AN: This is a little rough, but I thought I would submit it and see if there is any interest before I continue. Criticism is welcome, but please try to make it constructive. Please review and tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own glee, spamalot etc

Chapter One – An Unexpected Encounter

Rachel finished applying the last of her makeup and examined herself in the mirror. Gone was the unfashionable, argyle-wearing Rachel Berry from high school –she wore an off the shoulder shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. Long raven hair fell past her shoulders. Flicking said hair back, she turned around and faced the door.

"Kurt! Ready to go? We don't want to be late for our audition!" She walked briskly out the door into the front foyer, tapping her toe impatiently as she waited for her best friend and roommate.

She and Kurt had been best friends since their senior year of high school in Lima, Ohio. They had both been in Glee Club, both won the national championship, and were both accepted into the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts the following year. It was only natural that they rent a small apartment together to keep down costs.

It hadn't always been easy – even Rachel would admit that she could be a tad dramatic and high maintenance at times – but all in all the arrangement had worked well for the three years they had been living in New York City.

A door down the hall slammed shut as an impeccably dressed Kurt Hummel made a beeline for the door.

"Sorry about that, you know how I am about having my hair right for auditions." Kurt looked stylish as usual, in some slimming black pants and a button up shirt and tie.

"Kurt, I don't think I have to tell you that your hair is always perfect. Let's just admit that you spent a few too many minutes admiring yourself in the mirror and lost track of time. Now come on, I looked up the schedule and if we don't catch this bus there won't be another one for 46 minutes, making us approximately 32 minutes late for the auditions." Rachel took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay. Don't start hyperventilating on me – I don't want all this prep to go to waste." Kurt gave her a sideways grin as they left the apartment, careful to lock the door securely behind them. Kurt had already forgotten to lock the door once, and even though nothing went missing Rachel was now firmly convinced that the whole apartment was bugged. Something about exclusive footage that people could sell once her career took off…

A long elevator ride later and short walk later, Kurt and Rachel stood waiting for the bus. They were on their way to try out for a production of Spamalot put on by a group that operated out of NYU. Rachel would be trying out for the role of Lady of the Lake (practically the only female role in the whole production), while Kurt was hoping for Sir Lancelot. Although they had both been in many NYADA productions during their time in New York, roles outside of the academy were much harder to come by, especially from theatre groups with as good of a reputation as the one putting on Spamalot.

Rachel took several deep breaths, attempting to calm herself for her audition. Normally, the diva thrived on performing for an audience. She had most of the Broadway classics in her back pocket, and even though it was little more recent, Spamalot was no exception. Her Dads liked to say that she had started singing before she started talking.

Still, at moments like these she couldn't help but think back to her first botched audition for NYADA during her senior year of high school. Of course, the situation had been entirely different. There were other things on Rachel's mind back in high school that were distracting her from the performance.

What ever happened to my part?
It was exciting at the start.
Now we're halfway through Act 2
And I've had nothing yet to do.

I've been offstage for far too long
It's ages since I had a song.
This is one unhappy Diva
The producer's have deceived her.
There is nothing I can sing from my heart.
Whatever Happened to My Part?

I am sick of my career
Always starting second gear
Up to here, with frustration and with fears.
I've no Grammy no Rewards,
I've no Tony Awards,
I'm Constantly replaced with Britney Spears

Whatever Happened to My Show?
I was a hit, now I don't know.
I'm with a bunch of British Knights,
Prancing 'round in woolly tights.

Quinn was late. She blamed public transit – it was a pain for most New Yorkers, but doubly so for her. Looking at her watch, she decided to send off a quick text to her best friend Chris: Running late, be there in 10. Start without me – Q

She adjusted her beret for the 10th time – a habit she had developed over the last several years. After finally getting off the bus at her desired stop, it only took another 5 minutes to arrive at her destination.

The building wasn't much to look like on the outside, but it was suitable for the purposes of her group – at least, for now. Peeling paint and a tired looking bill board greeted her on her way through the front doors.

Making it down the ramp to the inner entrance she paused for a moment, hearing a voice from inside. It appeared that Chris had taken her at her word. She started to open the door but froze, listening more closely to the voice she had heard before.

I might as well go to the Pub!
They've been out searching for a shrub.
Out shopping for a Bush,
Well they can kiss my Tush!
It seems to me they've really lost the plot…

It was a girl, singing. That wasn't unexpected, but Quinn felt a strange sense of familiarity as she listened to the voice. Only one girl could belt out notes in such a strong, confident, yet perfectly beautiful manner. It couldn't be…could it?

Whatever Happened to My -
I'll Call my Agent, Dammit!
Whatever Happened to My-
Not Yours, Not Yours,
But My,
Part!

Hesitantly, she opening the door and moved down the centre aisle so she could see the stage clearly. It is. There she was - dead centre of the stage, belting out the last note as if her life depended on it. Rachel Berry.

As she finished the last note, Rachel's eyes traveled downward, presumably to gauge the reactions of the production team, who were sitting in the audience. She only made it partway there before her attention was diverted by Quinn, who was still waiting in the centre of the aisle. They locked eyes. Rachel's widened in shock, a look of confusion settling across her face.

"Quinn Fabray?" She half gasped, half whispered.

The blood drained from her face, turning white as a sheet before she fainted dead away.

Quinn, sitting in her wheelchair, could only watch as she fell to the stage.