Lights Will Guide You Home: Rachel, PG-13
Title: Lights Will Guide You Home
Author: Kelsey / marliskelsey
Pairing,Character(s): Rachel Berry
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,279
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. I can only dream. I also do not own "Fix You" by Coldplay.
Summary: At first it's everything she's ever wanted. Life in the Big City, the perfect apartment, the perfect role, the perfect boyfriend.
A/N: Future!fic. Written for this prompt at the glee_angst_meme. This is Rachel-centric. Based on the song "Fix You" by Coldplay. First attempt at a songfic and first time filling a prompt. I hope you enjoy it!
When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
At first it's everything she's ever wanted. Life in the Big City, the perfect apartment, the perfect role, the perfect boyfriend. Everything she dreamed of as a teenager, when her only outlet was singing into a video camera, and her only friends were the ones who smiled to her face and talked behind her back.
Seven years is a very long time.
And time changes things.
* * *
"Again, Rachel."
She digs her nails into her palm. The director sits back in his chair and levels his gaze at Rachel, peering at her through his pretentious sunglasses. He's been hailed as the biggest up-and-coming director on Broadway, every show he touches turning to gold. But really, he's just barely out of college on a theatre degree, and everything is sheer luck.
Rachel plasters on a smile. "Kyle, I don't think I can do it better."
Kyle sighs and leans forward, fingers making a steeple beneath his chin. He smiles indulgently, like he's talking to a child. "Rachel, sweetie, if that's the best you've got then there's really no point in you being the lead. Leanne would be more than willing to take over for you. If you think you need her, of course."
Rachel clenches her jaw. She knows Leanne would take this role in a heartbeat. Leanne hasn't exactly made it a secret that she wants Rachel out of the way.
"I don't need her. I can make it better."
Kyle leans back in his director's chair, crossing his legs and signaling to the lighting guy.
"Good, Rachel. That's what I like to hear. Now, from the top!"
As the first bars of the music play, Rachel takes a cleansing breath. This is her dream, this is her big moment. Her first off-Broadway show, just a step closer to the real thing. She's not going to sabotage it, not when there may never be another chance.
She’s twenty-five years old. Seven years of auditioning only resulting in bit parts in off-off-Broadway shows. Broadway isn’t interested in an aging star.
When she sings, she pushes, striving for the perfection Kyle is looking for. Her voice soars and dips, her pitch is excellent. Rachel can feel it in her bones - it's her best performance yet. She can see all the smiles now, a deserted theatre transforming into a packed one with the lights down and her centre-stage. Her name in lights, her face on the posters. When she's done, Rachel smirks at Kyle in the audience. There's nothing bad he can say.
He yawns. "I expected better, Rach. But we'll pick it up tomorrow."
Rachel blinks and the lights and smiling faces are gone. All that's left is the feeling of never being good enough, the all-too-familiar ache in her chest.
* * *
Danny drops her off at the theatre on opening night. When he leans over to kiss her, Rachel turns her face.
He stares at her, hurt in his eyes. Rachel's too nervous to feel bad.
"I'm sorry, Danny, I'm just too nervous. I'm not sure if I can do this."
Danny murmurs something under his breath but looks back up at her, and smiles. He really is handsome, with the chiseled jaw and cornflower blue eyes. He's the perfect guy. "You'll be amazing, Rach. You were born to do this."
Rachel smiles and squeezes his hand. He's such a good guy, to be there for her through all this.
She ducks out of the car and runs through the rain, towards the front door. She smiles at the ticket girl and enters through the cast-only door. Backstage is a mess of people, swarming everywhere, chorus girls running with costumes half-off and make-up half-done, lighting techs fiddling with a broken bulb and Kyle directing everybody while he sits on his ass in his director's chair.
As soon as Rachel enters, Julia from make-up pulls her into the room and sits her down in the chair.
"Listen up, sweet pea, I've got about a hundred chorus members to finish up and no time to finish them, so you're gonna have to help me make this fast. Can you handle applying the foundation while I get these showgirls?" Rachel nods and Julia rushes off, curly red hair bouncing.
