See Lights, See Stars, See Clear

by backinthebox

Her professor had advised her to seek out a performer she could look up to, someone who would force her out of her safe zone, someone who could challenge her. Think of people she had worked with before, he suggested, someone she could go toe-to-toe with.

3. Chapter 3

See Lights, See Stars, See Clear - 3

Disclaimer: Same disclaimers as Chapter 1. Songs and lyrics are borrowed from their respective owners.

A/N: Oh. While this vaguely follows some of season 4, I won't follow it too much (because I haven't really been watching it). So if there are small inconsistencies, just think that those aren't the droids you're looking for.

Yes, I know Rachel drops her jaw a lot. She does so some more here.

Plus: As I go through my drafts and outline, I've come to realize that this is both going to be a wishful thinking fic of how St. Berry can make anything (even Glee S4) better, as well as character rehab for Rachel Berry, because I honestly don't know who I'm (Tumblr-)watching anymore.

Read. Enjoy. Review.

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She was parched. She was finished with her bottle of water and was now on her second, courtesy of Jesse.

She had never been this thirsty in recent memory.

She gazed up at Jesse, who was watching her in concern. "You're evil."

"You're out of practice." Jesse said flatly. Okay, maybe two and a half hours of voice lessons would cause anyone's vocal cords to dry up, but Rachel's been in lessons practically since she could talk, and he knew she knew the tricks to stay hydrated - she just hadn't employed them.

"And you're such a good judge of that." Rachel took another long drink of water.

Jesse shrugged. "I'm not the one who's struggling with hydration."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

Jesse checked the clock on top of the piano. "It's dark soon. We should go."

Rachel nodded as Jesse went about keeping his things, that stupid clock included. "I think it was a good first session, don't you?"

Jesse shrugged. "It's a start."

"You were patient." Rachel touched his arm, and when he turned to look at her questioningly, she softly continued. "I haven't had a lot of that in NYADA. Or even with Mr. Schue, to be honest. I appreciate that."

"We'll get there, Rachel. I know I won't need to browbeat it out of you." Jesse assured her. He reached for her bag from where she had dropped it earlier, and slung it over his shoulder. He groaned at the weight. "What do you have in here?"

"My books. And clothes." Rachel sighed as they left the rehearsal space. "My apartment is practically an entire hour away, so I have to bring everything with me to school."

"Don't you have friends who live closer to your school? Like your friend Benny. Where does he live?"

"Brody. And he lives in the dorms. But I don't like..." Rachel frowned. "I can't leave my things in his room. He could go through it."

"Then don't leave anything incriminating in your bag." Jesse pointed out, opening the door for her to the street.

"There's nothing incriminating..." Rachel shot him a glare. "There's nothing to incriminate!"

Jesse laughed. "Then what's the problem?"

Rachel shook her head, and turned away from him.

He chuckled under his breath, because he knew she couldn't stomp away from him: he had her bag. "What about your other friends?"

She fell silent.

"Rachel."

Rachel turned to him.

"You do have other friends in NYADA, right?"

She hesitated. "Not so much friends..."

"Friendly acquaintances? Casual study partners?" Jesse pressed. He grew concerned as she shook her head and bit her lower lip. "Rachel, other than Kurt and Santana and your friend Benny, you do talk to other people in your school, right?"

"Well..." Rachel drew out. "After I won the Winter Showcase I kind of had a following? They fawned over me and gave me flattering remarks."

"Those are hangers-on."

"You don't know-"

"Rachel. I was male lead of Vocal Adrenaline for four years. I know what hangers-on are. Those kind of people turn on you and replace you quicker than Barbra can fill a fundraiser." Jesse reminded. "What about friends?"

Rachel sighed. "Well, like I told you: I didn't get along with my roommate in the freshman dorm, and a lot of my classmates are my competition so I can't really count on them for friendship."

Jesse sighed. "So befriend an upperclassman."

"Brody's a junior."

At this, and despite himself, he remembered an older voice telling him, 'Befriend' was the word I used, actually. "Someone you're dating doesn't count. And his friends you've met don't count because those are his friends, unless you've hung out with them without him."

Silence.

Jesse shook his head. "You can't count on Kurt and Santana for your entire set of friends in New York, Rachel. You should meet more people."

"But I'm fine with Kurt, Brody and Santana." Rachel protested.

"Rachel. There are something like a million people in New York-"

"Eight, actually."

