She knows that she's not conventionally beautiful. It takes her hours to get ready every morning just to feel like she belongs in the same room as her gorgeous dancer classmates. She's vain about other things, however, like her incredible singing voice and the fact that she was the only freshman invited to sing at the Winter Showcase. Yet she doesn't really receive too much attention from guys that actually are straight - which is kind of a rare commodity at NYADA, unfortunately - and she doesn't feel like she's good enough for her female counterparts.

It's not much different than high school, actually. There she had Santana who, on the other hand, is an absolute bombshell. Quinn may have natural glamor and poise like an old Hollywood starlet, but Santana oozes one-hundred-percent sex appeal. And try as she might, Rachel knows she'll never be able to compete with anybody near their league.

When Santana first moves into the loft, Rachel hates everything about it. Four years of being tortured by her in Lima was difficult enough to escape from, but the idea of Santana living in her New York sanctuary makes her sick to her stomach.

Only Santana has managed to grow up. She's still crass and speaks her mind even when people don't want to hear it, but she's also caring and loyal way beyond Rachel's wildest imaginations. She fits into Rachel and Kurt's New York bubble well - they all complement each other in ways that make the odd situation seem to work perfectly.

It takes Rachel until Santana's feet are tangled between hers to realize that this is the third time she's declined a date this month in order to watch Netflix marathons and eat crappy take-out with her lady-loving roommate instead. The realization makes her body tingle uncomfortably and she slides away from Santana, faking a yawn before disappearing quickly behind her privacy curtain.

She doesn't know what it means to be blowing off cute future Broadway boys to hang out with Santana instead. She's been around gay people her entire life, but she never really entertained the thought that she could be gay too. Granted, she's never really had close female friends before Santana either, so she never really got close enough to them to even think about her attractions having the possibility of being more than admiration.

But she likes boys. She loves how much bigger they are and how their arms fully envelope her tiny frame. She likes the light scratch of a 5 o'clock shadow on her cheek when she kisses them and the way their big sweatshirts droop down to her knees. Boys are rough in the way girls are soft, and right now she's having a hard time discerning if she likes one better.

After that night on the couch, Rachel makes a bigger effort to try and figure out what's really going on with her. She agrees to a few dates with boys in her classes, but none of them go particularly well and none of them go past a second date before she puts the brakes on the idea of actually dating any of them.

She spends time with Santana still when their busy schedules allow, but she files away all of their interactions to try and analyze in her journal later. It's ridiculously silly, but she understands how she feels about boys and has no idea what to do about how she thinks she feels about Santana. Rachel wishes that she had another female friend to talk about it with. Quinn is probably the closest thing she has to another friend, but Quinn is also Santana's best friend, even if the two of them have been weird around one another since Mr. Schue's wedding.

Kurt insists that Santana join them at Callbacks for his birthday celebration. Santana agrees reluctantly, but Rachel can see how much she's enjoying herself as the two girls get ready together. It's not often that they go out together - they have their own groups of friends in the City - but they share the bathroom and sing along with the radio and Santana helps pick out Rachel's clothes without even insulting her wardrobe selection.

Rachel holds her breath when Santana leans in exceptionally close to help fix Rachel's eye makeup. She stiffens at the way Santana's fingers move so delicately along her skin, smoothing out the smudge of eyeliner. By the time Santana takes a step back out of Rachel's personal space and declares that she looks fucking good, Rachel is uncomfortably aware of the blush painting her cheeks. She doesn't need to journal about her feelings this time to know that she definitely seems to have feelings for Santana Lopez.

Callbacks is crowded when they arrive, but Santana has a unique ability to part a crowd with minimal effort. Rachel follows in her wake, her clammy hand grasping onto Santana's cool, soft one. They reach Kurt and some friends that are standing by the bar and hug him tightly as they wish him a happy birthday. Santana orders a round of shots for the group, passing them out as fast as she gets them. Her fingers brush against Rachel's as she hands her a shot glass, lingering longer than Rachel reasons is necessary for the transfer.

