Title: To Me...

Warnings: Language

Summary: The road to success isn't as easy as she thought, but she'll always be a star to me... Fluff mixed with angst. Written for the Pr Drabble Challenge, though this is more like three interlocking drabbles that formed a one shot.

Prompt: Maths, Science and Chemistry.

It's been hard for her, trying to 'break into the biz' (as they say). It was always going to be hard, but with her talent and determination he kind of expected her to just talk her way onto a show.

But it's been hard, and he hates watching it slowly wearing her down.

---

They've been in New York for about six months when she comes home buzzing with excitement. She has an audition for a major new up and coming show. And the part is perfect for her.

It's about a young, head strong Jewish girl trying to find her place in the world. Shit. It was practically written for her. And she wants it so badly that there is no doubt in his mind that she would succeed.

---

On the day of the audition, she leaves home smiling.

But she comes home crying.

---

He's sitting on their crappy couch watching football when she comes in; her face streaked with tears, and when she sits herself down beside him, he wraps his arms around her and holds her close; seriously wanting to pummel whatever jerk made his girl cry.

"Are you okay, baby?" He asks softly. "What happened?"

She buries her face even further into his shoulder and shakes her head. She says something, but her words are too muffled to hear.

"You didn't get the part? They didn't like you?"

"No." She speaks again, her voice still stifled by her position.

"Oh. Don't worry, baby. There'll be other roles." He reassures her, rubbing his hands up and down her arm soothingly. "Fuck them if they think you're not good enough, because you could out sing any of those pussies."

He's trying to get her to smile but it doesn't work, instead she cries even harder.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, baby."

She pushes herself back, before speaking, still shaking her head. "No. Not 'no' they didn't like me. 'No', they did. And that's the problem."

"Huh?"

"The director loved me. He said I was perfect for the part." She says through the tears.

"Okay." He replies slowly, trying to understand why she's crying. "So how's that a problem?"

"It's a problem because the male lead hated me."

"What?"

"He said that I had no chemistry, no passion. He said that 'he couldn't possibly work with someone with absolutely no creativity and presence.'"

"That's complete bull. And you know it." He says outraged. "Why does it matter what that punk says anyway?"

"It matters because his father is producing show."

"Oh." It makes sense. Kind of. Because money talks. Especially in this town. "Well, fuck that. It doesn't matter."

He's trying to calm her down, but his words have the opposite effect. "How can you say that? This is my career, Noah. How can you possibly say it doesn't matter? I have no passion. No chemistry. No presence. No–"

He cuts her off with a kiss; pressing himself into her. "I'll show you 'no passion.'" He mumbles against her lips. And he spends the entire night making love to her; bringing her over the edge again and again until she forgets her sadness and disappointment; holding her tightly until she forgets her own name.

---

On the way home the next day, he takes a little detour to the theatre and waits until some douche with curly hair walks out. And he just knows from the way he's yelling at everyone that this is the jealous punk that said all that bullshit and made her cry.

It happens so fast, that the idiot doesn't even know what hit him. Which would be his fist.

"'No chemistry', my ass!" He spits out before storming off.

He doesn't even bother turning around to see the punk lying on the ground cradling his face, but he's wearing a satisfied smile all the same.

---

They both say it'll happen.

That they just need to give it time.

But slowly, the days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months; and before they know it, they've been in New York for almost two years.

---

They're living off instant noodles and crackers, because that's all they can afford right now. And the bills are still piling up. But none of that freaks him out more than when he comes home one day to find their shitty apartment completely stripped bare.

His first instinct is to think they've been robbed, but then he hears shuffling from inside the bedroom, so he switches to 'they're being robbed". He stealthily makes his way towards the noises, ready to pounce on the intruder, but instead...

"What the fuck?"

He enters their room to find a pile of boxes lining the walls, and she's sitting on the floor folding all their clothes into suitcases.

"We're going home." Her voice is dejected yet resolute, but there's no way he's going to just let this shit fly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He asks, annoyed that she's actually thinking about giving up but she doesn't answer him. She simply points to a pile of letters on the bed and continues packing up their life.

It's actually a pile of unpaid bills; notices and notices about the money they owe, but the one that's sitting on top makes everything fall into place. It's their bank statement, and according to that, they have exactly $7.32 left, and it's not even enough money for a bus ticket home.

"I've done the maths." She says; her voice hard and unwavering. "If we can sell most of our stuff, and get our full safety deposit back, we should have sufficient funds to pay off our debts and get home. And then we can forget this horrible period of our lives ever happened."

"No." There's no way he's going to let this happen.

"Excuse me?" She asks incredulously. She's surprised because even though he's still badass, he usually goes along with whatever she wants. Hell, that's how they ended up here in the first place, because it's what she wanted.

"No." He repeats, before grabbing the suitcase and emptying their clothes on the floor.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Noah?" She shrieks, outraged at his defiance.

"No!" He yells back with equal fervour before storming out of the room.

"What do you mean 'no'?" She stomps after him. "I said we're going home, so we're going home!"

"This is our home!"

She shakes her head fervently. "No, it's not. This is a failure. My failure. I don't even know what I'm doing here anymore. I don't belong here, Noah!"

