Little Duckling: 2/?
Chapter Rating: T because Santana just can't keep it clean...or in her pants.
Chapter Summary: Rachel Berry has hit Hollywood, but will she survive her first day on set with the elusive Quinn Lucas? Meanwhile: Quinn wonders why Rachel Berry Seems so familiar.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter One
Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter. I really am flattered by the compliments. This chapter, we get a little more into Lucy's transition to Quinn, Rachel's first day on the set, and a couple of scenes from Duty and Honor. Quinn also does some research on her new costar because she can't shake this feeling of familiarity.
And I feel like I have to explain this to avoid any confusion. The snippets of the movie that appear within the chapters don't necessarily correspond to the timeline of the story, i.e. Rachel and Quinn aren't necessarily filming the scenes at the same time they are appearing in the chapters. Basically, I'm using the movie snippets to emphasize a point in the plot. There will be times where Rachel and Quinn are filming a scene in "Real Time" but generally, it's a plot device to parallel the movie story with this story.
*2*
Lucy Fabray saw the Fabray family's move to San Diego as a chance to start completely over. In San Diego, no one knew who Lucy Fabray was. Better yet, no one knew who Lucy Caboosey was. It had taken hard work, patience, and a buttload of her father's money, but it had definitely paid off.
The first day of her sophomore year, Lucy looked at herself in her bedroom mirror. For the first time, she did not cringe at what she saw. A once overweight, frumpy body had slimmed and firmed, honed from three months of relentless exercise and healthy eating. She touched her nose, fresh from its rhinoplasty, rotating her head from side to side.
Lucy reached up, tightening the neat ponytail at the back of her skull, the strands flowing down her back now colored a sunny blonde. Her hazel eyes uncovered thanks to contacts, raked over her reflection, taking in the baby blue, white, and navy blue cheerleading uniform. Lucy would have never considered cheerleading in the past but the new Lucy saw it serving a dual purpose: keep herself in shape and solidify a position at the top of the social pyramid. Call her shallow, but it was a matter of survival; she learned that at Carmel. Naturally, she wasn't the peppiest person around but she could sure as hell fake it if it meant she would never be stuffed in another tuna fish-smelling locker again.
She shrugged. Go Warriors.
Grabbing her backpack, littered with patches depicting images and symbols of what was currently cool at the moment. Currently, her backpack boasted a Volcom diamond, a sunset of the California coast, a button that stated "I don't care what you say, Pluto is still a planet!" and a scarlet and gold nautical star prominent on the front pocket. Lucy trumped down the stairs, responding to the text from her cheer captain Cassidy Holland, also her ride for the morning. She slipped her arms through the matching jacket, fastening the buttons up. She slid into the kitchen, grabbing a muffin and filling her water bottle up with Gatorade from the fridge.
Judy Fabray looked up as her daughter breezed through the kitchen, hearing the insistent honking of a car outside. She was surprised on how persistent her daughter was in changing her image, but Judy couldn't be anything but supportive. She beamed as her slim, newly blonde Lucy grabbed a muffin. Judy held out a brown bag, kissing her daughter on the cheek.
"Oh, Luce, sweetie, you look wonderful!"
"Thanks, Mom," Lucy straightened, steeling her spine and gaze as she rotated towards the door. "Call me Quinn."
Quinn Lucas was used to turning heads. Ever since Lucy became Quinn, there was something about the girl that drew eyes to her. Perhaps it was the façade of cold aloofness, perhaps it was the aura of mystery surrounding her that no one had uncovered, perhaps it was the fact that she represented something completely untouchable to the mere human. Either way, Quinn Lucas was never bereft of attention.
As she cruised down the streets of Hollywood towards the Shaolin Studios lot, that effect was magnified tenfold with the car she maneuvered through the city. When she made it big, Quinn swore she wasn't going to be one of those stars who made some lavish, ostentatious purchase to show her emergence into the Hollywood elite. All those intentions flew out the proverbial window the moment she found out just how much money she had accumulated during the course of a 22-episode season. And her first big purchase? A Ferrari. A Ferrari California to be exact. Yeah, she was very well aware just how much dough she was dropping on a car, but no judging. It was validation for everyone who urged her to pursue a "normal" profession.
Yeah, whatever.
Quinn smirked as the guard to the lot checked her in at the gate then craned his neck as he let her through, watching the car zoom down the path. The formula was pretty simple: Hot Blonde + Hot Car = Epic Hotness
Quinn pulled into her parking spot on the studio lot, relishing in the Ferrari's superior handling. Grabbing her bag, coffee, and script, she exited the convertible and headed to her trailer. Today would be the first day she and her new costar shared a scene. It remained to be seen whether or not this would actually work. Still, she trusted Chris Keller. If he said it would, it would. She had faith in that.