Jesse looked at her. "I'm only talking about Manhattan, because that's the only population that matters."

"I live in Bushwick."

"And that's a shame." Jesse replied.

Rachel gave him a confused look.

"The point is, there are a lot of people in New York City. There's got to be at least one person here that you can count on that didn't go to McKinley with you."

Rachel smiled. "I have you."

Jesse sighed, because when she said things like that, he could forget that theirs was not a romantic relationship. He adjusted the strap of her bag on his shoulder, and motioned to a nearby food truck. "Taco salad?"

Rachel grinned. "The pampered Jesse St. James eats from a food truck?"

Jesse shrugged. "A guy has to learn to eat on a budget, right?"

"You mean your parents aren't bankrolling your stay in New York?"

He had to laugh. Really. She had no idea. "If only. I think their accountant told them to make sure I curb my expenses to prove I really want to stay in New York."

She could detect a clue when it was right in front of her. "And... what, exactly are you doing in New York?"

"Nice try."

Damn it.

"So. Taco salad?"

Rachel shook her head. "Santana's cooking us dinner and she tends to get violent when Kurt and I don't eat it. She says we're offending her grandmother's recipe."

"Santana's willing to cook vegan just to cater to you?"

"I'm not vegan anymore."

Jesse stared at her. The same girl who almost slapped him for offering her buttered popcorn was now telling him that she wasn't vegan anymore?

"It's impolite to stare."

"Since when?" He managed to ask.

"For a while now, OK?" Rachel asked wearily. "It's not a big deal."

Except it was. And he said as much.

"I... It was hard to stay vegan in Lima, you know? I couldn't keep up the strict vegan lifestyle. And then I got here, and there's so much new food to try..."

Jesse shook his head and stepped away from the food truck, continuing on his way to the nearest subway station.

"Jesse..."

"How safe is your neighborhood at night?"

"Don't you want to talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about." He said flatly. "Your dietary regimen is your business."

"Then why are you so upset about the fact that I'm not vegan anymore?" Rachel demanded. She grabbed his arm and caused him to still his forward motion. "Hey! Stop."

"Of course I'm upset." Jesse hissed. "I admired you because you were so illogically vegan in a meat-eating state. Your dads had to convince you to relax a bit and settle for being a vegetarian."

"It's not a big deal."

"Right. I just can't help thinking there were maybe five or six vegan restaurants in and around Lima, two of those we only went to once, and you loved what you ate both times. So I'm thinking either you're not the girl I thought you were, or you're more easily swayed than I hoped you were."

Rachel stared at him, jaw dropped. She slowly closed her mouth, and hesitated before she spoke. "You gave it that much thought?"

He threw up his hands. "I know you think a lot of our relationship then was a lie, but I actually really did care about you, Rachel. That included caring about your eating habits. Maybe I grumbled more than I should have that I had to eat meatless pasta or that pizza is pointless without pepperoni, but I did it. And I did it for you. But if you decided that your 21-slide PowerPoint presentation on why meat is murder was worthless - to quote, 'not a big deal' - that's your decision."

Rachel faltered.

"Is your neighborhood safe at night?" Jesse asked again, because he really didn't feel like continuing the discussion on her veganism when he had inadvertently revealed more than he wanted.

Rachel glanced at him, at the show face blank expression he wore, and sighed, following his lead. "It's OK, I guess. But I'm actually meeting Kurt for drinks at Callbacks before we head home for dinner and deal with Santana."

Jesse nodded, and altered his route to head to the collegiate bar instead of the nearby subway station.

Rachel glanced at him, watched him apparently trying to calm himself down, if the way he was working his jaw was any indication. She also took a moment, appreciating that he was moderating his pace so that she could match his stride comfortably, unlike a certain six-foot-four boy that used to stumble when he tried to match her stride, or pulled her hand along when they walked according to his. And Jesse made sure she was always just within arm's reach from him, indicating they were together even though there was zero contact between them. They walked in silence for a few blocks, before he spoke again.

"About our arrangement."

Rachel nodded, and waited expectantly for him to continue.

"In the contract you're very... specific on what you would and would not like to happen during our sessions," Jesse began. "I'm a little concerned about the fact that you don't state, at any point, what your expectations are regarding the end result."

Rachel's brow furrowed as she glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"Your professor told you to get help, right? Challenge yourself, improve some facets of your performance?" Jesse paused as Rachel nodded. "But, how do we measure that? What do you want to get out of these sessions?"

