When Rachel walked into his room, Jesse knew he was in trouble. When he saw that she carried with her a planner and a notebook, he knew he was doomed.
"Why are you still in bed?" Rachel asked, though she was still clad in her purple, silk pajamas herself.
Jesse shifted into a more up-right seating position. Removing his glasses, he moved his eyes from the scrip he had been reading to give Rachel his full attention.
"Just doing some light reading," he answered. "Besides, it's only eight."
"Exactly! It's eight. That means we've missed out on three extra hours of preparing and organizing!"
"What are we preparing for again?" Jesse asked, confused. Nether the less, he scooted from the middle of his bed to the right side, giving Rachel plenty of room to join him.
As Rachel slipped into the bed beside him, she threw him a disbelieving look.
"You honestly can't think of anything we would need to be planning for?" Rachel asked as she flipped her planner to the current month.
"Nope," Jesse led. "Nothing comes to mind."
"Oh, really," Rachel said, catching on to his scheme. "So this date means absolutely nothing to you?" She pointed to the last day and looked at him knowingly.
"That day is a day just like any other."
"Jesse!" Rachel exclaimed in frustration, and for a moment Jesse wondered if he had actually gone too far. "Cut it out! Your birthday is a bid deal, and this year we are throwing you a party. You're turning twenty-one! How could you not be excited about that? You should be excited about that."
"Rachel, I love you," Jesse paused and smirked to admire the way her cheeks still flushed whenever he said the "l" word, "But, I don't want some big, fake, Hollywood party with a bunch of fake people kissing my ass for the pure inevitability of turning a year older."
"Sorry," Rachel sighed.
"It's okay," Jesse assured. "I just –"
"But you're having a party."
"But –"
"No buts! I bought that whole 'Hollywood is fake and icky' speech last year!"
"Okay. My voice does not –"
"But I want to do this for you. I promise, promise, promise I won't go overboard. Please, please, please let me do this."
"You better be getting me one hell of a birthday present," Jesse ceded with a sigh.
"Funny you should mention that," Rachel smiled ruefully. "I've recently acquired a Beatles album I'm sure you'd be very interested in."
"I've changed my mind. I take back what I said before."
"You say a lot of things."
"I don't love you anymore. I fell quite the opposite, actually."
"Jesse!"
But his lips silenced any protests she could have made.
Jesse stood next to the stove, steadily chopping the bright assortment of peppers, onions, and greens in front of him. When all of the vegetables were adequately diced, he slid half of them into the heating skillet containing his soon-to-be-stir-fried chicken and the other half into Rachel's tofu-bearing skillet.
"Have I ever told you that watching you cook might be my favorite thing to do," the voice came from behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder to see that Rachel had taken a seat at that island behind him.
"It better be for the burns I suffered taking that cooking class."
"Please, it was one little burn on your forearm."
"It scarred me for life," Jesse protested.
"Literally," Rachel sniggered.
"Okay, okay," Jesse agreed, laughing. "Maybe cooking class wasn't so bad. And the instructor was pretty h–"
"Finish that sentence and that scar on your forearm isn't the only one you're going to have."
"I was going to say helpful!" Jesse exclaimed innocently, and he turned back to finish cooking.
"Sure you were," Rachel replied knowingly.
They stayed in comfortable silence until Jesse had placed both of their meals on separate plates and joined her at the island.
"You never did tell me what the script you were reading this morning was for," Rachel mentioned.
"It was nothing really," Jesse shrugged. He hoped that she would let the subject be dropped at that.
"You seemed pretty wrapped up in it. I stood in your doorway for almost a solid minute before you even noticed I was there."
"Really?" Jesse asked. He cocked a brow curiously.
"Yeah, and you had your glasses on. You only wear those when your tired which implies that you stayed up for quite some time last night reading it. Or, you woke up early this morning."
"I can't get anything past you, can I?"
"Not if I can help it," Rachel smiled. "If it's a project you're interested in doing then I would want to know about it."
"It's grabbed my attention, that's for sure."
"So do you think you're going to do it?" Rachel asked.
"I really don't know. It's definitely different from what I'm used to. It'd be a real game changer, and I'm not sure I'm willing to risk it," Jesse replied honestly. He thought back to the script that rested in his bedside drawer.
