A/N: Thanks to everyone who read my ramblings.
She was Rachel Berry and she could do anything.
Except apparently land a part, any part, on Broadway, Off-Broadway, or even Off-Off Broadway in almost a year and a half.
"Rachel, stop complaining. I'd like to say it's beneath you but we both know I'd be lying."
"I resent that Tess."
"Darling, you wouldn't be you if you didn't resent that. But, like I was saying half of those casting agents Off-Broadway don't know what they're doing and most of the ones Off-Off-Broadway couldn't properly cast a middle school musical."
"But, you would think they would cast me in an ensemble at the very least." Her cell phone was switched to the opposite hand so the refrigerator could be opened, "You have to admit that my voice is superior to most of the talent Off-Broadway."
"Rachel darling, what are the four things you need to make it on Broadway?" Tess said in a patient tone, as if this conversation was one that they'd had multiple times in the past.
"Talent, a good network, hard work and luck." Rachel huffed out as she closed the refrigerator.
"One, you have in spades. Two, you have the greatest network on Broadway in me. Three, we both know you will work for this until you die. It is the fourth that you have none of, but that will change one day. "
"But, isn't there something more I could be doing? Like attending parties with you to meet and greet people in the industry?"
"Rachel, you are not some show dog that I will have prancing around during parties, besides that is what auditions are for."
"But-"
"Rachel, do you know why I became your agent? Besides the fact you called or visited my office for two months without missing a single day, you are one of the finest talents I have ever seen and believe me at my age I've seen plenty. There is no way I would be your agent if I thought otherwise. You are a diamond in the rough waiting for its chance to shine and I will make you shine even if it kills me. You will be the finest star I have ever had the privilege of looking upon."
"Thank you Tess. I'm sorry I called you for no reason. It will not happen again."
"Darling, I'm scheduling your next phone call to complain to me as we speak. Let's see, in four months it will be near the end of December, so I will wait for your call then. Try not to call during Christmas weekend if you could."
Rachel stood in front of her sink with her mouth open for a moment before she could mumble out, "Thank you."
Rachel heard a laugh come from the speaker of her phone before Tess said good-bye which Rachel returned before she hit "End."
Rachel understood that it would take time before she would be a star on Broadway but that didn't stop her from wanting a creative outlet. Returning to her old MySpace account was out of the question since no one bothered to use that website so she created a YouTube account to express herself on the days she wasn't auditioning or waitressing. She soon discovered that there were people in the world who actually appreciated her vocal abilities and loved reading the comments that her videos received.
In fact, there were quite a few people who appreciated her abilities, which was why her cover of "The Only Exception" was slowly creeping towards 500,000 views and most of her other videos had well over 100,000 views. Aside from the sheer number of views, what she craved even more were all of the comments she got, whether they praised her or criticized her because it was more feedback than she ever got after her auditions. It quickly became part of her morning routine to check her account just to see if any comments were posted that she needed to reply to.
"A request for 'Don't Rain on My Parade'? How could I say no to that," Rachel mumbled to herself as she nibbled on a bagel.
She glanced at her clock and saw she had enough time to reply to a msleamichele to tell her she'd be happy to grant her request as soon as she had the time. With that done she put her IEMs in, pushed play on her iPod, grabbed her purse and made her out of her apartment in Hell's Kitchen to the subway to catch a train to work. She sat down and quickly lost her surroundings with sounds of Sara Bareilles in her ears while thinking about the coming lunch shift.
All in all working at the downtown location of Brasserie Les Halles wasn't bad. In fact, Rachel considered herself lucky she had found a job so close to both her apartment and the Theater District. The pay was pretty mediocre but the big tips given by most tourists more than made up for it. She also was highly entertained by the cast of characters who called Les Halles home, from the dirty mouthed kitchen staff who could cook better French food in their sleep than Rachel ever could make cookies to the crazy front of the house staff who were always playing pranks on each other or trying to swipe food from the kitchen.
What she loved most about Les Halles was the fact that the entire staff was made up of misfits, they were people who didn't belong in normal society and they all ended up here. There was no shortage of aspiring actors, dancers, writers, or musicians among the wait staff all waiting for their big break. The kitchen staff was all crude and should have been ashamed of the words that came out of their mouths, but they all could cook and they never took a day off. If Rachel didn't know any better she could have closed her eyes and imagined herself back in the Glee club room or in the auditorium rehearsing a number, albeit one that smelled much better.
