"Dad! Tell me why in the middle of the whole year you decided to tell me we were going to move after the decision was made months ago!" Rachel Berry sighed, falling back down on her couch. The disappointment in her words dripped out fluently.

"Rachel, I know you looked forward to performing in Chicago, but you are of 16 years of age! That'd be just silly."

"Dad, who cares about my age? I thought we needed the money, and we could use my talents-"

"When you first told me that, I thought it was a stripper club," her father chuckled, cracking his knuckles. Her father resembled a paler James Franco-yet older, of course-and a sharp, distinct, noticeably different nose, a trait he had passed on to Rachel.

This conversation happened a week ago, right when Rachel's father told her they were moving, and they were repeating all the same lines.

Rachel groaned and thumped down in the arm chair, throwing one of the sage green pillows on her face. "Oh, come on, Rach-it'll be fun. High school is fun!"

She yanked the pillow off her face and looked at her father incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me! High school? Fun? I went through bras like crazy last year due to all the slushie facials I got…."

"Look, I know that it was a smaller town, and kids were cruel, but this place is better, more unique!" Her father persisted with her. Rachel rolled her eyes at him. "Rachel Barbara Emily Berry, knock that off!"

"Ok, Zachary Mark Berry," she sighed, and then sat on the arm chair's arm rest. "I just don't get why I have to start all over here. I don't mind starting over. I hated our school."

"I know….but I hear this one has a Glee Club." At this, Rachel's face lightened and she smiled. "Now, as a little I'm sorry I ruined your dream gift, here's a two hundred dollars. And I know you're going to say no, and if you don't take it, I won't take you to see the limited edition of the sold out Lady Lala concert for your birthday."

"First, it's Gaga, and-you wouldn't!"

"I would, and I expect to hear of it spent, all of it. It's making up for your birthday and half of Christmas/Hannukah."

"Gotcha, Dad, I'm just going to save it. I can wear some of Mom's stuff, remodel it."

"Uh….fine….just, use it wisely. Maybe save it for a day with your new boyfriend."

"Dad, I have no friends, period, now."

"Alright….alright….go, I won't bug you anymore, now just go ahead." Rachel kissed her father's forehead and scooted upstairs, her feet running freely. This was a new start, a new year, a new beginning. It was what she yearned for.

She opened her closet and stared at the rows of dresses and gorgeous shirts and adorable skirts. Rachel was forced into wearing hideous owl sweaters and knit skirts all the time, just to save money. She was a relatively short girl, only 5'4. Not a mini-me as her uncle oh-so-rudely called it, but just petite. It came in handy, for when she needed to save money on clothes, she would just re-wash or re-stretch or re-sow things for multiple wear. All the non-spent on money clothes really paid off, earning her at least 600 hundred a year easy. And while she returned every single gift she got for money, things helped a lot. She divided the money into separate piles-one was college, the second was for home life-when her father wasn't looking, she'd slid a twenty into his wallet every day, and the third, she called G.P for guilty pleasures. Rachel added the money to her special jar and pulled out a dress-a maxi dress, with white lace hitting just above her ankles, and the flesh colored part hitting just above her knees. It was perfect for school-flirty, fun, and summery. Rachel was done with that old girl-boring brown hair, silly sweaters, hideous nose, which is what she thought of herself-and needed a fresh start. The placed the dress on her bed, pulled out a pair of turquoise sandal high heels. She pulled out a bag on her vanity and pulled out a hair dye, in a dark auburn. She wished to remove every part of her old self as could be. She sat before the mirror, wet her hair, and began the process of becoming the new Rachel Berry.

About two hours and laughing non-stop at re-runs of Saturday Night Live, Rachel was finally ready. She pulled off the towel and stared at her now red tresses. She may not have the ability to change her most hated item, but, "this will do," she thought.

She walked down stairs, and quickly caught her father's attention. "What would your daddy and Mom say?" He asked, frowning at her. She shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Dad….it was an accident, or an impulse-I don't know what came over me."

"You, Daddy, your mother and I are going to have a talk later." He frowned at her. Zachary Berry was known to get frustrated about vain changes in appearance.

"You know they won't mind," she teased, kissing his cheek.

"Your daddy spoils you too much," He said, and then her daddy strutted in. "Speak of the devil!"

"Rachel! My your hair looks phenomenal! You look like a pretty, pretty princess….Hello, Zachary," Her Daddy said. Rachel's daddy, Leon Berry, was very feminine and easy going. He kissed his husband's cheek and smiled at her. "Just gorgeous…wait 'till your mother sees!"