* * *
Minutes earlier, a Range Rover SUV had entered the same gate, depositing Rachel, Santana, and Brittany onto the Shaolin lot. The trio made their way to before wandering back to explore their surroundings.
"Yeah, Berry, we sure as hell ain't in Kansas anymore."
"Speaking of," Rachel ventured absently. "Should I perhaps but a bug in Stephen Schwartz's ear that I am interested in playing Elphaba in the near future?"
Santana recoiled back in surprise. "What? Seriously?" She waved to the movie lot. "We're standing in the middle of a major production studio's movie lot while you're preparing to star in a blockbuster directed by the biggest name in Hollywood right now alongside America's current sweetheart, and you're thinking about your next job." As was her habit, Santana shifted to Spanish, beginning a rather emphatic tirade. "Estás loca. No sé por qué aguantar la mierda. Tal vez si usted justo al revés de la cabeza puede meter algo de sentido dentro de ti…"
"I'm just saying," Rachel defended, halting the bilingual rant. "You of all people know this business is a constant search for the next job. Every role is temporary, every contract runs out."
Santana snorted, still muttering slightly under her breath. Brittany turned to Rachel. "That's the one where you'd be painted green, right?"
Rachel nodded. "Yes, Brittany, I would aim to play the green-skinned witch."
Brittany frowned. "I get why people would be mean to her," she noted, twirling a lock of hair negligently around her finger. "Green's kind of a sicky color. Maybe if she was yellow, people might like her better. Yellow's a happy color, like sunshine and ducks."
Rachel grinned, reaching out to draw the third member of their trio into a side hug. "That reminds me, we should go feed the ducks at the park by the hotel later."
Brittany bounced as she rotated, throwing her arms around the petite brunette. "Awesome. Maybe they'll make San happier too. She's been super grumpy since we flew out here."
"I don't like flying," the Latina grumbled in return. "Something about being so high up scares the friggin' crap out of me." Something caught her eye, and Santana threw out an arm, pointing ahead. "Hey, check it out."
The trio stepped back as a sleek, wine red convertible literally roared into the parking lot, screeching to a stop in front of a sign designating the parking spot for Quinn Lucas.
"There's your lady love, Tiny." Santana whistled through her teeth as the blonde actress gracefully exited her car, slinging the strap to a messenger bag over her shoulder, grasping the thick script in one hand, a travel cup of coffee in the other. She embodied Hollywood chic with the large, mirrored sunglasses hiding her eyes from view, her comfortable wardrobe that toed the line between casually stylish and fashionably indifferent, and the aura of her commanding, magnetic presence drawing everyone in. Quinn Lucas shut the door to her convertible, locking the vehicle with a negligent push of her thumb before striding off towards her trailer.
"Damn, that's a nice car," Santana muttered. "She would be driving a freaking Ferrari."
Brittany glanced back at the car as they continued on. "The name even sounds expensive."
They stopped at the set where Chris Keller and company said they would all meet right before they were set to shoot their first scene. The large area was set up to look like a town square of Greensborough, Michigan, Sloane Gerard's fictional Midwestern hometown. A large gazebo was situated in the middle of the set with shops dotting around the street. Everything looked authentic and real, right down to the fake grass - immaculately manicured, of course - surrounding the gazebo.
Rachel looked around, taking in the set in all of its Hollywood elegance, the bright lights eclipsing those of Broadway just by a tad. "Santana…?"
Her manager had her head on a swivel. "Ye-ah?"
"Pinch me," Rachel breathed.
Santana's brow furrowed in confusion. "Huh?"
"Pinch me!"
Santana scowled. "The fuck? Why?"
"So I can be sure this isn't a dream. That's normally how the exchange goes…OW!" Rather than follow Rachel's direction and pinch her, the Latina had rolled her eyes, reaching towards Rachel's chest and twisting the closest nipple.
Rachel rubbed the abused body part, glaring at her best friend. "Yeah, that's definitely not where you're supposed to pinch."
"And I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to be treated with a two-hour dissertation on something that normally takes a sentence, but that's an unfortunate byproduct when you're around," Santana snarked back.
Always the mediator, Brittany stepped in before the pair could go off on one of their many bickering marathons and wrapped her arms around the Latina. "C'mon, San. We should grab Ray's tea while she's doing her stuff. I think I saw that Blue Bottle drip coffee you like so much too."
At the mention of her favorite coffee company - one that she often made a thirty-plus minute trip out to Brooklyn for - Santana brightened, following Brittany towards the craft service area, leaving Rachel to make her way to the hair and makeup trailer.
