Beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself

…

The first time Jesse St. James laid his eyes on Quinn Fabray, she was dancing on stage during Sectionals. He hadn't thought twice about her, only that she was uncommonly pretty and she moved well. But she didn't have a solo, the only thing that would really catch Jesse's attention.

Rachel Berry, however, did. She sang her heart out, like a little Barbra. His little Barbra. Jesse knew he had to have her.

And so he did.

…

The first time Quinn Fabray noticed Jesse St. James was much earlier than that, it was when she and Brittany and Santana forced the other members of New Directions over to Carmel so they could hire Vocal Adrenaline's dance coach. That had gone a disaster, with Rachel meeting the female lead, who was puking into a garbage can.

Quinn had spied him from across the sidewalk, her hands tightening her ponytail subconsciously. Jesse was sweating, pulling off his t-shirt to reveal a very toned, very good looking body. Quinn hadn't looked twice, though. Santana pulled her away before she could get a proper look.

They had hired the dance coach on the spot and Quinn forgot all about the good-looking boy.

…

The first time Jesse St. James and Quinn Fabray met was in the auditorium.

He had just transferred, proclaiming his love for Rachel and his newfound loyalty to the New Directions. Quinn didn't buy it, but then again, neither did anyone else. Except Rachel and Mr. Schue, who were both much too forgiving to know he was the enemy and thus spying on them.

Quinn's baby bump was still virtually nonexistent, and she was sitting at the piano, playing a few notes and thinking about how much she had lost. She was trying to find the perfect song for her, the ultimate song to signify who she was.

"Fuck it," Quinn swore, her hands dropping on the keys making a loud boom. She cringed at the sound before getting ready to push herself up.

"Oh please, don't leave on my account." Quinn paused, her eyes drifting over her shoulder. Jesse St. James was sitting in the second row, his feet resting on top of the seat in front of him, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He was grinning, or rather, smirking.

Quinn ignored him, continuing to shimmy her way off the bench. She didn't like his smirk, it was so all-knowing, like he knew a little bit more about her than even she did. Quinn didn't like boys like that. With boys like Jesse St. James, Quinn Fabray didn't have the power. Quinn liked power.

Well, she used to have power, up until the pregnancy fiasco. All she had now was a closet full of baby doll dresses and flats. And no friends. She had Puck and there would always be feeling there, but Quinn wasn't exactly in the mood to be a girlfriend.

"You're the pregnant girl, aren't you?"

The words stung. Was that all she was? The pregnant girl. She was nothing but that. A teenage statistic.

His lip curled in disgust, the famous Fabray rage was boiling inside of her.

"I'll take that as a yes," he continued, and as she made her backstage, she could hear his footsteps up the steps, onto the stage and behind her. Quinn hurried a little faster, moving through the AV club who was painting a few sets.

"You can only ignore me for so long," Jesse laughed, as Quinn came to the door.

"Trust me, I can." Quinn looked over her shoulder at him, for the first time. Her green eyes narrowed dangerously, reminiscent of that deadly cheerio she had once been. The bitch she still was. "Leave me alone, would you?"

Jesse only grinned, looking down into her eyes with a sort of amused but also arrogant snicker. His arm reached by her, brushing lightly against her before pushing open the door. He held it open of her head, "After you."

Quinn sighed dramatically before rushing through the door and down the hallway, as far away from Jesse St. James and his knowing eyes as possible.

…

Jesse liked McKinley. Despite the obvious lack of attention to the Glee Club, he liked quite a few people there. Rachel, for one. And Mr. Schue was pretty cool. He didn't particularly like Hummel, who was currently trying to steal each and every solo he had. And those two cheerleaders were too stupid for his tastes.

There was Quinn Fabray, who Jesse was slightly indifferent toward. Sure, the idea that she was Head Cheerleader, blonde charity ball queen who was knocked up by her boyfriends best friend was all too amusing for him. But there was something else. Maybe it was the way that, beyond all of the suck her life had become, she still wouldn't give him the time of day.

Jesse had always liked a challenge.

…

Quinn hated herself. There wasn't any other way to describe it.

As she sat in the computer in the library, logging in with the glee clubs password and typing up what she thought would surely put Rachel down a few pegs and her up to her original status, Quinn couldn't help but think of how low she sunk.

