Do people even read St. Berry fanfiction anymore? Is the Glee fandom dead? I don't know, don't care, don't mind. I just hope someone stumbles across this story and motivates me to finish it - and it's going to be a long one. Let's just say I have Jesse and Rachel's future planned out for like, the next 20 years. So! Leave some feedback and let me know if you like this, and if I should keep writing it (no point if no one reads it anyway and all that). Enjoy the story!


Rachel had never been to this part of town before, with good reason. The buildings were broken down, rot creeping through the walls and roofs caving in. If she did not know any better, she'd say it was abandoned. However, the blaring music and the sound of broken laughter proved otherwise. It echoed throughout the empty streets, slithering out from beyond broken windows and open doors. Glass crunched beneath her feet as she walked carefully, her brand new heels not exactly meant for this environment.

She looked to Quinn, walking quietly by her side. The blonde was bouncing with barely contained excitement, and Rachel had to remind herself that she was here for her. Well, for their friendship, anyway.

They had been getting better, ever since Finn dumped Rachel for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Their shared resentment for the boy lead to their initial bonding, but they slowly had grown to see that they did, in fact, have a few things in common. Both had great expectations concerning their futures, driven by ambition and passion. Both cared deeply about their studies and had even started helping each other out. Rachel enjoyed the way Quinn pushed her out of her comfort zone, while Quinn seemed to find it hilarious to do so.

That was what brought them here; approaching a bar that should have long since been closed down, but had instead become a space for the more "alternative" crowd in Lima. Quinn had first gone to the place when she had her rebellious phase, however, she hadn't stopped coming since. So while she had cleaned up, there was still some part of her that felt a disconnect from the clean, preppy persona she usually displayed. She had told Rachel as much, and the brunette had agreed to accompany her there, eager to connect with her friend and at the same time experience something new. She knew there would be live music, and that the artist was someone Quinn actually knew.

The music slapped Rachel in the face as they walked inside, and she had to take a second to compose herself. She felt extremely out of place, even though she had dressed according to Quinn's guidelines. Yet it was as if people saw right through her, knew that she didn't belong there. She felt her friend grab her hand and drag her. She just barely avoided stumbling over her feet.

"Hurry up already, he's about to go on!" Quinn groans impatiently, dragging Rachel to the very edge of the stage. Indeed, the band currently on stage finished up their song, leaving room for whatever was about to happen.

Rachel worried her lip between her teeth, taking in her surroundings. Most of the patrons were dressed in black, some had their hair in crazy colors, while the vast majority looked like an exact replica of the same starving, white boy, piled together in one room.

She turned towards the stage when she heard clapping, and automatically she clapped along. A young man wandered onto the stage, guitar in hand and his guitar pick secured between his lips. He waved to the crowd, who responded with a deafening cascade of shouts and greetings. Rachel looked quizzically towards Quinn, who simply nodded. So this was the guy she knew.

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back a few stray curls, as he sat down. He settled in, making himself comfortable on the tall stool. He took the pick from between his lips, allowing his mouth to morph into a wide smile as he nodded towards the crowd. He strummed the guitar a few times, making sure it was tuned to perfection. Once satisfied, he lifted his head to look at the expectant crowd. He grabbed a hold of the mic before him, and liquid honey dripped from his mouth.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Jesse St. James," he chuckled as the crowd clapped once more, "I will be your entertainment here tonight. Let's start off with a slow one."

As the applause died out, he began strumming his guitar softly.

"I think you'll notice, when things become different."

"The good vibes in our lives, won't feel so consistent."

Rachel's mouth dropped open in awe. Quinn laughed at her friend, having anticipated a reaction like that. Wide-eyed, Rachel listened as Jesse's voice coated the room in a vibrant glow, mesmerizing the crowd.

"And less becomes more, cause the weight is too heavy."

"I swim in the water that's breaking your levy."

Quinn looked to Rachel, and mouthed "you like it?" Rachel nodded slowly, still a little pensive about letting herself give in to the man before her.

"The way that you left me is alright, it's alright."

"If I argue the point, then we yell and we fight."

"And I won't be home for the rest of the night."

"You might hate my words but you know that I'm right."

On stage, Jesse closed his eyes as he continued to sing. His hands flew effortlessly from chord to chord, and Rachel found herself jealous of the ease with which he was manipulating the instrument. He had an intense look on his face, conveying a message with the pure emotion rolling off of him.

"This is your life, there's no way to run from it."

"The doubt in your brain or the pain in your stomach."

"I only have but one complaint at the moment."

"Don't paint me black when I used to be golden…"

He dragged out the last note before the crowd erupted. Quinn had been accurate in her description of him. His voice was haunting, powerful, and seemed to wrap around you like a blanket adorned with thorns. He breathed confidence like a dragon breathes fire. He murmured a quick "thank you," into the microphone before stepping back to switch his acoustic guitar for a slick, black, electric one. He plugged it in, playing a few chords before throwing himself into the opening of a song that sounded vaguely familiar. Evidently, everyone else knew it, as they sang along as soon as Jesse opened his mouth.

"I don't mind, letting you down easy,"

"But give it time,"

"If it don't hurt now, just wait, just wait a while."

Quinn was jumping along, singing at the top of her lungs. Rachel tried to move with her, attempting to adjust to a dance that seemed to fit the music. The whole crowd was clapping along as the song progressed, but as Rachel gave up on trying to follow along, she simply looked at Jesse perform.

He was rocking back and forth on his feet, strumming the guitar with fervor. A sweat had broken out on his forehead, and his hair had fallen back down into his eyes from his vigorous movements. His mouth was just barely touching the mic, as he pushed out the lyrics with great force. His grey t-shirt fit snugly around his broad chest, his skinny jeans lengthening his legs until they reached his black chelsea boots. His blue eyes seemed to be holding back a storm, clouds swimming beyond. He looked like a rock star.

