Hey guys. So here is my first ever attempt at a St. Berry story. If you like it review. If you have any opinions on the story, let me know. Love you guys!
Jesse St. James was a ladies man, and man about town. Everyone loved him. Well, everyone except his competition. And of course the one girl who would never stand to be in the same room as him again.
Rachel Berry was not the animal sweater wearing, knee-high loving girl who everyone knew her to be anymore. She was the dark haired, age appropriate clothed girl who everyone looked at. She didn't care what anyone thought of her. The only opinion that mattered was his...
Rachel glanced at her phone, finger hovering over the call button beside his number. She had to hear his voice when she told him she had finally been cast on broadway. He was right about her talent, it wasn't a dream anymore, but the inevitability that he had promised it would be.
Sighing she realized that him ever speaking to her again was the dream. Things had been dropped on a sour note and she had not talked to him in years. There was no possible way he would talk to her. Let alone even still being in possession of her number.
Putting on her red and black sundress and letting her hair fall in smooth curls down her back, Rachel headed towards the theater where she would be working for the next ten months playing Christine in the production of Phantom. She had met everyone except one character. The directors said that they had not found actors to fill a few of the character slots. Today she would meet everyone and begin reading the script.
Hailing a taxi in front of her apartment building, she hopped in and gave the driver directions for the theater. Just as she was arriving to the front door her phone buzzed.
I hope that is you at the front door, and I am not just seeing things
Rachel gaped at her phone, unable to comprehend the millions of feeling that flooded her heart. She looked around for the man who was obviously near by. As she turned her head to the left she caught a sight of his curly black hair. Staring at the only person who understood her, she could only manage one word.