A/N: So here it is; the long awaited chapter. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read (and especially to review) the first. I love to hear each and every one of your thoughts, and I hope you enjoy this next (slightly longer) chapter. They won't always be this long, but it appears that the story took on a life of its own. ;-)

Disclaimer: I don't own "Glee"; rather, "Glee" seems to own me. ;-) Also, the song contained herein belongs to "When in Rome".

~*~

Nine Years Ago (Give or Take a Few Months) . . .

"Come on, Rachel," Finn wheedled, the corners of his eyes creased in agitated appeal as he leaned against the heavy red velvet of the theatre curtain. All around them, members of their glee club were warming up for the Spring assembly. All around them, people were chatting and laughing and getting ready to perform for their fellow students. For once, it appeared that no one was looking in their direction. It was the perfect opportunity to get Rachel to open up. "I just want to talk," he tried, giving her his famous puppy dog eyes. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to do the trick.

"We're beyond talking, Finn Hudson," Rachel replied, with a defiant flash of her eyes and a slight jut of her chin. "In fact, I don't think we have anything left to say to each other."

"But that's not true," Finn cried, wringing his hands in frustration. "Look, I know that I made a mistake, but –"

"Call it whatever you will," Rachel interrupted, glaring determinedly at the curtain, "It doesn't change the way that I feel." She had put herself on the line for the boy standing imploringly by her side, and she wasn't going to let herself be humiliated again. Because every time she let him in, every time she mistakenly opened her heart for the handsome male lead, he squashed it into a million little pieces. And Rachel Berry's feelings were more important than that. They were more important than any boy, no matter how much she cared about him.

"Rachel, please," Finn plead, taking a step toward her. And when she still refused to look at him, and the tilt of her chin became just a little more defiant, he reached out and gently grabbed her arm.

Her eyes widened at his touch, and she whirled to face him. "Let go of me, Finn," she demanded, even while a hint of vulnerability flickered through her chocolate brown gaze. "I told you, I don't want to talk and –"

"Rachel, I know I made a mistake," he implored, his fingers loosening slightly around her slender arm. She gritted her teeth in determination as the sensation caused goose bumps to break out onto her sensitive skin. "Believe me, I've been kicking myself in the as – um, in the butt ever since." At his choice in language, Rachel's mouth quirked slightly, but she quickly bit back the grin and continued to glare. "I know what I did was wrong, and I'm just asking you to forgive me. Please?" he added a moment later, when she still refused to speak.

Sighing heavily, the young woman studied her long-time crush, a plethora of emotions fluttering across her face. Anger. Hurt. Regret. Longing. But every time she tried to let go, every time she even considered forgiving him, she remembered the incident from two days before. She and Finn had been getting closer; so close that he often waited for her after school. So close that he often walked her to her next class. So close that he often stared at her for long periods of time, a wistful look upon his face. So close that after rehearsal one day, when they were discussing their chances for Regionals, he had leaned ever so intimately toward her until his lips were almost touching hers. She remembered how much she had wanted him to kiss her. She remembered how desperately she had wanted to feel his lips caressing hers. How badly she had wanted to feel herself wrapped up in his arms.

And then they had heard the laughter. Two boys from the football team had been walking by the room, and happened to peek inside. "Well, what do we have here?" one of the co-dependent jocks had demanded, crossing his arms over his beefy chest as a sick grin spread across his face.

"First Homo Explosion and now the lead Gleek herself," another (Karofsky?) had chided, shaking his head in disgust. "You're a disgrace, Hudson."

Finn looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes had widened, his mouth had parted, and he had looked from the boys to Rachel and back again. But even though Rachel smiled encouragingly, even though she reached down to take his hand, the football player had shut down completely.

"No," he replied, dropping Rachel's hand and scooting his chair a little to the side, "No, you guys don't know what you're talking about. We're just going over our song." And when Rachel's features twisted in hurt, he simply bit his lower lip and pretended as though he didn't notice. It was almost as though she weren't even in the room at all; almost as though Finn Hudson had suddenly deemed her invisible.