"To Kurt, who is getting old right before our eyes!" Santana announces, raising her glass into the air. Rachel lifts hers too and watches as most people in the group immediately throw the shot back down their throats. Santana, however, is looking at her like she's waiting for Rachel to take her shot first. Rachel doesn't know what the little flicked in Santana's eyes means as they lock on hers, but she maintains eye contact as she brings the shot glass to her lips and lets the alcohol burn down her esophagus.

Rachel is a lightweight. She doesn't drink very often - it's unhealthy for her vocal cords - but usually two glasses of wine are enough to turn her into a giggly, somewhat clingy mess of a girl. The shots don't hit her immediately, but when they do, she can literally feel her anxiety and inhibitions melt away.

"You look hot in that dress," she says to Santana, leaning in close so that her lips are only centimeters away from the shell of Santana's ear.

"We should sing together," Santana responds, a smile curling onto her deep red lips. She slips out of her chair and heads for her sign-up sheet like she knows Rachel won't refuse to sing with her. Rachel has lost the ability to be inconspicuous after the third shot and her eyes stay glued to Santana's ass until the moment Santana spins around to return to the table. Rachel doesn't even think about the fact that her roommate probably witnessed her leering because Santana's swing of her hips is too mesmerizing to glance away.

Their duet gets called an hour later and Rachel teeters on her heels as they make their way up to the stage. Rachel has a microphone in her hand before she realizes that Santana never even told her what song they were going to be singing.

The opening notes ring out into the bar and Rachel's heart plummets into her stomach. Santana would, of course, pick a song that literally expresses her loathing for Rachel. But Rachel is training to be a professional actress, so the fact that she's on the stage with Santana while being intoxicated is just a test. So what if she has to sing What Is This Feeling? from Wicked with some actual emotion? It's all just another exercise to prove how good she really is at this.

Things are going fine until Santana reaches for her hand and looks directly at her with anything but loathing. Rachel's voice catches in her throat for a beat and she botches her next line. Somehow, it doesn't matter. The tension between her and Santana is palpable under the bright spotlights. For the first time in her entire life, Rachel is glad for a performance to end. Her heart is nearly pounding out of her chest, she can barely think straight, and the way Santana is looking at her makes her feel so incredibly vulnerable that she needs to get away from it.

They stay at Callbacks until closing time. Kurt bids them goodbye on the sidewalk in front of the bar before he leaves in the opposite direction with a guy from Rachel's theatrical performance class. Rachel links her arm through the crook of Santana's elbow as they make their way to the subway station to take them back to Bushwick.

They're the only two people on the subway platform and Santana sings happily, her words slightly slurred from the liquor. Rachel doesn't join in - for once - because it's more fun to just watch Santana let loose and just be uninhibited and joyously happy.

The train is also empty and it's rhythmic movement along the tracks nearly puts Rachel to sleep. It's almost three in the morning and she's tired and Santana's shoulder is leaning against hers in a way that makes her feel warm and content inside.

When they get to their station, Santana helps pull Rachel to her feet. Rachel lets her and basks in the feeling of Santana's hands purposefully gripping her waist to steady her as they climb up the stairs to the street. It's a quiet walk home, but Rachel doesn't mind because Santana's arm is still wrapped around her waist as they make their way through the quiet, deserted streets of Bushwick.

Somehow they end up standing in the middle of the loft's living room with Santana's hand still resting against the small of Rachel's back almost protectively.

"Night, Rach," Santana says simply, and she moves to pull away. Rachel, on pure semi-drunken instinct, spins into her until their faces are so close that she can smell the rum on Santana's breath.

Then she's kissing Santana like the pull between them has gotten to the point where she can't control it any longer. But Santana is also kissing her back and the blood is coursing so rapidly through Rachel's veins that she feels lightheaded.

She gets braver with every second that Santana returns her kiss enthusiastically until her hands are palming Santana's chest through the skintight dress. Santana whimpers and her own hands settle on Rachel's ass, pulling the fabric up Rachel's thighs as she squeezes.

