Three years later
"It's a pomegranate," she says, holding the red fruit in her hand and handing it to Blaine. "You crack them open and eat the seeds inside. Haven't you ever had a pomegranate before?"
Blaine looks at her with a smile takes the fruit in his hands. "I have, just never… in its raw form before." He sets it down in the basket with the rest of the produce and they continue to walk through the narrow aisles of the market; people standing in every corner and deciding to stop in the middle of aisles like it's a personal hobby for them.
Rachel giggles and adjusts her sunglasses on her face, feeling Blaine trail behind her. She doesn't normally wear sunglasses; she feels like they swallow her face and somehow make her face look rounder, but it's gotten to the point where she feels like she needs to wear them now.
It's not like she's Kanye West, but she's not little Rachel Weisberg from Ohio anymore. At least she isn't in New York, anyway. The past three years have changed her.
"Are you nervous for tonight?" Blaine asks, looking at her as she looks down at the cart of oranges in front of them. "I mean, there's the performance alone, and then there's-"
"I'm fine," she says, her heart not trying to escape her chest like it normally does. "I know that they say it's bad if you don't get nervous before performances, but I don't get nervous anymore," she says, turning around to look at him. "I just get excited."
Blaine laughs and follows behind Rachel with a smile stuck to his face. "Of course," he says, rolling his eyes slightly. "You would be the only one who doesn't get nervous about performances."
Rachel turns around over her shoulder and shoots Blaine a smile. "Oh, stop," she says, finding his hand that isn't holding the basket full of fruit and taking it in her own. "Come on," she tells him, pulling him along through the aisles and groups of people with their backs turned to them. "We'll be late for rehearsal."
:.:.:
Kurt looks at her as she stands in front of her bathroom mirror, playing with his cufflinks nervously. "Will you hurry up?" He asks, beginning to pace around her bedroom nervously. "I don't want to be the type to show up late to something like this, Rachel. You, of all people, should feel the same way."
She doesn't laugh at him as she studies her reflection in the mirror, trying to make sure that her face looks like it's been ripped out of a magazine instead of the way it looked that morning.
"We're not going to be late," she says, paying more attention to her hair than whatever it is that Kurt's saying. "Blaine might make you late, but I assure you, I won't end up being late."
She can hear Kurt laugh at her from the other room and she ignores it, rolling her eyes as she looks into the mirror. Rachel's never cared about anything Kurt's said, or at least not truly taken the sarcastic things he says to heart. She normally just lets him say whatever it is he wants to say and forgets about it.
"I thought you and Blaine were supposed to show up together?" He pokes his head through the bathroom door as Rachel pushes her earrings in. "You know, to keep the myth that you two are dating still alive?"
Rachel laughs to herself and steps out of the bathroom, the skirts of her dress trailing behind her on the ground. "I don't think that's as widely speculated as you think it is," she tells him, a smile stuck to her face. "It's not like Blaine and I are famous, anyway. Besides, I wouldn't want to deny you the right of walking down a red carpet with your boyfriend."
She turns over her shoulder and watches as Kurt smiles to himself, looking like he's trying to hide his happiness from her. Rachel already knows how happy he and Blaine are together, and she would never want to step between them. Watching the two of them together makes her happier than anything else in the entire world, and she feels proud to know that it was partly her doing that brought them together.
Kurt looks at Rachel as she slips into her shoes and she smiles, pushing the tendrils she's pulled from her messy bun a few moments ago out of her eyes so that they fringe her face. "I was telling you, Rachel, purple really is your color." He crosses his arms over his chest and steps back to look at her like he's just completed some masterpiece.
"Thank you," she says, smiling brightly as she spins around in her dress, the long, flowing skirt kicking up around her feet. She touches the necklace that falls down the low neckline of her dress, looking back up at Kurt with a smile. "I like it."
"Good," he tells her, walking towards her and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Because you look beautiful."
Rachel feels the blood rush to her cheeks and Kurt wraps her in an embrace, making her rest her chin on his shoulder.
"You know, Rach, he would be so proud of you," Kurt says, his voice quiet. Rachel feels her mouth go dry and she pulls away from Kurt, shaking her head.
"Don't," she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. She doesn't want to go there; not yet, anyway. "Let's just… let's do this for him, alright?" She feels herself begin to tear up and she laughs, wiping underneath her eyes carefully.
Kurt smiles and lets go of her hand, walking towards the doorway.
"Come on," he says, Rachel trailing after him through the door, both of them laughing. "We don't want you to mess up your makeup or anything."
Rachel giggles and the two head into the hall of her apartment, walking side by side until they make it out the door.
It's the first time Rachel's ever really been able to walk next to someone down the hallway of an apartment she occupies.
