"Quinn Fabray?"

But why would he just leave? With no explanation or hinting or even a note. It was rude, if anything.

"Quinn Fabray?"

At least they still had the house. He wasn't so heartless that he'd cut them off and leave them on the streets. Quinn jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Quinn? Dr. Ansley will see you now." She looked up and came face to face with the short, pudgy, ginger receptionist. She smiled and rubbed her shoulder. Quinn shrugged her off and stood, smoothing out her white dress and plucking her purse off the seat next to her before walking into the doctor's office.

Dr. Ansley was supposed to be the best psychiatrist in the area and her office reflected it. The room reeked of lavender and mahogany; there was a leather chesterfield directly across from a large desk where the woman sat, smiling, her eyes boring into Quinn from behind brown rimmed glasses. Behind her were shelves filled with degrees and honors. Of course.

"Quinn! Take a seat, won't you?" the woman said, clasping her hands together on the desk. She silently walked over and sat down, keeping her purse on her arm and putting her hands in her lap.

This felt wrong. Her father left them two days ago and her mother already had her in therapy.

"So! Why don't we start with you telling me why you think you're here?"

"Isn't that your job?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…not exactly. But I want to know why you think you're here. It might help you discuss…"

"I'm here because my father left and my mother thinks it should have had some large impact on my well-being, but I'm fine."

The older woman simply smiled at her and Quinn was instantly annoyed. She watched her take a pad and pen from out of her desk drawer and begin scribbling on it. This annoyed Quinn more. She barely said anything and she was already being analyzed.

"So you don't feel any negative things right now? Resentment? Despondency?" she asked.

"Well obviously I'm not happy about it, but things like this happen all the time. We'll get by."

"He was your father…"

"I'm aware of that, thank you. But he's not the first to walk out on a family and there are people going through much worse. Though if my mother wants to waste good money on a shrink, it's her problem. But don't expect me to act depressed or angry so you can feel useful."

"Quinn," Dr. Ansley said in a calm tone. "I spoke to your mother. She just thinks you need someone to talk to, so that's what we're going to do. Talk. Tell me about school."

Quinn released a breath and looked out the large window adjacent to where she was seated.

"Why school?" she asked. The woman shrugged.

"Why not."

"School is fine."

"Why do you say that? What makes it fine?"

"I have a 4.0 GPA, a great boyfriend, great friends, and great hair. I'm pretty, therefore things go my way. That sounds bad, but honestly it's true. I have no reason to be unhappy," she told her. The woman wrote down more notes in her pad.

"Well, being pretty does help a lot of things…tell me about your boyfriend."

"His name is Sam and he's sweet, caring and sinfully attractive."

"What do you like most about him?"

"He's…innocent. And he makes me feel good," Quinn said.

More scribbling. She wanted to rip the pad away and toss it out the window.

"I see. Tell me about your friends." She smiled and adjusted her glasses.

"All of them?"

"The ones that matter."

"Well, there's Mercedes, Santana, and Rachel. They're my closest friends. There are others, like Puck, Kurt and Tina, but…"

"Why are those girls the closest?"

"Mercedes is probably the best friend a girl could have, really. She always knows what to say in any given situation and she has her head on straight. She's there when I need her and she forces people to be honest with themselves. Then there's Santana. We fight all the time, but when it comes down to it, I know we'd kill for each other. We've been on the same dance team since we were toddlers, and I can always tell her my secrets without being judged."

"Do you have a lot of secrets?" she asked.

"No," Quinn snapped, her voice lowering. "I was speaking hypothetically."

"Okay…well what about Rachel?"

"Right," she said, her expressions softening. "She's…shrill. And pushy and arrogant and she rarely takes other peoples' feelings into account…"

"I'm sorry, this is your close friend?" the doctor cut in.

"Well…yeah. I just don't know what it is, but I like being around her." Quinn furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at her hands. All of her friends were baffled by her fixation on Rachel and honestly, so was she. But she didn't question it.

"Do you think you might be attracted to her?" the woman asked with a straight expression.

"What? God, no. No. I'm not…just no."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of if you have sexual feelings towards a gi—"

"Shut up! I don't. Can we just change the subject?" Quinn asked, avoiding eye contact.

