Chapter 1

I do not own Glee just Elizaveta Andronikov. Also, I do not own the songs "Livin' on a Prayer" or "My Heart Will Go On". Yes, there is an original character in this story, but I promise you she will be productive and NOT a Mary Sue. Reviews are greatly appreciated :)

I fumbled with the dial of my locker as students rushed past me. Just as I approached the final number, I shoved the metal up, but the door didn't swing open.

Great.

Frustrated, I glanced down at my phone. 7:33. I referenced my new schedule and sighed. The warning bell would ring any second.

Beep. Of course. Right on time.

I adjusted my khaki messenger bag on my shoulder and ran my finger down the classes to see who my homeroom was.

Mr. Schuester. Room 213.

I fell into the river of streaming students heading to their classrooms. Following the increasing room numbers, I eventually found myself in front of his door.

Just relax. Everyone's nervous on their first day.

Taking a deep breath, I entered the classroom with a timid shuffle. The classroom was filled with chattering students, throwing paper airplanes and typing away on their phones. As though they sensed fresh meat, the classroom of juniors suddenly all looked up at me with skeptical eyes.

I gently brushed back my auburn waves and walked over to the teacher's desk. A man with curly brown hair sat behind it and rose at the sight of me.

He smiled warmly. "I'm guessing you're the new student. Elizaveta Andronikov, right? I'm Mr. Schuester. I'll be your homeroom teacher." He held out his hand.

I stared at it curiously. Was this some weird American greeting?

Noticing my confusion, he retracted his hand. Without questioning further, Mr. Schuester turned to the class with a wide grin. "Guys, this is our new student Elizaveta Andronikov. She's originally from Russia so let's give her a warm welcome. I trust that all of you will help her get around the school if she needs help." Then he glanced back at me. "Why don't you take a seat, Elizaveta?"

I nodded. Scanning the room, I could tell this school had some interesting characters. I sighed, taking a seat next to some boy swaying in his chair with bloodshot eyes. I could only assume he was drunk.

Today was going to be an interesting day…

Of course no one helped me throughout the day. That was way too much to ask for. I got lost twice and spent lunch at a table by myself, reading a book. If that wasn't bad enough, I missed my bus when I accidently left my bag in Mrs. Young's room.

Since I had to wait for my uncle to pick me up anyway, I decided to roam the halls of the school to get to know it better. I grazed my hands along the displays of trophies along the walls. A lot of them were inscribed to something called the "Cheerios". Shrugging, I kept on with my own little tour of the school.

About halfway down one of the hallways, I heard a faint sound of laughter. Curious what it could lead to, I followed it. I soon reached a large classroom with the door slightly ajar. I peered inside to see a bunch of students crowded around the piano rocking out to "Livin' on a Prayer". A short girl with dark brown hair and conservative clothes glided around the room, belting out the notes of the song. Her eyes were glued to a tall guy who also had dark brown hair as he sang the male part. I leaned against the wall, sighing. She clearly liked the boy, yet he paid her no attention. Was he really that oblivious? Squinting my eyes, I soon recognized the teacher that sat in the colored chairs. He was my homeroom teacher.

Mr... oh what was his name…Mr. Schuller? No. Mr. Schneider? No. Mr. Schuester? Yes, that was it!

All of a sudden, a vibration rippled through my pocket. My uncle was here to pick me up from school.

I tore myself away from the entertaining scene and headed out into the frigid November air. I pulled on my black knit hat and walked quickly over to the pick-up truck waiting in the parking lot. Shivering, I hopped into the car, setting my book bag on the floor in front of me.

"So how was your first day?" my uncle David asked, before starting the engine.

I was dying to tell him how my new school was a damn joke, and how I'd rather go back to Russia and stay in the orphanage. I would do anything to get out of this hellhole called William McKinley High School. But me being me, I forced back the biting words and plastered a smile on my face.

"It was great."

The first two weeks of school were no better than the first day. I sat alone at lunch every day, and I could hear people whispering about me as I walked down the hallway. The hot stares of students made my skin crawl as I strode from class to class. This school just gave me goose bumps.

I wandered into the classroom where I found out glee club was held every day after school. I threw my bag onto a chair and sat down at the piano. By coming down twice a week to listen to them sing, I learned that the club didn't start until three. I had ten minutes before people would arrive.

I pressed my fingers onto the cool ivory sending a beautiful melody surging out of the instrument. Poising myself in perfect position, I allowed the music to carry me away.

"Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you, that is how I know you go on. Far across the distance and spaces between us, you have come to show you go on."

My fingers floated across the keys as my breath came in and out in rhythmic patterns. I knew this song by heart; every note, every lyric, every dynamic. My body leaned and pulled along with the crashing and softening of the gorgeous sounds that exploded from my fingertips. All my frustration of the past two weeks poured out before me as I put all of my heart into my voice.

"You're here, there's nothing I fear, and I know that my heart will go on. We'll stay forev-," I sang, belting out the climax, until I sensed another presence.

My face burned with embarrassment as I removed my hands from the keys and stood up from the bench. I didn't dare turn back.

"I-I'm sorry. So sorry," I said breathlessly as I scrambled to gather up my bag and Vera Bradley lunch box.

For the first time, I spun around to see my intruder. The guy with the dark brown hair who sang "Livin' on a Prayer" was standing there, awkwardly.

"Who are you?" he questioned.

"Elizaveta Andronikov," I answered, hesitating.

"Are you new here?"

I nodded. "No one's here usually. I was just leaving. I'm so sorry," I stammered. I quickly gripped my shoulder strap to keep my hands from quivering.

He licked his lips. "I finished up in the library early today."

I nodded again, blushing profusely. I strode toward the door, keeping my head down and eyes on the floor. The sound of his voice stopped me.

"You're really good though. Have you ever thought about trying out for Glee?" he asked.

I turned around and shook my head. "I don't sing in front of people."

"There's really no difference, you know. Just imagine everyone in their underwear," he said with a small grin.

I cocked an eyebrow. Why were Americans so strange?

"Bye, and I'm sorry-" I began, but trailed off as he never gave me his name.

"Finn. Finn Hudson," he replied.

Clearing my throat, I nodded my head in acceptance. "Bye, Finn."

I started down the hallway, but I didn't get two steps when I heard his voice call out to me again.

"Just consider it, okay?"

I spun around, giving a fake smile. "Okay, I will."

Four words. No. Way. In. Hell.