A/N: Kinda Fluffy for now. Will be probably a 2-3shot, maybe more, depending on inspiration. Will be posted as complete, since the chapters can be read individually.
Futureshot/Songfic
Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. Fox does. St. Berry for the win. Don't own The Wiz either.
I wish I was home . . . .
Home. When I think of home, I used to think of a stage. A spotlight. A standing ovation cheering my name. Broadway. My name on the marque. But now that I have it, it's not what I want.
My dream, my dream is to perform. To bring joy and happiness to others through my performance. To let people understand the nature of theatre, and the power that it has. But that dream has been fulfilled. All I want is home. But my home, well, I'm not sure where my home could be. Right now, home isn't one defined place of living; it's the place in my heart that keeps me going.
"Hmmmm. If only I still had that home." I sighed. Around me were bouquets of flowers of congratulations from tonight. But they don't hold any meaning. I look up into the mirror and see what I have become. I see a beautiful girl, with long mahogany hair, rich brown eyes, an athletically slender body. I may be a little on the short side, 5'2, but my voice makes up for it. A hotshot at 22. All natural without any surgery, makeup, or diets. But through those eyes, I see nothing. Dull, empty eyes with no motivation.
"Rachel?" A knock on my door broke me from my thoughts. Turning around, I see my cast mate Jonathan looking at me with a hurried expression.
"What are you doing? It's time to greet the fans at the stage door. We've been waiting for you! Come on!" Jonathan pulls me out of my chair and hurries me out of my dressing room. My gold star nameplate with diva under my name shines as the door closes.
"I wonder if my –not mine anymore. I still long to know how he's doing." I want to believe he is well, living out his dream, as I am. I know he would be successful by now. He always had more confidence in himself than I ever had in mine. I try not to look for him, because if he was mine, he'll come back. Maybe. One day.
Jonathan and I halt to a stop, with my other cast mates filled with excitement to see the fans. I want one fan in particular, but I shouldn't delude myself to believe it. He's off being busy and successful and amazing.
The doors open, and so it begins. Camera flashes are blinding, screams from every corner, and security, attempting to control the situation. I guess it should be expected by now. A famous Broadway actress is always bombarded by paparazzi. I should be used to it by now. I am anyway,
"OMG RACHEL BERRY!"
"I LOVE YOU!"
"YOU'RE SO AMAZING!"
"RACHEL! CAN I GET A PICTURE?!"
"MARRY ME!"
"YOU SANG BEAUTIFULLY!"
"BEAUTIFUL AND AMAZING!"
Typical. The same comments every night. Although that marriage one is new. It's not that I don't appreciate them, I do. It's just that it doesn't matter as much as it did. I got to where I am, but now, I have no drive. The fans are amazing, but the one sole opinion I need, won't bother.
Crowds of fans asking for my autograph? Amazing. Posing for pictures? My best showface to hide my sadness. No one can tell the difference. No one but him. He's the only one to see right through me, see me for me, not my talent. Within a couple hours, the crowd dies out leaving the cast and crew to finish some necessary clean up before *strike in a few days. The director tells us that it was a magnificent performance, an amazing way to end the tour, and hopes to work with any of us again.
I hang up my costume, remove my nameplate and get ready to head to my apartment.
It's not a bad apartment; actually it's pretty amazing. From my paycheck, I live comfortable in a penthouse suite, absolutely paid off, in the off chance anything were to happen. I walk out into my balcony as it looks over Central Park. It's beautiful this time of year. Christmas. I may not celebrate Christmas (Jewish all the way), but there's always something about this time of year that makes me remember. Maybe because it was him. The cold air fills me with pensive thoughts and emotions.
That time of year again; Christmas. But to us, the beginning of the end. I wish it didn't have to lead up to this, but there was no choice. We would be going in opposite directions, following our childhood dreams, leaving early and getting a head start.
"I love you" I say to him, locking eyes with his striking blue ones. The ones that pierce my very soul, giving me a childhood I never had. All my love and affections go into the one stare, hoping to convey my feelings to him.
"I love you too" he replies, but all I remember is his gentle kiss on my lips, trying to relish the moment. We know that we must leave each other to pursue our dreams, but for now, it's our moment. A moment where we don't have to grow up. Where responsibility doesn't matter, and it's just me a him. He dips me, tango style, to change the kiss to a more passionate one, conveying his feelings for me in a powerful and dramatic kiss. I run my hand through his curly brown hair, messing up his perfect hair he works so meticulously on. He didn't mind though. His lips licked my bottom lip, asking for entrance, in which I willingly allowed. Our tongues battle for dominance, where I would never accept defeat. His tongue concedes to mine, letting my win this time. As much as we would love to continue, out bodies seemed to remind us that we need air. At a reluctant pull away, we stare lovingly into each other's eyes; feeling so complete with his eyes looking straight into mine. He always made what we had an epic romance.
