Satin/Silk: Hey all, here's another Puckleberry fic; just a ficlet to encourage sunshineandstardust.
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee; it belongs to the creator (s) of the program and Fox. Expect OOCness due to my interpretation of how the characters would react in this unlikely situation.
Insomnia, misery, and incurable loneliness; those were the side effects of fame. No, they were the side effects of a broken heart. She shouldn't be lonely, she knew that and she hated it when she felt lonely but she was. She was so lonely. She loved and hated New York. It was the city that never slept so there was never a moment where she could forget. There were times that she desperately wanted to forget who she was and what she had sacrificed to get there.
But she was famous and that was what mattered right?
No, it wasn't. And it took a decade for her to realize that. God, she was stupid but it was too late now or so she told herself. She was too far gone and, not to mention, to proud to apologize. She was Rachel Berry after all, she didn't look to the past but focused on the future; even if it was suffocating her.
She laid there for a few more moment just listening to the snores of her boyfriend before she rose from the bed. Boyfriend? Jesse St. James wasn't her boyfriend; their relationship was strictly casual and most importantly physical. But his sexual prowess was flawed and left her wanting a fire that he couldn't produce. It was hard to admit especially after replaying the memories of them together in high school but Jesse was so ordinary. He like every other man, paled in comparison.
She slipped a silk chemise over her head and opened her room door. She left quietly, not wanting to disturb her roommates rather than Jesse. She moved gracefully through the apartment and stumbled across living room. Her heart was in her throat and she couldn't tear away from the television. There he was, singing her song.
Good times never seemed so good.
I've been inclined
to believe they never would.
Her blood was boiling. It was just a video; just a music video but it killed her. How dare he sing her song to someone else! How dare he make money off a beautiful moment that was simply theirs? How could he? The anger was slowly dissipating and her body started to shake. How dare he? How dare she?
Before her sob could escape her mouth; Kurt spoke, "It doesn't matter."
She was silent. Her body was still trembling and for a small moment, she had forgotten that she wasn't alone.
It happened every time, just like clockwork Kurt noted. He and Blaine would be on the couch watching TV. After a long day of work, it was the best way for Blaine to unwind and since Rachel was usually still at parties, Kurt obliged his old lover and watched TV with him. Then Blaine would doze off and Kurt would be left alone to surf the channels. And every time Puckerman would show up on the screen and Rachel would be there about to lose control. It was so hard to tell that she broke it off with him.
According to Santana, it had been a huge misunderstanding that never got fixed. So a decade later like every other time, Rachel was about to lose it all.
"It doesn't matter who he sings that song to, it doesn't matter how many teenagers pretend he's singing it to them or how many woman download it as a ringtone because it's your song. It will always be your song, we all know who his Caroline is and always will be."
Kurt never turned his head from the screen. There was a small whimper, every year it ate her up more and more. Sometimes he just wanted to force them in a room together to make things better. He hated to see her in pain even if he didn't act like it all the time but there was nothing he could do. It was their problem; the reason why half people from New Directions could never be in the same room together. It was a Puckleberry war and they had to work it out.