Okay, this is basically a series of drabbles I wrote all at different times, then just sorta mashed them together to make the sloppy beginnings of a one-shot. So if it's a mess and makes no sense, you know why. I hope you enjoy it all the same though!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or Chicago, or Cracker, or Rachel Berry, or anything else but the laptop I'm writing this on. Cuz that's mine.

R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R&R AGAIN!

"Rachel would you like to sing for us?"

"Not particularly, no."

"W-what? Come on Rachel just a song to get us started."

"Look, Mr. Schuester, I was hit by three slushies today all at separate times. I had to change into three different pairs of clothes and my underwear is still completely soaked. People are always complaining that I sing too much anyway, so just go ahead a let them sing something, I'm really just not feeling up to it." Mr. Schue stared at her for a long minute.

"Okay Rachel, you can go home if you need to. It's been a long day." Without another word Rachel rose from her chair and exited the choir room.

She was just in one of those moods. One of those moods were you can only listen to a single song, over and over again, without it really bothering you. One of those songs that's slow and sad, and you have turn it down real low, plug your headphones in, and whisper the words, just because it wouldn't be right to say them any louder.

I know the whiskey; it won't soothe my soul,

And the morphine won't heal my heart,

But if you take me down to the infirmary,

Oh yeah,

I won't have to sleep,

Or drink alone…

Rachel Berry didn't have friends.

Not that she didn't want them. She just, didn't need them. They were a waste of time, just nice people soon to be abandoned because if Broadway. It was really just nicer to not have people grow attached. She thinks she could have friends if she tried. She just didn't like to try. It was tiring and pointless, and who needed friends that fought against you so hard? She could have friends, just the right kind.

But no, she doesn't have a girl to tell her secrets to, or stay up late with, or do whatever it is girls do when their best friends. Of course, she loves the whole idea. She's watched almost ever cheesy friendship movie known to man, she's a master at slumber party games, and she's already prepared days upon days of fun things to do when she finally found someone who fit the bill. She just hasn't found that person yet. (She wonders if she ever will)

She knows that there are a lot of people in Glee club that would be good candidates for her new best friend. And she knows she would be a good friend to them because she already has. When Artie lost his legs, she was the only New Directions member that went to the hospital to visit him, (despite the fact he barely knew her). She was there when Puck's father left, (despite the fact he hated her) and she held Kurt as he cried over the loss of his mother (despite the fact he kept telling her to just leave). She had told Finn the truth (despite the consequences), and made it obvious to Quinn and all the others that when they needed her, she'd be there. She'd forgiven them for all of their mistakes, and she'd seen all of them cry. So she can't help but wonder why they just yelled at her when she finally did.

Was it really her fault Jesse was using her? Did they think she had wanted him to? Didn't they realize that it hurt her just a little bit more at the moment? She guesses now they didn't, because all she heard were cries of "I told you so," and screams of "You should have known better," And she thinks that might be what hurts the most, because really, she should have known better.

But at the time, she couldn't help it. His eyes were mystifying, and his voice so beautiful she could cry. He treated her well, (for the most part), and he was one of the only ones who even pretended he cared. How could she not have believed him? He was so sweet, and so charming, and he bended words in a way where they just came out sounding so right, she couldn't help but be fooled.

All the boys she ever liked had broken her heart one way or another. And she couldn't even find the decency to be mad at any of them. Because Finn had been so sweet, so gentle, and so sorry. She saw him like a big friendly giant, walking around, crushing things without meaning to, and you just couldn't hate him.

Finn was special. Puck wasn't.

But she still counted him. Because though she may not have been in love with Noah Puckerman when they had dated, and though she felt absolutely nothing when she looked into his eyes, he did break off a tiny piece of her heart. Just a little. Because she thought maybe, maybe she found someone who would understand, maybe she finally found a friend. But he just walked away with another smart remark, and her heart broke. Just a little bit.

Like everything is Rachel's life, her moral compass was spot on. She knew what was right, she knew what was wrong, and she had no trouble at all when it came to obeying it. It was just sometimes, she had trouble controlling it.

Watching Mercedes get up on the stage, it inspired her, and for a second she understood. It wasn't about how she sang; it was about what she sang, and what she was singing. It didn't matter if she hit every note just right, or if the choreography (in this case none) was perfect. And she just had to get up and sing with her, along with everyone else. And up on that stage, (ground), looking around, she didn't see mocking faces or sneers, only tear stained eyes and smiles.

She watched Mercedes sing her piece and she understood the power she put into her words, and she realized what an amazing person she really was. And she understood why everyone adored her, and why the crowd couldn't just shrug that off and slushy her. Because this song, and the way she was singing it, was special.

And when the song was over, the roar was earsplitting, as she stayed wrapped in Jesse's arms without realization. She watched while Kurt went up to Mercedes and told her he was sorry, and that she was right. She saw the look Quinn and she shared and her heart gave a little beat at the newfound friendship. She saw Puck standing their regardless of any reputation at all and a small part of her felt proud.

Glee had softened Rachel Berry's heart. But when she went home she still set her alarm for six in the morning, and dressed herself in argyle and knee socks. Because it hadn't changed anything.

Because from six a.m. until the time she went to bed, she was still showered with insults and slushies, still catching grief for her clothes, her appearance, and her attitude. And when she looked up at her bully's face and vaguely recognized them from singing in the gym, she wondered how anyone who sang that song could be so hypocritical. Because everyone who had sang that song had given support, telling Mercedes she was beautiful, and Rachel sang along because she thought she was too. In fact that's what everyone was singing about, being proud of yourself.

