Rachel nestled under the throw quilt, getting comfortable with a glass of wine and whatever reality TV show she could find. Closing night had definitely brought forth a lot of emotion. Of course, she was glad that the eight month run of Chicago was over and she could finally enjoy this small window of time off before the next audition, but it also brought a lot of sadness. She would definitely miss the cast and crew and if you knew Rachel Berry, you knew that being out of work for more than a week would easily drive her crazy. She'd promised her friends and family that she would take a little time to herself, no matter how hard, and simply enjoy life. After graduating from NYADA, she'd thrown herself into auditions constantly, landing a part in an off-off Broadway show almost immediately thereafter and she hadn't stopped working since. Now, at the age of 27, she was already the buzz of the Broadway world, a shoe in for her first Tony, and she hadn't even conquered Fanny Brice. To say she was accomplished would probably have been the understatement of the year. And if you let her tell it, she wouldn't have had it any other way.
The professional part of her life was almost perfect, but her personal life? Simply non-existent. After high school, she'd run to New York alongside her dear friend Kurt and had talked herself into an almost marriage that... well, didn't happen. Finn Hudson, Kurt's step-brother, had been her high school sweetheart and as much as she'd wanted to have that happily ever after at a young age, she'd come to find out, soon after their move to New York, that it was just a pipe dream. The one thing that had come out of her relationship with Finn Hudson, besides learning a lesson, was her now close-as-ever relationship with Noah Puckerman. The two had met doing a small side job and when Rachel and Finn parted ways, Noah decided to stick around.
So that was her life now. She couldn't truly complain too much, but she did find herself aching for that connection. She'd had a couple one-night stands, surprisingly with women, but nothing ever clicked and so she'd given up all together. Throwing herself into work helped a bit, but after the curtain dropped after every show she'd find herself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering why she couldn't find what everyone else had. It caused her to, in Rachel fashion, create a list of her own pro's and con's just to focus on something other than that ever raging need inside of her.
Sipping her wine, she flipped mindlessly through the channels before there was a knock at her door. Sighing, she placed the wine glass down, threw the quilt aside and padded her way over to the door. "Who is it?"
"It's me. Open up, I got something to tell you."
Rachel rolled her eyes as she flipped the latch open and slowly pulled the door back. "Anytime you say that, Noah, I tend to fear for my life." She smiled, stepping aside to allow him entrance.
"Oh, come on, have I ever harmed you once?" He asked with a sly smile.
"Well, no," she stated as she shut the door to her loft apartment, "but there was that one time that involved a CAT, tons of pudding, and me in a bikini."
"That was epic and you know it!" He exclaimed as he followed her into the kitchen. "Besides, you had fun, even if you won't admit it. I saw your face. And those two chicks? Totally diggin' you."
Rachel let out a laugh as she grabbed two water bottles before turning her attention back to the man and tossing one to him. "Yes, well, as much fun as I may or may not have had, I also almost ended up in jail. My Broadway career would have ended before it even started."
"It's nothing like that, I promise." He held up three fingers before taking a swig of his bottled water. "You've just finished yet another successful show on Broadway, Ms. Berry, and I think it's only right that we celebrate. What do you say?"
"I say, tell me everything that your celebration entails and I'll give you my answer based on the facts."
"Come on, you're my Jew Bro, let me do this for you. Please?" He pleaded, hands spread across the tabletop in front of him.
"Noah, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not your Jew Bro."
"Oh, but you are. See, this is how I see it. You were the almost wife of one of my very good friends, but then he went off the deep end, moved away and decided to forget all about me, which means that it's only right for you to take his place. And since we're both Jewish and I know that you're all about the ladies, that makes us bros. Jew Bros, to be exact."
Rachel shook her head at his logic, but didn't fight it. It was true, after the break up with Finn, the boy seemed to lose it a bit and before anyone knew it, he was gone. No goodbye, no letter, nothing. Noah had felt so bad one night that he'd called up Rachel and asked if he could come to talk. They shared a twenty-four pack of beer, talked, laughed and the morning after, it was as though they were best friends. "Thus the beginning of the 'Jew Bros'", Rachel thought to herself as she laughed aloud.
"So tell me, Noah, what insane ideas have you come up with this time?"
"MMA."
"I'm sorry?" Was that supposed to stand for something?
"You don't know what MMA is, Rach? Come on, Jew Bro, I thought I taught you better than that!" He watched as she became even more confused. "Mixed Martial Arts."
"Oh no!" She answered almost too quickly simultaneously throwing a hand in the air. "No, Noah, I will not be seen at an event that promotes the pummeling of another human being."
"Wait, just hear me out, okay?" He waited until she calmed down before continuing. "A friend of mine is fighting and I promised her I'd be there to support her. She's worked really hard to get to where she is and when I ran into her, she gave me two tickets. I can't go alone! Besides, you were watching Strikeforce with me for a while there-"
"I was also drunk." She chimed in.
"Drunk. Sober. Whatever. Look, I have two tickets, your show just wrapped and we're both aching for a night out. If it helps, we'll take the driver and we can both get hammered while watching some awesome fights. What do you say?" He watched as she carefully considered her options. "She's really bad ass, Rach. I think you'd like her." He smiled.
"I bet you do, Noah." She laughed. She wasn't really into sports much, but the look on his face was kind of hard to say no to. He'd perfected what he'd like to call the "Man Pup", which was a puppy dog look for men. Sometimes, she didn't quite understand her friend, but she loved him all the same. He was right on one account; she definitely need a night out. She needed to unwind from the eight months of rehearsals and shows and she was definitely looking forward to being drunk and out with one of her very best friends. "Okay." She breathed out,
