AN: So I've had this idea stuck in my head for ... awhile and finally decided I had to get it out of my system. And I'm not sure how well this is going to come off, because it's my first multi-chapter story, and it's also probably thoroughly implausible. But hey, let's just go with it, maybe it'll be fun!
One quick bit of dramatic license: I decided what they referred to as "spring break" in 'Laringytis' was probably more like the February break most high schools have - since Regionals seems to fall somewhere in March.
Timeframe: Begins a few days post 1x17, 'Bad Reputation.'
Rating: Is for language, teen partying, maybe some suggestive stuff in later chapters (rating is probably higher than it has to be, but I guess is cracking down and I'd rather err on the side of too high than too low).
Disclaimer: None of 'em are mine. Sadly.
Welcome to the Jungle
"Are you okay?"
She's been wrapped up in her own thoughts, so the voice behind her makes her jump - and she chastises herself, because being so distracted is just asking for a slushy facial. She looks over her shoulder, and thankfully, it's Kurt, which is - surprising.
Sure, they've forged a tentative truce in recent weeks. She has a healthy respect for Kurt's talent - and she's learned that they share a great many dreams. She's also learned that sometimes, when you're so like someone and you share such a small town, it's hard to look past being rivals to be true friends.
So the concern and sympathy on Kurt's face is genuinely surprising.
"Fine." She gives him a bright smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you and Jesse barely said two words to each other in rehearsal today, and you didn't even have the energy to muster more than a glare when Puck asked who Stephen Schwartz was."
"I'm fine," she protests wanly, her mind half on Kurt and half on the missing textbook she must have left in the choir room, wondering if she has time to go back and get it and still make the afternoon bus. It's obvious Jesse will not be driving her home today.
"Rachel, it's glaringly obvious. Ever since 'Run Joey Run' - hideous song, by the way - Jesse sits there looking like he wants to strangle someone, and you just look miserable."
"Yeah, what do you care?" She knows she's being petulant and really can't afford to lose friends - especially now - but she doesn't particularly feel like being cross examined today. "I thought you hated him anyway."
"Look, I know I wasn't happy when you started dating him - quite frankly, I wouldn't be happy about anyone from New Directions dating someone from another choir. We're enough of a cesspool of drama as it is. But you two are kind of sickeningly perfect together. You're even more obnoxious together than apart."
She half smiles. "Was there a compliment in there somewhere, Kurt?"
Kurt shrugs, leaning over to check his hair in her locker mirror. "Quite frankly, I'm a little jealous."
He makes the comment airily enough, but there's a certain weight to the words she can't just let slide. "Kurt." They're not friendly enough to hug, but she puts a hand on his arm, squeezes. "You just haven't met someone as brave as you yet."
They're quiet for a second, and then she sighs.
"I really messed up, didn't I?"
"He seems pretty angry." Kurt shrugs. "I can't say I blame him. He basically turned his entire life upside down for you, and you pulled that. The guy has such a big ego, I can't imagine it felt good."
That Jesse turned his entire life upside down might be an understatement, she thinks. She doesn't know much about Carmel - but knows it can't have been anything like McKinley. It seems that Vocal Adrenaline is more like the Cheerios - not at the bottom of the social heap. It certainly couldn't have been like Jesse's third day at McKinley, when he'd taken a slushy to the face. In hindsight, that incident may be why Kurt has softened on him - after seeing Jesse's horrified reaction, the two had bonded over hair care products.
There's so much she doesn't know about his life, she realizes. The week they started dating, he was submitted to a truly awkward interrogation at the hands of not one, but two fathers - but she doesn't know anything about his parents, beyond a few flippant remarks he's made. He's here, at her school, with her friends - but she doesn't know anyone about the people he spent three years building a team with. She could name his dream roles, but couldn't tell you his favorite color.
