This might be my favorite chapter. :) We'll see!

Sue was a bit confused as to why Will had taken her to this place. There was no coffee being served, and it smelled like smoke and body odor. She saw several burly men in leather jackets sitting around, laughing and guzzling down alcohol.

"You're sure you don't have coffee?" Sue asked the waiter.

"I'm quite sure," he sighed, putting a mug of beer down in front of her and walking away.

Sue turned to Will. "I've never been here before." She shrugged. "I've never been to this side of town before, in fact. So, I have been . . . Well, I've been . . . dying to ask you something, Mr. Ryan."

"Please, call me Will," he insisted.

Sue took on a puzzled expression. "Will?"

And then Will remembered that, around Sue and everyone else at William McKinley Preparatory Academy, he was not really Will Schuester; he was Bryan Ryan.

Will cleared his throat. "Bryan. Call me Bryan. I was thinking of my other name. My middle name. Yeah."

"Well, Bryan, in your experience, how does McKinley Prep compare to the other schools that you've taught at?"

"Oh, your school is the best," Will said.

Sue smiled. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. You know that kids at other schools just have fun all the time? They run around. There's no discipline. They're happy. It's anarchy," he mumbled. "This is the best school I have ever taught at. I swear."

"I'll drink to that." Sue guzzled down the alcohol that had been placed in front of her. It tasted bitter to her at first, but then she liked it. She got a refill and drank it all down at once.

"Stay there," Will said as he stood up. "I'm gonna put on some music." He went to the back of the room to the jukebox. He'd talked to the other teachers earlier and learned that Sue was a total nutjob when it came to Stevie Nicks. She'd once even gotten up on a table and danced when one of her songs came on. Will put on that certain song and smirked as he went back to the table, noticing Sue's wide grin.

"I love this song!" she exclaimed.

"Really?" Will asked, sitting back down.

"Yes! Stevie Nicks!"

"Yeah."

"You know," Sue began, swaying to the music, "she came to town, and she did a concert, and she was just so . . . wild."

Will nodded. "I know. Oh, man."

"She put on the best show ever."

"She's better live than she is on the album," Will stated. "You know what I mean?"

"Yes, yes," Sue agreed. She closed her eyes and started to dance in her seat. "Oh, my gosh. No comparison."

"Yeah. You know what? Oh, man, I would love to take the kids to a concert!"

"Concert?"

"Yeah." Will pretended to think for a second. "There's one at the end of the month. The Philharmonic. They do classics. They do Beethoven, Mozart . . . that kind of stuff." He shrugged, even though he knew Sue couldn't see him; her eyes were still closed. "But you have a policy about field trips."

"Would it be educational?" Sue questioned, opening her eyes.

Will grinned. His plan was working perfectly. Sue was mesmerized by the song, and she was already on her third mug of beer, so she didn't really know what she was saying. "It could be very educational."

"Maybe we can make an exception."

"Yes!" Will exclaimed under his breath, mock-punching the air in triumph.

Sue started to sing along to the song aloud.

"I'm holding you to that," Will said when he knew she wasn't listening to him. "Make an exception."

As Sue sang along, Will joined in. He got louder than her.

"Would you stop that, please?" Sue asked after a moment.

Will nodded. "Yeah."

Will pulled up to Sue's apartment building. He parked the van and, as she gathered her belongings, Sue said, "I had a really nice time."

"Yeah, ditto."

Sue sighed. "This is the first time a teacher has asked me to do anything outside of school."

"No way!" It wasn't really surprising to Will; he'd had to get her borderline-drunk and play her favorite song for her to be the least bit fun.

"It's . . . It's true." Sue swallowed hard. "In six years."

"Well, you know, I think it might be one of those things where people are intimidated."

"Intimidated?" Sue rolled her eyes. "They hate me."

Will shook his head. "No. They don't."

"Yes, they do. They sure do. I can see." Sue twisted around in her seat to stare at Will. "I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always wound this tight. There was a time when I was fun. I was funny."

Will chuckled.

"I was," Sue insisted. "But you can't be funny and be the principal of a prep school."

Will was about to object, but Sue cut him off.

"No, you cannot, because when it comes to their kids, these parents . . . they have no sense of humor. If anything goes wrong, it's my head." She exhaled heavily. "It's my head in the smasher. These parents will come down on me like a nuclear bomb. I can't make a mistake. I gotta be perfect. And that pressure has turned me into one thing that I never wanted to be." She gulped and mouthed the words: A bitch.

"No," Will disagreed. "You're not."

"Yes, I am. I am a big one."

"Well, I don't think so." Will shrugged. "I think you're pretty cool."

"Really?" Sue smiled. "No."

"Yeah. You're way cool."

