"The only thing we can do about death is accept that it happened and move on. But that's really all we can do with anything." - Anonymous

Will Schuester walked the halls of San Jose High Academy like a God. God of the sophomores. Everyone knew him and everyone loved him. He had girls desperate to be his girlfriend, but he was single. He liked it that way; there was no drama. Instead, he hung out with a different girl every weekend. He was their friend but would never be friend-zoned, unless they got a boyfriend. But as soon as they broke up, he would be back. He didn't care either way. He didn't see them romantically, but as friends. He was attracted to some of them but it was a teenager attraction. He wouldn't bring them home to his mom. He wanted a classy lady. Not a slutty girl.

His friend slapped his shoulder. "Hey dude, my parents are taking a trip to the mountains, wanna come up for a few days?"

"I'll see about it."

"Cool. Hey, hottie at 1 o'clock." His friend whistled. "See ya!" Will laughed at his friends failed attempt to get a girls attention.

"Hey Will." A girl grabbed his waist. "Don't forget, my parents bought that jacuzzi.." He said he wouldn't forget. He had interactions like that everyday. This was going to be a great winter break.

Emma Pillsbury was a lot like the girls Will interacted with, except the boys wanted to be with her and she didn't want to be tied down. She blamed her parents. They thought they were in love but weren't. Instead they were best friends with a kid. She scoffed at romance movies and puked in her mouth at couples in school. She didn't think she had a soul mate. A person who made her not want to see anyone else. A person who made her want to say stupid names and share constant kisses.

"Hey babe. What are we going to do today?"

"Ugh, Eric, get off me! Aren't you trying to win over one of my friends?"

"Yeah, but I gotta make her jealous, right?" He held her hand and swung it back and forth.

"So not!" She pushed him off and they both laughed.

"Hey, so I'm throwing a party today to start off winter break. You comin'?"

She gave him a glare. "Of course I am."

xxx

When Will got home, his father gave him smack about being late and not checking the mail, even though it was 12 degrees outside their Northern California house. Will smiled and didn't pay attention. His father became frustrated when he was drunk which he always was. As long has Will knew him.

"James. Come in here." His mother called him.

"Damn it Isabelle, why do you call him James? His fucking name is Will! Shit, woman." He heard his father slam his hand on the counter. He threw his beer in the trash, got another one out of the fridge and slammed the door. James was his middle name but something he was normally called by his mother. She liked the name James (and its nickname, Jimmy) over William but his father won that right. She also would call him Bogie because of his typical golf score. He wasn't very good at golf but he played because his mother did. They played together every Saturday before she got sick. Will knew then that cancer didn't care who you were or if you never did a bad thing in your life. She went through radiation and everything the doctors told her to. It looked well for two months and then she got sick again. It made Will cherish every moment he spent with her.

He wished it was his father who was sick. He knew that was morbid but his father was a terrible person. He joined his mother in her study. She worked from home. She was staring blankly at the TV. She was tired from taking care of his newborn sister, Sophie. She was suffering from post-partum depression and he couldn't blame her. His father was an abusive drunk. Will didn't know why they were still together. Maybe it was love, some sort of magic, or more likely; lack of self-confidence and ambition.

"Hey Mom. What movie are we going to watch today?"

"Breakfast atTiffanys"

"Hmm..George Peppard, Audrey Hepburn. She's so gorgeous." His mother nodded. She used to look like the queen of introverts in her younger days. Will had an amazing memory of movie facts. He wanted to be in the movies when he got older. He didn't know how he was going to get there. He started taking drama classes but they focused on theater. He wanted moving pictures. Multiple scripts, late hours, even the stress. He wanted it all. He would do everything he could to get it. Right now all he could do was watch movies with his mom, and that was okay for him. It was a start. He enjoyed spending time with his mom. She was quiet and subtle but he felt a connection with her. Maybe because she wasn't an insane psychopath like this father, or maybe they just shared the same characteristics.

