This was it. The first day of school. The first test of social strength. Every decision made today...how you speak, who you make eye contact with, and (most importantly) how your hair looks contributes to where you stand. Even the smallest move could determine whether you bask in the light of social royalty, or sit in the stench of the stuffy dumpster in the parking lot. This day, and these moments, could never be more significant to the incoming rabbits playing in traffic...the freshmen.
Some are at ease, knowing that without a doubt they'd mix in with the right crowd, as some desperately try to absorb and conform in order to stay alive. It's a battle ground, and no one is quite sure where the targets lie until the cold, artificially flavored corn syrup artillery hits them where it stings.
Shelby Corcoran pressed a pushpin into the crowded cork of the bulletin board. She took a step back, and took a deep breath. This was going to be hard. Vocal Adrenaline's members were the celebrities of the school, more admired and feared than even the football team. The New Directions, as she was told... did not share the same fate. She heard footsteps and the swish of an expensive nylon tracksuit stalk behind her.
"Wonderlips, manjaw, or traitor. It's your first day, so I'll be charitable and let you choose," echoed a confident voice behind her. Shelby closed her eyes, and laughed bitterly.
"Sue Sylvester."
"Sorry, sister, that name's already taken by someone who's mouth is in the normal radius of a human face." Sue said, in her usual condescending tone. Shelby turned around slowly and crossed her arms, said lips in a tight line as she looked at her with an unphased, though slightly irritated expression. She remembered what Will had told her earlier that week, when they went out for coffee.
"Don't let her get to you. She feeds off of crushing spirits and..." Will warned her. He looked somewhere between annoyance and somewhat hurt. "... And hair...and vest jokes."
It was all very dramatic.
"You know what, track suit?" she said coolly, stepping up to a confused Sue. Shelby's eyes were fierce with determination. "Bring it on." she punctuated when she was up close to her face, before stepping past her and heading towards the choir room. Sue stood there, staring directly at the recent addition to the board.
GLEE CLUB!
**NEW DIRECTIONS!**
NO AUDITIONS, JUST SIGN UP!
Sue smirked to herself.
"Will, I knew you wouldn't let me get bored." She then proceeded to her office, where she toasted a protein drink to her tasteful potted plant to the start of a very fun year for one Sue Sylvester.
-x-
"Isn't this great?" Charlie beamed as she strutted down the hallway, arm in arm in between Jaryn and Collin. "I mean, look at us. How many sexy rock star freshmen are there in this school? I'll tell you. Three, and they're us." she pulled them both closer by their linked elbows, squealing to herself excitedly. Her leather knee high boots, worn over tight jeggings, clacked every time the heel kissed the floor. Her top was clad in a white oversized t-shirt, cut at the collar and bottom, revealing a toned stomach. On her wrist was a friendship bracelet, one that matched ones that Collin and Jaryn wore. Hers was blue, Jaryn's was green, and Collin's was red. She made them in seventh grade, when the three of them became inseparable.
"The top of the bottom is still the bottom.." Jaryn said with a sigh. "...not like we're even at the top." Jaryn's long, dreadlocks fell free, as opposed to the days when he wore them up in a type of man-ponytail. He had plain dark wash jeans, and a green slightly V-necked shirt, and some nice, classy leather shoes.
Collin raised an eyebrow at him. "Dude...you'd be the last person I expected to care about that. Look at us! Finally going to high school together- just like we always planned. So what if we don't know anyone else here? We'll find people to chill with." he thought for a second. "Or we can just be celebrities, everyone admiring us and giving us free Cheetos and shit. Who needs a clique when you've got like...a possy?" Collin had jeans on almost as tight as Charlie's, and a well fitted flannel over a plain white shirt. He had red high tops, and some expensive looking sunglasses that he probably stole from his uncle, just because his uncle was rich and Collin really liked sunglasses.
Charlie laughed. "That's the spirit! We're going to own this school!" she said, a glowing smile on her flawless face. Jaryn shook his head at the two, who in turn began to chatter about how they could sell T-Shirts to raving fans begging them to sign their boobs. It was then that Jaryn heard something that made him stop in his tracks. Charlie turned around and raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.
"Jarbear?" she questioned.
"I, uh...left something in the classroom. I'll find you guys at lunch." he blurted. Collin tilted his head slightly. He knew something was up, but also knew it was useless to try to get anything out of the guy that he wasn't completely willing to admit.
