Are you blind?
Can't you see me standing here waiting in line
For you.

The next Friday Rachel had invited Finn to a cast outing at a bar near Columbus Circle after her show. He'd jumped at the opportunity because he rarely saw her other than the times she would take the subway out to his apartment or the even rarer times he would take the subway to hers.

He'd seen her show more times than she realized but he'd accepted her offer for a ticket graciously and sat anonymously in the audience, proudly watching her in her element. He had twisted the playbill in his hands and mouthed the words along with her as she sang. He was ridiculously impressed by her, which was really nothing new. He stood with the rest of the audience when she gave her curtain call and smiled when she locked her eyes on his and tugged on her earlobe, the secret sign of affection that they had used since her first performances at NYU.

As the red velvet curtain closed across the stage he followed the stream of people into the lobby. Finn quickly made his way onto the busy street and hailed the first taxi he saw. He gave the address of the bar to the cabbie and leaned back in his seat for the short drive. When they arrived he thanked and paid the driver and stood on the sidewalk, studying his destination.

Bamboo 52.

He walked inside and sat down at the bar, which was moderately crowded. The bartender noticed him immediately and came to take his order. He ordered a bowl of miso soup (Rachel's influence, obviously) and a coke and he waited.

Two hours later he was still waiting.

Finally, at 2:15am, the doors swung open and Rachel's strong laughter hit his ear. She stumbled into the bar, her arm linked with one of her co-stars whose name he couldn't remember, singing a rather rousing rendition of '99 Bottles of Beer'.

"I need one of those!" She announced, throwing her arms into the air.

She slammed her hands down onto the bar and shouted out her order. When the aforementioned beer was delivered she chugged it greedily. Only then did she notice him.

"Finn?" She squeaked, letting out a small burp and dissolving into giggles. "What are you doing here?"

He glared at her. "You invited me."

"I did?" She sobered slightly under his angry stare. "Oh shit, I did. Oh Finn I'm so, so sorry. I was backstage getting changed after the show and Riley suggested that we stop by Vintage real quick so we did. They have the best martinis." She smiled at him and reached out to run a finger against his denim covered thigh. "I don't even remember saying anything about this place. Isn't that weird?"

Still keeping his face solemn, Finn reached into his jacket and produced the paper Rachel had given to him the night prior. It had Bamboo 52 and the address written in her neat penmanship.

"Whoops."

Without saying a word Finn pulled his wallet out and threw a few bills onto the bar. He shook his head slightly at her and stood up, brushing past her and her friends.

"Finn!" She called after him. "Finn!"

Are you mine?
Not just when you wanna be, all of the time?
Are you?

He stopped and turned to watch her hurrying down the hallway towards him. She reached for his arm and pulled him into a smaller, dimly lit passage which he assumed lead to the bathrooms or some sort of storage. When they were convincingly hid in the shadows Rachel pushed him against the wall and covered his mouth with hers. Even though Finn tried, when she groaned and wrapped her arms around his waist, rubbing her body suggestively against his, he thought 'screw it' and gave into her. She snaked her hands underneath his jacket and dress shirt and sighed as her hands met his skin. His hand rose to the back of her head, forcing her mouth tighter against his and he prayed that he would never need oxygen ever again.

Of course that wasn't the case.

They broke apart, breathing huskily, and Rachel looked over her shoulder towards the laughter trickling out from the bar.

Finn reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Go," he whispered.

She stuck her lips out in a pout and leaned against his chest. "Only if you come with me."

He sighed and traced his fingers over the length over her back. He wasn't going back into the bar. He didn't want to. He didn't fit in with Rachel's professional world at all. Lima, Ohio Rachel and New York City Rachel were two completely different people. Well, maybe they weren't that different but the circumstances surrounding them were as different as night and day. He never really missed high school except for the fact that it had made it much easier to be with Rachel.

Maybe he missed it more than he thought.

She glanced between the hallway that lead back to the bar and his face, her hands still firmly planted against his skin.

"Come on, the guys are great and I promise to show you how I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue!" She grinned and leaned in to rake her tongue and teeth against his neck.

Finn groaned and pushed on her shoulders, desperate to get some distance between them. Five minutes ago when she'd walked into the bar she'd forgotten all about him. She'd completely forgotten that they'd made any type of plans. All that had mattered to her was her job and being with her friends and he couldn't fault her for that, but he refused to stand by and wait until she decided she wanted him. Their part-time, only-when-convenient agreement wasn't working for him anymore.

He wanted her all of the time. He wanted her to come home to him.

And right now they were no where near that.

Are you blind?
Don't you see me standing here
Won't you tell me what it is
I'm waiting to find…

Why couldn't he just walk away? Why couldn't he live his life without her? Why couldn't she just realize?

"I, um, have a really early day tomorrow. I'm going to take a taxi home but it's still going to be well after 3 by the time I get back out to Brighton. It's a good thing I set my alarm before I left for the show tonight because 6am is sure going to come early."

He was rambling…he was well aware of that…but he needed something, anything to get him out of there.

"What are you doing so early on a Saturday?" She asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Um…surf lesson."

"It's November."

Shit.

"I….uh…have a wetsuit. It will…um…keep you warm even when the water is as cold as it is now."

Rachel looked at him, confused, her hands still fanned against his back. "What are you taking a lesson for? You know how to surf. You taught me, remember?"

Shit. Again.

"I…um…am actually teaching the lesson. Some twelve year old kid from Manhattan Beach."

Give me a reason to stay, he thought.

"Ok then." She removed her hands from him and straightened his shirt, followed by her own. "Well, thanks for coming out. I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner. Next time we plan something you'll have to text me and remind me. My mind is usually a blur after the show."

Excuses. Nothing but excuses. All he wanted was for her to tell him something real…something that mattered…but again, that didn't happen.

"I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

She placed a quick kiss on his cheek and hurried back towards the bar.

All he could do was watch her go.

He stood, motionless for a moment, before he shoved his hands into his pockets and headed towards the door. He glanced over his shoulder to see Rachel rejoining her friends. She threw her arm around one of the guys (Rodney? Ryan?) and retrieved her beer enthusiastically, raising it to her lips and tipping it back.

He was forgotten.

This was just how things were. He was going to have to get it through his thick skull if there was ever any chance of him having a life that didn't somehow involve her.

He walked out into the chilly November air and hailed a cab. He rattled his address off and climbed into the back seat.

What was he waiting for?