As Quinn Fabray stared at the piece of paper in her palm, she mentally debated whether or not to make the call. The paper had a phone number written on it; the phone number of Rachel Berry.
During the girls encounter just a week before, they had exchanged numbers. Quinn didn't know it was that simple to get a phone number out of someone, especially a past enemy.
Three dials and instant hang-ups later, Quinn had found the courage to stay on the phone longer than five seconds.
"Hello?" A cheerful voice rang into the blonde's ear, and she heard what sounded like a party in the background.
"Hi, Rachel. It's Quinn. Uh, if you're out or something, we can just talk la—"
"Oh! No, just wait a second." Quinn heard the faint sound of a door closing, and the noise dialed down. "Alright, I'm okay now. How are you?"
"Just fine. But really, Rachel, if you're busy, I can call sometime later."
"No, no, no. You see, a friend from college invited me to a party at her apartment. It was all lovely until the alcohol absorbed into every single person here. I tried calming the drinkers down by singing a several very, high notes, but they wouldn't listen! It's terrible." Rachel spoke quickly, and Quinn managed to hide a chuckle. Of course Rachel would do that.
The blonde thought for a moment. "Do you need someone to pick you up? I mean, I don't have a car myself, but I can get a cab."
"Oh, Quinn, that would be great! Thank you so much!" She told Quinn the address of the party and that she would be waiting outside.
Twenty minutes later, a cab was parked outside of the party home. Quinn peered out of the window, but Rachel was nowhere to be found outside. The blonde told the driver to wait a moment, and walked through the open front door.
The place was crashed. People were everywhere, dancing to extremely loud and upbeat music. There had to be at least one hundred of them—maybe even more.
Quinn pushed through the crowd and fell into something that felt like a body. She turned around to find a man about her age, who was wearing baggy jeans so low, you could see his boxers. He had quite a large built, too. Quinn had a bad feeling about him.
The man turned to examine the blonde up and down. By his expression, she could tell he was drunk, and very attracted to Quinn. He leaned in closer to her and whispered quite a few dirty remarks. Quinn tried backing away, but he was advancing on her.
Out of nowhere, Rachel Berry appeared in the space between the two. The diva raised her hand, and slapped the drunken man silly. Before he could react, Rachel grabbed the blonde's wrist and stalked out of the party home.
It was silent the whole cab ride. Quinn was shocked by Rachel's attitude, but did not want to question her just yet. When Rachel invited her into her apartment, she complied. But as soon as they stepped inside, Quinn was shooting questions at Rachel like bullets.
"How did you find me? Why did you slap him? How did you—"
"Sshh! Calm down, Quinn. I came out of the bathroom, which was right next to the area you were in, and saw that man eyeing you. He could have hurt you, so I merely defended you."
"Did you just 'sshh' me, Rachel Berry?" Quinn put on her best look of shock, which wasn't very convincing at all.
A confused Rachel stood silent for a moment, before finally bursting with laughter. The blonde grinned, amused at the reaction her joke had. After Rachel calmed down, they sat for a while and talked about their current lives.
"I'm involved with a new off-Broadway show, but with the developing popularity of the show, it may soon become set on Broadway itself! The premiere is tomorrow night." Rachel glowed with excitement as she recapped the plot of the show.
The story takes place in 2012, the current year, and tells of a young woman named Clarice (Rachel), who was the happiest person you could meet. No matter how rough the situation, Clarice would always stay positive. She meets Maurice, an attractive and wealthy man who seduces her with his charming personality. They start dating, and Clarice seems to be as happy as usual, but her best friend Mark notices something is wrong, and finds out her secret—that Maurice is abusing Clarice.
"You know, I have a free ticket, and all of my friends have already bought tickets of their own. Just in case you have nothing to do. . .come."
Rachel handed the blonde the ticket, set for eight o'clock the next day. Maybe Quinn would go.
"Now, tell me about your life."
Quinn blinked. She herself didn't truly know what was currently happening in her life—and she sure as hell had no plans for the future. It was a sad feeling, being the only one without something to be involved in, Quinn thought. Rachel had her busy life, most students from McKinley were in college, and everyone surrounding her in New York had somewhere to go. Quinn didn't.
"I got a new apartment in Manhattan, as you know. And now I'm here." The blonde didn't have anything else to add; that was all that made up her current life, in short.
"Are you employed anywhere? Maybe a boyfriend?" Rachel knew Quinn wasn't employed, and she knew that Quinn wasn't attending a college, either. But she did not know for sure if the blonde was in a relationship. She made a mental note to look out for any "Help Wanted" signs, for Quinn's sake.
Biting on her lower lip, Quinn shook her head. The diva tried changing the subject to lighter matters, which made everything even more awkward for Quinn. She knew that her life wasn't as exciting as Rachel's, or anyone for that matter. She was embarrassed due to that.
Obviously, Quinn did not have a boyfriend. She did not need a boyfriend, nor did she want one. The blonde found out shortly after Puck knocked her up that she did not like men. Yet she had no experience with women, so how had she known for sure she was gay?
Quinn was attracted to women, she could admit that now. In high school, she had thought this attraction was a feeling of envy at the beauty of these pretty girls. But why would Quinn Fabray, head Cheerio and hot blonde be jealous of someone?
And how would the school react to her coming out? Quinn's popularity level went from one hundred to zero after she was kicked off the Cheerios for being pregnant, how could being gay bring her back up on the social scale?
This was why Quinn Fabray didn't have a boyfriend. This was a quarter of the reason Quinn Fabray was alone.
