Chapter 11.

June, 2015. (A week and a half later)

Rachel burst out laughing. All the stress that Roger and the wedding and the balancing schedules had been building up in her was always released while at dance rehearsal with Finn. Their choreographer was a total riot, and his ostentatious personality coupled with Finn's reliably horrific sense of physical rhythm (which so didn't make sense considering he was a drummer and everything) had made for some very comic dance rehearsals.

Pre-production for the movie was beginning splendidly. The cast meet and greet had been the previous week, and Rachel had been pleasantly surprised to find that she didn't have any qualms with any of her fellow cast members. Their voices were all appropriately inferior to hers, and even though the girl who was playing Galinda did have a really small perfect upturned nose and way too long of a broadway resume for being only 24 years old, Rachel hadn't felt threatened by her.. She was the main star of the film after all. And being friends with Finn had helped her confidence too, it was as if having an experienced friend by her side made her feel more secure or something.

Sure, that trollop Melissa Holloway had been way too territorial over Finn, but it hadn't bothered Rachel too much. Who wouldn't feel worried if their boyfriend was working with such a stunning and talented young star.

But as far as she was concerned, Melissa had nothing to worry about. Rachel had swept the events that had almost occurred in the alleyway aside, attributing it as one those mere anomalies that the universe sometimes spontaneously threw at you.

Anywho, they were almost finished with the last rehearsal of the week, and everything had thus far gone smoothly. And Rachel, with Finn's help, was actually bonding with some of the co-stars and back-up dancers.

"Alright guys," Josh, their choreographer yelled, "I think that's a wrap for today. Now these routines aren't too difficult so hopefully they'll stay etched in your memories over the weekend. See you Monday!"

And with that they were done. Walking towards the bag cubbies, Rachel couldn't help but watch Finn approach her through her peripheral vision.

"God I had forgotten how grueling dancing can be," he huffed, grabbing her bag before she could reach it to hand it to her.

She smiled at him, "Yeah, it's good to see something things never change. You for one, are still an uncoordinated mess."

"Hey," replied Finn, playfully offended, "My dancing has gotten a lot better."

"That's true," she admitted, giggling again at the memory of some of his quintessentially oafish Finn moments at McKinley.

She watched him demonstrate a couple of overly clumsy dance moves. That boy would do anything for a laugh.

And it worked. She had laughed so much during the past few hours that she seemed to have a permanent stitch in her side.

And while cracking up as he proudly made a total fool of himself, Rachel realized something. When she had first met Finn after their prolonged separation, she had found him almost unrecognizable, he had been so much harder and sadder than the boy she had used to know. But it was moments like these, when he just let loose, that she understood that he hadn't changed irretrievably. Deep down he was still the same adorable teddy bear she had cared so much for.

"So," he started, interrupting her thoughts as they entered the lobby of the dance studio, "You up for a quick bite to eat before your show?"

Rachel looked up into his excited eyes.

"I wish I could, but unfortunately I need to be at the theatre in a half hour."

Finn's face fell, but he covered his disappointment quickly.

"Tough luck.. I can't even imagine having to anchor an entire show after this day.. today was especially rigorous. I mean, 7 straight hours of dancing that routine? I'm totally spent."

Rachel laughed indulgently.

"Yeah, well you never really had that incomparable Rachel Berry stamina.."

...

Finn halted. Had she just made a sexual innuendo? Because if he recalled correctly, they had both had extremely large sexual appetites..

"-oh wait," she started, realizing the misinterpretation, "I didn't mean that to sound.. you know.."

He gave her a conniving smile, he wasn't going to let her get off that easily.

"Sound like what?" he asked innocently.

She slapped him with her purse, "You know exactly what I mean smarty pants."

He laughed.

"But," she continued, "I'll be free after the show, if you'd still want to grab a bite to eat around 10?"

He felt his spirits soar, but he tried not to let his sudden mood change show on his face.

"Well you know me, I could eat anytime anywhere, so 10 o clock tonight sounds perfect. I'll meet you backstage?"

Rachel laughed, "Yes, it's Bill and Harry's shift again tonight, so you guys can catch up."

Finn laughed, glad that he had something to look forward to. He stopped a cab for her before pulling her in for a quick goodbye hug, "Alright sounds like a plan."

Rachel flushed at the sudden contact, before waving spritely and getting into the yellow car.

