Story: Redeem Yourself
Rating: T (Safe side)
Word count: 3,123
Pairings: Puckurt, Finchel, Samcedes, Bartie, one-sided Brittana, Tike
A/N: I want to make something clear. This won't be like one of those "HEY WOAH THEY'RE LIKING EACH OTHER BY THE THIRD CHAPTER" fics. No. It's gonna get a little uncomfortable in places, because I'm a boss like that, and when Spring rolls around...well, I don't want to spoil anything. I'm pretty sure my fic will be 20+ chapters. Don't like it? GTFO.
Anywho, thanks for the reviews guys! I love when people send me reviews, so I can see how I'm doing. Not sure how to take the "no comment" ones, though...Hmm.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee.
"Alright, let's get ready for Sectionals, guys!" I'm not listening to Mr. Shue. As much as I have mad props for the dude, sometimes his voice sounds like that bald kid's teacher on TV I see in the morning. He's waving his hands around like he knows what he's doing, but he just wants to sing. Just say that, we'd pay attention.
The Cherrios are in the back corner behind me, and Santana is staring at me. I know she is. She always is staring at me. Brittany will spew off a stupid comment in about five seconds and Quinn is eyeing Finn. Finn's in the front row with Rachel—hot Rachel Berry, who turned me down the last few years because of dumb Finn. Shue's still talking over everyone, and I'm willing to bet five bucks Rachel will interrupt him in a few minutes.
Mike and Tina are in the front row, away from Finn and Rachel (I don't blame them, I wouldn't want to be around them either). Artie is sitting next to Tina, for once—Brittany told everyone that she needed more "leg room" to be around Artie. Feel sorry for the dude; at least she can move her legs. Sam and Mercedes are next to me in the middle row, gossiping as usual. They don't show it, but I know they're hooked up. Come on, anyone with a brain could see that—even Brittany probably sees that.
Kurt's next to Mercedes, on the end. He is always on the end. I move in my seat. This bet blows. I can't hit on chicks, I feel uncomfortable around the dude, and I have to act like I like him. I should just go up to Azimio and tell him that he wins. The dude's not gonna move away from his "I'm right" stance. "Mr. Shue?" I hear Rachel's voice. What did I tell you? The girl can't go one day without trying to lead the club.
"I think what New Directions needs is some songs about new beginnings. Most of us here are going to be graduating this year. We have gone through tough times, drama, and we've almost won at certain competitions!" If she had the ability, she would talk forever. The girl doesn't know when to stop! "I think we should start the week out with songs that deal with new beginnings. We need to put behind everything that has affected us throughout the years here in the Glee Club, and move forward to win at Nationals this year."
Girl had a point.
We all had some kind of drama that plagued us here at McKinley. Rachel and me throwing slushies at her (plus the Finn and Quinn drama that goes on forever); Kurt and his bullying drama along with homosexuality; Mercedes and her boy troubles; Quinn and the baby; Sam and being homeless; Santana and Brittany trying to hide they're in love with each other; Artie being a cripple; Mike and Tina being…Asians? Might be racist, but hear me out. I've had drama—I was caught between Quinn and Finn, and had a baby, for God's sake. No offense, big man.
The Cherrios are talking about how it's a terrible idea. "The point of having problems is to build your strengths. If you didn't have problems, then you wouldn't grow," Quinn has a point too.
"But we all reflect on the same problems over and over again. We need to get over those problems within the Glee Club so we can all build as a team. I'm not saying we should get over every problem in our life, but let us just become a family." Rachel has a bigger point. Santana's even nodding, and she usually doesn't agree with her.
Shue's standing up there, trying to think of how to phrase what he's about to say. "I think you guys have a good point. We all need to become one, and in order to do that, we'll have to start fresh and clean our slates. I think we have our new assignment!" He has a stupid smile on his face, everyone starts clapping. What are we applauding?
"Mr. Shue?" I hear Kurt. His little voice—has it always been that soft? He has his hand raised, looking at him with that determined look he always has on his face. Everyone must be looking at him—what if I'm the only one looking? What if I was the only one to hear him?
I quickly look away, but see everyone's head turned.
0o0
Normally I wouldn't be the one to just come right out to do a number, not at all. However, since it's on topic of "new beginnings" (I wonder if anyone caught on about "new beginnings" being close to "New Directions") I figured I would be the start of that. I've had quite a few new beginnings throughout these last two years—I had to accept myself as being gay and coming out (I kind of regret that, since my hair has been damaged by all those damn slushies), I transferred schools, and now I'm back at McKinley, sometimes afraid for my life.
The bullying is still there. Please, does anyone really think the Neanderthals will stop the tactics they grew up on? I certainly didn't. I've been slammed in the lockers today three times—twice by that fat one and once by Dave. I'm not looking forward to seeing my pale skin covered in bruises this year.
