Best Intentions 2/2
With nimble fingers, Rachel Berry applied her mascara meticulously while staring deeply into a mirror studded with gold light bulbs.
Her reflection stared back as she switched from mascara to eye liner and then eye liner to eye shadow. It was the night of Regionals and tensions were running high among the New Directions. Rachel had written her song, the club had written theirs, and though they all believed their pieces to be two successes, none of them could be sure as to how the audience or the judges would react to the original songs. She had had several dreams of herself singing her heart out, leaving her soul on stage for the people to accept and love; but most frequently she dreamed of those people laughing at her or worse, staring at her in silence. She inhaled deeply, trying to settle her nerves. As she applied the layer of silver powder, her hand began to shake slightly. It hadn’t happened before, but Rachel Berry was nervous. Those foreign butterflies were making their way around her stomach rapidly and though she had applied a light foundation, she looked paler than her normal shade. Of course, no one on her team noticed her change in behavior, or so she thought.
“Hey,” a smooth voice said softly, causing the brunette to turn around abruptly.
Her eyes met the gaze of Quinn Fabray, the beautiful blonde who had spent the past two years torturing her. Never had she imagined that the ex cheerleader would have ever said the word “Hey” to her so quietly, so sweetly, or so nervously; and yet there she was drinking in the stunning girl in front of her. An aqua blue dress, a choice that Rachel had intensely protested but had been predictably ignored, hugged around her thin waist and flowed out to just about the beginning of her knees. A pair of tight black leggings spread over her toned legs only to stop leaving a few inches of porcelain skin exposed to the world. Her eyelashes seemed to be inches long and her hazel eyes, pierced with insecurities and pain the brunette would never know the half of because Quinn was well trained in the art of concealing her emotions, penetrated her deeply. Long blonde locks of silky hair danced down to her slightly broadened shoulders perfectly falling at the start of her dress. To say she looked beautiful would have been a colossal understatement. Rachel’s breath caught in her throat as she felt her heart literally falter at the sight. Finally she regained her composure enough to utter out a greeting of her own.
“Hello, Quinn,” she all but whispered, wondering where her voice had disappeared to.
Quinn smiled in return and took a seat next to Rachel as she continued to modify her look for the twelfth time. Her bottom lip slid in between her teeth in concentration as she contemplated on how to wear her hair. With one swift motion it was up in a loose pony tail. She huffed, unsatisfied with the look and then heard a quiet giggle release from the blonde’s mouth.
“Here,” Quinn took the long brown hair into her hands gently and smoothed it out carefully down Rachel’s back, a motion that caused a series of chills to travel up her spine.
Her eyes lifted to the mirror and met her reflection, stunned by what the blonde had done in a matter of seconds. Rachel stared as Quinn’s long fingers adjusted her bangs perfectly before releasing the breath she had been holding. Her long hair was simply down with her bangs swooping to just above her eyebrows. It was perfect.
“Thanks,” she said as a flush of pink pervaded her cheeks.
Quinn shrugged and sat back down. Her eyes bore a pain that immediately grabbed Rachel’s attention. As Quinn exhaled deeply, Rachel began to play with her fingers.
“Nervous?” Quinn asked knowingly.
Rachel looked to Quinn, normally unable to admit defeat especially to the blonde, but nodded nonetheless. She really was anxious about her performance. What if she let the entire team down because the audience didn’t like her song, or worse she didn’t perform it up to standard? Quinn ran her fingers gracefully through her hair.
“Don’t be,” she answered honestly to the admission.
Rachel’s eyes widened.
“How can I not be? There is a theater full of anxious audience members awaiting my performance. What if they hate my song?”
Before Quinn could protest, Rachel lowered her volume, her voice suddenly raw and vulnerable.
“What if they hate me?”
A raging fury suddenly rose up within Quinn. How, after winning Sectionals for the club the previous year and having the voice that she possessed, was it possible for Rachel to believe that the audience would hate her? Her eyes blazed with anger but it was quickly subdued when she realized that she had to be gentler with Rachel. She had been lucky the last time when she upset the brunette; what if she was too harsh and caused Rachel to run away? She wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
“Rachel,” she said tightly before finally calming down, “they won’t hate you. Trust me.”