"Yeah," Karofsky scoffed, leering at the pair. "What was it again? Push It?"

"Come on, guys," Finn reiterated feebly, even while a guilty flush crept up his cheeks. "We're just teammates."

"Whatever," Karofsky replied, rolling his eyes. "Come on, dude," he said to his friend, motioning to the hallway, "We have better things to do than hang out with these losers."

"Losers," his friend repeated, smirking at them as he headed into the hallway . . .

. . . "Rach?" Finn interrupted her reverie, jolting her back to the present as he gazed at her in concern. "Is everything okay?"

Blinking away the last vestiges of the memory, Rachel suddenly shook Finn's hand from her arm. "Everything is just fine, Finn," she stated adamantly, fixing her jaw. She had given him so many chances; she had given him so many opportunities to be in her life. And she was tired of trying. She was tired of getting hurt, of feeling ashamed, simply because Finn Hudson couldn't see what was right in front of him. "And I have nothing to forgive you for," she continued loftily, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's certainly not your fault that you're embarrassed to be seen with me."

Finn's face dropped at the statement, and he tried to reach out for her again. "Rach, that's not –"

"I'm busy, Finn," she interrupted, whirling back around to face the front of the stage. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a musical number to perform." And with that, the curtains parted and Rachel flounced onto the stage, leaving a crestfallen Finn in her wake. The trouble was, she couldn't help but feel as though something was off.

~*~

Rachel stood behind the red velvet curtain, her stomach tied in knots even as she adopted her practiced professional demeanor. She had wanted this for so long; she had worked for this so hard. She could almost taste the admiration that she had always longed for. The acclaim. The exaltation. But even as she waited for her cue, even as she stretched her muscles for the energetic dance number, she couldn't help but feel as though something was missing. Something wasn't as it should be. And before she really knew what was happening, a pair of gentle cinnamon eyes flashed through her mind.

Finn Hudson.

He promised he would be here, she realized as her heart twisted uncomfortably. And even though she didn't know why she was remembering that now, even though she didn't know why she was thinking about him after all these years, she couldn't deny the effect the memories had on her. She couldn't deny the sense of emptiness that flooded her chest, or the feeling of loss that pervaded her mind. She also couldn't help but feel that something was off. But what? Finn Hudson? She hadn't seen him for years. She hadn't even though about him for months. So why now?

She was standing feet from the stage, leaning against the heavy curtain that separated her from the masses, and remembering the love of her life. The love of my life? she thought, her forehead wrinkling in consternation. Could that be right?

Had he really been the love of her life? They had met in high school, and dated for two years. But they had broken up a long time ago, and she had dated other men since then. So why was it that she couldn't shake the memory of his smile now? Why was it that she longed to see him out in the audience, staring raptly at her as she chimed in with her newest musical number? Why was it that she suddenly felt like she couldn't let him go?

So caught up in thought was she that she almost didn't notice the young stage hand sidle up to her side. When he finally interrupted her thoughts, she had to stop herself from jumping in bewilderment and whirling around to face him.

"Hey, Ms. Berry," the young man approached her from behind, his greasy blonde hair falling into his bright green eyes. "Someone sent these for you." A bouquet of roses was cradled in his wiry arms, their fragrance almost discernible even in the musky air.

Rachel's eyes widened in slight surprise as she reached out for the card. But when she read the greeting, when she saw the name signed below, her muscles tensed. "Thank you, Sammy," she said evenly, plunking the card back into the bouquet. "I appreciate you bringing them to my attention. Would you please place them on my makeup stand?"

"Of course, Ms. Berry," the young assistant stammered as Rachel smiled at him. Even if the smile failed to reach the depths of her beautiful brown eyes, it still lit up her face. "Right aw –"

"Cravens," the stage manager (Gary) barked, looking stern. "What have I told you about bothering the actors in between scenes?"