Later that evening his Aunt Donna came over to watch him and Sophie while his mom and dad went on a date. Will didn't think he needed a babysitter. He was sixteen. His sister was a fraction of the age. Obviously his parents didn't think he was mature enough. Will believed himself to be an easy going guy, so he didn't let it bother him. He walked up the stairs to his sisters crib and peered down at her. She was precious and innocent. She didn't know what her life would turn into and didn't care. She took her eyes from the model above her and redirected them to her older brother. She giggled and tried to roll over.

"Shh, shh Sophie. You stay right where you are." Will put his hand on her stomach and grinned.

Will came home from his friends house the Monday after his parents date night to something he will never forget.

Donna's anxiety shifted to Will when his frozen yet glove clad fingers turned the even colder knob of the thick wooden door into the warm, accepting air of his childhood home. She quickly turned toward the source of noise as if anyone else would come through the door. Will took off his beanie, letting his curls fly free, and hung his coat on the rack with his snow shoes underneath. He heard the radio playing'The Most Wonderful Time of the Year'. from the kitchen. He didn't think anything of it but when he would retell this story he would say'How ironic.'Donna tried to cover up the apprehension on her face, but Will already picked up on her forceful emotion.

"You're making cookies?" Instead of answering his question she silently asked him to sit down at the kitchen table. The intoxicating smell of baking cookies filled the empty spaces of his nose and ears as if he could hear the cookies sizzling in the heat of the oven. His Santa-sock covered feet made no sound on the hard wood floor and he remembered sliding across it as a younger child when he got new socks. Sophie cried softly upstairs and he desperately wanted to go to her and out of the extremely awkward conversation that was beginning.

She didn't beat around the bush. 30 years later, Will would still remember the look in her eyes, how his fingers intertwined with each other and controlled the heat passing between them. He would remember the way Donna bit the inside of her cheek and his feet crossed over each other nervously. He tried to control the violent shaking of his leg but it was impossible.

"Your parents got hit by another driver." Those words were like a car hitting him as well. His leg stopped shaking as his brain ceased all movement. He tried to breathe but his lungs closed and refused to let anything pass. Everything was louder now. He could see short films of his time with his parents, both good and heart breakingly bad, flash before his eyes. He thought that only happened when you die. Was he dying?

"In their will, they wanted me to take care of you and Sophie if anything happened." He heard her voice as if he was listening through a wall. She wouldn't stop talking. He couldn't focus, he was about to shut down from all emotion (excluding sadness and anger) and the burden of his public persona. His finger bounced violently against the table, hurting him, but the sound kept him sane. The sound that only got louder and was probably annoying to Donna, but for the first time, he didn't care. "As you know I live in Manhattan. I'll try to do my job from here, but I don't know how long I can." That summer, he would have to say goodbye to all his friends, his family home. Say goodbye sledding with his guy friends and skiing along the bunny hops with his girl friends, hiding behind a tree and making out with them. Donna would tell him that she enrolled him in an Arts school because she "saw potential in him".

Will tried to choke out words, but let his chair falling to the ground speak for him instead. Donna called after him but all he heard was white noise. He walked up the stairs and picked Sophie up, held her small and warm body in his arms. Her outfit was soft against his rough fingertips and her skin was even softer. She was oblivious to the news Will just received and giggled at him. He giggled as a result of her and a tear dropped onto her onesie. The feeling that took over Will's body at that moment was one that would extend for the rest of his life. He had to protect his sister, and everyone he cared about. And right now, he didn't care for his aunt.

Will didn't spend much time with Donna when his parents were alive but the small amount he did, she was nice, considerate and caring. The woman who moved into his house was the complete opposite. Said explicity; Donna was a bitch. She didn't care about his feelings, thoughts or emotions and for the most part completely disregarded the fact that he and his sister existed. He would find empty wine bottles in the trash, piled amongst each other. He took it upon himself to take care of his sister.

