When Grace finally made this horrible decision, she never thought it would legit be this bad. Her initial thought was to intervene; she couldn't just keep standing there after witnessing that seizure inducing performance and not say anything. Grace may have quit her school's nationally ranked Cheerleading team, but she still knew a thing or two about giving a damn good show.

Thankfully the girl with the nose seemed to be operating on a similar wave length and voiced Grace's dismal thoughts. "We suck," she announced disapprovingly. She turned sharply to Mr. Schuester, her white gloved hands firmly on her hips, and Grace swore up and down that she saw her eyes turn black. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to cast the male lead of Sit Down, You're Rockin the Boat to a boy in a wheelchair?"

This girl had her own brand of crazy.

Grace, totally realizing how much she was actually straight up creeping on the small group of misfits, pushed herself to stroll into the bleak choir room. Totally leisurely, hands in her pockets and a lazy smirk.

"I think," she finally spoke. "That Schue was trying to use irony to enhance the performance. Lord knows you guys need it."

Now that Grace was feet away from Nose, she recognized her, but still couldn't recall her name. RuPaul, Manhands, and others came to mind- thanks to the Unholy Trinity, but Grace never actually knew who she was; just a girl who often wore Big Gulp slushies like they were going out of style.

"There is nothing ironic about showchoir," she spat at Grace.

Oh yeah, her own brand. Trademarked and bottled. Grace couldn't decide if she should laugh at the small girl in front of her, or be afraid of the flames that seemed to be rising from behind her glare.

The brunette continued by turning and storming from the room like a 4 year old throwing a tantrum and this time Grace did, in fact, laugh.

"Well jeez," she looked at the other 4 that made up the group, and their coach. "She's like an angry little troll, isn't she?"

Schue was beyond confused. By the time he recognized this girl who'd just up and waltzed into his Glee rehearsal, Rachel was storming out the door as the former chuckled with amusement. But, she wasn't in her Cheerio's uniform- which according to Sue would be punished so severely, that it would consist of the emotional equivalency to caning- and Schue only really knew her as Cheerio Grace; he had her written as that on his seating chart all of last year as to not mistake her with Grace Lee, the Junior in his first period that pulled out her eye lashes during class- Emma called it ICD, whatever that means.

But to see Cheerio Grace in his choir room without her Cheerio uniform- she was wearing a Led Zeppelin tour shirt, what's up with that?- was bewildering; this girl had hardly ever spoken in his class, and only spent her time with other cheerleaders. Maybe she was lost.

"Can I help you with something, Grace?" Schuester finally put the words together and feebly directed them to the unimpressed blonde who smirked back at him.

"Well," she began, doing a little snap-snap-clap with her hands. "I'd like to audition."

There was a moment of silence and the only thing rolling through Schue's mind was that he heard the girl wrong. Nothing that just happened was making any sense to him… She wanted to audition?

Mercedes filled the choir room with her laughter, tearing Schuester from his shock and earning a sharp glare from Grace. "I'm sorry," she said, although she continued to chuckle. "You want to join the Glee Club?"

Grace raised an eyebrow and smirked back at the girl in the red jersey. "Yeah," Grace shot back at her. "Why else would I ask for an audition?"

Schuester held up a hand when Mercedes hands went to her hips, ready to get all kinds of sassy. "Mercedes," Schue warned her. "Grace could be an asset to us. I'm sure she could really help with choreography."

Grace, more than a little miffed at the teacher's assumption, restrained from rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I could do that," she folded her arms over her chest. "But, I would rather you let me join because I can sing. Not because I used to be a Cheerio, so I obviously must be good with choreography."

Schue rubbed a hand over his face, he'd not purposely meant any disrespect, but Grace had been correct. Mercedes inability to keep her opinions to herself saved Schue from sticking his foot any farther into his mouth.

"You think you can sing?" the loud mouth continued, obviously not impressed by Grace. "I'd like to see what's in your repertoire."

Grace wasn't deterred by Mercedes doubt. In fact, she smiled almost happily while grabbing an acoustic guitar that the jazz band had left in the corner. "You know what?" Grace asked while pulling the strap over her head. "That performance you just did? It sucked."

Grace noticed Mr. Schuester looking like she'd just slapped him in the face. She may have felt a little bad, but only a little. "I don't think you can afford to be judgmental of others who want to join," she continued, looking back at Mercedes, "especially because there are only five of you. You won't win with five people."