There was no way it would work.

But Quinn was desperate. So she printed it anyway.

…

"So it was you,"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Quinn shut her locker with a thud, pressing her books against her chest and glaring at him.

Jesse, this time, narrowed his eyes. "Don't play dumb with me Fabray."

"I really don't know what you're talking about," Quinn pushed, defiantly. She almost held her nose in the air as she brushed by him. "And I don't appreciate you calling me dumb St. James."

"Oh cut that act already," Jesse was next to her in the second, steering her toward an open classroom. "I don't give a fuck about the g-list, I just want you to admit it already."

Quinn paused, looking up at him, "Well you're going to be waiting a damn long time. I didn't make the g-list."

A lie, sure, but Quinn liked to see him squirm. Oh how the tables had turned.

"You put me above Hudson,"

"Once again," Quinn reiterated, "I didn't make the g-list."

"Thanks for the compliment Fabray,"

…

Jesse had gone on spring break with his Vocal Adrenaline friends. All he did was plot. Plot his inevitable turn on the New Directions and return to Carmel, where they would undoubtedly win a fourth national title and his name would go down in history.

When he returned, it wasn't Rachel who he say first. Despite the Run Joey Run fiasco, he still forgave her. She may have been a needy, crazy little thing, but she was still his. His girlfriend.

He saw Quinn. She looked miserable. Her baby bump was swelling, and there were bags under her eyes. She was even yelling at Puckerman.

Jesse couldn't help but think she still looked beautiful.

…

Jesse had egged Rachel. Betrayed the team. No one was surprised.

But as Rachel wandered back into the school with egg and tears dripping down her face, something in Quinn snapped. That goddamn asshole.

She was very pregnant, very hormonal, and she was having a very bad day. And some loser was about to take out her rage on that egg wielding fuck.

Quinn stomped out the parking lot, as best as she could with a baby in her belly. Jesse and his team were still hanging out, sitting on their Range Rovers, laughing, like fucking idiots. Quinn trembled with anger.

"St. James!" she screamed as she took her first step toward them. He was sitting on his car, alone, looking less than happy with himself than she expected. Quickly she overlooked it, though.

"Oh look, it's the teen mom! Where's your baby daddy, mommy?"

Quinn ignored them, her attention directed toward Jesse. He looked startled, as if seeing a former blonde cheerleader waddle toward him as fast as she could wasn't a sight he saw everyday. Then again, it probably wasn't.

"Quinn," Jesse breathed, looking at her. "What are you doing-"

And then, the egg that was in her left hand was released, hitting him square in the chest. Quinn didn't feel the sense of relief she thought she would.

"Fuck," she mumbled, "Should of brought more eggs."

Jesse was just staring down at the mess on his shirt. His teammates were just laughing, both and her and at him. "Get out of here guys!" he snarled eventually, to which they responded like loyal dogs, piling into their cars and cruising out of there.

Quinn didn't move. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

"Yeah," he replied, his hand running over the egg on his shirt. "I know."

…

They ran into each other a few times that summer. The first few times, there were a few awkward words exchanged, a few insults on Quinn's part, a few suggestive remarks on Jesse's. The last time, however, went differently. Quinn was spending a lot of time at the Lima Country Club's pool, laying out and tanning and testing to see if people could tell she had stretch marks. They couldn't.

Jesse belonged there, so she wasn't surprised to see him waltz in one afternoon. Quinn was in line buying a slushie, when she caught sight of the mop of brown hair and toned abs. She tried to avoid him, but as she walked around the back of the concessions, he was there.

"Fabray," he sort of sang her last name, his eyes wandering over body. "Looking good."

"Oh shut up Jesse," Quinn countered, trying to brush past him. And then…

His hands were on his face, pulling her to him. His mouth was hot against hers. Quinn dragged her nails across his naked back, moaning into his mouth. Before she knew it, he had shoved her against the wall, taking her hair into his hands and pulling.

Jesse's tongue dived into Quinn's mouth, taking hers and running it over her teeth. She bit his bottom lip, moving her hands up his back until her fingers tangled into his hair. Jesse let out a gruff little grunt. Quinn smirked against him.