:.:.:
She's been receiving compliments on her dress all night. Every time someone tells her that she looks beautiful, or that the shade of purple compliments her skin perfectly, or that her shoes are to die for, she just smiles and tells them that's it's all Kurt's doing. It makes her happy and proud of him, in a way. He deserves just as much happiness as she does, or Blaine, or anyone else, for that matter.
There's something so special about doing what she's doing; walking down a red carpet and having people take her picture and ask her who she's wearing and asking whether or not she's nervous for the evening ahead of her. For some reason, she's able to stand there, proud and tall (or at least as tall as she can be in five inch heels) and answer all of the questions the reporters have for her, smiling and happy.
Despite all of the excitement of the night, however, she doesn't have a speech prepared. It's her first time getting nominated for one of these, and she's up against all of these people who line their fireplace mantles with Tony Awards. She highly doubts that she's going to win.
:.:.:
When they announce her name the first time, she looks at Kurt, who's sitting next to her while she takes up the aisle seat. The producers have instructed her on where to sit; they put all of the award nominees in the aisle seats so the cameras can get better shots of them and so she doesn't have to worry about tripping over someone's feet if, by the off chance, she actually wins.
Kurt turns to look at her and squeezes her hand, Blaine looking at her with a smile.
She's already had the discussion with Kurt if she wins. She's supposed to thank everyone, even the people she doesn't remember meeting, because it'll make her look like she's a good person or something like that. They never really went over it in great detail, mainly because Rachel kept on telling Kurt that she stood no chance at winning.
However, the moment she stops thinking about how nervous she is that she's even nominated for anything, the person presenting the award up on stage reads her name off of the card that she's been holding in her hands since she's walked on stage.
Rachel doesn't breathe; she just sits there, stunned into silence. It takes Kurt squeezing her hand and telling her to get up to pull her out of her chair and down the aisle, trying to keep herself from crying as she walks down to the stairs of the stage and up the stairs, hoping that she doesn't trip over the skirts of her dress as she climbs the stairs to accept her award.
The woman presenting the award accepts Rachel in an embrace before a tall, skinny woman that's younger than Rachel walks out and hands her the trophy that she accepts with shaking hands.
By the time she regains her composure and turns around in front of the podium, she can see the audience on their feet, applauding her for either the speech she hasn't given yet, or the great feat she's accomplished by winning this award.
Either way, she's in shock.
"Oh my God," she says, because it's all she can manage to get out. For the first time, Rachel doesn't know what to say. She's normally so well-versed and can speak circles around everyone – until she's put in a position where she has to speak in front of people like this. "Um, I don't know what to say," she says, hands shaking as she tries to hold her trophy up for the audience to see.
(She's been told by the producers that if she wins, she needs to hold the trophy up at chest level so that the TV camera can get a shot of it.)
The audience roars in laughter as she stammers, causing the other half of her vocabulary to go flying out the window.
"I, um, I don't know what to say," she says, feeling her heart want to beat out of her chest. "I know that everyone says that they're not expecting to win, but I really, really wasn't expecting to." The audience starts to laugh again and Rachel smiles, still trying to gain her footing on the stage. "I, um, I want to thank all of the producers, and the directors, and everyone else whose names I'm forgetting," she says, prompting the audience to start laughing again. It causes her to start laughing nervously, looking out into the audience for any sign of Kurt or Blaine or anyone else she knows. "I want to thank the people here tonight who chose to put their faith in a music teacher from Ohio with some long lost dream, because I wouldn't be standing here today without them," she says, holding the trophy up to her chest. "Blaine Anderson, the best co-star I could ever ask for, who's seen me at my very best and at my very worst, and Kurt, my very best friend, who moved out here with me three years ago and still hasn't left, no matter how many times he's threatened to do so."
She can see Kurt laughing from the audience; her empty seat visible from where she's standing.
"But this award isn't for me, it's for someone else," she says, feeling tears start to spring to her eyes. "Um, a few years ago, there was someone who came back into my life and showed me that it was alright to accept people despite their mistakes," she says, continuing to cry despite the fact that she's on national television. "We taught each other how to appreciate another." She takes a deep breath and sighs, wiping her eyes and trying not to smear her makeup. "And he's not here with us anymore, but this is for Finn," she says, seeing Kurt in the audience, crying along with her. "I wouldn't be here tonight without him. Thank you."
The music cue plays her off and she takes her leave off stage, not noticing the camera that follows her out or the women that flank her from either side.
She doesn't notice anything, to be completely honest. Not the music, not the audience, or the host that walks back out on stage the second she's done.
For the first time in three years, Rachel feels like there's closure between her and Finn and everything else in the world. No matter what, she knows that she'll be just fine. She may not always have the best of days every single day for the rest of her life, but no one does. Perfect or broken, no one does.
Besides, she's not broken anymore.
She's stitched up, and so is he.