Title: I'm Still Waiting for the Rain to Fall
Author: anan0maly
Summary: ...pour real life down on me...
Pairing: Eventual Rachel/Quinn
Rating: PG to NC-17
Word Count: 49,000+ (so far)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters unfortunately. Title belongs to Evanescence's 'Good Enough'.
Betas: My friends Aimee and Alma. :) Thank you both so so much.
Author's Note: Thank you for all the story alerts. I know some of you have probably already read this, but thanks for hanging in there and reading it again as I slowly repost it.
Part One:
& ! & ! &
It was half past eleven on Saturday morning and Rachel had been awake since seven thirty. She completed an hour work-out on her elliptical trainer, warmed up her vocal cords, ate a healthy breakfast of muesli, fruit and yogurt and made her way to her Saturday dance class. Hip Hop. Of all the classes she had to take, hip hop was the one she loathed the most. She couldn't seem to let her body just move to the music like she could with Ballet. She couldn't freestyle.
She'd tried countless times to take on her instructor's advice. "Let your body take over. Don't think, just move." But Rachel just couldn't seem to move her body without prior thought. She craved the choreography of ballet, jazz and tap. When she did let her body move, she was awkward and ill-timed. Her father wanted her to be well-rounded, but Rachel couldn't help but think that her tiny frame and need for structure wasn't suited for Hip Hop dance.
Halfway through the two hour class, Meaghan called for a five minute break. Rachel moved over to one of the windows overlooking the main street below. She watched the people milling about going this way and that, carrying bags of shopping, checking watches, talking on cell phones. An interesting group of individuals eventually caught her eye.
Walking in a small group were Brittany, Santana, Kurt, Mercedes and Quinn. She wouldn't have noticed them at all if Brittany hadn't been wearing her bright red Cheerio's jacket. Rachel watched as Kurt flailed his hands around while Mercedes rolled her eyes and Rachel couldn't help but imagine the girl muttering a dismissive "whatever". Brittany's hand was clasped tightly with Santana's and Quinn looked relaxed and comfortable walking to the left of Kurt.
Rachel felt a pang of disappointment and hurt that they hadn't invited her along, but she quickly squashed the feeling because even if they had asked, she would have had to decline. Rachel tortured herself one more time by wondering where they were headed and if they were meeting up with anyone else from Glee.
"Ten seconds!" Meaghan called out, breaking Rachel from her thoughts.
She sighed and bowed her head before turning back toward the instructor. Another hour and she could go home.
& ! & ! &
On Monday morning, Rachel found herself standing in front of the fridge. She carefully read the schedule displayed, but wondered why she bothered reading it anymore, nothing ever changed. The few changes that had occurred in the past, were to replace or add activities, but never to eliminate them.
She pulled at the red marker attached to the fridge door. Carefully she placed a tick next to 'cardio workout', 'vocal exercises' and 'breakfast'. She carefully recapped the marker before replacing the pen in the same position she'd taken it. Some days she felt like Miss Pillsbury with how accurate and precise her actions had to be.
Quickly re-checking her schedule for the day, she noted that her vocal training, tap class and piano practice were still in place, as was the time allotted for working on the night's MySpace video. Grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl, Rachel glanced at the time on the microwave. She had exactly twenty minutes to get to school.
She was almost out the door when she heard her dad's voice. "If you wait two minutes, I'll drive you," he offered.
Rachel looked up at her dad and greeted him with a wide smile. "Thanks, Dad. I should have left ten minutes ago, but my shower ran over time. I was hoping to get there early today." she watched as her dad nodded his head as he started to head toward the kitchen. "I wanted to speak with Mr. Schuester about some possible song selections."
Rachel's dad returned half a minute later with a thermos filled with coffee in one hand and a half peeled banana in the other. "I'm sure he's very grateful for the assistance you're giving him with song choices," her dad replied with a grin before taking a bite off the top of his banana. Rachel beamed up at her dad before following him out to the car.
The drive to school was a short one and Rachel took advantage of having her dad's full attention to tell him about the songs they were singing in Glee and how they had another invitational coming up in a few weeks. She told him about the new shipment of props for the Renaissance Club and that the week's topic for Speech Club was "Cafeteria Food." Although Rachel thought it was a ridiculous topic, lacking merit, she'd already outlined the pros and cons of McKinley High's very unique dietary selection.
Rachel appreciated her dad humoring her as she barely took a breath to fill him in on the exciting new things. When they reached the front of the school, her dad didn't even think twice about pulling up to the front steps. Rachel thanked him profusely for the lift before grabbing her uneaten apple and bag and quickly exiting the car.
Rachel wasn't able to catch Mr. Schue before school as she had hoped. She thought she'd seen him disappearing around a few corners but when she'd marched down the hallway, he was nowhere to be seen. With a huff, she gave up. For the time being.
