AN: Hey everyone. :] I had another idea for this fic, so I'm rolling with it. I'll be attempting to do other little oneshots in Finn's, Quinn's, and Puck's POV. It's Rachel's POV here. Again, this is just coming off the top of my head so excuse any grammar slip-ups or something. Hope you enjoy! :] 3

Why?

I love him.

Why me?

I'm invisible.

Why me?

I'm a freak.

Why me?

I'm hurt.

Why me?

Okay, so I know you hate me. I love him and you love him and now we both know we'll be the second best. That's a hard pill to swallow, you know. I'm Rachel Berry. I'm used to getting everything I want and yes, I know that makes me a spoiled brat. I can't help it. You understand. You know.

Why me?

I don't understand what I did wrong. What made you hate me like you do?

Why me?

I knew I loved him from the moment I heard him sing. When we sang together… Oh, it was like the heavens joined together to burst in angelic music. At least, that's what I like to think. Mr. Shue always clapped heartily and praised us, and that was all I needed to know. Our voices are perfect together. We'd be perfect together and I know it. We won't get that chance. He has her.

Why me?

I thought you were being friendly. I thought I was actually making progress with someone! I tried so hard to be, as you so eloquently put it, un-diva-ish. I only wanted a chance… I never had a real friend before, not really. I was willing to put away my pride, so I accepted when you offered me a makeover. I should have seen it coming. I should have picked up on it. I should have looked at you, and then I would have seen the longing gazes you fixed on him. They mirrored my own.

I love him.

You. Humiliated. Me. I don't know why you did it, and I don't think you'd ever tell me. Knowing your own diva attitude, you'd just shrug me off and strut away. I hate you. I have never hated someone before, but I know I hate you and I will never forgive you for this. I sobbed for an hour or two when Finn Hudson turned my advances away with a choppy and confused explanation.

I'm invisible.

I cried even longer when I realized what you had done.

I'm a freak.

I'm watching as Finn and Quinn (oh God, their names rhyme. Shoot me now) walk together, heading outside of the school. His arm is wrapped around her shoulder, and her arm is wrapped around his middle. I have never felt so strong a surge of jealousy and rage, but it dissipated when I see you. You are standing in the opposite end of the hallway, watching the power couple as well. The jealousy leaves but the rage is still there and I stare holes into your back, shaking with suppressed emotion. I am a star and stars don't break down in the middle of crowded school hallways.

I'm hurt.

You turn and lock eyes with me. I hope you can see how hurt I am. I hope you can see how much I hate you right now. With some kind of perverted happiness, I relish the fact that you're the one breaking down. My own vision is horribly blurry and I can't blink because then I would lose it too. I am Rachel Berry. I always win, except with Finn Hudson. Even if we magically get together one day, it'll be because Quinn left him. I'm always second to Quinn. I won't pretend it doesn't tear me apart, because it does. But you... You're last in this. You will always be last because you are Kurt Hummel.

You love him.

I can't say I was completely shocked upon having my epiphany that you were in love with him, too. It was more because I actually thought I could have a friend for once. For a few hours, you were someone who was willing to help me out and get me to feel better about myself. You did that for a little while. But… I will always be the diva that everybody hates. I will always have the most talent, but that comes at a high price. I'll always have the most talent, but I'll always be alone. People hate me because I'm confident about myself. You hate me because I'm me. You hate me because I love him. You love him. She gets him.

You're invisible.

I pointed out to you that day that we were quite similar. I knew you could hit the high F. I heard you practicing before our diva-off. I knew you blew the note, I just didn't know why. I tried breaching the subject when you were at my house, giving me that stupid makeover. You just snorted, shrugged and made me sit up straighter so that you could adjust me some more in your master plan. You know we're similar. I can see it as you stare at me. Your tears are flowing freely and my own defenses are breaking as well. I'm hurt because of Finn, Quinn, and you. You are looking at me like you want to either hit me or hug me or just walk away. I'm not sure what I want you to do.

You're a freak.

You're gay. You're a boy who likes boys. We both know that makes you last, we both know that I'm ahead of you, like I said. I have some hope left because I'm a girl. Finn doesn't do boys. You really are just a freak to me, to everyone. I'm sure there are gay guys in this school. I don't understand why you have to go after the one guy I'm in love with. It sounds childish to myself; I'm acting like Finn is a toy and I just want to keep him to myself when in reality he's not mine. We're sharing the same emotions and I know that makes you angry. You're unique and you pride yourself on that fact. That's why you didn't answer me. You knew we are practically the same person. You can see it now. Our personalities, expressions, and feelings are one. It must make you want to scream because you're not so unique anymore.

