take me back to the start

Chapter 21: Running Away

The end of October. (2 weeks later).

Finn took a small sip of the beer that was in one hand and stared at the small screen of his cell phone that was in the other. He was just drinking enough to get buzzed.

After his night with Rachel, he really had intended to sober up for good. But then when she had crushed him like the hand of God the day after (he sometimes missed Artie and his way of wording things) he hadn't been able to stop himself from relapsing. Luckily, the memories of the good night were shining just enough of a bright light on him to prevent him from fully jumping off the wagon, but he wasn't about to deny the comforting warmth a couple drinks a night brought him when he felt so shitty.

He was actually surprised at how well he was managing, all things considered. Rachel had told him that she couldn't be with him because she didn't want to become a 'hollow piece of nothingness'. What she hadn't told him was that that was what he got to look forward to after she walked out of his hotel room for good. Because that phrase summed up his current state of mind perfectly.

Filming for Wicked had finished the previous day and he was sitting alone at the bar in the intimate night club that the cast and crew were having their wrap party at. Rachel hadn't shown.

When production for the film had first gotten going, he and Rachel had been friends with a lot of the people that were now having fun around him. But they had pretty much ostracized themselves after all the drama between them started, and so now he really didn't know how to rejoin the friendly group of cast and crew without feeling totally awkward and lame.

And even though he hadn't shown up to set drunk again during the past 2 weeks (although he definitely had reason to), he still felt pretty embarrassed about how he had handled himself in front of these members of the industry during his dark period.

His head fell back down to his phone. He had texted her to ask if she was coming to the party when he hadn't seen her an hour in. He had really wanted to say goodbye you know? Even after all the stilted conversations and awkward interactions of the past couple weeks, he had just wanted to see her one last time. To try to convince himself that it all really was for the best.

Her curt 'no' in response had led to him to stupidly, in an 11th hour desperate last attempt, ask her one final time:

Finn: why do you have to be like this? why does it have to be this way?

(he still had a problem with word vomit).

Her extensive response glared at him from the digital screen in front of him.

Rachel: Apparently you're too weak to understand that I'm doing us both a favor. We're just plain bad for each other. If Glee club had never started and you had stuck to throwing eggs at me in high school, you wouldn't have an alcohol abuse problem now and I wouldn't have a serious mood disorder. In short, we'd both be a lot better off and healthier happier people. Hopefully it's not too late to regain a chance at normalcy, but I do know that that won't happen if we get back together. I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm trying to help you, to help us. Just accept that, so we can try to start leading separate, and therefor normal, lives.

He hadn't replied for fifteen minutes, just re-read the message over and over. Something about it was bothering him, something about it was so un-Rachel.

And then it was like a lightbulb clicked on in his head. He typed his response.

Finn: since when did you ever want to be normal?

She never replied.

Since when did you ever want to be normal?

Finn's words, Finn's voice, echoed in her head.