A/N: Thank you to each and every person who reviewed, favorited, and put this story on alert. I'm so glad to know people are enjoying it. Happy reading!
Disclaimer: Not my show, not my idea (See Prologue).
Chapter Two (AKA "Hell-O, Madonna Part 2")
Despite her best efforts, things between Rachel and her mother had gotten undeniably weird. For the second night in a row, they tip-toed around each other – literally and figuratively – trying to keep things light and amicable. But there were only so many superficial conversation topics to cover, and whenever talk strayed too close to glee or music or school, uncomfortable silences were never far behind. And silence was something Rachel did not handle well.
After a short and excruciatingly quiet dinner, Rachel raced through cleaning the dishes – singing to herself to fill the silence – then mumbled something about homework and fled upstairs. She hated feeling trapped, caged, even if it was in her own bedroom and self-imposed. But even that was better than forcing awkward conversation just to watch that hurt expression flit across her mom's face. The guilt of knowing she had been the one to put it there was suffocating.
If only to escape the tension, Rachel couldn't get to school fast enough the next morning. Truth be told, now that she had a strategy, she was excited to put "The Plan" into motion. She had prepared a solo guaranteed to charm even the most skeptical member of New Directions. Of course, she had a full day of classes to survive first.
It took her until fifth period to realize that Finn Hudson was avoiding her. Even with trying to navigate her schedule, her books, and a new set of hallways on her first full day – not to mention the challenge of concentrating at all with Madonna's greatest hits inexplicably playing on a loop through the intercoms – she still managed to keep an eye on Finn's locker between classes. After all, she couldn't very well get to know him if they never had a conversation. Twice she thought she saw his dark hair towering over everyone else at the end of the hall, but then just as suddenly it disappeared through a door or around a corner. She was beginning to give up hope that they would have any classes together, either. She was placed mostly in advanced and honors courses, and Finn… well, he hadbeen utterly mesmerized by a bird's nest when she first met him.
She passed just about every other person from glee over the course of the day, usually in twos and threes, but always together. She'd made a point during that first rehearsal to memorize their names and faces, filing away as much information about their vocal abilities as she could. It was disheartening that her friendly grins were constantly met with expressions of baffled confusion – or, in the case of that one cheerleader Santana, repulsion (Hello, Andrea Cohen) – but she reasoned that they simply didn't know what to make of her yet.
It was beginning to feel like her first day would never be over when she returned to her locker just before lunch. She placed the books in her hands on top of the others – she really needed to decorate the inside of her door; pastel colors, perhaps? – and was reaching for her homemade vegan lunch when she happened to glance down the hall. Surprisingly, Finn was digging inside his own locker, a red McKinley letterman jacket thrown over one shoulder. (He was a jock? Well, that explained a lot.) She abandoned her lunch for the moment and walked quickly towards him.
"Finn," she called pleasantly.
He froze. That sounded like… Crap. He threw his jacket inside the locker and slammed it shut, ready to take off in the other direction. He put on the brakes just in time to avoid tripping over some dude who was kneeling to get to a bottom locker, but before he could figure out another escape route, Rachel was in front of him, arms crossed.
"Uhhh hi," he said, looking everywhere but her face. Why was it always the short chicks that had crazy death glares?
"Hello…" she said, talking super slowly, and he knew she knew he'd been avoiding her all day. Busted.
"What's up?" he tried again, though it sounded lame even to him.
She didn't seem to notice, 'cause she immediately smiled. "Well, actually I'm glad I caught you, Finn. I was hoping we could work together on a project for glee."
Work together? Quinn would kill him if she caught him even talking to her. "Can't. I'm busy."
He tried to step around her, but she stepped with him. "I didn't suggest a time," she pointed out, and her smile faltered just a little.
"Oh. Well, I just have a lot of stuff going on, and I doubt the rest of the club would be cool with it so –"
"But that's exactly why I wanted to do it. You're the captain. I thought if we performed together they might be willing to put that unfortunate misunderstanding behind us."
