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"Oh God, it's finally happening." Rachel groaned with dread as she watched the removal men carrying the separated parts of Jess and Brittany's bed out of their front door, "It's official."
"What's official?" Santana frowned as she and Quinn appeared from the hallway, lugging a huge suitcase of clothes between them, "It's official that you're lazy?"
"It's official that you're the least helpful person here?" Brittany asked pointedly as she carried a large box past the girl and out of the front door.
"It's official that I'm never asking you to help us move house ever again?" Jess suggested, her chest heaving as she stepped back into the half-empty apartment.
Rachel rolled her eyes, pushing off the wall and striding across to the kitchen, "No, it's official that now all of my friends are moving to the suburbs, and I'm left in the city on my own. It's official that I'm the sad spinster of he group." She nodded, picking up a box of crockery and utensils and pushing past the girls and out of the apartment.
Brittany followed her out, pausing and turning back to grimace at the girls collected by the kitchen door.
"I did wonder whether this was one of those times where you weren't supposed to tease her." Quinn grimaced, nodding slowly.
Jess tutted, folding her arms and scowling, "Well, you could have told us that. I just joined in." She shrugged.
"Me, too." The tall blonde nodded, "I blame Santana."
"Of course you do." The girl in question rolled her eyes, before nodding to the suitcase again, "We'll talk to her downstairs. Come on, Q. Flex those biceps."
Her wife sniggered as she bent to pick up her end of the case once more, following Santana out of the door as Brittany led the way down the stairs. Jess stood in the doorway to the living room, gazing around at the bare walls and floor, all of the large furniture packed away into the waiting van. She was excited to be moving closer to Quinn and Santana, not to mention further away from the city, but she had to say she was sad to see the back of their tiny, quirky apartment.
This had never been the plan, but in hindsight she couldn't imagine it any other way. After Quinn and Santana's wedding, she and Brittany had moved back in with Rachel for a month or so, to keep her company once Sam was gone. And then they just...gravitated here. Not the apartment they had always lived in together. Not Jess' giant apartment because it was far away and fairly unwelcoming. No. They had ended up here, in this tiny, poky flat with its minuscule kitchen and stained glass window in the hall.
A noise behind made her start, and she turned to find the small brunette standing in the doorway, a tired smile on her face, "Sorry."
"Don't be daft." She shrugged, beckoning the girl with her head and wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders, "It's shit, isn't it?"
"No. It's exciting, and I'm happy for you." Rachel smiled, "You're married now, you can't live somewhere so tiny. This apartment is the kind of apartment that you live in when you're the kind of people we were five years ago."
Jess tilted her head in consideration, "Dunno like, five years ago we lived in your flat, and it was miles bigger than this."
"I never did understand why you moved in here." The girl chuckled.
"Just felt right." She shrugged, "When I got back from Cats it was the first place that we were...us again. Had to be here." Giving the girl a small squeeze, she tilted her head to rest her temple against Rachel's, "You alright, Berry?" She asked softly.
Rachel smiled sadly, but nodded, "Yeah, just feeling nostalgic. I didn't mind being in our apartment by myself so much when you guys are still around the corner, but it feels weird going back to it alone now."
"Well, just don't." She suggested nonchalantly, "Fuck it. Stay at ours after dinner? It wouldn't be the same, christening it without you banging on the wall, screaming about your wake-up call and morning routine."
Chuckling, the smaller girl pulled away, shaking her head stonily, "Absolutely no way. Being the spinster of the group is one thing, but I'm definitely too old for that."
"You're not too old for anything." Jess replied firmly, "I know we say it all the time but I really believe it when I say that there'll be someone else."
Rachel nodded steadily, "I know there will." She took a deep breath, turning to look up at their friend, "But he won't be Sam."
"No. He won't." She sighed, "But he'll be better, because he'll want the same things that you want and hopefully he won't wear socks with sandals."
"He definitely won't wear socks with sandals." Rachel giggled, "No way I'm making that mistake again."
"And remember." Jess continued seriously, giving her friend a firm nod, "It means fuck all that we're moving somewhere that actually has stairs inside the property, in a neighbourhood that we've chosen because it's in the catchment area for an amazing primar- elementary school." She corrected, rolling her eyes, "Quinn's still going to be traveling here every day for the bakery, Santana's still going to be passing through for school, Brittany will still be coming to the city for dancing and, of course, you'll still be seeing me every day for rehearsals anyway." She shrugged, "It's not going to change anything."
"I'm sure you're right." Rachel nodded, "Although, one thing will change." She gave a sad sigh, and Jess raised her eyebrows questioningly, "This is the end of our karaoke days. Now that you're all moving out of the city."
"Nah." She laughed, shaking her head, "We'll just get the train home, or all crash at your place."
