Permanent record. NYADA. Only 12 students admitted despite hundreds of applicants. She'll never get in with throwing an election on her record. She's practically a felon.
Oh, God.
It's over. It's all over.
She can't even perform at Sectionals. How are they supposed to win Nationals if she can't even perform at Sectionals?
She's doing her own walk of shame down the hallway, her tears flowing fast and with fury, when her name is paged over the speaker to return to the office.
What now? What more could they possibly take from her? Do they want her vocal cords too?
Over her dead body.
She quickly rounds the corner and stalls as she sees the back of a new head through the glass window of the administration office. It's a head that she doesn't recognize.
But the one sitting next to the unknown head is one that she most definitely does.
Rachel takes a moment to wipe her tears and make herself more presentable for the public. After all, first impressions are everything.
And there's no way in hell she'll allow the owner of the head of brown hair matching her own to see her cry.
Rachel walks in with her head held high and her shoulders squared, presenting her usual air of confidence even though she hardly feels it in a moment when she would much rather be licking her newly inflicted wounds. She steals a quick side-glance over at Shelby, whose head is facing forward, the woman's hands fidgeting in her lap. It's the same way Rachel sits, the girl notes, when she's anxious.
Great. Another genetic similarity shared with the virtual stranger. Just how many more of those could there possibly be?
You know what, she'd rather not know at this point. It would only serve to further her pain.
The unknown head turns to face Rachel as she knocks, the man granting her entry before Principal Figgins has the chance to allow her into his own office.
"You're even more stunning in person than your images on the show choir forums, Ms. Berry," the unknown man says, his eyes discreetly roaming to her ill-concealed legs before connecting with her eyes.
Rachel, never one to be intentionally rude and noticing this man's obvious importance based on his attire alone, immediately shakes off her own discomfort and reaches a well-mannered hand out for the older man to take, causing the middle-aged man to smirk in return.
Principal Figgins, already giddy with the presence of the man in his office, wastes no time trying to get said man what he desires most.
"Ms. Berry," Principal Figgins starts, "a unique opportunity has presented itself in the time since you previously left my office."
"With all due respect, Principal Figgins, I left your office less than 7 minutes ago. What could possibly have changed in that period?" Rachel asks, brows scrunched in a mixture of accusation and curiosity.
She wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but she also stopped believing in her luck being good many years ago—especially if it had anything to do with her elusive biological mother.
The mystery man takes the liberty of answering her question instead. "Rachel, I am Al Motta, Sugar's dad."
Rachel internally winces at that. She had heard that Sugar was wealthy and was aware that she was less than kind in her approach to denying Sugar a spot on New Directions, but had the man ever heard what noise emanates from his kid when she opens her mouth?
Al, sensing the shift in the teen, softens his smile. "Yes, that Sugar. Yes, I am aware of her…vocal prowess…and that is exactly why you are here."
Rachel risks another sideways glance at Shelby, wondering if the woman will make herself useful to Rachel for once and just tell Rachel what on earth is going on here right now.
Instead, Shelby is unhelpfully staring intently at a poster on the opposite wall.
Figures. Why would she start being there during Rachel's time of need now?
"I want you, Rachel," Al Motta's declaration rings through Rachel's internal musings.
That instantly gets the heads of both brunette women in the room snapping towards the man.
Al chuckles at the shared reaction. "I want you as the female lead of my new show choir, The TroubleTones, here at McKinley. I'm sure you've heard of them. They were formed by my dime under Ms. Corcoran's leadership," he unnecessarily explains.
Of course Rachel has heard of them. They are now Public Enemy #1 in her book.
Mr. Motta laughs, the sound drawing Rachel's wandering attention back to the older man once again. She must really be off her game today because her facial expressions seem to be giving her away at every turn.
"Judging by that look, you have heard of them and have no interest in joining," Al wisely surmises.
Rachel fights to keep her face from contorting into a scowl before confidently and politely holding her head high. "That would be correct, Mr. Motta. If having me on the TroubleTones is what you want, then I am afraid I cannot help you achieve that goal."
Rachel watches as a knowing glance is exchanged between Mr. Motta and Principal Figgins right before Figgins speaks up again.
"Mr. Motta, Ms. Berry, has become a very generous donor to this school," Figgins starts, as if Rachel couldn't have already guessed that, but why should she care?
Figgins continues, "He wants the TroubleTones to be a guaranteed success, and believes—"
"No, I know," Mr. Motta interrupts. Not only does he want to see his daughter's team win, but – ever the businessman – he has seen that there is money to be made in the high school show choir world. Just look at Vocal Adrenaline.
A proven high school choir star lead and a proven national champion coach? Al knows a winning dynamic when he sees one.
Apparently, he just doesn't know an estranged mother and daughter when they're right in front of his face.
"Right. He knows," Figgins quickly corrects with an apologetic nod of his head, "that having you as the female lead of the club will all but cement that success."