Back in the classroom, Will had a checklist. He was making sure that everything was back in the classroom and not stuffed in the closet or broken from being in there. It was the morning after the fiasco with Sue barging in on their class, so everyone had to get back into the swing of things. Kurt was almost finished with his model of the outfits he wanted everyone to wear. Rachel and Mercedes were helping him out. Artie was working on getting the security monitor working again, and Brittany was standing over his shoulder, watching. Everyone else was helping Will make sure all the equipment was there and working well.

"Okay," Will sighed. "Drums?"

Finn and Quinn inspected the drum set, making sure every piece was there and that there was nothing broken. The two looked up at Will and Quinn said, "House."

"Keyboard?"

Mike gave Will a thumbs-up after he and Santana looked at the keyboard. "House."

"Amps?"

Tina gestured toward both of them, as they were perfectly fine.

"All right. Cables?"

Sam held up the cords that went to the keyboard, amps, and guitars. "Got 'em."

"Okay. Guitar?"

"Yep," Puck muttered, holding up his guitar.

"Mr. Ryan!" Kurt called excitedly.

Will turned on his heel. "Yeah?"

"What do you think?" Kurt gestured toward his designs. He'd made a design for boys and another for girls. The outfits were colorful and had sequins all over. They were extremely glittered and flashy. They almost hurt Will's eyes. But they were not hardcore rock. They were far too sissy. Will didn't like them. But he couldn't tell Kurt that flat-out.

"I don't know. I . . ." Will hesitated. "They might be a little distracting."

"It's glitter rock and it's glam and it's fabulous," Kurt disagreed.

"Kurt, it's just not the right style."

Kurt folded his arms across his chest and scoffed. "You're gonna talk to me about style? You can't dress yourself. Look at that vest. And that sweater you wore yesterday."

"Don't talk about my vest or my sweater."

"You know what?" Kurt threw his hands in the air in surrender. "I give up. They can just wear their uniforms."

Will smiled. "That's not a bad idea."

"Not a bad idea?" Kurt's eyes widened. "I was kidding."

Suddenly, their debacle was cut off by Puck playing the guitar. It wasn't Will's song, and it wasn't a classic rock song that Will had taught Puck, either. It was one that he'd never heard before, not once in his life. Had Puck made it up himself? Will turned away from Kurt.

"Excuse me," he mumbled to the feminine boy, who groaned agitatedly. He made his way over to Puck. "Hey, hey. What is that?"

Puck stopped playing and looked up. "What's what?"

"What are you playing?"

Puck shrugged. "Just something I wrote."

"You wrote a song?" Will yelled.

Puck nodded.

"Well, let's hear it!"

"No. It's not that good," Puck grumbled.

"Come on," Will urged. "I want to hear it, Mohawk."

"Okay," Puck sighed. He started playing the tune on the guitar again. He cleared his throat and sang, "Baby, we were making straight A's, but we were stuck in a dumb daze. Don't take much to memorize your lies. Feel like I've been hypnotized."

"Wait." Will stopped him. "You wrote that?"

Puck nodded. Will was astonished. It was good. It was even better than Will's song. And the kid had a hell of a singing voice, too. Will grinned and picked up his guitar.

"That's it. Guys, rock 'n' roll positions," he said to the class. Finn flopped down behind his drum set. Sam picked up his bass. Kurt went behind his keyboard. Quinn, Santana, and Mercedes stood behind their microphones.

"What are you doing?" Puck asked.

"We're gonna learn your song," Will explained.

"But why?"

Will grinned. "That's what bands do, man. Play each other's songs. You got lyrics? Hook me up."

Puck pulled a folded-up piece of paper from his pocket. Will opened it and looked over the lyrics, nodding approvingly.

"No more secret songs." He turned to Kurt. "All right, Kurt, no more reading music. Time for rock."

Kurt nodded.

"Undersizer, just give me a simple beat," Will ordered Finn. "You can rock it up during the song, 'kay?"

Finn nodded and started to play a beat.

Will pointed to Sam. "I'm gonna need a D, C, G, C, and keep repeating. 'Kay? Bass it up!"

Sam did just as he was told.

Puck showed Will what he'd been playing. The two played together. Then Will started to sing. Instead of doing the whole song, though, he took it right from the chorus. "And if you wanna be the teacher's pet, baby, you just better forget it. Rock is the reason, rock is the rhyme." Then he cut them off and turned to Puck. "Know what would be better? 'Rock got no reason, rock got no rhyme.' Can we try that?"

"Yeah," Puck said, nodding.

Will faced Quinn, Santana, and Mercedes. "Also, we need some 'ooh-la-la's.'" He sang exactly what he wanted it to sound like. "Try that. Can we take it from the chorus?"

They did just that. At the end of the chorus, Will decided that he'd have a guitar solo.

Puck nodded again. "All right."

