Chapters won't all be this fast.

This story is angsty (like most of my stories are). I suppose this story should come with a content warning. It will deal with sensitive topics like abuse/assault.

Chapter 2: Back to a Moment

Everyone was worried about her. Rachel knew this. After Finn's death, she wasn't sure she would ever be happy again. The weight of her feelings felt too big to possibly survive. But she found a way. One moment at a time, she lived through it. She knew she would always miss him, but she accepted that he was gone and found ways to be happy at times. The sadness came and went, but she was slowly moving on.

She experienced that moment with Sam, which was nice, but a mistake (a better mistake than Brody, but still a mistake). Though it did help her see that she would, one day, be able to move on.

Things felt more normal, even when there were setbacks.

Her friends still treated her with kid gloves sometimes. She understood it, even appreciated it, but that changed too once she and Kurt went for tattoos. Kurt didn't know about hers, but she did, and that was what mattered. Finn would always be with her. His love would always be with her, and that gave her strength.

Rachel found herself looking forward to things again. Despite Cassandra July still pushing her to her limits, dance classes had been more fun. Her innocent flirtation with the new TA for the semester made things feel normal. A new, weird, but filled with potential normal.

Classes and work kept her going. She felt herself coming back. It was different, but she was okay. Until she wasn't.

She couldn't form the words or grasp what happened to change it. It was like her voice was robbed from her. She couldn't sing about it. She couldn't speak about it. The words were there, but there was no way for her to say them.

It just happened.

She felt irrevocably changed because of it.

Usually, she wore her emotions on her sleeve, but this… The raw, deep, painful emotions… She couldn't talk about it. She was numb and pained at the same time.

She didn't understand how she went from such a high to such a low in so short a time.

It started innocently during one of their practices. Cassandra was off for a week to audition and drink herself into oblivion when it went wrong – which they all knew it would. Jasper offered to give her extra lessons to pass her exams. She was thankful, and wanted to be the best, so of course she eagerly agreed.

She stayed after class for the first lesson. Once everyone was gone, Jasper got right to work. His hands moved along her body, adjusting her. The initial touch made her pull away.

"Sorry," he told her. "Just repositioning your body. Proper stance. I mean no harm."

His smile was intoxicating. Despite the initial panic, his charm won her over. He was kind and gentle. He wouldn't hurt her…

"Ah… Alright," she responded.

She was uncomfortable with the touches but didn't let it show. He was helping her. It was normal.

At least, she convinced herself of that.

She told herself many things to rationalize her uneasy feelings – feelings that she really couldn't explain. Maybe that was her downfall.

That, and the utter, weighted silence that drowned out the ever-present thoughts.

Rachel was a talker. She always was. Words were her friends. Through words, through lyrics and song, she expressed herself. She rarely kept anything in – something that got her in trouble sometimes. For everything in her life, she had a way to work through it with music and singing and babbling. That was her.

But this felt like a silent killer creeping throughout her body and taking over every inch of her. There were no words for her pain. No way to express the feelings because she felt simultaneously numb and inundated with an overwhelming flood of so many things.

She couldn't process any of it.

Maybe, if she didn't express it, then it wasn't real.

It wasn't real… She wouldn't let it be.

Yet it was very real and slowly eating away at her. Bit by bit, it felt like her insides were rotting by the taint.

Things with Jasper continued like that. She knew he had the power to help or hurt her in the class. She so desperately wanted to win the showcase again and impress everyone. She heard there would be some talent scouts there this year, agents looking for the next big star. That gave her more incentive. It made her more ignorant. It was what made her jump at the chance to continue to train with him, to work on her upcoming performance with him when she wouldn't even show Kurt.

She wanted it all so badly, so, when he continued to "form" her – to put her in proper movement – she didn't stop him. Not even when his hands hovered a little too long on her breast or cupped too much on her bottom.

"Rachel, you need to relax. You're like a virgin schoolgirl."

"I'm not," she insisted.

"Every time I touch you, you act like it's the first time anyone has ever put a hand on you. Please tell me you've had sex before."

"That's not any of your business," she said, blush painting her cheeks.

"You are then?"

"What? No…"

"Good… Then stop acting like one. We're dancing. That's it. I'm showing you the right way to do things. Acting squirrely all the time is unprofessional."

"I'm sorry," she told him, head bowed.

"Just stop. You're acting too innocent. Clearly, you're not, and, even if you were, the point is not to let it show. That's the nature of show business. Fake it, honey. That's the only way to make it."

She didn't respond. He smirked.

"Now, let's start from the top, shall we?"

She nodded.

His hand went to her hip, his body molded to her back. She could feel the heat of his breath on her ear as he leaned down.

"Good," he said. "You're finally getting it."

It was dancing. Dancing was intimate with a partner. That's all it was…

It was fine. It was all fine.

