Look at your thighs. Put down your food.

.

She's pretty.

A slim figure, blonde hair, and a sweet smile. She's prettier than most girls her age, it's clear puberty treated her nice. She does ballet and can bend her legs with ease as if they're made of rubber. In the plain eye, she seems like a fragile little girl. Not particularly tall but still a lovely and delightful creature. She isn't the prettiest girl in the school but no one could call her anything less than beautiful.

She's a plain girl.

She could be taller. High heels were always an option or maybe pants with stripes. She could be prettier. Make-up was supposed to be a must for girls her age, Brittany used to use it before she even began high school, she should probably use it more often. She could be slimmer too. She isn't like the famous ballerinas with the tiny waist and long legs but she could be.

She isn't enough.

Quinn Fabray is a lot of things. She used to be pretty as well, at some point, but she can't remember exactly when that was. The only thing she can bring to her mind crystal clear is the blue shirt, she wore a week ago that didn't fit quite right. Not like it used to. It's just a shirt but it makes Quinn sob quietly in her room's bathroom and prays that her mother wouldn't barge in without knowing as per usual.

"You're sweating."

"No kidding." Quinn told Marley out-of-breathe. She continued trying to stretch her legs for a split but only managed to make the pain she was feeling worse. 

"You could do it a week ago." Ryder pointed out. A correct statement that made Quinn feel worse."No pressure, or anything, but you have a try-out and you'll have to ace it. That means you must be able to do a split, the very least."

They're right. They might be imaginary but they are right and Quinn struggles to accept it. The truth hurts - that's her biggest problem - because right now it seems clear that she isn't made for this. That she's doing something wrong. She is always doing something wrong.

"Have you eaten anything?" Marley asks worryingly like a mother questioning their young child. Her voice is sympathetic and calm which briefly sends a wave of reassurance in Quinn's spine. It doesn't last long.

"An apple."

"Quinn, what have I repeatedly told you?"

Don't eat. Eating helps you gain weight. She can't, she's already on thin ice. She needs to be more careful and thoughtful. Marley tells her to count her portions and Quinn does it, but not always, because if she doesn't she gains weight and she can't afford it. She's won't afford it.

"I was hungry." it wasn't a lie. She didn't have lunch, thanks to the detailed talk the group had about Charlie's sex life, and she needed energy. "It was an apple."

It's an apple.

It's an apple.

It's an apple. She repeats it many more times in her head and hopes her words will linger. It's an apple. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

"Then why can't you do the split?" Marley asked satisfied"We're just looking out for you, Q. Don't let yourself loose."

.

When she gets to the building that she has to, she finds herself being all alone. Not only because Ryder and Marley decided to leave her on her own for this but also because she's ridiculously early. She doesn't mind. It gives her much time to stop panicking over her trials. She knows it's pointless. If she fails, her life goal goes to waste and that will, best case scenario, make her an emotional wreck.

Worst case scenario,

(she doesn't dare to think it.)

.

When the other girls arrive, they are all dancing gracefully. They are pretty and tall and elegant and Quinn watches them all with awe. She feels her legs shaking violently and her stomach twisting up. She doesn't make her unease obvious and yet it seems everyone catches on quickly. Their eyes pierce her soul.

She opens her phone and finds a text from Charlie wishing her good luck on her trials. She smiles.

"They told me I had to lose some more weight in order to be lifted." an incredibly tall girl whispers to another one and Quinn loses her confidence once more. She wants to throw up.

Quickly, she heads to the bathroom. She kneels over the toilet and waits for something to happen. Nothing comes but a burning sensation in her throat. She walks to the sink and opens it, letting the loud sound of water hitting glass fill the room.

 "You don't belong here," she whispers in a shaky voice. "you'll never do."

(One minute later, they call out her name but she has already called a cab to take her home.)

.

"How did it go?"

"How did what go?" Quinn asks her sister.'

"The ballet thingy." Brittany replied not taking her eyes off her phone.

"Great."

"Good luck then." Quinn nods and turns to the stairs. "Also, Brendon called, he told me that you should ring him up."

"Not really in the mood."

"He said it's important."