Los Angeles, California

"Rachel," Hiram Berry said to his daughter, stopping her before she got out of the car. "Are you sure about this?"

Rachel nodded her head silently. "I am," she whispered. "This is what I want, Daddy. I never want to go back to Ohio again. Noah made it clear—he doesn't want to see me ever again. He hates me."

She grabbed her bag, walking out of the car and into the apartment building where they were going to be living for now.

Leroy and Hiram had agreed to indulge their daughter for the time being—they hadn't sold their house. The figured once this all blew over, she would be dying to go back home. Rachel could be a bit of a drama queen, after all.

The Berry family had driven from Lima, not wanting to take a plane after Rachel's disastrous last flight. Instead, they'd spent three days driving across the country, finally arriving in Los Angeles late Tuesday evening. Leroy went in to see the building superintendent while Rachel and Hiram unpacked their suitcases. They'd had a moving truck come down and move their stuff in a day before, making it much easier to just go in and relax when they arrived.

Once they had the keys to their apartment, Rachel followed her dads upstairs to the three-bedroom apartment. It was actually relatively nice. Not elegant, but not a Bate's Motel-esque place either. She could live here for the time being—at least for a few months.

Rachel flipped open her new phone—complete with a new number—and looked at the five numbers she had programed into it—Dad, Dad, Kurt, Jesse, and Noah. She knew she was being stupid putting the last one in there, but it was just in case. Just in case she got the nerve up to call him and apologize for being herself and not thinking about him when she made a decision.

Rachel walked into her room, dropping her bag on the floor before flopping onto her bed, scrolling through the texts Jesse had sent her while they were driving—'im excited to c u', 'ur gonna love la', ill pick u up 4 lunch tmrw'. She supposed she was excited to see him. It was like seeing an old classmate—she wasn't dying to see him, but it would be nice to see someone she knew.

Rachel highlighted Kurt's name before pressing call and placed the phone next to her ear. She heard the ringing noise before there was a click.

"You have some explaining to do," Kurt said angrily, not even bothering with a hello. Rachel had texted Kurt, telling him she'd call him later. He'd responded with just as much hostility then as he was giving her now.

"What do you want me to tell you, Kurt?" she replied in a quiet voice.

"The truth!" he snapped. "Why, Rachel? Why'd you leave? And why didn't you tell me?"

Shit, she'd never even thought about that. All she was concerned with was putting as much distance between her and Noah as possible. But Kurt…he was one of her best friends. Self-centered Rachel never even thought to tell him she was leaving. Hell, she'd never even said goodbye.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have told you. I…I should have said goodbye."

"And what about Puck? Did you think about him or did you just think about yourself again?"

A confused expression crossed Rachel's face, even though Kurt couldn't see it. "What are you talking about? He hates me. He doesn't want to see me again," she murmured.

Kurt let out a sigh. "He came to me on Saturday, going on and on about how he thought you hated him. So I told him to go get you back since you still loved him. He called me basically in tears when he found out you skipped town without so much as a goodbye. He's heartbroken, Rachel. Congratulations—you broke Noah Puckerman's heart."

"Shut up, he hated me. I know he did. He didn't want me anymore," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "He said 'that's it, I'm done' before he left my house. Why would he want to get back to me after that?"

"Because he loves you, Rachel!" Kurt shouted into the phone. "Or he did—I'm not so sure now. He's like a zombie now. He goes to classes, but he doesn't talk. He stopped coming to glee club. It's like he lost all the happiness in his life, and that's your fault," he accused.

Rachel chewed on her bottom lip as Kurt's words sunk in. Fuck, she'd screwed up big time. And now it was too late to fix it—she was in Los Angeles. She couldn't just run back to Lima to apologize to him.

"Could you…" She paused, wiping her eyes. "Could you tell him I'm sorry?" she asked meekly.

"Rachel, stop chewing that pretty lip of yours and stop crying. I'll try and make this right," Kurt promised. "Though I don't know if I can."

"What do you mean you don't know if you can?" she asked with a hint of panic in her voice.

"I told you, Rachel—it might be too late. Have fun with Jesse tomorrow—I'll call you after school," he promised before hanging up the phone.

"Yeah, talk to you then," she whispered, looking down at her phone sadly.

