(Rachel)

I did a duet with Cher. I, Rachel Berry-Lopez, sang along with Cher. We had a good scene. My character was Cher's eldest granddaughter and she was extremely carole and Christian. She didn't accept her grandmother's libertine behavior and reprimanded her. But it's just this granddaughter who inherits the supernatural talent of good as opposed to the younger children of the three witches who are the heirs of evil. I had three good scenes. One in which the granddaughter argues with her grandmother and tells her to act more like her age. The one where my character discovers that she also has powers, along with the other characters' grandchildren. And one last scene when they make up and the grandmother promises to help her granddaughter deal with her mystical heritage. There were other small scenes as well to make up the plot, but my major participation was limited to these moments. I didn't mind having a secondary plot. I was happy to be making my film debut alongside three actresses I admired very much.

I arrived at the set in Vancouver very upset, but I was soon enveloped in that vacation camp atmosphere. The crew had been together for two weeks and it was great to find everything already set up and organized. Michelle Pfeiffer was very professional and reserved. She chatted a lot with the main cast and director. I only had the chance to say a quick hello to her because she soon traveled back to the United States. Susan Sarandon was the most smiley and friendly. I told her that I played Janet Weiss in the amateur high school adaptation of Rock Horror Show. She loved it and wanted to know the details. Then she remembered some songs and we hummed them quickly. It was great.

I only acted with the three of them in one scene. It was at the end of the movie. Interestingly, that was the first scene I shot. Michelle Pfeiffer had to be absent. She stayed on the set for three days while I was there to shoot just that ending, and that was all the contact I had with her.

In the meantime, I talked to Cher a lot. We immediately identified because we are also musical actresses and, why not, divas. The first scene we did was making up. Director Steve Antin said he would leave the strongest scene for later because the more contact I had with her until then, the better. So I shot my first scene with her, several small ones together with the cast, one that I was reluctant to have any relationship with Susan Sarandon's character's new-hippie grandson (but in the end they end up holding hands and kissing). And then came the fight scene. We only rehearsed it once. When it was for real, I remembered all the times I'd fought with my family. It was something like that. When the director said action, I channeled my years of experience and we did a great scene. Two takes. Blanche Bennett, the casting director, was pleased with my performance.

"You're really good, little girl." Cher congratulated me while I was still feeling the echoes of the scene. "I heard you're good, but I confess I wasn't expecting such a solid performance."

"Thank you." I opened and closed my hands. "I just need a minute to get out of character."

"Don't get so involved."

"You know that. It's a problem that actors trained in theater have. You get into a character and then you have to go through a whole ritual to get out of it."

"Oh yes, I know the method. But I don't into it."

"No… I'm not a method actor, but I need to incorporate the character to do the scene."

The day was uneventful. Cinema is the art of waiting and repetition, much more so than television. In practice, a supporting character like mine works very little, is shot in fewer days, and it would be natural for half the scenes I shot over the days to be cut in the final edit. When the cast was dismissed and we returned to the hotel, Cher approached me at the hotel's bar.

"You gave a very good performance, Rachel. It's a pleasure to find good material in young actresses like you."

"Thank you! That means a lot to me."

"What were you thinking when you did that scene?" I didn't know what to say at the time. "Any real events? It's a good technique, but you can't rely on it entirely. There are times when it fails."

"When I studied at NYU, one of my professors said the same thing."

"Oh, did you graduate?"

"No. I dropped out after one semester. Either I did well in theater school or I did well in my Broadway play, as strange as that may sound."

We talked some more and before I knew it I was talking about things in my life and I was figuratively talking about my relationship with Quinn. I even changed the gender of my romantic interest because I remembered the words of my advisor and my agent about avoiding giving away any clues about my relationship. Cher was an experienced woman and it didn't take her long to decipher all my trivial and still juvenile metaphors.

"So you were going to marry this boyfriend." She said as she sipped an expensive water at the hotel bar. "Don't you think you're too young? What are you, 18?"