"Rachel."
"Rachel."
"Rachel!"
Rachel felt someone poking her in the forehead, glanced up, and smiled.
"Tim! How is my favorite waiter this morning?" She said while pulling out the IEMs from her ears.
"Much better now that you're paying attention to me. I called your name three times before poking you!"
"Sorry, I was listening to music." Rachel sheepishly pointed to her IEMs.
Tim stared at the little ear buds that looked like they had-, "Is that foam you were sticking in your ears?"
"Yes, it is foam and they're needed to create a seal for the IEM, or In Ear Monitors. I prefer my music not to be drowned out by ambient noise nor would I rather cause myself to go deaf by turning up the volume on those horrible sounding ear buds that Apple provides. In fact, the sound quality is so terrible that Apple may as well not provide anything and let the user select something that is capable of producing a more suitable sound."
Tim chuckled at the sitting brunette, "Right well, you'd know all about that music stuff right? I guess I'll stick with my crappy white ear buds and make myself deaf. It's not like I need my hearing to write award winning novels."
"No, I suppose not. But you really should hear music the way the artist intended it to be. The combination of the soundstage, mixing the highs, mids, and lows-"
"I get it, I get it. I'm completely missing the point of music aren't I? I guess it doesn't matter when I'm listening to Ke$ha's comeback album."
Rachel studied Tim's serious expression for a second. "Tim, it seems that I will no longer be able to speak with you."
"Geez, I kid, I kid alright?"
Rachel patted the seat next to her, "I accept your apology for the tasteless joke. I didn't know you took this train to get to work."
Tim sat down. "I didn't apologize because I have nothing to apologize for. I just moved to a new apartment because my old one got shut down for a rat infestation."
"I told you that place was unspeakably filthy. And you most certainly had something to apologize for. Listening to Ke$ha is no joking matter."
Tim grinned. "I see no coffee mug filled with lemon water with honey, so no auditions today?"
"No, it appears that there has been a lull in hiring. Plus, four of my old high school friends are coming to the restaurant to visit me before dinner service."
"I'm guessing Kurt and Quinn are two of them."
"Your guess would be correct. Santana and Brittany are the names of the other two. They are here visiting before Ohio State classes start next week. They were also in New Directions."
"Are they as hot as Quinn?"
"They are both quite attractive but they're taken, with each other."
"Holy shit. That is amazing." Tim said with a big grin on his face.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Men." She got up. "This is our stop."
"Wait. What? There's a closer stop than this one."
"I know, but it's healthier to get off a few stops earlier and walk the rest of the way there." Rachel said as she walked out of the car.
"Oh for fuck's sake." Tim shot out of his seat and chased after her.
It was like watching pigs feed.
Every day the kitchen would prepare the specials that day by combining leftover ingredients, but since they weren't on the regular menu the wait staff had no idea what they looked or tasted like. So, the wait staff was fed an early lunch and the kitchen staff was able to educate the wait staff. Or at least the kitchen staff would try to educate them. The staff lunch would always start out well, but after five minutes it always ended up with the wait staff trying to stab as much food as possible onto their knives and forks and putting it into their mouths before going back for more.
As Rachel was a vegan she had no need to participate in the staff lunch since nearly all of the specials contained one leftover protein or another. However, she always attended the beginning when Carlos, the Executive Chef, explained what each dish was and which dishes he wanted to be pushed the hardest. As soon as the eating began she left the kitchen to help the bartenders, hosts, and runners set up the front of the house. By the time the front of the house was nearly set up a healthy vegan dish was sitting on the bar with Tim in the seat next to it. This was another routine at Les Halles that she loved.
When she first started she mentioned to the General Manager, Traci, that she was a vegan and all Traci did was shake her head and left her standing alone. Within a few minutes Traci had returned accompanied by a middle-aged Hispanic gentleman wearing a do-rag and a stained Chef's jacket with his name, Carlos, embroidered above a bleeding skull with a knife between its teeth all above the name of the restaurant embroidered in flames.
"This her?" Carlos asked.
"Oui, Chef." Traci responded with her French accent.
