and i will sing this magic (into the world)
chapter ten
Rachel and Brittany bounce in their seats as the train rumbles along the underground track, each lost in her own thoughts, navigating through her own feelings about the meeting that is soon to take place. It feels important, somehow, fraught with portents, bearing the potential to change four lives at once. The silence is unusual for them, but the way they're holding each others' hands communicates everything they're not saying out loud anyway.
Rachel, for her part, is dealing with the unfamiliar sensation of feeling nervous, which she hasn't experienced in many years, not since she was a little girl stepping onto the stage for her first few singing competitions. Thousands of performances later, she usually feels a strange sort of calm excitement before the parting of a curtain, or the first swell of music, brings her out to face an audience. She feels serene and powerful at the same time, feeding off the emotion in the songs, the attention and applause of those watching. It doesn't matter whether she's in front of a crowd of tens or hundreds; the feeling is always the same, and she finds comfort in its familiar embrace.
This feeling is so unfamiliar, so alien to her, that Rachel doesn't even know how to process it. She doesn't feel bad, or even uncomfortable, really; just different, as though she's shed her old skin and is now clothed in new flesh.
Brittany, as always, is in a happy bubble. Life for her is all about finding the joy in every possible moment, every little experience. She has no time or use for anything that doesn't make her happy, and meeting Santana has made her happier than anything else has in a long time. Her body is all abuzz, humming with anticipation as she thinks about the dark-eyed, dark-haired girl who has captured her imagination and lit her dreams on fire practically since the moment they first saw each other. Santana is a mystery wrapped in a riddle inside an enigma, triggering Brittany's insatiable curiosity in a way no one ever has before. She knows the fascination is mutual, too. All she has to do is get close to Santana, and the rest will follow easily and naturally. It's the way things have always gone with Brittany.
No matter how deep inside their heads they've gone, though, the girls are in no danger of missing their stop. This is a regular Saturday afternoon destination for them; the only reason Brittany hadn't been with Rachel the last time was Lord Tubbington's misbehavior. Happily, the feline was in a much better mood today, so there had been no problem at all in getting ready and getting out, to Rachel's relief. She had been late for the last performance, and that would never be acceptable to her, regardless of the reason.
Suddenly, Rachel's phone buzzes twice, bringing her out of her reflective state. She smiles, seeing that Quinn has sent her two messages, then gasps as she takes in their contents: a picture of a Tony Award, followed by Quinn's caption: This will be yours one day, and I'll be proud to say I knew you when you were just singing in the subway for your dinner.
"Oh, Quinn," Rachel whispers. She closes her eyes and wills herself not to start crying.
Brittany turns to look at her best friend, then glances down at the messages displayed on the phone. She smiles widely, squeezing Rachel's hand in shared happiness.
"Wow, that's really sweet," she says. "Looks like Quinn knows you pretty well already."
Rachel swallows back the happy tears that still threaten to fall. "Yes. It feels as though Quinn and I have always known each other, in a way. Or like we were destined to know each other."
Brittany nods in understanding. "I know what you mean."
Another buzz sounds, this time from Brittany's bag. She fishes around for a few moments, tongue curled over her upper lip in concentration, feeling for it - bag of gummy worms...jar of lip gloss...pack of gum...phone! - before pulling it out with a soft "yay!" of triumph.
A message from Santana. Of course. She would never allow herself to be upstaged by Quinn.
Hey Britt - why did the turkey cross the road? Because he was stapled to the chicken.
Brittany's hearty laugh barely registers with Rachel, who has retreated back into her own head, thinking about the songs she has planned to sing for Quinn. She always wants to give as close to a perfect performance as she possibly can, but now her desire is to go beyond perfection, if such a thing is possible. She wants to give a performance that will transcend anything she has ever done before.
Her voice is her gift, and she wants to give it to Quinn.
Before they know it, the train slows to their final stop. The doors open, and the girls gather Rachel's equipment and head up to the open area that Rachel has come to think of as her performance space. Brittany notices the unusual tension in the set of Rachel's shoulders, the tight line of her mouth, and it is clear to her that something is up with her best friend.
