Epilogue

They say that it's lonely at the top. Rachel Berry can attest to that. Not only is it lonely at the top but it's also cold, dark, and there's a 100% chance of an encounter with a spider. She spins on her heels looking for the boxes of Halloween decor that she's sure she had stashed somewhere in the attic. Her gaze falls upon a box labeled 'NYADA'. It's an old box. It's at least five years old, the years that passed since she graduated NYADA at 22, and contains all the knick knacks she had kept from her time at the prestigious school for Arts and Drama. She knows she mustn't dare even a peek because her Halloween decorating schedule will definitely get messed up. Her feet and hands, her stupid limbs however have a mind of their own. Here, she finds herself rummaging through the contents of the dusty box. There's a portfolio of music sheets, a NYADA Golden Microphone award, her graduation sash (All other graduation paraphernalia are hanging at her parent's house at Lima. Her Dad must've missed this one.), Brody's old NYADA jersey, and then there's a brown leather notebook. Her breathing hitches at the sight. Fingering the edges of the notebook, she debates with herself. She tells herself to leave it there even as she picks it up and carefully opens it. The delicate onion skin paper contains Quinn's elegant scrawl. It's a book of poetry, carefully handwritten. Verses are 'I Love Yous', slanting over and over, one on each page. It's a love letter from a lover before fame and their chosen careers changed their lives.

Quinn Fabray is no longer 'Quinn Fabray' these days. She's known to the world as 'Lucy Quinn', a famous actor for TV and Film. Fingers and toes from both hands and feet won't be enough to count the projects Quinn's been in. Rachel believes Quinn should win an Oscar because she's brilliant but the actor was dubbed as the female Leonardo DiCaprio. The Academy Awards just snub her. It's a great injustice. Rachel must start an anonymous petition or something alike.

"Rachel?!" A booming voice from downstairs jolts her back to the dismal attic. "What's taking you forever?"

"Coming, Handsome." She sing-songs back. Tom is as impatient as an Apple consumer sometimes. The notebook gets tuck between her arm and her body. She grabs a small box within her reach and rushes downstairs.

"Really, Rachel?" Tom peers at the box that's unceremoniously shoved at him. "These are Christmas trinkets." His forehead creases adorably and Rachel smiles with bright eyes. She knows it gets him every time. At last he quit frowning and climbs up the attic himself. "I have to do everything myself, don't I?" He mutters as he disappears behind the attic door.

"Yes." Rachel answers laughingly. The moment he's gone Rachel walks to her spacious living room with every intention of relaxing there but quickly changes her mind. The room is awash in light from the sunlight streaming in from the floor to ceiling window overlooking the beach. It's a seemingly perfect morning to lounge outside, so she grabs a big hat and a pair of sunglasses. She sat on a towel under a huge umbrella and flips through the notebook once again. Maybe, Tom will bring her a tall glass of fruit juice when he sees her lolling about outside. Her days have been good but she misses someone terribly.

It is night time in Prague and Quinn feels the chills running up her arm as she grips the walls tighter to keep her plastered closer to it. She felt his presence for a while now and it's making her blood run cold. She can't believe he followed them here from New York. She was told the police had him locked up and that they were safe. Glancing down, her stomach plummets. If she falls from this height they'll have to scrape her off the ground.

"Little girl..." The voice was like nightmare barely remembered, but utterly terrifying. Quinn closes her eyes shut, unwanted tears falling from her eyes. "Little girl..." The voice is now closer. Quinn sees him cock his head to look at her from inside the window and she screams with a start. The next thing she knows he was hurrying to her and then she's falling… falling… falling…

"CUT!" An abrupt call from the director brings Quinn back to the present.

"Great job, Lucy." Dante, the director, helps Quinn up from her position on the foam she fell on.

"Thank you." She graciously smiles at the bespectacled man. She's known as Lucy Quinn now. It's a huge 'fuck you' to her father that once said she'll be known as a Fabray forever.

"That's a wrap for today. Go home guys. I'll see you all in the flight to the real Prague in three days!" The resounding cheer from Dante's announcement made Quinn smile. They had just pulled an all-nighter and everyone's just about ready to cut a bitch, the bitch being her, if she didn't get that fall in a few takes.

"I was about to snooze inside the fountain." Declares James Gugilio as he falls in step with Quinn to their dressing rooms. "Thanks Luce."

"The fountain was filled with water, Jimmy." Quinn playfully punches the actor that plays her little brother in the film they are shooting.

"Exactly." The younger actor confirms with an easy smile. "Whoa, it's so bright outside! I hate it when we finish an evening scene but have to face the Californian sun after."

Quinn only chuckles, she's just eager to get out of the studio. She's tired, sleepy, and misses her home badly. She's not been home for a full week. Later, in the studio-provided limo ride home she put on sunglasses even though the car has tinted windows. She reclines on the seat because her back is killing her. She knows it's only phantom pain but it's still a bitch. Something is lodged between cushions the behind the seat and it's poking her back. It's a gossip rag. With an exasperated sigh she straightens and looks at the cover.

'Lucy Quinn's Day Out Without Make-Up! Inside are exclusive photos!' Quinn scoffs. Without make-up, her ass. She's had a team of professional makeup artists jazz her up before the exclusive photos were taken. It's a promotional outing for a makeup brand she's endorsing. Another headline catches her eye.

'Pop's love birds, Rachel Berry and Tom G. Maher, caught shopping together!'

"Wrong Irish, Berry." Quinn returns the magazine where she found it and spends the rest of her ride home mooning over Rachel Berry. The petite ball of talent graduated with flying colors at NYADA. She proceeded to star on 'Funny Girl' for a year. She even won a Tony for it. Then, she was casted in a television musical series, the first of its kind, as a popular but snobby high school freshman with a big voice. It's the complete opposite of Rachel in high school but she pulled it off just fine. The show catapulted Rachel into stardom. After the show closed, Rachel released a pop album that sold like pancakes. She's now busy with tours and all things pop stars do. Quinn should know she followed… follows Rachel's rise and falls.

