Vive La Vie Glee
A Glee Song-Fic
Summary: Mr. Schu introduces a new song to New Directions, and starts to notice the parallels between the characters in the song and his vocalists. One shot. Song-fic.
Author's Note: I own neither Glee nor La Vie Boheme. This takes place before everyone knows that Puck is the father of Quinn's baby. And Mr. Schu and Terri are still together :(
Oh, and "vive" is French, generally meaning "long live!" It's pronounced "Vee-va!" Just a little note :)
Will Schuester had thought it was a good idea at first. All the voices fit. Even some of the relationship dynamics are there, he had mused. There was love, anger, hatred, friendship, ambition...
La Vie Boheme from Rent was perfect for New Directions Glee Club.
Walking into the rehearsal room, he doesn't even think of all the ways this could go wrong.
"Alright, guys. New piece today. I know we've stuck to the songs were there's one or two soloists, but with this one, we're gonna try something where there's opportunity for a lot more people."
Rachel frowns, just a little bit. But the rest of the club lights up.
Mr. Schuester begins passing out the music. Immediately Rachel's hand shoots up.
"Maureen, Mr. Schu? As an actress I am always looking to expand my abilities, but I have never cared for that part, in all honesty. Though there is a resemblance between myself and Idina Menzel in both looks and voice, I cannot say that I am cut for the part of Maureen. Another thing, this is the version from the movie, not that musical. That's practically sacrilegious in a show choir."
Kurt interrupts. "Excuse me, but Angel? Angel? Mr. Schu, just because I am dress better than most people, male and female alike, does not mean I have to play the cross-dresser."
"That's 'cause you're the only one who already does it," Puck says in an undertone.
Kurt ignores Puck. "And I feel that you may be playing on stereotypes. I want Mark."
"Yeah, uh, Mr. Schu, I'm not sure I can hit some of these notes," Finn volunteers, as he flips through his sheet music.
"Okay, some of the things in this are disgusting. Are we really condoning premarital sex and STDs and drugs in Glee?" Quinn asks, crossing her arms.
"Thank you, Virgin Mary," shoots Puck. Quinn glares at him, but blushes just a little.
"Hell naw am I being Joanne. I ain't a lesbian. And just 'cause she's played by a black person does not mean I gotta be her. She doesn't even sing," Mercedes spits.
"M-m-i-mi? Uh-uh," Tina shakes her head.
The disgruntled Glee kids' voices crescendo until Mr. Schu puts his hands over his ears.
"Stop. Stop. STOP!"
The kids quiet slowly. Mr. Schu sighs. "Alright, now tell me who has what part."
"Maureen," Rachel says quickly, "But I don't—"
"Rachel," Mr. Schu warns.
"Mark?" Finn says, flipping back to the front of his music to check the name.
"Joanne," growls Mercedes.
"Collins," says Artie.
"Angel," sighs Kurt.
"Whoever the hell Roger is," says Puck, with a roll of his eyes.
"Benny," says Mike.
"M-m-m-i-mi," stutters Tina.
Mr. Schu thinks for a minute, admitting to himself that he may not have actually picked the best pairings. Not ready to be completely defeated, he asks the kids to stand up and lines them up in character.
"Mike. Tina and Puck, here. Rachel and Mercedes. Finn. Kurt and Artie."
He looks at the group. Tina fidgets next to Puck. Rachel and Mercedes glare at each other, aware of their characters' interaction with each other. Finn just shrugs. Kurt rolls his eyes and shifts his weight to one hip as he watches Mr. Schu through narrowed eyes. Artie smiles encouragedly.
"Alright. I can see this isn't gonna work."
Rachel smiles smugly. "Mr. Schu, we don't have to do this. In my repertoire, I have a few songs that I think—"
"Rachel, thank you," Mr. Schu interrupts. "But what I meant by this not working, I meant the characters. We're not giving up on this song yet. Go home tonight and think about it. Watch the movie before the next Glee rehearsal. Any ideas, e-mail me."