"Hey," she says, catching Rachel's attention. "You're not actually worried about this performance, are you? You're gonna kill it, just like always. You're Rachel Berry, future Broadway superstar. This is what you do – what you were born to do."
Rachel smiles thinly. It's not her usual mega-watt show smile. It's more of a grim, determined, focused smile. There's something in her that's coiled, barely contained, something beyond anything the small singer has ever unleashed before an audience before. Seeing this, Brittany knows that the unsuspecting people here today are going to hear and see something truly amazing, something they'll never forget.
But even Brittany doesn't know that today is the day that Rachel Berry will take her first real steps toward becoming a true, bona fide star.
Quinn and Santana arrive not too much later. Santana is unusually quiet and anxious, eyes constantly darting around as though Brittany is about to pop up out of nowhere. She's been edgy and fidgety the entire ride here, and Quinn has suppressed the desire to say something calm and reassuring to her best friend. She knows what this is, although she's only seen it a couple of times before. This is the way Santana gets when she really likes someone, and all of the insecurities that she keeps hidden away behind her sharp-tongued bravado, locked deep down inside, escape to the surface. She's plagued with self-doubt, wondering if Brittany really likes her, or if the girl is just pretending so that she won't feel like a third wheel when Quinn and Rachel start getting all couple-y.
Quinn, for her part, is surprisingly calm, although she had expected to feel just the opposite. Her emotions have crystallized, solidified with certainly. She knows there's something special happening between herself and Rachel, and the more she thinks about it, the more her excitement over it grows. It's not something she ever imagined happening to her, meeting someone randomly and finding that her world has been changed completely, irrevocably, as a result. No matter what else happens, she knows that having Rachel in her life, even for this short time, has already changed her. Once again, she hums the song that's been in her head all day:
Because I knew you – I have been changed for good.
"Come on, San. Pick up the pace. Rachel won't wait for us forever," she chides gently, taking Santana by the hand and pulling her along as they walk up the stairs. Quinn's step has an extra spring in it; Santana, on the other hand, is moving as though she's struggling against quicksand.
Santana huffs and her brows furrow in annoyance, but she says nothing, allowing herself to be led by her suddenly exuberant roommate.
When they get out into the open area, there see that there are already a few curious onlookers watching Rachel and Brittany set up the microphone, music stand and amplifier. Quinn sighs with relief, happy that she hasn't missed a single note. She's still dragging Santana behind her, and then suddenly her roommate's step finally quickens as Brittany comes bounding up to them.
"Hi guys! I'm so glad you're here," she says, throwing her arms first around Quinn, who returns the tight, affectionate hug with equal enthusiasm, and then around Santana, who lets out a surprised whoof at the strength of Brittany's embrace. Quinn chuckles at the way Santana's eyes pop out just a little before her lids close and she melts into the hug, clearly relishing the feel of Brittany's lithe body against her own. When Santana's eyes open again after Brittany releases her, she pouts at the loss of contact, then glares at Quinn's amused expression.
"Rachel's deep into her pre-performance psyche-up mode," Brittany says quietly as she guides them to where the little diva's ruffling through the lyric sheets arranged on the music stand. "That's why she's got that really intense face on. You can go over and talk to her, but just know that she's only going to half-listen to whatever you're saying, because she's running over the songs in her head for the last time before her set starts."
"The little hobbit really takes performing in a subway station that seriously?" Santana cracks. Aaaaand she's back. "I don't know whether to be impressed or frightened."
Brittany fixes her with a stern look. "Don't call her that. She's a professional, even if no one's hired her yet. She works really hard at this, 'cause she wants to be the best. She always says, today it might be the subway station, but tomorrow it might be Broadway. I've learned a lot from her, and I can tell you honestly that I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for Rachel's example."
