Burnin' love comes once in a lifetime

Oh, the memories never fade away

Golden girl, I'll keep you forever

Finn was, without a doubt, the coolest guy he knew. He had that effortless swagger—the kind that made people take notice without him even trying. He was the best-looking dude at McKinley, hands down—and while he wasn't the type to brag, let's be real, it was impossible for anyone not to notice. Captain of the football team, Finn was the center of attention, the one everyone looked to. And wherever he went, you could bet his ridiculously hot girlfriend was right by his side.

Quinn was the head cheerleader, the queen of the Cheerios, and honestly, she might as well have been handpicked by the universe to be perfect. Her beauty wasn't just skin-deep; it radiated a kind of unattainable glow that made people stop and stare. Finn had never seen anyone come close to her level of flawlessness. She was the definition of perfection, and it was no surprise they'd ended up together.

Quinn liked to say it was all about symmetry, or some other pseudo-scientific nonsense, but whatever. The point was that together, they were untouchable—the golden couple of McKinley. And it wasn't just because of their looks. It was the way they carried themselves, like they owned the place—like the entire school was their kingdom. And honestly? It kind of was.

And the best part? They were only sophomores. They hadn't even been in high school for two full years, and they were already the most talked-about couple in the whole school. If anyone was gonna set the standard for high school royalty, it was them. They were untouchable. No one came close, not even seniors. Finn and Quinn were the ones everyone else wanted to be, or at least wanted to hang around, and no one was gonna take that from them.

Everything about their relationship was awesome, except for one tiny detail: Quinn had become president of this celibacy club, which Finn really wasn't having. No sex, obviously, but he was still allowed to make out and cop a feel—which, fine, wasn't the worst thing ever, but it definitely wasn't enough. What the hell? Kissing her felt like a teaser trailer for a movie he could never actually watch. It was like being stuck in a stupid, never-ending game of "keep your hands to yourself," and it was driving him insane. He couldn't exactly complain about it to her, though—so he sucked it up and played the "supportive boyfriend" part, but inside? He was basically throwing a fit. It was like dating a mannequin, and the longer it dragged on, the more he just wanted to scream, (and blow a load in his pants.)

Another thing Quinn was always talking about staying at the top, and for them, that meant asserting dominance over everyone else—especially the socially challenged. By ten in the morning, Finn had already tossed Jacob Ben Israel into a dumpster, tripped some skinny kid who wore ridiculous clothes, and was currently on his second slushy of the day—this one specially reserved for Rachel Berry.

Rachel Berry was a walking disaster. She had a mouth that never stopped moving—Finn had never met anyone who could talk more than her. It was almost impressive how someone so tiny could be so full of words, as if she had an endless supply of annoying commentary just waiting to spill out. And God, did it spill out.

Rachel had this attitude, too, like she was too good for everyone. She walked around with this snooty look on her face, like she was some untouchable goddess. It made Finn want to punch something. She was so busy acting like she was superior to everyone, it was like she forgot she was at the bottom of the high school food chain.

Quinn couldn't stand her. She'd leave brutal comments on Rachel's MySpace page, calling her outfits a cross between "grandma chic and toddler disaster." Puck would rip on Rachel's fashion choices too. Even though he might talk shit, Finn was pretty sure he'd caught Puck checking Rachel out once when she wore one of those skirts that showed off her legs.

Finn didn't have a problem with Rachel's clothes. In fact, he didn't mind them at all. Those knee-high socks and skirts? He wasn't blind. Yeah, she was super annoying and definitely had a chip on her shoulder, but damn if she wasn't hot. Finn wasn't about to pretend he didn't notice. The girl had a body on her, and even if he hated her attitude, he could appreciate what she was working with.

This particular morning, Rachel was standing by her locker, chatting with some fat Black girl and an Asian vampire. When the two noticed Finn walking towards them, they quickly scattered, leaving Rachel standing there, confused and alone. She didn't even realize what was coming.

Unfortunately for Rachel, her back was turned when Finn made his move. As she turned around to see what was going on, she got an unexpected faceful of cold ice. She let out a squeak, but it was quickly drowned out by Finn's mocking tone.

"Feeling sticky, Berry?" he taunted, a smug grin spreading across his face.