When Rachel fumbles with the zipper of Santana's dress and the material begins to fall away, it's almost like a frost instantly settles over the room. Santana's hands release their grasp on Rachel's ass and she takes a step away abruptly, causing her dress to slip down even more.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," she says hurriedly, like it's her fault that this situation even started. "We're drunk and you're my roommate and you look fucking amazing tonight, but six months of sexual frustration is no excuse for me to ruin the best friendship I've ever had." Santana is rambling and Rachel's groggy mind can hardly follow what Santana is trying to say.

Sorry. Drunk. Fucking amazing. Frustration. Friendship.

She fights to make sense of what Santana is telling her.

"I want this," Rachel blurts out, wishing desperately that Santana would stop inching away and would start kissing her again instead.

"I can't," Santana tells her, shaking her head like she's trying to convince herself of the words she's speaking. "I care about you too much to fuck up this friendship. Night, Rach."

She's behind her own curtain before Rachel can even clear her mind enough to protest. Rachel has so much to say to Santana but she swallows it, figuring it's probably not a conversation that they should have while drunk anyway.

Only, she doesn't have the courage to bring it up while sober. She gives herself excuses as to why she doesn't tell Santana how she actually feels: it's late and Santana worked a double today, it's way too early and Santana is cranky before her coffee, it'd be awkward because Kurt is home too. For weeks she avoids the conversation, even though the words are constantly on the tip of her tongue, waiting to explode out into the open.

Santana helps her get a job at the diner, which actually means that she sees more of Santana than she has in weeks. They still don't get to talk much during shared shifts since they work different sections and Rachel is really in no hurry to discuss the implications of their kiss.

Dani has been working at the diner longer than any of them, but it takes a month of Rachel working there before one of her shifts overlaps with both Dani and Santana. Santana and Dani's instant connection from across the room is so tangible that Rachel almost feels like she's intruding on a private moment. She witnesses Dani's confident smirk and the immediate panic on Santana's face.

It's how Rachel knows that she's waited too long to talk to Santana. And despite the cinder block that seems to have settled onto her chest, she knows Santana needs her to be her best friend right now more than ever.

So she encourages Santana to just talk to Dani and calms her down enough that she won't make a complete fool out of herself. And then she watches as Santana makes her way over to Dani, her stride confident despite the nerves Rachel knows are going wild just under the surface. She feels frozen to the spot as she sees them flirt back and forth, Dani's eyes fluttering and her lips curling into a smile at whatever Santana has just said to her. Tears sting Rachel's eyes as she unties her apron, grabs her purse, and flees from the diner before anybody can notice her.

Santana and Dani are officially dating within two weeks. Rachel makes a joke about how fast lesbians move in relationships, and she tries, really tries, to be genuinely happy for Santana. It's so much worse because she actually likes Dani, even though she wishes she could just hate her. Dani is funny and kind, not to mention incredibly talented and beautiful. What hurts the most, however, is that she's so obviously perfect for Santana.

It's only four months later when Santana announces that she's moving into Dani's Manhattan studio apartment.

"Are you sure about this?" Rachel questions, trying to hold her own emotions at bay to be a good friend. It feels like she spends all of her time doing that lately.

"I don't think I've ever been more sure about something," Santana admits, a goofy smile playing at her lips. Rachel's heart sinks even further. This isn't a movie. She can't make some over-the-top, last ditch attempt to win the girl back. She loves Santana too much to put her through that kind of pain.

Instead, she helps Santana pack up her stuff and move into Manhattan. She attends their housewarming party with a perfectly wrapped chafing dish and ten dollar bottle of wine in hand. It's torture to watch how easily Santana and Dani dance around each other as they entertain their guests, pausing by one another for a quick kiss or simple touch as they pass. She smiles and lets Santana refill her glass multiple times because she can see that Santana loves her new role in this relationship.

Not having Santana in the apartment anymore feels really weird at first. They still see each other pretty regularly, but the TV marathons and late-night dinners have become Santana and Dani's night-in activity instead. Rachel misses her, but it makes her heart ache a little less to not overhear Santana giggling on the phone late at night or having Dani draped across Santana's lap on the couch when she gets home from class. The space makes her feel like she can almost breathe again. Santana moving out makes Rachel realize how much she needs to move on and that she might actually be able to do it if she doesn't have to see Santana wrapped in only a towel every morning.

