[ open f2f ].
Blaine looks absolutely ridiculous, it’s almost funny. He can’t dance worth a goddamn, which is why Quinn thinks it’s hilarious that he’s trying to win Rachel over with his ‘moves’, or whatever. Still, even though Blaine dances like a boyband member on steroids, she know’s that the classic stereotype of High School Royalty indicates that most girls want to be with him regardless.
She’s next to Mackenzie by the punch bowl they're attempting to spike, who surprisingly isn’t wearing a flannel shirt, encouraging some dude to not stare at her cleavage -- which, honestly, compared to most of the other girls in the table, there isn’t even really anything to look at -- while carrying on a conversation about how Mack spent the night previous living up to her name, except for the part where all she can think of is that if Blaine’s hand dips any lower, he’s going to be cupping Rachel’s ass in a way that is definitely not friendly.
“Want me to take that cup away from you?” Tony asks, mildly, before recoiling at the look she directs at him. “Or not.”
The damage is already done, though, and she excuses herself before heading outside for some much needed air. She leans against a wall, a sneakered-foot coming to rest against the brick, and when the gym doors open as another couple heads inside it literally puts her in a small pocket of shadow, blacking out the flickering orange light at the end of her freshly lit cigarette.