Rubbing the foundation in circles on her skin, she stares at her reflection in the mirror.
She covers up the dark circles under her eyes and rubs at the worry lines that are already starting to etch into her forehead.
Rachel realizes she looks older and…there’s something else too. Wisdom, maybe. Exhaustion, absolutely.
Sadness that she didn’t know was there.
An older woman in the next chair leans over and puts a hand on her arm.
“You’re far too young to look so blue, darling.”
Rachel smiles a little bit.
Julia returns and she paints the make-up on Rachel's face with an expert hand, covering everything that's wrong. When she's finished, she spins the chair and Rachel dashes to get into costume.
It's opening night. It's her big shot.
She's ready.
* * *
The theatre is packed.
She can hear the music for her first song begin and begins singing without really thinking about it. Rachel’s never had to think about singing. Her mind races as she dances across the stage, kicking her legs. Rachel moves and sways and thinks about her life now. She's worked harder than anybody, sacrificed more than anyone else. She sacrificed seeing her fathers, stuck behind in Lima, supporting her. She's sacrificed countless hours. She's sacrificed friendships and lovers, and all semblance of a normal life.
But this is what she's chosen. So she sings her heart out. And when it's over and the final curtain falls, she feels like she's succeeded.
When Rachel gets backstage afterwards, hundreds of arms encircle her, congratulating her on a perfect opening night. A bouquet of flowers is shoved into her arms. Rachel smiles and says thank you and retreats to her dressing room.
There's a note taped to her mirror.
Rachel,
You were good, but I don't think this is going to work out. I'm going to make Leanne lead and you'll be her understudy. I'm terribly sorry. Good show!
Kyle
Rachel sees red immediately. Who does he think he is? Just a little boy who makes himself feel better by pushing everyone else around. She tears the note from the mirror and storms out of the room, heading directly for the greenroom. As she enters, Rachel yelps a little in surprise.
Leanne's head snaps up from her position on top of Kyle. She smirks when she sees Rachel.
"Hey, you. Great show. Sorry it had to be this way, but I guess Kyle just thinks I'm better for the role." The girl bites her lip, feigning sympathy as she climbs off, adjusting her blouse. Leanne skips towards the door, stopping to pat Rachel on the shoulder. Kyle wipes his mouth and blinks at her.
"What can I do for you?"
She slept with him. That's why she got the part, that's how she stole Rachel's show and that makes Rachel angrier than she's ever been in her entire life. Something so cliché was going to ruin her.
"Is that what you wanted, Kyle? Did you want me to grovel for my part? Did you want me to offer you anything to stay the star? And when I didn't take the hint, Leanne waltzed in to convince you."
Kyle has the nerve to roll his eyes. "Please, Rachel. You're just not ready for the role. Leanne understands what it takes."
Rachel scoffs. "And what it takes is sexual favours."
Remembering the note in her hand, she holds it up for him to see. "You weren't even man enough to say it to my face."
When Kyle just stares at her, the reality sinks in. She's really out. There aren't any bright lights or smiling faces, and there isn't a Broadway career. Her one chance is over, just like that, just because the director slept with the understudy. She can feel the tears welling in her eyes and threatening to spill, but Rachel will not give Kyle the satisfaction. She throws the note into a garbage bin and storms back out.
When Rachel enters her dressing room, she leans against the closed door and the dam breaks. Hot tears are rolling down her face.
They last in the cab home and through the lobby of the apartment. They just won't stop flowing.
* * *
When she gets home, Danny is sleeping in the bedroom. There are roses on the table with a note pinned to the paper.
Here's to many more shows.
I love you, Danny
She lowers the note to the table, and picks the flowers up in her hand. Rachel bites her lip. There won't be any more shows, not on this production. And even if she can get a part, word will spread that she lost the lead after the first night. Kyle will be sure of that.
Suddenly, she can't look at the flowers without wanting to burst into tears.
Rachel walks to the kitchen and tosses them in the garbage. She pulls the bag shut before Danny sees.
Later, when she's curled on the couch, unable to be beside Danny, unable to face her failure and tell him everything, she resolves to work ten times harder.