Rachel's smile turned slightly sympathetic as the young man stuttered incoherently and began backing away, Gary glowering at him the entire time. Just before he left, however, he stammered one last, "Good luck, Ms. Berry."

"Thank you, Sammy," she replied, secretly enjoying the attention. Even though the young man was at least five years her junior, she couldn't deny feeling special when he lavished her with his stuttered affections. It was the kind of feeling she had longed for her whole life; the kind of adoration. Even when she was receiving daily slushie facials, she always knew she would make it here. She always knew she was destined for greatness. Rachel Berry had been born a star, ready and waiting for her big Broadway debut.

That was exactly what she needed to remember now. That was exactly what she needed to focus on. She needed to put the ghost of her ex-boyfriend from her mind, and behave like the star she was destined to be. Pulling herself to her full height, she exhaled slowly and nodded when the stage manager signaled her to come onstage. Regardless of how she might be feeling, she was going to behave like the professional she was. She owed herself that much at least.

"Hey, chorus girl," came a snide voice from her right.

Rachel's stomach dropped as she turned to face the snooty lead, Lisa Mae Reynolds. "Yes?" she replied coolly, forcing herself to remain calm and detached even despite the other woman's arrogant glare. Ever since she had offered to help her reach some notes that she had been unable to reach (not everyone had Rachel Berry's training), the two hadn't gotten along. It appeared that tonight would be no exception.

"Don't screw it up," Lisa ordered, an ugly sneer forming at the corner of her mouth. "I want tonight to go perfectly, and I don't need a haughty peon stealing my thunder."

"Of course, Lisa," Rachel replied smoothly, even as she narrowed her eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it." And with that, she whirled around and sauntered away.

Unfortunately, things didn't go exactly as planned. Because as she glided onstage and joined in with the chorus, falling effortlessly into her dance routine, one memory continued to haunt her thoughts. One person continued to invade her mind. And one forgotten dream began to flutter to the surface of her consciousness.

Maybe this was why she blew her high note, causing Lisa to smile superiorly. Maybe this was why the lead shot her a look of disgust when she bumped into her from behind, causing her to stumble forward. And maybe this was why she thought she saw a wide-eyed Finn Hudson staring at her as she danced around the stage. Sitting in the front row with his brown hair slicked back and his muscular frame bedecked in a business suit, she could almost believe that she saw him gazing at her with the rapt attention she so longed for.

But then she quickly pushed that thought from her mind. Finn Hudson had fled her life long ago, and he wasn't coming back. He had made that much certain. So even as the man continued to stare, even as he continued to watch, and even as the cast took their final bows, she refused to look in his direction. There were some things Rachel Berry needed to leave in the past, and this was one of those things.

The problem was, she still couldn't shake the feeling that something vital was missing.

~*~

Nine Years Ago (Give or Take a Few Months) . . .

If you need a friend,

don't look to a stranger,

You know in the end,

I'll always be there.

Finn Hudson was an idiot. No, he was more than an idiot. He was a double idiot. A double idiot with a slushie on top, who might have screwed up the best thing that had ever happened to him. He still couldn't quite understand how it had happened. He still couldn't quite remember what had posses . . . posass . . . made him say what he'd said. The only thing he knew, the only thing he remembered, was a feeling of faint panic when the guys from the football team had caught him with Rachel. I mean, this was it. The Moment of Truth, like on that TV show he'd watched once. That big moment when everything changes.

And when you're in doubt,

and when you're in danger,

Take a look all around,

and I'll be there.

And Finn had wanted it to change, he realized as he sang the lead alongside Rachel. God, she was beautiful. He'd never seen anyone so honest, so open. So vulnerable. When she sang the way she was singing now, when her face glowed from within and her smokin' hot body completely relaxed, it was almost as if she was free. Like she didn't have a care in the world. Man, how he longed to feel that way. How he longed to feel like nothing – like no one – was holding him back.