His mother gave him money for each grade that he completed. Twenty for each Elementary grade, fifty for each Middle school grade and hundred for each high school grade. She already had his high school money in the bank account she made for him when he was in first grade. He saved all the money he got from birthdays and Elementary and Middle school 'graduations'. His aunt rented his parents vacation homes for a combined total of $4,000 a month. She put $2,000 in his bank account each month. When he asked, Donna said'It's what your parents wanted'.She said she couldn't explain it until he was older. He wasn't going to object to two thousand dollars a month. He saved until just before school started and recreated himself. If he was going to move across country he saw no better time to become the man he wanted to be. He realized he didn't need to be an adult to adapt the kind of persona he built in his head. The drama of the last two years of high school would be the perfect opportunity to try out this new self and fix what didn't work. The idea in his head was a mix of Cary Grant and Marlon Brando characters, James Stewart and Humphrey Bogart. More the latter. If he was to find a girl, he pictured her as a spitting image of Audrey Hepburn, but with Katherine Hepburn's guts. He realized he treated the girls back home much like the character Sam Spade from the classic film,Maltese Falcon. Calling girls darling, angel, and his only love and then pushing them aside. He also realized that he viewed like through movie colored glasses. Not that they weren't good enough. He knew they were perfect for someone. That someone wasn't him. Every one of them tried to show him love but he wouldn't have it. He hadn't found anyone who made him want to open his whole heart.

On his first day of school in Manhattan, his day started normal. It was a Wednesday. He took care of Sophie and himself before driving her to daycare and himself to school.

The school was huge, divided by wings. He would be in the east wing and his map was a saving grace.

Students trickled into the classroom of his first period and Will didn't care enough to see what they looked like. The only one he picked his head up as the final bell rang for class to start, and just as a girl walked through the door. Something was different about had the most beautiful face. It was strong and soft. Youthful and mature. Her lips smiled even when she was sad. Her face was full of happiness, but there was a sadness held in her gorgeous green eyes and her beautiful smiling lips. It was the way her eyes looked around constantly and how her expression never changed even when it did. The sadness translated into meanness from a distance. If she wasn't smiling and laughing all the time or wasn't friends with everyone in the school people might assume she thought she was too good for everyone. She thought was too bad for everyone. If she lied to herself and faked happiness most hours out of the day maybe then the sadness wouldn't swallow her whole.

He was wearing an gray hoodie with 'Schrute Farms Beets' on it. Later in the day she would see that underneath the hoodie he wore a shirt paying homage to Audrey Hepburn. She would smile when she saw his shirt. Salmon colored shorts covered part of his lean legs and vintage looking surf shoes provided the cover his feet needed from the harsh and unforgiving world. His jaw and cheeks were covered with a layer of scruff, and Emma thought this to be the most sexy thing in the world. His head was covered with curls and his ears were plugged with earbuds. If she tried she could hear the pulsating beat of loud music. Rock? Pop? Rap? Maybe she would find out later when she inevitably got to know him.

Will didn't focus on the lesson being taught in whatever class he had for first period. Instead his attention was on the redhead in front of him. Her name was Emma and if he believed in the feeling of love he might consider himself under its spell. He learned she was friends, or at least known, with most of the class, nerds included. Her laugh was beautiful and he would do anything to provoke that sound from her. She was moderately smart, always jumping into the class conversation with a witty remark or question but always seriously. He thought of how beautiful she looked in her flowy flower skirt and how nice she would look on his arm. He didn't want to treat her like the girls back home, but like an actual girlfriend. He wanted to buy her chocolate and flowers and dresses and jewelry. He wanted to take her on dates and take silly pictures with her and put them all over his wall. He wanted to tell her about his parents and his friends and his aunt and sister.

Xxx

The first thing Will bought in New York (besides a car, a new phone, and Barbie Sophiehadto have) was a gift for Emma. A simple, handmade bracelet he found at a flea market. He stopped by that weekend because everyone at his job raved about the cool things they found there. He was up for cool things and the possibility of finding old gems for low prices. He didn't know why he was getting a gift for a girl he hadn't yet talked to but at that moment he had a feeling that they would be getting together. He got in his SUV, put the bag of things he bought in the passenger seat and stared at the bracelet in his hand. He sighed, tied it around his rearview mirror and drove off.

