Disclaimer: Glee and its characters belong to where it legally belongs, i.e. not me.
Chapter Two: Hell Hath No Fury
A shrill sound reached her ears, effectively waking her up from her slumber. Eyes still closed, she reached out to her right and blindingly slammed her hand to halt the infernal device.
The alarm clock is an old-school one, courtesy of her mother. She would've been perfectly fine with a digital one - or even her iPhone, for christ's sake - but Judy vehemently insisted that old-school is always effective.
Quinn doesn't get that logic. If it is so effective, then why do most people opted for the new-age, digital ones?
The answer is always a smile and a "Mom knows best, sweetie" answer, and she would just roll her eyes at that: Mom do knows best, so she just chose to endure every morning wondering if her ears are bleeding in protest.
Well, at least it does its job; every morning, she couldn't wait to wake up just to smash the noisy menace, imagining that it's the last time it'll incur its wrath of shrillness.
Haphazardly throwing her covers, she sat on her bed with eyes still closed. She yawned, trying to fight off sleep. She's not really the kind to just sit in bed, gauging herself if she is ready to take a shower without falling sleep in the middle of shampooing; no, she is just so goddamn tired for running suicides while keeping the freshman recruits in line.
Keep them in their frightened toes, Goldilocks. That way, they would be battle ready anytime, anywhere, Coach Sylvester always says. Although she's finding it difficult to correlate the importance of terrorizing to cheerleading, she always just nod and comply.
Team captains always listens to their coaches, especially their seventh time, award-winning cheerleading coaches.
A few minutes went by when she felt that she's finally ready. Swinging her legs, her dainty feet touched the ground. She stood up - her eyes partially closed - and proceed to feel her way towards her bathroom. It wasn't as difficult as it seems; living her whole life in the fairly large house, she can feel her way through blackouts with ease.
The moment that her feet touched the cold tiles, she blindly closed the door before peeling off her jammies. With a yawn, she padded her naked self towards the shower and stepped inside. She locked the glass door - a habit she maintains since watching a slasher flick about a girl getting murdered in the shower - and then turned the shower head on.
With the warm water trickling down her body, she sighed in relief - she loves hot showers - before feeling her way through a vast selection of shampoo and conditioner. She picked one bottle, sniffed it, and proceed to lather her medium-length hair.
She started to hum - a habit she picked up from she-who-must-not-be-named - a simple tune under her breath as the scent of strawberry wafted inside the enclosed space. She kept her eyes closed all throughout, just enjoying the warmth, that she didn't notice that something is amiss.
Thirty minutes later, she finally emerged from the shower - a thick cloud of sauna-like smoke billowed from the inside like those special effects in a rock concert - squeaky clean and fruity-scented. Fully awake, she reached out for her fluffy, bathrobe, not looking back to the shower she just left.
If she only spared a glance, she'll see the red-tinted water covering the shower floor.
Singing softly under her breath - a habit she definitely picked up from she-who-must-not-be-named but won't admit - she then proceed to pick up another towel and dried her hair. She was busy wondering what her mom would be serving at breakfast that she didn't notice that her white, fluffy towel is tinted with pink.
She discarded the towel on a nearby hamper - still not looking - and walked to her vanity area. Thinking of the grueling practice later after school, she sighed as she padded towards a cabinet. She picked up her blow drier, humming, and plugged in on the nearby socket.
Now in front of her vanity corner, she looked up and paused. Eyebrows furrowed, she rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, not entirely sure of what she is seeing.
She rubbed again.
Again for the third time.
When she's fairly sure that the reflection is indeed her own, she started feeling anger bubbling within her. A scream is starting to work its way and Quinn could feel it rumbling inside her chest, clawing to get away.
Hazel eyes blazing, she furiously unplugged her blow drier - probably ruining the poor thing in the process, but that's irrelevant for now - and stomped her way out of the bathroom. Motivated by anger, she didn't stop until she's now outside her room.
With her naked, slightly wet - but definitely flushed - body covered with fluffy bathrobe and now-pink, wet hair, she stomped through the hallway before stopping at the top of the stairs.
"I AM GONNA KILL YOU CHARLIE!" she bellowed, her angry voice filling the hallway. Her face is contorted with fury, decorated with doodles done in black sharpie.