The only time he felt that way – the only time – was when he was with Rachel. She made him feel like he could be himself; like she would never judge him, no matter what idiotic things he did. No matter what idiotic things he said. How could he have screwed up so badly? How could he have hurt her again? Idiot.

I'm sorry but I'm just thinking of the right words to say, (I promise)

I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be. (I promise)

But if you wait around a while, I'll make you fall for me,

I promise, I promise you I will.

Suddenly, the song seemed to take on a new life for Finn. The lyrics seemed to swirl through his mind, making sense where before they had not. Wrapping his arm around Rachel's waist as he swung her around the stage, he began to realize what "When in Rome" might have been feeling when they wrote this song. He had goofed up, yeah. He hadn't come up with the right words, and things definitely weren't the way he'd planned them to be. But he could change that, right? He could make it alright again. The only thing he had to do was show Rachel that he cared about her as much as she (he hoped) cared about him.

Almost without thinking, Finn held onto Rachel's arm even while the rest of New Directions continued to sing the song. Almost without thinking, his eyes flickered to her lips, even while her brow furrowed in confusion and annoyance. Almost without thinking, his eyes fluttered back up to her own intense gaze, locking onto her own eyes in a way he'd never looked at her before. In a way he'd never even allowed himself to look at her, as a variety of emotions suddenly pooled within his cinnamon gaze. And before she could pull away, before she could even contemplate what he was going to do next, he was pulling her toward him. He was closing the distance between them. And he was bringing his lips crashing down upon her own.

The song ended abruptly when Finn Hudson, high school quarterback, popular dude and all around American guy began making out with Rachel Berry the Lead Gleek right in front of the entire school. The audience gaped at them as Rachel tensed, her free arm dangling by her side. But Finn continued to kiss her, he continued to hold her, and he continued to show her everything he had denied for so long. Slowly, Rachel's eyes began to close and her fingers traveled to his russet hair, entangling themselves within his spiky locks. Pushing herself against his muscular frame, her lips caressed his almost as heatedly as his brushed hers.

Neither noticed when the curtain closed amidst a crowd of varying reactions, from the stunned Mr. Schuester to the jeering jocks to the bewildered amusement of their fellow glee clubbers.

"I hope they don't get stuck like that," Kurt mused, smirking slightly. "And here I thought he could do so much better."

"Maybe, but that boy sure can kiss," Mercedes ogled the pair.

"Do you think they're going to come up for oxygen?" Artie queried, his forehead creasing in concern. "I heard that lack of breathing could cause severe brain damage."

"Believe me, honey," Kurt cut in, his smirk growing more pronounced as he placed a hand on his hip. "Those two aren't even thinking about breathing right now."

Only a certain blonde appeared rather unimpressed. "Get a room," Quinn snapped before sweeping backstage, a bemused Puck following in her wake.

But Finn and Rachel simply ignored her, the way they were ignoring everyone else. And when Tina suggested that they give the star-crossed lovers some space, they were still enveloped in one another's arms. They were still lost in one another's kiss.

It was only several moments later, when everyone had vacated the auditorium, that Rachel finally broke the embrace. Taking several deep breaths, she stared in wide eyed astonishment at the boy standing before her. "Why did you do that?" she demanded, shaking her head. "Kissing me in front of the entire school isn't exactly going to help your precariously fragile reputation, Finn."

Willing his pulse to return to a normal rhythm, Finn could only shrug. "I realized something today," he admitted, swallowing a lump of tension.

"What was that?" Rachel asked, a guarded layer settling over her already vulnerable expression.

"I don't care what they think, Rachel," Finn replied, placing a gentle hand onto her arm. He paused for a moment, his heart beating like a Mack truck as he tried to think of the right words to say. As he tried to fix the awkwardness he could feel creeping up between them. "I . . . You're more important than that. You're kinda more important than anything."

