The demise of Rachel and Jesse comes when she turns eighteen a month after graduation, and a month before she is about to leave for New York. She breaks up with him on a park bench, his hand in hers, the orange sun setting behind them. He does not ask why; he doesn't want to hear the answers and she doesn't believe that the tightening in her throat will allow for additional speech. When it is over, they sit there, quietly in silence, his thumb massaging the inside of her wrist. She'll be the first to leave. Even though she ended the relationship, she doesn't want to be the one who has to watch him leave.
She walks home, the quiet sounds of her neighborhood in her ear. She wishes she had music to listen to at a time like this, a song to distract her from real life. She doesn't cry, and she can't help but wonder if she should be tearing. Her first real relationship has drawn to a close, and she can't help but wish to cry; she has to feel something. She blinks her eyes furiously, but she does not cry. Her footsteps grow heavy behind her, the nothingness multiplying inside her like a dead weight. It will be fine, she reassures herself. Everything will be fine, and this was for the best.
She needs to be alone to be at the top.
She spends the next three weeks packing, and saying good-bye to old faces, ones that have become familiar to her as the creases on her wrist. She attends the Glee going away part, hugging those who have been such an integral part of her life. It's bittersweet; everyone knew that this day would come but she taps something deeper inside of her to have the courage to say good-bye. She's always possessed that missing chip. She says her last good-byes to the boys that have meant the most to her these past few years. She has a quiet lunch with Finn in the auditorium the first place where they had that pseudo date; back when she assumed kisses meant something. She hugs him when it's over, and lies against her heart, promising to write. She looks away before her composure slips, before her emotions get the best of her.
She sees Puck in the 7/11 parking lot, a slushie in his hand and a wink in his eye. He spills it on her, and she'll spill one back, getting him right between the eyes. They sit on the curb, and she doesn't say a word but she thinks she'll miss him most of all. Jesse has been her boyfriend in every sense of the word, but Puck, Puck has become her best friend after their brief fling; her first phone call and her last good-bye. Rachel tells him she'll stay in touch, and he ruffles her hair, laughing in her face. He whispers in her ear to enjoy the city lights instead and not to worry about him, and she holds on an extra second too long, and leaves before he can see her cry. She breaks up with her boyfriend of two years and she can't find a single teardrop to shed; Puck whispers a kind word in her ear, and she wants to bawl like a baby. She ignores what this might mean, she is leaving after all.
She doesn't say good-bye to Jesse.
She walks out into the driveway on moving day, and she doesn't look back at her childhood house. This is no time for reminiscing about the past, staring at the trees by her window. There's nothing left for her here, memories eventually fade away. She will not be returning, anyway. Her fathers have bought an RV, off to scour the states with their newfound freedom. They hug her, and promise to visit her, and she says all of the right words but she misses them even before they get inside their new home. She watches their vehicle fade in the distance, and long after she has gotten on her flight, she still sees them in her field of vision.
She doesn't keep her promise to Puck, just like they both knew she would. It begins because she's too busy to write, classes and clerical work keep her occupied a significant chunk of the time. Every spare moment that she catches is devoted to auditions, of making her big dream come true. She is busy, and after a while, she thinks it would be best not to pry up the past. He's living his life, and she's in the midst of hers, whatever that may be.
Rachel hears things pertaining to him through the grapevine, her dads consistently filling her in on the latest news back home. Finn marries Quinn in a garden ceremony, and they're happy together; two teachers making the world a better place. Rachel is happy for the young couple, her illusions about regarding a possible relationship with Finn faded a long long time ago. Will and Emma are happy, her OCD calming down enough for them to bring a baby into the home. Several of the Glee kids have scattered across the states, a postcard here and there has made its way into her mailbox. She doesn't hear from Puck, blaming it on the distance spanning the miles between them. Friends grow apart, coming and going as the seasons.
She runs into Jesse one afternoon, crashing into his lanky bod coming out of a theater. She falls onto him accidentally and she doesn't feel anything when she sees the shock settle onto his face. She congratulates him on obtaining a part rather quickly, the lead role nonetheless, and pleasantries are exchanged. She looks at the boy she spent much of her time with, but it's as though she doesn't recognize him at all. He walks away, and she continues in the other direction. She's rounded the block when she forgets she saw him at all.
She gets a small part in an off Broadway play three years after she's moved to New York, and she's so excited she paces the small confines within her apartment all night, too excited to sleep. It's a small part but it's a stepping stone, it's the beginning of everything she has spent her time yearning for. She celebrates with a cup of orange juice on her fire escape, and she falls asleep with her eyes on the stars.
It takes time but she works her way to the top. Two years after her break, she's the lead in an amazing production with an amazing cast, an amazing director. She's grateful for everything she has in her life, she understands the sacrifices in relationships she has made to get to this point. Everything is amazing, she fervently chants to herself every time she's tired, or sad, or tired of waking up in bed alone. She rumples the covers every night to make it a bed for two, but it's always her in the end; it's always her empty hand reaching over to the emptiness.
It is early fall when she runs into Puck on the corner of Broadway, underneath the multicolored lights of Times Square. The sun is fading into the sky slowly, a light orange coloring the background where they stand. He sees her first, grabbing her and spinning her in circles until she has lost her breath. He puts her down, but her feet don't touch the ground; her body is still inside the warmth of his embrace, floating on air.
"Are you alright?" Puck asked, concerned about the expression on her face.
