Warning: This chapter may seem a little OOC….if you believe Jesse would never get drunk and Rachel would never even consider doing such a thing.
"Kurt! I need your help," Rachel said into the phone. Pacing back and forth in the hotel room, she stared at the scattered pieces of clothing on the floor.
"Fashion emergency?" he asked quickly.
"How did you know?"
"There are very few times where people need my help. Fashion is always the reason. Now what do you need an outfit for?""
"A bunch of the cast is going out to a club tonight. I've never even been to a club before! The only ones in Ohio were full of sleazy people! What the hell am I supposed to wear?"
"Calm down, Rachel. Tell me what clothes you brought with you. We'll work with what you have."
"Uhm, I brought a sweater with a bear on it, a sweater with a cat on it, and-"
"Skip the animal sweaters!" Kurt shouted through the phone.
"I barely have anything else! There's a polka-dot dress and a striped one, but they both come below my knee. I need something short, right?"
"Jesse's going to be there, right?"
"Yeah…"
"Then yes, you definitely need something short. This might be a stretch, but do you have anything, you know, sexy?"
Her eyes landed on the black mini-dress she had discarded in the corner of the room.
"Wear it. I don't care what it is, but judging from your silence, it must be so bad that you don't even want to put it on."
"Kurt, it's a black mini-dress! I'm going to look like a hooker!"
"And who told you that?" he asked. "Finn? Rachel, he's the same boy who actually wears those awful jacket vests. Take it from me, that dress will be perfect. You'll have Jesse back in your arms in no time."
"I don't want him in my arms!" Rachel objected loudly.
"Right, you're just in denial. I want him back in your arms. Aside from my prejudice towards him for stealing my solos and quite possibly being a spy, I thought you two made the cutest couple."
"He's got a girlfriend," Rachel muttered, trying not to sound bitter.
"But I just Facebook stalked him the other day! His relationship status is single."
"I don't Kurt," she sighed. "I think he's trying to take things slow with her. It doesn't even matter, though. I don't like him."
"Whatever you say, hun. Just make sure to wear that mini-dress. Even if you aren't trying to impress Jesse, it's the only thing that's appropriate."
"Kurt, what if some random guy tries to, you know…" Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the mental pictures.
"What?" he laughed. "Rape you? You're going to a club. Not a gang meeting. Besides, Jesse will protect you."
"Stop with that!" she groaned. Kurt laughed and explained that Blaine was calling, leading to a disconnect seconds later.
As much as he could be annoying, there was something about talking to Kurt that was a comfort.
Hours later Rachel was pushed up against a limousine window, being successfully squished in the too-small vehicle for the twenty cast members. Someone had pulled out a pack of beer, and it was making its way around the circle.
"Want some?" asked a certain curly-haired boy, the cause of Rachel's current uncomfortable position.
"How about you make some room for me first?" she muttered, shoving his arm.
He moved over as much as he could, and Rachel was left with slightly more room to breathe.
"Want some?" Jesse repeated. Rachel stared at the beer can in disgust.
"I'm only seventeen. You're only nineteen. Last time I checked, the drinking age was twenty-one."
"You sound like my mom," Jesse drawled, and Rachel glanced at the two empty cans on his lap.
"You get tipsy after only three beers? I think that's reason enough to prove that you're too young to be drinking."
"Rachel," he said slowly. "I'm Jesse St. James. I can do whatever I want. I'm…" he blinked slowly, as if he didn't know where he was. "I'm king of the world!" he shouted, causing the rest of the limo to cheer.
"Well, king of the world, why don't you declare this to the rest of Hollywood?" Caleb suggested from the opposite side of the circle of people.
"You know what? I think I will. Open the sunroof," Jesse commanded, taking another swig of beer.
"Jesse," Rachel said warily, eyeing the opened sunroof, "I don't think this is smart."
