We Are Going to Make It: Chapter 1/16
Title: We Are Going to Make It 1/16
Author: emmelia24
Rating: PG, nothing happens yet but it will definitely change.
Pairing: Quinn Fabray and Sam Evans, eventually Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. This is purely and simply fiction. The characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy and a bunch of other people I do not know.
Summary: Future!fic. Quinn and Rachel’s lives have not turned out the way they had dreamed they would.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for the lovely comments on chapter 1! I honestly didn’t think so many people who have read it or even found it but you guys did. This chapter again doesn’t have too much action but if you’ve read me before you know that means we are building up to something so hang in there. Comments and reviews are more than welcome!! I love to hear from you guys! Thank you!
A cool breeze tickled Quinn Fabray’s exposed neck as she felt herself being dragged down Main Street.
It must have been negative three degrees outside because the blonde’s feet were numb five minutes after she exited the car and now her nose was redder than her old Cheerio’s uniform.
“Mom, this is stupid. I hate plays,” she scowled as she pulled her coat tighter onto her body.
The older blonde simply ignored the malice in her daughter’s voice and continued to pull her to the Lima Community Theater. Apparently the two had not been spending enough “quality time” together since Quinn and Sam moved back home from college and this was her mother’s grand scheme to rekindle her love with her daughter.
Quinn had to give her mother credit, though. She was trying, truly trying, to make things right. After she had kicked Mr. Fabray out Quinn’s junior year, Quinn didn’t dread going home. She looked forward to movie nights on Sunday and dinners home cooked by her mother. After she had just stood idly by as her husband kicked out her youngest daughter, Judy made it her mission to regain Quinn’s trust; she had, mostly, but now and then she felt it necessary to go on little outings to make sure things were still alright.
“Quinnie, you love shows! Don’t lie to me, I found that poster of Le Miserable’s in your closet a few months ago. You are going to love this!” she linked her arm with Quinn’s and squeezed softly, “If you don’t we can go eat dinner at Breadstix. Would you like that, honey?”
Quinn sighed. How could she turn down dinner at Breadstix?
“Fine, but I swear if it is Oklahoma, I’m out!”
Her mother laughed.
“I knew you liked plays!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
Quinn rolled her eyes but smiled because she hadn’t known that her mother actually knew her, or knew her well enough that she had a secret love for plays. In high school, she collected CD’s and posters from different shows. She would never admit this to anyone, of course, but somehow her mother figured it out despite her efforts to hide it.
For Quinn, going to a show was a more than magical experience. She had been to a handful in her life, mainly on her own, and never attended one, aside from Oklahoma, that she did not love. In California she had adored Le Miserable’s and in New York she fell in love with Spring Awakening. At each show she attended, there were always those initial preshow jitters. Her stomach would fill with anxious and hyper butterflies and her heart would pound faster. Then, as soon as the curtain was drawn, the blonde was beaming in the darkened theater. To say seeing a play is magical is often an understatement, especially for the blonde.
The continued down the street, looking at different shop windows decked out in holiday lights and decorations. Snow was covering the sidewalk, and Quinn’s boots left footprints in the white layer of ice. It was Saturday night and instead of going to the bar with Santana and Brittany she was with her mother, going to see a play. Head Bitch in Charge Quinn would be pissed off, but this Quinn, the real Quinn, had butterflies she was so excited. Shows always got her excited.
They arrived at the door to the theater and Mrs. Fabray showed the doorman their tickets.
“Enjoy the show!” the cheery old man said as he held the door open for the two blondes.
***
A young woman of twenty-five sat looking confidently at her reflection in the mirror. She noted the way her cheekbones were more defined than her teenage years, how the make up woman had accentuated her dark brown eyes. As she inhaled and let out a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Five minutes to show time,” the stage manager called through the intercom.
Rachel Berry’s eyes flew open and she got up out of her chair. This was the moment she was waiting for. She had done the show at least thirty times that winter in rehearsal and then another ten from opening week. It was her eleventh show and she was more than ready. It was her favorite musical and her idol had played her part. She was ready, more than ready.