Santana's jaw drops. Very few people have ever dressed her down the way Brittany just did. Fewer still have ever managed to make her feel remorse or shame over something she's said, and yet now she feels compelled to say the one word she hates above all others in the English language:
"Sorry."
Quinn hides her laugh with a hand over her mouth. Brittany beams. When she touches Santana's arm, her anger and embarrassment over being admonished by the blonde dancer disappears, and she smiles back. "Oh, no worries. Come on, say hi to Rachel before she gets started."
Rachel looks up from the music stand and sees the trio of friends coming toward her. Her face lights up when Quinn waves and smiles. She returns the wave, bouncing back and forth on her heels, smoothing down her long, flowing skirt and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Hi, Rachel," Quinn says, her voice low and breathy. "You look beautiful. Glamorous, like a star."
Rachel hugs her, and Quinn's limbs turn to jelly. "Thank you so much for coming. It means so much to me that you're here."
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," Quinn murmurs into Rachel's ear, and she feels the smaller girl tremble ever so slightly in her arms.
Reluctantly, Rachel gently but firmly pushes herself away from Quinn. Quinn doesn't miss the blush on her face, knows her own face is pink with heat. She desperately wants to gather Rachel into her arms again, but she knows it's almost showtime, and she really doesn't want to be any more of a distraction.
Santana grips Quinn's arm and says, "Come on. Let the diva finish preparing so she can get her show on in the manner to which she is accustomed."
Quinn blinks at her. Santana rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I know how to speak the Queen's English and shit. I just don't, most of the time. Now, seriously, lets back up off Rachel and give her some room to breathe here."
Brittany beams at Santana, who winks in response. "Well, look who's finally gotten over her anxiety attack," Quinn says tartly, eyebrow raised for full effect.
"Shut up, Q."
The crowd has grown, and Rachel looks at her watch. Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and counts to twenty. It's time.
"Hello and good afternoon, everyone. My name is Rachel Berry. I'm a Musical Theater / Vocal Performance major at the New York Academy for Dramatic Arts, or NYADA for short, and it will be my pleasure to sing for you today..."
Quinn had thought the performance she'd seen the other week was extraordinary, but this...this was otherworldly. Rachel has brought herself to another level, and it's breathtaking to watch her. She couldn't tear her eyes away if she wanted to, which she definitely doesn't want to do, thanks to the plunging V of Rachel's wine-colored dress's neckline, and the generous slit up the side of the long skirt, which exposes a good deal of tanned, toned, perfectly shaped leg. Besides that, though, the girl's voice was simply flawless. Her range is phenomenal, her tone absolutely perfect, and goodness, the power! God, she's incredible, Quinn thinks. She is simply spellbinding, and everyone who walks by stops in their tracks, held in thrall by the magic of the enormous voice that comes out of Rachel's small body.
Even Santana's jaw drops at several points during the first song alone. "Damn, Q," she whispers in Quinn's ear between songs. "I mean, I know you said she was good, but I honestly never thought she could possibly be, y'know, this good."
Brittany, whose cat-like hearing enables her to catch Santana's quietly stated admission, smiles an uncharacteristically smug smile at the two friends next to her and says simply, "She's just getting started. Trust me, you haven't heard anything yet."
Meanwhile, just below them, another train pulls in, and a passenger tumbles out of it unsteadily, wobbling on her too-high heels for a moment before managing to focus her bleary eyes on the stairs leading upward and away from the platform.
Her name is April Rhodes, one-time big shot agent to the stars, now reduced to trying to salvage her career by hooking up with a fledgling agency run by two newcomers to the business. She's tipsy after another morning-into-afternoon in the bar, only vaguely cognizant of where she is or where she's trying to go. It's been another lost weekend so far, and all she wants to do now is find her way back to her bed, and the tall bottle of Scotch on the nightstand next to it. She knows it's out there, that one voice that's going turn her luck around, but she's damned if she can even guess at where it might be found, and she's just too tired to keep searching at this point.
