This is my first ever Glee fiction, so please, constructive comments are welcome. A huge thanks to Lay Lay X (you can find her under my favourite authors) for her beta-ing skills!

This is after Rachel and Finn's kiss in Showmance.

And I really don't own Glee. I wish I did, but I don't. If I had a choice, I'd own Glee, and Lea Michele and Mark Salling and Cory Montheith and Chris Colfer but I don't :(

Ever since I was young, I wanted to be a star. I wanted to see the name Rachel Berry in lights, while I stood on the stage, belting out the tunes that I had always loved. I wanted people to sit up and take notice of me, and Glee club was supposed to be the start of that. Glee was supposed to be the first stop on my way to superstardom. I didn't care that no one liked me... well, that's a lie. I did care. I wanted them to like me, and I wanted to be popular, but I told myself that it wasn't important. Because being famous was the important thing. Because being famous was what mattered. Not what a bunch of high school students thought of me.

But then Finn Hudson came along, and for the first time, I believed that maybe, just maybe, being a star wasn't the most important thing. Maybe having someone to wipe the slushy out of my eyes, or hold me while I cried... maybe that was what was important in life. And maybe, just maybe, Finn was the person who would gently wipe the slushy off my face, and rinse it out of my clothes. Maybe, just maybe, he would be the one who could put up with my diva tantrums, and hold me, because he knew that's what I needed.

I knew it was wrong to want him, because he was with Quinn, but I didn't care. Quinn was beautiful, the perfect cheerleader everyone wanted to date. She'd be able to find someone else within an hour, but for me, finding someone to put up with me was a once in a lifetime deal.

So we sang, and my heart soared. Maybe one day Finn and I could have our names illuminated together. Maybe we'd be the next famous power couple. We could be the next Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston... well, before they broke up. We could be the couple who everyone longed to be a part of. The couple that gave a new meaning to the term love.

He said he was hungry. I led him to the picnic. We talked. I poured him a drink. We drunk – virgin cosmos of course. He leaned forward and wiped a bit off my top lip. My heart beat faster in my chest. I said he could kiss me. He did. It was magical, it was perfect, and I realized that if I got to kiss Finn everyday for the rest of my life, then I'd sacrifice everything else.

I would stay in Ohio, and be a "Lima Loser". I wouldn't go to New York and have my name in lights. I wouldn't be a star. I'd stay here and raise a family with Finn. We may not be the next Brad and Jen, but we could be Rachel and Finn: Ohio's own power couple.

My mind whirled away, making plans, while my lips were kept occupied. Everything felt so right, like everything was falling into place. Like this was where I was supposed to be. Like Finn Hudson was my other half, and this was the start of our happily ever after. I, Rachel Berry, had found the person who'd put up with me for the rest of forever.

But then he pulled away. I tilted my head to the side, and my eyebrows furrowed. It's what I do when I'm confused. Was this supposed to happen? Was he supposed to pull away? I had no experience with this kind of thing: I wasn't a genius when it came to social situations. Maybe this was how all first kisses went: perfect at first, but then everything becomes kind of awkward.

If he said anything after that, I didn't hear him. All I saw was him standing up and rushing out. My mind constantly replayed the image of him pulling away and running out. Over and over again I saw Finn pulling away from me.

Was I that undesirable? I knew I was no Quinn, but was I that horrible? Was kissing me such a bad experience? He had seemed into it a moment ago... what had changed?

My eyes welled up with tears, and the sobs choked me.

The maybe's that had been swirling around in my head abruptly stopped, and I stood up. I was Rachel Berry: nothing kept me down.

There may have been pornographic pictures of me on the bathroom walls, and I may have had a slushy thrown at me almost every day, but nothing kept a smile off my face.

Packing everything neatly back into the basket, I allowed the tears to fall.

Shutting the lid of the wicker hamper, I allowed the sobs to engulf me.

While folding the blanket, I allowed myself to completely let go, and break down.

When the picnic was packed away, and the blanket sitting on top of the blanket, I forced myself to stop crying. I bottled up the emotions like I had done so many times before. It was something I had learned at one of my many drama classes: never let the world see you feeling

vulnerable.

Grabbing the picnic basket and blanket, I stormed out of the auditorium with my head held high. I ignored the laughs that were directed at me, probably because of my outfit, and I sidestepped the legs that were outstretched, waiting for me to fall over them.

For a brief moment, I had left Finn over cloud everything I had ever wanted. I had let dreams of our future outshine the dreams of my name in lights. I had let him get to me, the first person I had allowed in for a long time, and he had hurt me.

Maybe, just maybe, Finn and I weren't supposed to be together.

Maybe, just maybe, I was supposed to be alone for my entire life, a star with the world at her feet but no one by her side.

And maybe, just maybe, Finn had broken my heart.