The next morning, Jesse came up to the Berry's new apartment, an air of superiority about him. After all, he was the star of a successful TV show.

Rachel's dads insisted on getting him something to drink, even though they didn't have anything except water in the apartment. Jesse seemed to be okay with it, though.

Rachel walked out of her room, dressed in a simple sundress with tan sandals strapped to her feet. Jesse smiled at her, running a hand through his perfectly groomed hair. "Rachel, you're a vision," he complimented, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

Rachel smiled, a blush touching her cheeks, though she couldn't help but feel that this was slightly wrong. She didn't want to give Jesse the wrong impression—this was strictly professional.

Rachel waved goodbye to her fathers, heading out of the apartment with Jesse and into his very flashy car. She couldn't hide her astonishment at the sight of it.

"Do you like it?" he asked, taking in her expression. "It was a gift from the studio after we were picked up for a second season," he bragged. "I am the star, after all."

In the back of her mind, Rachel remembered why she didn't go out with him again after the junior prom—he was still as arrogant as he used to be. Hollywood had just made that trait worse.

Rachel climbed into the car, making sure the back of her dress didn't fly up and expose her underwear—there were photographers all around them, wildly taking pictures.

"Don't worry, Rach," Jesse said as he climbed into the car, placing the key into the ignition. "You get used to the paparazzi. After all, you get more worried when they stop stalking you for picture." He let out a laugh, peeling away from her apartment, leaving the men eager for a photograph of the two in the dust. "I guarantee there will be speculation the two of us are dating by tonight," he chuckled.

"But I don't want people to think we're dating," she whispered, already overwhelmed by the city. She wasn't sure this was what she wanted now. She should have said no and stuck with her dream of New York instead.

"Having second thoughts?" he asked, picking up on her insecurities. "Relax, it'll get better, I promise. People are just so enthralled with you and your survival story at the moment. You're hot news, Rachel. And hot news sells magazines. Couple that with a popular actor, and you're looking at record sales for the week. How could someone like Star pass that up?" he asked.

"But can't we sue them for lying? I mean, we're not dating," she reminded him.

"Oh, they won't say anything that's an outright lie. They'll just make wild speculations and show photos of me coming out of your apartment or us at lunch. People will make their own judgments from that."

Rachel let out a groan. Great, just what she wanted. Her relationship with Noah was a mess, and now every gossip blog was going to report she was in a fictional relationship.

Jesse pulled into the valet line for Lucque's, handing the attendant his keys, as well as a large tip. Rachel rolled her eyes a little, guessing he was just showing off for her. He held his arm out to her, and she took it, allowing him to lead her inside.

The two were seated instantly after the hostess and Jesse chatted for a few minutes. Their table was in the back, more private than some of the other tables. Jesse ordered them a bottle of mineral water before turning to Rachel, a smile on his face.

"So, what do you think of the city so far?" he asked pleasantly, placing his napkin on his lap.

"It's okay," she said. "I mean, I don't hate it, but I kind of wish I was in New York instead," she admitted.

Jesse smiled over at her. "I know—that's your dream. But if you do this movie, Rachel, you'll get your dream and so much more. This movie is going to launch you into superstardom!" he grinned, spreading his arms apart for effect.

Rachel toyed with the napkin in her lap, not meeting his eyes. She'd been having second thoughts about the movie ever since last night. Puck didn't want her to do this, and now she wasn't sure she wanted to do it, either.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning.

"It's just...I don't think Noah's okay with this movie, with me playing myself and someone else playing him."

Jesse let out a sigh, thanking the waitress as she brought them their water. He opened the bottle, pouring Rachel and himself a glass. "Rachel, are you going to let some guy hold you back from your dream? I thought you said never again after Hudson tried to change you."

"Well, yeah but—"

"But nothing! This is your life, Rachel! Are you going to let some guy make decisions for you instead of doing what you're destined for?"

"Destined?" she asked, her face heating up. That was a big compliment coming from Jesse.

"Yes, destined. From the moment I met you, I knew you were going to be a star. And this is it, Rachel. This is your one chance! Please, take a chance on me and say yes," he begged.

Rachel chewed on her lip, thinking over everything he had said. "Well, I'll at least help with the script," she eventually said. "I'll have to think about starring in it."