And now he thinks she doesn't even care. If anything, though, it's exactly the opposite. Her music video, which she had gone into thinking it was just acting, had only served to highlight - blantantly - the differences between the three boys. Finn had looked completely lost, had needed the most serious coaching, had gotten creeped out by Dr. Ryerson, and had gotten on her nerves more than once by reminding her what a favor he was doing her. Noah lacked the knowledge and background to have a single serious discussion about what they were doing, and was concerned about a 'chick flick' music video harming his own bad reputation - but mostly just looked vaguely amused, before attempting again to make out with her. Jesse, though - while he'd been agreeable about participating in her project to support her, he'd been more than willing to say it to her face when he disagreed with her artistic decisions, and it had resulted in more than one spirited debate. But she's never met someone else who is so invested in what he's doing. While it was work getting the other two boys to participate, with Jesse, it had been an enjoyable undertaking. Thoroughly enjoyable. She still feels short of breath when she remembers the way he kissed her goodnight.
It's laughable that her one stupid action - an action she thought nothing of until she saw the hurt on Jesse's face that even he couldn't hide - taught her so much. And yet it might be the action that costs her everything.
The inconvertible truth is this - whatever she does or does not know about him, however she's hurt him or he might hurt her, he's become a part of her life. She has to find a way to fix things with him. She has to.
"Come on," Kurt says, snapping her out of her reverie. He links his arm with hers. "I'll give you a ride."
"Look, I'm coming back. It's what you wanted." He's pacing furiously around the small living room of his bachelor uncle's apartment, grateful that he's working late again. "I don't see what the big deal is."
"The big deal is that you're not finished with what I asked you to do yet." His former coach sounds vaguely impatient and accusatory, and only years of training - her word is law - keep him from barking down the line that he's 18 and she's turned his fucking life upside down.
"Look, it's not going to happen. She's not going to come looking for you - not without me being really, really obvious about it. They'll figure out that you're trying to breach the contract, and I don't want to get dragged into that kind of legal trouble."
"Look, Jesse, just give it another week or two. Get her to open up to you."
"I just ... can't stay at McKinley another week." He refuses to tell her that it's because his stomach is in knots every time he thinks of Rachel - her daughter. "They're ... they're insipid."
"Jesse, I know this is like asking a fish not to swim, but could you try not being overdramatic for five minutes and telling me what actually happened?"
Now, instead of sounding impatient, she sounds concerned. It's the one thing he can't handle right now.
"You don't get it," he says helplessly.
"Jesse - "
"My uncle's unlocking the door. I have to go." He hangs up even though it's obviously a blatant lie, tossing the phone against the couch cushions.
Unable to stand still, he turns and stalks back across the room. He knows he's being overdramatic, even though he's home alone and has no audience, and he can't quite seem to help himself.
'Run Joey Run' had been all well and good when they were rehearsing alone. They'd done some of the storyboarding together, and it had turned into a long-winded artistic debate. The whole storyline of the song is ridiculous, but her acting his so wholehearted - from her wild-eyed "Watch out!" to the way she swoons in his arms - that it's a whole different kind of turn on. And when they'd been practicing at night and she'd started shivering in her driveway, he'd shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders without thinking about it. The look she'd turned on him, her eyes soft, had stirred something funny inside of him.
But now, the image of her doing the same with Puckerman, and worse, Hudson is branded over the memory, and he feels sick, his hands clenching into fists.
When did she become the sort of person he had these feelings about?
Almost immediately, his phone rings again. He assumes it's Shelby calling back. He picks up without glancing at it. "What?" he snaps. not really caring at the moment that she'll definitely school him over the attitude when he goes back to Carmel.
"Is that any way to greet a lady?"
This may or may not be preferable to talking to Shelby. "I don't see a lady, Giselle."
"How's slumming it going? You know, when you go on a recon mission, you're supposed to actually report back to your team."
"Just ... busy." He sounds lame even to his own ears. The official story he and Shelby had agreed upon was a recon mission - since New Directions is such a new group and no one really knows what to expect from them at regionals.
"Boy, that chick did a number on you, huh?"
"Who says there's a girl?"
"Please, Jesse, it all adds up." She pauses. "It's the little soloist from Sectionals, isn't it? The Streisand wannabe. We all saw how you were looking at her."
"Just passing time," he lies. "She's the only one on the team who's remotely talented."
"Come on, St. James. I've never seen a girl get to you this way." He thinks she sounds a little jealous. She pauses again. "You know, there are ways you could forget her, if she's messing with your head."
"Sorry, Gis. Sloppy seconds aren't my style."
