Oops, sorry for the delay, insert heart breakingly sincere excuse here. Anyway this is for anyone who still remembers this story - feel free to review, it might make the next gap between chapters shorter :)
Big thanks to Eyghon for her quick proof reading and ever welcome suggestions.
Cassie sank into the chair behind her desk. Maybe it was for the best that Rachel had an iron tight arrangement with Kurt for that evening that - judging from her increasingly frustrated text messages - she was finding it impossible to extract herself from. Kurt had decided that he and Stefan needed to include Rachel more in their social arrangements and had even gone so far as to allow her to choose whether she wanted to sing Maurice or Robin Gibb's part in the planned Bee Gees performance at Callbacks that evening. That was as much of a concession as Kurt was prepared to make so the song of choice had led to much bickering via text with Cassie being kept in the loop by an exasperated Rachel. She seemed convinced their performance would be a 'tragedy' regardless of the chosen tune although Kurt's preference for 'You should be dancing' was trying Rachel's admittedly limited patience. She'd suggested 'staying alive' might be a bit ambitious for Kurt if he carried on being quite so Kurt-like and he responded the only tune he really wanted to hear her singing was 'you win again.' Although the Bee Gee debate was proving an amusing distraction, part of Cassie's brain was still mulling over the bombshell Carmen had dropped on her. She needed space and time to process it all and thinking was difficult with Rachel around. Thinking about anything other than Rachel whether she was around or not was also hard but Carmen's comments had managed the nigh impossible and she had spent the day torn between dreamy thoughts of Rachel and scared thoughts about Carmen's words. It was the kind of offer she'd used to dream about in her, admittedly rare, optimistic moments before the dark clouds of depression and despair returned to swallow her up.
Carmen had carefully mentioned she'd been approached by Mark Beaufort recently at a fund raising NYADA event to solicit her opinion on whether Cassie would be amenable to an approach to discuss a new project he had in mind. Mark Beaufort – often nicknamed Midas for his uncanny ability to choose financially rewarding projects to back – was turning his attentions away from film to a co-written musical that was a pet project for him. When Carmen had informed Cassie that the title of his planned production was Redemption, the reason for him seeking her out suddenly became crystal clear. She'd snorted in disbelief only for Carmen to point out that the number of fallen-from-grace performers eligible under the need for redemption of some kind would be enough to run the play simultaneously in ten cities around the country and that him seeking her out must mean something. Cassie had dismissed the idea with a 'yeah right' that only served to irritate Carmen further. The conversation was then suddenly all about Carmen and how she had wrestled with her conscience trying to decide what was the best thing to do, how awkward being the middle person had made her feel and how she thought Cassie was ready, indeed had been ready for years, for this second chance. Cassie had just remained silent. If Carmen couldn't see the Pandora's box of emotions she was forcing Cassie to open just by mentioning this offer then it wasn't her job to enlighten her. She hated the way excitement was making her heart beat erratically and her mind was already racing with ideas for an audition song. Performance whore, she scolded herself. Impressing wide-eyed freshmen was a whole different ball game to being good enough for the stage and she didn't need the reminder of just how much she failed to come up to scratch. She'd managed to thank Carmen for making her aware of the offer and had even managed to accept the proffered business card without a hint of a tremor in her hand.
"At least think about it," Carmen had pleaded as she recognised Cassie withdrawing into herself, her features perceptibly hardening. Cassie had managed a tight smile back; she knew she'd be unable to do anything else.
Cassie tapped the expensively sturdy business card on her desk.
A sounding out meeting couldn't hurt - could it? She was deceiving herself, it shouldn't but it would. She had fallen such a long way, so quickly and so painfully that she had for years ruthlessly crushed this need to redeem herself. Cassie had worked hard at convincing herself performing on a stage wasn't really what she'd wanted for her whole life and yet a few words from Carmen and that ambition was back with a vengeance. It was hardly as if she'd be able to resist the lure of an audition no matter how ill-advised the plot, how small the part or even how unsuitable the role was for her. Just the chance of being back on stage would be enough of a temptation for personal standards and morals to be thrown aside. It would be the opportunity to put right what had gone so terribly wrong and prove to the world how badly she'd been misjudged - how could she resist that? To metaphorically raise her middle finger and shout "look at how talented I am and how wrong you were."
