Title: SLUSH AND BURN (Prologue + Chapter 1/?)
Author: caffeinejunk
Rating: PG-13 (NC-17 for later chapters)
Length: 3,000+
Spoilers: vague season 2 spoilers
Summary: Angst/Romance/Humor. AU. Ray Brandon Berry is still hated by Quinn Fabray for no reason. But then, the improbable has decided to be the inevitable.
Pairings: male!Rachel/Quinn, Quinn/Sam, male!Rachel/Puck friendship, brief male!Rachel/Santana on later chapters
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
A/N 1: male!Rachel is named "Ray Brandon Berry". He's also wealthy and from New York. He calls Leroy "Dad" and Hiram "Pop".
A/N 2: Quinn was never pregnant because Quinn/Puck never existed. Sam transferred to Mckinley in his sophomore year and he's the quarterback. He and Quinn met and they quickly clicked, being the power couple of the school. Sam's kind of a douche here.
Prologue
Fuck.
It was freshman year when I moved in from New York to cowtown Lima, Ohio.
It was actually good move.
If you can call being slushied just after opening your locker good.
If you can call being on the bottom of the social pyramid good.
And, if you can call kissing the lockers every fucking time good.
If you agreed to all those statements, then you are probably borderline insane. I might as well be, too.
My life in Lima is as incongruous as a fish climbing trees.
Maybe it's just my pathological need to be a distinguished Broadway actor that's just speaking.
I mean, really? I'm from Manhattan, my fathers are successful, and yet I'm still shunned as if I spread the black plague.
I joined the Glee Club here the first chance I got with expectations that it is as popular as the one I left in New York. Well, saying "It was the biggest overstatement I've ever had" is a complete understatement.
After two years of lasting the wrenching pain and spiteful humiliation, I'm finally here again. In this terror train of a school.
It was junior year, and the improbable is brewing its cup of tea.
Chapter 1 Drip. Drip. Drop.
Splash. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drop.
As the lime slushie hits me square on the face just after I come into the building on the first day of junior year, I felt like it was just old times. Horrible old times.
But, god, it was a new flavour: LIME. Something I've hated for a long time. And its sugary corn syrup stung like a bee's on a summer's day. Oh, how I loved summer!
Before this dreaded day, I was curled up beneath my duvet covers just recovering from the hype of The Big Apple – the city where I was born, raised, and destined to thrive in.
But now, here I am. Drenched in the absolutely cryptic lime slushie sitting on the grubby floor while. I got a solid check from the obviously obese Neanderthal infamously named "Dave Karofsky".
He threw the empty cup at me and insinuated, "Hey, Fairy, your ovaries are showing!", then left laughing boisterously with his moronic friends.
Wow, they just ruined my perfectly good plaid shirt with argyle patterns on the back. And do you know what made it even profusely better?
Of course, Quinn Fabray slyly smirking on the side, obviously enjoying the first day misfortune. It's pleasant to know that nothing has changed since my first year at William McKinley High.
Supported by her unlikely best friends – Santana and Brittany – she looks down on everyone especially me.
Just when I was about to get up and go to the nearest restroom beside the drinking fountain – for me not to memorize the locations of lavatories in the whole campus would be so devastating – I got knocked down again. This time, face first on the floor. I feel completely revolted. Imagine what have these laymen stepped on!
As soon as I ended my liplocking session with the grimy floor, I found out that the noticeably vainglorious Sam gave me a firm bump on the back.
But the most surprising thing that I saw was not that my Biology teacher, Mr. Richards, was trying to put his frogs back in his small aquarium, it was that "Chastity Queen" Quinn Fabray was in a promiscuous public display of affection with her now boyfriend, Sam Evans. Or, should I now say "Chastity Quean"?
I have to admit right now, it's quite fitting.
Standing up, I quickly grabbed my backpack and headed for the restroom. You just really have to admire my luck at this point since Quinn just went up to me smirking, "Bieber, why don't you just quit school? Your obnoxiousness has no place here, even the floor is too disgusted for your faggot self." After that, she walked off with Santana and Brittany indifferently laughing with her, and with Sam's arm around her perfect waist.
Did I just say perfect? I am surely still ditzy from all the shoving.
I went inside the restroom, hastily opening my backpack just to find out that I didn't bring any slushie-ready clothes for today.
Damn.
Must be from the flight back to this hellhole of a town. Sigh.
I decided to just clean myself off with some paper towels. Sadly, when you're enrolled in a very thrifty school, even the paper towels are breakable with a touch.
"Berry, please get out of the restroom! Me and Quinn are going to have a very heated discussion right now. So just get the hell out of the room!" Sam said.
As I turned around to retort something about the lack of sanitation in our lavatories, I was appalled. Quinn and "Ladylips" Sam are already at it, touching crevices and bumps. Sometimes the campus nickname fits.
I can't even start about how awkward this is. I usually speak in paragraphs even in my head, but this – I had nothing for.
Two things took over my body then and then: disgust and arousal. I'm a guy; everyone would expect that from me, but luckily I have what everyone else doesn't: SELF-CONTROL.