"You're a vegan?"
"Yes, will this be a problem?"
Carlos stared at her like she had grown a second head as he stood in front of her.
"A vegan or vegetarian waiter won't last a week here, you need to be able to taste the food on the menu to sell it. You absolutely need to taste the specials not on the menu to sell them because those change almost daily. Ninety percent of my menu has meat or a meat by product in it, how can you work here with your beliefs? How old are you? You look like you're twelve. Have you had wine before? How can you push a bottle of wine when you haven't had any at all?
Rachel narrowed her eyes at Carlos. "I'll have you know my acting skills are impeccable. If I want to sell a customer an item you can guarantee that they will order it, whether it is a horrible meat filled entrée or a bottle of wine for each person at the table. My personal choices in life will have no affect on my ability to work here because I am a professional, which appears that you are not."
She watched as Carlos narrowed his eyes right back at her while she was making her speech and she knew that he would fire her before she had even started. But, she would not let anyone walk over her because of her beliefs. Not even when this job was the one thing that she needed in her life because she had almost nothing else. She had no Broadway prospects, the agent she wanted to represent her would not answer her calls or see her, she was late with rent for the second month in a row, and worst of all she thought of Finn almost every day. When she finished and they were staring daggers at each other while she waited for the guillotine to fall.
"Hah! I like her!" Carlos said as his face broke into a giant smile. "Don't you?"
"Oui, Chef. She does have spunk."
"I'll tell you what. You can stay on, but you need to push dishes and wine like the rest of the wait staff. We'll see where you are in two weeks."
"I will not disappoint you."
Carlos was going to fire her.
It had been a week and her food numbers were not looking good. She was nowhere near the average number of specials sold by the rest of the staff. Worst of all Carlos was right, she couldn't describe what a piece of perfectly cooked and seasoned veal tasted like or the texture of house made sausage if she had never had them before. Rachel did borrow a wine list so she could do some research online regarding the wines that Les Halles sold. So she was able to push her wine sales above the staff average but it still did not make up for her lackluster food sales.
Rachel was sitting at the bar pouting before lunch service started on Monday eating some of the free snacks that were on the bar when Tim, the relatively quiet Chinese waiter, sat down next to her.
"You look happy. Finally going to achieve your dream of what was it? Becoming a Broadway star?"
Rachel gave him the stink eye. "Yes, I will be gone by the end of the week."
"That's too bad, I was hoping I could get some tips from you on how to improve my wine sales. I was going to trade you some food tips since it looked like you needed help there, but since you're leaving I guess I'm SOL."
Rachel couldn't help but start to grin. "Hmm, I believe that would be a fair trade even though I am leaving to become a star at the end of the week."
"Good, we can start now."
Tim explained what the specials of the day tasted like to Rachel and her special numbers immediately shot up to near the top of the leader board - the wait staff was juvenile and maintained the unofficial standings amongst themselves - that week and stayed there. The rest of that week Tim slowly described the regular menu to Rachel before and after lunch service after describing the day's specials. By the end of that week Rachel's overall numbers placed her only second to Tim with whom she had begrudgingly shared her wine tips. Carlos had also come by at the end of the week to tell Rachel that she could stay on which thrilled her because something in her life was going right for once.
A few weeks later Tim asked her one day, "So, why do you sit out here looking like you're bored out of your mind during staff lunch?"
"For one, the rest of the wait staff eats like they are pigs who have not been fed in weeks"
Tim shrugged as if he couldn't dispute that. "We sure do."
"Two, the first few times I observed the wait staff eating staff meals I could not help but notice the joy on your faces as you ate. I became a vegan at a young age so I do not understand the pleasure you all receive when you eat a piece of perfectly cooked protein. Since, you all looked extremely happy while consuming the flesh of some poor animal I could not help but wonder what it might taste like. I had to remove myself from the temptation."
"Wait, you've never had bacon? Or a medium-rare rib-eye steak? Or uni?"
"No. No. What is uni?"
"Sea urchin. One of the most delicious food stuffs on the planet."
"You sound extremely happy when you talk about it."
"I would die a happy man if that was the last piece of food I had."
"You are a strange individual."
"Thanks."