"Alright, man. I'll call you, yeah?" he said, tugging on Charlie's arm. Charlie resisted for a moment, curious, but then gave in as Collin urged her to not even try.
It was a voice. A jazzy, smooth, and undeniably talented voice. He followed it's source to a theatre, which was completely empty, all the doors locked, save for one. A tune he didn't recognize, but he found himself pushing open the door and listening. Charlie had a great voice, but this girl...
"The minute you walked in the joint
I could see you were a man of distinction.
A real big spender,
Good lookin', so refined.
Say, wouldn't you like to know
What's goin on in my mind?"
He watched her. She was short, with a bouncy little bob cut. She wore a tank top that had a cute skeleton panda on it, and a poofy skirt, with striped stockings and black Converse. Her pure song, filled with so much raw feeling, was slow and flowed beautifully with the acoustics of the theatre.
"So let me get to the point.
I don't pop my cork for every guy I see.
Hey big spender,
Hey big spender,
Hey big spender,
Spend a little time with me."
It was jazzy, but classic and definitely a showtune. He stepped down one stair, unaware that his feet were moving. The tiny girl looked very young, especially with how she was dressed. Thirteen at the oldest, but, somehow... Older. Like her appearance would never mix with the personality expressed so naturally in the song. This song seemed to conflict with her appearance, and yet it was a beautiful harmony. He only wished he knew the song. He took another step, and their eyes met.
She was gorgeous. He panicked, and stepped back again, sliding out behind the door.
-x-
She was caught! Someone had been listening to her sing. Who was that guy?
"Fuck, was I not supposed to be here? Am I screwed?" she scrambled away from the microphone. She hopped off the stage. "Jesus Christ, Lulu, see a nice big stage, and go 'Oh! You know what, I'm gonna sing here!' Shit! " she muttered to herself as she gathered her things. "They probably thought you were a teacher's daughter or something. You're good, you're good." she continued to ramble to herself.
It didn't matter if someone was coming to give her detention, lunch would be soon anyway. She leaned on the edge of the stage.
"Should I go off and try to find a group to sit with?" That sounded exhausting. Lucille, or as she's often called, Lulu, sat down in one of the many seats. She pulled out her Hello Kitty lunch box, and she ate her sandwich in silence.
"I miss middle school." she whispered to herself. She had friends, or people she'd like to describe as friends. They were boring, but they didn't mind her. They all went off their separate ways, and even though some of them came to McKinley, they ignored her. She sunk down into her seat.
After she finished her lunch, she decided to get up and walk around the school or the halls, maybe look like she was looking for someone, so she didn't feel so lame. She flung her backpack over her shoulder, fixed her poofy skirt, and headed out.
-x-
"Why not? It's the start of high school. A time to start fresh. A time to take and give chances!" Reina, a tall and pretty girl with large brown eyes and a gentle face, chirped excitedly. She looked like some kind of gypsy, flaunting a Bohemian style flowy shirt, with a long and swishy skirt. She pulled it off with grace. Leila, her best friend at whom her animated chatter was directed towards, ducked her head down, causing her gorgeous strawberry hair to cascade down. She wore a simple black lightweight shirt, with straight leg jeans and cute vintage floral print flats.
"... Only freshman get this excited on the first day of school, you really want to publicize that?" she said, clutching to her books as she avoided bumping into people in the crowded hallways.
"People here don't have Christian private school mentality, girl. Embrace it!" Reina exclaimed. "I don't know what you want from me... Chop off all my hair and stand on top of a table and yell at the top of my lungs-" she stopped herself.
"I'm just saying, you're never going to find someone if they don't know about you. You're gorgeous, yeah, but you're also not a recognizable stereotype."
"So you do want me to cut my hair."
"I never said that. But it does look good on me."
"Well then, when all the lesbians flock to you for your cute pixie cut hair, only to realize you're straight, feel free to send their rejected sappy souls to me." Leila reached her locker and tossed her books inside. Reina leaned on the locker next to her, her lip tugged to one side as she studied her friend. "What's wrong?" Reina finally asked softy, tilting her head. Leila sighed as she shut her locker and turned to face her again.
"...I trust you, Reina. I don't trust anyone else in Ohio, and especially not in a high school. Not one like this. I'm not ready to shout from the rooftops that..." she paused. Saying it always made her stomach twist up nervously, as if someone was listening. "...that I'm gay." she whispered. Reina smiled sadly at her.
