closing walls and ticking clocks [full version]
Title: closing walls and ticking clocks
Rating: K
Character/Pairings: Jesse, Jesse/Rachel, mild Finn/Rachel
Spoilers: Up to 1.22, Journey
Summary: UCLA has everything Jesse St. James ever wanted. That is, other than one tiny brunette he left back in Ohio.
Life at UCLA is different.
Instead of snowy trees and bitter winds, there are sandy beaches and heat waves accompanied by rainless weeks. The people are different, too. Natives of Los Angeles are far more in tune with their culture than anyone back in Akron, Ohio could even imagine, with their debates on whether Wicked was better as a book or musical, excessive fangirling over Broadway legends, and impromptu sing-offs (although that all may be due to the crowd he keeps).
Needless to say, Jesse St. James fits in.
But there is something Los Angeles doesn’t have that Ohio does, and it’s just enough to make him almost wish he were back there instead.
--
He’s unpacking on his first day there when he comes across it.
Jesse is not a sentimental person-he’s not-but seeing the musical note alarm clock nestled in between his Stephen Sondheim collection and competition trophies causes a slight smile. It was the very last gift Rachel gave him. “You’ll need one in college,” she’d told him, as if not considering this before were preposterous. “And whenever you look at this, you’ll think of me and my unparalleled talent.”
While her words had gotten a chuckle out of him in the moment, they now come back to haunt him. As he gazes down at the oddly shaped electronic, a slight smile has turned into a blank look. All his mind can imagine is deep brown hair, pouty red lips brought on by not getting her way, and an idealistic enthusiasm that ensnared anyone who was willing to listen.
The alarm clock is stuffed in a drawer to be (hopefully) forgotten.
--
It’s no surprise to find him in the center of attention. Jesse St. James has a charisma to him that charms even the coldest at heart, and so he finds himself with large groups of people around him at all times.
One morning, as he tries to get his undercooked eggs eaten without thoughts of her, the topic of high-school romance pops up into conversation. He tries to appear uninterested while the others around him chime in.
Jesse nearly chokes when Alexandra passes off the question to him.
He just shrugs, hopefully not giving anything away as he changes the subject. Rachel Berry is his own little secret.
--
Early February, Jesse sees a girl that from a distance he mistakes to be her. He allows his mind to entertain plenty of ridiculous explanations before he realizes it isn’t. It takes a particularly difficult dance session to knock some sense into him.
Real: Rachel is in Lima, probably hoping she never sees him again.
What he wishes were real: She misses him as much as he misses her. She wants to see him as much as he wants to see her.
His dreams are beginning to infiltrate his reality.
--
Finals loom as the winter quarter draws to a close, and Jesse attaches himself to his computer with the intention of studying his life away. However, a stray link detailing Ohio’s 2011 Midwestern Sectional competition proves to be his first distraction.
The article itself is nothing more than two paragraphs long, stating a unanimous vote for New Directions and their advancement to Regionals. It’s the photo that is intended to be the main focus, taking up half the screen. In the middle are Rachel and Finn, clutching each other as much as they are the trophy. Seeing in full color what should have been obvious in hindsight has his jaw clench before abruptly closing the page.
Finn Hudson is a second rate version of him. His dancing is atrocious; his vocals could use a lot of work; his lack of common sense is the opposite of endearing. No one knows how to hurt Rachel Berry like he does. But she’ll always take him back. No matter what.
Her hypocrisy almost makes him resent her.
But more than anything, it makes him resent himself, because he had a chance to change that, and he ruined it.
Somehow, the alarm clock makes its way onto Jesse’s bedside table that night- but not for any practical reason. No, he takes it out to watch the tiny metal hands tick as the seconds pass, all the while wondering what the hell did he do?
--
The morning after, Jesse belts louder, kicks harder, and dances better than he has his entire term at UCLA. Instructors give him odd looks before praising his hard work. Classmates just watch on with dour expressions. And his showface? Brighter than ever.
Jesse St. James is nothing if not dramatic.
