When the lights have gone down and every member of the glee club has disbanded, Rachel takes the stage once more.

The only thing better than being on stage in an empty theatre singing her heart out is being on stage in a theatre packed to capacity singing her heart out.

Tonight, she does not follow the others after rehearsals like she normally does. She returns to the stage because her heart is too heavy to carry her home. And because the stage is the only real solace she knows. It's the once place where she can be brokenhearted yet still understood.

Rachel's never really had her heart broken before, but she imagines it feels something just like this. Something like the sharp, cracking in her chest that radiates throughout her entire body.

The blow to her heart came after an emotional week culminating in the hardest of days. There have been sacrifices and promises and hopes and fights and let downs and truths.

The entire school now knows Quinn is pregnant and that Finn is the father. The pair has been exposed.

What Rachel had done to protect Finn, and by extension Quinn, was not enough.

The reaction from the school was exactly as Rachel had expected. Whispering in the lunchroom, gossip in the halls, and Quinn has been officially outcast by her own clique. They have turned their back on her now that she is different than them. Those who were once her friends act like they don't know her and those who don't know her, say the meanest things behind her back. She knows how it feels and she wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even Quinn.

Quinn has quickly become an outcast and Rachel cant help but feel sorry for her.

It is also in her sympathy for Quinn that she most feels her guilt for lusting after Finn. She knows it is wrong, but it still does not stop the hammer of her heart every time Finn is near her.

But, she's learning how to control it. Learning that, sometimes, you need to sacrifice your own happiness and your own wants for the sake of someone else.

It is a hard lesson for Rachel Berry to learn.

Slowly, though, those altruistic notions are beginning to sink in. She isn't sure if it was the look of horror on Quinn's face when Ms. Sylvester exposed her secret or hearing Finn's pained promises of hope or the simple fact that she is just plain sorry for the predicament Quinn is in. All of it has combined and placed her firmly in Quinn's corner. Even if Quinn doesn't want her there.

Which means whatever hope she had for herself and Finn can no longer exist.

She will be a team player. She will be a friend to her teammates. And together, they'll succeed.

That is what she keeps telling herself. Even if the conviction of those words faded when Finn took her hand during rehearsals and shocks of electricity sparkled through her body.

It is because of all of those beautiful, electrifying sparks that still glimmer throughout her body that Rachel takes the stage once more, before the microphone in the center.

And then the most peculiar thing happens - she doesn't know what to sing.

Though she has a virtual music library in her head filled with sad, hopeless songs for such an occasion, she cant think of the lyrics to a single one.

So, she does what any heartbroken star would do. She falls to the floor of the stage in a dramatic (yet graceful) heap and waits for the tears to come.

But instead of feeling tears against her cheeks, she feels a hand against her shoulder.

Her head snaps up, surprised by the unexpected contact. She is even more surprised to find that it is Finn crouching behind her, his hand pressed softly against her. The look on his face is one that makes her heart hurt even more and has her wishing she could remember any sad song in the world.

"Finn," she breathes, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "What are you doing here? Forget something?"

"No." He pauses and reconsiders. "Yes. Well. Kind of. I just…" He takes a deep breath and plops down beside her on the stage. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," she tells him coolly, looking straight ahead, unable to meet his eyes.

He shrugs. "Maybe not. Maybe I should be with Quinn right now. But, Rachel, you're my…" Finn struggles for the right word. Friend almost seems appropriate, but the tug on his heart whenever he thinks of her makes it almost seem too insignificant to describe someone as significant as Rachel.

"Friend?" she presses, her voice still cold and calculated. She has learned how to control her emotions as only the best actresses can.

"Yeah," he agrees reluctantly. The way she says the word makes it an even worse descriptor of Rachel. "Anyways, we're friends and I just wanted to make sure that you're okay. You did a lot for me and Quinn this week, trying to keep the secret about the baby and everything."

"It obviously wasn't enough," she snaps. Failure is not something Rachel is used to and the newfound sting it leaves is sharp and biting.

"But you tried. It was going to get out eventually. It's not like it's something we could have hid forever, considering…"

"Quinn seemed really upset," she says quietly.

"Yeah, she is. She's scared what everyone thinks of her. Of getting kicked off the Cheerios. Of her parents finding out and killing her. It's just… a lot."

