~Author's Note: First of all, thank you all so much for the reviews, you're all so sweet and I really appreciate it. Second, Sorry for the late update, I've been super distracted and busy lately, so thank you again for your patience. Here's chapter 3, Enjoy!~

Chapter 3

Quinn spent most of the remainder of their date explaining to Émile just who Rachel was, and why her name elicited such a strong reaction from her. Of course, she carefully avoided the part about being unconditionally in love with her, until the end of time. Overall, Émile seemed content with the explanation Quinn gave; they were best friends in high school and she had never expected to see Rachel again after graduation, because they had a falling out of some sort. Émile returned to finishing his expensive meal, and urged Quinn to do the same, but she felt terribly nauseous.

Rachel. Coming here, where I live. I am going to see Rachel again.She could barely even form full thoughts anymore. Her mind had seemingly imploded, now completely empty of anything other than Rachel Berry. Eventually, her blind stupor became a state of full-blown panic. The image of her 18 year old self, sobbing on the floor of the train station came into view. Quinn's heart ached at the thought of the train pulling away from the platform and out of the station, carrying with it the only person she ever let herself care about.

Émile was finished his meal, and waved the waitress over to get the bill. While she stood beside their table and waited for Émile to count out a proper tip, she stared at Quinn, eyes full of desire. But Quinn was in another world. She was remembering everything, the good and the bad, for the first time in years. It was unbearable. Overwhelming. Amazing.

The waitress thanked Émile for his generous tip, and left them alone. After a moment, Émile reached out for Quinn's hand and the two of them left the restaurant.

Late in the night, Quinn was laying in bed, unable to sleep. Émile was snoring softly next to her, so, knowing she wouldn't wake him, she got up and went to their kitchen. Her emotions were still making her stomach turn, so she poured herself a glass of water to help calm her nausea. It was dark in their apartment, but the soft moonlight from their kitchen window allowed Quinn to see. From the kitchen table, Quinn could faintly make out her reflection in the mirror hanging in their hallway. Since her youth, Quinn had never liked looking at herself. This stemmed from years of torment in the form of cruel nicknames given to her by her peers. Even now, holding eye contact with herself was one of the hardest things to do. Today, however, she stared for several minutes. Her face was hard as she stared herself down, unblinking. I'm older now... I've changed. She thought. I'm not a little girl anymore. This was certainly true. Quinn was still youthful and beautiful of course, but she definitely looked older. She wasn't small and helpless anymore, like she was when she broke down that day in the train station. What if it was different this time?

This thought was enough to set Quinn in motion. She got up and, dragging her chair behind her, she started toward the small hall closet. She opened the door and then stood on the chair, reaching up into the darkness above her head. She felt around with her hands until she found an old shoebox. Bringing the box back to the kitchen table, she braced herself for what she was about to see. She motioned to open the box, but hesitated. She was afraid to look.

"Just open it, you coward." She snapped at herself. She took a deep breath and pulled the lid off the box. On the top of a small pile of pages and various objects was a hospital bracelet and a picture of a small blonde girl who was smiling up at the photographer, who Quinn knew was Puck. On the back of the photo was written Beth, August 2012. Quinn smiled sadly. Beth was such a beautiful, happy little girl. Quinn realized a long time ago that giving her up with ultimately the best thing to do, not just for Beth, but for herself as well. There were no hard feelings there anymore. Of course she missed her sometimes, but she knew that Beth was happy, and in good hands with Shelby. So, she placed the hospital bracelet and the photo of her daughter beside the box, and continued flipping through memories of her past. In the box, she found a first place ribbon from their nationals competition, sheet music for the many performances she did with the New Directions, her senior prom picture, the yearbook of her final year at McKinley, and many other things that filled her heart with different emotions. Finally, at the bottom of the box, Quinn found what she was looking for. She pulled out a worn envelope, torn from being handled so often and taped back together around the edges. It was marked only with a shiny gold star. It was stuffed to capacity with papers and photos and memories.

Quinn sighed and closed her eyes. I can do this. She carefully opened the flap of the envelope and slipped her hand inside. The first thing she pulled out was a photo of Rachel from their senior year, smiling at the camera. Quinn had taken it in the dressing room while the girls were before a show choir competition. She looked so beautiful in that red dress. Next, she pulled out a letter Rachel had written to Quinn while she was in the hospital after her crash.