Not for the first time, Rachel sincerely doubted her own sanity, wondering what the hell possessed her to hire Santana Lopez as her manager.
* * *
Minutes later, fully dressed and ready for her scene, Rachel stood with Santana and Brittany beside Chris Keller and his production team as they waited for Quinn Lucas to get out of wardrobe.
Santana turned to Rachel, a small smirk playing across her features. "You know your lines?"
"Yes, Santana," Rachel responded absently, taking a sip of her herbal tea (with a touch of honey; habits were hard to break). "That is the benefit of a near-photographic memory such as the one I possess."
Santana smiled evilly. She may have grown out of the bullying she had quite the proclivity for during their younger years but Santana never missed a chance to mess with Rachel a little bit. It served the diva well, gave her a bit of iron to her chin. "Are you sure?"
Rachel rolled her eyes, responding exasperatedly, "Yes."
"Are you positive?" Santana pressed. "Because, you know, you wouldn't want to mess up a completely awesome chance to send the three of us into a life of luxury and excess…I mean, I could totally see me and Britts rollin' down Rodeo in a swank-ass Ferrari too." She turned to her girlfriend. "Whattya say, babe, light blue to match your eyes?"
Rachel whirled to her best friend, fists planted on her hips, dark eyes glittering dangerously. Her nerves were fried as was. "Santana!"
Santana crossed her arms, her expression stopping just short of a pout. "This time difference has seriously taken away your sense of humor, estrella."
Brittany giggled, draping herself across the Latina, laying her chin atop Santana's head. "Stop being mean to her, San," she chastised. "Ray looks like she's about to go kaboom. That would really screw things up. We kinda need her 'cause you can't act…like, at all."
"Can so," Santana argued.
Brittany shook her head. "No way. You may try to be all touchy and prickly, but anyone can see you're fluffy like a marshmallow or Mr. Duck."
Anyone one else would have been subjected to Santana's fiercest look. But it was Brittany…She looked at Rachel, seeing the little diva taking in her first big movie set, a soft smile lighting up her pretty features. Aw, what the hell? It wasn't like she was fooling either of her girls anyway.
"Hey, Tiny?"
"Yes, Santana?"
"I'm proud of you, you know."
Rachel beamed, leaning over to bump shoulders with her long time best friend. "Yeah, Santana, I do know."
Santana nodded, adopting a slight scowl. Just so long as they were all very aware: she was still a BAMF on any given day.
* * *
Quinn exited the wardrobe trailer, clad in the costume for the scene. As she made her way to the set, she slipped the olive green jacket on over the black, v-neck shirt molded to her leanly muscular frame. Fixing the collar, she pushed up her sleeves to lie right beneath her forearm, showing off the military-grade watch. Her costume was accessorized with a slim silver chain with an oval St. Christopher medallion paired with the crest of the Marine Corps resting in the dip of her shirt collar. They were going for the world-weary, hardened veteran persona for Sloane, and it was evident in the costuming. In many ways, Quinn felt like her character: world-weary and hardened to the world around her. Running a hand through her short hair, Quinn sighed heavily, striding on set.
Immediately, she spotted her new leading lady. Rachel Berry stood with Chris and the production team, a slender Latina, and a tall blonde. She was dressed in her costume for their scene in a light rose long-sleeved shirt layered with a black tank top. Quinn cocked an eyebrow as she noticed Rachel's slender legs, ones seemed way too long to be on such a petite body, encased in a pair of tight, skinny jeans, cute gray and black flats finishing the ensemble. Her dark hair was arranged in a side braid, held back by a headband. Well, one thing was certain, she wouldn't have to fake the physical attraction. The girl was…adorable.
Quinn smirked, observing her new costar from afar. It was obvious Rachel was nervous. There was a tension to her posture, an anticipation that seemed to make the tiny body vibrate. It seemed the girl had a healthy amount of fear in her. The slightly sick part of Quinn deemed that fact good. It would be a good sign if Rachel Berry could compartmentalize that fear and nervousness and still be able to perform. Well, time to make her entrance, she supposed. Squaring her shoulders, Quinn sauntered towards the group.
* * *
"Ah, there she is!"
Rachel turned her head to see Quinn Lucas heading their way and shuffled slightly, biting down the urge to fidget. She had to admit, she was a fan of the television star. One of the things she most admired was the way Quinn Lucas seemed to convey so much beyond her spoken lines in her subtle body language. Rachel took a deep breath as her counterpart approached, a definite swagger to her long, unhurried strides. For the first time in a long time, Rachel was suitably intimidated. Quinn radiated such a commanding aura that it was difficult not to cower slightly in her presence.
