maiohwmai

Forgetting to Sing [Rachel; Finn/Rachel]

magicstaryn1863@msn.com — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 19:25:59 GMT

Rating: PG
Spoilers: Pilot
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters
Summary: Finn misses Glee Practice before a competition and Rachel's not going to let him get away with it.
Author's Note: I just wanted to a scene where Finn taught Rachel how to play the drums, but I guess this is what I came up with. I hope you'll enjoy this one.

It was all so romantic, the way were holding onto each other like there would never be another tomorrow. Even if they were from completely different worlds, nothing mattered except for the fact that they were together at that very moment. As they opened their hearts, they sung every note and breath like it could somehow substitute for the happy ending that would never come.

Well… it should have been that way, except the hot male lead never showed up like he was supposed to, which made it impossible for Tony and Maria to “find a new way of living somewhere.”

Yeah, Finn was somewhere alright, but Glee practice wasn’t it, and Rachel swears that he better have a fantastic excuse, because their regional competition is just days away and she can’t afford to look like a fool.

He’d also better be on his deathbed or something close to it, she thinks, as she stalks down his driveway and knocks on his door ever so determinedly. Because she distinctly remembers the time she won first place in a Lima singing competition after dancing in 4-inch heels while suffering from a horrible case of bronchitis, for goodness’ sake.

Except, he’s not on his deathbed. And she knows this because the door suddenly swings open and she sees him standing there, after she has been staring out at the parched grass, absent-mindedly tapping her foot on the ground, waiting for him to open the front door.

Finn is distracted, busy finishing a conversation he’s having with someone who sounds like his mom, before he finally turns around completely. He takes one quick glance over at her to see who she is before it registers and a look of surprise crosses his face, like she suddenly revealed to him that her deepest darkest secret was that she had always wanted to be a Cherrio or something. Right.

He looks almost as surprised as he did the day she first heard him sing, although he‘s not as horrified as she thought he would be about her impromptu visit to his house. But, regardless, she wants to make sure that he is horrified after she’s done with him, because of course, practice makes perfect. And how does he expect Glee to get any better without any practice? He is a football player after all, he should know this out of all people.

So, she’s almost done explaining to him gently, she believes, like a director does to an uncooperative actor, that he needs to come to every single rehearsal. He’s nodding very quickly and almost leaning away from her, but she ignores it. She can’t help it if she’s very passionate.

Finn is given no chance to interrupt her lengthy speech, so he waits until she finishes. When she does, he realizes that she is barely even breathless. She always had great lung capacity to begin with.

Then, he’s telling her about how badly Coach has been working him for one of the most important games of the season. Although, it probably also has to do with the fact that he still hasn't taken a liking to Glee Club and chooses to punish Finn because of it, as though he can beat it out of him. Or, maybe it’s because Ken Tanaka still can’t catch the eye of a certain red-headed and pretty, but slightly neurotic guidance counselor. The same one, who apparently only has eyes for her prince charming in the form of a certain Glee Club leader, whose obvious priority is the kids, of course, hence the blackmailing- but no one knows about that yet.

Rachel crosses her arms as Finn continues to explain, saying that he doesn’t feel like he even has time to finish most of his school work, even though needs to pass. With practice, New Directions, and extra pressure from both the game and Regionals...Oh yeah, and Quinn- who has increasingly made it clear that she doesn’t want to see her boyfriend with the Queen of Trannies, while also refusing to let them go any further, and, not to mention the fact that he can’t stop thinking about Rachel that way, when he's kissing his girlfriend, (but he doesn’t mention any of this) he doesn’t think he can keep up.

Her first instinct, is tough luck, this is show biz, and that’s when she notices the dark circles under his eyes.

He just looks so damn. tired.

And she almost forgives him. Almost.

Suddenly, his mom appears behind him and she asks if it’s Quinn, half-expecting to see a bright red uniform and a glimpse of blonde hair, which is all it takes to remind her of that pick-and-save girl. But her face seems to light up once she notices that it’s not and she asks him to invite Rachel in for dinner.

