Hey Gleeks! A note before reading the actual story.
First off, thank you for anyone who will read my story. I hope this story makes you a little teary eyed :D
Second, this story was made to sort of move on from Cory. As a big fan of Glee, Cory's death was so crushing. I've been meaning to write this since last year as a way of keeping him in my heart but also to move on, but I never got back to it...until a few days ago when I remembered Cory's 1 year anniversary of his death. And I knew it would be nice to write something for Cory.
So this is to Cory and the rest of the Glee cast, for all they've done to inspire us and keep our hearts open.
"Thank you guys. Thank you. I just wanted to be here today to personally thank all of you and tell everyone out there how much all of your love and support has meant to me over these very past difficult few weeks. Thank you. Not that I had any doubt before, but you guys are most certainly the greatest fans in the world. And I wanted to dedicate this award to Cory. For all of you out there who loved and admired Cory as much as I did, I promise that with your love we're gonna get through this together. He was very special to me, and also to the world. And we were very lucky to witness his incredible talent, his handsome smile, and his beautiful, beautiful heart. So whether you knew him personally, or just as Finn Hudson, Cory reached out, and he became a part of all of our hearts, and that's where he'll stay forever, so thank you guys so much. Thank you." – Lea Michelle's acceptance speech for the Teen Choice Awards 2013
I should be happy, right? I got my dream star role of Fanny Brice on Broadway's new hit production Funny Girl. I won the lead role in a new TV show which would hit off after my run on Funny Girl. I had won an Oscar for my fantastic vocals and my superb acting skills on Broadway.
What more could a Lima girl want?
"One minute, Miss Berry!"
The fog that had blurred my reality disappeared as I rose from my chair in full Fanny Brice costume. I reached over and grabbed my brunette wig, adjusting it in the mirror. With a final check of my appearance, I turned on my heels and exited my dressing room.
"Thirty seconds!"
The clank of my heels was drowned out by the barks of the production crew. Though it was months ago since my first show, they were still on edge with making each and every show flawless. Faceless crew members rushed back and forth across the backstage, adjusting the light settings, arming themselves with the crank to pull up the curtains. A tall, slender lady rushed over to me and placed a miniature microphone on my black dress, fixing it so it would go unnoticed by myself and the audience.
"Places everyone!"
I galloped onto the stage behind the velvet silk curtains and took my place center stage. The backdrops were dim in the darkness behind the curtains. I listened to countdown and the panic of the crew members to get everything in place.
"In five, four, three, two, one."
The curtains were pulled to the sides of the stage, revealing the audience to my eyes. I stared at the faces of thousands of people who came to watch me perform. The hot glaring spotlight struck down on my body, giving me the attention I've always wanted. All eyes were definitely on me.
The music began to play, the familiar tune that I've heard backwards and forwards, inside and out. I took a deep breath and listened for the one note that indicated my cue. I knew this song by heart, every word, every syllable, every note, every beat.
Three, two, one. I opened my mouth and unleashed the voice the crowd has been awaiting. My strong vocals radiated throughout the theatre, sending sound vibrations into every pair of ears that are within distance. I witnessed straight faces curve into faces of happiness and excitement, anticipation and exhilaration.
The feelings of the audience connected with mine. I felt their happiness, excitement, anticipation, and exhilaration. I wanted to bring them the feelings Barbra Streisand had done to me when I had first watched Funny Girl, and the feelings I had watching Funny Girl a dozen times over again after. I wanted them to shed tears from my performance, swoon over the romance between Fanny and Julius Arnstein. As I sang my personal favorite Don't Rain on My Parade, I watched as the audience stood up row by row to give me a glorious standing ovation I had dreamed of for all of my life.
By the end of the performance, I was worn down. The applause of the crowd became only a noise in the distance as the cast and I took our bows and the curtains slowly fell, touching the cool ground.
Just like that, my performance was over. And I was left with an unidentified feeling in the pit of my stomach.
