AN- This is my first Glee fic. I'm thrilled so many of you are reading!

"Mercedes, wait," Rachel called. Glee had just ended, and everyone else had already left the choir room. I sighed, but tried to smile. She's been less crazy lately, so I try to be patient with her.

"Yeah, Rachel?"

"I must share a concern with you. Something has been bothering me, and my therapist says I'll only be able to work through it once I discuss it with you."

"With me? Maybe you need a better shrink, Rachel." So much for patience. I turned to leave.

"Am I turning you into Kelly?"

I froze and turned to look at her. "Are you what?"

"At the beginning of the semester, you proclaimed that you were Beyonce, not Kelly Rowland. Yet at sectionals, you said I was better and gave up the ballad."

"Don't you think you're better?"

"Of course," she said. I laughed, because that was classic Rachel Berry. "But I thought…well, I thought you believed you were better, too, Mercedes. I thought you were like me. I'm sorry."

"For what? For thinking I was anything like you?" I asked. She winced, and I kind of felt bad.

"No, for talking to you the way I did. I've learned that when I discuss my talent, I have to be careful not to hurt people who lack confidence in their abilities. It could be detrimental to their artistic development, not to mention damaging to the glee club as a whole. That's why I always make it clear that my superior singing is not merely genetic, but the result of years of physical, mental and emotional preparation, as well as meticulous training. However, I didn't realize you lacked confidence, so at times I have been communicating with you inappropriately. I thought we were advocating ourselves as…"

"Divas?" I guessed.

"Precisely. But I guess we weren't, in which case, some of what I said to you was quite mean. Context is crucial."

It took me a minute to sort through what she was saying: all the times Rachel claimed her singing was better, she was treating me as an equal. Somehow, things had gotten messed up, though. I'd started to actually believe her.

"I'm going to hug you now," I said, imitating her. Rachel giggled as I embraced her. "Girl, you weren't wrong. We were talking diva-to-diva. I just got lost for a minute. Don't worry, Rachel. The bitch is back."

She gave me that big, Julia Roberts smile, then turned and walked away. "Good," she called over her shoulder. "I look forward to beating you for the next solo."

"Dream on, Crazy!"

AN- Please drop a quick review. Although this is my story with the most reads per day, it's not getting many comments. Do you like it, or should I stop doing the chapters from different people's POVs and switch to a third-person narrator? Let me know.