By the time Mr. Schu gets home, there are, at least, six e-mails from Rachel. He sighs and logs off the computer as his wife walks in.
"You okay, sweetie?"
He shakes his head. "I'm fine. Just frustrated."
"Lots of grading tonight?" she asks, watching her husband head towards the keyboard in the living room.
"No, just something with Glee," he calls, as he begins plunking out harmonies.
"It's always something with Glee," Terri mumbles.
xxx
It actually is one of Rachel's many e-mails that sparks Mr. Schu's idea. She kept insisting that there weren't any similar dynamics in the relationships of the Glee members and the cast of Rent. The only way they can possibly perform it is to change them. And then the brain wave hits the Spanish teacher.
"Mr. Schu, that's changing the idea of the show!" shrieks Rachel when he explains the changes.
Mr. Schu shakes his head. "We're not actually performing Rent, Rachel. We're singing La Vie Boheme. There's a difference."
"I kinda like this way," admits Finn. "I mean, it's, like, less awkward, for some people. You know?"
"But this is how some people are!" cries Rachel, leaping up from her chair. "Are we shoving homosexuality under the carpet? Are we condoning the silencing of gays and lesbians just because it makes us uncomfortable?"
"Rachel, we are not trying to do that at all," sighs Mr. Schu. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea. He'd probably have more luck trying to get this group to sing the Disney Spectacular Medley.
"I think it's a good idea," says Kurt.
Everyone turns and looks at him. He shrugs his shoulders.
"I mean, the point of the song is about how and why the artists chose their lifestyle. It's really got nothing to do with their sexuality. Sure, it's mentioned in this song, but it's more about the group together, despite their differences, fighting for the Bohemian lifestyle. What?" he asks the kids now staring at him with gaping mouths. "I've watched it a few hundred times. It's a personal fav."
"This is ridiculous," says Rachel. "We did 'Push It'. And now, we're afraid to—"
"Rachel—"
"Shut your mouth, Berry. Look, if the gay guy's okay with it, you're gonna have to be, too," snaps Puck.
Everyone now directs their attention to him.
"What?" he asks. "He made a point. And I'm sick of this song already, so let's get it over with."
Mr. Schu smiles, "Thank you. Any more objections before I read the new solo list?"
There is silence...for once.
"Good. Angel will be sung by Quinn. Benny will be sung by Puck. Kurt, you're Mark. Collins is Artie. Roger, Finn. Maureen, Mercedes. Mimi, Rachel. Joanne, Tina. Mike and Matt, you'll be Benny's business partners. Santana, you'll be the waitress. Now, does anyone have any more objections before we get started?"
"I do," says Quinn.
"Yes, Quinn?" sighs Mr. Schu.
"If you say anything about the Celibacy Club—" starts Mercedes.
Quinn shoots her a death glare. "No, it does not. But I can't do Angel. It's just not possible. It goes against my religion."
"You're playing an angel, how the hell is that against your religion?" snaps Puck.
The head cheerio whirls on him. "Shut up, Noah Puckerman."
He purses his lips and arches an eyebrow. "What are ya gonna do to me?" His eyes are challenging and gleaming with a secret meaning that only Quinn understands.
Quinn's eyes narrow and she spins back in her seat to face forward, her blonde hair whipping around with a snap.
"That's what I thought," Puck sneers, but his face falls, but only for a fraction of a second. His hard, challenging expression slides back into place.
Ignoring him, Quinn continues. "Mr. Schu, I won't sing the part." She sits back and crosses her arms, her trade-mark "Try-to-Make-Me" smirk on her face.
Mr. Schu sighs heavily.
"Fine. Brittany?"
"Uh, Mr. Schu, you said that, uh, I wouldn't have to sing by myself." Brittany nervously squirms in her seat.
"Right. Ummm. Fine, Santana, you're singing Angel's part. Quinn, you'll be the waitress. Is everybody happy, now?"