Rachel swallowed hard. Physically, Quinn was stunning. Tall and slender, she had a radiance about her that was undeniable. She glided towards them, a graceful swan amidst ungainly ducklings, pulsing with confidence and that Ice Queen vibe she had built quite a reputation for.
Chris swept an arm towards the blonde as she stopped a few paces in front of the group. Quinn's eyes were uncovered for the first time, and Rachel found herself ensnared by a pair of stunning hazel spheres the perfect mix of green, gold, and brown. Fighting a natural mannerism to tilt her head, Rachel gazed curiously into the beautiful multi-colored irises. Normally, one could see so much about another person if one looked in their eyes. With Quinn Lucas, there was nothing. It was like there was an iron curtain barring her from the woman behind.
"Quinn Lucas, Rachel Berry."
Snapped from her observations, Rachel cleared her throat, willing her voice not to come out as a squeak. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Lucas."
Quinn grasped the extended hand, not speaking for a beat. Finally, she offered a twitch of the mouth that Rachel supposed masqueraded as a smile.
"Quinn, please."
Rachel nodded. "Rachel then. I'm looking forward to working with you."
Quinn offered a short nod in return but didn't reciprocate verbally. Chris looked to his two leads hesitantly. He knew that Quinn wasn't the most open and welcoming person, so it was difficult to gauge how receptive she was to her new leading lady. Inwardly he shrugged. Well, they had time to cultivate that comfort level. With a smile, he motioned back to the set.
"Alright, ladies, now that you've met, let's make some magic."
* * *
Quinn didn't place much weight in first impressions, but she had to admit that the woman before her was amusing. Rachel Berry was obviously out of her comfort zone, indicated in the uncertainty in her posture, but Quinn could see that she hid it well. As she took her mark, standing a bit off to the side, Quinn continued to observe her new costar. The petite Broadway starlet was chatting with the two women Quinn had seen with her earlier. Quinn had never seen a pair so different. The Latina wasn't much taller than Rachel and she stood with her arms crossed, one hip jutted out almost defiantly. A scowl marred otherwise exotically beautiful face. By contrast, the tall blonde practically bounced in place a wide grin stretching across her pretty features. Idly, Quinn wondered who the two were in relation to Rachel.
A shout pierced her ruminations, and she looked to find Chris striding towards his chair. "Alright, everyone, let's do this."
Quinn cocked an eyebrow as she watched Rachel close her eyes and take a deep breath. As she let it out, the brunette rolled her head to one side, then the other. When those milk chocolate-colored spheres fluttered open again, Rachel was a completely different person. The hesitancy and trepidation had melted away from her posture she confidently strode to her mark. This wasn't the timid guppy being thrown into the shark pool. This was a seasoned performer who tackled a medium some might argue embodied the purity of the acting experience.
Around them, the crew bustled, setting up for the scene. Camera's moved to take their spots; microphones were lofted into the air. Every inch of the space had people occupying it in one way or another. It was organized chaos, but it was glorious. Voices rang throughout the set, a cacophony of noise that melded together.
"Places!"
"Marker!"
"Take 1."
"Camera 1, ready?"
"Hey, Mick, a bit to the right…yeah, that's good."
"Quiet on set!"
Chris Keller crossed one leg over the other, eyes fixated on the monitor in front of him. "ACTION!"
The smells emanating from the door drew her in like a moth to flame, and before she knew it, Sloane had eclipsed the threshold, hovering by the tables, looking at the displays. Everything looked so…good.
"You know, they taste even better than they look."
Sloane's head snapped up, and she found herself staring into a pair of brown eyes the richest shade of milk chocolate. She felt her jaw sag, her vision panning out to take in the gorgeous face and flowing, sepia-colored hair.
"But, you know, I am kind of biased." The woman had her arms braced on the surface of the display case, her chin resting atop them. "Can't very well say my own baking is bad." She tapped the glass to the case. "Can I get you anything?"
Sloane started from the beauty-induced coma. "Oh, uh, sorry. I was just curious." She gestured weakly to the sign outside the door. "This is new. Mike Brown's used to be here."
The brunette-locked head tilted slowly to the side and a prominent nose scrunched up cutely. "Yeah, but then Mike won the lottery then decided to retire to Coco Beach." Her face relaxed into a small smile, the effect like slowly melting chocolate. "Can't say I really blame him."
"Oh…yeah…" Sloane murmured lamely. "I, uh, didn't know that. It's been awhile since I've been back here." She stuck out a hand. "Sloane Gerard."
"Mia St. Claire." Mia reached over the glass top to shake the offering. "And eight years, five months, and twenty-two days to be exact," Mia recited. At Sloane's amused expression, Mia shrugged. "People talk when the prodigal daughter returns."
