A/N: First Glee story. Thank you kindly if you review.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except for the ones I create.
"Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I'd have the facts." To Kill a Mockingbird
She was nervous, jittery, excited, etc.; whatever other plethora of adjectives you could describe Rachel Berry at this moment in time. She was hopping from one foot to the other, circling the room all while warming up her vocals. For an outsider, it may seem crazy, but for Rachel Berry it was rituality.
Here she was, dressed in her costume, hair and makeup done, and into her sixth month of doing this role, yet she was still as bright and refreshing as the first night. She promised to give every ounce of herself to that audience every night. And if anything, Rachel Berry is true to her word.
From the moment she walked on stage, she held the audience in a metaphysical embrace, entrancing them in this piece. She pranced on the Broadway stage like she'd been doing it for years, and if you didn't have the Playbill to prove it otherwise, you might've thought she had.
She bows like any starlet at the end of the show, the brightest smile on her face. She rushes down to her dressing room, tugging on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, turning into New-York-City Rachel Berry. This wasn't Lima, Ohio Rachel Berry, after all.
She slips on a pair of moccasins before heading out the stage door, waving goodbye to some of her cast mates and receiving a kiss to the forehead from her director.
She walks outside into the beginnings of a chilly winter night. Fans are squealing left and right, and she quickly signs everything she can her hands on, posing for pictures and listening to how she has inspired teens who are now in the place she was a couple of years ago: stuck in a dead-end-town, unappreciated and overly talented. She falsely tells the men who give her their number that she'll give them a call, and soon enough the stage door crowd is emptying out, satisfied, leaving the few remaining members of the cast.
She sees them from the corner of her eye. If she didn't stick around to sign a late fan's Playbill, she probably would've missed them. But there they were, standing near the far end of the barricade, looking in her direction. She said goodbye to her friend and walked towards the small group.
Mr. Schue stood front and center, a sleek coat over his shoulders and Ms. Pillsbury perched silently on his arm. Next to him was the towering Finn Hudson, his arm around Quinn Fabray's shivering shoulders. Artie and Tina stood a ways away, along with Mercedes and Kurt. Finally, Puck came into view over the left shoulder of Finn, his handsome face cast downward at the asphalt.
"Rachel, we wanted to say how proud we all are of you," Mr. Schue stated, his predictable smile gracing his face.
Truth is, Rachel Berry never prepared herself for this moment. You think she would, given the circumstances of her departure, but this wasn't the case. Rachel Berry was totally out of her element. She didn't know which way to swing.
"Oh, um, thanks," she mumbled, shuffling her feet. The eyes looked at her expectantly.
She hadn't seen a single soul from Lima, Ohio (besides her fathers, of course) since she left after senior year. She left on a full ride to NYU's Tisch School of the Arts, and never looked back. Especially not to the club who treated her so dejectedly over the four years of high school. The only person she could see honestly standing in front of her was Mr. Schue, who was one of the only ones who truly had faith in her.
She knew they had come along way to see her perform, so she didn't want to leave them out in the cold, literally and figuratively.
"Listen, I'm heading back to my apartment. Why don't you guys meet me there? I'll have some wine and snacks and we can catch up. Here's my address." She whipped out a pen, scribbling her Manhattan address on someone's program.
She hailed down a taxi in seconds, slipping into the backseat, leaving the door ajar.
"Some of you can ride with me," she called to them.
Not long after, Mr. Schue and Emma slipped in, closing the door. She told the driver her address and sat back.
"I can't tell you how great it is to see you, Rach. You've gotten even more talented, if that's possible. I've been telling my Glee kids how I taught you and they're amazed. I even have a girl who reminds me a bit of yourself." Mr. Schue seemed genuinely happy to see her, for which she was glad. Emma, on the other hand, was busy trying not to pay attention to the fact she was sitting in a grimy New York City cab.
"Thanks, Mr. Schue. I really appreciate it. I'm glad you guys made it."
They finally pulled up to her place, and she punched in her code and walked through the doors, holding one open for her teachers. She waved to Hank the doorman, told him she was expecting guests, and then took the elevator to the seventh floor, to which it stopped with a jump. A young girl sat on the sofa waiting for Rachel, who slipped the girl a twenty as she left the apartment. To Will and Emma's confused faces, Rachel explained she was the sitter, to which they assumed meant "house sitter".
Her apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't a studio apartment either. It had a nicely sized living room with a sectional and a new flat-screen television. The kitchen was quite spacious, and there was a hallway that led to two bedrooms and two bathrooms.
"This place is gorgeous, Rachel," Emma commented, taking a seat on the sofa.
"Thank you. I recently bought it, actually. The other place was getting too small."
Emma's brows furrowed as she saw the stray toys in the living room, but ignored it.
The bell rang, and Rachel opened the door as the rest of the glee club filed in. They all took a seat on the sectional, looking around in awe at the apartment. It was still a little barren because she hadn't really moved in yet, but it was getting there.
She was pouring some salsa into a bowl when she heard the door creak open down the hall and a tiny girl step into the living room, rubbing her eyes.
"Momma, I thirsty."