"So you're telling me…that one day, you're a borderline nun, and then you meet some adorkable guy who wears polo shirts and suspenders and you're head over heels. Q, I know you. And this ain't you."

Santana's all-knowing voice drew a heaving sigh from Quinn. She had sat on a table in the meeting hall, her toned legs crossed before her as she pretty blatantly accused Quinn of lying to her. Sure, she was right, but if she knew, then Puck was bound to find out. Quinn just packed up and stayed mum.

"Hey, magic happens, you know." She smirked with a shrug.

"Mmm, not that kinda magic." Santana shook her head. "Something is up and I'm going to find out what. But, you know, live your life. I won't judge vocally. But we need to talk about how you being the perfect party-planner is definitely going to get me promoted to Editor." She stood and placed her hands on Quinn's shoulders. Her green eyes met the girl's brown, and Quinn gave a small laugh. She was glad to be contributing to Santana's inevitable promotion. She deserved it. Besides, this party was huge for Quinn, too. If it went as planned, her name would be all over Hollywood. Today, she was planning Sweet Sixteens and retirement parties. After the Crave event went well? She'd be rubbing elbows with the likes of every Pitt, Clooney, and DiCaprio in that town.

"You'll have me to thank. And I'd better get an ad in the magazine afterward, complete with a photoshoot that airbrushes out all of my stress-pimples." Quinn teased , planting a kiss on her friend's forehead.

Santana wiped the spot off of her forehead, and scrunched her face up. "Hey, don't get too close, your new boyfriend may get jealous." Just as Quinn was about to retort, Santana's eyes averted to the doorway. "Speaking of…" she smirked. Quinn followed her gaze to find Artie sitting outside of the room, two Starbucks coffees in hand, and a wry smile on his face.

"Coffee run, yo. Sorry, only enough for me and m'lady, Mizz Lopez." He said. Quinn smirked. He was really diving into this fake boyfriend stuff. It hadn't even been two hours since they made their little agreement.

"It's alright." Santana put her hands up in the air, surrendering. "Q usually brings me my coffee anyway. Looks like I have to find another coffee girl." She glared Quinn's way before glancing between the two of them, who were waiting patiently for her to leave. "Alright, I get a goddamn hint." The girl rolled her eyes, gathered her things, and slipped her tiny hips between Artie and the doorway, leaving.

After confirming Santana was gone, Quinn walked up to Artie and plucked the cup he presented her from his hand. "Wow, stepping into these boyfriend duties pretty early. You're good." She smiled.

"Hey, it's just a little 'thank you' for agreeing with my hypocritical ass." He shrugged, turning to follow her out of the door. Quinn held her coffee to her lips and tasted the bite of hazelnut. Her lips pursed, not exactly prepared for anything other than a caramel macchiato.

"Ooh, first rule of being my boyfriend? Learn my coffee order." She shook her head, but kept the coffee. She'd need it to get through her day, even if she hated hazelnut.

Artie sped up so that he was rolling beside her. "So…where are you headed after this? What's your day look like?" Quinn raised a skeptic eyebrow.

"Hey, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you're just using this as an excuse to actually date me." she teased, smacking the boy on the side of the head lightly. "But, if you must know, I've got an appointment with Party City, where I get to spend the next two hours blowing up two-hundred hot pink balloons for Erica Johnson's twenty-first birthday bash because the girl's parents are too cheap to actually pay for the store to blow them up themselves." Her tone was sardonic. She loved what she did, really, but sometimes hated the people she had to deal with.

"Oh! Sounds…fun." Artie suggested. "But I'm sure it would be even more fun with an adorkable guy who wears polo shirts and suspenders." He popped his pair of suspenders, quoting Santana. So he'd been outside the door for longer than he let on. Quinn rolled her eyes. "I mean, we've got to learn a bit about each other if we're going to make this fake-work…And a two-hour job could turn into a one-hour job with twice the bodies." He ran his hands down the sides of his waist, accenting the word "bodies". He was so dumb. All Quinn could do was laugh.

Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn spotted Puck training one of his mini-janitors in the art of mopping floors. She knelt to Artie and caressed his face, making it clear that they were being watched. "Of course you can come with, babe." She smiled, within kissing-distance of the boy. Normal couples would have placed a sweet kiss on each other's lips at this point. Quinn decided against it- things weren't about to get that real. Artie smiled back at her, getting the hint.

Twenty minutes later, they were in the back room of a Party City, left alone with a helium machine and two-hundred balloons. Quinn could have screamed. The two sat in a fairly uncomfortable silence as they took turns stretching latex over the nozzle of the helium machine and blowing up balloons.

"Alright. Tell me about yourself, Mr. Abrams." Quinn suggested, not daring even look him in the eye. "Don't leave out a single detail." She glanced up to find Artie's face twisted with contemplation.

