As soon as Rachel asked her to come find her, since she was obviously stuck in a state of shock somewhere on the street, Quinn stood up and made her way through the apartment she shared with her wife to collect her things. Though she was in no way dressed to leave the house, since photographers rather enjoyed stalking her and Rachel any chance they had, she knew she couldn’t go and make herself look presentable because she had no idea what kind of state the tiny singer was in. For all she knew, she was sitting on a bench hyperventilating and panicking. Shaking her head at her own thoughts, Quinn slipped on a jacket to hide the old Columbia t-shirt that was two sizes too big and then made her way out of the apartment, opting to take the stairs down to the lobby instead of the elevator to save herself time.
Once she was out of the building, Quinn began to walk around the block in somewhat of a hurry, attempting to find the singer at any one of the usual spots that she took the small puppy she adored so much to. It took about ten minutes of circling the block before she finally spotted her wife on a bench at a bus stop, which Quinn could only assume was the closest thing she could sit down on when the blonde had told her to do so. Biting her lip, she walked over to Rachel and quietly sat down beside her, a hand instantly reaching up to run through long, dark waves.