Running proved to be a great multi-tasking pastime. While working out, Will could familiarize himself with the town. When the same song repeated for the 10th time Will knew it was time to go home. He probably smelled grotesque, not that anyone he knew was around. He stopped in front of a coffee shop to catch his breath so he could pace evenly back to the house. A pop-rock beat pulsated in his ears and he couldn't hear anything else. Peering at the coffee shop from across the street he saw three girls walk out, talking and laughing. In between the blonde the brunette (who could have faces of an 80 year old as far as Will cared), was Emma; the redhead from first was wearing a New York Yankees shirt, tight bicycle shorts, and carrying a famous yet still lesser known book written by Ernest Hemmingway. She was a contraction, yet the view of absolute perfection. Maybe perfection and love are contradictions of their very own. He smiled.

I've been here looking dynamite alone against the wall.

Girls like you give it all so cold, talkin' cheap in a bathroom stall.

I've got something that I've kept inside

She and her friends sat down, and she looked right at him. The intensity in her eyes almost scared him into looking away but he straightened up and stretched his arms. He didn't know why, he wasn't using his arms to run.

You're there sucking on your lollipop like you haven't aged a day.

It ain't so pretty when you're playing cute; when your body's up against some fool.

Will knew, from the look in her eyes that getting to know her wasn't such a bad idea.

He would call it lucky, but he wasn't shy or short on confidence, it just happened that the opportunity to meet her officially came before he could introduce himself.

Journalism class was where it happened. The room was huge, almost like the band room at his old high school. Mr. Green went around to each kid and asked them what they would change if they could only change one thing about themselves. Mr. Green had brown hair the color of an Italian tan. He seemed to always wear a sweater vest and have a wise word to say. The answers were interesting and nobody had any time to mull and think what to cover up and what to reveal. He explained that the key to becoming good was being comfortable with your insecurities and whatever you're good at, "What compensates" he explained. He went on to say, "You don't have to like that you pick at your nails," He used Will's answer. "But coming to peace with that increases your self confidence and therefor makes you less insecure, and a better live performer." He was of course talking about jobs wherein people have to be on camera in a second, reporting the news.

He walked back to the board at the front of the class and scribbled the words 'Casablanca' in red marker. "Who knows what this is?" Almost all the hands in the classroom shot up. Will noticed Emma was one of the few who's hand did not shoot up. "That's somewhat good. Those who haven't, what have you been doing with your life?" The class laughed. "Don't worry, we'll be watching it tomorrow. The drama club will be performingCasablancathis year. Put a spin on it." He turned back around and wrote a date. "That is the show date, start thinking of articles."

Then he split the class into groups of two and called out names in pairs. The only names Will heard, and cared about, came out last with Mr. Green's fingers pointing at them though they were across the room from each other. "New kid, Emma."

Will hardly noticed that she looked him over. He was wearing a gray shirt that featured a vintage comic cover forThor, a faded short sleeve light green button up with surf boards and palm trees. He wore tan cargo pants, a nice looking watch, and black shoes.

Will wasn't surprised by her outfit, her hair, or even her stunning body. What he was most taken aback with was what uttered from her sweet lips when she walked over to him. "Hey, you're in my first period!" The idea that Emma would remember him out of every one she socializes with and the fact that they had never spoken was a mesmerizing sign to him.

"Yeah, I'm Will." He saw her mouth begin to move and her eyes transform questionably before he answered her unasked question. "I moved here about two months ago. I'm from California. I know, 'Surf's up dude!'." Will said in the annoying 'surfer accent'. He surprised himself by having an easy, open conversation with a perfect stranger without them putting anything into it. He knew she was talkative. And she was talking to him, with her body language. She crossed her legs (though that could've been the skirt's doing) and angled toward him. Her eyes were alight with a passion, telling him she was interested but that sign was so easy to fake even Sophie did it to him.