He played through his set, a mixture of melancholic love songs and energetic punk rock. Some original songs, some covers. By the time he was done, the crowd was going wild. Rachel figured that most of them probably knew him, seeing as he must be part of this scene. She applauded him, genuinely impressed by his performance. He disappeared backstage, and Quinn grabbed Rachel's hand to drag her to the bar. The blonde ordered them each a sangria, ignoring Rachel's protests about them both being underage, and the inevitable dangers of alcohol poisoning.

"Just take the drink, goody two shoes," Quinn rolled her eyes, pressing the cold glass into Rachel's hand. Rachel reluctantly accepted it, taking a small sip. To her surprise, it was actually not unpleasant. She took a bigger sip and stuck her tongue out at Quinn when the blonde smirked triumphantly. Before she could comment on it, Quinn was swept into a hug by a tall figure, wearing a leather jacket and a huge smile.

"You made it!" he laughed, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around once.

"Of course I did, idiot," Quinn grinned as he finally put her down, "I told you I would, didn't I?"

She patted his chest in a friendly gesture, before turning back around to Rachel, who was looking at the two with wide eyes.

"This is Rachel," Quinn gestured.

"Rachel," he repeated, as if trying it out on his own tongue before continuing, "I'm Jesse. It's a pleasure."

Rachel smiled widely as he grinned at her, so open and accepting, even as he looked her up and down with curiosity. He then reached out his hand, and Rachel shook it carefully. His grip was firm and warm, slightly sweaty from his earlier exhaustions. He drew back his hand and dried it quickly on his jacket.

"Sorry about the, well, the sweat," he chuckled, "sometimes I get so absorbed in the performance that I forget how much work it actually is."

"No worries," Rachel finally spoke, smiling as she raised her glass to her lips, "you were great."

"You think so?" Jesse ran his hand through his sweat-drenched curls, grimacing as he once again dried his hands off in his jacket. He looked like a child, receiving praise from his teacher. Nervous and excited, bubbling with joy at the compliment. He swayed slightly on his feet, eyes shining at her. They were even prettier up close.

"Definitely," Quinn butted in, "girl couldn't take her eyes off of you for a second."

"Really?" Jesse's smile widened, showcasing brilliant white teeth, a stark contrast to the broodiness of his stage persona, "to be completely honest, I saw you in the crowd and had to regroup for a second."

"Oh?" Rachel blushed furiously, thankful for the dim lights somewhat hiding the redness, "that's sweet."

She didn't know what else to say, and apparently neither did he. He simply turned to the bartender and ordered a new round of drinks for them all. Rachel hadn't even noticed that she had emptied the first one. Soon she found a new glass of sangria in her hand, while Jesse's slim fingers curled around a gin and tonic. Quinn started asking him about something on the set list, some new song. Rachel listened intently as he talked animatedly about his music. He seemed so in love with his craft, so passionate. It was refreshing, seeing as she was so used to people who merely enjoyed music. He seemed to possess some of the same intense love as she did. Different genres, most definitely, however music was music.

The topic turned to school, as Quinn told him about their upcoming midterms and he reminisced about his own senior year. He told them how he had been caught cheating, but that the school secretary who had found his notes, had been charmed into not ratting him out. He got an A on that test, and she received a large bouquet of flowers the following day. Apparently, he had charmed his way through all of school, convincing some of the smarter kids to do his homework, in turn of his protection. He did admit to that particular tactic being slightly manipulative but argued that he would have never graduated without doing what he did.

"I'd still be stuck in my senior year if it weren't for Hank," he sighed, referring to his old math tutor. And by tutor, he meant the guy who did all of his homework for him and then some, "I could've been held back enough times to still be there with you guys."

"Wait, how old are you even?" Rachel asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He seemed older, but not old.

"I'm 20," he responded, smiling somewhat triumphantly, "graduated 2 years ago. Not from McKinley though, Carmel."

"Oh really?" Rachel frowned at the name of their rival high school, "were you in glee then?"

"No way, that wasn't really my style," he rubbed his neck, "I was pretty angsty in high school, and glee club was all but that. They would have kicked my little emo ass out."

"Come on, you were never emo," Rachel huffed, trying and failing to even picture it, "if anything you look like you ran track or something."

"Ouch?" Jesse laughed, the deep sound raising Rachel's own lips, "that didn't sound like a compliment. Track is for people who can't combine running with actual skills. At least in football, you have to catch and throw, and in soccer, you have to run with a ball."

The three talked for about twenty more minutes before he was being dragged away by some of his other friends. He gave Quinn a kiss goodbye on the cheek, and after thinking for just a second, did the same with Rachel. She blushed once more, and Quinn gave her a pointed look.

"He likes you," she stated. Rachel looked at her in disbelief, brows raised as she released a high pitched laugh.

"He was just being nice," she insisted, cheeks still burning, "he's a nice guy."

"When he wants to be," Quinn agreed, before looking down into her drink, and then back up at Rachel, "thank you for coming with me. I didn't think you would, honestly. It's not really your scene, after all."

"Of course I wanted to come," Rachel grinned, grabbing Quinn's hand for a quick squeeze, "it was so much fun. I'm surprised you even invited me - but man, am I happy you did."

The two stayed chatting for a while, before agreeing to go home. But not before promising to do it again some other time. They went their separate ways, and even as Rachel said goodbye to her friend, she couldn't seem to shake the pull of a certain set of icy blue eyes.


That's all for now, folks! New chapters coming ASAP! Let me know what you thought :*