AUTHOR'S NOTES: I do not own Glee. HOWEVER, I DO OWN KELSEA RIVER AND HER ENTIRE STORY LINE.

UPDATE 12/31/12: I KNOW THIS STORY WAS ORIGINALLY TAKING PLACE THE SUMMER BEFORE SEASON 4, BUT, AS I'VE STARTED WRITING MORE, I FIND IT EASIER TO MAKE IT SET THE SUMMER BEFORE SEASON 3. Sorry to everyone to already read it, but this is only the prologue, so it shouldn't make too much of a difference :) Thanks for supporting this story, and I'm gonna try to get Chapter 1 up either tonight or in the New Year! (being like tomorrow lol) Thanks so much!

Prologue: It's Not Easy Being Alone

Kelsea's POV

It's not easy being an orphan.

I was born in Ada, Ohio on April 4, 1996, named Kelsea Amelia River. It was a snowy day, a cold day. I was an unexpected child; my parents were both in their early 30's and not expecting to have a child, but I came. I was an only child, like my parents.

My parents. Tim and Aquamarine River. My mother was a native of Hawaii, hence the name Aquamarine. She was a very famous musician on the islands. My father was a Ohio businessman, of Irish descent. He had a strong temper when riled, but most of the time, he was sweet as a teddy bear. He met her while he was on a business trip, and they instantly fell in love. They stayed in Hawaii until they had me, and then moved to Ohio because of a huge job opportunity for Daddy.

I have hardly any memories of Hawaii, since I only lived there until I was two. The only things I remember clearly were the way the ocean sounded, and my mother's music-playing throughout the day. She always was playing some instrument, whether it be piano, guitar, ukulele, anything. She could play anything, and she taught me all of those instruments as well.

But Ohio was nice. I only saw Daddy at night, since he had work all day, but that was okay. Me and Mama had school anyway. Mama took a position at my elementary school as a music teacher, and stayed there even after I graduated and went to junior high. We went back to Hawaii every summer, visiting Mama's family.

Except this summer.

This summer, Daddy had a business meeting in London for his company, and so he took Mama along with him. I couldn't come along, so I stayed at home alone. I was fifteen at the time, so I was okay by myself. I called Mama and Daddy every night, catching up with them and making sure they were okay, and asking them how London was.

They were gone for a month. Sure, that was a long time to be alone, but it wasn't as bad as you would think. I had friends come over sometimes, friends of my father's would come over for a couple days, so sometimes I wasn't totally alone. That, and I had my mother's ukulele. She gave it to me before she left, telling me to guard it for her and play it while she was gone. And I did, every night.

Until the one night. The one night that changed everything.

Mama and Daddy were supposed to be back on the sixteenth of July. But it was July 22nd, and they still weren't back.

I told myself that they must've gotten delayed somehow. Maybe they had missed their flight? Maybe conditions were bad in London? Maybe they were having technical problems?

But I got a phone call that night, telling me exactly what had gone wrong.

It was the FTA, calling to tell me that both my parents were dead. Apparently, the plane had a malfunction with the engine while going over the Atlantic Ocean, and the engine blew up, causing the plane to spiral into the ocean.

The accident wasn't merciful. All passengers, crew, and both pilots were all killed, among them my parents. It took them four days to find their bodies, sunk into the confines of the ocean. They said they would fly their bodies to Ohio as soon as possible for proper burial.

Once I had received the news, I put the phone down, and immediately started crying. Scratch that, bawling. My heart was torn, broken, destroyed. Both my parents, dead. I just couldn't wrap my head around it.

For days after the call I just wandered around the house aimlessly, crying, sobbing, calling out for Mama and Daddy. I sat in my room at night, my face red, eyes swollen, unable to sleep, just finger-picking the ukulele until my fingers bled.

Once everyone had found out the news (because it was on TV, of course), they all came over daily to pay their respects and make sure I was okay. I kept my head up high during those visits, masquerading myself to look grim but not insane like I really was until they went away. Many of my father's friends offered me their homes, a safe haven, but I turned them down, telling them I was fine and that I'd be soon moving in with my grandparents.
Of course, that was a lie. Both of my sets of grandparents were dead. I had no one. No one at all.

So, after there were no more visitors, and I held a funeral for my parents, I simply went back to wandering around the house. Every day, just wandering, looking at all of the photographs, all the memories. And then the blank frames, the frames that would never be filled. Never could be filled.
By the end of July, I was really grief-filled. I couldn't stand the house any longer; it all reminded me of Mama and Daddy, and I couldn't take it. I needed to go.

So, on the windy day of July 30th, I packed a big suitcase on wheels with all the belongings I could fit. I packed clothes, toiletries, my favorite books, food and water, all of the money left in the house (fifty dollars and ninety-six cents to be exact; the rest of it was in the bank which i couldn't get to), my iPod (with a solar charger that Daddy made), a pillow and blanket, and a photograph of me, Mama, and Daddy. Finally, I put Mama's ukulele in the backpack that Mama custom-fitted for it, and put it on my back. I was ready.

