A/N: Well here it is. I appreciate constructive criticism, but not haters. Thanks:)
Disclaimer: If my name were Ryan Murphy, things would be very different my friends.
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"His name is Ben."
Those four words were enough to crush Finn Hudson, sending a knife through his heart and ice into his soul. Ben. The rabbi's son. Every Jewish girl's dream. Finn didn't even know the guy, but he hated him already. After that dreadful conversation, he didn't know what he thought about anything.
(Flashback)
"Hey Rach," Finn began with his trademark goofy grin. There was no doubt in his mind of how this conversation would end. Oh, how mistaken he had been. "So, I feel bad about breaking up with you. And, I liked it better when you were around. Sure, you were annoying, bossy, and conceited, but Santana, although super hot, can't make me feel like you did. And I liked feeling important, so I am willing to overlook your obvious flaws in order to date again. So, this is me," (Here he paused dramatically, waiting for a smile to grace her face, one that was obviously overdue. His speech was amazing, and not just because he rehearsed it five times that morning.) "Officially…forgiving you!" He leaned in for a quick kiss, preparing himself for the volcano of love about to explode from his newly reinstated girlfriend.
He waited. After a minute, he heard a soft sigh, and the sound of size 4 ballet flats walking away across the cold, hard linoleum. When he opened his eyes, she was halfway to English. He chased after her (no, he did not miss the irony) and grabbed her forearm before she entered the room.
"What was that all about, huh?" He heard another soft sigh, sounding more defeated than lustful.
"Did you hear anything that you said, Finn? You basically insulted every part of me, while disguising it as endearing with a quick and insincere declaration of love, while I know for a fact you do not harbor any feelings for me whatsoever."
His face fell at this. "Why do you always tear me down, Rachel? You know I'm sensitive!"
What happened next shocked, astounded, and confused the heck out of him. She laughed. At him. To his face. Without even batting an eye, she had left his self esteem in ruins.
"That's rich, Finn. You publicly humiliate me, multiple times, knowing how important public image is to me. You stand by innocently with a grin on your face while Satan, or rather, Santana, insults me to my face, even agreeing with her, not to mention the numerous times you have strung me along. And yet, magically, I am the bad guy?" Her voice grew quieter. Without realizing, they had both begun almost shouting. "Anyway, it doesn't matter to me anymore. I met someone else. Trust me, for the first time this year, it wasn't – will never be – about you. I didn't do it as retribution for you dumping me, or retaliation to said offense. I did it for me." Her expression changed, became happier. "His name is Ben. Ben Greenburg. My rabbi's son. We sat next to each other at Temple, and he asked me out. It's…amazing. So simple and easy. He isn't into performing. He doesn't sing. And, surprisingly, that's okay. More than okay, it's almost preferable. He balances my exuberance out with a quiet perfection and level headedness that is exactly what I need."
His jaw, which had been on the floor for the majority of her rant, snapped up quickly, and he walked away. One question haunted him. Where do we go from here?