The next day Tim brought out a dish with him and set it on the bar after he and the rest of the wait staff had inhaled their staff lunch.
"Here, Carlos himself made this for you. Don't worry, it's completely vegan. He was cursing in Spanish the entire time he made this while the rest of the chefs and wait staff were laughing at him."
"I don't know what to say."
"I believe bon appétit is the proper French term to use."
"I believe it is. Bon appétit." Rachel took a bite. "This is amazing!"
"It better be. I made it." Carlos said.
Rachel shrieked since she hadn't noticed Carlos sneak up behind her.
"Carlos! Thank you so much. This is so delicious, I cannot stop eating it." She took another bite, "Sorry for talking with my mouth full. It's just that I haven't had food this good since I left Ohio."
"Good. But not the part where you haven't had good food. We're going to fix that." Carlos said as he walked back to the kitchen.
After that day, Tim always had a freshly cooked vegan dish waiting for her at the bar before lunch service. She also got her own dish during the staff meal before dinner service which was just as delicious and an even bigger portion. She even began to help set up the front of the house because in the end they were all one team and that is what teammates did. Okay, it was mostly because she became bored while waiting for Tim to come out with her food and explain what the daily specials tasted like. But like Carlos explained to her one day, you do things you otherwise wouldn't for family.
At the end of the first week when Tim had started to bring out a dish for her, Rachel cornered Carlos who was coming out of the kitchen just before the dinner shift started.
"Carlos, I just wanted to thank you for the meals that you have been preparing me and as a ges-"
"Woman, go away. I just want some peace and quiet before the dinner rush. We are in the fucking weeds. Do you know how much shit I still have to get done? Let me just go outside and smoke my cigarette."
"But, I-"
"Pinche. You know why all the chefs cook shitty vegan food for you? You sell our real food, you make customers spend more money. This means you are family. In this world, we take care of our family. Now, let me go smoke."
With that Carlos brushed past a smiling Rachel.
"Hey, you going to eat your food? Otherwise I'm gonna inhale it like a hungry pig. Oink, oink."
"Yes, Tim, I am going to eat. Give me the fork."
"Were you spacing out? Daydreaming of being a Broadway star?"
"No, Tim. I was remembering some good times."
It hit her suddenly.
Lunch shift at Les Halles was like a Broadway musical.
There were a lot of customers during lunch but they all hit the restaurant over a short period of time. There were three hours of rushing around and then it was over all of a sudden. But those few hours were magic in her eyes. When Rachel realized it she stopped in the middle of the hallway connecting the kitchen with the front of the house. She quickly learned this was not a good place to stop and think when a runner elbowed her in the stomach on his way to the kitchen and another runner elbowed her in the back on his way out.
Rachel waited until lunch service was almost finished to ponder her thoughts, but the more she thought about it the more she believed it. The hustle and bustle of the restaurant provided the soundtrack to the only leading actor and director Les Halles would have, its executive chef. Carlos would direct his company with an iron fist to make sure everyone knew what they were saying and where their places were and like a leading man raising his voice above all others to yell out orders to his fellow chefs. The front of the house staff was like the ensemble that created a wall of sound whose only job was to support the lead. The runners were the stagehands who were constantly scurrying back and forth with their arms full of plates loaded with food or loads of empty plates doing the thankless work that kept the restaurant in motion.
She could feel the emotion and excitement build as lunch first started, there was a lull when the first group of people were finished eating but the second had not been seated. It built and built until the climax around 1:00pm when it was the loudest in the restaurant, the front of the house was packed with people waiting at the bar to be seated, eating their food, or getting ready to leave. Their conversations contained drama, romance, humor, wit, everything a Broadway show contained. The kitchen was under the most pressure firing table after table after table without end, the chefs trying to keep up with orders. Each chef knew that a single mistake would lead to the entire service falling apart, which would lead to bad food, which would lead to bad word of mouth. All the goodwill a restaurant or show had built up over time could be killed by one bad performance. No one in either business wanted bad word of mouth, it was a death knell.
Then like that, it was over.
A few stragglers would come in asking for an encore, the chefs would begrudgingly oblige them.
It was time to clean up for the night's show.
Rachel was still trying to piece together the metaphor when she spotted Brittany running towards her from the entrance of the restaurant with her arms held open for a hug. Rachel smiled and walked towards her with her own arms held up.
