July 18th, 1939

“We only have about a half an hour until the fireworks, Rach. I want to get a good spot.”

“I know. This will only take a few minutes!”

“I don’t understand why you need your fortune told so desperately,” Kurt sighed as he followed his bouncing brunette friend through the maze of stalls.

“You never know what I might learn. Maybe she’ll tell me that I’ll definitely get out of this town, Kurt. I could use the reassurance,” Rachel explained over her shoulder.

“Oh, you’ll get out of here, Rachel Berry. Do you know how I know?” Kurt asked.

“How?” Rachel said.

“Eventually the town will get tired of your hogging Macy’s piano, and will drive you to New York themselves,” Kurt smiled.

“Hmph, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Rachel said.

“Oh, come on, Rach, you don’t honestly think that a fortune teller is the way to secure your future?” Kurt asked.

“Kurt, the fair is only once a year. Now, the fortune teller might be the biggest fraud in the history of frauds, but I just want to see what she says,” Rachel said. “Either come with me and stop looking so horribly put upon, or wait for me here. I won’t be long.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and followed. She might be crazy, he thought, but at least she is persistent. Nothing ever got between Rachel and what she wanted, whether it was a fake fortune from a town fair, or the best time slot at Macy’s open night.

The fortune teller booth was near the entrance of the fair grounds. People were quickly walking in the opposite direction, eager to get to the edge of the field where the fireworks would soon start. Rachel was waiting just a few steps in front of the booth, looking expectantly at Kurt.

“Come on,” she said impatiently, “We don’t want to miss the fireworks.” She smiled, and grabbed his hand, tugging him forward.

An old woman was operating the booth. It was draped in old purple velvet, edged with faded gold piping. She watched Kurt and Rachel approach with narrowed eyes. She immediately reminded Kurt of an old cat, angry and bitter, watching the rest of the world through vengeful eyes, just waiting for a moment to take a swipe at your ankles.

Kurt shivered, even though the night air was hot and muggy.

The old woman didn’t say a word as Rachel requested her fortune and paid the required two pennies. She simply stared at Rachel, black eyes unblinking. Slowly she pushed the many folds of material away from her hands, and dropped her gaze to the glass orb on the table in front of her.

“Difficult times await you, child,” she said after several moments. “Or, you will be happy. The choice is yours. Don’t be blinded by the obvious.”

Kurt waited for more. Apparently the old woman was finished.

“The choice is mine?” Rachel asked uncertainly.

“Yes.”

“And will the choice be hard?”

“No. But you won’t see it immediately.”

“What will the choice be, exactly?”

“Happiness or the illusion thereof.”

“Aah…” Rachel tried her best not to look disappointed.

“Well, there you have it,” Kurt said, taking her hand again.

“I don’t think I learned much,” Rachel said.

“I’m not sure what you expected,” Kurt replied.

“You don’t believe,” the old woman said suddenly.

“Excuse me?” Kurt asked when he realised she had aimed the statement at him. “Believe what, exactly?”

“In fate,” the old woman said, grabbing his wrist. Even her fingers felt like a cats claws.

“If there were such a thing as fate, you would not have given Rachel such conflicting futures,” Kurt said slowly, attempting to pull his arm free of the woman’s grasp, but she held on.

“Rachel will choose to either accept her fate, or she will fight it, fight for other things that cloud her head. We have choice in our lives, but ultimately, we will end up either where we need to be, or broken because of our own stubbornness.”

“Mm, I’m sure. Now, you’re probably busy, Rachel and I should return to the fair,” Kurt says.

“Your own life will be sad,” the woman persevered, not listening to his attempts to flee.

“Sad? How so?” Rachel asked. Kurt  glared down at her for encouraging the old woman.

“But it doesn’t need to be. You will find a love the rest of the world will envy, if they could only understand,” the old woman shook her head almost pityingly. Then she let go of Kurt’s wrist and said promptly, “That will be another two pennies.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt demanded.

“Two pennies, for the second fortune.”

“I’m not paying you. I didn’t ask for my fortune,” Kurt said stubbornly and started walking away.

“We never do,” the old woman said softly, as she returned to her chair. “But it finds us anyway.”