He snorted. Misunderstanding.
She must have guessed exactly what that snort meant because suddenly her jaw dropped open, her next words so soft that if he didn't know better he'd swear she sounded hurt. "You don't believe me." And then, so fast it gave him whiplash, she looked pissed. "Do you honestly still think I was trying to sabotage you with Dakota Stanley?"
Duh! "He cut half the club right off the bat. He tried to make everyone else go on diets or get plastic surgery!" He couldn't help getting annoyed. Apparently they were having this conversation whether he wanted to or not. "You could have at least warned us."
"I thought you knew!" she shouted back at him. "He has a reputation for ruthlessly whittling a team down to its most effective elements. I thought that's what you wanted when you came looking for him."
He wanted to tell her that that was crazy, but she was looking at him all wide-eyed and desperate, and damnit he believed her. Hiring Dakota Stanley had been Quinn's idea, and it would be like her to overlook his rep as an insane hardass. (She spent a lot of her time around Sue Sylvester these days.)
"If you're not a spy then why are you here?" he asked more softly, though the challenging tone in his voice was still there.
She shook her head slightly, eyes dropping to her shoes. "I just… needed to start over."
"Look, Rachel…" he began hesitantly, and she looked up at him again.
He never did figure out what he was going to say next. Before he could even begin to form the words, Rachel had literally turned blue. What the – ?
Another slushie flew in right after the first, soaking Rachel from the top of her head to her collarbone.
"Welcome to McKinley, loser!" Azimio shouted, laughing as he and Karofsky dropped the now-empty cups and high-fived each other. Finn stared after them over one shoulder as they left and saw Quinn standing off to the side, watching. She gave him a slow, knowing smirk and turned down another hallway.
Shit.
He turned back around to look at Rachel. She hadn't moved, her mouth open and her eyes squeezed shut as the slushie dripped down the front of her shirt. Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed one of her arms, putting his other hand on her back to steer her quickly down the hall. The lunch crowd parted, pointing as they passed, but he barely noticed. He found the nearest bathroom and pushed her gently through the door, hoping she could get to the sink on her own. Being seen with a slushie victim was as good as wearing a target on your back, but he was used to that. If he got caught coming out of a girl's bathroom… he might as well start looking to transfer himself.
Rachel didn't know how she navigated the unfamiliar bathroom with her eyes closed, but somehow she felt her way to a sink and turned the hot water tap on full blast. She furiously splashed handful after handful of water onto her face to rinse the sticky syrup and ice out of her eyes. When she eventually lifted up to survey the damage in the mirror, she realized she was already crying.
She had never felt so humiliated, not even when she'd tripped and nearly plummeted off the stage at her fifth grade tap recital. It was hard to feel unflappable when she couldn't stop shivering from the ice in her hair, but she would not give those dim-witted jocks the satisfaction of shaking her confidence. She forced herself to focus instead on scrubbing every sticky inch of her neck.
It was a small consolation that the bathroom stayed empty; no one got to witness her shame, though she'd had plenty of an audience for the main event in the hallway. Unfortunately, that included Finn Hudson. He'd never allow himself to be seen with her now.
She threw her hair forward to wash out the worst of the thick syrup, resigning herself to a braid the rest of the day since she couldn't very well dry her hair under the hand blowers. Luckily, the blue dye didn't show so much against her forest green sweater, but she would have to scrub the neckline the moment she got home.
Finally, Rachel had to accept that her appearance was as good as it was going to get without a real shower. She practiced her strong, composed grin in front of the mirror until her lower lip stopped trembling and marched purposefully towards the hall. She yanked the door open, determined to show those unimaginative Neanderthals that Rachel Berry wasn't so easily broken, but instead she collided hard with something blocking the doorway… Or someone, apparently.
"Excuse me, I didn't – Finn?"
How did he seem to get taller every time she saw him?
