Chapter 13-Fix You

Author's Notes: I just have to say that the reviews and comments mean the world to me. They make all the work on these chapters worth it. I read them over and over. They give me encouragement when I'm suffering from writer's block. You guys are great!

Warning: Angst ahead, although not overloaded with it. There's just some intense discussion here, but it needed to happen.

"Hey, I think this will be awesome!" Jake exclaimed.

"Yeah, no way we're going to be in the bottom this week. With the steps that you and Mr. Shu came up with, we could definitely win," Ryder agreed. "How did you learn to dance like that?"

"Um, I'm kind of classically trained," Jake answered.

"You mean, like in ballet and stuff," Ryder chuckled.

"Yeah, ballet, hiphop, and jazz."

"Seriously?" Ryder asked. "Man, that's amazing. You're like a real triple threat, aren't you?"

"Well. I want to be a performer. It's all I ever wanted to do. My mom put me in dance and gymnastic when I was five because I was so hyper. Then, I saw a flyer when I was eight for a local production of "The Lion King' at the studio, and I got the role of Simba. I've been performing ever since," Jake said.

"That's great. I'm beat. I think I'm going to head up to our room. We've been rehearsing for two hours. You coming?"

"Are you serious?" Jake gasped. "Crap! What time is it?"

" A few minutes after seven. Why?" Ryder asked.

"I promised Marley that I would help her with her routine," Jake answered.

"Wait, what? You are going to help someone else? Isn't that kinda counterproductive. I mean, we want to win right?"

"Yeah, but Marley is paired with Kitty, and I really think Kitty should go home before Marley. But I don't think she plays fairly. I don't want her psyching out Marley so that she messes up and ends up going home," Jake responded.

Ryder cocked his eyebrow. "Why do you care? Do you like Marley?"

"She's hot, but she's also a great performer. If I had to pick one of the two, I would pick Marley hands down," Jake reasoned. "I think with our talent, she and I could win this."

"That's pretty arrogant of you," Ryder accused.

"Look, it's not really your business? She's waiting on me, so I'll see you later," Jake called, taking a swig of water from his bottle, and he headed out of the room.

Jake sprinted into the dance studio, nearly knocking Marley down in his haste. He reached out and caught her by her arm before she hit the ground. "I'm sorry. Are you ok?" he asked the brunette.

She nodded tentatively.

"Sorry I'm late," he mumbled.

"I thought you forgot," Marley admitted, looking down shyly.

"No, sorry. I was rehearsing with Ryder," he smiled. "I kinda lost track of time. Were you going to bail?"

"Well, I thought maybe you were just offering to help to be nice." Marley sighed. "You don't have to do this. You have your own routine to work on."

"I want to. Have you warmed up yet?" he asked, his chocolate eyes gazing into hers.

"Um, not really," Marley admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. "I guess I should have been doing that while I was waiting, huh?"

"No, it's fine. He led her through basic stretches, his eyes occasionally catching her staring at him, only to look away and blush when he caught her. After the warm up, he helped her up. He noticed a strand of hair had become untucked, so he brushed it behind her ear.

Marley raised her head, her blue eyes showing surprise by the gesture he just performed and because his hand was still touching her face. "I really appreciate this, Jake," she smiled tentatively.

"I know. It's cool. Like I said, though, you would do the same for me. And I was kind of hoping that if one of us won next week, we would get to choose our partners, like they did last week. I really want to be partnered with you again. We sounded amazing last week," Jake said softly.

"I would like that. I think we sounded great too. Your voice is gorgeous," Marley stated shyly, a small blush spreading across her cheeks..

"So is yours. Jake smiled, his hand caressing her cheek gently, causing her to lift her head to see Jake moving in closing the distance between them. He tilted his head slightly, leaning in so that his lips touched hers ever so slightly.

Marley pulled back almost the moment their lips touched. "Wait, Jake we can't, you can't, I s-shouldn't… she said, turning and fleeing from the room."

"Marley, wait. I'm sorry," he sighed, but Marley had already retreated up the stairs. "Damn!"

He slumped down on the wooden floor, pulling in his knees. He rested his head on his knees, so he didn't see Ryder peering into the studio.

Ryder shook his head, and turned quickly to check on Marley.

"What happened to you? Did you sleep draped over the toilet last night?" Santana asked Mrs. July, who was hunched over in a plastic chair in the small room they were directed to "You look like you had a rough night, you know, with you being so sick yesterday."

"Well, how sweet of you to basically tell me I look like crap. You really could benefit from sensitivity training." Cassie commented.

"Well, goodie for me, I get to waste my Saturday with a side helping of that too. After I get schooled on sexually inappropriate behavior, although I think I have been very well behaved on that front," Santana replied. "Besides, I was only checking on you. I thought maybe you had come down with mono or something,"

"Mono? What are you trying to insinuate that I'm some hussy or something? I really think you need to mind your business," Cassie sneered.

"Oh really, because you're a judge on this show, and it seems to me that if you're unable to do your job, that affects me and the other contestants. You couldn't keep your head up, and I thought I would check on you and make sure that you were ok."