"Rachel, I promise to come back to you. You make me feel alive. You bring out my passion for music and acting, and I want to make you proud. I need to sharpen my skills and find a way to entertain people. You are already on your way. I will find my own, but most importantly, find my way back to you."
It's been 5 years. I try to avoid looking him up to see how he's doing in the last couple years. Last I heard, he was taking Hollywood by storm with the up and coming actress, Lea Michele by his side. Apparently she's some really good singer on a musical/comedy TV show, Glee or something. She's beautiful, and belongs on his arm. I doubt he even remembers me anymore.
The cold air is starting to become unbearable, so I head back inside and change into something more comfortable. I've lost my appetite thinking of him again, and drift off into sleep.
"I missed you so much"
"As did I my love" He looks at me with those eyes again, and I forget my doubts, hesitation, and sadness. He's back, he's here.
"But it doesn't matter now. We are together again; nothing can break up apart now. I promised I'd be back didn't I? And I always keep my promises." Our bodies are pressed so close, but still not close enough. He wraps his arms around my waist and we kiss passionately, until out of breath. But that doesn't stop him. He attaches his lips to my cheeks, corners of my mouth, anything place to stay connected. He places open mouth kisses on my neck, sucking sensitive spots he knows makes me breathless. My heart beats erratically through my chest, and I can feel his, beating in time with mine.
"Rachel, I love you. Let's stop wasting time and be together again. You are my one and only —"
"Of course, only a dream." I sigh, it was to good to be true. But one can only hope . . .
I think for today, I'll go to Central Park. I haven't had a lazy day in such a long time, and I'm currently in between shows. Auditions don't start until after New Year's, but by then, New York City is so crowded. It's the Christmas season, and for once, I'm going to try to enjoy it. Try to smile through the pain.
I guess the perks from my apartment is that Central Park is right there. A bit of walking and I'm in the serenity and simplistic beauty that is New York. The canopy of tree lights with the hint of snow on the branches, the frost covering the sidewalks and streetlamps. The sound of children laughing with their families as they play in the snow. Blades scraping ice as lovers ice skate in Central Park's rink. I love it. It's such a calm, romantic atmosphere, but I just want to share it with someone. I want to find my solace, my home in something.
Within an hour, I've walked into the center of the park. Lovers are snuggling in benches for warmth, and families are enjoying the snow. I want that. I want someone to look at me lovingly like that. I want a child's laughter filling the air. I know I'm still young, but that dream is alive.
I hear voices in the air, and there, a few people are singing under a gazebo. It seems like there is some open performance for anyone. I know it's my day off, but something compels me to get up there and sing. I don't need a reason to sing in public. I mean, I'm Rachel Berry; if anything, I thrive for it.
I look for the man in charge and ask if I can sing. First, he's starstruck, not that I'm surprised, comments my performance, claiming to have seen everything I've starred in. If anything, he begs me to perform, saying that this open performance is for donations for the orphanage for Christmas.
"You'd be really helping them out. You are an amazing singer, and to no offense," he whispers, "all the other people are amateur artists. Mostly butchering some holiday songs or classic, media-based commonly used songs from Broadway. With you as the amazing Broadway star you are, I know that we can help the orphanage for a while."
His words were so sweet, how could I refuse. It's for the less fortunate after all. Maybe this can fill this void I've been feeling for a while.
"Of Course. I would. I mean it's the Christmas season; everyone deserves to be happy." Even me.
"Thank you! Thank you so much! Umm, would you mind singing something from you're latest show?"
"Hm. Sure, I'll do the finale song." Due to my size, I was cast as Dorothy in the revival of The Wiz. I've done all the shows Oz related at this point: Dorothy in the revival of The Wizard of Oz, and Elphaba in Wicked. The Wizard of Oz and all adaptations will forever be in my repertoire. So singing the finale of "Home" wouldn't be such a problem.
After the last person finishes singing, Will, the man in charge, urges me to go on stage. I look towards the audience –well whatever's left of it–, most people have already left, or looking bored out of their mind. I mean, the person beforehand wasn't that bad; she was actually pretty good. Maybe a few more vocal lessons and she could sing professionally.
I walk up towards the makeshift stage, and take a deep breathe. I done this a hundred times already, but something about this performance seems . . . different. Like something's going to happen.
"Hello, my name is Rachel Berry, and I will be performing the song 'Home' from The Wiz. And to clear all speculation from your surprised faces, yes, I am the same Rachel Berry who currently plays Dorothy." A couple of cheers and hoots and hollers come my way. I wait for the cheers to die down, and lose myself in character.