Her eyes darted back to the mirror and she scanned herself up and down, making sure she was perfect for her performance. She nodded, approving of her appearance.
“I’m ready,” she whispered to herself and quickly exited her dressing room.
She walked down the busy hallway, her heels clicking as she made her way to the stage. People were bustling around, some carrying costumes, others wearing black headsets. The brunette cleared them out of her head and concentrated on the performance ahead.
Rachel walked onto the stage, the curtain down, and stopped at her mark. She drew in another deep breath and looked over at her fellow cast mates. They were standing in a perfectly straight line and she smiled. All of them smiled back and her heart was pounding rapidly as she anticipated the starting notes. There was nothing like the thrill of performing.
The buzz of the crowd rang in the actors’ ears as they awaited the curtain’s opening. Suddenly, the buzz stopped, and the theater was silent. The piano struck its first chords and the curtain slowly opened. A smile graced the brunette’s face; she belonged on the stage. She was home.
***
The curtain opened and all eyes laid on the stage in front of them. Quinn’s heart was beating faster as she heard the opening notes. This was her favorite musical, even if it was probably going to be butchered by a mediocre cast in a more than mediocre theater. That didn’t stop her from getting butterflies as the piano sang.
Then, right in front of her eyes, there stood eight figures in a straight line. The lights were dimmed, the actors’ faces not yet visible. Suddenly, each figure was illuminated by the spotlight. They began singing, their voices echoing throughout the moderately filled theater. Quinn’s eyes surveyed the stage, pausing at each character. There was Mark dressed in his signature sweater and striped scarf. He had the orange hair and the sweet face to match. She moved to the next figure, a young Latino who stared out into the audience with his chocolate brown eyes. Her eyes continued down the line and immediately froze on a short woman, the woman she assumed was playing Maureen. As she gazed at the woman, her heart sped up even faster as she noted her defined cheekbones, her shimmering brown locks, and her curved nose.
Then it hit her. As the cast proceeded with the number, Quinn viciously grabbed her purse and ripped it open. Her hand fumbled in the dark for her cell phone; a few seconds later the device was in her hand and she pulled out her program from her pocket. As quietly as she could, Quinn flipped through the booklet, searching for the cast list.
Mark Cohen played by Zachary Cohen
Roger Davis played by Liam Kramer
Mimi Márquez played by Julia Soto
Angel Dumott Schunard played by James Turner
Maureen Johnson played by Rachel Barbra Berry
Quinn’s heart stopped. Could this be true? No, that couldn’t be Rachel Berry. The Rachel Berry she remembered was awkward, far from attractive, had a huge nose, was extremely obnoxious and had a personality that made her want to light herself on fire.
The woman she saw on that rundown stage was…beautiful, poised, and elegant. Her features were beautifully defined, her nose fitting her now matured face. The girl’s eyes were as deep as a chocolate sea, the swirls causing Quinn to lose herself in the midst of the color. She had clear lightly tanned skin that shimmered in the spot-
What the hell am I thinking?
No, this could not be Rachel Berry. She was supposed to end up on Broadway. She was supposed to be a successful actor in New York, not a mediocre one in Ohio. It must be some sort of freak typo. Maybe she was hallucinating; had her mother drugged the coffee she had bought her on the way here?
Pull yourself together.
Quinn took a deep breath and brought her attention back to the stage. Her eyes immediately landed on the brunette. Their eyes met, brown melding with hazel in an explosion of emotion; the smaller girl faltered slightly. Quinn’s hands became sweaty, her heart pounding louder. She covered her chest with her shaking clammy hands in an effort to muffle the sound ringing in her ears.
The brunette composed herself and managed a small, barely noticeable to the average audience, but bright smile aimed towards a particular blonde, inducing the girl’s now third heart attack of the evening.
That was definitely Rachel Berry.
***
Rachel darted off stage into her dressing room. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins as she breathed heavily in and out. As always, a bouquet of flowers was sitting at her dresser with a card.
*Congratulations, Rach. You are amazing, baby.
Love,
Dad and Daddy*
Her heart swelled. She was so lucky to have parents like her fathers, parents who loved her and supported her regardless. The past few years had been rough for the young ingénue.
