A/N: I will go down with this ship.

The Purple Piano Project

Quinn tried to act cool as she walked through the familiar halls of McKinley. As she passed by the girls' bathroom, however, she made a detour, a sudden desperate need to escape the stares and the whispers from her fellow students overtaking her. What the hell was she doing? She checked the stalls to make sure they were empty before bracing her hands on either side of the porcelain sink. Seriously, what the hell was she doing? She continued to stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, but what was she even searching for? The old Quinn Fabray? She scoffed because as far as she was concerned, the old Quinn Fabray, the one who was hopelessly in love with Finn Hudson, was dead.

She played with the ends of her short, pink hair as she practiced her 'look at all the fucks I give' face. It had been harder to master than she had thought, but after spending the last two weeks practicing, she had the look down pat. There, she mused to herself after a moment's consideration. Perfect. She was good to go. Under this illusion of confidence, she was ready to face anyone and everyone. Still, when she whirled around, she let out a small shriek, her cool façade broken.

"Santana! You almost gave me a heart attack!" she hissed, her heart racing under the palm of her hand. "I thought you had class."

"Bathroom break," the Latina answered, eyeing her carefully. "Nice look, Quinn."

Quinn ignored the lack of sincerity in her voice, said a quick 'thank you', and made a move to walk past her only to run into her outstretched arm.

"Q, you need to stop this reckless behavior," Santana told her, pushing her back a step. "The team's worried about you."

The mention of the team had caught Quinn off guard and she crossed her arms over her chest, bracing herself as the bad memories began to floor her mind.

"You manipulative bitch!" Finn shouted, pointing a finger menacingly at her.

He took a step toward her and Puck came in between them, ready to defend her.

"Hey!" Puck yelled back, his voice shaking the house. "We were all in this together, Hudson, so either you redirect your anger at all of us or your face can say 'hello' to my fist."

Quinn was at a complete loss of words as those harsh words continued to ring in her ears. You manipulative bitch! You manipulative bitch! You manipulative bitch! She looked down at her feet, glancing at the others from the corner of her eye. Santana was comforting Brittany, who was now regretting having told Finn and Rachel the truth about everything the team had done this summer to sabotage them. While Quinn knew she should probably be very angry with the blonde for selling them out, she knew poor, simple Brittany had had a tough time keeping their schemes a secret for the last two months. She should never have schemed to get Finn back anyway. She should have anticipated an ugly ending like this because in all honesty, when had things really worked out for her this year?

"Shut up, Puck," Finn hissed in return, still unable to believe that the four of them had been pitting him and Rachel against each other all summer vacation.

"Do not test me," Puck warned him, his hands clenched into tight fists on either side of his body. "You're just upset that our plans to break you two up almost succeeded."

Finn crinkled his nose in confusion, considerably less angry than before, but still fuming.

"What the hell are you talking about? Rachel and I are nowhere near breaking up. We love each other, a lot," he enlightened his "best friend" and his words instantly commanded the attention of the room.

As the words fell from his lips, Quinn felt the last ray of hope she had had for them vanish because the tone of his voice had been unmistakable. He had meant every freaking word of what he had said. She looked past Puck, straight at him and the look of absolute indifference he gave her shook her to her very core. She had been such an idiot, thinking that she could get Finn back. She had been such an idiot for even wanting him back after he had dumped her at that funeral.

Her eyes moved away from him and onto Rachel, who had been sitting silently on the couch, the expression on her face betraying no emotions. It was then that she realized that Rachel was the girl he loved. She was merely someone he constantly came running back to only because she was his first love. Finn was in love with the idea of first loves. He no longer loved her. Maybe he hadn't in a long time.

She was unable to hold back the sarcastic laugh that left her lips as she thought about how stupid she had been. All summer she thought she had been playing Finn and Rachel when all along, the only person she had been fooling was herself. Noticing the tear that had fallen down her cheek, Santana rushed to her side immediately, pulling Brittany along with her. Quinn had never been more grateful to be a part of the unholy trinity.

"Is that what she told you, Hudson?" Puck challenged him, looking to Rachel for emphasis. "Or are you assuming her love for you runs just as deep as your supposed love for her?

Rachel looked away from him when his eyes met hers, chewing nervously on her bottom lip, and Puck already had his answer. He had spent a lot of time this summer hanging out with Rachel (only doing things he would have done with any other good friend of his). He thought they had really connected and the brunette had even told him on several occasions that he seemed to understand her better than anyone else.

Last night, he was sure that Rachel had been leaning in for a kiss. Had he simply built everything up inside his head to unrealistic proportions? How did he manage to come out looking like the idiot every single time when the only idiot he could see standing in the room at the moment was Finn fucking Hudson? He noticed Finn and Rachel open their mouths, both preparing to answer his questions, but Puck put up a hand to stop them.

"Spare me," he said, echoing the sarcastic laugh Quinn had made earlier as he came to a similar realization.

Finn was the boy she loved. He would always be second best unless Finn suddenly disappeared off the face of the planet and even then, Puck was sure he would have to continue living in his goddamn shadow. He was so fucking done with this shit.