And then she hears it, this amazing young female voice, emerging out of nowhere, cutting through the fog in her brain. Powerful, brimming with pure emotion, yet possessed of a precision and control she's only heard a handful of times in her life. Her eyes widen and her ears perk up. Where is this girl? Where? Where?
Upstairs. She hiccups, adjusts the collar of her white shirt, tucks the side of it that's come untucked back into her skin-tight white pants and steels herself for the daunting task before her: getting up the stairs without falling back down and possibly breaking something, like her tailbone. Ouch. Yeah, that would suck, breaking your tailbone. Definitely don't want to do that.
April leans over the handrail, grasping it like it's a lifeline, using her hands and arms to pull the rest of her body up the stairs. It's not pretty or graceful, two things she thinks she used to be, although maybe she's still pretty, at least. Gets the job done, though, and with every step, the angelic voice that's singing grows clearer and louder. Her skin prickles with goosebumps, and her spine arches with a chill that starts at her neck and goes all the way down.
She turns her head, trying to get a look at the girl who's singing, but the crowd is too thick, and her diminutive stature doesn't afford her the ability to see over all those heads. So she decides to thread her way through the crush of spectators as gently as she can, which will not be easy in her condition - but hey, she's done harder things in her life. Like star in an all-white production of The Wiz back when she was in high school, for example.
The song ends, and the girl speaks to the audience in a voice that's somehow at once shy and confident.
"This next song is for a very special person who's become very important to me in a very short span of time. She told me this is one of her favorite songs, so I hope I do an extra-good job of singing it today."
The voice is plaintive, but defiant, each word shaped with love and conviction.
You're not alone ~ Together we stand
I'll be by your side ~ You know I'll take your hand
When it gets cold ~ And it feels like the end
There's no place to go ~ You know I won't give in
No, I won't give in
The chorus is sung with strength and determination, rising in volume, but never losing the emotion.
Keep holding on
Cause you know we'll make it through ~ We'll make it through
Just stay strong
Cause you know I'm here for you ~ I'm here for you
There's nothing you can say
Nothing you can do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So, keep holding on
Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through
The next verse starts out soft, almost wistful. Every single soul in the place is moved by how deeply felt the words seem to be.
So far away ~ I wish you were here
Before it's too late ~ This could all disappear
Before the door's closed ~ And it comes to an end
With you by my side ~ I will fight and defend
I'll fight and defend, yeah, yeah
The defiant attitude returns by the end of the verse, and the girl's voice soars into the chorus.
Keep holding on
Cause you know we'll make it through ~ We'll make it through
Just stay strong
Cause you know I'm here for you ~ I'm here for you
There's nothing you can say
Nothing you can do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So, keep holding on
Cause you know we'll make it through ~ We'll make it through
April's progress through the crowd is slow, but steady, and she finally gets her first glimpse of the girl who's singing: she's short, barely over five feet – something to which April can relate, she thinks wryly to herself – and her long, dark hair cascades in soft waves onto and past her shoulders. Her large, expressive eyes are deep chocolate pools of swirling emotion. Her mouth twists with feeling when she sings the next lines.
Hear me when I say, when I say I believe
Nothing's gonna change, nothing's gonna change destiny
Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
La da da da, la da da da
La da da da da da da da da
It sounds like a call to arms, like victory, when the girl drives the chorus into the stratosphere one more time.
Keep holding on
Cause you know we'll make it through ~ We'll make it through
Just stay strong
Cause you know I'm here for you ~ I'm here for you
There's nothing you can say ~ Nothing you can do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So, keep holding on
Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through
There are tears freely streaming down the singer's face now, and when she gets to the last lines, her voice is barely above a ragged whisper, yet somehow there's still a spine of iron in it.
Ahh, ahh
Keep holding on
Ahh, ahh
Keep holding on
There's nothing you can say ~ Nothing you can do
There's no other way when it comes to the truth
So, keep holding on
Cause you know we'll make it through
We'll make it through
We'll make it through
The crowd stands in stunned silence for a moment, as though unable to believe what they've just seen and heard. April scans the faces of some of the people around her; there's not a dry eye to be seen. She's surprised to find her own cheeks wet with tears she hadn't even realized she'd shed. Then the thunder of applause replaces the silence. A happy laugh bursts forth from the crying girl at the microphone, and she says, "That was for you, Quinn. I hope you liked it."