"Hey, don't look so down... It's fine if you don't want to be, well... 'out' yet. But you've got to stop assuming everyone is against you." She saw that what she was saying wasn't having much of an effect on her discouraged friend. Middle school hadn't been kind to Leila, she was having image issues, friend issues, and not to mention her ever present orientation confusion.
"You know what? You and I are joining a club. Come on." Leila eyed her as she grabbed her wrist.
"You're not serious, a high school club?" she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Reina smiled sweetly.
"You never know! Maybe there's even a GS-"
"No. Please no." Reina shrugged.
"Just an idea." she said sweetly, before switching to a more serious tone. "But really... We can't do middle school again. We need to find a group."
"I'm fine with you..." she replied quietly before looking up at Reina with earnest eyes. "I don't need more than that." she said simply.
Reina bit her lip, and put a gentle hand on Leila's arm."You need to learn to trust other people, too, Leila. You'll be happier, and it'll make you feel so... so much better when you finally realize people will accept you." Leila closed her eyes.
"...I hate it when you're smart." Reina just smiled wider at her.
"Come on, let's go find a club. But no gardening club. Something that still has a chance of having guys... Straight guys." Leila rolled her eyes but allowed a small smile to escape. Reina laughed.
"Aw, there it is!" Reina beamed, throwing an arm over Leila's shoulder, causing Leila to glare slightly at her. Reina didn't budge, she just kept laughing and walking happily down the hallway with her friend.
-x-
"I'm so glad we ended up in the same school, boogie. I mean, what are the odds? You said you were going to college in Canada, and bam! Here you are!" Nicola giggled a she clung to her "boogie", Anthony. Nicola had classic Spanish good looks, big lips, big black eyes, long, shiny black hair, and of course, her push up bra didn't have to do much work. She was hot, and she knew it- her tight skirt and tube top hugging her curves as she strut down the hallway with her equally attractive boyfriend. Anthony smiled, though with obvious exertion.
"Yeah, what are the odds..." he replied lazily, allowing himself to be tugged around by his girlfriend. Anthony was tall, tan, and has a cute face that looked almost like a tired bear. He looked athletic, and walking next to Nicola, they were quite a sight. "Where are we going?"
"Cheerios sign ups, of course!" she beamed, hitting his arm playfully. "And you're signing up for football, boo! Haven't you been listening? We'll be a power couple! Instant popularity! Isn't that what you want? Of course it is. It's what everyone wants." she babbled as Anthony just nodded and mhmm'd at the appropriate time.
"I'm starting to regret not just going to Canada after all..." he thought.
"Oh, boo... The line is really long and I think I left something in the classroom. Won't you wait in line for me?" she asked, batting her heavily mascara'd eyelashes.
"Yeah, sure, babe..." he replied in a monotone, walking towards the end of the ridiculously long line. (Isn't this just a sign up sheet?)
He should break up with her. He wasn't happy, and she didn't care. As long as she had a hunk boyfriend, she dragged him along like a toy poodle in a Coach bag. The thing is, she was smoking, and she was also already on her way to the in-crowd. She was right, anyone who had the chance to be popular would take it. Those who deny it already graduated, moving on to wiser things like community college.
Not to mention the fact that if he broke up with her, she no doubt either:
a) cry and scream
b) yell and scream
c) drive her daddy's car into his bedroom wall... while screaming.
So, with Nicola he shall stay. He sighed. Speak of the devil. Nicola skipped back happily, wrapping her arms tightly around one of his. Nicola scouted the line, without a doubt wondering who would be competition for her.
-x-
"This is an awful idea." Abby said as the three of them stared at the empty list in front of them. Abby was a heavyset girl, with bright, curly, hair and large blue, expressive eyes. She wore a pleated skirt with leggings and flats, and a striped long-sleeve shirt.
"It's social suicide, joining a glee club, isn't it?" Larson added. Larson was a short boy who, despite his deprived height, was very well built. He wore a blue and white striped polo, and medium wash jeans.
"All y'all are pathetic. You know we've got killer voices, and like hell are we joining choir. You know what's in choir? Church music, lame shit, no solos, and I-" Orleande stopped himself and turned, opening his arms towards Larson and Abby. "...we, need to shine." Orleande wore a bright yellow plaid (not gingham) ruffle scarf, black pants, a black shirt with a few decorative sequins he bedazzled on, and a yellow beret. He also wore bedazzled lace up converse.
"We're not going to shine very brightly with targets painted on our faces." Abby said, arms crossed. Orleande threw his hands up.
