Hello there, how are you?

I wrote this fic when I was going through a break up, my hardest day and also my happiest day, I kinda left it for months and then started writing it again because my brain and fingers like to joke around with me. I have my final next week and it's my biggest exam yet where it leads me to which college I'll go. I write well (kinda) when I have much important things to do like study but I don't like to do that so yeah. Enjoy, you. Oh yeah, there'll be some drugs issues here.

Also there are tons of songs I used here and I do not own any of them just like I don't own Glee or the characters.

And I noticed that most of my stories that I posted, this site erased some dialogues, words etc. Why does that keep happening to me? The hell did I do wrong.

Spelling and grammar mistakes are all mine because i'm an idiot.

I opened the door quietly, not wanting to wake her up inside. When I walked into our bedroom, I was surprised I didn't meet any darkness but rather a very bright room with the said girl on the bed, face looking down at the floor.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked her as I took off my coat and mittens.

I looked at the girl in front of me, who's crying on the bed with red face. Who's mumbling something? But all I heard was,

"This isn't working out anymore," I swore my heart stop beating and that I couldn't breathe.

She apologized, she closed her eyes as she explained, how hard life is being with me, how she sometimes starved, how she needs to go back to her old life, how she misses the old her, the dreamer, the strong girl. As I watched her, I couldn't help but to think that what she was describing was the older her that I fell in love with. I love her now, but this is different. The girl who's crying in front of me, she's devastated, she's done. She's done with me, with loving me.

My heart ache, I fell down the chair as my eyes filled with salt waters. I looked at the luggage beside the bed, the girl who owns the luggage, who's still explaining. I pushed my hair back and clenched my jaw. My eyes were blurry.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, it's too hard. I'm so sorry," I heard. I'm so afraid to look up so I just stared down the cold wooden old floor. She's giving up.

"Would you look at me, please?" the girl asked, voice shaking. When I refused, she once again pleads. This time I did and I regretted it, because what's in front of me made my heart ache even more. I did that, I caused her to cry like that. It wasn't a loud cry, like a baby, it was a silence tears that made her shivers, and that's what made it worse. I watched as she put her hand on her mouth to prevent the loud noise from coming out.

"Do you hear me?" The girl asked. I just kept staring at her. I opened my mouth to say something, to prevent her from leaving but she looked tired, determined.

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving you here; you don't even care, huh? All you care about is those drugs you do, those drink, huh?" her voice deepened. My knuckles turned red.

"You're going to beat me again? Hurt me again and blame it on the alcohol? The drugs? Come on, beat me. Beat me; hurt me because I'm not coming back. Also, you need to grow up, Quinn. Singing while playing your guitar on the street for money? Looking like a sad, depressed, emo teenager? Grow up, find a real job," she said, mocking me. I clenched my jaw harder.

"I'm leaving you and I'm not coming back," the girl whispered. I looked up at the girl who's standing up with her luggage beside her. I quickly knelt in front of her, my hands gripping her legs, my eyes closed to stop the tears.

"Let go of me," I heard. I gripped harder and shook my head.

"No, please don't go. Please don't leave me. I don't know how to live without you. Please," I finally spoke up. I looked up at her, begging.

"Let go of me," the girl repeated.

"No, please. I'm begging you, I promise I'll change. I promise but please stay,"

"You've said that plenty of times, I'm tired of your excuses. I can't be with you anymore," I once again gripped her legs harder causing her to fell down the bed. When she sat up and trying to get up on her feet, I hugged her. I hugged her hard.

"Don't, please. Don't," I'm good with words, dammit! But I couldn't use it at the moment.

She let go of me and looked inside my eyes. She's searching for something, and she found it. She found honesty, sadness, desperation, fear and love. She looked away.

"I love you. You can't leave me. You love me too, we're going to be together forever, remember?" I whispered, trying to make her look at me.

"I can't. Not anymore," she whispered back.

"But why?" I asked, frustrated.

"I'm not happy. I'm not happy being with you. I'm miserable. I'm scared whenever you came home drunk or high on cocaine that you're going to beat me again, I'm broke, you took the money that I'm supposed to use for my college. I can't be with you. I can't, I'm not happy, I need to achieve my dream and for that to happen, I can't be with you. Not anymore," she cried.

I shut my eyes for a moment.

"I'll change, I promise. I promise you. Just—just don't leave me," I begged.

"I give up, okay? I give up on this life, I don't want this. I don't want you anymore! Don't you get it?" she half yelled. Her words destroyed me. I clenched my fists and looked up. My eyes changed, anger filled my eyes.

"What do you want? I'll do anything. Anything. I'll find a job, I'll stop taking that thing, I'll stop drinking and I'll change okay? Just don't leave me. Please," I said, trying to catch my breath.

"I just don't want you anymore. I'm sick of you. I'm done,"

"Let me fix this. Let me fix us. Please," I begged, trying to hold her hand only to have her pushed me away.

"Is there someone else? You're cheating on me? Is that it? Huh?" I grabbed her wrist.

"Let go of me!" she struggled.

"Tell me! Is it him?" I gripped harder. She slapped my face and pushed me down to the floor. When I got back on my feet, I immediately took her in my embrace.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Just please don't go. I love you," She didn't do anything.

"I love you. I love you. You can't go. I love you. What do you want? I'll do anything. Anything, just don't go. I don't have anything else. I can't afford to lose you," I kissed her cheek, her nose and her lips. She didn't kiss back so I kissed her harder. That caused her to push me.

"I'm sorry. I can't. Not anymore, okay? Not anymore," she finally kissed my lips. We kissed for a few seconds before pulled away, took her luggage and looked down at me who was kneeling on the floor. My eyes were on her, begging, and my body's shaking. I was terrified, for a second I think I couldn't breathe.

"I—how am I supposed to live? You're my life. I promise you I'll change. I promise, give me a chance. I'll prove it to you," I caressed her cheek. She put my hand back down.

"Please," I begged one more time, my hand on my heart, rubbing the pain.

She knelt back in front of me and kissed my cheek.

"You'll be okay,"

"I won't. I'm not okay. Can we at least talk? I'll change. Give me one chance, one last chance. Feel this, feel my heart," I said as I took her hand towards my left chest that was thumping so very fast.

"It hurts so badly right now. You're the one who can heal this. Heal me. I don't like this feeling,"

"You're a strong girl. You'll be fine,"

"I'm weak. Can't you see? I'm dying right now. Talk, let's just talk. Let's fix this. Let me fix this,"

"At least tell me the reason you're leaving me. I deserve that. Tell me why, Rachel,"

"There are too many reasons, Quinn. But the main reason I'm leaving is because I can't live like this anymore. I give up on this life,"

"Well let me fix this life then! I'll make it all better, I promise you!"

She shook her head, picked up her luggage and walked to the door. She took a glanced back at me. I was on a fetus position beside the bed, body still shaking. I was mumbling for her not to leave, to stay. I said I love her over and over. I can tell that her heart ache at the sight because of her breathing but she couldn't take it anymore.

"Goodbye, Quinn," she said before she walked out of our apartment.

I call her. I call her every day. I'm so scared, it's New York, and it's dangerous. Anything could happen to her. To my Rachel.

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

"Rach? Please answer your phone. Please. Where are you? It's cold outside. Come home, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I love you. Please come home, we'll work it out, okay? Give me a chance,"

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

"Hey. Umm it's me again. Why didn't you pick up, Rach? I called you plenty of times. I'm so sorry. Can—can you please come home? I miss you. Just tell me where you are, I'll pick you up. I love you,"

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

"Can you at least let me know if you're okay? It's dangerous out there. I promise I'll change. Just—just please come back. Come back to me, I love you,"

Every day I tried and I'd failed. At one point I just started to leave her message letting her know how I'm doing and always begged her to come back.

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

"I found your music box today. The one I gave you for your birthday. Do you remember it? It's pink, and you wrote our name on it. You could have it back. Just come back home, I really miss you. Life without you is nothing, Rach. Nothing. I love you,"

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

" that lives next door asked me about you. She asked me where you have been. I don't know what to tell her so I said that you're visiting your dads. Where are you, Rach? Please don't do this to me. I love you,"

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

"I love you. Come back home, please,"

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

"I love you,"

She never pick up her phone nor she reply to my messages. There was a time where I wanted to give up but I couldn't. I need her. I haven't eaten for days; I only go to the kitchen when I really need some water. I spent my days walking around the city, trying to find her. I spent my nights wondering around the apartment with a phone on my hand.

"Hello?"

"He—hello,"

"Quinn?"

"Yeah—yeah. Is Rachel there?"

"Why are you calling us, Quinn?"

"Is Rachel there? Can I talk to her? Please."

"Just stay away from my daughter, Quinn."

I walk down the stairs and walk into the dark alley that I already know by heart. She approaches me, always with the same expression.

"The usual?" she asks. I just look at her.

"How many?"

I hand her the money and she counts it.

"Sure that's enough? You look like you need more than that," she says, I didn't reply.

She hands me the package and I walk away.

I open the door and lock it. I tear the package and let the white powder fall down the table. When I sniff it, I feel good again. Not completely but part of me. I don't remember much.

"What up, Q?"

"San?"

"Of course it's me, stupid."

"She—she left, San,"

"She left? What do you mean, Q? Don't play joke on me," Santana says.

"Rachel left me. She's gone, I—I don't know where she's at. I called her, I searched for her but I couldn't find her, San. Please help me, I—I need to know if she's okay,"

"When did this happen?"

"A week ago," she answered.

"And you're telling me this now? Are you stupid, Q?" When Quinn didn't answer her, she calls her name.

"Q?"

"Quinn?"

"What the fuck. Are you deaf, Quinnie?"

"Shit,"

When she arrives and sees that her best friend is lying on the floor.

"Dammit, Q," she feels her pulse and calls 911. When they arrived, she immediately calls Brittany and Judy. She calls Rachel but the girl didn't pick up.

The emergency room is such a mess. It's not crowded but the doctors, the nurses are running. The people waiting are crying, sleeping or just staring at the empty wall. Santana feels scared, nervous. Brittany holds her hand and kisses her cheek.

"San?" Santana looks up.

"Yeah?"

"Where's Rach?" She looks back down.

"Sanny? I asked you a question,"

"She's… they broke up, Britt and Rach left her," Brittany can't believe what Santana just said. They're supposed to be together forever, just like her and Santana. She cries on Santana's shoulder, thinking about how broken Quinn must be.

When the doctor comes out of the room, Santana's the first one to stand up and ask the doctor about Quinn.

"Is she okay?"

"And you are?" the middle-aged doctor asks.

"I'm her best friend. Her mother's on her way,"

"She's fine, she almost didn't make it. She was overdosed with heroin and valium. She's a very lucky girl and a fighter. Don't worry she'll be fine. Right now she's sleeping and you can go in if you like to, just for couple of minutes though,"

"Thank you. Thank you so much, doc," she says before she takes Brittany's hand and walk inside her ward.

Her lip's blue, and she's wearing the oxygen mask. Santana listens to her heartbeat, it calms her down.

"Hey Q," she whispers.

"Hello Quinn, It's me, Britt and Sanny," Santana smiles.

"You scared us both, Q. Never again, alright? Or I'll beat your white girl ass," Brittany slaps her arm and Santana chuckles. She takes Quinn's hand and kisses it. She lets her lips linger for a moment.

"We're here, Q. We'll never leave you. She'll come back, don't worry, she always will. She's your Brittany,"

"Rach will come back, Quinn. She loves you, like San loves me. San came back, so she will too," Santana looks at the taller blonde and kisses her head.

"Wake up soon, alright? We'll be waiting," they both kiss Quinn's forehead before they walk outside.

As they wait for Judy, Santana keeps trying to call her. She's getting frustrated.

"Hello there, you've reach me, Rachel Berry. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your phone, I'm maybe busy so leave a message after the beep, bye!"

"Rachel, where are you? Please just come back. She—she really need you. She's in the hospital. She needs you so badly; I need you to be here so badly. I'm begging you; I don't ask anything for you just come back. I know she fucked up but… give her a chance. Tell me where you are, I'll pick you up, okay?"

Judy's crying silently when Brittany tells her the story, she cries hysterically. Her daughter loves that girl; she loves her more than anything. She told Judy that Rachel's the one and that she'd like to marry her someday. Even if she didn't tell her that, she knows. She can see it in her daughter's eyes, she loves her. "Oh, Quinnie," she hugs the sleeping body. "I'm so sorry, Quinnie. She loves you, she'll come back." She kisses her forehead.

I wakes up with my mother sleeping on the chair, hand on top of my own. I couldn't remember that much. I look around, looking for a certain brunette. I swear Rachel's here. Maybe it was a dream. I wanted to go back to sleep, to dream again but I couldn't. My throat feels dry.

"Wat—er" I whisper, shaking my mom's hand.

"Mom, water," She opens her eyes and stares at me.

"Water, mom. Water," I say, again.

"Of course, Quinnie!" she struggles to find the water. She clumsily pours it into the cup and hands it to me. When I put down the cup, she hugs me and lay kisses all over my face.

"Mom?" she lets go.

"Yes, honey?"

"Is—Is Rachel here?" She looks down not knowing what to answer. Tears start to fall down her cheek. My heart broke into pieces; she takes a deep breath and tries so hard not to cry. She failed.

"She didn't come? Not even once?" I whisper.

"We tried to call her but we failed. Santana tried every day, she changed her number," she whispers the last part.

"I want her back, Mom. I need her,"

"She'll come back, okay? She loves you," I clench my jaw.

"She didn't. She left, mom. She left me because I'm a junkie. Because I'm not what she wants or what she needs,"

"Don't say that, Quinnie. She's confused, she needs time. She'll come back," Mom says, caressing my cheek.

"You promise?" She bites her lips but she smiles. Not the kind of smile she usually gave me but a small one.

"Of course she will. You're the love of her life," She replies but there's uncertainty in her voice.

"She's the love of my life too,"

"I know, Quinnie. I know," she whispers.

"But sometimes… sometimes when you love someone, you have to let them go." She adds and her voice cracks.

I look up with anger in my eyes. She knows that look; she's seen it before I can even walk.

"No! I'm not letting her go. I love her, mom. You know how much I do. When you love someone, you fight for them. I promised her if anything happened to us, I'd never give up on her. I have to fight for her. For her love. She wants me to fight for her, mom. She needs me to,"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Quinnie. Of course, you should fight for her. But you need to get better first; you want to look good when you confront her. You don't want to look bad do you?" She bites her lips, trying to stop her tears. I shake my head fast, my eyes fill with happiness.

"No you don't, of course not."

The doctor is writing something on her file while she listens to what the nurse says. I just stare at the wall in front of me, thinking about what'd always been in my mind for the last few days; Rachel.

I really miss her, like I've missed her before—whenever she came home late or when she's simply away for hours—but I've never miss her like I miss her right now. Back then when I miss her it was the like I miss her but I know she's going to come home to me and that always made me feel happy, I'd smile like a little girl. Now, this feeling of missing hurts me. I feel like my heart is clenching so very slowly and I don't know if she's going to come back home. Ever.

"Okay, , looks like everything is running smoothly. Your body is healing slowly and that's normal. You can actually come home tomorrow," she says. I nod and she gives me a smile which I return with a small one.

"Just please, , don't ever do that again. Drugs are never the answer," she adds and walks out the door.

The nurse smiles at me and put down the file on the bedside table.

"Can I ask something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Does this hospital have a chapel?"

"Oh yes! I could take you there if you want to,"

"Yeah," I nod.

The chapel is small with few benches. There's no cross sign because it's for everyone, this makes me glad.

I sit on the middle and look at the creamy wall. I'm thinking about what I should say. My mind can't seem to work right now. I take out a picture of Rachel inside my purse. It was an old picture of her, when we just started dating. She looked young, very beautiful and happy. She's looking at the camera, straight into my eyes. I stroke the picture a few times.

I close my eyes and start picturing her.

"Dear God. I—I know I'm not a good person and I haven't pray in such a long time. But I—but I'm desperate. I miss her. You know I miss her. You created me. You know how hurt I am, how much I love her and how much I need her. I just—I can't picture myself without her. Whenever I think about my future I see her beside me. There's not a moment where I think my future will be with someone who isn't her. It's always been her. I know you know this because you know how my heart works whenever I'm with her," I take a deep breath.

"I don't want to wake up without her next to me. I can't imagine what my life would be without her beside me. I just—I love her so much. This heart, this heart you gave me, beats for her and her only. I know we're meant to be, I know because when I look at her, everything is okay, everything is better. My reason for living is her. I'm only here because of her. So please send her back to me. Because life without her, it's not a life. I need her," tears fall down from my eyes but my body won't react to it. It's like I don't feel a thing. I only noticed I'm crying when something cold hit my chest.

"If we're not meant to be… I don't—I can't—I don't know what to do because I can't—won't picture that because I don't want that to happen. At least let me know if she's okay. I need to know. I know I'm not a good person, to you, to her but I'll change. Give me a chance; I'll prove it to you. I'll be a better person; I'll stop whatever I'm doing right now. Let her love me again, let her heart beats for me again," my body's shaking.

"I know I made so many mistakes in my life but I can be better. But I'll be better, just let me have her back. I beg you. I'm begging you. Please, I need her back. I don't know what to do. I can't, I just I feel like I can't breathe anymore. If we're not meant to be, take me. I don't need to live. I don't want to live. But if she's the one for me, then please send her back to me. Please, my heart can't take it anymore. I'm weak," I rub my chest trying to ease the pain.

"Please," I stutter.

I repeat the words again and again.

When I arrive home, I can't help but to feel the empty environment surround the small apartment. I look at the bed, how it was messy because that's how Rachel left it. I didn't bother to sleep on the bed, I'm afraid I might ruin it and her scent is still there. Not the smell of her perfume but the smell of her.

I sit on the old couch and look at the picture on the table. We looked so happy, so Quinn and Rachel, just so…. in love. I wonder if Rachel looked at me like she did in the picture for the last few weeks, or months. I wonder if Rachel looks at someone else like she used to look at me. I wonder if Rachel found someone who's better than me. I wonder if that's her reason for leaving.

I know one day she'll give up on me because I'll give up on me too. But it still hurts. We talked about this and she said she'd never leave, that whatever happens, she'd always be with me. She'd always choose me.

When I first started to gamble, I only think about Rachel, about how happy she'd be if we can eat good food, if I could buy her nice clothes. When I first started to lose, I also only think about her. How disappointed she'd be, how mad she'd be. And finally she'll leave me. I just couldn't stop thinking about what Rachel would do if she knows what I'm doing. I walked towards the bed, where Rachel was sleeping with her back facing me. She's so skinny, you can tell by looking at her bone structure.

I lay down beside her, my palm on her back and my mouth on her neck. She turned around when I started to breathe more. She gave me a small smile, which I returned.

"Hey," she whispered as she gave me a peck on the nose.

"Where have you been?"

"I was looking for a job,"

"This late?"

"I need to try, right? I want to pay back your money and maybe if we have enough money, you can go back to school again,"

"It's too expensive, Quinn. You know that," She whispered. She told her dads she dropped out of NYADA because to be a successful star, she doesn't need to go to good school, like Barbra Streisand. 'To be a successful Broadway star, dad, daddy, I don't need to go to good school no matter how good that school is, even though they can teach those student to act, they can't give them the passion which, I must say, cannot be teach. Look at Barbra; she doesn't go to any college! I don't need good school to tell me if I can or cannot act because I know I can!'

"I know. That's why I need a job,"

"What about your school?"

"I'll always put you first. You know that," I said, rubbing her cheek. She kissed my palm.

"You look so tired, you need to stop or you might get sick." She played with my hair. She played with the pink strand.

"What I need is a job, Rach. I'm okay, I'm tough, remember?" I gave her a smirk and she giggled.

"Rach?" she looked at me.

"Will you leave me if we don't have anything anymore?" My voice cracked. We were broke but I still manage to find some money for foods and bills by singing on the street while she worked at a diner.

"Oh, baby," she bit her lips, trying not to cry.

"Quinn. Listen to me, Quinn. Hey? I'm not good with words like you are but, no matter how hard our life will be, no matter how broke we're going to be, I will never leave you. Even if my life is miserable, at least I'm with you. I rather live a hard, miserable life with you than having good, easy life without you. You are my life, Quinn. I'd always choose you," I closed my eyes as she kissed my forehead.

"I promise one day, I'll be good enough for you."

"You are good enough for me, Quinn. Don't say that,"

"You'll love me no matter what?"

"I'll love you until your blonde with slightly pink hair turns white," She was crying, but still manage to smile.

