That's So Advice

Rachel Berry was in hiding. After her flop of a TV pilot, how could she not be? Her entire life was nothing but a joke now. She didn't know which way to turn. This was her third month now living completely away from the rest of society. It seemed as though everybody had seen "That's So Rachel", and now Rach was an absolute and complete laughingstock. No directors would cast her in anything. Nothing she did was good enough. Everyone seemed to just try to make a fool out of her…although she had done a pretty good job of that on her own.

She was starting to fear that no one would ever take her seriously again. She had taken to ordering her groceries and having them sent to her—going out in public was something that was starting to terrify her. She was always mobbed by those who found it hilarious to tease her. Being Rachel Berry, receiving anything less than love felt…absolutely horrible.

This was the second apartment she'd moved to since the screwed up pilot catastrophe. One night, when she got a knock on the door, her heart tightened, worriedly. She didn't know whether to answer it or grab the baseball bat next to her couch. She'd had to buy a bat—the mobbing had been that bad at one point. She'd had to suspend her Twitter and Facebook accounts until further notice. Honestly, she wasn't aware anybody even knew where she lived.

Slowly, she stood, pulling the baseball bat with her and placing it next to the door just in case. Glancing through the peep hole, her jaw dropped. Of all the people she could think of to show up out of nowhere…

Rachel unlocked her door and swung it open. "Miss July?" she raised an eyebrow. "What're you—"

"God Almighty Schwimmer," Cassie smirked and stepped into the apartment, glancing around and rolling her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Cassie?"

"Cassie…" Rachel stepped back and allowed the blonde dancer room to enter. "Come on in…"

"Did you know that your mother is worried sick about you, David?" she sighed, sitting down on Rachel's couch, making herself nice and comfortable. A bit awkwardly, Rachel sat down next to her and pressed her lips together.

"I meant to call her…" she started with the long list of excuses she'd come up with to give to anybody who asked about her.

"Yeah, well, tell that to her, I'm sure it will go over super well…"

While trying to figure out how the hell Cassandra found her apartment, Rachel decided to just ask, "Is Shelby planning on visiting me, too? How…how did you find me?"

Cassie shrugged her off as if it were nothing. "I know people." She stated simply. "And yeah, she is planning on coming over here and talking to you, but she wanted me to visit first. She wanted me to be absolutely positive this was your apartment." She scoffed as if the mere idea of it was absurd. "The woman acts as if she doesn't trust me sometimes, I swear to god…"

"Maybe she doesn't." Rachel said bluntly.

"She's my friend, Schwimmer. I trust her, she trusts me. I honestly just think she doesn't know what to say to you yet. Luckily for you, I do know what to say and I have a feeling she thinks the same." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. This conversation was probably going to last for a while.

Rachel refused to be so calm. None of this was okay. Cassie shouldn't have to be here to say anything to her and the last thing she wanted was to hear the same thing from Shelby, of all people. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes watering with tears as she manage to choke out,

"Really?! How?! HOW do you know what to say?! I screwed up, Cassie! I was on Broadway! I played FANNY BRICE and I gave all of it up for this STUPID STUIPD TV show…" her voice got louder and louder with each passing moment. She picked up the closest thing to her—a vase—and threw it at the wall as hard as she could. It shattered into hundreds of pieces. "Of COURSE Shelby doesn't know what to say to me. What the hell else is she supposed to say besides "I told you so"?! SHE WAS RIGHT, CASSIE. I messed up SO badly and now NOBODY will hire me! So, what?! What the hell are you going to say to me that my mother can't?!"

The blonde dance instructor double blinked at the outburst. She'd known Rachel to be dramatic for sure, and she'd certainly seen one too many of the young brunette's diva fits, but she'd never seen her as hysteric as this. If it were the past—if Rachel were still that stuck up and mouthy freshman—Cass would've somewhat enjoyed said outburst and thought it an interesting form of entertainment.

But not anymore, and not in this situation. Now, after knowing the girl for a while, and after watching with the rest of the world as she crumbled to the ground, Cassandra July pitied her. She related to her on a personal level. She knew what it felt like to fall from so high up.

