You Have To Let Them Shine
Please do not hesitate to ask questions or leave fanmail in my ask box. While I may not have a large fanbase yet, I expect that as soon as I headline my first show, it will much more difficult to reach me in this personal a manner.
An RP blog
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“I really do like to perform.”
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I’m always gonna wanna make it move.
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- Quinn: Did you get home alright?
- Rachel: Yes, thank you. Are you okay? What happened?
- Quinn: I'm fine. Can we just drop it for now?
- Quinn: Please.
- Rachel: I--I guess. Did I do something? I really didn't mean to insult your playing.
- Quinn: No, Rachel, it's got nothing to do with you. I was just joking with that comment :P
- Rachel: I guess it's silly for me to assume it's my fault then. Um, I know you want to drop it, but I'm really worried about you...
- Quinn: I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just thrown you out like that. It's just..
- Quinn: It was my mom... but, really, when I'm ready to talk about it, I will. Okay? Promise.
- Rachel: Okay. I trust you. Thanks for everything today, by the way. I feel a lot better.
- Quinn: Thanks. And good. That's what I like to hear :) What are you up to now?
- Rachel: I'm just doing homework. I have a calculus test tomorrow. What about you?
- Quinn: Trying some pt exercises. My appointment is later this week.
- Rachel: Am I still taking you to your appointment? What kinds of exercises--do you need help?
- Quinn: Did you get home alright?
- Rachel: Yes, thank you. Are you okay? What happened?
- Quinn: I'm fine. Can we just drop it for now?
- Quinn: Please.
- Rachel: I--I guess. Did I do something? I really didn't mean to insult your playing.
- Quinn: No, Rachel, it's got nothing to do with you. I was just joking with that comment :P
- Rachel: I guess it's silly for me to assume it's my fault then. Um, I know you want to drop it, but I'm really worried about you...
- Quinn: I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just thrown you out like that. It's just..
- Quinn: It was my mom... but, really, when I'm ready to talk about it, I will. Okay? Promise.
- Rachel: Okay. I trust you. Thanks for everything today, by the way. I feel a lot better.
- Quinn: Thanks. And good. That's what I like to hear :) What are you up to now?
- Rachel: I'm just doing homework. I have a calculus test tomorrow. What about you?
- Quinn: Did you get home alright?
- Rachel: Yes, thank you. Are you okay? What happened?
- Quinn: I'm fine. Can we just drop it for now?
- Quinn: Please.
- Rachel: I--I guess. Did I do something? I really didn't mean to insult your playing.
- Quinn: No, Rachel, it's got nothing to do with you. I was just joking with that comment :P
- Rachel: I guess it's silly for me to assume it's my fault then. Um, I know you want to drop it, but I'm really worried about you...
- Quinn: I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just thrown you out like that. It's just..
- Quinn: It was my mom... but, really, when I'm ready to talk about it, I will. Okay? Promise.
- Rachel: Okay. I trust you. Thanks for everything today, by the way. I feel a lot better.
- Quinn: Did you get home alright?
- Rachel: Yes, thank you. Are you okay? What happened?
- Quinn: I'm fine. Can we just drop it for now?
- Quinn: Please.
- Rachel: I--I guess. Did I do something? I really didn't mean to insult your playing.
- Quinn: No, Rachel, it's got nothing to do with you. I was just joking with that comment :P
- Rachel: I guess it's silly for me to assume it's my fault then. Um, I know you want to drop it, but I'm really worried about you...
- Quinn: Did you get home alright?
- Rachel: Yes, thank you. Are you okay? What happened?
- Quinn: I'm fine. Can we just drop it for now?
- Quinn: Please.
- Rachel: I--I guess. Did I do something? I really didn't mean to insult your playing.
- Quinn: Did you get home alright?
- Rachel: Yes, thank you. Are you okay? What happened?
“I won’t tell a soul,” she swears, tracing an ‘x’ over her chest. “But someday you might want to play for people. You’re very good. I’m sure you’d still sound great on the piano, too. I just never would have pegged you to be so musically inclined.” She studies the pattern on…
“What?” She’s truly shocked. “I didn’t mean to insult you or your playing. I—I was just kidding. I’m so sorry.”
Perfect. She’s made one, small misstep. She’s assumed a familiarity she hasn’t earned and it has completely turned the tables on the whole afternoon. This is awful. She’s tried to keep things light and uncomplicated, but with one poorly received joke.
Quinn looks panicked, and all the color has drained from her face. “Are you all right?” Rachel asks. “Do you feel okay?” Maybe Quinn’s sick, or maybe she’s in pain. “Do you need me to go get your mom?”
