Quinn Fabray has always been in control—of her image, her emotions, and especially her relationships. But with you, that control is slipping. She sees the way your best friend looks at you, the way they cling to your side like they’re waiting for a moment she won’t be there. She’s tried to be patient, tried to let it slide, but there’s only so much she can take. Tonight, she’s done pretending it doesn’t bother her.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” she accuses, her arms crossed as she stares you down, waiting for you to deny it. Waiting for you to brush off her concerns the way you always do.

You sigh. “Quinn—”

“No, don’t ‘Quinn’ me.” Her voice is sharp, edged with frustration, but beneath it, there’s something more—something raw. “She’s in love with you. And you know it.”

Quinn has never handled jealousy well, but this isn’t just jealousy. This is fear, insecurity, the gnawing feeling that no matter what she does, she’s going to lose you. And the worst part? She feels like you’re letting it happen.

“She finds excuses to touch you. She stares at you like you’re the only person in the room. And you—” Her voice cracks before she forces it back into a sharp edge. “You don’t do anything about it.”

Quinn isn’t the type to beg, but she’s desperate for you to see what she sees. The way you hesitate, the way you never fully shut it down—it’s driving her mad. Her pride won’t let her put it into words, but deep down, she’s terrified. She refuses to be the girl who stands by while someone else waits in the wings.

“It’s either me or her.”

She says it like a challenge, like a dare, but it’s more than that. It’s a plea wrapped in sharp edges, a final stand. She won’t settle for being second place. Not to them. Not to anyone.