In high school she had obviously applied to NYU’s acting school and Julliard, those were simply a given. She had spent hours making sure her audition tapes were picture perfect. Every detail was planned down to the pictures in the background and the pin she wore on her burgundy sweater. Her entire life had been dedicated towards getting onto Broadway, being a performer.
She applied for a bunch of schools, but her heart was set on Julliard. It was her dream school and would mare her and even more brilliant performer than she already was. Each day during the week she was to find out, she stalked her mailman, begging him for a letter he did not have. Then, one day, the letter came. Rachel had practically tackled the poor man before running inside to show her parents. They sat in the family and watched Rachel dramatically and slowly open the letter she knew would tell her that she was attending one of the most prestigious music schools in the country.
Her fingers ran over the envelope and finally she ripped it open. As her eyes scanned the paper in her shaking hands, her facial expression froze. It was not an acceptance letter. She hadn’t gotten in. She looked over to her fathers, the tears spilling over her chocolate brown eyes, and they knew what had happened. Within two seconds they were hugging her telling her it was going to be okay; but Rachel didn’t think it could be okay if she wasn’t in Julliard. How would she make it to Broadway if she didn’t go there?
The next few months were filled with crying, anger, and more than anything a loss of motivation. Glee club became a chore as did school. She still sang and attended every rehearsal but she didn’t see the point in it anymore. By the end of her senior year it had been decided that she would be going to Columbia in New York. She was still excited to see the big apple, but her heart was screaming for her to go to Julliard.
College for Rachel was a good experience. She had made friends and had met up with Kurt a few times but no one besides him and Finn had known where she was attending. While she was at school she auditioned for plays, mainly off Broadway ones; she only got into one and it was disastrous. She was an extra, not even one line, and no one came to see it.
Rachel worked hard for four years, training to become an even better singer and actress; but for some reason it hadn’t paid off. During her last year at Columbia, she got up the nerve to audition for a Broadway show. She filled out her application and went in on a cool spring day. In her mind, her audition was flawless. There were some nerves but over all she knew what she was doing. They told her they would call her by the next day to tell her if she got a call back or not. Of course the brunette spent the entire day staring at her cell phone, willing it to ring, willing the person on the other end of the line to tell her she had a chance.
Then it finally rang. She grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
Her hands were choking the plastic phone and her heart was in her throat.
“Hello, Ms. Berry. I am sorry to inform you that you have not received a call back. Thank you for your time and we look forward to seeing you audition in the future.”
Rejection. That was what had driven Rachel Berry straight back to Ohio, the place where she had been great. She hadn’t been accepted necessarily but people knew she was talented and sometimes they told her. Glee Club made her a star, maybe even a little arrogant; but never had she been rejected like this. Not even a call back? Were they insane? It was something she couldn’t get over. She couldn’t will herself to stay in New York.
So she ran back home to her parents, got a job at the community theater and auditioned for their shows, earning a major role each time. Now she was doing Rent, one of her and her parents all time favorite shows. Every time she was onstage she still felt that thrill, the adrenaline.
Tonight’s show was different than the other ones. There was something different she was feeling but she couldn’t put her finger on it. When she was up there singing and dancing, she felt like someone was watching her with such intensity that she could feel their stare. Then in the opening number, when she could see the audience, she had made eye contact with a blonde. She had clear pale skin and beautiful bone structure; but that wasn’t what made Rachel smile at the blonde stranger; it was her hazel eyes.
“How’s my little star?” an excited voice exclaimed, ripping Rachel away from her thoughts.
She ran into her dad’s arms and hugged him tightly.
“Thank you, Dad, but I am no star. This is no Broadway.”
He kissed her on the cheek.
“You are my star, no matter where you perform. Come; let’s go meet your fans, shall we?”
Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag before skipping out with her father. They were greeted with a medium sized crowd. Her eyes skimmed the group, looking for people to notice her.
Suddenly, she met another’s stare and was bombarded with those hazel eyes. As they stared, her heart began to race. She looked familiar. It was something about those hazel eyes, the way her blonde locks fell to her shoulders. She wondered how it would look in a ponytail…
Then it hit her.