"Alright…how do you feel about your sister leaving?"

She tensed up and continued looking out the window. She didn't like where this session was headed. The woman was attempting to paint her to be some sort of sad, confused head-case and she wasn't having it.

"It's what she wanted, so who cares," she said simply.

"Do you think your father and sister abandoning you are having effects on your self-esteem?"

"They left for two completely different reasons, alright? My father was fucking some random whore and my sister couldn't stand be cooped up in suburban hell with a neurotic mother, so she left. It's what they both wanted and it doesn't have shit to do with me." She looked at the clock on the desk and stood abruptly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to leave early."

With that, Quinn opened the door and left, quickly walking by the other people waiting outside and to the elevator. She needed a latte.

When she arrived home, her breath hitched and she pulled into the driveway. There was a small, old van in the front, its bumper smothered in stickers that represented punk rock bands and old cartoons.

Frannie.

She took a deep breath and got out of her car, smoothing out her dress and walking up to the front door. She walked in and closed the door behind her, looking around to see if her sister would readily show herself. No such luck.

"Hello?" she called, hanging her purse on the rack by the door.

"In here!"

Quinn followed the voice into their large kitchen, where a thin girl with a jet black pixie cut in ripped jeans and a faded, cut up Radiohead tee was leaning on the counter eating an apple.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, hesitantly stepping forward.

"I can't visit?" the girl asked, smirking and biting into the apple.

"Well sure you can, you just haven't bothered in three years," Quinn retorted, folding her arms.

"Quinnie…you know why I left."

"Actually Frannie, I don't."

"Yikes. No one's called me that in years."

"What do they call you? Surely not Francesca," the blonde challenged, raising her eyebrow.

"It's Frankie now," the short haired girl replied, smirking. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Cute. So why are you here? Run out of money or something?"

"I see you're still properly brainwashed," she pointed out. Quinn huffed and slapped a hand on the tiled counter.

"Just because I have goals and shower regularly does not mean I'm brainwashed." Frankie sighed and pursed her lips before tossing the apple core into the trash nearby.

"Look, Quinn. I'm here because I realize that even though I meant to leave Mom and Dad, I didn't mean to leave you. I want to be a part of your life. And I want to show you what it's like to step out of your comfort zone. Come out with me tonight."

"So, out of the blue you have an interest in me? Just all of a sudden you want to 'hang out'?" she asked, making finger quotes.

"Well no. I've been thinking about you for a while now, and I called. That's how I found out about Dad. So then I thought, what better time than right now? You need to get out, Quinn. If you hate it, then fine. But you deserve to experience a different kind of therapy than the kind Mom's forcing you into."

Quinn stared at her sister for several moments, biting her lip and thinking.

"Okay, fine," she said finally. Frankie clapped her hands together and grinned.

"Great. Sisterly bonding time! But uh, first you need a change of clothes."

Quinn knew she would find bruises in the morning. The smell of sweat and cigarettes permeated the air and her sister kept disappearing in the sea of bodies. She didn't know the song that band was playing, but by the third chorus, she was singing along just like everyone else and slamming from person to person, grinning and letting it go when she felt someone's drink spill onto her sister's Misfits tank.

To say she was out of her element would have been an obnoxious understatement. But she liked it. She would have never volunteered to be around these types of people, but when she finally loosened up and tried to have fun, she discovered she was actually having it. These people were alive and full of music and…freedom.

"Slow down there, cowgirl!" Quinn slammed the shot glass on the bar and wiped her mouth, grinning at Frankie. She'd found her way out of the crowd minutes ago to get more drinks, hoping the poison would make the night last longer. The longer it lasted, the longer it would be before she had to slip back into the role of sweet Christian Quinn Fabray.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do!" she yelled over the music in response. Frankie laughed and ordered herself a shot, downing it in seconds.

"So I take it you're enjoying yourself then?" the raven haired girl asked with a knowing smirk.

"Don't rub it in!" She grinned and pulled her back into the pit as a new song began to play.