Grace scanned the small group, only finding resistance in the sassy black girl. The other three looked desperate. It was then at she actually noticed Kurt standing amongst the group and she smiled at him, almost laughing as he rolled his eyes back at her. Grace turned back and smiled pointedly at Mercedes.

"You asked what was in my repertoire, what would you like to see?" she challenged. "Let me guess, you auditioned with an Aretha song?"

Mercedes frowned and crossed her arms while watching as Grace fished a guitar pick from her back pocket and started to tune the instrument. "I'll take your silence as a yes," she grinned and stared at her 4 school mates. "I bet it was little bit of C T, find out what it means to me? A song origionally written by Otis Redding, but Aretha took and recorded for herself. Doesn't sound like she really knew much about respect."

Schue leaned back against the piano, slightly dumbfounded. Grace was spewing out facts about musicians that he was sure more 16 year old girls had no clue about. In the pit of his gut Schue felt a little guilty for never giving this student much thought after seeing her in a Cheerio uniform. The was she handled the guitar showed him that she was more than familiar with it.

"You," Grace pointed the neck of the guitar towards Tina and smiled. "While I appreciate your gothic-screw-authority-I'm-unique look, I doubt you got up and auditioned with some screamo goth band music…a little more mainstream, maybe? I bet it was something a little controversial, though. Am I right?"

Tina smiled and nodded. "K-k-ka-katy-"

"Katy Perry?" Grace finished for her. Tina nodded, sending her colored extensions in her face. Grace began to strum the guitar and it was an easily recognizable tune.

"I kissed a girl and I liked it, I hope my boyfriend won't mind it. I kissed a girl just to try it. To try it," Grace laughed and then pointed at Kurt.

"Show tune," she said definitively.

"Mr. Cellophane," he crossed his arms at her, in a challenging stance.

Grace nodded, "Okay," she said lightly. "I don't know what the crap that is."

She moved onto the next one, being Artie, and smiled at him. "You were good," she told him. "While that song generally sucked, you sang it well."

Artie, not really expecting any compliments to come out of this girl's mouth, smiled and pushed up his glasses. "Thank you," he told Grace. "I auditioned with Let it Be by The Beatles."

"You're already my favorite," she grinned.

"Cut the crap already," Mercedes nearly barked. "Are you going to audition or what?"

Grace looked to Schuester. "May I?" she asked. Schue had no reason to deny this girl an audition. She was right, they had 5 members and they weren't all that great. Strength in numbers, right?

"Of course," he told the blonde with the guitar. She nodded in response and began to strum the instrument, looking completely in her element.

Grace had to admit that she was at least a little bit nervous. She'd been working on this song for days now, her brother had even been helping her out with it. Last night, she'd asked her brother for a final run through and afterwards he'd thumped her forehead and called her a fucking genius because whoever thought of an acoustic version of Thriller. Grace was sure it'd been done times before, but if he was going to call her a genius why argue?

"Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart," she sang, smirking as Schuester's eyebrows rose with surprise. Grace rocked on her feet with the beat as she continued. "You try to scream, but terror takes the sound before you make it. You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes, you're out of time! 'Cause this is thriller, thriller night! No one is going to save you from the beast with 40 eyes! Thriller, ohh, thriller night! You're fighting for your life inside of killer, thriller, yeah! Chiller, killer, thriller night!"

She finished with a satisfied grin, proud of her work, and happy to sing a Michael Jackson song. Mercedes places her hands on her hips as the others clapped.

"Alright," she nodded. "You're good."

Schuester clapped louder and grinned, "I'd say she's really good."

"So…am I in?"

"Yes, Grace," Schue chuckled. "You are definitely in."

"Great," she nodded and took off the guitar, placing it back in the corner with the rest of the jazz band equipment.

"S-so, can you ch-ch-choreog-g-graph?"

Grace paused and blinked at Tina for a moment after she spit out her question. "I was a Cheerio for Christ's sake. What do you think?" She rolled her eyes before leaving the choir room.

This, my friends, is a major rewrite. I originally started writing 'It Comes Down to Fate' years ago. I recently looked back at it and realized how rushed and sloppy it was. The story I wrote did no justice for Grace's character, and how I wanted to portray her. I was pretty embarrassed by it. I could do better.

So, here we go.

I make no promises as to how often this story will be updated. This is happening today only because I am off work for the next week and actually had some time to myself.

Thank you,

MJ