Puck had recently discovered that cherry was Rachel's least favorite slushy flavor. Every time he hit her with one, she'd make that hilarious pucker-faced expression like she was trying to hold in some silent protest. So, whenever she got especially annoying, he'd hit her with a slushy, shutting her up for a few moments.

Finn couldn't help but grin as Rachel stood there, totally frozen in shock and rage. The bright red slushy was dripping down her chest, soaking through her white blouse. The shirt clung to her skin, sticking in all the wrong places. Finn's eyes lingered longer than he meant to. He tried to look away, but it was hard to ignore. The slushy had hit her just right. It wasn't just the mess—it was the way her blouse got all see-through and stuck to her like that. Yeah, it was impossible not to notice.

"Guess that slushy hit all the right spots, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with amusement. He tilted his head, enjoying the sight of her face, all flustered and trying not to look totally humiliated. "Hard to miss the details now, don't you think?" He raised an eyebrow, smirking even more.

Rachel's face turned bright red, her expression a mix of shock and fury. But under all that, Finn could see she was about to crack—she was fighting to keep it together. The tears were practically sitting on the edge, ready to spill, but she wasn't giving him the satisfaction of breaking down.

Finn smirked, but it flickered for a second. He wasn't used to seeing Rachel go quiet—usually, she had some smartass comeback or annoying remark, but now she was just standing there, clearly trying not to lose it. He couldn't help but watch her struggle.

But that wasn't his problem, was it? She'd been an easy target, and he was going to enjoy the moment for all it was worth. "Don't take it too personally, Berry. You know the drill. You talk too much, you get the slushy."

His fleeting guilt was quickly snuffed out when Puck slapped him on the back, greeting him with a high five. Finn grinned, watching Rachel make her way toward the bathroom with her "emergency slushy kit" in tow. Puck shot him a look. "Man, you really nailed her with that one."

"Yeah, she'll be cleaning that up for hours," Finn said with a small laugh, leaning against the lockers. "I don't think she saw it coming."

Meanwhile, Rachel barely made it a few steps before Quinn, Santana, and Brittany cornered her. It was like they had rehearsed it—Quinn snatched the spare clothes from Rachel's hands and held them out of reach.

Finn watched as Quinn teased her. "C'mon, man hands, just grab them!" she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery.

Rachel, red-faced and still soaked from the slushy, was scrambling to cover her chest with one arm while trying to grab her clothes with the other. She looked like a hot mess—half humiliated, half furious—and Finn couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction as she struggled. He was used to seeing her all proud and pompous, but right now, she looked pathetic.

Santana called out from the back, smirking as she added, "Why don't you just use the boy's bathroom, tranny? Might as well."

Rachel's eyes narrowed, and she shot them a look of pure hatred, but it didn't matter. She was stuck, completely at their mercy. Finn leaned against the lockers, watching her with a smirk. Rachel was always so sure of herself, but now she was a mess, scrambling for dignity in front of the whole hallway.

Yeah, part of him knew it was kinda messed up, but it was hard not to enjoy seeing her brought down a notch. She mostly deserved it.

As Rachel stood there, struggling to cover herself and retrieve her clothes, the hallway buzzed with murmurs. Finn leaned against the lockers, his arms crossed, watching her. Puck stood beside him, clearly amused by the spectacle.

"Man, look at her," Puck said, gesturing toward Rachel. "She's making it way too easy. Always so full of herself, now she's just begging for attention."

Finn smirked, but it wasn't as satisfying as it usually was. His stomach churned a bit as the jocks around them added their two cents.

"Yeah, she looks good, but damn, she's annoying," one of the guys chuckled. "If she wasn't so full of herself, maybe I'd tap that."

The others laughed along, but Finn felt his discomfort growing. It wasn't just about Rachel being annoying anymore. These guys were being totally weird. He didn't like how the comments were piling on, especially with how embarrassed she looked.

"If you could get that mouth to stop moving, imagine what it could do," one of the other jocks said, snickering.

Finn shifted uneasily, the satisfaction of the moment slipping away. Yeah, Rachel reallynsucked, but this was pushing it. Usually, he would've laughed it off, but now it felt... off. It felt wrong.

Puck nudged him, grinning. "Come on, you gotta admit, she looks hot when she's all flustered like that."

Finn just nodded, not really paying attention. He kept watching Rachel—she looked so different from the cocky, confident girl she usually was. She was flustered, embarrassed, and for some reason, it didn't feel like a win.