"Are you serious right now? Do you see the three of us? We might as well have clown shoes with gingham plaid stockings and donkey tails pinned to our asses."
Larson looked up between the two, and shrugged. "He's kind of right, you know. We're gonna be losers anyway if we plan on still being best friends. Why not do something we love, something fun, together, you know?"
Abby groaned. The two watched her, waiting for her to speak. "Fine. Whatever. We'll join the damned club, but you are both paying for the clothes that get torn while they try to throw me in a dumpster!" she said. "At least they won't be able to, unlike some of the other scrawny freshmen around here..." A couple of stick thin and blonde girls walked by. "Gross." she said, scrutinizing the two of them.
Orleande laughed. "Preach." he exclaimed, signing his signature in a barely legible, heavily stylized autograph. Abby lifted Larson to sign his name as well.
Abby let a grin slide. "Alright... I admit. I'm a little excited." she said, as signing her name as well.
-x-
So apparently, an Irish accent won't do much magic unless you talk, and Gerard was terrified. The school was huge, there had to be at least a million people, and they all seemed to be at least six feet tall. It was ridiculous. What did Americans do to their kids to make them so big and intimidating? It was all way too different from the private schools in Belfast, and he wanted to go back. It was prissy, but at least he had friends, and the people not too much shorter than him weren't being shoved into lockers.
Because he had gone to private school most of his life, he had done research on typical American "cool" clothing. Which is why he wore a preppy Abercrombie & Fitch polo, paired with a Harley Davidson leather jacket, and True Religion jeans. He hurried through the hallways with his head down, until he realized there was a very long line of girls standing in line by the club board. He approached a group of less intimidating looking freshmen.
"Excuse me." he said, and the three of them turned heel, looking at him like they were addressed by the Queen. Huh! So accents really did have magic here. Or was it the leather jacket...? "What's the line for over there?" The three looked at each other. Abby cleared her throat.
"Something lame for girls. You should join, uh..." she looked back at the board a second and then back to Gerard. "New Directions! You look like you sing." she said enthusiastically. Larson nodded. "Yeah, it's great, and it's not like choir with chorus songs and lame shit."
Orleande had a look that could kill when Larson stole his line. You could practically hear the "Oh hell nah."
"Trust me, brother. Sign up." he said, pushing his shoulders towards the sheet. If they got the hot exchange student with an accent, maybe the club wouldn't be just losers after all. Gerard looked back at the three, who nodded encouragingly.
"Ah, why not. You guys seem cool." he said, signing under the names. He smiled. Orleande appeared next to him.
"Alright Gehr-rerd" he said, completely butchering his name. "The names Orleande, that there's Abby, and the small one is Larson." Larson rolled his eyes.
"Oh, you're cool." he said sarcastically.
"Love ya, man." Orleande said. Gerard waved awkwardly.
"It's actually like Jer-rard..." he said.
"So Gehrerd, tell us 'bout yourself." Orleande said, draping an arm across his shoulder. Gerard laughed and walked off with them.
The list read as such:
1. Orleande Denir
2. Larson Alps
3. Abigail Williams
4. Gerard Fitzpatrick
-x-
From the front of the line, Nicola's ears were perked. A boy with an accent in a group of losers, all joining a Glee club?
"What an opportunity..." she whispered to herself, smirking a bit. Not only was the guy's accent sexy as hell, she and Anthony would seem like such wholesome and charitable people if they joined a group of little show choir freshmen. Like those dogs that wear vests and look all cute for gross sick people, and then get all the respect. She quickly signed her name and turned to Anthony.
"Hey, boo, you like singing or something, don't you?" Nicola asked. "Dancing?" Anthony raised an eyebrow. Had she actually known something about him? He had to admit, he was a bit impressed.
"Yeah, but how did you..."
"Why don't we join glee club?" she asked with a sweet grin. "Then we can be in a club together!" He blinked.
"Yeah...yeah, sure." he said with a slight smile. Nicola did an inward victory dance and slid over to the sheet, signing both their names.
5. Nicola Alvaraz
6. Anthony Herald
-x-
Lulu, on her third self tour of the school, saw two people, a couple, she presumed, that glowed with the familiar vibe of popularity. The good looks, and the confident strides away from the list for.. New Directions? Only six people had signed up, and it was... show choir. She couldn't believe it. Was glee actually cool here or something? She stepped up to the paper and signed her name in cutesy bubble letters, beaming.
