed to do everything that Quinn said to a 'T,' then it could still be a no deal, but unlucky/lucky for Quinn, Rachel was in the studio with a bag in 40 minutes.
The little brunette learned the routine easily due to her dance training. Quinn felt only partially better about her decision to bring her in. Rachel also gave Quinn the idea to use her and Blaine's friend Tina as the second dancer. While they might have been able to complete the dance with the 5 people they had, Quinn trusted Rachel on this final matter to bring in Tina. Tina preferred anything over her job waiting tables, and she was told there would be money involved.
~A.N. Anyone else notice the names I gave to Quinn's injured back-up dancers, Blake and Leighton? It works doesn't it. Also, we're so close to the Power of Madonna episode 3
