Thanks for the feedback! I honestly wasn't expecting any reviews... I usually write Finchel junk and they always bashed St. Berry so I didn't really think many people would read this. Ha. But... I'm glad that people share my love of Jesse/Rachel... I think I just love Lea/Jon too much. They are too cute..

Anyway, I hope this chapter isn't a letdown. I'd appreciate some more feedback, for sure! =)

Also, broken hearted jubilee: I couldn't reply to your review so I guess I'll just reply here. =P I suck at summaries. I really do. I'm glad that the story doesn't suck too bad. Hope you continue reading!

Well, I guess that's about it for now. Most chapters I write are longer than this so I don't know if that's a positive or a negative... Do you guys like long or short chapters? I'll work around what you guys like.

Disclaimer: Do not own, sadly. The mistakes, which there will be plenty of, are mine though.

Jesse clutched his chest momentarily before letting his hand fall down to his side. He felt his heart ache for the girl but he knew there was nothing he could do. He slid down the tile slowly and rested his head against the wall once he was seated on the ground. The confusion in his head and the rapid beating of his heart were sending him signals that he just couldn't understand. He let his eyes shut with the hopes of escaping the place he was currently in. He thought about his wedding day which only worried his nerves more. He thought about singing on the stage and felt himself relax somewhat. His thoughts immediately wandered to a petite brunette with a powerful voice. He imagined them waltzing about the stage together, voicing mixing in a crisp harmony that would have people giving them standing ovations for hours on end. He smiled to himself before his eyes snapped open widely. He didn't know that girl nor did he need to.

He slowly picked himself up from the floor and walked back into the room he had previously been in. He felt somewhat intrusive for going through the girl's personal items and such but something propelled him to do it. He couldn't be held accountable for his own actions. He mused that perhaps what little alcohol he had consumed was messing with his sensibility. He brushed his fingers across the various items she had resting on a desk. He picked up a picture and studied it intently. He smiled when he immediately spotted a younger version of Rachel surrounded by a group of kids. She was youthful and alive, he noted, unlike now. He set the frame back down on the table and continued walking around.

"What are you doing?" He jerked his body around and held his hands up in the air. His features softened when he saw the brunette standing there. He then realized how the entire situation looked. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words would come out. She walked closer to him and stared him straight in the eyes. "Jesse, what are you doing?" He noted the nervousness in her voice and considered questioning her about it but came to the conclusion he was the one at fault in the situation at hand.

"I didn't want to leave," he replied honestly. She looked at him in confusion and frowned. "I wanted to find out more about you. I'm sorry. This was very intrusive of me and I will not do it again. I mean, I don't intend on coming back here but you understand what I'm saying." He inwardly cursed himself for rambling. Rachel bit her lip to hold back a smile. His ramblings reminded her of a younger version of herself. He noted the change in her and smiled softly at her. "I'm sorry, Rachel."

"It's okay. You wouldn't have found anything in here anyway. I forgot my jacket," she retorted while pointing to the article of clothing strewn on the couch. He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. She walked over to the jacket and picked it up before walking the Broadway star to her door. She leaned against the doorway and turned to face Jesse. He felt his stomach clench and his heart ache at the sadness he saw radiating from the brown orbs staring at him. "Go back to your party, Jesse." He nodded slowly and stepped back into the hallway as she closed the door.

"Wait," he yelled. He felt slightly odd doing this all over again. He was Jesse St. James. Girls wanted him and yet here he was begging some girl whose idea of a job was grinding into horny men to stay. He felt the need to be connected with her. "You should come to my show sometime. You know…the one that isn't about killer shoes," he joked.

"I'd actually like that, but I can't afford it," she admitted with embarrassment. He felt his heart breaking again but kept his signature grin in place. Rachel scratched her arm awkwardly before looking back up at him.

"That isn't the point. You seem to think you know a lot about music." She scoffed before placing her arms across her chest. He smirked upon realizing he hit a nerve.

"I do not think I know a lot about music. I know that I know a lot about music and I can assure you of this." Jesse raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth before scratching his chin. "If I were to go to your show then I know that I could inform you of all your flaws. I can still remember your last show. It was terrible. You sang flat and lacked emotion. It was robotic."

"Robotic? I sang flat? I thought you said you fell asleep, Rachel?"

"I did. I could tell all of this from my sleep. I can't even fathom what it would have been like had I been awake." Jesse scoffed and placed his hand on his hip.

He puffed out a breath of air and brushed the stray hairs back that had fallen in his face. "Fine then. You'll have a ticket waiting for you Tuesday, Miss Berry. Pick it up and be there. I'm sure you can find out where my show is. There are window cards of the show all around New York. You can give me your criticism after the show."

"You can expect that I will." Rachel stepped back and immediately flushed. "I'm so sorry, Jesse. I don't know where that came from. I'm not usually like that." He started laughing loudly which caused Rachel to smile slightly. She couldn't help but to think that his laughter was musical. "Wait," she deadpanned. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Jesse shrugged.

"It got you to come, right?" She didn't know whether it was the pleading look she saw in his eyes or the simple fact that someone was paying attention to her while she was clothed but she felt the strange need to say yes.

"Yes. I'll be there." He smiled brightly before turning on his heel to leave. "Going back to your party?" Jesse turned around and flashed her his signature grin.

"Ryan and the boys are probably enjoying themselves. I'm not going to rain on their parade," he replied quickly. Rachel forced a smile.

"Barbra Streisand reference?" He nodded.

"I had to make sure you were as good as you said," he responded. "I'm going to go home though. This really isn't my idea of a good time." He looked hesitant for a moment. "No offence to you," he whispered as an afterthought.

"None taken. You need to leave, Jesse. I'll see you Tuesday, okay?" Jesse looked confused but said nothing else. Rachel pushed him back out the door and shut it in his face making sure to turn the lock. She rushed over to the desk and pulled the drawer open before pulling out a syringe.

Ummm. Don't hate me?