"Even when there's someone better who have big house, and can buy you expensive stuff?"

"I don't need all that. All I need is you," she replied. She's so perfect.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you nice life. I can't buy you a mansion to live, nice clothes or nice food. I'm so sorry, Rach. I know life with me is hard, but… please, don't leave me. I promise I'll give you a much better life. Just give me some time,"

"I'll never leave you. Even if I will, I want, need you to fight for me, okay? Because there'll be a moment where I'll be stupid and when that day comes, fight for me. Fight for our love,"

I close my eyes and swallow my saliva.

That night when I fell asleep, I dream of Rachel. Rachel said me she loves me; she hugged and kissed me and told me that everything will be fine. She asked me to fight for her and we cry. I promise Rachel. When Rachel started to walk to the door, I cried. I begged her to stay.

I promised her I'll fight for her. I will.

I wake up after few hours of sleep. I walk to the bathroom and brush my teeth, looking at my reflection the mirror. She used to be in front of me, brushing our teeth together while we made goofy faces and then she'd laugh and I'd hug her from behind. I sigh and put down my toothbrush. I look at the lonely toothbrush. It used to have a company.

Whenever we're done brushing our teeth, she'd always ask me what I want for breakfast and then I'd walk to the kitchen, bothering her because I can't cook. She hasn't asked me what I want for breakfast for months.

I take out the carton of milk and pour it down on the glass. The smell is awful, I almost throw up. There's nothing inside the refrigerator. I notice a note beside the broken coffee-maker.

'There's nothing inside the fridge. I left some money in the drawer'

I stare at the note for a few seconds.

When I reach the drawer there are 20 dollars inside. I don't remember what happen when I see the money but somehow I'm here, on the floor, crying.

It all started when I was introduced to the world of gambling. I tried my luck one day because I really wanted to treat Rachel to a nice vegan restaurant (Rachel stopped being a vegan because we can't afford it but she still refused to eat meat). I won and the feeling was amazing. When I took Rachel to the restaurant that night, Rachel can't stop smiling and for the first time since the last few months, she actually finished her food. It made me happy to see Rachel happy.

When I started losing, I felt depressed. I don't have any cash and all I can do to pay the money back is to ask Rachel for money. Rachel sometimes asked her dads because she doesn't have that much of money, she's a student for God sake. Rachel felt ashamed to her dads and when they ask, she said she needed the money for college stuff and they always believe her because they wanted the best for her.

"Rach," I whispered, kissing her neck.

"Wake up, baby. Rach," I caressed her stomach and turned her head to me. I asked her to wake up again and when she finally does, I kissed her lips.

"Can I borrow some money? I promise I'll pay you back. When I win again, we can eat nice food and buy you nice clothes,"

"I—I don't have any money, Quinn," she whispered, scared.

"Well, can you ask you dads? They'll lend you some. Come on, baby. Help me," I kissed Rachel's nose. Even I can smelt the alcohol.

"I—I can't, Quinn," I clenched my jaw, the hand caressing her stomach stop moving.

"Why not?"

"I already asked them too many times, I'm embarrassed, Quinn," Anger filled my eyes and I stood up taking Rachel with me. I slapped her, hard.

"I'm doing this for you, Rach. For you! I want you to be happy! Stop crying!" I yelled, approaching Rachel. Rachel moved back to the wall.

"Don't you want a nice life, Rach? I want that for you. Don't you get it? I'm doing this for you." I whispered, softly choking the smaller girl.

"Quinn, please," she begged. I kissed her hard and when she didn't kiss back, I slapped her again. I started to slow my movement and fell down the floor. Rachel cried and knelt down in front of me. She looked at me, terrified. I hated that. I hated that expression. It made me look like I was a monster. Maybe I was.

I stood up and walked out of the door, disgusted with myself. A woman approached me from a dark valley and showed me a white powder in a packet. I shook my head and tried to walk away. She stood in front of me.

"It's free. Well for now. Take it, it's an offer," she smirked. I looked down at her hand. I looked back at her and she nodded.

I took it.

"When you want it again, just be here after midnight and ask for Joan Jett. I'll give you nice price, alright?" and she walked away.

That was the first time I ever used drug.

Santana asks me to go to her apartment because she cooked too much food. I know she just want to know if I'm eating or not.

I sit beside her on the couch as she watches the ESPN news.

"Why do watch this?" I ask.

"What do you mean why I watch this?" she asks.

"You don't watch sport or news,"

"Yes, I do. I watch both of them,"

"Well what do you watch? Football?" She shakes her head.

"I watch soccer." I giggle.

"Since when do you like soccer?"

"Since I discovered USWNT," she smirks; I can see Brittany's rolling her eyes.

"The United State Women National Team," she adds.

"So you watch the girls?" she nods.

"What else is there to watch anyways? I mean have you seen the players? I wonder how they resist each other hotness. I mean hot damn. Alex Morgan? That girl is just… and Tobin Heath?" her eyes get bigger like she's trying to explode. I don't understand a thing.

"Finn Hudson was seen with a girl yesterday. Finn Hudson, the quarterback was caught kissing the girl outside his mansion…"

I turn my head to the TV. It's Finn kissing a brunette, a very small brunette. Another picture shows, it's a picture of him smiling down the girl while holding her hand beside silver BMW. After graduation, Rachel moved to New York while I moved to New Haven. One semester later, I was feeling so miserable without her that my grade went down so I decided to move to New York so I can be with her and I applied to NYU. We never looked back at Lima. We still stayed in contact with some of our friends like Santana, Brittany, Kurt and Blaine. We're closed to them. But some we don't even know where they go. Finn was one of them. After graduation, he tried to win Rachel back but Rachel told him she only wants me and we never heard from him again. Until today, I guess.

Turned out, he's now a quarterback which doesn't make sense because he can't even play. Now he has luxurious cars, big house and he's living the dream. It's not fair, really. Life, I mean. I worked hard for everything I do, and what do I get? Nothing. What does he get? Everything and Rachel. I don't care about whatever he have, what I do care about is that he has Rachel to call her his.

"Maybe we should start the dinner, I'm hungry. Come on, Q,"

That's where she is? With him?

"She's with him," I say, Santana turns off the TV.

"She's with him," I repeat.

"Come on, Q." She says, offering her hand.

"No, San! She's with him! With him! Dating, kissing! I looked for her every day because I'm scared if anything happen to her but she's with him! All along. Of course she's with him. He's rich, successful and everything I'm not. He's not a junkie. I am. She left me for him!" I yell. Brittany comes out of the kitchen with a spatula on her hand.

"What's going on?" she ask.

"What happen is Rachel left me for Finn Hudson because he's better than me!" I yell louder pushing Santana off, trying to walk away.

"Q," she takes my arm and pulls me into her embrace.

"Calm down, hey its okay. Maybe it's—," she can't even think about what to say.

Brittany kisses my head, her hand rubbing my back. My eyes are so blurry; I can't even listen to what they're saying. My mind is screaming her name.

At least let me know if she's okay. I need to know.

She's okay, she's fine, she's happy but I will not stop fighting.

People or society keeps saying that drugs are bad for you, but I don't think so. I think it's the most powerful medicine to cure a broken heart, even for a while. My heart needs a break. So I don't see why that's a bad thing. I've tried to forget her but that just makes me think about how much I love her and how much I need her. Although that also makes me think about how much she hates me and how happy she is without me. So yes, drugs are not bad. It's good, it's amazing. People should just stop lying.

Joan smirks at me when she sees me walking towards her.

"How much?" she asks, softly rubbing my arm and playing with my leather jacket.

"The usual," I answer, not bothering to look at her.

"How about two?" she whispers in my ear. I shake my head.

"I know you're hurt now. I've been through it before and one won't do it," I clench my jaw.

"I don't have enough cash,"

"You don't have to pay now or you can pay me half. The other half you can pay me with some physical activity, maybe?" her voice is getting huskier. I can see my own breath coming out from my mouth.

"What do you say?" she kisses the back of my ear. I push her away.

"Just give me one, okay?"

"Geez, I'm only trying to help," she says as she takes out a packet of the brokenhearted cure.

"Money first," I hand her the money and she hands me the drug. I walk away without any word.

It's cold so I wear my leather jacket with a hoodie. It's my old jacket, she bought it for me. It's not real leather, because Rachel Berry would never buy original leather because that's just wrong.

I put the cocaine inside the pocket and walk slowly on the pavement. I enjoy walking on the street of New York, it's disturbing but somehow it's also soothing.

We used to walk together after midnight. Just the two of us with our hands intertwined, smiling at each other or laughing at each other's joke. When she got cold, I'd lend her my jacket and she'd kissed my cheek. Sometimes I'd put both of my hand on her cheek to warm her up and I'd smile because her beanie was always almost covering her eyes.

Sometimes we'd go to the park, sharing a cup of coffee because we couldn't afford to buy two. She'd lay her head on my shoulder while we looked around. When she got sleepy, I'd kiss her forehead and we'd go home. And when it got really cold, I'd wrapped a blanket around her and myself. She looked so pretty in such a weird way, her face was pale, her plump lips turned slightly dry and I'd always kissed her whenever she looked like that because it's breathtaking.

When she got back from work at the diner, sometimes she'd visited me while I sang and played my guitar for money. She'd sat beside me and listened. We got extra money whenever she sang along.

I didn't know I was crying until someone asked me if I'm okay. It's an old lady, she looks concern. I nod and wipe my face.

"Do you want one?" she asks, showing a piece of cigarette. Her eyes are kind; she offers me a small smile.

"Yeah. Sure," she smiles and I take the cigarette and she lights it up. I thanked her and she nodded before walking away.

She hated my smoking habit. She said I'm trying to kill her so whenever I want to smoke one, I had to get out of the apartment or just stay away from her. She also refused to kiss me if I didn't brush my teeth.

I run my hand on my hair and sigh.

"That was an amazing show, Miss Berry! You were phenomenal!" someone says. I look up and see group of people and some of them are taking pictures.

"Thank you! I very much appreciate that," My eyes turn away from the group to a petite brunette that's walking towards a limo. My heart stop.

The cigarette on my mouth is now on the floor.

"What do you have to say to your fans, Miss Berry?" a young man yells.

"I don't think I have a fan. At least not yet. After all, I'm still new in this industry but thank you for saying that! It certainly makes my night even better," a man opens the door for her.

I quickly look around and stop a cab.

"Follow that car, please," he didn't say anything he just waits until her car starts moving.

I can feel my heart beating very fast; my eyes are glue to the limo in front of me. I keep bouncing my knee, my jaw is clenching. When the limo starts to move, I immediately asked the driver to follow it. He looks annoyed, but I don't really care.

About 30 minutes later, we finally arrived. I asked the driver to stop about two houses away. It's Staten Island. I've never been here before. I never have the reason to. If I could explain this place in one word, I'd say; expensive. There are so many mansions and sport cars, I feel so small.

"That'd be 55 bucks," the driver says, lighting up his cigarette.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. 55 bucks,"

"Is there anyways you could lower it to 50? I don't have 5 more bucks,"

"Hell no. It's half an hour drive. 55,"

"Please, sir. This is an emergency,"

"Emergency you say? You think I don't know who that girl is? She's a celebrity. She's dating that quarterback. You're probably one of those creepy people who like to stalk celebrity,"

"I'm not. She's a friend of mine. Please sir. Please," I shiver as the wind blows.

He nods.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I appreciate it. You don't know how big of a deal this is for me," I hand him the money and walk towards her house. I pull up the hoodie, I feel like a criminal. I'm probably is.

It's big. Huge. I've only seen this kind of house in a movie. I don't even know they really exist. I've always thought it's sort of like a set. There are two big walls that I managed to climb on. I can hear the small thud when I fell down on the grass. I walk slowly to the front door.

"You think you can get away you fucking stalker!" a voice startle me. Someone grab me by my shoulder and start to hit me on the face and kick me on the stomach. I didn't try to fight back because I couldn't. They're too big. Yes, they.

" warned us about people like you. Freak," he yelled. I hear footsteps and I'm hoping it's Rachel because I need it to be her.

It is.

"What's going on here?" she says as she opens the door.

"Oh my God! Stop! What's going on!" she's yelling.

"Stop!" and they finally did.

"Who is this person and why are you beating whoever that is!"

"This is just some stalker, . warned us about this kind of person. They can kill you," one of them says.

"That's just ridiculous. I do not have a stalker; I'm still new in this industry. Let the person go!"

"He can be dangerous, Ms-"

"I don't care!" one of them punch me on the cheek one more time before he threw me on the ground, causing my hoodie to fall. She gasps.

"Q-quinn?"

"Shit, it's a chick." One of the guys says.

"You know her ?"

"Just go," she says and then she's kneeling in front of me, holding my face. I miss this spark. Gosh, she's so beautiful.

"Oh my God, Quinn. What are you doing here?" she asks, wiping the blood on my mouth, but I didn't answer her. I'm too stunned.

"Can you try to stand up?" She asks another question as she wrapped her arm around my waist. I stand up and follow her steps as she carries me to God knows where.

"You—you look so beautiful, Rach," I say, looking down at her. She didn't look up at me but her jaw clenches.

She brings me to the kitchen, if you call this a kitchen that is. I don't even look around the house; I was too busy looking at her. She told me to sit down on one of the stool.

I look around the kitchen and I feel so small. I don't belong to a place like this, I used to live in one but I never liked it. She walks slowly to me with first aid kit on her hands; she looks at me with an emotion I've never seen on her face before.

"Hi," I greet when she reaches me. She puts something on the cotton and pressed it on the bruises and the cuts. I grimace at the pain. She slows down. Her eyes are teary, mine too.

"I miss you so much, Rach," she keeps on going; she didn't look at my eyes.

"Please—please come home. I need you," she stops.

"Can you just stop? Please, okay? Just stop," she scolds. I look down, she turns my face back up roughly using her finger that's on my chin and I flinch. She didn't say anything but her eyes soften a little bit.

She looks so beautiful. She always does, but right now she looks really beautiful. She looks like what Rachel Berry used to look like. I can tell she gains some weight because she was so skinny that once I can see her ribs pointed out. I know she was skinny because we didn't get to eat so many foods because of our money issues. She has curves now and she looks so healthy. It hurts me how I caused her to be so skinny and unhealthy.

She's biting her lips. She always does that when she's focusing on something. Either that or she's nervous. I tried to look inside her eyes but she keeps ignoring any of my glances. She walks out of the kitchen to put out the first aid kit.

"Are you hungry?" she asks me, walking back in. I look up, startle. When I didn't answer, she asked again.

Did she hear my stomach? Was it that obvious?

"Yes," She nods and opens the refrigerator's door.

"I think I might have some leftover lasagna,"

Lasagna. That's my favorite dish from her. She put it on the microwave and put out some bacon, yes bacon. It was a joke because I told her once that I can eat anything with bacon on the side even cookies. So whenever she cooked, she'd put bacon on the side. "You cook for him? You didn't cook for me for months," I whisper, loud enough for her to hear. "Yeah, because we never have anything in the fridge that I can cook!" she snaps. I swallow my saliva. Gosh, I'm feeling smaller and smaller. You've wanted to see her for months and when she's standing in front of you, you just sit around? Get up, Quinn. Go get your girl.

I walk slowly behind her. She's frying the bacon. She jumped when I wrapped my arms around her waist, but she didn't do anything else. I press my lips on the back of her neck, my hands wandering on her stomach and her thigh. Her head is on my shoulder, her neck exposes, so I kiss the side of it. I kiss her pulse point, I suck. She moans and I kiss her jaw, the side of her mouth. She pushes me.

"Don't," she warns when I tried to lean in again.

"Just go, sit down, Quinn." I sit, looking around, again feeling so small. My heart hurts, and my head hurts also. I don't know why. I'm playing with my fingers, I feel so cold.

"Be careful, they're still hot," she always said that whenever she served me something she cooked, even though she knew I knew it's hot. It's a habit, I think. I guess she realizes this too because she looks like she wants to punch herself.

"Thank you," she nods, pouring the lemonade on the glass in front of me.

When my tongue touches the foods, I actually closed my eyes. It's like I've been hungry for months, years. She's washing the pan. I know she's avoiding me. And then I notice something as I'm slowly chewing my food.

"This is vegan," I've tasted this before, such a long time ago. I don't know how I still remember what it tasted like.

She turns around and nods.

"You're a vegan again?"

"I'm practicing to be one again,"

"I'm sorry you can't be one with me. I—I tried to buy the products for you but it's too expens—"

"Just eat, okay?" She cuts me and stand in front of me, watching me eat.

"This kitchen is bigger than our apartment," I say, trying to kill the silence. She smiles a little bit; I return it even though she didn't look at me.

"No it's not," she replies.

"I like your dress. Where did you buy it?" Rachel didn't answer, she just look down.

"Hey come on, tell me. Why, is it a secret? Did a bird sew it?" I ask again trying to make a smile.

"No,"

"Then what? Hurm, was it a mouse?" She looks sad.

"It's Christian Dior's," She whispers. I put the glass down.

"That sounds… expensive,"

"Did he buy that for you too?" I ask, pointing at her necklace. That's the necklace I know she's been wanting for quite sometimes. I saw her looking at it through the glass few times. I've saved some money for it, but I'm not even half way there.

She looks down at her necklace, bite her lips and nods.

"It's beautiful,"

"Are you done?" I nod and she puts the dishes on the sink.

"It's good. I've missed your cooking,"

"You—you're on a play now?" She nods, I nod back. I hate silence; okay I love silence but not the awkward one and this? I hate this. I startled when I heard her phone ring. She walks out to the kitchen and answers her phone. I can tell it's him.

"Hello?"

"I'm fine. It's good. Have you eaten?"

"Okay. It's okay. You can come the next time,"

"You too, honey,"

I clench my jaw, this pain in my heart hurts so bad. I stand up and finish the drink.

"Where are you going?" she asks, putting her phone on the counter.

"Home," I turn my back from her.

"Do you have any money?" I stop and nod.

"Don't lie,"

"I'm not," I am. She chuckles and it makes me want to slap her because I know she's making fun of me. She's standing in front of me. She takes my hand, opens my palm and put some cash. There are about 200 dollars.

"That's too much," she didn't reply.

"I promise myself I'll never ask you for money again,"

"You're not asking. I'm giving it to you,"

"I can't," I put it inside her hand again. She rests her palm on my cheek causing me to look at her because of the sparks. I wonder if she feels it too, maybe she does because her eyes changes. I remember that's the face she gave me when she left me. Her reaction starts to change. Her brows furrows. She looks down, her jaw clenches, her eyes changes.

Her hand is inside the pocket of my jacket. She slowly slides her hand out with the packet of white powder.

"I—I can," I stutter. She takes a few steps back and throws the money with the cocaine on my face, disgusted by me.

"Get out!" she yells.

"Rach—"

"Get the fuck out of my house and take that trash with you" she points at the door.

"Rachel, please,"

"I don't want to listen to anything anymore," I take a step forward to her and she takes a step back.

"Don't. Go away. I don't want to see your face anymore," I immediately put both of my hands on her arms.

"That's the only thing that can help me, you don't understand,"

"You're right, I don't. Just get out of my house and don't you dare come back,"

"I'm hurt, Rachel."

"So that shit can cure you?" I nod, I'm already crying. Her eyes are teary but she's furious. She pushes me away.

"Take that with you and get out,"

"Rach, come back home, please. I need you."

"To you? Why?" I look at her.

"Because I love you and I need you in my life," she looks at the cocaine and the money on the floor.

"Stop begging, I don't want you anymore and please grow up, Quinn. Pink streak is no longer 'cool'. You're an adult and for God sake, get a real job!"

"Rach, please come back. I can't live without you. I really need you. I love you." She looks at me, her eyes teary and I can that she's biting the inside of her cheek. I walk a step forward.

"Why would I come back to you?"

"Because no one can love you like I love you."

"You're worthless," she says, her voice cracks; turn her body and walks towards her living room.

My heart just stops beating and my legs are weak. I look at her, she didn't look back. I pick the money and the cocaine. I can't believe those words can kill me.

Worthless. That's me. I'm worthless. She's right, I am worthless. Why would she want me? I'm nothing.

Santana is sitting on my couch when I arrived home. When she saw my face, she stood up and started yelling in Spanish.

"Ayy, what did you do this time? Did you get into a fight, Q?" she turns my head around.

"You know if I'm not with Britt, I'd probably do you right now. You look badass," she giggles.

"Q?"

"What happen? Tell me," she whispers.

"I found her,"

"Rachel?" I nod.

"How?"