"Great," Sloane mumbled, eyes dropping down, hands sliding deeper into her pockets. "That's exactly what I didn't want to happen."
Again, that slow melting smile made an appearance as Mia arched an eyebrow. "Might have done you better not to have waltzed into town for the first time in eight years with the uniform then, huh?"
Unwittingly, Sloane returned the smile. It was nothing more than a mere quirk of the lips, but it was more than she had offered anyone since she had been back.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"CUT!"
Chris sounded wholly delighted. "Ladies, that was excellent." He rotated around the set, signaling to the camera crew. "I kind of want to get a few different angles with this one, but that was great."
Quinn looked to her costar, watching as the tiny brunette was swarmed with hair and makeup people touching her up for the next take. She had to admit Chris was right. That certainly was excellent. Rachel had embodied a character that was equal parts intriguing and engagingly adorable. She retained an aura of mystery about Mia St. Claire that made Quinn - as Sloane - want to uncover more behind the small smiles and the twinkling brown eyes.
There was an effortless, unforced chemistry that was lacking with Jennifer Wolfe. Rachel was a natural, engaging and open, unconsciously putting Quinn instantly at ease and coaxing just the right amount of reaction from the blonde. Jennifer had played Mia modestly seductive, which immediately put Quinn - and consequently Sloane - on edge. Rachel went a subtler route, gently teasing rather than coyly flirting. The result was a connection that laid down the foundation for something much more substantial, exactly what the scene was supposed to accomplish.
As the crew settled, lenses focused again on the set, Quinn took her mark, ready to immerse herself into the character of the hardened veteran Marine. This time, when Rachel Berry caught her eye, Quinn offered her a short nod.
"ACTION!"
* * *
As the morning melded to afternoon, then to evening, the cast and crew of Duty and Honor left the Shaolin lot very satisfied with the work accomplished. They had made wonderful headway, quickly reshooting the scenes featuring Jennifer Wolfe and making progress on a few new scenes. At the end of the day, the consensus was unanimous: the Broadway starlet was a hit. Rachel's take on the character had brought a refreshing dynamic to Mia St. Claire that had effectively charmed most who had witnessed her work.
Despite her earlier trepidation, Rachel had surprised many of those who doubted the Broadway implant would survive the change of mediums, Quinn included. She was both prepared and extremely professional, effortlessly delivering lines and hitting marks. Quinn and Rachel hadn't shared any more scenes, but Quinn had stuck around to see the reshoots of the scenes they had already filmed with Jennifer Wolfe. Rachel's final scene of the day paired her with Anson Blake who played the main protagonist of the film, the town Golden Boy, JJ McCoy. JJ was the type of guy who had never let go of his high school glory days, and Mia had the severe misfortune of enduring JJ's amorous advances. Quinn watched as Rachel took her mark, settling on a bench by the gazebo in the middle of the town square. A little ways away, Anson Blake, who played JJ, stood just beyond the camera's range.
It seemed to be a general understood fact that James McCoy, Jr. never walked anywhere. No, JJ strutted. He strutted with the self-imposed entitlement garnered by his father, Big Jim McCoy and Jim's financial successes within the Greensborough area. To be fair, JJ had his own reputation as Greensborough's Golden Boy, highlighted by his stellar performance in the conference championship game. They got killed, and JJ had been sacked a whopping seventeen times, but that game was the farthest any Greensborough team had gone. So, of course it meant something. And it did…in JJ's mind.
"Well, this ain't right." JJ leaned over the back of the bench to peer at Mia, trying to sneak a look down her shirt. "Pretty girl like you shouldn't be sittin' all by her lonesome."
Mia merely turned a page in her book. "Good afternoon, JJ."
JJ took the casual greeting as invitation to join the baker, and he vaulted over the back of the bench, settling in beside her. When she failed to notice his supremely athletic effort, he cleared his throat.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Well, the noon hour, my location outside the shop, and food around me would probably infer that I am enjoying my lunch time," Mia replied drolly.
"Oh," JJ nodded sagely. "Yeah, that's that deductive reasoning shit, right?"
"Very good, JJ. It seems that Greensborough High was not erring in its judgment by taking the time to impart the wisdom of critical thinking."
JJ had no idea what that meant. He pointed to the book. "Whatcha reading?"
"Indiana."
"Sweet." JJ nodded as though he knew what he was talking about. "Who wrote it?"
"George Sand."
"He any good?"
"She is marvelous," Mia asserted. "Quite progressive for her time."
"Wait, the chick's name is George?"
"It was her pseudonym," Mia explained. "She is actually Amantine Lucile Dupin, a French baroness who lived in the 1800s."
