I wake with a jolt, almost falling off the edge of my queen sized bed but my quilt, tousled and tangled around my legs saves me before i free fall. I take my phone from the dresser and shut off the nagging alarm tone (When You Believe by two of the most iconic vocalist of a generation, except one OD and the other is a stuck up bitch now).

Sometimes I question which noise disrupts my slumber most - my alarm tone, the noisy, busy streets of New York a few storeys below or my upstairs neighbour whom insist on playing the clarinet every damn morning as if he was a classically trained rooster. Normally i have coping strategies for these disturbances like screaming profanities out the window or stabbing my ceiling with a broom to shut my neighbour up but today i am grateful. My best friend, Rachel Berry, has summoned my presence for breakfast and judging by the time, shes probably going to have me executed for ill-punctuality.

I roll out of bed and stumble into my bathroom. I cringe looking at my reflection - plain, pale with horribly tousled hair and dried up drool at the corner of my mouth. Im surprised the mirror didnt crack from my image. The water feels nice and warm against my cold skin, but even this calming shower does not completely rid my dread for the day that awaits me - a never ending series of meetings and projects. I pull on an emerald green sweater over a white dress shirt and plaid harem pants with dress shoes i laid out last night because planning your outfit ahead of time saves you a lot of present time.

My phone buzzes in that second and I instinctively answer it without checking the caller ID first. I wish I had because I am greeted with an angry, "Where the hell are you?"

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," I respond. My sarcasm does not resonate well with Rachel as she bombards me with a stream of questions and vile remarks about my incompetence. I listen, amused at her anger. Rachel has a whiny voice when shes angry so i cant take anything to the heart even if I wanted to.

I end the call after telling her to not get her panties in a wad. I gather my things and grab an apple from the fruit bowl of my kitchen isle on my way out. The crowd waiting for the elevator of my building resembles the crowd at a sale in Target. I opt for the stairs and soon emerge into New York City.

The air is crisp, but warm enough that I dont have to hug my own skinny frame. I have a theory that this city has never been blessed by the sun, but cursed with evil so cold no magical true loves kiss can thaw it. I was filled with optimism when I first got off the train from Lima, Ohio. Now Im just praying I make it to and back from work alive. It does something to you. New York is like a bitter break-up; demoralizing and depressing. But I love it. Its not a place for the faint hearted, its a place for the thriller junkies.

The sky is cloudy and the skyscrapers reflect sadness. I cross the dangerous road of Midtown, earning a few unhappy honks. The breakfast diner is in sight now, and I vaguely can make out a brunette girl with a loud red coat sitting underneath those seats outside the restaurants with a huge umbrella sheltering people from bird poo. Even from a distance, I feel Rachels icy glare on me. I pull a smirk at her as i draw closer and she rises to her feet.

I try to reason that there was heavy traffic but she points out that I dont own a car. "You know how particular I am about punctuality, Kurt."

Through the years Ive known Rachel, Ive sort of grown immune to what she has to say. Sometimes I even actively try to do things that pushes her limits. We settle into our seats and pick up our menu. A young waiter takes our order and hurries off inside. People are always in a rush. Young people in this generation generally move at an accelerated speed I dont think they stop to take in little wonders like the woman two tables from us, breast feeding her infant child.

"Its been so long since Ive seen you!" says Rachel. Shes one for sentimentality. "I think the last was when we went to watch Annie together."

"Yeah and it wasnt very good," I point out. The waiter arrives with our breakfast and we feast like kings and queens. Rachel fills me in on her life. Shes a Broadway performer, and a fairly good one. Shes build quite a name for herself in the city so I guess the city isnt completely cursed with sorrow. Only those who are high enough gets to bask in the selective warmth. She tells me how she will potentially be nominated for a Tony Award this year, and I scoff under the pretext of a congratulations. Its the cycle of friendship - youre happy for them for a while, then you start to quietly resent their good fortune because you dont have it.

"So whats up with you?" ask Rachel. I freeze in that second. The question probes me. How am I doing, I ask myself. Questions like this are the real causes of stress. It makes you lie to up your own standards. "Good as always," I suffice with. Rachel frowns at me and snorts. I wonder how hollow I must have sounded. "Im giving you an opportunity to brag. Youre working for Hugh Shepard! One of the top ten most high end fashion brands in the world! You have bragging rights."

I let out an awkward sound that lies somewhere in between crying and laughing. Rachel is so unaware of my world its almost comical that she would assume my world is full of glitz and glam. She works in the harshest industry ever - show business. You would think she knows about reality. "Im - paying my dues."

She dismantles me with her eyes, like taking apart an electronic device to get to the root cause. I hope my screws are tight enough she doesnt get a chance to figure out anything. "Youre feeling stuck." It is more of a statement from Rachel, after analyzing me. I sigh tiredly because it is far too early for a conversation about my life. My attention wanders away to a homeless man across the street, smiling at his bagel he fished out from a dumpster. I wish life was that simple for me. "Since when do you keep anything from me?"

