One Shots (Every Centric)

Quinn's POV : Day One : Who the hell is Kristen Aeries?

1st Scenario

In that moment, as I stood on the practice field with Santana, our lives intertwined with the rhythm of glee club rehearsals, I couldn't help but be curious about what had captured Santana's attention. The sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the lush, green grass.

"What are you looking at?" I inquired, nudging Santana playfully. Her gaze was fixed on something behind us, and her squinted eyes hinted at intrigue.

She tore her gaze away from the mysterious sight and turned to meet my questioning eyes. "She keeps looking over at us," Santana whispered, her voice filled with an air of secrecy. I followed her line of sight, shielding my eyes from the sun's glare. There, in the distance, was a figure that had piqued Santana's curiosity.

"Her?" I questioned, trying to decipher the person she was referring to. Santana's nod confirmed it. It was as though a puzzle piece had fallen into place, but we still couldn't see the full picture. "Maybe she wants to join the team," I suggested with a hint of excitement. It wasn't uncommon for aspiring glee club members to observe our practices from a distance before expressing their desire to join our ranks.

We exchanged a knowing glance, aware of the need for discretion. Coach Sue Sylvester's presence, always heralded by the unmistakable sound of her megaphone, added an element of urgency to our conversation. Her distinctive voice carried over the field as she barked her trademark criticism.

"Sloppy! You make it look like it's hard. You know what's hard? Being waterboarded, that's what's hard!" Sue's scathing words filled the air, her usual tough-love approach to coaching.

I couldn't help but sigh in response to Sue's relentless enthusiasm for verbal assault. Santana caught the look of resignation on my face, and a knowing smile danced across her lips. We shared a moment of silent camaraderie, a reminder that we were in this together, navigating the turbulent waters of glee club under the watchful, if unconventional, guidance of Coach Sylvester.

As Sue's voice faded into the background, we returned to our practice, determined to make the most of the remaining rehearsal time. Santana's initial curiosity about the mysterious observer may have added an intriguing twist to our day, but our commitment to perfecting our performances and, in some small way, defying Sue's relentless critiques remained at the forefront of our minds.

2nd Scenario

I found myself seated on the bench in the gym, surrounded by the usual clique of girls. Laughter echoed in the air, a testament to the camaraderie we shared. My laptop sat perched on my lap, the screen illuminating my face as I delved into the world of MySpace, the digital stage for countless aspiring talents, or so it seemed. Rachel Berry, the girl whose name was whispered with both admiration and exasperation, had uploaded another one of her performances.

"Ugh, Rachel is such a try-hard," Bree's voice cut through the mirth, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes twinkling with mischief. I couldn't help but chuckle in agreement. Rachel Berry was the embodiment of relentless ambition, a "pick me" in every sense, always yearning for the spotlight.

"Oh my god, this is tragic," Santana remarked with a sly grin, glancing over at the laptop. Her disapproval of Rachel's performance was evident.

As I watched Rachel's MySpace video as she sung her heart out, my fingers subconsciously began to type out some biting comments. Santana, always quick-witted and sly, whispered a few more disparaging remarks into my ear. She was the verbal counterpart to my digital snark, and together, we made a potent duo.

Amidst our banter, something on the periphery of my vision caught my attention. I turned my head, glancing outside the gymnasium through a nearby window. There she was, a girl I had never seen before. Her silhouette framed by the pale glow of the bulletin board. She was in the process of writing something, her movements deliberate and focused.

I couldn't hear the words she was inscribing on the board, but her posture exuded determination. She stood there, a lone figure, quietly carving her place into the high school tapestry. I watched in silence, my curiosity piqued by her presence, even as the bell rang, jolting us back into reality.

We gathered our belongings, preparing to make our way to class. It was in that moment, as I approached the bulletin board, that I saw what she had signed up for. The words "New Directions" stood out in bold, black ink. My eyebrow arched inquisitively.

New Directions? It was a term I wasn't familiar with, as a member of McKinley High's esteemed Cheerios. But seeing someone new express interest in joining piqued my curiosity further. Who was this mysterious girl, and what did she bring to the table? With a lingering thought, I continued on my way to class, the image of her handwriting etched in my mind, a subtle hint that change was on the horizon.

3rd Scenario

The next time I passed by that well-worn bulletin board, it was filled with a curious assortment of names. Some were expectedly mischievous and juvenile, like "penis" and "butt lunch," "neeks" typical of high school humor. Others belonged to familiar faces, students I had known since my time at McKinley High. There was Tina, the girl with her gothic style and unique personality. Rachel Berry, I scoffed, the perfectionist. Even Artie, the paraplegic who always had a smile on his face despite life's challenges, was also among the names.

Yet, there was one name that stood out from the rest, one that captured my attention with an almost magnetic force. "Who the hell is Kristen Aeries?" I found myself murmuring in a hushed tone. The name was like an enigma, a puzzle piece that didn't seem to fit within the confines of my knowledge.