"I—I followed her home. She lives in a mansion, San. Her kitchen is bigger than this place. She rode a fucking limo. She—she wears this necklace that I've wanted to buy for her but I just can't afford it. Why would she want to be with me, San? I'm worthless. I can't give her what she wants. Why would she want a junkie like me? Someone who run away with their problem with drugs? Someone who lives in a shitty apartment, someone who can't buy her anything? Why would she want me when she has everything? I'm worthless!" Santana slaps me.

"Bitch, you're not worthless! Who says you're worthless, huh? You're not. You're Quinn fucking Fabray!"

"She said it. She said I'm worthless, Santana. And she's right. I am. I'm just someone she can looks back to and laugh because she knows she deserves better!" Santana sits back down.

"I—Q, I don't know what to say,"

"Don't say anything, can you just help me with something?" before she can answer I shoved a box into her hand.

"What's this? I don't want a blond hair, Q. It doesn't really work with my face," she giggles.

"I want you to dye my hair."

"Blond?" I nod.

"Why?" Why can't she just do it?Why is she asking so many questions, for God sake I don't know what to say. Because I'm a pathetic girl whose still stuck in her teenage days? Because she asked me to? That's sounds even more pathetic. Instead of saying those I choose to say this;

"Because it's time to grow up."

Sometimes I wonder why people actually give me money for me to sing when they don't even listen to me. They just throw couple of bucks and then walk away. It's generous but it'd be better if they actually stop and listen, I'd appreciate that. But hey I can't actually complain when they're the reason I can buy foods.

I've tried looking for jobs before but it's so hard. I think it's because of my hair, or my piercing or maybe because I'm drop out of college. I didn't stop trying though, because I know without money, Rachel will never come back to me. So I accept the job as a barista and a waitress, I don't know how to survive with 2 and a half jobs, but if it means she'll come back to me, I don't care.

"Make good bucks today, Q?" I look up and smile. Sometimes Santana likes to come and 'pick me up' but after the breakup she's always there before I even pack my stuff.

"A little bit,"

"Let's go home, I'm freezing," She picks up my guitar case that contains money.

"Put that damn old junk here, Britt's waiting. We're ordering Thai," I put my guitar inside the case and walk with her.

"You're hungry, huh?" I ask her when I noticed how fast she's walking.

"Are you kidding me? I'm starving," I giggle.

"You okay?" She asks me out of nowhere, her face concerns.

"I'm fin—I've been better," She sighs and wraps her arms around me as we walk together on the street on New York.

"Shit, my shoelaces. Let's stop for a second," I nod and wait for her. I notice that we're stopping in front of a Broadway poster.

Les Misérables

Starring the new rising star,

Rachel Barbra Berry

Tickets on sale now!

I don't really read the rest; I just keep staring at her face.

"Okay, I'm done. Let's go, Q." We're walking again and my mind can't stop thinking about her.

"Hey San?"

"What?"

"How much does a Broadway ticket cost?"

"Why?" she looks at me with wide eyes. I look down and keep walking.

"No. Please don't tell me… where did you find out? Hey Q!" she grab me by my wrist and turns me around. I avoid looking at her eyes.

"Where? Tell me," she says, softly.

"We stop in front of it just now," she sighs and looks back at the place we just stopped at and then turns around to look at me again.

"I don't know 80 to 200 bucks I guess,"

"That much?" she nods.

"Don't even think about it, Q. You need to move on, okay?"

"I don't want to move on, San. I need to be with her again. I need to fight for our love. I love her,"

"I know you do, sweetie. I know. But maybe… maybe that's not enough for her to be happy. Let her go, Quinn," I look at her and keep walking. I can't believe she just said that. I know she still loves me, I know that she wants, needs me to fight for our love, I know that we belong together. But deep inside, I can't help but to think that maybe Santana's right. Even if she is, I will never stop trying, she's the love of my life and I'll anything to die with her loving me.

I spent 100 dollars on the ticket and 20 dollars on the flowers, I bought a bouquet of carnations because they're the cheapest and I really can't afford anything else. I look at my ticket and look for my seat, when I finally found it; I let out a small breath. It's so far from the stage.

I notice how happy she is when she's singing. Her eyes are shiny and she has this huge smile on her face whenever people clap. My eyes are glued to her, I don't even know what's going on, and I just stare at her. When she bows with all the other casts, my eyes are teary because she's crying. I know its happy tears and although my tears are the same, I know mine's fill of sadness too because she won't be here if she's still with me.

I wait outside the room for her; I can't get in because of the bodyguards. I keep looking at the flowers in my hand, I hope she likes it.

"Hey, is she in there?" I look up at that voice, that voice that I've always hated. He's holding a bouquet of red roses inside a vase. He hasn't change much except he's now look… smart. He's wearing a suit and his hair is long enough to do the smart cut. His smile is still the same, goofy and stupid. I hated him before but I hate him even more now.

"Okay, give this to her alright? I need to call the restaurant to make reservation," he says, handing the flowers to one of the guard and walks away. I look down at my own bouquet and laugh at myself. She'll never want this, and right at this moment, I realize she'll laugh at me if she sees me right now. So I throw away the flower on the nearest trashcan and start to walk away.

"Quinn?" I stop.

"Is—is that you?" the voice's getting closer and I'm shaking. She wraps her hand around my wrist and turns me around, my eyes still on the ground.

"What are you doing here?" I keep my mouth shut.

She looks at the trashcan next to me.

"Why would you throw that away? Is that for me?" I nod slowly. She bends down and takes the flowers.

"This is beautiful, Quinn. Thank you," Again, I nod.

"You hair…" her eyes are on my hair, possibly looking for the pink streak somewhere.

"Do you like it?" For a moment I thought she might hated it because I can see sadness in her eyes but she asked me to do it so maybe she's just sad because of how pathetic for being here, for still trying to win her back even though she constantly pushing me away.

"Come on," She takes my hand and brings me to her dressing room. I look around and there are tons of flowers and gifts. She puts mine on her make up table and I can't help but to smile at that.

"What are you doing here?"

"Watch your play. You're amazing, Rach. Perfect, beautiful." I reply.

"How did you get in? Did you sneak in? That's not right, Quinn. I know we used to do that but it's wrong. " I clench my jaw and chuckle.

"You really think that little of me don't you?" I say starting to walk at the door. She grabs my hand.

"How did you get in then?"

"I buy the ticket,"

"How can you afford such a ticket, Quinn? It's expensive," My nails are digging into my palm.

"Answer me, Quinn." She says softly.

"I sold my watch," I whisper, voice shaking.

"What? But you love that watch," I do, my grandma gave it to me for my 16th birthday, I used to wear it all the time. "Yeah well I love you more." She looks at me with sad eyes and let go of my hand.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn. I'm so sorry I called you all those things. I was mad; I don't know what's got into me,"

"It's okay, you're right. I am worthless,"

"Don't say that!" I swallow my saliva and bite my lips.

"You're not worthless. I was stupid for saying so. You're not, Quinn,"

"If I'm not worthless, will you come back home with me? We—we can go to that vegan place you love. I have money, I have jobs now. I work at a coffee shop and a restaurant. When I get back, I play some music on the same street. I have tons of money now, Rach. We can—we can eat good food, we can buy you nice clothes—"

"What about you? Don't you want nice clothes?"

"I don't care about me. I can wear my old clothes if it means you can buy nice one," I smile.

"What about time? You work 3, well 2 jobs, Quinn. When will you have time for me?" I open my mouth and close them back.

"I thought you wanted all that. You can have it all, Rach. You can do what you've always love to do and then you come home and we can watch movies together or—or walk around the city after midnight—," She's crying and I stop talking. She's crying so hard that she's shaking. I walk towards her and she wraps her arms around my neck and cries on my chest. I kiss her head and her temple; take a smell of her scent and the warmth of her body.

She looks up at me and caresses my cheek. I wipe her tears and give her a small smile. We just stare at each other for a moment; I don't think I even breathe for a second.

"Come home, Rach. Let's start over, okay? I promise you I will never hurt you again. I'd do anything for you love me again. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it." She leans in and presses her lips against mine for a few seconds. She moves her lips so slowly like she's scared I'll break. Before she lets go, she pecked my lips one more time.

"Go to a rehab. Stop taking those stuff and get clean,"

"And then you'll come back to me?"

"If you really do love me, you'll do it,"

"You'll love me again, right?"

"Will you do it?"

"I'll do anything, Rach. Anything if it means you'll love me again,"

"When I see you the next time, you better be clean,"

"I will. I promise you I'll be clean so we can be together again, okay?" she gives me a small smile.

"I love you, Rachel. I love you so much," She pulls me into her embrace again and I keep kissing her neck and head. We stayed in each other's arms until a knock on the door interrupted us and she lets go of me.

"Miss Berry, 's waiting for you in the car," I keep looking at her, begging her not to leave.

"I'll be right there, thank you." She says, her eyes still looking right through mine.

"Please don't leave, Rachel. I can take you out, I'll make a reservation for your favorite restaurant, okay? I have money. I do," She closes her eyes and kisses my cheek. "I'm sorry. I've to go now, Quinn." She whispers in my ear.

"I'll be clean the next time you see me. I promise you," I say when her hand touches the door knob. She didn't turn around, she just walks away. But to be honest, I feel good. She'll want me again if I'm clean. So I will, I will go to rehab and fix myself if it means that I'll get to call her mine again. I'll do anything.

Mom said that she'll help me to pay the treatment. She seems really happy when I told her about me going to rehab. Santana offered too and I have to take it because my mom couldn't really afford it. I begged them to let me pay for it too because this is my own problem and I need to be in it too.

The coffee shop pays me decent amount of money, not great but it'll do. I'm a barista and I can have my coffee (which I really need because I need energy to work at the restaurant until midnight) for free every time my job is done. With those two jobs I'm sure I can buy a good enough place but I will not move out from the apartment. It's small but it's ours. And when she comes back and she wants a new place, then I'll buy a new one.

"Hey welcome to Little House Coffee Shop, how can I help you?" I say, fixing my cap and straighten my apron without looking at the customer. I'm used to not looking at people because mostly they'd judge me because of my hair and piercings.

"Hey, can I have—" I look up at that voice, mouth open.

"Soy latte." She looks up from her phone, her bang covering her eyes.

"Wait! Soy latte, right? Com—coming right up," I say when I realized she's trying to leave. I'm trembling as I'm making her drink. I can feel her eyes on me and I feel like such an idiot because I'm so nervous.

"Your name, miss?" I ask, clenching my jaw. She looks at me with pair of pity eyes and it's killing me.

"Rachel." She replies, I nod and write on the cup with trembling hand. I asked Julie-the cashier-to switch places with me and she didn't question me, which I'm glad.

"Rachel," I call her name and hands her the drink. She gasped when she saw the writing.

This is what I wrote;

Please come back,

(203-593-256)

It's a shitty and desperate move but let's face it, I am desperate. At least she knows I'm not lying to her about me having a job. A real job.

She hands me the money, her eyes on the floor, the hand that's not holding anything, clenching.

"Thank you." and she walks out the door.

"Cover me!" I half-yell to God knows who and follow her. I run because she's walking so fast. I turn her around using her shoulder. She looks mad, I can hear her breathing.

"What do you want?"

"Can we please talk? 5 minutes." I take a deep breath.

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"There's so many things to talk about, Rach!"

"There are paparazzi around okay? Just go back to work, Quinn." She says in low voice.

"So what? You're embarrassed to be seen with a girl who works at a coffee shop? Because you're rich now and I'm nobody? Is that it?" I grip her wrist.

"Let go of me, Quinn!" She looks around. I smile and take out a piece of paper from my pocket.

"Miss Berry, may I have your autograph please?" I say, out loud because I noticed a man with a camera pointing at us not too far away from where we're standing. She furrows her eyebrows.

"There's a paparazzi behind. I know you're embarrassed of me; I get it but call me okay? I love you." I whisper.

"Of—of course you may," she says, taking out a pen and signing the piece of paper.

"Can I hug you, Miss Berry?" I ask when she hands me the paper. She nods so I wrap my arms around her, wanting so hard to press my lips on her.

"I'm going to rehab this week. I'll let you know the address okay? Maybe—Maybe you can visit me or something. I love you, Rachel. So much," She sends me a fake smile when I pull out and walks away.

It's big. The rehab center, it's big. I was surprised the place was huge and beautiful. I'd never imagine this as a rehab center. I always thought a rehab center would look like a crappy building, maybe like abandon building but never this. I know what they're trying to do. They're trying to make it feel homey, with all the furniture, pictures and the smell of cinnamon and home-cooked meal but honestly it's anything but homey. It's depressing how they're trying too hard, it didn't matter because all of the people here don't care about how homey this place looks, they're too busy being depressed. I already feel depressed looking at all of these.

Mom cried before she left, she told me she'll try to see if she can come every week. I know she can't because her boss is an ass but at least she's trying. She's getting better; no she is better without him and who the hell care about my sister? She left when she was 18, came home every Christmas and Thanksgiving until he left. Me and my mom never heard of her ever since.

Santana didn't cry but Brittany did. Brittany said that Rachel will come back for me because she's my Santana and no matter how big the fight is, Santana will always come back. Santana hugged me and told me everything will be fine because love's a battlefield and this is me, on a war. She also told me she'll try and come every week and I know she can because she works with her mom and she basically owns it (her words, not mine). I asked her to take care of my mom and Rachel and keep me updated.

People don't talk here. At least not the people who just arrived, we just looked around and looked at each other. People who have been here longer than us (we're on a group) they're laughing, talking and playing games. We were taken to a room and there were chairs in a circle in the middle of the room. Now this is what I always picture rehab would be.

Emily Wade. She's our trainer, leader whatever I wasn't really paying much attention on what she's saying. She reminded me of Miss Pillsbury, she doesn't look like her but she just reminded me of her. Emily is in her early-twenties maybe and though she doesn't have the kind face Miss Pillsbury has, when she smiles, I know it's sincere. And that soothes me, and most of us I think since we're all staring at her.

"So how about we introduce ourselves?" She smiles. "So who would like to start first?" she looks around and nobody raise a hand or stand up.

"How about you?" she points her thumb at a girl in front of me. "Why don't you tell us your name and what brings you here and why you're here," The girl looks up and looks around.

"My name is Samantha. I'm here because my aunt sent me," she says. Emily nods smiles and points at someone else.

"Eric. My mom got tired of me living at home." He continues playing with his fingers.

"And you?" Emily points her thumb at me.

"Qu—Lucy." I say.

"And why are you here?"

"The love of my life said that if I'm clean, she… she'll come back to me. " I look around to see if anyone is disgusted by what I just said. They just look at me, including Eric who stops playing with his fingers with a small smile and sad expression. Emily smiles softly and continues her job.

We have private session where we get to sit inside a room with our trainer. And I'm glad Emily's mine because she's really nice and I really like how sweet she can be around everyone. I'm sitting in front of her on the same couch as she's leaning over the armrest. She's also sipping her coffee. She seems so relax, it makes me calm. It also making me blushes a little bit. I think all the people here would too, I mean she's beautiful. She's probably Native American with a bit of Latina blood and Indian. Gorgeous.

"So, Lucy. How many songs have you wrote now?" she asks, her eyes slightly become more glassy. Her eyes are the mixed color between light blue and grey. So, I can't help but to stare at it for a moment.

"Honestly?" I say, looking back down. "I've written tons. More than I should, really." I add.

"You look sad. Why is that sad? That's a great thing."

"It's all about her."

"Well she's the love of your life; I don't see anything wrong with wanting to write a song for her," I sigh.

"Would you like to listen to one of them? I—I bring my guitar today, if you don't mind?" She smiles. "Of course not! That's good, come on play me something." She fixes her posture and making this hand gesture for me to start. I stand up and pick up my guitar and sit back down. I tune my guitar for few seconds and start playing.

"If I hold out my hand, would I change where you're standing now?Just come back to me," I sing and close my eyes. I can see her in front of me now. Rachel. She's standing in front of me with him beside her and she's holding his hand and it hurts my heart. She's crying as she's looking at me.

"Whatever it takes, I will wait until my dying day. Just come back to me," he's looking at her with so much confusion and his face is slowly fading away. She's pulling out her hand from him and she run to me, and kisses my face and my tears and just like that it's all over because I heard tears and it's not Rachel. So I open my eyes and Emily is wiping her tears. She notices how I'm looking at her and she sends me a small smile.

"When did you wrote that?" she asks when she can finally talk.

"The day I came back home after I was OD."

"She's lucky, you know?"

"I know. She's living her dream now. She has everything she's always wanted." She shakes her head, "That's not what I meant, Lucy. She's lucky to have someone like you. I like your guitar," I look down at the old guitar in my hands. I like it too, it's old, and it certainly shows but this guitar means everything to me. There's a glow in the dark star that Rachel put, and some of my favorite band stickers and some quotes.

"She—she bought it for me. When I first tell her that I wanted to learn to play guitar, she bought it for me so I can learn to play it because music was—is very important to her. Just like it is for me. We were just 16. We stayed up all night watching youtube's guitar tutorials videos together even though she can't play guitar. And after I can play it, I'd teach her even though she couldn't seems to understand a thing about what I said," I chuckle, "she'd try and then she'd gave me this pout and play the piano instead. So what I did was, I would play with her, the piano, sometimes she played the piano and I played the guitar and we'd be better again because I think music speaks for us… and I hope she can understand what I'm trying to do with my songs." I take a deep breath,

"And I hope she'll come back to me when she listens to my songs, because it's all for her." I add. Emily gives me a small smile and she sips the coffee.

"You never told me how you met her. I would love to know, if you don't mind," This is what I like about Emily. Even though this is what she do for living, this is her job, she doesn't act the way most therapist or counselor do. She's calm, she smiles a lot, she giggles and mostly she actually listens. At the end of the day, she's not someone who's there to help you; she's just a friend who's being a friend.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. She might think I'm trying to remember how I met her but no; I remember everything like it happened yesterday. I'm just taking a deep breath because I can see Rachel's face, smiling at me.

"We met at school. I was 16 and she was 15, she was the new girl. I saw her by her locker, carrying thick books and she used pink bag with a big gold star, that was the first thing I noticed and then she turned around and she was wearing this awful argyle with short skirt. She dropped her books so I ran to her and picked some of the books for her. She looked at me with wide eyes, I can tell she's nervous but then she sent me a small smile and there was blush on her cheeks. And when she tucked her hair behind her ear with her eyes on the floor, I just know. I just know that I have to get to know this girl. No matter what happened, I have to." I smile at Emily when I saw her giving me a smile and a nod for me to continue.

"So I did. I asked my friends to help me, Santana and Brittany. I attend Glee Club because of her; my friends attend Glee Club because that's where they can be themselves without caring about people judging. I already know I like girls then, I just didn't realize that I'm already in love with one. Five months and 3 songs later, I finally asked her to be mine." Emily hands me a tissue with a warm sad eyes. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand and hand her the tissue back for her to wipe her own. I give her a small smirk. I can see the blush spreading on her cheeks.

When I said she reminded me of Miss Pillsbury, I clearly had no idea who she really was because she's nothing like Miss Pillsbury.

"Do you like girls, Emily?" I ask, out of nowhere. I just want to slap myself when I saw her eyes widen. She giggles when she noticed that I, myself was shocked those words come out of nowhere.

"Well I don't label myself. I just think labeling just make things more confusing. I mean what if I date a girl, people will still say it's a lesbian relationship right? Well what if I'm bi? Can I have a bi relationship? Wouldn't that be fair to someone who's not a lesbian but bi but in a relationship with the same gender person? I just want a relationship." She says, smiling at me. I nod and send her a smile back.

"Do you like girls and girls only? Or?"

"I mean I've only dated two girls, three if you included my 3 days relationship but I definitely like girls." Again she chuckle.

"When did you start writing? Songs, I meant," she asks. I put down my guitar back inside the case.

I turn my head towards her and see that she's looking at the floor, or maybe, the guitar case. "When I was in middle school, life's pretty rough back then."

"Girls problem?" she smirks, I laugh a little bit. "Always." I reply.

"Your friend, she visited you a lot. Who is she?"

"Ah, Santana. She's my best friend."

"She knows about you and Rachel?"

"Everything," I nod. "She's dating my other friend Brittany since high school too."

"Tell me about her." Emily says, my eyes widen. "Santana?" she nods.

"Well she's great. We've known each other since we were about 14. I was a cheerleader for two years and was a captain for a year, trust me, it's something I am not proud of. We become friends we I caught her kissing this girl behind the bleacher. I thought hey, finally I'm not alone," Emily giggles.

"Is she there for you when Rachel left?" her voice gets lower.

"Yeah, since the beginning."

