(Rachel)

"Good morning." It was dry and grumpy good morning.

"Did you talk?" I tried to make a better intonation.

"But certainly. How are you doing?" Santana continued her laconic tone.

"Very well, thank you. How are you?" I tried to gesture and not get caught up in my sister's lack of cooperation.

"I don't feel well at all, and it's no fun spending a bunch of days shooing away a bunch of weeds from my body or the crows that want lunch from my head. Oh, how stupid and unhappy I am!"

"Santana!" I was shocked by her attitude. That was a script from a classic, please!

"What?" She looked at me cynically.

"That is not the line!" How difficult it was to get her to read a simple line correctly.

"Well, that's called improvisation."

"You are libelously improvising in one of the most important musicals in Hollywood's history."

"Ray, I'm not into this play, I don't think it's a big deal and I've already saying these lines a thousand times with you!" She yelled at me. "Gimme a break!"

"You don't understand! This is my first protagonist. She is a literary icon, and I need to give a memorable performance."

"Ray, you will be Dorothy in a series of four performances by the youth group of the Lima community theater with a maximum capacity of 300 people. No one important will show up and all those losers who spend $10 will do is hope you get out of tune in Somewhere Over The Rainbow. That way, they'll have something to talk about over the summer!" She said in such a cynical tone that it made my blood boil. "I've already gone over these lines with you a zillion times. I memorized the speech of all the characters, including yours. This script is stupid. It's nothing more than a cheap, abridged copy of the movie itself!"

I stared at Santana in bewilderment. How could she be so cruel? I've spent the last month rehearsing this play twice a week and practicing the songs at home until I'm exhausted. Did she not understand that this was my first big chance to shine? This play was going to be on my resume. When my biographers researched my career, they would cite the stage at Theater Reiner, in Lima, as the first to witness the talent of the great Rachel Berry-Lopez.

"You don't understand... I need to reach perfection."

"The opening night of this thing is today. Either you are ready or you are not!" Santana threw the script on top of my bed. "And then half of the seats will be filled by our family and the other half by the other actors' families. In other words: your performance may be shit, but everyone will applaud at the end."

I wanted to grab the first object I could reach and throw it at my sister's head. But if I did, Santana would retaliate by strangling me. Goodbye voice and possibly goodbye Rachel. It was better to let Santana leave in peace feeling like she won something. The worst thing is that, deep down, my sister was partly right. The text wasn't that good, our production was cheap, and the theater itself is not that good or impressive. Still, the conditions didn't matter and that wasn't justification for being less than perfect. I decided that if my sister wasn't going to help, then she would practice alone. I regained my composure and continued.

"Can't you come down?" I paused, pretending the scarecrow answered. "My name is Dorothy and I'm on my way to the Emerald City. I'll ask the Great Oz to show me the way back to Kansas." Another pause. "Don't tell me you don't know!" One more break. "Oh, I'm sorry."

My attention was diverted by Dad, who walked past my door and chuckled. I know it wasn't his intention to distract me. Even I had to admit to myself that rehearsing alone like that was pathetic. I got discouraged and sat down in my armchair letting the whole weight of my body fall onto it.

"Why did you stop? It was going well." Dad came into my room and sat on my bed, facing me.

"It's just that... Santana is right: what's the point of rehearsing now? Either I'm ready or I'm not."

"True!" He looked at me seriously. "On the other hand, if you weren't trying to perfect yourself until the last second, you wouldn't be my Rachel."

"Daddy... what if I fail? What if I forget the lyrics to Somewhere Over the Rainbow?"

"I will love you just the same."

"I'm serious!"

"Who says I'm not serious? Or that I'm making light of it?" He got up from my bed and took two steps towards me to kiss me on the forehead. I closed my eyes. "Rachel, no matter what happens on that stage today, your father and I are going to be the proudest of that theater. And do you know why?" I shook my head in the negative. "Because whatever happens, we'll know you did your best. That you've worked hard. You are wonderful, Rachel. Always remember this."

"Thanks." I gave a weak, uncertain smile.

"I'll leave you alone, but when you feel like it, Clara has left a special snack for you to enjoy before we go to the theater."

Dad gave me another kiss on the head before leaving the room. I looked at the script one more time and decided it was best to put aside my fears of forgetting lines or choke. It would be better to check out the snacks that Clara made. There was a bouquet of flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. Next to it, a plate of baked vegan cookies, a pitcher of strawberry juice and a veggie burger with lettuce, tomato, corn and ketchup. It was my favorite.

"How horrible!" Santana came up behind me. She was in a bikini with a towel over her shoulder. Her distaste for vegan food didn't stop her from stealing one of my cookies and stuffing it all in her mouth before running out into the backyard and jumping in the pool.

