Rachel regretted accepting Kurt and Blaine's offer almost immediately. Walking around the large apartment, hearing her heels clack against the wooden floor, it was too silent-to a point to where it was unnerving.

But this was New York City. All she had to do was open a window and she would hear the Manhattan streets below, and it wasn't like she had much of a choice. Kurt might have been able to find a fabulous job that let him travel, and Blaine had a trust fund to keep him going until he figured out what it was he wanted to do with his life, but Rachel was still determined to be a star. It had been 5 years since they graduated high school, a year since she graduated from a small but prestigious theater college, and her dreams were not going to be deterred by a little thing like not having the money to afford living near Broadway.

Kurt had been the one to offer their apartment to Rachel when she first mentioned the auditions for a new musical coming out, but with nowhere to stay she wasn't sure she could do it.

"Well, I have to go to Italy for a few months-"he whispered the famous designer's name whom he was working for, though in a coffee shop in Lima, Ohio, no one would even be able to tell you who the designer was, much less what their work was, "well, they offered me a great placement in Milan for half a year. Blaine is coming with me, we already talked it over. But we didn't want to just abandon our apartment-or worse, have someone we don't know who could be a disgusting pig mess it up. It's perfect. You can stay there while we're gone."

Rachel bit her lip, thinking it over. Sure, it'd be great to have a place to stay-and for free from the sound of it, but still she was hesitant. She looked at Blaine, and he smiled softly at her. "I think it'd work out well," he agreed, squeezing Kurt's knee like he was squeezing her heart, and she took a deep breath. Blaine could convince her of anything, she was sure of that. It was a blessing and a curse, and at the moment, curse was winning that argument.

"Sure," she breathed out. "That would be fantastic. You guys would really be helping me out."

And that is how Rachel Berry ended up laying on Blaine Andersons bed one Sunday afternoon, while he was flying halfway across the world with his boyfriend-and her best friend-Kurt Hummel.

"Focus, Berry, where is your head today?" her director yelled at her after she flubbed yet another line.

"Sorry!" she squealed, clearing her throat and looking at her costar. They were due to go on in three weeks, and she couldn't afford to lose her mind until at least after opening weekend. Then her understudy could cover for a couple days.

She glanced at her script, and then threw it on the stage; Chris raised his eyebrows at her. She grinned at him, easing into her character once more, erasing her thoughts of Blaine as she strutted towards Chris-who was no longer Chris really, but now his character, the man she was trying to seduce, fluttering her eyelashes as she started her monologue.

Some nights she would go out with the rest of the cast, partying in a completely un-Rachel Berry like way. Some nights she would try fabulous new restaurants, go see other musicals (she had seen Wicked three times already and had only moved to New York a month ago) or occasionally just wander the streets.

But then there were the nights when she would lay very still on the king sized bed, looking around the pristine bedroom. Most nights she slept in the guest bedroom-it felt awkward sleeping in the same bed she knew Kurt and Blaine had slept in, fucked in. Not that she thought about that too much, she preferred to never think about Kurt like that if she could avoid it.

Blaine, however, was a different story. Her mind didn't seem to want to stop thinking about him. In any way.

So some nights, like when it was storming and she felt homesick, she curled into his side of the bed and turned down the lights, letting his faint scent that still lingered on his pillow comfort her while she tried to remember a time when Blaine wasn't the boy she was thinking about constantly.

Finn was more than a little late to most things. But Rachel never expected to open the door to the apartment and find him sitting on Kurt's couch.

"Rachel?" he asked, seeming confused.

"Finn?" she questioned back, even more confused than he looked. "How did you get in here?"

"The key above the doorway, I know Kurt keeps it there in case he gets locked out." Finn explained, looking sheepish. "What are you doing here? Do you know when Kurt's going to be back?"

Rachel crossed her arms, feeling nervous. Things hadn't ended well between her and Finn, more because they hadn't exactly ended. They just kind of…stopped being in each other's life. With Rachel wrapped up in musicals and theater and class, and Finn working hard for the football team at a completely different college, they had fallen apart. And never discussed it the few times they had seen each other since. They hadn't discussed anything really, just fallen into bed over and over only to walk away again. "He's in Milan I believe," she managed to sputter out. Even with her heart and mind wrapped up in her completely unreasonable crush on Blaine, Finn was still her first love, and he still had the ability to make her nervous.

"Why is he in Spain?"

"Italy," she corrected automatically.

"Oh, right, well. Why, and for how long?" he asked, completely unfazed.

"He got offered a job for a few months over there. He and Blaine left about a month and a half ago," she told him, and he nodded.

"Right, I must have missed that email," he said, taking a few steps closer to Rachel. She gulped, looking up at him once he was standing in front of her, close enough to touch. "How've you been?" he asked, lowering his voice as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Fine," she squeaked out.

"You're staying here?" he questioned, and she nodded, trying not to let her body react to Finn's movements.

"Yeah, just looking after the place and stuff," she mumbled, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I've missed you," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. She tried to back away, only to bump into the door.

"Finn, I-I can't," she stuttered out, Blaine flashing across her mind. Finn looked at her, his hand pausing its movement on her arm.

