Hey guys! So, the last thing I ever thought I'd write is a Spider-Man/Glee crossover fanfiction (I mean seriously, weird combo much?). Yet here we are! This first chapter isn't very exciting, but I promise, it will get better. I'm just trying to blend the two universes and set up the story a bit. I should also note that I haven't seen The Amazing Spider-Man 2 yet, so this takes place after the first one, but a few months after the end of the movie. I've taken the liberty of adding a few characters that didn't make it in the first movie, and have decided to use their comic book personalities (from what I've researched). Please please please read on and review! Even just to tell me to update! Any form of encouragement is much appreciated!
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Aleatory, n.: relying on chance or an uncontrolled element in the details of life or in the creation of art. (via other-wordly on Tumblr)
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Well, this was certainly annoying. How funny it should be that tonight, of all nights, would be the one and only time that Rachel Berry got nervous to perform. Butterflies flickered around in her stomach, and she frowned into her dressing room mirror. She was still in her dressing robes, but at least her Funny Girl wig was on, which was more than she could say for makeup and wardrobe.
Rachel didn't necessarily need people to tell her how great she was (though their love and adoration was very easy for her to accept, and not always modestly). All her life, she never needed validation. It was common knowledge that one day she would end up where she was now: Broadway. No one needed to tell her how she was a supernova of a star whose light could not be contained, whose light would sooner burst into the seams of everyone's hearts when they heard her sing.
But she had been reading those stupid blogs. Ten in every hundred was made in the Broadway blogosphere just to tear her down. While that sounded like a very small amount, when she considered there were hundreds of thousands of blogs, with thousands of comments, she seemed to have established quite the hate club. Her success was quite aleatory, coming down to what the fans thought about her.
A knock came at her door, and it broke open. A pair of light blue eyes that shined brightly smiled back at her.
"Kurt, I don't think I can do this," said Rachel dramatically. She pointed at the white smart phone in her left hand. "A new blog entry was just posted. They're saying really nasty things about my short, stubby legs and giant nose! And my acting, and-"
Kurt Hummel's eyes widened, everything about his face reading, Oh, no, another meltdown, and he shut the dressing room door behind him. He quickly gained his composure and put forward his best supportive friend routine. After all, he seemed to be the only one of her friends that was free often enough to come support her every night. Blaine, Kurt's boyfriend, had his thing with June Dolloway, who was helping him jump start his career, and she took up most of his time. Mercedes and Santana were off making their duet album, and Sam wasn't one to hang out at Broadway musicals alone. "Rachel, come on. Are you kidding me? We've been through this like ten times. Remember opening night? You were freaking out over nothing. The critic loved you, and so did everyone else."
"Except Sue and that creep that stole your robe," Rachel said, a look of disgust morphing her cute features.
"Don't remind me," Kurt shuddered. "I had to let him keep it. I almost gave him the couch, too."
Rachel laughed, and even that sounded musical. "If we'd done that, we would have had to give him the whole apartment."
"Who knows, maybe that was Sue's plan all along," Kurt said, oddly amused. His face became serious after that, and he grabbed hold of Rachel's phone and slipped it into the back pocket of his designer skinny jeans. He took hold of her small yet graceful hands, which were almost as soft as his own, he thought absently. "Listen to me, Rachel. You're going to go up there and be amazing, just like every other night. Why are you so nervous? This is your last show. You can do this."
Rachel looked down for a moment, biting her lip, and then she met his eyes. He was standing, so she had to look high up, but Kurt got the feeling that her big brown eyes darted higher than him for an instant. He could see her eyes beginning to well up and immediately retreated, pulling out a handkerchief from his blazer. Rachel took it gratefully, turning back to the mirror to stare at her reflection. Seeing herself in Fanny's wig only made her want to cry harder.
"It's just that… I mean, I know he's always with us in spirit, Kurt, but Finn will never get to see me be Fanny," she said, keeping her explanation brief. She sniffled and brought his handkerchief to her eyes, dabbing them periodically. "I know it's silly, but he always said he wouldn't miss a show. He promised. He always said he knew it was going to happen, that I'd be a star, and now, it's actually happened, and…"
Kurt started. Finn was his step-brother. If anyone could imagine Rachel's grief, it was him. Kurt had his own dreams of becoming a star one day, and he too had hoped Finn would be there to support him, like Kurt would have been there to support Finn when he eventually became a teacher. "That's what this is about?"
