Blaine kept one hand on the steering wheel and one hand over his mouth.

"Do you have to use your hairspray in the car?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Do I complain that your hair gel leaves stains on my Egyptian cotton pillow cases? Just, bear with me, people."

With her arm around her son, Rachel smiled in the back seat. "I've missed this."

"The smell of cancerous chemicals?" asks Blaine.

"No," Rachel laughs, "Ohio. I love New York, but this – this is home."

"Mm," said Kurt as they passed a diner with a flashing neon sign saying 'Deep Fried Friday', "It sure is."

Finn stared out of the window in the back seat. He knew what Rachel meant. He felt nostalgic as he watched a group of tipsy teenagers stroll by, celebrating a great football game.

"Are we there yet?" asked Christopher.

Finn and Rachel looked at the little boy in between them. He was getting tired and fidgety. The juice boxes in Rachel's oversized purse had stopped holding off the boredom.

"You're in luck, little dude. We're here," said Blaine, driving the rental car down a suburb of pastel colored houses.

Christopher perked up and leaned over his mother to stare out at the little houses he only ever got to see when they were snow-capped at the holidays.

"Christopher, sit down," his mother urged as they pulled up to the Hummel residence.

A mere few seconds after they exited the car, Carole came out of the house squealing in one of her husband's football jerseys and a comfy pair of sweatpants.

"Grandma!" exclaimed Christopher, who was whisked into a tight hug.

"Nice to see you guys," said Burt, following Carole out and hugging Kurt and Blaine at the same time.

As Finn pulled Rachel's many suitcases out of the trunk, Rachel turned around to see a familiar face get out of a car across the street.

Rachel waved and skipped across the street to her old friend.

"Tina!" she exclaimed, and held her shoulders at arm's length. "Look at you!"

Tina blushed. She was wearing a flowing black blouse that draped over her large baby bump.

"Do you know the sex yet?" asked Rachel.

"We want to keep it a surprise."

Rachel nodded. She'd kept her own son's sex a surprise. She'd liked the suspense of not knowing whether she'd be holding a little Christopher or a little Barbra in her arms until she actually was.

"Are you going to the reunion tonight?" asked Rachel.

Tina nodded. "Definitely. Do you know if anyone else is coming?"

Rachel shook her head, wondering the same thing.

"Anyways, it's been nice to see you, but I better get back to the house. Burt and Carole are making dinner."

"Of course. Tell everyone I said 'hi'. And I'll see you guys tonight."

Rachel nodded and waved goodbye before trotting back to the Hummel house.

As it was every Christmas, the house was warm and cozy and smelled like Burt's cooking.

"Do you need any help, Burt?" asked Blaine.

"No, no, you just take a seat with the rest of the guys," Burt insisted.

Kurt had taught his dad all he knew about cooking when he was in high school, and when they left for New York after graduation, Burt took it on as a passionate hobby, and his meals soon became famous at family gatherings.

Blaine took a seat at the dining room table beside Kurt as Burt and Carole laid out dinner plates of Burt's famous lasagna for everyone.

Rachel poked hers with a fork and saw that her minced meat was substituted with steamed, ground broccoli and there was no cheese on top.

"Thank you, Burt, this looks lovely," she said gratefully.

Burt nodded. "No problem. I hope you don't mind, I made Christopher regular meat lasagna. Wasn't sure if you'd put him on your rabbit food diet or not," he said, taking a seat beside Carole.

Rachel smirked and rolled her eyes. Her father-in-law was always teasing her about her vegan lifestyle, but never failed to make a meatless, dairy-less dish for her.

As the Hummels and the Hudsons dug in to dinner, a woman on the other side of town was refusing hers.

"Are you sure you don't want to eat something?" asked Judy.

Quinn shook her head at the steak and salad Judy prepared.

"I'm just going to go get ready for the reunion, okay?" said Quinn, "You can throw mine out."

Judy looked disappointed as she left Quinn's dinner beside the sink. Sam almost wanted to apologize for his wife's indifference. "This looks great, Judy," he said, and dug into his dinner.

Judy smiled. "Thank you, Samuel."