I quickly cleared my throat and said, "Don't you two know that a plethora of germs are coming in contact with you just by breathing in the horrid air here? And the fact that you are inhaling rapidly because of your sexual actions right now, I assume you'll get a few infections by tomorrow. What you're doing is extremely unsanitary, I can't even comprehend how –"
I got cut off with a loud "Fucking shut up!"from Sam.
I'm a New Yorker and I don't even cuss that much, maybe because I've been thought how to keep some things subtle. Almost all things subtle.
I immediately grabbed my bag and headed for the door careful enough that I didn't disturb the two because, honestly, I'm sick of getting shoved and insulted.
Glee club practice was held every Monday, Wednesday and Friday; therefore, our first meeting will be held later today. That only meant one thing: we have to practice in order to win Regionals to be able to compete in Nationals which will again be held in New York.
Last year we took Sectionals, but lost Regionals maybe because Vocal Adrenaline was sensational with their rendition of Queen's completely storytelling song "Bohemian Rhapsody" and their backbreaking choreography. Unfortunately for us, not only do we lack the excess members but we also lack the much needed genuine teamwork.
I've had vocal lessons, piano lessons and dance lessons since I was just a baby. Literally. I was very musically verbal and heavily coordinated in such a very young age. I was destined for greatness!
I graduated middle school from The Town School. Known for its chorus and other arts programs, I became trained in the most gracious way.
I've always told myself that the Dalton School was going to be my home for the next four years of my high school life. I already got accepted in it and was even offered a spot on some of their prestige arts programs.
Everything was falling into place until my Dad, Leroy, got transferred to Lima to be the leader of his firm's branch there. He didn't need to ask my Pop, Hiram, if we could move to Lima for just about his four-year term as president there because it was obviously my Dad's dream. He didn't really need to ask me too. I was really happy for him, but not so much for me.
Coming to Lima, I had no friends or relatives. Coming from a very big and open city, we expected that the city would be a quiet break from the entire ruckus that is New York; however, we were wrong.
Nothing has still changed. I still don't have any friends up to today. I give Lima a thumbs-up for consistency!
Yes, Lima, Ohio is a very silent town. I don't know if it's even in the map. But, as a responsible person of the society, I made some research on what's about this tiny town. From my research I got three main conclusions, and they are the following:
Not many people know about it. Judging from the results on Google, no one really ever cared about it also.
Bigotry is apparently a fad in this miniscule town which is very bad news for me and my fathers. I better be ready for the understood inevitable.
Only a handful of people free themselves from Lima's failure curse.
The first periods came by rather quickly. I tried to avoid the always crowded hallways when journeying towards my next class because of the inkling that I might get slushied if they see my visibly unique face. Okay, surely get slushied.
Lunch.
I always eat my vegan lunch in the auditorium so I can practice while I'm eating my BBQ tempeh that my Pop cooked for me.
Although Mckinley's auditorium is inferior to all the ones I've been dreaming of practicing in, it was still quaint.
As I run my versatile fingers through the ivory while singing "The Guilty Ones" from the musical "Spring Awakening", I wanted someone to actually sing it with me since Jonathan Groff and Lea Michele both sang this. I wanted someone to sing it with. Someone who felt the same magnetic rush through their veins as Melchior and Wendla did.
I was completely startled by the off-tune strum of a guitar. I looked around and saw Noah Puckerman – clearly drunk – trying to play the chords to a song I haven't even heard of. It's probably not even a real song anyway.
"You play great, Berry! Girls will definitely be begging for you if you just lose the fairy-ness," he said groggily as he slid off the guitar from himself.
"Noah, I normally don't condone underage drinking and especially drinking here in school, but you seem civil to me when you're under the influence," I smiled then thought back, "For the last time, I'm not gay."
"The hell I'm civil," he paused, "But, you sure do look and sound like one!"
"They say the drunk tell what the sober can't. So, I'll take that as a compliment."
"I'm gonna go now, can't have Figgins suspend me again or I'll get expelled and go to juvy for the third time this year," he walked before turning back, "And don't you dare tell Figgins 'bout this!"
It sounded more of a plea rather than a threat.
By the time the clock stroke 3 o'clock, I was already in the choir room finishing my daily vocalization and I already written a speech about how we should be ready for sectionals even if it's still about three months away.
When almost all of the Glee Club members filed in, I sat at my usual seat – front row and center – with my sheet music on my lap. Knowing that no one in their right mind would sit behind me after the debacle that almost the whole student body saw this morning, I put the papers on the empty seat beside me.
Now the only ones that were missing were Quinn and Sam. Of course, they're late.
Mr. Schuester greeted us and asked how our summers were. His hair not moving even if he's nodding his head after every answer.
I was complacent that he would ask that so I already prepared a slideshow for my amazing summer in New York spent with my friends and family there, but we never got to that because right when Brittany was trying to think of the things she did in summer besides taking her ducks for a swim in here bathtub, the door opened and cue the dream couple.
