Isaac stood before his open closet, his expression a mix of concentration and frustration as he surveyed the neatly arranged rows of clothing. Each garment seemed to undergo his scrutiny, only to be dismissed with a dissatisfied grunt or a shake of his head.
Glancing over his shoulder at his friends, who lounged amidst a colorful array of fashion magazines on his bed, he couldn't help but feel a pang of exasperation. "My God, Isaac, you've been at this for half an hour," Kurt remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Charlotte rolled her eyes playfully, flipping through a particularly glossy page featuring the latest runway trends. "Darling, you have more clothes than a department store, and yet here you are, agonizing over what to wear."
With a withering glance, Isaac returned to his task, determined to find the perfect outfit. He plucked out a charcoal gray suit from its place, holding it up under the soft glow of the overhead lights. "What about this?" he mused aloud, his brow furrowing in uncertainty.
"A three-piece suit in this weather? Really?"
"Kurt, I called you here for your expertise, not so you can lounge around on my bed and flip through magazines. That goes for you as well Lottie."
Undeterred, the brown-haired young man continued his search, his fingers trailing over the fabrics until they landed on a fluffy red half-zip sweater tucked away on a shelf. "What about this?
The girl's eyes sparkled with approval as she caught sight of the sweater. "Perfect," she declared with a warm smile. "Pair it with a crisp white shirt underneath."
Kurt nodded in agreement, stepping forward to survey the wardrobe. "And these white cargo pants and gray sneakers will complete the look," he suggested, pulling out the coordinating pieces.
Relieved to have finally found his outfit, he quickly slipped into the suggested outfit for the evening. As he smoothed down his hair and sprayed some cologne in front of the mirror, a surge of anticipation coursed through him.
"Well, what do you think?" he asked, turning to his friends with a hint of nervousness in his voice.
His friends exchanged approving glances before nodding in unison. "You look great, Isaac," Charlotte assured him, her gray eyes brimming with warmth. "Quinn won't know what hit her."
"Go get her, tiger!" Kurt called out as Isaac walked out the door, "Just make sure you keep us updated."
The quiet hum of Quinn's car engine provided a soothing backdrop to the otherwise silent atmosphere of the restaurant parking lot. With practiced ease, she expertly maneuvered her vehicle into a tight spot, her focus unwavering as she navigated through the maze of parked cars.
Through the speakers of her car, Santana's voice crackled to life, "Hey, you there yet?" her voice rang out over the hands-free connection.
"Yeah, just parked."
"Have you seen him yet?"
Looking out of the window, Quinn's gaze zeroed in on Isaac, tall and composed, standing near the entrance of the restaurant. He was engrossed in conversation on his phone, bathed in the soft glow of the restaurant's lights. "Yes, he's at the door, talking on the phone," she confirmed, a soft smile gracing her lips as she observed him.
Brittany's voice joined the conversation, her own curiosity piqued. "Ooh, what does he look like?"
Her fingers deftly smoothed through her hair, ensuring each strand was in place, while she carefully reapplied her lipstick, "He looks... really handsome," she admitted, a gentle flush coloring her cheeks at the confession.
"Wanky."
As Quinn reached for the cardboard box resting on the seat beside her, a wave of nerves washed over her. Santana's voice turned serious, genuine concern threading through her words. "Are you ready for this, Quinn?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"That's the spirit, Quinnie. Just remember to tell us all the details later. We love you."
"You're Quinn fucking Fabray, go get your man, bitch. And don't forget to remind Isaac that my weekly chocolate delivery is long overdue."
"I will. Thanks, guys."
With one last deep breath to steady her nerves, she ended the call and opened the car door, stepping out into the cool evening air, her heart pounding with anticipation. As she approached, Isaac spotted her and ended his phone call, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Quinn, hey, you made it," he greeted, his voice smooth and welcoming.
"Hey, Isaac,"
She couldn't help but notice the way her eyes lit up when they met hers, sending a flutter of excitement through her. With a gallant gesture, he held the door open for her and together, they stepped into the restaurant, greeted by the tantalizing aroma of spices and cooking that enveloped them in its warmth. The ambiance was lively, with the murmur of diners and the clatter of dishes adding to the lively atmosphere.