"Brittany! Stop!"
Brittany slid to a stop. "Aww San, but Rachel's right there! I wanna give her a hug! We haven't seen each other in forever!"
"Yea well, I want to hug Man-Hands first. Plus you need to wash your hands before you touch anything." Santana said as she strode towards Rachel.
"Why does she need to wash her hands?" Rachel asked as she and Santana hugged.
"I was trying to pet the sewer alligators!"
Of course you were," Rachel pointed Santana and Brittany down a hall, "Santana the restrooms are down this hall to the left. I'll hug you after wash your hands Brittany."
Rachel turned to wave at Kurt and Quinn who were slightly shaking their heads at Brittany's special brand of antics.
"Hey. Did you guys get moved in already?
Kurt scowled. "Ugh. Don't remind me. I had to spend hours to get my small dorm room up to my standards."
Quinn smirked at Kurt. "I got some guys I met freshman year to help me. Santana and I ordered them around and they were done in an hour."
"I hate you."
"But, I think my roommate turned into a giant pothead over the summer. There were way too many bongs on her side of the room."
"You need to invite me over more often, but I still hate you."
Rachel gasped. "Kurt, you smoke marijuana?"
"Sure, a few times a semester just for shits and giggles."
"Hey midget, what'd we miss? And where's my food? Me and B are starving."
"I want alligator!" Brittany exclaimed before trailing off, "I wonder if it tastes different than the ones you get in Florida?"
"Kurt is smoking marijuana. And have a seat, I'll get you guys some food." Rachel said as she left to go put in an order.
"Really Kurt? You should've said something over the Summer!" Santana said.
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I can't smoke back in Lima, I have to go home every night."
"Party pooper," said Brittany as she took her seat.
Rachel came back and hugged Brittany from behind which immediately caused the blonde to squeal with joy before kissing Rachel on the cheek.
"I missed you."
"I've missed you as well Brittany."
Brittany started to say something, but Santana interrupted. "Hey RuPaul, what'd you order us?"
Rachel rolled her eyes at the nickname. "Actually didn't order anything specific. I just asked the chefs to make something for you guys. But don't worry, everything is really delicious here."
"Hey Rachel, are these the hot friends you were telling me about?"
"Yes, Tim, these are my friends from high school. You've met Quinn and Kurt." They waved at Tim. He waved back. "That is Santana and I am currently hugging Brittany. Santana, Brittany, this is Tim. He's a fellow waiter here at Les Halles."
"A waiter? Just a waiter? I thought we were bestest work buddies! I am wounded here!" Tim exclaimed overdramatically as he put his hands over his heart.
"Wait, where are you wounded? Shouldn't you be at a hospital?" Brittany asked.
Tim glanced at Rachel. "Is she for real?"
"Yes, she is, but don't hold it against her. She's the sweetest person you'll ever meet. Santana on the other hand is the devil incarnate," Rachel said.
"Ooh, a sexy angel and the hot devil. My wildest dreams have come true."
"Hey, waiter boy Tom, fuck off and go fetch us some water."
"Water? You got it. It's Tim by the way."
"Yea, whatever Jim."
Tim looked over at Santana who glared at him and he let out a cackle of laughter as he left to go get the glasses of water.
"I like him. He's cool."
"Wait, excuse me? Did Santana just say she liked someone she met for the very first time?" Asked Quinn.
"What? I'm like maturing or whatever. Oh and Tim likes you Rachel"
Rachel started from surprise and pulled herself away from Brittany. "What? No, he doesn't. He's just my friend."
"Oh please, that boy did nothing but stare at you when he wasn't talking to me. I bet if I cared enough to turn around I'd see him staring at you right now."
"Santana does have a point and whenever he looked at you he had a little grin on his face like he was just happy to see you. He is cute. I'd date him." Kurt chimed in.
"Just because Tim is looking at me does not mean he likes me. I mean he's a very kind person who makes me laugh all the time but he does not like me in that way. Kurt, you are free to date him, but I believe he would much rather date the young blonde bartender over there who reciprocates his feelings and is always trying to talk to him."
Santana wore a look of victory on her face, "Ha! So you have seen him looking at you! You've even noticed who he talks to! Rachel you so like waiter boy over there!"
