A/N - I hope this chapter is worth your time reading, I'll be honest, I'm learning I have an easier time writing for FH than RB.. so drop me a comment or review and let me know what you think? :)

I'll try to have at least a weekend (or weekly) update 'til it's done, time and creativity permitting! Writing by the seat of pants for now, no plan just a general story in mind... I also have a couple of other story ideas in progress that came to me this past week or so, including a one-shot that should be finished soon... so hopefully I'll have more content for my fellow finchel addicts posted real soon!

Also, guess I should mention, I don't own Glee or their characters (obviously!), just my original plot and any new characters I may conjure that are unrelated to Glee...

THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REVIEW!

FAITHFULLY FINCHEL FOREVER XOXO

—gleegleeglee—

NYC - HER

Ever have that eerie feeling like someone is watching you? Maybe not so much in a bad way, but maybe it is…

She's felt like that on and off for a while.. several months at least, maybe longer. It's similar to the feeling she has while performing on stage, except then she expects there to be an audience (and then too of course, a compulsory standing O when she's done). But she's not on stage now, nor is she performing.

She tries not to dwell on it much, even if she is a little psychic sometimes. It's not like she's hearing footsteps or seeing anything out of the ordinary, as such; she just senses some kind of.. presence?

Maybe it's just paranoia.

Either way, she can't decide if it's a scary thing or an exciting thing, but it's certainly unsettling - especially for someone such as herself who really does NOT particularly like surprises (mostly because she likes to be in control of all things in her life - it helps maintain self-discipline). Of course, she simply cannot control the world or people around her, but that's maybe what's so unsettling at the moment.

* * * glee*glee*glee * * *

On this chilly autumn evening, she's desperate to get home after a long trying day, especially after her restless night of (non-)slumber. She really HATED taking the bus. Cab fare is pretty expensive though, so tonight the bus seemed the only sensible option left once she'd made it all the way to the subway turnstile just to discover it was shut down for some sort of mechanical issues. Just perfect. She'd had to run (in the frigid evening drizzle - naturally) to catch the last express bus heading towards her destination.

So after early morning yoga class, piano practice, 6 hours of play rehearsals, and an unplanned sprint in the rain she was spent. As exciting as her life seems, it does take a toll sometimes. Not that she would complain about it.

See, Rachel Barbra Berry is a STAR! Well, she's about to be. Someday, soon. She's on the cusp of achieving her lifelong dream, which totally makes sense; she's keenly aware that her vocal chops are virtually unparalleled by any of her contemporaries.

Since the age of 4 she's had big dreams of BROADWAY, BABY! Her incredible singing, combined with impressive acting and dance skills makes her a real triple threat, the exact pedigree needed for reaching her objectives.

It's taken a lot of years of dedication and relentless hours of practice honing her craft, but she just knows that once her actual talent is given a chance to shine, they won't worry as much about her untraditional beauty and she'll be seeing her name in lights.

After over four years of paying her dues in bit parts in off-off-off-Broadway shows (and even lesser known student fare), she's landed a supporting role in an off-Broadway production. No it's not Fanny or Elphaba or Maureen, yes it is only a supporting role, and true the production is being helmed by a virtually unknown director, but it's still another step closer to the goal; Broadway and Tony Awards. You can't make it rain Tonys if you stop believing in your dream, or if you don't get the part!

* * * glee*glee*glee * * *

As the more than half-capacity-full stuffy tin box that passes for public transit jerked itself into gear and chugged on its way, she'd elected to remain standing. Despite eyeing a few open seats that were either situated next to questionable looking men or in cramped spaces (she gets a bit claustrophobic sometimes), she'd determined it'd be good to simply keep upright and stand. She doesn't take up very much space after all. Also as a performer, she'd often take advantage of any opportunity that could benefit her skills; in this case, she decided this would be an exercise in maintaining balance while in motion - develop her sea legs!

By the second city block of travel, the phone clasped tightly in her left hand buzzed to life. She glanced at the display and saw the name - just great, it was him. Again. Let it roll to voicemail, she thinks, then ponders whether it's time to delete & block that number?

Suddenly her thoughts are interrupted when that feeling is upon her. She's discretely scanning her immediate surroundings looking for anything out of the ordinary (on a public bus Rachel, seriously?). Hey as a single, attractive, young woman (who happens to be somewhat vertically challenged) traveling sans-companion at night in NYC, it doesn't hurt to be on high alert. (And yes she still carries that rape whistle her daddy gave her as a Hanukkah gift last year. Just in case. He'd given her the can of pepper spray also, but it was inconvenient to carry in her purse, didn't fit in her jean pocket and besides, she felt it was a dangerous deterrent; what if it exploded on her? What if she did permanent damage to herself or an innocent bystander?)

