NYADA had its celebrities, of course, like any other campus: while other schools had their jocks, their legacies, their BMOCs and HBICs, NYADA had students who have proven their talent, have shown their mettle, have exceeded expectations. They weren't necessarily popular, but it was imperative for their fellow students to know who they are, knowing these were the names that would soon be famous.

Rachel knew she was one of NYADA's so-called celebrities, thanks to the Winter Showcase. It put her on some kind of pedestal while also encouraging her classmates to thrive to usurp, if not upstage, her. She knew that if she admitted to anyone in her program that one of their professors told her she had room for improvement on her fundamentals, the sharks would come circling.

She was NYADA-popular, but she hadn't been lying, when she'd told Jesse that she didn't really have friends in NYADA. She had friendly acquaintances, some of whom she readily admitted gravitated towards her only after she'd won the Winter Showcase. But there were some people who she was truly friendly with, people she could sit with if she needed to in the library or cafeteria, but nobody she really got to hang out with.

It wasn't their fault, really. She was just used to doing things on her own, and having Kurt around was enough companionship for her. And she was dating Brody, and he certainly didn't have any kind of lack for friends. If things were truly dire, she could always force Santana to hang out with her.

But while Rachel was now known for having won the Winter Showcase, there were others who were known primarily for being on the standard upon which others were compared. NYADA, after all, had a smaller student population than Juilliard or Tisch or any other performing arts conservatories, so it was easy to pinpoint who were their future stars.

Claire Beaumont was one of the school's standard bearers. Claire was a sophomore, and one of NYADA's celebrities because everyone knew she had been wooed by every school from Joffrey to the American School of Ballet but had chosen the dance program of NYADA. She was only a sophomore, but ever since Cassandra July set eyes on her, had used her as the model and standard for all her students.

But that was all people knew about the dark-haired sophomore. She was friendly enough, but apparently nobody really socialized with her, all her free time dedicated to dance training.

It was... disconcerting. After all, the girl had chosen the less-intensive dance program of NYADA over Joffrey and even Juilliard, so why put all that effort into additional training?

But, no matter. Rachel knew Claire had an extensive background in dance and was widely touted to be one of the best in their school, and Rachel was determined to get the girl to agree to teaching her. And since Jesse had been enthused by her choice to start additional dance lessons, she had decided to approach the sophomore and broach the topic of lessons before she had to meet Jesse again.

Luckily, Jesse was busy with his unnamed task in New York until Wednesday, which meant she had some time. It also meant she had to record three videos, and she still grinned to herself when she thought of Jesse's wary sigh when she'd told him she would be posting the videos on her MySpace site. He can grumble all he wanted, but he was the one who said to surprise him.

In any case, Rachel had decided to approach Claire today, and after some queries, got a response on exactly where the girl could be found.

Proving everyone right, Rachel found the dancer in one of the school's smaller dance studios. The tall dancer was dressed in form-fitting jeans and a shirt, her casual outfit contradicting the formality of her dance form. Instead of announcing her presence right away, Rachel watched from the doorway.

She had been in dance lessons from the age of three, ballet since she was five. She had watched Mike Chang and Brittany Pierce dance in glee and onstage; Yet she has never seen anyone dance with as much grace as Claire Beaumont. It was fluid, flawless. Her training was obvious, her posture and form could only have come from years of formal ballet lessons.

Mike and Brittany had been riveting to watch, too, but Claire moved in a way that Rachel could only envy.

The older girl abruptly stopped, and spoke over her shoulder. "It's impolite to stare."

"Sorry." Rachel said sheepishly, stepping into the room. "I couldn't help but admire your form. You're very graceful. But you probably knew that, and hear it all the time..."

Claire glanced at her. "Are you here for a reason or just to heap praise, because honestly I can pick anyone in the hallway to tell me how good I am."

Rachel clacked her mouth shut, aware of the truth behind the tall girl's statement.

"Reason for being here." Claire reminded. She paused, taking notice of Rachel, and subsequently queried, "who are you?"

"Oh!" Rachel startled, and stepped forward, hand outstretched. "My name is Rachel Berry. I'm a freshman."

"The freshman who won the Winter Showcase?" Claire asked, shaking the offered hand.

Rachel nodded, and smiled tremulously at the taller girl. "You know who I am?"

"All NYADA students are kind of forced to attend the Showcase." Claire reminded. She leaned her long body against the ballet bars. "It's not often a freshman wins first prize."

"It's to my understanding that freshmen aren't regularly invited to take part in the Winter Showcase," Rachel defended hotly. She paused, then deflated as she rolled her eyes in self-deprecation upon realizing who she was talking to. "And, of course, I bet you were invited during your freshman year..."