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for an hour.”
Rachel bites her lip and takes off her coat, hanging it on the coat rack at the door. She sets her keys down on the side-table. Danny stares at her, prompting an answer.
“I’m sorry, the dance instructor made everyone turn off their phones and then I had a surprise costume fitting, and I suppose I forgot to turn my phone back on.”
Danny crosses his arms. “I didn’t know what happened to you, Rach. I was worried.”
Rachel crosses the room and places her hands on his chest.
“I’m really sorry, Danny.”
He sighs and leans down to kiss her. When he pulls back up, he smiles, trying to force the worry and the hurt off of his face. “I love you, you know.”
Rachel smiles and pats his chest. “Love you too.”
This is what she loves about Danny. He’s forgiving, he’s easy going. He’s her exact opposite, the perfect balance of her high-strung nature. Nothing shakes him.
“So, why did you have a surprise costume fitting?”
Rachel rolls her eyes, busying herself preparing tea in the little kitchen. “Kyle decided last minute that the chorus girls needed different corsets. Something about the sequins clashing with Leanne’s costume.”
“I don’t understand why you stay with the production if Kyle and Leanne just mess around with you.”
Rachel sighs and puts down her spoon. She turns and faces her boyfriend. “I’ve explained this, Danny. This is my one big shot. If I mess up, it’s over. I’m almost twenty-six. There’s not going to be room for me for much longer. So I have to deal with Kyle and Leanne, because I don’t know if there’s going to be another opportunity.”
Danny sighs. “I wish you’d stop underestimating yourself.”
Rachel sips her tea, accepting the burn on the roof of her mouth. It’s not underestimating. It’s the truth.
* * *
Rachel’s exhausted. She’s been on her feet all day, dancing and singing in a hot theatre, watching as someone else sings lead.
She’s sick of it. She’s sick of coming so far to fall on her face.
“Danny, I’m home.”
He’s nowhere to be found. Rachel searches the apartment but there’s no sign of Danny. Frantically, she reaches for her phone, fingers nimbly dialing his number. She bites her lip as the phone rings.
“Hi, Rachel.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Danny! Oh my God, I was worried. Where are you?”
There’s silence on the other end. “We had a date, Rach.”
Rachel inhales in shock. She completely forgot. A few glances around the apartment make the things she missed at first clearer. A candle burned down to the holder. A pile of dishes in the sink. A forgotten bouquet of sunflowers. Rachel sniffs the air and the faint scent of lasagna greets her. It’s enough to make her tear up.
“Danny, I am so sorry. I completely forgot, Kyle extended rehearsal to work with Leanne on her second number and made the entire cast stay in case they were needed. I - I'll make it up to you."
She can hear the sadness in his voice. “Yeah, Rachel. You’ve been forgetting a lot.”
Rachel’s never felt so guilty. “We’ll have a date night tomorrow night, okay?”
“I’ve got to work. And besides, chances are that Kyle will schedule something or you’ll have a vocal lesson or one of the other many things that you do. It’s how it always happens, Rachel.”
She furrows her brow. “That’s not fair, Danny. This is my career.”
“And I’m your boyfriend!”
Rachel’s voice dips dangerously low. “You knew when we got serious that this is what it would take for me to make it on Broadway. I have to do everything I can to keep the cutting edge.”
She hears him sigh. “Let’s not do this now.”
Rachel presses end, digging her thumbnail into the button. She throws the phone in her purse, not entirely sure why she’s angry. Danny had a point.
She goes to bed. When Danny comes home, he doesn’t come in, and Rachel listens as he pulls a blanket and pillow from the linen closet. She listens as he sighs and settles down.
And then she cries.
* *
Her entire world is spinning. It’s crashing down around her. She can only stare and hug herself, holding the pieces together, watching Danny pack his bags.
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
Danny stares at her, two years of pain and hurt and anger in his eyes. “I never wanted it to.”
He pulls the suitcase off the bed and wheels it into the living room, where his toiletry bag is packed and waiting. Rachel follows him. “I don’t understand.”