After watching the cab drive away, Finn decided to walk back to his hotel. A good stretching of his legs always helped clear his head.

Unfortunately that clarity was soon marred by Melissa's obnoxious ring tone.

Looking at the number guiltily, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey sweetums, I was just calling to remind you about that dinner you promised to attend with me tonight?"

"Oh crap Mel, I'm really sorry but I totally forgot. I don't think I can actually make it because I don't really have anything to wear. I left all my formal clothing in LA, plus, I sort of have plans to eat with some of the cast.."

That wasn't totally untrue..

"Wow Finn. Way to win the award for most disappointing and flaky boyfriend ever, again. I'll just go by myself. But do not forget about that benefit at the Met on Saturday. I'll go out and buy you a suit myself if I have to, to stop you from making any more of your lame excuses to be a reclusive alcoholic."

"Whoa- that was uncalled for."

"Finn, I've been here for almost two weeks and I've hardly spent any time with you. You're always working or being silent and broody with your whiskey. The only time I've seen you happy is when you're with that mini transvestite, and how do you think that makes me, your girlfriend feel?"

She had a point. He was that guy. The douche bag that emotionally cheated on his faithful albeit annoying girlfriend. And because he knew he didn't have a chance to be with the girl he really wanted to be with, he strung another girl along even though he'd never be able to fully return her feelings.

But then on the other hand, Finn knew he was never going to fully get over Rachel. So he couldn't always play the martyr who sacrificed any chance of being apart of a real relationship just because part of his heart (hell who was he kidding, his whole heart) would always belong to someone else.

"Look, I haven't been completely honest with you Melissa. The truth is, Rachel and I went to high school together and were good friends once upon a time. The reason I like being with her so much is because she helps remind me of the old Finn, the Finn from Ohio who was always happy-go-lucky and positive-"

"Well excuse me for being out of the loop, again" she said, interrupting him, "But maybe if you ever talked about your stupid past with me we wouldn't be having this conversation. Anyways, I need to finish getting ready for the dinner, I'll see you later tonight."

He listened to the light click signaling the end the conversation, wrestling with his conscience. Was he being unfair to Melissa? He just didn't know anymore.

But what he did know was that being with Rachel made him feel good again. And because he knew nothing was going to happen between them because of this odd "friends who pretend they don't have a romantic past and almost kiss when they let their guards down" deal they had going on, then it wasn't technically cheating. It really wasn't.

...

Rachel paused, mid-make-up removal, as she heard a knock on the door of her dressing room. She glanced at her clock, it was only 9:40, how had Finn known the show had finished early tonight? Glancing at her reflection in her light bulb lit vanity mirror, she quickly rubbed off the remnants of her bright red lipstick (the most glaringly off-putting of her stage make-up) and made sure her cream colored blouse and jeans were in place, before hurrying to the door.

She opened the door slowly, peeking through the sliver, just in case it was a serial killer (it never hurt to be too prepared for any situation).

A warm almond-shaped brown eye descended to meet hers.

"What game are we playing?" Finn whispered through the crack.

Rachel laughed before removing her head and pulling the door wide open.

"Sorry I was just checking to see who the visitor was, you are awfully early.."

Finn laughed as he was welcomed in, "Yeah I had nothing better to do so I came to see the show, and I must say, you remain dazzling even after the seventh performance."

He handed her an enormous bouquet of pink, orange, and white gerber daisies to accompany his congratulations. Rachel gave him a huge smile when she saw them, those flowers always had the most cheering effect on her.

"Aw Finn you shouldn't have! These are gorgeous, thank you!"

As she walked towards the other side of her spacious dressing room to find an empty vase, her initial disarm at the flowers faded and she realized he had just said he had seen her show seven times.

"Wait," she said, looking across towards the tall man sifting through her bounteous and cluttered flower arrangements (she was given enough flowers after every performance to start a small florist shop), "you've been to my show seven times? since when?"

He occupied himself with a bunch of wilted gardenias, "Oh yeah.. that was a bit of an exaggeration."

The embarrassed look on his face told her it wasn't. But he quickly changed the subject before she could question him more.

"Why aren't there any other gerber daisies here? Only these rotted white ones," he lifted the gardenias in his hand, "these weird ones," he gestured to the rows and rows of orchids, "and all these roses," he pointed conclusively at the neglected pile of bouquets in the farthest corner, "when I know you hate roses because you once told me that flowers weren't supposed to prick you and therefor it didn't matter how nice they smelt because their thorns negated any nice qualities they might have."

