It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Although allowing herself to think his name was far too painful and in spite of the numerous distractions she had engaged her brain with in an effort to not think about him, Rachel had rehearsed for this moment thousands of times in the privacy of her bedroom. Even outstanding actresses such as herself needed rehearsal to perform perfectly. Their next meeting was supposed to come during an audition in her second year in New York. She would go to an open casting call whilst still completing her studies at Julliard on an off chance and to gain more audition experience. Due to the overwhelming nature of her talent, Rachel would beet out much of her more experienced competition and gain a call back for the part of Elphaba in the revival of Wicked (this was however, the only detail that quite often changed according to whichever soundtrack was currently playing from her extensive selection on i-tunes, last week it was Wendla in Spring Awakening) the director would announce that she would be partnered up with come of the actors auditioning for the part of Fiyero (Melchior/Marius/Tony) in order to test their chemistry.

He would walk on from the other side of the stage and their eyes would meet. Her heart would skip a beat and his face would fall in shame at being faced with the person to whom he had committed all of his most atrocious deeds. They would sing As Long as You're Mine (The Guilty Ones/A Little Fall of Rain/ Tonight) together and Rachel would dazzle the director with her powerhouse voice and ability to portray love tinged with sadness for a person she has never met before and although she won't know it then will gain the part on the spot.

He will be so overcome by his shame during their audition that she will far outshine him and he will only be engaged as an understudy and chorus member as befitting his status as a heartless, unfeeling, manipulative, shallow, baby chick murdering, only cares about a stupid national title, went to UCLA rather than Julliard so will never make it anyway, in cahoots with her so called "mother", wears far to much hair gel and is nowhere near as "fastidiously groomed" as he thinks he is bastard. He will ask her if she can ever forgive him and she will state, with the perfect amount of poise and just a hint of derision, "Do you still think about that? I'm far to busy to dwell on the misdemeanours of past boyfriends!" She will then flounce away to her favourite coffee shop for her usual soy latte and to congratulate herself on finally putting him in his rightful place and gaining the closure a starlet such as herself deserved.

He would be so devastated by her brush off; he would finally feel what she felt in the parking lot that day: gut wrenching, soul destroying pain, the kind you never recover from. He would then go and disappear under whatever rock he had been hiding under that meant he couldn't pick up a phone to call and apologise to her and never be seen again.

Trust him to ruin her, if she did say so herself, astoundingly well thought out and rehearsed plan by being here, in her auditorium, on her stage, staring at her, with those eyes. Those eyes that generally made her want to do stupid things. Like run into his arms sobbing and begging him to take her back and just hold her because they were perfect together and she had missed him so much. Luckily (or unluckily if you really thought about it) the part of her that he had crushed was bigger than the infatuated school girl part of her that so often did most of her thinking. (See above re Finn Hudson and distractions)

She just stood there. Staring at him. And cursing him for ruining her plan. Can't forget that.

She was suddenly struck with the overwhelming thought that if she continued to stare into his eyes she was going to cry. This more than the aforementioned cursing roused her into speech. And she prepared to say her (amended due to him showing up far before he was supposed to) perfect line,

"I'm far too busy for this conversation, please leave now." Ending the line with a perfect hairtoss and storm out.

Unfortunately her brain and her mouth were apparently not connected whatsoever as what actually came out in a rather breathless way was,

"What are you doing here?" Damn, damn, damn, damn ,damn. Why did he have a knack of making her say and do the absolute stupidest things? (Case in point Run Joey, Run and her misguided need to pretend she wasn't head over heels in love with a boy that she had only known for two weeks and wasn't quite sure returned said feelings. She'd gotten her proof but at an extreme price.)

Tearing herself away from his gaze she managed to compose herself for his inevitably harsh reply as he had obviously come here to mock her for her lack of prom date, fact that her own mother probably still spoke to him even though she wanted nothing to do with her own flesh and blood and would rather replace her with the spawn of Satan herself (or Quinn as she is normally known as).

She is startled out of her internal imagining of all possible worst case scenarios by a gentle finger stroking her cheek softly, a gesture that somehow feels more intimate than her hottest make-out session with Finn. She had no idea he had gotten that close.

"I've come to win you back."

Oh God she has missed his voice.

"Please don't touch me" She breathes out in barely a whisper. She opens her eyes and catches a glint of something that looks suspiciously like regret in his face before she snaps out of the reverie she has been in since he touched her and retreats backwards until she hits the wall with a soft "oof" of shock.

The cold wall against her back stirs something within her and she is suddenly beyond furious.

"You don't get to do this. You don't get to come here to my auditorium, my sacred space and look at me with those puppy dog eyes and touch me like I'll just fall at your feet and do whatever you want me to do. You had that from me and you crushed it. I trusted you…" Her voice breaks but she bites her lip to stop herself from crying. She will not cry in front of him. She didn't cry when he broke an egg on her head and she won't cry now.

The not crying is getting harder and harder and she bites down on her lip so hard she draws blood. She brings her thumb to her bottom lip and it comes away covered in blood. They both look at it, shocked. And now the pain in her heart compared with the pain in her lip and the way he is looking at her with eyes full of remorse and longing all combine together and her previous effort of not crying has gone completely out of the window.

Her chest is tight and she feels ridiculous because he has only said six words and she has already caused herself an injury which will look awful in her prom photos and she is steadily on the way to hysteric crying/hyperventilating and all she can think of is how she needs to get out of there before he says anything else and makes it worse.

Before she makes it to the nearest exit, she feels a pair of arms wrapped around her and the steady thump of his heartbeat under her ear and yes this is definitely worse because her sobs have gotten louder and she has past the point of hysterics because she just missed this. Missed him. A lot.

He wipes her bloody thumb on his t-shirt and hums softly in her ear a tune that sounds suspiciously like "Hello". Her first coherent thought since he wrapped his arms around her is that Lionel Richie has a lot to answer for. When she has calmed down slightly she feels his grip loosen and teasing fingers lift her chin to meet his eyes. Before she can stop him he says,

"Come to prom with me?"

Half of her is indignant at his audacity in assuming she doesn't already have a date (the more rational side of her thinks the violence of her reaction to him probably suggests more about her current dateless state and the reason for it) and the other half of her knows she is going to say yes even though it makes her look weak and pathetic and like she has been pining for him. She has but he doesn't need to know that, his ego is too big as it is. She also thinks the fact that it only took eleven words to win her back after all the pain he has caused her is something she is hoping he won't figure out just yet and so she sets about making him sweat just a little bit.

"You know I had our next meeting meticulously planned out"

"Oh really? And how was it supposed to go?" He says with his trademark smirk fixed back in place.

"Nothing at all like this. A lot less blood was involved."

He laughed. "I'm surprised."

There is a moment of silence as they look into each others eyes and, clichéd as it may sound, see all they need to see. They lean in to one another. Before his lips can touch hers she stops.

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven."

"Is that a yes to prom?"

She kisses him to wipe away the smug look on his face. They pause again. He looks at her with a teasing glint in his eye and she already knows what he is about to say.

"You do realise that it only took me eleven words to get you back."

Damn. "Jesse!"