He sighs and plunks down on the couch, resting his face in his palms. When he looks at her, all Rachel sees is exhaustion. “You’re always going to put your career first, Rachel. This is the truth. You’re always going to push and push and strive to be the best. I admire that about you. But it’s not going to benefit you in the end, because with all that pushing you’re bound to push away the things that matter too. I love you. I’ll always love you. But I can’t do this. I can’t pretend everything between us is okay when it hasn’t been for a while. You know it too.”
She whimpers. “Danny, I love you.”
He stands up and crosses the room in several quick strides. He lays a kiss on her forehead.
“I know. I wish it was enough.”
There’s something so resolute about the way the door closes, shutting the door on four years of her life.
Suddenly, Rachel sees nothing of Danny in the apartment. There’s the Wicked poster on the wall, but the space beside it is mysteriously devoid of Danny’s signed Yankees jersey. There are the cushions she picked out for the couch, but none of Danny’s kitschy coasters. Everything that could possibly remind her of him is gone.
Except the picture of them on the nightstand. Rachel takes it in her hands.
Danny’s arm around her. Danny’s smile. Everything’s gone.
It’s like he was never there at all.
Deep down inside, Rachel knows that what Danny said is the truth. Her drive is her gift and her downfall. She’s willing to sacrifice anything to get what she wants, despite never understanding why and pushing away the people she loves.
She kneels beside their bed, staring at the photograph.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. The tears stream down her face and fall on the glass. She leaves them there as a reminder of what she threw away and slides the picture under the bed.
* * *
It’s funny how the things that used to be trivial with Danny are now important and painful without him. Rachel wanders the aisles of the grocery store, clutching her list and feeling utterly alone.
She passes his favourite tomato sauce by, and doesn’t pick up a case of the Sprite he likes and it feels wrong somehow.
The check-out lady looks at her funny.
“Don’t you usually come with a boy, sweetie? Tall, handsome, hopelessly in love with you.”
Rachel shakes her head. “I’ll be grocery shopping on my own now.”
If the woman understands the meaning dripping from Rachel’s words, she doesn’t show it. She returns to cheerily packing Rachel’s groceries. Suddenly, she stops.
“Hey, I know you! My husband and I saw a play the other day, and you were in the chorus. A showgirl, right?”
Rachel bites her lip and nods.
“I’m thinking of quitting.”
The woman looks horrified. “Sweetheart, why would you do a thing like that? In my humble opinion, a role in a play here in New York City isn’t something to be taken lightly. Not when you’re so talented.”
Rachel tries to smile at the woman and leaves with a promise to reconsider.
But she’s not going to. The play and everything else in her life is just spiraling out-of-control, and the only way to escape it is to bail out early.
Rachel doesn’t know if she can handle it anymore.
And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Packing her bags, Rachel thinks of everything this city is and everything it’s taken from her.
Danny never calls. She hears that he’s living with his sister, that he doesn’t miss her at all. Rachel misses him everyday.
The play could care less. Leanne is a star. Everybody adores her, the golden girl. Nobody notices Rachel in the background, the girl who headlined one show that nobody remembers, the girl who got the part first and lost it.
She has no friends. She has no future here.
And yet, she loves it. This city was her dream for so many years that it's rooted itself into her heart and refuses to get out. It makes her hurt to even think of leaving it, leaving the people, the smells, the views. New York will always be her second home.
But it’s taken too much from her. And she’s done living her life for it.
The zip of her suitcase is satisfying. The thunk as it lands in the cab’s trunk is too.
As the taxi rolls out of her apartment complex, she keeps her head down. She says a silent goodbye to the Big City and then wipes the wetness from her cheeks. A chapter of her life is closed now.
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
The brick house is achingly familiar.
When the door opens, Rachel can feel the smile break her face, the first true smile since the day she got the part in the big break that never was.
Her fathers beam back at her and envelop her in their arms.
They look older. But then, she’s older too.
“Welcome home, Rachel.”
She burrows into her father’s embrace, soaking in the warmth of people who love and care about her too much to let her give them up, who kept a place in their heart for when she woke up and realized it was still there.
“This is my home,” she says into her Daddy’s chest. And Rachel believes it.