Quinn feels as though her heart has been gently removed from her body, then kissed, caressed and wrapped in a silken blanket before being placed back into her chest. If there had been even the tiniest shred of doubt as to how she felt about Rachel, and how Rachel felt about her, it's been blown away like a withered leaf in an autumn wind. She catches Santana wiping her eyes too, but says nothing as Brittany pulls her close and lets her rest her head on a strong shoulder.
The next few songs pass by in a blur for Quinn, until she hears Rachel mention her name again when introducing the next one she's going to sing.
"So this one is another of Quinn's favorites, and it's one of mine as well. I'd like to dedicate it not only to her, but to her best friend and roommate Santana, and my best friend and roommate Brittany. In fact, if they would be so kind, I'd like them to come up here and sing this song with me." She turns away from the microphone as her shocked friends walk over to her, then gives them their instructions quickly.
"I know you all know it very well. Quinn, you take the second verse; Britt, you take the third verse. Then, Quinn, you'll take the little interlude section, and Santana, you bring it home with the angels and the choir and all that. Okay? Okay."
Satisfied, Rachel smiles sweetly, claps her hands and turns back to the microphone, but before she can speak, Santana says, "Rachel, how do you even know I can sing?"
"Quinn's told me a lot about you," the singer replies, and then the music starts and there's no more time to speak.
[Rachel]
Give me a second I,
I need to get my story straight
My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State
My lover she's waiting for me just across the bar
My seat's been taken by some sunglasses asking about a scar, and
[Quinn]
I know I gave it to you months ago
I know you're trying to forget
But between the drinks and subtle things
The holes in my apologies, you know
I'm trying hard to take it back
[All]
Tonight, we are young Tonight, we are young
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
[Rachel, Quinn]
So if by the time the bar closes
And you feel like falling down
I'll carry you home tonight
So if by the time the bar closes
And you feel like falling down, I'll carry you home
[All]
Tonight, we are young Tonight, we are young
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
[Brittany]
Now I know that I'm not
All that you got, I guess that I, I just thought
Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart
But our friends are back
So let's raise a tab
'Cause I found someone to carry me home
[All]
Tonight, we are young
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
Tonight, we are young
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
[Quinn]
Carry me home tonight (Na na na na na na)
Just carry me home tonight (Na na na na na na)
Carry me home tonight (Na na na na na na)
Just carry me home tonight (Na na na na na na)
[Santana]
The world is on my side
I have no reason to run
So will someone come and carry me home tonight
The angels never arrived
But I can hear the choir
So will someone come and carry me home
[All]
Tonight, we are young Tonight, we are young
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun
[Rachel, Quinn]
So if by the time the bar closes
And you feel like falling down
I'll carry you home tonight
The four girls laugh and hug as the crowd applauds again. April had sung along softly herself, forgetting her role as a professional observer and just going along with the music.
Quinn could not remember the last time she'd felt so free, so exhilarated. Rachel's joy and laughter is so infectious that she can't stop smiling. She holds Santana's left hand while Brittany has linked her pinky with the pinky on Santana's right hand, and they both look as happy as Quinn feels. Rachel's smile is so wide it's threatening to slide right off her face.
"Okay!" she says, clapping her hands. "That ends the audience participation portion of the show." The crowd laughs. She's had them in the palm of her hand since the beginning. "Next I would like to sing several Broadway classics for you..."
April stares in disbelief and complete amazement as Rachel proceeds to completely kill it on Send in the Clowns, Memory and an especially spirited rendition of Don't Rain on My Parade. She's wondering where in the world this girl came from when she realizes that she's speaking again.
"Thank you all so very much for allowing me to perform for you today. It's been an honor and a privilege. I would like to end my set today with another song for Quinn. I know, I know, I must be embarrassing you by now, and I'm sorry, I really am, but I did only ask you for one favorite song and you gave me three, so..."