"Actually, I'm 20, but we've been living together for three years. Since the day I set my foot in New York. It seems like a natural progression within our relationship."

"Hmm."

"Don't judge me." I said a little annoyed.

"You know, Rachel, some people here at the studio say that my biography would be worthy of being a movie. I was an impulsive girl and you have traits of that. You defied your father at 17 to move to New York with your super-brainy sister, if I understood correctly, and your photographer boyfriend. Well, I dropped everything at 16 and went to Los Angeles with only my mother's blessing in my luggage. It was there that I met and married my first husband at the age of 18. He was much older than me... We were together for ten years, eight of which was official, and I had my first child at 21. Everything happened very early in my life, but girl, I lived it. Today I don't think there's any need to get married unless you really want to. I married my first husband, but not the guy I consider to be the great love of my life. The important thing is to love your man for who he is, and not for what he can give you. But I stress that experience is important. Relationships are important, at least for me. But I say that you have to think about yourself a bit. You have to slip up on your own sometimes."

"The problem is that I don't know if we're together anymore. We fight. Ugly." I tried to avoid details like: Quinn cheated on me with a woman whose name I can't even remember, but anyway, that's it. "I'm avoiding calling home. I basically only talk to my sister. My… boyfriend really hurt me."

"Fights are settled, baby. A matter of will."

"I think so."

"Or maybe you need to take some time for yourself."

"How can I when I'm swamped with work to do?"

"You don't necessarily have to travel for that."

"That's fine." I finished my glass of wine and grumbled.

"Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"Did you know that my son came out as gay when he was 17?"

"I didn't know..."

"Because of my son, I've gained a lot of experience in understanding certain signs, right? Some of his friends didn't fool me, there were even two or three who asked my advice."

"What?"

"You falter every time you say 'boyfriend' and switch genders a few times."

"Oh!" My face turned red with embarrassment.

"I understand these are guidelines from the agents and advisors." I just nodded with my face buried in my hands. "Hollywood is a bitch. But don't worry, baby, that's between us."

Our conversation went beyond the personal and naturally into music. Cher told me about the films she had made and how interesting it would be to keep in touch for future opportunities.

Cher also told me some valuable things based on her own experience. She has lived a life of intense love. She said that some were more important than others, but each had its share of value, for better or worse. Sometimes I thought about it and compared myself to Santana. My sister has had short and long experiences with some people. While all I did was kiss a few boys at school, and kiss a girl while on vacation in London. My sexual experience was all about Quinn. Wasn't I rushing into marriage with the person who had my v-card? I was too young to decide anything like that and insecurity was inevitable. The night before I left for New York, I made a list to put everything I was thinking and feeling in order.

Quinn:

- pros: I love her, she's a great lover, she's gorgeous, she cares about me, she makes me happy, she's hardworking, she knows how to make French toast, she smells good (or usually smells good), she's beautiful, she's related to the same background as me, she's intelligent, she's helpful to a certain extent, she doesn't smoke, my family accepts her, she likes to travel, she's reasonably sociable, we have a good dialog, she's good company, she doesn't mind watching musicals with me, she has a nice, sweet voice (although untrained and weak).

- Cons: very jealous, loses her temper when she's hot-headed, sexist, umber proud, domineering, bitchy, sometimes Machiavellian, republican, her culinary repertoire is very limited, sometimes she's indifferent, she eats pork even though she knows I'm Jewish and vegetarian, she has little empathy for other people, she may have a serious psychological problem, she cheated on me.

Questions:

- how can I be sure she's the love of my life if I've never been with anyone else?

- Do I want to experience life without Quinn around?

- Am I really too young to make such a serious commitment?

- What if I forgave her just so she could break my heart one more time?

And the hardest question of all?

- What did I really want?

I had insomnia.