Rachel nodded, suddenly feeling exposed. She would have felt guilty for being so vulnerable if she had done it with anyone other than Finn's brother. She knew he understood. "I have my necklace." She pointed to the dainty gold necklace. Resting between her collarbones, the name Finn was spelled in slightly curvy lettering. "I guess that's as close to him being out there with me that I'm ever going to get." She paused, as if not sure she should even mention it, but decided to go for it. "I haven't taken it off for even one show."
Kurt nodded, rubbing his hand around her back in a circle soothingly. He knew she never took the necklace off. It had become a part of her, like air in her lungs, providing her what she needed to get through her day.
A sudden knock came rapping at her door, and a guy in glasses who carried a brown clipboard peaked his head inside. "Ten minutes, Miss Berry!"
Rachel wiped her eyes once more, with her thumb this time, and nodded into the mirror. She could see the man reflected in it, and he could see her, too. He smiled, adjusted his headset, and waited until he was out of hearing distance before updating the stage crew.
Kurt grabbed her petite frame gently and hugged his friend. "Do you want me to stay? I don't have a ticket, but I could wait in your dressing room." He didn't want to say it, didn't even really want to admit to thinking it, but he was almost glad this was the last Funny Girl show of the year. Rachel was a high maintenance friend to keep, but he loved her regardless. And now that summer was here, NYADA was over for the school year, so she would have more time to relax. She could even come back and work at the diner as a singing waitress with him on days where the theater wasn't planning events around the city for her to attend.
Rachel smiled, let out a short giggle, and said, "I really appreciate the offer, Kurt. You're an amazing friend. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you." She stood up, examining her less than fresh face, and frowned. "But no, go be with Blaine. June can't possibly still be hogging him. I know you miss spending time with him."
Kurt stared, watching as she began to apply eyeliner and mascara with a shaky hand. "Do you want me to go grab someone to help you get ready? You only have—" he pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at the time. The LCD screen read 7:51pm. The show started at 8:00pm. "—nine minutes."
"Can you just grab MJ? She's right down the hall. Just tell her—tell her whatever you want. I don't care. We're not exactly friends. In fact, tell her I got a hideous rash or broke my ankle or something— I'm sure she'll come running at the opportunity to see me squirm," Rachel said tersely, sweeping a giant powder brush with peachy blush across her cheekbone.
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He was avoiding this for far too long. That silly musical he had no time to see Mary Jane perform in? Yeah, well, now Peter Parker was going to sit through it. Okay, maybe that was a harsh thing to say about a friend. But MJ wasn't even starring as the lead role, or any notable role, in fact. Some other fresh new break out star was in the limelight, was the one whose face was on buses and benches around the city. But Mary Jane Watson had continued pestering Gwen and Peter about this show ever since opening night. She finally managed to get them tickets. Though, getting the tickets was never the problem. All of the crime needing to be fought took up most of Peter's time. Things were quieter though, now that Dr. Connors and Osborn were locked up.
He wasn't even allowed to swing to the theater, Gwen told him. And he had to dress up! In a coat and tie. He shoved his hands in his pocket and felt like a five-year-old on his way to a boring wedding reception. If only a rock had been in his path on the sidewalk; he would kick it. Peter stared down at himself and at his black dress shoes uncomfortably when a gentle, thin arm slid across the inside of his, hooking them together. He glanced sideways at Gwen, the love of his life, and suddenly remembered why he agreed to get all dressed up and sit through a musical in the first place. It definitely wasn't for MJ.
Though they were good friends, Mary Jane told them she had no lines or solos, but that it still meant a lot to her for all of her friends to come see her in the production so they could get used to the idea of coming to see shows where she was the star – in the future, of course. Harry Osborn, Peter's best friend, already saw the show on opening night, and five times after that. This was his seventh time attending Funny Girl on Broadway, which was suitable, Peter thought, considering they were together. And Flash Thompson, an ex-boyfriend of the redheaded girl, had seen the show twice.
"You think you could keep that smile when we see Mary Jane?" Gwen said, raising her eyebrows. They disappeared behind a full blonde fringe. The rest of her hair was tied back into a high ponytail, allowing Peter to admire her pretty face without its golden frame.
"She might think I'm flirting with her," Peter said radically. "It's happened before."
"Oh, my poor Peter," Gwen said, mocking him jokingly. "How dare that gorgeous ginger tell you how handsome and smart you are every time she sees you. Must be pretty rough."