And my destination? Well, at first I had no clue. I just started walking, anywhere to get away from Ada. But then, a day later, I saw a sign that said, "Welcome to Lima, Ohio". At first, I laughed, because that's what Mama always called Daddy when he was being boring and dull. She'd look him in the eye and say, "Richard River, you are such a Lima bean. You're boring, and plain as a pickle. Put some spring in your step." We'd all just laugh, and Daddy would hug her and call her a bossy-pants.

I sink at the memory, but know in my heart that Lima must be the place for me. So I kept walking into the hustling town.

I tried getting into a hotel, but since I only had fifty dollars (and ninety-six cents), I knew it would only get me a couple nights, and then I wouldn't have enough money for food and water, the things that I would really need. I had learned this in survival class my freshman year at Ada High School, and remembered that I needed to ration and save as much as I could.

So I lived on the streets of Lima, Ohio. I lived next to a restaurant called Breadstix, where the manager was nice and let me use the bathrooms every morning and night. I washed my hair in the sink, and used a bucket to wash the rest of me with. Sure, it wasn't the most ideal of situations, but it worked for survival.

In terms of food, I was good with what I had for the first two weeks of living on the streets. Then, I resorted to going to the local market for food. And then...once the money ran out...

I started playing my ukulele for money.

I knew a lot of songs, since Mama was a music teacher. I knew everything from country music to even some rap. I decided to play every two hours, and money actually came pretty steadily. People never expected a ukulele player, and especially one that could play such a wide range of songs.

They also loved my voice, like at my old school.

At my old high school, I had been a star in the making, apparently. After giving a little taste of Hawaiian culture by playing my uke in my World History class, my teacher Mrs. Julianno had suggested I join the school Glee Club. Since I had nothing else to do, and Mama liked the idea, I joined. It was actually pretty fun; even though our rehearsals were rigorous and tiring, we were a good group.

And they had given me a solo, as a freshman.

Mr. Easton, our director, had come up to me, singled me out one day during rehearsal, and said, "Kelsea, I want you to sing 'Hey There Delilah' by The Plain White T's for Sectionals."

I looked at him, stunned for a moment, and then said softly, "By myself?"

He laughed. "Well, you and your ukulele, with background by the Harmonics," he says. "I feel like you're our best singer, and we'll need that to beat McKinley. They're amazing; they have Rachel Berry. But I think...I think you could out sing her."

I gasped. Beating the New Directions? Being better than the Rachel Berry?! He had to be kidding. Sure, I knew I was good, but...better than the next Barbra Streisand? Everyone in our section of Ohio knew of her. She was like a Glee Club goddess!

He saw my face and grinned. "I'm not kidding, Kelsea River. Sure, you aren't a Broadway babe like her, but you're special. You're amazing, and you can play like a pro. You've got something that she doesn't." He then pointed at my ukulele.

And so, that year at Sectionals, I sang "Hey There Delilah" by myself after our group number of "Do You Believe In Magic?". The crowd went wild, and I remember feeling so amazing, so loved...and when I looked out in the audience, I saw none other than Rachel Barbra Berry standing on her feet, giving me, Kelsea River, a standing ovation.

It would be an understatement to say I was starstruck.

Unfortunately, we still lost to New Directions, but that was okay. We still got second, which wasn't bad.

And it definitely wasn't bad when Rachel came up to me after the competition.

I was getting ready to leave, packing my ukulele up when she came up to me. I looked up and almost gasped on the spot.

She smiled and said, "Hey, you're that girl that sang 'Hey There Delilah' for the Ada Harmonics, right?" I stood up and nodded at the brunette. She goes on and shakes my hand. "You did so well. You must be an alto, right? Or maybe a tenor? Or everything? And you're playing, well, it's astounding! I could never play an instrument that well, but I have my voice...so, what's your name?"

I smiled a little. "I'm Kelsea River. Congrats on winning, by the way."

She smiled again. "That's a beautiful name. Well, great job. And don't worry about losing-you guys did amazing, and Glee Club is way more than competition." She gave me a hug, and then was on her way.

I never forgot that experience; the rush of performing, of being praised, recognized. I fed off it, loving it so much that I knew it's what I wanted to do. So, doing shows on the street next to Breadstix. Sure wasn't the same as a stage, but it helped ease my grieving heart.

But it still wasn't easy.

Money was still tight, and it wasn't like before. I missed my old life, my friends, and above all else, my parents. Every night when I slept, I dreamt that my life on the street was just a really bad nightmare, that Mama would shake me awake and tell me that breakfast was ready.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a dream.

But this dream had to get better someday, right?