"I do not like Tim, he's coming now over so can we move on from this topic."
"Here you go ladies and gentleman. Five glasses of water. Would you like anything else to drink? Perhaps some iced tea? Soda? Arnold Palmers?"
"Scram waiter boy, we're trying to reminisce here."
"Sure thing. Rachel sit and talk with your friends, I'll be your waiter this afternoon." Tim said as he pulled out a chair for Rachel.
Rachel smiled and took the offered seat, "Thanks Tim."
"Hey, Tim, I'd like an Arnold Palmer!" Quinn shouted as Tim walked back towards the bar.
"Make that two!" Kurt added.
"Two Arnold Palmers on their way," Tim said as he changed directions to his station to put the drink order in.
"Now where were we? Oh that's right. Waiter boy and Man-Hands were crushing on each other. Berry, give us more dirt on Jim."
"S, I gotta go to the restroom."
"What? We were just there, why didn't you go when we were washing your hands?"
"Because I didn't feel like going then!" Brittany said as she was getting up.
"Oh, alright, come on," Santana got up and pointed at Rachel. "We're continuing this conversation when we get back."
"You guys have been pretty quiet," Rachel said to Quinn and Kurt.
Quinn shrugged, "They've missed you. Yes, even Santana. They're half way across the country and the three of us are on the same island, we figured they should talk with you as much as possible."
Kurt nodded, "You should have seen Brittany on the way over here. She was practically running down the street to get here. If she wasn't distracted by the skyscrapers every five minutes we would've gotten here sooner. And I could have sworn Santana was strutting faster and faster as we got closer to the restaurant."
"Speaking of the same island, you should hang out with us more often Rachel. I mean, we lived in the same city for almost a year and we barely saw each other ten times." Quinn said.
"I would love to, but you know that our schedules do not mesh well. When I have free time, you two are at class and when you two have free time I am auditioning or working."
Quinn sighed, "I know, I guess we got a bit spoiled the last year of high school but we should try harder this year."
"Agreed."
"Bitches, back to my conversation." Santana said as she walked back with Brittany.
Rachel sighed, "There is nothing happening between us. You're overreacting to what you perceive to be signs of romantic affection."
"Rachel and romance? I haven't heard those two words in one sentence since… ever." Tim said as he walked up to the table.
Rachel's eyes widened in shock and she saw Santana grin at her as if she were a cat playing with its food. "It's nothing Tim, Santana was just being her usual self."
Tim shrugged. "In any case, ladies and gentleman, may I present to you the fine food of Brasserie Les Halles. Rachel is being served with an off the menu vegan item with a bunch of vegetables that I don't care about. Santana, in front of you there is a plate of-"
"Shut it, waiter boy. I want to hear Rachel tell me the about the food, not some Jackie Chan knock off."
"Santana, he's our waiter. It's his job to tell us about the dishes."
"No, you're our waiter who just joined us at the table. He's our lapdog who's meant to fetch things for us." Santana looked at Tim, "So, why don't you be a good lapdog and fetch me some more water."
Tim sighed dramatically, "Yes, your highness."
Santana turned back to Rachel with a demanding look on her face.
"Oh, all right."
Rachel went around the table and sold each dish as she would if she was trying to get them to order them. She couldn't help but notice the grin on Brittany and Santana's faces as she talked about each dish and soon she grin herself as she described the final dish which happened to be Brittany's.
"So wait, this is alligator right?"
Rachel shot a quick glance at Santana who slightly nodded her head. "Yes, Brittany it is alligator."
"Great!"
"Berry, if this food is half as good as you described it to be I'd be amazed."
"Trust me, it lives up to my billing." Rachel's eyes met Quinn's who smiled back at her because she had been here before and knew the food was delicious.
Rachel smiled as she saw the faces of her friends light up as they took the first bites of their dishes. The conversation at the table quickly died down as everyone put forth more effort into eating. It picked right back up when they began playing what Rachel had secretly dubbed the "Remember when" game. The rules were simple, it seemed that whenever three or more members of New Directions got together one of them would inevitably say, "Remember when so and so did x, y, or z?" The other members would laugh and smile as they of course remembered the event and it would continue as each member would begin a sentence with that phrase until they wore themselves out laughing at the good memories.