When I got on the plane back to New York, I was determined to resolve my problems with Quinn and put our relationship back on track. First, I had to solve a series of unforeseen problems. My suitcase was lost. My documents and cell phone were in my handbag. But what really upset me was that the gifts I'd bought were inside the lost suitcase. How could the airline be so careless? I'm careful enough to put all the necessary identification, including the number of the flight it was supposed to board. This kind of incompetence made me, firstly, disappointed and, secondly, angry. The worst thing was that I was the unlucky one in the family. Of all the international trips I made, only my suitcases were lost. Once it happened on the way back from Chile and another time it happened on the way to the Caribbean. It was awful. In Caribben I spent two days wearing Santana's clothes until Dad gave up waiting for the airline to take action and we went out to buy new ones.

My home was in order. There were even fresh flowers. I liked it. And if it was so organized, it was a sign that Quinn had taken care of everything. She was really making an effort. I hugged my sister first. Santana seemed to be in good order: she looked healthy, she used crutches, I don't think she was that upset by the end of her relationship with Andrew, which doesn't surprise me. And then came Quinn. I took the initiative to give her a brief hug. I still felt awkward, shy, but the desire and chemistry were still there: it was impossible to deny.

"Did you manage to solve the problem of the loss?" Quinn looked anxious. Understandable, because I was too. We needed to talk.

"They say the suitcase will arrive here within 48 hours. Just wait. Well, I'm going to take a shower... and Quinn, could we talk later?"

I went into my very tidy room. Santana said that Quinn slept in the living room every night. I wasn't even that serious about her not being able to sleep in my bed, but I was happy and surprised that she respected that. I saw that the carpenter had come to fix the closet door. It looks better than before. I did my hygiene. When I put on casual clothes and returned to our living room, I found the table all set. Quinn was waiting for me to eat, and Santana wasn't around.

"Santana left." Quinn informed gracelessly.

"What? Why?" Silly question. My sister obviously found any excuse to leave that apartment to give us space. She really didn't like feeling confined to her room.

"She didn't say."

I stared at Quinn and all the questions appeared unanswered in my mind. Then I did something impulsive. I took two steps forward, slipped my hand behind her neck and kissed her. I know that everyone relates a sensation of pleasure to a different figurative image. Mine was of an earthquake. I've never felt one in my life, but I think my pleasure can only be compared to the powerful energy released by friction to the point of making the earth shake. Quinn's lips on mine were like earthquakes. My desire was there, my love was there. My body felt this need to give itself to Quinn. My heart was still hers. But I was wounded. It wasn't a simple cut on the skin where an antiseptic and a band aid would solve the problem. It was a deep, ugly, flesh wound that needed stitches and rest.

"You don't know how much I've missed you." Quinn had tears in her eyes and a beautiful smile on her face.

"Me too." I kissed her briefly, but no less intimately. "But I think we need to sort out a few things in our relationship first before we decide how we're going to move forward. These are serious things and we need solutions, Quinn. Staying together right now isn't a good option."

"Rachel!" She whispered desperately. "No! The last thing I need is a break from our relationship. We've already taken that break! We spent a month apart and it was like living in hell. I don't need a break."

"Listen..." I moved away from her, because if I got any closer, I wouldn't be able to follow my train of thought. "We need to be realistic here, Quinn. One night of love isn't going to erase the problems we were facing in our relationship. And I'm not just talking about your cheating. I'm talking about our relationship as a whole. And if we can't work through these issues, we're going to embark on a doomed marriage."

"Well..." Her voice was shaky and it broke my heart. "So what do you suggest?"

"I don't know..." I was being honest: I felt lost and confused too. For the first time in my life, I didn't have a plan to follow. "I really don't know." Now I was impressed with myself because my hands were shaking. "All I know, Quinn, is that I love you deeply. I think if it was just a casual drunken cheating, it would be less complicated. But our break up forced me to see things about our relationship and I realized that it's not just about this."

"What do you mean?"

"You compete with me more than you're my partner, for a start."

"Rachel, I don't know where you got that from, but I don't set up any kind of competition with you."

"But you do it. You may not realize it, but you do. You compete with me for the head of the house, you hate the fact that I earn more and you love having the last word. You've even tried to boss Santana around, as if she were a maid. And sometimes, in some way, you channel your father."