For the last few performances prior to this one, I've been feeling this strange feeling pile up in my stomach, something that wasn't physical but emotional. It was hard not to wonder what the feeling was. It was oddly familiar, like a past memory long forgotten through time and somehow managed to crawl back up from the depths of my mind, and then the memory would sink back, hiding out in the crevasses made in my brain.
I pushed the feeling off for as long as I could. Not wanting to cause any unnecessary scenes, I scampered from the stage and towards my dressing room. But to my dismay, the press was lined up against the hall, trying to catch a glimpse of me. They stared at me like a puppy wanting a treat. Their cameras were poised for action as I came up their way.
Plastering a smile, I waved at them and gave them my best Rachel Berry pose. Flash blinded my eyes. All I could hear was the clicking of the buttons as the endless press snapped photos of me in costume.
Rachel Berry! Rachel Berry! Look over here! Pose for me! Can we get an interview with you? What are you feeling now with your 50th performance? Are you dating anyone? Have you moved on yet? What are your plans for the future? Are you leaving Broadway for TV show fame?
"Sorry, no interviews today," I politely responded to the aggressive attack of questions. The press didn't listen. They continued to pound question and after question at me, not giving me the chance to even respond. Microphones were poking at my face and the flash of the camera darkened the room. The press piled into my personal bubble, gaining entrance into the small circle I had around me. I was about to snap when a beefy-looking guy tore through the wall.
"Sorry folks, only pictures this time. Miss Rachel Berry doesn't want to do interviews today." I regained my eyesight back in time to watch as the press, disappointed and angry, started to leave. My bodyguard stood by my side until they had all receded to the exit.
"It's okay to go to your dressing room now, Miss Rachel Berry." I thanked him graciously and hustled to my dressing room before any press can sneak their way through security again.
I closed and locked the door to my dressing room. Slowly I leaned against the wooden door. My exposed back from my final dress change exchanged heat with the freezing door. My legs lost all control. I fell to my knees, only staring at the legs of my chair.
I couldn't figure out what I was feeling even as I sat on the ground staring emptily at what's in front of me. The feeling grew strong with each passing second, a stabbing sensation that hit my soul but not my real body. Crying was not an option, not until I wiped away the mascara that would run down my eyes and possibly ruin my dress.
I rose from my broken state and managed to remove my wig and dress and replace it with a more comfortable dress. The heels flung off my feet and were mindlessly replaced with flats. In my personal bathroom, I swiftly washed off my makeup and applied natural pink lipstick.
The feeling returned and soon I was sulking to my seat in front of my dresser, in emotional pain and confusion. My reflection stared back at me with a blank expression. I noticed my facial features: my big nose that I had almost had a nose job on, my lips looking as natural as it can be with lipstick, my eyes with mascara highlighting my long eyelashes. I stared into my brown eyes, searching for the answer to my pain.
Just as I was about to snap out of my daze, my eyes land on a photo buried under a bouquet of flowers and my makeup bag. It was barely visible under the small peek-hole made between the bouquet and the bag, but I spotted it like a difficult item in a page of I Spy. I moved the bouquet and bag out of the way and held the photo between my fingers.
It was an old photograph used from an ancient camera back when I had bought it in an antique store. I had a broad smile, wearing my favorite summer dress, and held a familiar guy in my arms. He wore his varsity football jersey, and I remembered I had once slipped on his jersey as he held me close.
He had this smile that made my heart flutter. I haven't felt like that in a while. His eyes showed the love and tenderness his actions made. The pain struck harder than it ever had before.
I remembered that moment like the photo was taken minutes ago. I was at the park with my then-boyfriend Finn Hudson. We were having a picnic, a little surprise made from Finn. He wasn't great at cooking and he knew it, so he made us peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a side of chocolate covered strawberries.
We sat under a giant oak tree and talked about everything and nothing. He held my hand and told me how special I was to him and that we were meant to be.
I know it sounds weird, he had said, but I believe in fate. Fate had us come together on stage alone at our first picnic and brought us together by a kiss. It made me realized how much I loved you, not Quinn, and that I wanted to be with you. I look back on that day and thank fate for stepping in and bringing us together. Without you, I don't know where I would be.
