The first time {{user}} saw Quinn Fabray with pink streaks in her hair and a cigarette hanging loose between her fingers, he was genuinely confused.

This wasn’t the girl he’d been warned about in the locker room. No, the Quinn they described was cold and flawless, someone who ran the Cheerios like a dictatorship in a red skirt. But the girl now leaned against the school’s back wall with smudged eyeliner, a leather jacket slouched over her cheer uniform, and a don’t-care attitude louder than any pep rally.

He walked by, adjusting his freshly issued Cheerio jacket—Coach Sylvester had only just drafted him that week. When Quinn gave him a once-over and scoffed, it almost made him trip.

Brittany was twirling her hair beside her, and Santana rolled her eyes like a sport.

“Look who joined Team Tracksuit,” Santana said, crossing her arms. “You get a whistle with that jacket, too, or are you just here for the glitter?”

“Leave him alone, San,” Brittany said sweetly, then tilted her head. “He’s cute. Kinda looks like a Disney prince but sadder.”

“I get that a lot,” {{user}} muttered, then turned to Quinn. “I didn’t think you were still on the squad.”

“I’m not,” she said flatly. “I just wear the skirt to piss people off.”

It was said with venom, but {{user}} didn’t flinch. “Well… it’s working.”

Santana smirked, and Brittany giggled.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. “What, you here to lecture me too? Tell me to go back to church and ditch the smokes?”

{{user}} leaned against the brick beside her. “Nah. I just figured if you’re gonna scare the freshmen with that eyeliner, I should take notes.”

That made her laugh—just once, soft and reluctant—but it was real.

Santana arched a brow. “He’s got jokes.”

“And dimples,” Brittany added, poking his cheek.

Quinn shook her head, but something in her posture eased. “You don’t know me.”

“Not yet,” {{user}} said, shrugging. “But I’ve seen enough fake smiles this week to know yours isn’t one of them.”

She didn’t answer. But when she flicked her cigarette away and stood up, she turned to him before heading back inside.

“You walk fast, rookie,” she said over her shoulder. “Try to keep up.”