"What are you talking about? I'm at UCLA. I'm smart," he said drunkenly, pushing his way through the roof. Rachel dipped her head in embarrassment as she listened to the ridiculous things coming out of Jesse's mouth.
"I'm king of the world!" he shouted again, only this time the entire boulevard could hear him. Jesse then proceeded to sing a completely off-key rendition of "My Heart Will Go On", to the horror of Rachel.
"Can someone please pull him back inside?" she asked sharply. "With our luck a cop will see him and give us a ticket for disturbing the peace."
Nobody seemed to hear her over the laughter of fellow cast members and Jesse's obnoxiously loud singing. A few minutes later, Jesse bid his goodbyes to the public and came back through the roof, greeted with applause.
"Oh stop it!" he laughed, sitting down next to Rachel. "How was I?" he asked her, his breath heavy with the smell of alcohol.
"You drank more than three cans of beer," she stated. "I didn't think you could be so stupid."
"Rachel! I'm just having fun!" he slurred. "It's our last night of freedom! Take advantage of it."
"No thanks," she murmured, wrinkling her nose at the stench. She tugged at her mini-dress, thinking that it was a mistake to come.
The limo began to slow down as they reached the front of the Nitro Night Club. A mixture of cheers, applause, and overall drunkendness erupted from the car as the doors were flung open before the driver had even properly stopped. Rachel momentarily contemplated remaining in the limo for the rest of the night, but finally decided that just checking out the inside of the club wouldn't do any harm. Besides, if anything, the limo was supposed to be stationed outside the entire time; she could always come back.
Inside, the club was pulsating to the beat of the heavy metal music coming through scattered speakers. Before Rachel even knew what was happening, she was swept into the mass of dancers on the floor, trying to fight her way out. She felt a pair of hands wrap around her waist, and she flung her hand backwards, hoping it connected with the owner of the hands' face.
"What the hell?" a male grunted, and Rachel turned triumphantly around to see what kind of slime had grabbed her. Turned out, that so-called slime was Jesse. A small trail of blood was making its way down Jesse's chin from his lip.
"Ohmigod, I'm sorry. I didn't realize…" Rachel started, but Jesse swatted away her words.
"Don't matter," he mumbled, swaying slightly on his feet. Suddenly, a squeal erputed from behind Rachel, and she turned to see the source. Marisa.
"Jesse!" she squeaked. "Why's your lip bleeding? Is it going to mess up that beautiful face of yours?"
"I dunno," he shrugged as Marisa wrapped her arms around him. "Let's dance," he said, leaving Rachel alone without even a goodbye.
Not that you could really expect that from a drunk person, Rachel thought. She never really took Jesse as the drinking type. Maybe he wasn't, and that was why he was reacting so strongly after only a couple of beers.
Rachel made her way over to an empty stool at the bar, quickly shaking her head when the bartender approached her. She sat for a while watching the swarm of dancers. Most of them were intoxicated, and Rachel was amused by some of their dance moves. Soon a skinny blonde floated over to the bar, bumping into Rachel as she took a seat.
"Why aren't you dancing…or drinking?" she asked, and by the way her eyes remained unfocused, Rachel could tell she was pretty drunk.
"I don't feel- wait! You're Bethany Viola! Aren't you nominated for a Golden Globe?"
The woman glanced at Rachel and frowned. "Just cause I'm a movie star doesn't mean I can't party every once in a while."
"I didn't mean it like that," Rachel back-tracked. "I was just surprised to see you."
"Well, I'm pretty surprised to see you here, too," Bethany drawled as the bartender set a flask in front of her.
"You know who I am?"
"Mhm, you're the Rasberry girl."
"Do you mean Rachel Berry?"
"Sure." Bethany nodded quickly. "Where's your boyfriend?"
"He's over-" Rachel broke off, her cheeks reddening. "Jesse's not my boyfriend."
"But you want him to be," Bethany volunteered, staring at her drink."
"We're just friends."