"We're leaving," Santana announced, making the decision for all of them.

No one protested. Brittany left first, pulling Quinn along. Puck followed closely behind them, resisting the urge to slam the front door. As Santana prepared to leave, she turned back to address them one last time.

"Puck and Quinn might have taken things a little too far this summer, but at least they went after what they wanted," she told them, pursing her lips together, her displeasure obvious. "Are you two even sure of what you want? Quinn or Rachel? Finn, Puck, or Jesse? Everyone knows the two of you will probably never make up your goddamn minds, but those idiots actually love you enough to continue hoping that you will. Get the fuck over yourselves because I am going to make sure they spend the next two weeks getting over you."

She slammed the door behind her. The force seemed to shake all of Lima.

"The summer's over, Santana," she reminded her, making a move to go past her again. "I'm starting fresh."

Santana pushed her back again and scoffed, "Yeah, but like this? Puck's starting fresh too, but you don't see him strolling around school with pink hair and a bad tattoo. Is that real by the way? Because that would be seriously unfortunate."

"None of your business," Quinn spat, shoving past her. "Just piss off, okay?"

"You'll get tired of running away from what happened this summer, Q," Santana finished from behind her, making no move to stop her from leaving this time. "We'll be here for you when you do."

Quinn paused in her steps for a split second at her words before barraging through the bathroom door again. Forget her, forget them. She was going to rock at being the new Quinn Fabray.

Quinn took a drag of her cigarette, staring off into the distance as she waited for her new friends to arrive. She was supposed to be in English right now, but she was hardly in the mood to hear her prehistoric teacher drone on and on about how amazing 'The Great Gatsby' was.

"Quinn," she heard a familiar voice utter her name then and she froze, watching the puff of smoke billowing from her open mouth.

"What do you want?" she asked him as she continued to stare straight ahead, her voice cool and indifferent.

She heard him take a couple of steps toward her and she sidestepped, widening the distance between them once more.

"What do you want?" she repeated, turning her head to the side to look at him this time.

It had been two weeks since the big blowout. Neither or them had tried to contact the other since. In fact, Quinn had actually put in an effort to avoid him.

"Come back to glee club, Quinn," he urged her, taking a step back, not wanting to upset her.

She let out a laugh at his command, bringing the cigarette to her lips again.

"Well, since you asked, Finn," she drawled sarcastically, unable to hold back an eye roll.

He was so transparent. It was obvious that Rachel had asked him to come and talk to her after her attempt to get her to return had failed, which Quinn thought was pretty freaking insensitive of her, considering the petite brunette knew she still had feelings for Finn.

Reading her mind, he corrected her, "Actually, I came here on my own. You don't have to come back to glee club, Quinn, but this? This isn't you."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, not a hint of sincerity in her voice. "Does this look not scream 'manipulative bitch' enough for you?"

It was a low blow, but Finn had hurt her bad. A wave of satisfaction washed over her as she witnessed him flinch at her reminder.

"I'm sorry I called you that, but meddling with my relationship with Rachel was crossing the line, Quinn," he pointed out to her, hoping she would understand his point of view.

"Rachel's meddled with your relationship with me in the past," she retorted, still suppressing her numerous emotions. "I've never heard you call her a manipulative bitch before. Double standards much?"

Finn ignored her and continued, "Quinn, I understand why you're doing this. I hurt you really bad and you th-"

"Don't flatter yourself," she hissed, stomping over to him and waving her cigarette around wildly in the air. "People reinvent themselves all the time, Finn, and I can assure you that my new look has nothing to do with you. Are you done boring me now?"

His face hardened at her sharp tone and he backed away from her again, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah," he echoed, shaking his head in disappointment at her, at himself. "Give me a call when Quinn Fabray re-inhabits your body."

As he turned the corner, her new friends approached her from behind.

"He giving you some sort of trouble, Quinn?" one of them asked, the others echoing her question with a curt nod. "We can deal with him for you."

She shook her head, drowning out their words as they started to chat amongst themselves. She was not about to let Finn get to her. There was nothing wrong with reinventing herself. She was still Quinn Fabray. She had simply allowed her rebellious side to shine through. Right, she was not going to let him get to her.

When she passed by the auditorium later though and heard the glee club performing 'You Can't Stop The Beat', she found herself staying to watch the performance. She was hidden in the shadows of course, but for some reason, Finn sensed she was there and turned his head, looking right at her. She panicked a little, having been caught reminiscing over her old life. Surprisingly, he merely gave her a boyish smile and a small wave and she found herself smiling back.

After school, he stopped by her locker and asked her, "So, you thinking about joining glee club again? Going back to being you?"

"I am me," she insisted as she had earlier, closing her locker door. "As for rejoining the glee club, we'll see."

She bumped his shoulder lightly as she brushed past him, turning around to throw a wink in his direction. He grinned back at her, glad that the girl he was in love with was still in there somewhere. Wait, 'in love with'? No, he corrected himself, shaking his head as he headed in the opposite direction. Loved. Past tense. The girl he loved.

Oh crap. Here we go again.