During her lunch period she quickly grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria. She had a lot to organize for the Renaissance Club meeting that afternoon and Mr. Grabowski was useless. Rachel acknowledged his meagre efforts to keep the Renaissance Club running, but his facts were more often than not, historically incorrect. Any decent historian knew Europe had been reborn when Constantinople, not Constantinopolous, was overrun by Ottoman troops. Rachel much preferred it when Mr. Grabowski was not in attendance at club meetings.
Rachel quickly made her way toward the cafeteria exit. She spied a few of the Glee club members eating together just as she neared the doors. Rachel watched Santana shoot a glare in Quinn's direction when the blond laughed a little too loudly at something Artie and Tina had been discussing. With their backs facing her, Rachel could see Finn was sandwiched between Mike and Tina. Rachel moved to avert her gaze but was distracted by a hand eagerly waving in her direction.
Brittany had a bright, inviting smile on her face. Rachel checked over her shoulder wondering who Brittany was waving to. There was no one there. Turning back with a confused look, Rachel could see the energetic cheerleader motioning for her to come and join them at the table. Rachel just shot her a grin and pointed toward the exit. She shrugged her shoulders and watched as Brittany's face fell. Rachel quickly hurried out of the cafeteria, missing the frown that formed on Brittany's face.
& ! & ! &
The first twenty minutes of lunch were spent taking a few bites of her sandwich while organising the new head gear and weapons for the Renaissance Club. Mr. Grabowski didn't know the difference between a Pleated Flat Cap and a Brocade Flat Cap and so Rachel had volunteered to organize the club's wardrobe.
At precisely 11:40, Rachel left the Renaissance attire categorized and strode swiftly to her locker. She pulled out her Spanish folder and text book and quickly made her way toward the library. She would probably only have fifteen minutes to work through the first few questions, but with her afternoon schedule so busy, she had to take any time she could find to fit in her homework.
Twenty minutes later when the bell sounded in the library signifying the end of the lunch period, Rachel didn't waste a second. She quickly scribbled in the end of the translated sentence and packed up her belongings. She pushed her way through the throngs of students making their way to lockers and classrooms. When she finally made it to her own locker she switched out her Spanish for her English and quickly slammed her locker door closed.
& ! & ! &
When two thirty finally rolled around at the end of the school day, Rachel breathed out a sigh of relief. With classes finally done for the day, she quickly ignored Finn calling out her name as she raced back to her locker. She needed to pack her bag so she could leave as soon as Renaissance Club was over. She checked the timetable taped to the inside of her locker door and grabbed books and folders for the corresponding subjects. Satisfied she had all she needed; Rachel quickly zipped up her bag and reached into her locker for her Renaissance notebook and a feathered pen. Rachel was nothing if not as authentic as possible.
The cover of the notebook had a picture of the roof of the Sistine Chapel and on the very top right hand corner was Rachel's name accompanied by a gold star. Rachel was the club-appointed 'Queen' and when they didn't have enough members for a 'Scribe', she made sure to take on that role as well. She wasn't going to let just anyone take down the minutes of their meetings and they had just begun discussing ideas for a Renaissance Festival.
By the end of the club meeting everyone had their assignments. Rachel would have volunteered to provide some of the food, but really, when did she have time to cook? She'd been stuck with designing the posters advertising the festival and she supposes she should be grateful for such an easy task, but she would have liked to have been able to contribute a little more.
& ! & ! &
At exactly half-past three that afternoon Rachel quickly made her way toward the front entrance, her Renaissance minutes book in one hand, her bag in the other. She tried to hurriedly fit the book in her bag before making it to her father's awaiting car. He was always there to make sure she made it to her voice lessons with Rosemary every Monday and Friday afternoon. She quickly slid into her seat as her father gave her a slight smile before releasing the handbrake. Rachel barely had time to put her seatbelt on when she felt the car surging forward.
"Hi," She greeted softly. Over the years, the time Rachel got to spend with her father had become increasingly strained. In recent months, her father had been focused intently on ensuring Rachel was achieving at the highest levels possible. He made sure to clear his afternoons to accommodate her numerous dance, acting and voice lessons. She was thankful that her piano lessons were taken at home with Günter or she'd probably be seeing the inside of her father's car more than her own house.
"We've got about twenty five minutes before we need to get you to Rosemary. I'd offer to stop and grab a quick snack, but I don't want you too full to affect your projection. But I did bring you a bottle of water. It's behind my seat," her father said in lieu of a greeting. Rachel nodded her head in understanding before reaching behind him to grab the 20oz bottle.
"Thanks, Daddy," Rachel replied with a small smile. She watched his profile for a few seconds as he concentrated on the road. When she was little, they would slide a worn-out tape of the great favorites into the tape deck and sing along together, as loud as they possibly could. Bette Midler, Barbra Streisand, Liza Minnelli, Judy Garland, Sarah Brightman, Patti LuPone. He would always help her pronounce the big words and they even had a few car-appropriate actions, from seat-shimmying to spirit fingers. These days, their car rides were usually filled with instructions he felt would inspire her to do better, try harder. Sometimes, she preferred that to the empty silence she was experiencing today.