Quinn blushes bright red as the crowd laughs again. Santana playfully tap-punches her on the arm and Brittany feeds Santana a gummy worm from the bag in her purse.
It's been a pretty perfect afternoon so far.
The familiar opening notes of Cyndi Lauper's True Colors waft into the air, and Rachel closes her eyes as she begins to sing. Quinn's breath hitches; it's a song that's gotten her through a lot of lonely days and sleepless nights, and to hear Rachel sing it is almost more than she can bear. Her heart clenches when Rachel belts out the chorus:
I see your true colors shining through ~ I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid ~ To let them show
Your true colors ~ Your true colors
Your true colors are beautiful ~ Like a rainbow...
The crowd whoops and cheers and whistles erupt, high and piercing, out of the low thunder of its applause. April hopes no one's noticed that it's her with her fingers in her mouth, emitting the loudest, highest-pitched whistle imaginable.
"Thank you all again, so much, for sticking around for my little show. My name, in case you missed it, is Rachel Berry, and if you liked what you heard, I'll be back again next week so you can hear more of it. In the meantime, please get home safely and enjoy the rest of the weekend."
The crowd breaks up, shuffles off. A few come up to Rachel to tell her how much they enjoyed her set and promise to return to hear again sometime, maybe even next week. Rachel accepts the praise gracefully, smiling her mega-watt smile, looking more pleased than Quinn's ever seen her.
Before Quinn can step towards Rachel, her arms absolutely aching to hold the small singer, a short blonde haired woman bursts forward out of the dissipating crowd and thrusts her hand out
for Rachel to shake.
"Hiya kid," she says, and there's only the barest trace of her previously intoxicated state in her speech, for which she is grateful. Rachel accepts the handshake offer and responds, slightly puzzled by this wisp of a woman who looks like a cross between Tinkerbell and a Q-Tip. "I'm sorry, but you are...?"
April produces her wallet from her purse, pulls what appears to be a business card from it, and makes a great show of flourishing it toward the young singer.
Rachel accepts the handshake and the business card, and April smiles sweetly as she says, "Kid, you've got a great career ahead of you, and to achieve your fullest potential, you're going to need someone to represent you so that you get the best possible deals, whether it's on Broadway, on TV or the movies. It would be an honor for us and a blessing for you if you chose us to be your agents. April Rhodes at your service here, with the Clean Schues talent agency."
Quinn looks over Rachel's shoulder to read the card, then observes the agent's flushed countenance. She's seen the kind of worn, haunted expression and almost-but-not-quite fake smile she's wearing many times before, and she knows instantly what this woman was doing before she got here.
It's the same look she's seen on her own mother's face far too many times.
Santana recognizes it as well, and she squeezes Quinn's hand, knowing the pain her best friend is feeling at this moment. The memories make her heart ache too.
Rachel, of course, doesn't know any of this; her face betrays a myriad of emotions in a matter of seconds. Confusion and uncertainty are quickly followed by shock, amazement and finally, pure happiness. She gasps, then squeals, and finally laughs out loud. Brittany hugs her even as Quinn and Santana remain lost in their own shared memories.
April watches the interactions between the four girls; she can see the wary protectiveness in the shorter blonde's expression, the guilt and anger in the tight, suspicious look on the Latina girl's face. They don't trust her. She can't really blame them, but on the other hand, they don't know how hard she's been trying to get things right in this last difficult year.
Rachel, on the other hand, is beaming at her as though she's just met Santa Claus, Barbra Streisand and the President of the United States all at once. Tears are flowing from her eyes once again, and she says quietly, in a small voice that's the complete opposite of the powerful one that had filled this place only a few minutes before, "You...you really want me? Really?"