"Oh that's how you want to play," he pulled his mouth away from her, pressing short kisses onto her neck, going lower and lower until he rested on her collar bone. His hands were everywhere, her hips, her hair, her face, until they found their resting place on the back strap of her bikini. "Then…"

He fingers pulled at the strings. Quinn, thinking quickly, pushed her hands against his chest, shoving him back. He stumbled a few steps, not able to untie her bikini top. She smirked. "I'm not playing anything."

She tightened the knot, before giving him one last haughty look and brushing past him and out of the pool yard.

Jesse groaned, falling back against the wall and running his fingers through his hair. Who would've known they'd come to this?

…

Quinn hardly thought of him as she rose back to her queen bee status.

She thought it would have given her everything. She'd be happy.

She wasn't. Quinn was the opposite of happy.

Depressed was a better word.

…

Jesse struggled.

Apparently he wasn't the biggest star at UCLA. Apparently there were people better than him. Apparently he didn't belong.

He was miserable, hardly attending classes. He mostly sat up in his dormitory, staring at the walls and rewatching West Side Story until he could recite every line without the sound on.

His roommate was suspicious, "You sure you aren't gay, man?"

"I'm sure," Jesse protested, leaning back against his bed and sighing. "Just depressed."

…

Jesse was back for Thanksgiving, spending it with his Uncle in the Lima district. As he sat on the sofa, watching whatever the football game was of the day, his uncle had yelled to him from the kitchen that Sectionals were the next day.

Jesse didn't pay for a ticket, but schmoozed the manager of the place to allow him to sneak in as the performances were starting and stand at the back. Jesse had connections everywhere.

As he leaned against the wall in the back of the entrance hall, he watched as a very not-so-pregnant Quinn Fabray and a blonde kid he didn't know slip toward the doors. He knew what they were doing, obviously they were singing leads. Jesse almost snorted at the parallelism of it all, of Rachel and Hudson at Regionals the year before.

New Directions really didn't have any new directions.

But Jesse had watched Quinn, the girl he had some sort of hook-up with the summer before, the girl who used to have a baby belly. The girl who now looked like a fucking princess and was also macking with a blonde kid that probably could have been her brother.

Jesse felt possessive.

…

The days went on. Quinn quit Cheerios again. Quinn cheated again. Quinn was with Finn, again.

She lost herself again. Somewhere along the line she was no longer that kind, self-loving person she found during the end of her pregnancy. That girl was gone. Quinn was someone else, the complete opposite. She had one goal, one motion. Prom Queen. No one would stand in her way.

…

Jesse was kicked out. They said he had to attend classes. Jesse wasn't too upset, and as he flew back to Ohio there were two young ladies on his mind. The beautiful, captivating Rachel Berry and the mysterious, seemingly always broken Quinn Fabray.

He and Rachel made up almost instantly, singing Rolling in the Deep together was the cherry on top. They had a connection, over the music, over their talent. Jesse liked the girl, used to love her, and still cared a hell of a lot about her.

He asked her to prom, hoping that maybe he'd be able to see the other girl in the process.

…

Quinn and Finn walked into Breadstix, hand-in-hand. Quinn felt beautiful, more beautiful than she had in a very long time. She was Cinderella, she was a princess.

When Finn led her toward Rachel, Sam, and Mercedes, she was shocked to find the perfect mess of floppy brown hair sitting next to the girl she once referenced to as Man Hands and That Thing. Her heart skipped a beat, her stomach flipped. But outwardly she remained calm. Collected. Quinn.

"Hey guys! You look amazing! And don't forget to vote for Hudson-Fabray tonight!" she smiled down at the lot of them. Her eyes landed on Jesse, taking in every detail in such a short moment. His hair, shorter than the last time she saw him, the way he wore a suit. So suave, so sexy, so Jesse. She lingered on him, smiling as he looked up at her, a smirk growing on his face.

"Hey Jesse, what'd you order? Scrambled eggs?" Finn cut off their staring contest, his voice full of animosity and, to Quinn's distaste, jealousy. "I mean I know you usually like them served on peoples heads."

Quinn froze, her eyes shooting to Finn. Those words were not directed as a sort of 'fuck-you-for-betraying-our-team' but rather a 'fuck-you-for-trying-to-fuck-the-girl-I-love'. The girl who wasn't Quinn. Quinn's heart shattered, for the umpteenth time, Quinn's boyfriend loved someone else. Never her. It was never her.