"It is," Peter said dejectedly. Gwen found the flirtation between MJ and Peter to be harmless, not knowing that he used to have a crush on her before he met Gwen. That was back when she would visit her Aunt Anna Watson, who lived next door to Peter and his Aunt May. The two old ladies were always trying to get them together. But beautiful Mary Jane was never the sort of girl to be happy with just one guy in her life, least of all a science nerd like Peter Parker.
Now it seemed the tables had turned, yet it was too late for Peter to be with Mary Jane. He was in love with Gwen – so in love that after months of torture on his and Gwen's hearts, he went back on his word to Gwen's father about staying away from her. It was better for Peter to be around Gwen to look after her (admittedly, he tried to do so anyway from afar, which didn't work very well). Now, the desperate longing for each other in their hearts was satiated.
They continued walking when a black limousine pulled up at the sidewalk. Peter halted, reflexively grabbing Gwen's arm protectively with the hand that wasn't linked with hers. The back door of the limo swung open, and Harry Osborn stepped out with a wide smile on his face.
"Care for a ride?" Harry said, gesturing toward his personal limo. Strange was the idea, Peter thought, how a "personal limo" for any other person to possess was actually ridiculous. But when it came to the son of Norman Osborn, it wasn't strange in the slightest.
"I thought we were meeting at the theater?" Peter said. It was more of a statement than a question.
"We were," said Harry, fastening his hands together in front of him. "I had my driver pull over when I saw you two. Those shoes look uncomfortable, Gwen."
Peter looked down at Gwen's feet. She was wearing black pumps, the plastic water-resistant material shining in the moon and city street lights. Honestly, he barely noticed. Yes, she was slightly taller, he realized. Peter felt like an asshole now, though other things had been on his mind. If he had just swung through the city with Gwen clinging to him, maybe her feet wouldn't have had to suffer. But they were being a "normal" couple tonight; it was Gwen's idea, and it seemed important to her. Peter could respect that; Gwen deserved whatever he had to offer her. Most of the time, it was ditching her to stop criminals and/or Goblins. He cursed under his breath.
"I knew what I was getting myself into when I put them on," said Gwen, shrugging. She heard Peter curse to himself – though, thankfully, Harry hadn't – and squeezed his arm reassuringly with the hand resting on his bicep. She seemed to do a double take, having to stop herself from releasing a quiet gasp. She was slightly startled by the hard muscle of his arm underneath the cotton material. Though they had touched each other before, she had never randomly grabbed his arms and squeezed like that. It reminded Gwen of trying to squeeze a thick metal rod. Gwen knew Peter was physically much stronger than a regular nineteen-year-old, but what she failed to consider was just how much stronger he was. She imagined that punching him would be like punching a stainless steel refrigeration unit. Not exactly something that stole her fancy. A strange comfort came to her, knowing that when he fought the bad guys, he really did have an upper hand, even if they were armed. She shook the thought away quickly before finishing. "It's really nice of you to offer, though, Harry."
Harry looked between the two of them, calculating. "So is that a yes, then?" It was supposed to be a no, which Harry very well knew, but he persisted. He was good at persisting.
Gwen smiled and looked to Peter for confirmation. Peter wondered how a ride in a limousine could possibly pass for normal in Gwen's eyes, but as he thought moments ago, being friends with an Osborn was something of a perk. He seemed hesitant but raised his eyebrows before giving a curt bow of his head, which almost went undetected. Gwen nodded at Harry.
Peter was grateful to have a friend like Harry Osborn, but sometimes, he couldn't shake the arrogance and superiority complex that Harry resonated. Peter guessed he got it from his father. Norman Osborn, founder of OsCorp, had recently caused Spider-Man a lot of grief, which – in turn – caused Peter grief, as well. Osborn was powerful and wealthy, the most influential man in the city. He used his vast resources at OsCorp to make himself "better" after finding the security footage of Peter in the Spider Room. He'd tested serums on himself and invented dangerous weapons (and even a flying hover board, appropriately named the Goblin Glider). But the Green Goblin was in jail… for now. Peter had made sure of it.
The imprisonment of Norman Osborn bothered Harry, even angered him. Harry knew that Spider-Man had something to do with it and liked to pretend his father wasn't mentally unstable. Peter could hardly blame his friend; though Norman wasn't the kind of dad to give warm fuzzies and heartfelt conversations, he was all Harry had left in the world. Except for Mary Jane Watson.
