Rachel didn't think she was going to enjoy herself. Quinn had insisted that she go, saying that the friend she had was definitely worth it. So Rachel had gone along on this merry little charade, perfectly content to utilize the acting skills she had honed over the years.
But Noah Puckerman had turned out to be a complete revelation. Sure there was the excessive use of profanity and cocky arrogance that had always followed him around in Lima. But this time there was also self-assurance and Rachel contemplates why she hadn't actually kept in contact with Puck. It wasn't any sort of conscious decision, she thinks. It was just that life had swept her up, and suddenly she was this whole other person, and high school just seemed so yesterday.
But then she had bumped into Kurt and the domino effect had just happened. She hadn't been lying when she had told Puck that travelling had kept her busy. Amongst other things, of course. Her fingers automatically reach for the chain around her neck. The morning sun is filtering through the blinds in the spare room Mike and Matt had graciously offered her.
(Rachel remembers the absolute Cheerio fit Quinn had thrown when she found out where Rachel was staying. But being cooped up in a house with Mr and Mrs Hudson wasn't going to help her pull herself out of this…funk)
There is a muffled thump and Rachel shakes her head in amusement when she hears Mike chastise Matt.
'Dude, she's sleeping!'
'Do you think Puck's in there with her?' Matt whispers back (loudly).
Rachel smiles when she hears Mike's affronted tone. 'She's classy man. Don't disrespect.'
Their voices trail away and Rachel turns away from the sun, pulling her necklace and grasping the rings that clink together. Something presses down against her and Rachel wishes that she can just lie there with these two round pieces of metal, hold on to them for dear life. But she'd come back to New York because she needed to move on. Not wanted, needed.
She doesn't think she can bear this horrible sadness that is slowly sucking the life out of her.
Rachel finger combs her hair and grabs her toiletries bag, opening her door quietly and padding softly towards the bathroom. She wrinkles her nose slightly when she sees how…messy the bathroom is. Quickly brushing her teeth and splashing some water onto her face, Rachel marches out to Mike and Matt.
'Hey Elle!' Mike chirps up and Matt hands her a cup of black coffee. Her hands shake slightly as she receives it because that was the way he'd taken it, but Rachel solves her dilemma by gently telling them both that she doesn't drink the beverage.
'What?' Matt looks at her like she's an alien.
'Could you please point me in the direction of your cleaning supplies?' She asks them both instead, watching as Mike's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline and Matt blinks.
'You're kind of our guest,' Matt tells her slowly. Rachel gives them both a shrewd look.
'Your bathroom isn't fit for human occupation.'
'It's next to the washing machine,' Mike tells her, as if a switch has been flipped inside his head. 'We're just going to head over to work so we'll see you later?'
'Of course,' she assures them. She puts on the rubber gloves and fills the pale with water, splashing some disinfectant and watches the bubbles form a thin layer of foam over the surface. This is how she spends the next few hours, scrubbing and mopping every square inch of the bathroom until she can actually see her reflection on the floor.
She traces a finger against that reflection, seeing the woman for what she is. Trying to fix herself, trying to fix everything around her. The doorbell shatters the spell and Rachel glances at the clock hanging above the coffee machine, seeing that it is almost noon. Her clothes are a mess and her hair is matted with sweat. But Mike and Matt have seen her at her worst so she doesn't see any problem with opening the door in her tank top and boxer shorts.
Noah stares at her across the threshold and Rachel feels her eyes widen in surprise.
'Berry?' He asks and she realizes that she hadn't let on about where she was staying. Noah peers around her shoulder, as if expecting Mike or Matt to pop out of nowhere.
'Oh hello Noah,' she greets him as if he were an old friend. Which he was she tells herself, though the bond between them has always been tenuous at best.
'Are you…you're fucking staying here?' One eyebrow is raised when he says this. Rachel resists the urge to twist her fingers together as if she is guilty of something she isn't.
'The boys were gracious enough to extend their hospitality yes,' she replies and gives in and tugs at the hem of her tank top. The cotton is slightly damp. 'Though they're both not home at the moment. I'm just about to meet them for lunch if you're interested in waiting.'
She has no idea why she extends the invitation. But Noah shrugs his broad shoulders.
'You aren't going to take like two hours to get ready are you?' There is a wary tone buried inside his question. Rachel shakes her head.
