Author's Note: This is a starting chapter, branching out to future one shots that I plan to write from prompts I am sent by any reader. This chapter is mostly just to set the scene for the prompts I'm given. These characters are based on The Glee Project :) Please visit my profile for more information. And seriously guys:

I NEED PROMPTS. ANYONE CAN SEND ME PROMPTS.

Disclaimer: Disclaimed.


Setting The Scene

"Get your ass out of bed!" Her mother screeched from the doorway. Bleary eyed, she groaned and rolled herself out, padding her way to the bathroom.

Her hair was rumpled and she was glaring at herself in a sleepy haze. No, Mondays weren't the favourite of one Nellie Vreeland. Mumbling curse words to herself, she stepped into the shower. She screamed as she realised that they had run out of hot water. Finishing with her shower, she dressed herself in a sweater and jeans, pushing her bangs up with a black headband. She stomped down to breakfast.

He was already chomping down on his cereal when she appeared, looking haggard and totally not ready for work. Blake looked up as she stomped towards the mirror to check at her reflection, before swearing. Flicking her dirty blonde hair back, she made her way to the dining table next to her son.

Blake Jordan had woken an hour ago to fit in a quick workout before breakfast. He had gotten into the varsity team for football and he needed to keep pumping iron as much as he could. His mother looked worriedly at him, but he wasn't her baby boy anymore. He ran a hand over his bangs, gulping at his orange juice before going to the bathroom and brushing his teeth. Grabbing his keys from the shelf, Blake let his mother give him one last kiss before walking out of the house.

He got in his car, pulling his varsity jacket on, and drove out of the driveway. Moves Like Jagger started blasting and Blake started singing along as he drove to pick up his friend.

Nellie was still begging her parents to let her skip school for today, she hadn't managed to finish Trig homework. But they had pushed her out the door, telling her she was going to be picked up soon. She grumbled, sitting on the porch steps and waiting. She pulled out her unfinished work, deciding that she might as well work on it for her first class.

"Hey, come on!" Blake called out to the siting figure. Lifting his head, Michael West stood up from his swing and made his way to Blake's car. He called out to his parents that he was leaving, grabbing his books and his sweater. Blake rolled his eyes at Michael's slow pace, but he just laughed it off and listened to the sound of Maroon 5 blasting from the radio.

Michael stepped into the car, talking ecstatically about their next block, Trig. Blake rolled his eyes, wondering how they were even friends. Resident Jock and Hottest Geek in Town was what they called their unlikely tandem. They had known each other since forever, building on their strange friendship. It was obvious to both of them how they had managed to be friends despite their different social stereotypes.

Blake was conventionally Mr. Popularity, with his endless list of varsity sports. But Michael was the hottest Calculus tutor a girl could get, and his charming personality kept him cool despite his 3.8 grade point average. Combining that with their creepily similar tastes in everything, and the fact that they had been through about every embarrassing situation little boys could get in together, and they were unstoppable. Blake revved up his car as the passenger door slammed shut.

Nellie stood up as she heard the sound of wheels squealing, she only knew one person that ever did that. An old bus driver. As soon as she got in, she made her way to the back of the bus and pressed her forehead on the window, waiting for the torture to end. She stepped out of the bus, wondering why of all times she had to be punished by riding the school bus and listening to pre-pubescent kids talk about their "crazy Saturday night."

She was still annoyed when she walked inside the school and the din hit her ears. Nellie made her way to her locker, still scowling. A few friendly faces gave half-hearted waves, knowing that Nellie was probably incapable of speech until lunch time. The mantra in her head was, "Only one and a half more years and I'll be out of this place and off to LA." She closed her locker just as the bell rang and she made her way to her oh-so-exciting math class.

"Hurry up, dude!" Michael was sprinting up the school steps as Blake locked his car, running behind him. They had made a quick stop at Jamba Juice and the bell was ringing once they arrived in school.

Blake saw the flash of short black hair as the door to the Trigonometry class closed. Trying to catch their breath, Michael entered and made their way to the back. Blake walked to the classroom across, accidentally bumping the black haired girl who had stepped out of the math class in a rush. He didn't bother to apologise as her scowl grew. Everyone knew how much she hated Monday's, moody bitch. She would have just told him to fuck off. Shaking his head, Blake walked into his AP Lit class. And their hour and a half of torture began.

Not a lot of interesting things happened in Lima, Ohio. Especially not in William McKinley High School where the craziest thing to happen was Quinn Fabray's pregnancy. Sure you had your clique's and the occasional slushie every now and then. But nothing ever happened. Especially not to one bored raven haired girl. Nellie sighed, biting at her pen as she looked down at the questions set in front of her. Michael was enthusiastic from beside her, smiling smugly to himself as he finished the sheet first. She rolled her eyes at the curly haired boy, watching the clock and waiting for the bell to ring.

When it seemed like all hope was lost, the class ended. And only six and a half more hours before they could all be free. She doodled most of the time, as her second class went by. She tried to listen to Mr. Schue as he tried to grab for something relatively historical to talk about, checking the book every now and then. It was his first year as a history teacher and as long as he didn't care that she didn't care, then she was fine with that.

"Aren't you going to lunch?" Michael turned back. The figure's eyes snapped up from the notebook, realising that class was actually over before nodding and going along with Michael, pushing back long bangs. Everyone was piling out of the classroom when they joined the line, ready to eat and forget just how much high school sucked. Monday's were the worst.

TO BE CONTINUED