Summary: Rachel and Finn were meant to be together, that's what she always thought, but when fate drives their lives apart they go their separate ways, that is until Rachel learns of Finn's engagement.

Pairings: Finn/Rachel with Kurt/Blaine. Includes the rest of the Gleeks as well.

Author's Note: So this is my first future fic and takes place the summer the Gleeks are 22, right when they're all graduating college. It's a romantic comedy if you will and right now I have about 8 parts planned (although some of the scenes are taking on a life of their own and expanding further than I anticipated) I'm taking cannon up to A Very Glee Christmas and ignoring the current spoilers (unless something really awesome happens).

Prologue: If You Love Someone, Set Them Free, Then Go Back Out and Get Them

Rachel Berry took a deep breath and hefted the worn duffel bag of freshly cleaned laundry higher onto her shoulder. The lamp in the hallway fluttered faintly, obviously on the latter end of its days, causing the corridor to be quite dim. She noted that she would have to remind the maintenance staff of the dead bulb (again) or at least warn them of the severe risks of a lawsuit from one of the tenants (namely her) falling down the stairs or being brutally assaulted.

She muttered a few well placed obscenities as she rounded the corner to take on the next flight of stairs. Six flights. There were six flights of stairs that created a barrier between her and her tiny, miniscule, nearly nonexistent one bedroom apartment. Nothing like the enormous loft she occupied mere months ago. When she closed her eyes she could still picture the view off her balcony window. The sparkling lights that would dance across the glass and illuminate her entire apartment with the magic of the City. Brooklyn wasn't even in the city, not the part that counted at least.

Rachel lifted her chin defiantly and trudged up the steps. Life was an uphill battle and she was prepared to conquer it all, even if it consisted solely on twelve step intervals (not that kind, at least not yet.)

On step seven she heard the distinct and muffled sound of her cell phone from the handbag perched atop her laundry sack. She carefully tried to swing the small handbag into her reach without disturbing the equilibrium of the two weeks' worth of laundry piled on her back, and had to balance the pack on the stairway banister to avoid a tumble down the stairs. The phone rang for a third time and she felt a building anxiety.

If this call was the call she was eagerly anticipating, it would be life changing. It would be the end of staircases and the reemergence of elevators. It would be the end of microwave bean noodles and the welcome revival of nightly takeout. It would be the end of Rachel Berry: Serving Wench and the triumphant return of Rachel Berry: Broadway Star.

Fumbling through her purse she regretted selecting the slouchy hobo bag from the questionable street vendor outside Time Square because although it looked adorable with her Bohemian blouses, its single compartment was a crime against organization. On the fifth ring she was unable to feign patients any longer and began to hurl the contents of her purse down the stairs. She feared for any of her neighbors who were braving the journey up to the sixth floor of this walk up at 8:56PM, as they probably hadn't read about the 85% chance of a protein bar and crumpled receipt shower in the evening's forecast.

Victoriously, she finally grasped the signing phone just in time to watch the display switch to the "Missed Call" screen. She briefly mourned the missed opportunity before regaining her composure. She got the part whether she spoke to the agent in person or not, she reminded herself. In fact, hearing of her new role via voice message would allow her to celebrate with the reckless abandon that came along with the confirmation that she, Rachel Berry was no one hit wonder. Because it wasn't like she was desperate to get work. No matter what her current situation seemed to imply.

She kept her cell phone clasped firmly in her hand to anticipate the chirp that indicated a new voice message had been logged as she made her way up the last few steps to her apartment. Tossing her laundry onto her bed to be dealt with later, she clicked through her phone menu to discover she had already missed a message. The hum of washing machines and dryers were so loud at the Laundromat she hadn't even heard it ring.

Rachel recognized the number as her fathers' and quickly typed in the security code on her voicemail to listen.

"Rachel honey, it's your father. We haven't heard from you in a few weeks and you missed the last family dinner… we just want to make sure everything is okay. Your dad and I are going up to the Cape for the summer and thought that you may want to join us. There's plenty of room in the beach house and we know how much you love whale watching off Provincetown. I know work has been tough and maybe some time off to clear your head will be good for you. Give us a call, that's not a request it's an order, and remember that we love you very much and although times are tough, your star will always shine brightest."