Rachel had an interesting family: her father, Zachary, and her daddy, Leon, were married. Her biological mother, Shelby, often stayed with them on rotating days, and was fluently involved in Rachel's life. It was different, but it was what Rachel preferred.

Fifteen minutes later, her mother walked in the door, dressed in black lace that hugged her curvy body. Rachel was like her mother: distinct nose, wide, golden brown eyes, sharp jaw bone, curves and petite. Both women also had extraordinary voices that captivated an audience, but they were unsure how the gene passed on.

Her mother hugged her, complimented her daughter's hair, and then set down her bags. She mingled a little with the family, and sat down at the kitchen table as she watched the fathers of her child make dinner. Shelby had been distant lately, but pulling away was better than having her vanish. It seemed silly, but utterly true. A quick dinner, and then the family were all off to bed.

Simple enough life for a simple girl like Rachel, right? I'd ask you to define simple.

Rachel awoke the next morning, at 6:01 sharp. She stretched and slid her feet into her fuzzy pink slippers. She walked down the stairs, to see a note from her fathers': Off to work! Won't see you until late Wednesday night, have fun on your first day of school!-signed with a strawberry sticker.

"Oh, the irony," Rachel thought as she fixed her straight across bangs on her forehead. She really was loving this dark auburn color. She opened up the fridge and pulled out a bowl of fruit salad. She pulled out a fork and took a few bites, then walked upstairs and put on her dress. She applied red-orange lipstick, smiled at herself in the mirror, and then walked down the stairs, picking up her pink back pack. She slid on her sandals and headed toward her car, locking up the house.

A new start, she thought. A new start.

Yeah, right.

Rachel reached the main entrance of McKinley High School, and walked in. It smelled the same as her old school-the fruity perfume of the snobby girls, the sweat from the boy's locker room, the stomach turning lunch wafting from the cafeteria. She walked to her locker, and opened it in a swift motion. Combinations always seemed to work for her quickly.

Her day drolled on in a boring and mindless manner. Her Spanish class was at least ok, the teacher-Mr. Shcuester, I think-seemed to be alright, plus the class was WAY easier due to her spanish-italian roots. Finally her day ended with what seemed like forever.

She walked up to her locker and-yet again-swiftly opened it. She put her books in, pulled out her bag, and then the locker slammed closed.

Standing above her, leaning against the locker was a pale, beefy, brown haired jock wearing a letterman jacket. "Hey, you. How about you tell me your name?"

"I'd rather not," She replied, knowing that he hadn't wanted to just be friendly and friend request her on facebook. His intentions were much more lewd.

He grabbed her wrists, while she attempted to wriggle away. "Let go off me!" She kicked him in the groin, and heard him groan in pain. He scowled.

"Aww, come on, don't be like that-" He moved his pelvis in a circle, at which she grimaced at.

"Let go of me." She demanded fiercely.

"I'd rather not." He replied. She shut her eyes, and then the pressure on her wrists loosened. She opened her wide eyes.

"She said, leave her alone, Karofsky." A tall, blond boy replied, gripping the boy named Karofsky by the shoulder. His eyes were an electricfying blue, tinged with green and fading gray near the pupils. She felt herself staring and managed to turn away, looking down.
"Y-yes sir." Karofsky stammered, running away.

"You alright, miss?" the blond boy asked her, seeming deeply interested. She nodded in a dazed fashion, blushed, and looked down again. "I'm Sam Evans. Welcome to McKinely. Haven't seen you around before. It'll be a pleasure to have you." He stuck out his hand, and which she took slowly and shook it. She felt a strong jolt in her body and then a numbing sensation. "It's really great to meet you."

"And you," she replied, grasping her books. "Erm, I better get going." She said, pulling away, though she wished she hadn't. She ran down the hallway, unknowing to the fact that she has probably just changed a boys life for forever, and leaving him dumb founded in the center of the room. That lucky idiot, would be me-Sam Evans.

Hey Guys! It takes me forever to upload, i know, i know. My apologizes, and my promise is to get better! I'm just busy with finals and projects and my book and my fashion class-if i knew it would be this hard, I STILL WOULD HAVE TAKEN IT! I love it :D Well, I decided that i needed to channel a more difficult topic-why not tell everyone's story through Sam? I thought a challenge would be interesting. I hope you all enjoy!

Oh, and everyone will be meet in the next chapter. Hoping that i can make some ideas up. And I am going to have an OC-maybe, if my favorite author "ForeverandAlwaysMyself" lets me. Check our her story w/ Sam and Rachel called Everlasting Scars. Her writing is pure beauty and art and is one of my role models. Thanks. so much, hon~

####Emi enjoy!~###