The hostess welcomed them with a friendly smile and led them to their table, a cozy corner booth tucked away from the bustling crowd. As they settled into their seats, Quinn couldn't shake the feeling of being on edge, her mind racing with thoughts of what to say and how to act. This was it, she thought to herself, the moment she had been waiting for.
"So, how was your holiday?" Isaac's question broke the silence between them, his voice filled with genuine interest.
"It was good, busy as usual. My sister Frannie and her husband came to visit and stayed for a few days. How about yours?"
"I went back to Fairbrook, my hometown. It was strange but comforting going back, you know? But I enjoyed it a lot." His smile turned shy as he continued, "I also met Seth and Grace, they used to be friends with my parents. They have this huge wall full of polaroids from every customer that walks through the door, can you believe it? My parents, my uncles, and even myself were featured in those snapshots."
Quinn shifted nervously at the mention of the polaroids, her heart pounding in her chest. "Isaac, I-" She was interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, who approached to take their dinner orders. After jotting down their selections, the waitress left, leaving them alone once again.
"What were you saying?"
"It's... nothing."
Isaac's brow furrowed with a mixture of concern and frustration, his expression a portrait of stubborn determination. "Don't do this again, Quinn," he pleaded, his voice soft but firm, as he reached across the table, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. "Please."
"You're going to be angry when you find out," she protested weakly, her voice tinged with uncertainty, even as his thumb traced comforting circles on her palm.
"If you don't tell me, you'll never know," he reasoned, offering her a small, supportive smile. "Is it in that box?" He nodded towards the cardboard box sitting on the seat beside her, his curiosity piqued.
Quinn felt a lump form in her throat as she swallowed nervously, her hands trembling as she reached for the box. With a shaky breath, she pushed it towards him, her eyes pleading silently. "Just promise me you'll let me explain before you walk out that door and I never see you again," she implored, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I've already said this many many times, but you're very dramatic, Fabray. Can I open it?"
She nodded, her chest tight with anticipation, her mind racing with possibilities as she closed her eyes, bracing herself for his reaction.
"The auburn hair didn't look so bad on you. I'm kind of digging it, you know?" Isaac's voice broke through after a few minutes that seemed an eternity to her.
Quinn's eyes snapped open at his words, her gaze locking onto the image he held up to her chin. She blinked in surprise, her heart fluttering erratically as she processed his unexpected reaction. "Aren't you angry?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Not a bit?"
"Grace gave me this photo," he explained gently, reaching into his wallet and retrieving another picture, this one showing them together at Toussaint's. "And there are my parents' home tapes of you in them." He handed her the photo, his thumb brushing against the glossy surface. "Your eyes looked familiar, but I couldn't pinpoint where I'd seen them until Ash showed me our class photo, and a name caught my attention—Lucy Q. Fabray." He paused, his gaze searching hers. "It didn't take me long to figure out that the Q in the name came from Quinn, and the last name Fabray is not very common either."
Quinn felt a rush of emotions flood over her, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to process his words. She released a shaky exhale, her eyes welling up with tears before she even realized it. With an incredulous laugh, tears began to stream down her cheeks uncontrollably. She cried for the childhood they could have had if he hadn't had the accident. She cried for all the years she spent hating him for abandoning her. She cried for him, a boy from whom everything had been taken overnight. But above all, she cried for Lucy, for that chubby girl who was blameless in it all, who had experienced things no child should ever endure.
Before she knew it, she was enveloped in Isaac's embrace, his arms a safe haven as she sobbed uncontrollably against his chest as she clung to him as if he were her held her tightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of her head as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance.
"You're okay." The weight of years of pent-up emotions began to lift from her shoulders as she buried her face against him. "We're okay. Everything's going to be okay."
When the waitress returned with their plates, setting down the steaming dishes before them, they separated reluctantly, though Isaac couldn't help but reach out to cup her face gently, his thumb brushing away the tears that lingered on her cheeks. "What a first date, huh?" he joked, a tender smile playing on his lips. "Don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry."
Quinn sniffled softly, a wry chuckle escaping her lips despite the lingering traces of sadness in her eyes. "I ruined your sweater," she remarked with a self-deprecating shake of her head. "God, I'm a mess."
He rose from his seat and moved to sit directly in front of her. He reached for the bottle of water on the table, pouring a glass for her before filling one for himself. As they both took a sip, he regarded her with a curious glint in his eyes. "How did we meet?"
