AN: This story will mostly focus on Rachel's journey in recovery and how she rebuilds herself.

Shine Chapter 4

Nobody tells you life turns out this way, all the roads you travel lead to this dead end and you have nowhere to go, that you're left all alone to survive as a lone ranger. Nobody tells you everyone leaves you alone until you figure out the unsolvable puzzle of life. Nobody tells you that everything vanishes in thin air as quickly.

She strolls the streets, directionless, chin high, back straight and strutting away as she wonders what to make of her life now. She was done with her education, all her friends and family seemingly a million miles away and she had drove him away until it was just her and her loneliness for company. She whistles into the empty street, just night lights and the light traffic of the road. She smiles. There's a star on the door of this bar, a gold star, for once, she feels a semblance of hope.

You're a real star Rachel and you deserve to shine.

The words echo through her memory as her lips morph into a bigger smile, as she stares at the glowing lights of the door. There's jazz music in the background, lulling the deep turmoil of her mind as she walks in. The bartender is clearing up and she enters the room like a deer in headlights. She's never been a bar before. Not on her own anyway, she was usually accompanied by a handsome friendly giant on her arm.

The guy smiles at her as she sits on the stool silently. It's almost midnight and she doesn't know why but she doesn't feel like going home tonight. She eyes the stage, empty with only the piano man clunking away and a vinyl record player on the side playing the jazz record. She feels at home now, with the music for company and she couldn't ask for a finer companion.

She orders lemonade, she shouldn't be drinking tonight. The poison has seeped through her veins for the last month and she won't let it kill her, fade away her soul. It's over now. She was going to start working; she was going to start living.

Her lips sip away at the clear crystal glass of the fancy bar, and her dainty fingers stir the liquid with her straw as she listens intently. It's so quiet in here and she finds a sense of peace somehow. She has no idea why but suddenly it seems like everything will fall in place.

Two men in black suits enter and sit in the corner table with their Cuban cigars, the smoke diffusing through the space and making her cough faintly as it reaches her nostrils.

She gets up and eyes the stage again. How long has it been since she had performed? She remembers the last time she had a long day at the theatre, almost a year now since she lit up the stage with her luminous grace.

Her dress sways as she walks up, the piano man still clunking away at the keys and the vinyl still rolling in the back.

She doesn't know why she does it, maybe out of sheer impulse or maybe out of instinct but she steps onto the stage and sings. She finds even though she hasn't uttered a word to anyone in so long, the sound of her voice remains intact, her voice her instrument. The men with the cigars eye her up as she belt out her favourite Barbra Streisand number, I am The Greatest Star. She shuts her eyes closed and the gentleman plays the piano mirroring her vocals. She feels the music coursing through every ebb of her body, vibrating like tempos in the violin of her soul as she breathes. She feels in her element and like everything falls into pieces around her, she smiles through her tears as she sings to a barely present audience of waiters, barmen and the men in black.

She finishes on the high note. Her smiles remain in place, proud and content. Barbra would be honoured, she thinks and she realises her ego is back. The men claps as she bows comically, stepping out of the stage and grabbing her coat on her stool.

One of the suited men approach her.

'Ma'am?'

She turns out, slightly startled. 'How'd you like to become our Friday night singer?'

She looks around at the elegant yet quaint place, she's done a lot better than this place. She has a degree in theatre and the arts, she's worked in a off Broadway show of Aladdin and had an internship with one of the greatest New York theatre companies. But she hasn't been receiving any better offers and she doesn't she why she shouldn't be opportunist now.

She smiles politely and opens her mouth to speak. Speechless. She had merely gone for an evening stroll to find her life turned around, somebody had given her a chance to feel alive.

'Yes. When do I start?'

'How about this Friday?'

She hugs the man in frill of excitement and cries tears of joy. 'Thank you!'

She sleeps for the first time that night without a nightmare, instead the swell of the jazz chords and her music imprinted on her mind, lulling her to a peaceful rest.

Nobody tells you when you start breathing again after holding your breath for so long. Nobody tells you things fall apart so you can piece it all back together in due time. Nobody tells you that you heal with music in your spirit, bouncing back with a bigger sprint, but you do.

Times heal all wounds and Rachel was on her way back to living again. She was going to shine.