Second chapter. The story is coming along just fine... I think...
I should clarify that some of the couples here might not be stated so clearly, because it's mostly a Klaine fanfic, but my shippings are Finchel, Sam&Quinn, Puck&Lauren, Tike, Bartie, and Wemma (with a hopeful Brittana). It should be obvious in the coming chapters, tho.
I also really hope that you like the new character. She means no harm, just a few chuckles.
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, names, places, etc. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox.
Blackened Blue Eyes
-by HappyValentina
Meanwhile, there was a new substitute teacher in William McKinley High School.
Her name was Melanie Rococo. She walked into the building, cigarette in hand and and a look of uncertainty on her face. She was decked in an oversized striped t-shirt, cut off shorts, black Doc Martens and sunglasses. Not exactly how most teachers dressed; no one would think she was a teacher, and that was the point. It was embarrassing enough that she would, at 22, be back in her hometown, teaching in her old high school. If she could fool most people into thinking that she was just another student, then the whole experience would be a little less mortifying.
"Bonjour, j'e suis Melanie Rococo, j'e suis votre nouveau professeur de francais."
She looked around at the disinterested faces of her students. Most of them just stared at her in confusion.
"Yes, I know. But I am the teacher," she said, taking a drag from her cigarette. "Miss Moreau is going to be away for a while, so I'll be taking over her French lessons until her return."
"What happened to her?" one girl asked.
"Did coach Sylvester push her down a flight of stairs or something?" a boy joked.
"Or poison her?" another one added.
"Or mess with her car breaks?"
The teacher stared blankly at them. "No, she's getting married and she's going on her honeymoon," she replied. "Wow, I'm really looking forward to meeting coach Sylvester now. Thanks, kids," she added.
"By the way, you can't smoke in here, Miss Rococo," an obnoxious girl said, pointing to a no-smoking sign next to a fire extinguisher near the door.
Melanie took one last drag from her cigarette, then proceeded to put it out on the girl's desk. "Sorry," she said. The girl looked appalled but decided to shut her mouth. Apparently Miss Rococo was more no-nonsense than she expected.
First period wasn't so bad, but it was amazing how apathetic some of these kids were. And it made Melanie realize she wasn't cut out for teaching. She just couldn't care enough. What's the point of teaching these kids to speak french when they can barely speak english properly? She wished that she could make them understand how brilliant it is to learn a foreign language, to open the mind to so many experiences, new ways of seeing things.
But right now, all she wanted was to get through the next two periods and take a cigarette break. This was starting to get on her nerves. Coming back to McKinley was a really bad decision. But for now, there was no turning back.
She stepped out into the sunlight. The bleachers were full of students lounging around and playing music. She glanced around and did a double-take.
Standing near the top of the bleachers was a boy with perfectly coifed hair, a blue jacket, and skintight jeans that disappeared inside a pair of designer boots. He laughed with a dark-haired boy, dressed in a red sweater and a striped shirt underneath, both looking very chummy.
She took off her sunglasses and raised an eyebrow, and a smirk appeared at the corners of her lips. She shuffled over to the railing, leaned against it provocatively, stuck her chest out, and smiled seductively at the pair.
"Bonjour, monsieur Hummel," she breathed hoarsely.
The boy turned and saw her, and stared. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open.
"Melrose?"
"C'est moi."
"OH MY GOD!"
Melrose dropped the act as he pulled her into a hug and laughed.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were living the glamorous parisian life," he asked.
"I was, but I needed a dosage of home. This will always be my home. And I missed you, you're my best friend and my only family," she said with a shrug, as if not wanting to sound too sentimental.
Kurt turned to the dark-haired boy. "I'm sorry, this is my boyfriend, Blaine. Blaine, this is my best friend forever, Melrose. You remember I told you about her."
"Nice to finally meet you," Blaine shook her hand. Melrose looked at him from head to toe and smiled.
"I'll say... mon Dieu, Kurt, I know you told me your boyfriend was cute, but that's kind of an understatement, don't you think?"
