I heard her before I even opened the door to the auditorium. Rachel was up on stage in a cute red plaid skirt and a black shirt. I could see myself wearing the same outfit, only with fishnets instead of white tights, and black combat boots instead of black patent leather flats. She was singing a song I didn't recognize a capella, and even though she's even smaller than I am, she seemed to fill the stage. Wanting to learn to do that, I pulled out my cell phone and began recording her performance.

Rachel was singing about how she couldn't be happier, but I'd never heard her sound so sad. Then, a new verse started, with words that were closer to the look on her face:

"…getting your dreams—it's strange, but it seems a little, well, complicated. There's a kind of a sort of: cost. There's a couple of things get: lost. There are bridges you cross you didn't know you crossed until you've crossed."

By then, she was belting in a way that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Even Rachel Berry's heartbreak is better than mine—worthy of more attention. When Mr. Shue gave me the solo on "Tonight," I was happy, but guilty, too. I wanted the solo, but I knew she could sing it better. Rachel sang better, danced better, and three of the hottest boys in school had liked her at one point or another. On top of that, Rachel Berry always said whatever she wanted, no matter how much people teased her.

Part of me used to hate her for it, but one day in glee, Santana and Quinn made some mean comments, and when no one else was looking, Rachel's smile slipped for a second. Her chin trembled. Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and smiled even bigger and brighter. I realized that Rachel was the one person who hid as much as I did. Half of her smiles were as fake as my stutter.

"And if that joy, that thrill, doesn't thrill like you think it will…"

Rachel gazed out into the seats of the auditorium, not seeing me, and gathered herself, pasting on that brightest happy face— the one that she uses when she's saddest (like after getting slushied, or when she used to see Finn and Quinn kiss).

"Still, with this perfect finale, the cheers and ballyhoo, who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true. Well, isn't it? Happy is what happens when your dreams come true!"

I wondered what she saw when she looked out at the empty seats? The Broadway theaters she dreamed of singing in? Fans? The kids who tortured her? Maybe she just saw what was there—empty seats—but I doubted it.

Then her phone rang. She picked it up from where it sat on her rolly-bag, looked at it, and her whole body sagged. With that, she looked tiny again, swallowed up by the big stage. I stopped recording as she quickly packed up her things and turned to go. I wanted to call out to Rachel, to tell her what I'd seen and ask her what was wrong. Was it Finn trying to get her back? Had something gone wrong with Quinn as a room mate or Jesse as a boyfriend? But my words got lost.

After she was long gone, I slowly climbed the stairs to the stage. I set up my laptop to play the backing track and stepped center stage. I watched the video I'd just taken of Rachel. Then, I tried to do what she did: make myself big enough to fill the stage. I wanted to show as much emotion as she did, so I concentrated on the day when I sat on the piano bench while Artie apologized for trying to get me to change—that moment when I knew that he'd forgiven me for faking my stutter, and he wasn't going to punish me anymore. I was tired of pretending not to love him, and I could tell he felt the same way about me. I could feel myself expand as I sang. With every word, I felt bigger and bigger, like I was my voice, filling the whole room.

"Today, all day I had the feeling a miracle would happen. I know now I was right… For here you are, and what was just a world is a star… Tonight!"

This time, I hit the note perfectly. I finally deserved the solo, and I couldn't wait to show Mr. Shue and the rest of the glee club. The weird part was, though, that Rachel might be jealous, but she'd also be happy for me. She'd be happy about what it meant for the club. I couldn't get the words she'd sung out of my head: "There's a kind of a sort of: cost. There's a couple of things get: lost. There are bridges you cross you didn't know you crossed until you've crossed." Before today, I'd always worried about the bridges I couldn't force myself to walk over. Now I wondered how many bridges I'd crossed just by standing still. I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed.

"Hey, it's Tina. Listen, I'm worried about Rachel."

AN- Rachel's singing excerpts from "Thank Goodness" from Wicked. Who should Tina call to help her find out what's wrong with Rachel, and perhaps embark on some matchmaking?