"Are you going to tell me what it is?" Rachel questioned.
"Eventually," Jesse nodded. "But for right now, I think I really need to figure out if it's something I want to do. This hiatus I'm on has given me a lot of time to think about where I want to go with my career. I really think this project could make or break me. I've just got to figure out the risk and reward side before I start bringing in other opinions."
"So the script is good?"
Jesse smirked, "I don't waste my time reading or considering anything that isn't."
"Well, while you spend your time being notoriously vague, I've got to be at the studio for table reads in forty-five minutes."
"I'll call Rodger and tell him to bring the limo around."
Rachel hopped out to the limo at the studio after throwing a quick thank-you to Rodger. She checked the time on her black and gold embellished Betsy Johnson watch to see that she was five minutes ahead of schedule. Finally, she wasn't going to be the last cast member to the read.
She turned down the studio halls with an easy familiarity. Effortlessly, she by passed security with a friendly wave and offered a smile and a "hello" to every secretary she passed. She finally found herself in front of the main elevator and pressed the up button.
As Rachel waited for the elevator, she tapped her gladiator sandal-clad foot against the floor impatiently. She was almost ready to forget the elevator and take the stairs. All she wanted to do was beat Sam to work today. Was that so much to ask?
But, as fait would have it, right as the elevator door opened, she heard her name being called from down the hall.
"Rachel! Hold the door!"
Rachel, knowing the voice anywhere shouted back without a glance.
"Sorry, Sammy! You snooze you lose!"
With a victoriously laugh, she sped into the elevator and pressed the "Door Close" button just in time to see Sam rush into the elevator bank a second too late.
Sitting in her specified seat and having the one next to her be uncharacteristically empty inspired a feeling of victory much greater than Rachel would have expected.
The entire cast, it seemed, was surprised she had made it before Sam. He was always the punctual one when it came to the show's two leading actors. Even Harry and Miles had offered her congratulations for actually being on time.
Sam, however, seemed less than thrilled with her beating him. When he entered the room approximately three minutes after her, he threw her a stubborn glare before sitting next to her with his arms crossed.
"Sam, so nice of you to grace us with your presence," Harry greeted sarcastically. For once, Rachel got to laugh along with the rest of the cast, for it was not being directed at her this time.
"I would just like to point out that I would have been here on time if Rachel hadn't have closed the elevator door on me."
"I did no such thing!" Rachel exclaimed as if she was horrified that Sam would ever accuse her of doing so.
"Um, It sure did seem that way when you yelled out 'You snooze you lose' and then ran into the elevator laughing like a freaking hyena."
"You have no proof," Rachel shrugged.
"There are cameras in the hall."
"I'm pleading the fifth."
"That's what I thought," Sam nodded and gave her the first smile he had given her all day.
"Hey, Lucy and Ricky, would you like to get to work anytime soon?" Harry asked from his seat at the head of the table.
"Hey, no need for name calling. We'll get to work, won't we Rach?"
"Nothing would make me happier," Rachel replied innocently. She flipped her script to the first page and took a deep breath. Time to become Samantha Logan.
There we have Chapter Four!
Now, I said I would answer some questions I got P. to me, so here I have answered some! If your question isn't answered here, check your inbox because I answered some that way.
1. What's you're favorite Spring Awakeningmoment/song?
That's kind of a tough one... I'd say that my favorite part would be in the beginning when Melchior stands up for Moritz during Latin class. And then my favorite song is most likely "And Then There Were None" because John Gallagher Jr.'s voice and emotion is crazy amazing.
2. Will Sam Evans become Jesse's competition?
In order to not give too much away, Sam could stir up some drama in the future. I'll leave it at that.
3. Is Rachel considered an A-lister because of her show?
Hmm... I wouldn't say she's an A-lister... I'm assuming A-listers are people such as George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio, Meryl Streep, and in this story Jesse St. James. What you really have to remember is that Rachel's show is about to start its second season, so it's still relatively new. I'd say her stardom is about where a cast member of Glee's would be. Plus a little bonus for the attention of dating Jesse.
So... Thoughts?