My skin is like my shrine. If it is not perfect, I am in a tizzy. A gay tizzy, and that is not fun for the rest of my friends around me. I have those lotions for a reason in my locker; without them, my body would be distorted in every way imaginable. Then I'd really be a freak, and I just can't handle being a freak this year, too.
Mr. Shue happens to see my hand raised—of course. My voice is not as strong as, say, Santana's or Rachel's, but I don't need to be loud and obnoxious to make my point. I can feel everyone turn to me, and I look around the room. A lot of them have smiles on their faces—except Noah. Why is his head turned? Oh, Santana's trying to talk to him. I knew it.
I lower my hand, since I obviously have the attention of the club now. There is no point letting my fingernail regimens go to waste (yes, I have fingernail routines. It's a weekly process). "If I may, Mr. Shue, I'd like to do a number for the class." He motions me to the front of the room; everyone is still staring.
"Sure, Kurt, but you just got the assignment today. Don't you think you should think through the songs that you want to do?" I shake my head.
"On the contrary. I've been through drama. Granted, we've all been through drama, and I think I could probably relate to Quinn with her baby drama in terms of hard times, but I personally believe I've had it the hardest. It's hard enough getting people to accept my being homosexual," Finn bows his head, as if he knows that statement is directed at him, "but I've come to terms with that. There'll be people out there that will never accept me. There will be people that want me to change, to ruin my day. And perhaps one day will be tougher than the other, but there's always tomorrow."
Mr. Shue sits down in the front row and stares at me. A lot of the smiles have faded and I'm stuck in the front of the room, staring at those that have hurt me the most. "Yes, some things do get to me, but why dwell on drama? So it happened. It's not like any of us in here will bring it up to start anything. Quinn, has anyone come to you to criticize what you did with Beth?" She shakes her head. "What about you, Noah? Finn? Mercedes?" They all shake their heads.
"Where are you going with this, Kurt?" Mr. Shue steps in. I must be rambling—I love the sound of my voice sometimes.
"What I'm trying to say is that if you live with drama your whole life, you'll be stuck in high school every day. A new beginning doesn't start right away; it's only a day away. That is why," I turn to the piano and see Brad shuffling through his piano music; I know he gets what song I want to sing. He places the sheet music on the stand before him and nods at me. "I will be singing the classic song, 'Tomorrow', from the play, Annie," I turn around. Only Rachel knows what the song is from the name, and so does Mr. Shue, but the rest will know.
I breathe in; the piano begins.
0o0
"What about you, Noah?" I wouldn't know what to say if I had to answer that. I just shook my head like the rest of them, because I knew the rest wouldn't know how to either. You can't just put me on the spot like that.
"That is why," he turns around. This is about new beginnings. If I have to make this right, if I have to try and win this bet, I need to think of a song about new beginnings—and fast. He's going to sing something, then others will want to sing. I need to start my work today. "I will be singing the classic song, 'Tomorrow', from the play, Annie." I know the song. I watched the movie when I was a kid. My mom thought the girl looked like a younger version of herself, only Annie wasn't Jewish.
The piano dude starts playing, and Kurt's about the sing. I feel my phone in my pocket go off; anything to distract me from this song will do justice. I look at my screen; Santana? With one touch of the screen, the message comes up. "Were you serious earlier this week?" I turn to look at her, which she's looking straight at Kurt right now. But I know she will hear me.
"Yes," I whisper, "now stop talking about it."
"The sun'll come out tomorrow,
Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow
There'll be sun.
Just thinking about tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow
'Til there's none."
"No," she shakes her head while whispering. She turns to me and whispers again: "No, I don't want to. There's no way that-" We both hear someone "shush" us; I turn and see it's Mr. Shue. I look back at Kurt.
"When I'm stuck with a day that's gray and lonely,
I just stick out my chin and grin and say—"
The dude has some pipes, I'm not gonna lie. I wonder if he's ever done singing lessons. Also, I wonder how he chose a song like that from scratch. I mean, he didn't know the assignment was gonna be about new beginnings—how does he have a music library like that in his head?
"The sun'll come out, tomorrow
So you just gotta hang on 'til tomorrow
Come what may!
Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya, tomorrow!
You're always a day away!"
He's cutting it short. Everyone in the room is smiling, and here I am, just listening to him while I try to think of a song. The last high note, god, I wish everyone could sing like that. There's only him and Rachel that can sing like that, and maybe Mercedes, but she sounds like Whitney Houston when she does it, so no one wants her taking on a solo at any competition.
The music stops. He's frozen in place. Everyone around me is clapping, but I feel the urge to stand up and applaud. I only stand up. "Mr. Shue?" I call out. He turns and sees that I'm standing up, which probably looks weird, but hey, we're the Glee Club. Weird is okay. Kurt's still taking his bows, but sees me standing in the middle of the crowd.
Mr. Shue has that weird look on his face. "Uh, yes Puck?" Those in the front row turn to look at me—of course they look at my seat, but then realize I'm standing. I can't help it. Kurt is still standing up there.