"Of course you will." The smaller girl nodded, "I forgot that I'm never getting rid of you." She teased.
Jess grinned, wrapping an arm around Rachel's neck again and pulling her into a tight hug, "I fucking hope not."
They stood in silence for a few moments, the other girls appearing behind them quietly, surveying the remaining contents of the apartment.
"Wow. It seems so empty." Brittany sighed, shaking her head incredulously, "Who knew you could fit so much stuff in such a tiny apartment?"
Santana nodded thoughtfully, "I know they say that when you remove all the furniture, rooms looks bigger but...this place actually looks even smaller."
"I can't believe Brittany even fits in any of these rooms." Quinn snorted, "Like Gandalf in Bag End."
"Fucking nerd." Jess interjected.
Quinn gave a small, shamed nod, "It's genetic."
"Come on!" Rachel spun around to face the group, clapping her hands and grinning brightly, "Let's keep moving people, remember our system!"
Santana glared at Jess as she was ushered along by the tiny brunette, before reluctantly following orders. Brittany raised an eyebrow at her wife, "What did you say?"
Jess shook her head with a shrug, "I'm not really sure?"
-o-
Rachel sighed heavily. She had left Jess and Brittany to pack away their own belongings once she, Quinn and Santana had helped to re-home the majority of furniture and ornaments they had accumulated over the years. It was beginning to get dark now, and she closed down the various social media sites she was lazily scrolling through, taking a sip of her wine and allowing her head to slump back on the scatter cushions of her couch. Chewing on her lip, she glanced around guiltily before remembering with a bitter snort that she was, in fact, completely alone, before opening an Internet page once more.
This time she cringed inwardly as she clicked across to one social media site in particular, before clicking on the search bar and typing in her own name. Grimacing in worried anticipation, she waited for the results to load, suddenly remembering just why she never took part in this self-indulgence, mentally preparing herself for a barrage of insults and slander. The page quickly loaded and she peeked tentatively at the list of posts, a bashful smile spreading across her face as she scrolled through the various posts and hashtags.
#rachelberry
#toopretty
#killmenow
She grinned as she spotted a list of photographs from the press night of Company, gazing at the faces of her old co-stars fondly and reminding herself to email Ginny, which she had been promising to do for well over a month now. Another post popped up on the screen and this time her own face stared back at her, looking moody and intense despite the green makeup that covered every inch of visible skin. She chuckled to herself, remember the hours of standing it took every day to achieve the Elphaba Effect, as she liked to call it. It had been worth it.
The next was a compilation of different pictures, taken on various occasions, with the caption Favourite Musical Theatre Actresses: 3. Rachel Berry.
Well, it's not first, but I will graciously accept third. Wait until you see Love Never Dies. I'll show you third. If my vocal chords don't violently rupture before then, that is.
She grinned widely as the next picture scrolled onto the screen, a picture she recognised well after having taken it herself. Scrolling past the picture of her and the nice girl with purple hair, she scanned the caption and hashtags with a small smile.
#still the best day of my life #rachel berry #so lovely #shes honestly so sweet #hope we meet again #love her #cannot WAIT to see Love Never Dies #wicked #company #love never dies #me #my face #rachel fucking berry #!
Chuckling to herself, she clicked on to the girl's blog, desperately wracking her brain to remember the girl's name before it popped up on the screen, and she grinned. Suzy. That was her. She bookmarked the page for later, making a mental note to contact her as soon as Love Never Dies hit Broadway. There was no way she'd be able to get free tickets for the opening night - she and Jess were already stretching their liberties to the max to invite their horde of friends - but after a couple of weeks it shouldn't be a problem.
Clicking back to the previous page contentedly, she took another sip of her wine and smiled, but her face fell suddenly as the next round of posts appeared. The next was a paparazzi shot of her, walking along one of the streets that led to their (her, she corrected bitterly) neighbourhood in the sunshine, a smoothie clasped in one hand and Sam's hand surrounding her other. She was grinning up at him, squinting against the bright light as they strolled side-by-side, the boy clad in his usual garishly-printed board shorts, his tshirt stretching across his broad shoulders.
It was like a bus had veered into her chest. She sighed heavily, her good mood instantly vanishing as she scrutinised the picture. Sam's other hand was in the air, gesticulating wildly as he spoke. She could remember it vividly. He was telling her a story about one of the models he was working with who had thrown a huge tantrum, acting out all of the characters exaggeratedly and with ridiculous voices. He had had her clutching her sides with laughter before advising her to never be a diva unless she wanted to be some random employee's stupid story to tell his girlfriend. Solid advice that she still tried to adhere to.