When I think of home
I think of a place where there's love overflowing
I wish I was home
I wish I was back there with the things I been knowing
Sigh. When life was easier. All I needed was him, and I felt complete. With him, I knew how to live my life. He was part of my life forever, and I knew for a fact that I wanted him in my future. I wanted him to be with me at every stepping-stone. But most of all, I just wanted him. If anything, I desired him, craved his very being to feel whole.
Wind that makes the tall trees bend into leaning
Suddenly the snowflakes that fall have a meaning
Sprinklin' the scene, makes it all clean
Slowly and gradually, the crowd grew bigger and bigger when they heard my voice. The New York Times calls my voice, "A voice of an angel. Her talent may even live up the to big names likes Julie Andrews, Patti LuPone, even Barbra Streisand. With her, she will take Broadway by storm, bringing us all to our feet in awe." Phones are being taken out, no doubt recording this performance.
Maybe there's a chance for me to go back there
Now that I have some direction
It would sure be nice to be back home
Where there's love and affection
And just maybe I can convince time to slow up
Giving me enough time in my life to grow up
Time be my friend, let me start again
So many times I've sung this song. And in those times, I just keep remembering the days with him. The days when I felt happy. Sure, to society it may have looked like teenage infatuation. But we knew, that our love was real. We were soul mates, lovers, best friends, everything.
Suddenly my world has changed it's face
But I still know where I'm going
I have had my mind spun around in space
And yet I've watched it growing
If you're list'ning God
Please don't make it hard to know
If we should believe in the things that we see
Tell us, should we run away
Should we try and stay
Or would it be better just to let things be?
Out in the audience, hundreds of people have already gathered around the makeshift stage in this gazebo. Several bills are placed in the basket, with enough money for the orphanage to up and running smoothly for several years. Looking towards everyone watching, they are all in awe. Scanning all the people, their smiles remind me why I love my job, why I love to perform.
Then I see it. Hair. More specifically, his hair. I thought it was a trick of the light, but no. He may have cut his long, curly hair into something more tamable; curls at the top of his head, starting to look like Danny Zuko. It doesn't matter how long it's been since I've seen him I will know him anywhere. He looks more . . . mature, and if anything, sexier than the last time I saw him. His face is more structured, losing any trace of fat as a teen. He still has that adorable smirk on his face, critiquing my singing as usual. And his eyes; still the same piercing blue, staring into my very soul. The only question is, why is he here? I thought he was in California.
Living here, in this brand new world
Might be a fantasy
But it taught me to love
So it's real, real to me
And I've learned
That we must look inside our hearts
To find a world full of love
Like yours
Like me
Like home...
"WOOOO!" "AMAZING!" clapping, and a few whistles roar throughout the crowd as I finish my note and end. I took my bow and like the coward I am, I ran.
I couldn't face him. I just couldn't. The cool, confident actress is gone; all that's left is the shy, lovesick teenager with a shattered heart. I ran as far as I can from the gazebo, hoping he wouldn't find me. Living in New York City as long as I have, I know my way around Central Park. I ran deeper into the park until I found the bridge over the river. I lean over, looking at my reflection on the water, and the slow tears, falling from my face.
Taking deep breaths, I started to collect my thoughts. Did I still harbor feelings for him? That was a big fat yes. I wanted run into his arms, throw my hands around his neck and kiss him with so much passion that the man could literally die from it. I wanted his arms around my waist, pressing his body against mine, telling me that he was never going to let me go again, and that he loves me.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn't hear footsteps in the snow slowly coming towards me. I disregarded whoever was walking, thinking it was some tourist taking in the sights or a fan wanting a picture/autograph. I really didn't care at the moment. Until that person stood next to me.
He still smelt the same, that husky, honey smell, only enhanced by the frost of Central Park. The electricity is still there between us as we stand shoulder-to-shoulder, well to as far as I can. For me, more like shoulder to his mid arm. I'm so tempted just to lean into him and know that everything between us is going to be fine: romantic and sweet.
He places his hand over mine, interlacing our fingers together, as if nothing bad has happened. I turn towards him, and as I open my mouth to speak, he places a finger on my lips, and then gently places his lips over mine. After the initial shock is over, I respond eagerly into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to his body, effectively showing his want and need for me. His moans are like music to my ears, a beautiful song, composed of our love for each other. So enough, we unwillingly pulled apart, but his lips pepper kisses all over my face.
"Rachel, I love you. You've become the shining star I always knew you were going to be. Flawless and Perfect. You've always been the shining star in my life. Our stars have forever been together, but I wanted you to shine brighter than all before. I'm sorry I left. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. So much time has been wasted. But please, please take me back. We can be together again, forever and always." His eyes spoke with sincerity and love. I knew there was still going to be some drama before we can trust each other again, but for now, I'm going to live for right now because I've found my home.
"I never stopped loving you Jesse."