A/N I was inspired by Mike's statement in Journey ("I was afraid to dance outside my room"), along with my own experience growing up. I guess I just wanted to write someone relatable for those of us that weren't brave enough to be friends with people that needed to be strong constantly. Especially not in grade school.
Mike remembered the first time he saw Rachel Berry. She wasn't so unlike the girl she was in high school, except six and in kindergarten. She still dressed in knee socks, skirts, and shirts with big fluffy animals on them. The colors were softer then, more pastel, and her hair was often braided in pigtails with ribbon. However, she was still just as exuberant and eager to participate: within five minutes of the first day of class she'd proudly announced that she had two gay dads, although, since nobody but the teacher knew what that meant, Mrs. Bailey was able to segue away from the subject quickly.
Unlike him, Rachel didn't notice Mike Chang at first. He was very quiet, and would only speak if the teacher asked him to. Most of his answers were in nods or head shakes or shrugs; sometimes he would throw in a few words to clarify. He dressed like a boy: jeans and a tee-shirt of the Hulk or someone. Even his smile was timid, though when she thought about it, very sweet. However, she didn't think about it much at all.
He watched Rachel during recess. She didn't have any friends to play with, but she loved to sing and dance. Sometimes she sang songs he didn't recognize, but often she sang Disney songs that he knew. She stood on her bench, away from the playground, and performed to an invisible audience, beaming as she took her bow. She'd told the class she was going to be a star on Broadway. He didn't know what that was, but it looked to him like she was doing making a good start.
It took him two weeks of watching before he got up the nerve to go stand by her. She was singing "I Just Can't Wait To Be King," and her feet were moving around in a series of steps that looked really neat.
"Everybody look left," she sang, shuffling left. Then, as she shuffled right, "Everybody look right."
"Everywhere you look I'm standing spotlight," Mike sang softly as he performed a fluid trick that caused his entire body to slide next to hers.
Rachel gaped at him in wonder, completely losing track of the beat. She just stared, eyes wide, causing his face to turn red; it had been silly to interrupt her, to think he could play with her. He took a step away, then saw her face light up in a grin as she took his hand.
"Let every creature go for broke and sing," she said, dancing next to him.
He copied her with his own moves, never letting go of her hand. "Let's hear it in the herd and on the wing," he sang smiling, though still timidly.
"It's going to be King Simba's finest fling!" Rachel belted.
And together they sang "Oh I just can't wait to be king! Oh I just can't wait to be king! Oh I just can't wait—to be king!"
They sat down on the bench, both giggling. Rachel's smile beamed out at him, and he decided he liked it even better than her normal smile. He liked how happy she looked.
"I didn't know you performed," she told him excitedly. He just shrugged, shaking his head slightly. He didn't perform really; not like she did.
She shook her head in disagreement with his gesture. "You're good," she assessed. "A little quiet, but still. Do you take lessons?" When he shook his head again, she told him proudly, "My daddies take me to singing lessons twice a week. Then I have tap, ballet, and jazz dancing lessons the rest of the time." She looked at him curiously. "What kind of lessons do you do?"
He gazed at her in amazement. Tap? Ballet? Jazz? He didn't even know what those were, but they sounded hard. He shrugged uncomfortably; he just danced what he felt, what made him happy.
She didn't seem deterred by his unresponsiveness or lack of knowledge about the stage. "That's okay," she told him eagerly. "I think you're really good to have your own kind of dance. Does someone teach you?" When he shook his head again, feeling dumber by the second, he was surprised to see the wonder in her face.
"Wow," she replied, obviously impressed. Rachel worked hard to be as good as she could, but this boy did all that he did just on his own. She decided she liked Mike, even if he didn't say much.
They spent the next two months as best friends. Every day at recess Rachel would take his hand and lead him out to their spot on the bench and they would sing and dance. Rachel did most of the talking, but sometimes he would suggest a song or put together a dance combo for them to do. Rachel loved to watch him when he danced: his face would light up and he would make it look so easy.
Sometimes Rachel would try to copy him, but she often fell down; she just couldn't do the same thing. She never felt bad about falling though; no matter how far away he was when she fell, he was always by her side in the next instant to give her his hand and a smile as he helped her back up.
One day after school he went to her house where he met her two dads. She called one "Dad" and the other "Daddy", so he didn't have to ask how she told them apart. When he shyly asked why she had two, she told him without looking up from her coloring book that it was because her family was special.
Mike wanted to ask about her mom. He knew that everybody had a mom; his cousin Mandy had explained that to him when she had her baby Jamie. However, he looked at Rachel—tongue sticking out in concentration at the pink dress she was coloring—and he looked at her dads, and decided that some things didn't really matter.
The end of their friendship came about just after Thanksgiving. Rachel had suggested that they give a performance for both of their families over the holiday, and Mike had gotten his parents to agree. She had decided they were going to perform "He's a Tramp" from Lady and the Tramp to showcase her singing and his dancing. She'd even had him come up with a part for them to sing and dance to together, and both sets of parents had been very proud.