Whether or not any member of Glee isn't completely happy, no one says anything because of the look on their teacher's face. He looks exasperated. No one's given him this much trouble about soloists since Mercedes had her "I ain't Kelly Rowland" outburst.
"Good. Now, since we've lost most of the time already, I'm going to say we're done for today and then, at our next rehearsal, we are going to get something done. Got it?"
The kids nod.
"Good. Be gone."
Mr. Schu puts his head down on the piano as they all scramble out of their seats and out the door.
"Mr. Schu?"
"What?" snaps the teacher. He looks up and sees Kurt, who is backing away.
"Sorry," Kurt begins. "I don't mean to bother you."
"No, no. Don't worry about it, Kurt. What's up?"
"I just think that La Vie Boheme is a good idea, and wanted to tell you that."
"Well, I think you're the only one who thinks that right about now," Mr. Schu says frankly.
Kurt smiles ruefully. "I've always wanted to sing Mark, mostly because I love Anthony Rapp. But, seriously, Mr. Schu, besides this drama," he flaps his hand in the direction of the now-empty chairs. "It's good that you're giving us this. Y'know, it's funny, but the second time around, you've hit the nail on the head, almost dead-on."
"What do you mean?"
Kurt grins as he sits, crossing his legs. "I mean, I suppose this isn't gossip as much as it's information, right? You should know what's going on in your Glee club."
Mr. Schu smiles. "Sure. We could call it that."
"Okay, so Rachel's in love with Finn, but she and Puck were an item for, like, 5 seconds. And I think Finn totally might like Rachel, the goob." Kurt sighs, almost wistfully. "But he doesn't want to do anything 'cause of Quinn being with his baby and all. It's kinda like the Roger-Mimi-Benny triangle. Minus the pregnancy thing. And then there's Maureen and Joanne, I mean, disregarding the lesbian thing, they're always together. Mercedes and Tina are best friends. They work well together—Mercedes hogging the spotlight with her soprano, Tina hiding in the background with her alto."
Here Kurt sighs again, now somewhat affectionately.
"Gotta love the altos. So low-key compared to those soprano divas. Oh, no pun intended. And I can say that because I am a soprano. Well, technically, tenor. Whatever."
Kurt waves away his sidetrack.
"Anyway, Mike and Matt, well, honestly, Mr. Schu, they're still background singers. I'm not even sure why they joined. But they represented, at one time, the slushie-throwing dark side—the jocks. And they, and the Cheerios, posed a threat to Glee—our Bohemian lifestyle, if you want to go for an analogy, ya know? Vive la vie Glee, and all that. Like the guys who are semi-nameless in the show, who are like 'Let's tear down the low-rent apartments and put expensive stuff there.' We go against the main-stream that is cultural Teenage America. Vive la vie Boheme...vive la vie Glee."
Mr. Schu's eyebrows go up. Kid's really thought about this, he muses.
"Artie's the guy who says funny things and smiles through everything. Collins is like that. I mean, he's got his disability and he still lives through it, he's the good-natured one. Ya know? Honestly, with your changes, Angel and Collins don't even have to be an item. Those who know the show, and in this case, they probably just know the movie—tragic—however, those who know the basic plotline would say something, but unless you plan on taking this to competition, it's not gonna affect anything. Santana and Artie don't even have to interact, it's all good. Santana will do okay as Angel. I mean, Angel's kinda into fashion, but mostly drumming. Santana's not into that, as far as I know. Or even music. I don't even know if she has a sense of fashion. All that horrid polyester red."
Kurt shudders.
"Quinn would be a better Angel, if she'd let herself go a little. It'd add a little irony to the situation, too."
"What do you mean by that?"
Kurt's smile is devilish. "You mean 'What do I mean by Miss Purity being knocked up by her boyfriend, Finn?'"
"Oh. Right."
"Exactly. The only problem is that Angel's passionate about lots of stuff. Quinn's not. Maybe about Finn, maybe Cheerios, but that's it. The only one who's got the real passion, besides myself, is Rachel."