And Rachel was proud of herself, every tiny part. In fact she told herself every day how lucky she was and how great. Then she'd go to school, and they'd all tell her how much she wasn't.

So yes, she admits, in the flurry of emotions she had felt in that particular assembly, jealously was one of them. Rachel herself could never get up on a stage and sing her heart out like that, and actually expect people to care. Because every day she sang her heart out, and nothing. No compliments, no support. Just a simple, "Good as always Rachel.", from Mr. Schue, a sneer from Santana, and a complaint that she always got the solos from Mercedes or Kurt.

She didn't get Kurt. She just didn't. She thinks that they're too similar to not be friends. They're both attention seeking-divas with a very defined taste in fashion. She thinks that if they weren't in glee, they could be friends, but they are in Glee, so they aren't. Somehow they're always competing with each other. And most of the time, Kurt wins.

And it sucks. And it would hit her a million times in a million different places, but she would smile, because she had to. She'd walk out of Glee with her head held high, and when she got slushied she keep walking, clean herself off and keep going. And when she'd get home she'd look in the mirror and sing just a little louder, and just a little harder then she needed to, because maybe then it would be okay.

She got by. She'd keep going through everything they shot at her, and she'd just think "I don't need any of them, I'll be past this one day."

But sometimes, she thinks to herself, maybe if she had a friend, it wouldn't hurt so much.

She could retaliate if she wanted to. She could yell and kick and scream and punch, but would it really make a difference? If she just kneed Karofsky in the groin every time he slushied her would he stop? First of all she'd probably be expelled if she even tried. And just think how disappointed her dad's would be! She'd lose all chances at a scholarship with no family to support her, and without a proper Julliard education she'd never make it to Broadway and---

And that was her problem. She thought too much. She over thought it all. She didn't act without planning every move, she didn't talk without memorizing all the lines.

She was too controlling. She was too small. She was too scared. She was too talkative. She was too everything. Too nice, too happy, too emotional, but they just didn't get it. She was an actor, of course she was emotional. But that was just the thing, they didn't get her.

Maybe that's why they didn't like her.

She had this single, reoccurring dream. She had it almost every night. It started out like a normal Glee club rehearsal, only she wasn't there. Finn would be laughing and doing something silly, Mercedes and Kurt gossiping in the corner. Mr. Schue would then tap his sheet music on the piano and ask "Where's Rachel?" On her cue, she would walk in, only she looked different. Her legs were long and tan, her hair glossy, her brown eyes hidden by a pair of movie star sunglasses. She looked good.

She'd strut in the room and tell them all in a smug voice of her recent Broadway audition. She'd tell them how she got in, and how slowly but surely, her schedule was beginning to fill up for the next five or so years. She'd grin like a madman and tell them in a voice soft as velvet how sorry she was she'd be leaving them short a member. She'd blow them a kiss and walk out the doorway to her new life of stardom.

Rachel Berry dreamed of winning.

Which only made her more determined each day. It only made her sing with even more passion and walk a little bit faster, because she was close, so very close to winning. To getting that dream.

Because dream Rachel was everything Rachel wanted to be. She was beautiful, and no one could deny it. She was popular and everyone loved her. She was famous and wanted and amazing and just... perfect.

Rachel Berry wanted to be perfect.

But you didn't need friends to be perfect. No, in fact, you could not have friends if you were perfect. It just wasn't allowed. Perfection was not something that could be shared; it was something that had to be earned. She knew that much.

Every time she won another competition her father's would tell her how to do better. (It didn't bother her that they never said she did good enough already) They would train her and try to make her perfect.

Maybe that's why Glee club irritated her. They never taught her how to be perfect. They never tried to perfect her. They tried to hit her down more and more because somehow, her being perfect? It bothered them. But Rachel didn't get discouraged. She didn't let that get in the way. Rachel Berry longed to be perfect.

She only wishes maybe someone would tell her she already was.

Watching Chicago made her sad. Maybe it was some twisting trick of fate, but whenever it was on television, whenever she decided to watch it, and whenever she pressed play it would always be on the same number.

I am my own best friend…

And watching that just upset her to no end. Maybe she didn't have friends, but she didn't have only herself to resort to. She didn't find herself to be anything like Roxie or Velma. She wasn't deceiving, cruel, or in prison.

It was a wonderful musical of course. The choreography was great, and she could often be found humming 'All that Jazz' under her breath. It was the inner, deeper meaning of the play that bummed her out.

Particularly that line at the end.

"It would never work."

"Why?"

"Because I hate you."

"There's only one business in the world where that's no problem at all."

Showbiz. She didn't agree with that. Acting was a wonderful business full of overly emotional people with nothing but feelings, and love, and friendship. Actors depended on each other to carry on the performance, to do things right, it was all based on trust, dedication, and coffee.

She doesn't think anyone could work so well with someone they hated. But then she remembered her current position, and where her Glee club stood, and she decided maybe Velma Kelly wasn't so wrong after all.

So take me down, to the infirmary,

And lay me down, on cotton sheets.

And put a damp cloth, on my forehead,

And lay me down, and let me sleep.

Her phone buzzed, lighting up with a text message, and she almost smiled. But then she read it.

Kurt: i have sheet music 4 u, u cant b slackin off.

They didn't care about her and her well being. She got that. But every time she thought maybe they'd start to, they let her down again. She'd get used to it. But she did care about them, and if they cared about her. She'd learn not to.

She walked into Glee two days later, recharged, back and ready. She didn't need them.

"Rachel, you wanna start us off?" Mr. Schue asked, to which she nodded and came up to the front of the room. "You can do a duet if you want." She only smiled and shook her head.

"I fly solo."