Blaine tried not to blush. "Thank you. Did he mention that my boyfriend is very cute too?" is all he could say before he burst out laughing. It was Kurt's turn to blush.
"You guys are adorable. Now stop it," Melrose said, shaking her head. "You might just give me a toothache."
"Seriously, what are you doing here?"
"Well, I'm your new french teacher."
Kurt's eyes widened again. "Are you serious?"
"I know, it's a bit weird, isn't it?" she said, and turned to Blaine. "I'm actually the one who taught him french years ago, when we were neighbors."
They sat down at the bleachers, and Kurt and Melrose told Blaine everything about meeting when they were nine and fifteen; how they met not long after Kurt's mom passed away; how Kurt was teased a lot by the other kids in the neighborhood, until a french girl named Melanie appeared, with combat boots and recreational smoking, kicking them all to the ground for messing with someone so defenseless; how Kurt used to make macaroons for the strange girl who saved him from the bullies and how the girl was fascinated by this cute little kid with fabulous style and excellent cooking skills who was all alone all the time.
Melrose didn't have any friends at the time either, and she spent most of her time by herself too. She attended Carmel High at the time, and she hated it there, the students were like sheep, and she just didn't fit in. Back home, her parents neglected her, and when they divorced and her father disappeared, she just thought 'one down, one to go', because she couldn't wait for the day she wouldn't have to deal with either of them ever again. But at least she would have Kurt.
They baked together, they listened to music together. Kurt taught her about musical theater and skin care, and Melrose taught him to speak french and greet people with two kisses. They had weird tea parties in Kurt's garden, with real tea and biscuits, and wearing weird hats and headdresses, and they would dance around and make weird videos on Melrose's camcorder. And Burt would watch them, and roll his eyes at this girl's antics, but at the same time he liked her and how she became Kurt's friend when he most needed one.
They became her surrogate family. She would do anything to stay away from her own house, and she found a home with this little boy. She was always there to defend him from the bullies, and he was always there to relieve her from her solitude.
"And Kurt gave me the name Melrose."
"Oh, I thought that was your real name," Blaine said.
"No, he just put together Melanie Rose. He said that I needed a proper artistic name for when I became famous and conquered the world," Melrose explained, and pinched one of Kurt's cheeks affectionately.
"Meanwhile, she just calls me 'Fluffy', which I can never use as my artistic name and she still won't come up with anything better," Kurt shook his head disapprovingly.
"I wasn't gonna bring that up because I thought I might embarrass you in front of your boyfriend, but since you already have..." she trailed off and smiled. "I missed you, Fluffy," she added, pulling him into a hug. He kissed her on the cheek.
"I missed you too."
Will Schuester grabbed his lunch bag and headed for his usual table in the teacher's lounge, where Shannon Beiste was already sitting.
"How's the new school year been treating you so far?" Beiste asked as soon as he sat down.
"I'll get back to you on that one. Still three periods to go, and I'm holding Glee club auditions today. I'm bracing myself for a lot of backlash from Rachel Berry. She hates newcomers," he answered, pulling out his sandwich. He was about to take a bit, when a redheaded girl walked in, carrying a deli bag. She looked around for a bit, and when she spotted him looking at her, she headed for his table.
"May I sit here?" she asked with a friendly smile. Beiste politely said she could, while Will only continued to stare.
"I'm Melanie Rococo. I'm a substitute teacher. I was hired to teach Miss Moreau's french class," the girl said, pulling out a salad.
"I'm Shannon Beiste, I'm the football coach."
"Beiste, that's french, isn't it?"
"Yes," Beiste said with a smile.
"Nice to meet you. And you are?" the girl turned to Will.
Will put down his sandwich. "You're a teacher?" he asked, disbelieving.
The girl rolled her eyes. "I know."
"How old are you?"
The girl glared at him. "How old are you?"
Will shook his head. "I'm sorry, it's just... you look very young."
"I get it," the girl said defensively. "I am young, but I'm old enough to be a teacher at a public school. Look, it's embarrassing enough as it is, so please don't bring it up again or I'll find a way to publicly humiliate you in some form, cuz that's how it's done at public schools."