"Sounds like a great friend." I nod. "She definitely is."

"Are you mad at her?" Emily asks after couple of moments.

"Santana?"

"No, Rachel." I look at the coffee table where there are plenty of magazines and old novels scattered around and there's a jar full if candies and chocolate. I look at the window behind Emily and how there are teenagers sitting on the ground, talking to each other. There are some who are playing basketball and there are couples of people talking to their therapist, like I am.

I look back at Emily and give her a small smile.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm actually proud of her,"

"For leaving?"

"No, for being smart. She left me because she knew she deserved better and that I could never give her the life she has always wanted. So, she left. She left because she's smart."

"Are you happy with her decision?" Again, I have to think about how to answer her questions. I don't want to look desperate or stupid but I don't want to look like a snob either.

"No. I'm not."

Visitors are allowed on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Usually mom would come on Sunday, if she's not busy but she always was. I don't blame her. She needs to pay for my treatment too. Santana come almost 2 times a week (she said because she has nothing to do when really I know she's just looking after me). She'd asked Brittany to come if she's busy. I never realize how amazing of a friend she was before.

I'm sitting alone at the cafeteria, reading Wasteland that my mom sent me. I don't know how many time have I read it, but it'll always be amazing for me. I wish I can feel what I feel when I first read it though.

"Hey, nerd." Santana sits down in front of me, smirking. "Hey, Sanny." I smirk back and she glares at me.

"You doing okay, Q?"

"I'm fine. Mom came on Friday. She couldn't stop crying and apologizing to me for no reasons. Sometimes I wish she'd just stop coming you know? Cause' it's making me even more depressed." I sip on the lemonade that Santana bought.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" I shake my head. "Don't. It's okay, she's just sad, I guess. Who wouldn't be when they know their kid is a drug addict with a fucked up life?"

"Hey, don't say that, okay? You're here so you can be better."

"How is she?" she clenches her jaw and knuckles. It's making me anxious.

"I don't know." She whispers. "Why do you mean you don't know? I asked you to take care of her!"

"I am but she's not here." Her voice is getting lower now.

"What?"

"She's in Paris." My heart shatters. I look down at the box of lemonade, clenching my jaw. Santana's playing with the end of her jacket.

"With him?" I ask. My eyes still on the table. "Just—be honest."

She nods.

"You know she's always wanted to go there. I told her one day she'll be there; I'll make sure of it. And now, she's there but he did it. He made sure of it. He let it happened, while I'm here, waiting." Santana run her thumb back and forth over the back of my hand.

"Judy asked me to give you this. She said it's your favorite." She hands me a lunchbox. The lunchbox I used to bring to school till I was 10. It's The Avengers. I smile at the lunchbox. I can't believe mom still kept it after all these years. I stopped using lunchbox when a boy teased me about how childish I was and how Avengers is for boys. I used paper bag ever since.

Santana laughs out loud when she saw what's inside the box, sandwiches with fried bacons on the side. I grin and offer her some, hoping she'd say no. "Ha, trying to be polite when you really don't want to offer any? No thanks, Q." she giggles.

"Britt said hi, by the way. She wanted to come but she's been busy. You know with teaching and all." I nod, understand of the girl's situation. After graduation, Brittany went to LA to live with Santana. She got into community college in Lima, but she turned it down. While Santana's in college, Brittany worked at a club as a dancer and then a woman offered her a job as a choreographer. And that's exactly what she's been doing. Everyone's proud of her and I think Rachel looked up to her as inspiration because Brittany didn't even go to college and she still manages to catch her dream.

"Oh my God. Who the fuck is that? She's fucking fine as hell!" I look at the direction Santana's eyes are at. I almost chocked at the sight. And then I start laughing. "Oh no, you're going all cray cray now?" I shake my head, finishing my bacons.

"That's Emily. She's my counselor and leader, helper or whatever."

"That's your counselor? Her? Damn. I'd be okay the minute she opens her mouth. She's any good?"

"What the fuck, San? I'm not here to goof around. I'm here for Rach, remember?"

"What? That's not what I mean you dumbfuck. I meant was she good as in giving advice and shit. You're the one who's thinking about doing the nasty." I blush and finish my drink.

"Yeah, she's good. She's actually better than what I thought she'd be. She's more of a friend than a counselor." I smile back at Emily when she sent me a small smile. "Well she's into you." Santana says.

"Don't be ridiculous, San."

"She's totally into you. I've been staring at her for a while and she still choose to look at your ugly ass instead of my sexy Latina's face. See? Totally into you." I laugh and she smiles at me.

"You're getting better, Q?" she asks, kind of whispering. I clench my jaw and pull my hair back. Am I? Getting better? Gosh, I don't know.

"I have no idea what okay is right now. I just want to get out of here so she can finally be mine again but at the same time I don't want to live because people don't judge here and they all understand me. They're me."

"You're happy here?"

"I'm happier with her. I'm doing this for her."

Everything I did, do, it's all for her.

The station is fairly empty. There were few people waiting, some sleeping and some running around. I'm just standing here, waiting for my mom to pick me up. She sounded so excited that I'm finally out of (she likes to call it treatment center) rehab. I feel different but not really, I'm still me. I'm just clean.

"Quinnie!" I've always hated that nickname but right now, it's making me smile so big. I turn around and my mom is hugging me as tightly as she could, dropping kisses all over my head. I feel like a lost child that has been found.

"I miss you, mom." I whisper and she's crying. I giggle at this.

"How are you, sweetheart?" she asks, fixing my hair and the lipstick stains on my face.

"I'm good, mom. I'm really good." She hugs me again and again, I laugh.

I can sense someone's watching me, so I look up from my mom's shoulder.

It's her.

She's wearing an all-black outfit with a sunglass. She reminds me of a Russian spy and people might not recognize her by what she's wearing, but I know it's her. She's nodding towards a door on her left. It's a toilet.

"Mom, I need to go to the toilet. You can just wait in the car, okay?" she nods and dropped me one last kiss on the cheek before carrying my bag and walking away. Every step I'm taking as I'm walking towards the toilet is nerve wrecking. I don't even know why I'm so nervous.

She's staring at her reflection in the mirror, the sunglass on the counter. I can see how tense she is.

"Rach—" she wraps her arms around my neck and lay her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her waist, slowly lifting her off the ground and kissing her head.

"I—I did it, Rach. I did it. I'm clean now." I say and she has her legs around my waist.

"I love you, Rachel. I love you so much." My heart is beating so fast. I miss holding her like this. She sighs and I can feel her tears on my neck.

"I'm so proud of you, Quinn." She whispers and it breaks my heart because that's not what I wanted to hear. I want her to tell me she loves me. I want her to look into my eyes. I want her to put her hands on my cheeks. I want her to kiss me. I clench my jaw and close my eyes. She's unwrapping her legs and I put her down on the floor. I take her hands in mine and I can feel something. She looked confused and then her eyes widen and she let go of my hands.

I take a deep breath, my eyes still on her, my jaw still clenching. I grip her left hand hard and look down.

It's a ring, a diamond ring. On her ring finger.

"Quinn—"

"Is that why you went to Paris?"

"Quinn,"

"He asked you there, didn't he?"

"Qu—"

"How much does it cost? Looks expensive. Or maybe that's because I couldn't afford anything."

"Quinn can you please—"

"Please what? Listen? Let you explain? What else is there to explain? I did everything, Rach. Everything! I did everything you asked me to do. I work two jobs, I dyed my hair, I chased you around like a stupid puppy, and I went to rehab like you asked me to! You told me if I'm clean, you'd come back to me again. And this is what I get?"

"Quinn—"

"I love you, Rachel. And I will never stop fighting for you. But right now… right now," I clench my knuckles, "I just cannot be here. I just can't look at you right now. It hurts too much."

I put both of my hands on her cheeks and press my lips to her forehead. She's crying and shaking, hands gripping my biceps. I rub her back and her neck as she cries.

"Quinn." She whispers. I close my eyes, lips still on her forehead. When I pull away, she's holding my hand but I didn't look back, I just walk away.

I re-applied my job at the coffeehouse and the diner and I'm glad they still want to hire me. I also still sing at the same street, with the same intention. I stopped crying and grieving after 2 days because I'm just too tired to cry. I kept thinking about her and him and it's killing me. Santana kept hugging me and telling me it's going be fine but I know it's a lie because I know she doesn't believe in what she said too. It's not going to be fine, it's getting worse. The more I fight for her, the more heartbreak I'm going to get.

But I will never stop fighting.

"You know you should play at a bar." Someone says. I look up and see it's a man in a black hoodie and a leather jacket. He offers me a cigarette, and he lights it up for me.

"You remind me of—"

"Johnny Depp?"

"More like John Paul White, actually." He smiles and sits down next to me, looking at people passing by.

"Ah, I like your answer better. That man is good." I agree.

"Why not play at a bar? You'd get paid more than that," he pointed at my guitar case.

"I'm not here for money."

"You're playing for someone, huh?"

"My girlfr—ex girlfriend." He nods and looks at me with a small smile.

"And why here?"

"We used to sit on that bench at midnight." I nod toward the bench in front of us.

"I'm Alan. You are?" I look down at my guitar for few seconds.

"I'm Lucy."

"Are you singing here hoping she'll find you?"

"Part of it, yeah. But I'm singing here because I just miss her."

"Sometimes, there are producer at my bar, looking for new artist to be sign. You should play there."

"I'm flattered but like I said I'm not singing for fame or money. I'm singing for her."

"I know and what if one day you'll become famous and she notices you?" I bite my lips and stares at the bench in front of me.

"Hey, I'm not forcing you to answer this today. Take your time. I just want to help you and our music industry. Here's my coffeehouse/bar address." He says, throwing couple of dollars and a piece of paper inside my guitar case.

"Think about it alright?" he walks away without waiting for my answer.

I'm confused whether this place is a bar or a coffeehouse. There are bookcases on the wall, fill with so many great books and this place, it looks rather old. There are few people on their laptops, talking, laughing and some are reading. It's too quiet for a bar but too loud for a coffeehouse.

"Hey Lucy!" I turn my head at the bar counter. "You made it here." Alan says, walking towards me.

"Sit down. Do you want anything to drink?"

"Regular coffee, thanks. What's this place? A coffeehouse or a bar?" He chuckles.

"Both. It's a package," he smirks.

"Can I ask something?" He nods. "You're not trying to flirt with me, right? Because—"

"Whoa. No! I mean you're beautiful Lucy but I'm very much engaged to that beautiful girl right there," I look at where his pointing. He's right, she is beautiful. She's reading a poetry book while listening to her iPod.

"She's beautiful."

"She's also mine." I chuckle at this.

"You want to sing here?"

"I've thought about what you said… and maybe you're right."

"No, Sarah, my fiancée, was the one who introduced me to you actually. She told me about you one day and I thought eh, what the heck, I could really help our music industry." He says while he's on his phone, probably texting. He waves and points his finger at me. I look behind me and his fiancée is looking at me, her eyes are wide. I wave at her and send her a smile.

"You're that girl on that street." She says after putting down her book and walking towards me and Alan.

"I like you voice and your songs—it's your songs, right?" I nod.

"Did you ask her to come?" She asks Alan. And when Alan nodded, they fist bumped. "Awesome job, dude." She says. I really like this people.

"You look different… oh your hair! What happened to you hair?" she asks. "She used to have this really awesome pink streak on her hair," she says to Alan when he opened his mouth.

"Get tired of it, I guess." I shrug and she nods.

"I hope The Looker's here tonight." I look at them both, confused.

"The Looker is what we called the producer because they all have the same look. Not appearance but the look of their eyes. They tried to look like they're just regular customer trying to have some coffee or beer but their eyes tells different story. They're a looker alright."

"Are they here now?"

"I don't think I should tell you. I want you to sing like you always sing at the street. You know when you get famous, I will tell the world, my fiancé—actually technically I—discovered you!"

"Wait. Hold on. I discovered her."

"Dude, I asked you to find her, okay? And where are your manners, ask if you she wants anything." His eyes widen, 'coffee?' he mouths, I nod and he walks away. "He's weird like that, sorry." I shake my head, smiling.

"He's cool."

"And he's cute too, right?"

"Yes he is. But he's not really my type."

"What is your type?"

"Girls." I answer with a smirk and she laughs loudly.

I have absolutely no idea who's a producer. I was hoping those producer will drop some hint, like maybe; they'd be wearing a suit but no. They all look the same. Maybe I need some times to know who The Looker is. I kept telling myself to not set my hope high because I might not even get sign but I also kept thinking about what Alan said. I want to do this because I want to be with Rachel, so I can have money and make her happy. I'm desperate.

"Ready, Lucy?" Sarah asks, bringing me a cup of coffee. I nod and she put down the coffee on the piano. I choose to play with my guitar, like I always do.

"H—hey my name is Lucy and I hope you enjoy my performance." I look around and they all just keep talking to each other, some laughing and some looking rather bored. I wonder if what I'm feeling now is what my teachers used to feel.

"All I want is nothing more, to hear you knocking at my door,"

I don't know what's happening in front of me because I close my eyes but they stop talking, there's no sound except for my voice and the sound of my guitar. I keep picturing Rachel (like I always do). I really want her to be here, to listen to me because this song is for her and I need her to listen to it.

"But If you loved me,
Why'd you leave me?
Take my body,
Take my body.
All I want is,
And all I need is,
To find somebody.
I'll find somebody,

Like you…"

I stop strumming and slowly open my eyes. There are people who are clapping, people who are wiping their tears—mostly girls—people who walks out of the place and there are people, who just stared at me, their face full of pity and sadness. I smile back at the girl who gave me a small smile; she was the one who's crying with her friend.

"Told you she's good," Sarah says, with tears inside her eyes and I can't help but to laugh.

"That's a great song, Lucy. Did you write that one?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Well you'll find somebody. I can assure that." Alan says, hugging me after Sarah cried on my shoulder.

"Excuse me," I turn around and a man wearing an old hoodie approaches us. "May I speak to you?" I nod and walk towards his table.

"Are you a professional?"

"No, I'm not." I answer.

"Was that yours? The song?" he asks and I nod. "Well, it's beautiful." A girl walks towards us. She was the one who walked out of this place just now.

"My name is Adam and this is Melissa." I shake both of their hand. Sarah put down the cup of coffee in front of me and wink. "Lucy." I say.

"We're from Stevenson records and we're looking for a new artist to be sign."

Rachel, I'm halfway there baby.

I feel like an outsider here, at the record label. Almost everyone here uses fancy instrument. They have expensive guitars (some of them were autographed by famous singers like Jon Bon Jovi and Marcus Mumford), drum kits and pianos that cost probably more than my apartment and here I am, with my old acoustic guitar. They didn't judge my guitar, they just smiled and I'm glad. Because this guitar—the guitar Rachel bought for me—it's not going anywhere.

"How many songs have you written?" Adam asks.

"Too many." He, Melissa and some other crew laugh.

"All for the same person?" I nod. "Well I hope you're not going to turn into the next Taylor Swift." This time, I'm the one who's laughing.

"Trust me, I'm not."

"Why not?" Melissa asks.

"I don't write songs for multiple boys. I write for girls." They all smile. "Do you mock them too?"

"No. Most of my songs are for one girl only."

"Let's get started then? You just have to read this, and if you agree, then go ahead and sign it." He hands me a file, fill with documents. "Take your time. No rush. We're not looking for the next pop sensation; we're looking for a musician."

They asked me to be the opening act for a band and I didn't hesitate to say yes. They're amazing. Felix, the singer, as I expected, is such an amazing person. Rachel and I went—we sneak in because we couldn't afford it—to their concert and it was one of the best concerts we've been (sneak) to.

The crowds aren't big nor are they too small. I like it. It's not like Justin Bieber or whatever today boy bands' concerts look like, we're playing indoor and this soothe me a little bit. I'm nervous, of course, but I keep Rachel's picture next to my shirt pocket and I'm using my guitar, so it's fine.

"You ready for your first gig?" Melissa asks.

"I think so. Yeah." She smiles at me and grips my shoulder. "You can do, trust me. Take a deep breath, think about her and do your thing."

The crowds are talking to each other's; probably know that the band they paid to is not going to perform anytime soon. I walk to the stage and stands in front of the microphone while I look around the crowds. Some of them are looking at me like I'm an alien.

"Hi, my name is—Lucy and I hope you enjoy your day." I want to smack myself for saying that, but it's too late. I look at Adam and Melissa, hiding behind the curtain, giving me thumbs up. I take a deep breath and start to strum my guitar.

Treat me beneath this clear night sky
And I will lie with you
I start to feel those butterflies
When I'm next to youTell me your secrets
Give me a friend
Let all the good times flood in
Do I love you?
Do I hate you?
I can't make up my mind
So let's freefall
See where we land

I just keep on singing and strumming my guitar. My hair is all over my face and I'm sweating. I'm also thirsty but it'll look stupid for me to stop and to drink some water. Just think about her, Quinn. Think about her. I didn't look at the audience because I'm too shy and nervous and I have tears in my eyes.

It's been this way since we were young
We'll fight and then make up
I'll breathe your air into my lungs
When I feel your touchTell me your secrets
Give me a friend
Let all the good times flood in
Do I love you?
Do I hate you?
I can't make up my mind
So let's freefall
And see where we land

Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!

They're yelling my name and cheering for me. I look down at guitar pick that fell down in the middle of the performance and how sweaty I am. I feel gross but not really because when I look at the crowd, I feel okay again. Not completely but I'm okay.

And this, right here in this moment, I know that I'm in the right place. I'm doing what I love for someone I love.

Melissa eyes my notebook, biting her lips.

"You know if you keep writing and keep singing, I think you might beat Taylor Swift." I laugh. "What's with you and Taylor Swift?" She shrugs.

"She's a great writer but I think she needs to date regular people. You know? Celebrity's a bitch. No offense."

"I'm not a celebrity."

"That is true, Lucy. You are a singer who will save my apartment." She puts down the notebook and looks up at me. "I approve. On all. So we will record 2 songs tonight and see how it goes tomorrow. I can't wait till I'm famous."

"How are you going to be famous?"

"I'm the one who makes you famous, Lucy. Be grateful!"

"I don't want to be famous."

"Everyone wants to be famous."

"Well not me." She cringes. "I want her to love me again." Her expression changes, she looks sad and she smiles at me.

"She's such a lucky girl. Come on! Let's record more songs, okay!"

Today is my birthday and I still miss her like she just left yesterday.

I don't know what to do because they gave me an off-day. I told them I don't need it but they insisted. So now I'm all alone in my apartment reading the same books I've been reading—If you can call staring at the same paragraphs for a while reading, that is—for the past couple of years. I've checked my after I took my shower and there are birthday wishes. From mom, Santana, Brittany, Emily, Mike, Sam, Puck, Mercedes, Artie, Blaine and there are also wishes from what Sarah called 'my fans'. They're my supporters, I don't have a fan. I can't help but to see if Rachel's send me anything. She didn't and my heart broke a little bit more.

I glance at the clock on the wall.

8:15 a.m.

I sigh, put the book down and finish my coffee. My eyes wander around the apartment and then I stop at one picture.

Picture of Hiram, Leroy, Rachel and me.

Neither they nor I have talk to each other about how Rachel's engaged to someone else. To him. They knew she left me, I called them asking where she were but after that we just stopped talking. They were the parents I never had. I love my mom, with my all heart, but she's a mother and sometimes I need a father. And I'm lucky to have two amazing men as my father figure. Well had.

I put on a sweater, jeans and a boots.

I hail a cab and call Sarah. She's also now my manager. She pretty much begged me for it.

"What's going on, boss? Also happy birthday!" I roll my eyes. "Thanks. Can you help me?" I ask.

"Dude, you're my boss. It'd be stupid if I can't. What do you need?"

"Can you book a plane ticket to Lima?"

"Lima? Ohio?" I nod.

"Lucy?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Why?"

"Can you just do it, please?" I'm begging now.

"Yeah, of course. But isn't it too early?"

"No. It might be too late. Do it as quickly as you can alright?"

"Okay. Lucy, what are you doing for your birthday?"

"I'm going to Lima."

"Why?"

"Just because, okay? Text me the information later." I hang up and look at the scenery.

"Can I smoke in here?" I ask the driver.

"Yeah. Do you have any extra? Kinda need it." He says, rubbing his temple. I nod and hand him one. "No light?"

"Shit. I forgot to bring my lighter." I say as I'm searching around my pockets. "No worries, give me yours." I give him my cigarette and he lights it up using the car lighter.

"Thanks."

