Yeah, '5 days' is going nowhere fast (I broke my angst button, but am sure it will fix itself soon), and I was inspired by a moment in a short story -which I can't access right now to give you the name/author because my internet is being naughty but I promise I will tell you next time...
Rachel returns to Lima after a decade long self-imposed exile to find that some things have changed, some things are exactly the same, and some things were simply never as they seemed.
Rachel Berry sat on the top step of her daddy's porch, a steaming mug of coffee chasing the chill from her hands. The bitter January weather of Lima, Ohio was in stark contrast to the LA sunshine she'd left behind her. Rachel allowed herself to be slightly hypnotised by the smoke-like tendrils drifting from the brew poised at her pursed lips, as she reflected on the blessing in disguise that had been her rejection from Juilliard. After all, it turned out several students from McKinley were heading to New York, while she was quick to accept UCLA's offer to specialise in musical theatre when she realised no-one she knew was heading to the west coast.
Her reverie was broken when her gaze, once unfocussed yet now keenly attentive, fell upon what was possibly the best looking denim-clad ass she'd ever seen. It was lean, muscular and firm looking; Rachel cocked an eyebrow and swallowed a sigh of appreciation. The owner of said ass was currently leaning under the open hood of a vintage Mustang coupe, faded and worn jeans molded to his damn near perfect rear and thighs that promised strength and stamina. Rachel blushed at the carnal direction her thoughts had taken, and rolled her shoulders as she straightened her spine, as though physically shaking off the images that had invaded her thoughts.
Focus Rachel, she lectured herself. You came back here to redeem your reputation, to prove to your daddies and the gossips down at the JCC that Rachel Berry is someone to be proud of. Stick to the plan! She let out a gasp of surprise (tainted with a smidge of outrage) when the man across the street unfolded himself from his position, scrubbing a hand over his head as he turned to reveal the devilishly handsome good looks of Noah freaking Puckerman. None other than the reason for her debauched reputation within the halls of William McKinley High School and the hallowed JCC set whose opinions her daddies valued so greatly.
Of course the ten years since she'd last laid eyes on him had treated him well. It was too much to ask that he suffer in retribution for allowing everyone to think she'd slept with him in junior year. She'd found herself alienated by her classmates, including those who she'd considered friends, who blamed her for breaking the heart of the school's golden boy (her ex-boyfriend). Then to compound the severity of the issue, she'd had to endure the whispers of the yentas at the JCC, who delighted in the opportunity to sully the name of the 'perfect' Rachel Berry by regaling all and sundry with (blatantly untrue) tales of her sexual liaison with 'that Puckerman boy'. Rachel's daddies had been so disappointed in her, and she'd failed in her endeavour to make them believe her when she'd vehemently denied the salacious rumours.
Rachel sighed. To be honest, she was tired of her daddies holding the 'Puckerman debacle' (as they referred to it, and frequently) over her head. Every time they wanted to get their way, they would rehash how she'd let them down until she gave in. At 28 she'd finally relented to their overtures to get her to move home (where,she suspected, they simply wanted to be better able to keep an eye on her), hoping that by taking over the dance school downtown and establishing herself in her own home she would be able to show the small-minded folk of her home town just what kind of person she'd grown up to be.
Rachel bit back a squeal of alarm when she realised Noah was approaching her. Shit, shit, shit! She was panicking. Seeing Noah was not part of her plan of action, and Rachel did not respond well to changes of plan.
"Noah, how lovely to see you. I didn't realise you were in Lima." She flashed her trademark 'show must go on' smile, praying that her eyes would not betray the conflicting emotions roiling through her as she faced the man who so inadvertently shaped her adulthood so far. Because, no she hadn't slept with this man back in high school, but she had wanted to. And if he'd shown any inclination, she'd have weathered the storm with him, just to be with him. Yet he'd made her look like a fool, as though he'd used her for sex, as though that was all he was after, as though he'd never had feelings for her. He'd broken her heart, and she'd learned (vowed) never to let anyone close enough to do it again.
What do you think? Do you want more? Do you want me to go back to my dayjob? Go on, review for me... *bats eyelashes beguilingly*