He backed up to let her out into the nearly empty hall, his hands awkwardly in his pockets. "Sorry, I was… uhh… telling people the toilets had overflowed." She involuntarily grimaced, and a corner of his mouth pulled up in a half-smile. "Happens more often than you'd think."
She couldn't help but smile back gratefully. So maybe it wasn't luck that no one walked in on her after all. She glanced at the clock at the end of the hall – most people must still be in the cafeteria. Did he stand there the whole lunch period?
"The cherry one is the worst to get out of your clothes," he said conversationally. "At least, my mom is always complaining about it."
She frowned. "They did this to you, too? I don't understand… aren't you on the football team with those guys?"
"Quarterback, actually, but just about everyone in glee gets slushied." He shrugged. "You get used to it. Most of the girls keep an extra set of clothes in their locker."
"They did this because of glee?" Rachel didn't even try to mask her shock. Vocal Adrenaline was the epitome of cool at Carmel. She was the social outcast of the group, and even then the rest of the student body had never dared to try anything. The casual way Finn said it tugged at her heartstrings: "slushied"… like this happened everyday.
"We're a new team," he said, and she knew from his tone that he didn't think this was the reason for their bottom-of-the-barrel status either. "They just… don't get it."
She nodded, sure she would come to understand the inner workings of McKinley's social ladder in time. But if she'd had any doubts, today had proved irrefutably that she had just entered at the very bottom.
"So…" he said, looking even more uncomfortable. "What kind of a project were you thinking?"
She beamed at him, pleasantly surprised. "Really?"
He grinned crookedly at her again. "Yeah. I guess getting a slushie tossed in your face kinda makes you one of us, and if you sing half as intense as you talk… well, the club could definitely use a little motivating right now."
She nodded enthusiastically. "You won't regret it. Meet me in the choir room tomorrow at lunch."
"Cool."
Yeah, she thought, smiling easily at him. Maybe it would be.
Rehearsal that afternoon was tense. Mr. Schue got everyone's attention to start, but before he could so much as pick up a marker, Rachel's hand was in the air. She marched to the front of the room, facing them all with a crazy glare Quinn would totally appreciate. Finn just had time to register the fierce gleam in her eye – he never would've guessed she'd been slushied three hours earlier if he hadn't seen it first-hand – and then she started talking so fast it sounded like she was speaking French or something. He picked out words like "talented addition" and "neglected opportunity," and he figured this all had something to do with her less-than-warm-welcome the day before.
Just when he started to wonder whether he was the only one not following her, she pointed at the piano dude and he realized she was about to sing something. Curious, Finn sat up a little straighter. He didn't recognize the song or the play it was apparently from, but Mr. Schue (who smiled) and Kurt (who scoffed) both seemed to. What kind of a name was Lay Miz, anyway?
Whoa.
She hadn't been just blowing smoke. She could sing. He wasn't a vocal expert or anything, but he was pretty sure anyone with ears would jump to agree with him. Her voice was like nothing he'd ever heard, cutting straight through him and somehow warming his heart. It kind of reminded him of the way he felt gulping down thick, rich hot chocolate in front of a fireplace, like he used to for hours every Christmas Eve until he could have sworn the flames were inside his chest.
Rachel Berry had a voice like Christmas – and he loved Christmas.
And then the music swelled, and it got really hard to remember her scary glare when her face was screwed up like she meant every word. The music got quiet again as her eyes opened and locked onto his, both intense and soft at the same time. They held his gaze like some kind of magnet, even from across the room, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be hypnotized. He literally couldn't look away. Strangely, he didn't think he wanted to.
She held out one last, soft note as the music died off completely, and he applauded along with the rest of the club – some more bitterly than others. Rachel finally broke their eye-lock to glance at Mr. Schue, but it wasn't until his cheeks started to ache that Finn realized he was grinning. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to rehearse with her tomorrow.