I check my phone and sure enough, all the information that I need are in one text. This is another reason why I agree to hire Sarah. She's fast. After I close the message, I stare at the wallpaper. It's a picture of Rachel. She wasn't looking at the camera but she's staring straight into my eyes with a soft smile. I took the picture as I was snapping pictures of her sleeping. When she saw the camera, she immediately smiles. She looked tired, but beautiful. As always.

I sigh.

I'm standing in front of the Berry's house. I'm looking around the garden, the window of her old room. My old room that I rarely used.

"Quinn?" I look at the front door and smiles.

"Hey Hiram,"

"Oh my God, Quinn!" He wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek. "It's really you." He whispers.

"It's really me." I reply.

"You look so different." He says, staring at me.

"Oh where are my manners. Please, come in! Where's your bag?" He looks around me, behind me.

"Just this." I point at my bag pack and the guitar case.

He nods and let me in. He points at the couch. "I'm going to make some drinks okay? Make yourself at home, honey." Those last words make my heart stops beating for a moment. That was the exact words he said to me after I got kicked out from my house because apparently to Russell Fabray I'm a sinner and I don't belong in his house. I don't and I didn't regretted any decision I made when I told him that I cannot be fix.

"Happy birthday, Quinn." He says as he puts down the drinks and sits in front of me.

"You—you remember?"

"Of course I do, sweetie. How could I not? You're my daughter too." We both smile and I look down at the drink he made. Hazelnut white coffee with a pinch of cinnamon on top. Rachel used to make the drinks for me all the time because of my need to write. She claimed that I write better when I drink that. She's right.

"Have a drink, Quinn." He says, already sipping his. I nod and pick up the mug. I smell the scent first. It smells different. I sip it and put the mug down, disappointed.

This is not her coffee. It's the same drink, sure but it's not her's. I don't know what I expected but clearly I'm hurting over a coffee.

"I'm so sorry about what happened, Quinn." He whispers, his eyes on the floor. I look down too, playing with my fingers and I nod.

"I miss her." I whisper back. He looks up and wraps his arm around my shoulder. "I know, sweetie. I know. She misses you too." I pull away and rub my eyes, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

"She does?"

"Of course she does. She was in the relationship too. She loved you." I look down at the past tense he uses.

"She loves him now." I say. He didn't say anything. He sends me a half smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Can I—can I stay here tonight?"

"You can stay as long as you want. I'll prepare your room, okay?" He says, standing up. "Wait!" I yell. He startles and looks down at me.

"Can I sleep in her room? Please?" Again he sends me a half smile and nod.

I look around the house and there are so many pictures of her and her dads. There used to be a picture of me kissing Rachel beside Hiram and Leroy's wedding picture. I look at the table where it used to be. The pictures are still there. Of Hiram and Leroy. And us.

"Babe, I'm home!" someone behind me yells. I turn around and Leroy stops his movement.

"Quinn." He says.

"Hey, Lee."

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh you're early! We have a special gues—," Hiram looks at us, looking at each other.

"What are you doing here?" Leroy repeats.

"I—My boss gave me a day off today and I don't have anything to do. I—I hope you don't mind?"

"Are you sleeping here tonight?" I nod. "If that's okay with you? Just one night."

"Yeah, sure." He says, loosen up his necktie. He gives Hiram a peck on the lips and walks upstairs.

"Guess someone had a bad day at work today huh?" He giggles, awkwardly. I smile and turn back around.

Before Rachel and I moved in together, Leroy and I had a talk. He said he trusts me to take care of his daughter and he asked me to not break her heart. He also said if I break her heart, I will not be forgiven. He was always the protective one. We used to be close. We talked about footballs, news, and our obsession with books. It all stops when Rachel left. He was never the one who picked up the phone or reply to my texts and emails.

I know. I know that he hates me. I hate me too. Losing Rachel is the worst thing that's ever happened to me but what also hurts me is that I lost yet another father.

Her room looks the same.

When I walked in just now, I thought I was Lucy Pevensie. I thought I was walking through another world; Narnia. It feels like another world because after we live in New York for a couple of months, Rachel's style changed slowly. Day by day I watched her changes. I never told her this but I miss the old Rachel. The old Rachel who used to wear what she wanted to wear because she doesn't care about what people think.

I walk towards her vanity and slide my middle finger across it. I slide my fingers across her dream box. She didn't bring the dream box because she said she's living her dream. I asked her once if I can open it and she said no, I never really did want to know what's in it. Until now.

I stare at it for a moment. I clench my jaw and walk away from the vanity.

I look at the view outside her window. I used to sit beside the window to write because the view's amazing.

I look down at the bed and my eyes are getting blurry. This bed is full of memories. Rachel and I used to cuddle while we watched some movies, late at night before we even started to date. We had breakfast in bed all the time and we also had our first time here.

I sit down slowly and look at the left side of the bed. Her side. I lay myself on my side, looking at her side and trying to smell whatever I can. Her scents are gone, but I close my eyes and start to imagine things and I can smell her now. I can even see her.

I turn off the lights and turn on her Christmas light (she went through a hipster-girl-from-tumblr phase once) on the wall. I take my guitar and sit down on the floor. And I write.

I write about her, in her bedroom on my birthday because without her my birthday is just another plain day.

So that's what I do on my birthday. I write and I cry.

"Hey, why don't you sing me a song?"

"What song?" I ask.

"I don't know. Whatever you want to play, I guess." Sarah can be such a pushy sometimes; I don't know how Alan can stand her. I pick up my guitar, sit down on the floor.

"Mind if I record this?"

"Why?"

"Because you need a youtube account."

"I do have a youtube account."

"I meant yours. Yours as in where you share your music, Lucy. You're so slow."

"Do you want me to sing or not?" She nods. I tap my guitar for a couple of time because I don't know what song to sing and the camera is giving me anxiety. I guess Sarah notices this because she put the camera down on the floor and smiles at me. She nods at me, I nod back. I take a breath and strum the strings.

There's no one in town I know
you gave us some place to go.
I never said thank you for that.
I thought I might get one more chance

Out of nowhere Sarah starts to tap the floor with the same rhythm of the guitar. I just continue strumming.

So what would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance.

I close my eyes because it's getting too much. I think Sarah is tearing up, I don't know for sure, my eyes are still close. But I guess she is, she always did whenever I sing. It's weird and amazing at the same time.

Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asks, I open my eyes and nod.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Was that for her too?"

"Who else?" She smiles and wraps her arms around me.

"You do know that song was about people leaving you as in not here in this world again, right and not for a lover who left?" I nod.

"Well she is my world and she left me and I like that song. She—she likes it too." I look down, biting my lips.

"This is such a hipster scene," I look up at her, "what do you mean?"

"The wall with the beam of light focusing on you, the wooden floor. You." She says.

"Me?"

"You're a hipster, Lucy. Admit it," She's an idiot but yes. I am. Rachel used to call me her hipster girlfriend whenever I woke up in the morning writing with my messy hair. Later on she served me coffee and messed up my hair. I used to think it's annoying and irritating but I'd do anything for her to call me that again. I need her to do that to me again.

The video was a hit. For me, at least. It got 98,000 views on the first month. Sarah said it's not a hit, but it's the beginning and to be honest, that's enough for me. She asked me to read the comments because it made her laugh, I refused but here I am, reading the comments.

'She's such a hipster'

'I love your voice and your style. Keep on singing! Why are you on the floor though?'

'Is someone's tapping the floor? Buy a freaking drum.'

'She's cute, and I'm a girl. New fan for sure! LesbianforLucy. '

'She's wearing a plaid, short-messy hair, hipster looking guitar… gay.'

"Nice cover, hope you'll get signed one day. Oh and cool guitar."

Sarah's an idiot. But she's right; it kind of did make me smile. There are also comments about how they saw me performed at the bar and some saw me performing as the opening act for few bands. They actually gave the name of the bar and the next day the bar was pretty crowded. There were no people whose reading and talking, all of them have their eyes on me. I actually felt a little shy.

Sometimes whenever I play I think I saw her, I can sense that she's there, watching me sing for her. But then I feel stupid again because why would she be here watching me when she lives a way better life. I always imagined it though, I also kept her picture on my pocket every time I sing or simply play the guitar because sometime Santana sings.

Emily comes pretty often, not as my helper or anything but as a friend. We're pretty close, sometimes too close. I hated that. That's why whenever we get too close; I'll keep my distance for a while. She used to call and text me, asking me if I'm okay but after several times she stops doing it. I think she understands.

She's here now—with all my other friends—smiling at me while drinking the beer. I feel like I'm cheating on Rachel because my heart actually feels calm sometimes when I look at her. I'm not in love with her, I'm sure of that because what I feel for her was not even close to what I feel for Rachel. But I'm not going to deny that I do feel something for her. How could I not, she's been there for me.

"Yeah, Lucy! You're so hot!" Someone yells after I finish my last song. It was Santana.

I wipe my sweat and walk down the stage and some people start to block me, mostly girls, asking me to sign an autograph and to take some photos with them even though I always look like shit after my gig.

"Can you sign this for me?" A blue-haired girl asks, holding up her iPhone. I raise my eyebrow. I think I hear her sigh.

"Are you sure? That thing is expensive." I look inside her eyes and she blushes.

"Y—yeah!" I take the iPhone and sign it.

"Have a nice night, thanks for coming." I pull her into a hug. "I like your hair, by the way." I said when I pull away. Her friend grabs her, her eyes still on me, waving. I chuckle. What happened to the days where girls fangirl over boy band?

"Those girls are all offering their vaginas to you, you know." Santana says, Brittany chuckles while playing with her phone.

"Gosh, they're like 15, San. Stop." Emily hands me a water bottle.

"Great show, I like the last song." She says and I smile.

"So you have 3 days off because you clearly need it. Are you hungry?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Can we buy sandwich and go to the place?"

"THE place?" Santana, Emily and Sarah ask, Brittany still playing with her phone.

"Yeah."

"Why are you torturing yourself?"

"I just miss it."

"Will you sing?" Emily asks. I think for a moment.

"Why not, right?"

They all nod and off we go.

I sit down at the normal place I used to play my music at. Santana, Brittany, Sarah, Alan and Emily are looking at me singing from the bench. Today I'm not playing for money or for food, today I'm playing because I miss this place and how it made me feel normal again.

Santana said I should sell the apartment, I didn't say a thing but I know I should too. So I asked Sarah to find me a real estate agent. When the real estate agent arrived and look around my house, I did the same thing. I look around. I asked Emily to come because Santana and Brittany are busy. Emily stands beside me, also looking around the apartment.

I look at the painting on the wall that I did when I was in high school; Rachel was the one who put it on the wall. I look at the floor that has drops of paints on it because one day Rachel decided she wanted to try to paint. I look at the wall that has a hole because Rachel pinned me on the wall a little bit too hard. I look down at the floor facing the window where we used to cuddle because the stars are visible. I look at the collage I made for Rachel for our 2 years anniversary that she glued to the wall. Next to it Rachel wrote, 'I love Lucy Quinn till the end of time' with a black sharpie.

I look around the apartment where we used to sing and dance. I look around the apartment we used to make love at. I look around and realize I can't do it. I can't sell the apartment for a better place because this apartment is full of memories that can't be replaced. This cheap apartment is our home. This cheap apartment has priceless memories.

"Now all you need to do is sign here," The woman said, handing me a paper and a pen. I look at her and then down at the paper.

"I can't." I say, walking out from the apartment.

Emily stands in front of me as I light up my cigarette. She gives me a small smile and then pulls me in her embrace.

Before I start signing, the people who come (fans, that's what Sarah called them) would ask me questions and I'm glad because they usually asked questions about Rachel and it'll calm me down before I start singing and playing. I never give out her name, I never will or what she looks like. They know she's a brunette and that she's the most beautiful thing. But that's it. That's as far as I can go.

"Is that tattoo for her?" A girl in red beanie asks. I look down at my inner forearm. I nod.

"My Little Star?" Her friend asks.

"She's my little star." They all nod like they understand and like they know who she is.

"Hey Lucy, I'd turn straight for you!" A tall guy yells, I giggle and gives him thumbs up.

"Are you making an album? I heard you got signed." The girl who was here last week, and the week before that, (she might be my favorite) asks.

"We're working on it. But the bosses said my songs will be on iTunes soon." I say, looking at Melissa who's rolling her eyes.

"Ready, Lucy?" Alan asks, sitting behind the drum set. Oh yeah, he's my drummer. He always wanted to be a rock star. I nod and look around the band as they give me a nod.

"Ready, guys?" They yell yeah. I kiss my tattoo and start strumming.

Twenty seconds on the backlog, overtime
Just twenty seconds 'til we're swept by the tide
We're treading water in the dead of night
And we're speechless, just speechlessCause you've got me right where you want me
As a tsunami tide rolls over
The landscape that we built a home in
Inside of our minds

We're staring skywards waiting for a sign
Up to our necks in it 'til the day brings us light
And our whole lives are flashing before our eyes
And we're speechless

Cause you've got me right where you want me
As a tsunami tide rolls over
The landscape that we built a home in
Inside of our minds

So we fall and we break
And we make the same mistakes
Like we always, always do
And we crawl, intertwined
Forced apart from the inside
Like we always, always knew

I stop singing and let the audience sing as I keep strumming my guitar and not making any eye contact because right now, I can't. I have tears—I usually do when I sing—and it's pouring so fast. So fast I can't even see what chords I'm playing but they keep singing and cheering so I assume I'm doing everything right. I lean in the microphone and sing the last part of the song, my voice starts to break.

Twenty seconds on the backlog, overtime
Just twenty seconds 'til you're no longer mine.

They clap and throwing stuffs like shirts, teddy bears. I smile and walk to the restroom. Santana's there beside the sink because she knows after I cried during my performance, I always ran to the restroom and she's always been there. I walk to her and she wraps her arms around me.

I go to her show when I have my free time and extra money. Today I do. I don't have any gig, so I asked Santana and Brittany to come with me. I asked Emily too because for some reasons, she calms me down. She doesn't even know Rachel is the girl my songs are for, the love of my life. She just thought we're here for a show. So I bought the tickets, the regular tickets. I doubt she'd see me but I don't really care for that. I just want to see her.

"You sure you want to do this, Q?" Santana whispers. I look at the stage and nod. She grips my knuckle for two times and the drop a kiss on my temple.

"Are you okay?" Emily asks eyes on me. I look at her and give her a small smile and nod.

"Just nervous."

"Nervous? Why?" I look at the stage again, "you'll see." I answer.

When Rachel's characters appear, I can sense Santana's eyes on me. I grip the chair and my eyes are teary. I take a deep breath, not wanting for them to fall. I keep my eyes on her. I don't understand the storyline. I don't understand why they're suddenly singing but what I know is that I miss her. I miss that voice, that smile and her. I miss her so much. So instead of listening and watching what they're singing and what's going on, I think of our times together.

When all the casts bow down and the audience clapping and standing up, my tears finally fall down. Emily was about to stand up but stop when she saw me still sitting down, crying. My eyes still on Rachel. Emily sits back down, her eyes also on Rachel.

"It's her, isn't it?" she whispers and I nod. She pulls me into an embrace. My face buries on her neck as she kisses my head.

"You're right. She's incredible and so beautiful. But you are too."

"Hey, Adam, Melissa?" They both turn to me.

"Can I record a song I wrote when I'm in high school? It's a song for Santana,"

"As long as they're good like your other songs, go ahead!" Adam says.

"Do you want the band to play with you or do you want them to record them afterwards?"

"I don't mind." They both nod. "I think later." Adam says.

"Whenever you're ready, Luce." I nod.

She was given the world
So much that she couldn't see
and she needed someone
To show her who she could be
And she tried to survive
Wearing her heart on her sleeve
But I needed you to believe

You had your dreams, I had mine
You had your fears, I was fine
Showed me what I couldn't find
When two different worlds collide

I smile remembering the reason I wrote the song for Santana. I wrote the night after Santana told me she's gay and that she's in love with Brittany who was with Artie at the moment. She also told me that her grandma didn't approve her 'decision' to be gay and how that hurt her. I held her in my arms and told her everything's going to be okay. After that I also came out to her and we both just stared at each other because of how similar yet different we are. But that's what make us, us. And I wouldn't change a thing.

She was scared
Unprepared
Lost in the dark
Falling apart
I can survive
With you by my side
We're gonna be alright
(We're gonna be alright)
This is what happens when two worlds collide

You had your dreams, I have mine
(You had your dreams, I have mine)
You had your fears, I was fine
Showed me what I couldn't find
When two different worlds collide
When two different worlds collide

I smile when I realize Santana was here all along. She was giving me a look.

"Bitch, was that for me?" she says after Melissa gave me a thumbs up, a sign telling me she's finish recording.

I nod.

"Were you in love with me or something? I know you always gots the hots for me." I roll my eyes and hugs her back.

"That's a friendship song, idiot."

"Seems pretty intimate for me."

"No."

"Whatever you say, Fabray. You must had the hots for me once. How could you not? I'm the hottest girl next to my Britt Britt."

Melissa and Adam shake their head and giggle. Sarah just looks plain bored.

It's all over the news. The date of their wedding, I mean. It's all over the news. I can't go anywhere without hearing about it. Even people at the studio talked about it. I know they don't know who Rachel is for me but it still hurts. I don't want to know. I don't need to know when she'll officially be his. Mom can barely speak when she called me, she said she wanted to come to New York to be there for me but I told her not to come. I don't want her to see me like this. Everyone's there for me and even though I'm glad, at the same time I wish they would just ignore it.

Emily is sitting in front of me on the floor. She looks at my guitar, her fingers tracing on the stickers.

"You're done admiring my guitar?" I ask. She looks up at me, blushing.

"It's really artistic and beautiful. I really like it."

"Can I ask something?"

"Go ahead." I say.

"Do you have any happy songs? I didn't mean you're depressed or anything, I'm just wondering." I smile and nod.

"About her?"

"Always about her," I answer.

"Will you record it?"

"I think so. I wrote it back when we were together and singing it now would be… tragic."

"I understand." She looked at me for few seconds before she looks back down on the floor. Her black hair covering her face.

"Would you like to listen to it?"

"Really?" I shrug, "Why not?" I say and she nods.

So I pick up the guitar and start strumming. Emily's looking straight into my eyes and my mind forces me to look down on my guitar.

Merrily we fall out of line
Out of line
I'd fall anywhere with you
I'm by your side
Swinging in the rain
Humming melodies
we're not going anywhere until we freeze.

I look back up at her and offer her my smile. She smiled back before she bit her lips.

I'm not afraid anymore.
I'm not afraid.
Forever is a long time.
But I wouldn't mind spending it by your side.
Tell me every day
I get to wake up to that smile.
I wouldn't mind it at all.
I wouldn't mind it at all.

You so know me.
Pinch me gently.
I can hardly breathe.
Forever is a long, long time.
But I wouldn't mind spending it by your side.
Tell me
every day I get to wake up to that smile.
I wouldn't mind it at all.
I wouldn't mind it at all.

I clench my jaw, my fingers stop strumming. I slowly look up at her and she's staring back at me. She has tears inside her eyes like she usually does when I sing. Her smile slowly fades away and her eyes drop to my lips. I clench my jaw and drop my eyes to hers too. We both look up at each other's eyes at the same time. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

I don't know what happened, or if I or she said anything but she's right in front of me, leaning in. My body stops moving and suddenly her lips are on mine. I wrap my hand around her jaw and kisses back. It feels good; I miss this feeling, the feelings in my stomach and how it makes my heart beats so fast. I miss the closeness. It feels good and that's it but it's nothing special. It's just a kiss. It was soft but then it was rough. When I tasted her tongue, I pull away and clench my jaw. She looks at me, eyes and mouth open wide.

"I'm sor—"

"No! No! I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. It's just you're so wonderful and romantic. And you're singing with so much passion and it's—I'm… I'm sorry, Lucy." She says, standing up. I grab her wrist and pull her down, causing her to sit on my lap.

"I'd be lying if I say I didn't feel anything for you, Emily. You're so beautiful and amazing, and that's why I don't want to hurt you. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their soul mate, but I'm not that person. You've been there for me when I needed someone the most and I'm glad for that but I just—I love her too much. I feel like I'm cheating on her just because I feel something for you. I'm so sorry, Emily. I wish I can be that person for you, but my heart belongs to someone who probably doesn't even remember me anymore. I wish I could be that person. But I'll only end up hurting you,"

"No. Don't say that. It's okay, Lucy. I'm happy with being your friend. I'm glad that I met you." She smiles softly at me and peck my cheek. "Someday she'll be yours again," she whispers. I can hear her voice breaks but I just ignore it.

