Ruined

She decides to go and see him after they fail to place in the top ten at Nationals and school has finished for summer break. Finn tries and tells her not to, tries to control her, but then she warns him that she simply just won't be controlled by a man, and she can do want she wants, and he falls silent. He doesn't fight her decision; he loves her too much for that. He may not like it, but Jesse and she have history. It may be twisted and confusing, but it is history. Isn't it all twisted and confusing?

He's renting an apartment on Hope (ironic, huh?) Street amongst all the small speciality stores; she went there for the first time after Junior Prom, Quinn's slap still red on her face, and they made out on his bed with his soft, blue sheets and jazz music playing in the background. She felt embarrassed when she had to leave early; like she was just a child slipping into her mother's elaborate evening gowns and spritzing herself with perfume for a delicious moment of pretence. She makes her way there one afternoon, her blue dress loose around her knees, and her fringe pinned away from the destructive wind. She can't make up her mind whether her visit is to say sorry, or to simply see him. She really doesn't know how her heart has made such a massive choice between Finn and Jesse, all she knows is that she loves them both. She really shouldn't, she needs to commit herself fully to Finn, and it's completely cliché to be in love with two people and she usually scoffs when she hears about other people who are, but because it is her and it is Finn and it is Jesse, it is different. She cannot picture her life without them because in all honesty they have both taught her so much.

His apartment is on the fourth floor. The elevator is broken (isn't it always?) and so she is panting when she finally reaches his door. She smiles at the crooked, tarnished bronze C and recalls when she smacked her head against it when leaving one night with a soft laugh, before raising her hand to the door and knocking. The seconds tick by as she waits for him to answer, and it feels like the world has stopped spinning upon its axis. Sure, her heart thumps, blood pumps its way around her body and she breathes in and out rhythmically, but nothing moves. There is no sound, no faint ringing in her ears.

Just quiet.

Until he pulls open the door.

"I suppose I have to invite you in," he grumbles, running a hand through his hair and shrugging. There is sheet music in his hand, he slips into his pocket when he notices her gaze, and steps away from the door. "Excuse the mess," he tells her, as she steps through the doorway, her flats clacking on the hard wood floor.

"You look like shit," she tells him bluntly, placing her bag down on the messy table and leaning against a kitchen cabinet that has been painted bold blue to hide the numerous scratches upon its surface.

He shakes his head. "I would say the same to you, but then again Rachel, when do you ever look like crap? Perfect, perfect, perfect." He smirks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She takes a moment to gaze around the apartment. Gone is the cleared surface of his bedside table that she delighted in decorating with photos and trinkets, it has been replaced with empty takeaway containers emitting a horrible odour and dirty clothing has been draped over the lampshade she picked out and bought for his home warming gift. There is a burnt smell lingering around the cramped apartment. The whole apartment is littered with mess and dirty clothing, the only clean surface is his blank grand piano, the piano that they played together one afternoon. Jesse himself looks horrible, but she doesn't really mind his dishevelled appearance.

"If you're going to stare," he says softly, "I might have to start charging a fare. I'm not an animal at the zoo that you can curiously ponder about while never showing any affection towards it."

She laughs softly at the silly rhyme, shaking her head and stepping towards him. Strands of her fringe escape the black bobby pins as the wind rustled through the single open window, and she quickly tucks them back in. "What happened Jesse? What happened to you? What happened to us?"

As soon as the words have escaped her mouth, she regrets ever uttering them. Of course she knows what happened, she broke his heart. She did this to him. She stopped wanting to pretend she was ready for Jesse, ready to be an adult, and Finn was right there waiting with open arms. It was comfortable, so she slipped right back into the easy pattern with him. There were no challenges, no complications. They don't fight like she and Jesse did, they never scream at each other over simple things. It is all happy, happy, happy days with Finn.

He just looks at her, his gaze blank until she sighs.

"I don't know why I came here," she admits, gnawing upon her lower lip. "Finn tried to stop me, but I wanted to come."

"It wasn't to gawk at the man you ruined?" he questions, seating himself at his piano and thumbing his fingers over the clean ivory keys. He plays the piano like an angel, and she always delights in seeing the utter and pure joy that emits itself on his face when he plays. He pauses for a moment, and looks up at her, wrinkles appearing between his eyebrows and a stray curl flopped over his forehead. "This visit had a purpose?"

"Don't be so defensive. You did worse to me last year, remember?" She knows her tone is angry, but she can't help it. There is just something about him that sets her off, and she can't stop it.