That's not true, I had responded. Without me, you could still be a football star on your way to a good college being the star quarterback.
But without you, he continued, I wouldn't be the man sitting next to you. I wouldn't be the same person you changed me to be, the better man that knows how to love someone like you and who knows how to be confident in himself. You are my star, Rachel Berry.
With that, we kissed gently, something you'd see from a movie reel on a romantic comedy. We cuddled under the tree and watched as the swans moved gracefully across the lake.
It was the spring of senior year, months before I would be sent off to New York City to pursue my career as a rising Broadway actress and before Finn would enlist in the army, kicked off, and backpacked across peaks.
This was before the unexpected happened. The tragedy that set off ticking time bombs throughout the glee club and its members.
During my freshman year in college, Finn went back to McKinley High School to help Schuester with his glee club. While I was living my dream under the guidance of NYADA, a performing arts college, Finn was trying to understand what he wanted to do with his life. He ended up taking on college life to become a teacher. At the same time, we were still figuring out our feelings for each other. I got together with Brody, a junior at NYADA, and later broke up with him after Finn and Santana helped me realize that Brody's taken up the side occupation of being a gigolo.
After my break up with Brody, I held off of dating for a while to piece together my feelings for Finn and to understand what I wanted to do and be. Finn clearly still loved me but I wasn't sure if I felt the same way. Months after my break up I finally realized that I loved and still love Finn. I was going to rekindle our relationship.
I had it all planned out. I would continue on Broadway while he would go to college and become a teacher at McKinley. We would reunite and after I had retired or pursued my music career, I would settle down with Finn in a nice home and we would live happily ever after.
Rachel, he would say as we reunite. I would walk towards him shyly as he dropped his pencil, rise from his office chair, and embrace me in a warm hug. I would take him in, holding him tightly, smelling his deodorant through his button up shirt.
I'm home, I would say, clutching onto his warm body, not wanting to let go.
I can't believe you're here. Sit, let's talk.
We would sit in his classroom and talk about our past, present, and future. I would gaze around his classroom and see the names of his students, the future generation leaders molded from the kindest man I know. He would look me in the eye and confess his undying love for me, and I would do the same.
I've always loved you even when we parted ways years ago.
The photo slipped from my fingers and dropped on top of the bouquet. Just as quickly as the photo had slipped, Finn had slipped away from my fingers as well.
The dream I once had for Finn and I vanished from my distracted mind and another memory was brought up. That day.
He was driving to his apartment he had started living in to gain some independence from his family. The police had told me it was late at night and the street lights were pretty dim. He was turning left on a street when a speeding black truck tried to cut in front of Finn. But instead, the worst had happened, and Finn's car was hit brutally.
Glass shattered, smoke emitted from the truck that was decently damaged. The driver was knocked unconscious with some major injuries.
The same couldn't be said for Finn. His car was hit with enough force that it flipped numerous times on its side. Each flip compacted the space in the car as well as destroying the car, leaving sharp edges from glass and broken parts.
At the time, I was sitting in my apartment with Kurt, watching a rerun of another Broadway film. Santana was out in New York, getting as far away from our musical fanatic. We were in such a good mood, it felt like nothing would ruin our moods.
Kurt's phone started to buzz and he checked his phone. "It's Dad. I'll be right back, I have to take this." Kurt got up and left to his room.
Minutes passed as I waiting for Kurt to return. I should've known something was up when I didn't hear Kurt laughing and babbling on about his life in NYADA like he typically did. It seemed too quite in the apartment, aside from the TV spouting out music.
Waiting for him felt interminable. I was growing restless for his return, so I stood up and poured myself a glass of wine. I don't typically indulge myself in wine, but something in me was expecting something bad to happen. I sat back down with my glass of wine. I swirled the glass and watched the purple liquid shift.
Kurt returned and just as I thought, something was up. "What happened?" He didn't respond. His eyes were puffy and pink and his cheeks were stained with tears. "Kurt," I repeated, setting my glass of wine on the coffee table. "What happened?"
