I'm rather proud of this one...It's just a oneshot, but it was interesting to write. Please R&R, it would make my day!
The man stepped out of his rusted Volvo, the old, beat-up car that his wife had made him use that day, into the school parking lot. "I'm visiting a very rich patron," his wife had told him, "and I'm pretty sure that they want to hire me to work with their daughter once a week! They even said they would pay me extra if she could sing through the entire first act of Song And Dance flawlessly within a month, and you know that I could drill it into her."
The man had smiled, kissed his wife on the cheek, and bade her good luck, though he knew that she would likely be home late more often if she got the job. It was worth it, though- even though she was an excellent vocal coach, the pair was still struggling to make ends meet. That was the reason why he'd applied for a job at his old high school, William McKinley High- and consequently been hired. He was teaching English, since it had always been his best subject, as well as occasionally working the late-night janitorial shift. But though he was working constantly and got to spend time with his amazing wife at night, he wasn't even close to happy.
The man trudged through the parking lot of the school with his hands in his pockets, a habit from his youth that he had never quite broken. Aside from his poor posture, everything about him just screamed teacher- the neat collar shirt and tie, the dress shoes, even the shoulder bag filled to the brim with graded homework. He had become the one thing he despised most- a stereotype. Again.
He walked past kids making out by the flagpole, kids chatting near the school doors, and kids rapidly scribbling down their homework as a last-ditch effort to finish before the bell rang. And, of course, the one poor guy being tossed into a dumpster by the school's resident jocks. It was a familiar sight, one he had been faced with every morning for the past two weeks, and a sight that brought back both sweet and bitter memories from his days at this very school. As he climbed the concrete steps, he wished fervently that things could be like they once were before Will Schuester had left WMHS for the National Show Choir Association, before Glee had fizzled out and gone kaput. It was a lost enigma now, something the kids of the school had heard faint rumors and fables about but never really thought about it. It was nothing to anybody but the man. To him, it was a memory. It was a beautiful time spent pouring his heart into music, spent bonding with friends, spent having both the best and worst times of his life. To that man, who was really only a boy at heart, it was everything.
And it was also gone.
The man sighed and shook his head slightly to clear it. It was no uses reminiscing over days long ago- they were over, and there was no way to bring them back.
So he pushed the double doors leading into McKinley High open, and lost himself in the crowd.
The school day passed rapidly, as it tended to do, and soon the man found himself zipping up a blue janitor's suit over his neat, pressed clothing, and shuffling off towards the boys' locker room. It was the only place he was required to clean, but that was just as well. It literally took three hours to get most of the pungent stench of body odor and desperation out of the small, enclosed area. And that was on good days.
For the umpteenth time that day, the man shook himself out of his thoughts and began mopping up the sweat soaking the linoleum floor. The job was long and time-consuming, and if he wanted to spend more then fifteen minutes at home with his wife before he passed out on the sofa, he needed to get this done. He focused himself on cleaning, on working till his back ached and his head hurt and he just wanted to get out, for God's sake...
"And when the night falls on you,
And you don't know what to do,
Let me come along,
'Cause even if you're wrong..."
The man's head jerked up with such force that he heard his neck crack loudly. The singing resonating from the direction of the showers stopped momentarily at the noise, then continued.
"I'll stand by you,
I'll stand by you,
Won't let nobody hurt you..."
He crept slowly around the lockers, feeling like a complete stalker, but who cared? Someone was singing. Beautifully.
"Take me in into your darkest hour,
And I'll never desert you..."
A smile lit up his face, the same smile he had worn all too often as a young, hopeful teen, when he saw the boy's face. He looked and sounded almost exactly like the man, when he had been a boy, not so very long ago.
"I'll stand by you,
I'll stand by you,
Won't let nobody hurt you,
I'll stand by you."
And in that moment, the man knew what he had to do.
The man got home far too late, but he was much too excited to care. He got up early the next day, showered, and drove to the school in the Volvo once again, whistling the whole way. He danced through the school day joyously with more energy then he had been able to muster up in fifteen years, because he knew that what he was about to do would change the school- and his life- around completely. He couldn't have been happier.
At lunch break, he abandoned his sandwich and made his way down to the principal's office. The kids in the halls kept giving the teacher odd looks because of his newly cheery, hopeful attitude that none of them could manage to create. The man couldn't have cared less, because he wasn't thinking about that. He was carefully planning out exactly what to say, exactly what to do, so that the principal would see his reasoning and maybe, just maybe, let him go through with his plan. It was probably a slim chance, but it was a chance, after all. The man couldn't help but believe that it could happen again.
He pushed open the glass door leading into the office and gave the receptionist a jaunty smile, the type that used to make all the girls fall over their own feet (or so he thought). She nodded good-naturedly and let the man into the principal's office.
Once the door had closed behind him, all the noise from the hallway outside disappeared, and he was left alone with the principal.
She was slightly younger then the man, but she hadn't aged well- lines were beginning to mar her pretty face, and her blond hair was shot with streaks of gray. The years had not been kind to Quinn Fabray, and neither had life. After a nasty divorce the year before, she was left with two kids and no job. She had applied for a position as the Algebra teacher at the school, but had been offered the job of Principal, which she had gladly accpeted. Sometimes Quinn wished she hadn't, though. She was slightly miserable.
But this man brought back a thousand pleasant memories from her own days in the New Directions. He reminded her to stay grounded, that there was always something worth living for. It was she that had given him a leg up on the job, because all Quinn really wanted sometimes was a friendly face. And his face was exceedingly friendly today, for whatever reason. She knew it was unprofessional, but she couldn't help but smile back at her old friend. "Hey! How are you?"
He laughed. "I'm great. Fantastic, actually. Never felt better."
"Good!" she exclaimed. "You can pull up a chair, I haven't got anything to do right now." The man did so, still smiling. Quinn continued. "Have you heard from anyone recently?"
The man sighed, and suddenly the smile had disappeared. "Yeah. Kurt and Blaine are almost broke, 'cause Kurt's only doing articles still, and Blaine's unemployed. He applied for a desk job at a law firm near their flat, though. Mike and Tina are fine, they're still doing their dance studio thing with San and Britt in LA, and Britt's started teaching kindergarten. Mercedes is making a little bit doing backup for music videos, but nobody's signed her yet. She works at Starbucks."
Quinn rubbed her temples, and a brief silence ensued.
The blonde woman broke it, after much thought. "We were such big dreamers back then, wern't we? We thought the world was just going to be handed to us on a silver platter."
"What's wrong with dreaming?" replied the man. "We all have a right to dream."
Quinn said nothing. She just stared at the cold, grey rain lashing the window, looking almost like teardrops.
The man adjusted himself in his seat, leaning forward slightly. "I have an idea."
She turned to him, eager for a distraction. "What is it?"
He twiddled his thumbs. "I want to start Glee club again. Just the way it used to be. No competition, no rivalries...just music."
Quinn turned away from him momentarily, and when she looked back, he saw the tears in her eyes. "It seems that you're the only one who never really stopped believing."
"Always," replied Finn.
A/N Awwwww...I admit, I cried a little when I was writing this. I hope you liked it!