Those are the words that I've always wanted to her, but listening that from Emily breaks my heart. No, I don't love her, I'm not in love with her, but I feel something for her. I can fall in love with her, I'm sure of it but I refuse too. Like she said, someday Rachel will be mine again and until that day comes, I will not stop fighting.

Before I release any single they agreed to let me do as many cover as I want on Youtube because it's how people will know me. So I call Emily whenever I need someone to record me.

"What song would you like to sing today?" She asks as she sets up the camera.

"I don't really know. Do you have any song?" She shakes her head but handing me her phone.

"Shuffle a song, if you like it then sing it," I did what she asked me to do and my heart stops when I see the title of the song that appears on her screen.

The Killers

I clench my jaw and keep staring at the screen.

"What? Find a song you know?" Yes, I do know the song. I've always loved it but never really feel connection with the song. I guess I do now. I love the song and hate it at the same time. I'm not sure if I want to sing it because I can't sing like Brandon, but I could try. I just feel a lot of angst (as always just more) feeling and I think this song will decrease it. Maybe, just maybe I'll feel better afterwards. Even just a little bit is fine. I need to feel better.

"Yeah."

"What song?"

" ," She looks up, her hands stop moving. She opens her mouth to say something but before any word comes out, I just nod my head. She nods back.

"Ready?" Again, I nod. I search the chords online and put it in front of me.

I'm coming out of my cage
and I've been doing just fine
Gotta gotta gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

Now I'm falling asleep
And she's calling a cab
While he's having a smoke
And she's taking a drag
Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head
But she's touching his—chest
Now, he takes off her dress
Now, let me goI just can't look its killing me
And taking control

I tried so hard to not let my voice crack but I can't control it. Not when I'm imagining him touching her in a way that I used to. Not when I'm imagining them together.

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
But it's just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
'Cause I'm Mr Brightside

After I finish singing the song, I didn't bother wiping the tears on my face. Emily comes forward and pulls me in her embrace and whispers me soothing words. She even drops few kisses on my temple and cheek.

Today I wake up with the news that I will release my first single. Melissa's the one who told me and Sarah couldn't stop yelling out of joy. I wonder how Alan stands her, sometimes. Santana told me she knew the day would come and Britt baked me a duck themed cupcake. Emily… she was there, as always. She was happy but not like Sarah, she looked a bit sad too but I'm too afraid to ask why.

"What song?" I ask Adam and Melissa.

"Well we were arguing on two songs but we decided on 'All I Want' because it's the first time we both fell in love with your voice." Melissa says, Adam is nodding beside her.

"So tonight you're going to promote your single at the bar. It'll be release next week,"

"What if I don't make it? As a singer, I mean,"

"You will. We have faith in you."

"We all do," Santana says.

Sure, they have faith in me but I don't. I don't even know if I want to continue singing if there's no reason for me to sing. But the look on the people who supported me—my mom, Santana, Brittany, Emily, Sarah, Alan, Melissa, Adam, my 'fans'—I couldn't give up. If I give this up, that'll mean I give up on her. And I'm not doing that.

It's sold out again. Some people actually begged if they could come and see me performing after there's no more tickets available. I can't believe I've made it this far without any intention on getting famous (no, I'm not calling myself famous). It seems like it's just yesterday that I opened up a concert for few bands and singers. The first thing I do with the money I made by selling the singles was I treated my mom, Santana and Britt, Emily, Alan and Sarah, Melissa and Adam to a dinner.

Sometimes when I'm performing I can sense (also sometimes see) the presence of her. I talked to this about Santana and she said it's impossible because she wouldn't go out to a bar alone with her status. I rather she didn't come then see her with him.

"Lucy, I bought your song!" Someone yells, I look around and see a girl with red beanie and a big smile on her face. I smile back.

"Thank you! Which one?" Her eyes widen and she giggles with her two friends. "I bought 'You' because it's really good," She replies.

"Since that's your favorite, I'm singing that as opening song tonight. If that's all right with you guys?" I ask the audience. I'm positive I saw Santana cringed when the audience screamed yeah.

You don't want me, no
You don't need me
Like I want you, oh
Like I need you

They're singing the chorus with me and I can't help but to smile at how harmonize they all sound. There are group of teenagers who are swaying side to side with their arms around their friends' shoulder.

You can't feel me, no
Like I feel you
I can't steal you, no
Like you stole meAnd I want you in my life
And I need you in my life

I can hear the audience is humming together with me and as much as I want to smile about it, I just bite my lips because I know I'll fail anyways. At least this way I can stop the tears. Sarah once asked how I couldn't get over her and how I could cry every time I sing about her and I didn't give her the answer. If she asks me now, I wouldn't have the answer either. I don't know what to answer except that I don't want to get over her.

I'm pathetic, but what's new.

After getting the call from Adam, I headed to the studio without thinking of having a breakfast. I don't really mind though because I know Emily will buy me a coffee and some bagels. I never ask her to buy them for me but she refused to.

"We're doing couple of more songs and then I think we can finally release your first album. Sounds good to you?" I nod, sitting on the couch. My eyes keep shutting because I didn't get much sleep since the last 2 weeks after I heard the news about their wedding's date. Even thinking about it now is making my heart ache.

"Hey, bought you guys some breakfast," Emily and Sarah walk in with two trays of coffee and some sandwiches. Emily hands me my coffee and sit next to me. I quickly grab the coffee and drink it.

"How's your day?" She kisses my cheek.

"Okay. Yours?"

"Good. So you're writing a new song today?"

"Nah. They only need couple of more songs before the album is finish. So I guess we're going with what we have."

She looks up from the papers on the tables. "Is that new?" I look at where she's pointing. I almost forgot I even write that song. Rachel said it's one of her favorite. It's one of mine too because it's simple, it's fun and it did somehow talked about our relationship. Rachel always asked me to sing it and she'd dance around the house and we'd laugh because of how happy and easy our relationship was. It's one of the most beautiful songs I've ever written.

"No. I wrote that long time ago. Melissa, I think I know what I want to record today," I hand her the sheets and she read through it. "The music?"

"Can I use my guitar first and then edit some other sounds later?" She nods and asks me to get inside the room as she and Adam set everything up. Adam raises his thumb, and I start to tap on my guitar.

It's in the way you drink your coffee
and how you have faith in me
and you love your cameras and you tell me that I'm good enough
Girl, you bubble wrap up my heart

And all the things that I used to be afraid of
suddenly it all disappear

And you remain my most favorite thing
and everywhere I go you're here with me
and you remain my most favorite thing
and all the time I keep you near me

The way you look out of the window
and you stay because you know
It wasn't your intention but you can't help but to crash in
Like the way I've been waiting for.And all the things that I used to be afraid of
Suddenly it all disappearAnd you remain my most favorite thing
and everywhere I go you're here with me
and you remain my most favorite thing
and all the time I keep you near me

I didn't notice I was smiling until I turn my head to the mirror on the wall. I keep smiling and keep going.

When I feel like the world has turned its back on me,
when I feel all alone and I'm left with nobody
Oh, when people wanted me to be somebody else
but you love me completely.

I look at them. They're smiling and swaying around. Adam is shaking his head to the rhythm of my guitar. Emily is giving me a small smile and I look down because I can feel my cheeks turning red.

And you remain my most favorite thing
and everywhere I go you're here with me
and you remain my most favorite thing
and all the time I keep you near meAnd you remain my most favorite thing
and everywhere I go you're here with me
and you remain my most favorite thing
and all the time I keep you near me
and all the time I keep you near me

Adam turn off the setting so I can hear them through the glass. He shows me his fist and I laugh. Melissa and Sarah are clapping their hands. It's weird how one song can change my mood completely today. I hope when this song come out she'll be dancing around.

San asked if I could change the way I'm living now, would I change it. I told her yes because before the life I'm living before, I have someone I love who loved me back but now that I've given more thoughts about it maybe I should've said no instead. I may not have the love of my life beside me, loving me like before but I can still be there for her. Even from the distance. If she listens to any of my songs, I know she'd know that they're all meant for her. I don't have her now physically but I always sense her. Before every of my gigs—or concerts, according to Sarah—I'd always imagine of her standing there in front of me watching me as I poured my heart out. Maybe that's why I always thought I saw her.

I have friends, tons of them who supported me. I don't call people who went to my concert, bought my CD, or listen to me on radio, my fans. I actually do call them my friends because they are. I supposed I'd never get lonely because of this, Emily said so but, I do feel lonely. When I come back home all I wanted to experience was the smell of coffee, her coffee, her pink journal opened on the coffee table, the smell of the food she's cooking, her singing and dancing around the kitchen. I missed that. I hate coming back home to empty apartment that's pretty much soulless. Sometimes, I'd put her pink journal (she didn't bring it with her, I don't know why) on the table so I can feel those moments again. I never bother to open it. It's not my place. It works… sometimes. Most of the times, I just feel pathetic.

Mom said she's proud of me because of what I've achieved. Everybody pretty much said the same thing. I am proud of myself too but deep inside I know I think everything I did, every songs I wrote, every tears I let out while singing, every sweats, are not worth it because I don't get the reward. I don't get what I want and need. It's all a waste of time.

"But maybe when Rachel sees how much you've changed and still love her, she'll come back!" Brittany said to me one day when I told her and Santana about my decision to stop writing and singing.

So because of that I didn't give up. I have money to support her although not as much as he does but I can support her. I can buy a new house if she wants. I can be like him. I just have to wait but I can't help but to listen to the devil inside of me saying how that'll never happen.

I walk inside the studio with my guitar in my hand not expecting anyone. Emily's sitting inside the recording room with the door open, her eyes and fingers on the keys of the piano. She closes her eyes and her body flows with her fingers. She has a smile on her face, not a big happy one, but a simple one. Like she doesn't even realize she's smiling. She looks beautiful.

"I don't know you play," I say as I walk into the recording room, startling her. She glares at me and I mouth 'sorry' at her. I sit down beside her and look down at the fingers that are still on the keys.

"Why didn't you tell me you can play the piano?"

"You never asked," I smile, pushing one key in repeat.

"Play me something," She shakes her head. Her cheeks are red and she's looking down.

"Please?"

"What do you want me to play?"

"Anything," She nods. She cracks her fingers and pushes the keys gently. I look at her face as she plays, she closes her eyes again. I focus on what she's playing because it sounds so beautiful and so familiar. So I close my eyes too, trying to remember where I've heard this. The soft melody, the way it makes my heart flutters and breaks at the same time. When she repeats the same notes from before, I finally remember where I have heard this. Rachel had this song on her iPod. She listens to it sometimes before she sleeps.

When Emily stops playing, I slowly open my eyes and sees that she's slowly opening hers too. She smiles softly at me and I smile back at her.

"It's beautiful. What's it called?"

"Kiss the Rain; it's by this Korean composer. His name is Yiruma. He's one of my favorite pianists. Why do you look so sad?"

"I don't know. The melody just makes me sad. What are you doing here?"

"I went to your apartment and you weren't there so I assumed you're here. I decided to just wait because I know you'll be here. New song?" I nod.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course,"

"Will you play…" I unzip my messenger bag and look through it. I hand two piece of paper to her, "this with me? I asked Nora, the keyboard player at Alan's bar to compose it using piano. It sounds pretty good, but I bet with yours it'll be much better," She nods.

"Hey Luce, Emily. What are you guys doing in there?" Melissa asks.

"Emily can play the piano. She can play it really well. Do you want to listen to it?" Melissa put up her pointer finger as she sits down in front of the recording system and finishes her drink.

"Why are you recording it?"

"Who says I am?"

"Well you push some buttons,"

"Not necessarily the recording button, Luce. Go ahead, play."

We both nod and Melissa starts playing the piano. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now
Our song on the radio, but it don't sound the same
When our friends talk about you all that it does is just tear me down
Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name
And it all just sound like uh, uh, uh

Hmmm too young, too dumb to realize
That I should have bought you flowers and held your hand
Should have gave you all my hours when I had the chance
Take you to every party cause all you wanted to do was dance
Now my baby is dancing, but she's dancing with another man.

I can feel that Emily's eyes are on so I open mine and she looks down immediately. She's clenching her jaw and biting her lips. My heart breaks a bit at the sight of her like that. I know why but I refuse to feel it.

Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong
Oh, I know I'm probably much too late
To try and apologize for my mistakes
But I just want you to know
I hope he buys you flowers, I hope he holds your hand
Give you all his hours when he has the chance
Take you to every party cause I remember how much you loved to dance
Do all the things I should have done when I was your man…
Do all the things I should have done when I was your man…

Emily slowly looks up at me. This time there's no smile on her face. Her bangs covering her eyes and I push them behind her left ear.

"Are you okay?" I whisper. She nods, her eyebrows flutters and it reminds me of Rachel. I clench my jaw and drop my hand.

"It sounds great. Don't you think so?" I ask her.

"Yeah. I—I have to go." She stands up, pick up her handbag and walk out the door as fast as she can. Her eyes are on the floor the entire time. I look at Michelle and she looks somehow… broken. She bites her lips and looks down at the recording system. "Are you okay?" I ask her.

"You do know she's in love with you, right? And it's killing her to see you in love with someone else?" I sigh and push my hair out of my face.

"I do. And it's killing me that I'm hurting her. Trust me, that's not my intention. I know how she feels," Melissa looks up at me, frowning.

"I'm in love with someone who's in love with someone else too."

Melissa just gives me a small nod and a sad smile.

The crowds are cheering already and it's not even starting yet. I no longer perform at bar, well sometimes I do but they manage to let me perform in a stage. I prefer performing in underground concert though. To be honest I was jumping and laughing inside when I first saw someone holding up a sign asking to marry me. And now there are more than one sign. Not plenty, but there are more.

"Hey, how are you guys doing tonight?" Crowd of various answers get thrown to me and I giggle, picking up my guitar. I tune the guitar a little bit, and turn my head to my right where Sarah, Adam and Melissa usually stand. They're here. Emily and Santana are also here cheering, as always. Adam gives me a nod and I nod back at him.

"How about we start with slow, happy songs and later go to the good stuffs?" The crowds laugh and someone yells my name, telling me they love me. I smile, sit down on the stool and start strumming my guitar.

Stay for tonight
If you want to
I can show you
What my dreams are made of,
as I'm dreaming of your face
I've been away for a long time
Such a long time
And I miss you there
I can't imagine being anywhere else
I can't imagine being anywhere else but here

I wrote this song for our first anniversary. I sang it to her in her apartment the one she shared with Kurt. She said it's one of the best gifts anyone ever gave to her. I couldn't afford buying anything except our dinner, which was cheap itself but I was saving so I can move to New York. She didn't mind though. When I told I'll buy her a present next week after my paycheck she refused and said that the song was enough. So like any of my other songs I wrote, this song is a present for her.

They say that love is forever
your forever is all that I need
Please stay as long as you need
can't promise that things won't be broken
but I swear that I will never leave
Please stay forever with me

Sarah sits in front of me with her laptop on her lap, typing while munching on her Mars bar. She has stain on her cheek. I stare at her hands and her face. Santana always wonders why I hire her instead of professional and I guess that's why. She's normal. She's not really my personal assistant but she's my friend who I paid to manage my schedule.

"You have chocolate on your cheek," I say, wiping my own. She stops munching, glares at me and flips a finger at me. I chuckle and shake my head.

"Oh yeah you have an interview today," I groan accidentally banging my head against the wall behind me. "What time?" I ask. She looks down at her watch. "Oh, in an hour or so."

"You're seriously just telling me this now?"

"Well I was… busy." I roll my eyes.

I hate interviews. I hate them because it's annoying and it's a waste of time since almost everyone knows I'm writing a song for the same person and that the person is a girl. I don't know why they always ask the same questions but I don't want to seem rude so I'll just answer them, even though I'm tired of answering the same shits.

I always light up my cigarette before every gig and interviews because it calms me down. Emily said it's because I'm still new in the industry but I don't think I'll ever stop.

The interviewer looks a couple of years older than me. She doesn't really look like the others. She's wearing a simple t-shirt with a dark skinny jean. I slowly walk towards her.

"Hey," I say and she looks up at me, smiling widely.

"Hi!" She stands up and offers me her hand. She gestures to the chair in front of her and I sit down.

"I can't believe I'm actually interviewing Lucy Fabray! It's like a dream comes true," I smile and nod.

"Anyways, how are you doing, Lucy?"

"I'm doing okay, thanks. And how are you…"

"Oh! Jennifer! Silly me. I'm Jennifer and I'm doing really well. So can we start the interview now?" I nod and she takes out her phone and putting them on the table. She crosses her legs and clears her throat.

And the interview start in 1…2…3

J: So what did you do today?

LF: Well I woke up, get dressed, skip breakfast, went to the studio and record a song. And now I'm here.

J: Seems like you have quite some times to spend.

LF: I guess so, yeah.

J: So Lucy, you're still pretty new in the industry but your name is rising rapidly. Do you happen to have any idea why?

LF: Guess I made some good music for the people to enjoy (laugh)

J: I have to agree with that as I myself am a big fan of you. It's pretty obvious that you're not singing towards a guy in your songs but a girl.

LF: I haven't sung for a guy since… I was born.

J: Well that explains all. Who are the girls in your songs?

LF: There's only one girl in my songs. And she's a very special girl, indeed.

J: But almost all of your songs are sad, depressing songs. Does that mean you and her are no longer together?

LF: As much as I want to call her mine but yes, we're no longer together.

J: What's the story?

LF: The story? The story is that I fell in love with someone who's now in love with someone else.

J: So all those songs are revenge?

LF: No! No! Absolutely not! All of the songs I wrote for her are because I miss her and I want her to know that I'm doing this for her. I'm doing this because I love her.

J: Doing what, exactly?

LF: Well… this. Me being in this industry is because of her. I haven't heard from her for a long time and I want her to know that I'm still waiting and for her to listen to the songs I wrote for her. It's like… Slumdog Millionaire. The guy took part into the competition because that's the only way he can contact her again because the girl watches the show. In my story, music is the only way I can contact with the girl I love because music is her life. We bonded over that because music is my life too. Apart from her, of course.

J: Sounds like could be Oscar winning movie to me. But you're not dating someone else? Not even the Latina?

LF: Santana? Oh no, she's my best friend and she's actually engaged to my other very close friend, Brittany.

J: So how did this happen? You career, I mean.

LF: I don't know to be honest. It seems surreal to me. It was just like yesterday that I sang for couple of dollars at the park and now I'm singing in front of thousands of crowd. But I'm glad I'm here now because I'm at least closer to her.

J: And all of the songs, it's about her?

LF: Most of them, yeah. But I wrote songs about my mom and my friends too.

J: What's your favorite song on your latest album now?

LF: I really can't choose because they all have special meaning for me and for the person I wrote.

J: Does this special girl know that Lucy Fabray wrote songs about her?

LF: (chuckles) it's pretty obvious. I mean it's not that obvious but I put some hints there about her and I know she knows that there's no one else in my heart but her.

J: Some songs on this album seem to say that you're finally moving on and letting go. Is that the case?

LF: I can see why people assume that but no. I'm still fighting for her and I'll never stop. Even though she doesn't need and possibly love me anymore, I'm still waiting because God knows how much in love I am with her. I believe that if it's true love, then it'll come around. I'm just slowing my pace.

J: She's a very lucky woman. Can we get a name?

LF: I'm sorry, I don't think I should do that.

J: Can we have a hint?

LF: She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on.

J: Do you still see her?

LF: I haven't met her in about a year or so. I mean I saw her pictures but that's about it. I only saw it because it's all around and we still share the same group of friends.

J: Can we talk about Emily? You've been seeing out with her a lot.

LF: Emily is… such an amazing person. Such an amazing friend and to be honest she would be an amazing lover. She's beautiful, strong, great listener and she helped me through my hardest time.

J: Is there any songs about her?

LF: Yes.

J: Do you mind telling us which one?

LF: I think you'll know when you listen to all the songs.

J: And this song "When I Was Your Man", you wrote that too, right?

LF: Yes, I did.

J: Are you not telling us something here? Like, do you have extra part?

LF: (laugh) No, I'm sure. Well the story is that the girl I wrote that for, the same girl I wrote most of my songs for, she used to call me her man because she's attracted to both so I'm always afraid that she'd leave me for a man because I'm not enough but she said I am enough that she doesn't need a man or a woman. She needed me. But to make me feel better she called me her man also one of her favorite song is My Man.

J: So she's with a man now?

LF: I rather not say.

J: If she's reading this, what would you want to say to her?

LF: That's hard… but I guess 'Hi' would be good. It'd be a good start. So… hi, you.