He looks a little shy and he gives her a questioning look with the nod of his head, but then moves back slightly to let her pass as she bounces in. Of course, she says. She’d love to.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rachel scans the room and is taking it all in, when she notices a particular picture on the wall.
“Is this your dad?” She asks him, as she walks up and peers at it for a closer look.

“Yeah, but he died in Iraq when I was a kid…” He says, and she lets out a breath and looks at him, hoping that he would catch the meaning in her eyes.

She realizes that she suddenly wants to know more about his life, beyond football, and even Glee. And she’s this close to telling him that she didn’t really ever get to know her real mom either, before he’s called to set the table.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dinner is amazing, she thinks, and she chatters away about Glee over spoonfuls of mash potatoes. His mom starts telling embarrassing stories about him, and Rachel can’t help but laugh. He keeps saying mom, over and over trying to get her to stop, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Rachel playfully and subtly nudges him under the table to tease him, until he catches on. He tries to get her back, succeeding only several times before she moves her legs away, like the graceful trained dancer that she is. And it continues this way 'till dessert is finished and all their plates are completely empty.

Feeling full, slightly sleepy, and a bit too comfortable in his house, she stands up and offers to help with the dishes. He’s picking up plates and emptying them into the sink, ready to wash them too, but his mom insists that he doesn’t have to, she’ll do it tonight, because Rachel is a guest.

So, they walk back towards the living room and she’s perched on top of a couch, forgetting why she even came here in the first place. It’s quiet, but not awkward, until she spies a drum set out of the corner of her eyes, which is gleaming in all its blue glory. When she gets up, he follows her gaze, and he tells her that it was the first one he had ever gotten. It was a gift from his dad before he left for Iraq.

He’s beaming slightly, as she moves in to inspect it, and he suddenly asks her if she wants to try them out. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, telling him that it’s okay, and that she really shouldn’t. But, it’s too late and he’s walking into his room to grab a pair of drumsticks and she’s bending her head to get a glimpse of what it looks like.

Then somehow, she ends up grabbing the sticks from his hands and now she’s clumsily banging away, feeling a little ridiculous. She doesn’t embarrass easily, but when she’s with him, she kind of loses and finds herself at the same time, and now she’s blushing. In a good way.

He laughs at her and it takes every bit of strength for her not to make a face at him.

“Is this how everyone feels when I try to teach them new dance moves and they don’t get it right away?” She asks. But he just smirks his one-sided smirk and comes towards her.

“Here.” He says, before she can get dramatic.
And he’s leaning behind her, and suddenly his hands are bracing her bare shoulders to steady her and she suddenly realizes she isn’t wearing her sweater, since it’s draped behind her chair in the dining room.
“Try it like this.”
She sucks in a breath as he slowly slides his hands down her arms and steadies her hands, which are now gripping the drumsticks so hard her knuckles are turning white.

And so he starts her off with an easy beat and she can just feel this change in him, like the way she feels, when she is up on the stage. They’re laughing at first, but then his breathing steadies and she can tell that he’s concentrating, which makes her stop concentrating. After a while, she just lets him lead the way, which doesn't happen very often. He finishes with a flourish, but he doesn’t release his hands and she doesn’t object. And they stay that way for what seems like a very long time.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When she gets to her room, she just climbs into bed, remembering how it felt to have his arms around her, the way they leaned into each other, even though she thinks it meant nothing. She’s tricking herself into thinking that it was the most natural thing in the world, as if he didn’t have a girlfriend, and like he might have felt something. But it does mean something. Because tonight, she leaves her tripod unfolded. Her computer is off, she's happy, and for once, she forgets to sing to the world.

Wishful Thinking [Rachel; Finn/Rachel]

magicstaryn1863@msn.com — Tue, 02 Jun 2009 06:51:26 GMT

Rating: PG
Spoilers: Pilot, LA Times Video
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Author's Note: I seriously can't get Rachel and Finn out of my head, so I came up with this. Plus, I'm procrastinating. Funny how I become productive by being unproductive..