Rachel sat down, and Mr. Schue started talking again. No, not talking. Lecturing. He was "disappointed" that all the guys – except Kurt – were still acting standoffish about the assignment.
"It's not personal, Mr. Schue," Artie explained. "Madonna just doesn't really hold my attention."
"He means her music," said Puck. "That MILF is smokin'."
"Truth!" Artie breathed, and a few more guys whistled or grunted in agreement.
Predictably, all the girls suddenly looked furious. Artie shrank into his chair when Tina gave him the stink eye, and even Rachel whipped her head around in surprise.
"You know what, that is it." Mercedes' got out of her chair and faced Puck with her hands on her hips. Uh oh. "Y'all have been pulling this tough guy bull all week and I'm sick off it. You really need to get over yourselves."
"Let's not –" Finn started to say, but Puck cut him off.
"Like you didn't whine every damn day until we sat through your little 'R&B appreciation week'."
Mercedes held up a finger, her voice dangerously soft. "Oh I know you're not about to diss Whitney!"
"Whatever," Santana said as she crossed her arms with a huff. "I'm still waiting to spice this place up with some Latin flava."
Quinn sighed loudly on Finn's other side. "Not that again."
"I have chili peppers in my locker, San," Brittany offered, smiling like she'd just solved everything. Everyone paused to look confusedly at her, and Finn wanted to smile, too. If only it were that simple.
"Guys!" Mr. Schue called from the front of the room, obviously desperate to change the subject. "The point here is not that one person is right and everyone else is miserable. We should all –"
"Like hell it's not."
"We're supposed to be a team!" He just caught Tina's soft voice through all the grumbling.
"We weren't a team when you protested doing Coldplay…"
Arguments broke out all over the room. Finn had to scoot his chair back a few inches so he wouldn't get caught in the line of fire – Quinn and Santana were both leaning around him to scream at each other. He could just make out Rachel through the Cheerios' wildly gesturing arms, watching the drama unfold in something like horror.
Maybe the cattle prod wasn't such a bad idea.
When Finn looked up to see how short Mr. Schue's fuse was today, he was surprised to see their teacher looking sadly back at him. Finn guiltily dropped his eyes to his shoes. He knew Mr. Schue was hoping he'd say something to back him up. He totally would've, if it had half a shot of working,.
Actually, Madonna's music didn't really do it for him either, though he didn't want to piss off Mr. Schue (or Quinn) even more by saying so. The other guys might work on a group number to humor the girls, but none of them were going to go home and put something together on their own time. Finn didn't see the big deal either way, but if they were digging their heels in this much over it, it wasn't worth blowing this up even more.
He'd have caught up with Mr. Schue later and told him so, but he was tired of getting stuck awkwardly in the middle. Mr. Schue meant well, but he was surprisingly clueless – so much that even Finn could tell – at knowing when club issues were about the music and when they were about the people.
Before Finn realized it, rehearsal was over – most of the guys had to leave for practice and it wasn't worth it to keep going with barely half the club even when they weren't at each other's throats. He shuffled to the door with his head down, waiting to hear Mr. Schue call after him… but it never happened. He reached the hall, and turned to watch the door closing slowly behind him in surprise. He should be relieved that he was off the hook, but he actually felt more worried than ever.
All this arguing over assignments wasn't new. From day one, Mr. Schue challenged them to find their own voices and look for music that made them each different. He probably just wanted to give them the confidence to stand up and sing, but instead it started a competition that never stopped. Someone was always complaining about not being heard, no matter what the assignment was. Finn had gotten used to being Mr. Schue's go-to second in command whenever that happened, so what made this different? Was Madonna the last straw? Had they finally pushed him too far?
Was Mr. Schue… giving up?
They were officially screwed.
The next day, Quinn cornered Finn on his way to meet Rachel in the choir room, looking so angry he could practically see steam coming out of her ears. What had he done now?
"You helped clean her off?" she hissed at him, hands on her hips.