"You can solo later," Will assured him. He turned to the rest of the class. "Tomorrow is the big day, so get your rest. No late parties, drinking tequila, or trying to get lucky. Chances like this do not come around every day. You've played hard in here, and I am proud of every last stinking one of you. Let's just give this everything we got. We may fall on our faces, but if we do, we will fall with dignity! With a guitar in our hands and rock in our hearts! And in the words of AC/DC: 'We roll tonight to the guitar bite, and for those about to rock, I salute you.'"

"Sue! Excuse me, wanted to remind you about our field trip tomorrow."

Sue stared at Will with a strange expression. "What field trip?"

"The educational concert," Will reminded her.

"Oh, I forgot about that," Sue breathed, nodding. "I don't know. School policy is very difficult to get around."

Will's eyes widened. "But you said we could make an exception, and the kids are excited about hearing some Mozart."

"I know, but the preparations . . ." Sue shrugged. "There's not enough time. I don't know anything about it. Where is it?"

Will swallowed. "I've got it all covered. What's going on? Are you mad at me?"

Sue sighed. "No, no, Bryan. I'm sorry. I'm just a little stressed out because it's Parents' Night tonight."

"Hey, it's all gonna be fine," Will said.

"Bryan, would you mind coming with me tonight to Parents' Night? It wouldn't be a date or anything. I get nervous around the parents, and there's something about you that makes me feel more relaxed."

"You know what, that sounds so great, Sue, but . . ."

Sue cocked her head to the side. "But what?"

"I wasn't planning on going tonight," Will stated with a shrug.

"You have to. You're their teacher," Sue laughed. "You have to give the presentation."

Crap. Will had totally forgotten about the damn presentation he had been asked to prepare for the parents. And now Sue was calling him out on it. He gulped. "Oh, yeah, yeah. No, I got you. I'm ready for that. So we'll go together?"

Sue smiled. "Why don't you pick me up at, say, 6:40?"

"Done. All right."

"What are you all dressed up for?" Bryan asked, back at the apartment.

Will smirked. "I got a hot date." He was fixing his hair in the mirror as Bryan looked through the mail, whistling. Suddenly, the whistling stopped.

"That's weird," Bryan mumbled. "I got a check from William McKinley Preparatory Academy for $1,200. I've never worked there."

Will's eyes widened. He ran toward the phone and started punching in numbers vigorously.

"What are you doing?" Bryan asked.

"Calling the school," Will said simply. Once the secretary answered, Will cleared his throat and said, "Hi, this is Bryan Ryan."

"Will? What's going on?" Bryan questioned, obviously confused.

"I told them fifteen times: Make it out to cash!" He slammed the phone down on the receiver.

"Will?"

Will sighed. "I did something bad, Bryan. They called for a sub. I said I was you, to make some money. But then I got there, and the kids . . . They rock, man. There's this super small kid Finn who's like, 'I can't play the drums,' but now he's a rockin' drummer! There's this other girl, Mercedes, who can sing, like, amazingly. She thought she was too fat, so they were dying, and the principal got drunk. Now we're playing Battle of the Bands. It's the coolest thing!"

Bryan stared at Will open-mouthed.

"One day. Just give me one day," Will begged. "Then I'll come clean. I'll tell everyone it was my fault. You'll be fine. One day!"

"Bryan!" Terri called, entering the apartment. "I'm home."

"Don't say anything to her," Will said through clenched teeth. "She'll blow everything. Please?"

Bryan nodded.

"Hey," Terri greeted them, entering the kitchen. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I got a hot date. That's what's going on." Will stood up. "See you later."

Will peered into the room full of students with their parents. He gulped and turned to Sue. "Okay, I don't think I can go in there."

"What's wrong?" Sue asked.

"Sue . . . I'm not a teacher."

Sue laughed. "Oh, Bryan. A substitute is a teacher."

Will shook his head. "No, no. I'm not a teacher." He sighed. "I'm a fraud."

"No," Sue disagreed. "You're not. You're a dedicated, talented teacher, and those parents are gonna love you. Just get in there and tell those parents what you've been teaching their kids."

Will strolled into the room. All eyes were on him. He went behind the desk and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, you know, math, English . . . uh, science . . . What else? Geography, history, Latin, Spanish, French . . . Latin . . . math. Did I say that already?"

Several parents raised their eyebrows.

"Anyway," Will continued, "all the stuff you want your kids to know, it's been covered, okay? So, it was great to meet you all, and drive safe."

"Excuse me," Mrs. Puckerman spoke up. "Since you started, all my son talks about is music. He says he wants to be a musician. Is this your influence?"

"Why has my daughter become obsessed with David Geffen?" Mrs. Cohen-Chang asked.

Mr. Hummel held up a Led Zeppelin CD. "And how is this homework?"

"Okay, see, I would like to tell you about what we've been doing in here, but there's such a thing as teacher-student confidentiality, and I don't want to be in breach of educational law because I could be dismembered by the teacher's union, so . . ."