That blonde was Quinn Fabray.
Author: emmelia24
Rating: PG, nothing happens yet but it will definitely change.
Pairing: Quinn Fabray and Sam Evans, eventually Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. This is purely and simply fiction. The characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy and a bunch of other people I do not know.
Summary: Future!fic. Quinn and Rachel’s lives have not turned out the way they had dreamed they would.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for the lovely comments on chapter 1! I honestly didn’t think so many people who have read it or even found it but you guys did. This chapter again doesn’t have too much action but if you’ve read me before you know that means we are building up to something so hang in there. Comments and reviews are more than welcome!! I love to hear from you guys! Thank you!
A cool breeze tickled Quinn Fabray’s exposed neck as she felt herself being dragged down Main Street.
It must have been negative three degrees outside because the blonde’s feet were numb five minutes after she exited the car and now her nose was redder than her old Cheerio’s uniform.
“Mom, this is stupid. I hate plays,” she scowled as she pulled her coat tighter onto her body.
The older blonde simply ignored the malice in her daughter’s voice and continued to pull her to the Lima Community Theater. Apparently the two had not been spending enough “quality time” together since Quinn and Sam moved back home from college and this was her mother’s grand scheme to rekindle her love with her daughter.
Quinn had to give her mother credit, though. She was trying, truly trying, to make things right. After she had kicked Mr. Fabray out Quinn’s junior year, Quinn didn’t dread going home. She looked forward to movie nights on Sunday and dinners home cooked by her mother. After she had just stood idly by as her husband kicked out her youngest daughter, Judy made it her mission to regain Quinn’s trust; she had, mostly, but now and then she felt it necessary to go on little outings to make sure things were still alright.
“Quinnie, you love shows! Don’t lie to me, I found that poster of Le Miserable’s in your closet a few months ago. You are going to love this!” she linked her arm with Quinn’s and squeezed softly, “If you don’t we can go eat dinner at Breadstix. Would you like that, honey?”
Quinn sighed. How could she turn down dinner at Breadstix?
“Fine, but I swear if it is Oklahoma, I’m out!”
Her mother laughed.
“I knew you liked plays!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
Quinn rolled her eyes but smiled because she hadn’t known that her mother actually knew her, or knew her well enough that she had a secret love for plays. In high school, she collected CD’s and posters from different shows. She would never admit this to anyone, of course, but somehow her mother figured it out despite her efforts to hide it.
For Quinn, going to a show was a more than magical experience. She had been to a handful in her life, mainly on her own, and never attended one, aside from Oklahoma, that she did not love. In California she had adored Le Miserable’s and in New York she fell in love with Spring Awakening. At each show she attended, there were always those initial preshow jitters. Her stomach would fill with anxious and hyper butterflies and her heart would pound faster. Then, as soon as the curtain was drawn, the blonde was beaming in the darkened theater. To say seeing a play is magical is often an understatement, especially for the blonde.
The continued down the street, looking at different shop windows decked out in holiday lights and decorations. Snow was covering the sidewalk, and Quinn’s boots left footprints in the white layer of ice. It was Saturday night and instead of going to the bar with Santana and Brittany she was with her mother, going to see a play. Head Bitch in Charge Quinn would be pissed off, but this Quinn, the real Quinn, had butterflies she was so excited. Shows always got her excited.
They arrived at the door to the theater and Mrs. Fabray showed the doorman their tickets.
“Enjoy the show!” the cheery old man said as he held the door open for the two blondes.
***
A young woman of twenty-five sat looking confidently at her reflection in the mirror. She noted the way her cheekbones were more defined than her teenage years, how the make up woman had accentuated her dark brown eyes. As she inhaled and let out a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Five minutes to show time,” the stage manager called through the intercom.
Rachel Berry’s eyes flew open and she got up out of her chair. This was the moment she was waiting for. She had done the show at least thirty times that winter in rehearsal and then another ten from opening week. It was her eleventh show and she was more than ready. It was her favorite musical and her idol had played her part. She was ready, more than ready.
Her eyes darted back to the mirror and she scanned herself up and down, making sure she was perfect for her performance. She nodded, approving of her appearance.