7. Lulu Hartman!
-x-
Jaryn, Collin, and Charlie all walked side by side, attached by the hip once again. The only time they weren't together were in the classes they didn't have. Charlie was chattering on about how they absolutely needed a bassist, second guitarist, hot female back up vocalists, and a keyboardist.
"Why do we need more people, though? We have a good sound with just the three of us!" Collin said. Charlie rolled her eyes.
"Collin honey, labels don't pick up three person hipster bands." she said. "Sure, we sound sick, but imagine a whole spectrum of sound! Wicked basslines, keyboards going wroorororoo with all those effects and stuff."
Jaryn shook his head. "I agree with Collin. It's taken us so long to get to this point... we sound great, why mess with a good thing?" Charlie whined.
"Scared of change, much? Come oonnn. You know I'm right." Jaryn sighed, and walked past a long line of dumb looking girls with perfect ponytails.
"Ohh, club board! Maybe we can hold auditions and put up a sign or something!" Charlie sang. Jaryn did a double take as they walked past.
"It's her..." he breathed. That girl from the proscenium was there, signing up for a club with a huge smile on her face. She put the pen down and then clutched her backpack, before walking off again.
"Whoah, hold on, guys. I uh...think I know where we can find some extra talent." he said, eyes not leaving her except to look at the paper in which she was so cheerfully signing.
"Man, pick a side! Laaame." Collin groaned. Charlie giggled excitedly.
"Good boy!" she said, stroking down his dreadlocks. Jaryn shook his head to make her stop, and she just giggled more.
"What about..." Jaryn backstepped and looked at the lone piece of paper. Already seven people had signed. "What about glee club? Makes sense, musical talent, dancing... Right?" Both Collin and Charlie looked at him dubiously.
"A Glee club." Collin said.
"Yes."
"As in...show choir." Charlie tagged in.
"There's already seven people.. So it can't be that bad." Jaryn said a bit quietly. Collin and Charlie looked at each other. Collin shrugged.
"Fine by me." he said. Charlie blinked.
"So, wait, what? We're really joining a glee cl-" But Jaryn was already signing. Charlie continued to look around, confused once again. Collin chuckled to himself.
"Oh boy... here we go again." he whispered. Charlie huffed.
"I give up on trying to understand your damned man-telepathy. Pen me, Jar." she said, holding out her hand. She squiggled her name in pretty cursive on the line. Collin followed suit.
"I hope we get to do a lot of jazz hands, or I'm out."
8. Jaryn Raleigh
9. Charlie Jamison
10. Collin Meyers
-x-
"Hey Leila, let's do cheerleading, yeah?" Reina said with a laugh. Leila rolled her eyes at her.
"I hate pony tails, and you can't even put your hair up." Reina shrugged.
"At least I'mthinking. Fashion club? Ew... Young republicans club? What the hell? Gardening club... A pre-established, no..." Reina wandered off on her own, looking at all the papers. Leila leaned on the wall, watching her.
"Why do we even need to join a club, again?"
"To get you out of your damned shell, girl!" she said, lifting up a paper to see underneath it. Leila walked over to her, and a paper caught her eye. Reina jumped at the interest.
"New Directions? Show choir... Of course! Your voice is killer, and so is mine!" she said happily. Leila shook her head.
"The only reason you heard me sing was because I didn't know you would come over while I was home alone to stalk me. There's no way in hell am I singing in front of anyone." Reina was already signing them up. She looked up at her with large, earnest eyes.
"How well do I know you? Very well is the answer. Deep down, you want me to pull you out of your comfort zone because you know you can't do it on your own. And even deeper down, you want to be heard. We're joining glee club." Reina proclaimed.
Leila would protest, but it was really damned unfair that someone else knew her better than herself. She just took the pen and signed in the very last slot without another word.
11. Reina Cormick
12. Leila Willow
-x-
When Shelby came back, she was stunned to say the least. None of the names had anything to do with the digestive system. They were genuine names of people interested in glee club. They had signed up, despite Will ensuring that she would basically have to pay people off to garner any kind of interest.
It eased the knot in her stomach, and she was actually excited to meet these kids. She found herself studying their signatures, and guessing what kind of group she would have. She began to think of songs that could be sung by twelve people, choreographing endlessly in her mind.
How was it possible for her to be this excited about something she'd been doing for so long? Somehow, she knew that this would be much different from the winner sweatshop of Vocal Adrenaline.
It was the start of something amazing.