"I think I should be getting home now; it's late, and you have a big day tomorrow." Quinn smiled. Rachel looked nice in her yellow party dress. It was short, but not too short. She had clearly thought the party was much like a child's birthday party—or at least, she dressed like it was.
Quinn looked up from the dress to find Rachel standing inches apart from her. A second later, Rachel was squeezing Quinn into a hug so tight, she couldn't breathe.
"Rachel—" The brunette pulled away so Quinn could see her face. Her face wore such a sad expression; Quinn wanted to pull her back into a hug and tell her everything is alright. But what wasn't alright?
"I'm sorry for that. I'm just glad to have seen you." She smiled widely, and Quinn cracked a smile back at her. The blonde had not been around anyone in years who was truly glad to see her.
The two girls walked outside, and waved down a cab for Quinn. She tripped off the curb, mentally cursed herself, and left Rachel's apartment.
The next day, Quinn awoke with a bad headache, and cramps. She fell out of her bed—or really, a mattress on the floor—and went through the rest of the morning clumsily and quite painfully. Ever since she quit the Cheerios, she developed a slight clumsiness that grew even more over the years.
The day was uneventful. Quinn, while eating out of an old Chinese take-out box, remembered Rachel Berry. She remembered last night when they. . .bonded? Whatever it was called that they did, Quinn had liked it. The blonde also remembered that Rachel had given her a free ticket to an off-Broadway show she was starring in.
Quinn choked on her rice. The show started at eight, and it was already six- thirty. She threw the food-filled box down, ran to her bedroom, and looked inside her closet.
The clothing Quinn owned was all from her last two years in high school, and that was mainly girly dresses and cardigans. But what would one wear to an off-Broadway show? She knew you had to look fancy, for one.
She looked through her closet for twenty minutes before finally choosing a dress. It was the dress she had worn at Sectionals in her first year of Glee club. Quinn hoped this would work.
Her hair curled, makeup set, and dress on, Quinn ran out of the apartment building. It was seven-forty now. She felt the goosebumps on her arms; why hadn't she thought of bringing a coat?
The blonde jumped inside of a taxi that was just about to take off. She ignored the complaints of the two passengers next to her, and all but yelled at the driver to drive her first.
"Listen, I have a off-Broadway show to go see! In twenty minutes! They can wait!"
"Ma'am, they were here first, therefore—"
"They don't have a theatre show to go see, starring their only friend! They didn't rush to get ready for this theatre show, now did they?" Quinn's face was red from yelling by now. She was about to drive the cab herself.
The cab driver noticed her rage, and asked for the address of the show. Quinn said quiet yes, and gave him the information.
Quinn arrived at the show twenty five minutes later, but only because she jumped to the passenger seat of the cab to honk at every single person in front of her until they moved out of her way. Irritated with the rush, she threw the ticket into the doorman's face and ran to take her front-row seat.
The first act had just started. Perfect timing.
Two hours later, the show was over. It was amazing. Rachel did an outstanding job as Clarice. She nailed every song, and never forgot a line. Of course, Quinn had expected nothing other than a perfect performance.
Quinn waited until everyone cleared out of the theatre, until finally seeing an ecstatic Rachel Berry walking through the doors.
"R-Rachel! Over here!" As silly as it was, Quinn waved up and down to get Rachel's attention. The diva turned, and ran to the blonde as fast as she could before pulling them into the second hug they shared in twenty-four hours.
"Quinn! Oh, you came! Did you like it? How was I? Did I miss a note or line—"
Quinn laughed; she could help it. This was the first time she had seen Rachel Berry nervous. "You were perfect, Rachel."
Rachel turned to face a journalist reviewing the show. The blonde hoped the journalist gave the show a good review. It deserved a good review.
She walked a few yards away to give them privacy, but also eavesdrop on what they were saying. The journalist jotted things down frantically on a sticky-note as Rachel answered his questions. It was hard to catch what he was asking her without looking nosy.
"What was it liked to work with mumble mumble?"
"Oh, he's absolutely lovely! He's an amazing mumble, with incredible mumble mumble."
"You're new to performing on a real stage—how does it feel?"
"It's been so mumble mumble. Actually, I've mumble mumble mumble mumble. It's been such a great experience for mumble mumble, I can't wait for the rest of it!
The questions went on until the journalist was on his seventh sticky-note. Quinn basically ran into Rachel, curious as to what had happened.
"Oh, he just asked me questions, as I am sure you've heard. You're very nosy, Quinn." The brunette grinned playfully. Quinn shook her head, yet was grinning as well.
"I think I'll go now. You should go, too, Rachel. You need some sleep after that." Honestly, Quinn was tired. And if she was tired, so was the diva.
Quinn turned to walk away, but Rachel had caught her arm.
"Quinn, before you go. . .I just wanted to say thank you. For coming. I lied last night, when I said all my friends were coming. I have very little friends there. Everyone at NYADA is just. . .unlikeable." Rachel nodded once and let go of Quinn's arm.
The blonde felt an instant pity for Rachel. The diva was not the most likeable girl at McKinley, and the only friends she had were ones in Glee club, and even some of them hated Rachel. Here Rachel Berry was in college, and she still was friendless.
Quinn realized at that moment she and Rachel had similar personal lives. They might have been different career wise, talent wise, appearance wise. . .but they were both alone in the world. They were each other's only friends.
She gave Rachel a small smile, trying to let her know she understood. At that, Quinn walked out of the theatre and went home.
A/N: Wooooow, it's been a long time. Two weeks? And this is only the second chapter. I've been dying to update this through all of the stress of school, but it didn't work out. Yay for updating now, though! I would like to thank the overwhelming amount of author alerts and story alerts I've received on just the first chapter. Thank you so much! I hope I don't disappoint.