His misplaced hands during a lift, the leering he thought she didn't see, the accidental grazes… They were all to make her better, all normal.

He helped her impress Cassandra. So, he wasn't lying. He was making her better. It felt like she was crazy for feeling the way she did. He was normal. She was not. That simple.

Maybe that was why she never said anything. Some days, she would come home from class and practices tired and confused. Kurt would ask her about her day, and she would say it was fine, just tiring. The feelings weren't real. They were in her head. No need to mention them.

She was misinterpreting things. Voicing that would have been reckless. It would have made her look stupid, paranoid even… immature. Sometimes, she even said she thought he was cute – he was – and might have had a crush on him if he didn't make her feel so… weird.

Jasper was a great guy doing her a favor. He didn't deserve to be on the wrong end of her craziness… In the end, it paid off.

In some ways.

Cassandra was impressed with her improvement. She threw the hardest things she could at Rachel, and Rachel went for it. She passed with flying colors and was even invited to take part in her spring workshop if Cassandra was still around next semester. She was also invited to the winter workshop to help with teaching.

Rachel jumped on the invitation and said she'd do it without question.

"Congrats," Jasper said, catching her after the invitation was offered. "A couple years ago, that was me. Then I went off and did a company tour of 'Death of a Salesman.' So many opportunities right at your fingertips. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"So good. Thank you for all your help."

"Passed and now you're done with me?" he teased; a playful pout posed on his pretty lips.

"Of course not. I owe you dinner, and we still have my showcase to work on. That was part of the deal, right?"

"It was. I'm glad you remembered. Want to go grab dinner now?"

"I need to get to work, but don't worry. I pay my debts."

"Counting on it. Can I walk you out?"

"Oh," she said, flustered. "You don't need to."

"I'd like to. We can make some plans for our remaining practices."

"Uh… Okay."

Things between them weren't awkward, though Rachel felt he was a little pushy. But that was just him, she told herself. People had said the same things about her.

While that was tame – normal she would say – Rachel couldn't help but think back to every single moment where she played a part. The things she ignored. The things she let happen. The innocent that wasn't all that innocent.

Was it all her fault?

Did she cause this?

"Dinner was great," Jasper said. "I'm glad you recommended this place."

"It's one of my favorites. Totally my treat," she said. "A thank you. Really. Cassie hated me last year. This year, she just pushes me, which is better, but it's nice to actually impress her for once."

"You think you impressed her now, wait until she sees your showcase piece."

"I'm really excited for it. I'm pushing myself, and I've never really had to do that before. I was one of the best, and no one really cared. But here, everyone is good and tries to be better. It's so different."

"You're still one of the best," he said, hand reaching across the table and topping hers.

"Thanks."

There was a moment when she wanted to pull away but didn't. His words, his help, even his touch, in that moment, were comforting.

She was feeling good, and that hadn't happened a lot over the previous few months, so she wanted to be happy. She wanted to celebrate. Jasper was willing to do that with her, and she was going to hold onto that feeling however long it lasted.

She just wanted to be happy again, to not worry about every little thing or have the constant weight of depression and crippling grief smothering her every second. When he made her feel special or when he made her laugh, there were moments of peace when she felt free. That was all she wanted… To be free from her own thoughts and feelings.

So, when he reached over and placed his hand atop hers, she let him, and when he wrapped his arm around her waist, hand dangerously low, she tried not to overthink it.

When his lips grazed her cheek, she might have even liked it. But it didn't last long.

"How long has it been?"

"What?"

"You know… You said your ex died, right?"

"Yes. Finn."

"Well, how long has it been?"

"He passed…" She didn't even want to think about the grueling months that passed.

"No," he interrupted. "Not how long ago did he die, how long has it been since you were with him?"

"Oh… We were… It was complicated."

"And sex?"

"What?"

"When was the last time?" he asked, making a lewd gesture to emphasis the question.

She was slack jawed and staring.

"Come on, a pretty girl like you, I'm sure you've had people knocking on your door."

"Jasper, I don't think…"

"Shh," he said, his finger grazing her lip. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"

All the time, she thought.

"Let's dance," he suggested, moving away from her as if that was the most innocent of interactions, like nothing inappropriate passed his lips.

It all made Rachel feel crazy. One second, he was a perfect gentleman and she liked it, then everything about him oozed creep. She never knew what to expect, and she couldn't tell if she was overreacting. He was genuinely helping her. Her ambition just might have blinded her.

The incidents happened often leading up to the winter showcase, but they were veiled in attempts to help her. She convinced herself that was all they were. Drive, ambition, and naiveté… They would be the death of her. But it was when she could no longer ignore the combative voice in her head telling her that things weren't right, that she felt the most at fault.