Rachel felt her shoulders slump as she allowed her eyes to scan her surroundings. The stack of newspapers on her end table that had gone untouched for weeks was dangerously close to buckling across the floor. She had meant to clip a few coupons from the weekend paper but had been ignoring it like the plague, because that would mean she needed help. The dishes in the sink were now overflowing to the surrounding counter space and she knew if sixteen year old Rachel Berry had caught sight of this disarray she would have thrown an epic hissy fit.

Without further delay, she returned her attention back to her phone and grinned at the confirmation of her newest voicemail. Dialing back into her inbox, she held the phone to her ear eagerly.

"Hello, this is Anna Richmond, calling from the Nederlander Theatre with regards to the 20th Anniversary revival of Rent. Miss Berry, we're calling to let you know that although we were tremendously impressed with your audition for the role of Maureen, I mean really truly impressed, we've decided to go in a different direction for this production. We look forward to the possibility of working with you again Miss Berry and hope you consider collaborating with us in the future."

The line went dead and Rachel nearly dropped the phone to the floor in shock. This wasn't the first time she had received an overly encouraging rejection message and their "kind" words were becoming increasingly hollow to her now jaded ears. She stared at the display of her phone for a long moment and cued up her fathers' home line. Her thumb hovered over the send button before retreating to the "End Call" escape.

Instead she decided to invest her efforts in something that she could control. Her laundry. She made the short trip to her bedroom but paused when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror.

It was like a ghost. A shadow of herself that crept through the darkness of her life. She took a hesitant step forward to inspect the image before her. Her eyes were dark and tired and she could trace the exhaustion from the inner corner to the apple of her cheek. She missed the sparkle in her eye. Finn had coined it "The Crazy," much to her displeasure, but she knew that that sparkle was her ambition and drive; it was at the essence of what made Rachel Berry who she was. Twenty two was much too young to lose that glimmer.

Shaking her attention from her self pity, she popped her iPod into its docking station and hit "Play."

"Let the lyrics be your guide," she said to herself. It was a game that she played from time to time. She would close her eyes and let the music envelope her and she would listen, truly listen to the words as if they were sage advice.

"Last night I had a dream:

I found myself in a desert called Cyberland

It was hot

My canteen had sprung a leak and I was… thirsty"

She flinched and dove towards her docking station, fumbling desperately with the buttons to flip to the next track but her futile attempts only sprang the song forward a few verses and the haunting song once again began blaring.

"I gotta get out of here!

It's like being tied to the hood of a yellow rental truck, bein' packed in with fertilizer and fuel oil, pushed over a cliff by a suicidal Micky Mouse!

I got to got to got to got to

Got to got to got to got to

Got to got to find a way

To jump over the moon

Only thing to do is jump over the moon."

"Shut up, Maureen," Rachel shouted at her MP3 player. "You don't know what's good for me!" Successfully she changed to the next track, only to be struck with an equivalent urge to scream.

"Just a small town girl,

Living in a lonely world.

She took the midnight train going anywhere."

Of course it had to be this song, she thought to herself. It was entirely typical of her life to get up on its high horse and point a mocking finger in her face while taunting, "Hey! Remember that time that you were happy? Because not anymore you're not!"

The song always brought her back to her sophomore year of high school. When six nobodies could join together and show that anything was possible. When the self proclaimed diva without a soul in her corner could win the heart of the high school quarterback.

She frowned. She missed Finn.

Her eyes darted towards the laptop balanced on her bedside table and she nursed her lower lip between her teeth. She shook her head defiantly and poured the contents of her laundry bag onto her bed.

"Just a city boy,

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train going anywhere."

Rachel held up a tee shirt and suddenly forgot the proper method to fold it. Her eyes lazily drifted back at the laptop that was suddenly screaming for attention.

She couldn't stop wondering what he was up to. They hadn't spoken in over a year and she had done her best to cut him out of her life entirely, since he was adamant to do the same with her. It's not like they hated one another, it was the furthest from that. They had grown apart and seeing or thinking about him now… it just hurt too much.

Sloppily folding the cotton tee she dropped it on the floor to begin the "done" pile. Next, she lifted up a black sweater. The color had since faded to a gray hue and the wide eyed owl that stared back at her had definitely seen better days.

"I like your sweater. It looks like the owl from those Tootsie pop commercials, which is like my favorite candy."

Running her fingers along the gold sequence, she felt her breath catch in her throat. She missed Finn a lot.