“I’m ready,” she whispered to herself and quickly exited her dressing room.
She walked down the busy hallway, her heels clicking as she made her way to the stage. People were bustling around, some carrying costumes, others wearing black headsets. The brunette cleared them out of her head and concentrated on the performance ahead.
Rachel walked onto the stage, the curtain down, and stopped at her mark. She drew in another deep breath and looked over at her fellow cast mates. They were standing in a perfectly straight line and she smiled. All of them smiled back and her heart was pounding rapidly as she anticipated the starting notes. There was nothing like the thrill of performing.
The buzz of the crowd rang in the actors’ ears as they awaited the curtain’s opening. Suddenly, the buzz stopped, and the theater was silent. The piano struck its first chords and the curtain slowly opened. A smile graced the brunette’s face; she belonged on the stage. She was home.
***
The curtain opened and all eyes laid on the stage in front of them. Quinn’s heart was beating faster as she heard the opening notes. This was her favorite musical, even if it was probably going to be butchered by a mediocre cast in a more than mediocre theater. That didn’t stop her from getting butterflies as the piano sang.
Then, right in front of her eyes, there stood eight figures in a straight line. The lights were dimmed, the actors’ faces not yet visible. Suddenly, each figure was illuminated by the spotlight. They began singing, their voices echoing throughout the moderately filled theater. Quinn’s eyes surveyed the stage, pausing at each character. There was Mark dressed in his signature sweater and striped scarf. He had the orange hair and the sweet face to match. She moved to the next figure, a young Latino who stared out into the audience with his chocolate brown eyes. Her eyes continued down the line and immediately froze on a short woman, the woman she assumed was playing Maureen. As she gazed at the woman, her heart sped up even faster as she noted her defined cheekbones, her shimmering brown locks, and her curved nose.
Then it hit her. As the cast proceeded with the number, Quinn viciously grabbed her purse and ripped it open. Her hand fumbled in the dark for her cell phone; a few seconds later the device was in her hand and she pulled out her program from her pocket. As quietly as she could, Quinn flipped through the booklet, searching for the cast list.
Mark Cohen played by Zachary Cohen
Roger Davis played by Liam Kramer
Mimi Márquez played by Julia Soto
Angel Dumott Schunard played by James Turner
Maureen Johnson played by Rachel Barbra Berry
Quinn’s heart stopped. Could this be true? No, that couldn’t be Rachel Berry. The Rachel Berry she remembered was awkward, far from attractive, had a huge nose, was extremely obnoxious and had a personality that made her want to light herself on fire.
The woman she saw on that rundown stage was…beautiful, poised, and elegant. Her features were beautifully defined, her nose fitting her now matured face. The girl’s eyes were as deep as a chocolate sea, the swirls causing Quinn to lose herself in the midst of the color. She had clear lightly tanned skin that shimmered in the spot-
What the hell am I thinking?
No, this could not be Rachel Berry. She was supposed to end up on Broadway. She was supposed to be a successful actor in New York, not a mediocre one in Ohio. It must be some sort of freak typo. Maybe she was hallucinating; had her mother drugged the coffee she had bought her on the way here?
Pull yourself together.
Quinn took a deep breath and brought her attention back to the stage. Her eyes immediately landed on the brunette. Their eyes met, brown melding with hazel in an explosion of emotion; the smaller girl faltered slightly. Quinn’s hands became sweaty, her heart pounding louder. She covered her chest with her shaking clammy hands in an effort to muffle the sound ringing in her ears.
The brunette composed herself and managed a small, barely noticeable to the average audience, but bright smile aimed towards a particular blonde, inducing the girl’s now third heart attack of the evening.
That was definitely Rachel Berry.
***
Rachel darted off stage into her dressing room. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins as she breathed heavily in and out. As always, a bouquet of flowers was sitting at her dresser with a card.
*Congratulations, Rach. You are amazing, baby.
Love,
Dad and Daddy*
Her heart swelled. She was so lucky to have parents like her fathers, parents who loved her and supported her regardless. The past few years had been rough for the young ingénue.