The limo pulls up a block from the actor's house. Quinn thanks the driver; she never gets off in front of her own house. The paps, the rags and all the other showbiz hawks are just relentless. They never found out Quinn's real address. It amuses her greatly. She looks around as she enters her own Prius. She's a ninja, that's what she reads Tumblr calls her, anyway.

The house is quiet when she enters. Her footsteps echoed as she walks around straight to the kitchen. The fridge is full. Santana must've dropped by with groceries. She loves that girl, don't tell Santana that. They've gotten closer since their move to Los Angeles. Quinn regularly sees her along with Mercedes and Puck. Those two actually ended up together. It's ridiculous. They own a club down at Downtown, LA. Puck worked his ass off cleaning pools while Mercedes performs every night at lounges before they had the money to start on their own. Quinn helped with the finances. She's part owner of 'The Lush'.

"Hi, Honey, didn't hear you come in." A tall and blond eye-candy pops up the in kitchen. "What are you doing standing in front of the open fridge?"

Quinn looks down and found herself, indeed, standing in front of an open fridge. "I was thinking of getting water, Greggy."

Greg chuckled lowly and fetches a glass of water for Quinn.

"Thanks, you're an angel."

"You look tired. Wanna cuddle to sleep?" Greg's lop sided grin showed off his dimples.

"Yes. I am badly in need of a cuddle." Quinn opens up her arms and the tall man readily steps inside them. He leans down, wraps his beefy arms under Quinn's, and lifts Quinn up as if she weighs nothing.

It earns a squeak of delight from Quinn. Her laughter intensifies when she feels him walk to and fro with her dangling in his arms. "I don't like this kind of cuddling. Put me down, Greg." She protests half-heartedly.

"Thomas Gregory Maher! Put down my wife this instant!" A radiant Rachel Berry yells at the blond man from her position just outside the kitchen door.

"He was harassing me, Sweetie." Quinn pouts prettily when Tom finally puts her down.

"Aww, you liked it." Tom, also known as Greg in these parts, touches Quinn's nose playfully.

"Yes, I did, you big bear. What were you two up to today?" Quinn walks over to engulf Rachel in a hug. "I missed you, terribly."

"Me too. You have no idea." Rachel burrows into her wife's warmth. "We were going to decorate the house for Halloween but..."

"But, Rachel got distracted by something and I finished the decorating for her." Tom mussed his hair with his big hands. "Say Quinn, can I borrow your Prius popularly known as Rachel's Prius to the baseball game later? Jon and I have a date. It's my prime purpose for coming here but your wife roped me into decorating duties. I can't say no to her, ever." They need to do this to keep the illusion of Tom and Rachel. They are the pop world's hottest 'couple' at the moment and it's helping boost sales for Tom's new album as well as Rachel's book sales. Not to mention it helps the numerous people that worked hard in producing the merchandise. The public loves them, so no harm no foul. Quinn gets her girl at the end of the day anyway.

"I know how you feel, Greg." The two yellow haired people in the room shares a moment, nodding at each other. Quinn tosses the keys to Tom's waiting hands.

"Thanks Quinn. You are the best Berry in the house." Tom ducks through the backdoor, narrowly escaping the orange that Rachel threw after him.

"Best Berry in the house. My Tony begs to differ." Rachel mutters almost to herself. It makes Quinn laugh. Rachel's antics always makes her laugh, long ago it used to make her seethe. She was so stupid.

"Mrs. Rachel Berry, what distracted you from decorating the house?" Quinn gathers Rachel back to her arms once they were alone.

Rachel produced a notebook between them. "This."

"Oh. You found it." Rachel told her that the notebook was lost. She suspected that Rachel threw it away when they broke up after a few months of being away from each other. The pressure got to them. They were too young then to fully commit to each other. They found each other again when Rachel moved to Los Angeles to star in her television musical. It wasn't easy at first but they got through till they finally got married a few months ago. The public may not know that they are married, let alone that they know each other but it doesn't matter. It's none of their business anyway.

"Dad must've placed it inside my NYADA box." Rachel cracks the book open and shows Quinn the contents.

"Oh my gosh, keep that away. You're embarrassing me." Quinn swats at the book teasingly, moving away from Rachel.

"Why, Mrs. Lucy Quinn Berry?" The other Berry slowly advances at her retreating wife. "You are blushing at your own corny attempts at romance?"

"Shut up. I'm sleeping." A chuckling Quinn quickly runs up to their bedroom at the second floor. She locks the door and changes to her usual sleep attire, a pair of cotton shorts and a ratty baseball shirt. She falls into bed ready to succumb into slumber.

"You think you can get away easily?" Rachel is by the door brandishing a key and the leather notebook. She giggles when Quinn groans from the bed. She crawls beside her sleepy wife, book temporarily forgotten. "Yes. You can, because I love you." Rachel drops a kiss on Quinn's cheek and proceeded to be the big spoon. Despite her smaller stature Rachel loves being the big spoon and Quinn, well, Quinn loves cuddles in general.

"I luff few too." Is the muffled response from the obviously conked up Quinn. When Quinn's breathing evens out, Rachel crawls off the bed and picks up the book. Her framed version got smashed by a mover when they moved to the new house in Malibu. Quinn was horrified, she cried for a day. She shoves the book inside a drawer. The book of 'I Love Yous' isn't necessary anymore. Rachel's never going to forget and neither will Quinn.

Not Ever.

Unbetaed. All mistakes are mine.

Au Revoir.