Claire had to smile in amusement, but concurred. "I was stupid, I danced ballet to electronic pop instead of classical music. The judges were not impressed."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I figured, what's the point of being touted as being one of the best if you're not going to do your own thing anyway?" Claire shrugged. "I'm Claire Beaumont."

"I know." Rachel replied, before realizing her social faux pas and added, "You have a lovely name."

"Thanks." Claire replied. "What can I do for you, Rachel Berry?"

Rachel gave her a broad smile. "I have a proposition for you."

Claire glanced at her, and gave her a once-over. A small smile played on her lips. "Maybe. But you'll have to buy me dinner first."

Rachel faltered, her smile fading. "I'm sorry?"

Claire gave her a casual shrug. "My boyfriend would probably have an opinion, but he really doesn't get to have a say in what I do. Saturday?"

"What?" Rachel stammered out, unsure of when exactly the conversation made an abrupt turn. "No! I mean, you're pretty and I'm sure your dancing abilities have made you remarkable in - No!"

The taller girl watched her with interest and amusement. "You're blushing."

"It's not that kind of proposition!"

"Doesn't mean it can't be."

"Are you seriously coming on to me?" Rachel demanded.

Claire laughed, and shook her head. "That's too easy. You were saying?"

The audacity. Sure, the girl was incredibly tall and lithe and possessed the grace and poise of a trained ballerina. And, yes, her long dark hair was unreasonably soft-looking and shiny, even when it was placed in a tight bun. Not to mention Claire Beaumont, up close, was even prettier than Rachel had anticipated: she had blue-grey eyes and facial features to rival any Old Hollywood screen actress. Claire was the kind of beautiful that was usually reserved for the snobby elite, but she was able to control how she was perceived mainly through her body language.

Rachel had encountered far scarier and intimidating beautiful people (i.e., Quinn Fabray), and she was not about to back down from this... dancer, no matter how undeniably talented Claire was.

"I will have you know I'm dating Brody Weston." Rachel informed the taller girl.

Claire made a face to physically express her disdain for the aforementioned individual. "That vapid tool?"

"He's not a tool!" Rachel cried defensively.

"But you agree he's vapid."

Rachel stared at her for a beat, before straightening up and gathering her composure. "I don't have to put up with this."

"Hey, you crashed my rehearsal." Claire reminded, sauntering up to her bag and retrieving a bottle of water from within. "But, fine. Truce. What did you want?"

Rachel was reluctant, since apparently there was a reason nobody socialized with this girl: Her humor was cruel. "I was wondering if I could ask you for dance lessons."

Claire smiled with amusement. "Not a fan of Ms. July?"

"Not so much."

"That's honest." Claire estimated, her amusement evident in the smile that played on her lips. "Explain."

"I believe that I could improve my dance abilities with additional training." Rachel explained.

"There's no shortage of teachers in this school." Claire reminded. "Not to mention the number of dance studios in the City."

"Yes," Rachel concurred. "But I need to learn at performance level, and most studios don't offer a variety of styles. They'll touch ballroom, but just ballroom. Or they'll have a variety, but only go from basic to intermediate."

"True," Claire allowed, "but you realize that I'm a student."

"I realize that," Rachel agreed. "But I need to be able to compare myself to a peer - not that we're peers in any way related to skill level, but more in terms of age group and as a fellow student - before I sign up for more professional lessons."

"Fair enough," Claire conceded that point.

"I mean," Rachel continued, "I know I could go to a professional studio, but I can't afford it and pay rent."

At that last statement, Claire narrowed her eyes at her, analytical. "You know freshmen are encouraged to stay in the dorms, right?"

Rachel could only shake her head, unable to put to words how awful her dorm experience had been.

"The coed baths, or bad roommate?" Claire guessed.

"Everything." Rachel grumbled.

Claire smiled. "Well, my freshman roommate dropped out two weeks into the program. Good times."

Rachel frowned at her, because the girl was actually talking about someone giving up on their dreams.

Claire noticed the silence and the frown on Rachel's face. "Oh, don't worry: she transferred to some dance institute, or something."

Even as Rachel exhaled at the reassurance, Claire continued. "I had to check it out, I mean, I was her roommate, and I've seen enough Law & Order to know I should have answers on her whereabouts."

Rachel was beginning to wonder if improving her dance abilities was worth the trouble of continued exposure to Claire Beaumont.

Although... now that Rachel thought about it, she hasn't seen or heard from Audrey since the new semester started.