"Just tell me you're almost done with this and you're coming back," she whines. "Things are insufferable here. It's just Chris and Ben jockeying for all your solos and neither one of them can pull off the lifts. I need a decent male lead, Jesse."
Despite himself, he laughs. It's nice to know how things fall apart in your absence. "I'll come back whenever Coach Corcoran tells me to."
"Look, at least tell me you're still coming on break with us." When he hesitates, she latches on to it. "Please? It's bad enough Liz has a college visit and isn't going. It's senior year. Our victory lap. Get away from the wannabes at McKinley for a week and spend it with the people you belong with."
He only has to think for a second. The ticket is already purchased - courtesy of Carmel's boosters. It will take him next to no time to pack. McKinley's winter break doesn't line up with Carmel's, but his grades are impeccable - he can afford to miss a few classes.
And maybe a week away will be just what he needs to clear his head and decipher this hold Rachel Berry has on him.
"Okay. I'm in."
"Rachel Berry, right?"
She looks up from the stack of music she's looking at (there has to be an apology song in here somewhere) and, not for the first time, she wonders if every show kid in Ohio frequents this store.
"Andrea Cohen?" She remembers the day they snuck into Vocal Adrenaline's rehearsal in their ill-fated attempt to recrupt Dakota Stanley and she'd been a little star struck by this girl. And now - "You know my name," she says. Completely lamely.
"Please. Your Sectionals performance was extraordinary. You could stand some minor improvements to your diction - but still extraordinary."
"Thank you." She has to stop herself from asking Andrea for more details on her performance. She's amazed that anyone she's met from Carmel so far - although it's just Jesse, and now Andrea - thinks she's genuinely talented, but still knows how to help her improve. She's far and away the best New Directions has to offer. Mr. Schue typically gives her a "Very good, Rachel," and that's that. No notes - nothing to improve. Not for the first time, she wonders if she's really learning enough.
"Anyway, I'd know you anywhere," Andrea continues. "You're Jesse's girl, right? The one he ditched us for."
I think I am. I was. I hope I still am. "He's a great guy," is what she says instead.
"Yeah. We miss him. We're so glad he's coming with us on break."
Rachel knows it's suicide to let Andrea see she feels like she's just been punched in the stomach. Jesse had offhandedly mentioned several weeks ago that some other members of Vocal Adrenaline would be going to San Diego for the upcoming winter break, something the upperclassmen did every year, apparently. But she hadn't known he planned on going.
And she certainly hadn't thought he'd leave town without telling her.
Andrea snaps her fingers. "Hey, a funny thing happened. You know Liz Perle?"
"The soprano soloist?"
"She's the one. You don't miss a trick, Berry." Andrea takes another sip out of the travel mug in her hand, then grabs Rachel by the arm. Still a little numb, she agreeably lets herself be guided toward a windowseat where they can sit and talk. "She's visiting this conservatory next week and can't go with us this year, see."
"You did WHAT?" Giselle shouts into the phone that evening.
"Please, ask louder, Gis. I don't think my neighbors heard you," Andrea says mildly.
"We can't spend a whole week with her!" Giselle hisses.
"Look, who cares if she uses the ticket? Liz isn't going anyway. There's something up between her and Jesse, and I want to know what it is."
"Tell me about it. You should have heard him earlier."
"She's a pretty good actress, but she still couldn't hide it - you should have seen how shifty she was about it. She had no clue he was coming with us."
"He wasn't planning to tell her, either, from what I picked up. Things are seriously fixing to blow up between them."
"Exactly. Look, whatever recon Coach sent him on, it's not working. So let's help him out a little. She's talented, but trust me, she's green as hell. A few days on the beach, and she'll be telling us everything."
Giselle smirks into the phone - admiring and a little jealous she didn't think of it first. She and Andrea have a weird, almost antagonistic friendship. They're each other's stiffest competition for the female lead. But they've also been friends since grammar school. Maybe it's because you really should keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Or maybe it's because no one else would stoop to these levels.
Just doing what needs to be done, they'd both say.
"Brilliant. Andi. But let me do you one better."
"Oh?"
"We're going to kick the shit out of McKinley at Regionals. But first, let's psych Barbra out good."