She walks into the home of her childhood. Her new life.
Author: Kelsey / marliskelsey
Pairing,Character(s): Rachel Berry
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,279
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. I can only dream. I also do not own "Fix You" by Coldplay.
Summary: At first it's everything she's ever wanted. Life in the Big City, the perfect apartment, the perfect role, the perfect boyfriend.
A/N: Future!fic. Written for this prompt at the glee_angst_meme. This is Rachel-centric. Based on the song "Fix You" by Coldplay. First attempt at a songfic and first time filling a prompt. I hope you enjoy it!
When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
At first it's everything she's ever wanted. Life in the Big City, the perfect apartment, the perfect role, the perfect boyfriend. Everything she dreamed of as a teenager, when her only outlet was singing into a video camera, and her only friends were the ones who smiled to her face and talked behind her back.
Seven years is a very long time.
And time changes things.
* * *
"Again, Rachel."
She digs her nails into her palm. The director sits back in his chair and levels his gaze at Rachel, peering at her through his pretentious sunglasses. He's been hailed as the biggest up-and-coming director on Broadway, every show he touches turning to gold. But really, he's just barely out of college on a theatre degree, and everything is sheer luck.
Rachel plasters on a smile. "Kyle, I don't think I can do it better."
Kyle sighs and leans forward, fingers making a steeple beneath his chin. He smiles indulgently, like he's talking to a child. "Rachel, sweetie, if that's the best you've got then there's really no point in you being the lead. Leanne would be more than willing to take over for you. If you think you need her, of course."
Rachel clenches her jaw. She knows Leanne would take this role in a heartbeat. Leanne hasn't exactly made it a secret that she wants Rachel out of the way.
"I don't need her. I can make it better."
Kyle leans back in his director's chair, crossing his legs and signaling to the lighting guy.
"Good, Rachel. That's what I like to hear. Now, from the top!"
As the first bars of the music play, Rachel takes a cleansing breath. This is her dream, this is her big moment. Her first off-Broadway show, just a step closer to the real thing. She's not going to sabotage it, not when there may never be another chance.
She’s twenty-five years old. Seven years of auditioning only resulting in bit parts in off-off-Broadway shows. Broadway isn’t interested in an aging star.
When she sings, she pushes, striving for the perfection Kyle is looking for. Her voice soars and dips, her pitch is excellent. Rachel can feel it in her bones - it's her best performance yet. She can see all the smiles now, a deserted theatre transforming into a packed one with the lights down and her centre-stage. Her name in lights, her face on the posters. When she's done, Rachel smirks at Kyle in the audience. There's nothing bad he can say.
He yawns. "I expected better, Rach. But we'll pick it up tomorrow."
Rachel blinks and the lights and smiling faces are gone. All that's left is the feeling of never being good enough, the all-too-familiar ache in her chest.
* * *
Danny drops her off at the theatre on opening night. When he leans over to kiss her, Rachel turns her face.
He stares at her, hurt in his eyes. Rachel's too nervous to feel bad.
"I'm sorry, Danny, I'm just too nervous. I'm not sure if I can do this."
Danny murmurs something under his breath but looks back up at her, and smiles. He really is handsome, with the chiseled jaw and cornflower blue eyes. He's the perfect guy. "You'll be amazing, Rach. You were born to do this."
Rachel smiles and squeezes his hand. He's such a good guy, to be there for her through all this.
She ducks out of the car and runs through the rain, towards the front door. She smiles at the ticket girl and enters through the cast-only door. Backstage is a mess of people, swarming everywhere, chorus girls running with costumes half-off and make-up half-done, lighting techs fiddling with a broken bulb and Kyle directing everybody while he sits on his ass in his director's chair.
As soon as Rachel enters, Julia from make-up pulls her into the room and sits her down in the chair.
"Listen up, sweet pea, I've got about a hundred chorus members to finish up and no time to finish them, so you're gonna have to help me make this fast. Can you handle applying the foundation while I get these showgirls?" Rachel nods and Julia rushes off, curly red hair bouncing.
Rubbing the foundation in circles on her skin, she stares at her reflection in the mirror.