The suggestion seems to rob Quinn of even more of her usual calm, so she instantly tries to take it back.
“Okay, I’ll go. Um, text me later or something? Let me know you’re all right?” She hugs Quinn’s shoulders and makes a beeline for the front door.
(via reallyrdhechdbhfvh)
Rachel hears Quinn’s voice coming from her room and hurries back to the room with two glasses of water. She must have been gone longer than she thought and she hoped it didn’t raise suspicion. She handed Quinn her drink and settled back onto the bed, where her phone lay,…
“I won’t tell a soul,” she swears, tracing an ‘x’ over her chest. “But someday you might want to play for people. You’re very good. I’m sure you’d still sound great on the piano, too. I just never would have pegged you to be so musically inclined.” She studies the pattern on the ceiling and considers Quinn’s request. “Why do you keep it a secret anyway?”
“What’s so funny?” She asks as Quinn doubles over with laughter. “I want to learn to play the guitar! Then I’ll be able to accompany myself on acoustic arrangements of Broadway standards if I ever perform small concerts at intimate venues.” She raises an eyebrow. “Plus, half the boys in glee can play it. It can’t be that hard.”
(via reallyrdhechdbhfvh)
Rachel strides out of Quinn’s bedroom to the expanse of the foyer. It’s so quiet in the house and her ears strain for any hint of floorboards creaking or footsteps falling. She doesn’t hear anything and so she ascends up the stairs. The kitchen is on the first floor, but she has a slight detour to make first.
It’s easy to tell which bedroom belongs to Quinn. There’s a WMHS pennant on the door with a small, shining cross underneath. Rachel takes a sweeping glance down the hallway, just to make sure she’s alone, before she pushes the door open.
She looks around the room for just a minute as she formulates her plan. She’ll have to ask Quinn’s mom to help her arrange the details and she makes a mental note to call when Quinn isn’t home. She pads down the hall and finds her way to the kitchen. She fills two glasses of water, one for herself and one for Quinn, before she heads back. She tries to conceal the grin that she knows is threatening to reveal her plan.
It’s quiet in the room now. There’s only the sounds of a few strums here and there. Maybe some vocalizing, and lyrics sung. Quinn didn’t even have to concentrate on the chords anymore. It was more of a muscle memory now. Her lips mouthed out words and her vocal chords produced sounds, but her mind and her eyes wandered.
Quinn’s fingers stop and a dead silence bathes her. She pauses for a few seconds before taking the guitar by the neck and the bottom, placing it on the bed. Rachel was taking so long, she was becoming restless. Damn chair. She began to wheel it toward the door. She grabbed the handle and looked around the hall, “Rachel?”
Rachel hears Quinn’s voice coming from her room and hurries back to the room with two glasses of water. She must have been gone longer than she thought and she hoped it didn’t raise suspicion. She handed Quinn her drink and settled back onto the bed, where her phone lay, mid-buzz. Another call from Finn, she suspects. She ignores the sound again and looks to Quinn, who is still bent over her guitar.
“Have you always played?” She asks. Quinn seems so skilled and practiced, like she’s been doing this forever (but to be honest, Rachel wouldn’t know the difference). Maybe she just has a lot of time to work on it.
Quinn plays a little riff and Rachel watches her fingers pluck the strings.
“Do you think you could teach me to do that?”
(via reallyrdhechdbhfvh)
It’s easy and simple and absolutely perfect. She could kick herself for not realizing what a good musical duo that make 3 years ago. They could have been stunning the glee club all this time. They could have formed a little band of sorts and played at open mics around town…
Rachel strides out of Quinn’s bedroom to the expanse of the foyer. It’s so quiet in the house and her ears strain for any hint of floorboards creaking or footsteps falling. She doesn’t hear anything and so she ascends up the stairs. The kitchen is on the first floor, but she has a slight detour to make first.
It’s easy to tell which bedroom belongs to Quinn. There’s a WMHS pennant on the door with a small, shining cross underneath. Rachel takes a sweeping glance down the hallway, just to make sure she’s alone, before she pushes the door open.
She looks around the room for just a minute as she formulates her plan. She’ll have to ask Quinn’s mom to help her arrange the details and she makes a mental note to call when Quinn isn’t home. She pads down the hall and finds her way to the kitchen. She fills two glasses of water, one for herself and one for Quinn, before she heads back. She tries to conceal the grin that she knows is threatening to reveal her plan.
(via reallyrdhechdbhfvh)