She tapped the tastefully embossed card a few more times and then began to rotate it between her finger and thumb between taps.
It was just a sounding out meeting, she wouldn't be committing herself to anything, and indeed she could withdraw at that point. Cassie sighed, she knew herself too well. Go to a sounding out meeting and she'd be picturing her name in lights from the first insincere statement about the role being written for her. In fact she wouldn't need any soft soap at all such was her longing for another chance. 'You're looking for a short brunette? Give me enough time to dye my hair and have shortening surgery on my legs' kind of longing. It was impossible to keep her racing thoughts in check; she was being offered a sounding out meeting and yet in her head was accepting a fucking Tony for the role after having gained worldwide acclaim for a uniquely moving interpretation of a difficult role. She'd been prepared to tip tomatoes over herself wearing a slip when auditioning for Ivan for fuck's sake and that was before she was quite this desperate for just a chance. How far she was prepared to prostitute herself for just a shot on Broadway worried even her, never mind trying to keep her expectations realistic. It didn't take much to see disaster, doom and heartbreak written all over this offer.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
And even If she did go, if she did audition if she did get the part and if she and Rachel were still together (this last point was the one that worried her most) then - it was a massive stack of ifs already - then her life would come under intense examination by the hostile elements of media who had so successfully and gleefully torn her apart before. You didn't choose a cast who had crashed and burned, with various degrees of spectacular, for a production called Redemption without expecting to exploit those histories to maximum effect. Would their relationship be able to withstand the scrutiny? Would she? That infamous YouTube clip would be back to haunt her - not that it had ever really gone away, thank you Internet. Was she really strong enough to face all that given she'd only just about survived last time? Her thoughts kept circling back to Rachel. Would Rachel be tarnished before she'd even had a chance at anything?
The images of a tearful Rachel conjured up by her memory were enough to distract her from tapping. With an effort she pushed those thoughts away.
On the other hand, if success looked quite so daunting there was the even bleaker prospect of failure or rejection at any point. What if after the initial meeting she wasn't invited to audition? Just how much more battering could her ego take? Worse, would she be able to handle it if she auditioned but didn't get the part? It was almost too painful to contemplate. Her dreams had been crushed and stomped on before, she knew from bitter experience how much it hurt, could she really go through that again? Would it be another spiral down into depression and self-loathing? Would her coping strategy come straight out of a bottle again? What would the effect be on her and Rachel, their tentative relationship was possibly the best thing that had happened to her in years - no, not possibly, make that definitely - could it survive the appearance of the bitter cynical depressive person she would become if rejected at any stage?
Rachel. Rachel. Rachel.
Cassie tapped the business card on her desk surface a few more times. The risks of success or even failure were just too great, too severe and too far-reaching, not just to her personally but also to her fledgling relationship. It was a no-brainer; she didn't need to discuss it with anyone.
Cassie put on her jacket and headed for the door. Turning off the light, she dropped the card into her recycling bin. It really was time to move on.
Rachel was beginning to regret her remark about not wanting to be a third wheel to Kurt and Stefan's coupledom. Kurt's new life ambition seemed to be ensuring that Rachel never had a moment to herself to consider her gooseberry-like status and she was already feeling smothered and trapped. She knew she wouldn't be able to extricate herself from an appearance at Callbacks that Friday night but Kurt's determined attentiveness meant she hadn't even been able to sneak away after humiliating herself with a Bee Gees classic. She'd even had to sneak into the ladies in order to be able to phone Cassie and even though they'd agreed earlier that they wouldn't be able to meet up later she was still miffed about it. Having to creep away to make a clandestine phone call made the whole relationship seem sleazy and awkward although such feelings disappeared the moment she heard Cassie's pleased purring of her name. Once Callbacks had finished Kurt had insisted on a hot chocolate nightcap that then morphed into a long conversation about the nature of love and relationships. His well meaning but misguided reassurances about a love being closer than she thought had her torn between wanting to laugh and say no, it was closer than he thought and yelling her exasperation that there was absolutely nothing going on between her and Quinn. Instead she kept her counsel, the arrival of another bouquet of flowers that afternoon had only seemed to spur Kurt on in his quest to extract information from her. Stefan had long since retired to bed by the time Kurt finally gave up in the face of her determined obliviousness. She just managed to text Cassie a message before falling into, frustrated and somewhat annoyed sleep.