--
Shelby is the only one he stays in contact with.
Her e-mails are brief, based around anecdotes about Beth and how motherhood is working out- never about what they should be talking about. The subject is an unspoken taboo. He’s all too happy to keep it that way.
So when Jesse receives a novel length e-mail near the end of the school year, he is wary. It’s his luck that it is mostly about her impending return to coach Vocal Adrenaline (they’re such a mess without me, it’s like watching those deaf kids all over again).
In fact, it’s not until the end that she manages to sneak it past him-intentional or not, he’s not certain-that McKinley’s golden couple has parted days after Regionals. Shelby states “irreconcilable differences.”
It’s not much, but a small bit of hope blooms in his chest.
The plane ride back to Ohio seems much more appealing right now.
--
One week into the summer, fate almost brings them together again.
He’s perusing the music store in which they met, searching for something new. As challenging as UCLA is (more so than anything he’s ever experienced up to this point), it doesn’t allow him to experiment with different types of music. It’s over by the musicals section where he hears her voice over the stacks.
The Les Misérables libretto nearly drops to the ground as he fumbles, inwardly cursing his not predicting this. The store was in Lima (which begged the question, why was he there, but Akron didn’t have a functioning music store, so this was his only option), and he knows Rachel wouldn’t spend the summer wasting away.
Jesse’s hesitance causes him to take a step back, an indescribable emotion taking over. It takes him a moment to recognize what it is.
It’s not the time. He’s not ready for this. His feet inch him towards the exit without even thinking.
Some might consider it poetic justice- Jesse St. James, charming and charismatic, always confident in his own talents, too afraid to approach the girl that’s lived in his mind for over a year. Whatever it is, it’s confusing, and he’s never been like this before.
Jesse is so wrapped up in his own conflicted feelings, wondering why he’s afraid and what is it about Rachel Berry that makes him act this way, he misses the way she watches him as he leaves.
--
Cowardice. Pure cowardice.
It’s what had him running last year, and it’s what has him running now. Jesse realizes this halfway through his terrified retreat home while belting out the difficult notes to Queen’s The Show Must Go On (It makes sense. Freddie Mercury is his catharsis, after all).
It’s interesting how nothing like this ever occurred before her. Vocal Adrenaline was a breeding ground for over-confidence and passion. There was no room for emotions like nervousness, anger or fear, because they got in the way of the music.
Which is probably why he took the assignment from Shelby to begin with- to break out from the monotony. An acting exercise. He just had not expected it to work so well. When it did, he reverted back to his original self in order to protect his heart, and he did so in the most hurtful and awful way.
Truthfully, if he were put in the same situation again, Jesse knows he would do the same. The decision between a romance and the bright lights of his future wasn’t exactly a difficult one. If he did have the chance to do it over, though, he likes to believe he wouldn’t let his teammates get the best of him (but deep down he knows he would, because he needed them as much as they needed him).
And it’s something she needs to know.
He nearly turns the car around, but he keeps going. There is a better place to do this.
--
Even with this epiphany, it takes him over a week to gather up the courage to go to Nationals. But the moment he sinks into the soft cushioned seat, he’s glad for coming.
New Directions performs admirably. They still receive third place, but by the looks of everyone on the team, it’s enough to be there.
Well, almost everyone.
Jesse is leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway when Rachel exits the dressing room, muttering to herself about favoritism. He has to stifle a chuckle. And when he calls out, she freezes before turning around, fixing her eyes on him as if she wasn’t completely certain he was really there.
So he makes the first move, recalling the words he said to her on their first meeting. It’s now or never. “Your rendition of The Way We Were was flawed,” Jesse informs her. “You still completely lack Barbra’s emotional depth.”
When her face falls into that predictably adorable and sexy pout, red lips and all, he adds into her ear, “But you’re still the most talented person I know. Next to me, of course. Oh, and I kept my alarm clock. Just so you know.”
For some reason, she smiles.
And he thinks, maybe this is his second chance.