"Kurt's inspired me to do a song too. Mind if I sing to the group?" I start to move down there, but he starts to move away. "Dude, I need your back-up vocals!"
Kurt turns to me. Please don't say no, please don't say no…"My what?" Maybe I offended him. Whoops.
"I need you to follow my lead." I grab my guitar nearby and swing it around my shoulder. He looks around at everyone and then moves closer to the piano. This better work. "I may have caused some drama here and there, and I may have been in drama too. But I'm going through something right now, something I don't know how to solve. Right now, I want to start my tomorrow, as Kurt put it, and I want to express myself."
Kurt is eyeing me. "You aren't serious, are you?" He knows what I'm talking about, and so does Santana. But everyone else is confused. Let them be! I'm confused about this bet! I smirk.
"You ready?" He shakes his head. I start to strum the guitar.
0o0
Oh dear god he's doing Diana Ross. He hasn't even started to play and I know he's going to play Diana Ross. It's the anthem for the closeted that are just about to come out. Then, he's strumming the guitar. There are no words. It is Diana Ross. Of course, it has a rock feel to it, but still. Really, Noah?
"I'm coming out!
I want the world to know,
Got to let it show!"
I look out to the club. They're looking around, too, like it's not happening. And it shouldn't be. There's no way he's a closet gay. There's just…no way.
"There's a new me coming out,
And I just have to live,
And I just want to give-
I'm completely positive!"
He's not serious, right? Finn looks like he's about to yell at him, Santana looks like she's about to snap, Rachel is covering her mouth…this can't be happening. Noah looks over at me, as if I'm supposed to give back-up vocals now. I am speechless, how am I supposed to sing?
"The time has come to break out of this shell-
I have to shout, that I am coming out!"
"Enough!" Thank you, Finn. Noah looks at me, and I can't tell this emotion he's showing. Is he…heartbroken? "Dude, what the hell are you doing?"
Please don't say it, please don't say it…
0o0
Damn Finn and his stupidity. Couldn't he have just let me sing to Kurt? I mean, really, the only way I'm gonna win this bet is by winning his heart, and that's through song. Diana Ross knows how to speak the truth when you have to lie. Or something like that.
"I'm singing, what does it look like I'm doing?" Finn gets up from his chair. Do I have to lay a punch into his stupid skull again? Because I worked out during the summer, and these guns are prepared to punch.
"No you're not! You're obviously just harassing Kurt now! What the hell!" Santana's up from her chair now. I have just stirred up the people with this song! This ought to be fun.
"No he's not! You're just too ignorant to see what he's singing about!" Santana, mad props. She always wants to back me up—even though she wants on me right about now.
I look over at Kurt amongst the chaos (I stopped listening to their yelling about ten seconds ago) and noticed him still staring at me. I don't know if he thinks it's unbelievable or if he thinks it's ridiculous, but someone has to talk. "You got to believe me now," I say to him. Mr. Shue must've been listening in, because he responded to what I told Kurt.
"Believe what, Puck?" Santana and Finn stop fighting, the rest of them have their eyes on the both of us. My heart is racing, I'm probably sweating, but this jacket is catching all of the drops, and I don't know what to say. It's two words, but once it's out, it's out. There's no turning back. Okay, Noah, you got this, you did it before, you said it to Kurt—
"He's gay."
I turn my head to Kurt. Didn't expect that one!
The after school bell rings, but no one wants to leave. Mr. Shue looks at me, then at Kurt, then back at me. I know, you can't keep your eyes off. "U-Uh, okay, kids, tomorrow we'll start with new songs from everyone!" The gossiping begins right after Mr. Shue says that, but they all still have their eyes on us.
I lean toward Kurt. "Hey, thanks for saying that. They kind of surprised me, and-" he interrupts me.
"And you're not ready to let the world know." He turns his head and stares right at me. I feel as though the whole room disappeared right when he looked at me. But he quickly turns to grab his things off his chair. Soon enough, he runs out. I stand there and watch him leave.
Tomorrow's gonna suck.
0o0
I gather my things and run out the door. There are no goodbyes between the two of us; I just need to get out of here. I don't know what to do. Mercedes is waiting outside (with Sam nearby; I knew they were dating) and wants to talk to me about it, but I've known it since homeroom on the first day of classes—it's Thursday, and I am not looking forward to school on a Friday, for the first time in my life.
"Did you know that he was…you know, gay? This is so weird, I can't believe this is happening," she whispers to me, as if it was offensive to say it to me in the first place. I walk with the two of them in silence, still speechless. This can't be right. And if it is, I have too many questions that need answers. Like, how long has he been closeted? How is he gay? How did he know that he was? Why did he sing that song? Why is he telling me all of this?
I look over at Mercedes. "No, not at all."
Songs are: "Tomorrow" from Annie; "I'm Coming Out" by Diana Ross