"Finn," Rachel murmured, her hand rising almost inadvertently to rest atop his own. But then she seemed to think better, and the protected quality returned to her features. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep giving you chances and allowing you to stomp on my heart." Her gaze flickered to her feet, and she continued in a softer tone: "It hurts too much."

It was like a sucker punch to the gut. Seeing the dejected gleam in her eyes, and hearing the saddened inflection in her voice, almost caused him physical pain. He couldn't believe that he had hurt her so badly; he couldn't believe he had toyed with her heart so much. The only thing he knew was that he was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her. "Please, Rachel," he plead, rubbing the back of her arm with his calloused thumb. "Just give me one more chance? I promise to . . . I promise to treat you the way you deserve to be treated." God, how he wanted to do that.

When she looked at him next, when her gaze locked again with his own, the vulnerability he saw reflected there caused his heart to skip a beat. "How can I trust you?" she demanded, biting her lower lip. "You don't exactly have a stellar track record, you know."

"Because, Rach," he said, smiling gently even as his chest twisted at her statement. "I'm in love with you." The words came from out of nowhere, surprising him almost as much as they startled her. But once he'd spoken them, once they hung thick and heady in the air between them, he knew they were the truth. Somewhere along the line, this enigma of a misunderstood young ingénue had gotten him to fall in love with her. And along the way, she had changed his entire life.

"I love you," he repeated, relishing the words as they formed upon his tongue. Wrapping her in his arms, he continued to gaze into her glistening brown eyes. "And I want to be with you. I want to . . . I want to be the guy you can count on. You know? The guy who doesn't care what others think. The one who carries your books and . . . I don't know, takes care of you when you're sick." Yeah, it sounded lame, but he couldn't ignore the fact that she was hugging him tightly nor that the vulnerability in her eyes had increased. Feeling a renewed sense of confidence, he continued. "I want to be the guy who comes to all your plays. The guy who sits in the front row on the night of your big Broadway debut. I mean it, Rachel," he rushed ahead when she opened her mouth to interrupt. Somehow, he knew he had to keep going. He had to keep talking, he had to let it all out, before she took it all away. He had to let her know how he felt if he was ever going to have a chance of keeping her in his life. "I want to be that one, Rach. That guy who goes through it all with you. And I know this is really lame," he confessed, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "But I had to say something."

"Are you done yet, Finn?" she asked, a husky essence entering her voice. God, that was sexy. It caused him to shiver slightly.

"I think so," he replied uncertainly, folding his lips as he waited for his sentence to be handed down.

"Good," she replied, her smile almost as sexy as her voice. And then she was standing on her tiptoes and capturing his lips in a searing kiss, all the hesitation from earlier having evaporated. The last thing he remembered was her small body flush against his own as her fingers returned to his hair. Soon after that, the world fell away as he surrendered to her touch.

~*~

He had forgotten what a rush he got from even sitting in a crowded theatre. The adrenaline that pumped through his veins, the thrill that coursed through his chest. It was like some far distant memory, forgotten yet still present, lost but still capable of return. Resting his arms on the armrests in a front row seat (yeah, he'd decided to splurge), he waited almost breathlessly for the play to begin. Okay, this was a little lame. He knew that he had work to do. He knew that he had a meeting to prepare for. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from thumping his foot in time to the music flowing from a nearby speaker. Being back in a theatre was just cool.

Too bad Rachel isn't here to see this. She would have lov . . . And then he cut himself off. Where had that thought come from? He hadn't thought about Rachel since . . . well, since that afternoon. Standing in the middle of Times Square with the theatre marquee blinking at him from across the street, he hadn't been able to suppress the image of her perky smile or the memory of her gorgeous eyes. She had wanted this. She had wanted all of this. And he was supposed to share it with her. He had promised to be that guy.