JJ looked bewildered. "What's a French lady doing writing about an American state?"
"The character's name is Indiana," Mia corrected. "Besides, I wouldn't think there would be much to write about as Indiana had only been a state for sixteen years when this novel was published."
"How do you know this stuff?"
Mia shrugged. "Picked it up here and there."
"I had one of your bear paw thingies this morning," JJ declared, abruptly changing the subject. "It was awesome. Like seriously…" he searched his brain for an adequate comparison, "farting rainbows awesome."
Mia looked bewildered at the allusion. Still, she mustered up a reply. "Thank you. I am going to assume that is a compliment of the highest regard."
"It is," JJ assured her, looking supremely pleased with himself. He waited, looking slightly disgruntled when Mia turned her attention back to her novel.
"So…"
"So…?"
"You and I?"
Mia returned the look, supremely nonplussed. JJ continued to look at her expectantly. Finally, she cocked an eyebrow. "Normally when one asks a question, JJ, one also lets the second party in on the subject matter."
"Huh?"
"I'm not psychic, JJ," Mia deadpanned. "You're going to have to tell me what you want me to know."
"Oh!" JJ puffed out his chest. "You and me. Dinner Friday."
Mia sighed, looking at her watch. "While I'm flattered, JJ, I'm not particularly interested in pursuing a relationship right now."
"I'll take that as a rain check."
Mia hummed, shooting JJ a noncommittal look as she snapped her book shut, standing and heading back to the bakery. "You do that."
As she watched Rachel work the scene, Quinn couldn't help but laugh. Rachel played Mia perfectly disinterested and completely oblivious to JJ's overt flirting. Mia offered JJ nothing more than noncommittal smiles with the occasional response humoring the former jock. Quinn had a feeling this wasn't the first time Rachel had dealt with a persistent, bumbling buffoon who thought too much of himself.
Leaving the set and heading back home, Quinn certainly had ample time to think about this new development on set. She had to admit Chris made a good call in casting the Broadway starlet. Rachel was impressive, surely. Time would only tell if she could handle the deeper emotions as well as the light-hearted moments. Pulling into her driveway, she entered the house, calling out to the lone occupant.
"Honey, I'm home!"
Quinn knelt down as a chocolate-furred blur barreled into her, nearly knocking her over in his exuberance. Wrestling with the large Labrador, she let out a giggle, avoiding the searching tongue.
"Hey, buddy! Did you miss me?"
Charlie answered with a series of barks, running circles around his mistress, leaping in glee.
"I missed you too, bub." Quinn retreated to her bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. She turned around to find Charlie nosing his favorite tennis ball her way and laughed. "Alright, you monster, let's go play."
An hour later, after Charlie had run himself rampant along the beach, Quinn sat down on her favorite log, staring out into the horizon.
"It was a good day today, Charlie," Quinn told her dog as he laid his head down on her knee. "I met my new costar, and she's very, very good."
Charlie made a questioning rumble, eyes turning towards her.
"Yeah, I know, shocking that I would admit something like that, but she really is. Miles better than Jennifer Wolfe ever was." Quinn ran an absent hand through the fur atop Charlie's head. "She got stuff out of me, gestures and emotions that seemed to almost deepen the character. It was impressive. She was impressive."
Charlie barked his approval.
Quinn frowned. "I wonder what her background is. Chris said she was a Broadway implant but nothing much else…" Standing decisively, she hitched her head back to the house. "I'm gonna do some snooping. C'mon, Charlie, let's see who this Rachel Berry is, huh?"
Charlie bounded after her, barking excitedly. Traipsing into the living room, he settled himself on his cushion, waiting expectantly for his mistress to join him. Quinn chuckled, scratching behind his ears as she passed. Swiping the remote from the top of the mantle, she grabbed her laptop, flopping down on the couch.
With SportsCenter blaring in the background - she had to check up on the highlights of the Charger game and her favorite player, their electric middle linebacker dubbed The Hit Man by the press and fans - Quinn reclined back on her sofa, her laptop propped up on her knees. She brought up a window featuring Google and entered in Rachel's name.
The search results were surprising. Naturally, the majority of the results yielded some sort of Broadway-centered theme, but Quinn could see a few secular publications as well. Quinn clicked on Rachel's Wikipedia page, which was unexpectedly detailed. Name, birthdate, general information…nothing too crazy. But she wasn't about to trust a Wikipedia page to tell her everything about her new costar.
Going back to the search results, she scrolled through the YouTube clips, seeing performances, interviews, and Rachel's Tony acceptance speech, making a mental note to return to watch those some other time.