If a Friday evening micromanaged by Kurt had seemed torturous, it paled into insignificance in comparison to Kurt's Saturday plans to ensure she was included in absolutely everything. Her early morning workout was the only time she actually got to herself. The day started well with a 'morning gorgeous' text from Cassie but once Kurt emerged bleary eyed and practically mute from his bed any alone time instantly evaporated. A leisurely breakfast with a note by note analysis of their Bee Gee tribute followed - usually this would be Rachel's idea of a good time but she was distracted by thoughts of what she could be doing with Cassie if only Kurt would stop trying to be quite so inclusive. When as an after thought as breakfast finally dragged to a close he'd asked her if she had plans that day to do anything or meet anyone, she'd made up some plans to go shopping. She quickly realised the error of her ways as Stefan and Kurt both enthusiastically welcomed the idea. She'd managed to stutter something about wanting to buy some lingerie and that it was a personal private solo activity in her book. She nearly cracked under the pressure of Kurt and Stefan's palpable disappointment until she reminded herself that she had no intention of purchasing underwear and it was all in fact a ruse in order to be able to spend some precious alone time with Cassie. So while the boys were bickering over a shopping list for a light lunch and an evening meal at Stefan's - that she was the guest of honour at - Rachel managed a sneaked phone conversation in the bathroom with Cassie. Plans for a visit to a museum were pushed aside instead they settled for meeting up for a coffee. These arrangements then adapted to Cassie buying some lingerie on Rachel's behalf after Kurt and Stefan decided it would be best for her to head directly from her 'essential shopping trip for the essentials' to Stefan's. Rachel was beginning to wonder how anyone ever managed to lead a double life; Kurt was already expressing concern about her far too frequent trips to the bathroom.
The irony of being quite so pleased to escape the 'food, film and friends day' that Kurt had organised and that Rachel had long fantasised about wasn't lost on her. At least a coffee with Cassie was a different kind of tense to that of fear of saying or doing something wrong. They'd sat opposite each other, uncertain about rules around touching each other in public and so settling for just gazing longingly at each other. When their hands briefly met as Cassie passed Rachel's lingerie excuse across the table it was as if suddenly the tension was broken. Cassie had explained that with no idea of preferred size, style or colour to guide her so she'd been obliged to go with what she thought would look good on Rachel. Cassie's mischievous expression along with her teasing words were enough for Rachel to light up like a beacon and hurriedly stuff the purchases in her bag without looking at them. As their fingers interlaced across the tabletop Rachel recovered sufficiently to bemoan Kurt's sudden overly attentive behaviour impacting detrimentally on the time they could spend together. Cassie could rest assured that Sunday would be different. Cassie had smiled indulgently, hoping Rachel was right but fearing she'd be spending her time watching yet more subtitled French police procedurals in a bid to stop thinking about either Rachel or that little rectangle of cardboard currently residing in her recycling bin at work.
In the end Rachel's reluctance to leave meant she was seriously at risk of only just making it to Stefan's apartment on time when she finally headed off. Given Rachel's long proud track record of never being anything less than half an hour early when meeting Kurt, she knew she was risking raising his suspicions. Yet she and Cassie had stood awkwardly in each other's orbit outside the cafe, neither able to make the first move to part. Rachel was quivering with the faint hope that Cassie would succumb to the temptation of kissing her in broad daylight and in public, no less, and Cassie was reluctant to let the only successful distraction to her long dormant Broadway dreams leave. Finally Cassie had pulled Rachel into a sudden tight hug even as she wrestled with the urge to lure Rachel back to her apartment. From the almost desperate way Rachel clung to her she obviously wouldn't have required much luring. Just a week, Cassie sternly told herself; besides, Rachel deserved her full undivided attention rather than her current slightly distracted self. She hardened her heart in the face of Rachel's coy 'come hither' look with added lip lick and blocked images of how Rachel might look in her Cassie-chosen lingerie from her mind. A long freezing cold shower had suddenly been added to her list of things to do.
