Reality Check
"Yes it is! You're so frustrating! And that is why you an't write a good song, because you live in this little school girl fantasy of life. Rachel, if you keep looking for that happy ending then you are never going to get it right! . . . So we're done with that and why don't we just return to our work, okay?"
She's shaking as she drags herself back to the piano seat, her hands subtly clutching at her sides, clutching air. Quinn Fabray never cracks. She's a perfect girl, perfect grades, perfect body, perfect perfect perfect. So why does she let her real self show? The confused and self-loathing girl who really wants to escape the cage of Lima, Ohio maybe even more than this girl with the stunning voice and jaw-dropping ambition. The blonde stares at the tiny brunette whose eyes are shining with unshed tears and jaw is trembling.
"No I think I'm going to write this song on my own."
Quinn's jaw clenches as she watches the girl's face breaks and she runs away. Slowly she balls her hands into fists and hangs her head like a shame-faced child. She bites her tongue and exhales sharply. How many times has Rachel Berry been kind to her? How many times has she tried to be friends with her? Quinn absentmindedly wipes at the tears bubbling at her eyes. No. This was for the best. Rachel needed a reality check. Rachel has to get to Broadway. She needs to get into Julliard and live in New York and have a husband and two perfect children and . . . and . . .
Her train of thought is broken as she winces from the jarring cacophony of piano keys being slammed down by her elbows. Angrily she slams her fists onto the ivory keys, eyes hardening in satisfaction as she lets the sharp noises bring her back to reality. Eyes on the prize Fabray. It's not Rachel Berry. It never can be. Prom Queen. Finn Hudson. Real Estate Agent. Misery.
"You did what you had to do. She's better off this way," Quinn mumbles unconvincingly. Rachel has to get away from Finn, Quinn and the rest of the Lima losers. Quinn would rather go through Sophomore year all over again than have Rachel Star Berry fail. Hell no. If that happened then- No. She doesn't care about Rachel Berry at all. She doesn't.
With a sad twitch of her fingers she plays a few notes absentmindedly on the piano. She always loved to play. Quinn smiles softly as she stares at the white and black keys that had always been her escape. She tilts her head back and lets the last of the tears fall. Maybe in some alternate reality she and Rachel would run off to New York together and be a two person band, reckless and happy. Not necessarily succesful or rich but content. Because they have each other.
She chuckles softly and brushes back an errant lock of blonde hair. Sometimes she thinks that fantasies hurt more than reality.
She's shaking as she drags herself back to the piano seat, her hands subtly clutching at her sides, clutching air. Quinn Fabray never cracks. She's a perfect girl, perfect grades, perfect body, perfect perfect perfect. So why does she let her real self show? The confused and self-loathing girl who really wants to escape the cage of Lima, Ohio maybe even more than this girl with the stunning voice and jaw-dropping ambition. The blonde stares at the tiny brunette whose eyes are shining with unshed tears and jaw is trembling.
"No I think I'm going to write this song on my own."
Quinn's jaw clenches as she watches the girl's face breaks and she runs away. Slowly she balls her hands into fists and hangs her head like a shame-faced child. She bites her tongue and exhales sharply. How many times has Rachel Berry been kind to her? How many times has she tried to be friends with her? Quinn absentmindedly wipes at the tears bubbling at her eyes. No. This was for the best. Rachel needed a reality check. Rachel has to get to Broadway. She needs to get into Julliard and live in New York and have a husband and two perfect children and . . . and . . .
Her train of thought is broken as she winces from the jarring cacophony of piano keys being slammed down by her elbows. Angrily she slams her fists onto the ivory keys, eyes hardening in satisfaction as she lets the sharp noises bring her back to reality. Eyes on the prize Fabray. It's not Rachel Berry. It never can be. Prom Queen. Finn Hudson. Real Estate Agent. Misery.
"You did what you had to do. She's better off this way," Quinn mumbles unconvincingly. Rachel has to get away from Finn, Quinn and the rest of the Lima losers. Quinn would rather go through Sophomore year all over again than have Rachel Star Berry fail. Hell no. If that happened then- No. She doesn't care about Rachel Berry at all. She doesn't.
With a sad twitch of her fingers she plays a few notes absentmindedly on the piano. She always loved to play. Quinn smiles softly as she stares at the white and black keys that had always been her escape. She tilts her head back and lets the last of the tears fall. Maybe in some alternate reality she and Rachel would run off to New York together and be a two person band, reckless and happy. Not necessarily succesful or rich but content. Because they have each other.
She chuckles softly and brushes back an errant lock of blonde hair. Sometimes she thinks that fantasies hurt more than reality.