A grin spread onto Jesse's face. "You won't regret this, I promise," he laughed, kissing her cheek.

xxxxx

Three months later

"No, change that," Rachel said, pointing to a line of text on the computer screen. "Noah would never say anything like that," she reasoned, giving Jesse a look.

With a sigh, he deleted the line, drumming his fingers on the desk as he thought. "I don't know how to end this damn script!" he yelled, knocking the empty cup of coffee onto the ground of his office. Rachel was seated next to him dressed in an oversized sweater and jeans, her dark hair pulled back into a messy braid. The two of them, along with help from Jesse's college friend, had been hard at work for the past few months on the script, and it was finally done.

Well, almost.

"Everything I write sounds stupid and clichéd. It has to be perfect!" he yelled, banging his fist on the desk.

Rachel placed a hand on his arm, attempting to relax him. "Hey, calm down," she soothed. "We have time. Just take a breather and think. It'll come to you."

Rachel had become an expert at calming Jesse down when he became frustrated or angry, which seemed to be every day. As much as she hated to admit it, she'd actually been having fun in LA with him. After Kurt called her and told her that Puck had told her to 'go to hell', she decided to make the most of her time in Los Angeles.

She'd been going to clubs with Jesse and his friends, having fun for once in her life. She had nothing to worry about except the script. She had no boyfriend, no daily school, no glee club.

Well, she did miss that. She wasn't even singing anymore. Instead, she was going to clubs and dancing. Despite the fun she was having, she knew it wasn't her.

Her and Jesse were still just friends, despite his attempts to be something more. They'd shared one kiss after a night of drinking, but as soon as she realized wheat she was doing, she took a cab home and cried herself to sleep.

No matter how hard she tried to forget him, she just couldn't. Noah was the last thing she saw in her mind before she fell asleep. Every day, she would stare at his name on her phone, forcing herself not to call him and beg him to take her back.

"Ha! I got it!" Jesse shouted, typing furiously. "Rach, take a look," he said. Jesse had begun calling her that, and after a week, she stopped caring.

Rachel rolled her chair over to the computer, reading what Jesse had just typed. "It's perfect," she proclaimed. "I love it, Jesse. I love the whole script."

"Let's just hope the studio loves it," he said, saving it before attaching it to an email. He sent it to the producer before turning to Rachel. "Now we wait and pray he loves it."

"How long will that take?" she asked.

"Could be awhile." Jesse bit his lip, a habit he had picked up from Rachel.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Do you think he's going to hate it or something?" she worried. If Jesse didn't have faith in their script, there was no way the producer would, either.

Jesse shook his head. "No, that's not it. Rachel, I'm so sorry," he blurted out.

Rachel was taken aback. Sorry for what? Did he do something to her and she had forgotten…

"Sorry for what?" she asked.

"For cracking the egg on your head," he sighed. "I never should have done that to you. It's been eating me up inside ever since that day in the parking lot."

Rachel let out a small laugh. "Jesse, I've gotten over that. That was almost two years ago."

"Yeah, but even if it was ten years ago, it was a dick move. Vocal Adrenaline was telling me I needed to cut ties with you since you were clouding my concentration." He took her hand. "I'm so sorry. Please, tell me you forgive me."

Rachel smiled a little. "I forgive you, Jesse. You were a kid, just like me. You still are a kid, no matter how hard you try not to be."

Jesse smiled a little. "Well, I'm a rich kid, at least," he said, handing her an envelope. "Happy Hanukah."

"Hanukah isn't for another week," Rachel reminded him, though she tore the give open anyways. She looked down at the ticket: LAX to CMH for Friday.

"What's this for?" she asked, feeling her heart beating fast. Was this what she thought it was?

"It's a plane ticket so you can go home for the holidays."

"But this is my home," she said, giving him a look. "I live in an apartment with my dads. I…I…"

"No, your home is Lima. I know you miss it, as well as everyone there. I want you to go there for the holidays. Besides, I have another surprise."

"What?" she asked as he pulled her to her feet, leading her out of the office and to his car. "Jesse, where are we going?"

"To the salon. Have you looked in the mirror, Rach? You are in serious need of a day at the beauty parlor."

"But why?" she demanded, entirely confused at this point.

"Because. I'm going to help you get Puck back."