“How can you be so sure they won’t throw frozen beverages at me?” she asked in a voice resembling that of a young child that feared a monster under her bed.
“Well, for one they aren’t selling slushies at the concession stand. Puck already checked. And two, it’s impossible to hate you, Rachel.”
Rachel’s eyes snapped up. Impossible to hate her? Hadn’t the blonde spent the better half of the last year trying to cement that very idea into her head, that everyone hated her, that she was a freak? Quinn sensed the shock and elaborated.
“Listen, I know I don’t deserve you as my friend because of all of the horrible things I’ve done to you but let me be frank. I have tried so hard to hate you. I’ve spent years fighting you and trying to conjure up something about you that was worth hating. But I failed every single time. So, if I, your supposed arch nemesis and biggest enemy, cannot hate you then how can those complete strangers hate you? It’s impossible, Rachel. Trust me.”
Her eyes glistened with tears as Quinn’s words warmed her heart. All throughout their sophomore year, Rachel had always tried to decipher the reasons behind Quinn’s hate. What made her throw the slushies? Did she really have masculine hands? To learn now that it was all an act instilled more confidence in her than any “I love you” from Finn could ever instill.
“Thanks, Quinn,” she whispered as a single tear ran down her cheek.
At the sight of the water, Rachel cursed herself for breaking. She had to perform in less than five minutes and here she was crying. Before she could reach the falling tear, Quinn’s thumb caught it for her and wiped it gently away.
“What the hell, Quinn?” a deep voiced questioned with anger.
Quinn sighed with annoyance, giving the boy a roll of the eyes before turning towards the giant hovering above her. Her eyes wandered towards Rachel who suddenly looked small as she tried to conceal her freshly fallen tears.
“Nothing,” she said curtly as she got up from her seat.
Just as she was about to leave, Quinn turned her head. Finn’s back was towards her and yet Rachel was still staring intensely her way, ignoring the boy in front of her; Quinn threw her a soft yet encouraging smile.
“Hey,” Finn breathed as he ignored the blonde exiting the dressing room.
Rachel sniffled.
“Hello, Finn,” she said quietly.
“Listen, if Quinn’s being a major bitch I’ll put her in her place okay?”
Internally, the brunette laughed at the boy’s ignorance. Quinn had been better to her in the past two days than he had been to her in the past year. And even if she had been a bitch to her Rachel knew Finn’s promise was an empty one. The boy never supported her publicly or defended her from the insults or stopped the never-ending supply of slushy facials; it was only when the two of them were alone and he couldn’t be humiliated or tormented for loving a loser like her that he complimented her or told her she was right. She knew well enough now not to count on Finn Hudson for anything.
“Everything is fine.”
He smiled dumbly and obliviously at her, relieved to not have to press the issue of her obvious discomfort.
“Break a leg,” he said with one of those half-smile things he was so famous for.
She saw right through it; he was the same hypocrite who left her for an indiscretion not nearly as great as his or Quinn’s. Then, suddenly, Rachel felt herself brought back to one year ago. She and Finn were standing outside of the theater, smiling as the boy walked over to her with an awkward gait.
“Last time we were here you told me you loved me,” she said softly, her eyes concentrated on her freshly painted nails.
He looked down, mouth open slightly, before responding. As always, the question received all but a nod as Finn ignored the statement to offer her a childish compliment; he would never change.
“I really like your song.”
All that Quinn had told her about deserving more than the quarterback suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks. With a quick turn, Rachel was looking up at Finn with a newfound conviction to instead prove Quinn right rather than fight her advice; because she was right.
“Listen to the words because I really mean what I’m singing.”
Finn nodded enthusiastically adding yet another dopey smile.
“Rachel Berry to stage right!”
Rachel jumped slightly, her nerves rushing back full throttle. She put her make up away in a hurry, checked herself one more time and then turned to leave.
“Oh, and Finn?” she asked before proceeding to the stage.
“Yeah, Rach?”
“Your tie is on backwards.”