"Strangers waiting

Up and down the boulevard

Their shadows searching in the night"

She folded like a cheap deck of cards and abandoned her clothes for her attention seeking laptop. She flipped on the power and typed the password in with practiced ease.

She could already hear Kurt's delicious gasp before accusing her of being a "total Facebook stalker." Clicking through her bookmarks the page loaded and she was shocked to see the first entry on her News Feed.

Finn Hudson is engaged to Allison Potter.

Complete with a mocking pink heart to better emphasis the complete disaster she had stumbled into. She felt her heart stop and was truly convinced that the Earth had ceased to spin. Clutching to her bedspread she shut her eyes tightly and anticipated the inevitable loss of gravity that would send her spiraling out the window and straight to the peak of the Empire State Building.

She drew in a long calming breath, finally channeling the three years of yoga she religiously attended. Rebalancing her energy she lifted one hesitant lid to verify she wasn't dreaming.

96 people like this.

"Traitors," she muttered under her breath.

Kurt Hummel about time you changed your status, I was beginning to think the wedding I was planning due to occur in six weeks was a hoax because it wasn't facebook official.

Rachel gasped; whatever happened to his comforting words of "I'll never lose hope for Finchel" that he offered her while she was mourning the loss of the single most important relationship of her life!

Allison Potter I know, right? I had to hack into his account to change it! I think he forgot he even had a facebook page. Note that his profile picture is no longer circa 2010!

Against her better judgment, Rachel clicked on Finn's profile page to see that the picture she had selected when setting up his profile the summer before junior year (the one she had taken on her cell phone, while spending a lazy afternoon at the elementary school playground and he was stretched out on the turnstile with his sunglasses pushed up the bridge of his nose) had been replaced with a clichéd image of two beautiful smiling people at a wine tasting.

She panicked and reached around her bed without allowing her eyes to leave the computer screen to find her phone, which had been discarded under a pile of socks. She began scrolling through her address book with the intensity of the CIA tracking terrorist activity. She needed answers, stat.

Tina, she considered for a moment. No, she was off in Massachusetts during most of the year finishing up her degree. Even if she were home in Lima for the summer, she wouldn't be caught up on details. She wasn't exactly the gossip capital of the club. Quinn, was an interesting choice, but she would probably gloat with some cruel assessment like "Looks like neither one of us will get him." Kurt, she couldn't call for obvious reasons, Finn could not know she was investigating his personal life, which eliminated Mercedes from the list of candidates as well due to the Kurt connection. Santana… Rachel couldn't even believe she still had her in her address book. Brittany was the next on her list but the chances of her giving a coherent recollection of events was completely unlikely. Which left… him.

She cringed tightly before dialing "Send."

"Is it true?" She demanded before he could deliver whatever smarmy line he had prepared for such an occasion.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" Puck replied, his voice innocently teasing.

"Noah, don't play games. This is serious."

"Let me guess, you were snooping around Finn's facebook."

She narrowed her eyes challengingly, even though she knew that Noah couldn't see it. "Is it true?" She repeated.

"Well yeah," he paused and she imagined him shrugging a single shoulder in his usual I couldn't care less demeanor. "It happened like forever ago."

"How?" Her voice broke and when she held a hand up to her damp cheek she realized she had began to cry. "We didn't even break up forever ago. How can he already be getting married?"

"Because Finn is the definition of whipped in any incarnation of a relationship?" He paused for a long moment. "What was he supposed to do? Wait for you forever? You're the one who left."

Rachel pulled the phone away from her ear and hurled it across the room. The sting in her eye was becoming more than she could bare and she finally gave in to the blood curdling sobs that were building deep in her chest.

"All by myself,

Don't want to be

All by myself, Anymore!"

Rachel lifted her chin high, slammed the lid of her laptop closed, and stood to her feet as tall as her five foot three inches of height would allow. Picking up her laundry sack, she stuffed all of her clothing back into the bag, not even bothering to fold the remaining items. She crossed the room and popped her iPod out of its docking station.

Turning on her heels, she pulled the duffel bag over her shoulder and marched defiantly out of her wretched apartment. Although the song had long ended she sang softly, "Don't stop, believing," as she danced down the stairs.

"Hold on to that feeling!" She sang with more gusto.

"Don't stop!"

...

Don't want to be a nag or beg or anything, but if you like it please, Please, PLEASE don't be afraid to review. It's so promising and inspiring and encourages others to check the story out (and you know makes me feel awesome about myself)

More coming soon...