Quinn marched upstairs to her old bedroom where she and Sam would be staying. She hated this house; the memories here. She'd wanted to spend this night at a hotel, but Judy had insisted that she stayed here. Sam had agreed, making Quinn feel bad that her mother was always alone in that big house. Sam had been saying a lot of things she didn't want to hear lately.

"I think moving back to Lima would be good for all of us," she remembers Sam arguing.

"How would that be good for anyone? I hated it there. I spent my life dreaming of leaving it!"

Sam shook his head. "You concentrate too much on all the bad stuff. Don't you remember all the good stuff in Lima?"

"Like what, Sam? Puck? Finn? How shallow I was? I much I hated myself? The baby I had!"

She never normally talked about Beth. She regretted bringing it up the moment she'd said it. But there was too many bad memories tied to Lima. So many things she wanted to forget.

She sat down at the vanity table that had been in her room since she was a little girl. She used to sit at the mirror and comb her fine fair hair and apply her mother's reddest lipstick with more precision than any kindergartener could wish for, and she would tell herself she was the most beautiful princess in the world. In high school, she would sit there in her cheerleading uniform, curling her ponytail and telling herself that she was the most powerful woman in history. Now, she just sat there staring at her reflection, wondering, what are you so afraid of?

"Are you okay?"

Quinn captured her composure as Sam entered the room, and began dusting her eyes with eye shadow.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten anything all day?"

"Don't be dramatic. I had a bagel and coffee this morning."

"Quinn-"

"Don't. I don't want to talk about it."

"We could be happy here if you could just get some closure on things. I want you to talk to Puckerman tonight."

Quinn scoffed. "You think one night talking to Puck is going to make me forget my past and move to Lima? Why do you want to come back here, anyways?"

"I feel like it would be better for all of us. I could work here, no problem. And L.A…It's great, I just think Ashley would be better off going to school here."

"What about my career?"

"You hate your career."

Quinn stared at his reflection in the mirror. "What makes you think I hate my career?"

"I know you, Quinn. I know you better than anyone. Modeling doesn't make you happy. It's what you've done all your life; try to prove to yourself that you're beautiful. But you already know you are. You need to prove to yourself that you're beautiful inside, because that's the only thing you think is lacking."

Quinn looked down at her hands. Sometimes it was chilling how well Sam knew her, especially when he usually seemed so oblivious.

"I just want us to be happy like we were when we were here."

Quinn sighed and started to brush bronzer along her face. "We're not in high school, anymore."

"Maybe you're right."

It was surreal seeing the hallway of McKinley High again. It was like he'd never left. There were the beige and pea green lockers and the weathered linoleum floors.

"So this is where you spent your teen years," said Clover, pushing his wheelchair slowly towards the gymnasium where everyone was heading.

Artie nodded, remembering how unpopular he was back then.

"Artie!"

He was greeted as soon as he arrived.

He smiled up at the fabulous woman that was his old friend, Mercedes Jones. Mercedes leaned over and hugged him.

"Look at you, girl," he smiled. Mercedes shrugged, but even she had to admit, she looked fabulous. Curvy and proud in a burgundy dress and charcoal gray leather jacket, she looked like the star that she was.

Mercedes stood up straight and smiled at the pretty little redhead pushing Artie's wheelchair.

"You must be Clover," she said.

Clover blushed, and Artie laughed. To Artie, Mercedes was a friend. To Clover, Mercedes was a star. The entire of Lima had watched their girl get kicked off of American Idol on an early round only to come back on top with a debut album called Lady Fabulous.

Mercedes gave Clover a quick hug, but her eyes had been drawn to the blond and beautiful Evans family entering the gym.

Mercedes wasn't the only star. Quinn Evans was a few fragrance commercials away from being a supermodel. Mercedes had bought her issue of Vogue. Every shot was poised and perfect, like Quinn.

Mercedes walked over and hugged her old friend.

"Quinn, how are you?"

"I'm great," Quinn said in her usual tired voice, "What about you?"

Rachel held Finn's arm and watched familiar faces great each other. All of a sudden, she felt uncharacteristically shy.

"Finn, I'm going to the bathroom."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Uh, OK."

Rachel left the gym again and walked to the girls' room as quickly as she could in heels.