In high school she had obviously applied to NYU’s acting school and Julliard, those were simply a given. She had spent hours making sure her audition tapes were picture perfect. Every detail was planned down to the pictures in the background and the pin she wore on her burgundy sweater. Her entire life had been dedicated towards getting onto Broadway, being a performer.
She applied for a bunch of schools, but her heart was set on Julliard. It was her dream school and would mare her and even more brilliant performer than she already was. Each day during the week she was to find out, she stalked her mailman, begging him for a letter he did not have. Then, one day, the letter came. Rachel had practically tackled the poor man before running inside to show her parents. They sat in the family and watched Rachel dramatically and slowly open the letter she knew would tell her that she was attending one of the most prestigious music schools in the country.
Her fingers ran over the envelope and finally she ripped it open. As her eyes scanned the paper in her shaking hands, her facial expression froze. It was not an acceptance letter. She hadn’t gotten in. She looked over to her fathers, the tears spilling over her chocolate brown eyes, and they knew what had happened. Within two seconds they were hugging her telling her it was going to be okay; but Rachel didn’t think it could be okay if she wasn’t in Julliard. How would she make it to Broadway if she didn’t go there?
The next few months were filled with crying, anger, and more than anything a loss of motivation. Glee club became a chore as did school. She still sang and attended every rehearsal but she didn’t see the point in it anymore. By the end of her senior year it had been decided that she would be going to Columbia in New York. She was still excited to see the big apple, but her heart was screaming for her to go to Julliard.
College for Rachel was a good experience. She had made friends and had met up with Kurt a few times but no one besides him and Finn had known where she was attending. While she was at school she auditioned for plays, mainly off Broadway ones; she only got into one and it was disastrous. She was an extra, not even one line, and no one came to see it.
Rachel worked hard for four years, training to become an even better singer and actress; but for some reason it hadn’t paid off. During her last year at Columbia, she got up the nerve to audition for a Broadway show. She filled out her application and went in on a cool spring day. In her mind, her audition was flawless. There were some nerves but over all she knew what she was doing. They told her they would call her by the next day to tell her if she got a call back or not. Of course the brunette spent the entire day staring at her cell phone, willing it to ring, willing the person on the other end of the line to tell her she had a chance.
Then it finally rang. She grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
Her hands were choking the plastic phone and her heart was in her throat.
“Hello, Ms. Berry. I am sorry to inform you that you have not received a call back. Thank you for your time and we look forward to seeing you audition in the future.”
Rejection. That was what had driven Rachel Berry straight back to Ohio, the place where she had been great. She hadn’t been accepted necessarily but people knew she was talented and sometimes they told her. Glee Club made her a star, maybe even a little arrogant; but never had she been rejected like this. Not even a call back? Were they insane? It was something she couldn’t get over. She couldn’t will herself to stay in New York.
So she ran back home to her parents, got a job at the community theater and auditioned for their shows, earning a major role each time. Now she was doing Rent, one of her and her parents all time favorite shows. Every time she was onstage she still felt that thrill, the adrenaline.
Tonight’s show was different than the other ones. There was something different she was feeling but she couldn’t put her finger on it. When she was up there singing and dancing, she felt like someone was watching her with such intensity that she could feel their stare. Then in the opening number, when she could see the audience, she had made eye contact with a blonde. She had clear pale skin and beautiful bone structure; but that wasn’t what made Rachel smile at the blonde stranger; it was her hazel eyes.
“How’s my little star?” an excited voice exclaimed, ripping Rachel away from her thoughts.
She ran into her dad’s arms and hugged him tightly.
“Thank you, Dad, but I am no star. This is no Broadway.”
He kissed her on the cheek.
“You are my star, no matter where you perform. Come; let’s go meet your fans, shall we?”
Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag before skipping out with her father. They were greeted with a medium sized crowd. Her eyes skimmed the group, looking for people to notice her.
Suddenly, she met another’s stare and was bombarded with those hazel eyes. As they stared, her heart began to race. She looked familiar. It was something about those hazel eyes, the way her blonde locks fell to her shoulders. She wondered how it would look in a ponytail…
Then it hit her.
That blonde was Quinn Fabray.