My slideshow would have been better than their canoodling at the back.
As Mr. Schue was asking us what we would like to perform in Invitationals, I raised my hand enthusiastically. Actually, I already had my hand raised before he even said two words because that's how predictable he is.
Nobody had the determination and willpower like me to actually think of possible songs over the summer so I came up to the front and started my elaborate speech on the songs we should perform in Invitationals while subtly hinting them that we should practice for it today.
Once I finished I saw Finn sleeping and snoring lightly; Puck obviously trying too hard to control his nausea; Kurt, Mercedes, Artie, Tina and Mike looking as monotonous as ever; Santana giving me a smug face; Brittany giving me a confused but sweet smile; and Quinn and Sam sneering at me as if all I said is trash to their ears.
I retreated back to my seat and thought to myself that nothing will ever change here. Nothing has, nothing will.
Once I've parked my silver Mercedes Benz SLR McLaren in our garage, I got my backpack and swiftly climbed up the stairs to rid myself of my clothes because, seriously, they smelled awful and they stuck to my skin like dry glue.
"Hey, Ray, how was your first day," stopped when he saw my stained clothing, "I'm guessing not very well."
"It wasn't, Pop, but it could have gone worse," I smiled, "I think I'm still hung over the flight that's why I forgot my spare clothes."
"Are you sure? If you want, we can talk to Principal Figgins again because –"
I cut him off, "No, Pop, I can handle this. You and Dad always said that I have to learn to live and love whatever came for me." I sighed, "I think I'm just really stressed from the whole first day hype."
"Okay, buddy, just go shower and I'll call you when dinner's ready."
I stopped by the fifth step, "By the way, where's, Dad?"
"He has to work late for the new case he's holding."
"Again? I thought he got home did that yesterday."
"Well, you know his vice-president, Mr. Fabray, isn't really fond of us, right? So, he refuses to help out in the case if your Dad is also assigned on it."
"That's really bigoted of him; we should call the ACLU. I surely think they will act on this quickly."
"We just have to accept that some still frown upon our lifestyle choice. That's how it is."
I started to climb up the stairs again feeling dislike in my gut for that narrow-minded man.
The second day of school wasn't any better than the first, except for the fact that I bought three changes of clothes today: one I put in my bag; one I put in my locker; and the other one I put in my car.
I got slushied twice today. The first one was perpetrated by Sam, the other was done by Quinn.
I have no single scintilla of an idea why they like to douse me with ice-cold corn syrup that sticks everywhere and leaves a bright stain which would need an excessive amount of bleach to get off, all the while ruining the outfit.
Second Glee Club Meeting. Wednesday.
I went to the choir room and, of course, I'm the first one there. I know it's still a half hour before Glee, but let's not digress from the fact that they are all lazy and dependent.
As I was just finishing my warm-ups, Mr. Schue came in and informed me that Glee Club meeting was cancelled for today because of budget cuts, apparently someone – Principal Figgins – underestimated the electric bill this month. Could my case get any worse?
"I'm going to stay a bit longer, Mr. Schue, it that's fine. I'll just make sure to lock the room when I leave," hoping that he would say that it's acceptable that I stay longer.
"Just make sure you finish by 5 o'clock, okay? You know the school counts staying in school longer than 5 o'clock as an offense. Wouldn't want that on your record, right?" He said lightly.
"Will do, Mr. Schuester," I said, bidding him goodbye.
Time passed rather slowly while I was in the choir room. I became completely focused on giving my new Lionel Richie sheet music collection a run.
As I lifted my eyes off the keys, I looked at the wall clock with disbelief. It was already 5:30. I'm dead.
I tried to stay quiet as possible as I peeked from the small glass window of the door, and I saw that no one was in the hallway and the only light that was on was the one at the end of the hallway.
I decided that it would be better if I leave now, that's better than the janitor catching me on the act. So I quickly stashed my sheet music neatly inside my backpack.
Just when I was about to switch off the lights I heard the door creak open harshly and Quinn Fabray glaring daggers at me while she covered my mouth with her hand from behind me because I gasped quite loudly. Damn, those torture workouts do give them strength.
"Don't squeak, Fairy, or the janitor might hear." She sneered with hate.
"Mmpphhh mmphh mpphh –," She felt that I needed to breath so she removed her death grip on my face and just silently told me to shut up. "What are you still doing here, Quean? Oh, I meant 'Quinn'?"
She scoffed at my petty insult; she knew what it meant, not that it was any surprise that she knew the meaning. She is, for a fact, one of the top students in the school aside from me of course.
"Not that it's any of your business but the janitor caught me and Sam in the Biology lab, and he chased us. This is the only room I found which isn't locked," she looked down on me, "I guess it's better to have a record than to be in the same air space with you."
"Like I'm not feeling the same about your intrusion." I retorted back.
Then, the janitors footsteps echoed through the hall so I rapidly turned off the lights and hoped for the best.
Quinn Fabray is currently hiding behind me and holding my shoulders so I guess the "best" came earlier.
/