A/N: As you can see the title, some elements of the book will be present in this story. I hope you will enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

Chapter 1 - August 2013

Rachel Berry was one to live a well‐regulated life; woke up at 6 am sharp, had a glass of water at normal temperature (which was prepared on the night table the night before she went to bed, of course), made the bed at 6:02, changed into workout clothes and did yoga until 6:35, made/had breakfast and washed dishes from 6:37 to 7:20, visited her next door at 7:25 to ask if she could do something for the day (mostly to walk the neighbor's dog from 7:30 to 7:55), took a shower and prepared for work from 8:00 to 8:55, and then went to her rehearsal at 9 am sharp.

Rachel moved to New York from a small town in Ohio after high school graduation. She lived in a dorm in the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts (NYADA) for a while but she had no luck with a roommate who sexiled her frequently. She appealed to her parents (two gay dads) for moving out and living alone outside of the campus. After apartment hunt for a month, she found this nice apartment building in Chelsea area, which rent was very expensive for a college student but her dads agreed on financial help until graduation since she was on a full scholarship.

NYADA was all about competition. Well, she was competitive. So nobody was surprised that she barely got friends in NYADA. But she had Mrs. Weston, who lived next door to her. She had been Rachel's closest friend in NY since she moved to the apartment. The seventy something year old widow lived with a dog and two cats. She was very vigorous for her age. That had been however until she broke her left leg skiing last month. Mrs. Weston used to be up at 6 am (just like Rachel) to walk her dog and Rachel got to dog sit for her since then. Her rehearsals (yes, she got a role of the off-Broadway production 'Avenue Q' just after her NYADA graduation and she didn't need her dads' financial support any more!) started at 10 am, so it was no big deal to walk her dog in the morning, considering Mrs. Weston had been so nice to her.

Such being the case, Rachel stepped out of her threshold and locked her door before knocking on Mrs. Weston's door on the dot of 7:25 as usual. What was not usual was that there was no answer to the knock and Rusty, Mrs. Weston's Jack Russell Terrier, was barking loudly. Rachel tilted her head, wondering if Mrs. Weston failed to inform her of the doctor appointment or something. After repeated knocks, Mrs. Weston still did not come to door and Rusty barked with vigor more and more.

Rachel cautiously tried handle to Mrs. Weston's door, which was unlocked. She frowned. She was startled as she let herself inside since Rusty delightfully attacked her. "Hey, Rusty." Rachel bent down to pet him and allowed him to lick her face. "Where's Mrs. Weston?" Rusty barked once and headed towards the living room. She widened her eyes as she followed the dog and entered the room.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no.

Mrs. Weston was facedown on her living room carpet!

Rachel's heart rate went up and up and up. What was she supposed to do? Okay, Rachel, don't panic. First, you have to make sure whether she's dead or not. Rachel took a deep breath and stepped closer to the old lady's body before bending down and touching Mrs. Weston's wrist to feel her pulse. Thank God, she had a pulse and still was breathing. Relieved, she immediately pulled out her cell phone out of her pocket to call 911.

Seven minutes later, the cops came with the ambulance. More fifteen minutes later, they made their routine inquiry to Rachel. They said that it looked as if Mrs. Weston had been struck from behind. She wanted to go with Mrs. Weston in the ambulance, she really did. But her dog needed to go out. So she excused herself to the cops and took the Jack Russell Terrier out after finished their inquiry.

When she returned to Mrs. Weston's apartment and fed Rusty and two British Shorthair cats, Napoléon and Ms. Bonaparte, the cops were checking Mrs. Weston's door for signs of forced entry and said there were none. It meant that Mrs. Weston probably knew her attacker, she probably let him (or her?) in of her own volition. Even more oddly, there was $358 in cash in her purse and her jewelry in her drawer that had been left untouched.

Rachel glanced at her watch. It was almost 8:40. She had to take a shower to go to her rehearsal. But before going the rehearsal, she needed to see Mrs. Weston because Mrs. Weston was her friend. After she asked the cops which hospital Mrs. Weston would be admitted, she called Ms. Sue Sylvester the producer to ask if she could have the day off. Sue didn't like it at all. So she called Mr. Schuester, the director of the show, to explain Mrs. Weston's and her situation and asked him to persuade Sue. Luckly Mr. Schue was a very kind man and he said that she could leave it to him and take care of her old neighbor.

