Chapter 1: Maybe I'm lost but I don't need to be found

Song: "I Couldn't Care Less" By Leslie Clio

When the Colorado Spings Military boardin schools principal asked him into his office and then told him with his usual perfectly blank face expression: "Dalton Academy, a private boy's school from Western Ohio, is offering you a full scholarship so you can lead their A-Capella-Show-Choir to a national championship.", Hunter Clarington fell silent for exactly one and a half minute and then asked calmly: "Can I bring my cat?"

To say his parents didn't feel happy about it would be a downright lie. His mother screeched hysterically for at least two full hours and his father threw a rather expensive miniature against the wall and then ordered Hunter to fetch him the hand broom and the brandy.

Later that night he helped him to get the trunk and then friendly reminded him that they were good catholic and Hunter shouldn't even dare to think about falling back in old patterns because God always watches him, home or not, and so did his father. Hunter remained silent and Walter Clarington gave his son a careless slap, just in case the silence was a sign of protest. Hunter didn't even blink.

And so, after three hours between a nervous german tourist and a sleeping old man with dreads, Hunter leaves the plane and finds himself in a town that is a living dead cliché.

You gotta be kidding me, he thinks when he walks past a group of elderly women, dressed like it was still the sixties and shamelessly throwing eager looks to his behind.

After he tells the taxi driver the adress he found on Dalton Academy's official website, he places Charlemagnes cage on his lap and observes the by-floating town through the dusty windows.

There's an extremely skinny girl with Miley-Cyrus-like hair and walking next to a corpulent black woman wearing heels that are too high to still be classy. Three middle school girls, looking cloned in their short skirts and white blouses. A ginger woman, polishing frantically her left shoe and a man in a vest, waiting patiently for her.

Dalton Academy is a huge building in baroque style, looking awfully out of place in this parochial ambiance. Hunter places Charlemagnes cage on a leather couch and breathes in his new home.

He feels like he's been dropped right into a play. Wooden panels, scuffed carpets and timper piling that smeels like bees wax. He's ot a notion that someone spend an high priced amout of time to this decoration and that this someone had an unhealthy bias towards european romanticism.

"Now what's it gonna be, if you don't like my peaches then don't shake the tree."

Hunter frowns. There are cushioned voices, buzzing and humming and beatboxing and one clear, male leading singer, filling the dignified hallways with unharmoniously modern tunes.

"Maybe it's sad but it's easy, the sick ship rolls, it takes a little to please me."

He leaves his trunk and a stunned, hissing Charlemagne in the foyer and climbs the staircase, following the music.

"Go cross me off your list, no use to be a part of a world that don't exist."

When he finds the room the voices come from, it's full of people, but no one says a word. They've all turned their back towards the doorframe and some heads are swinging gently in time with the music.

"I'm giving up the fight, I never getting paid but somewhere there's a light."

Hunter slips through the crowd until he can finally see the center of the room and the music.

"I couldn't care less 'bout sunny or shine - I couldn't care less what broke me this time!"

There are about twenty guys, all moving in perfect sync, all wearing rather careless, simple-hearted smiles on their faces. But in front of his background singers, there's the a guy who's different.

"I couldn't care less, that's why I'm jammin' it out - I couldn't care less, that's all I care about!"

Sebastian catches the newbies eye and his smug grin widens. Well, well, let's see what we got there?

"Such a good drama, oh oh - Such a good drama, oh oh oh."

Hunter sees the lead singer looking at him and instanty frowns. No, Hunt, you're not here for that.

"I couldn't care less - that's all I care about!"

The students start to applause enthusiastically the second the song's finished. Hunter gives it a few claps, but then folds his armes, watching audience cheerin and huging their choir. That's new for him. At his old school, he's always been asked to practice his club in the afternoon, so he won't disturb anyone.

Then he realizes the lead singer is standing right in front of him, a complacent smirk on his lips and his hand burrowed in the pocket of his trousers.

"You must be our new director. I'm Sebastian Smythe, captain of the Dalton Academy Warblers."

Hunter shakes his hand, that he oh so grantfully pulled off his pocket, but frowns instantly. Warblers? You gotta be kidding me?

"It is out tradition that whenever we get a new member, even if it's only on the directing level, he gets an actual warbler. They're from a line that is - " Hunter's heard enough.

"Well, thanks a lot, but I've ot a cat, so I don't think this actual warbler would last for very long." He says, causing the grin of the plump student next to him, who's been proudly holding a covered cage, to fall off his face.

"Anyway, I'm Hunter Clarington from Colorado Springs, as you already seem to know. Also, I'm not your new director, I'm the new captain.

Your school's brought me here to leverage your .. Warblers, and I highly doubt that would be possible if I had to share that authority. Your little number here was quite sloppy, half of the tenors has completely lost rhythm after about ten seconds.

Also, your dancing steps are kind of unoriginal, don't you think? We've seen that side step for a houndred times.

Your lead voice was alright, I guess I'll think of giving you a few solos if you agree to learn the lyrics correctly - it's drummin', not jammin'.

Could someone show me my room now? My cat's still in the foyer and he's getting kind of scratchy if I let him in that cage for too long."

And with that, Hunter Clarington leaves a common room full of stunned faces.

If I am bored though I'm bound, maybe I'm lost but I don't need to be found.

Authors Note: Thanks for reading, droppin a review would be lovely. (: Oh, and I don't own Glee. Do I need to write that here? This is a fanfiction base, after all.