Mr. Schu nods. He knows this too well.
"And then there's moi. I sit here, and watch it all go on. I don't video-tape, like Mark, but I get perspective and learn things through them. I mean, I'm in the fray here too, and they are my friends, just like Mark. And he sorta sits back a bit and narrates. Which is what I just did." Kurt rises to go.
"I think my input's done here. All I really wanted to say was that I really do think this is a good idea. And to thank you for giving me the chance to sing Mark."
"You're welcome, Kurt."
Kurt walks out of the rehearsal room and once the door closes behind him, Mr. Schu puts his head in his hands.
"Giving up, Schuester?"
Recognizing Sue Sylvester's voice, Will rubs his temples once before replying. He doesn't turn around.
"No, Sue. Just working on a new piece that will knock your socks off."
"I don't wear socks. Socks are for girls."
"And humans, generally," Will remarks as he turns around to face the woman hell-bent on getting rid of him.
"I'm not human, Will. Good deduction. Come up with that one yourself?"
"Yeah, I did. Thanks."
"So what little twinkly tune are the losers singing now?"
"They are working on La Vie Boheme."
"I don't know Spanish, Will."
"It's French, Sue. It's from Rent."
"You mean that movie that's all about sex, drugs, and AIDS? Hah! They think their lives are hard. Try juggling all of that and affording botox. That's hard."
Ew, Will thinks as the Cheerio coach turns on her heel and starts walking away.
"I doubt you can pull it off, Schuester. In fact, if you do, I'll buy you a puppy."
"My wife is allergic to dogs."
"Exactly," grins Sue over her shoulder. "You better be careful, Will. Your little club's going down faster than those characters' T-cell count."
"We'll see about that," snaps Will.
xxx
"Who died?" asks Santana, sounding like a very bored Valley girl.
"Our Akita," dead-pans Puck.
Only Artie shows any enthusiasm as he and Santana say "Evita?"
Finn misses the line completely.
"You make fun, yet I'm—"
"Alright, alright—stop!" Mr. Schu waves his arms. "That, that was awful. "
Glee Club has been rehearsing La Vie Boheme for the past two weeks, and Mr. Schu cannot get the emotion he wants out of certain members. Santana has him wanting to pull his hair out.
"Can we try that one more time? I know it's just a song, but put some life into it! Some emotion! Santana, you are deader than a piece of wood. Let's try this again."
Santana, stony-faced, whirls and faces Puck.
"Who. Died!" she screams.
Mr. Schu closes his eyes. "That's it," he says quietly, but firmly. Santana looks up at him, surprised.
"This is ridiculous. You've never fallen apart like this. Santana, you don't care, you don't want the part—so say so. Puck, you're not convincing. Artie's trying his hardest. Kurt is pulling more than his weight. He's not supposed to be covering up your mess-ups. Mercedes and Tina, we're not making you act like you're in love. Let loose and enjoy it a little. Rachel, you look like you're going to throw yourself at Finn. Don't grab him. Quinn, you haven't done a thing to help. Matt and Mike and Brittany are pulling their weight, trying to act like an ensemble. To say I'm disappointed is an understatement." He sighs. "I don't know what else to do. Rachel, you're singing Angel. Quinn, you're Mimi. No butts," he says to both Rachel and Quinn.
Rachel's mouth drops. She looks about to yell at Mr. Schu. But Quinn beats her to it.
"I will not. I will not sing the word 'dildo.'"
"You just said it," Puck says.
She glares at him.
"What? I didn't think you'd ever have the ability to say such a dirty word," he jeers.
"Dildo. Dildo. Dildo!" she cries, much to everyone's shock.
"Enough, Puck. Quinn," interjects Mr. Schu.
"C'mon, Quinn, we'll get to sing together," offers Finn hopefully.
Quinn pauses at this suggestion. She looks at her boyfriend and he smiles crookedly at her.
"But she doesn't know the part," Rachel blurts out desperately.