It's probably paranoia. Push it down, Berry, you're a strong independent woman who's had self defense training for Moses' sake! But after all, she hasn't been sleeping very well lately, and a recent break up isn't helping her emotional state, maybe that's why she's feeling this way.

She'd tried to break things off with the 'semi-casual occasional hookup' whom she'd been seeing for the better part of this past year. But he just didn't seem to be taking unanswered texts or unreturned calls as the 'NOT AGAIN IN THIS LIFETIME' message she intended to convey.

She thought she had let him down easy but with conviction at their last dinner outing, explaining her schedule is just too difficult now that the play production is ramping up, and that she really didn't expect him to sulk around waiting for her to have a spare moment to share with him, that she wasn't really in a good place for dating right now anyway. Apparently, she'd have to be blunt about it now, which she wasn't looking forward to since she very much dislikes confrontation. And violence. And womanizers. And man-whores.

While on an extremely rare girls night out a couple weeks ago, she'd secretly caught him on an apparent date at a nightclub (with a much older woman, she might add), hanging on the Joan Crawford wannabe like a cheap suit and kissing her neck. Couple that with the rumors she'd heard that he was doing the bedsheet tango with one of her dance instructors (yeah, the evil blonde one one who seemed to be hand-picked by the SATAN to make her life a veritable hell... what is it with evil blondes?), well, that was enough. She wasn't sure what his game was, but she knew she wasn't interested in playing anymore.

When she first met Brody Weston at NYADA (that's the incredibly prestigious NY Academy of Dramatic Arts, where she was one of the fortunate top 20 or so students hand-picked to attend in her enrollment year - due mainly to her impeccable vocal ability but also since she had seasoned dancing and acting skills which made her a bona-fide triple threat, providing exactly the skill set Broadway performers were expected to have!), he magically appeared in her world like a breath of fresh air. She'd thought he was incredibly sexy, funny and charming - even though they met in a co-ed bathroom and bonded over skin care rituals (which under most circumstances could be construed by many as incredibly weird and so, so gay). When he made a point of telling her he was certainly NOT gay, as if responding to her unspoken question, then followed it by telling her how flawless her skin was and letting her know he was single, and interested - heavy emphasis on INTERESTED.

The fact that he'd reciprocate her feelings kind of floored her. After all, she was never a traditional beauty by her (or most people's) standards; not that she felt she was ugly, no. She just relented that her darker complected pint-sized physique and Jewish features (particularly her nose) weren't exactly the 'gold standard' in this - or really any - entertainment field. But that was okay with her; she knew her talent outshined such superficial and fading traits and those merits would propel her to stardom one way or another.

Even through high school, she had never really felt sexy or noticed much by boys. She'd only had 1 boyfriend in her senior year and it ended badly, to say the least. Like, wearing raw eggs on her face, literally - badly. Yeah, what a St. Jerkass he turned out to be! So when a totally hot straight guy like Brody came along and actually pursued her romantically, she certainly wasn't going to turn the other cheek! Unfortunately, she probably should have. Hindsight is always 20/20!

* * * glee*glee*glee * * *

The truth was, if she were being completely honest with herself, she was actually sort of a little lonely.

Not that she didn't have a social life, or that she needed a man to make her happy. It's just, it was always part of her Broadway dreams to have someone eventually to come home to, who'd want to share in the success she'd enjoy by a certain point. Someone she'd make proud and dare she hope, someday maybe build a family with.

One thing she knew with certainty, she wants to be a mother someday. Certainly someday FAR off in the future - hey she's only 23 years old, her biological clock timer is no where ready to go off yet! At least if the universe could give any inkling of the possibility of that kind of romantic relationship looming on the horizon, that would be, y'know, kinda great. Because a serious relationship takes proper time and care to grow, to cultivate, to even consider those big family-size dreams, and right now the odds seem never in her favor. Not even any good prospects seemed to be in her orbit yet.

But now that her career is actually moving in an upward trajectory, her schedule is becoming exceedingly full and life is becoming a bit of chaos; she's just not sure when or if she'll ever have time to even try dipping a toe in the dating pool again, or even being dating pool adjacent. She simply refuses to use online dating apps, not trusting any potential cyber creeps that may be lurking or worse - falling victim to catfishing schemes. ACKKK she shudders at the thought!

