Matt Rutherford crept into the dark auditorium.
It was so dark that no-one could see him, although he was already invisible by default anyway.
The New Directions were onstage, all huddled close together. Rachel Berry was clutching the shimmering gold first place Sectionals trophy, a scarily large smile on her face.
An angry scowl swept across Matt's face.
Everyone had forgotten about him.
Why?
When Kurt left for Dalton, everyone was weeping at his feet and begging him not to go. And now that over-muscly blonde douchebag was back in the mix and everyone was celebrating and worshipping the ground he walked on.
But when Matt Rutherford left, no-one cared. He didn't even get so much as a goodbye from anyone.
Just a, "Take it easy, Shaft," from Santana. And that was it.
Tears formed in in Matt's eyes, and he slumped into the closest auditorium seat.
He saw Finn, the lanky quarterback. He narrowed his eyes. He's always hated Finn, his narcissism and his constant failure to be a good team leader.
He saw Rachel. God, how he hated her. Her annoyingly high, chipper voice was as irritating as ever.
He saw Santana and Brittany. His old friends who had deserted him and ignored him even when he joined Glee club for them. Matt started grinding his teeth together in rage.
He saw Puck, the careless womanizer who had sex with everything with a pulse.
He saw Kurt, the effeminate gay kid with worryingly obscure teeth.
He saw Quinn, the girl who looked like she wanted to brutally murder everyone.
He saw Tina, the stuttering goth who was seemingly no longer a stuttering goth. Matt scowled. She was probably getting storylines now, too.
He saw Mike. He'd always liked Mike, because they had in common the fact that neither of them got any attention or storylines, and never spoke. But now Mike was practically a social butterfly, goofing around with some really weird-looking short kid with triangular eyebrows and an outfit which looked like he'd stolen from a five-year old girl.
Who the hell was that kid, anyway?
Matt glowered at the stage, watching them.
Everyone had forgotten about him.
Why? Just, why?
Sure, he hadn't exactly made himself known in glee club. But they were all unaware of his talent. Matt Rutherford was a tenor, soprano and a falsetto. He could hit the high F's, and he could rap well. Sometimes, back in Season 1, he liked to sneak onto the stage to belt out the last, jaw-dropping note of 'All By Myself', although he wasn't allowed to show it because the show had already used the song twice and didn't let him perform it.
He fought back the tears threatening to escape his eyes.
He was treated like a joke.
He remembered the only storyline he'd ever gotten.
The storyline about the spider that was in his ear.
He sighed grumpily.
Heck, that wasn't even a storyline. It was just an excuse to get rid of him for an entire episode. Even the episodes he was in, he just sat in the background with no idea what to do with himself. Every time he'd tried to join in, everyone was stare at him as if he was a stranger.
Matt Rutherford stood up shakily, sniffling, and left the auditorium.
He'd always thought that glee club was a place where outsiders got accepted, where they could express themselves freely and find joy.
But no. Now he knew it was all about shipping.
And Blaine Anderson, of course, whoever the fuck that was.
Matt Rutherford trudged out of the school, back to his lonely, lonely life.