"Only a few more days until the showcase. Feeling ready for it?"

"I'm always ready, Jasper. You know that. I'm an excellent performer."

"You are, and your dancing has come a long way under my tutelage."

"I can't wait. I'm so ready for it."

"Good. So, now that I know you're feeling ready and prepared, you might be more receptive to my unconventional plan for tonight's practice."

Her face scrunched up in confusion and – to some extent – concern.

"What's the plan?" she asked.

"You're wound too tightly. I want you to relax."

She tried to protest, insist that she was relaxed, but he stopped her before she could start.

"No arguing. We're going to have fun, take your mind off the showcase, and then, when we come back and do a run through – a dress rehearsal if you will – you'll be better than ever."

Skeptically, she asked, "What are we going to do?"

"Have fun," he said. "Come on."

He grabbed her hand and led her to the subway where they listened to a street performer. Jasper even got her to sing with the drummer. The applause fed her soul.

They left a tip for Tom, the drummer, before catching their train. Still unaware of where they were going, Rachel was alive with the energy of the night.

Jasper took her to a jazz club; swanky, but for a younger crowd. There was dancing and drinking and live music. Surprisingly, she had a lot of fun. They met some of his friends there and had a great night. Drinks flowed, the music drove them, and they all spent the night laughing and enjoying themselves.

"So, what do you think? Fun right?"

It was… Until that moment.

"What's wrong?" he asked, the two of them tucked away in a quiet corner.

He followed her gaze to see a man around his age all over an older woman.

"Who's that?"

"My ex," Rachel stated.

"I thought he died."

"Different ex."

She hadn't seen Brody since their breakup. She didn't want to, either. Seeing him now just made her angry. It made her think of time she could have spent with Finn. Time she didn't have because she was with him.

"He's a prostitute," she said, unbelieving of her own words. Why did she tell him that?

"You dated a prostitute?"

"An escort, I guess. I didn't know."

Maybe it was the drinks that caused her loose lips or maybe she just needed someone outside of her circle who didn't know her past and relationships and have preconceived notions about what a horrible person Brody was, but the words kept pouring out.

"That's kind of gross."

"I know."

"Is that why you broke up?"

"That, and I cheated on him… Kind of. It was an open relationship… I just didn't know how open."

"You're a lot different than I realized," he said.

"Oh no… He saw me," Rachel complained, leaning back into the wall looking to escape.

"Want to give him a show?" Jasper asked, leaning with her.

The implications were clear. She knew what he was asking, and she wasn't opposed to it. She didn't want Brody to think he ruined her. She shouldn't have spent any time thinking about that loser at all, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't true love, but there were feelings there.

So, she nodded and pushed onto her tippy toes, lips getting dangerously close to his waiting for him to reciprocate. His head met hers, noses dancing around each other as the kiss deepened. One of his hands moved into her hair, the other pulled her closer to him.

Rachel found herself enjoying the escape. Jasper was a good kisser, and it had been a while since she had been kissed. It was… Well, nice.

Her eyes peeked open to see Brody watching. So she played along a little longer, moving her hands low onto Jasper's back.

"He left," she said, pulling away.

Jasper met her eyes, body still close to hers.

"I think we gave him a good show."

Rachel smiled.

"That was nice."

"Yeah."

"Let's get out of here," he said.

She nodded and allowed him to take her hand, guiding her out of the club. Out on the street, he stopped, looking for a nearby cab. Nothing was available.

"I'll send for an Uber," he told her.

"Great."

They idled around, both leaning against the building as they waited.

"I had fun tonight."

"Me too. It was nice to see the Rachel outside of NYADA."

"Same Rachel," she said.

"Not really."

He turned to her meeting her eyes before going in for another kiss. This time, there was no Brody to put a show on for, just the two of them… being.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pushing away from him.

"Kissing you."

"Why?"

"I thought it was nice…"

"It was."

"Good," he said, leaning back in. She didn't fight it, but she wasn't sure about it either.

She let him kiss her a while longer. When his hand dipped under her waistband, she truly pushed away.

"I don't want that," she said.

"What?"

"I…" she froze.

"Really? I don't get you, Rachel," he angrily stated. "You send a lot of mixed signals. You let me take you out on a date, you kiss me… You stick your tongue down my throat, but when I want a little more, you make me out to be some predator. Make up your mind." He shook his head and looked at a message on his phone. "My ride's here. Figure out what you want and call me when you know."

He left her there dumbfounded and feeling like an idiot. He was right, she thought. She sent a lot of mixed signals. She had to apologize, especially if she still wanted his help.

Rachel went to him the next day and profusely apologized. She didn't mean to send him mixed signals, she said, but she wasn't ready for any kind of relationship outside of professional. All she wanted was to focus on her performance.

"That's all you had to say then," he told her.