Rachel's reverie was interrupted when Claire suddenly clapped her hands together and mused aloud, "Well, hypothetically, since sex is off the table, if I agree to teach you, what's in it for me?"

Oh. Well... Rachel stalled. Jesse had taken her up on her request for free, so she hadn't considered any kind of remuneration for the sophomore.

Claire arched an eyebrow at the silence, before rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Favor bank of a select number of favors to be cashed in at a later date." She offered.

"Five."

Claire shot her a disparaging look. "Ten."

Rachel grumbled. "In observance of all standing legal responsibilities?"

"State and federal." Claire nodded. "Done."

Rachel beamed. "Great!"

Claire scoffed. "Your enthusiasm is remarkable. Misguided, but remarkable."

Rachel ignored the jibe, more than used to it after her entire high school experience. "When can we start?"

Claire shook her head, to which Rachel frowned.

"What?" Rachel asked.

Claire studied her. "I want you to write up your entire dance background, including your instructors. And... you're not in any of Ms. July's classes this semester, are you?"

"No."

Claire smirked. "You realize you probably proved her right."

"She made Dance 101 miserable!" Rachel argued.

Claire shrugged, but didn't expound on her assertion. "Give me your schedule for 102. I need to see your skill level to see what we have to work with."

Rachel nodded eagerly.

"I should warn you now, Rachel Berry, but I've never taught anyone before. The closest I got was my understudy, but that doesn't really count since I don't skip a performance - and didn't - and we both knew it." Claire warned. "I'm going to expect a certain level of dedication from you, and I'd hate it if I start getting Bambi eyes from you for something I can't control."

"I'm in this," Rachel promised. "But we'll have to work out a schedule, since I also already have singing lessons."

Claire nodded. "I'm taking extra lessons myself, so that works for me."

"Oh?" Rachel asked curiously. "What lessons?"

Claire laughed. "Tap, if you can imagine."

Rachel gaped, because she had not seen that coming. "You're taking tap dancing classes?"

Claire nodded. "I had to give it up before. I thought now would be a good time to start catching up on other styles I had to give up."

"Is that why you chose NYADA?" Rachel asked.

Claire laughed. "Partly."

"What are the other parts?" Rachel pressed, because nobody who knew her would ever accuse her of not being a curious person.

Claire glanced at her, and smiled wryly. "I don't think I know you well enough to tell you something that important, Rachel Berry."

Rachel conceded that point.

Claire turned back to her bag and pulled out a notebook. She ripped out a page and wrote down something. She handed it to Rachel. "This is my number. Send me your next 102 class, we'll talk then."

Rachel took the piece of paper. "Thank you."

Claire nodded, and picked up her bag. "I have a class in ten. I'll see you around, Rachel Berry."

"You can just call me Rachel." Rachel told her.

Claire paused on her way to the door, and turned to smile knowingly at Rachel. "Calling you by your first name implies we're friends, Rachel Berry. And familiarity breeds contempt. We can save that for when we actually start lessons."

Rachel watched her leave the room, pensive. Despite her first (and second) impression of the girl, she could admit that Claire Beaumont intrigued her. She knew that Claire had to be from a non-big city hometown, otherwise she would already be a professional performer, and not studying at a performing arts college. But she approached everything as a professional, her parting shot was a clear indicator of that.

Well, Claire was going to help her with her dancing, that's all. It's not like they had to be friends for that to happen.

Even though the part of Rachel that had desperately wanted the friendship of the head cheerleader in high school was the same part that made Rachel determined that she would befriend Claire Beaumont, even if it seemed like an impossible wall to scale.

Rachel pulled out her cellphone to type in Claire's number, and saw she had unread messages and missed calls. She checked it.

Brody. Two missed calls, two texts.

And Finn. Five texts.

She opened the first of Finn's texts, and saw it was asking if she was coming to Ohio ("wt shud i tl ND?"). She deleted the rest, not bothering to read them. She already knew what the rest of them would probably say, and she didn't want her good mood spoiled by Finn asking her about New Directions, which she couldn't begin to know how to approach (although she made a mental note to talk to Tina later about her options), or worse, if Finn would start accusing her of being selfish by staying in New York.

Brody's message...

We stl mtg for lunch?

Rachel froze. Shit. Shit shit. She was supposed to have met Brody for a late lunch date.

Rachel glanced at the time and winced when she saw it was past Brody's lunch break and just a few more minutes before she had to go to her own class.

Rain check it was.

After typing her response to Brody, Rachel glanced around the empty dance studio.

Now, the important issue: What song to record for tonight's MySpace video.