"Amesbury Coswell, former Broadway Star has returned to Lima" the headline had read. "Yay! Congrats Ames, no one has to act surprised now when they see you," I tell myself as I pick up the newspaper that had laid on my parents porch steps. I stood there looking at it in the light rain wondering if I should stay out there a bit longer, or if I should go in.

I decide on going in, my parents would worry sick about me being in this rain for so long anyways. As much as I hated to think of it, I hoped that they wouldn't make a big deal out of it. This was just temporary.

"Welcome home Ames," my mother greeted as I came inside, and I was glad when she didn't make a big deal out of this.

"Thanks mom," I tell her as I give her a hug. "Where's dad?" I ask as I noticed he's not there.

"He's out on the field. It's soccer practice, you know, and those freshman will need some coaching, if they want to make it to varsity next year," she tells me. Of course, the soccer fields of McKinley High, where else would he have been? Dad had been the assistant JV coach for as long as I could remember.

"Thanks mom, I'll be back later," I tell her as I give her a kiss on the cheek, and run back out to my jeep to head to the school. Seeing the old high school wouldn't hurt, and besides, I'm sure a few things had changed. Every place you go to, something changes. Sure enough, a few minutes later I had been correct. Walking through, I had noticed the gymnasium had been renovated. Some William Schuester had become principal (good God, I hoped he was better than Sue Sylvester.) The music room had a few new trophies (sadly noted nothing after 2015, or was it 14?) and had earned a new plaque of some kid I had never met, so the name didn't ring a bell, and had suddenly wished I had met him.

Finally I head out to the fields. Or at least attempt it. That was when Dylan McShera had stopped me dead in my tracks, as he had caught me..

"If it isn't?" he started, and stopped. His dark brown hair, and brown eyes. Damn he still looked like he had before I left Lima. "It's good to see you back Punky Brewster," he mentions, finally bringing back the flashback to freshman year. The year he had started calling me that, and the year of other things.

"What brings you here? Shouldn't you be in Alphabet City teaching students how to be Elphaba, or something?" he asks.

"No, dad sent me a letter saying that the school needed a new director for the Glee club, which, I didn't want to do, but what the hell? I'm retired from Broadway anyways," I tell him, as I turn and get ready to head to the fields. "I guess, I'll see you around," I tell him as I depart, despite telling the first thing that had come to mind. I really didn't receive the letter, and I had no clue if they really needed someone for Glee Club, if it had really been a thing anyways. Thinking back at it now, the music room had seemed a little dusty, but the piano had been covered up.

What the hell? May as well give it a visit, dad would be coming around soon anyways, it was almost five.

Stay as a needle dropping on a vinyl

Neon singer with a jukebox title full of heartbreak

Thirty-three, forty-five, seventy-eight

When it hurts this good you gotta play it twice

Another vice

All dressed up in a pretty black label

Sweet salvation on a dining room table

Waiting on me

Where the numb meets the lonely

It's gone before it ever melts the ice

Another vice, another call

Another bed I shouldn't crawl out of

At 7am with shoes in my hand

Said I wouldn't do it, but I did it again

And I know I'll be back tomorrow night oh

"Nice to know you haven't lost your touch," I heard daddy announce as he must have been standing there long enough to figure out where I would be.

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask, as I stand up from the piano bench, and run over to give him a hug. He hadn't lost anything. His gray blue eyes still shined. His autumn colored hair, looked a tint darker.

"Just long enough to know that Mr. Schuester wants you to show up tomorrow, and get this club thingee under way," he tells me with a smile. "Welcome back by the way," he adds.

"Thanks," I tell him as I walk out with him. "This is only temporary, remember?" I remind him as he steps inside his truck, and starts to head for home.

"Don't forget. Tomorrow. Seven thirty sharp," and then he was gone.

If that was the case, then, I had probably get myself prepared.


Song credit: Vice - Miranda Lambert