With that, Rachel began to make her way to the stage. When she was almost to her destination her eyes caught on the slender blonde waiting by the curtain. She gave her one final glance before she performed. The girl smiled brightly with a small nod, energizing the young star in ways nothing else could. She practically skipped out onto the stage.
The curtain was drawn and she grabbed onto the microphone stand that was acting as an anchor; another wave of nerves hit her. She turned around quickly, her eyes scanning the empty stage, and suddenly felt incredibly alone. Normally she loved the feeling of being the only one on stage but now she wished nothing more than to be surrounded by her friends.
Get it together, Rachel.
Then the velvet curtain pulled back to reveal the solo brunette basking in the spotlight of the empty stage. She drew a shaky breath as the piano began to sing its haunting introduction. Quickly she closed her eyes and imagined being alone again in the auditorium with Quinn’s hand in hers.
What have I done?
I wish I could run away from this ship going under.
Just trying to help, hurt everyone else
Now I Feel the weight of the world is on my shoulders.
Her confidence built with each note as the music crescendoed into the chorus.
What can you do when your good isn't good enough
When all that you touch tumbles down?
'Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many it times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me
To get it right.
She quickly grabbed the microphone, her hands grasped onto it as her lifeline, as Brittany and Tina joined her onto the stage. She smiled at their arrival. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, propelling her into the next verse.
Can I start again with my faith shaken?
'Cause I can't go back and undo this
I just have to stay and face my mistakes
But if I get stronger and wiser
I'll get through this
What can you do when your good isn't good enough
When all that you touch tumbles down?
'Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many it times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me
To get it right
Quickly, she turned towards backstage and met the gaze of an awestruck Finn Hudson. His lip curled into a half smile as he released a breath; but she soon became distracted by the blonde smiling back at her with a full fledged smile she had never seen grace the face of the beauty. With a nod of encouragement, Rachel flew into the bridge.
So I throw up my fist
Throw a punch in the air
And accept the truth that sometimes life isn't fair
Yeah, I'll send out a wish
Yeah, I'll send up a prayer
And finally, someone will see
How much I care
The entire club now joined the stunning young ingénue on the stage as they pushed through the choreography. Overwhelmed with happiness, Rachel felt tears well up inside of her as the feeling of accomplishment steadily increased exponentially as she belted out the pivotal note. As she sustained the note, she heard a cry of approval from the audience, a cry that almost caused her to break down then and there. They loved her. The audience truly loved her. She wanted to freeze the moment and live in it forever, on stage with her best friends as the crowd cheered and cheered for her to continue and she was happy to oblige. Then a hand found her free hand, causing a ripple of electricity to shoot through her. When she looked over to the owner of the hand, she was surprised to see Quinn’s bright face gazing back at her confidently. Her heart pounded faster and harder as she shed an invisible tear, relieved that it wasn’t the hand she had been expecting.
What can you do when your good isn't good enough
When all that you touch tumbles down?
'Cause my best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just wanna fix it somehow
But how many it times will it take
Oh, how many times will it take
To get it right
To get it right
In that moment, her hand intertwined with Quinn’s, Rachel felt as though she truly had for the first time gotten something right. Nothing seemed to matter as the crowd surged and she felt a gentle squeeze originate from the hand in hers. It didn’t matter that Finn had dumped her. It didn’t matter that she had cheated with Puck. It didn’t matter that Quinn and Finn would be together even after everything that had happened since that day in the auditorium. She had gotten something right. The audience’s applause never ceased, further cementing her accomplishment into the ground. A sudden rush of overwhelming happiness overcame the petite brunette that she had never felt before when performing. But it wasn’t happiness; she couldn’t place her finger on what to call the feeling. Sure, she had been applauded numerous times before but never had she felt like this. Never had a moment caused her so much joy. Part of it obviously had to do with the fact that she had just performed her own song that people actually enjoyed; the other part had to do with the fact that she had finally won the approval of the girl who had attempted to hate her for her entire existence, of the girl who had finally become her friend.
It was love that she felt rushing through her body but not the ordinary kind; it was the kind that if tended to with enough care could endure a lifetime. And Rachel had every intention to do so.