AN: So, I am not at all updated with Season 2 or 3. Hell, I've only seen a few episodes, most of which were from the first season. All I know is that Sebastian is a guy who likes Blaine, and Rachel is still in this confusing relationship with Finn. Basically, I deconstructed the entire thing so that no one will go 'THAT ISN'T HOW IT GOES RAWR I ARE MAD NOWS!11!111!1'. Hopefully, anyway. This is semi-AU, so don't get too surprised when I switch something with another. Also, I might continue it, if ever I had the inspiration to pick it up again. But for now, it's a oneshot. Cheers.

I miss the sound of your voice
Loudest thing in my head
And I ache to remember
All the violent, sweet
Perfect words that you said

Rachel Berry was not stupid, just mildly unaware of a lot of things that happen with her peers. It wasn't her fault that she didn't count them as competition. Well, save for the very few that were, but they were far away from her at the moment, and there was no other reason for them to pop into her mind other than the fact that she'd already used up most of the morning doing all she needed to do that weekend.

Rachel Berry was Punctual, with a capital P. The only reason she wouldn't be is if she had been mentally, emotionally, or physically injured the moment before a scheduled meeting. Sometimes she arrived early, but even that was a bad thing in her book. In fact, she's reprimanded a lot of people for not doing the same as her, as if it was the most infuriating thing a person could do to her, asides from stealing her limelight. But she had her moments of generosity. Sometimes.

She tapped a finger on a table in the Lima Bean. Her Chai Latte was halfway through, and the croissant she ordered was getting cold. Finn was late, again. It made her blood boil that this was the third time he'd done so the past year. And it was only January, so it was quite a big deal for her.

Rachel Berry was strict with chances. Three strikes, and you're out. With an exasperated sigh, she checked her pink Motorola, a vibration signaling a text. It was already quite obvious that it was Finn, and she rolled her eyes. She'd given so many chances, so, so, so many, for that boy.

Sry Rach, cant b there, emergency prac at sch.

-Finn

Not only did she have an impatience with people who were consistently late for everything, she was also a bit of a Grammar Nazi. Actually, make that a lot. She's forced a lot of people to text properly, and so far, only a few of the girls have complied to this request (order). Deciding that she didn't want any more stress than she already had, she snapped the phone shut and put it in her bag again, opting to ignore it for the rest of the day.

She leaned back, took a deep breath, and decided to contemplate what she'd done wrong this time.

"Bad day?" a somewhat familiar voice said to her, a cocky sort of tone to it. She opened an eye to peek, and saw an unfamiliar attire of black shirt, grey vest, and denim jeans. The split-second look wasn't enough to discern who it was, so she didn't answer.

A moment after, he spoke again, "Well, sorry for trying to act concerned," he drawled with a hint of sarcasm. She then decided that it wasn't Jesse St. Jerk, and sat back up again, opening her eyes to see who was trying to get her back to the real world. He had caramel-coloured hair, pale complexion, hazel eyes, and a grin on his face.

"And you are…?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, trying to confirm who this person was. She knew a lot of people who would just come up to her and talk like they were old friends, and often she was too tactless to think before asking who they were. This ends badly most of the time, but from the looks of him, he didn't seem to mind. Though, the affronted look on his face that appeared for a moment told her otherwise. Oh well, too late for caring now.

"Sebastian Smythe," he replied, stirring his cup of caramel macchiato, or from what she could smell, anyway. She tilted her head a bit, blinking owlishly a few times before accepting this as fact.

"Sorry, I couldn't recognise you without your uniform," she admitted a little sheepishly, reaching for a fork to start on eating her meal. He took a sip of his beverage, and she asked a question. "Do I need to introduce myself or am I still quite known within the Warbler ranks?"

He smirked at that. "A little bit too small for our ego there, Miss Berry," he retorted, wiping a bit of the coffee that accidentally spilled out of his mouth. She smirked.

"Compared to yours. I'd say mine was the Mercury to your Jupiter," she shot back, and he held a hand to his heart, as if he was shot in the area.

"It's not that big!" he disagreed, then slunk back into his chair, drinking a little bit more of the caffeinated beverage before answering. "Maybe it's as big as Uranus," he wiggled his eyebrows, grinning manically.

"Didn't think you were that vulgar, Mr. Smythe," she half-smiled, pleasantly surprised. "But then again, boys will be boys," she shrugged, offering half of the French delicacy. "Want some?"

He shook his head. "I just ate," he looked around then, mindlessly stirring his coffee again like it was no one's business.

"Looking for someone?" she asked, pointing out the obvious. He ignored the question until he nodded to himself, looking back to her.

"No one in particular," he murmured, taking two large gulps of his coffee. "What about you? Waiting for someone?" he asked, out of the blue. She frowned and contemplated on whether or not to answer him in that question.

Her phone vibrated at that moment, which muddled her train of thought for a moment, but ignored it altogether. "Nope, no one in particular," she grinned as she said so. He laced his two hands together, a sly smile on his face, but didn't push the subject.

"So, any reason why you're here in Lima, though your school is in Westerville?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow. He shook his head, a small spark of amusement in his eye.

"Just visiting some people."

"And these people mean an ex-Warbler named Blaine Anderson?" she asked, though it sounded more like a statement. He half frowned, a little put off by the mention of the person's name.

"It's complicated."

"Complicated enough for you to drive two hours just to go to some coffee shop? I think not," she tilted her head, something akin to a smirk on her face, her eyes saying 'you like him'. He sighed despairingly, though that annoyingly fake smile was still in place.

"Alright, Ms. Smarty Pants," he started. "I highly doubt that the person you ignored was an unimportant one," he smirked. She looked like she didn't care, but from the twiddling of her fingers suggested that he hit a nerve.

"No answer?"He said in response to the sudden silence within the table. She only sipped the now cold latte she had, as an acknowledgment of his statement. He shook his head, taking the now empty cup in front of him.

"You're a different sort, Rachel Berry," and with that, he stood up and took her hand and kissed her lightly on the knuckles. She held down the giggle that was building up in her throat. After that, he walked to the nearest trashcan, deposited his cup, and then waltzed out of the coffee shop.

The brunette tried her best to shake the giddiness she was feeling at the pit of stomach.

No, Rachel! You have a boyfriend! And he's gay, for Pete's sake! The internal banter raged within her, even after she'd exited the place, a bright smile on her face. A bright smile that wasn't caused by Finn Hudson, for a change.

She paused for a moment, just as she passed a public park. She groaned in realisation, then continued in walking.

Here we go again.