Not One For Love

The thoughts are all yours

Rachel always believed that fame was one of those things that she will never tire of, no matter how many paparazzo she fights, nor how busy her life becomes. Fame, applause... She lived for those things like Tinkerbell, and she wanted nothing more than to live the Broadway dream by breathing in the cries of the crowd at her job well done.

She stares at the ceiling of her empty apartment. In her arm chair, a tumbler of chai tea in her hand, no artificial means could seem to warm her. Despite being dressed in her warmest knit sweater, Rachel still shivered. She rubbed her hands along her arms, but it did nothing, so she wrapped herself in a blanket.

The heat was broken.

One letter masked what is truly wrecked. One letter made all the difference.

Each time she allowed herself the downtime to think, Rachel's imagination often wandered to Quinn. She wanted to know how many women she had touched in a day. How many cried out her name as they came. But in all honesty, thinking about it only enabled annoyance and a rage she had no idea how to control.

Rachel didn't want to think about Quinn being with anyone else but her.

In frustration, Rachel got up and shrugged on her winter coat. After sending Brittany a quick text, they agreed to meet up in their favourite diner. A quick bus ride later, Rachel sat on a booth and played Candy Crush on her phone while she waited.

"Hey, what's wrong? That was a pretty urgent-sounding text." Brittany asked, pink-cheeked and breathless as she slid in the booth in front of Rachel. "And I hope you're ready to face Santana's wrath." She tucked her phone back in her purse and locked her fingers on the table.

"I just needed to get out of the house. All this idle time is not good for me. Ever since we finished filming the movie, I have too much free time on my hands." Rachel sucked in a sharp breath to slow down the flood of words she wanted to speak. "I'll give Santana a gift basket or something to make up for this."

"I get that." Brittany nodded sagely, patting Rachel's hand before ordering coffee for herself. "But in two weeks you'd be wishing you appreciated that alone time more."

Rachel nodded. "I know." She nibbled the inside of her bottom lip. "How's Quinn?"

It was the first time in weeks that Rachel spoke her name out loud, and it was easier than she thought, like an incantation she memorized long ago. The sound of Quinn's name in her own voice still had the same effect—pleasant with the aftertaste of missing her. She watched Brittany's features as she took her time adding cream and sugar to her cup.

"She's fine, why do you ask?"

Rachel shrugged. "I was just curious, that's all."

Brittany squeezed Rachel's hand in hers. "Rae, in another life, I have no doubts that you and Quinn would be good for each other. But in this world, I don't think it's smart to entertain the idea of being in a relationship with Quinn."

"Did she tell you how she feels about me?" Rachel demanded, hands clenched into fists. It was hard to hear, but she had to, if only for the peace of her mind.

"She did," Brittany's voice dropped into a low volume that forced Rachel to lean in closer in order to hear. "But it's not my position to interfere between you two. Just know that Quinn's feelings for you are real." Hearing this, Rachel sat back, wide-eyed and shocked. Brittany smiled. "I've never seen anything affect Quinn the way you do, Rachel."

She sipped her coffee, filled with delight at the taste and the satisfying news she just received. She could see any other course of action but to say. "Brittany, I need to see Quinn. And soon."