You're hurt.

You're just standing there like I am, being jostled by everyone walking by you. I want someone to push you to the ground. I want you to feel like you've made me feel. Crushed. Trampled. Hurt. I don't know how long we've been staring at each other. My eyes are beginning to ache now that I haven't blinked them in a long time. I take a deep breath, blink and raise my hand in a small, weak wave. I feel a tear trickling down my face as I do it. I see you almost flinch and I know what you're thinking. You hurt me and you destroyed my self-confidence. Why am I waving? Why am I attempting to smile?

I hate you.

Because I can't hate you. No matter what I do, no matter what you do, I can't hate you. You know how I feel and that makes me understand you. I'm not like you. You're the terrible person, not me. I only wanted your friendship and you betrayed me without thinking twice.

I hate you.

You wiggle your fingers at me and then take off. I do the same thing, turning on my heel and walking away, away from you, away from him and away from her, away from everything. I always run away. It's my thing. I can almost feel you from across the school. Your footsteps, I like to believe, are in synch with mine. I like to pretend this because I know it's true. You know it too, and I can't help but smirk as the tears begin their cascade down my face

I hate you!

I feel like screaming but I wait until I get home, in the safety of my own room. I bury my face into my pillow and scream out my troubles as to not alarm the neighbors. I am sobbing and crying and am so utterly pathetic that it disgusts me. I'm glad my dads aren't home. I don't think I could stand to let them see me in this state. I bet Finn and Quinn are cuddled up, talking about the baby. I bet they're as happy as can be. I feel like ripping my heart out and just throwing it at the wall because I feel like it would ease the pain. Did Artie go through this much pain when he became crippled? It sure feels like this kind of pain would cripple anyone. His pain was probably worse. At least I'll be able to get up and walk around after this is over. I feel like a terrible person for getting Artie into my thoughts.

Why me?

My cell phone goes off while I'm in the middle of my tantrum. I stop suddenly, grab my phone and answer it.

Why me?

"Yeah?" I wait for the person on the other line to say something. It's obvious I'm upset. Am I still screaming and crying? I hope not.

"Yeah…"

I hate you.

I can't believe you called. What, do you feel the need to torture me some more?

Why me?

"I hate you."

I do. I hate you. So much.

"I know." You've been doing the same thing as me. You've been crying too. I can hear it. We're the same and I knew it.

We're hurt.

There is no more talking after that, but neither of us hangs up the phone. The only sound is our ragged breathing, though that slowly turns into more peaceful breathing as the pain and anger wear away and give way exhausted slumber.

We need each other.

I wake up the next morning and the call still wasn't terminated. I ended it and groan because leaving my phone on all night was the worst thing possible. I hear the doorbell ringing from downstairs and just wait for my fathers to answer it. I almost fall asleep again after some more crying when my door slowly opens. I expect my fathers so I quickly turn on my side and pretend to sleep. Just when I think they're gone, I turn back around, open my eyes, and there you are. Just standing there. Your eyes are red and puffy just like mine and we lock eyes again, just like yesterday. I look down at the metal case in your hand, displaying a variety of makeup and a few CDs crammed in there. I turn my hurt filled, questioning eyes on you and I want to scream at you. You beat me to it.

I hate you.

"You need me." I want to scream even more, but I can find no voice. I throw the covers off of me and stand up. We're in a staring match again and this time you're winning. The tears are running down my cheeks. "We are going to march into school with our heads held high, Berry. We need to do this." I know what you're saying. You're saying we need to be strong and we need to do this together. I don't want to trust you. I want you to get out of my house and never speak to me again.

I hate you.

Instead, I'm wrapped up in your arms and we just stand there, our connection glowing brighter and stronger than ever before because we both know this is okay. We may never be friends, but we're in the same position and no one else will get it.

"I hate you, Kurt Hummel," I mumble into your shoulder as we both begin sob again. We're pathetic. I hate us. You hate us. I'm a diva and you're gay. We're too similar and that's why we need each other right now. We will hate each other tomorrow at school, I'm sure. I just can't bring myself to hate you right now.

I need this.