Thanks to all who read and review! Song used in this chapter is "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day. Keep it coming! I love you guys, thanks for the support!

Eight months earlier.

Quinn's POV:

"Quinn! Get in here! I need to show you something!" Kurt yelled, from the other side of the loft.

"If it's anything but the new issue of Vogue, I'll be pissed." I say, willingly making my way into the other room.

He has his laptop set up, typing away. What has he dragged me into this time...

I walk over to him, and plop down onto the couch next to him. He quickly turns the screen to face me, and I come face to face with, me?

"What is this Kurt?" I kind of chuckle as I ask.

"It's your new online profile that I-"

"No." My tone was as cold as ice.

"But, I-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, and how about no?" I interrupt him as I slam the screen of the laptop down and get up making my way back to my room.

"Q, he's right," Santana says, coming out of the bathroom. "It's time for you to get out there again."

I stop before dragging the curtain to close off my room (there isn't a door to slam). I turn around and face both of them. I smile, and I just say,

"No."

"Q, c'mon, stop being so stuck-up. You've been so reserved since you got here, which was, I don't know, like two years ago. You need to let loose, forget, and just move on."

"God, Santana, you are such a bitch. No wonder no one wants to settle down with you. You're just a scared selfish, egotistical bitch, who is afraid of ever loving anyone, so you lash out at anyone who doesn't do what you say. And Kurt, you have no business intruding in my life. I don't tell you how to live your life with Blaine, or that maybe you shouldn't get married because you keep putting it off anyway. You both are scared of growing up, so why don't you guys just move on." I say, frustrated, pushing past them towards the door.

God, that felt great. Yeah, so maybe I feel a little guilty as I glare at them and see the pain and shock in their faces on my way out of the loft. But after that rant, I know I will not be able to come back here until after I simmer down, and definitely after Santana simmers down.

I start walking. Do I know where I'm going? No. I just need to walk. I mean, it's New York City. I'll just follow wherever my feet lead me.

"I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me and I walk alone...

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

'Til then I walk alone..."

Maybe they're right. I need to stop dwelling on the past. He left me. And he is probably never coming back.

I think back to that morning:

Oh my god, last night was amazing. I stretch out before opening my eyes. But there isn't anyone next to me.

"Noah?" I call out finally letting the light of day in as my eyes open. I feel so refreshed. I manage to sit up, realizing I'm still a little underdressed from last night. I slip out of the covers and get into my silk robe that was strewn out on the floor. The memories from last night are still so fresh in my mind. I just smile.

But where is the guy that made it so special? I walk through our apartment. I don't see him anywhere. I'm starting to worry, because I literally don't see him or any of his things anywhere. I go to his dresser, but it's all cleaned out.

No, this cannot be happening. He can't just leave without saying goodbye. He had to have left a note, or something. I look in the living room, by the door, in the kitchen, on his desk. Nothing. I go back to our bed, I'm crying hysterically. Why? Why did he leave me? I thought he loved me? I was right after all, no one is capable of loving me.

A tear is finding it's way down my cheek. Santana's right, for once. I'm still obsessing over what happened two years ago. I just need a night to myself, for myself. From this moment on, Noah Puckerman is a ghost to me. He was never who I thought he was, now it's time for me to move on. I stop walking, and finally decide to look around, wondering where the hell I ended up.

I actually have no idea where I am, I mean it's New York! But all I know is that I spy a little nightclub across the street. And I'm about to drown my sorrows and not give a care in the world about anything, anymore.

Alright, New York, it's time to experience a new Quinn Fabray.

The next morning I wake up with a pounding headache. Hold up. Where did I just wake up? I do not remember going home last night. Shit.

I rub my eyes of the sleepiness that fills them. I feel a body behind me, and not to mention his arm draped over me. Shit. Who the fuck did I fuck?

I try to wriggle my way out of his clutch, but he pulls me back in rolling me over to face him.

"G'morning, babe." he says, eyes still closed. I just look at him desperately trying to remember what happened last night.

He opened his eyes and grinned at me, leaning in for a kiss. I hesitate before actually letting him place his lips on mine. What am I doing? Oh yeah, that's right. I'm not caring anymore.

"Hey," I say, pulling out of the liplock. I give him a small smile when he gives a confused look.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... Last night... I don't..." Words just weren't able to come out of my mouth and make sense.

"It's ok..." He says, soothing me. "Here, let's just start over. I'm Austin," he fumbles around in the sheets until he is able to put out his right hand.

"Quinn," I laugh as I reply, putting my right hand in his, not expecting him to bring it up to his mouth to kiss. His eyes never left mine.

Ok, so maybe this one-night stand wasn't such a bad thing.