Those Ocean Eyes

Chapter 37

"Go back to Broadway," she urges without a second's hesitation, clutching Cassandra's arm to emphasise her point. "Start auditioning again."

"I can't," Cassie informs her, but this time her tone isn't clipped and uncompromising, it's full of anguish.

"Cassandra, it was ten years ago," Rachel reminds her, and now they're finally having this conversation, she doesn't plan on letting it go. "They can't hold it against you forever. People change. They grow up. And trust me, when they see you dance – when they hear you sing - they won't be able to say no."

"I had my chance, and I blew it," Cassandra informs her bitterly. "They want someone new, someone fresh, someone the audience can root for. You were right the first time, Schwimmer. You're the future, and I'm the past."

"But you're better than all of us!" Rachel protests. "You said as much yourself."

Cassandra shrugs dejectedly. "It doesn't matter. I don't fit the mould. Not anymore."

"So you're not even going to try?" Rachel can't help but goad, and Cassie whirls around to face her.

"I did try!" she snaps, and her features are twisted with anger, "I spent a whole fucking year trying, Schwimmer. My Agent dropped me, I couldn't find anyone to manage me, I was a fucking pariah. I auditioned for everything – even the bit-parts – and they just laughed me off the stage and told me I was crazy, that I should come back when they turned One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest into a musical. They told me I was a nutjob so many times, I actually started to believe it, and I can't... I can't go through that again. I can't."

Cassandra's voice breaks, and Rachel's gut wrenches as she watches her try to get a handle on her emotions.

"Cassandra, I'm so sorry. I didn't know..."

Cassie turns away from her, hastily dabbing at her eyes, and the compulsion to reach out to her is so overwhelming, Rachel's heart actually starts to hurt.

"Come here," Rachel coaxes, wrapping the comforter around them and pulling her into a heartfelt embrace. Cassandra shrinks away from her at first, but in a mirror of her actions last night, Rachel refuses to let her go until Cassie gives up the fight and slumps against her.

"I'm not crazy, Schwimmer, I just wanted the performance to be perfect, that's all. This is the only thing I've ever been any good at," she mumbles into Rachel's shoulder, and Rachel presses a kiss against the crown of her head.

"It's OK. I know," she reassures her, even though she can only imagine how empty her life would be if she couldn't spend it doing what she loved, "I just wish things had turned out differently for you, that's all."

Cassandra snorts. "Yeah, well, you and me both."

They lapse into a pensive silence for a moment, and Cassie sinks back onto the bed, rubbing her face with her hands. She doesn't offer up any objections when Rachel scoots over to join her, so Rachel snuggles into her side, wrapping her arm around Cassie's waist.

"You could always advertise as a private tutor," Rachel hesitantly suggests, "It's New York, there must be plenty of students who need the extra help, or even just people who want to try their hand at something new. You could be like Jennifer Lopez in 'Shall We Dance,'" she enthuses, and Cassie rolls her eyes, turning onto her side so they're facing each other.

"What, having to pretend that Richard Gere actually has an iota of talent while he shamelessly ogles my ass?" she snarks, but she seems to be considering it. "I'd have to deal with idiots who think that mastering the box step is something to be proud of."

"And you'd have to be nice to them," Rachel points out wryly, "But at least it would tide you over until you found something more permanent."

"Yeah, and what am I supposed to put on my credentials? Recently-fired Broadway has-been seeks rich guy with a vague sense of rhythm to pay her rent?"