Authors note:
This is just a oneshot. Thanks for reading! If you want, tell me what you think (:
Summary: Rachel and Jesse spend an afternoon playing twenty questions. Jesse is still in Vocal Adrenaline, and Rachel is still in New Directions.
20 Questions:
Rachel and Jesse had been dating for awhile but they still didn't know everything about each other. Jesse was still in Vocal Adrenaline, and Rachel was still in New Directions.
It was a Saturday afternoon when Rachel and Jesse decided to play a little game to get to know each other better.
Rachel and Jesse resided in Jesse's bedroom. The contrast between Rachel's tan legs against Jesse's solid black comforter was drastic. It was Rachel's second time being in Jesse's house, and her first time siting on his bed. She was the only one on his bed, though.
Jesse decided to sit in his black armchair, which was located a couple feet away from his bed. He felt like if he sat next to her, her long legs would distract him, and cause him to seem unfocused.
Jesse's bedroom was a lot like Jesse: visually appealing, yet very secretive. He had royal blue walls and a basic light brown carpeting. There were no decorations on his walls. Unlike Rachel's room, he didn't showcase his love for music where visitors could see it. He hid his passion. Not that he was ashamed of his voice; it was his pride and joy. But his parents weren't exactly pleased with his future career goals.
There was very large bookshelf that covered at least a whole wall of his bedroom. On his bookshelf, that was where his secrets were kept. He had three shelves dedicated to CDs and movies, along with another shelf for books.
Jesse's house in comparison to Rachel's was very large. Rachel had one of the biggest houses in Lima. Jesse's house was easily three times the size of hers. He had given her a tour the first time she had seen his house; it took thirty minutes to go through the entire house.
This time, though, Rachel and Jesse went straight to the kitchen to grab a couple drinks, and then they made their way up to Jesse's room.
The room was silent until Rachel suggested something that would take over the rest of the day: "Want to play twenty questions? Like the game where we ask each other twenty questions."
"Don't you think we're a little old to be playing '20 questions'?"Jesse asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.
"Of course not," Rachel frowned.
"Okay, well, do we have to ask each other exactly twenty questions? It will be Monday by the time we finished asking questions, knowing how much we both like to talk about ourselves," Jesse joked, half smiling at her. She chuckled quietly.
"We can keep asking each other questions until we get bored. Maybe telling stories will help us get to know each other better. I'm still trying to figure you out, Jesse St. James."
"Likewise, Rachel Barbra Berry," Jesse smirked at the brunette who was only taking up a fourth of his bed.
"Wait? Can we answer a question with a question?" Jesse asked.
"Only if you are asking a question about the other person's question. You can't ask a rhetorical question or something."
"What rules are we playing by?" Jesse asked
"Mine," she said. Jesse smiled at her eyes that seemed to be challenging him. He nodded in recognition.
"Okay. Well, do you want to start, or should I?" Rachel questioned.
"I'll start," Jesse told her. He took a sip of his bottle of water, and cleared his throat.
"Why did you start singing?" He asked her, expecting a half an hour explanation from the short girl whom he learned loved to talk.
"Well, my dads put me in dancing classes and voice lessons before I was even a one year old. In the next six years, my love for dancing and singing and acting began to build up. I watched Funny Girl for the first time when I was seven. That was when I knew I wanted to sing. For my ninth birthday, my dads took me to see Into the Woods on Broadway. That day, I became certain that I wanted to be on Broadway. I decided that I would do anything and everything that it takes to get there," Rachel told him.
"Jesse, why did you start singing?" She asked.
Jesse smirked before he started to to talk.
"I'm glad that you asked. When I was about ten, I read a biography about Stephen Sondheim. I checked it out of my school's library for a school project. We had to read a biography or an autobiography on anyone we wanted to, and present what we had read to our class. I had never heard of him before that day, but The librarian suggested it to me. My whole life changed when I discovered him. I couldn't stop listening to everything he had written. All of his lyrics kind of spoke to me. I remember closing that biography, and popping in the album from Sweeney Todd I had bought for myself. I stole money from my parents in small increments, and I bought the album. They didn't even notice. Well, I mean, they never really noticed anything. Anyway, I performed 'My Friends' from Sweeney Todd for an audition of the role of Seymour in the Little Shop of Horrors at the community theater here in Akron. They told me I was great, but I looked too young for the part. When I auditioned, there was so much reverence and sensuality in that moment. I remember it so well. That was the day I decided to dedicate my life to singing, and to sharing my talent with people who don't have any. I decided that I was going to decorate my life with dignity. With passion and verve forever," Jesse explained using hand gestures that matched his ebullience.
"That's interesting," Rachel commented.
"Really?"
"No," Rachel deadpanned.
Jesse looked surprised, and slightly hurt.