"Why? Do you have a boyfriend?" she shook her head no.

"I just-"

"It's not like we haven't done it before," Finn reasoned.

"Not in Blaine and Kurt's!" she squealed, and he looked at her questioningly.

"Why? You're living here now, and it's not like they'll be coming home tonight," Finn whispered, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Rachel gnawed on her lip, everything about this seemed wrong, but maybe that's why she should do it. Maybe, she reasoned, leaning up on her tippy toes to kiss him fiercely, it's a good idea to be a little wrong sometimes.

And I'm allowed to sleep with Finn, so there's that.

Opening night went off without a hitch. Finn was in the audience somewhere, but Rachel wasn't performing for him like she might have been two years ago. The boy she wanted to see her shine wouldn't be in the audience, he was busy in Italy with his boy, and as she took her final bow for the night, she let a tear trickle before going home and telling Finn it wasn't working, they were officially done-forever, and he had to leave.

The show was successful. Rachel Berry was finally a star on Broadway and her name was on the marquee. She got a silent smug grin on her face every time she saw it before ducking into the dressing room to prepare for that nights show, went on stage and performed her lines, played her part, sang her songs, and went home to repeat the same thing the next night.

A couple nights during the week her understudy would go on and she'd have the day off, where she would indulge in shopping and the general New York lifestyle.

The autumn weather was starting to get colder, and by the end of October, snow was starting to fall. Rachel tightened her coat before ducking out of the back entrance to the theater one night, hoping the subway wouldn't take too long to arrive with all the construction they had been doing on it.

"Rachel!" she heard behind her, her lips forming a smile before she even turned around, breathing out a "Blaine!" as she saw him running towards her, arms open wide to crush her in a hug.

They walked back to the apartment-his apartment that I'm living in-she thought briefly, their fingers entwined as he told her stories about Milan and traveling around Europe during Kurt's free days. She was a good friend, nodding and listening, smiling and laughing when she was supposed to. She had perfected that in the past couple years.

"So how long are you back for?" she asked, fiddling for the keys in her pocket as they arrived at the building.

He hesitated, and Rachel looked at him. Blaine was rarely ever hesitant or caught off guard. It was one of the things she admired about him. "Blaine?" she asked, and he just smiled again, back to normal.

"I'll explain upstairs," he said, holding the door open for her once she unlocked it.

Blaine managed to avoid telling her about it for a good half hour, distracting her only because he asked her what it was like to be on Broadway.

"It's fantastic," she babbled as he brought her tea, sitting on the couch. He listened as she went into the drama with her costar (he was head over heels in love with their director, who was straight), the costume disaster that made one of the understudies wind up in the hospital, the feeling of being on a stage and knowing an entire audience bought tickets to come see her on a stage.

"But, enough about me, you've been avoiding what I asked you earlier," she stated, taking a sip of her now mostly cold tea.

"Hm?" He asked, and she narrowed her eyes.

"What happened Blaine?" she asked, her hand automatically reaching for his knee to squeeze it gently, to let him know she was there. He froze and she jolted her hand back into her own lap, looking down at it in shame. She wasn't sure why that had seemed like too much, not when they were always so close, but she could tell from his body language when she glanced up that she had crossed a line.

"Look, it's late-"he started, and she nodded, agreeing only to escape to the guest room and spend her night wallowing in self-pity. I'm so repulsive he doesn't even want me to touch him at all, her thoughts gloomed through her head.

"Right, I have an early day of rehearsal tomorrow, I should get going to bed," she interrupted as she stood up quickly, grabbing both their mugs and bringing them into the kitchen. "Good night Blaine," she called out softly, though he was now sitting with his head in his hands and he didn't respond.

She quickly and quietly ran into her room, shutting the door soundlessly behind her before letting out the hopefully noiseless tears.

She snuck out early the next morning, not wanting to disturb Blaine as she left for work. She felt like she was doing the walk of shame, only far more ashamed.

Chris tried to comfort her when she got into work-he was, after all, in the complete opposite position of the same exact problem. They rarely had too much rehearsal to do as it was, they had nailed their characters-and performances-down almost immediately when they first got the parts. This meant they had a lot of time to talk and bond, which the director loved.

"So he just shut down completely?" Chris asked, looking forlornly over at their director who was in the middle of yelling at an understudy who had to go on in 6 hours.

"Yes. It was so strange," Rachel explained, "one minute he was fine and laughing and talking, and then I accidentally just grabbed his knee like so-" she demonstrated on Chris exactly as she had done on Blaine the night before and he nodded in response, "-and it was like I had jumped his bones or something."

"Maybe you should just jump his bones," Chris joked, and Rachel looked appalled.

"Even if he was straight-and he isn't, '100% gay' were his exact words-he's still dating one of my closest friends."

"I was joking sweetie," Chris told her, petting her on the head.

She sighed. "I know," she replied, mostly for herself. "I just wish it was an option because then I could at least do something."

"You'll figure it out doll. Now, we have to get to dance rehearsal to make sure you don't step on my toes tonight," Chris smiled, lifting Rachel to her feet. Rachel followed eagerly, desperate to leave her drama and insecurities about Blaine far behind.