At lunch, she had shared with him a leftover "Tofurkey" sandwich—a turkey sandwich that wasn't made of turkey. Apparently, Rachel's family was vegan, which she explained meant they didn't eat things like meat or dairy. Mike liked Rachel, but he wasn't sure he'd want to live a life without pepperoni pizza and pancakes.
They'd just sat on their bench, Rachel still talking about the health benefits of Tofurkey over the real thing, when Mike heard steps coming closer to them. His eyes went wide with worry as he looked up to see Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson walking their way.
He saw Rachel stiffen at their approach, and moved to grab her hand. Rachel was bold and proud, but she wasn't stupid. She knew she wasn't well-liked in her class, and that people made fun of her and her singing. That's why they stayed far from the playground when they played together; to keep from inviting trouble from boys like Noah—or Puck as he called himself—and Finn who made it their job to pick on people.
They'd managed to stay off of their radar for months due to a feud between the boys and a group of blonde girls ironically led by a Latina named Santana Lopez. The two groups, probably the meanest in kindergarten, had made the other kids' lives a little easier by fighting each other for the first couple months. Now, however, it seemed they'd taken a break.
"Mike, you're holding hands with Rachel Berry?" Finn asked in disbelief. "You might get cooties!"
Mike said nothing; he wasn't afraid of girl cooties, especially not from Rachel.
"That's not what I'd be afraid of," Santana jeered, walking towards them with a malicious look. "I'd be more afraid of catching her dads' cooties."
Quinn, her second in command, giggled, followed by titters from the others. "Yeah," she added, making a face. "They're gay."
Mike was confused. He didn't understand what it meant really to be gay; his parents had told him it just meant that Rachel's dads loved each other and Rachel very much and were a family together. But the way Quinn said it made it sound bad, and he accidently let go of his friend's hand as he took a moment to figure things out.
Rachel didn't miss the significance of him letting go of her. She knew that she was alone, and in danger of losing her best friend. She wouldn't back down though. She held her chin high and proclaimed, "My daddies do not have cooties!"
"Yeah?" Puck countered, looking from her to Mike. "Then why are you dancing around all of the sudden, Mike? Are you a girl now? Do you want to be a pretty ballerina? Do you wear a tutu?"
The little boy was scared. Rachel of course had showed him some of her dance moves, but she hadn't said that only girls did it. He of course learned much later in life that there were many males involved in dance, but at the time he was a six-year old boy being told that his best friend's dads gave him cooties that made him act wrong.
Mike took a step backwards: away from the kids that surrounded them, away from Rachel. He saw her try to catch his eye, but he was afraid to look at her.
"Mike is really talented—he dances because he's good," Rachel bragged, not realizing that, to Mike, she was making things worse. "He doesn't even need lessons."
"So you dance like a girl without help Mike?" Puck teased, followed by giggles from Santana and her followers. "Maybe you do belong with Freaky Rachel Berry then."
"I'm not a freak Noah!" Rachel shouted.
Puck's eyes flashed up at her. He strode to where she stood and pushed her hard, causing her to fall on the ground. "My name is Puck, freak," he said angrily as he towered over her.
It hurt; Rachel wasn't going to deny it. But what really made her want to cry was the fact that, for the first time since they'd met, Mike Chang simply watched as she fell to the ground; stood there as she was quickly surrounded by laughter and taunting.
Mike couldn't stand it. Rachel's eyes brimming with tears had made things too hard. He ran to the boy's bathroom and hid there for the rest of recess.
He'd let her down. She'd once called him the Fred Astaire to her Ginger Rogers, and even though he didn't know who they were, he knew that that had meant he was really important to her. And she had been really important to him.
He didn't say anything when they went back to class, which wasn't unusual for him. But Rachel, eyes red and puffy, also she said nothing as she grabbed her pencil box and papers and moved to sit by Jacob Ben-Israel, which he knew was very unusual for her.
Mike never danced at recess again. In fact, it would be ten years before he felt comfortable dancing outside of his own bedroom again. Puck and Finn, Santana and all of her cronies, didn't bother him anymore, especially when he began hanging out with another quiet boy named Matt. He saw them continually pick on Rachel though; probably because she never let herself be intimidated by their jeering.
Rachel wouldn't back down, wouldn't let them break her. She wouldn't give her classmates that kind of power, let them tear down her hopes and dreams. She would steel herself against all of the bullies and critics and anybody else that would try to stand in her way. Crying over the betrayal of her best friend was the last time she'd cry in front of them, and not just because that was the last time for a long time she would have a best friend (or any friend, for that matter).
At five years old, both Mike Chang and Rachel Berry had realized that sometimes it's not as simple as two people who have fun together being able to be friends.