"Well…I was born in Lima, Ohio to two parents. I have an older half-brother and a younger sister. I got in a car accident at age eight, which put me in this thing," he gestured to his chair nonchalantly. Quinn gave a quick look of sympathy, but didn't say anything. "I had a really shitty middle and high school experience, but now I'm twenty-five and in LA while everyone who bullied me waits tables so…Joke's on them." He snarked. "Granted, if this doesn't work out, I'll be waiting tables with them, but…" Artie gave a chuckle, shaking his head.

Quinn gave an approving nod. Nothing really out of the ordinary about him, aside from the car accident. "Cool." She nodded, reverting her attention back to the balloons.

"Oh, no, no, no. Don't think you get off so easy, Mizz Fabray." Artie challenged. Quinn shifted uncomfortably in the cold fold-out chair the store had provided. She should have known. "I need your life story, too."

She picked her words out carefully. "I was born in a small suburb just south of San Francisco. I have one older sister. In high school, I was head cheerleader. I was on top of the world, but then my parents got divorced, my dad remarried, my mom married a drinking problem, and I had to move to LA to escape it all after graduating from UCLA." She smiled morbidly, knowing she left some vital information out. The last time she'd brought the tragedy of Lucy Caboosey up to someone (Puck), she was laughed at and teased.

"Wow. Heavy." Artie commented, with a nod. The room grew silent again, with just the sound of helium being released from its tank. And then, Quinn noticed out of the corner of her eye, the boy lifting a balloon up to his lips.

"What are you-" she began, but he cut her off by deeply inhaling the helium.

"I'm trying to lighten the mood," Artie's high-pitched, distorted voice said. Quinn didn't want to laugh, but it was just so dumb. She had to. A hearty laugh escaped her lips and didn't stop. Artie held the balloon to her face and waved it before her. "Care to join the fun? You know you wanna."

She fought it. Her mind was telling her that this was so stupid and immature, but then again, so was this entire fake relationship. Quinn took the balloon between her fingers and placed it into her mouth, inhaling the helium. "This is so stupid." She said, sounding like someone straight out of Munchkin Land. The two erupted into high-pitched laughter, which only built onto itself and made them crack up even more. The stressful two days seemed to have completely blown over in this one session of continuous laughter. Their voices came down from their (literal) high, yet the two were still gasping for air and grabbing for each other for support.

Quinn's laughter calmed, and she wiped the hilarity-induced tears from her eyes. Artie was still stifling giggles, she could tell, his blue eyes watering from the fun as well, and the corners scrunched around the edges. He had an infectious laugh, and one of those faces that just looked their best when they were smiling. Just as Quinn realized she was getting in too deep analyzing his facial expression, the all-too-familiar ring of her cell phone averted her attention. She reached for it, but Artie snatched it first.

"Give me that!" Quinn gasped, but Artie rolled himself to the other side of the room with her phone. He took in the last bit of helium in the balloon and answered the call.

"Hello, Quinn Fabray's boyfriend speaking. How may I help-" but Quinn was up from her seat and had plucked the iPhone from his hand.

An angry Erica Johnson was on the other end. "Sorry, that was my assistant. He's pretty dumb, I know. I was actually thinking of firing him soon." She shot Artie a glare, but it quickly softened into a knowing smile. The boy smiled back, pearly white teeth bared. She was so distracted by his smile, she barely noticed what Erica had said on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Quinn's brow furrowed.

"I said two-hundred black balloons as well."

Quinn clenched her jaw and fists, trying to avoid going off on the girl. "That will be an extra fifty dollars on your total." She said through her teeth.

"Oh, that's totally fine. Thanks, Quinnie! You're a doll."

Pressing the END button on her iPhone, Quinn plopped back down into her hard, metal chair. To think, her great mood had been ruined that quick by one little phone call. It was stressful, but hey- as a party planner, it was literally her job to deal with annoying, fickle people.

"Two hundred more balloons." She groaned, rubbing her face with her hands, not really caring if she smeared any mascara. Then, with a faux-cheery grin, Quinn added, "But this time, in black." She could see Artie's face droop with sympathy.

"Well, whaddaya say I roll down ta' the Starbucks a few doors down, and bring us back a few more coffees, and we can spend another hour here gettin' busy with the helium." He offered, raising an eyebrow. Quinn pouted to the guy- he was being far too nice.

"You'd do that?" she asked, half-amazed, half-nearly-begging.

Artie gave a small shrug. "I'll put it on your tab." He teased, before leaving the room. Quinn only smiled to herself, biting her lip. He was a really good guy. This could be the start of something good- a really nice friendship. After knocking a blown-up balloon with her elbow, Quinn watched as it untied from its weight and floated up to the ceiling. She kept her eyes above her and closed them, letting her neck slacken and her body go limp in her chair.