'I'm not going on stage,' she promises. 'I'll be half an hour. I need to take a shower,' she explains already heading towards her room. She cleans up the detergents and cleaning supplies and returns them to their place before taking a quick shower. For some reason she is aware of Noah's presence in the house and it unsettles her. Throwing her leotard into a bag, Rachel shrugs on a worn sweatshirt that is a few sizes too big for her small frame over a pair of jeans. She finds it odd that Noah doesn't ask her a thing about the sweatshirt when she can see the question in his eyes. He waits as she locks the door behind her (how long has she been staying here if she's got a key?) and nonchanlantly lifts the small duffle she's placed by her feet.
'Don't make a big deal out of it,' Puck mumbles under his breath to her and Rachel grins. It seems that Puck still tries to keep his sweet side hidden away like some kind of taboo.
'So how long have you been crashing with Tweedledum and Tweedledee?' Noah wonders out loud as he opens the door to his Range Rover for her. Matt and Mike's studio is only a few blocks away but Rachel decides to just get in the car.
'Just a week or two,' she tells him. 'It was a spur of the moment decision really.' She wants to distract him. 'Any luck with that new song?'
She can tell that Puck knows what she's trying to do. He flicks on the indicator and filters into traffic, decides to humour her.
'Still stuck in the same fucking rut as before,' Puck says and he wonders what its been about Rachel Berry that makes it so easy to talk to her. During the one week they were together she didn't shut the hell up, Puck muses, but whenever he said something she made sure to give him her undivided attention. It was a rare quality that Puck hadn't encountered much in his adult life.
'Well it helps if you don't think about it too much,' Rachel informs him, her lips curling into a smile as she remembers how Jeremy had dragged her along with his camera, his voice enthusiastic as he rambled on about the story the sunset could tell.
'Do you do that before a show or something?' Puck's question makes her realize that she isn't staring out the deck of the Eiffel Tower. She scratches her neck and feels the chain, something like peace dislodging the lump in her throat.
'Of course not. My routine ensures that I am one hundred percent prepared for my sojourn on stage Noah. I'm simply relaying advice that I have received from other sources.'
'Did you do any plays in New York?'
'There was an off Broadway production once I got out of Julliard but the majority of my work has been largely in London, with a few other places scattered in between,' she doesn't say it to rub it in his face. It is a matter of fact and Rachel has worked too hard to let some misguided jealously make her feel ashamed of what she has achieved.
'So you planning to do something here?' There is a pattern to his questions, Rachel can discern.
Rachel shakes her head, seeing the glass windows of Complex Rhythm fill the windscreen. Mike and Matt had worked as background dancers before finally pooling their resources together and setting up a studio dedicated to the craft they loved. Their clientele largely consisted of students who wanted to dance professionally, but they also accommodated those who just wanted to have fun. It was a small but thriving studio that Rachel thought could prove a perfect distraction.
'I'm planning to do something, yes,' Rachel says as Puck parks the car, grabbing her duffle as he gets out. She's out of the car before he can open the door for her and Rachel gives him a half-smile as he smirks. It is then that something occurs to her.
'Why do you need to see Michael and Matthew?' Her brow furrows.
Before he can answer Mike is slamming through the front door, shading his eyes from the afternoon sun.
'Hey man. Nice timing. And you brought Elle!' Mike grabs her hand as she says this.
'Elle?' Puck mutters.
'You guys came together?' Mike asks.
'I thought you guys were at home so I swung by there first. Saw Berry and she hitched a ride,' Puck retorts casually but Mike gives him forced smiles.
'Oh. Yeah. We forgot to mention that we had a house bunny.'
'I sincerely hope that there is simply a joke Michael,' Rachel warns. Puck wants to laugh when she sees Mike flinch.
'I meant that in a completely non-sexist way.'
Puck snorts.
'I'm just going to drop this off in my office,' Rachel tells them both, gently prying her duffle from Puck's grip. Their fingers brush and there is something electric that startles her. It makes Rachel hurry her pace, shaking her head and blaming it on her lack of sleep.
'Berry has an office here?' She can hear Puck demand before his voice fades away.
'Remember how we said we needed another vocal coach for the singing thing?' Mike claps Puck on the back after he says this, sending a wide grin in the direction Rachel had departed.
'You have got to be fucking kidding me,' is all Puck can manage.