A/N: So it's been a while. But I'm trying something new, an entirely different category. I'm sorry if this is terrible, my inspiration isn't what it used to be. Hope you enjoy.
In the End
By: xoAlmostFamous
It didn't sound right.
She grazed her fingers over the ivory keys and started her next attempt at playing a song. But over and over again, it didn't sound right. It was off. It was unexplainable, something that frustrated her. She pressed into the key numerous times, but it was wrong. Exasperated, she groaned in anger and threw her head in her hands.
Rachel Berry couldn't handle disappointment, in any sense. Whether it be the lead in the community theater production of Hairspray, or if her hair didn't turn out like she wanted in the morning, it was something Rachel had trouble with. The fact that she couldn't play a simple song on the piano irritated her. She could be better, and failure was inadequate.
Her face was laced with concern, and Rachel sighed heavily. She placed her hands on the ancient piano that rested in the choir room. Again, she tried the song again. The sound was beautiful, and she began to hum to the melody. A ker-plunk interrupted the harmonious sound.
"What am I doing wrong?" Rachel was ready to give up, aggravated by the threat of defeat.
She stood up and made a beeline for the door. Rachel felt brainless. She didn't understand what she was doing to make it sound so terrible. Was her ability fading? Was she suddenly become less talented? It just didn't make sense.
"Going somewhere?"
Rachel didn't realize she had been staring at her feet until she had run into someone. "Sorry," she muttered, "I didn't mean to."
"Rachel." A husky, male voice responded. She would recognize that voice anywhere.
Compose yourself, she thought, never show weakness.
"Oh hi, Finn," Rachel answered shakily, "I was just working on my repertoire. Never too early to start practicing for regionals!"
He glanced at her doubtingly. "Are you okay? I heard you getting frustrated in the practice room, and I was coming to see if everything was all right."
Her stomach did a flip-flop. Finn's leaf-green shirt brought out his brown eyes, and it was clear the sun had been giving his skin a golden undertone. His forehead was creased with genuine worry, and he was gently leaning against the locker. The butterflies in her body fluttered, and she found it increasingly difficult to get any words out.
"Rachel," Finn waved his large palm, "Are you still with me?"
She shook her barrel curls and brought herself back to reality. "Oh, yeah, sorry. It's just, I was working on a piece of music, but the piano kept becoming off key. I'm bothered by it, Finn. I feel like it's my fault."
He smiled softly, and Rachel's heart melted, albeit unintentionally. "That's a silly thing to be upset about, Rach. Come on, let me see if I can help."
She had to resist the urge to giggle. Finn Hudson had respectable intentions, but he wasn't exactly the Barbra Streisand among Grammy winners. The chances that he could help her were about as high as the chance that Ms. Pillsbury wouldn't have hand sanitizer.
He opened the door for Rachel, and she grinned thankfully at him. Her cheeks become a fiery red, and the heat began to flush her out. She sat delicately onto the piano bench where he soon joined her.
"Play for me." He asked her, as he tapped the wood of the piano's framework.
Nervously, she began the music. It was an original work, and Finn had never listened to it before. It started with a thriving sound, and her embarrassment began to fade. Right as Rachel's confidence was beginning to climb, ker-plunk.
An irate tear fell down her cheek. "I don't understand it, Finn. It's the correct key, but it's so flat. I hate this, I really do."
Finn shifted uncomfortably on the bench, but put an apprehensive arm around Rachel's shoulders. "Hate what, exactly?"
"Failing. I know it sounds stupid, but this is what I'm good at. If I can't play the piano, what's next? My voice goes away?"
"I don't think it works like that, Rachel." Finn responded quietly.
"Well it doesn't matter! Nobody cares about me unless I'm singing, or acting, or performing. Without it, I'm nothing."
"I care about you."
He said it almost inaudibly. Rachel fingered the end of her purple pleated skirt anxiously. "Thanks, Finn."
The bench creaked as he silently stood up.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to make sure you think people still care about you."
Finn opened up the lid of the piano. He chuckled calmly and pulled out a bobby pin on top of the chord. "I think Mercedes should start doing her hair before she comes to glee practice."
Rachel stared at him in shock. "I feel like an idiot."
"Don't," He answered, "That kind of stuff happens to me all of the time."
The two sat in silence as Rachel cautiously lay her head on Finn's shoulder. He smelled of spearmint and fresh shampoo, meaning he must have come from football practice. She had only allowed herself to be this close to him twice, and both times he had left her heartbroken. But she was comfortable this way, as if they fit together, like a two puzzle pieces.
"Rachel, I really should be going. My mom has a class tonight on how to bejewel denim."
"Okay," She replied in a small voice.
"I'll be seeing you, though. Keep working on that song, though. It sounds incredible so far."
She smiled a toothy grin and watched his large body trudge out of the room. His words replayed in her mind over and over, as if there was a tape recorder playing in her head.
She started to play her song one last time. It began just as melodious as the before, and she eagerly anticipated the climax of the piece. It flowed fluently, with no ker-plunks in earshot.
A smile tugged on her lips. Rachel Berry hated disappointment. But maybe sometimes, she could make an exception.
A/N: I know this was not very good, but I'm just trying to get myself back into writing. I'm going to try and do some more FinnRachel stuff, so please let me know what you think! :)
-Caitlin