It's Santana's bachelorette party. Santana is giddy and drunk and Rachel, as her maid of honor, stays by her side the entire night. Five years ago, she would have never thought that Santana would be getting married before her. In a week, she'll officially be Dani's until death parts them.

Rachel has had almost four years to move on, and on most days, she feels like she has. It's silly, really, considering that she and Santana were never really anything to begin with. Yet when Santana asks if she can sleep over for old times' sake, Rachel can't refuse her even though she really just wants to be alone tonight.

The limo drops them off at Rachel's building and Santana follows her inside like it's her second home. Getting Fanny Brice sparked Rachel's career, but she's still hardly a C-list celebrity and her place is nice, but modest. Santana heads right into the bedroom and rummages through the drawers until she finds something to sleep in. Rachel automatically averts her eyes as Santana strips down and she busies herself with getting the bed ready for them instead.

When they finally climb into bed, Rachel puts a pillow next to her side in order to keep a respectable distance between them. Santana sighs and tugs on the comforter as she gets comfortable. It's an awkward silence that hangs over them in the room in the darkness.

"Remember when you dated a gigolo?" Santana asks with a laugh, turning her head on the pillow so that she can look at Rachel.

"Brody wasn't my best choice in men," Rachel admits, staring up at the ceiling.

"You've never had great taste in men," Santana reminds her. The pang hits Rachel right in her gut. Santana is always honest, even when Rachel doesn't want to hear it.

"I have better taste in women, I think." She can almost hear Santana's gears turning. Despite Santana being her best friend for years, Rachel's sexuality is the one thing she never shared with her. She always feared that if Santana knew that she was bisexual, she would put the pieces together.

There were girls after Santana. For the sake of her career, they were usually kept casual and not discussed except on occasion with Kurt. Her public relationships were always with men and they were usually people that could help her reputation in the business.

"Do you remember the night of Kurt's birthday party?" Santana questions. "You know, back when the three of us were still living together?"

"That's when I knew I had good taste in women," Rachel tells Santana boldly, focusing on the ceiling as she keeps her tears at bay. She's past crying over that night.

"Rach…"

"There's nothing to say, Santana. Just please, please leave it in the past where it belongs," Rachel pleads.

"Rachel, I didn't know."

"I'm aware."

"I never wanted to hurt you. You're my best friend. You're the one that sat through all the times I cried over Dani and helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Why would you put yourself through all of that? Why did you never tell me?" Santana's voice cracks like she's on the verge of crying. Rachel wants to be mad at her for it. Santana is marrying the girl of her dreams in seven days. She doesn't get to be upset at Rachel for never telling her how she felt.

"Because you were happy and it wasn't with me. Because you and Dani are perfect for each other and I've never wanted to ruin that. But mostly it's because I loved you too much to ever let my own feelings ruin your happiness."

Santana is silent for a long time. Rachel focuses on controlling her breathing, deep breath in through her nose, slow exhale through her mouth.

"You know I love you, right? You're my best friend," Santana whispers into the dark room.

"I wouldn't be standing next to you at the altar while you marry Dani if I didn't know that, San. This is just the way it was always meant to play out." Rachel knows Santana needs to hear it. She needs to know that Rachel believes that Santana is where she needs to be and that she shouldn't be second guessing that.

"Rach?"

"Yeah, San?"

Another long pause.

"I could never deserve someone as amazing as you."

The tears sting Rachel's eyes again. She hates that she can make Santana doubt herself still. She knows that Santana didn't feel worthy of even their friendship after all the shit she put Rachel through in high school.

"You deserve to be happy. And that's with Dani."

"Thanks, Rach," Santana says, accompanied with a sniffle.

Rachel doesn't respond. It some ways, it's the closure that she's needed. She's giving Santana up for good. There's not going to be some big objection at the wedding that Santana is marrying the wrong person. Because she's not. They were just never meant to work out. But Santana and Dani were. And Rachel would stand beside her at that altar a million times over if it meant Santana was happy.