She covers up the dark circles under her eyes and rubs at the worry lines that are already starting to etch into her forehead.
Rachel realizes she looks older and…there’s something else too. Wisdom, maybe. Exhaustion, absolutely.
Sadness that she didn’t know was there.
An older woman in the next chair leans over and puts a hand on her arm.
“You’re far too young to look so blue, darling.”
Rachel smiles a little bit.
Julia returns and she paints the make-up on Rachel's face with an expert hand, covering everything that's wrong. When she's finished, she spins the chair and Rachel dashes to get into costume.
It's opening night. It's her big shot.
She's ready.
* * *
The theatre is packed.
She can hear the music for her first song begin and begins singing without really thinking about it. Rachel’s never had to think about singing. Her mind races as she dances across the stage, kicking her legs. Rachel moves and sways and thinks about her life now. She's worked harder than anybody, sacrificed more than anyone else. She sacrificed seeing her fathers, stuck behind in Lima, supporting her. She's sacrificed countless hours. She's sacrificed friendships and lovers, and all semblance of a normal life.
But this is what she's chosen. So she sings her heart out. And when it's over and the final curtain falls, she feels like she's succeeded.
When Rachel gets backstage afterwards, hundreds of arms encircle her, congratulating her on a perfect opening night. A bouquet of flowers is shoved into her arms. Rachel smiles and says thank you and retreats to her dressing room.
There's a note taped to her mirror.
Rachel,
You were good, but I don't think this is going to work out. I'm going to make Leanne lead and you'll be her understudy. I'm terribly sorry. Good show!
Kyle
Rachel sees red immediately. Who does he think he is? Just a little boy who makes himself feel better by pushing everyone else around. She tears the note from the mirror and storms out of the room, heading directly for the greenroom. As she enters, Rachel yelps a little in surprise.
Leanne's head snaps up from her position on top of Kyle. She smirks when she sees Rachel.
"Hey, you. Great show. Sorry it had to be this way, but I guess Kyle just thinks I'm better for the role." The girl bites her lip, feigning sympathy as she climbs off, adjusting her blouse. Leanne skips towards the door, stopping to pat Rachel on the shoulder. Kyle wipes his mouth and blinks at her.
"What can I do for you?"
She slept with him. That's why she got the part, that's how she stole Rachel's show and that makes Rachel angrier than she's ever been in her entire life. Something so cliché was going to ruin her.
"Is that what you wanted, Kyle? Did you want me to grovel for my part? Did you want me to offer you anything to stay the star? And when I didn't take the hint, Leanne waltzed in to convince you."
Kyle has the nerve to roll his eyes. "Please, Rachel. You're just not ready for the role. Leanne understands what it takes."
Rachel scoffs. "And what it takes is sexual favours."
Remembering the note in her hand, she holds it up for him to see. "You weren't even man enough to say it to my face."
When Kyle just stares at her, the reality sinks in. She's really out. There aren't any bright lights or smiling faces, and there isn't a Broadway career. Her one chance is over, just like that, just because the director slept with the understudy. She can feel the tears welling in her eyes and threatening to spill, but Rachel will not give Kyle the satisfaction. She throws the note into a garbage bin and storms back out.
When Rachel enters her dressing room, she leans against the closed door and the dam breaks. Hot tears are rolling down her face.
They last in the cab home and through the lobby of the apartment. They just won't stop flowing.
* * *
When she gets home, Danny is sleeping in the bedroom. There are roses on the table with a note pinned to the paper.
Here's to many more shows.
I love you, Danny
She lowers the note to the table, and picks the flowers up in her hand. Rachel bites her lip. There won't be any more shows, not on this production. And even if she can get a part, word will spread that she lost the lead after the first night. Kyle will be sure of that.
Suddenly, she can't look at the flowers without wanting to burst into tears.
Rachel walks to the kitchen and tosses them in the garbage. She pulls the bag shut before Danny sees.
Later, when she's curled on the couch, unable to be beside Danny, unable to face her failure and tell him everything, she resolves to work ten times harder.
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for an hour.”