"Want me to tell you the story of us?"
"Tell me everything."
"It seems that the governing board has assigned a theme to this year's Regionals, and part of our score will be based on how we interpret it. This year's theme: anthem," Will announced to the Glee Club, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he revealed the exciting news. "Now who can tell us what an anthem is?"
Brittany couldn't resist a quip, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm as she raised her hand. "It's the bottom of an ant's pants," she replied, prompting Santana to stifle a laugh beside her.
The teacher's expression fell slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features. "So close, so close, Brittany, but no," he sighed theatrically. "An anthem is an epic song filled with a groundswell of emotion, one that seems bigger than itself – even bigger than the person performing it."
Just as the class settled back into attentive silence, Sam interjected, rising from his seat and positioning himself in the center of the room. "Oh, hey, Sam. I didn't even notice your new haircut..." Will began, his surprise evident as he glanced at the boy, the rest of the Glee Club members turning their attention towards him.
"Yeah, I've been eyeing a new image for my one-man band, The Justin Bieber Experience," he explained casually, running a hand through his freshly styled hair as he shot a sidelong glance at Quinn, waiting for her reaction.
Quinn couldn't help but snort in disbelief, "You've got to be fucking kidding me," her incredulous expression mirrored by Santana, who discreetly whipped out her cell phone to start recording the scene unfolding before her.
"Laugh all you want, but that kid's an epic talent. And there's a number that I've been working on that I've been meaning to show off. And I think it qualifies as an anthem because… it's just hugely emotional and… sums up our generation."
With that, he picked up a guitar, his fingers deftly strumming the chords as he launched into song, his gaze fixed on the girl he was trying to win over.
"You know you love me, I know you care. Just shout whenever, and I'll be there,"
Quinn felt a flush of discomfort rising in her cheeks as Sam pulled her close to him, his breath warm against her tried to maintain a neutral expression, but the weight of his words and the intensity of his stare made her heart race uncomfortably in her chest.
"You are my love, you are my heart. And we will never, ever, ever be apart,"
As the chorus began, the boy rose from his chair, his movements fluid and confident as he started to dance. Several of the Glee girls hooted in approval, their voices blending with the music as they waved their arms in the air and clapped along with the beat. The Glee club boys watched on, a mixture of amusement and bewilderment crossing their faces as they observed the effect Sam's performance was having on the girls.
"Oh my god, this is gold," Santana snickered, thoroughly entertained by the situation, her phone still in hand as she recorded the spectacle unfolding before her.
"What are you doing, Santana?" Quinn asked quietly, her tone laced with frustration as she watched Sam's persistent pursuit.
"I'm recording this to send to Lover Boy. "Does Bieber know that you're just friends or...?"
"I told him we were just friends," she snapped, her patience wearing thin as she struggled to maintain her composure in the face of Sam's persistent advances. She buried her face in her hands, feeling a surge of frustration wash over her. "Why do these things keep happening to me?" she murmured, her voice muffled by her hands.
"Does your boyfriend know that Ken is still after you here like a puppy without an owner?"
"He's not my boyfriend," Quinn murmured, her gaze drifting to Sam as he finished his song and looked at her hopefully. She offered him a polite smile, her discomfort evident in the way she shifted in her seat.
"He so is your boyfriend, you just don't want to admit it." the Latina quipped, her tone dripping with sarcasm as the three of them sauntered out the door, pointedly ignoring the blonde boy who was attempting to approach them. "Are you still indulging in this Romeo and Juliet sexual fantasy?"
"And he agrees to all of this?" Brittany asked, her curiosity evident as she fell into step beside Quinn, her head tilting slightly inquisitively. Isaac was known for his affectionate nature, always ready with a hug or a kind word for everyone. It seemed odd to the cheerleader that his friend would be willing to maintain a secret relationship.
Quinn paused, a conflicted expression crossing her features as she busied herself with organizing her books in her locker. "We've fought about it a couple of times," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid of losing control of what we have if our relationship becomes public."
Santana scoffed, a file in her hand as she leaned against the lockers. "You're being ridiculous, Fabray," she declared bluntly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Britt and I tried that whole secret relationship thing too at first, and it always ended in fights because she'd get jealous, and so would I."