But things didn't exactly go back to normal after that. They never would.

"Rachel, hon, you're killing me here. We're in the middle of a lunch rush and you're in la la land. Get it together sweetheart. You've got a costumer."

Her boss pointed to a table of costumers that just came in. A family, great.

"Sorry. I'll get right to them."

"Then take your break and get out of this funk before showtime."

"Sorry," she repeated.

She wished she could get out of the funk, but the memories – all the moments – plagued her. None more than the last.

"I won," Rachel cheered, Kurt taking her into a big hug.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. And Kurt, you were great."

"I know," he joked.

"You both were awesome," Santana said. "But enough with this mush. Let's celebrate."

"I've got an idea," Jasper stepped in. "If you're up for it?"

"What kind of plans are we talking?" Santana asked.

"Well, I happen to know a little place down the road where the off-Broadway cast of Sweeny Todd is having a winter hiatus - birthday party after their last show tonight, but if that doesn't interest you, I'll have to go alone."

"We're interested," Kurt quickly said, Rachel nodding eagerly along with him.

"Lead the way, Sparkles," Santana agreed.

Ignoring the nickname, and first allowing Rachel and Kurt to meet with Madame Tibideaux, the group made their way to a swanky club where a private party was already in full swing.

"How are we supposed to get in there?" Santana skeptically asked.

Jasper laughed and walked up to the bouncer. They couldn't hear what he said, but the man smiled and gave Jasper a handshake before opening the door to let them in.

"Come on guys."

Their first question… "How did you do that?"

"I was invited to this party, and some of my old classmates are in the show. It's all about who you know. Stick with me. You might even see a few familiar faces."

They were intrigued. Even Santana, after spending so much time living with Kurt and Rachel, was a little star struck seeing Camille Lawson, a Broadway regular.

"Oh my god. O.M.G." Kurt was fangirling. "Look. Look."

Rachel followed his finger and joined in on the squealing.

"Her brother is the birthday boy," Jasper said. "Want to meet her?"

"Hells yeah we do," Santana said.

It was an incredible night. They sang, danced, and partied with working actors. They got to meet and sing with a real Broadway star. Jasper's friend even said he would put in a good word for her at any auditions.

A special toast was made to honor the show, to the actors, and to Showcase winner Rachel.

It was magical. Rachel was willing to say that it was one of the best days she had in a very long time. Certainly, it was one of her best days since moving to New York.

"I'm so drunk. I'm heading home," Kurt said as the night started winding down.

"Me too. Already called an Uber. You coming, Midget?"

Before Rachel could answer, Jasper leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Stay. There's something else I want to show you."

"I'll get a ride home later. I'm not done celebrating."

The friends left without question, making Jasper promise to get her home safe. Of course, he said he would. He was charming that way. Just the two of them, Jasper led her over to the bar, fetching them both another drink, and then told her he wanted to bring her to another afterparty.

Stumbling with drink and excitement, Rachel followed him like a puppy. She leaned heavily on him, a dizziness swirling in her head.

"Have I ever told you that I met Barbra Streisand once?"

"What? No… tell me everything," Rachel demanded, her words slurred.

He spun a tale before adding, "I have her autograph and pictures at my place. Want to see?"

"Yes!"

"Come on."

Rachel barely registered the trip to his apartment, just incoherently babbled Barbra facts and asked a question here and there about the meeting. She was so enamored with the idea of meeting Barbra, of touching the things she touched, she didn't even register that they were in his apartment.

She sat on his couch and ate up all he had to give. He truly had met Barbra. He did have her autograph… She couldn't have asked for a better day.

"I'm so tired," she whispered.

"Relax then," he said, leaning back in the couch and pulling her along with him.

Her head rested on his shoulder.

"Thank you for such a good day," she mumbled, eyes fluttering closed.

Without warning, his lips were on hers. A hand went to her thigh.

"Hey. Stop," she said.

She was feeling heavy, drunk.

"Come on, Rachel. I did so much for you. Now it's your turn to do something for me."

He started in on a kiss again. His hand went under her dress. She tried to push him away, to stop him, but it only angered him. He pushed her down into the couch, trapping her. His grip on her arm tightened.

He would take what he wanted whether she was ok with it or not.

"Stop," she yelled at herself.

She needed to focus on her work. She needed that memory out of her head.

Her eyes roamed the restaurant to see her boss impatiently nodding toward the unserved table.

Customers… Right.

With a deep, shuttering breath, Rachel grew the nerve to step out of her head and into the real world, making her way to the table.

Not looking up from her notepad, she said, "Hi, I'm Rachel. I'll be your server today. Can I start with your drink order?"

"Rachel?"

The familiar voice caught her off guard and her head popped up, finally seeing the group in front of her.

"Shelby?"