Sidewalks of New York. You never know who you'll meet when you don't watch where you're going.
Many thanks to Ryan Murphy and Company for "Glee" and the characters who live in that special universe. That belongs to them; this particular spin on the future, to me.
For your entertainment, a brief one-shot to tide you over until my next (awesome ;-)) multi-chapter is published. Reviews are always welcome…hope you enjoy!
The following encounter takes place a few years down the road…
Rachel Berry walked briskly through Greenwich Village as she made her way toward the NYU campus; specifically, the Frederick Loewe Theater, where rehearsals were underway for "The Boy Friend". She had been awarded the lead role of "Polly Browne" and considered it a fitting end to her college performing career. She had already hired an agent and was considering her next career move much more professionally than when she egotistically auditioned for "Funny Girl" that first year in New York.
She had just picked up a chai latte and wasn't looking where she was going, bumping headfirst into an unsuspecting pedestrian. As luck would have it, the lid popped off the beverage, which sloshed around in the cup before spewing out onto both Rachel and her unfortunate victim.
"Geez, lady, why don't ya' watch where you're going," an agitated male voice bellowed.
Rachel's head whipped up, and she called out "Noah?"
He looked down, puzzled, responding, "Berry?"
"Oh, my gosh, Noah, I'm so sorry," Rachel apologized.
"That's OK, Rach; no harm, no foul," he replied, his scowl instantly replaced by a smile.
"Noah, what are you doing here? How's Quinn?" Rachel inquired, her words rushed as she attempted to gather her composure while she searched for a tissue to dab off the remaining liquid from their jackets.
"Well, to answer your first question, going to school. I was discharged from the Air Force about six months ago and decided to give college a shot." He paused, rolled his eyes, and continued, "As for the second question, I have no idea. About three months after we got together, she sent me a 'Dear John' text; seems Yale has more than its share of rich pretty-boys who don't have the added baggage of not being Christian." He smiled, a bit ruefully perhaps, before admitting, "In retrospect, and yes, I do know what that means…" Rachel grinned at his admission as he continued speaking, "I'm a hell of a lot better off. That woman is flakier than a box of cereal."
He looked down at her, eyes meeting, and he softly inquired, "How about you, Rach? I thought you'd be making Broadway your bitch by now."
Rachel sighed, smiled, and admitted, "This may take a minute. Do you have the time?"
He glanced at his watch, noticing that he was almost late for class. However, this was too surreal, and he was intensely curious, not having heard word one since that last day at McKinley. "Sure, Rach, for you, always," he admitted, giving her a slow smile, which she returned, motioning to a nearby bench.
They sat down and he looked at her curiously, prompting her, "So…"
Rachel exhaled, beginning, "Well, first off, I dropped out of NYADA. I was full of myself, and I thought they were 'stifling my creativity' and not giving me the credit that I was due as a 'rising star'." She took a sip of what was left of her beverage, pausing briefly before continuing. "'Funny Girl' was pretty much a disaster; I got pretty good reviews, all things considered, but the show crashed and burned relatively quickly. Within three months, I was a college dropout with one failed Broadway show behind me."
"What happened then, Rach?" he gently prodded.
"I felt like a colossal idiot and a third wheel in what had become Kurt and Blaine's little 'love nest', with a revolving door to McKinley's 'let's give New York a try' club." She paused, taking another drink. She looked into his eyes, smiled gently, and went on, "Well, my dads told me to come home and apply to OSU, reevaluate my goals; you know, gave me the 'wise parental speech' and all. I told them 'no', that I was determined to make a life here and, as you put it 'make Broadway my bitch'."
Noah chuckled at Rachel's use of an expletive, commenting, "I see New York has taught you a few new words."
She smiled, confirming, "If I chose to, I could make a sailor blush; however, I prefer not to."
Noah thought of Rachel swearing, and found it both amusing and…hot…
"In any case," she continued, "they told me if I wanted to stay here, I needed to get a job to help support myself and get into another school. And, this time, they insisted I was not to audition for any professional shows until I was ready to graduate with my BFA. They told me that if I agreed to their terms, they would continue to subsidize my education and assist with rent and utilities."
"What did you do, Rach?" Noah inquired, growing more curious by the minute. He was enjoying watching Rachel; clearly, she had acquired significant maturity since she was that broken little girl, mourning the death of her high school boyfriend, and consumed with stardom. And…he was finding that added maturity extremely becoming on her…
"Well, the first thing I did was get a job at Macy's. Initially it was full time, but they let me cut back to part time once I started up with school. Kurt…that is, we… have this friend, Elliot, who sang with Kurt's band at that time, 'Pamela Lansbury'."
Noah broke out laughing, commenting, "Who the hell came up with that one?"
Rachel shrugged her shoulders, continuing, "I can't recall any more, and it doesn't really matter, anyway. In any case, Elliot was a junior at NYU, and he introduced me to his advisor. In the interest of brevity, I'll 'cut to the chase': I camped out on his sofa for a couple of months until I found my own apartment. It's an efficiency; you know, one room with a bathroom, but, it's home. I applied at Tisch, basically repeated my freshman year, and here we are. I love NYU; I'm getting a much better education, and I haven't had to deal with any passive/aggressive instructors like Cassie July. I'm currently starring in our production of 'The Boy Friend', which is where I was headed when we collided."
She paused, helped herself to another sip, and looked inquisitively at Noah. "Enough about me; how was your time in the Air Force, Noah?"
He cocked his left eyebrow and smiled thoughtfully before beginning. "I think it was something I needed to do, Rach. It gave me structure and discipline…lots of discipline…made me face some of my fears, and I finally grew up." Their eyes met, and both smiled. Rachel averted her eyes, blushing lightly; Noah chuckled, continuing, "I decided to give music a real shot; not performing, but writing and producing. Between the GI Bill, student loans, and a small scholarship, I enrolled as a freshman at Steinhardt. I still play at 'open mike nights', but that's more for fun than anything else."
"I'd love to hear you play sometime, Noah," Rachel admitted, wistfully adding "I've missed hearing you sing."
Noah was encouraged by her admission, replying, "As luck would have it, I'm playing this weekend; give me your number, and I'll text you the information." They exchanged phones, entering their respective phone numbers into the other's directories.
Rachel mentioned, "I'll have to bring Kurt and Blaine. Kurt will absolutely freak out when he finds out you're here"
Noah laughed, thinking to himself "some things never change…"
Rachel glanced at her watch, remarking, "Oh, my gosh, I've really got to run. I have a rehearsal in about 10 minutes. Where were you heading, Noah?" she inquired, looking up at him, the barest hint of flirtation in her voice.
"As luck would have it, same direction as you, Rach," he confirmed. Truth be told, the theater was a little out of his way, and he knew he would be late for class. However, finding Rachel in New York…totally worth it. They stood up simultaneously, he offered the crook of his arm, and Rachel took it, looking up at him as if seeing him clearly for the first time and finding herself quite taken with what she saw.
As they headed toward the theater, Rachel sighed lightly, confessing, "I'm glad you're here, Noah. I've missed you." She gently leaned into him, and Noah's heart did a little back flip in his chest.
He smiled tenderly, admitting, "So have I, Rach; so have I."