When Rachel finally went to the hospital, she was informed that Mrs. Weston was in surgery; she needed to be relieved the pressure on her brain from a giant blood clot that had formed beneath her skull. While Rachel was sitting in the waiting room, the cops came to ask her if she happened to know Mrs. Weston's relatives or friends since they couldn't get in touch with anybody from her acquaintances. She recalled for a while and answered she had seen her nephew Brody (she remembered that Mrs. Weston had mentioned her nephew's first name and his job – a photographer or something - a couple of times) visit his aunt a few times for these four years but didn't know where he lived or what his phone number was, let alone she never had exchanged words with him.

Ten hours later, doctors emerged from the operating room and told her that it had only been partially successful, Mrs. Weston was in a coma and she might never come out of it. Which meant that someone had to be stuck taking care of Rusty, Napoléon and Ms. Bonaparte, which meant that someone was her since Mrs. Weston's nephew was nowhere to be found, at least right now.

Rachel sighed. She stood up from the hospital bench in the waiting room and stretched out her legs. Then she walked out of the hospital to go home, determined to take care of the poor old lady's pets.

When she finally got to her apartment, she remembered that she hadn't checked her cell phone after she called Mr. Schue. She pulled out the phone from her pocket and swiped to unlock it. There were five texts from her co-stars (Tina, Santana and Jesse) and three missed calls (all from Jesse). She scrolled the screen to read the texts.

I heard you took the day off from Mr. Schue. Was the old lady next to your apartment murdered? Sue's bitching today because of your absence. BTW, did something happen last night between you and Jesse? God, he was playing King Crimson's 'Starless' over and over in his green room during the lunch break. It was so depressing! This too is why Sue's bitching all day. Are you coming to the rehearsal tomorrow? Call me. – Tina

Tina got to be one of her best friends since they both got parts of the show. Rachel got a part of Kate Monster, Tina a part of Christmas Eve.

You probably didn't notice me but I was at the bar last night as well. You really have excellent arm, Yentl. That was quite a show. I was entertained. That means you and Jesse broke up? Because I never thought you two were right for each other. Good for you. – Santana

Rachel closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to hide her smile. Santana, who was a role of Lucy, always called her names and had a kind of sharp tongue. But beneath her mask, she cared about people. Rachel liked that about her, so they got to get along in the course of the rehearsals.

Rachel, where are you? It's almost 21:00. Anyways, I have to go. Mike's waiting for me at his restaurant. Call me when you're home. Don't mind what time it is. – Tina

Mike was Tina's fiancé and an excellent chef. Rachel always was jealous of their relationship. They were an epic.

Why didn't you pick up your phone? Are you going to be completely childish about this? Can't we sit down and discuss this like adults? - Jesse

This is so unlike you, Rachel. As I mentioned yesterday, the night with Claudia meant nothing to me, I swear. God, I should've never told you. I thought you were more mature. – Jesse

Rachel rolled her eyes. Jesse and she met at the end of her senior year in NYADA. Jesse was a graduate and an assistant teacher in NYADA at that time. They were very alike and soon hit it off. He too auditioned 'Avenue Q' and got a part of Princeton. She thought that she might find the one at first. Because of that, she took their relationship slow and waited to have sexual intercourse with him until she was ready (she was a twenty one virgin, thank you very much).

Last night after the rehearsal, Jesse took her to a bar near to the theater to tell her something important. He told her that he felt they had to reach the next level of intimacy. It had been six months since they started dating and it was not like she didn't feel the same way. She just needed a little more time to be sure that she was ready. So when she was about to tell him about it, he dropped the bomb.

"I feel I have to make a clean breast in order for us to reach the next level." Jesse cleared his throat, casting down his eyes. "I've been wracked with guilt since it happened."

Rachel frowned her brows. "What are you talking about? Since what happened?"

"Remember I auditioned a TV commercial last March?" He checked her face carefully.

Rachel remembered the day. After finished the audition, Jesse called her to cancel the dinner date with her since he had to have a dinner with the producer and the other casts for the commercial that night.

Jesse saw her nodding as he continued. "Um, there was no dinner with the producer and the other casts."

Confused, Rachel asked. "Then what did you do that night?"