Crap. He had been meaning to talk to her about the Rachel situation, but as always Quinn was three steps ahead of him.
He backpedaled automatically. "No!… Not exactly. I just helped her find a bathroom. She couldn't really see with all that corn syrup in her eyes."
"Finn! What did I say about your idiotic chivalry?"
He shrugged innocently. "I don't know. I didn't even know what that meant."
Her voice lowered to a bitter growl. "It meant that she was supposed to be humiliated. How do you expect me to get rid of her with you being all nice?"
He took a deep breath and braced himself to get slapped. She was not going to like this. "Look, I know I didn't trust her either, but I think… maybe… she could help us."
He gulped at the look on her face. She was going to kill him. Literally.
"Do you have a concussion?" Quinn cried. "She shows up right when we become a threat… her mom is their coach… and you think she wants to help us? Every minute she stays is another minute she's working to bring the club down."
"Maybe that's true," he said carefully. "But just think for a second. We don't have a prayer at Regionals the way the club is acting right now. She was their lead. If anyone could help us beat them it'd be her – you heard her sing yesterday. And if I'm wrong about her… well, then we're no worse off than we are now. I want us to be together on this, but, I'm sorry, I won't help you drive her out."
Quinn shook her head slowly, gazing up at him. "She's really done a number on you. And you think glee is the only thing you're gambling."
"What else would I be worried about?"
Immediately he knew he'd said the wrong thing. He thought Quinn was about to bitch some more, but then her shoulders dropped a fraction, the muscles in her jaw stopped bulging, and her eyes swam like she was about to cry. For a second, he forgot they were in the hallway with tons of people around. He realized he wasn't looking at her icy bitch mode. This was her vulnerable side, the one she never showed him on purpose, especially at school.
"Quinn," he started to say, but in a flash she was glaring at him again, her eyes still glossy. She didn't say another word, but turned and marched away. She'd never given up yelling at him before. He must have really stepped in it this time, though he didn't have a clue how.
He walked the rest of the way to the choir room slowly, knowing Rachel was waiting for him. He felt way too confused to be excited about rehearsing anymore.
Rachel paced next to the piano nervously, sorting through sheet music to occupy her hands. She had been able to enlist the services of the band without much trouble, but a nagging voice in the back of her head wondered if it might all be for nothing. She glanced frantically between the two open doors as the seconds ticked away on the clock. What if he didn't come?
But four minutes after the lunch bell rang, his tall form appeared in the left doorway, and she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, smiling broadly as he shut the door behind him. "Finn, I'm glad you're here," she said excitedly. "I never did thank you for your help yesterday –"
"Forget it," he said shortly, staring somewhere over her head.
"Okay," she replied, handing him his copy of the music across the piano. "I have put together a mash-up that flatters both of our voices and fits into the Madonna assignment for the week."
He seemed to process this information very slowly, furrowing his eyebrows as he glanced at her, down at the sheet music, and back up at her again. "You want us to sing Madonna?"
"Well, I thought that would be the best use of our time, though I bet you're already hard at work on something to fix the dismal morale." She leaned eagerly towards him across the piano. "Which song were you thinking?"
"Uhh," he said, looking even more confused. "Song?"
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He couldn't actually be this thick. "The boys revealed a complete disrespect for the girls at rehearsal yesterday. Didn't you notice all the animosity in that room?"
"Well, yeah," he shrugged guiltily, "but honestly that's kinda normal. It'll blow over and then everyone will be pissed about something else next week."
Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing. "And you just accept that? As captain, it's your responsibility to maintain good morale and a positive creative atmosphere."
"I know that, okay?" he snapped at her. "I just can't do all that for glee and basketball and my friends. Besides, the glee drama usually starts as couples' drama, which is really none of my business. They can fix it without my help."
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. He had a point, and she could certainly see why he was struggling to find a solution. Still, to let such little things continue to get in the way of the group's performance would be irresponsible. "Maybe you don't have to fix it. Maybe you just have to remind them that there are bigger and more important things than their petty arguments."