"Rachel, it's not that difficult," Mr. Schu tells her. "Quinn, look, you've got talent. Whether you're here or not on Sue's orders, you need to pull your weight in this club. Or you can leave."
Quinn's eyes pop at Mr. Schu's direct words.
He raises an eyebrow at her. "You've proven you can say that word. Can you sing it?" he challenges, holding out Mimi's music.
They lock eyes for a minute. Quinn snatches the paper.
"Mr. Schu! I can't sing Angel! The notes—"
Without looking away from Quinn, Mr. Schu tells his star to shut up.
xxx
The curtains open and the lights come up on New Directions Glee Club. The stage is set with two wooden tables, one long and wide and one short. There are three chairs at the small one, and multiple at the long one. There is a ramp on the end furthest downstage on the long table .
Onstage are Mike and Matt in business suits, sitting at the small table, watching. At the long table sit Kurt, Rachel, Artie, Mercedes, Quinn, Finn, Santana, Brittany, Tina, all dressed in their characters. Kurt even has the infamous blue and red sweater on. Puck, also clad in business attire, stands at the end of the long table and faces the audience.
"Who died?" asks Rachel as the first three chords are played.
Puck adopts a solemn tone. "Our dog, Akita."
"Evita?" Rachel, Artie, and Finn ask, their eyes alight with their characters' knowledge of the dog's demise. Rachel even looks a little guilty.
"You make fun but I'm the one, attempting to do some good. Or do you really want a neighborhood, where people piss on your stoop every night?" sings Puck, walking around the table, clapping Artie and Finn on the shoulders. "Bohemia, Bohemia's a fallacy in your head. This is Calcutta. Bohemia is dead."
With satisfaction, Puck walks back to the table. Kurt gets up and walks over to where Puck had been standing. He takes on a mock-mournful look.
"Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes." Artie and Finn stand and sing in Latin, under Kurt. "Dies irae - dies illa..."
Kurt continues. "Here she lies! No one knew her worth, the late great daughter of Mother Earth. On these nights when we celebrate the birth…In that little town of Bethlehem, we raise our glass - you bet your ass to -"
Simultaneously, as Kurt says the word "ass," all the girls slap theirs.
"…La vie Boheme…"In perfect harmony, under Kurt's held note, not giving away that this group had fought viciously for weeks over this song, the group raises their glasses together.
"La vie Boheme. La vie Boheme. La vie Boheme. La vie Boheme."The music speeds up and becomes more lively, leaving behind the funeral dirge. Kurt, standing on the table and grinning from ear to ear, plunges in.
"To days of inspiration, playing hookey, making something out of nothing. The need to express- to communicate. To going against the grain - going insane, going mad. To loving tension, no pension - to more than one dimension. To starving for attention, hating convention, hating pretension - not to mention, of course, hating dear old Mom and Dad. To riding your bike, midday past the three-piece suits. To fruits - to no absolutes- to Absolute - to choice- to the Village Voice- to any passing fad!"
As everyone else drops their "La Vie Boheme's" for "Oo's," Kurt faces the audience and raises his fist in the air.
"To being an 'us' for once ... instead of a 'them'!"
Mr. Schu's face breaks into a grin from the back of the auditorium, as Kurt's triumphant yell against the popular groups echoes.
"La vie Boheme, La vie Boheme!"
Everyone cheers, hugging and jumping and dancing. Tina and Mercedes are standing in front of the table and Tina kisses Mercedes on the cheek. Matt coughs pointedly.
"Hey Mister. She's my sister!" Mercedes grins mischievously at him. She grabs Tina's hand and twirls her in a circle back to their seats.
Everyone sits as Santana, dressed in a short waitress gown, jumps up, pad in hand. "So that's five miso soup, four seaweed salad, three soy burger dinner, two tofu dog platter, and one pasta with meatless balls."
"Eww." Finn crinkles his nose in disgust.
Artie shrugs. "It tastes the same."
Quinn, next to Finn, snorts. "If you close your eyes."
