FF stix04 - I'll Be

This is the most popular faberry fiction on fanfiction.net



Glee fanfiction

Can Quinn pretend to be in love with Rachel just to get out of Lima? Can Rachel pretend to love Quinn so she's not so lonely in New York? And what happens when both girls realize they're no longer pretending?




I have build this book from its author's site.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6662637/1/I-ll-Be

You can find my entire collection here:
http://kickasstorrents.ee/user/perellopis/uploads/




Chapter One: When Rachel Met Quinn

Quinn Fabray was surprised when the tears didn't come. She was equally surprised at how numb she felt. The blonde calmly gripped the paper in her hand, crinkling it a little, before she tossed it into the trashcan.

Well…that's it, Quinn thought dryly, I'm a Lima loser.

"Hey, baby mama, you coming?" Puck's voice pulled her from her misery as he excitedly jumped up and down towards the school's exit. She smiled falsely and nodded, her voice shaking only slightly.

"I'll be there in a minute." He beamed and winked before taking off through the open doors and out into the parking lot where the other McKinley seniors were celebrating their final day of high school. All but Quinn.

She had applied to several schools, hoping for a full athletic or merit scholarship to each—to any. And although she had received scholarships, none of universities would comp her education. Financial aid was out of the question because her parents still claimed her on their taxes despite the fact that the blonde hadn't lived with them in almost two years. They made too much money for Quinn to qualify for loans or grants—not like she could use her father's name to gain aid—and she didn't have the time nor means to declare herself independent—that required proof of independence, like paying bills.

So she was stuck in Lima. Four years of constant studying, four years of back-breaking physical abuse at the hands of Sue Sylvester, four years of manipulating and terrorizing, and it was all for naught.

"Can you fucking believe that?" Quinn's head swiveled at the sound of Santana's voice as the Latina stalked down the hallway with Brittany in tow. "I swear to God I'll shove my hand down someone's throat and rip out their vocal cords if I hear about her full ride to Julliard again." Santana sneered as she walked passed Quinn, and completely ignored the blonde's presence before continuing on her way.

She was talking about Rachel Berry, the only McKinley senior who would be getting out of Ohio. Sure, there were graduates that got a chance at leaving Lima—the New Directions members being a few of them—but the brunette was the sole student that managed to hightail it out of the state.

Quinn quickly tossed the rest of her notebooks into the trashcan beside her locker before slamming the door out of irritation. She had absolutely no outs and to add insult to injury, all her backup plans had fallen through.

She had hoped, a lifetime ago, dating Finn Hudson would be a solid plan B considering his athleticism would get him out of Lima—it was why she started dating him in the first place. After they broke up sophomore year she did everything in her power to repair that bridge just in case she had needed it. And just like she had done to Noah Puckerman, she led Finn on in hopes that if he was able to get out town, he might take her with him. After the initial excitement wore off of dating the new transfer student/ football player, Sam Evens, Quinn quickly realized that they had nothing in common and it wasn't going anywhere; He wasn't going anywhere. But Quinn desperately needed to get out of Lima—it was the reason she gave Beth away after all, in hopes she'd make something of herself—so she stayed with Sam. He was a really great guy…but something was missing. By the time they finalized the split, Sam—although still nice to the cheerleader—wanted nothing to do with her romantically.

All three of her backup plans failed epically. And to make matters worse, Quinn was deemed "boy bad luck" after the breakups. It wasn't Quinn's fault that Puck spent more time in juvy then class, or that Finn dated Rachel Berry and became some sort of outcast right along with the diva, or that Sam was too busy crying during their championship football game, getting him sacked and blowing their winning season…okay…that last one might have been Quinn's fault because the boy had been crying over her. But even through tears Sam should have seen Artie, wide freaking open, in the end zone!

It was humiliating. She was head Cheerio, gorgeous, baby-weight-free and still no one would date her. She even tried college boys, humiliating herself further by dating a gross philosophy student with chin pubes and wire-rimmed glasses in the hopes that something would come of it. But he wanted to teach at Ohio University and his clothes were so ugly that Quinn couldn't even bring herself to at least get out of Lima by way of the sandals-with-socks-wearing boy.

She was sick with herself for what she did in her goal to leave the black hole of a state, and she had nothing to show for it; no real home, no real friends, no parents, no Beth, no love.

But she knew no other way of reaching her dreams. Manipulating and lying were all she ever knew. Surely, there was some way she could leave Ohio; be it by car, bus, train, plane, or sea, Quinn Fabray had to get out of Ohio, and most definitely out of Lima.

