1 in a Million
Her neighborhood looked like something out of a video game. And not the happy kind of game—the kind where a psycho was about to pop out at you and eat your internal organs. Flea ridden dogs wandering the streets, newspapers blowing down deserted alleyways, neon lights flickering from liquor shops…. Rachel had finally figured out where they probably shot post-apocalyptic movies.
She'd graduated that May, and even though she'd only been out for three months, that was long enough time for everyone to gang up on her. Apparently everyone had been under the same impression as her—that she'd be starring on Broadway a week and a half after graduation, if not sooner. When that didn't happen, it was open season.
"How's the acting research going? You're practicing for waitress roles, right?"
"All that money went to good use. How's Starbucks?"
"Developed that starving artist whiskey habit yet?"
"I bet you wish you'd gotten a useful degree now."
She'd handled all of it with grace, with the exception of Finn's "I told you so" followed by a marriage proposal. She'd thrown the ring at him, hitting him directly between the eyes. To be fair, she'd had a long day leading up to that…. Still, she'd learned not to bring up any of her acting prospects. She still fully believed in her dream…she was just struggling through the nightmare part.
She stopped about a block away from her apartment and popped into her favorite sandwich shop. She could only afford to eat out about twice a month, and today had been shit enough to warrant one.
"Hi Sal!" she chirped, watching the portly man wipe the counter down. Full colonies of bacteria were probably following the bacon crumbs and lettuce into the trashcan.
"My little Rachel! Tiny Diva Special?"
She grinned and nodded. Sal was one of the only people in the world who didn't make fun of her goals. He'd heard her sing in the park one day and named the place's only vegan sandwich after her. The Tiny Diva Special had spicy vegan mustard, tomato, lettuce, cucumbers, hot peppers, avocado, pickles, olives and sprouts. It was delicious (no matter what Kurt said).
"How's work?" he asked.
"It's work. Everyone decided to take grumpy pills today, so I'm pretty happy to have a day off tomorrow."
"Aye," he said simply. He wrapped the sandwich and handed it to her. "On the house," he added with a wink.
"Oh Sal, I can't—"
"Sure you can, tiny diva. If this place had a loyalty card, you'd have earned at least two by now. You have a good day off."
"Thanks."
She smiled the rest of the way home. Her tiny apartment was nice and warm for once, thanks to her dads' angry letter to the landlord. And when she got in, there was a vase of roses on the table. She sighed. It was probably Finn again.
But it wasn't.
She picked up the card and laughed. "Santana." The older girl was at Columbia for law school. They couldn't hang out as much as they wanted because of their schedules, but they talked at least twice a day. It was obvious that it was from Santana, because she was the only one who insisted on writing in text-speak to Rachel.
Hey Rach!
I no u have an audition cuming up. Gd lck! U r 1 in a mlln, remember that.
~S
Rachel smiled and sat down to enjoy her sandwich. Life was tough at the moment, but it was nice to know she still had people who believed in her.