There Are No Such Things As Happy Endings
AN: So I know I for one wish there was more St Berry closure this season or interaction even. For those of you who read The Whole World Disappears, this is the St Berry futurefic as promised. Enjoy!
Ch 1: Inevitable
They were inevitable.
Two stars aligned across the bright gleaming sky, sparkling like glowing lights illuminating everything beautiful to make it glorious. They were a perfect match, soul mates even, he believed. Made for each other to fit as other halves.
Fate would have it he would meet her years after trying to forget her, all the heartbreak, the rejection and the bruised ego. He'd picked himself up after she had shattered him to pieces with her decision to stay with him, that idiot who could never measure up to what she deserved. He was no match for her and he knew it, only she was blinded by his boyish charm and giant mutant form. What was so great about him?
Jesse St James never lost. He never took no for answer but with her beating to his heart, he couldn't lift himself up and fight for her to conquer his realm. She was supposed to be his, the one thing on this lonely planet that could make the soulless automaton human.
Her hair cascades against thje air effects of the theatre as she captivates him with her portrayal of this lost girl held hostage against her will to stay in world she was unfamiliar to. She was born to act, the take people's breath away and bring life to the those dead inside. She was magic, lighting up the stage with her beauty and her presence. Unforgettable.
Last time they had encountered each other, he had sucked her face with vigour, all these years of craving her taste, her sweet tender lips to satisfy his desire. He was burning up for her and unlike the other guy who would have let go, he would do anything for her.
There were other girls, hook ups, whores and clients, even some actresses. They were also petite brunettes with a loud talkative personality, reminiscent of a tiny little lady he wished was his all along.
It's the first time he's seen her just act, no singing, no monologues or ballads to express her melancholy or the depth of her emotion, overflowing with a never ending stream of easy tears and breathtaking gaze of pure in her element moments. She was playing a hostage and she did it without any vocal chords stretching with strings of beauty from her pipes, yet it was all music to his ears.
He's been watching over her, clipping newspapers and hoarding magazine articles of her debut parts on Broadway plays as she stomps all over the theatre she was born to own. The curtains close and she bows down with the rest of the cast, miniature against all the taller boys and girls lining up the front row. He stands up and claps, whistling with his fingers in his mouth, his eyes glowing with pride. He's never been so proud of her and yet she is practically a stranger to him again. It pulls at his heart that he missed out on her.
Their chance at happiness was over when he let ago, like always, he stood with his regrets, brushed under the carpet of hidden memories and feelings he bottled up like the stout ruthless talent agent he was acclaimed to be.
Their eyes meet across the room, her lashes flickers and closing as if to ensure she isn't dreaming and he smiles smugly, standing erect. He still has it. The effect on her. To make her completely and utterly speechless. She's stood still staring at him as he stands in the middle row continuing to clap for her, giving her a standing ovation as the crow disappears around him. A girl, someone who looks an awful lot like that shy girl in their glee club on those years ago, ushers her away to change out of her costume.
Tonight feels like those fantasy moments you see in movies, wishing they were real only to wake up and find out it was just a surreal experience you conjured up with your longing ache for certain things missing in your empty life.
That's what he feels now. Empty. Sure Jesse St James is the top 10 talent agent in the nation and he has been known for finding the rarest and most unique ingénues and protégés of the entertainment profession, holding buckets of money and living comfortably to escape reality every once in a while. But what was reality when you couldn't have the girl of your dreams?
He hides in the shadows, lurking in on her as she gets mobbed by hundreds of adoring screeching fans, as much in love with her as he is with her, has been and always will be. She's enchanting, the night light hitting her delicate porcelain face perfectly, her hair cascading along her tanned honey like skin of her bare shoulders, the vest she wears highlighting her bust emphatically. She's so freaking beautiful and he can't take his eyes off her.
He's about to leave, walk to his car and head home without a single goodbye. It's become a habit, now, leaving her without a word spoken between them so it hurts less when he finds out she has somebody more gentle and docile loving her instead of someone as passionate and ferocious as him, yearning for her, his body like a volcano about to erupt from her contact. He hears her yell his name, recognising the curls at the back of coiffed hair, his scarf wrapped around his neck as his leather jacket and shades sit on his heaving chest. He breathes in, who would have thought it, Jesse St James nervous? Only Rachel Berry could make him a mumbling idiot, breaking his characteristic suave air as he turns into a hormonal little boy crushing over the pretty girl with the brown hair, big brown eyes and kissable plump lips to die for.
He hears her footsteps, the click of her heels on the granite and turns, calming himself to face her, to talk after an eternity of silence.
No words. Just his eyes on her, eyeing her fine frame, the delicate curves of her petite figure, the curls of her wavy chocolate hair and her pretty eyes glistening with affection as she demands an explanation. She looks so cute right now, so adorably feisty it makes him chuckle a little.
He remembers a girl like that, one he knew before she became romantic and foolish over a guy who held her back, one that was outspoken, fiery and melodramatic. They were two drama queens bringing the theatricality to a mundane existence. Without her, his life felt meaningless. He gets it know. That emptiness. She was the piece missing leaving him incomplete.
'Jesse St James!' She says, her eyebrows crinkled in that cute way of hers and her puny hands on her hips.
He raises his chin up, smug and smirking in delight at her outrage.
'You do not just sneak into a production of my play at a theatre and leave without a goodbye, do you hear me!'
He looks at the ground, shuffling his feet as he smiles sheepishly. She always was a force to be reckoned with.
'Crystal.' He whispers, playfully.
Her eyes meet his and her walls break away, the anger or what little of it she had disappearing as she giggles, clashing into his chest, his arms tightening around her as he kisses the top of her head, breathing in and sniffing her coconut scent. God he missed her.
His chin rests atop her tiny head and he strokes her silky hair as she clings to him, as if afraid to let go, as if breaking away would mean he's vanish off the face of the earth.
His hands circle her waist and he creates a space between them so they can just look at each other. He's still the stylish well dressed handsome womaniser he always has been and she's still the sophisticated girly girl with the ribbon in her hair and the tight fitting clothes that would make anyone look provocative, leaving her adorably childlike and innocent.
They're 22, or more accurately, she's 22 and he's 24. He towers over her as she looks up at him in awe, as if he just made all her dreams come true and they've escape to this far away land only they know.
He leans in to stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb as she tilts her face up to meet his lips, her hands cupping his clean shaven face, brown eyes mixing with piercing blue eyes as they kiss passionately amongst the dim street lights of New York City.
They may never have their happy ending but for now, he has her.