"I'm just kidding, Jesse. I never pegged you for the kind of guy who would audition for the Little Shop of Horrors."
"I was eleven! It's a great play, though. Don't even deny it," Jesse crossed his arms.
"Okay, you're right."
"I know I am. It's your turn, Rachel."
"Question two: what was the greatest song ever written?" She asked.
"Bohemian Rhapsody," Jesse answered immediately.
"Why?" She asked curiously, moving on the bed so that she was laying on her front side, with her face toward Jesse and her ankles crossed.
"I love Queen. The song is genius. It has different melodies: opera, rock, R&B. It's authentic and it feels natural."
"Okay. That's true, I guess."
"What about you?" He asked.
"I think I have to agree with you on this one. I don't normally follow what other people say, but you do have a valid point. Plus I can't think of any songs that could qualify."
"If you couldn't think of any songs that qualified, why did you ask the question?"
"You're such a cynic," she laughed. "I was curious to hear your answer. I'm not as selfish as I seem."
"I am not cynical," Jesse defended himself, smiling.
"If you say so," she giggled.
"Whatever. It's my turn," Jesse said.
"Wait...um, can you come sit on your bed with me?" Rachel asked him "I feel like we're sitting unnecessarily far away from each other."
"I sat over here so I wouldn't be tempted."
"By what?"
"By you," He said, smiling at her face that was turning red.
"Oh, well I want you to sit over here. It's your bed," she said.
He got up an climbed next to her. He leaned his back against the head board, and she did the same thing.
"Okay. My turn," Jesse said.
"So this is the third question: what was the first moment in life you remember?" Jesse asked after they both got situated.
Rachel took a little while to think of an answer.
"I remember when I was first grade I think, my teacher, Mrs. Herndon, she wanted all of us to make cards for Mother's Day, since it was like the day of, or the day before Mother's Day. So when she told us to make the card, I refused, since I didn't have a mother. My teacher got mad at me for not participating. I yelled at her, and she called my dads and they picked me up and took me out of school. What about you?" She said.
"Well," Jesse had to think for a moment. "When I was like six, and my brother Eric was like ten, we had this babysitter. She was like in her twenties and her name was Jessica. She locked both off us in the room we shared for the night without food, for no reason at all. We tried to tell our mom, but our mom didn't believe us. She used the same babysitter like five times, and one time, She finally came home early and heard us yelling. I don't know why, but that's the first thing I can remember. We were locked in this room, actually. After Eric left, this became my room."
"That sounds awful," Rachel said.
"So did yours. I was trying to balance the awfulness."
Rachel laughed.
"My turn. This is number four?" She asked. He nodded.
"Okay. What's something about yourself that would otherwise take six months to learn?" Rachel asked.
"Um, when I cry, my eyes look very green. Normally, they're blue. I don't know why, but it's always been like that."
"Now I kind of want to see you cry."
"I haven't cried in a while."
"If you do, take a picture."
"No," Jesse laughed. "What about you?"
"I spend half an hour every morning with my moisturizing routine," Rachel said. She laughed when his eyes bulged out a little.
"It's not that weird. Some girls spend hours."
"Yeah, okay," Jesse shook his head.
"Number five. Do you ever feel underrated?"
"What do you mean? Like as a singer?" Rachel asked, confused. Rachel usually felt underrated and neglected by her other peers.
"No. As a person. Like low self esteem," he replied, looking into her eyes.
"...No," Rachel said, hoping he couldn't see through her. But he could. He always could.
"Liar," he smirked playfully.
"What do you wish you could change about yourself?" He rephrased the question, catching her a little off guard.
"Loneliness," She told him, biting her lip, hoping he didn't judge her. His expression softened for a second, but then he became serious again.
"Those people who try to criticize you are just jealous, Rachel," he said. He was aware of the people at her school who tried to claim that she wasn't destined for greatness. She smiled at his attempt to help.
"Before, when I asked if you felt underrated, I meant physically, though. You can change loneliness; you can't change your genes," he said, backtracking.
"Why do you want to know?" She avoided his question.
"You can't answer a question with a question. And I'm just curious. If we're in a relationship, don't you think we should know what we both hate about ourselves?"
Rachel barked out a laughed at the question.
"I guess," she sighed.
"I don't really like my nose," she admitted, blushing.
Her answer had made his eyebrows scrunch together like caterpillars.
"But why? That's the best part about you. You're beautiful," he blurted. Jesse's words made Rachel smile and blush.
"Thank you. It's just because so many people make fun of me for it."
"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely.
"What do you not like about yourself, Jesse?" She asked, smirking at him, wanting to know his answer.
"This is a really masochistic conversation," Jesse laughed, staring at the girl who was laying next to him.
"You started it, Jesse. Now answer the question," she smiled.
"I don't like my hair," Jesse said.
Rachel looked at him, confused.
"It reminds me of my dad," he said.