Scanning over the top results, she clicked on the link that had the most hits. To his surprise, it was an article on the Broadway starlet. A glossy picture highlighted the top, Rachel's headshot if she wasn't mistaken. Snuggling into the couch cushions, one hand stroking Charlie's fur, Quinn settled down to read the article.
Broadway Spotlight On:
RACHEL BERRY
There are many ways an actor prepares for their big Broadway break. It's more than picking apart a star's brain, religiously studying audition pieces and running scales, or immersing oneself in all facets of the business - an actor best prepares by believing in herself and being open to anything. And having a little luck on your side doesn't hurt, either.
This business is also about perseverance and taking risks. You know, the whole, "leap of faith." Okay, okay, okay, maybe that's a LITTLE clichéd and trite, and you've heard it quite often, but it's true - so true. And in an industry as cutthroat and competitive as performing arts, it's no secret that sometimes the harder your goal is to achieve, the more you WANT it. It's the talent, the competition and the stomach butterflies that make it so great.
Rachel Berry, 24, knows all about wanting it. She's wanted it since the first moment baby steps became dance steps. Ever since her first viewing of Funny Girl, Rachel Berry has known she wanted to be on stage. Currently appearing in the blockbuster musical about the modern woman looking for love in all the wrong places, Rachel Berry is making the most of her Broadway debut. But she is far from ignorant about the tenuous road that got her to where she is now.
Berry, who grew up in Lima, Ohio, a tiny town ten minutes away from the bigger Akron, knew exactly what sort of risk she was taking in making Broadway her dream. "I came from a tiny town where most people are content with staying there their entire lives," she divulges. "It's rare to find people who make it out of Lima, and it's even more rare to find someone who's made it out of Ohio. Being from where I was, I knew that I had small-town disadvantage."
Berry admits that the road to her goal wasn't the easiest. "I had an almost single-minded intensity that often put-off people," she admits. "Especially during my teen years where everyone was still trying to find themselves, I had always known what I wanted to do. It was hard for my peers to deal with that. At times, I wasn't the most popular person." Berry never wavered, however. And despite the naysayers, she kept firm in her direction. "I knew that if I put in the work and kept the big picture in mind, fruition would eventually come."
And fruition did come, even before Berry received her diploma. While she was working her way through upper-level courses at New York University's Tisch School of the Arts, auditions came for the revival of a well-loved Broadway smash. Berry caught the eye of the production team fairly early. "They were looking for pretty much the epitome of an ingénue," she remembers. "The producers had heard about me from one of my professors. They gave me a call and offered me an audition." As easy as the initial offer was, the process itself was far from smooth sailing. "I think I went in for like five auditions," says Berry. "It would alternate between acting and dancing and singing, the same songs over and over. I'd read with dozens of Jimmys, sing with different prospects, dance with such a blur of revolving people. I kinda agonized whether or not I was cut out for this show before they told me I had gotten the part." It was an emotional moment for Berry the moment she found out she would be originating the role of the musical's thoroughly modern woman. "I cried when I heard the news. After all the adversity I had been through, all the doubt and agony, all the anger and frustration, everything seemed to be worth it. I was employed!"
At the tender age of 23, Rachel Berry made her Broadway debut as Millie Dillmount. A year into the production, however, she is still hesitant to brand herself as a bona fide Broadway starlet despite what the critics claim. "I don't think I'll do that until I have a few more shows under my belt," Berry admits. "I think that will be my moment of completion. Anyone can appear on Broadway once. It takes a bit more to establish yourself and maintain staying power. This is was where I am meant to be, but I don't think I'll be completely satisfied until I build a consistent reputation. Only then will I claim I've made it."
With poise like Rachel Berry's, it difficult to think this is a young woman in her Broadway debut rather than a veteran. It's certainly not an easy task to break into this world, and Berry is also incredibly grateful to her family for being so supportive of her decision to pursue this line of work. Some families may hesitate with such a decision, giving the rather unpredictable nature of show business in general, but Berry found himself with a very emphatic fanclub from the beginning. "I come from a rather…interesting family," she admits. "I was raised by two gay fathers, but my surrogate mother was also in my life. All three supported me." While support came easily from fathers Miles and Isaac Berry, it was a bit more difficult for her mother, Shelby Corcoran, to jump on the bandwagon, however. "My mother experienced the worst this business had to offer," Berry admits. "She lived through the rejections and people telling her she wasn't good enough. She was hesitant in tainting this castle in the sky I had cultivated in my mind and exposing me to the harsher side of Broadway and show business." In the end, however, Shelby supported her daughter in pursuing her dream. "My mom and I had a heart to heart," Berry explains. "There were a lot of tears and a lot of hugging, but we worked through it."