Dearest Quinn,

I know I visited you the other day, and you told me not to make a big fuss

about your being in the hospital, but I thought that if I was the one in the

hospital I would have been very curious about what the glee club and all

of my friends were doing. First of all, Mr. Schue is like a drill sergeant

about nationals. Of course, I do agree with him that we should be practising

and preparing in order to assure a second victory for the New Directions,

but we've all been quite distracted with you in the hospital and all.

Santana specifically asked me to mention that she misses you at Cheerios

practice all the time. She says it's hard to make a pyramid when you're

missing the peak.

Remember that we are all thinking of you. I miss you, Quinn.

Please get better.

All my love,

Rachel Barbra Berry

Quinn caught herself smiling as she read the last line of the letter and suddenly shook her head, wiping the smile from her face. She slammed the letter onto the table in frustration. Why am I doing this to myself? I'm only going to end up with a broken heart again. I have to make sure this whole thing is only business.Quinn knew that wasn't possible. Even if she was able to keep her feelings in check, Rachel would probably want to rekindle some kind of friendship, even if it lasted only until she left Paris. Fine, I'll be friends with her for a while. But I can't try to be anything more. She resolved.

The day of the premiere, Quinn was feeling incredibly anxious. She had tried to keep herself busy, making sure she didn't have to spend too long thinking about Rachel. But in those few minutes that she was thinking of her, she was wondering; Is she really dating her costar? If so, is she happy?

She spent most of the day getting herself ready. Maude had told her to look her best, so she had bought a new dress and shoes to wear to the event. The dress was black silk. It went down just past her knees, and hugged her body nicely. The shoes were simple black heels. She wore her hair pinned up in a curled bun. All black. Maybe she won't notice me... Until the interview. It was hopeless. Either way she would have to face Rachel, and she knew that eventually she would just have to grow a pair and meet her responsibilities.

Around seven o'clock, Quinn left her apartment and made her way to the Châtelet. She didn't want to be late and miss the show, even though she was seriously considering it at this point. It only took her about twenty minutes to arrive, and the show wasn't to start until eight o'clock, so, of course she was very early. She showed her ticket at the door, and made a dash straight to the bar. Quinn knew it wasn't very professional to be drinking on the job, but she desperately needed something to calm her nerves.

"What can I get you, Miss?" asked the bartender politely.

"Um... A vodka water please. No ice." She payed the man, and once he gave her the drink, she turned to face the rest of the room. No sign of Rachel yet. Quinn let out a sigh of relief, then quickly downed her drink. She hissed as the liquor went down and put the glass back on the bar. Then, she asked the bartender where she could find a ladies room. She was planning on hiding there until the show started. Coward. The bartender smiled and answered her.

"There's one upstairs, through the door to the right." He said. So Quinn walked up the stairs, clutching the railing for balance. People were starting to arrive, and the hall was filling up, so she had to step around a few people to get to the bathroom. Once she got there, she was relieved to find no one else inside. She stood in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection. You can do this. You've done it before, and you can do it again. You're Quinn Fabray.

When she left the bathroom, an attendant was announcing that the show would begin shortly, and that the audience should take their seats. Maude had gotten Quinn a ticket in the second row. When she found her seat, she took out her notebook and pen so she could start writing. Once everyone was inside and seated, and house lights dimmed. Quinn held her breath as the orchestra began to play an upbeat melody. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it might bust out of her chest. A spotlight came up on the stage, and a man was in it. Quinn took a deep breath in relief that it wasn't her. That must be Anthony Giovanni. For the next few minutes, he sang a song about how in love he was with Rachel's character, and how sad he was because she would never feel that way about him. Oh, cry me a river, Romeo. Quinn rolled her eyes. After his song, and a brief applause from the crowd, Anthony's spotlight went dark. A slower, prettier melody started playing from the pit. A spotlight came up on the other side of the stage.

And there she was, beautiful as ever. Her hair was flowing down her back in waves, and she was staring up into the balcony, belting out her song. She was wearing a delicate white dress, decorated with lace.

"Fuck." Quinn said, breathless. The man next to her shot her a look of disapproval, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the brunette onstage. Her worries were all gone, and the knot in the pit of her stomach had miraculously vanished. She felt calm, and in awe. She was no longer nervous, and instead she was very much looking forward to the interview. She managed to pry her eyes away from Rachel only briefly, but she grinned and looked up toward the ceiling. Thank you. She thought, and when she looked up at Rachel again, she knew what she had to do. This is my second chance.