The Bodyguard

Chapter 1

As she waited nervously behind the curtain all Quinn Fabray could hear was the roar coming from the excited crowd behind the red velvet curtains. The sold out auditorium of 15 thousand people was packed to full seating capacity, waiting for her. She looked into a mirror that was positioned by the humongous stage; she stood there alone examining her reflection.

She thought, “It’s the same face, im the same person.” The long lashed emerald colored eyes looked back at her, the shoulder length dirty blonde hair , the full lips that she had been made fun of constantly since before she could even remember. She could hear it now. Remember hearing the kids in her third grade class chanting…

“Fish lips, Fish lips, Quinn has fish lips.” She turned her face slightly as she looked at the face that had landed her on the cover of “Peoples Sexiest Women Alive” magazine just 3 months ago.

“Ms. Fabray, your on in five minutes.” the concert promoters voice broke through her thoughts, she watched as he hurriedly rushed around the stage, perfecting light settings, placing icy Evian spring waters on a round wrought iron table next to her baby grand piano.

Quinn still felt nervous before a show, she had been a pianist since before she could even talk properly, and it wasn’t until a few years later that one day she began to sing a song that she had written in her diary, that anyone even knew that she could sing, that she had the voice of what almost all the critics declared “the voice of an angel”, and as she read in reviews, the voice, the hauntingly beautiful use of the piano and of course the looks, had made her America’s pride and joy.

She stepped back from the full length mirror and took one last look at her out fit. Brown corduroy hip huggers with a white men’s size small sleeveless undershirt. A rhinestone strapped encrusted black bra peeked through at her shoulders. Her Favorite red cowboy boots incased her small feet.

Critics asked her all the time about her fashion style, 
“Where did it come from?” as they jabbed microphones into her face, “Who are your favorite designers?” as the TV cameras hot lights warmed her skin.

What they didn’t know is that, she didn’t care for dressing up and being put on a pedestal. She was and would always remain just a simple person. The clothes, the money, the fame, the adoration of her fans would never change her. She considered herself just an average 24 year old woman that loved creating music that made people laugh and cry. the same women who’s music people choose to be the first dance for there wedding receptions, that her music helped people cope with loss, frustration, heart ache. That’s what she had dreamed of and now her dreams had come true.

Quinn walked over to her piano and closed her eyes, her slender unpolished finger nails glided over the piano, her head cocked slightly to the side trying to catch any notes that were out of tune before the curtains would part and she would be flip the switch, and become the Quinn Fabray that her fans had came here to see. Energetic, smiling, confident.

What the world didn’t know is that inside, she was just as scared sitting up her as she was the first time she performed. She was 9 years old and on a tiny stage in the cafeteria of her elementary school. In front of her schools audience, a skinny, unsure, blonde haired little girl sat behind a piano, wanting to feel loved, wanting to make her mother proud of her. Hoping that she could bring a smile to the face of the only family she had. Her mother and her best friend. 

Quinn felt her stomach roll as she thought her mother would never again be waiting for her just off stage, never see her clapping and smiling. She had passed away 3 years ago of breast cancer, it still seemed like yesterday to Quinn.

“Ms. Fabray curtains open if 5….4…..3….2……1.” The promoter once again brought her back to the present time.

She nodded and began to slowly press the ivory keys of her piano; she brought her mouth to within inches of the microphone and began to sing with every ounce of passion in her soul. She sang.