Santana continues, "And thirteen orders of fries. Is that it here?"
Enthusiastically, they all shout "Wine and beer!" and all stand up.
Rachel and Quinn leap onto the table. "To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries. To yoga - to yogurt - to rice and beans and cheese. To leather, to dildoes," Quinn winces, just a little bit. "To curry vindaloo. To hueros, rancheros, and Maya Angelou!"
The girls run down the ramp off the table, and spilt going back to their places on opposite sides of the table, as Mercedes and Artie round the sides of the table. "Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion. Creation, vacation…"
Kurt, now standing on the table, puts his hand up to the side of his mouth like he is going to tell a secret. "Mucho masturbation!" He winks as he jumps off the table.
Mercedes and Artie continue. "Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new--"
Artie raises his hand. "To Sontag!"
Rachel is now standing on the table, takes his hand and walks down the ramp. "To Sondheim!"
All the girls grin. "To anything taboo!"
Finn and Artie are now in front of the table. Grabbing hands in a complicated handshake, created just for this purpose, they sing. "Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham, and Cage…"
Artie rolls up the ramp to the table. "Lenny Bruce!"
Finn mock-bows. "Langston Hughes!"
Mercedes smirks a little as Rachel pushes through the two boys and takes what was intended as Maureen's line. "To the stage!"
Together, the group sings "To Uta. To Buddha. Pablo Neruda, too."
Facing each other intently, Kurt and Quinn, standing on chairs, slap one foot down on the table. "Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow…" They turn and face the audience, both of their faces in a fierce joy in their independence. "…To blow off Auntie Em!"
Again erupts the chorus as they all clamber onto the table and chairs. "La vie Boheme!"
Again, Mike coughs at Tina and Mercedes, who are dancing closely together on the table. "Sisters?"
Tina slaps Mercedes' butt. "We're close," they grin evilly.
Finn, Kurt, and Artie fist-bump each other. "Brothers!"
Rachel and Quinn grab Kurt by each arm and drag him down the table. Together, all three sing "Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens, carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman! German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein, Antoniotti, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana!"
The entire club turns towards the short table, where mike, matt, and Puck are sitting there, trying to look disgusted.
"To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy! Vaclav Havel - The Sex Pistols, 8BC! To no shame - never playing the fame game…"
Artie rolls down the ramp, holding a white cigarette. "To marijuana!"
They now turn to the audience. "To sodomy, it's between God and me! To S & M!"
Matt and Mike get up and walk offstage, shaking their heads, calling "Waiter ... Waiter ... Waiter ....... Waiter!"
Puck starts to follow them, but turns back and looks at the Glee kids. He shrugs and joins their group, with much back-slapping.
"La vie Boheme!"
Mr. Schu smiles. That had been a hard part to work out, because they needed stronger male vocals for the rest of the scene. Having Matt and Mike and Puck sing onstage didn't really matter, the audience wasn't paying them attention. But once they left, the balance was off. So, like a few other parts, New Directions had made it that, in their version, Benny stayed with the Bohemians.
Artie grabs a glass and raises it high as everyone settles back into seats. He speaks "In honor of the death of Bohemia an impromptu salon will commence immediately following dinner…" He points at Mercedes. "Maureen Johnson, just back from her spectacular one-night engagement at the eleventh street lot, will perform Native American tribal chants backwards through her vocoder, while accompanying herself on the electric cello, which she ain't never studied."
Finn leaps up now on the table. He points at Kurt. "And Mark Cohen will preview his new documentary about his inability to hold an erection on the high holy days."
Kurt tries to hide his blush as he takes Finn's place. "And Mimi Marquez, clad only in bubble wrap, will perform her famous lawn chair-handcuff dance to the sounds of iced tea being stirred."
Quinn, whose lips are severely pursed, makes a little curtsey as she sashays past Kurt. Kurt swings his arm over her shoulder and points at Finn, who is now holding Artie's guitar. "And Roger will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song….that doesn't remind us of Musetta's Waltz!"
