"Okay, the reason I seek counsel from you three who I consider to be my dearest, closest friends," Rachel stood in front of you as you all sat on Brittany and Santana's bed. You were laying between them and Brittany was playing with your hair while Santana glares at you and Rachel for interrupting what seemed to be an early afternoon delight.
"I am going to break up with David. We've plateaued. And the feelings for him I have are not strong enough to continue," she states. You mentally high five yourself. You're close to giving yourself a physical self five. You decide that since she's still talking you should probably listen. Rachel's pacing in front of the bed, "As you know, or as Quinn knows, I'm singing at a benefit concert Friday night for…"
"Doctors Without Borders," you tell her. You giggle. She's lucky that she has the money to hire all kinds of people to tell her where to be and why she's there.
"Oh yeah," she nods, "Anyway, it's like the Broadway equivalent of auditioning to sing at the Tony Awards in a few weeks. Since it is like auditioning, I need a date to the benefit. David is the perfect date to such a thing. He looks good in a tux and knows how to talk to reporters."
"But you want us to tell you that it's okay to take him on Friday and then dump his ass the next day," Santana finishes for her, getting more directly to the point.
Rachel stops her pacing and wrings her hands, her eyes bouncing between the three of you, "Is that horrible?"
"Totally," Brittany states.
Santana shrugs, "Eh." That earns her a disapproving look from Brittany over your head.
"Quinn?" Rachel asks quietly.
You can think of all kinds of reasons why it's wrong. You want to dump him immediately. You're ready to drive her to his apartment so she can do it now. But you know if you tell her to dump him now that she probably will and that's what's best for you, not necessarily for her. So you quirk an eyebrow, "You shouldn't ask me if you should break up with your boyfriend."
"I suppose not," she offers you a small smile before continuing. "I think that I'm going to have to differ to Brittany on this. No offense Santana."
"Eh," Santana shrugs again. She's not interested in this conversation in the least. She's humoring Rachel because of Brittany.
"Okay so," Rachel takes a deep breath, "I need a date to the benefit. Photogenic and articulate."
You mentally scan all the guys you know and let out a smile, "I know just the person."
She eyes you suspiciously, "Quinn, honey, I love you but-"
"I don't mean me," you playfully roll your eyes, ignoring the small sting her statement gives you, "It's a guy smarty pants."
"It's not like a totally horrible guy so she'll realize that you're the one for her," Brittany asks you with raised eyebrows. She gets off of the bed and her eyes scan the loose articles of clothing on the floor.
"You've been watching a lot of Kate Hudson movies haven't you?" you turn to Rachel and Santana who still look skeptical, "Hey guys, dating now. A super nice guy and I have a super nice guy for you if you'll stop being paranoid that I'm going to try to seduce you. And I'll have you know that if I did, it would be the best night...and next day of your life."
Her eyes gleam in the sunlight as she laughs and you love her a little bit more for it. The fact that she's not put off when you make a joke about sleeping with her is reassuring.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Brittany sheds her shirt and steps into the closet, "The Tony's are totally boring."
You're a little nervous that Rachel's about to be offended, but she calmly shrugs and says, "Sure they are on TV, but being there-"
"No half pint," Santana interrupts her, "She went last year."
"You did?" Rachel asks in complete disbelief, as Brittany steps out of the closet in a shirt that you're sure is Santana's.
"I just met the producer for my show and he told me I needed to go," she shrugs and looks at herself in the mirror. Vintage Sex Pistol concert shirts may not be Brittany's usual style, but she can rock it. She unabashedly lifts it to her nose to smell the collar and let's out a content sigh as she let's go and it drops around her neck.
Rachel looks at Santana, "Did you go?"
"Nope," Santana shook her head, "She took her boyfriend."
"Don't be mad S. We weren't together yet, but you're going this year," Brittany adds, flopping down on the bed next to Santana.
Santana nods and rolls on her side so that Brittany can snuggle into her easier. "I already have my dress and everything."
"Q!" Brittany looks at you with the most excited look on her face, "You can come with us! I can get an extra ticket. It'll be so much fun!"