"You expect us to believe this garbage?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Mr. Ryan, don't you think you should tell them about the project?" Rachel asked.

"What project?" one of Rachel's two gay dads asked.

Rachel looked up at him. "Our class project. Every school in the state is competing."

Mrs. Puckerman stared at Will. "Competing?"

"It's not till next quarter," Quinn spoke up, "but Mr. Ryan wanted us to get a head start."

"Well, what's the project, Rachel?"

"It's prestigious," Rachel said. "A win will go on our permanent record."

Puck shrugged. "You might as well tell them, Mr. Ryan."

Will sighed. He looked out into the hall. He saw two policemen standing next to Bryan and Terri, and he immediately began panicking. Terri was yapping away, pointing at Will. Bryan looked nervous. He'd promised not to tell Terri! Will ignored his rapidly-beating heart and looked out at the parents.

"Okay, look. I've gotten to know your kids the past few weeks. They're awesome." He looked at Mrs. Puckerman. "Puck is an insane guitarist. He's the next Hendrix, and he's ten." He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Abrams. "And Artie here, he's a genius! He did a whole professional light show on his computer in three days. And . . ." Will searched the class, and his gaze landed on the Fabray's. "And Quinn here, she's . . . She can hit an A above high C. Did you know that? Because that's tough. Not many singers can do that." Will looked at the Berry's. "And Rachel is gonna be the first woman president of the United States. She could run this year. I would vote for her." Will took a deep breath before continuing on. "Look, they're just really cool kids. If they were mine, I would be so proud. And I am proud, just to even know them. And—"

Suddenly, Will was cut off. One of the officers approached him.

"Sir, can I see you in the hall for a moment?" he asked.

"Let me just say a couple more things," Will murmured.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Pierce asked. "What's happening?"

The other officer came in then. "Apparently, that man is not Bryan Ryan.

"What?" Mr. Lopez demanded.

"This man is Bryan Ryan," the officer repeated.

"He's not even a teacher!" Terri yelled, storming into the room.

Will glared at Bryan. "You called the cops?"

"She did," Bryan said, jerking his thumb toward Terri. "She got it out of me. Sorry."

"Bryan," Sue whispered, entering the room. "Bryan, is this true? Who are you?"

Will took a deep breath. "My name is William Schuester. And, no, I'm not a licensed teacher, but I have been touched by your kids. And I'm pretty sure I've touched them."

Everyone's eyes widened, and Mr. Evans muttered, "Oh, my God."

Later, back at the apartment, Terri growled at Will, "I have nothing to say to you. It's one thing to throw your life away, but to put Bryan in jeopardy is selfish!"

"You told me to be like Bryan and get a job," Will reminded her.

"I told you to be like Bryan! I didn't tell you to be Bryan!" Terri screamed as Will flopped down on the couch. "You're not gonna apologize?"

"You apologize for calling the cops," Will mumbled. "I didn't murder anybody. I wanted to play a great show. I was this close!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Bryan yelled suddenly. "Would you both just cut it out for one second?"

Terri scoffed and stormed off to her bedroom.

Will looked at Bryan sincerely. "Look, I'm sorry, dude. I was desperate. It was easy for you to give up music. It ain't easy for me."

"It wasn't easy for me. I miss it," Bryan told him.

"Well, then why'd you give it up?"

Bryan shoved his face in his hands. "Because I couldn't keep kidding myself anymore. You can blame it all on bad luck, but in the end, maybe we just weren't that good. Sometimes you gotta know when to quit."

"Right, maybe I suck."

"That's not what I said."

Will leapt to his feet. "Well, music is my life, man. What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, but . . ." Bryan stood up as well. "I think it's time you moved out." He shrugged. "Sorry."

"So his name wasn't Bryan Ryan?" Mercedes clarified. The kids were all sitting in the classroom, waiting. It was the morning after Parents' Night, and all of their parents were in Sue's office, fighting with her about Will.

"No. It was, like, William somethin'," Santana sighed.

"What about the project?" Brittany asked.

"Wake up, Britt; there was no project!" Rachel exclaimed. "He wanted us to play a show so he could make money."

Artie shook his head. "I can't believe we weren't graded."

"Why are you bummed?" Puck asked everyone. "We had a three-week vacation. It was a waste of time, but it was better than school."

"It was not a waste of time!" Finn snapped.

Puck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's what it was."

"You're an idiot," Finn told him.

"Shut up!" Puck yelled.

"No, you shut up!"

"You want to go?"

"Touch him," Quinn dared Puck. "I'll shove that guitar down your throat."

"Mr. Ryan was cool," Sam said. "We worked too long and too hard not to play the show."

Tina shrugged. "Okay, so what are we supposed to do?"

Puck stood up. "We get out of here and play the damn show!"