Chapter Text
UNWRITTEN
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Quinn Fabray
Quinn pulls her earphones out of her ears, pausing the music on her iPod as she sets her Coach tote down on her bed. It was a long day though and she only had one class, honestly, she didn't know what she was thinking, signing up for an 8 am. God, especially with Mr. Bardeaux her– Micro and Macroeconomics teacher, in Santana’s words, he was “a misogynistic prick with a God complex”. And this was the rare occasion that the Latina was absolutely correct. The house had a constant hum of different sisters getting ready for early parties, work, classes, or just going out. It was oddly comforting to Quinn, that she was in charge of– no she owned– these girls, but her comfort was very short-lived when the door to her presidential suite was nearly knocked off the hinges by Santana. Quinn glares over in Santana’s general direction just as Santana flops on her bed, “How was class?” Santana asks, with a mouth full of chips. Quinn doesn't answer right away, her eyes just snap to the crumbs on her duvet before back to Santana,
“It was bad, like it is everyday you ask.” Quinn deadpans swiping at the crumbs. Santana smells distinctly like weed and some citrusy perfume that completely underwhelms Santana’s personality. “Were you smoking in my house, again?” Quinn asks, wrinkling her nose, just as the snacks and the carefree attitude clicks in her mind. Santana can't go one day without going full hippie, and hotboxing her room, it's one of Santana’s most… interesting traits. Especially because she still does flips like she's a human top, it’s irritating.
Santana rolls her eyes, “Well I can't smoke on the street, can I? Besides, Britt's not home and messing with the pledges is boring without her.” Santana deadpans rolling on her back and kicking her legs up, Quinn’s eyes instinctively follow the expanse of the Latina’s legs before dropping to her face. Though Santana’s already looking at her with a glint in her eyes
“It’s not messing, it's practically hazing.” Quinn scoffs “And I'm still getting shit from headquarters for your last stunt–”
“Anyway,” Santana cuts in completely disregarding her friends worrying “Sue moved practice to this afternoon so I guess I’ll let you chill till then.” She pushes off the bed, leaving her chips. Quinn watches her go with a mix of irritation and amusement, taking the chip bag between two fingers and tossing it in the trash beside her bed.
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Rachel Berry
Rachel walks across the quad with a bounce in her step, the smell of the crisp September air fills her nose as she takes a deep breath in. The Zeta pin on her sweater glints with pride in the afternoon light just like her. She takes a look around at the scenery. There’s students underneath big trees and football players throwing the football, her eyes pause on Finn Hudson. The university's star quarterback, he threw the winning touchdown at last year's game that won the championship. Rachel may have a teensy tiny crush on him… okay… huge crush. But her eyes drift toward cheerleaders on the grass space near them, Quinn Fabray, flanked by Santana and Brittany holding court over the cheerleaders with a mega phone and her constant wave of intimidation. She had no chance with Finn because he was dating Quinn, she lowers her head and walks past briskly before Santana spots her and immediately starts picking on her. Rachel stares at her Mary Janes as she walks, the heels making soft clicks against the pavement… until she collides into someone's chest, she looks up with wide eyes before they fall into a glare when she sees who it is. Jesse St. James, her ex, the pretentious prick who used her to get into her dream school NYADA. She won't go into any further detail to save her hair from getting ripped from its scalp–again. “What are you doing here?” Rachel scoffs, and Jesse just hums with that infuriatingly smug smirk he always wears. He adjusts his blazer with a flick of his wrists like she inconvenienced him.
“Calm down Berry, I'm here for my friend… Blaine.” He chuckles, “Though you are a pleasant surprise, never thought you’d end up somewhere this…non-musical.” Rachel bristles clutching her books tighter to her chest. “Anyway I was just inviting him to my A Capella group performance” he waves “You know at NYADA on Thursday, we’re practically just showing off before sectional but…” He shrugs after continuing completely unprompted, Rachel tries to side step him but Jesse just steps right back into her way “Woah, woah, guess you don't know.”
“What do you want Jesse” Rachel huffs and he throws his arms up,
“Dont get all twisted up Rachel, Im sure Limas A Capella group is just as good” He snorts, but Rachel can tell he’s just trying to rile her up… and God if it isn't working.
“It is!” She snaps, but it isn't, the school’s A Capella group hasn't had members since the 1980s but her mouth won't stop moving no matter how hard she wants it to. “It’s so good that we’ll be competing too!” Jesse’s eyebrows raise,
“Really? University of Lima?” He grins leaning in and Rachel stiffens eyebrows furrowing on instinct.
“Absolutely, I wanted to keep it a secret but… we will. And we will beat you.” She vows and Jesse leans back crossing his arms making Rachel exhale sharply.
“Well, if you think your,” he gestures vaguely to the big campus “Yuppie Ohian school could even begin to compete with Nyada” he pauses just to make Rachel’s hairs stand up on her arms "I'll believe it when I see it” And with that he brushes past her and walks off leaving Rachel fuming.
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Rachel paces in her room, past pictures of her fathers, past pictures of the young berry singing the lead role in a play she was in when she was younger. She brushes her chin, what can she do? What to do? Until her Ah-Hah moment hits like a brick, her Art/Music Appreciation teacher Mr. Schue, he was in the school’s Acapella group way back when. She nearly trips digging through her drawers until she finds a dusty yearbook she stole from the library, the 80-81 school year. She dusts it off and flips through different clubs until she lands on THE NEW DIRECTIONS A CAPELLA CLUB, she drags a finger down until she reaches Will Schuester, in his young glory. Rachel grins to herself “Perfect”
That very next morning she peaks into his class, where he’s at his desk grading papers. “Mr Schue?” Rachel chirps stepping into the classroom with her usual preppy grin. Schuester looks up and smiles,
“Ah, Rachel, what brings you here?” He asks, setting down his pen, expecting to hear yet another Rachel monologue needing a review. Rachel takes a deep breath in leaning against a desk adjacent to him,
“Soo, say I wanted to revive The New Directions.” She starts causing Will to raise his eyebrows, that's a name he hasn't heard in a long long time. “Would you sponsor it?” Rachel leans in hopefully and Schue claps with a chuckle
“Absolutely” He grins “When? We’d need auditions right away!”