Feelings
They wouldn't know it but Quinn Fabray harbors a secret. Something the entire student body of William Mckinley High School will never know. She actually feels something for another person. No it's not just some silly feeling she makes out to be love as she manipulates and schemes to become prom queen. It's something deeper and much more twisted than that. Quinn herself isn't quite sure what to make of it. She dances around this person, watching from afar. She doesn't really know when it all began. Okay, she does. It started when she first set eyes on Rachel Berry.
. . . . .
The first day of freshman year proud Cheerio Quinn Fabray arrogantly strolls in the hallways of her high school with a proud smirk on her face. But then she pauses as she sees one person. She's a short brunette with a stunning body (those thighs just seem to go on forever) and an atrocious taste in clothing. Argyle knee socks with a meerkat sweater? No, just no. But what attracts Quinn is her hundred kilowatt smile. The proud way that the girl handles herself with her head held high and eyes lit with burning ambition. It attracts her like a moth to a flame. Is that what she looks like, Quinn wonders to herself, when she thinks about her rising status in the social ladder or becoming prom queen and demurely accepting her crown? She doesn't realize at first but she's walking forward, inching towards this girl that fascinates and repulses her.
The moment is broken by red liquid spattering against Rachel's face and uproarious laughter bubbling from everyone's lips.
"She's such a loser, isn't she?" sneers Quinn's best friend Santana, a girl she's known since she had an attention span.
"Like totally," Brittany affirms quietly, pinky linked with the latina.
Quinn stares at the defeated figure as she scurries down the hallway, face in her hands.
"Y-yeah, a total loser."
. . . . .
Her feelings just get worse from there. She catches herself glancing at Rachel constantly, checking to see if the girl is looking at her when she cheers or when she's ambling arrogantly down the hallway. And she is even more besotted when she hears the girl sing. Time stops and Quinn forgets that she is a good Conservative Christian girl. She just wants to bask in the angelic voice and forget everything.
That's why, to protect herself from the siren's call she gets arm candy. Dopey Finn Hudson, head quarterback. He's sweet albeit a little slow and she doesn't pay attention to Rachel quite as much.
Quinn is too busy fawning over Finn, kissing him in the hallways and smirking at the student body. She's Quinn Fabray, the girl you want desperately to be.
But when she gets home and slinks into her room she slouches her always straight shoulders, wipes the smirk from her face and pulls the pony tail from her hair. In the room, in the quiet of her own thoughts she's just Quinn, a girl who's a bit too ambitious and bitchy for her own good. Sometimes she hugs a stuffed animal to her chest and savors the moments from childhood when she could just make everything go away by closing her eyes. No more pressure, no more ambition, no more feelings. She just wants everything to disappear.
. . . . .
Out of all the horrible things she's done (and she knows that she might beat out Santana in her bitchery) the worst is probably her treatment of Rachel. Quinn shudders internally each time she says a snide remark about the girl who cannot be beaten verbally or physically Sometimes Quinn has to rush to the bathroom and grip the sink so hard that her knuckles go white. She bows her head and stares into the porcelain sink waiting for an answer to how she should act, how she should react to her tumultuous emotions. She gets no response.
. . . . .
When she gets pregnant she sees it all slip beautifully from her fingers. She actually laughs when she stares at the little plus sign. Because she had slept with the wrong Jew and had been feeling gay that day.
. . . . .
Finn . . . Puck . . . they're both important to her but nothing can compare to the way Rachel makes her feel. Glee club just makes it worse. When she sees that passion burn in the brunette's eyes she feels an unwanted adoring smile creep into her face. And just for a little while Rachel's voice makes her forget everything except for the rhythmic sound of peace coming from a girl who just wants to be a star.
. . . . .
When the birth is over and she is gone it takes everything not to break down. Her daughter is gone. Her flesh and blood was willingly given away to some woman who couldn't even care for and love her own daughter. Quinn tosses and turns at night thinking, wishing, regretting. She wants Rachel so bad that sometimes she tastes blood from biting her cheek so hard to keep the sobs from bubbling out.
. . . . .
So she keeps making mistakes. First Puck who seduced her with wine coolers and strong arms (though she yearned for slim ones and the voice of an angel), then Sam with his gentle nerdiness and his obsession for popularity that occasionally rivaled hers, and finally Finn who had changed so much since freshman year. She no longer sees the gentle boy when she glances at him. She sees an arrogant jock who has learned nothing at all. His ignorance infuriates her yet at the same time it makes her realize they are the perfect match. Two reputation obsessed hypocrites. They are practically made for each other.
. . . . .