"Her fathers bought her an expensive apartment in the freaking city, can you believe that?"

"I heard that everything is being paid for by that stupid school."

"Apparently she turned down a fucking record contract after some big-shot saw her sing at Nationals."

Quinn inhaled deeply before blowing out a long breath as she walked through the Puckerman house. All night no one could talk about anything else but Rachel freaking Berry. Rachel this, Rachel that, all night long and Quinn was ready to snap.

As she stood on the back porch she took a long pull on her fifth wine cooler as she tried to regain her composure. Rachel wasn't even at the party, but no one spoke of anything else, whether they were in awe, bitching, or just gossiping; the diva's name was on everyone's lips.

Even Finn couldn't help gushing and his relationship with the brunette had been over for a few months. His idea. When Ohio State recruited him for their team, he visited the college and was treated like a god there. Quinn didn't know the specifics, but she was pretty sure her ex boyfriend was involved in more than one sexual liaison that weekend. He told the diva that he thought the distance would be too much for him, but Quinn—and probably Rachel—knew that the new Ohio State junior varsity quarterback was more than ready for the bigger and better.

It gave the blonde a small amount of pleasure knowing that at least the brunette didn't have everything. She was still friendless, loveless, and was about to be very alone in the Big City. Although, Quinn mused as she opened another wine cooler and tried to drown out the sound of the raging party behind her, she felt a little bad for Rachel.

She had been crushed when Finn ended it. It was out of the blue and nothing short of brutal how the boy dropped the bomb on the diva. One minute, they were singing duets in glee, perfectly in love and happy. The next, Rachel was a robot who cared about little else but following her dream with a renewed drive that was almost manic.

She spoke to no one. No one. Not even Mr. Shue. When she wasn't in classes, she was either in the auditorium or the band room practicing. And although that's where you could usually find Rachel before the split, her intense vigor to really make it was scary. She snapped viciously if anyone attempted to talk to her, even nicely, and was often seen crying openly if that wasn't the case.

It was around midnight when the plan began to form for Quinn. She had just overheard Mercedes talking about Rachel's success and the blonde's boiling point spilled over. The achievement should have been Quinn's. The envy should have been directed towards her. Quinn should be packing her bags, destination victory in her sights. But it belonged to Rachel.

Quinn chuckled as she sipped on her wine cooler, thinking up different ways that she could sabotage the brunette. But every time she pictured going through with her plans, Quinn dismissed them. She and Rachel had a lot in common those days, after all. Neither of them had friends—Quinn wasn't counting Puck—and neither had any romantic leads. Both were deemed McKinley's pariahs and now that high school was over, the blonde didn't see a change happening for her.

Quinn had nothing—nothing that could help her, anyway.

"Hey! Where ya going, Q?" Puck shouted at her as she sprinted through the boy's crowded house. Puck was hoping to get a moment alone with her to try yet again to convince Quinn they should give it another shot. But the blonde dismissed his question and hurriedly got into her car with only one place in mind: Rachel Berry's house.

She got there within minutes, the alcohol fueling her led foot as she drove, ignoring stop signs and red lights. She ripped open her door and barely managed to pull her keys out of the ignition before she flew from the car and ran towards the Berrys' house.

Her pointer finger jammed the doorbell and her hand thrust the knocker loudly several dozen times in drunken anticipation. Only when the house lit up and she withdrew her arm did she realize she was sobbing.

Quinn stuttered and stammered her intoxicated explanation to both of Rachel's fathers several times before the one finally went to retrieve their daughter. They couldn't get a coherent sentence out of the blonde to figure out what she was doing there at half past twelve or why she was in such a state.

A sleepy Rachel dragged herself down the steps in bewilderment, not comprehending anything her father had said and unsure of whom he was referring, but stumbled out of bed all the same. Through tears, the blonde watched anxiously as Rachel descended the stairs and her stomach fluttered nervously as it always did when she saw the diva. And just like always, she dismissed it.

When the brunette caught sight of the crying blonde, her eyes widened and she was immediately alert. "Quinn! What happened? What is it? Are you hurt?" Rachel exclaimed as she advanced on the cheerleader in terror.

Contrary to what everyone thought, including the members of New Directions, Rachel Berry still very much cared for the club and the people within it. She just knew no one cared for her. Her dream within grasp, however, Rachel decided she didn't want to care for them any longer. She was tired of hoping. She was tired of trying. Rachel thought it would just be easier if she pretended not to care so everyone else wouldn't have to pretend to care about her either.