He threw his hands up, clearly unconvinced. "Okay, how?"
She smiled brightly. "Well, that's the beauty of glee. The right song fixes everything."
He blinked at her, mouth open slightly.
"Ready to give it a try?" she asked, lifting the sheet music.
Looking a little bewildered, Finn carried his copy over to the band. The drummer nodded to him and moved out of the way, offering Finn the drumsticks as if this was routine. Her eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, but she cued Brad for the piano intro without comment.
Rachel fixed her gaze on Finn as she belted the first verse, pouring raw feeling into her voice. A corner of his mouth lifted as he looked back at her, drumming a steady tempo. The lyrics weren't quite as apt for their situation as she would've liked, but the tone of these two songs together – fraught, emotional turmoil – was something she hoped he could relate to. She circled him as closely as the drum set would allow, as though she could elicit a reaction out of him through sheer proximity.
She smiled back when Finn's voice split the air at the chorus. She had not forgotten his surprising vocal charisma from Sectionals, but now that he was back in his element, back in his own choir room, he suddenly seemed to pulse with energy. He didn't glance down at his sheet music once, though it was draped over his left knee (the one not bouncing in time with the base drum). Still, he never missed a beat, and all the while he kept his eyes on her.
Delighted at his obvious enthusiasm, she grinned around the lyrics, harmonizing with him through the rest of the chorus and into the bridge. She could never have predicted that his voice would complement hers so well. As paradoxical as it sounded in theory, the lighter, rougher tambour of his voice somehow blended with the clearer, richer tone of hers so thoroughly that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. She never wanted it to end.
All at once, she felt the energy in the room reach a boiling point, and Finn leapt away from the drum set and handed off the sticks to the band's drummer, grinning that crooked grin as he stalked purposefully toward her. She skipped playfully away from him, letting him chase her around the piano in something like cat-and-mouse choreography (which, she realized belatedly, was also quite appropriate for the one-sided infatuation the mash-up expressed). But as the music soared into the last verse, she let him catch up, bracing one arm against the piano as she twirled around to face him.
Her eyes fell closed at the last, glorious note. How Finn knew exactly when to cut off when she hadn't given him a cue, she could only guess, but she couldn't take the time to wonder about it when she could barely draw a full breath.
She stared up at him in wonder, feeling suddenly self-conscious at their proximity. It was as though that last chord had struck her like a tuning fork, leaving her vibrating on the spot long after it had faded away. She always bared her soul when she sang – it was part of the appeal, the rush that never grew old. Only now, something else was crackling in the air between them, some palpable, nameless feeling that hadn't ended with the music. She met his eyes apprehensively, all too aware of the lingering tension. He looked exactly as flushed as she felt.
"Th-That was good," she finally managed to stutter breathlessly.
"Totally."
Singing with Rachel was seriously intense.
Okay, more than intense… maybe even a little scary, but in a good way… almost like a rollercoaster. It had been years since that time he'd gotten to go up to Cedar Point for a birthday party, but he definitely remembered how it felt after that first ride, the way his head wouldn't stop spinning and the ground under his feet had suddenly seemed different somehow than when he'd last walked on it.
Of course he'd almost tripped over his own feet getting right back in line then, and he was fully ready for another run-through with Rachel now. At least, he was… until his stomach growled so loudly he heard it echoing off the choir room walls.
It clearly startled her – he thought she might be doing a deer-in-the-headlights impersonation for a second – until his stomach gurgled again and she figured out where the sound was coming from. He half-expected her to be pissed, as seriously as she obviously took her music, but she had just giggled, looking relieved for some reason.
She was still breathing really hard. "It probably wasn't a good idea for us to risk our health when the team is depending on us to be at our physical best," she admitted, smiling.
If that meant that him missing lunch helped no one, he wholeheartedly agreed.