She popped the top of her salad open and started eating. Beiste had to hide her grin behind her fork. Will looked down at his hands in shame.
"I'm so sorry. I just... I didn't even know we were having a new teacher, and I guessed it surprised me that it was you."
The girl said nothing.
"I'm Will Schuester, I'm the Spanish teacher and the director of the Glee club," Will held out his hand. She looked at it and grudgingly shook it. Then she turned back to her salad, and an awkward silence fell on the table. Beiste cleared her throat.
"Why did you say it was embarrassing enough?" she asked.
Melrose sighed. "Because I used to go here, as recent as six years ago."
"Six years? That makes you twenty-two, right?" Will said.
"Will you quit it with the age thing? Yes, I'm a 22-year-old substitute teacher working back at my old school. I get it, 'oh what has become of my life' and all that. I had a life until recently. I came back here to remind myself that I can be anything I want, and this is just a phase that I'm going through. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm going through a bit of a crisis, and I guess if I'm going to have a quarter-life crisis, I might as well go home and ride it out here. And the only reason I accepted this job is because my best friend goes here. I thought it would be nice to have him close by again."
"Your best friend?"
"He's a student. His name's Kurt Hummel."
"Kurt's your best friend? He's one of my students, and he's in my Glee club."
"Oh good, so you know him. Congratulations. I hope you're good to him."
"Well, he is one of my best students. And a great singer, too."
"Really? Well, he tells me that he barely gets a chance at solos. That he even left the school because of it."
Will stopped chewing and frowned indignant. "'As noth thrue," he said through a mouthful of sandwich.
"I'm kidding. I know why he left. But he tells me everything. And if I hear about you giving him a hard time, I'll be doing that public humiliating thing I told you about earlier."
Will swallowed and tried not to laugh. This girl was feisty.
"So how did you two meet?" he asked.
"We were neighbors back when he was nine, and he got bullied a lot by the idiots in our neighborhood, and I kicked their asses. I spent most of my time with Kurt and his dad, they were more of a family to me than my own family. Then I graduated from here, and I packed up and left. I lived in New York for a while, and lately I've been in Europe. I was living in Paris until recently, but I always kept in touch with Kurt. I hadn't seen him in years, tho, so it's really nice to be back."
"So you're a teacher?" Beiste asked.
"I'm a writer, actually. And a part-time actress and musician. And I do freelance photography. Sometimes I paint."
"Is that all?" Will asked with a chuckle. "And is your real name Rococo? Or is that just an artistic name?"
Melrose laughed. "Melanie Rococo is kind of my identity. Rococo is the first syllables of my middle name and both my last names. My father's surname is Covey, and my mother is Comte. Since I didn't feel like I was attached to either one of my parents at all, I decided to build my own from the pieces left of theirs. But Kurt has called me Melrose ever since we met, and so I consider that one my true artistic name."
She munched on another forkful of lettuce and looked at them.
"Is the interrogation over?"
Will and Beiste exchanged looks and shrugged. "For now," Will said. "Welcome to McKinley. Beware of the cheerleading coach in the red tracksuit," he pointed across the room. Sue Sylvester was leaning against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee, and looking intently at Will's table.
"Is that the famous coach Sylvester?" Melrose asked, looking at her and giving her a wave and a smile. Sue didn't move, but continued to stare menacingly. "She seems lovely."
"I think she'll be fine," Beiste said and continued eating. Will finished his sandwich and nodded tentatively. He did hope so. Melrose somewhat reminded him of another substitute teacher, and he thought it would be fun to have her around. As long as Sue Sylvester didn't somehow scare her away.
The first two weeks of school were basically going back to normal. No one auditioned for the Glee club except Blaine, and he was almost an instant abductee. Rachel wasn't too happy about it, though. He was, after all, a really good singer.
Will regularly had lunch with Emma, Melrose and Beiste, and he kept asking them for suggestions for what to do differently this year with the Glee club. Melrose only said she hoped he was a better teacher than creepy Mr. Ryerson.