"Rachel." Cass shook her head, forgetting all aliases and petty nicknames that she would otherwise use to address the girl. "Do you honestly think I wouldn't know what to say to you right now? I know EXACTLY what you're going through. You mocked the hell out of me for my story—don't pretend to forget it now. You made a mistake. You screwed up. No one will hire you. Now you're that crazy actress, and why would anybody want to work with you?"

Breathing heavily, Rachel sat back down, remembering Cassie's speech that day Rach had called her a "YouTube joke". Rach's hands were shaking violently. She hadn't had a break down like that in quite some time. A month, at the least. It felt good to get all of that pent up frustration out once more. Sometimes you just needed to have a little attack like that.

She turned her head and stared blankly at Cassandra. Of course, how could she have so easily forgotten the story of Crazy Train Wreck July? She'd gotten so caught up in her own mistake, she forgot that she wasn't the first person to ruin her dream career forever.

"…Cassie…how do I fix this?" she asked softly.

The blonde shrugged slightly sympathetically. "You don't." she answered back, hating that it was the only answer she could give the girl. Hating that although SHE, the BEST worst example of a Broadway star, was Rachel's teacher, the girl had STILL made the same mistake that she had. She'd given up something amazing and had ruined herself in the process. Before Cass could lift her up, she had to scold her.

"Rachel I was your teacher. I warned you. I told you it was dangerous, entering the career you wanted to enter if you didn't change. WHAT did I say to you on that day I nearly kicked you out of my class?"

Quietly, Rachel whispered, staring down at her hands harshly, "All there is on Broadway is scrutiny and judgment."

"Broadway isn't the only place full of scrutiny and judgment, sweetheart." She informed her. "The entire world of media, the entire world in general—they are going to judge you for every single mistake that you make. Especially big fuck ups like That's So Rachel because let's face it, that was ridiculously TERRIBLE. How could you even think, filming that, that it would go over well? Haven't I taught you to use better judgment?"

She watched as tears filled the brunette's eyes and she sighed. The girl hadn't changed. She still had a hard time taking any kind of criticism, (of course, criticism was always hard to take…especially from Cassandra July), and Cassie was done making the girl cry. She'd made her cry for months and she wasn't going to do that anymore. This was one of her best friend's daughters and she was going to help her. Helping Rachel Berry had always been her main prerogative.

"Look, Rachel. I'm not going to pretend your situation doesn't suck, because it does. Believe me, I know. Everyone hates you and thinks you're talentless and nobody will hire you. I get it. But you have so much potential that people aren't seeing because their minds are clouded by the shitty pilot they all watched on that fateful night. You are talented, Rachel. SO talented. And once people see that, they'll realize how stupid they've been acting for the past three months…" Cass waved her hand as she spoke, emphasizing her point.

Scrunching her eyebrows, Rachel had to point out, "It's sort of hard to promise I have talent when nobody will even let me pass a 30 second audition process…"

"Yeah, that does seem to be the worst part, doesn't it?" Cass agreed, wishing for a drink right about now and doubting that perfect Miss Rachel had any in her cupboard. She didn't bother asking. She hated being this upfront and personal with anybody, let alone an ex-student. Rachel was lucky she cared about her and couldn't stand watching her waste her life because she thought she was done. "It's hell walking into an auditorium with hope and then being shot down before they even hear you sing. All they do is glance at you. They recognize your face. Train Wreck July and So Not Rachel…."

"Are you supposed to be helping?" Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Look, Rachel. It's a little rough right now, I'll admit to that. People are going to recognize you. It's raw and you're still the latest piece of crappy TV news. But do you want to know the biggest difference between you and I?"

After a moment of pause, Rachel shrugged, motioning for her to carry on.

"Do I have a choice?" she asked.

"The biggest difference," Cassandra spoke slowly, and carefully, in a low voice so Rachel would listen intently to her. "Is that I don't have a second chance on Broadway. I blew it for real. They don't want to work with me because they think I'm crazy. Because I had a fit. Because I became an alcoholic. It doesn't matter how talented I am, they aren't going to hire me. Luckily for me, Madame T has known me for a long time—since before the Crazy July Incident. I told you once that I don't believe in second chances, but for you I think there's an exception."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel was confused. "No one is going to hire me, Cassie, I don't get a second chance. You were right before, if you screw up once, that's it. You're done."