By Sunday a resolute Rachel had shaken off all Kurt's suggestions of activities they could do together and persuaded him that while his thoughtfulness was greatly appreciated she was planning to have a quiet day in so he should venture out and enjoy some alone time with Stefan. It was all she could do to resist phoning Cassie the minute Kurt stepped out of the apartment. She managed to wait nearly five minutes, a feat of restraint worthy of public recognition. The dinner party at Stefan's had consisted of seven NYADA gay boys plus her and although that made for witty, occasionally bitchy banter, the downside was their preference for Lady Gaga music - which brought Cassie's skirt ripping performance to mind - and the gleeful increasingly outrageous speculation about all aspects of Ms July from appearance to personal life. Rachel could only assume the fact that Cassie's reputation - for a level of bitchness that made others' efforts seem pale and amateur in comparison - made her a prime target, simultaneously revered and envied. Rachel hadn't realised she'd gained quite such a widespread notoriety, or was it fame?, for her ability to provoke and stand-up to the in equal parts loathed and admired dance teacher. She'd listened to embellished dramatised tales of her stand-offs and dance-offs with Cassie and quickly realised, after her initial attempts to correct inaccuracies, that truth was willingly being sacrificed in favour of gossipy scandalised entertainment. The need for there to be a gap between Cassie's employment ending and any hint of an involvement between the pair of them had never been clearer. She was only now beginning to wonder with any seriousness about what impact the news of her relationship would have on others - more specifically, on Kurt. Her sympathy for him was short-lived. He was the one fixated about her being involved with Quinn and after him daring to peek in her very private shopping bag against her clearly expressed wishes, then making some remark about her preference for black lacy lingerie...well, that removed any obligation on her part to worry about his feelings.
The weather was ideal for a meander around Central Park with hats and dark glasses their only concession to not wanting to be noticed. Rachel's baseball cap pulled low over her eyes managed to knock years off her actual age and her excited bouncing from foot to foot only reinforced the idea of a young teen. Cassie managed to sidle up to her unnoticed and said, in an accent that travelled around the old Eastern bloc almost by the word, "Ze birdz in Prague fly backvards in zee springtime." Rachel spun round and looked at her aghast until Cassie had to assure her it was a reference to spy movies of the Cold War era and that she really hadn't been drinking. She couldn't believe Rachel had never heard of 'Tinker, tailor, soldier spy' only for Rachel to counter that unless a book was required reading for school or Broadway related, she'd have gone nowhere near it. Now If le Carre had shown a little more imagination in naming his book say 'Singer, dancer, actor, spy' then maybe she'd have glanced at it. Rachel's slightly outraged deadly serious delivery had Cassie momentarily stumped until a mischievous twinkle in Rachel's eye gave her away and they both burst into laughter. Rachel confessed she allowed everyone to think she was Barbra and Broadway fixated because she was but not, as most people chose to believe, to the exclusion of everything else. This reminded her of Cassie's claim to being a closet Barbra fan so they ambled around the Conservatory gardens testing obscure Barbra facts out on each other. The respectable distance between them gradually disappeared until Cassie's arm had found it's way around Rachel's shoulders and they were laughing at some outrageous completely fictitious gossip Cassie had made up about Barbra's diva antics on the set of Funny Girl.
They sat sprawled on the grass with a take out lunch, people-watching - or rather a variation on that theme. In the Cassie and Rachel version one would indicate a person and the other would come up with the matching ideal Broadway role, the more obscure the better. When Rachel pointed to herself Cassie earned a light slap for repeating her previously stated response of Maria von Trapp, Willy Loman or Shrek. Rachel's suggestion that Cassie was ideal for the role of Miss Trunchbull, Matron 'mama' Morton or maybe Daisy Werthan had Cassie snorting with mock outrage before her suddenly watery eyes had her looking resolutely away from Rachel. So much for moving on she scolded herself - she'd have snapped up any of those roles in a flash. Once her wayward emotions were under control she could once again catch the eye of an uncomfortable looking Rachel.