Al Motta wants her, and he's clearly willing to write another fat check to the school in order to make it happen.
But what does she get out of it? Does he honestly think she'll betray her friends – her family – with little more than a week before Sectionals, at that, to work with Shelby of all people?
Rachel almost storms out on principle alone.
Rachel has heard just about enough; her left shoulder already poised to make a dramatic turn as her left heel grounds into the floor in preparation to pivot.
Figgins knows the signs of a Rachel Berry storm out when he sees one, and he quickly blurts out, "I will reverse your suspension and allow you to perform at Sectionals!"
Rachel stops in her tracks, her upper body no longer twisted halfway towards the door now that he's managed to regain her attention.
Figgins, seeing his momentary victory, takes a chance and presses on, "…but only with the TroubleTones, and it's contingent upon a win, so you may want to think carefully before joining just to try to sabotage the new glee club, Ms. Berry."
Rachel, appalled at the insinuation, grows defensive. "Principal Figgins, while I can respect your thought process, I would never engage in something so morally ambiguous—"
"Ms. Berry, we're only here because of your recent moment of moral ambiguity," Principal Figgins so bluntly points out.
Before Rachel can form a rebuttal that is so clearly on the tip of her tongue if the big, preparatory breath she takes is anything to go by, Al decides it's time to get the conversation back on track before the moron of a principal lets the opportunity slip away.
"Principal Figgins will make sure that your permanent record remains unblemished, Rachel. There will be no mention of a cheating scandal for NYADA to see," Mr. Motta finishes, sealing the last bit of what all is in this for Rachel.
Normally, she'd politely and diplomatically tell all 3 of them the polite equivalent of "go to hell," but the NYADA of it all stops her short. These are not normal circumstances, and desperate times call for desperate measures.
As loyal as she's been to the New Directions, she has two more big competition performances with them, if they're lucky.
And, let's be honest, that luck is far less feasible without her ability to perform at Sectionals with them 11 days from now.
This is her future they're talking about here, and her future will not include the New Directions for much longer anyway...
Her eyes slide to Shelby, who's still silent and unmoving – even unblinking – in the chair next to Mr. Motta. The older woman's silence hasn't gone unnoticed by Rachel.
On the contrary, her birth mother's silence has been the loudest thing in the room to Rachel this entire time.
Shelby didn't want Rachel as a baby. She didn't want Rachel a year and a half ago. Of course she wouldn't want Rachel now. Not even as a performer. She'd already rejected to even simply act as the girl's mentor sophomore year at Regionals. So much for Shelby Corcoran being "done with coaching show choir."
Rachel feels her chest tighten at that thought before she forces herself to think about something else. Something pleasant.
Her mind shifts to the NYADA sign, and she finds herself reaching forward to politely grab Mr. Motta's hand to give it a few firm shakes, her show face firmly planted in place the entire time.
"Mr. Motta," her dazzling voice croons, "you've got yourself a deal, and the TroubleTones have themselves a new lead."
Rachel ignores the way Shelby's jaw drops in her peripheral vision. The young ingenue knows that she'll have to work with people she doesn't particularly care for in her future career, so she figures she may as well get more practice with that now.
That's what this is. An acting exercise on the path to her future on Broadway. And if that path includes having to ever-so-briefly work with Shelby, then so be it.
Rachel tightens her grip before letting go of Mr. Motta's hand, a determined look in her eye as she maintains eye contact with the visibly pleased man.
Figgins beams, already imagining the new toilet seat cover he'll be buying for his office bathroom once the latest check clears.
Rachel, now swiftly turning to leave since their business seems to be concluded for the moment, adds one last parting thought in the office doorway. "If anyone is worried about the lack of punishment for my actions regarding the election, don't worry. This move is much more punitive in nature than you might think."
With a fleeting glance at her estranged mother, Rachel crosses the office's threshold.
Shelby finally looks up to see her daughter's retreating form as the girl heads out of the office.
Shelby, as if possessed by Rachel's last words, chases Rachel out into the hallway. Her brain has seemingly finally caught up to the ramifications of the conversation that has just happened around her. "What happened to the New Directions being your family?"
Rachel, looking Shelby straight in the eye for the first time that day, decides to voice her own previously hidden thoughts, "What happened to you no longer wanting to coach show choir? I guess it was just me whom you didn't want to coach. Look how that's working out for you now!"
None of the irony is lost on either woman, but Rachel still relishes in the way Shelby's face seems to deflate at the words. Seeing this only prompts Rachel to go in for the kill. "Besides, sometimes it's your own family that hurts you the most."
Rachel proceeds to turn her back on her so-called mother, turning to walk to the choir room to inform her now-former team members of her Benedict Arnold act born of self-preservation.
A/N: I have notes written for the direction of this story, but the organization of it and my work schedule setup are not the best. Definitely wouldn't mind having a beta to hold me accountable and to possibly bounce ideas off of!