Although Jesse didn't look at her, he continued to talk.
"I have similar hair as him, except his is a little darker. I kind of hate my dad. He's a traveling salesman, and he treats my mom like she's incompetent or something. He never lays a finger on her, but his anger is just as bad as abuse. He is angry all of the time. His fury fills the house for like weeks at a time, and it seems hard to breathe. He grinds his teeth when he's angry, and I can hear it even when we're in different rooms. He probably tells himself that because he never touches my mom, he isn't an abuser. But he puts so much tension into my family, I could argue otherwise."
"But I honestly don't care anymore. Their relationship is too messed up to try to change. My relationship with them is to messed up too," he told her, staring up at the ceiling, letting everything off of his chest.
He cleared his throat.
Rachel didn't know what to say, so she decided to kiss his cheek.
"Sorry," he said. "That was more about why I hate my dad than why I hate myself."
"No, it's fine," Rachel said."I'll try to lighten the mood on my turn."
"Okay," he smiled.
"Question six. Why do you live where you do?" She asked him.
"My mom grew up here. I don't know why we live here of all places, since most of the time, my parents aren't even home. I think the only good thing about this town is my school. I'm definitely moving somewhere else than Ohio for college," Jesse told her. "What about you?"
"Well my dads both grew up in Lima. I mean, if I could choose, Lima would be the last place I would choose to live. I love it, though, because I grew up there. But it's so insignificant. They have their own school system. Lima is such an insignificant town, it's painful to live in. I'm going to New York for college, and I'm going to live there. I'm probably going to be Lima's biggest success story. In history. It's kind of sad when you think about it," she laughed, thinking about it.
He nodded, smiling at the brunette that radiated confidence.
"Question seven. What turns you on?" He asked, smirking.
She rolled her eyes.
"Seriously. I want to know."
She smiled. "Confidence. A Great voice. Being caring, intelligent, and supportive. Guys that take charge," she said, looking at him.
"I think you just described me."
Rachel scoffed. "I can't believe you just said that," she giggled.
"What? I'm your boyfriend. I should turn you on," he said, grinning when her face started to turn red.
"You do turn me on," She said. "Wait, I didn't mean that- I mean, I did, but.." her cheeks were hot and she could tell he knew she was embarrassed.
"You're cute when you're uncomfortable," he laughed.
"Thank you," she smiled, looking away from him. "Your turn. What turns you on?"
"You."
"I knew you were going to say that," she laughed.
He smirked, and kisses her lips seriously.
"All jokes aside, You seriously do turn me on. I mean, I didn't even sit on the bed with you at first," he pointed out.
"That's true."
"Number eight. How many girlfriends have you had in the past? She asked him.
"I have had 5," he told her. Her surprise was obvious.
"They weren't serious. Three of the breakups were mutual, because we just weren't compatible," he said. She nodded.
He smirked. "How many girlfriends have you had?" He repeated her questions. She fake-glared at him. "That's not funny."
"Okay. How many boyfriend have you had?"
"Well, like one and a half. Two and a half, including you."
"What is a half boyfriend?"
"I mean that I'm not sure if we were dating or not. It happened at summer camp, but I think it was just kissing. Nevermind," she said. He looked at her in an amused way.
"Number 9," he said. "What's your favorite color?"
After he asked the question, she laughed. "Are you kidding me? I feel like the longer we talk, the less intellectually stimulating our conversation is becoming."
"Conversations that aren't intellectually stimulating aren't always boring. Answer the question. What is your favorite color?" He said.
"Pink. And gold, but that is just because of gold stars. Mostly pink."
"Mhm."
"And you?"
"Navy blue. I don't really like bright colors that much."
"I can see that," she said, referring to his bedroom that was covered with navy blue and black.
"Okay," she said. "My turn. Number ten. What is something you wish you didn't know?"
"That my dad has been cheating on my mom for five years."
"What?" Rachel asked in shock.
"I don't understand why my father hates my mother, since he is the one who has been having an affair for the past five years. I caught them kissing when I was like twelve. I cried a lot. My mom still doesn't know. My brother and my sister don't know either."
"Jesse, that's horrible."
"Yeah. I'm okay, though. What about you? What's something you wish you didn't know?"
"I wish I didn't know what getting slushied feels like."
"How does it feel?"
"It's repsulsive. It's sticky and freezing and it stings if it gets in your eyes. The worst part is the embarrassment though. Like when people just stare and laugh. I hate it."
"I'm sorry."
"Thanks, I guess."
Jesse nods.
"Okay, uh, this is eleven I think. What is the worst thing you ever said to your parents when you were angry at them?"
"I told them that I hated that they were gay. I told them that I wished I could have a mom, like a normal kid. I was like seven, and they both got really upset. It made them cry. But I apologized, and everything turned out okay."
"That's good."