"Stop talking crap, Berry! You're not ready to give up yet. The Rachel I know would never let some punks tell her she isn't good enough."

"What would you know? Who are you to decide what I am? Who are you to decide when I have had enough? Now I've had enough and I'm going home. With or without you!"

"Like hell you are."

"But I've done the math, and we can't afford–"

He grasps her face harshly in his hands, more harshly than he intended, but he doesn't care. He presses his lips to hers, bruising her with his kiss until she stops struggling in his arms.

When she does, he finally loosens his grip and rests his forehead on hers; holding her close while wiping the tears from her cheeks. "You and me, Berry. That's all the maths we need." He tells her, but deep down he knows it's not really true; there are bills to pay and there's just not enough money for them to continue living in New York.

But he doesn't tell her any of this.

Instead, he gets a second job.

Because this is her dream and she just wouldn't be her if she didn't have her dream powering her through life.

So there's no way in hell he's going to let her give up that easily.

---

So they wait.

It's long and painful; full of sleepless nights and loud shouting matches about going back to Lima.

But they wait all the same.

---

And then...

It happens.

She gets her break. It's not the big break she always dreamed of, but it's a break.

She is cast as the lead in a little off-off-off-Broadway production, and the pay is next to nothing, barely enough to cover her waitressing job. But it's a start.

And at least now, she has her foot in the door.

---

He loves how excited she is, because 'there are no small parts, Noah, only small actors' and if he knows her, she's going to make it big. And seeing that excitement on her face again makes all the long hours, all the double shifts and all the fighting seem worth it.

---

On the eve of her debut performance, he decides to do something special for her, because it's been hard, and he doesn't care what happens next, he just wants her to remember that at least they tried. And at least they got this far.

He takes her up to the roof, and he's asked their neighbour, Mr. Heeley, to help him to set it up, because fuck if he knows anything about science.

He can tell she's completely confused when she sees where he's brought her, and he's not surprised, because in their three years of living in this run down old building, they've never once been to the roof.

He covers her eyes and tells her to close them as he leads her to the edge.

"Okay, open."

She's even more confused than ever, because when she does open her eyes all she sees is a really big telescope. He laughs softly at her confusion before telling her to take a look.

"You see that star?"

"Yes?" She nods, but she still doesn't understand. "What is this about Noah?"

He grins broadly at her before speaking. "It's yours."

Her mouth drops and his smile widens, because it's the exact same look she gave him when he handed her that first slushie. "What?"

"Or rather it's you." He explains before taking out a piece of paper. He unscrolls it and hands it to her. It's a certificate from the International Star Registry and across the middle it reads: 'Rachel Barbra Berry'. "I had it named for you..."

---

The next few weeks are a blur. The excitement. The applause. The flashing lights. This small little show finally sets in motion the beginning of her rise to fame.

But in the years to come, she'll forget most of it.

She'll meet hundreds upon hundreds of faces that will all eventually blend into one. She will sign thousands of autographs, and take millions of photos, but none of it will really matter to her.

At least not as much as what he did for her that night.

Nope, none of it will even compare.

Because she will always remember what he told her that night.

And she will always remember that night as the night he made all her dreams come true.

---

"I had it named for you," He says with a smile as bright and as stunning as the twinkling lights behind him. "Because no matter what happens next baby...

...you'll always be a star to me..."

---

Alternate Ending

"Or rather it's you." He explains before taking out a piece of paper. He unscrolls it and hands it to her. It's a certificate from the International Star Registry and across the middle it reads: 'Rachel Barbra Berry'. "I had it named for you..."

---

She never does make it to Broadway. Ten years in this brutally harsh city, and they decide it's time to pack up and go home. They now have different dreams to pursue.

When they first arrive, she often meets old friends and acquaintances who know her story. Rachel Puckerman (nee Berry), who left Lima, Ohio in search of greatness, but came home to the echo of disappointment.

They all expect her to be broken. An empty shell of her former diva-self; lost in the despair of failing to reach her dreams. They meet her with caution; avoiding any mention of her time in New York, where her hopes went to die.

However, what they don't know is... none of it matters.

Not to her anyway.

None of them know what she carries around with her every second of every day. It's not the crushed dreams or broken promises. Nor is it the immense despair and gross disappointment.

Nope, none of it means a thing.

Because even though she never made it onto Broadway, she will always remember what he told her that night.

And she will always remember that night as the night he made all her dreams come true.

---

"I had it named for you," He says with a smile both tentative and hopeful; his belief in her unwavering. "Because no matter what happens next baby...

...you'll always be a star to me..."

Author's note: So me being a rather happy-go-lucky person, I kind of like it when everything works out to be all shiny (because if it can't happen in fanfiction, then when can it happen?). That's why my other ending won out over this one for my entry into the challenge. But I still wanted you to see the alternate ending, because ...well I guess I thought you might like it as well. Lol.

If you're a sucker for happy endings (like me) take the first ending, if you like a little angst, take the second...hehehe.

Anyway, I hope you liked this story. Thank you for reading :D

Edit: So xblissfuloblivion brought it my attention that the gift was very similar to 'A Walk to Remember' and I can't believe that I forgot about that movie, becuase I absolutely adore it! So I just thought I'd let everyone know that my subconscious most likely took the gift idea from that movie :D