"And I regretted it every day. I wallowed in misery, knowing that I had caused the pain that was consuming you. Something tells me that you won't feel remorseful, hell you probably haven't felt remorseful, when you snuggle up to Finn and be with him. It is a sort of payback, isn't it, for what I did to you last year. You just wanted to hurt me just as much as I hurt you. You won't care that you broke my heart, you won't care that I am barely living, hell you won't bat an eyelash when you hear of my passing."

Outraged, she splutters wordlessly for a moment, before glaring at him. "Of course I would care Jesse. Don't make this a pity party. I love you, I mean I loved you." She sighs softly, dropping into a chair.

He arches an eyebrow, pinching his lips so his face turns drawn. "Which tense is it Rachel, past or present? You can't love two men at the same time, you can pretend that your life is a musical. Nothing will be solved by denying anything. You have to decide."

She thought that she had this all figured out. Everything was grand, everything was good. Finn loved her, and she could wait to talk about her Broadway dreams. She could keep lying to herself about the fact that he wouldn't move away from Lima. She would just have to cross that bridge when she eventually came upon it. Why had she decided to come and see Jesse? Why had she tempted herself with everything that he represented once again? She knew that she would crumble, she always crumbled.

"I don't want to decide!" she exclaims, her eyes wide and her hands scrunched into fists. "I don't want to give anyone up, I don't want to not love you anymore! I want both of you, I want both futures. I want to be with Finn and be happy in Lima, but I can't. I want to be in New York and be happy with you, but I can't. I can't do anything about it! I didn't want to break your heart, but I did and I can't go back and change my decisions. I have to live with them, and I don't want to!"

He eases himself up off the piano and walks over to her, crouching. "Rachel you don't have to make all those decisions now. You're seventeen! You have the rest of your life to fret over these things."

She rolls her eyes, and scoffs softly at him, shaking her head.

"I mean it," he tells her, sweeping away the stray brown hairs of fringe that have fallen out of her bobby pin and she hasn't bothered to touch. She shivers at his touch, but just bites her lower lip and looks at him.

"And I didn't mean to hurt you, but I did. Words really don't mean much anymore, do they?"

"They do when the right intent, the right feeling, is behind them," he murmurs, standing up and brushing lint off of his jeans, sighing forlornly. "People make mistakes, but they say sorry. And that word, that one single word, is generally accepted as an adequate apology and everything is forgiven. And even though sorry can be used out of context sometimes, people still accept it and use it frequently. That just shows that when the right intent is behind a word or a phrase, it really does mean something."

She crinkles her nose slightly, laughing.

"What is so funny?" he questions, dragging over a tattered old chair to her armchair and sitting down upon it.

"The fact that I came here just to see you for some silly reason, and upon seeing you I immediately wanted to fix you, and you've managed to completely turn that around," she explains, smiling softly as she eases herself out of the chair, and smoothing down her dress.

"I don't need looking after," he murmurs, shaking his head. "I'm a big boy, and in a way I deserved to be ruined. I was too proud, too cocky." He shrugs softly, as if he is trying to shrug everything away. But he can't, he can't deny this. There is a million thoughts weighing upon his mind right now, and he cannot just shrug them away. He has to deal with them, just like she has to deal with her own. It is no use to pretend any different.

"I wasn't suggesting that," she tells him softly, gently, as if she is trying to cocke a wild animal to her by holding out food in her palm.

Silence falls between them for a few heartbeats, before Jesse breaks it by exhaling loudly.

She can't think of what to say next, a million thoughts run through her head but none seem right. There is no guidebook, no rules, of what to say to your ex-boyfriend and the man you still loved secretly when you went to visit him. She didn't even know what she was visiting him for after all, so how could she know what to say? This is all new, and like a frightened child, she longs to run away and hide until it is safe to come out.

But then Jesse says the thing that has been weighing between them since the night of Nationals. Hell, it's been on her mind since he broke her heart for the first time the start of last summer.

"Don't you love me?" he questions, his eyes wide and inquisitive. His footsteps are loud on the floor as he walks towards her, and she stares at him silently. She sighs, dropping her gaze to the floor and counting the scratches in the floorboards silently as she thinks. The sound of his heavy, shallow breathing fills her ears; her hearts thumps loudly in her chest.

Exhaling, she looks back up, locking eyes with him. "Of course I do," she says softly, gnawing on her bottom lip. His face remains stony, he is an Adonis frozen in heartbreak, heartbreak that she caused. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault.