The next words that came out of his mouth were something I wasn't prepared for. "Finn is dead."
My heart stopped in its race. My stomach's hidden butterflies morphed into a monster scratching against my sides. I was being held underwater by my own fears and sadness.
I tried to speak but nothing would come out. I felt tears stream down my face and my hand lift to cover my mouth. I tried again, this time only three words could come out. "Oh my God."
He paused the movie and turned off the musical. For a few minutes, Kurt and I huddled together, each trying to resist crying for the other's sanity. I would feel Kurt sneaking glances at me to check how I was, but I didn't bother to turn his way. I was the first to break. My silent sobs grew louder as Kurt embraced me, comforting the both of us.
When Kurt regained his strength, he called Santana and explained what happened. Santana rushed back to the apartment minutes later, looking like she was crying. From then, things happened slowly. While Kurt and I crawled into our separate beds and cried ourselves to sleep, she stayed up all night and called up every past glee member and told them the news. She took the role of comforting everyone.
When I woke up at eight in the morning, I didn't get up. I didn't have the strength to. To know that I was walking where Finn had once walked at one point or to know that I was breathing while Finn wasn't was too much for me. I laid in fetal position in bed with my bed sheets covering my entire body.
I didn't realize it then but Santana stood to be the strongest amongst everyone during the tragedy. Santana kept her eyes dry while comforting Kurt and I. She made us breakfast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes drenched with syrup, and she went to buy us lattes at Starbucks before we woke up. She dragged us out of our beds and made us watch movie marathons of our favorite musicals to get our minds off of what happened.
A couple of days later, Kurt's dad called again to invite us to Finn's funeral. When Kurt told us the news, he could barely say Finn's name. Santana helped us pack for his funeral and the next day, we departed to our airplane back to Lima, Ohio.
I wiped the tears off my cheeks and the photo, collected my belongings, and headed out for the night. My boss stopped me and congratulated me for another job well done, and I responded with a thank you. I mindlessly made my way to the backstage exit and into the parking lot, searching for my car. I looked amongst the pile of cars belonging to other crew members and spotted my black Toyota Prius.
I unlocked the car door and got inside my car. Rummaging through my pockets, I found my car keys and turned on the ignition. The pain returned and so many emotions ran through my system. I turned off my ignition and sat in my car, letting myself cry again. Why can't I stop crying, I thought. It's been almost a year.
No, how could I forget.
It was July 13th, 2014. Today was July 13th.
"Today we remember a young man of kindness and passion," the preacher had said at the podium. "A son to two, a brother to one, a friend to many."
I sat in the third row of the left side of the church along with my friends from the glee club. Everyone including me was wearing black formal clothes, staring longingly at the preacher. Around me were a sea of sad faces dressed in black. Dozens of bouquet of bright flowers were lined against the white coffin, bringing the smallest beauty to the dark scene. On the side surrounded by flowers was a blown up picture of Finn's graduation picture. He smiled brightly at everyone while wearing his red cap and gown. The words "In Loving Memory of Finn Hudson" were written above the picture. Under the picture was the date of his life "August 24, 1994 – July 18, 2013".
"Today speaking her words about Finn is his mother, Carole Hummel." Finn's mother rose from the first row and made her way to the podium.
"I don't think any mother is ready to come up to the podium and speak at their son or daughter's funerals. No parent has ever had this event cross their mind. It's supposed to be the other way around where they speak at your funeral. But in this case…" she trailed off. She wiped away a few stranded tears before resuming.
"Finn was special. He was a kind soul, caring for everyone he met. He pushed himself to the limit and past the limit at the things he loved like football. I remember when he came back home from his first football try out. He told me how frustrated he was at how he played. He wasn't making the passes as smoothly as he should and he kept fumbling the ball. I said, 'Finn, you need to be confident with yourself. You will make it on that team as long as you keep working hard.' Finn finished his homework earlier than usual that day and headed out to do extra conditioning. He came back home drenched in sweat and when I asked why he had ran that long, he told me 'because I want to be the best on that team. And to be the best, I need to work harder than I have before, pushing myself past the limit.'