She stared after him as he flashed her one last crooked smile and left for the cafeteria. As soon as he was out of sight, she let her arms flop dramatically over the piano.
What was wrong with her? They held the last note for barely a full measure – she shouldn't be so breathless.
She must have been neglecting her vocal regimen if one Madonna mash-up left her winded. Or maybe she was getting sick; she hadn't missed a day of school in two years, but there was a chance her recent commitment to a vegan lifestyle was compromising her nutritional health.
It would be nothing short of tragic if she was forced to concede her moral values for the sake of her vocal fitness… though it could make for an inspiring and bittersweet chapter of her memoirs one day: how she conceived of the idea for a foundation to give back to the animals who had suffered so that Rachel Berry could bring her voice to the stage and the world beyond.
But of course she was overreacting. She had given up her lunch period for rehearsal; she simply hadn't eaten in a while. That was quite easily fixed, though she would put in a call to their family doctor if it happened again.
That afternoon, for the first time ever, Mr. Schue let everyone else go early, asking to talk to just the boys. Finn's first thought was that they were in trouble, and he turned to look at Puck the same time everyone else did. Even if Mr. Schue wasn't wearing his lecture face and didn't look angry, exactly, it was a still pretty safe bet that Puck had done something stupid.
But instead Mr. Schue passed out sheet music and asked them to come stand at the piano. And then Finn started to wonder if maybe he and Rachel had, like, corna – coorda – planned out their speeches or something. This one was slower than Rachel's mash-up, but it still wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be, for a Madonna song. Personally, he would have cranked up the base and added a drum solo somewhere, but he figured that wasn't Mr. Schue's point.
Of course Puck had to throw in his two cents, but it was still the least hostile Finn had seen him all week whenever this assignment came up. Maybe something about that song had hit a little too close to home, or maybe Puck was just tired of all the fighting (yeah, right), but something Rachel said suddenly made a little more sense: "The right song fixes everything."
He was pretty sure the song hadn't actually calmed Puck down, or made Kurt all wise, or gotten Artie to admit he'd been objectifying Tina. But if it hadn't been for that song, he doubted they'd all be standing around the piano right now, really talking about the girls' feelings instead of acting too cool for them like they had been all week.
Mr. Schue finally sent them home, reaching up to clap Finn on the shoulder like he'd just thrown a touchdown or something. But the game wasn't over yet.
Most of the club's issues probably weren't even close to his business, but they were his one shot at getting out of Lima. Hell, they were all each other's best hope for that, and he would never get over it if they all lost because he was so busy trying to be the cool guy that he let them down as a captain. And on top of that, they were his friends, no matter how much Quinn tried to keep from being associated with them outside of the choir room. Rachel was right – maybe he couldn't be the leader and everyone's favorite person, but if it meant winning Regionals, getting scholarships, did it even matter?
Finn left the choir room feeling like he was on a mission. Even if he didn't know how to fix all their problems, he'd been paying attention. The club's drama was pretty obvious, anyway. The dudes needed to make things right with the girls. He had a feeling this whole thing was about way more than Madonna, but if performing one of her songs meant that much to them, he'd bully the other guys into it if he had to.
Mr. Schue needed to see that his opinion mattered. Even if they didn't always agree, he was their director, and they couldn't do this without him.
Rachel needed a way in with the rest of the club. Her voice was the secret weapon they'd been looking for, but it wouldn't do them any good if the team wouldn't get their heads out of their asses long enough to work with her. They'd just have to get over that. But unless he wanted all the other egos in the club to freak out and quit, they needed their share of the spotlight, too.
And then there was Quinn. He didn't know what was happening with them, or why it felt like their relationship was drying up, but it wasn't fair to make her the bad guy over a slushie. He'd thought Rachel was evil, too, until he'd actually talked to her. He knew Quinn just wanted the same thing he did – for them to win. She may have gone about it the wrong way, but she needed to know that she could trust him to take care of this.
