Will's knuckles collided with the tan lockers of McKinley, pain arching up his arm like lightning. The thin metal made a satisfying crack, he pulled his hand away. His heart was pumping steadily, and he leaned against the abused lockers for support. Today had been the worst Glee club meeting all month, and that was saying something. Practices; people, were brutal, and anyone who joined either was getting in good with the cool kids, or was insanely talented. If you were neither of those, then you had to be just stupid, right? Will was certainly not going to get into any good graces after today, but he did have talent. Just not as much as he needed.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and sent off a simple text, to Emma.

Stayed After. Pick me up?

It was only a few seconds before Emma replied.

20 minutes. Tutoring rn.

Will shook his head slightly, to clear it. Of course. Emma had said she'd be tutoring. Emma was his best friend, and perhaps one of his only friends. He slumped against the abused locker, and stared up at the cracked ceiling that needed repainting. He considered, rather rationally, on what point the day had gone straight up shit creek.

...

The first sign should've been stepping into the glee club room.

The door had been left open, and despite him arriving a few minutes early, he was one of the last to arrive. The low thrum of conversation permeated the air, people gathered around the door. He felt the air swish past his leg as someone kicked violently at his ankles. It was only instinct, or maybe from the practice of his own clumsiness that prevented Will from falling on his face. Instead he jumped slightly, and fell into one of the upperclassmen. "Watch it!" A boy who's name he thought was Derrick shoved him back. "Sorry." Will said, meekly. He looked around, to see who had pushed him, but aside from a few turned heads it was impossible to see through the gathering. Will felt a sharp spike of anger, but he pushed it down, and through the people.

A few seconds later, Mr. Alonso spoke up. "Everybody to their seats, please. Everybody to their seats!" Their glee teacher had a tendency to repeat himself, and it was several minutes later, before everyone really had quieted down. Will quietly sat down in the front. Mr. Alonso didn't appear to be disturbed about the obvious lack of focus in the air, he just waited patiently. When he spoke, however, the club went quieter without being asked.

"Now, I understand you all are finding yourself busy with exams as the school year begins. Very soon, the auditions for the fall musical will be posted, and I hope to see a stunning audition from all of you. Those of you who were here for the first practice already know what it is but for those of you that don't, this year we will be putting on a performance of Grease." Mr. Alonso stated.

The class murmered excitedly, and Will couldn't resist the slight smile that crept up his face. This year, there was a musical that he was excited about. Not to say he hadn't been before, but Grease was a classic.

"Now, the auditions will be-" Mr. Alonso began. The door swung open, and a sopping wet figure pushed through. Piercing eyes glared down from underneath plastered blonde hair. " ." Mr. Alonso stated reproachfully. "Would you like to explain why you're late. This is not how you get a leading role, young man." Bryan Ryan sputtered. "It wasn't my fault, sir. My car broke, it took me ages to get it going again-"

The class snickered. Mr. Alonso sighed. "Take a seat, Mr. Ryan." Bryan walked over to the bleachers, where, Will noticed with a start, there was only one opening. Right next to him. Shit. Bryan met his eyes, and he was pretty sure he saw the same thoughts flash through his eyes.

Bryan sat down with a sigh, and Will focused on his new objective - which was staring straight ahead and not meeting the older boys eyes. Bryan ignored him when he was in a good mood, and Bryan was nowhere near a good mood right now.

"As I was saying," Mr. Alonso continued, "The auditions will be in exactly two weeks, and I expect you all to put your best foot forward. Past roles are not a guarantee of continued roles-" He seemed to stare at Bryan as he said this, "And not getting a role before does not mean you won't now." Will felt as if he had drunken several monsters and a red bull in quick succession. This was his chance! What he'd been waiting for, a chance to show everyone here that he could make it with them.

...

Several hours later, Will is broken from his thoughts by his phone buzzing once more.

I'm out front :) :)

Will pushed himself to his feet from where he'd been slumped against the locker, and pulled his bag pack over one shoulder. Emma's red Subaru was waiting as he stepped outside. Will slid in. "Thanks, Em." He said. Emma smiled at him. "No problem. I was just finishing up with tutoring, anyways. Michaels' a smart kid, I think he just needs focus. You should see him talk about Five nights at Freddy's - he's obsessed."

"Five nights at Freddy's?" Will asked.

"Killer animatronics." Emma clarified.

"okay." Will nodded. "Wait, isn't he only 9? That's a little young for killer animatronics, isn't it?"

Emma smiled a little. "Well, you'd think so. I'd agree, but Micheal's given a certain amount of free reign."

Emma began to restart the car.

"You ever played it?" Will asked.

Emma nodded. "Only when babysitting - Wait, Will, where's your gym stuff?" She asked.

"Shit." Will enunciated. "Give me 5 minutes to grab it? I can promise running will be involved."

Emma unlocked the door.

"Go. Run, Forest, run." she called after him. Will's shoes hit the worn pavement, and he ran back into the school. The front door would usually be locked, but it was an unspoken courtesy to wedge a rock in one of the doors on Friday afternoons. Will slipped through, his footsteps echoing off the marble and occasionally the unevenly carpeted floor.

He pulled the gym locker door open in one - well two - pulls and skidded to a half. He took a moment to take a few breathes.

There was a single other figure, still changing in the locker room. Will would recognize Bryan's silhouette anywhere, and he attempted to back track, bag be damned. Bryan's was turned, and bandages were wound tightly around his chest. Bryan was carefully winding them around, but as he turned, Will saw.

Will decided right then he really needed to reevaluate his definition of shit hitting the fan.