Chapter 3

[Don't tell me not to live, I've simply got to.]

A few hours away, a very spunky and overdriven Rachel Berry Hudson paces back and forth her Manhattan apartment, racking her brain, thinking of every little detail about what her manager had just told her as she hangs up her phone.

"Rachel, what did he say baby?" Finn asks her calmly as he rises to his feet off of the edge of the sofa in anticipation.

"M-my musical. It's..." She squeaks, an unsure and worrisome tone to her usually prideful voice.

"It's?" Finn cups his wife into his arms, hugging her close and placing a reassuring kiss on her forehead, damp with a little sweat from previous news.

"Sold out." She steps away from Finn, looking up at him with large eyes, a smile forming on her lips. "It's sold out, Finn. It's the opening night of MY musical and it's SOLD OUT!" She shouts in excitement before bouncing up and down like a kid opening their first gift on Christmas morning.

Finn looks at her in disbelief, recovering from the well played pity act that his wife just performed and transitions into excited. "WHAT?" He jumps up and down with her, resulting in what looks to be a scene out of a corny 80's movie, minus the shoulder pads. He embraces her, tears of joy forming in the bottom lids of his proud eyes, overflowing down his cheeks overcome with relief and happiness for his beautiful wife that has worked so hard for this amazing news.

Rachel smiles bigger, feeling like if she smiled any larger than what she was, her face would burst. She pushes away from Finn after planting a celebratory kiss on his tear soaked lips and immediately reaches for her phone and hurriedly starts scrolling through her contacts, browsing numbers.

"Who are ya gonna call first, babe? Your dads?" Rachel looks up at Finn after this question, her face twisted into a softer and much less happy expression. "What? What's wrong?" Rachel looked down at her phone, glancing at a name that she somehow had avoided seeing these past few years. A contact that she honestly had forgotten somehow...looked over, and honestly ignored.

"Finn...do you ever think about Sam? Wonder how he's doing?" Rachel flicks her watery brown eyes up at him waiting for a response, not caring the outcome. Just asking a very honest question, wondering what he will say.

"I..." Finn raises his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at it, almost digging for something to say, guilt washing over him like every other time his mind wandered to Sam. "Sometimes. Yeah." He looked at his wife. Her once excited and enthusiastic mannerisms, washed into sadness and disappointment. Baby, it's okay." He once against scooped her small frame up into his giant comforting arms, knowing that usually comforts her. "Things happen and people change. They drift away and sometimes your best friends in high school, aren't around forever." Rachel pushed away and looked at him with a new look in her eyes.

"Sam is the only one we don't see or at least talk to anymore, Finn." Rachel turned away and paced to the back of the room, her hands on her face, then raking through her hair before turning around to face her husband again. "I want everyone to be here for my opening night. I reserved tickets for everyone. I've had them for a month now. I want to see him, don't you? Shouldn't I at least try and contact him? We haven't even done that."

"I dunno, Rach, do you really think that's a good idea? I mean Mercedes is one of your best friends and she lives right down the block so you know she'll be there and after what happened I mean..." Finn stopped and looked at her face. Full tears are now flowing down her flawless cheeks and over her parted and quivering lips, a look that Finn did now want to see ever, because it ripped his heart out every single time. "Rachel, please don't cry." He ran his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a falling tear on it's way down and placed a kiss on her lips, taking those tears with him. "Give him a call. But, from what I've heard of his current situations, I doubt that he'll answer."

A few minutes of waiting went by since Rachel scurried off to the bedroom to make her phone call to Sam. Voices could be heard from a far, so Finn could only assume that Sam did answer the phone. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Finn arose to his feet once again, and darted for the door, trying to avoid Rachel noticing in case of another crazed fan accident. He twisted the knob and opened the door, turning wide eyed at the face that he was not expecting or wanting to see at this particular moment in time.

"Hey, Finn! Where's Rachel? I heard the news and brought the bubbly!" Mercedes stood in the doorway, an open grin painted across her face, champagne filled hands at the ends of her stretched out arms.

"H-how did you know already? We just found out ourselves!" Finn blurted out, still standing in the doorway, leaving Mercedes in the hallway wondering why she hasn't been let in to sit her things down.

"Kurt, of course. He's a blabber mouth and in the show too, silly. Come on now, move before I make ya move boy!" Mercedes moved past Finn forcefully despite the warning and placed the bottles on the table and made her way to the kitchen, opening up cabinets searching for some champagne flukes. "RACHEL!" She called loudly, knowing she was somewhere in the house.

"Mercedes, shush! She's on the phone." Finn puts his fingers to his lips, motioning for the diva to calm down a little, terrified of the situation. Mercedes stopped her search, turning to Finn with a look of confusion.

"Who is she on the phone with, Finn. I know that look on your face and it's not just to warn me out of concern for her phone call privacy. Who is she talking to?" Mercedes had a way of getting anything out of anybody and Finn was starting to feel very uncomfortable knowing he was the easiest of the group to break.

Sam hung up the phone, breathing unsteady wondering if that phone call was just a figment of his imagination. Rachel had called to check on him and invite him to the opening night of her new musical. He had agreed, but how was he going to do that? He was completely broke, soon to be homeless (again), and a total deadbeat. He hadn't seen his friends since he was 17 years old, why four years later would he want to be seen in this state? Sure they had seen him homeless at 16, but that was his parents fault, not his. He had gone through some rough stuff the past few years, things that should have completely broken him, but yet here he was. An empty shell of his past self, sitting on the floor of a rundown apartment that technically wasn't even his anymore.

After a few minutes went by, he rose to his feet and started towards the bathroom. He flipped on the light and it flickered and turned on. His image in the dirty mirror wasn't one that he could easily recognize anymore. His hair was getting long again, blood stains still gracing parts of it and his cheek from his earlier run in. No wonder his landlord thought he was crazy. He was still handsome though. His eyes although darkened by his past, still sparkled in the light a soft green with a gentleness still there. His hair was darker now, but still a blonde hue like everyone else in his family. His lips still youthful and plump, trouty as they may be, the chicks still digged 'em. He lifted up his shirt, revealing some bruises, but still sporting a defined and toned abdomen and a strong chest. He let his shirt fall back down and scratched at the stubble on his face. If he was going to see everyone again, he was going to have to make himself look like something worth seeing, and he definitely needed to act like someone worth seeing.

"Sam Evans...it's time for a makeover." He switched off the light and exited the room.