"Plus, let's face it, you're the jealous type, Quinnie. We had to practically rip your phone out of your hands when you saw that photo of Isaac with Charlotte to stop you from calling him and causing a scene."
Her fists clenched involuntarily at the memory, her jaw tensing with frustration. "She was throwing herself at him, groping him," she muttered angrily, the image seared into her mind. Her friends exchanged knowing glances before turning to her with their eyebrows raised. "Okay, okay, I see your point," she conceded begrudgingly.
Kurt surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding before him with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. In the dimly lit basement of the Berry residence, the atmosphere was charged with the frenetic energy of a party spiraling out of control. A drunk Rachel had just planted a sloppy kiss on Blaine, his heart sinking as he watched his crush reciprocate.
Turning his gaze away, his attention was drawn to the other side of the room, where Brittany was dancing with abandon atop the makeshift bar, her shirt discarded and forgotten on the floor. Santana egged her on, tossing bills in her direction with abandon.
Nearby, Lauren stood with her arms crossed, hurling insults at Puck with biting sarcasm, her sharp wit cutting through the haze of alcohol-induced euphoria. Mercedes and Tina leaned against each other for support, their laughter ringing out in bursts of unrestrained merriment as they shared inside jokes and memories.
Meanwhile, Sam and Quinn engaged in a heated argument, their voices rising above the din of the party as accusations flew back and forth. Her frustration was palpable as she pushed the boy away, her words dripping with disdain as she made it clear she didn't want anything to do with him .
With a sigh of resignation, Kurt reached for his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he dialed a familiar number.
"Kurtsie, how's everything going at the Rachel Berry House Party Train Wreck Extravaganza?" his friend's hoarse voice crackled through the line, punctuated by the distant sounds of another party in full swing.
"I need you here, pronto," he pleaded, his voice tinged with urgency as he watched Blaine and Rachel launch into a duet of "Don't You Want Me, Baby?" "Or I'll throw up, and you know how much effort I put into my outfit."
"Send me the address," Isaac's voice came through suddenly, more sober. He heard him bid farewell to his own gathering and stepped out onto the bustling street. Kurt quickly texted him the location, receiving a swift reply: "I'll be there in half an hour."
"I'm warning you, they're all very out of it; Britt's dancing on the bar shirtless, and Santana is throwing money at her. Oh yeah, and your girlfriend is in full angry drunk mode. She's been fighting with Sam all night."
"Why are they so drunk?" Isaac inquired, his brow furrowing in concern as he ushered him inside, the bass thumping through the floorboards beneath their feet.
"They're a little stressed about Regionals, and Puck suggested a party. Rachel being Rachel said no alcohol, but when she saw everyone leaving, she let Puck raid the alcohol cabinet."
As they reached the basement, the scene unfolded before them just as Kurt had described. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol, the neon lights casting a dizzying array of colors across the room as bodies moved in a frenzy of motion.
"Okay, let's do something," Isaac declared, his voice firm as he handed his car keys to Kurt. "Wait for me in the car while I try to avoid this ending in a noise complaint."
Seeing Kurt go, he wasted no time in taking action, heading straight for the speakers connected to the socket and yanking the plug, silencing the blaring music that had fueled the chaos. With a flick of the switch, he flooded the basement with light, causing a chorus of protests to erupt from the inebriated partygoers.
"Okay, Glee Club. The party is over. Time to brush your teeth and get into bed."
Moving swiftly, he made his way to the bar where his blonde was perched, shirtless and carefree. With gentle hands, he helped her down and assisted her in putting her shirt back on. Brittany immediately snuggled into him with a contented yawn. His attention was diverted when he felt another pair of arms encircle him, and he looked down to see a drunken Santana clinging to him. "This is happening too often, don't you think?" he remarked dryly, but the girl offered no response, simply hugging him tightly much like her girlfriend had done moments before.
Seeking assistance, Isaac spotted Finn, who appeared remarkably sober, "Finn, man, give me a hand, will you?"
"Puck, Mike, Blaine, and Sam are coming with me.I figure Rachel, Tina, and Mercedes can stay here to sleep, and we can call Artie's dad to pick him up."
Finn's gaze shifted to where Quinn and Sam were still engaged in a heated argument, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "Would you mind taking care of Quinn? It's just that when she's in Angry Quinn mode, she scares me a little, you know?" he admitted sheepishly.