"There were plenty of times when Finn doubted himself. People were constantly putting him down for joining the glee club or for his not-so-great dancing." Everyone chuckled, remembering Finn's attempts at dancing before he was taught by Mike and Brittney. "But he never gave up. Sometimes I would see him come home and throw himself in his room, full of frustration. He would tell me how much he wished to prove people wrong about what they said about him. And the next day, he would get back on his feet and try to prove them wrong. He didn't let other people stop him from accomplishing his goals. He let their hurtful words improve who he was so he could become stronger."
Finn's mom carried on, recalling memories about Finn's childhood and the moments she had with him. She ended in a tearful conclusion and left the podium in tears. Finn's step father rose and talked about the few moments he had with him since marrying his mom and adding Kurt to the family. I shuffled in my seat, anxious to get my speech over with. From my right, someone gripped my hand. I turned and saw Kurt smiling at the memories his dad remembered and at the same time crying.
Kurt followed his father's departure. He let go of my hand and walked to the podium. "Finn was my hero. I looked up to him before he was my brother, and I still look up to him even as he left us. He was the person I wanted to be: kind, courageous, confident, strong. Since freshman year, I admired him and wanted to be somewhat like him. When he became my brother, I realized through his teaching that I should be 'me'. I should be kind, courageous, confident, and strong like Finn, but in my own way. I embraced my sexuality. I fought for my way into NYADA. I learned to share kindness and care amongst everyone I meet because of Finn."
Kurt ended his speech briefly and returned to his seat. "Now a word from Rachel Berry." I rose from my seat, flattening any wrinkles on my dress, and made my way to the podium. As I did, I glanced at Finn's body lying in the coffin, and I felt the monsters rise again from the pits of my stomach acid.
"Finn was the world to me. He was the stars and the moon, the planets and the sun. I met him Finn when the glee club had started in my sophomore year of high school. It's funny how they say love at first sight isn't real because when I saw him, I knew he was the one. I couldn't explain it then and I can't explain it now but when I looked at him, I had a feeling that he was the one. And through high school, I managed to get him. In my years of dating him and almost marrying him, I admired him. He was my parachute when I was free falling down thousands of feet. He picked me up whenever people bullied me, even threw slushies at my face.
"Finn didn't treat me like a princess like every girl dreamed of being treated. He treated me like his girlfriend and his best friend. He held me in public without any embarrassment. He told me when I was doing something stupid, and he condemned me for it. He cheered me up when I was sad or disappointed. I remember when I choked during my NYADA audition, he came over to my house and sat for hours comforting me until I couldn't cry anymore. The next day, he came over with a quart of chocolate ice cream and we ate the entire quart while watching some romantic comedy he rented on Netflix.
I looked up from my notecards and finished from my heart. "His compassion towards others, his passion to follow his dreams, everything about him made me fall in love with him, even when we fought or broke up. Finn was the one who taught me so many different life lessons. No wonder he wanted to become a teacher. He taught me to follow my dreams even if that meant leaving a few important things in my life. He taught me to believe in myself even when others didn't. He may not be with us now, but he lives forever in our hearts. Thank you." I stared at my former glee club members and they smiled back. I walked back to my seat and watched the rest of the service without another word.
I wiped the streaming tears from my face and lifted my head from the steering wheel. I looked up at the sky in the direction of my star.
"It's your own star," he told me after handing me a certificate.
"You named a star after me?"
"No, I thought about that but then I named it Finn Hudson, because there is already a star called Rachel Berry and she's right here on earth and she's brighter than any of those stars up there. So I wanted to make sure that whenever she feels lonely, she can look up at the sky and no matter where I am, she can know that I'm looking down on her."
I stared at my star, gazing at its brightness. I knew in my heart Finn was watching over me as my guardian angel.
I miss you so much, Finn. You'll be forever in our hearts my singing quarterback.