Okay, so this prompt:

Pre-teen!Drizzle successfully breaks up Rachel and Quinn because she wants a normal family. Quinn blames Rachel for the split, Rachel is depressed her daughter doesn't want her and Drizzle regrets everything and is desperate to get her family back. Must include Broadway-Star!Rachel

I stole this off of another writer's post, but forgot where and I have no idea whose prompt it is. So if it's yours and you're reading this, let me know and I'll credit you. Also, this is my first Quinn/Rachel fic so, be nice? Please?

The first chapter are pretty short. They´re more an introduction than anything else. And I should warn you, I´m not the fastest updater... Hope you enjoy anyway!

Rachel's POV

New York, 2022

Being short, or vertically challenged as she likes to put it herself, has never really been a problem. No, really, it hasn't. But then she goes and moves to New York and becomes aware of how infuriatingly annoying it is to not be able to see over a crowd. Or how, in the hustle and bustle of the streets of her beloved Big Apple, people barely seem to notice her. It makes it a lot harder to get people to move out of the way and she needs them to move out of her way! Like now!

Rachel Berry is late. Not just a little late, but a lot late and that just won't do! It doesn't matter that she knows everyone will wait for her to arrive. It doesn't matter that she's the star of the show and she can pretty much come and go as she pleases. What matters is that she always, always, strives for perfection and being late surely isn't within the margins she's set for herself.

It's like high school all over again. Back then it was all about a perfect attendance record, perfect grades, the perfect song choice and choreography, the perfect boyfriend and ultimately, the perfect girlfriend. Momentarily faltering in her step, her stomach clenches and her heart misses a couple of beats when the last thought lingers.

'Not now, Berry! There'll be enough time later tonight to wallow in what once was and never will be again', she reminds herself while unapologetically pushing people out of her way until she finally makes it to the theater.

Glancing up at the marquee, a feeling of pride engulfs her, watching the giant picture of herself up there, her name written underneath it in giant letters. She's the one attracting the audience, the one people come to see and hear. She's living her dream and for now, the feeling that comes with it is enough to drown out all the others. She knows it's only temporary. Knows that every emotion she's been trying to hide will make an appearance once she leaves the stage tonight.

She'll go back to an empty apartment. She will sit on her couch, the one that's too big for just her, too cold to be comfortable. She will pour herself a drink, a stiff one, to numb herself for what she knows is about to come. She'll open one of her dresser drawers and take out a photo album she's been leafing through too many times. And then she'll cry, fix herself another drink before crying some more. She already knows she will wake up tomorrow on that too cold, uncomfortable couch with a sore back and a familiar headache. And then she'll do it all over again, like she's in some kind of twisted remake of Groundhog Day.

But she knows that she's doing the right thing. She's convinced that leaving was the only choice she had. She's convinced that, had she stayed, she would've made all of their lives even more miserable. And all she wants is for them to be happy. It's all she's ever wanted. Of course, she'd always figured that they would be happy together. The three of them against the world, or something like that, and dreams of maybe one day adding to their family, completing it.

They're all she has left now. Dreams of a loving family have replaced her dreams of being the brightest star to ever shine on Broadway. Now that's she's living her childhood dream, she can't help but think what a nightmare it's turning out to be.

But she still knows it's the right to do. To live her life away from her family. After that particular night, she'd been without choice. And so she left.