You glance at Rachel who still looks a little jealous. She thoughtfully narrows her eyes at Brittany, "Are you nominated?"
"No. My show won't be ready until next season," Brittany let's out a carefree shrug. She gives Santana a quick kiss before jumping up off of the bed, "I'm going to call Thomas and see if he has an extra ticket." She glances at you, "Then we have find time to get you a dress."
You open your mouth to tell her that you'd rather just watch it on TV with a huge pizza and a gallon of ice cream because it's the first time Rachel's been out of the house for a whole night, but the elated look on her face stops you. You smile for her and nod, "Awesome."
Brittany claps and exits the room her phone in hand.
"I'm glad you're going Q," Santana sighs, "We can both gag while Britt and Rachel schmooze." She stretches out on the bed and arches her back.
"Santana," Rachel puts her hands on her hips, "Did you know that Quinn's birthday passed a few weeks ago, while she lived here and she didn't tell us?"
Santana propped her head up on the pillow next to you, "Really Q? I knew it was your birthday. I figured I just got it mixed up with one of B's gazillion cousins."
"I didn't want to make a big deal," you defend yourself weakly, "I just moved here and I wanted to keep it quiet."
"So she listened to me complain about my cast for a hour before I decided to go to bed," Rachel states, plopping down on the bed next to you. She automatically moves closer to you and you bend to accommodate her.
"That's not what happened," you quietly add, "You were talking about how you could never be in Cats because you're afraid they'd do something weird and coincidentally permanent to your hair. Then we talked about Hair the musical and then you told me that you'd rather die than be in a musical that was based on a movie."
"What a rousing birthday," Rachel frowns and looks up at you, "I'm still mad at you."
You smile at her attempt to look mad at you and bite your lip to keep from kissing her. So you distract her and yourself by turning to Santana, "Speaking of cats…"
She groans and buries her face in a pillow, "I've been looking. I really want to pick the right one, but I don't want to have to house train the stupid thing. All the smart ones are ugly and all the pretty ones are stupid. It's like Sweet Valley High for cats."
You and Rachel laugh. Badass med student Santana is stressing over finding the perfect cat for her girlfriend. She also just referenced a fifteen-year-old series, which you think you saw sitting in DVD version next to the couch in the living room.
"Anyway," Rachel looks pointedly at you before shifting her eyes to Santana, "We're going out before the benefit Friday to celebrate Quinn's birthday."
"I'm dzown," Santana answers, "That benefit thing is going to be boooring. I might as well be drunk."
"You're going to that too?" Rachel asks. You can tell she's jealous. She's dreamed of these events for years. And Santana was bitching because Brittany was dragging her to another one.
You take Rachel's hand and catch her eyes. You seem to be able to convey that you understand what she's upset about. She displays a soft smile before closing her eyes and resting her forehead on your shoulder.
They way you've grown comfortable with each other drives the knives of disappointment further into your heart. She'll cuddle with you and hold your hand without ever really being yours. And you're about to set her up with one of your coworkers. It feels so wrong, but what other choices do you have?
Brittany walks back in with a smile on her face and hops up onto the bed, standing over you and Santana, "We're so on for the Tony's."
After setting some time aside for dress shopping, you and Rachel set off for the theatre. She has a show to do and afterwards she's going to break up with him. She asks you to pick her up afterwards which is odd because she's usually content to catch a ride from someone else or take a cab. But you can never deny her so you promise that you'll be there as soon as the show gets out.
You go home for a while, trying to get the apartment back to it's original, pre-parents state. You fold up the couch and change all the sheets on both of your beds. As you're putting new sheets on her bed, you get frustrated with the fitted sheet that keeps popping off on different corners. You finally, with a frustrated huff, fall onto the bed face first and just lay there.
You've laid in her bed before, but this time you're alone and surrounded by her smell. You let it overtake you as tears gather in your eyes. It's not fair. You're dating a really nice guy who you really wish you were in love with, but you're not. You're in love with her.
When you realize what time it was, you get angry with yourself for breaking down. You wash your face and grab your keys. You need to go pick up Rachel.