"Im not stuck, Rachel," I argue. "Its just - a little slower than I thought it would be to be recognized."

"And youre only realizing that now? It took me 5 whole years to get to where I am," tells Rachel. I have to bite my tongue to stop the sharp words that threaten to leave my lips. I have an issue with people using themselves as examples for motivation. We all live with diverse struggles in life and we all cope differently. "My point is, Kurt, is to hang in there. You know that quote patience is the best virtue or something? Think like that."

I smile as genuinely as I can, but if you stay patient forever, what if you die before your patience pays off? Or is that the reward?

"Okay, not to steer this conversation back to me, but-"

"Dont you always?" I tease, but Rachel is indifferent to the remark. Frankly Im glad the conversation isnt about me anymore. I dont know how long Rachels pep talk was going to last before I eventually slap her.

"You must be wondering why I called you to come meet me today," says Rachel.

"For free breakfast and the pleasure of my company, duh," I say.

"Well, not quite," says Rachel. She extends out her hand to me and wags it side to side like a dogs tail. I frown at her, confused but then a decent sized diamond from her ring finger blinds me and I spray my drink like a water hose onto Rachel. She shrieks, and so do I.

"Finn proposed?" I scream so loud I can feel the judgmental eyes of the other breakfast-goers on me but I couldnt care less. Rachel nods her head in a subtle manner but the bright smile on her face is a loud Yes. I jump to my feet, so does Rachel, and I suffocate her in a bear hug. I cannot fathom into words how happy I am. "When did he? I am infuriated he didnt tell me beforehand! I thought being step brothers meant I had some form of seniority."

"Last week," tells Rachel and I am boiling now. I want to reach for my phone to call my stepbrother to both scream at him for not telling me first, and to congratulate him. "How dare he, and how dare you not tell me too!" I yell.

"Im sorry! I really wanted to but I also wanted to be selfish about it first and just really embrace my happiness," tells Rachel. I am angry, but I can understand. Happiness is like a baby out of wedlock; you want to keep it quiet first but when its born you flood your Facebook page with adorable pictures. "If its any consolation, youre the first weve told."

"So howd he propose?" I ask. Knowing my stepbrother, he probably hid the ring inside a cheese burger or something. I love him to death but Finn is not what you would call a romantic. "It was a little cliché. He took me to Claws, that new restaurant, and I found the ring at the bottom of my glass."

"He probably got that off a movie. He doesnt have it in him to pull something that cliché romantic," I say.

"It worked for me! I wouldve said yes in any way he proposed," says Rachel. Her smile for some reason gives me hope. Not in matrimony, but hope that if someone as neurotic as Rachel can find her little corner of the sky, maybe I will too.

"Im very happy were going to be related," I say and Rachel smiles shyly.

"Were not done," says Rachel. She reaches for her Prada purse and fishes out a white envelope out of it. It is sealed, but I can vaguely make out my name spelled at the front, in fancy calligraphy. When Rachel hands the envelope to me, I dont need to be a genius to know whats inside. I rip the seal hastily despite Rachels word of caution, and pull out a golden card that shines like a beacon of everlasting hope. On it writes these words;

You are cordially invited to witness the sacred matrimony of two soul mates.
Finn Christopher Hudson & Rachel Barbra Berry
Date; 6th of June 2014
Venue; Southampton, Coopers Beach
Time; Sunset

I let out another glass shattering, traffic halting squeal. Rachel tries to quieten me down because I have single-handedly managed to garner the attention of everyone at this diner but I cannot contain myself. "A sunset wedding? Rachel that is the female dream! How the heck did you manage to wrangle Coopers Beach?"

She brags about the little perks of being a semi star in Manhattan, how she has friends of friends of friends that have connections and strings to pull. I am aggravated just by listening, but her wedding already sounds like it will be legendary I want to be a part of this history. "I really wish I was you right now," I sigh.

"Awe come on, your day will come," she comforts but it is a hallow comfort. The kind of thing you say for the sake of saying it. "Have you dated anyone since...you know?"

An involuntary laugh escapes me. The mere vague reference of him is comical to my ears. I dabble with my omelette, stabbing it with my fork here and there and wishing the egg was this subject Ive been lured into. "Im a career gal, Rach. I have no time for potential sunset wedding candidates." I know Rachel sees right through me, but she is respectable enough to drop that topic. We talk more about the wedding preparations and I give as much suggestions as I can. I offer to help her pick a wedding gown and she accepts. With a quick glance at my Marc Jacobs wrist watch, I am horrified to learn the time. Rachel and I bid our goodbyes and I congratulate her again and again. I can sense her embarrassment, but I also know shes eating up the attention.

As I make my way to work, joining the masses in a stream of hurry, my mind wanders to the past and I rejoice realizing just how far Rachel has come since her high school ways. She is the very testament to how it gets better.