Jesse, however, ignored the giant on Quinn's arm, "Quinn you look stunning. The ghost of Grace Kelly. Let me know if you get tired of your boyfriend stomping on your pretty little feet all night. I'd be more than happy to cut in."

His eyes traveled for Quinn to Finn, who had tensed on Quinn's arm. She smiled at Jesse, trying to give him the most sincere smile possible, even though their relationship had been everything but sincere. Finn eventually tugged on her arm, pulling her away from the table.

…

"I have to go to the bathroom," Quinn pressed her lips against Finn's cheek, slipping away just as Rachel finished her solo. Quinn would be lying to herself and everyone if she didn't notice the way Finn practically fucked Rachel with his eyes the entire time. Quinn would also be lying she if she pretended it didn't bother her. But that one she was doing. Quinn had to hold it out. She had to win queen and the only way that would happen was if she and Finn remained calm and she didn't storm out in a fit of anger.

Which was what her restroom run was for. Or rather, her trip to the choir room. Quinn burst through the door and settled down in her favorite chair, the one of the top row just two from the left. It was her favorite, because every day during her pregnancy she'd sit in that chair and someone would hold her hand. Usually Puck, sometimes Mercedes. All Quinn knew was that it made her feel safe.

She took a deep breath. She was Quinn fucking Fabray, future junior Prom Queen. All she had to do was hold it together for a few more hours, then she was free to dump Finn on his ass. Because she wouldn't need him anymore, she'd be queen and she'd have her future set and she wouldn't need Finn Hudson and his wandering-to-Rachel eyes.

…

Jesse had watched Rachel perform, a smile on his face. She'd come so far, she was so good. Much better than anyone else in the town, in the New Directions. Jesse knew she'd go far, Broadway, movies. Anything. She was too big for Lima.

He snuck away to get some air, maybe have a cigarette. A nasty habit he picked up in California, but it calmed his nerves. Made him feel easy.

"Watch where you're going St. James," Jesse paused, just before he was about to smack right into the future Prom Queen herself. He took a step back, in time to see the smirk forming across the blonde's face.

"Quinn Fabray," Jesse said easily, taking a step to the side. "Shouldn't you be inside about to accept your crown."

"There's still a good hour before the announcement," Quinn replied quietly. "I've still got to perform." Jesse could hear the worry in her voice, the uncertainty. The confidence was gone, the usual thing that flowed from every pour of Quinn's body.

"What are you singing then?" Jesse asked, turning around and forgetting the potential smoke.

Quinn looked down at her feet, "Half of My Heart, by-"

"John Mayer," he finished for her, smiling. "Lovely song."

She shook her head, "I can't really sing it very well, it's a bit out of my range, and it's traditionally sung by a man-"

"I'm sure you'll do wonderfully. Your voice may not be quite as developed as mine, or Rachel's. But it's beautiful. Like a songbird, not caring on the techniques but just the music, getting wrapped into the moment and taking it in, before letting it all go at the end." Jesse paused, then reached for her hand. "Quinn, I-'

She shook her head, taking her hand away. "Thank you Jesse."

…

Finn tried to punch Jesse. Quinn lost Prom Queen. Quinn slapped Rachel.

There was honestly no farther down she could have gone. Unless she got pregnant again, but Quinn was certain that wouldn't be happening soon, especially since Finn dumped her on his way out.

She pinched the tears away as she ran out of the high school, down the steps, and ironically losing one of her heels in the process. It really was turning out to be Cinderella.

But it wasn't a fairy-tale. Quinn wouldn't make up in the morning with Prince Charming to see if the slipper fit. Quinn would wake up in her bed, alone, and full of disappointing memories of the night before. Things never worked out the way they should.

She was finding that she couldn't count on anyone anymore. She couldn't even count on herself. If Quinn couldn't even get elected Prom Queen at McKinley, what could she possible accomplish later in life?

…

When Quinn woke up the next morning, she wasn't surprised to not find a handsome prince sitting next to her bed. However, she was surprised to find a new text message on her cell phone. She quickly scrambled to put on her glasses and reading.

Hey Cinderella I think you forgot your slipper.

She furrowed her brow. The text was from an unknown number, one not stored in her phone.

…

When school started the next week, Quinn found herself friendless again.