She was beyond hurt by Finn's antics—the only one who was ever in her corner—and thought it best to devote her attention towards something that would actually pan out: her future.

But she stilled cared. God help her she still cared. And it hurt every day because of it. No one even attempted to befriend Rachel those last few months of high school. Not one apology, not a smile or a quick check to see if she had extravagant plans including some sharp razors and a loop of depressing Le Miz songs. Some days she'd go without speaking to anyone at all; completely invisible. Those were the good days.

So why the hell was Quinn Fabray at her house, a disheveled sobbing lunatic, at almost one in the morning on the night before their high school graduation?

Rachel got the answer after she led the blonde upstairs to her almost empty bedroom. Upon seeing the packed boxes, the Cheerio broke out in a fresh wave of tears, making it nearly impossible for Rachel to understand her as the diva sat on her bed and watched the pacing, frantic blonde. She caught words like "alone," and "failure." Every once and a while sentences were clear like "miserable for the rest of my life," and "so many regrets."

It was obvious that Quinn Fabray was drunk. So Rachel listened as closely as possible for a lull in the whimpers and wails for some sense to be made.

"I'm so proud of you!" Quinn finally said, dropping to her knees to clutch Rachel's hands in a surprising gesture the brunette hadn't seen coming. She didn't even notice the blonde move towards the bed, but Quinn was on her knees in front of her, proclaiming how amazing Rachel was and how incredible her future would be.

This brought back more tears and again the diva could hardly understand the blonde. "I'm so sorry, Rachel! I'm so unbelievably sorry!" Quinn surged. She couldn't be stopped. Even when Rachel assured Quinn that she forgave her and did not begrudge her anything—lies—the blonde would only cry harder and clasp the diva's hands tighter.

"I'm going to get you a glass of water." Rachel said, close to an hour after Quinn had arrived with no end to her drunken ramblings and apologizes in sight.

"No! Don't leave!" Quinn pleaded.

"Quinn!" Rachel yelped as she dragged the blonde along, who had her arms wrapped around the diva's left leg. "I'll be right back! Please stay and I will return shortly." Rachel annunciated every syllable slowly and loudly, seizing Quinn's shoulders with her hands and looking the blonde directly in the eye. Eventually Quinn nodded and Rachel raced down to her kitchen to get a glass of water to calm the Cheerio.

A part of the blonde's brain was wondering what the hell she was doing at Rachel's house. She didn't even remember what prompted the visit and now that she was there, she was curious as to what her next move should be. She thought about it as she waited for the tiny diva to return, her eyes racing over the carpet without seeing a fiber as she tried to concoct a plan that would help her. Nothing was clicking.

Luckily, Rachel's fathers had returned to bed. Their daughter had assured them that her best friend Quinn was only miserable that Rachel would be leaving town, and wanted one last night to hang out with her bff. Her fathers had bought it, hook, line, and sinker, and Rachel's bright smile sagged as she watched the two men retreat, wondering exactly why they bought the story.

When she returned, Quinn looked up at her from where Rachel had left her on the floor with big, anxious eyes and a relieved grin. The blonde turned on her knees, shuffling along, to follow Rachel's progress through the room and scooted closer to the diva from the floor as Rachel sat on her bed.

With two hands, Quinn held the glass of water to her lips; her eyes trained up on the weary diva over the rim, and drank greedily. When she finally pulled the cup away, exceptionally out of breath and panting from drinking for so long, she gazed at Rachel with a hungry look in her dark, hazel eyes.

"I'm in love with you!"

The declaration with met with piercing quiet that stretched on for over a full minute. Quinn could actually hear the sound of Rachel's eyelids flutter when she eventually blinked after the extended silence.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. It has been a rather long day—and for that matter, a somewhat extensive eighteen years—so I believe that I misheard you. I once read a fairly terrifying article about a young man who devoted his life to the hum of nature only to find at the young age of thirty-four he had lost his hearing. Considering the fact that I spend large quantities of time focusing my efforts on sound, inflections, pitch, tone, and various musical instruments, it could stand to reason that my eardrums have suffered greatly. So I must ask you to repeat yourself, although tiring as it may be, because I am almost certain you just professed your love for me and that could hardly be the case seeing as how outrageously horribly you have treated me in the past, even the present, and taking into consideration that I've been more than confident that you have not displayed anything but heterosexual inclinations throughout the tenu