Rachel bites her lip and takes off her coat, hanging it on the coat rack at the door. She sets her keys down on the side-table. Danny stares at her, prompting an answer.
“I’m sorry, the dance instructor made everyone turn off their phones and then I had a surprise costume fitting, and I suppose I forgot to turn my phone back on.”
Danny crosses his arms. “I didn’t know what happened to you, Rach. I was worried.”
Rachel crosses the room and places her hands on his chest.
“I’m really sorry, Danny.”
He sighs and leans down to kiss her. When he pulls back up, he smiles, trying to force the worry and the hurt off of his face. “I love you, you know.”
Rachel smiles and pats his chest. “Love you too.”
This is what she loves about Danny. He’s forgiving, he’s easy going. He’s her exact opposite, the perfect balance of her high-strung nature. Nothing shakes him.
“So, why did you have a surprise costume fitting?”
Rachel rolls her eyes, busying herself preparing tea in the little kitchen. “Kyle decided last minute that the chorus girls needed different corsets. Something about the sequins clashing with Leanne’s costume.”
“I don’t understand why you stay with the production if Kyle and Leanne just mess around with you.”
Rachel sighs and puts down her spoon. She turns and faces her boyfriend. “I’ve explained this, Danny. This is my one big shot. If I mess up, it’s over. I’m almost twenty-six. There’s not going to be room for me for much longer. So I have to deal with Kyle and Leanne, because I don’t know if there’s going to be another opportunity.”
Danny sighs. “I wish you’d stop underestimating yourself.”
Rachel sips her tea, accepting the burn on the roof of her mouth. It’s not underestimating. It’s the truth.
* * *
Rachel’s exhausted. She’s been on her feet all day, dancing and singing in a hot theatre, watching as someone else sings lead.
She’s sick of it. She’s sick of coming so far to fall on her face.
“Danny, I’m home.”
He’s nowhere to be found. Rachel searches the apartment but there’s no sign of Danny. Frantically, she reaches for her phone, fingers nimbly dialing his number. She bites her lip as the phone rings.
“Hi, Rachel.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Danny! Oh my God, I was worried. Where are you?”
There’s silence on the other end. “We had a date, Rach.”
Rachel inhales in shock. She completely forgot. A few glances around the apartment make the things she missed at first clearer. A candle burned down to the holder. A pile of dishes in the sink. A forgotten bouquet of sunflowers. Rachel sniffs the air and the faint scent of lasagna greets her. It’s enough to make her tear up.
“Danny, I am so sorry. I completely forgot, Kyle extended rehearsal to work with Leanne on her second number and made the entire cast stay in case they were needed. I - I'll make it up to you."
She can hear the sadness in his voice. “Yeah, Rachel. You’ve been forgetting a lot.”
Rachel’s never felt so guilty. “We’ll have a date night tomorrow night, okay?”
“I’ve got to work. And besides, chances are that Kyle will schedule something or you’ll have a vocal lesson or one of the other many things that you do. It’s how it always happens, Rachel.”
She furrows her brow. “That’s not fair, Danny. This is my career.”
“And I’m your boyfriend!”
Rachel’s voice dips dangerously low. “You knew when we got serious that this is what it would take for me to make it on Broadway. I have to do everything I can to keep the cutting edge.”
She hears him sigh. “Let’s not do this now.”
Rachel presses end, digging her thumbnail into the button. She throws the phone in her purse, not entirely sure why she’s angry. Danny had a point.
She goes to bed. When Danny comes home, he doesn’t come in, and Rachel listens as he pulls a blanket and pillow from the linen closet. She listens as he sighs and settles down.
And then she cries.
* *
Her entire world is spinning. It’s crashing down around her. She can only stare and hug herself, holding the pieces together, watching Danny pack his bags.
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
Danny stares at her, two years of pain and hurt and anger in his eyes. “I never wanted it to.”
He pulls the suitcase off the bed and wheels it into the living room, where his toiletry bag is packed and waiting. Rachel follows him. “I don’t understand.”
