a/n: hello! welcome to my new story. this will probably be a multi chapter. i'm still quite devastated about Cory's passing, but i've realised that the only way to preserve cory's and finn's memory is to keep writing. so here i am. i will NOT write any fics about cory/finn's death because i think it's a little too personal and the feelings are still too raw. and besides, we all need a little fluff. well, i hope you like my new story. :)

For Cory Allan Michael Monteith

You inspire me, everyday

But the universe took you away

For that, i'll never be okay.

He can't believe it. He's here, at an Emmys after party. The sheer number of stars alone astounds him.

He clumsily fumbles with his cocktail glass as the bartender slides it over to him.

"First time here?" He smirks, as if mocking his classlessness.

"Yeah." Finn says, a little sheepishly. "I can't believe I'm actually here."

"Well, lucky you. But between you and me, all the stars here are almost always a little snobbish. So, don't get your hopes up if you're thinking of speaking to them." He offers, wiping off the stickiness from the table.

"Really? Oh man. I'm just a college student though, do you think they'll take pity on me?"

He seems amused. "Wow, how'd you manage to get in here?"

"Oh, I intern at a magazine, you see, I'm going to be a journalist."

The bartender cocks his head to the side. Finn thinks he can't be more than thirty years old.

"Well, good luck with that kid."

With that, the bartender leaves him alone to tend to the other patrons. He finds himself alone again, staring down at his now half empty glass. He should probably go do something, he thinks, or else he'd be a big let down to Mr Schuester – his boss. He swivels his stool around, scanning the room for the biggest celebrities. One he could possibly talk to about being on the cover of their next issue. They don't pick them at random. It's very strategic you see. Pick the one you think will bring the magazine more buyers, Mr Schue had said. Pick the one with the most gossip factor. He shakes his head in disgust. He'd always wanted to become a journalist to tell stories about inspirational people, not create mindless gossip about them. But what else could he do, it was the only magazine that wanted to hire him. So he took the opportunity. Maybe years down the road he'd hate himself. But today is not the day. He's at an Emmys after party for goodness sake!

His eyes continue scanning the room, until it falls on one beauty. It can't be. He thinks. Is that the Rachel Berry? The girl he's had a secret crush on for years? His buddies don't think she's that hot but he couldn't give two shits. He's got her poster, hidden way back in his closet – which his friends don't need to find out about. She's talking to some men, other actors probably, maybe co-stars, he can't make out their faces from way back here.

He thinks he should go up and talk to her. Then, his brain reminds him of what the bartender said. So he sits back down. An internal conflict ensues. On one hand, he knows that if he doesn't even try, he'll go to bed tonight feeling terrible. On the other hand, he doesn't want to embarrass himself.

He sighs, and takes another sip of his cocktail.

Oh what the hell. It's worth a shot.

He gets up from his seat and begins heading in her direction.

"Um, excuse me, Miss Berry?" He says.

"Yeah?" She answers, turning around to face him. He doubles back for a second. Wow. She looks even more amazing in person. He can't believe she's actually standing right in front of him. Her eyebrows begin to crease and he thinks he should probably say something soon or else she'd think he's a weirdo, or something.

"Uh, I just wanted to say, that you look really beautiful." He smiles and decides to walk away without giving her time to react. At least that way, he'll go to bed happy. He wanders over back to the bar and orders another margarita. He can't wipe the grin off his face.

"Hey." Says a small voice, from behind him.

He turns around and is stunned to find Rachel Berry studying him with an amused look on her face.

"You can't just say I'm beautiful and walk away."

"Well," He begins, scratching the back on his neck – something he does when he's nervous, he realises. "I-I was a little afraid of how you might react."

"How I might react?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're like up there, while, I'm like… down here. You know? It's a little intimidating. But I meant what I said. You do look really beautiful tonight."

Her cheeks turn pink a little before she says, "Well, I am the biggest Broadway and movie star now." She chuckles, as she takes a seat beside him.

"That, you are." He smiles. "I've seen all your shows. You really are, something."

Her right eyebrow arches. "All of them?"

He nods and stares back at his margarita, when her soft hands reach out for his arm. "I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Finn." He says. "Finn Hudson."

She orders a virgin cosmo because she continues, "So, Finn Hudson, what is it that you do?"

"Can't I keep the mystery for a while?" He laughs. "Let me pretend to have an exciting life for once."

"Well, I do like mysterious guys." She says, her voice lowering, as she takes a sip of her cosmo.

He gulps.

He then notices a splash of cosmo on her upper lip.

"Oh, you got a little cosmo right there." He whispers, cleaning it away with his thumb.

He hears her breath hitch as she looks at his hand and up at him with those doe eyes.

"Do you – do you wanna get out of here?" She murmurs.

He feels his pants tighten at the implication.

"You mean?"

"Yeah, come on." She smiles, tugging at his hand.

A black, stretched limo awaits them, the moment they leave the hotel's doors. She thanks the valet and pulls him into the car. He thinks that this whole thing is fucking insane. But he'll take it.

The moment the car door slams and they begin to drive off, she tugs at his dress shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss, which he gladly reciprocates. Her hands claw at his hair while his hands find purchase her waist.

"I've never done anything like this before." She says, in between kisses. "Have you?"

"No. This is fucking crazy."

"I know, Oh god." She moans as he begins to pepper kisses on her neck. "Ugh. You're so fucking hot."

He begins to laugh into her neck.

"What?" She asks, annoyed at the sudden break in atmosphere.

"Rachel Berry curses?"

"I can fucking swear, whenever I fucking want. I'm not a little girl anymore." She fumes, pushing him back against the seat to straddle against him and plunges her tongue into his mouth.

It is not long before they reach the safety of Rachel's house.

They fool around all night.

"You're really good." Rachel pants, obviously exhausted from their –cough- activities.

"Why, thank you." He smirks as she rolls over to splay her arm across his bare chest.

"You know, you never really told me what you do." She muses, tracing patterns along his chest.

"I guess the mystery part is gone, huh." He laughs.

Smiling, she nods.

"I'm a journalist." He says.

"You're a what?" She shrieks, sitting up. Hastily grabbing a handful of the bedspread to cover herself.

At first he doesn't understand what the big deal is.

"I'm a journalist?" He tries again.

"So. This. What we just did. Was some sort of a trick? To get inside information from me?" She accuses.

"What? No, no." He flusters. "I'm not even a full-fledged journalist, though I want to be. I'm only an intern."

"What the hell. I can't believe this. I'm so stupid." She says, hands covering her face and then bunching up her hair.

"Get out of my house!" She screams.

"It's not a trick, I promise." He says. "You're – you're not stupid. I'm genuinely attracted to you. You have the most beautiful brown eyes, you know." He tries, reaching out to tug a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling her retreat from his touch. "I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. If it means so much to you, I'll quit my job."

"But we've only known each other for a few hours." She mutters, crossing her arms, still refusing to look at him.

"I know. But if that's the only way I can prove to you that I'm not a sly fox, then, I will."

"But it's your dream."

"Dreams can change." He shrugs. "Do you trust me?"

She looks up at him. Every ounce in her body is screaming: no, don't trust him. He'll only hurt you like the others. She finds her weakness is his hazel eyes. They're really kind eyes, she thinks. Like the ones you see on puppies.

"Okay." She whispers. "I-I trust you."

He beams and brings their lips together again. "Guess I gotta go call my boss in the morning."

"No don't." She says, reaching out for his arm. "I don't want you to throw away your dream because of me."

"Bu-"

"It's okay." She smiles, stroking his freckles. "I trust you."

a/n: reviews are love! stay strong everyone. if you need someone to talk to, i'm here. :)