"I cant even imagine."

"The thing is… I think you can," he tells her gently.

She whips her head in his direction. "What?"

"You know what it's like to be an outcast. Everyone saying mean stuff about you and looking down on you because they think you're different. That's what Quinn is now that everyone knows she's pregnant. And the thing is, you've been really nice to her since you found out. She definitely hasn't earned your kindness or your friendship, but you've stood up for her because you know how it feels."

"I just don't think anyone should have to be made to feel that way. Not even Quinn."

"Even if she doesn't appreciate it, I do," he tells her. "I actually think you're pretty amazing."

She feels her cheeks flush at his compliment and feels her heart start beating a little faster, even though she's trying to reign herself in. The power Finn has over her emotions is often overwhelming. Especially when he is so near.

"Rachel," he whispers her name and it is the loudest thing in the theatre save her booming her heart that she fears it just might knock her over. She looks up to find him even closer than before, steadying himself on his hands as he leans towards her. "I almost wish…" He stops himself before he can bring himself to say the words that are on the tip of his tongue. The thought of Quinn crying in his arms just hours earlier stops him from pouring those words - however truthful they may - out into an empty theatre.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Rachel tells him quickly. "Quinn was right about me."

He furrows her brow, looking at her confusedly. "Right about what?"

"I haven't gone out of my way just to protect you and Quinn. I haven't done it just to be a good friend or a good teammate. I've done it, because…" She takes a deep breath before spilling her guts on the stage before Finn. "I've done it because I like you. And I wanted you to like me back. I know how wrong that is. But everything we do is wrong."

He is not shocked by her words. Not even how brazen she is with telling him. It is her honesty that he expects. So, he says, "Like this?"

She nods. "Yes. Just like this. You shouldn't be here with me. It's wrong to go on acting like this. Acting like you're not someone else's boyfriend. Like you're not about to have a baby."

"You're right."

Rachel sighs, looking away from Finn and down at her lap, where she folds her hands neatly against her black skirt. Again, the pain that radiates from her heart nearly takes her breath away but she sits as tall as she can, waiting for Finn to walk away once more.

But he doesn't. Instead, he whispers in the still theatre, "It's a girl."

She looks up at him, once again surprised. "What?"

"The baby - it's a girl. I wanted to name her Drizzle."

Rachel cannot help but laugh, but when she sees that Finn is serious, she says, "That's definitely… unique."

He smirks proudly. "That's what I thought."

"And she's an even better reason as to why we cant keep doing this. Being alone. Sharing things. It's just too… hard."

He nods in agreement. "I really do wish things were different, Rachel. It really sucks how right it feels being with you even though it's wrong."

"I know. You know what they say, life's not fair."

For the first time, those words actually sink in for Rachel. She has always been optimist, so it is hard for her to even repeat the saying she has heard much too often. But she feels the weight of them now. None of this is fair. The bright young star is always suppose to get the boy.

She realizes now that Finn will never be hers. Not like he's suppose to be.

"That really sucks."

Rachel laughs. "Yes. It really sucks."

"I guess I'd better go home. You don't need a ride or anything?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm going to stay here a little longer."

"Oh, okay." Finn moves to get up, but on a second thought - second glance, actually, when he sees Rachel sitting there almost in a new light, her sad eyes and down-turned lips giving her a melancholy air - he leans over and presses his lips against hers.

Rachel sees stars.

They are not gold. These stars are Technicolor.

She kisses him back with the same intensity he is kissing her with. For she knows this will be their last kiss.

This is goodbye. Goodbye to what-if, to what might have been, to a future they will never have.

He pulls away at last, breathing a sigh against her lips, so that his warm breath tickles her lips. She does not open her eyes, instead she chooses to relish in the sweet, warm tingling that fills her body rather than watch Finn walk away.

When his footsteps have faded and she is once again alone, the sparks beginning to fade, she picks herself up and takes her place before the microphone once more.

The break in her heart is now fresh and real. The countless broken pieces press against her every nerve ending.

She knows this is what a broken heart feels like. It's much too painful to be anything else.

Before the microphone, the jagged pieces of her heart fueling her, she knows what song to sing.