"I didn't mean.. I wasn't serious," stammered Rachel. Maybe she'd misjudged Cassie's sensitivity about their age difference? Cassie's thoughtful contemplation of her was increasing Rachel's nervousness.
Cassie sighed. Where, or even if, to start?
"Rachel, there's something I think I need to share with you," began Cassie as Rachel suddenly became wide-eyed and paled in front of her, "Just so you're in the loop. Total honesty and all that."
Cassie's attempt at reassuring words had only made Rachel look more alarmed. She placed a hand on Rachel's arm in what she hoped was a calming gesture. Rachel gazed at the hand and tried to control her racing thoughts about honesty always being the preface to intensely personal insulting 'truths' in her experience. She willed herself to stoicism.
"Mark 'Midas' Beaufort wants to talk to me about a new project of his," blurted Cassie in order to break the tension that had suddenly sprung up between them. There was a pause as Rachel allowed the unexpected words to seep into her brain and connections to be made.
"Redemption?" breathed Rachel in a hushed reverential tone.
"Well I'm not sure that could be achieved through just one conversation," quipped Cassie dryly. There was a moment's pause before Rachel's sudden burst of laughter had Cassie grinning at her affectionately.
"So?" prompted Rachel.
"Carmen thinks he might want to offer me a part," muttered Cassie her attention suddenly fixed on the middle distance. Rachel eyed her carefully; all that casual indifference suggested she was missing something. She waited for Cassie to continue but no further explanation was forthcoming
"That must be," started Rachel and Cassie braced herself for the over excited exuberance of youth only to be surprised by Rachel finishing the sentence with a thoughtful, "terrifying."
Cassie's gaze switched to meet Rachel's. Terrifying was the most apt description of how it felt.
"Terrifying?" Cassie repeated, hoping Rachel would continue.
"You know deep down you have this amazing ability – you know you do – but at auditions you're reliant on some stranger recognising all of that in the half a song or reading you're allowed to perform," mused Rachel, "Everything rides on it, so the fear of failure is almost paralysing." In her head Rachel was reliving that awful moment when the words for 'Don't rain on my parade' disappeared from her memory as all her hopes and dreams came to rest on that one crucial moment.
"I'm not going," stated Cassie. Dealing with disappointment or broken dreams was just not an option she wanted to countenance.
Rachel nodded with understanding. For all her bravado about auditions she really didn't know if that freezing was a one-off or if faced with a role she desperately wanted the same would happen. How much worse would it be to gain a coveted role and then have it snatched away by a moment of madness? Probably a good idea if she wasn't the one to bring that up.
"After I froze during my audition with Ms Tibideaux and the future I'd planned from when I first learnt to say Broadway was over at the first hurdle, I thought the only role left for me was that of a Lima housewife," said Rachel quietly.
Cassie bit back the urge to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea.
"Well I don't want to cast aspersions on your acting abilities but Lima housewife definitely isn't a role I can see you in," said Cassie gently.
"To be fair the plot was uninspiring and predictable; the intended co-star and I shared no chemistry and yet… and yet it felt so much safer than any alternative." Rachel's accompanying smile was didn't reach her eyes, "I'm not sure I could survive feeling like that again."
"Oh don't worry Rachel I'm living proof that public humiliation to a far bigger audience doesn't kill you," replied Cassie uncertain whether she'd managed to keep the bitterness from seeping into her voice, "and I have absolutely no intention whatsoever of opening myself up to that possibility again."
When she reflected back on the conversation Cassie recognised that that statement should have been the end of the matter. Instead Rachel had shared her fears about future auditions and Cassie had been reassuring, supportive and offered advice about never giving up. Somehow that had morphed into her relating her experiences around her disastrous somewhat brief Broadway appearance – she'd never really shared it all before - and her explaining why that was so different to Rachel's case. Rachel's sympathetic yet adamant support of only Cassie being able to make the call as only she could know what was right for her, had Cassie spilling more about her fears of that Youtube video resurfacing and what adverse effect that might have on their relationship. Rachel validated her concerns at every opportunity although her rephrasing of Cassie's concerns often made them appear slightly ridiculous, she was convinced at the time that it was an unintentional consequence of all that Rachel earnestness. So quite how the conversation went from Rachel being totally supportive of Cassie's no-truck-with-Broadway stance to Cassie deciding that actually she'd contact Mark 'Midas' Beaufort thankyouverymuch – again with Rachel's full support – Cassie didn't really know. She wasn't sure whether she'd been played by Rachel and didn't really care until Monday morning found her scrabbling around elbow deep in her recycling bin and cursing under her breath.