When she finally added to the conversation he took on a protected persona almost afraid of exposing too much though she already felt like his best friend.

"Will, were you listening?" Emma's eyes begged for conformation but not needily. He had to be honest, and that thought let to an irrelevant war in his mind about honesty, one he did not want to engage in unless it was spoke amongst a group of people.

"No, I'm sorry I zoned out." He looked up at her, a sincere apology written in his eyes. "I don't know why, that was rude. What were you talking about?" He knew they were supposed to be doing something involvingCasablanca.

"My friend Rebecca is hanging out with this guy Eric, and hey," Her train of thought got derailed at distraction, something Will noticed happened a lot. "You're on the soccer team, right?" He nodded feeling that she wouldn't let him get a word in if he tried. "You should know him, he's the goalie."

He laughed genuinely and again at her face of innocence at his amusement. "That's like asking an Indian if they know all Indians."

Emma showed faux shock, "Wait, they don't?" He laughed at her and shook his head, watching as she copied him and her curls hopped around her beautiful face, shocking himself at his mental use of adjectives.

x

Will was a virgin. Embarrassing? Yes. Shameful? Will didn't think so. The only thing that brought up this thought process was a conversation in the locker room just after his journalism class. Everybody was animatedly involved in it, besides Will who tried to stray away but sat awkwardly at his locker when that tasked proved not possible with the time and space given to him.

"So Will, how many girls have fallen for that gorgeous face of yours?" Alex, one of the kickers on the soccer team, ran his hand down Will's jawline when he asked and strangely everybody seemed to know that even though they acted sometimes, nobody in this room was gay. Some of the other guys laughed. It was obvious that Will was attractive, maybe even enough they felt threatened to introduce their girlfriends because he hadn't met one.

"Ha ha. You know, I'd rather keep it to myself." Will was reserved when he spoke, and sometimes he missed the thirteen year old who would make up a ridiculous story that was so obviously fake, but so eccentrically created that everyone would stick around to hear it.

"Oh don't tell me you're a virgin!" Eric spat out from a corner and walked over to sit near him. "You're at least five times prettier than I am, and I've got some!" The guys in the locker room made a large unanimous noise that sounded like a mix between laughter and 'ohhhh's.

"Oh yeah?" Alex pipped up. "Tell us then."

Eric gladly went into graphic details of what his ex-girlfriend did to him, and let him do to her as the guys listened with intent. The bell rang for lunch and they filed out of the locker room, into the slightly cooler air of the hallway and down to the cafeteria.

"Hey, Will! Come sit over here!" Almost gladly he sat down next to Eric who had his arms around a girl Will presumed to be Eric's current girlfriend.

"Hey," Eric addressed the table minutes later and Will realized Emma sat almost directly across from him. A slight twinkle in his eyes and the tiny rise of the corners of his lips was the only greeting he would give her at this point in their relationship. Maybe later he could greet her with a wave, a hug, or even a kiss.

"This guy," Eric's pat on his shoulder brought Will out of his daydream and into the light of embarrassment. "Is a virgin. Complete, unspoiled virgin." Will picked at his food and cast his head downward in the slightest.

"Eric," He expected it to be Emma's voice that stood up for him but it was his girlfriend, Rebecca. "Did you have to do that? Sometimes you're an ass, you know." She walked away in a huff and Will could already tell that in two weeks Emma would tell him how they broke up.

When he picked up his gaze Emma was looking at him. Her eyes perked up, registering that he caught her. She smiled shyly in his direction and he returned the favor. Her eyes asked if he was okay, and he nodded a response. It intrigued her greatly that someone so attractive as Will could be as inexperienced as Eric made him out to be. Emma believed there had to be a story behind the reason, and she would find out sooner than later. He couldn't tell the reason behind her stare however; he was only a confused boy anyway.