Kurt and Quinn are pushed out of the way by Rachel, who starts strutting down the table as if she were a runway model as Artie gives her introduction. "Angel Dumott Schunard will model the latest fall fashions from Paris while accompanying herself on the 10 gallon plastic pickle tub."
She walks down the ramp and spins Artie around as she talks. "And Collins will recount his exploits as anarchist, including the tale of the successful reprogramming of the M.I.T. virtual reality equipment to self-destruct, as it broadcasts the words…"
Everyone stands and shouts in unison "Actual reality - Act Up - Fight AIDS"Quinn grabs Finn and pulls him away from the crowd. "Excuse me, did I do something wrong?
I get invited, then ignored all night long."
Finn runs his hand through his hair. "I've been trying. I'm not lying. No one's perfect. I've got baggage."
She clutches at his hand. "Life's too short, babe, time is flying. I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine."
Finn turns away. "I should tell you…"
Quinn grabs his arm. "I've got baggage too."
Finn faces her and takes her arm. "I should tell you."
Facing, each other, Finn and Quinn sing together "Baggage."
Everyone else, watching them, scream "Wine and beer!"
Something beeps. Finn slaps at his belt. Quinn sighs "AZT break."
Finn looks at her. "You?"
Quinn makes a face. "Me. You?"
Finn cups her face in both hands and leans toward her. "Mimi…" He leans down to kiss her.
The audience cat-calls for a moment.
Glee gives them time before cheering. "Yeah!"
Rachel comes over and rips Quinn away from Finn, not too gently.
"To dance!"
Smiling happily, Quinn dances down the table. "No way to make a living, masochism, pain, perfection, muscle spasm, chiropractors, short-careers, eating disorders!"
"Film!"
Kurt leaps up. "Adventure, tedium, no family, boring locations, dark rooms, perfect faces, egos, money, Hollywood, and sleaze!"
"Music!"
Rachel spins around Kurt. "Food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, rhythm, feeling, power, harmony, and heavy competition!"
"Anarchy!"
Mercedes and Artie roll down the table, playfully punching at each other. "Revolution, justice, screaming for solutions, forcing changes, risk and danger, making noise and making pleas!"
Together, the group begins to dance around the table. "To faggots, lezzies, dykes, cross-dressers, too!"
Mercedes throws her hands up in the air. "To me!"
Kurt is hoisted onto Finn and Puck's shoulders. "To me!"
The entire ensemble cries as they point to themselves, their fellow cast members, and then to the audience. "To you, and you, and you, you and you! To people living with, living with, not dying from disease!"
Triumphantly and fiercely, the Glee club belts out, "Let he among us without sin, be the first to condemn… La Vie Boheme! La Vie Boheme! La Vie Boheme!"
Mr. Schu hears Kurt's words ring in his head, how the Glee kids were living their own, unpopular lifestyle…and sees how they are reveling it. He smiles as Kurt sings amid the frenzy, over-top of the "La Vie Boheme's".
"Anyone out of the mainstream? Anyone in the mainstream? Anyone alive with a sex drive? Tear down the wall, aren't we all? The opposite of war isn't peace. It's creation!"
One last time, the ensemble cheers. "La Vie Boheme!"
Together, with fists held high, New Directions shouts "Viva La Vie Boheme!" and the last chord is played.
There is silence for a spilt second before the audience roars, jumping to its feet.
Mr. Schu smiles as his kids catch their breath, remaining in their poses, grinning as if they'd conquered the world. New Directions has done above the moon and beyond again. He sees Sue gaping for just a moment before pulling herself together and marching towards Figgins, probably to complain about talking about drugs and sex in front of a high school audience. Emma smiles at him and gives him a thumbs up. He looks back at the kids, now hugging each other, and taking bows.
He chuckles to himself, remembering the struggle to get here.
Vive la vie Glee, indeed.
Just a fun little way to see if I could capture the Glee characters :) Tell me if I did!
Sorry, the first time the lyrics got all weird.