Author's Note 1: This fic is very different than my last one, as you will see. For those of you wanting a companion piece to One More Statistic I am working on it, but am at a bit of a roadblock. This fic won't leave my head so I'm writing it up while waiting for the OMS block to leave.

Author's Note 2: This is rated M for language and eventual sexy times, and violence.

Author's Note 3: This is set about four years after they graduate (Quinn and Rachel are about 22). However, I do not own Glee, any of its characters or its storyline. I also do not own The Script. The only thing I do own is the idea behind this fic and Changed Direction.

"Quinn, you promised to check out the new club with San and me!"

Quinn rolled over, staring at her fellow blonde standing in the door way of her bedroom. Her eyes widened as Brittany proceeded to take a running jump, landing square on top of her. Fingers danced across her ribs, drawing loud giggles from Quinn's mouth.

"Up up up! You promised!"

"Okay! Okay!" Brittany leapt off the bed with a grin. Groaning, Quinn rolled off the bed and crossed to her wardrobe. Black skinny jeans, red halter top, and red converse slipped on, hair let down and lightly curled, and light make-up is applied before the former Cheerio steps into the living room.

"Take long enough, Q?" Santana asks with a raised eyebrow. The Latina was in artfully ripped skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt. Purple converse graffitied with The Script lyrics adorned her feet. Brittany leaned into Santana's side, an arm wrapped around her waist. White skinny jeans, a baby blue halter top, and deep blue converse put her in stark contrast with her dark counterpart.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn picked up her keys. They were promptly snatched away by Santana.

"Nuh-uh. We're taking a cab because you are gonna let loose tonight. A few drinks will definitely do you some good."

"Try and tell me that tomorrow when I have a hangover."

"It'll be worth it. Besides, who drives in the NYC when they don't have to? Now come on, we already called for one." Quinn was unceremoniously shoved out of their apartment.

Stepping out of the cab, the trio stared at the line leading into the club; it stretched around the block.

Quinn frowned. "How the fuck are we supposed to get in? Every gay and lesbian on this side of New York City must be here."

"Kurt knows the owner and got us on the list." Brittany answered.

At the head of the line they were blocked by a muscled guy with jet black hair. "Names?"

"We're the Unholy Trinity." The taller blonde replied with a wink.

The bouncer's scowl quickly morphed into a smirk. "The boss was wondering if you three would actually show." Gesturing towards the door with his head he announced, "Welcome to Changed Directions, ladies."

Reviews, criticisms and suggestions are always welcome. So… What do you think? Worth continuing?