It’s not easy being a star. Metaphorically, she means. Either way, it doesn’t matter because one day she’s going to outshine them all.

It doesn’t matter that those righteous cheerleaders do everything in their collective uniformed power to tear her down. Or, that they liken her to a cross-dresser, even after she carefully applies her makeup and re-sprays her hair. Her dads adore her and think she is beautiful.

It doesn’t matter that she receives those demeaning comments on her page during her late night study sessions, even when she runs to her monitor, hopeful that one may be remotely decent. And God will forgive them, right?

It doesn’t matter that after she finishes straightening her sweater and pats it down to perfection, as though the seams hold her dignity, she walks down the hallway and sees the sign-up sheet. Her heart beats faster and she starts to feel happy, because she knows she now has a chance to show just how special she is. It doesn't bother her when that feeling disappears the minute the cold liquid splashes onto her face and she gasps for air. Yet, no one moves to help her. But there is no time to waste and she holds her head up high, determined as ever to make it to the top.

Everybody hates her, but they’ll see…

Nothing bothers her, even when she hears loud smashing noises at three in the morning, and she runs downstairs terrified, clutching onto daddy as he opens the curtains. The glass is smudged and covered in yellow slime that slides down ever so slowly, as if taunting her. The porch is littered with broken eggshells, and she can hear distant laughter as a car speeds away, honking. She clutches her robe tighter to her body in the cold and she she’s trying to make out who they are. Someone’s face is pressed against the window, looking almost, guilty. He looks familiar, but hundreds of guys in McKinley High are tall, with dark hair, and she doesn’t know who it could be.

And it doesn’t matter even though she knows he is sorry.
Who cares if he’s the only one who makes her feel special, like she doesn’t have to try so hard all the time.

It doesn’t matter that in the auditorium, with those bright shining lights staring down at her, she can’t see, feel or hear, anything else except the way her voice echoes around the room. It will surely get her onto Broadway, it’ll be her big break, her chance for fame.

Then, when that happens, she doesn’t ever have to look back again.

Yet, somehow, all of that disappears for just a brief second, every time she feels him gaze at her.
Or when he lets his fingers linger on hers longer than he needs to each time they sing together.
And when he tightens his grip on her waist to make sure she doesn’t slip away.

She doesn’t understand it, but being around him, it is almost like there is more to being special than she thinks. But as smart as she is, she can’t piece what that means together.

Her heart isn’t broken when she first catches a glimpse of that slicked back blonde ponytail sauntering onto the stage. She sees him light up and she is tempted to give up, at least when it comes to him. But she comes to her senses. She will not bow down gracefully and let them steal the show, not without a fight.

It doesn’t matter that rehearsals continue, because they need twelve people, and things start to get complicated.

Because sometimes when she looks up and his dark eyes are looking at her, she thinks there is more between them.

It is not significant that he squeezes her hand before every performance, even though she has clearly stated that she does not get nervous. But she squeezes back and pretends that he isn’t holding hands with Mercedes and she isn’t also holding hands with Kurt, during their group circle.

It doesn’t matter that during a fleeting moment, she finds herself alone with him, and his hands are just lightly resting on her back, tentative. And he’s leaning in, he finally holds her closer and his warmth is seeping though. She shivers and her lips part, and the blood is rushing to her head. She can’t think straight. But they are interrupted and jump apart.

It doesn’t matter that maybe, just maybe, she thinks that because she convinced him to stay that very first day, it’s possible that she can get him to fall in love with her too…

But she knows it’s just wishful thinking.

Because every time the curtains fall back down and the lights flicker on, making her blink repeatedly, she is pulled into reality. She knows it’s all just a rehearsal for the big finale that never ends. No one ever dares to break character. And she is no exception. She tells herself it doesn’t matter that she cries because it hurts so much.
But no one will ever know, because this is her best role yet.