As they both began to organize the logistics of getting their friends safely home, he made his way up the stairs, leading Santana and Brittany towards his car where Kurt awaited. With careful movements, he helped the two cheerleaders into the vehicle, ensuring they were settled before turning back to the house.
"She's furious," Finn warned as they crossed paths through the doorway, his voice tinged with apprehension.
Descending the stairs once more, Isaac found himself face to face with his girlfriend, her expression twisted with anger and suspicion as she approached him.
"Where were you?" she demanded, her voice sharp as she gave him a little push.
"I was at a party with my friends when Kurt called me, saying you were all sloshed and wanted to leave."
"I'm sure you were hooking up with someone," Quinn snapped, her words laced with bitterness as she accused him, her breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. "I can smell the cheap perfume from here, Isaac. I'm not stupid."
Isaac felt a surge of frustration rising within him, but he pushed it down, reminding himself she was drunk. "Quinn, you're drunk," he responded, stepping closer to her, but she recoiled, putting distance between them.
"You're cheating on me, aren't you?" she demanded, her jaw clenched with pent-up anger as she poked him in the chest with a finger.
He closed his eyes briefly, struggling to maintain his composure. "I wasn't cheating on you. I was having a good time with a couple of friends," he explained calmly, his words measured as he attempted to reason with her.
"Friends, my ass, Isaac," Quinn retorted, her voice dripping with disdain as she pushed him again, pinning him against the wall with a forceful gesture. "Do those friends of yours even know that you have a girlfriend?" she challenged him, her tone condescending as she searched his eyes for any sign of guilt.
"Don't you dare throw our relationship in my face. You're the one who doesn't want anyone to find out we're dating," Isaac shot back, his voice rising in annoyance. He immediately regretted his outburst, seeing the hurt flash in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, his voice softening. "I didn't mean to yell at you."
"I didn't know it bothered you that much that no one knew we were dating," Quinn said softly, her voice carrying a note of vulnerability as she hugged herself, "You told me it didn't bother you."
"You're my girlfriend, Quinn, of course it bothers me," Isaac cried out, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his curls, his agitation palpable. "Do you really think I find it funny knowing that the Bieber wannabe is trying to hit on my girlfriend at every waking moment? Because if you do, you're very wrong."
"You told me you didn't care, that you would give me time or are you…are you rethinking our relationship?"
"I'm giving you time, but people have a limit," he argued, his expression crestfallen as he slumped onto the couch, "We go to different schools, and you're the Head Cheerleader. You'll probably have half the male population of McKinley fighting over you because they think you're single and—" He ran a frustrated hand over his face, his words trailing off in frustration. "I know you think I'm not jealous, but I am. You don't know how much I wanted to punch Sam in the face when Santana sent me the fucking video."
Suddenly, Isaac felt a weight settle into his lap, and he looked up to see Quinn's face inches from his own, her hands gently caressing his cheeks as she peppered his face with kisses, each one a silent apology that made his heart ache with tenderness.
"I'm sorry," she whispered between kisses, her voice barely above a whisper melting away his anger and frustration.
He enveloped her in a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned in to kiss her, their lips meeting in a brief make-out session that momentarily eased the tension between them. Pulling away slightly, he smiled against her lips.
"My jealous girl," he murmured, his tone tinged with possessiveness as he pressed his forehead against hers and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face.
His girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully, her fingers tangling in his hair as she gave it a harsh tug, making him look up at her, his pupils dilating with desire."You're not a saint either, mister," she teased, her voice laced with affection as she leaned in to kiss him once more.
"When it comes to you, no. You're mine, and I don't like sharing what's mine," Isaac declared, his possessive tone sending a shiver down her spine as she blushed furiously under his gaze. "Will you let me take you home? Please, baby."
Reluctantly, Quinn rose from his lap, but not before giving him one final kiss, her lips lingering against his for a moment longer than necessary. He couldn't help but chase after her, his fingers trailing lightly along her sides as she nipped at his bottom lip.
"You're mine too, Isaac. Don't forget that," she whispered against his ear, her breath warm before pulling away with a cheeky smile.
Isaac laughed warmly, his hazel eyes sparkling with adoration as he stood up from his seat approaching her. With a tender smile, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss on her cheek, eliciting a soft giggle.
"You're so lucky I like you, Fabray."