Rosemary's studio was about a fifteen minute trip from McKinley High. They drove down the quiet street as her father barely held back an expletive at the lack of parking spaces. He insisted on dropping her off at the door so she wouldn't be late and Rachel couldn't help but be grateful for the reprieve. She quickly made her way into the studio where Rosemary was already waiting with a warm smile. Out of all of her coaches and instructors, she thought she might like Rosemary the best.
"Your father not joining us, today?" She asked with a small, sort of knowing smile.
Rachel just offered her a grin. "He's just parking the car."
Rosemary's gaze almost dropped, and her smile certainly did. "Best get started, then."
About ten minutes into the lesson, Rachel was warming up her vocal cords when her father entered to take a seat in the far corner, his eyes trained on her. Rachel hated that she almost missed a high F because she felt nervous under his scrutiny. She didn't mind having her father in the room with her; he pushed her to achieve more, to reach higher for that note. It was just that he could sometimes be a bit intimidating.
Throughout the next fifty minutes she felt every frown her father made, every small shake of his head, every sigh that escaped his lips. She caught a nod once or twice, but she wasn't sure if it was to indicate his approval or agree with something Rosemary had said.
When the session ended, Rosemary placed a comforting hand on her arm. She wasn't quite sure why Rosemary felt she needed the reassurance, but she was grateful for it anyway. Rachel just grinned and told Rosemary she'd see her again on Friday.
& ! & ! &
Thirty minutes after her voice lesson, Rachel found herself in a crowded changing room at the local dance studio. A few of the younger teens were gathered in a circle, heads bent over the small screen of an iPhone. "He's so cute!" One girl exclaimed loudly. The rest of the group agreed in chorus.
Rachel rolled her eyes and pushed her way passed the group of giggling girls to find a spot along the wall. She set her bag down and began to quickly change into her tap clothes. Rachel was a firm believer that once you stepped foot inside the studio, your focus should be on your steps, on the music, on your timing.
Rachel pulled off her sweater and unbuttoned her shirt. Since the beginning of the new year, all of Rachel's dance classes had been working on new routines for their Spring Showcase. Jill, the owner of 'A Step Up', had organized for the Spring Showcase to be based around the 50's, 60's and 70's. Rachel would be dancing to some classics like, 'Singing in the Rain', 'Mack the Knife', 'New York, New York' and 'Puttin' on the Ritz'. Rachel desperately hoped she'd be awarded a solo spot in at least one of the performances. As she slipped on a t-shirt and leggings, Rachel mentally prepared herself for two hours of tap.
Around her, the changing room began to empty out. Rachel quickly pulled on a pair of socks and slipped on her tap shoes. She only had five minutes to get onto the floor and start warm ups.
When she finally made it out to the floor, Alyssa was rallying the class together in rows, making sure everyone was in their place. As the owner, Jill's number one rule was that parents were to stay outside at all times. She felt, especially with the younger class members, that parental presence deterred from any progress that could be achieved. Rachel whole-heartedly agreed. Mr. Berry didn't.
During her dance lessons, Rachel's father would begrudgingly retreat to one of the local coffee shops. He always took his laptop and worked for two hours from there. He would arrive back at the dance studio door right on time to take Rachel home.
Monday evenings were always a bit of a rush. As soon as Rachel finished her tap class, she would have to race right out of the studio, with a few seconds to throw her school clothes on over her dance clothes to jump into her father's car. They would try to get home by at least 7:45pm so Rachel could have half an hour to practice the piano while the finishing touches of dinner were completed. As soon as she ate, she would retreat to her bedroom with her father to work on a new MySpace video for the evening.
Some nights Rachel would have the time to practice the piano after dinner, allowing her a little bit of time to begin digesting before performing. Although she liked to record a video every night to keep her talent alive, her father had the final say on recordings that were to be uploaded. This meant that there were some evenings when twenty takes just weren't going to cut it and they would either scrap the song entirely, or hold off until the following evening.
Although her schedule had Rachel's bedtime allocated as 11:00pm, with the hour beforehand devoted to homework, she usually found herself awake until midnight or later just trying to work through assignments. She was lucky her father was such a perfectionist and encouraged a good image, or she'd never have the time to shower and remain fresh-faced and clean.
Rachel's weeks generally consisted of rushing from one place to the next. She thought herself lucky that her parents were so invested in her future. She didn't want to stay in Lima, and both her parents were happy to help her get out of the small town with its measly 40,000 people.
Yes, her schedule had her busy and yes, she did find herself more tired than not, but she knew in the end it would all pay off. She would make it out of Lima. She would make it to New York. She would make it on Broadway and she would make her parents proud. One day.