Bethany turned and looked at the empty table spot in front of Rachel. "You're never going to make it in Hollywood."
"What?" Rachel frowned, taken back.
"You don't drink, you-"
"I'm underage!"
"It doesn't matter," Bethany rolled her eyes. "You don't do drugs. Please, if you don't drink, you definitely wouldn't do drugs. And by the looks of it, you're still a virgin."
"I don't see a problem with that," Rachel muttered, covering her chest protectively.
"The only way to get your name out there is by doing something bad."
"Well, I don't want to make it in Hollywood. I want to make it on Broadway," she said triumphantly.
"I suspect it's the same there. Honey, it's all the same everywhere. Trust me. I've been in this business long enough." A muscular man in his twenties came up behind Bethany and put his arms around her.
"Beth, baby, don't you want to dance? I'm getting antsy."
Bethany rolled her eyes at Rachel. "Rachel Berry, meet Greg Tenley. Greg, Rachel. Why don't you go dance with her? I need another drink."
Greg glanced at Rachel and smirked. "She doesn't seem to be the dirty dancing type."
"Then teach her!" Bethany spat, ordering another drink. "It's Rachel or nothing."
"What if I don't want to dance with him?" Rachel objected.
"Aw, don't hurt my feelings like that." Greg said, grabbing her hand. "Just follow my lead." He pulled Rachel onto the dance floor and immediately began to grind against her. Spotting Jesse not too far away, Rachel began to grind back, thinking Why not? A surge of jealousy rolled through her, and she began to put her whole self into the dancing. Rachel spotted Jesse staring at her; he was frowning. Then Greg began to get a little bit rougher, causing some of the nearby dancers to notice. Before Rachel knew it, Greg was on the ground and someone was standing over him.
"My girlfriend!" the person slurred, and Rachel realized it was Jesse. He turned and grabbed Rachel's arm, pulling her towards an abandoned corner of the room. Greg remained on the ground, clutching his hands to his nose.
"You can't dance with him!" Jesse shouted once they were alone.
"Why not?" Rachel asked. "You were dancing with Marisa! It's none of your business what I do!"
"But you're my girlfriend!"
"What?" Rachel asked quietly. "No I'm not."
Jesse threw his head into his hands. "I need another drink."
"Maybe you've had too many."
"Jesse!" Marisa screamed, running over to them. "What did you do to that man? You can't just go up to people and punch them like that!"
"I did it cause…" Jesse spoke slowly, trying to keep his eyes on Marisa.
"You did it why?" Marisa shouted back impatiently.
"…I don't feel so good," he muttered, and proceeded to pass out directly on top of Rachel.
Once back in her hotel room, Rachel reflected on the previous hour. After Jesse passed out, a security guard had arrived and immediately called 911. Gathering the rest of the cast, they waited for an ambulance to come and tried to figure out how they were going to tell Shelby what happened. Minutes before the ambulance arrived, though, Jesse came to. It was obvious he remembered nothing of the evening, and not wanting to cause any more damage, the cast left Nitro and headed back to the hotel.
Rachel's thoughts turned to Bethany and all she had said about how to make it in Hollywood. Was what she said true? Did you have to be an alcoholic, druggie, or sex maniac to make it big? Should she really risk her own health for that? Rachel wasn't the type of person to do things like that. Yet again, Rachel wasn't the type of person who let anything get in the way of her achieving her dreams.
Everything was a jumbled mess, and Rachel decided the only way to figure everything out was to sleep off all the crazy feelings she had accumulated inside of the club. There would be tons of time to think about these things at rehearsal tomorrow. Rehearsal…oh god. What would Shelby say if she found out about what happened? Rachel didn't want to know.
Author's Note: EW! A late update again. =( Sorry readers, my writer's block has been pretty annoying lately. Thanks to all those who reviewed last chapter. I was a little upset at the lack of reviews, but I'm sure you guys will make me happy this week =D REVIEW!