"I... I don't know."

Jesse gave her that same indiscernible look. "I forgot to ask before, but if you have a copy of your professors' feedback from last semester, I'd like to see them. I'd like to see what Carmen Tibideaux writes in her end-of-term assessments."

Rachel turned to regard him. "You seem to respect her a lot."

"She's reminded me more than once that just because I'm the greatest thing in high school show choir doesn't mean I deserved a spot in her class." Jesse answered honestly. "I don't need to be her student to learn from her."

"Your NYADA audition was with her?" Rachel asked interestedly.

Jesse nodded. "Into the Woods."

Rachel giggled. "You and Sondheim, honestly."

Jesse smiled back. "What? We all need a go-to score. You have Funny Girl, I have the wider library of Stephen Sondheim."

Rachel grinned. "I suddenly have this dream of seeing you sing Broadway Baby."

"Don't tempt me."

Rachel hooked her hand to his elbow. "Why don't I hear you sing anymore?"

"Because we haven't seen each other in ages?" Jesse guessed. "If you'd kept up your volunteering at the homeless shelter, I still held concerts every weekend, when I wasn't holding Vocal Adrenaline weekend rehearsals."

Rachel made a face. "You practiced on weekends?"

"Those lifts don't get themselves done, Rachel."

"New Directions don't have lifts." Rachel noted.

"You need solid background in dance to perform lifts properly," Jesse reminded. "Booty Camp doesn't count."

Rachel grinned up at him. "Did you have Booty Camp in Vocal Adrenaline?"

Jesse chuckled. "First, we would never call it something so ridiculous, but I guess you can expect as much from the same man who called his high school show choir the Nude Erections."

"Why do you think I suddenly change diction and call it di-rections?" Rachel retorted.

"And we call it dance rehearsals, because you don't get into Vocal Adrenaline dancing like a half-assed zombie." Jesse suddenly jerked Rachel closer, just as a guy on a bicycle passed them. "Anyway, I'll tell you what."

Rachel looked at him eagerly.

"If you play your cards right, I'll sing for you." Jesse said.

"My song of choice?"

Jesse scoffed. "I'm not singing Top 40, that's insulting."

Rachel gasped in feigned indignation. "I beg your pardon, I'd like to think I'm primarily adult contemporary and musical theater."

"Maybe." Jesse acquiesced. "But I get veto power."

"Of course."

They kept walking until they got to the front door of Callbacks, the bar that NYADA students frequented. Jesse motioned to it with a flourish. "Your destination."

Rachel glanced inside, and turned to him. "You want to come inside?"

"You want your buddy Kurt to see me?" Jesse questioned warily. "All those questions? Are you really looking forward to the barrage of phone calls from your bestest friends about us hanging out? Don't you have enough drama in your life?"

Rachel pouted. "No. I mean, to the questions and phone calls. But..."

"We're working on you, Rachel, and from what I can tell it's better if we keep this between us for now. Let's not complicate it by having everyone think this is about us."

"But-"

"We'll get there." Jesse promised. "Eventually it won't matter, and we can hang out with Kurt knowing - maybe even with Kurt - and it won't be a problem. Now isn't that time."

Rachel frowned, and conceded to his logic. "But I want to hear you sing."

"As I said..."

"Play my cards right." Rachel finished his thought. "I know."

Jesse gently extracted himself from her hold, and handed Rachel her bag, stepping back. "To start? Think about what you want out of this: Be it a successful audition, or just a song you want to perform. Set a goal for us. And we'll go about achieving it."

Rachel hefted her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Jesse shook his head. "Prepare for your audition."

"We haven't agreed on what I'll perform."

"Surprise me."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You're enjoying this too much."

"Guy on a budget's got to have his cheap thrills, right?" Jesse grinned. "See you Saturday."

Rachel bit her lip to keep from grinning back, before turning to the door.

"Hey, Rachel."

Rachel turned back.

"For motivation," Jesse offered, before singing a teaser of a song. "I'm a Broadway Baby, slaving at the five and ten, dreaming of the great day when I'll be in a show!"

There was no force on Earth that could have made Rachel's beaming smile fade. Jesse St. James singing Broadway Baby was too good.

He winked at her. "See you Saturday."

"Saturday." Rachel promised. She watched him walk away before she schooled her features to at least dim a little before she walked into the bar.

Jesse was right: she didn't want Kurt to start asking questions.