Sometimes when she watches Rachel smile and laugh as she jokes with Kurt and Mercedes or when she catches an adorable pout form when Rachel is barred from a solo that could make or break her future Broadway career Quinn feels something at the pitt of her stomach. She doesn't deserve it and neither does Rachel. And she know it isn't love. It just . . . can't be.
. . . . .
The first day of freshman year proud Cheerio Quinn Fabray arrogantly strolls in the hallways of her high school with a proud smirk on her face. But then she pauses as she sees one person. She's a short brunette with a stunning body (those thighs just seem to go on forever) and an atrocious taste in clothing. Argyle knee socks with a meerkat sweater? No, just no. But what attracts Quinn is her hundred kilowatt smile. The proud way that the girl handles herself with her head held high and eyes lit with burning ambition. It attracts her like a moth to a flame. Is that what she looks like, Quinn wonders to herself, when she thinks about her rising status in the social ladder or becoming prom queen and demurely accepting her crown? She doesn't realize at first but she's walking forward, inching towards this girl that fascinates and repulses her.
The moment is broken by red liquid spattering against Rachel's face and uproarious laughter bubbling from everyone's lips.
"She's such a loser, isn't she?" sneers Quinn's best friend Santana, a girl she's known since she had an attention span.
"Like totally," Brittany affirms quietly, pinky linked with the latina.
Quinn stares at the defeated figure as she scurries down the hallway, face in her hands.
"Y-yeah, a total loser."
. . . . .
Her feelings just get worse from there. She catches herself glancing at Rachel constantly, checking to see if the girl is looking at her when she cheers or when she's ambling arrogantly down the hallway. And she is even more besotted when she hears the girl sing. Time stops and Quinn forgets that she is a good Conservative Christian girl. She just wants to bask in the angelic voice and forget everything.
That's why, to protect herself from the siren's call she gets arm candy. Dopey Finn Hudson, head quarterback. He's sweet albeit a little slow and she doesn't pay attention to Rachel quite as much.
Quinn is too busy fawning over Finn, kissing him in the hallways and smirking at the student body. She's Quinn Fabray, the girl you want desperately to be.
But when she gets home and slinks into her room she slouches her always straight shoulders, wipes the smirk from her face and pulls the pony tail from her hair. In the room, in the quiet of her own thoughts she's just Quinn, a girl who's a bit too ambitious and bitchy for her own good. Sometimes she hugs a stuffed animal to her chest and savors the moments from childhood when she could just make everything go away by closing her eyes. No more pressure, no more ambition, no more feelings. She just wants everything to disappear.
. . . . .
Out of all the horrible things she's done (and she knows that she might beat out Santana in her bitchery) the worst is probably her treatment of Rachel. Quinn shudders internally each time she says a snide remark about the girl who cannot be beaten verbally or physically Sometimes Quinn has to rush to the bathroom and grip the sink so hard that her knuckles go white. She bows her head and stares into the porcelain sink waiting for an answer to how she should act, how she should react to her tumultuous emotions. She gets no response.
. . . . .
When she gets pregnant she sees it all slip beautifully from her fingers. She actually laughs when she stares at the little plus sign. Because she had slept with the wrong Jew and had been feeling gay that day.
. . . . .
Finn . . . Puck . . . they're both important to her but nothing can compare to the way Rachel makes her feel. Glee club just makes it worse. When she sees that passion burn in the brunette's eyes she feels an unwanted adoring smile creep into her face. And just for a little while Rachel's voice makes her forget everything except for the rhythmic sound of peace coming from a girl who just wants to be a star.
. . . . .
When the birth is over and she is gone it takes everything not to break down. Her daughter is gone. Her flesh and blood was willingly given away to some woman who couldn't even care for and love her own daughter. Quinn tosses and turns at night thinking, wishing, regretting. She wants Rachel so bad that sometimes she tastes blood from biting her cheek so hard to keep the sobs from bubbling out.
. . . . .
So she keeps making mistakes. First Puck who seduced her with wine coolers and strong arms (though she yearned for slim ones and the voice of an angel), then Sam with his gentle nerdiness and his obsession for popularity that occasionally rivaled hers, and finally Finn who had changed so much since freshman year. She no longer sees the gentle boy when she glances at him. She sees an arrogant jock who has learned nothing at all. His ignorance infuriates her yet at the same time it makes her realize they are the perfect match. Two reputation obsessed hypocrites. They are practically made for each other.
. . . . .
Sometimes when she watches Rachel smile and laugh as she jokes with Kurt and Mercedes or when she catches an adorable pout form when Rachel is barred from a solo that could make or break her future Broadway career Quinn feels something at the pitt of her stomach. She doesn't deserve it and neither does Rachel. And she know it isn't love. It just . . . can't be.