Cassie's last week was flying past and Rachel's stress levels were steadily rising. Kurt was proving hard to shake as he insisted on practically accompanying her everywhere after her late return on Sunday night. She also had the performance of a lifetime to prepare for. As circumstances contrived to keep her and Cassie apart, bar their lessons, the performance at Cassie's leaving party was gaining greater significance in her mind. Somehow long conversations into the night, although enjoyable and reassuring, weren't really doing anything for her permanently turned on state. Rachel was determined to at least have tasted Cassie's talented lips by the end of that evening – that was her minimum expectation – and in her more optimistic moments she was expecting to be in Cassie's bed in Soho relieving all this pent up sexual frustration, repeatedly and frequently. She had a five-minute slot to convey that need through song, to show how ready she was to be seduced or do the seducing. To that end she'd splashed out on a sparkly clingy black dress – Kurt had finally proved useful - booked herself in for a full body makeover, had Cassie approved lingerie to wear– thanks again kurt- and found the song she thought would make her irresistible. Now she just needed to overcome all those Cassie protestations about 'needing to be patient and wait a little longer', along with her stubborn determinedness. Friday evening couldn't arrive soon enough.
Cassie was pleased when Paul accepted her rather late invite to her leaving do. She expected it all to be a bit of a damp squib, bar Rachel's performance of course but even she wouldn't be able to bring life to a half empty hall. She'd invited Paul as her chaperone – the very idea made her laugh at herself – but she didn't trust herself to be anywhere near Rachel. They'd only managed to meet in lessons and she'd had to start keeping a physical distance away as the urge to just touch Rachel in a decidedly unteacherly way became harder to resist. Fortunately the initial meeting with Mark had kept her partially distracted, as brief and broad as it had been. They had a tentative meeting pencilled in for the following week but the general chitchat of their first conversation had reminded Cassie about the gossipy nature of the entertainment business. It served as a salutary wake up call, if one was needed, that a clean break between her employment ending at NYADA and 'starting' a relationship with Rachel was needed. Perhaps Paul could stay for a couple of months?
Kurt could think of better uses of his time other than waiting to meet Quinn at Grand Central Station but he'd invited her so she was his responsibility – for the moment at least. Kurt smiled to himself. Both Quinn and Rachel were going to be forever in his debt once he pulled this off. He'd managed to persuade Rachel to invest in a new dress for no reason other than her 'being worth it'. Now Quinn was on a train hurtling towards New York and the worst kept 'secret relationship' would finally be unveiled. He could hardly wait.
Quinn sat on the train wringing her hands. She'd missed her planned train just because she was so nervous she needed to visit the bathroom with far greater frequency than normal. It was make or break time with all signs pointing to make. She was finally going to share with Rachel how she felt about her. Quinn hadn't really decided on what she'd say, everything just sounded awkward in her head, and anyway there was no rush – she had the whole weekend. Kurt's unsubtle hints had led her to believe that maybe Rachel felt the same way too. Quinn's heart raced at just the thought of that. She knew she didn't really deserve to be forgiven for the appalling way she'd treated Rachel during their school years even if with hindsight she could now discern her misguided motivations. Quinn pushed the thoughts away. Last night she had skype'd a bright-eyed, excited Rachel who chatted enthusiastically about her upcoming performance – it was going to be her best one ever. Quinn just kept replaying in her head that part where Rachel had met her eyes on screen and said "it's a shame you won't be here to see it." It was all she could do to stop blurting out about her surprise visit. Just a little longer now. Quinn stilled her hands and smiled. Rachel was going to be so pleased to see her.