I tried the hamburger even though I wasn't hungry. I forced myself to eat out of pure consideration for Clara's work. She learned how to cook vegan food because of me and Dad, who was vegetarian. Clara and Prudence were our cleaners and, in a way, our nannies. They came to work once a week, each on a different day. Prudence was very strict and only did what was agreed, but Clara didn't mind venturing into the kitchen if she had time. We also had Elton that visit us once a month to give our yard a general overhaul and make minor repairs as needed. And then there was Tommy, who cleaned the pool every 15 days. Sometimes he brought in Noah Puckerman to help him.

The premiere left me a nervous wreck. I finished the hamburger and went back upstairs, this time to get ready. I chose a pink dress and a red overcoat. I put on my three quarter socks and black shoes. I combed my hair carefully and didn't worry about makeup. Unlike Santana, I didn't like to use much makeup. I would have to make one for the play anyway, so why bother?

I sat in the armchair and closed my eyes until Dad called me. It was time. He would take me to the theater two hours before the opening. It was all the time it took for the entire cast to get together, get ready, and focus. I was aware that Papi, Santana and other guests, such as Abuela, Aunt Maria, Uncle Pedro and my cousins, Clara and Prudence, would only arrive at the correct time for the play. Then we would all go to Breadstixs to celebrate. I tried not to think about them. I needed to focus on the play and the play alone.

We didn't have an exclusive dressing room. I got ready next to Dolores, who was going to play Glinda. Sometimes I thought that the director only let me play Dorothy because Dolores, his favorite, couldn't sing. Unfortunately for her, I was far superior in voice and singing techniques. So I tried hard to erase that kind of thinking. I was Dorothy and I earned it. I put on my costume and Lucy helped me with my makeup. I warmed up my voice and tried to relax. The director knocked on our door and said "break your leg" to everyone. The lights flickered. I closed my eyes. It's time. Rachel Berry-Lopez would make her first iconic lead at age 13 in "The Wizard of Oz," produced by the Community Theater Company of Lima, Ohio, onstage at the Reiner Theater. The curtains went up. I heard the applause. I was nervous to the point of throwing up, but I had to bring this lion down. What a feeling! I was born for it.

...

(Quinn)

"But I don't see any fun in theater plays. Even more community theater!" I raged.

"Please, Quinn, on behalf of our friendship."

Friendship? My "friendship" with Amy boiled down to casual and polite conversations in the hallways at school, because our parents were close and expected us to be friends too.

"Besides, my dad lets me hang out with you."

Translation: he would allow his daughter to go out at night if accompanied by Russell Fabray's daughter. For Lima society, the Fabray family cultivated a reputation so impeccable that it was above suspicion.

Amy was in love with Taylor Mitchell, an older boy who was already in high school. He was one of those guys who had a rock band and enjoyed being involved in all things artistic expression: even amateur theater. He was part of the community company filled with Liberal Democrats, hippies and libertines, as my parents would say. I just thought the amateur theater group was a bunch of idealistic losers who used the place to smoke weed without being bothered by the police.

Of course, my parents didn't disown the theater. They supported, for example, the church's youth group, which made both biblical plays and adaptations of some literary classics and performed once a month in the auditorium of our Christian community. I didn't think they were any good and the plays were boring. Then there was Mercedes Jones, the dentist's daughter, who made a point of singing every note of "Amazing Grace." She sang well, but I was tired of seeing the same performance.

My father would never allow me to go in there at seven o'clock at night in the company of a girl who just turned 14. Unless this was the daughter of the owner of the biggest shopping center in Lima: a client that my father did everything to preserve. Amy's parents, in turn, would never let her go alone to see a musical play at an amateur theater downtown. That's where I came in. If a well-behaved girl from a good family was there with Amy, it was a sign that the daughter would not get into trouble due to her good influence.

"I pay!" Amy was getting desperate.

"What?" I was outraged. No, I still couldn't do Frannie who didn't mind getting money for a few favors for her friends.

"I pay you to cover for me."

"I don't know what you must think of me, Amy, but money is not something I need. I wouldn't sell out like that." I had my pride.

"Okay, sorry!" She could hear her sigh over the phone. "My mistake." She said in a lower tone. "Quinn, I really like Taylor and I promised him I would go to the theater. Go with me, I'll owe you a favor. You can charge me later whenever you want. You have my word."

Amy looked desperate and I started to feel sorry for her.

"Okay. I'm going to the theater with you and you're going to owe me this favor. One day, when I need it, I will charge you."

"Fair enough. Can we stop by your place at six?"

"All right. You can ask your mother to ask my mother."

I talked to my parents and after a few calls between our mothers to confirm the story, it was agreed that Amy's mother would take us and pick us up from the theater. My dad was particularly happy that I was committed to people worth being around. He didn't even mind that I went somewhere he would naturally disapprove. From his point of view, it was as if I had finally started to follow in my sister's footsteps. Frannie not only built a social circle of winners; she also dominated it. She was the current captain of McKinley High's cheerleading squad and the school's queen bee. My dad couldn't be prouder.