She leaned over the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, telling herself again and again how happy she was with her life.

She was a wife and a mother. She loved her family.

After graduating Julliard, she, Blaine and Kurt started their own independent theatre company; Gold Stars. Working there has been the most fulfilling experience of her life, and it's not like it didn't sound impressive.

But could it compete with Quinn or Mercedes? They were the girls she'd always saw as her competition, and here they were, a supermodel and a recording artist.

Hell, she'd even talked to Carole on the phone and heard her raving about Brittany and Santana's success as fashion designers.

Rachel had always planned as a teenager that by this reunion she would already be a Broadway star. Not that her dreams were dashed or anything. They were just going in a new direction.

Rachel laughed at her own train of thinking. New Directions, she thought to herself…

She heard a toilet flushing in a cubicle behind her, and she straightened up and began to tidy her hair.

A young girl came out of the bathroom; a freshman at the most.

She started to wash her hands at the sink beside Rachel. Before she turned away to blow dry her wet hands, she looked up from beneath her blond bangs.

"Are-Are you…?"

"Yes?" Rachel turned to the small girl.

"Are you Rachel Berry?"

Rachel was taken aback, but smiled widely. She'd never been recognized by a stranger before.

"Yes, I am. How do you know?"

The girl smiled and quickly dried her hands off with a paper towel.

"Your picture is hung up in the choir room, with the rest of your glee club. You were the first class to win Nationals," the girl said.

Rachel's heart warmed at the look of admiration in the girl brilliant blue eyes.

"That's right. Are you a member of New Directions?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah, I just started this year. I love it."

Rachel grinned. "Is it still as uncool as it was back then?"

The girl shrugged. "I don't think so. Mr. Schuester always tells how you guys got bullied, but glee club made you feel special. Well, I don't get bullied or anything, but glee club is the best part of my day. New Directions are going to perform tonight. I'm probably not supposed to tell you, but we're performing the songs that helped you win."

Rachel nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. The songs she wrote. The songs she poured her heart into. "That sounds wonderful. I should get back to the crowd, but it's nice to meet you, um…"

The girl shook Rachel's hand. "Beth."

Rachel shook the girls hand slowly, wide-eyed. "Beth…" she repeated. "Nice to meet you, Beth."

Was that a coincidence? Rachel wondered as she hurried back to the gym, or was that Quinn's daughter…?

Rachel didn't know what to think, but she did know one thing. She was Rachel Berry, and she was fabulous.

At last, Quinn has escaped the groups of old friends, former cheerleaders and secret admirers fawning over her to talk to the one person she'd promised herself and Sam to talk to tonight.

And there he was, by the punch, without his girlfriend for once that night.

He's probably already spiked it, she mused to herself, before remembering that she hasn't seen Puck in twelve years, and he's probably matured since then.

He looked her up and down with soft eyes when he saw her.

"Hey Fabray, heads up, I spiked the punch."

Nope.

"It's Evans now," she corrected.

He grinned. "That's right. Congratulations."

Quinn felt bad that she'd eloped. She should've had a normal wedding and given her friends and family a reason to visit her in California.

"Puck, there's a reason why I was so eager to escape Lima when we graduated. Why I've never come back."

Puck raised his eyebrow. "Well, you've been…busy."

Quinn laughed and shook her head. "Busy for Tina's wedding. For Rachel's. For Artie's. The only ones I've seen since we graduated is Santana and Brittany, and that's because we live in the same state."

"What is it, Quinn?"

Quinn looked down at her hands and walked in close to Puck. "Puck…I'm afraid of seeing her. Of seeing her at a school or on the street or at Breadstix. I'm afraid of wanting her back."

Puck smiled sadly, and took Quinn's hand in his. "I want to show you something."

"If you want, Lady Kisses can send you a box of free clothes."

"That's awfully nice of you, Brittany, but you guys design women's attire," Kurt replied.

"Oh please, and you're telling me you found that blouse in the men's section," Santana sneered and wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's trim waist.

Hovering at Kurt's side, Blaine grinned. "Strangely enough, Santana, I've missed you."

"Who hasn't?" Santana grinned playfully, "And anyways, Brittany and I started designing a line for pretty little gay boys like you. We were going to ask you to model it."