"Do I – we – want you?" April chuckles, shaking her head at how adorable this girl is. "Kid, I've been looking for you my whole career. Yes, of course! Look, I've got to go now – it's happy hour somewhere, don't you know – but you can expect a call from my bosses, Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury, on Monday. I saw a bunch of people recording this little show on their phones,
so I'm pretty sure you're already being uploaded to YouTube as we speak, and I'd be willing to bet that you've got your own channel there anyway, so I can tell you it's a sure thing that they're going to be chomping at the bit to get your name on a contract before someone else comes sniffing around here. You want to be the next big thing, kid? You're on your way, starting now."
"Oh my God! I can't believe this is happening!" Rachel cries, her small body vibrating with excitement. She grabs April by the arms, effectively immobilizing her, and looks her directly in the eye. "I'm going to hug you now. Okay?"
"Okay, darlin'. Come here," April says, smiling. The girl doesn't need to be told twice, and she launches herself at April to wrap her body up in a fierce embrace.
Keeping her eyes open, April doesn't miss the hard looks being shot at her by Quinn, Santana and Brittany. I'll have to stay on my toes with these three around, she thinks. Good. Too many youngsters don't have anyone watching their backs in this business. God knows I didn't when I first started out. And it nearly cost me everything.
Rachel releases April from her hold and wipes her eyes. "Thank you," she says. "Thank you so, so much."
"Someone was bound to find you sooner or later, kid. I'm just glad it was me. Now, remember: make sure you're by the phone on Monday morning, okay? I've gotta go. We'll be in touch." She nods to the girls standing with Rachel. "Nice meeting y'all. Take care now."
And with that, April Rhodes turns and walks away, feeling truly happy for the first time in she doesn't even know how long. She's not really sure where she's going from here, but she hardly cares at this point. Things are finally looking up.
Quinn watches the woman go, shaking her head at the still present wobble in her step. She's not really sure how she feels about all this, but decides to put her worries aside for now, seeing Rachel so happy and excited, jumping up and down in Brittany's arms once again.
Santana puts her arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Quinn. We'll run a background check on these people and make sure they're legit before anybody signs anything. Nobody's gonna take advantage of your girl except you," she says, suggestively raising her eyebrows and smirking that ridiculous smirk of hers.
Quinn's about to respond to her best friend's implication when Rachel touches her hand, instantly refocusing her attention on the little diva.
"Quinn?" she asks in a quiet voice. "You...you haven't said anything. Are you okay?"
"Me? Of course I am. I'm sorry – I didn't mean to worry you. I'm just..."
"Just what?""
Quinn takes a deep breath. She's not going to darken this moment for Rachel. Yes, she has her concerns, but now is not the time to discuss them. Now is the time for them to be happy, to celebrate, and to be proud of what Rachel has achieved.
"Just...really, really happy for you, Rachel. This is amazing! I'm so proud of you," she exclaims, pulling Rachel into her arms for a tender hug.
"You're like a good luck charm, Quinn," Rachel says, her face buried in Quinn's shoulder. And then she pulls away slightly, looks up into Quinn's hazel eyes. Her lips are glistening and her hair is shining and Quinn's pretty sure she's never seen anyone look more beautiful than Rachel does right now.
Suddenly, the world melts away, and there's only a pair of warm little hands fisted in her shirt, a supple body pressed against her own and two impossibly deep chocolate eyes swirling with emotion looking up at her. She can only hear her own heart beating in time with Rachel's, the slow rise and fall of their breathing, and she finds their mouths being drawn together, their lips barely brushing against each other at first, then pressing lightly, as if testing their strength.
The pressure increases, and Quinn feels as though she's floating, spinning slowly in air. Her fingers curl, her hands grasping at Rachel's slender waist. Rachel's lips are so warm, so soft, but unyielding, unrelenting. A pink tongue pokes out between them and slips into Quinn's mouth, twisting, turning, stealing her breath. She's delirious with pleasure. Her heart is pounding, her lungs are burning, her limbs are trembling and aching.
It's the most delicious pain Quinn has ever experienced in her life, and she never wants it to end.
Disclaimer: I don't own "Glee" or any of the songs mentioned in this chapter.