Prompt: We would receive someone's least favourite ship. We had to write to make that person love it.

Characters: I received Finchel. It's a very Rachel-centric one… and I'm not overly satisfied with her characterisation, but I figure she's the type of person that takes a role so seriously she ends up becoming it.

Words: 780, but this is already ccut down, and it's late, and here. Have a 780 word drabble :p

"That's the best thing a girl can be in this world…"

Her white dress flapped and fluttered in the wind, the lilts of her voice trilling as if carried on the same breeze, a voice that spoke of insubstantial dreams and broken promises of a future, one where she could know who she was, rather than who she'd have to fuck to get the next role.

How New York had changed her. Where once she had been proud of herself, sure in her talent, strong in her virtues… Now she had become

"… a beautiful little fool…"

her worst nightmare. Just one reading to get the role. One tiny reading to see the chemistry between cast and crew. But how quickly one reading had turned into two, and two readings turned into work over dinner, and then, before she knew it, dinner had long been forgotten and the readings were now taking place in the director's bedroom. Because, it was New York. And the best thing to do in New York was

"…beautiful…"

to be prepared to do whatever it takes. When you're staring down into the universe, of course you're going to touch it… The trouble was, you can't reach into Krishna's mouth and emerge without broken fingers. Where once she condemned those women, now she had bills to pay and the promise of talent was the promise of finding a needle in the Empire State. Once she'd had standards. But after she'd been swept into the cut-throat world of open relationships, catching the next wave into "whatever it takes" seemed the only way to shore… and then the current took her, throttled her. And now, she did whatever it took to keep her head above water.

"The best thing…"

Her voice no longer spoke of money – it spoke of the slums of Lima Heights, the distant memory of hard ground. She was scared – for so long she'd been drifting, always drifting, always floating, always dreaming of steady ground beneath her feet. But she knew the instant she'd hit it, she'd take off running and never look back. Because it was either that or crumble like

"a beautiful little fool…"

puff pastry.

Reality finally hit her at The West Egg that night. For so long her past had remained a red string tied to her belt loop. Unlike so many of the dreamers that arose from New Directions, there was no doubt that Rachel Berry had certainly made a name for herself, and she was proud of it, too. All she wanted was to show others how her dreams were spun of gold, how theirs could be too, if only they believed. And so, when Wesley Montgomery's name popped up in the neon lights of the billboard outside, she tugged on the string.

"… stuck in her daydream…"

But, almost as if to piss off Newton, the string turned into a tether, and the hot air balloon of her life came crashing in one foul line.

"Do you ever feel, feel so paper-thin like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?"

A nose dive into the concrete. Her wings were broken.

"Even brighter than the moon…"

No longer was she the firework from Lima, ready to explode at any minute. Now she was

"… beautiful…"

nothing but a damn good night and

"… little…"

a damn hard worker and a

"… fool…"

box of faded photographs.

"It's always been inside of you…"

But she didn't have to be. Not anymore. So she took out her phone and hit speed dial. "Finn? I don't want to be a plastic bag."

"Rachel?" There was a heavy sigh. "Why are you calling me? What do you want?"

"All I've ever wanted. To feel like I matter."

"You're famous, Rachel. People sing your name in lights. I bet you barely get time to answer your fan mail… What can I offer?"

His words stung and she slid to the ground amidst pools of cheap beer and tears. "A fool – that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool." Her line played over and over in her head… All the wrong choices for all the wrong reasons. She was no longer simply playing a role – Daisy Buchanan had become her. "I don't want to be a fool any more, Finn."

"And how exactly can I help with that? We haven't spoken in years."

She watched her dirty reflection crying back at her, biting her lip, running a hand through her hair. "With you, I was solid. With you, I was more than just a pretty face. With you, I knew who I was… I was human."

Sorry that I'm late again! It's still not quite midnight here though... Plus, I've been at work and at Sydney and sick on top of all that, so it's been a struggle!

... So there's a little bit of Spot-the-Reference here. I wish you luck! Also, I LOVE how I finally don't have any reason to write for the Warblers... and still they sneak in. Though mainly because I wanted Firework, and Telly Leung's version is absolutely perfect for this...

But dinner is now calling me. And I wrote it... even if it's not perfect. Though, I think Rachel's always been a little towards the sacrifice-everything-for-her-dreams type, and she changed a LOT in New York... I think Brody broke her a little. Or, well, is starting to. But... I tried? And therefore no one should judge me! Or, well, go for your life on the judging front. It's fanfic :p

Ficdirectory, this is for you! And thanks to Different Child for talking this with me and somehow getting me to work out how I was going to make it work...

Shout outs to Carbon65, ficdirectory, PenMagic, zimbardooo, Eraman, Melissa Motown, GleekMom, Tara621 and Different Child!

Like it? Hate it? Want my laptop to explode and give my legs second degree burns? Please let me know!

Keep smiling! :D