The caption underneath read Rachel Berry's New Mystery Man? It was dated from only a month or so ago, and she shook her head bitterly, hoping to God that no one else would get this story and run with it. She supposed the story had been true, but that was a long time ago, and the last thing she needed was for anyone to start digging up old pictures and memories and thrusting them in her face.
Although to be fair, she had gone actively seeking pictures of herself. She supposed she deserved it.
"Okay..." She took a deep breath, closing the tab decisively and linking her fingers, stretching her arms out in front of her. "Let's do this."
Uneasiness curled and twisted in the pit of her stomach, but she forced it away as she took a large gulp from her glass of wine, her gaze trained on her laptop screen and opened another tab, performing another quick search and clicking the first link that appeared.
Beautiful three bed, three bath-
No. Too big.
Four bedroomed-
Far too big.
She sighed, closing the tab and opening a new one, filling out another search and taking another sip of her wine as she waited for the results to load.
Totally renovated five bedroom–
Hell no, unless I want to be rattling around like one of those scary ghost children. She shuddered.
Charming ranch located in a quiet suburb. Two bedrooms, one full bathroom. Hardwood floors, brand new roof situated in a fantastic school district.
That's more like it. She thought with a grin, flicking through the pictures and chewing thoughtfully on her lip. Switching across to her online banking, she checked the balance on her savings account and nodded to herself.
She could do it. One phone call, a viewing. She could pay up front, there'd be no way anyone would say no to her. She could do it. She could buy a house. Quinn and Santana were proof that the city links were appropriate. It wouldn't be too much of a chore commuting to the city every day for rehearsals, and she'd be so much closer to everyone.
She sighed.
She had never felt alone in New York City, even before she met Santana. The city had always been home to her, and she somehow found solace in the bustling streets full of strangers. She knew it often felt lonely to some people, but she thrived here. But was it time to throw in the towel? Everyone else was moving on with their lives, maybe she should, too.
Or was she just chasing after a life that wasn't hers? Would she even have a place in their lives if she did move closer? Or was she just being desperate and pathetic?
Oh, what the fuck am I doing? Get a grip, Rachel.
She growled under her breath, closing all of the tabs and shoving her laptop away onto the cushion beside her. Sighing heavily, she took another large gulp of her wine, draining the glass, before shaking her head and pushing herself off the couch. She gazed around her empty apartment for a moment, before nodding decisively.
"Come on. Suck it up." She murmured to herself, shaking out her tense shoulders, "What would Barbara do?" She shrugged, "Well, she certainly wouldn't sit around feeling sorry for herself." Pulling her phone from her pocket, she scrolled down until she found the contact she was looking for, "I need...to get...laid."
She pressed call, lifting the phone to her ear and taking a deep, calming breath as she waited for her colleague to answer.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Jesse."
She could hear the man grinning down the phone at her, and couldn't help but smile herself, "Well, well, well, Miss Berry. Has my incessant pestering for a date finally paid off?"
"Yes, I can confirm that." She nodded firmly, before grimacing and taking a deep breath, "You suggested dinner this weekend?"
"I did indeed." Jesse confirmed, "Would you like to take me up on that offer?"
Rachel paused for a moment, before nodding again and forcing herself to speak, "Yes and no."
"Ooh, cryptic." The boy chuckled, "You keep me on my toes, Miss Berry."
"Well, I don't want you getting too cocky. Your head already barely fits through the stage door." She teased, "I was thinking maybe we could push our date up to tonight...and maybe skip dinner?"
Silence.
She grimaced with embarrassment, screwing her eyes shut and slumping back on the couch, wishing she had never called at all.
"Oh...kay? If you're sure?" Jesse replied, sounding slightly puzzled.
"I am sure." She grinned, "I'll text you my address."
"Uh, great. I'll be there in half an hour."
"Great." She replied stiltedly, before adding, "Um, Jesse? Just to be clear, this is a one-time thing. It doesn't change anything at work and we don't tell anyone at work and..."
"No strings." He nodded, still grinning, "That's fine."
Breathing a sigh of relief, she pushed herself upright again and began stripping off as she made her way to the bathroom, "Okay, great."
"One second." Jesse interjected, suddenly sounding suspicious, "This isn't all a clever ruse to get me to rehearse more is it?"
Fizzing excitement was beginning to replace the worry and unease in the pit of her stomach, and she giggled, "As if you need it. Although..." She paused, chewing at her bottom lip before taking a risk and blurting, "It'll be interesting to see if I can get you to hit a high C. I'll give it my best shot." She added seductively, hanging up before the boy had chance to reply.
With a deep breath, she fired off a quick text with directions before stepping into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the tension in her back. If she couldn't keep up with the rest of her friends, she'd at least celebrate being single.
Because fuck that. She thought determinedly, I'm Rachel fucking Berry. (!)