"Wait, you mean you were in Glee club?" Will asked.
"For a while. But that guy made me leave, he's such a freak. Though I have to admit, being in Glee club here was more uplifting than in Carmel High."
"You were in Vocal Adrenaline?" Will's eyes widened.
"I called them Vocal Androids. They're just a bunch of fabricated choir kids with too much energy and not enough imagination," Melrose scoffed. "I once heard them butcher Queen's 'Don't stop me now', I swear I could hear Freddy Mercury grinding his nails against the walls of his coffin."
"Well, they've creamed us in the past, so I wouldn't underestimate the power of putting on a good show, even if they just act like robots."
"But you guys are good now, aren't you? Kurt told me about last year's Regionals competition, how you beat the Dalton Warblers when he and Blaine were there. He said you were amazing."
"Well, we were, but we're still growing," Will said, trying to sound modest. His eyes lit up. "Do you want to come see?"
Emma nearly dropped her grapes.
"What for?" Melrose asked, looking like he had just offered her worms for dessert.
"You've been in Glee club, you know what it's about. You can give us pointers, give us a different perspective. You might give us wisdom that you learned from being in Vocal Adrenaline, and perhaps we could use it to beat them this year."
"Oh, like I have nothing better to do with my afternoons than sit through a class I don't even teach?"
Will looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I guess it does sound kind of boring."
"Wait, I didn't say no," Melrose added quickly, holding a finger up. "Cuz, unfortunately, I have nothing better to do with my afternoons. Oh! I'll hang out with Kurt!" She sat up excitedly.
Emma looked at Will for a moment, at him smiling at the new teacher. She had seen that look before. Trying not to think too much about it, she looked back down at her grapes and popped a freshly-cleaned one into her mouth.
Another week started. The kids were falling into step with their classes and Glee club.
It wasn't long before Blaine got his very first slushy facial.
Like winning Nationals had done absolutely nothing for their reputation, their level of popularity, or anything positive at all, their newest member had to endure the tradition of terrorizing Glee club members.
Or maybe it was because he was gay. Or both.
"Oh no, Blaine!" Quinn exclaimed when she and the rest of the group walked into the choir room that afternoon, and saw Kurt dabbing at the red stains on his neck with moist cloths.
"It's fine. Kurt washed most of it out already. But my clothes are all sticky," Blaine said, gesturing to his now cherry-pink dyed white shirt.
"Who was it?" Sam asked. Blaine hesitated for a moment, glancing at Kurt. Kurt didn't meet his eyes.
"Karofsky," he finally said. Puck clapped his hands on his thighs and huffed.
"Then it's not only because you're in Glee club now, but also because you're gay. I say we tell Principal Figgins," he said.
"Yeah, we totally should," Santana echoed.
"It's fine, guys. He's just..." Blaine trailed off. "You guys say this happens all the time, especially to the new ones. It was bound to happen, whether Karofsky did it or not."
"I never got slushied," Lauren said.
"I still say we should do something, tell someone. I mean, he's got a history of homophobia," Rachel pointed out.
"If he threatened to kill Kurt once, he could very well do it to you too," Finn added.
"I don't think that's the case here," Blaine said simply, hoping that would finalize the subject.
"Blaine, I can't believe you're defending him," Rachel retorted.
"I'm not defending him. I just don't think it's necessary."
"Well, Kurt found it necessary to transfer schools last year. I'd say that's a pretty big alarm."
"It's just a slushy, Rachel," Blaine said, starting to get angry.
"It's only the beginning, Blaine."
"Rachel, would you just let it go?"
Rachel, and everyone stared at Kurt in shock. He just sighed and went to put the used moist cloths in the bin. "I for one would appreciate a year without drama. Can we just cool off in the retaliation?"
"Is everything okay?" Will Schuester asked, coming into the classroom, followed by Melrose.
"Everything is fine," Kurt said, returning to his seat.
"What happened to you?" Melrose asked, looking at Blaine up and down.
"Nothing, it was just a slushy," he replied.