When asked what Rachel's goals are for the future, she remains optimistic and open-minded, but, as what has proven to be characteristic with the dominant part of her multi-faceted personality, she voices her ambitions with the single-minded passion and hard-charging assertiveness that has taken her to the head of the pack of Broadway's latest up-and-comers. "I want a Tony," she declares definitively. "Awards are just window dressing, but I would be lying if I deny that a Tony wouldn't be awesome. I don't care when; I don't care how. But I think that would be the best thing that could possibly happen in terms of materialistic aspirations." She shrugs. "Other than that, just a gratifying, long career would be great." When asked if she would ever appear in movies or film, Berry smiles and shrugs again. "I wouldn't say no," she answers honestly. "But my heart has always been in New York. I love this city; I love Broadway. It's like my North Star. I'll always find my way back." So, in other words, Broadway does not have to worry about losing its new, talented starlet. "It took a lot to get me here," she jokes affably. "Now that I've actually made it, it's gonna take a lot to get me away."
As she finished, Quinn couldn't quite escape the nagging feeling that had been pestering her since she had met Rachel earlier in the day.
She perused the article again. Rachel had grown up in Lima. That wasn't too far from Akron, the city where Carmel was. They had Ohio in common. Interesting. There was else something about the Broadway diva that struck a chord within her. Her mannerisms, the way she spoke, Quinn couldn't help but think that she had experienced it before. It was almost…familiar.
"Rachel Barbra Berry," she muttered. "Why can't I shake you?"
Quinn jumped as Charlie's head suddenly appeared in her eyesight, something firmly clenched in his teeth.
"What's up, Charlie?" Quinn frowned at the keys he had dropped in her lap, his nose nudging the star on her keychain. Sitting up, he gave her an expectant look and a sharp bark. Quinn picked up her keys with a frown, tossing them back to the coffee table. "Bud, we just went out to the beach. You wanna go somewhere else now?"
The chocolate Labrador just whined and bowed his head down, covering his eyes with a paw. Humans…
* * *
Rachel bounced back to her trailer, pleased with her performance. She burst through the door, only to jump back with a shriek. "Oh, sweet Barbra!"
A tide of giggles washed through the two perched on her couch as they untangled themselves from their intimate embrace.
"Lo siento, Tiny," Santana choked out between her giggles. "We got bored on set."
"Yeah," Brittany piped up. "After like the fifth time, I realized you were totally saying the same words."
"Guys, come on!" Rachel whined, stomping her foot as Brittany and Santana put on their discarded bras and shirts. "At least let me be the one to christen my own trailer."
Santana snorted with a toss of her head, and she opened her mouth to deliver a scathing retort.
Seeing the gesture, Rachel held up a hand, knowing exactly where Santana was going to go with the ready insult. "Don't, San…"
"What?" Santana grumbled, pouting for her lost opportunity. "It wasn't going to be that bad. I'd rate it about a four on the Meanness Scale. I'm feeling generous."
"I don't get why you don't get along," Rachel sighed, hands planted on her hips.
"Because he's a parasite who has an ulterior motive," Santana shot back. "And he's a no-talent hack who deserves to be background scenery." She crossed her arms. "I still have no idea how he managed to bag a lead role…"
"And he was mean to both Reno and Lord Tubbington," Brittany added. "So not cool."
Rachel sighed again at the singular contentious point between her and the girls. She decided to cut her losses while she could.
"C'mon. We have a car service, let's take advantage of it. Let's celebrate my first successful day on set."
Santana eyed her. "You buying first round?"
Rachel shrugged. "Why the hell not…I killed it today and I have a late call time tomorrow. Let's be a cliché and spend the night partying."
Santana brightened, shooting up from the couch and tugging Brittany along. "Sweet! I love Hollywood."
Rachel chuckled, following her two best friends out of her trailer. Yes, Hollywood was pretty amazing…
Spanish translations, courtesy of Google Translate:
Estás loca. No sé por qué aguantar la mierda. Tal vez si usted justo al revés de la cabeza puede meter algo de sentido dentro de ti: You're crazy. Maybe if I smack you upside the head it might knock some sense into you.
Estrella: star
Lo siento: I'm sorry
And there we go! Hope you all enjoyed this installment. Up next, we get a Rachel-centered flashback. Quinn makes a conscious effort to get to know Rachel - maybe opening up a bit more in the process. Quinn's feeling of familiarity also deepens, and there will be more hijinks on the Duty and Honor set.
I'm glad you also like the flashbacks. I plan on using them pretty regularly, paralleling them to what happens in the story. That way, I can give you a bit of background while still teasing you on how it all connects.
As always, thanks for reading and let me know what you think!
*ISP