Jesse took a deep breath before confessing. "Actually I went to a dinner… with one of the casts."

"With whom?" Rachel didn't like where this conversation was going to.

"Claudia Nylund."

Rachel widened her eyes. "The Claudia Nylund? The perfect blonde creature of a model who is on every cover of the magazines in this planet?" She shut her eyes and took a deep breath to compose herself. But honestly, she felt sad in spite of feeling anger. She knew she was not beautiful. Claudia Nylund was the most beautiful woman in the world and every single man, whether they were taken or not, would jump at the opportunity to have a dinner with her. If she could have an opportunity to sit at the same table alone with Taylor Lautner, she definitely would seize the chance.

She sighed. "Well, I don't like that you lied to me but it's understandable, you know, to jump at the opportunity to go to a dinner with the most beautiful woman in the world who every man admires."

"I'm not finished." Jesse sifted on the booth uncomfortably. "I-I slept with her that night." He blurted out. Rachel gasped and dropped her mouth open. Jesse immediately grabbed her hand on the table and pleaded. "None if it meant anything, Rachel. Please believe me. I love you, Rachel, please, please forgive me."

Rachel looked at his hand on hers for a while before turning her head towards her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend."I appreciate your honesty, but how can I trust you've never cheated on me with any other women?" She was surprised at how composed she was. "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore. We're done."

When she stood up from the high chair and forcefully brushed his hand away, she lost a balance and almost fell on the floor. Jesse tried to re-grab her left hand as her right hand holding her porch swung in the air which accidentally hit his face hard. He staggered by the impact on his face before letting go his hold of her hand. Rachel escaped narrowly from falling on the floor. She stood up straight and smoothed her blouse.

"I hope we'll act professionally at the rehearsals." Rachel tucked a pile of her hair behind her ear. "Goodbye, Jesse." With that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the bar.

Rachel felt her blood boiling remembering the last night event. She thought Jesse had waited for her patiently since he knew she was a virgin and she appreciated it. She was wrong. He was as same as the other guys. She couldn't believe she wasted six months of her life on him.

"Hello? Earth to Rachel?" Tina called out loud on the other end of the line.

"Huh?"

"It could've been worse, you know. He did you a favor, Rachel." Tina reasoned plausibly. "Did you really picture a future for the two of you? I mean, he loves King Crimson or Pink Floyd! Progressive Rock!"

"He loves showing off how profound his musical knowledge is." Rachel analyzed matter-of-factly.

"He really is argumentative by nature." Tina snorted. "Well, I gotta go. Mike's waiting."

In her bedroom, Rachel added in mind. "Okay, goodnight, Tina." She heard Tina saying goodnight to her before hanging up. She put her phone on the night table and set the alarm to go off at 6 am as usual before laying down on her bed, thinking how Mrs. Weston used to take care of Rusty day and night.

Rachel was exhausted. Not because of the rehearsal but because of Rusty. Jack Russell Terrier needed to be received enough exercise. Sure, she got to walk Rusty since Mrs. Weston broke her leg, but Mrs. Weston had never mentioned how much exercise the dog needed. Maybe the old lady had hesitated to tell her exactly what the dog needed when she walked the dog, not imposing excessive burdens on her. She finally understood why Mrs. Weston was so vigorous (she used to go to the gym three times a week for her age!).

Now Rachel had to walk Rusty to the dog park and gave him enough exercise for an hour in the morning, otherwise Mrs. Weston's furniture would be replaced. Which meant she needed to be up at 5 am. Her rehearsal usually was from 10 am to 8 pm and sometimes to 10 pm. She loved Rusty but she needed to be rest. So what else could she do?

"You can come over to have a dinner with us tomorrow night, can't you?" Tina asked at the lunch break. They walked into a restaurant close to the theater.

"I don't know. I want to see how Mrs. Weston is going after the rehearsal." Rachel felt bad for the old lady. "Besides, who can dog sit at night? He needs to go out at night too." She rolled her eyes as a waiter with a Jefrow winked at her.

"Rachel…" Tina sighed. She ordered her food to the creepy waiter before handing out the menu and looking at Rachel, determined to scold. "Didn't you say Mrs. Weston's worth six or seven million at least, did you? Her husband was Alfred Weston, the former Weston Food CEO, right? I think some alternative arrangements for the woman's pets could be made with her money. You don't have to take care of everything for the old woman. Besides, she has to have some relatives."