She just wishes it was easier to find that one perfect guy… Why was it so hard to find ONE GOOD guy in all of New York Friggin City? One super cute guy with a great sense of humor, who could put up with her special brand of crazy, who loves movies and musicals and Broadway (or could learn to) but who also brings his own interests and things to the table to share with her. Someone strong, athletic maybe, whom she could rely upon, confide in, feel safe with, cry on the shoulders of, who'd comfort her when she needed and confront her when she needed. Someone whom she could support and who'd support her, unconditionally. And if it isn't asking too much, could he be at least a little musically inclined? Maybe he'd play an instrument, like piano or guitar so they could practice her songs together. Someone she could just, come home to, and love and be loved by, on a dreary cold night after a long tiring day... 'til death do us part.

UUGGHH. She sighs at her own pathetic ruminations just as her phone zapped against her palm. This time it's her roommate Tina, who is worried because she's not home yet and she hadn't called to say she was running late (as per their promised roomies pact).

Maybe she's just become another jaded New Yorker. Her upbringing in NYC practically sealed the deal on her Broadway dreams by the time she could walk and talk. Being exposed to so much rich culture and in particular, live musicals, longer than she can remember simply put her on that path to stardom. Her two gay dads (daddy Hiram & papa Leroy) saw her interest piqued by the time of pre-school following a viewing of Funny Girl and the rest, as they say, was history. They'd supported her every whim by way of financing her endeavors in pageants, singing & dance classes of every sort, including acting camp.

Growing up as a Manhattan-ite meant some amount of privilege for Rachel. Her fathers were each very successful in their own respects, one in finance (Hiram) and the other in law (Leroy). While it meant living in a posh Upper East Side apartment, it also often meant loneliness. As a (spoiled & secluded) adopted only child, she was innately shy and a bit unsocialized (this may be in part due to her insane laser focus in developing her performance skills in pursuit of her dreams). Her drive, ambition & insistence on perfection was a scary lethal combination to a lot of other kids that made her a bit of an outcast. She didn't make friends easily. Her fathers busy lives meant she was often left home alone hours at a time, including for long weekends. Before she turned 12, she'd had a nanny of sorts, but by the time of her bat-mitzvah she had tried to convince them she wasn't a baby anymore and no longer needed the added adult supervision. After all, as a strong independent young woman, she was extremely mature, cultured and responsible beyond her years! It took her at least two more years to convince her dads of this. Eventually Elodie was only around for a few hours when both dads were literally out of town for more than an overnight trip, and then was more of a welfare checkup and/or to bring groceries. By the time she was 15 and a half, Elodie had to stop working for health reasons and was simply never replaced.

So yes, she was used to being alone, even if secretly she didn't always want to be. Fortunately there was the Cohen-Chang family who lived in her building and had a daughter around her same age. So she did have one good friend in Tina, which was a comfort and occasional safe haven at their apartment. The girls became like sisters, even after moving out on their own, choosing to be roommates when they left the security of their parents homes.

By her junior year of high school she had firmly set her sights on NYADA. There were no back-up plan schools, this was IT. Her rigorous audition process as part of the application for enrollment included performing a song live in front of none other than the DEAN of the Performing Arts program! She'd been so nervous that day, but had found strength and confidence in her song choice. The one perfect fail-safe tune in her vast repertoire that essentially rang out as her personal anthem - 'Don't Rain On My Parade' by the incomparable Barbra Streisand. She had relied on this as her go-to song, had been performing it since the age of 5 (FLAWLESSLY since the age of 12) and had no reason to believe it could let her down. Until it did. Or rather, SHE let herself down. Somehow the words to the song that were as familiar to her as reciting her own name, simply vanished from her throat - twice. And it was Tina who helped her pickup the pieces, and formulate a plan to salvage that audition. It was Tina who drove her to see that dean of admissions to beg for another opportunity, and encouraged her to persevere, and in the end, it paid off!

* * * glee*glee*glee * * *

So now, on a cold damp evening after a long harrowing day, she's standing on a bus on the phone talking to her best friend assuring her own safety and seeking advice on how to handle 'the Brody situation'. As she & Tina contemplate the pros and cons of returning his call or not returning his call, she realizes it's her stop. She tells Tina she'll see her shortly at home, and bounced toward the front exit.

In the deboarding process, she gave a momentary backward glance over her shoulder & swore she saw a familiar figure tucked among the weary passengers toward the back. His unusual height first pulled her attention - even seated she could tell he was extremely tall. She glanced back one last time while her foot hesitated on the last step down toward the pavement below, when her eyes connected with his piercing amber ones for half a heartbeat - which made hers stop beating altogether for just a split second that felt like minutes suspended in time. Her breath hitched in her throat and she nearly stumbled all the way down to the waiting sidewalk. Then the bus door closed and pulled away, taking that magic spell with it.

As the bus exhaust kicked off a large plume of vapor, she simply froze in place with her feet planted firmly on the wet concrete beneath her. She blinked twice, then twice again to snap back to reality.

What the hell was that?