Out of the corner of his eye, Finn caught sight of Jacob Ben Israel's creepy, leering grin. The guy always had that strange, unblinking stare, and Finn could feel the awkwardness radiating off of him as he fumbled with his backpack. Sure enough, Jacob pulled out his camera, pointing it straight at Rachel and Quinn. His finger hit the zoom like he was on some kind of mission, focusing right on Rachel's chest.

"Wanky-Wanky! Now that's what I call a perfect shot," Jacob muttered under his breath, his voice way too smug for what he was doing. "Seriously, if I was a betting man, I'd say Rachel Berry's got more curves than she lets on. Just look at that... form-fitting disaster of an outfit." He let out a little chuckle, clearly proud of himself for being such a creep. "I'd pay top dollar for a peek at what's under there."

Finn clenched his jaw, irritated by Jacob's complete lack of shame. It was beyond creepy, and yet Jacob didn't seem to care at all.

Finn knew this couldn't go on. Jacob was still holding that camera, leering at Rachel like it was some sort of prize, making everything worse. Finn had seen enough.

He stormed over to Jacob, yanked the camera out of his hands, and slammed it into the floor. The lens cracked with a sharp crunch, and Finn stomped on it, grinding it into the tiles. Jacob screamed in protest, but Finn barely registered the noise. He wasn't about to let this go on any long

Turning to Quinn, who was standing there, grinning ear to ear, Finn snatched the clothes from her hands and turned to Rachel. She was still trying to cover herself up, looking completely humiliated. Finn shoved the clothes into her hands, but Rachel didn't even look up at him. She just stared at the clothes, a frown spreading across her face like he was the one who'd taken them. She quickly ran to the bathroom, pushing through Santana and Brittany before entering.

Quinn rolled her eyes, barely sparing him a glance. "Oh, how brave of you, Finn," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Too bad she doesn't seem that impressed."

Finn stood there for a second, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. Maybe a "thank you" or even just a glance in his direction. But Rachel didn't say a word. She didn't even seem to notice he was standing there. It was like he wasn't even part of the equation.

His stomach twisted with frustration. He'd stepped in to stop the embarrassment, done something that actually mattered, and all he got was a cold shoulder. Fine. Whatever. That was the last time he'd help her.

Finn walked back to the group of guys, his eyes scanning the bunch as they all threw him judgmental looks, along with a few raised eyebrows. Puck was the first to speak, spitting out his words like they were something gross. "What the hell was that, man?"

Finn shrugged, acting like it was no big deal. "It was getting pathetic to watch, dude. Plus, what if Figgins showed up and saw what was going on? We'd all be screwed."

Santana couldn't resist adding her two cents, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Aww, Finnessa, don't tell me you're soft for Treasure Trail now?" she teased, a smirk spreading across her face.

Quinn shot Santana a death glare that could've melted glass. "Don't joke like that, Santana. Finn would never associate with someone like her," she said, before sliding into Finn's arms with a possessive, almost smug look on her face. "Like he said, he was just saving our asses."

Finn felt a sense of relief as Quinn played her part, her touch reminding him that he had backup. The guys mumbled their agreement, and the crowd slowly started to thin out.

Quinn leaned in close to Finn, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, her voice low and cold, "If you ever embarrass me like that again, I'll drop you." She dragged out every word like she was savoring it, the edge in her voice making it clear she wasn't joking. Finn's stomach tightened as she straightened up, her eyes narrowing, but the sickly sweet smile that followed made it clear she wasn't done. "Got it, babe?" she asked, her tone sugar-coated but laced with a warning.

Finn swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her stare. "Of course, babe," he replied, a little too quickly, his voice cautious as he tried to keep his composure. He wasn't about to argue—he knew better. Quinn didn't give second chances when it came to her image.

She turned on her heel, strutting off with the other Cheerios, her head held high like she owned the place. Finn watched her go, the clack of her shoes on the floor echoing in his ears. The tension in the air lingered long after she'd disappeared down the hallway, but Finn quickly shook it off.

He had bigger things to focus on. Taking a deep breath, he headed toward the locker room, the buzz of adrenaline starting to replace the knot in his stomach. Whatever just happened with Quinn—whatever weird, tense moment that had been—it wasn't important right now. He had practice to get ready for. He had to clear his head of this weird day.