"It's easy for you to say let someone else handle Rusty." Rachel defended. "Her nephew, Brody, is her only living relative, but not even the cops have been able to find him to tell him what happened to her." Rachel sighed. "I know he lives somewhere in the city and he's some photographer working for a sports magazine or something, according to Mrs. Weston."

Rachel didn't add that she really got to be attached to the dog despite her exhaustion. He was so adorable. And if she could find her nephew, she might be able to walk the dog with him? She had seen him enter Mrs. Weston's apartment a few times, just the back view from afar. Despite the fact that Brody was a ladies' man (according to Mrs. Weston), she was sure that he was attractive because of that. And maybe he was nice since he visited his aunt, even though there were a few times for four years.

Too absorbed in her reverie (and Jesse forgotten completely), Rachel failed to hear the sound of some Latina's high heels.

"Brody Weston? I've heard his name somewhere…" Santana stopped at Rachel's table, tapping her forefinger on her lips. "Yeah, right. He had a stunning self-portrait on display in the Whitney for the Biennial, in which he was sans apparel. If you ask me, the man's a photographic genius." She smirked, sitting on the chair next to Rachel, beckoning the creepy waiter to take her order. "Though that may not be where his true talent lies, judging by that photo, if you get my drift."

Tina spouted out her water before looking up at her co-star in horror.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Like you've never seen your sweetheart's true talent." She handed out the menu to the guy with a Jefrow. "I'll have a crab cake BLT sandwich and a bottle of Gerolsteiner."

"Mike would never prostitute himself for photo shoots." Tina huffed as she wiped her mouth and the table.

"Did he have his own nude picture on display in the Whitney?" Rachel repeated, wrinkling her nose with distaste.

"To me, for some reason, he's a way more douchebag than Jesse." Santana pulled out her cell phone out of her bag and tapping the screen frantically. "I know some working at Sports Illustrated. I'm sure they know how you can be reached at him." She put her cell phone on the table and broached the bar incident between Jesse and Rachel. "Speaking of the douchebag…"

"I don't want to talk about it, Santana." Rachel folded her arms across her chest. "We're done."

"I'm not sure he agrees with you." Tina nodded towards the entrance of the restaurant.

Rachel and Santana turned their heads to the direction Tina had just indicated. Jesse, who was holding a bunch of flowers in his hands, roved to look for the table where Rachel should be sitting.

"Oh, God." Embarrassed, Rachel buried her face in her hands, trying to hide herself not to be into his sight.

"Why did he know where we would eat?" Tina whispered, leaning forward.

"I assume he tracked you down, Rachel." Santana laughed aloud in amusement, which ended up Rachel's demeanor in vain.

Jesse made a beeline for Rachel and handed out the bouquet. "I know I made a mistake. Please, don't break my heart."

Rachel rolled her eyes, refusing to take the bouquet. "I didn't break your heart. You did mine." She ignored tons of eyes in the restaurant. She could see out of the corner of her eye Tina and Santana trying to suppress their laugh but failing miserably.

"I-I'm gonna put these down. And this," Jesse put the flowers on Rachel's lap without permission before pulling an envelope out of his pocket and thrust it into Rachel's hand. "Please read this." With that he turned around and walked out of the restaurant.

"How embarrassing." Rachel said, examining the envelope.

Santana snatched the envelope before Rachel opened it. "Well, well, well…" She flared her nostrils in laughter as she read a sheet of paper inside the envelope. "It's Robert Frost's 'Mending Wall'. What does he want to say with this?" She snorted, handing out it to Rachel.

"'Good fences make good neighbors'… I got it. He wants to say you make him better, Rachel." Tina misunderstood.

Rachel shrugged. "Well, either way, completely off base."

"Yeah, what a pretentious intellectual." Santana agreed. When she was about to continue speaking, her cell phone went off. She grabbed it to read a text. "Oh, Rachel. Good news. No one seems to have Brody's number, but I've got an email address. I'll send it to your phone."

Tina clapped her hands. "Now you can leave the dog and the cats to him and come over to my place tomorrow night."

"I guess." Rachel grabbed the bouquet before standing up. "Alright, time's up. Let's go back to the theater."

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