Rachel walked past him (he was sitting on her crimson velvet lounging chaise, in between the flowers and the cookie baskets) to lay the glass vase with his flowers in it on the broad silver counter in front of her massive mirror. How had he remembered her words verbatim?

She leaned against the counter, finally turning to look at him.

He was now casually munching on a "Please Marry Me" iced cookie he had just nicked from a basket.

"Hey-" she started, "I usually send those to homeless shelters, so right now, you're stealing from a starving man's plate."

Finn grinned, "Or maybe I'm saving him from type 2 diabetes. Now answer the question about the flowers woman!"

Rachel looked down at her feet.

"I told you that at our Junior winter formal, and you begged your mom to run out to quickly buy some gerber daisies before the limo left, but there wasn't enough time so we had to settle for the rose corsage," her voice quieted as she at her shiny black ballet flats, "I remember you were so mad that you had listened to Puck's stupid advice that roses were what girls expected for dances, and you told me you should have known that I wouldn't have liked roses, because I wasn't like other girls, I wasn't like the common, overused rose, but like the colorful and energetic gerber daisy."

She turned around to busy herself with the make-up remover, things had just gotten a little too sentimental for her tastes, and her eye make-up still looked like something that belonged in the red-light district.

...

Finn watched her attentively as she rigorously wiped black smudgy stuff off of her eyes.

So did this mean they could start talking about the past again? Because he had a long list of stuff he had to tell her. But then she started talking in her succinct, 'let's get back to business' tone, and he knew the minor past reference had just been an exception.

"I have a new favorite flower now," she said abruptly, "orchids. They're exotic and sophisticated and fashionable, not juvenile, like gerber daisies."

Ouch.

"Not that these aren't lovely Finn," she added graciously, sending him a small smile through her reflection in the mirror.

Why did she have to be like this? Why did she have to barricade herself behind this fake over-bubbly persona? It was so impenetrable... If only he could get her to open herself up again, then they could talk for real, and he could apologize to her like he so desperately needed to.

"So," he started, "what's Roger up to tonight?"

Rachel froze. Their respective partners had up until this point been in that off-limit territory. But Finn was trying to see how far he could push those boundaries tonight.

"He's in Paris," she told him curtly, "he just finished the compositions for this new avant-garde opera that's premiering at the Palais Garnier."

"Cool," he replied glumly, turning his attentions towards the opulent gold wallpaper.

Why was he such a moron? Why would he never be able to compare to the perfect, unrivaled in sheer awesomeness, Roger Breckelstein? He still couldn't believe he had let slip that he had seen her show seven times. God, she probably thought he was such a stalker. But he couldn't help it that watching her and hearing her perform was like some sort of miracle potion to his damaged soul. However transient it was.

He watched her silently as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, almost ready to go eat.

Finn knew he had to take advantage of her temporary willingness to talk about subjects she had previously deemed to be too unpleasant.

He just had to find out, once and for all.

"So.. you really think Roger's the one huh?"

Rachel looked at him sharply, before returning to her hair.

"I don't believe in romantic superstitions anymore. I'm much more pragmatic. And Roger.. he's everything I could have ever imagined in a potential husband. Smart, talented, kind, considerate, financially stable.. what more could I ask for?"

Finn fiddled with his thumbs, feeling uncharacteristically belligerent.

"I don't know, maybe someone your own age... I guess never thought you'd be the type to marry someone twice as old as you."

Rachel turned around, hands on her hips, ready for battle.

"I'm no longer the Rachel Berry you knew in high school Finn. Maybe she wouldn't have been that type, but she was immature and single-minded. I've developed into a much more well-rounded and culturally appreciative young woman. And I care for Roger deeply and will be marrying him."

Finn gave her a funny look, before he gave her an insincere attempt at a smile.

There was no point, she was never going to be his again.

"Well then.." he said, surrendering, "I'm happy for you."

...

A/N:

sorry i know this isn't a very satisfactory chapter ending, i originally intended for the chapter to be longer, but then the dressing room scene just took too many words, so i'll update with part II of this interaction really soon!

also; this fanfic is going to be pretty long, but don't worry the big/dramatic/angstful events are swiftly approaching!

and thank you again for the wonderful reviews :)