"It's true that I don't like you paying for things for me. That's the minimum. We've established a reasonable standard of living here in New York and I have to work hard to maintain it. The way I see it, I'm just trying to be completely independent of you, even though I'm your partner."

"And that's just one example. There's still your jealousy, that you urgently need to work on your male chauvinism, get control of your explosive temper, and there's a whole list that we haven't even discussed yet."

"Do you have a list?" Suddenly her posture was armed and Quinn hardly resembled the fragile creature of a few minutes earlier. "Because I'd really like to get to that list of yours so I can respond to it as calmly and as long as you did. Dumping a bunch on me on the spur of the moment doesn't seem fair, Rachel Berry-Lopez." She crossed her arms and looked intimidating. "I recognize that I have my character flaws. But so do you and I'm not interested in throwing every single one of them in your face."

"But you should. This is the opportunity. Go for it."

"Your mania for perfection kills me, for a start!" She snapped. I tried to keep my cool. "You go beyond mere professional perfectionism. You try to go for the literal form of the word until it comes to the flaws and the dramas. And when you're in perfectionist mode, you forget that we're all around you and force us to put up with your grumbling and obsessions. Excuse the word, but you're unbearable! Santana at least doesn't give a damn, and easily tells you to fuck off, but if I did the same thing, the world would come crashing down! It's not easy to meet the standards you consider ideal either. It's insane. It's unreal. There are times when I simply can't live up to your utopia of New York life."

"What?" I was offended. I was a perfectionist in my work, but I didn't carry that into my life. I had plans, yes, and I dedicated myself to achieving them, but what Quinn was saying was untrue. "I never demanded perfection from you, Quinn Fabray. I've always been too happy to have you by my side. After all, gee, Quinn Fabray loved me!" I waved my hands to accentuate the dismissive tone.

"Oh, so now I'm a prize girlfriend? Too bad this award here doesn't suit you when it comes to your career, huh? Don't you have to hide it? Because your advisor and your agent said that a budding actress couldn't have a gay relationship at such a young age if she wanted to make a career in Hollywood. Although there are a lot of interesting artists coming out and keeping their careers because they know it's much better to keep working without being forced to do theater 24 hours a day!"

"I've always considered myself lucky, graced, blessed and all the like for having you by my side..." I looked down and suddenly a flaw in the wood of the table became so interesting that I scraped my fingernail over it obsessively. "Obviously that's not enough for you. Because if it was, you wouldn't be charging me for it!"

The front door opened and I turned my attention there. Santana "maneuvered" the crutches and locked the door with a plastic bag hanging between her teeth. She had gotten very good at managing unwanted accessories. She placed the bag on the kitchen worktop next to the stove and hung her keys on the wall bracket that was also in the kitchen.

"It's raining like hell..." She commented casually. "I thought you'd be in your room at this point." She said amidst the mournful silence. As we didn't reply, she picked up the plastic bag again and headed for her room. "I'll be in my room with headphones in my ears. Come by if you need me because I'll be listening to really loud music. But I hope you don't need that."

I heard another knock and it seemed that the opportunity to have developed the discussion further had passed. Not my sister's fault, of course. The inappropriate arrival time wasn't deliberate.

"I'd like to make one thing clear." Quinn began again in a soft voice. "Be that as it may, I don't think these problems outweigh the good things we have."

"But if we ignore them, they could grow and wipe us out."

"Honestly, Rachel, I don't think giving it some time is going to solve it. If you're willing to move on with me, we're going to have to work together. Because I think it's ridiculous that I have to leave here and spend a month apart from you and then rebuild a relationship from scratch, which is impossible. Not after everything we've already done."

"I didn't suggest that."

"Between the lines, that's what it means to take a break." Quinn ironically made quotation marks with her fingers and widened her eyes.

"Maybe we can try other ways of working through problems. Maybe if we lived in separate houses, you wouldn't have to sacrifice so much to pay a rent that's too expensive for your reality nowadays. Maybe you'd stop this habit of wanting to be in charge of everything. That's something I hate about you. Maybe you can live better, Quinn. Something you haven't been able to do so far because you're always bogged down in jobs that don't satisfy you. You're only 21 and I'm almost there. We don't have to run around so much."