"Oh Dieu, I remember those," she said.
"You used to get slushied?" Will asked.
"I was in Glee club, wasn't I?"
"You were in this Glee club?" Artie asked.
"Six years ago, when it truly sucked. Got slushied almost every week."
"Yikes."
"It's fine. After every slushy, I made sure to put generous amounts of superglue on all my bullies' locker dials. Hurts like a bitch. I got even every day, and they didn't even know the culprit," Melrose said, looking like she was reminiscing something pleasant.
"Wow, that's evil," Mercedes said.
"Oh, I sometimes put it on the seats in class. I once superglued half the football team to the bench." She grinned. "Needless to say, they lost."
"Could you join Glee club? We could use you," Mike said with a wry smile.
"Ha, I'd love to, but I'm a teacher. I'm just here to give you pointers," Melrose replied, taking a seat beside Kurt. "Of all kinds," she added, and rubbed her hands like a cartoon villain.
"Easy, Joker, you're not teaching my students to be pranksters," Will warned.
"It's not pranks, it's revenge, Mr. Schue," Puck said. "It's putting an end to this."
"End? Oh, I still kept getting slushied. I just didn't mind so much anymore," Melrose clarified. "It was the look on their faces when they realized they had to either take off their pants or walk out of the classroom with a desk stuck to their asses." She grinned again.
"In any case, that's not going to improve anything," Will said.
"Well, we've tried everything," Rachel said, "from talking to intimidating, to using brute force, as Sam's eye might remember," she gestured to the blond football player, "we even tried joining the Glee club with the football team, and none of that worked."
"Wow, that's a lousy idea. Who came up with that?" Melrose asked. Will shot her a look.
"The point is, we're willing to try anything. Giving them a taste of their own medicine might just be it," Rachel finished.
"Guys, I think that's the worst idea," Will started, and he pointedly looked at Melrose. "You'd be playing at their own game. You'd become bullies yourselves. That's not the way it's supposed to go."
"Well, someone's going to reach a boiling point someday and it's going to be even more dangerous," Puck said. "You've heard of school shootings, haven't you? I'm not saying it would be one of us, but we're not the only ones who get picked on here at McKinley. Some kid with no friends might decide he's had enough and go through his veteran grandfather's arsenal. If we have a chance to stop it, then we should."
"It's not the way," Will insisted. "We can take this up with Principal Figgins, and we can work something out. For now, could we focus on New Directions? Miss Rococo here used to be in Vocal Adrenaline too, and she can share some insights with us, so we can bring our A game to the next competition..."
While Will continued to talk, Melrose turned to Kurt and Blaine, who looked forlorn. "I want details, later, please," she said seriously. Kurt looked at Blaine, and they both nodded.
At the end of the day, the members of New Directions spread out in the parking lot, each walking to their cars or leaving with someone. Finn kissed Rachel goodbye and ran ahead of Kurt toward the black Lincoln Navigator.
"Finn, I'm driving. You might kill another mailman."
"I did not kill the mailman!"
"Whatever, I have the keys," Kurt said, dangling the keys. Finn slowed down in resignation, and Blaine snickered.
"I'm sorry you got slushied," Kurt said.
"It's fine. I think I was mentally prepared for it already, thanks to you. So it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I'll see you tomorrow," Blaine said, and pulled Kurt into a kiss. It was brief, but sweet, and they were both suddenly in a much better mood.
"Get a room," Melrose said with a smile, passing them toward her own car. "Bye, boys."
They both waved as she back out or her parking space and drove away.
"Come on, Kurt, I'm hungry!" Finn shouted, leaning against the car like an anxious little kid.
Blaine walked to his own car, and Kurt watched him, until he was sure he was safely in. It was a habit he had developed. He then walked to his car, and he and Finn headed home.
Dave, who had a habit of staying later at the gym lifting weights, on afternoons when there was no football training, headed for his own car finally, after staying in the shadow of the building until everyone was gone.
Feeling good about this. Hope you're enjoying this so far.
I promise this fic has a point.
Thanks for reading.
-Vale