"Then be with me," he says. His eyes search hers wildly, searching for any sort of reaction, any sort of emotion. "No one can make you happier Rachel. I know that I have hurt you in the past, but I love you. You're all I think about, from the moment I wake up to the moment I finally fall asleep. I cannot go through a single frigging day without thinking about you, and it is killing me. It's consuming me, and I can't stop it. I don't want to stop it." He sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly with the palms of his hands. She studies his nails, noting the chipped thumbnail on his right thumb, and the ink staining the skin around his left pointer finger, before shaking her head roughly, sending her fringe loose. The bobby pin rattles as it hits the floor, but she doesn't bother to pick it up, just sweeps her fringe across her forehead. It settles against her skin softly, and just the sensation of it comforts her. She shouldn't be thinking like this, she shouldn't be studying his face, his emotions, his reactions, the way the muscles in his lower arms tense when he is stressed. It's not like she won't see him again, she will, she will.

But that doesn't stop the words, "I can't" from exploding out of her mouth like a gunshot on a still day. His palms snap away from his eyes at the sound of her voice, and he releases a tired puff of air, shrugging.

"I can't change your mind," he tells herself whilst walking away. She watches him pour himself a glass of water, his fingers tight on the tap. "I would offer you one," he says slowly before drinking, "but I want you to leave."

She nods softly, even though she knows that he cannot see the action, and turns around, smoothing down her dress once more.

"I won't bother you anymore," she murmurs emotionally, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. I wish I could take it away, because I know how much it hurts." Her fingers rest upon the doorknob, and stifling a sob, she opens the door, wincing as it creaks loudly in the sad silence. Her flats clack down, down, down the steps, and the wind is icy on her face as she steps out of the apartment block. A storm is approaching, and her eyes are mesmerised by the grey clouds looming for a moment. She can't stifle the sobs in her throat, and leans against the nearest wall, burying her face in her arms, her body shaking with emotion.

What is wrong with her?

Finn or Jesse? Jesse or Finn?

Heartbreak or blissful ignorance?

It isn't such a hard question when you think about it, it is only when she tries to answer it in real life that the problems start. She can't decide when she is with either of them. She's tried the Pro's and Con's list, she tried everything. Nothing works, nothing can make her decide. She wants both, and like a greedy child, she refuses to recognise that she cannot possible have both.

Footsteps sound down the cement pavement, and she hurriedly wipes her eyes and cheeks, sniffling.

"You forgot your purse," Jesse says softly, handing it to her. The strap feels slippery in her hand, and she slips it over her shoulder softly, forcing a weak smile.

"Thank you."

She is trying to think of what to say next when he begins to walk away, and she cannot summon the strength, the courage, to call out to him. She just lets him walk away, and watches him for the last time. Her eyes take everything in, hair whipping wildly around her face. He is right, he is always right. Life isn't like a musical, and he won't chase after her, he won't tempt himself with false hope.

Resigned to the fate that he won't play the part she wants him to so desperately, she begins to walk away as well, her flats clacking softly against the sound of thunder. The rain begins to fall just as she reaches an alcove, and rummaging in her bag she searches for an umbrella, blinking away hot, salty tears. The strands of her fringe are plastered against her forehead as she leans against a case hosting a bold movie advertisement, a beautiful girl on the front, slipping the strap of her bag off shoulder and kneeling down to search through her bag more thoroughly.

She pulls out a note in confusion, eyes wide and her white teeth gnawing on her lower lip.

Her fingers tremble as she pulls the slightly wet paper apart, standing up slowly in order to read it. Her dress flaps around her knees as her eyes scan the paper, but she cannot be bother to fix it.

Romeo and Juliet never had a happy ending, and I suppose it will be the same with us. I can't wait another forever Rachel, and you can't make a decision. We will just have to live with the choices we have made, we can't fix them. But, to tell you the truth, I will always love you. I just will, and I can't change that, just like you can't change the fact that you love Finn. I can't change that.

I'll miss you.

Jesse.

Sobs explode from her throat, and she collapses to the cement path of the alcove, the note crumpled in her hands. She shakes softly, but doesn't know whether it is from cold or emotion? The tears run down her cheeks as fast as she can squeeze them from her tired eyes, and she just longs to be warm again. She just wants to forget everything, she just wants to be happy for once.

She wants him.

But she's ruined that chance now.

Ruined, ruined, ruined.