𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲, quinn fabray.

011: sickly, sickly butterflies.

Dylan tends to do a lot of stupid things when the loneliness becomes all too much. And then that loneliness turns into an overwhelming sickness in which the only label that comes close to it is pure regret. Transparency can do that to a person.

Quinn had been awfully nice to her ever since that night. Dylan saw her smiles, but through them she saw pity, which only made her turn pink in shame. Quinn had a skill for lingering, Dylan had noticed. They'd been getting. . .cosier ever since, and, not that she wasn't glad for it, it was just confusing. She felt eyes tickling her body as she walked through the bustling corridors the Monday after. Her own eyes seemed more interested in the floor. Pretending not to care. . .it was a tricky art.

Glee rehearsal was equally as suffocating. Understandably, Dylan wasn't in the good books of many people in there. Truthfully, she wouldn't be surprised if the team adopted a knack for inter-team slusheeing. She was sure at least a few of them were feeling vengeful against her. Her knuckles had healed to a greenish hue, a sickly color, and it hurt every time she flexed her hand into a fist. She had a habit of doing that when she was nervous. She'd been doing it a lot lately.

She wasn't sure if there was a science behind it, but time moved faster when she was stressed. She was certain of that fact. So, the hairography assignment was discarded before it was even seriously considered. Jane Adams Reform School gifted them an eye widening performance and the team were brought back down to earth when they collaborated with Haverbrook School for the deaf. Dylan had an epiphany as Cyndi Laupers 'true colours' rang through the auditorium. And suddenly she felt like a fool.

As the song drew to a close, and many of the team members contemplated their whirlwind of emotions, Dylan realised something that made her nauseous. She couldn't look away from all her blonde beauty, and she realised then that it wasn't the first time she had looked for her in a full auditorium. Her eyes had scanned the choir room looking for the same thing, and the corridors, and on the field during football practice.

Shit, shit, shit. The mantra had started. . .she didn't know when. But, whenever it was, it wouldn't stop. Pesky butterflies, sweaty palms, an inability to refrain the corner of her lip from pulling up under her gaze. She felt good. . .and that was bad.

"Can we, uh—?" That was how their first conversation had started after. . .well, after. "Look, can we forget what I said at your place?"

To Dylan's astonishment, Quinn laughed. It was a breathy, light laugh, but a laugh all the same. "I'm not going to tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about," she said. Dylan's reply was meek, "you're not?" Quinn shrugged, "no, why would I? Plus, I'm honoured you had the confidence to be so. . .honest with me. It's not everyday Dylan Miller expresses herself."

That was a few days ago, and things since then had been unusually splendid. Between her and Quinn, that is. Her relationships (or now lack thereof) with a lot of other members of the club were rocky. Or completely squashed. Dylan had a lot of worries regarding that, but, selfishly, they reached their peak when Mr. Schue revealed some 'great news' during their second rehearsal of the week.

"Great news! Glee Club gets a photo in the Thunderclap!" Dylan grimaced at this new found information. Her smile, provoked from her jesting with Quinn, was forgotten as Mr. Schue spoke again. "But I had to compromise to do it. We only get a quarter page in the back. Which means we have to pick two team captains to appear in the photo. So, tomorrow we're gonna put it to a vote. Exciting, huh? All right!"

Rachel was a shoo-in for captain no. 1. As for captain no.2. . . Crap. The universe was seriously out to get her. This couldn't have happened before she burnt just about every bridge she had in here? Wide eyed at the realisation, her eyes scurried over the room and caught more than enough people staring at her. They really weren't that good at hiding their thoughts. Even one vote would secure her a title and she had more than enough attention that she wasn't certain just the one vote was coming her way.