Kurt's eyes widened, pleasantly surprised, before he felt a heavy tapping on his shoulder. He turned around and blinked a few times to prepare for what he was seeing.

Karofsky.

He hadn't seen him since…Well, obviously since high school…

"Kurt…I was wondering if I could talk to you," he asked.

Kurt looked back to Blaine, speechless, Blaine simply nodded and mouthed, 'Courage' as he turned away to continue talking with Brittany and Santana.

"Um, yes, Dave…"

Karofsky laughed nervously. "Good, you remember me."

"Of course I remember you…"

"Right. No, of course. Look this isn't easy for me. Or you either, probably. But I'm getting better at this. Sorting out my feelings. Expressing myself with my words. And, I don't know if you could ever forgive me, or if you even care anymore, but I was more than horrible to you in high school. I mean, hell, I drive you out of the place. And you might not believe me, but I've always hated myself for it. I guess I'm just trying to say sorry, and, thank you."

"Thank you…?"

"For helping me, Kurt. I mean, I know you won't believe me, but I respected you. Or at least, now I do. I realized that you were the strong one, and I was the coward. And if you could do it, than I should have the courage to come out."

Kurt blinked. "Well, good. I mean, I'm happy for you. That you've…come out," he said, still not quite believing what was happening.

"Yeah. It's actually been great since then. Relieving and…fulfilling," Dave turned around and called out, "Z!"

Kurt's mouth dropped open as Azimio strolled over with a cup of punch, and Dave put his arm around his shoulders.

"Kurt! Wow, great to see you…" said Azimio.

"…Yeah."

"I'm sure this guy has already apologized for the both of us. But, still, I'm sorry about how we treated you in high school. We almost feel, though, that if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be together today."

Dave beamed at his boyfriend, and looked back at Kurt. "We just want you to know how sorry we are, and how happy we are now. We're adopting a child!"

"He should be here next week," said Azimio.

"We wanted to apologize to you so that we could raise our son with a clean conscious and teach him the things that you taught us."

Kurt was speechless. He couldn't do anything but stand there gaping at the two of them.

"Anyways, thank you," said Dave, walking away with his arm around Azimio.

Kurt watched them walk away until Blaine came up behind him and slipped his arm around his waist.

"So two former homophobes are adopting a child together, and why can't we, again?" he asked, not being able to contain a smile.

Kurt frowned. "We're not having that conversation again."

"Where are you taking me, Puckerman?" she sighed, as Puck led her down the familiar halls of McKinley.

She didn't need an answer. She knew where they were.

They peeked around the door to the choir room.

"This is New Directions," he said.

Quinn gawked at the bunch of kids practicing something. There were at least twenty of them. It's certainly more popular than it was when I was in high school, she thought.

Quinn wanted to run and hug Mr. Schuester when she saw him throwing directions at the kids, but she stayed quiet since she and Puck weren't supposed to be there. Mike. There he was, correcting a kid who got one dance move wrong. Apparently he was now the co-leader of glee, focusing on the dancing while Mr. Schuester takes care of the singing.

Quinn smiled. It was perfect.

She listened to the familiar piano melody and made a small gasp. This was their song. Her heart swelled as the future generation practiced Loser Like Me.

She looked at all the enthusiastic kids in red shirts, and her eyes stopped on one small blond girl. With another girl, she was singing the part originally sung by their old friend Rachel Berry. And she was good…Very good…

"That's her, Quinn. That's Beth," said Puck, pointing at the blond girl.

Quinn knew it before he told her. There she sang with fair hair and hazel eyes. It was her. She was beautiful.

She watched her laugh with her friends as the song came to an end. There she was, probably fourteen or fifteen years old, wearing an expensive charm bracelet, her hands moving in enthusiastic gestures she must've picked up from whomever adopted her. Her and her friends giggled about inside jokes and chatted about songs they wanted to sing for glee, and movies they wanted to see at the weekend.

There she stood with a life of her own and a taste of her own and everything she believed in and wanted to be.

Quinn wasn't a part of that. She began to calm as she realized that she had nothing to do with who this young woman was now.

Quinn pulled Puck back away from the choir room.