"Wait a minute? Would you carry on dating if we didn't live together anymore? That doesn't seem sensible to me. It's like we're going the other way in a relationship. It sounds ridiculous and I don't see the point. Especially as getting married young has never been a problem for us. So what's changed?"

"Everything changed when you deliberately ran out of here to have sex with another woman!" I said. "I could go on and on about all your faults, but everything changed when you simply decided to cheat on me only to come back the next day looking sorry for yourself! I appreciate your honesty, Quinn, but you had sex with another woman in a vile act of revenge for something that wasn't even true!"

"How could it not be true? You kissed that ridiculous man!"

"Rom kissed me. That's it, Quinn! He kissed me and I didn't reciprocate! End of the story! I'm sorry if there were photographers around. If that's the case, I think you need to make a list of women to fuck every time a castmate puts its tongue in my mouth to shoot a scene!"

Quinn leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. She took a deep breath.

"I cheated on you with a hot head, because I thought you did it to Rom first. I was so hurt that all I could think about was making you pay."

"That shows that your problem isn't just jealousy." I said seriously, without flinching. "It's clear that you don't trust me either, and on top of that you're vindictive."

"I do trust you! What I don't trust is other people!"

I got up and started walking around the room.

"The most ridiculous thing is that I love you like an idiot and part of me is here pulling my ear, telling me to forget everything, forgive you and skip straight to the part where we make up in the bedroom. But the other part says that would just be sweeping the dirt under the carpet."

"Look Rachel." Quinn stood up and walked towards me. She held my hands. "The fact is that whatever we decide, our problems won't be solved right now. So why don't you just take a break from your trip and your busy day? It's obvious that we're not in a position to decide or come up with solutions here and now."

Quinn could be the queen of manipulation when she wanted to be. I felt that if I gave her the opening she wanted, she would try to get around it until everything went back in her favor. Rest meant victory for her in these circumstances. And victory for her would mean taking me to bed, giving me a bunch of orgasms and then making me forget about these discussions with small gestures. It would mean that she could come back home for good and get on with our little life unchanged, deliberately trying to ignore all our problems until the moment they start screaming loudly again. I could do that. I could forgive her, welcome her with open arms and legs. How many women don't do that? How many women don't put up with worse things just to have their partners by their side? They're no better or worse than me.

Quinn's eyes had the power of hypnosis. I swear. I tilted my head and closed my eyes. It didn't take two seconds to feel her lips on mine. She brought her body close to mine in a way that made me go limp. How beautiful she was. How sexy she was even after an argument. There was such a thing as break-up sex, right? Maybe we could do that: one night and then that's it. Just one night... Quinn's touch was so good and I knew how she could make me forget. Then a clap of thunder brought me back from the dream world. Forgetting was to Quinn's advantage. Forgetting was to Quinn's advantage. Forgetting was to Quinn's advantage... I started repeating this phrase like a mantra. The point was, as tempting as it was to lose myself in her arms, everything was wrong.

"I'm sorry." My voice came out weak as she kissed my neck.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry." I repeated louder and that made her stop her caresses.

"Why?" Quinn stared at me as if she didn't understand. As if she had scored the last point of the game, but the referee had annulled the play because of an irregularity.

"Because our relationship ends here." I turned away from Quinn.

"Rachel! No!"

"This is the best thing I can do for both of us right now. I can't be with you knowing everything that's wrong, knowing that you were with another woman the way you did. That wound is open, Quinn. If I stay with you right now, the wound won't close, it will fester and we won't survive. In the end, all that will be left is hatred."

"Don't be a drama queen. Not now, Rachel!"

I took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of my now ex-girlfriend.

"I'll give you some space. I'll stay in Santana's room while you get your things. I know Mike won't mind putting you up for a few more days."

"Rachel..."

"It's over, Quinn, and you need to leave."