Today was no exception.
Quinn began the game today, "Remember when we won Regionals for the first time and Mike got so excited he did a back flip off the stage and almost hit Ms. Pillbury?"
Santana's turn, "Remember when we got together behind Ms. Sylvester's back to sing 'Ride with Me'"?
Kurt's turn, "Remember when we slushied Mr. Shue?"
Brittany, "Remember when I got lost in the sewer that Summer?" Everyone just smiled with her. She never could play the game that well.
Rachel, "Remember when we ran around New York City for an entire day before our second Nationals?"
Santana, "Remember when Rachel got so nervous before our first Nationals win that she ended up in front of the ice machine mumbling 'Ice, Ice, Baby' over and over again for an hour before Artie found her?"
"That is not an amusing story."
"Was for the rest of us," Kurt, Quinn, and Santana all said at the same time. Everyone laughed.
Rachel, "Remember when we lost our first Regionals?" Sad memories came after the good ones.
Quinn's turn, "Remember when Mr. Shue yelled at us right before we performed at our second Sectionals?"
Brittany, "Remember when Mr. Shue couldn't see us perform at our first Sectionals?" For such a happy person it was strange that Brittany remembered the sad times much better than the happy ones.
Santana, "Remember when I hated everyone in the room?" Rachel smiled and looked over to see Santana with a sheepish grin on her face.
Kurt, "Remember when I left?" No one smiled.
Rachel, "Remember when you came back to us?" Everyone grinned. But there were always more good memories to remember.
Kurt, "Remember when we did our 'Happy Days' duet?"
Quinn, "Remember when you two fought like harpies over every solo?"
Rachel, "Remember when the entire school cheered for us after we won Nationals?"
Kurt, "Remember when we showed up for the first club meeting our senior year and there was nowhere to stand? We had to go to the auditorium!"
Quinn announced the end of the game, "We had some great times in Glee."
Everyone nodded.
"Looks like you guys aren't reminiscing right now, so I think it'd be a good time to ask if you all would like dessert?" Tim asked as he cautiously approached the table.
"Fuck yes, we'd like some dessert. The food here is great!"
"Of course it is Santana, I'll order you a few things to share. Now let's see, lemon tea with a little honey for Rachel. Would anyone else like some tea? Or perhaps coffee?"
Rachel felt her cheeks warm up a little bit, Santana saw this and smirked at Rachel, "Coffee, black. Brittany will have a cup drowned with milk and sugar."
Kurt looked at Quinn who nodded so he said, "Two black teas."
"Your wishes are my command," Tim said as he left.
"So, you two figure out what you want to major in?" Santana asked.
"Undecided. Too bad there's no photography major at NYU." said the blonde.
"Journalism," replied the other.
"Really? I never thought you were interested in newspapers or news journals," questioned Rachel.
"Not that kind of journalism. Fashion magazines. I want to sway the entire fashion world by printing one photo spread. I want to be able to make or break the careers of young designers. I want to be able to ruin the career of a big shot designer with one mere sentence." Kurt's chin slowly lifted as he finished his reasoning. "And I want the free samples."
"Wow. Power trip much?" Santana sardonically replied.
Kurt smiled and asked, "What about you Santana? Cheerleading as a major?"
Santana glared at him, "Pre-law and philosophy double major. I'm going to be a lawyer. I'm going to grind people in court to dust with my five-inch Christian Louboutins stilettos, figuratively of course."
Kurt mimicked Santana, "Wow. Power trip much?"
Santana smirked. "You know it."
"What about everyone else? How are they doing? I have not had the time to hold up my end of all my friendships," Rachel said.
"I won't bore you with too many details, but Mercedes, Sam, and Mike are loving it at their various SoCal schools. The beaches, the weather, the sun, all the other horrible things for skin." Kurt said.
"Dessert has arrived! You guys finished reminiscing yet? Can I join in on the conversation?"
"No, be gone, man servant."
As Tim left, Quinn continued, "Artie is studying like mad to get into med school, he wants to get into research, something about stem cells and paralysis. Tina really hated UNC so she transferred to a small private school, Wesleyan I think." She looked over to Kurt for confirmation who nodded, "And Puck is running the biggest bar in Lima, he said he's saving every penny so he can travel the world."