"I coach football here at McKinley," he said.

"Oh…"

"Coach Beiste got a job coaching the Buckeyes, so I replaced her. I almost quit when I found out that Beth was starting high school here, but it's OK. It's better this way. I can look after her. I can be a part of her life with being her dad. Because I'm not…not really."

Quinn nodded. She understood exactly what he meant.

"Thank you, Noah. I needed to see this."

Puck nodded, and smiled. "I just thought you'd forgotten about Lima. With your modeling and everything."

Quinn shook her head. "I could never forget about Lima."

Puck shrugged. "Coach Sylvester is supposed to be retiring, but she's personally looking for her replacement. She wanted you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. She really liked you, I guess. At least, she thinks you're the best person for the job. But no one thought you'd want to give up your career as a supermodel to coach a bunch of cheerleaders. I mean, I'm sure you're happy in California."

"Yeah…"

Sam was starting to worry about his wife's whereabouts.

Everyone was taking a seat and pretending to listen to old Figgins.

Sam sat up as he saw Quinn walk back into the gym with Puckerman and take her seat beside him. He didn't asked questions, and decided to assume the talk went well went she smiled and squeezed his hand.

"And now I would like to introduce to you, New Directions, with a tribute to glee club's first winning performance."

A round of applause echoed through the gym as the twenty or so members of the glee club got in a crowd on stage.

Quinn's heart leapt as small blond Beth made her way to the front.

"We'd like to honor the past members of New Directions in attendance with their winning performance an original song, Loser Like Me," she said, and joined another girl to start singing.

"That's her, Sam."

Sam looked to Beth, and back at Quinn. "What? That's…Beth?"

Sam looked to the young girl. She did bear a striking resemblance to Quinn.

You may say that I'm a zero

But hey, everyone you want to be

Probably started off like me

Quinn nodded. "She's not my daughter, Sam. I mean, she is but…What I'm trying to say is, she doesn't belong to me, and I shouldn't be afraid to see her, because I didn't raise her to be who she is now. I wasn't the one to give her her traits and her tastes and her mannerisms. She's not my child. Ashley is my child, and it's my responsibility to raise her right, and I think that she'd grow up to be an amazing person in Lima."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

Quinn nodded. "Lime is different than it used to be. I know that now. Look at them, Sam. Look at how happy they are. How spirited. Ashley deserves to be that happy. We deserve to be happy."

Quinn and Sam looked up at the enthusiastic group of young performers. They could see their daughter on that stage some day.

You wanna be

You wanna be

A loser like me

"Go Wes Brody!" they heard Brittany shout as a Brittany's sister and her boyfriend Wes started to sing the second verse.

I'm not thinking about you haters

Cos hey I could be a superstar

I'll see you when you wash my car

The song eventually ended to a round of applause as Beth Corcoran stood in front of them again.

"Thank you. For our last song, I'd like to take the stage with Stephanie Pierce to honor our inspiration, Rachel Berry, with an original song she wrote," said Beth.

Rachel put her hand to her chest and looked at Finn as the girls began to sing.

Just this was enough recognition to let her feel more than adequate next to Quinn or Mercedes or anyone else.

What can you do when your good isn't good enough?

When all that you touch tumbles down?

Kurt smiled up at the two girls singing Rachel's song.

"They're really good," he whispered to Blaine.

Blaine grinned. "We could teach our son or daughter to sing like that."

Kurt only rolled his eyes as the girls continued to sing.

Oh how many times will it take for me to get it right?

Brittany slipped her hand into Santana's and put her head on her shoulder and listened to her sister sing the song that sounded strangely familiar.

I just have to stay and face my mistakes

But if I get stronger and wiser

I'll get through this

Lauren turned to her boyfriend and smiled, seeing his eyes light up as his daughter sang. She'd wait til tonight to tell him she was pregnant.

Just want to fix it somehow

But how many times will it take

Oh how many times will it take for me

To get it right

Rachel's eyed widened in sudden inspiration. She knew what Gold Stars should produce next. A high school comedy musical; an underdog story. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it sooner. She could see it now, on its premiere, the title of their original play in lights. New Directions.

But how many will it take

Oh how many times will it take

To get it right

To get it right