The last time the team had rallied together in song, it was more like a patch job – just something to put off the fighting until after Sectionals. He wasn't sure one song could actually fix all the drama gumming up the works, but he had a feeling Rachel knew what she was talking about. And at this point, he'd try anything.
So he needed a Madonna song they could all sing together, something that didn't sound like it came from a chick flick soundtrack. They'd been blasting her music all week through the intercoms… he had to remember at least a couple of 'em… Wait – there was that one he'd gotten stuck in his head in math the other day. He never paid much attention in that class anyway, but it wasn't even worth it to try around the music. He remembered thinking that the lyrics were majorly weird, like maybe Madonna was high or something when she wrote it, but now they were actually kinda perfect.
Puck's Call of Duty marathon would have to wait; he had something more important to do this weekend.
A/N: I really had a good time envisioning Finn's "eureka" moment being all literal with the lyrics to "Like a Prayer." Seriously, go look 'em up. "No choice, your voice will take me there..." Rachel = voice, there = Regionals. Seems like a very Finn conclusion to draw.
The songs mentioned were "On My Own," "Open Your Heart/Borderline," and "What It Feels Like (For A Girl)."
Okay, time to get excessively wordy here for a minute, but it's potentially crucial to your full enjoyment of this story.
On which S1 plotlines happened and which ones didn't: When I conceived the alternate history to this story, I thought of Rachel's absence like a butterfly effect. Use your imagination, and most of it comes up common sense. Like Rachel didn't get them cast in that commercial in Mattress, so Mr. Schue was still there for them at Sectionals. Etc etc. And as many of you have hopefully figured out, Quinn is not pregnant here. My personal theory about that is that in canon Quinn and Puck had sex somewhere between Quinn witnessing Finn and Rachel's chemistry during "Push It" and the end of the episode when she decided to join glee to get Finn back. The point being that she cheated because she was threatened by Rachel, that seeing them together made her insecure. So she and Finn are still together in this universe, but without the baby to rekindle their commitment, they've continued to drift apart. But... that doesn't affect the foundation for any Quick feelings that may have been there all along... just sayin'.
The other thing I should probably explain is the heightened club bickering in this universe. On the show, Rachel was the clear leader, and she was their go to soloist. Even if people like Kurt and Mercedes were always begging to be featured more, the knowledge that they had a tried and true formula to fall back on was comforting. It took off some of the pressure around competition time. They could brainstorm how to perform instead of what to perform. The same goes for Mr. Schue. He could give them any assignment he came up with, and Rachel would take it seriously and make him look brilliant, not to mention putting pressure on the rest of the club to keep up with her. The club has never experienced that here, so it's a very different dynamic with everyone still fighting over the title of "most original."
It's also been suggested to me that I should explain why I'm handling the music the way I am. Every time I read a fic that includes lyrics, I always find myself scrolling past them. But this is Glee, and obviously music is a huge part of their lives, so I also wouldn't want to ignore that completely. On the show, they use music to tell the story, and this is my attempt to accomplish the same thing on paper, digging at why they chose that song, what it feels like to perform it, what it's helping them to work through, rather than on the song itself.
I'm following the back nine, so the plus side is that all of the music you'll see mentioned here should be familiar already. What's different is the emotions and motivations of the characters going into these numbers because of that altered storyline, and that's what I'll be focusing on. (I should clarify that not every song performed on the show will appear here - some obviously don't happen at all because of the continuity changes, but others just happen in the background because they don't directly relate or affect this alternate storyline.) I will also credit the song titles at the end of every chapter, just in case there's any doubt which song it was. Hopefully, you still feel the presence of the music, but if you really need something extra, listen to it in the background (that's what I do when I'm writing the scene). This feels like the right way to do it, but I've never done (or read) anything like this before, so I really would appreciate any feedback from you guys about how it's coming across.
I'm getting off my soapbox. And please do review. I'd love to get your thoughts on all this, and they make me giddy.
