If there was one thing Wesley Montgomery prided himself in, it was his innate ability to understand people.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. He prided himself in his 4.2 grade point average, his position on the Warblers' Council, his senior class president role. There was his ability to control a crowd and his bilingual fluency, the fact that he would be spending his first year of college studying pre-law in the Ivy League. But asked what he was most proud of, none of those facts would come to mind. Wes' first answer would always be his ability to read people.
Maybe it was just a natural talent he possessed, or maybe it was growing up the oldest of seven. He didn't know where it stemmed from, and he never really cared to question it. He just knew it had always come in handy, first with his siblings, and then later on with his Warblers. Yes, even after leaving, he still thought of them as his. He was able to get himself onto the council his sophomore year, and by the time he was a senior, seated alongside two of his closest friends, he had earned a reputation as the group's therapist. Despite his faux detest of the nickname, it made him able to look back on his position with a genuine smile.
He was able to tell if rehearsal would be a hit or miss within seconds of it starting. He knew when the more mischievous underclassmen were planning some cheap prank, and made sure to give them subtle warnings to dissuade them before they were suspended with a light-hearted smile. He could tell when one of the younger Warblers was growing homesick. He watched as some of them over-worked, under-ate, and very nearly broke under the pressure that came with being a Dalton student. And he reassured them it would be alright, giving them his cell number and letting them know that "no time is too late if you need it."
He was the one to make sure their song choice was always something loud and up-beat on days the forecast called for thunderstorms, after seeing the way a young Trent Nixon shook from the noise during his first rehearsal. He thinks, eventually, Trent caught on, as he always seemed to smile at Wes when he announced P!nk on rainy afternoons. And he made sure upon leaving the school that he passed on his tip to his remaining councilmen.
He made sure to up his leadership role whenever David arrived before him to a meeting, not speaking unless it was absolutely necessary. He had learned those were the days when his friend had been on the phone with his father, a rather demanding man who never hid the fact that something about David was always imperfect, always the slightest bit flawed. He also knew when Thad was forcing himself to concentrate on the matters at hand despite his own duress, refusing to take his prescribed anti-depressants with claims that they drained him of his emotions and he would not depend on pills to function. When either of them was (understandably) unable to perform at their highest, it was an unspoken agreement that the other two would willingly increase their output.
On the rare but not totally unheard of days when David had gotten a phone call and Thad was on the verge of a mental breakdown, he texted all of the members saying rehearsal was cancelled, After sending the few students who had not gotten the message back to their dorms, he would follow them back to their dorms and stay until he was satisfied. He would watch Thad take the medication, as well as check for the following weeks, before talking with both him and David. He knew neither of his actions would be of much use once Thad's thoughts turned irrational, or David's test scores dropped a percentage or two. But for now, at least, his friends had at least a bit of mental appeasement.
He could not help but frown upon realizing Jeffery Sterling had returned to his self-harmful behavior, and made sure to track the blond down after practice and confront him about it. That was one of the few times when he resented his people-reading abilities, knowing he was unable to do anything for the boy that didn't risk breaking his trust. Instead, he did what he could: lend an ear and pray that there would be no more cuts the following day.
There were times when there was a clear lack of energy, and those were days when he knew Nicholas Duval's insomnia had struck, keeping him up all night and he just knew there were new marks under Jeff's blazer. He would send Nick out early with strict orders to "at the very least, go lie down for a bit," and keep his eyes strictly on Jeff, urging him once rehearsal was over to "please just talk to me,"though he knew he was just talking in circles. Either way, he was always at least partially glad the following day when Nick walked in at his normal energy level, with Jeff following his best friend's example. While he could not help but watch with a sad smile, those two were enough to boost the morale of the rest of the group, and that inadvertently made Wes' job so much easier.
He found himself seeking out a broken Blaine Anderson, a frightened, anxious 15 year old who transferred half-way through the year. Gradually, David and he managed to get the boy to return to his self before his transfer, ultimately building him up to the point where he became the Warblers' lead soloist, an example of how one could always rise above their past. And watching the look Blaine gave one mister Kurt Hummel during their impromptu Teenage Dream performance, he felt a sense of pride. He had shared a look with David after leaving Blaine and Kurt to talk on their own, and they both knew they had done right. It made him feel warm to know that Blaine would be most likely do for Kurt what they had done for him.
Of course he made sure he knew who was in charge, that 1/3 of all decisions were in his hands and that "this is still a school group, damn it, come to order!" That did not mean he was completely no-nonsense. He was naturally a peace-keeper, a counselor to the group he helped lead for three years, and he hoped that was enough.
Maybe he wouldn't have a legacy after his graduation. He hadn't made valedictorian (salutatorian, to his personal dismay,) and he knew he would not be remembered as some great president by his fellow graduates. No, he had not managed to stop Jeff from hurting himself, or convince David to stop letting his father pick apart his every mistake. He hadn't managed to change the school in any significant way, or any noticeable way, for that matter, but he could at least pretend it had all been worth something.
I honestly have no idea where this came from, but it's what happens when I have a need to write at 5am. I don't know, I've always been intrigued with the Warblers since we only ever got to know Blaine (and to a mild extent, Sebastian, but this is before his time so it's irrelevant.) And maybe it had something to do with the fact that I just watched a video of Telly Leung singing 'Today 4 U' that I chose to go with Wes. Plus I had an idea for another story that's basis is in this fic, and I just wanted to get it this out there. Like I said, it's 5am and I have yet to sleep, so any grammar or spelling mistakes, I apologize for. ：）