his gaze does not stray from the lock at which he fumbles. left, right, left, open. he grabs his spanish textbook from inside, shoving it under his arm. it is a symbolic gesture, it will mostly go unused as he’s sure mr. schuester would not mind if billy spends third period working on their lesson of the week. using his shoulder to shut his locker, he then looks at her, his immediate response a sigh before speaking in sarcastic tones: “ at present, some peace and quiet would be nice. ”
there’s some truth behind his jest, the aspiring star could be, well, a lot. but billy understood where she was coming from. her desire for control, for triumph, for the spotlight is justified. she’s a great performer. better than him, better than most if not all of them. but it’s billy who’d managed to write a decent song for regionals. “ it’s really killing you not being good at this, huh? ” he wraps a friendly arm around her as he begins his stride down the hallway. “ fine, i’ll help you. your headband thing was sweet. but you’re selling yourself short. i’m sure you’ve got better things to say. ”
she's used to that, the snarky looks and sarcasm-disguised insults as first reactions to her odd and blinding appearance. no one said being a star was easy ― or being at the bottom of the social pyramid in high school, for that matter. a struggle someone like billy d.unne didn't have to overcome. rachel resists her eyes rolling at the back of her head, arms tightly folded below her self-admittedly flat chest, waiting for him to get to the true answer to her very serious question. and when it came? man, did it hurt.
brunette was immediately taken aback: of course it was killing her to not be the best at something. that number one medal was the one thing she based all her self-worth on, and without it? she was expendable, and her ambitious character, too much of a hassle to bear. she'd lose everything at the drop of a hat (or so she thought). what surprised her was, billy had been the first person to take a good enough look at her to notice her anxieties for what they were: fear of not being good enough. her guard was down for a split second, a fleeting smile flinching in and out of her lips as she allowed billy to guide her through the halls, but the trademark jump in her step and tone sharp enough to cut through glass quickly made a comeback, “ of-of course i have interesting themes to write about, there are many, many hardships that come with having such incredible, inescapable talent at such a young age, specially in a small town like this: no one really understands what it's like, that destiny to become something great, so they mock what they can't understand. ”
rachel turns around to look at him and stops him dead in her tracks, demanding his full-attention, as this was her attempt at vulnerability: “ what i think's keeping me from adding songwriter to my impressively long list of credits is the fact that i've grown numb to all those struggles. despite being a stud in status-quo terms and all that, you're still in glee club, so i'm sure you've inevitably gotten slushied sometime. and maybe you feel the first slushie, the first two, the first twenty, but by the time the hundredth hits, the crushed ice just feels like an adjacent part of your face ― like the epilogue in les mis. and that's what i need you to help me with. rediscover the emotional connection to those struggles. if you think you're up to the challenge, of course. ”