But that was in high school, he reminded himself as his chest twisted almost painfully. That was a long time ago. She probably wouldn't even recognize me now.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Finn was almost grateful when the house lights began to dim. Perched on the edge of his chair, a slow smile spread across his face as the actors began to come onstage. And when the rich vocals began to wash over him, he kinda felt like he had come home. Yeah, he admonished himself, feeling the sudden urge to roll his eyes, Definitely lame.

Still, he continued to absorb every word, to study every movement, and to feel the rekindling of something he hadn't felt for a long, long time. A sensation which was almost overpowering. A sensation which was almost magical. A sensation which suddenly increased exponentially in force when he noticed the tiny young woman seated at a wooden table at stage left.

He didn't think it was medically possible, but he could have sworn that his heart stopped beating inside his chest. She was exactly as he remembered her, and nothing at all like he had imagined. Decked in a French peasant's costume, her magnificent vocals blended perfectly with the other actors and yet set her apart from everyone else. Rachel Berry had always been an enigma, and tonight was no exception. But had she always been this beautiful? Somehow, he couldn't remember.

The only thing he could do, the only action he was capable of performing was staring at her in slack jawed wonder. His hands tightened imperceptibly around the armrests as he scooted forward in his seat, staring at the gorgeous woman in front of him. The gorgeous woman. She was a woman now. Rachel Berry had grown up.

He didn't know how long the play lasted. He couldn't recall exactly how he made it out of the theatre. He didn't even understand how he'd been able to sit still as long as he had. He only started to return to reality when the cold night air began to assault his cheeks and whip through his short brown hair. Without even realizing what he was doing, he was making the trek to the stage door. Would she remember him? Did he even want to find out? What if she hated him? What if she told him that she never wanted to see him again? It had been so long . . .

"That was one hell of an opening night," the excited cry of a young man cut through his thoughts, causing his head to snap in the reveler's direction. "We were smokin'."

"Did you hear Missy's rendition of 'On My Own'?" A woman queried, a wide grin stretched across her face. "It was her best yet."

"I was too busy calming Lisa down," said another member of the party. "I thought she was going to hit the roof after Rachel bumped into her during her big number. She almost quit right then," he chortled. "She was going on and on. Something about incompetent peons."

At the sound of her name, Finn's interest was piqued. And when the next person spoke, he found himself freezing in his tracks and straining to hear everything that was said.

"Rachel was awesome, wasn't she?" said a pimply faced boy with greasy blonde hair. "She has such a great voice."

"The chick who almost caused Lisa to quit?" the previous woman asked. "But she's just a chorus member."

"Sammy's got a crush," drawled the first young man as he elbowed the blonde. "Ever since she told him she liked his shirt."

"Cut it out," Sammy muttered, dropping his head and blushing. "I just think she has a good voice, that's all."

"She's got a great voice," Finn said, blinking in surprise when he registered his own words. He hadn't even intended to speak. "I mean, from what I've heard, anyway," he mumbled quickly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Do you know her?" Sammy asked curiously , arching a bushy blonde brow.

Finn stared at the young man for a long moment, weighing his words within his mind. Do I know her? He remembered a time when he couldn't fathom not knowing her. She had been the center of his life, the pinnacle of his existence. She had been his everything. But now, as he faced this innocent, starry-eyed kid, he realized that he'd stopped knowing Rachel long ago. A dull ache resounded through his chest as he slowly shook his head. "I used to," he said softly as an uncomfortable prickling sensation formed at the back of his eyes. "A long time ago."

"Wow," Sammy seemed oblivious to Finn's uncomfortable realization. "She's amazing, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Finn replied, nodding wistfully. "She's the most amazing person I've ever known." A lump began to coalesce within his throat, and he quickly turned away. "Excuse me," he stated, swallowing harshly, "I have to get back to my hotel." And with that, he beat a hasty retreat, leaving the group gawking after him.

It was only later, when he'd made it back to the Sheraton, that he realized he'd forgotten to say hello. But then, he had already said goodbye.