Peter held the door of the limo open and offered a hand to Gwen, which she accepted with another smile. She ducked her head and gripped her plain black clutch purse against her ribcage, which held both of their Broadway tickets. He followed in after her, shooting Harry a look of gratitude for pulling over. Once all three friends were inside the car, Harry offered them drinks, and they chattered and joked the entire way to the theater. The young Osborn mostly laughed at Peter's expense, while Gwen kept trying to change the subject to Mary Jane and how things were going between the two of them.
Peter's ears perked each time Harry spoke of Mary Jane. Even though he was indisputably in love with Gwen Stacy, the part of him that wondered what being with MJ was like craved insight.
"Oh, things are great between us," Harry said, waving it off with a wine-free hand. "She's been preoccupied with the show recently, but the time we spend apart only makes the time we spend together that much more special."
Gwen gave a genuine grin. "Cheese Louise, Harry," she snickered. "I thought she wasn't trying to be serious with anyone right now."
Harry snorted. "She's not. She's been seeing other men. But I like to think I'm her favorite."
"So, are you seeing other women then?" asked Gwen conversationally. Peter looked to Harry, quietly enjoying the back and forth of their exchange. Until—
"Why do you ask, beautiful?" Harry said slowly. He winked and fidgeted in his seat. He took another swig of Pinot Grigio, not bothering to sip slowly. Gwen paused, wide-eyed, and Peter blinked. Clearing his ears, he turned to Harry.
"She's taken, bud," Peter reminded him lightly, giving him a pat on the arm. Harry laughed, raising his glass to the pair of them as if to say Yes, of course, I was only teasing, and swallowed more wine. Gwen decided to set her own drink down, suddenly not in the mood to partake in that aspect of the evening. Her hand, now empty, reached for Peter's. She grabbed it affectionately.
"In all seriousness, though," said Harry, leaning forward, "I think I'm going to ask Rachel Berry on a date."
"Isn't that Fanny?" said Gwen, shocked.
"That's the one," Harry smiled. "Wait until you two hear her sing. Don't tell MJ, but she's the reason I keep coming back to see the show."
"She's really that good?" Peter said, reaching his free hand behind his neck to scratch it. His face was distorted with doubt and impending boredom.
"You very well know that I, Harry Osborn, am a cultured young man," began Harry, his voice dripping with sarcasm yet holding every truth. "I enjoy a good Broadway show, and I'm secure enough with my masculinity to admit it. But this girl… you need to hear to believe. The closing number… I can't describe it. Hashtag: I cry every time."
That was when the limo made its final stop right in front of the theater. The three of them filtered out clumsily. Harry thanked the driver and told him to be ready for a text or call at any given moment.
Gwen leaned in to Peter, the two of them walking toward the theater as Harry talked to the driver. "Don't tell Harry, but now I'm kind of excited."
"Don't tell Harry? Don't tell MJ," Peter corrected, chuckling.
"Oh, I know," said Gwen. "The way MJ talks about Rachel Berry… I think she's probably very jealous of her success. They're the same age, from what I heard. I can't imagine how she'd react to Harry going on a date with her."
Peter never really thought about it like that. But it seemed awfully unfair for MJ to potentially hold dating other people against Harry when she was doing just that.
The trio filtered inside with ease. There were only a couple of audience members waiting to be ushered to their seats. It was only minutes before the curtain would reel back, exposing the bright starlet for a final time.
Peter had expected Gwen to love the performance. She was in that sort of moods where her heartstrings were easily pulled. He wasn't anticipating much of a thrill from the show; he certainly hadn't believed Harry when he said he'd need to hear Rachel Berry to believe how amazing she was. Yet Harry had been unequivocally correct. From the moment she opened her mouth, Peter was on the edge of his seat. She made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; not the way they did when his spider sense was tingling, but in the same way that goose bumps made his skin feel alive.
Gwen, more than once, turned to share her awestruck face with her one true love. The final number, as Harry mentioned, caught Gwen misty-eyed. This was the last time she looked at her boyfriend throughout the show, and she could have sworn even his eyes were shining in the reflection of the dim stage lights (though she was sure he hadn't actually allowed real tears to form – he was Spider-Man, for goodness sake).
It all made sense to him now. Peter understood why this girl's face was underground in the subway station, printed on park benches, posted on flyers that were distributed city-wide.
She really was a star.
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Thanks so much for reading! Please forgive the boring start! I know it was quite lengthy yet nothing really happened, but the next chapter will be jumping ahead about six months. Action will emerge! I hope you choose to follow for more! Love and light to you all. xo