J: What would you tell your fans?

LF: My fans? Do I have that? But well I want to thank every single one of you guys who supported me from the beginning and for accepting my music and myself. To you guys who bought my songs, my album, came to my concerts, you guys are amazing and I don't know how to repay you guys. You guys truly make me stronger and I love you guys so much. Thank you, thank you and thank you.

J: Thank you for being here, Lucy. I appreciate your time. I hope everything will be okay.

LF: Thank you.

This is exactly why I hate interviews. They told me they wanted to ask about my new album, career but I know it'd become personal. I used to be secretive whenever I was interviewed but now, I just don't see the point anymore because the listeners know what I meant with my songs. They're pretty straight-forward. So if I lied, they'd just call me liar and make up some bad gossips. I already had some gossips about how I fucked every girls I see and there's so much gossips article about me and Emily.

I shake Jennifer's hand and walk to Sarah who's looking at me with a straight face.

"One of them?"

"Aren't they always?" She chuckles and wraps her arm around my shoulder.

"Come on. Let me treat you a drink."

"If it's at Alan's place it's not a treat. I got drinks for free, Sarah."

"Shush, don't be picky. He made awesome drinks."

"So did she ask about her?" I nod. "What did you tell her then?"

"The truth,"

I look down and put on my glasses when I notice there are paparazzi around. We walk faster towards the cab and I raise my hand when one of the paparazzi calls my name. We get in the car and I can see how relieved Sarah looks.

"Even with her being with a guy now?"

"My truth has limit. She also asked about Santana."

"Really? Well that's a first."

"I just think she asked about her so she can subtly ask about Emily." Sarah nods.

One of the things I hate but love the most is playing in an outdoor concert. There are too many people and it'll usually get crazy but I love it because all of them are there because they want to enjoy music and they truly did, they'd jump around, sing along loudly, and perform a wave. It's amazing but at the same time it's crazy as hell.

Today is nothing different, the crowds are cheering for their favorite singers and bands. I take out my cigarette and light it up. I sit on the stool, legs bopping up and down furiously.

"Nervous?" Santana asks.

"Yeah. Very,"

"You've been doing this for a while, Quinn." I look up at that name. It seems like forever since someone called me Quinn whenever I'm nervous about going on stage. I never did ask my old friends to call me Lucy. I do like Quinn, but I don't know, I just don't want to be Quinn who fucked everything up. But then again, Lucy fucked up too.

"I know," I say, letting the smoke out from my mouth and nose. "Where's Emily?" I ask Santana and she brightens up at this. I know she wants me to move on, to Emily, to be exact and I know it's genuine but I don't need it.

"She's with Britt and Sarah, they're buying food." I nod and look out at the stage where one band is performing. I don't know them but I have to admit they're good. They remind me of The Black Keys or Radio Moscow.

"Next act would be one of our favorite singers, Lucy Fabray!" The singer of the band says and the crowd just goes wild. He nods towards the stage and I nod at him and mouth 'thanks'. I take my guitar and take a deep breath.

"You'll be okay! Go make love to the fangirls," Santana giggles and I walk to the stage.

As I stand in front of the mike, there are already few things on the stage that's been thrown away. I look down and see a bear and a bra with my name on it. I smirk and the crowd (mostly girls) starts screaming again. I shake my head and sit down on the stool.

"How are you guys doing this fine evening?" I laugh at the answers. "Yeah? I'm good too, thanks. So, I've decided to play one of my old songs. I wrote it back when I was in rehab and I hope you guys will like it. It's called Therapy."

My ship went down
in a sea of sound
when I woke up alone I had everything
a handful of moments
I wish I could change
And a tongue like a nightmare
that cut like a blade

In a city of fools
I was careful and cool
but they tore me apart like a hurricane
a handful a moments
I wish I could change
but I was carried away

Give me therapy
I'm a walking travesty
But I'm smiling at everything
Therapy
you were never a friend to me
you can keep all your misery

I look on my right where my friends are watching and I catch their eyes and how sad and guilty they look. Yes, I hated that I was forced to go to therapy, to rehab when all I really need was a long, warm hug. But I don't regret going there because it made me a better person and hopefully Rachel will see that.

Therapy
I'm a walking travesty
But I'm smiling at everything
Therapy
you were never a friend to me
you can choke on your misery

I strum the last chord and give a thumb up and a smile at my friends backstage to let them know that I'm okay now. That I did need it—therapy and rehab—and I'm glad that I have amazing supporters and that I can always count on them.

I don't like attending award shows because I'm always the one who's depressed according to the tabloids. I'm not depressed; I just don't like some of the people there. They're all hiding behind a mask. Sure, they said they care for their fans when really I heard one singer talked about how her fans need to have a life but when she won all the awards, she'd put on a big smile and thanked her fans. She tried to talk to me once, behind stage but Santana saved me. But this is Grammy and it's a big deal for performers.

I bring Santana as my date because I couldn't ask for anyone else without being called lover. I bring her because she's my best friend and she's engaged, even though some people still thinks she's making up the engagement to 'cover' our relationship. We're not mad at this; we just simply laughed and played along.

I did thought about bringing Emily but I think it's too much for what happened to us. It's a bit awkward now, but I know we'll be okay.

"And the Grammy for the best female singer goes to…" the announcer rips off the card in her hand and the man beside her, they're both movie stars, looks down on the card.

"Lucy Fabray!" both of the announcers yells with a big smile on their faces. Santana stands up, hugging me and kissing my cheek, "Congrats, Q. You deserve it," she says and she lets me go. I walk on the stage, slowly, remembering Jennifer Lawrence's moment and I bite my lips so I won't laugh.

I hug both of the announcers and take my award. I stand in front of the mic stand and looks down at the award in my hand.

"Well, this is certainly surprising. I don't even think I deserve this over all those amazing singers. Uh, I—I want to thank my mom, Judy, for raising me by herself. You're an amazing mother and I love you. To my friends, Santana," I point at her with my award, "Brittany, Emily, Sarah, Alan, Melissa, Adam, and so many more that I can't say at the moment because there's time limit, thank you for always being there for me. You guys are great and I love you guys. To my supporters, you are also my friends. Thanks for supporting me, my music. You guys are the reason that I'm standing here and I love you every single one of you guys. And finally, you, this is for you, sweetheart. I love you," I finish my speech with fist bump and walks out of the stage.

I decided to stay behind the stage, in a make-up room because Santana said there are too many paparazzi outside I told her, I'd get a cab after they calm down a bit. I put on my earphones and listen to some music. I open up my 'Relaxing' playlist and let them drift me away. I light up my cigarette and look around. It's messy; there are so many things on the make-up table and clothes everywhere. I hope the paparazzi will leave early because according to what I'm looking at right now, the crew will come back soon.

I hear the sound of a door closing loudly over the music I'm listening to. I turn around and I feel like I can't breathe. Of course, it'd be her of all the people. I rather have the crews here or even the paparazzi. I really don't want to see her and from the look she's giving me, she's thinking the same. I see her mouth moving and I pull down one of the earphone and pause the music.

She's here and she looks so beautiful with her long black dress and her wavy hair. Like the one she wore in high school.

"I'm sorry. I was running away from the reporters. Can I stay here for a bit?" she asks me, her voice is so low, it's like she's afraid of me. I nod and point at the chair in front of me. I push back some of the hair that's covering my eyes and forehead. I look like a mess.

When I open my eyes, she's standing in front of me. I can smell her perfume and I'm doing everything I could to prevent myself from embracing and inhaling her scent. I clench my jaw as she licked her lips.

"May I have one?" She points at the cigarette in my mouth.

"Yo—you don't smoke," I say.

"I feel like I need one right now and I do smoke. Every once in a while," I nod, emotionally punching myself because I think I know why she needed the cigarette. I hand her one and my eyes are on the cigarette as she put it on her mouth and now I'm staring at her lips. "Light," she whispers. I lean in and she moves back, frowning.

"My lighter is out of gas," She nods and moves forward. I let the tip of the cigarette touches hers and I move my eyes from her mouth to her eyes. She looks back at me and I almost drop the cigarette.

I turn around, facing the wall. My heart is hurting so badly. I think it's because my heart was calm not so long ago from the music and out of nowhere tons of pain just crash in. I sit down on the coffee table, not bothering to move any magazines on it.

"What are you doing here?"

"Got an invitation," I answer.

"Congratulation on your award," I nod.

"Congrats on yours," I say. She won award for Best Sound Track Album Best Musical Theater Album and I am extremely proud of her, but I don't think I should say that.

"Thank you," She sits next to me and I close my eyes. I throw the cigarette on the floor and step on it. The sound of my boot startles her and she looks up at me. Even though, I'm not looking at her, I can see she has thrown her cigarette too.

"How are you?" I wanted to laugh at her question and yell the answers. I'm not fine, I miss you, you hurt me, I need you, life's suck, and life's nothing.

"Quinn?"

"I'm okay," I answer. "You look beautiful," I add without looking at her.

"Quinn," she whispers, kneeling in front of me and I look down. She lifts my chin and smiles softly at me.

"Quinn," she repeats.

"I'm so sorry for everything I did. I was a bitch and I know that. I shouldn't have left like that. I should've at least given you some explanation. I—"

"I wanted some explanation. I did. But now? I don't think I want to know. I don't want to know why you left me for him. I don't want to know what he has that I don't. I don't know the reason why he won or why you chose him. I just—I just don't," she bites her lips and stares at mine.

"Maybe… maybe you should stop fighting," I chuckle and she looks mad.

"Remember what you told me? 'I rather live a hard, miserable life with you than having good, easy life without you," I take a breath, "'I'd always choose you," I whisper the last part, tears already rolling down my cheek. I wipe them with the back of my hand.

"So no, I'm not going to stop fighting because I know that you and I, we're eternal. I'm going to try my hardest to win you back, even though I might not even have the chance. I will never stop fighting for you and for us,"

"I want to marry you, Rach," My heart aches even more now, "I want to spend my days with you. Watching movies on our laptop in bed, singing and dancing around the kitchen. I want to disturb you while you're cooking. Walk down the street in the middle of the night, sharing coffee. Not talking to each other for few hours after an argument, raising kids, running around with them and cry together when they have their own. I want to dance around the house because we're too old to do anything else. I want to die knowing that we are each other's soul mates. I want that. I want that more than anything. And I know you want that too. But not with me, with him. And it hurts, Rach. It hurts so much because I'm slowly starting to give up and I don't want that because I love you so much," My voice starts cracking and I'm crying again. I can hear she's crying too. It's loud, the sound of her crying. Next thing I know, she's holding both of my cheeks and her mouth is presses on mine and we're kissing.

We're kissing and we didn't stop kissing.

We're crying and we didn't stop crying.

She pulls back and stares into my eyes. She didn't say anything but I know the answer. I look down as she stands up and fixes her dress. She picks up her purse and walks towards the door.

"If he ever leaves you, I hope you know that you have me and that I will never stop fighting and waiting. You can always come home. I will be there for you, to love you and I will never stop,"

I look behind me and she's looking at the back of my body.

"If he ever leaves me," She says, walking out.

If.

After I arrived home, I immediately wrote a new song because the words are all over my head. So, I didn't bother changing my clothes, I sat down on the floor and started writing.

I'm waiting for Sarah because I think I need to post this song on YouTube. Just so people can listen to it because I want them to feel how my heart is breaking and how I put so much heart in this song. But most of all, I hope she'll listen to the song because I feel like I'm telling everything by writing and singing this song.

"Lucy?" I look up at the front door and smiles at Sarah. "Ah, sitting on the floor, hipster looking clothes, guitar on lap and piece of paper and pen in front of you. Let me guess, you wrote a song?" I chuckle and nod. "And you want me to record it?"

"Yeah,"

"Don't you want to do record it in the studio? As a single or something?"

"No thanks. I want to sing it now," I answer her question. She nods and sits in front of me, setting up the camera. "Ready?" I nod and look at the lens.

"Hi, I'm Lucy and today I'm going to sing a brand new song of mine that I just wrote. It's called "You Can Always Come Home". I hope that the person who I wrote this song for will respond to this song. Enjoy,"

I don't think he deserves you
I'm gonna come right out and say it
Even though I hardly know you at all
That's what makes this so hard
'Cause I remember he hurt you
Told you he didn't have the time
To see you or even answer your calls
After breaking your heart

I know we barely even started
But I fully believe you could have been the one for me
And I miss what we might have had
Honey, I miss what we could have done
I wrote a sad song about it and I'm still pretty bitter
But I'm happy if you're happy, he won
I still miss you in the night
And I want you to know
If he leaves you cold in the city aching for a lover
Honey, you can always come home.

I finish the song with a soft strum and I put my guitar beside me, resting my head on the wall behind of me. I let out a big sigh and close my eyes.

"You should've record that in the studio and use it as a single or something, Luce. That's a great song. Definitely one of the best," Sarah says, sitting next to me. Her eyes are on the paper in front of me.

"I don't need any more money. What I have is enough. I don't even know what to do with it,"

"So many things to do with it, Luce. You could buy a new apartment or even a mansion or a car," I chuckle. "I live alone, Sarah. I don't need mansion or a car. I like living here. It's… full of memories,"

"Memories that breaks you,"

"Maybe, yes. But, this junk of apartment I'm living in… it produced most of the songs I wrote. And I don't think I could write if I leave this place. We worked hard on this apartment; this might be the last thing we owned together," Sarah nods and kisses my cheek, wiping some of the tears on my cheek.

I found her teddy bear. It's her childhood teddy bear, her daddy won it for her in a carnival when she was 5, I think. Ever since then, she'd sleep with the bear. She named the bear, Fanny (of course). It's in a pretty bad condition. I lost count how many times she sewed some holes on Fanny.

I sit down on the couch and stroke Fanny's (only) ear. I wonder how she sleeps at night without this teddy bear. I poke some of the stuffing back inside and sigh. I look at my phone on the coffee table in front of me where my legs are resting. I look back at the teddy bear and grab my phone.

Can we meet at our place tonight, please? I have something to give you.

I put the phone down and stare at the bear again.

"You'll be meeting your owner again, Fanny. I'm sure she misses you," I'm talking to a teddy bear, my ex-girlfriend's teddy bear to be exact. My phone ring and I open the text.

Where's our place?

My heart aches when I read that. Of course she'd forget it. I text her address and wait for her reply. I miss going to that place. I went there twice after we broke up. Both because I missed her too much and wanted to feel her presence.

I'll see you t'night at 1 am there.

I wanted to reply I love you but I refuse to be pathetic right now because I'm sure I will be tonight. I dial Sarah's number and wait for her to pick up.

"What?" Sarah answers, with a grumpy voice.

"Can you sew?" I ask.

"It's like… 8 in the morning and you're asking me if I can sew. Lucy, you're an idiot,"

"Well, can you?"

"Yeah, my grandma teaches me. Why, what's up?" She asks, half-yawning.

"Can you come over and sew something for me? I'll give you two tickets to see Sleeping with Sirens,"

"That's bribery… but I like it. I'll be there at 10,"

"Thanks, Sarah."

"No problem, boss." She hangs up. I take a look again at the teddy bear and I can smell her scent. It's not the smell of her perfume or her facial wash, it smells like herself and I miss that. I miss leaning in when we fell asleep because her warmth and her scent calmed me.

It's 1:42 in the morning and I've been here since 12:30. I don't know why I came so early or why I still wait but I keep telling myself just 5 minutes more. I sigh and put down the teddy bear and the bouquet of calla lilies. I hear footsteps behind me and smile.

"I didn't think you'd come," I say and turn back. When the person appeared from the dark, I clench my jaw, stand up and pick up the teddy bear and the flowers. Of course this would happen. He appears in front of me, I can tell that he's not happy.

"Finn," I call his name.

"Quinn," He says back.

"What are you—"his fist connects with my cheek and I drop the stuffs. The pain is excruciating but to be honest, I'm used to it. I can feel the blood coming down from my mouth. I wipe it with my thumb and run my tongue over it.

"Stay away from my fiancé!" he yells, his finger pointing at empty space. "I don't beat up girls but you need to back the fuck off! She's engaged. She's engaged to me!" he adds, backing away.

"Wait, Finn." He looks at me, anger still on his face.

"Look, sit down. Let's talk." I say. I sit back down on the bench, waiting for him to do the same.

"What do you want to talk about, Quinn? I work hard for her and I'm not giving up on her. I love her," He says, sitting down looking at me. I look at the scenery in front of me. The city at night truly really is breathtaking.

"I know. She's the best thing that ever happened to me and I love her very much. I wouldn't give up on her either and I didn't. She gave up on me. For you," I say, staring at a blank space. "You're lucky, Finn. You're lucky because you wouldn't find anyone else like her, not even close. She truly is one in a million. I hate that she left me for you and I hate you even more for that. I hate you. But, don't ever give up on her because she needs you. She needs someone like you in her life. Someone who can take care of her, cherish her and love her. I know the feeling. The feeling of having Rachel Berry to love you. It's great, it's amazing. It's the best feeling in the world because I've been there. She used to feel that way for me but now she feels that way for you," I look down at my boots.

"I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me that you wouldn't hurt her. Don't you ever lay hand on her. Don't screw up. Love her with all your heart. And—and give this to her, please," I pick up the teddy bear and wipe few dust on it and hand it to Finn.

"That's Fanny. It's her teddy bear. Leroy won it for her in a carnival. She used to sleep with it every night. She said she'll get nightmare if she didn't. If she's sad, give it to her. If she can't sleep and have nightmare, make sure to wrap her arm around the bear and hold her in your arms and whisper in her ear how you love her. Don't let go. If she's mad about something, give her times to calm down and then if you think she's okay, go to her and kiss the bridge of her nose. When she's having a bad day don't ask why or what's bothering her, simply sit next to her and be there for her. If she wants to tell you, she will. She—she likes breakfast in bed. Make her a toast with egg, vegan and orange juice, that's her favorite. Bring home this—this red velvet cake from this bakery in Brooklyn. The place is old and the owner is an old man who always wear red Boston cap and the shop is ugly but the foods are amazing and she likes the red velvet," I look at the bouquet of flowers and pick it up.

"Calla lily is her favorite," I hand the flower to him, "make sure it's white. She said she'd like it to be the flower for her wedding. She doesn't like hot coffee, she likes it warm but not hot. Tell her she's beautiful every day and don't miss a day. Just be there for her like I wish I could. Love her with all your heart. Don't let her go. If you do, I'll be the first one in line to fight for her. I'm not giving up on her, this is not me giving up, this is me letting her be with who she chooses to be with because I want her to be happy and if she's not happy with me and she's happy with you, so be it. I don't care about me, I care about her. I love her and I'll never ever give up on her. Remember that." I stand up and take a deep breath.

"Oh and Finn?" He looks up at me; I think I can see tears in his eyes and I almost walk away but I didn't. I punch him with my right knuckle. My hand is now hurting but somehow it's all worth it. I walk away, tears rolling down my cheeks, my heart's hurting and I feel like fainting but I continue walking away because I know I just let her go to someone I hate, someone she loves.

I came back to my apartment and Emily's here. She's sitting on the floor, next to my guitar. She has my writing book in her hand. She looks up at me with a small smile and she's handing me my writing book. I frown and she nods at the book. I take it and sit down next to her, looking into her grey eyes.

"Be free, Lucy." She says, standing up and walking to the couch. She looks back at me and smiles. "I'll be here, alright?" she lays down the couch and close her eyes. I turn on the empty page and stare at it for a while. I pick up my pen and start my journey. If I could pick one good thing about myself that I like is that I can write songs on the spot. All I need are memories, her face and my heart.

There's so many things that I could say
But I'm sure it would come out all wrong
You got something that I can't explain,
Still try and try and let you knowThat first summer we spent's one we'll never forget,
Looking for any kind of reason to escape all the mess that
We thought was what made us
Ain't it funny now? We can see
We're who we're meant to beYou still have all of my
You still have all of my
You still have all my heartOoh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh oooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh oooh...There's too many times I have to say
I could have been better and stronger for you and me
You always make me feel okay
Those late summers we spent, stay up talking all night
I'd ask "you think we'd ever make it?"
You'd say "I'm sure if it's right"
Ain't it funny to think just how stupid I used to be
Hope you always believeYou still have all of my
You still have all of my
You still have all my heartYou still have all of my
You still have all of my
You still have all my heartLet them talk and talk and talk
Let them say what they want
We will laugh at the thought they don't know what we've got
Every year that goes by, a year older we are
You'll still be beautiful then, bless your beautiful heartThey'll talk and talk and talk
How crazy is it?
Someone could waste their whole life, helplessly,
Just patiently waiting for a love like you and meYou still have all of my
You still have all of my
You still have all my heart

I look up and Emily's standing in front of me. She kneels down and wipes the tears. She smiles and kisses my cheek. She sits next to me and holds my hand, her head on my shoulder. I look down at her and I'm pretty sure there are tears inside her eyes. I don't know if it's because of me crying silently or because I'm hurting her. I hold her hand tighter and lay my head on hers. Her eyes are closed, and she looks tired but still beautiful. I tilt her chin and lean in. I give her a small smile and she returns it. I lean in closer and press my lips on hers. I pull back and wipe her tears, kissing her cheekbone. I really do wish I could love her the way she loves me, the way I love Rachel but I can't. Life would be easy if I could but my life is not easy. It's anything but.

