The audacity.
He stood in her doorway with an apologetic look on his face holding a bouquet of red roses. It was cliché, but they were her favorite flowers. She had always imagined adoring fans throwing them at her on stage after a rousing medley of classic Barbra Streisand songs in a sold out performance where she was the center of it all. They would wait for her at the stage door, extolling her and her amazing performance and she would be a Star, shining so brightly that nothing could keep her down, not Santana's biting comments, not Finn's painful indifference…not even Jesse's cruel actions.
"What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear that you were never to contact me again." Her tone was firm, sharp. She would not allow her pain or anger to seep through, to expose vulnerability.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry isn't enough," she snapped. "What you did… What you did was horrible. How am I supposed to forgive you? But that's beside the point. It's better this way. I am simply going to channel my anger into writing a soul-bearing ballad that will surely allow me to conquer the Lima music industry and launch me to Broadway. And you will be nothing."
"Rachel-"
"No. Get out."
"Rachel, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're right. There aren't enough times I can say it, but you have to know that I mean it. I never meant to break your trophy. I know how much it meant to you."
"Do you know how long it took me to perfect the pirouette that won me the title of Best Singer-Dancer Under The Age Of 18 In The State Of Ohio? You clearly have no respect for the work I put into perfecting my craft and—"
He kissed her. And she finally shut up.
"My favorite drama queen," he murmured, tilting her head towards him. "You don't need a trophy to prove you're the best. You are the best."
"You still owe me."
He smirked and slowly walked them over to her bed. "You're right. I suppose I'll have to spend a lot of time making it up to you."
"Yes. You will."
