Chapter 2

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Rachel would never admit it, but sometimes she feels as though she's out of her depth here, treading the hallowed halls of NYADA. It was easy to feel special when she was the Glee Club's shining star; it was easy to believe that her talent was extraordinary when she was surrounded by the likes of Finn and Sugar, but here... here, it's going to take so much more than an emotive solo to stand out from the crowd.

Rachel should be loving every moment of this - being surrounded by people who share her passion for performing - but as she watches her classmates move with the kind of grace and fluidity she's still struggling to master, as she listens to their well-conditioned voices ring every bit as true as her own, she realises that perhaps, she isn't one-of-a-kind, after all.

It doesn't help that Miss July seems determined to crush her self-confidence beneath her 4-inch stilettos. She tells Rachel that she's devoid of sex appeal, that she doesn't have what it takes to succeed in the industry, and there are times when Rachel almost believes her. Then she remembers what she endured to make it here in the first place, how her self-belief saw her through high school and years of ridicule, and she won't let herself give up. If she has to work harder than everyone else to ensure that she's not destined for mediocrity, then so be it.

She tells herself that Miss July is only trying to hinder her progress because she's jealous of her potential; that her antipathy doesn't stem from Rachel's inadequacies, but her own. All Miss July has to cling to is a fleeting moment of notoriety, whereas Rachel has the ability to achieve what her teacher never could.

Pitying Miss July makes withstanding her scrutiny a lot easier, and Rachel's determined to keep on pirouetting her way through the constant barrage of insults. Still, as much as she tries to convince herself that Cassandra July is the product of broken dreams and missed opportunities - that she's so bitter and pathetic she can't make it through the day without drowning her sorrows in a vat of alcohol – Rachel can't deny that her teacher is one of the best dancers she's ever seen.

Miss July has the kind of stage presence that can't be taught - the kind that makes her utterly mesmerising to watch - and Rachel could learn so much from her, if only she was invested in building her up instead of bashing her down.

Rachel's immeasurably grateful that Miss July seems to be the only teacher who's immune to her talents, though. Receiving one of Miss Tibideaux's coveted Golden Tickets gives her a much-needed boost, and Rachel can't help but feel a little smug as she enters the dance studio - smug enough to walk away from Miss July when she sidles over to her, sporting that all-too-familiar sneer; smug enough to answer back when Cassandra tries to make an example of her in front of the class.

She knows she's on probation, but when Miss July challenges her to a dance-off and invites her to prove how good she's become - clearly expecting her to back down - Rachel decides to step up to the plate and come out swinging.

There's an almost dangerous intensity in Miss July's eyes as she crosses the room, glowering at Rachel over her shoulder, and Rachel feels a rush of adrenaline spiking through her veins as she hears the jaunty opening chords of 'All That Jazz.'
It's a song she perfected in grade school, and she decides to catch Miss July off guard by taking the initiative, sauntering her way into the middle of the room.

She opens her mouth to sing the opening line, but Miss July beats her to it, shooting her a sultry look that makes it clear this performance is solely for her. Rachel's stomach clenches with anticipation, but she chokes out a laugh, hoping that her blasé reaction will go some way to hiding her embarrassment.
She knows all too well what it feels like to be on the receiving end of her teacher's unabashed sexuality, but she isn't going to cower in the corner with her mouth agape this time, she's going to try and emulate it.

She watches the provocative placement of Miss July's hands and the seamless undulations of her hips as she belts out the first verse of the song, and it takes all of Rachel's acting skills to feign indifference when Miss July sinks to her knees, arching into the floor and eyeing her suggestively.
Rachel's resolve slips even further when her teacher rolls into a mid-air split, giving Rachel a deliberate and unprecedented view of her crotch.

Rachel bites her lip, digging her nails into the palm of her hand, and tries to drag her eyes away from the captivating spectacle playing out before her. She knows she can't compete with this, so she decides to embark on another mission to prove that - while she may lack her instructor's natural pizazz – she still knows how to work a crowd.

When her turn rolls around, Rachel gyrates against the barre like an oversexed pole dancer, trying to match Miss July's finesse with carnal passion. If the look on her teacher's face is any indication, it's having the desired affect, and Rachel suddenly finds herself struggling to remember lyrics that have been ingrained in her subconscious for years.
Miss July's eyes rake over her body and, for once, they're not remotely critical. Rachel impulsively grabs the nearest girl by the hips, hoping to provoke a reaction, and feels giddy when she sees the desire written plainly across her teacher's face.

"Find a glass, we're playing fast and loose. And all that jazz," Miss July sings in her melodic alto, and Rachel decides to capitalise on a golden opportunity.

"Right up here is where I store the juice, and all that jazz," she counters, throwing a sly look in Miss July's direction as she mimics downing a shot.

Miss July's eyes narrow, and she stumbles to her feet with a little less grace than usual. Rachel feels almost dizzy with triumph, until her teacher sneaks up behind her and wraps an arm around her waist, propelling her across the floor at a break-neck pace.
Rachel loses all sense of rhythm as the warmth of Miss July's hands seep through her leotard; she's still stuck on the implications of her teacher grabbing her at the exact same moment she started singing, "come on, babe, we're gonna brush the sky..."

Miss July spins her in and out of hold, and Rachel teeters precariously on her now decidedly wobbly legs. She stops moving altogether when Miss July performs a high-kick inches away from her face, because Rachel can practically smell her now.

It's heady and distracting and, at this point, Rachel knows she's lost the war. To add insult to injury, Miss July rounds off a perfect turn by falling into her arms, and Rachel has no choice but to support her, feeling her cheeks burn as her hands settle against the underside of Miss July's breasts.

She's virtually vibrating with need by the time Miss July pulls away from her, but being inadvertently groped doesn't seem to have fazed her teacher at all. With the aid of some male students, Cassandra proceeds to pull off a move that demonstrates the kind of skill and flexibility Rachel can only dream of possessing.

The only weapon Rachel has left at her disposal is her voice, and as they circle each other for the grand finale, she uses it to her full advantage, drowning out Miss July with the sheer power of her vocal range. She still can't help but notice how well their contrasting tones blend together, though, and Cassandra makes a valiant effort to match her note-for-note.

When they finish, Miss July is practically panting, and the look on her face is so far beyond propriety, Rachel finds herself rooted to the spot, torn between apprehension and arousal. For a moment, she actually thinks Miss July is going to kiss her - right there, in full view of everyone. Well, either that, or slap her silly.

She's almost disappointed when Miss July rapidly regains her composure and, within a matter of moments, goes back to critiquing her performance.

Rachel isn't going to let this woman cow her into submission anymore, though, not when she knows she has the capacity to get under her skin, too. She may not have triumphed in their battle of wills, but she put up a damn good fight, and she can see that her resilience is starting to unsettle her teacher.

Cassandra July isn't used to her students standing toe-to-toe with her and meeting her blow-for-blow, and Rachel wonders if she's imagining the burgeoning sense of respect that's starting to peep through her teacher's scornful bravado.

She walks out of the room with Miss July's words ringing in her ears: "you're not good enough .. yet"

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