You pull up to the back of the theatre and she's standing there, waiting for you. She looks depressed and it breaks your heart. As soon as she get into the car and is buckled up, you take off. After a few minutes of silence, you put your hand on top of hers that is resting on the middle console between you, "Rach, what's wrong?"
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her look at you before removing her hand from yours, "It's nothing."
"Did you break up with him?" you ask, parking on the street in front of your apartment. You finally look fully at her.
She purposefully nods and gets out of the car without another word. You follow her into the elevator and wonder what's wrong with her. If David did this to her, you'll strangle him.
Once inside your apartment, you grab her hand to stop her from walking straight into her room, "Rachel." She turns to face you with a deeply thoughtful look in her eyes, "What's wrong? Did he say something?"
She once again extracts her hand from yours, "He just…" She deeply sighs, "He said –told me…" Her eyes drop to the floor before tentatively looking at you, "That I…" She gives up and sighs, avoiding looking at you, "Never mind. I'm just going to bed."
"Was he mean?" you ask. You have to know. You can see that's it's painful for her right now, but if he was mean to her you're going to do something about it.
She forces a smile, "No he wasn't. He just made me think about some things." She bites her lip before adding, "I'm just going to go to bed."
You figure she'll be in a better, more talkative mood tomorrow after some rest. You nod, "Okay. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she mumbles and makes her way to her bedroom, closing the door. She totally forgot your usual goodnight hug. Something is really off with her and it worries you all night.
So when you get up the next morning, you're exhausted, but you quickly make your way to the kitchen to start the morning coffee. When she doesn't come out of her room by seven thirty you get ready for work. You make her some breakfast and set it on the table. You leave her coffee mug next to the coffee machine for her to use when she wakes.
You walk to her bedroom door and listen for any movements. When you don't hear anything you let out a long sigh. You really hope she's okay. You've never really seen her this down. So you leave her a note on the refrigerator and make your way to your first appointment of the day.
Your day drags on and on and on. You never really get the chance to call Rachel before she has to be at the theatre so when you get home, you stay awake until she gets home.
When you hear the front door open, you stand up and meet her in the kitchen. She looks exhausted as she rummages in the refrigerator, not even noticing you.
"I got take out," you quietly state, not wanting to scare her, "It's in the oven."
She turns and looks at you. You don't know what's wrong with her, but she just stares at you. You can't even tell what's wrong with her. You don't know if she's mad or sad or just tired so you make your way over to her. That sends her moving in the opposite direction. She opens the stove and retrieves her dinner. "Thanks." Her voice is so soft you can barely hear it. She walks out of the kitchen and into her room, closing the door behind her.
You have to follow her. You have to know what's going on because it's killing you. You knock on her door, something that's so strange to you because she never closes it.
"C'min."
You open the door and find her sitting on her bed with the open box in her hand, not really eating it. You move into her room and sit on the bed, but not too close to her because it seems she's been trying to stay away from you, "Rachel, what happened? I'm really worried about you."
She sets her chopsticks in the white box and place it on the nightstand, "I'm sorry Quinn. I just…he made me think about…" She huffs, giving up on what she's saying, "I don't want to talk about it. I'm just really tired okay?"
You take the hint and stand up, "When you want to talk about it, you know where I am okay?"
She looks up at you with a pained smile on her face, "Thanks Quinn."
The next day isn't any better. You get away on your lunch break to go home and pick up her favorite lunch on the way home. When you find her, she's watching some old movie that you've never seen before so you sit next to her and hand her the food before settling back into the couch. You move your arm like you always do so that she can cuddle into your side. However, she stays curled up on her side of the couch, absently eating her food and staring at the TV.
You give up on trying to get her to talk, knowing that she won't open up before she's ready. So you go back to work, ending your day by watching another movie with her while she's sitting on the other end of the couch. At least this time she asked if you wanted to watch it with her. This goes one for the next two days. You've taken to reading in your room because it's starting to frustrate you that she won't talk or even let you touch her and you want to give her some space. You're starting to think that it's you and not David that's upsetting Rachel. It hurts to think that.