"No, Rachel. You aren't done. You're too talented to be done. You are your mother's daughter and you are destined for Broadway. You were cast as one of the youngest Fanny Brice's in the history of Funny Girl and you were persistent. You didn't give up on your dreams, and people admire that in a Broadway actress. You have not worked for your entire life just to be shot down and turn into a Broadway wash up like me. I'm not going to let that happen you. You're special.

"The difference, Rachel, between you and I, is that I threw a fit. You were a part of a crappy show. You didn't blow up in public about it. You didn't smash a phone with a baseball bat. No, you tried a new job, and it wasn't successful. You tried and you failed, but that does NOT mean that you stop trying, do you understand me? People will admire you if you get back up on that horse and try again. What they WON'T admire, is if you disappear and pretend like you never even existed. Am I making myself clear, Schwimmer?"

A tear slid down Rachel's cheek. She reached up her sleeve and wiped it off, slowly, nodding.

"I don't think you do." Cassie knew she had to be forceful. Like Shelby, Rachel was stubborn. She wasn't going to listen to a word Cassie said—or, at least, wouldn't take it to heart—if she disagreed. She had to truly believe what Cassie was saying to her or else all of this will have been for nothing. "Listen to me carefully, Rachel. You can't hide out like this anymore. Your mother is worried sick, your best friends haven't seen you in 3 months, and the press isn't getting any less anxious. You need to make a statement. You need to make a good statement. You have a chance to redeem yourself, because you are redeemable and THAT'S the difference between you and me. You cannot be a wash up. You cannot give up on Broadway, and you cannot become an alcoholic teacher at NYADA, do you understand now? You are Rachel Barbra Berry. What the hell good is hiding going to do to you? Absolutely nothing. Hiding will get you nowhere, Rachel. In order for them to like you again, in order for them to start hiring and admiring you, you have to get your ass back out there and try—"

"I DID TRY!"

"YOU have to get out there and PROVE to them that you are tough shit. That you aren't going to let ONE mistake define you—that you WILL NOT stand by and let people tear down your name because you are RACHEL BARBRA BERRY and you KNOW how good you are. You KNOW you're talented and you are going to use those talents to be the star that I KNOW you are."

Rachel was full on sobbing now. Cassie knew that this time, it wasn't because she was being too harsh. It was because Rachel knew that Cassie was right. She wrapped her arms around Cassie tightly and cried into her shoulder. Unsure how to react to the sudden contact, Cassie stiffened, her eyes wide. After a second she let her guard down, slightly, hugging the poor girl back. She was young and she was foolish but she was also brave. And Cassie knew she was going to make it through this. She was a survivor.

"You're right," Rachel's voice cracked. "You're right, I'm so sorry Cassie. I had it all…I had it all and I let it slip away…"

"But you're going to get it back. Aren't you, Rachel?"

The young girl nodded ferociously, tears splashing onto Cassandra's blouse. "Yes. Yes I promise. I won't disappoint you again. I won't disappoint Finn…I won't disappoint my mom again—"

Cassie had to stop her there, pulling her away from the hug and putting her hands on Rachel's face. "Listen to me, Rachel. You are not a disappointment, do you understand me? You are so bright, and so talented, and have SO much potential that sometimes it physically hurts me to look at you. You're a shining star. You've never disappointed me, or your mother, or Finn. We all love you. We're all your number one fans. We're all rooting for you. Now get your talented little ass out there and remind us why that is, okay?" she placed a maternal kiss to the girl's cheek.

Nodding again, Rachel whispered. "Okay. Okay I will. I promise."

With a small nod herself, Cassie squeezed the girl's hands tightly. "Life's been too quiet without you around, Schwimmer." She winked, before letting go of Rachel's hands and making her way to the apartment door, casting a final glance and then walking out it, closing it behind her.