When 3am hit, she was ignoring the vibrations of her phone in her bra reminding her of the voicemails she hadn't checked earlier on and gripping the sides of a metal sink while a guy whose name she couldn't remember (James? Jake? Jack…?) grunted and pounded into her.

When she felt the swell of an orgasm in her lower stomach, she moaned and wrapped her legs around him tighter, attacking his mouth in a sloppy drunken kiss. Her toes went numb and he sped up until he came, breathing against her neck, thrusting a few more times before pulling out. He hastily pulled his pants up and lit a cigarette. She smirked and took it from him, placing it in her mouth and winking. He shook his head and got another, lighting it and winking back at her.

"Bye Jim," she said, yanking up her panties and trotting out of the dirty one-person restroom.

"It's Jason!" he called after her. She blew out smoke and went to find her sister; that is, if she could recognize her. She may have been too far gone.

She couldn't find Frannie and she was beginning to feel dizzy, completely unable to remember if she took something. She could barely see straight, but she found the exit and stumbled outside, ignoring jeers and vulgarities from guys hanging outside the club.

She walked for about an hour, still out of it. She didn't know she had a destination in mind until she was outside of Rachel Berry's house. She tossed a pinecone at her bedroom window and that's all it took before it flung open. The brunette was in button down pink pajamas and her hair was held back by a matching headband.

"Quinn! What are you doing here? And why on Earth are you dressed like that?"

"Can I come up?" she asked, ignoring the questions.

"I…my dads…"

"Rachel…please?"

She sighed and closed her window, reappearing at her front door and waving for her to come in. Quinn walked up and went in the house, staying quiet as Rachel snuck her upstairs to her room.

"What are you doing here?" she asked once they were alone with the door closed. Quinn wasn't sure how to answer, so she went with instinct. Stepping forward, she put her hands on both sides of Rachel's face and pressed her lips to hers. The girl's eyes widened and she tried to pull away, but Quinn desperately followed her movements to stay attached. When she began to kiss back, letting the blonde's tongue enter her mouth, she came to her senses as soon as she'd lost them.

"Stop! What are you doing!" she asked, pushing Quinn away gently.

"No talking," she replied, backing her against the bed and leaning in for another kiss.

"Quinn! Stop, seriously! Are you on drugs?"

"A few, I guess."

Rachel put her hands on her shoulders and pushed her away again, licking her lips and searching her diluted eyes.

"Let me take you home."

Quinn sat on the edge of her bed, staring into the mirror on her vanity. Her mind was still reeling and she needed something to do. Sleep wasn't an option and her hands were shaking. Finally, she stood, walking over to the vanity and grabbing the pair of scissors on it and sitting down.

"Much too much to deal with," she mumbled, taking a chunk of her blonde hair and cutting through it. She continued this until in her haze, she was satisfied.

When the sun shone through her curtains in the morning, she winced and rolled over, pressing her face into her pillow. Her phone vibrated and it startled her, as it still appeared to be nestled in her bra from the night before.

She groaned and pulled it out, looking at the screen. It was the usual text from Sam. They'd become increasingly robotic since he broke his arm, but this one took the cake.

Morning. Love u.

She went through the other messages she'd missed last night and there was one from him and one from her mother. She looked at the alarm clock and realized she'd probably left for the country club and if she didn't get up now, she'd be late for class.

Her back hurt as she rolled off of the bed and she limped over to her bathroom, a bit sore as well. When she looked in her mirror, she almost cried. Her make-up was smeared all over her face and her eyes were red, but the shocker was her hair. She touched the tips of it and sighed. There was no time for freaking out and tears, so she took a deep breath before going to retrieve her scissors and flatiron to try and even the edges and make herself look somewhat presentable.

When she arrived at school, she got looks right away. People began whispering about her hair, but she held her head high. She saw Rachel by her locker with Finn and waved, her smile fading when she didn't return it and looked down. Finn on the other hand waved back.

Quinn tried not to let it get to her.

She got to her first hour and spotted Sam and Mercedes towards the back. He was doing one of his stupid impressions and she was laughing. He just smiled and stared at her as she did so, biting his lip and looking star-struck.

Once again, she tried not to let it get to her.