I've always thought that people lied when they said that they can hear their heart beating, I've always thought it was bullshit and not poetic at all. That is until I, myself can hear it too. I'm walking out of my apartment. I look like a homeless person but then again, I kinda feel like I do. I light up the cigarette and enjoy the ashy, copper taste between my lips and in my mouth. I pull down the beanie a bit more just because of the coldness and because of privacy. I keep walking until I'm finally here.

Shockingly the door is not lock; I'm guessing someone's using the studio right now.

"Lucy!" I turn around and face Adam.

"What are you doing here? Melissa didn't say anything about you being here today," he scratches his head.

"No, I didn't make any appointment today but I was wondering if I could stay here tonight? I mean this place is the only place that I can find peace,"

"Would you like me or Melissa to stay to record something with you? I'm sure we can manage our time,"

"I would like to be alone, actually. If that's okay with you that is?" He looks around the small studio and look down at the keys in his hand. He nods.

"Yeah, sure. Make sure to drop it at mine or Melissa's after you're done okay? Have fun, Lucy." He hands me the keys and walks out the main door.

I sit down on the couch, shutting my eyes. I can still listen to the sound of my heart. It's getting louder. I take off my jacket and my beanie, running both of my hand through my hair. I take out my phone from my jeans and turn it on. 47 missed calls and 29 messages. I wondered how I survived this morning without having any alcohol inside my body. I wondered how I survived my life. I wondered how I will survive knowing that she'll be married in a couple of hours. Or if she is married. The news didn't tell me when.

I keep imagining myself there, where she is. Where they are. I keep picturing myself watching her walking down the aisle to her future husband. Or how I would sit there in silence but at the same time loudly begging for her not to go through it.

I take out my notebook and my guitar and get the recording system ready. Melissa taught me how to do it because I constantly asked her how. I walk inside the recording room, sitting on the stool, facing the microphone. My eyes are scanning on the lyrics in front of me.

Is that seat taken
Congratulations
Would you like to take a walk with meMy mind it kind of goes fast
I try to slow it down for you
I think I'd love to take a drive
I want to give you something
I've been wanting to give to you for years
My heartMy heart, my pain won't cover up
You left me.. hu hu hu hu
My heart won't take this cover up
You left me.. hu hu hu hu

My voice is breaking. It's stupid how I choose to record this. I just want to know how the song work out or if it'll be too cruel for me to sing it for the world to listen to. This is the hardest song I've ever written because I didn't put any metaphor or any double meaning behind some words like I usually did. I decided to be straight forward.

I came to see the light in my best friend
you seemed as happy as you'd ever been
My chance of being open was broken
And now you're Mrs. him.My words they don't come out right
But I'll try to say I'm happy for you
I think I'm going to take that drive
I want to give you something
I've been wanting to give to you for years
My heartsMy heart, my pain won't cover up
You left me.. hu hu hu hu
My heart
My heart won't take this cover up
You left me.. hu hu hu hu

And I can't change this
I can never take it back
But now I can't change your mind
(You left me)
And I can't this
I can never take this back
But now I can't change your mind
can't change your mind
(You left me)
Can't change your mind
(You left me)
(You left me)
(You left me)
(You left me)

Go away
Make it go away
Please.

That was not in the lyric that was really me begging. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt something hit my face. I open my eyes and Santana's standing in front of me, also crying. She sends me a small smile and wipes the remaining tears on my face with her thumbs. She wipes hers with the back of her hands.

"God damn it, Q." She wraps her arms around my shoulder and kisses my head. "You okay?" She asks, pulling away. I look down and she's mentally slapping herself for asking.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Why are you here?"

"You're my best friend, Q. Of course I'd be here with you, idiot." I look at her appearance. Too formal for her.

"How was it?"

"Do you really want to know?" I shake my head and she pulls me into her embrace again.

"You're okay, Quinn. You're okay,"

She mumbles that over and over again. I know what she's doing, but it's not working. Not even close. I feel like I need to vomit and let out the grossness I feel inside my stomach. I feel like I need to sleep and not wake up from this nightmare. I feel like I need to drink to erase the pain, even for a while but all I can do at the moment is cry my heart out. It's not that hard anyways; it's a routine, really. I've been doing a lot that after she left me.

Sometimes Emily sleeps at the apartment. Usually after we had dinner or because I was so busy at the studio and she fell asleep so instead of walking her to her own apartment, I always told her to stay. To be honest I kinda like she's always around. It's selfish, I know, but her presence makes me feel less lonely. I always let her sleep first because I don't want her to know that I haven't sleep in my bed since she left.

Tonight however, I think she drinks too much coffee.

"Aren't you going to bed?" She asks.

"I'm not sleepy just yet."

"I saw you yawning more than 3 times at the studio, Lucy. Let's go to bed, okay?"

"You go first; I have something that I needed to do." I say, standing up and walking to the kitchen.

"Why don't you sleep in your bed?" I stop my track. I turn to her and she's looking at the coffee table, her face is blank. I furrow my brows.

"I've been meaning to ask but." she left it at that. I walk to the kitchen and turn the tap on. She's now behind me.

"Is it because of me? I can sleep on the couch. You know I don't mind, right?"

"No, no. It's—I just don't—"she strokes my cheek and gives me a small, calming smile.

"Deep breath," she whispers and I nod.

"It reminded me of her. It even smells like her, still. I tried to sleep on my bed but it hurts too much because she's not there to hold me anymore. I guess I'm not ready just yet." Emily nods and intertwines our fingers. She's walking me to the bed. "Sit down," she whispers and pointing at Rachel's side of the bed. I look and her and shake my head, tears already pooling inside my eyes. "You can, Luce. Try." I look down again and slowly sit down. I close my eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks after few moments of silence. We're both lying down now. She's on my side of the bed and I'm on Rachel's.

"Her," I answer.

"How are you feeling?"

"I don't know but… I like it." She lays down her head on my shoulder. She's stroking my arm and I'm getting sleepy because of the movement.

"I'm—I'm sleepy." I say. She nods and sits up, looking down at me. She leans in and kisses my cheek. "Goodnight, Lucy. Sweet dreams. Have a nice sleep, okay? No more sleeping on the couch. It's not good for your back." I nod and slowly letting my body drifts away. I can feel her warm lips on my forehead and her warm breaths.

"I love you." She whispers, so very slowly and my heart is breaking.

As much as I tried to avoid interview, I could never run away from them. Sarah said its part of my world now and that I have to suck it up. I don't want to hate them but I do. I do because I know at some point the questions will be about Emily and Rachel, without knowing who Rachel is, that is.

"So would you?" I snap and look around for that voice. I see a woman waving her hand and I blush a little.

"Sorry, what was the question? I had a tiring night," I say.

"If the girl in your songs comes back to you, would you stop singing? Since you said that you're only doing this to get her back," I nod and smile. I look around for Santana or Emily or Sarah. Just for an encouragement. Santana put up her fist at me and sends me a big smile.

"I—I don't know to be honest. I mean, yeah, I'm doing this for her, to get her back but if she comes back to me… I think I'd keep on doing it except I'd sing much happier songs," the crowds let out a small giggles, "but at the same time, I don't think that'll ever happen. Don't get me wrong. I want that to happen, I beg that to happen but I know it won't. She left me because I'm nothing and now I'm actually something better than before but she's still with someone else. It's just… I can stop doing this now if I want to, you know? Since she won't be coming back but I'm still around because I like doing this. It's like I'm part of her life. Kinda." Another female put up her hand and I nod towards her.

"So you're saying you don't believe that she'll come back to you like you stated before?"

"I guess so, yeah. It's been years. We've stumbled across each other but I just… I don't think she will ever leave her partner for me. I just have to accept that and fake it till' I'm okay."

"And in your latest album, most of the songs are about letting someone you love go, moving on and giving up. So this is it? No more songs about her?"

"Yes, most of the songs are about letting someone go but it's not me giving up or moving on. It's just me… accepting that I no longer have a place in her heart and that she's happy and I should be happy for that,"

"So are you? Happy, I mean."

"Not really. I don't think I'll ever be happy knowing that someone I love is out there loving someone else but I'm happy for her. I don't know how to explain it. It's hard. I'm sorry," The interviewer gives me a small smile and nod.

"Thank you for sharing, Lucy. I wish you all the best in your future and your music. I really do love your songs. You're a great person," she says, leaning over to hug me. I hug her back and waved at the audience when I pulled away. They're all clapping but most of them have the same look on their face. They pity me. I can even see some of the people wiping their tears.

That's always going to be my life. People would always know me as the girl who was left behind, the girl who couldn't seem to move on, or the girl who wrote songs for her ex in hope that she'll come running back in her arms. I will always be Lucy Quinn Fabray: The Girl Who's Heart Can't Be Fix.

My phone went off one night and it was Leroy. I hesitated to answer because I'm scared of what he was going to say but after few more rings, I answered the phone.

"Quinn?" He whispers.

"Leroy." I say, "What's the matter?"

"It's—Rachel." My heart beats faster than before, I sit up on my bed, running my hand on my forearm.

"What's—Is—is she okay?"

"One of her kidney is not functioning and she's been sick for few months now. She needs donor but no one seems to match. I took the test. Leroy took the test, even Finn took the test but we couldn't help her. I—will you please help. My little girl she needs help. Will you take the test? I know I've treated you badly befo—"

"I'll do it." I say, cutting his words. "I'll do anything to save her life, Leroy. Anything. I love her, you know that."

"I know, sweetie. I'm so sorry."

Santana knew about Rachel but she kept it from me because she knew I'd help her. We had a big argument over this. She told me she just doesn't want me to get hurt again and that me helping her wouldn't change anything. I told her that it doesn't matter because what's important is that she can be healthy again. I also told her that I'm going to hide my identity as a donor and she just hugged me and told me that I'm too nice for my own good. I know, I said.

When I told my mom, she cried (when doesn't she) and told me if that what I want then she's gonna be there for me. She told me that she's proud of me and the woman that I've became. Love changes you, she said.

Adam and Sarah don't mind me doing the surgery if I'm a match. Sarah actually thinks it's very heartbreaking and very 'Korean-movie-like' and it's romantic so she approved. Melissa however asked me to sing one song before I go around and take the test. She wanted me to sing an old song of mine because she said she needed to be happy after such news and so I did.

I can't see through the stars in my eyes.
And I don't recall breathing steady, ever since you've been in my life.
So, let me catch my breath, before you steal it once again.
I should be dead by now.

I swear it, and my heart you know I wear it on my sleeve,
For everyone to see that I am yours and you belong to me.
And nothing in this world could ever make me this happy.So, don't fall asleep
I'm yours to keep
And from here on in, I'm giving it everything.

Cause, nothing compares to what we share.
I don't have a care in the world.
Cause even if it all came crashing down,
As long as you're around,
I'll be safe and sound.

And I'm dying to know what it is that you're thinking.
And I'm desperate to know why it is that I'm sinking,
So deep beneath my sheets.
And I'm struggling to find sleep.
Cause I've been retracing the steps that we took,
Remembering the way that you held me as I stood in the rain,
And I knew that I would never be the same.

So, don't fall asleep
I'm yours to keep
And from here on in, we're giving it everything.

Cause, nothing compares to what we share.
I don't have a care in the world.
Cause even if it all came crashing down,
As long as you're around,
I'll be safe, yeah safe and sound.
Safe and Sound.

You turned my life around.
So far off the ground.
Pick me up, I'm falling down!

And it's all because of you.
And I don't know what to do.
I'm falling in, I think I'm falling in love with you.

Because, nothing compares to what we share.
I don't have a care in the world.
Cause even if it all came crashing down,
As long as you're around,
I'll be safe and sound.Yeah, I'll be,
Yeah, yeah, I'll be safe,
Yeah, I'll be safe,
Cause even if it all came crashing down, down
Cause even if it all came crashing down, down
Cause even if it all came crashing down,
As long as you're around,
I'll be safe and sound.

Emily just sat and smiled softly at me when I told her about my decision after she recorded my performance. She kissed my cheek and told me that I'm a good person and she held my fingers when I told her that I'm scared of what will happen next. She said, 'we shall wait and see' and I kissed her on the lips.

I'm a match.

I'm both happy and scared. I put on my hospital gown and wait in the ward while watching the TV. "Did you bring me my ipod?" I say when I heard the door opened. "San?" I say, looking at my right, at the door. I frown and sit up. "Finn, what—what are you doing here?"

He walks closer to me. He looks terrible with the stubble and long messy hair. His eyes look tired and he looks older.

"I know it's you who's donating the kidney to her." He says and I clench my jaw.

"How do you know?"

"Does it matter, Quinn? Why are you doing this? I'm not letting her go,"

"I know. I'm not expecting anything from you or from her. I'm doing this because I want to, because I love her and I want her to live." He gives me a small lopsided smile and looks down the floor. His hands are trembling.

"Thank you so much. Thank you for doing this. I'm sorry for taking her away from you." His voice breaks. I take his hand.

"It's okay. You love her. I know you do. Just promise me one thing, okay?"

"Anything,"

"Take care of her, that's all I ask from you,"

"I will. I promise." He wipes his tears and hugs me.

I thought of him and Rachel, together. It used to piss me off so badly and it kinda still do but in a way after that moment, I feel like I'm at least letting her go to a guy who really do love her, who can take care of her. I still cry when I thought of me and Rachel together and I still cry when I thought of them together but right now I don't really care because all I care about is her happiness and if I can't have a family with her so be it. She'll have her own family soon with him and in a way, I'm sort of… happy.

I didn't make it.

I died on the surgery table. I remembered seeing the bright lights above me and I remembered seeing me and Rachel, together. We're hugging and kissing and sitting down on our bench, sharing a cup of drink. I saw her in her white wedding dress spinning and dancing around in front of the mirror. I saw me at the end of the aisle with my own white dress on and watching her walked down the aisle with both Leroy and Hiram. She's crying and I wiped her tears. I saw us kissing with happy tears rolling down our cheeks. I remembered seeing us in a living room full of toys. Little Rachel singing using a hairbrush as a microphone performing in front of Rachel and I. A little blonde boy playing with a lion stuffed animal while watching his sister performed. I saw much older us sitting on our bench, sharing a drink and holding each other's hand. I remembered seeing my old self kissing Rachel on her head and smiling.

I even remembered seeing myself smiling on the surgery table before I died.

Santana ran towards the bath room and she kicked everything she saw. Brittany chased her in tears. She hugged Santana and she picked her up when Santana broke down on the floor.

I saw my mom hugging her sister and they both cried. Mom kept whispering why and she yelled for me to come back and for God to bring her little girl back and that she needed me. I felt myself crying.

Emily sat on the chair with her head staring straight at the wall in front of her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks furiously and she didn't even bother to wipe it. She just stared at the wall and bit her lips.

Rachel is alright. She received my kidney and she's recovering. Her daddies were hugging her when I walked into her room and she looked confused. She's holding Finn's hand that was looking down at her with a happy smile. I don't know if it's possible but I felt my heart pounding at the sight.

My funeral took place in Lima. It was at a church my mom goes to after she left Russell. It's supportive of LGBT things and such.

They played one of my favorite songs during the service, Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World. They all talked about their memories with me, both sad and happy. Mostly the latter.

Mom talked about the day she gave birth to me and how she said that the moment she held me she knew that I'm going to change lives. She talked about how I always comforted her when she had a fight with Russell and that I always told her that I'm her superman. She talked about how she lost her superman and how she never had the chance to thank me for everything I've done.

"She's the most perfect daughter anyone could ever wish for and the fact that I never had the chance to tell her that kills me."

Santana talked about how we met and how she thought I was ugly. She shared story about how I was the one she first come out to and how accepting I was and then she said 'she later told me that she loved lady kisses too' and they all laughed.

"She was my best friend and… it's like a big part of me has gone with her. Even though, I think she's still here, somewhere. Hi, Q. I'm gonna miss you and I love you. Thank you for everything." She ran out of the church and the people started crying again.

Sue came too and she talked about how she always knew that I was going to leave a mark to the world by doing something big, she always taught it'd be becoming a prom queen murderer. I could see that she's holding her tears.

Brittany talked about how I was there for her when Santana broke her heart for the first time by not wanting to be her girlfriend. She shared a story about how I bought her a duck stuffed animal and that I held her until she fell asleep when Santana wasn't around.

Emily talked about how I am in person. She talked about how she fell in love with me. How I smiled when I'm happy, when I'm sad or when I'm thinking of Rachel. I can see the pain in her eyes as she talked about her but she continued nonetheless. She said that even for a moment she thought I gave her those smiles too but then she shook her head and talked about how we used to stay up all night writing songs and watched foreign movies.

I did give her those smiles. I fell in love with her. I could never love her like I love Rachel but I did fell for her. I never did anything about it but I would never regret ever loving her because she is an amazing person.

The glee club came. Some of them gave speeches but most of them just stared at my coffin and cried. Russell didn't come, it kinda hurt but I don't really care.

They all went back home afterwards. I sat at one of the bench and looked at myself inside the coffin. Bright light surrounded the church as the door opened. I looked behind me and I started crying. Rachel's wearing a black dress that I bought for her for her audition. She has a sunglass on and she sat three benches from my coffin. She took of her glasses and her eyes were red and puffy.

"I can't believe you're gone." She said.

"I—I can't believe that this is it. This is the end," she wiped her tears and hiccupped. "Why did you do it? Why did you save me when all I did was caused you pain. You literally are a part of me now. You're so cheesy, Quinn" she chuckles and wipe her tears, "I'm so selfish, Quinn. I kept telling you to leave me alone and that I'm happy but I always ended up listening to your songs late at night and crying at the thought of you. I'm so selfish for leaving you when I know that I could never ever love someone as much as I love you," she took a deep breath.

"I always thought that one day I will be brave enough to be in your arms again because that's all I wanted and now you're gone and all I'm left with are memories of us. I'm so sorry for what I've done, I'm so sorry for being a coward for not fighting my ego and my selfishness. I regret everything. I want you to be alive, Quinn. I want to know that you'll always be there for me when I needed you the most and that you'll always love me because no one can love me like you do. But that's all a fantasy now," I sat down next to her and stared at her eyes.

"My heart only beats for you, Quinn. You are my soul mate. This is the day I die. I will always love you, Lucy Quinn Fabray," she stood up and walked towards my coffin where she again cried heavily as she looked down at my body. She caressed my cheek and the warmness of her hand caused me to shiver. She leaned down and pressed her lips to mine. She laid the last kiss of my life.

"I love you." She whispered on my lips and my eyes followed her as she walked out the door.

I always wanted a happy ending for my life ever since I was a little girl. I always wanted that happily ever after but I stopped believing after I grew older and I wasn't so naïve anymore. I never thought I could get a happy ending after Rachel left me but I did. I did get my happy ending. I just hope that she'll be missing me, like I will miss her.

here are the list of the songs I use in this (or while writing this);

come back to me by trading yesterday

all I want by kodaline

where we land by ed sheeran

here you me by jimmy eat world

speechless by morning parade

two worlds collide by demi lovato (couldn't write without her voice on the background)

I wouldn't mind by he is we

mr brightside by the killers (but i was listening to a cover by two guys on youtube)

you by the pretty reckless

favorite thing by yuna

when I was your man by bruno mars (so cliche but bare with me)

james dean & audrey hepurn by sleeping with sirens (acoustic version just because it fits)

therapy by all time low

you can always come home by jason castro feat serena ryder

all my heart by sleeping with sirens

congratulations by blue october

safe and sound by tonight alive

I hope you'll be missing me (like I will miss you) by the perishers

I was a fool by tegan and sara

uncover by zara larsson

the other side by tonight alive

breaking and entering by tonight alive

come home by tonight alive

so there's that. go listen to them, amazing music :)

I have this idea to do this story but with Rachel's pov. If you guys are interested, do tell me.

thanks for reading. I hope you have a great day/night.