"Mhm? What about you?"
"I told my dad to go fuck himself."
"Jesse!"
"What? He deserved it. He's an awful man."
"Yeah, sorry."
"No, it's okay.
"It's my turn. Question twelve. Why did you come approach me when we first met?"
"That's not really a question I can ask you, though."
"I don't care. I want to know why."
"You were beautiful. When I heard you sing at sectionals, when I saw you, I wanted to sing with you so badly," Jesse admitted, clearing his throat. Rachel smiled at him.
"Okay. Well, why do you like me? That question will suffice."
Rachel smiled. "Because you're smart and you have a great voice. And you're extremely attractive and sometimes funny," she said.
"Okay. Question thirteen. What is your favorite food?" Jesse asked.
"Daddy makes this delicious vegan pizza. It's amazing," she told him.
"I love fresh pineapples."
"Wow, really? That's kind of a weird favorite food," Rachel said.
"Excuse me, mrs. vegan pizza."
"Don't make fun of my food choices!" Rachel defended herself.
"Then don't make fun of mine," Jesse said, looking amused at the girl he was sharing his bed with.
"Whatever. Question fourteen. What is your dream college?" Rachel asked, siting up on his bed to face him.
"Well, I applied to NYADA, but I didn't get in. I got accepted into UCLA, as you already know. It's not really my dream school, but I got in with a full ride, so I'm okay with it, I guess," Jesse told her. "What about you, Rachel?"
"I think I want to go to NYADA. Or Tisch. That would be amazing," Rachel told him. "But I'm still a sophomore, so I have a while to decide."
"Okay. Are you ready? This is going to be extremely perplexing," Jesse told her.
"Number fifteen. How tall are you?"
"Jesse!" She shrieked. "That's offensive."
"How is it offensive? I only asked for your height. It's not like I asked you how much you weigh."
"It's offensive because you know I am short. For your information, I am 5' 2, and I am proud. How tall are you, Mr. St. James?"
Jesse barked out a laugh at the girl next to him. She was crossing her arms.
"5'11," he told her. She huffed. He wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her. "I think you look adorable." She rolled her eyes at him.
"My turn. Number sixteen. Describe a moment when you used your acting skills to your advantage in real life," Rachel said.
"Well, I convinced a freshman in Vocal Adrenaline that when people pass out during rehearsals, we use them as props." Rachel opened her mouth in shock.
"That's actually kind of funny," she admitted.
"I know. When did you use your acting skills?"
"I fake cried to my school's principal. I told Principal Figgins that our glee Club director the time, Mr. Ryerson, was molesting this kid. Mr. Ryerson was kind of a pedophile. I only told on him, because he kept giving Hank all of my solos. Anyway, I got him fired," Rachel smiled when Jesse's eyes widened.
"Wow. You're almost as cool as I am."
Rachel lightly smacked his chest.
"Okay. Question seventeen. What is your biggest fear?" Jesse asked.
"That I won't make it to broadway," Rachel said immediately.
"You will! If I believe in you, then everyone else should too," Jesse said.
"My biggest fear is that my child won't be able to sing."
"What?" Rachel laughed.
"I had a dream that I had a child. There wasn't a mother in the dream, but my kid looked like a little version of me. And he was tone deaf! I would be so ashamed."
"There is no way that your kid could be tone deaf. Unless you marry someone with an awful voice."
"Trust me. I won't," Jesse laughed.
"Eighteen. What religion are you? I'm just curious," Rachel said.
"I'm an Atheist."
"I'm Jewish."
"I know," Jesse laughed. Rachel nudged him.
"Are your parents Atheists, or was it your choice?"
"It was my own choice. I'm going to be blunt. It's okay if you judge me; I don't know how into your religion you are. Sorry if I sound rude. I just think that religion is meant for people who aren't smart enough to understand how the world works. They aren't realists. I think that they're so scared of being small and insignificant, that they need someone to tell them how special and important they really are," Jesse said.
"My dad was an atheist before he married my daddy. Daddy's a Jew, and my dad agreed to raise me Jewish. We're not super religious though. I don't feel extremely protective or connected to my religion," Rachel told him. He nodded.
"Number nineteen. What is your favorite thing about yourself? Besides your voice."
"Well, I am very smart. I like that I am determined to push through things that get in my way. What about you?" Rachel turned her body to face him.
"I'm charming," Jesse smirked.
"You can't call yourself charming!"
"I just did," Jesse smirked at her.
"Okay. I get to ask the last question." Rachel said.
"Can I kiss you?" Rachel asked, looking up at him through her long eyelashes.
"You don't have to ask," Jesse told her. He moved so that his face was inches from hers.
"I like this game," Jesse told her before he crashed his lips to hers. After a while, they broke apart from the kiss.
"So do I," Rachel grinned, pecking his lips with a quick kiss.