He sighs and plunks down on the couch, resting his face in his palms. When he looks at her, all Rachel sees is exhaustion. “You’re always going to put your career first, Rachel. This is the truth. You’re always going to push and push and strive to be the best. I admire that about you. But it’s not going to benefit you in the end, because with all that pushing you’re bound to push away the things that matter too. I love you. I’ll always love you. But I can’t do this. I can’t pretend everything between us is okay when it hasn’t been for a while. You know it too.”
She whimpers. “Danny, I love you.”
He stands up and crosses the room in several quick strides. He lays a kiss on her forehead.
“I know. I wish it was enough.”
There’s something so resolute about the way the door closes, shutting the door on four years of her life.
Suddenly, Rachel sees nothing of Danny in the apartment. There’s the Wicked poster on the wall, but the space beside it is mysteriously devoid of Danny’s signed Yankees jersey. There are the cushions she picked out for the couch, but none of Danny’s kitschy coasters. Everything that could possibly remind her of him is gone.
Except the picture of them on the nightstand. Rachel takes it in her hands.
Danny’s arm around her. Danny’s smile. Everything’s gone.
It’s like he was never there at all.
Deep down inside, Rachel knows that what Danny said is the truth. Her drive is her gift and her downfall. She’s willing to sacrifice anything to get what she wants, despite never understanding why and pushing away the people she loves.
She kneels beside their bed, staring at the photograph.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. The tears stream down her face and fall on the glass. She leaves them there as a reminder of what she threw away and slides the picture under the bed.
* * *
It’s funny how the things that used to be trivial with Danny are now important and painful without him. Rachel wanders the aisles of the grocery store, clutching her list and feeling utterly alone.
She passes his favourite tomato sauce by, and doesn’t pick up a case of the Sprite he likes and it feels wrong somehow.
The check-out lady looks at her funny.
“Don’t you usually come with a boy, sweetie? Tall, handsome, hopelessly in love with you.”
Rachel shakes her head. “I’ll be grocery shopping on my own now.”
If the woman understands the meaning dripping from Rachel’s words, she doesn’t show it. She returns to cheerily packing Rachel’s groceries. Suddenly, she stops.
“Hey, I know you! My husband and I saw a play the other day, and you were in the chorus. A showgirl, right?”
Rachel bites her lip and nods.
“I’m thinking of quitting.”
The woman looks horrified. “Sweetheart, why would you do a thing like that? In my humble opinion, a role in a play here in New York City isn’t something to be taken lightly. Not when you’re so talented.”
Rachel tries to smile at the woman and leaves with a promise to reconsider.
But she’s not going to. The play and everything else in her life is just spiraling out-of-control, and the only way to escape it is to bail out early.
Rachel doesn’t know if she can handle it anymore.
And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
Packing her bags, Rachel thinks of everything this city is and everything it’s taken from her.
Danny never calls. She hears that he’s living with his sister, that he doesn’t miss her at all. Rachel misses him everyday.
The play could care less. Leanne is a star. Everybody adores her, the golden girl. Nobody notices Rachel in the background, the girl who headlined one show that nobody remembers, the girl who got the part first and lost it.
She has no friends. She has no future here.
And yet, she loves it. This city was her dream for so many years that it's rooted itself into her heart and refuses to get out. It makes her hurt to even think of leaving it, leaving the people, the smells, the views. New York will always be her second home.
But it’s taken too much from her. And she’s done living her life for it.
The zip of her suitcase is satisfying. The thunk as it lands in the cab’s trunk is too.
As the taxi rolls out of her apartment complex, she keeps her head down. She says a silent goodbye to the Big City and then wipes the wetness from her cheeks. A chapter of her life is closed now.
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
The brick house is achingly familiar.
When the door opens, Rachel can feel the smile break her face, the first true smile since the day she got the part in the big break that never was.
Her fathers beam back at her and envelop her in their arms.
They look older. But then, she’s older too.
“Welcome home, Rachel.”
She burrows into her father’s embrace, soaking in the warmth of people who love and care about her too much to let her give them up, who kept a place in their heart for when she woke up and realized it was still there.
“This is my home,” she says into her Daddy’s chest. And Rachel believes it.
She walks into the home of her childhood. Her new life.