Judy Fabray is busy cooking a variety of breakfast: eggs and extra bacon for Charlotte, toasts and extra bacon for Quinn, pancakes and extra bacon for Russell, and a big bowl of salad to stave off some of the future heart complications that she knows this family will eventually succumb into.
She long gave up her hopes for her family to embrace healthy living. When she was younger, she's an avid fan of vegetarian options in her diet. Although she can never give up meat, she always make sure to at least have a balanced diet.
But when the kids came into her life, Russell somehow passed his "addiction" to them. Her husband - a man so childish that she's wondering if she's raising three teenagers instead of just two - insists that it's a normal diet.
She always roll her eyes at that; three against one is never a fair fight.
Sighing, she just plated the rest of bacon and waited for her family with a coffee in one hand.
Her coffee is almost done when her youngest came bouncing down the stairs. She is wearing tight pants and a pink shirt with a print saying 'save the Shrödinger's cat'. A pair of chucks completes the look.
"Morning, Mom!" the younger blonde chirped, picking up a strip of bacon to munched on. Her long, blonde tresses is surprisingly not in a ponytail - vanity is a disease suffered by most brain-dead teenagers, Mom, Judy remembers her saying when she once asked - and was down, slightly curled halfway.
"Morning, honey. Go sit down."
The younger blonde shook her head, the thin-framed glasses getting skewed with the movement. "I have to go to school now."
Judy raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at that. "It's still too early."
"I have some projects in need of finishing," the younger blonde reasoned before picking another grease-covered, heart-attack inducing strip. "It's a CCTV that's hooked on the stop lights. It'll be automatically activated when someone broke the traffic rule and..."
The older blonde chuckled, listening to her inventor of a child prattle on about her newest, government-funded invention. It still amazed her how a simple set of parents - she's a nurse and Russell is a lawyer - were graced with a child of such astounding high IQ.
It wasn't only Charlotte, though. Her oldest is also a talented one, blessed with a natural aptitude for complicated, gymnastic movements that's responsible for making her the Cheerleading Captain of William McKinley High.
"...and then I'm going to hang with Alexis and Jacob after school. Is that okay?"
The older blonde just nodded. "Okay, honey. Just be careful."
With a nod and a smile, the younger blonde kissed the older blonde's cheek before skipping towards the door. "Bye Mo-"
"I AM GONNA KILL YOU CHARLIE!"
Two blonde heads whipped towards the stairs: one curious and one wide-eyed. Judy turned her attention to her younger child and saw her fumbling to open the door.
"Bye Mom!"
"Charlotte!"
The door was slammed closed, leaving Judy with a sense of something akin to migraine.
Here we go again... she thought - fingers massaging her temples - as she think of ways to calm her other daughter down.
She just hopes that it wouldn't escalate into a physical fight, just like last month.
"Hey, Charlie."
"Hey, Jake. The eagle has furiously landed. Go drive."
The boy chuckled, his boyishly good-looks enhanced by his toothy smile. "Mission accomplished?"
Light blue eyes twinkled as she remembered last night's mission. "Of course," she said, a mischievous smile surfacing when she remembered the shouting. "I'm always thorough, you know that."
The boy laughed before a smirk - the trademark Puckerman smirk - showed. "I need my bag back, though."
Charlie rolled her eyes at that. "I'll give it to you tomorrow. Now c'mon, we need to pick up Alexis."
"Of course. Let's go pick up the girlfriend."
The blonde punched the chuckling boy hard on his muscled arm, although she didn't confirm nor deny anything. As the car roared to life, she looked back to her house, curious.
Her eyes found the open window and saw Quinnie, her hair colored with pink - just like she planned - and her face covered with black smudges. She is shouting, fury apparent in her expression, and Judy seems to be trying to calm her down. Charlie could imagine - perfectly, in fact - the words that are spouting from her sister.
She giggled as the car maneuvered into the highway.
What will happen later? she wondered as the car drove off to pick up Alexis Lopez. She stared at the car window as Jake Puckerman turned on his stereo, thinking of ways to hide from the Cheerios later.
To be continued...
A/N: Bored with my other fic so I added another chapter here. :D
Comments, criticisms, suggestions, and even violent reactions are welcome. Go crazy, mate. :)