AN: Hello everyone! I am new to the world of Glee fan fiction. Up until this point I have don't nothing but read some of the amazing stories you guys continue to create on here. A couple of days I got this idea for a Faberry story and decided to give it a try. I am and no way shape or form I perfect writer so be gentle with me. All mistakes made are my own…that goes for grammar, spelling and all that good jazz. This story is very much AU because im simple am not great at translating the amazing personalities and what not of the Glee characters as a lot of you writers are. I would very much like to know what you guys think about this fic. So please leave some feedback or drop me a message.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just had an idea and ran with it. The Glee characters are just helping me out.

CHAPTER 1

"Hey!" I don't even bother shutting the apartment door, as I run through the little living room and to the back bedroom, searching out my best friend.

"Hey." I kick the mattress that holds the body of my best friend. "Get up!"

"What Q?" She mumbles and rolls over onto her side, away from me.

"San…" I whine.

"Ugh." Santana whips at her eyes a few times before rolling over to look at me. "Yea?"

"I have a job!" I yell and jump on her.

"Serious?" She asks more alert. She pushes me to the side before slapping me on the shoulder. We are both sitting up next to each other in bed. "Don't mess with me, Quinn."

"No. I'm serious." I grin.

"Okay." She looks at me sternly. "Doing what?"

"Well…um…" I blush in embarrassment. "I'm a …door greeter."

"Door greeter?" Santana burst out laughing.

I can see the humor in it. When you think about a door greeter…the first picture that pops into your head is an old person. Not a freshly 21 year old.

"Hey it's a job." I pout.

"That's too funny." She says after laughing for a good five minutes.

"Whatever." I push her shoulder and get out of bed. Can't leave the apartment door open to long, someone might wonder in. Never know what'll happen. Plus Santana would kick my ass.

When I get out of bed Santana quickly flops back down. She has to be to work in about two hours and wouldn't be able to sleep for the next 10 because she has work and then school right after. A couple of night classes, she swears with her crazy schedule, she still should be able to keep up with.

"Q?" She softly calls out. "I'm proud of you. Good job, kid." I roll my eyes at being called kid. We are the same age.

"Thanks. I'll wake you in a few."

So you're probably wondering what our story is, right? Well here's the quick rundown. Santana and I have been best friends since 3rd grade. There is no one I trust more in this world. We both grew up on the shitty side of town. Our parents made a bunch of bad mistakes that in turn reflected on us. Santana mom wasn't that bad, well except the fact that she goes through boyfriends. Santana parents split when she was 13 and everything seemed to go downhill from there. The boy friends came into the picture along with her mom developing several addictions. Santana practically lived with my family by the time she turned 16.

My family on the other hand is just plan selfish and crazy. Both my parents never really wanted kids. So my older sister and I never really got the attention children should get. Every now and then I might have gotten praised for getting an A at school. If I came home with an F they wouldn't have noticed or cared. There where rear moments that they cared about anyone but themselves. My dad had to get two jobs when I was 9 because my mom got into accident and broke her leg. She continued to have problems with it even when she went back to work, so she stopped working as much. She would stay at home and get on my nerves instead. Have me clean things that never really needed cleaning and other bullshit. She would just use me because I was there. I could never really talk to my parents. They would just tell me to get over what was bothering me and be happy I was allowed to stay in their home. I was always told how costly I were and how much room I was taking up.

The shit really hit the fan when I came out to my mom one day. I had a date with a girl I meet through Santana. When I told Santana I was gay, she just said okay, let's find you a lady. Two years later she was still set me up with girls. Anyway…I was 17 and my mom insisted that I re clean the bath tub because I didn't do it to her liking. I told her I had somewhere I needed to be and didn't have time to revisit the bathroom. Long story short we started to argue, she was asking me where I was going and I was tired of lying. So I just told her I had a date with a girl named Kelly. The next hour I found myself homeless.

Santana and I ended up staying at her house on the nights it was safe and we were sure her mom wasn't going to bring some weirdo home. We stayed at her house and other friends off and on until we graduated. We both had been working little odd jobs throughout high school, so we could prepare for college. Santana hated school but like me, she refused to be like her parents. So we both made sure we stayed on our school work. We weren't the perfect students; in fact we skipped a good amount of school. But we made sure we did enough to be a little above average and receive some scholarships. We both got into the local university and we have a little apartment together. Between the bills and school, things can get a little crazy. Until today I was out of work for six months and we had to find even more government assistant agencies to try to help us pay some of the bills. But I have a job now. Things should be looking up from here.

Two days later: first day after training on the job.

"Welcome to Erin's!" I say with a fake smile on my face.

Erin's is a big ass department store. Kind of like Wal-Mart but not.

"Okay…Quinn." My supervisor Tony pats my shoulder. "Good job. Take lunch."

Tony didn't have to tell me twice. I rushed outside to call Santana and rant about how bad this job sucks and how much I want to quite. She quickly reminded me of the bills we had to pay and how if I wanted that new paint set I would have to work for it. We rarely had money to spend on something we wanted rather than needed so when we did, we had to work real hard for it. Our lives are basically work and school. Every now and then we get a break when we receive the rest of scholarship or grant money that we didn't use at school that quarter. But we are always so cautious about spending because our greats fear is not being able to pay for things we need and ending up homeless or something.

"Excuse me." I look up from my pudding cup, to see a small brunette standing in front of me.

"Yes?" I ask standing from the curb I was sitting on outside in the parking lot of the store.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt but you where the closes and I really need to go." She says rushed. "Can you help me with this?" She pulls her shopping cart into view and gestures to her purse. It seems that the children buckle is locked around her purse handles. I've seen women do it all the time to prevent someone who decides they want to try walking off with their purse from moving as quick.

"Yea sure," I push my pudding cup into her hand and get to work unbuckling her purse. "All done." I grin and take back my pudding cup.

"Thanks." She searches through her purse and presents a nice five dollar bill.

"Are you kidding me?" I laugh.

"What?" She frowns. "I'm just trying to pay you for your assistance. You helped me out while you were taking your break I presume. You worked while not on the clock. I'm just trying to pay you."

"No thanks." I smile and shake my head. She just stares at me. I shrug and scoop some vanilla pudding onto my spoon and continue to eat.

"Okay…" her eyes rake over the top half of my body, looking for my name badge I assume. "Quinn." She smiles. I nod.

"No prob." I chuckle and sit back down on the curb. She simply gives me another smile and walks away. I watch as she gets into a black BMW and drive away.

When I get home from work, Santana is in the living room with books and school papers spread all over the floor. I break her studying to tell her about my day at work. She looks at me like I'm stupid when I finish telling her about the purse girl.

"If you didn't get her number, you should have at least taken the money!"

We both laugh. But now that I think about it, the little brunette was cute.