She wandered into the auditorium between classes, hoping to find some guidance and a quiet place to think about what her life had become, how she found herself there. She had alienated just about everyone she ever loved, Finn, Puck, Sam. Quinn didn't even have any friends. She was completely and utterly alone.

Quinn sat down in one of the middle rows, crossing her feet at her ankles and staring at the stage.

She felt someone sit down in the seat next to her.

Jesse.

He didn't say anything as she started to cry. Her shoulders shook lightly and silently the tears poured down her face. Instead, he slipped his hand into hers.

It said all that was needed to say.

…

"Fuck you Jesse!" Quinn screamed, throwing her arms into the air and turning around, stomping across the auditorium floor. He had convinced her, rather easily, to allow him to tutor her in performing and singing.

Jesse glared, "Well how about you actually do what I say for once instead of doing the complete opposite! I said look up at the audience, slide your hand up the microphone, not stare at your feet and hold your hands at your sides! It's simple, Quinn, really!"

"Oh shut up already!" she snarled, dropping the mic on the floor. "It's useless already! I'm not a solo singer!"

He shook his head, "You would be if you put any kind of effort into it."

"Bullshit," Quinn shook her head, "Thanks but no thanks. I'm done here."

"Stop being such a drama queen," his hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back to him.

"Please, you're the biggest drama queen I've ever met. And I know Rachel." Quinn replied with a sneer, trying to rip her arm away, but Jesse held her firmly. They were only inches away now, each glaring into the other's eyes.

"Can we just agree we're both dramatic?" Jesse almost whispered, his head leaning forward until his lips were so close to hers that she could feel his breath. Quinn stared at him, then his lips before closing the gap between them.

The next minutes were a blur. Before either knew what was happening, Jesse had Quinn pressed up against the piano, his hands resting on her waist and hers twisted into the back of his hair. Quinn was kissing him fiercely, taking his tongue with hers and trying to pull him as close as possible. He was warm and responding fervently. Jesse's hands moved up and down, and it was a twist of arms and legs as he pushed her on top of the beautiful black piano, not bothering they were in public and the prospect that Brad or Schue or anyone would walk in any moment. It was at the back of their minds.

Quinn moaned, as Jesse slid his hand up her thigh, grazing across the skin slightly and sending shocks through her body. He was moving into dangerous territory, an area that hadn't been explored since Puck and the wine-coolers night. But Quinn didn't care.

Her hands scraped along his back, pulling up on his t-shirt and eventually tossing it on the stage without a second thought. Quinn pressed her hands against his toned stomach, feeling the grooves of his muscles and kissing underneath his jaw. Jesse grunted his response, before his hand moved up even farther. She gasped.

"Jesse," she moaned into his ear as he explored further, taking her with him. Quinn's hips buckled, pressing herself closer to him. He lowered himself, kissing against her jaw line. She could feel him smirk at her response, but she didn't care. Quinn just wanted him, wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her entire life.

…

Three days. Three days later and she was back with Sam.

When Jesse found out, from Santana or Brittany or Tina, he wasn't quite sure, he threw the mic stand on the ground and stomped out of the choir room.

He was astounded at her nerve. They had sex. They fucked in the middle of the auditorium, on the goddamn piano and she had the fucking nerve to get back with the asshole would could have been her fucking twin.

Jesse would not take it lying down.

…

It took Jesse one day to get back with Rachel. He stole her right away from Hudson again. They were cuddling in the choir room, her sitting on his lap and draping her arms around him. Jesse laughed lightly at her jokes, doing his best not to look at the blonde robots who were standing together near the other piano. Quinn's fingers brushed across the top, as if subconsciously she was thinking of the memory.

…

"So this is what it's going to be like, huh?" she snarled, pushing her hands against his chest and shoving, watching as his stumbled back a few steps. She had found him after school in the choir room still, leafing through different sheet music.

He raised his shoulders into the air in mock confusion, "I don't know Q, what is this?"

Her eyes narrowed, her fingers twitched against the hem of her dress. "Nothing," she spat, "This is nothing."

Notes: I can just not give them a happy ending! Because let's be honest, the possibility of St. Fabray working out is slimmer than none. But that's okay, it's fun while it lasted! Anyway, reviews would be amazing and I'll give you lovely kisses!