"Oh," Rachel said as she lowered her head to look at the newly arrived dessert, "Everyone seems to have a good idea of what they want. That's good, I'm happy for everyone."
With her head lowered, Rachel missed the questioning look Santana gave to Quinn who nodded.
"Frankenteen is doing better. He stopped moping around three quarters of the way through the school year. I even set him up on a few dates. We also joined the a cappella group with a weird ass name at Ohio State. We're the Meshuganotes or something. Let me tell you something, the soloists before we joined were awful. Berry, you could out sing them even if I reached down your throat and ripped out one of your lungs, maybe even both lungs."
Rachel looked up at Santana, "I doubt I could out sing anyone without my lungs."
"Wanna try it anyway?"
"No, thank you."
"Damn."
"I'm glad Finn is doing better. He didn't deserve the pain I caused him."
"No, he didn't. But he understands that sometimes things don't work out. It just took him a while." Kurt said.
For one of the few times in her life, Rachel had nothing to say.
Tim saved her, again, when he brought the check over.
"Tim, this check has a balance of zero." Rachel said as she looked it over.
"I know, Traci signed off on it."
"But, we had a lot of food!"
"You guys sure did. Bunch of fat asses, the lot of you."
Everyone glared at him Rachel noticed, except for Brittany who was ripping up all of the coasters into tiny pieces.
"I kid, I kid. You guys are one of the most beautiful groups of people who has ever graced his establishment. And you know what Carlos always says. We take care of family. Traci also said and I quote, 'Don't make this a habit.'"
Rachel turned around to wave at Traci who smiled back. "Give our compliments to the chef. All of the food was delicious as usual. I'll see you tomorrow."
"You got it." Tim said as he walked back to the bar.
Everyone chipped in and a very healthy tip was put on the table.
"We're going to my place correct?"
Kurt replied, "Yes, Rachel."
A short train ride later and Santana and Brittany were wandering around Rachel's apartment while Rachel spoke with Kurt and Quinn in the living room/dining area.
"Damn, Berry. How can you afford this? This place is huge!"
"It's not that large, and I make a decent amount of money from being a waiter. Also, my daddies help."
"So why do you have a camera in the extra bedroom?" Brittany asked.
"The light is much better in the spare bedroom for when I shoot my YouTube videos."
"Berry, you got a YouTube account and didn't tell any of us?"
"I, uhh, never got around to it?"
"Uh-huh, what's your account name."
"RBGoldstar."
"Figures." Kurt said.
Santana pulled out her iPhone, "This is so going straight to Facebook and Twitter."
Brittany started jumping up and down, "Guys, guys we should do a video!"
"Sadly, Kurt and I haven't really sung in a year we'd be pretty rusty."
"What? We just sang when everyone but Berry was home for the Summer!"
"Karaoke night at the bar Puck runs does not count."
Santana looked at Kurt, "Who cares? This is what we do! We just have to pick a song that we can do without any deep voices. Rachel?"
"While I am tired from working today I would greatly enjoy singing with you all again," Rachel looked up in thought for a moment, "And I have thought of the perfect song. If you all would warm up your voices, I'll start my computer and get ready to record us."
Ten minutes later Rachel had deemed all of their voices to be properly warmed up and asked, "Everyone ready? Good." Rachel pressed a button and stepped back into the frame.
"Hello, I would like to introduce you to a few of my best friends who will be singing with me today," Rachel pointed to them as she said each of their names, "Santana, Brittany, Quinn, and Kurt. Today, we will be performing the classic Lady Gaga song 'Bad Romance' I hope you enjoy it."
"Bad Romance" quickly became one of her most watched videos.
A/N 2: So yea, this chapter got away from me. One second the word count is as 2k and the next I'm sitting at 5k and I still have more to write.
Les Halles is a real restaurant in NYC. My idealized restaurant atmosphere was based off of Anthony Bourdain's book Kitchen Confidential which is the story of his life and the life of Les Halles. A few bits and pieces were also based off of an episode of his TV show, No Reservations. If for some reason my depiction of restaurant life interests you, I recommend his book. It's fun times.
Also, apologies to the Meshuganotes. I looked up a few YouTube videos and you guys sound great. Santana was being Santana.