She can only nod frantically. She's an actress, she becomes exposed every night on stage in front of strangers, and one hug from a high school friend, and she turns into a shaking mess.
"Fancy seeing you here, big shot. Where are you off to?"
She gestures in the direction of the theater, her thumb sticking out apologetically.
"I'm running late for a performance, I'm sorry. It's hard to talk."
"That's really great, Berry. I'm glad you made it to the big time. Yeah, I'm running a little late myself but hey, listen. Would you like to have a late dinner with me? You know, catch up for olds time sakes."
"Yeah, I'd like that," said Rachel quietly, a hesitant smile opening on her face. It would be nice to reunite with an old friend from high school, especially one who meant so much to her during that time. She debates apologizing for being a poor friend these past few years, but she sees the expression on his face; he doesn't seem to mind.
He grabs her phone number and envelops her in another hug, and walks the other way. She stares at his retreating figure, and tries to catch herself before the roots of hope sprout inside her heart. She glances at the time, and sprints to the theater. She's going to be late if she stands around on this trip of memory lane.
Rachel arrives at the theater, several seconds late, and gets dressed quickly, a quick run through of her lines as she dabs her make-up on in the mirror. She tries to push thoughts of Puck and the run-in out of her mind; she needs to be in character by the time the curtain rises. The night goes flawlessly, and her performance earns her a standing ovation. She takes a moment to breathe it all in, and she glances in the corner; Puck shows, to her surprise, clapping hardest of them all.
They have dinner together, finishing a significant amount of wine between them. Drunk on the reunion, they dance together amongst the water fountains of Columbus Circle, and her head is on his shoulder; maybe loneliness isn't the road best traveled. Neither of them is surprised when he wakes up lazily next to her; it's as if this has been a long time coming for the pair. It's a wonderful feeling waking up with him; the missing piece of the puzzle has arrived home to her, a piece she didn't realize was missing all along. It's not the great sex, she thought. She has had good, great sex before. She has even dated some of these men. There's something deeper going on here, something she has ignored all this time.
She doesn't ask him how long he will be staying with her and he never brings up the topic of leaving. They dance around the topic, careful to tiptoe around something that could come to be real. He holds her hand in Central Park, the scent of the grass surrounding them, and she thinks she would give up everything for this one moment.
He leaves back to California on a cloudy day, and she calls on her acting skills to hide the disappointment in her eyes. It's just the weather, she explained. She's never been fond of the clouds. She's grown used to his presence in her apartment, his smell taunting her every which she turns. She doesn't escort him to the airport, and he walks out her door. She doesn't watch him leave, turning at the last second so her last image wouldn't be of this. It's a couples thing to do, she rationalizes to herself, and we're not a couple. We were something for several weeks, a minor something, and now the something is over.
She lays on the floor, her hair splayed around, and she stares at the ceiling. She doesn't sleep the first night he is gone, laying on the floor counting the tiles above. Rachel wills herself to her performance, and puts on a wonderful show, even when her heart aches.
They keep in touch the second time around. He sends her flowers, and she sends him shirts, but it's not a fair trade off to be separated by 3000 miles. Her heart beats in a miserable kind of way, and she closes out every show to a standing ovation but that's no longer enough to hide the throbbing feeling. She misses him something fierce.
She wakes up every morning, covered in sticky skin from the summer heat. She stretches out in front of the sun, the beams clouding her vision. She goes to bed long after the same sun has set, and everything in between is colored with his absence. She stands on her terrace one evening, a glass of wine in her hand and she sips gradually. She sees the bright lights in the distance, obscuring her vision of the moon. This is the life she has always wanted, bright lights and big city; she has everything. She stands there for a long time, long after the bottle has finished, and she wonders why her reality doesn't fall in line with her fantasies.
She catches the red eye to California after half a year has gone by, her heart overruling her head. She thinks back to high school, how she missed everything back then for a relationship that barely lasted past graduation. She could have been with Puck all these years, building a future together. She can't help but wonder if it's too late for them; not all relationships can survive the strain of distance on a relationship. She taps her foot nervously, a wry smile on her face.
Rachel buckles herself in before she can change her mind.
She looks for him all over the house, circling the property several times. She finds him in a secluded area of the house, hidden off by the palm trees. He's tracing his finger over a glass of wine, and she memorizes the image to memory.
"Hi," Rachel whispered. He turns around, and all the blood rushes out of her head. She sees him, and something inside her stops. This, this is what she has been missing, what she flew out here for.
"Hi," Puck said back. "You've come a long way for a visit, Berry."
She smiles, shrugging. "You know me, I'm cautious."
He doesn't say anything, and she is the first one to speak when the silence becomes too much.
"I didn't know it then, I didn't know," she starts to say, stopping nervously. She takes a deep breath, designed to steady her words, and possess proper thought when she speaks again. But suddenly, she's taking, and the words come out a jumbled blur to her ears. One of the most significant moments in her life, and she didn't even rehearse. "I didn't know that you were the one for me, but you knew, and you've always known, and you were under my nose the entire time. I thought it was Jesse, and I was wrong, it's you. I think a part of me always knew, but I've been too scared to admit it but I'm here, I'm here now."
"I'm glad you came," he whispered into her ear.
She hugs him back, her head on his chest, his hand on her hair. She doesn't know if they'll make it to the end, nobody ever knows, but they're here together now; that's the only thing that matters now. These things, the rest of the little details, have a way of working themselves out.