I had a quick snack before getting ready. Once I was within my weight range and hit the gym three times a week, my meals weren't as regimented anymore. I enjoyed a sliced bread sandwich with ham and white cheese. To drink: orange juice. Then I put on a blue dress and chose a white line coat to go with it. I combed my hair and put on light makeup. I only put my shoes on when I heard the car horn at the scheduled time. My parents made a point of walking me out to the car and saying hello to Amy's mother. I got into the backseat of the comfortable BMW and smiled politely. A few compliments and recommendations later, we took the path towards downtown.

"Girls, I'll be waiting here at the door at half past eight. But if the play ends early, call me" Amy doesn't care much for her mother's warnings, but I made a point of nodding and repeating the information as assurance I understood every word.

Per the show, the play was only an hour long, which meant that Amy would have at least half an hour to date the stage actor. Turns out we arrived early. We were the first to buy a ticket and get in. I walked over to the armchair as she headed backstage. My biggest distraction was watching how the small theater filled up little by little. It was a simple environment and not as flea-infested as he thought. There was a certain dignity there. I looked at my program: nothing more than an A4 sheet printed on both sides. One side had a photo of the cast of the play and the other the names of the actors, the acts and the songs. I was surprised to see Rachel Berry-Lopez as Dorothy. She was into being a singer, but I didn't know she was also part of that theater's company. Another surprising thing was knowing that the play would be staged by the youth's group. I didn't even know that the community theater staff had a special program for kids and teenagers.

Ten minutes before the play started, every seat was taken. It was at this point that Amy appeared again without lipstick and smiling like an idiot because she got made out by that rock star pretending to be an actor. The lights flickered and went out. The curtains opened and people applauded. Rachel Berry-Lopez appeared alongside other teen actors amidst a modest production. Her acting didn't impress me. Neither her nor the performance of the other kids. The text wasn't good either. You could see that there was more good will than actual talent. But one thing blew my mind: Rachel Berry-Lopez singing "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard and been lucky enough to witness. She crossed her fingers in front of her body imitating Judy Garland's movements and released her voice, delicate and powerful at the same time.

"Somewhere over the rainbow/ Way up high/ And the dreams that you dream of/ once in a lullaby/ Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly/ and the dreams that you dream of/ Dreams really do come true."

I had no knowledge of anyone important who had left Lima, nor did I know if there was someone with the potential to do so, to become an illustrious famous American citizen to the point of winning those honors in the city hall. Well, my father won an honorary mention at the city hall once, but he is not a famous person outside of Lima or has a talent for the arts: he was honored because he sponsors a benefit party every year to raise money for an institution in Cincinnatti, helping war veterans. And also because my dad is a good politician, even if he's not officially involved in it.

I don't know what Rachel had planned for her own future, but even I could tell that girl had more talent than the rest of the cast. I didn't go to greet the cast at the end of the show. Rachel was the daughter of men my father didn't approve of. Friendship with her was forbidden. So I thought it best to stay quiet in a corner of the theater and wait for Amy to return from backstage with the tin man pressed to her lips. She looked happy. They both were. Maybe this dating thing was really good, but why couldn't I be attracted to any boy?

"Hey Taylor. Congratulations!" I forced a smile.

"Thank you..."

"Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

"Okay, Quinn. Thanks."

He gave Amy another kiss, one of those kisses with the tongue, and I was embarrassed to be right there next to them. Not even looking at the floor, the ceiling and my fingernails took away the embarrassment. Until they finally came apart and I was able to pull Amy out of the theater. Her mother was already waiting for us.

"Girls, would you like to stop by somewhere to eat? Maybe at Breadstixs?"

"Could it be." Amy responded nonchalantly.

"I do not object, Mrs. Capra." I said more thoughtfully.

"Excellent!"

Breadstixs was Lima's decent cheap good type restaurant. We went there as an alternative to fast food chains. If you wanted to impress, then you had to go to Metropolis, for expensive and good food. It was where my father had meals with clients and Ohio bigwigs. But that wasn't the case with Breadstixs, which had a much more casual audience.

When we arrived, I wasn't surprised to find some people who were in the theater, like my high school monitor, Mrs. Greenberg, and the boy who played Oz. But I was curious to see that the Berry-Lopez's family was there occupying several tables. I saw Rachel with her sister, Brittany Pierce, her two parents and other people I had never seen before. Almost all of them were Latin and they were speaking Spanish. I found it very curious, because they were happy and weren't afraid to show it to the world. It was all very different from what happened in my family, which was formal even during leisure time. Rachel was the center of attention, and even Santana, who was always so grumpy at school, looked like she was having the time of her life. I spent more time looking at that family than I did paying attention to what Amy and her mother were talking about.

Back home, I said goodnight to my parents and gave a brief report on my night at the theater. Rachel's voice couldn't get out of my head and that made me curious. I turned on my computer and googled her name. To my surprise, a MySpace page appeared among the few results. There were two tracks posted: the first with three plays and the second with five plays. Rachel wasn't popular, I could see. I clicked on the song "On My Own". It was an a cappella track on a bad, home recording. I don't know why she did it, but I kind of liked it. I think I've become a fan of Rachel Berry-Lopez's voice... only nobody can know!