"I'm fine. It might be the flu or something," Cassie replied. She walked over to a row of seats and slumped down into a chair.

"You mean like one bottle after another of whiskey flew down your throat. You don't think we know what a hangover looks like? You aren't fooling anybody," sneered Sebastian. "Besides, I saw someone that looked an awful lot like you stumbling out of the pool house the other night. What were you doing there, Ms. July?"

"I think you're imagining things, pretty boy." She hissed, pointing a finger directly in his face. "You need to watch who you mess with. I'm not one of these weak little contestants. You mess with me, you will regret it, you got that, you smug little twit." she whispered menacingly in his ear.

Sebastian stepped backwards, his hands both raised, as if to gesture that he was no threat.

"Well, hello! Let's get started," remarked a smiling Asian man in a sharp suit. "I'm Mr. Wes Montgomery, and I'm an attorney in the legal department. I was told that there were some incidents, and that it might be beneficial to go over some laws about sexual harassment."

"I don't understand why it's just the three of us here. There were some very homophobic slurs and remarks made at me, and I'm the one sitting here," Sebastian fussed, rolling his eyes.

"The reason you are here and they are not, was that they stopped, and you did not. Sexual harassment is not a game. When you continue advances or make sexual comments when the other party clearly does not want them, that is sexual harassment," Wes replied.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Oh please. I don't think I harassed anybody, or did anything sexual at all since I've been here, and that may be the reason I've been so bitchy. Actually, I've had to tell this guy," she said, pointing at Sebastian, "to get his slimy little paws off of one of the contestants on several occasions."

"Santana, according to my notes, you are here regarding comments about kneeing Mr. Smythe in the groin. You also made comments regarding Mr. Smythe becoming a stripper, as well as making other derogatory comments about other contestants' bodies."

"Excuse me, but Kitty made much more lewd comments than I have," Santana commented. "And in those cases, I was defending people that were clearly uncomfortable with this jackass," Santana said in her defence, pointing at Sebastian.

"Kitty is taking sensitively classes, which this course will cover too, but this goes into a little more detail. And I have plenty of evidence that Sebastian belongs here as well, Wesley commented. "Shall I pull the videos?"

"Videos? Which video?" Sebastian asked, his voice squeaking at the end."

"Sounds to me like there is more than one incident, Meerkat," Cassie smirked. "I wouldn't mind seeing what dirt you've collected on him."

"Mrs. July, it seems to me the comment about a bottle shoved up the posterior region was just as bad as comments that Mr. Smythe made," Wes frowned.

"I'd admit, maybe some of the things I said were inappropriate, but I was just messing around. I don't know why some people have to be so uptight," Sebastian remarked. "I'll apologize if I must, but I really think sitting here while you lecture us is a waste of my time. I have better things to do today."

"Well, I have my orders to not dismiss this class until we are clear on some things, so we can sit here and whine about why you don't belong in this class, or you can sit up and participate. This course can last an hour or all day, either is fine with me. I charge by the hour, so go ahead and continue to complain, but I figure you all don't want to waste time. So what do you say? Shall we get started?"

"Fine!" Cassie snorted.

"Whatever! Santana said, her eyes rolling.

"And you?" Wes inquired, searching Sebastian's face.

"By all means, do your thing. Tell me where that line I dare not cross is," he sneered.

"Alright, let's look back to this incident here, and let's talk about the incidents that occurred and what the appropriate course of action would have been."

Wes proceeded to show clips of confrontations Sebastian had had with other contestants in the studio. There was no footage from the house. Was Sue lying when she said she had cameras everywhere?

As Wes wrapped up the training, Sebastian let out a sigh of relief. Sue didn't release the video of him and Hunter, if there was a video. He knew of the audio recording of him admitting to falsifying information and he knew there were pictures of him and Hunter. He knew Sue said she had bugged the house, so he knew that Sue had videos of some of the confrontations that he had with other contestants, but he didn't think Sue would actually use them against him. This was her way of sending him a warning. He had better play nice, at least to everyone's face. Or it was possible that Sue was lying before, and Sebastian had more of an upper hand than he had thought.

Blaine shifted nervously in Mr. Figgins office. "Now Blaine, we need you to tell us exactly what is happening," he urged.

"Blaine, please. We can't help unless we know what has happened," urged Emma.

"I really don't want to get someone else in trouble," Blaine frowned.

"Blaine, if you are being harassed by someone, it needs to be addressed and stopped, but we need to know to what extent this has gotten to. What has Sebastian done?" Mr. Shuester asked, his face gentle and kind.

"He just won't take no for an answer," Blaine sighed.

Carmen looked worried. "I'm afraid you are going to have to elaborate here, Mr. Anderson. We need to know if his advances have been verbal or have they turned physical. Has he tried to force himself on you?"

Blaine looked horrified. "No, no. I mean, he's touched my arm, and he has little respect for personal space, but it's mostly just these little comments, like about me being sexy. He has made comments about wanting to perform sexual acts together, but I think he's kidding."

Mr. Shuester shook his head. "Blaine, whether he is joking or not, they are highly inappropriate. We have taken measures to handle this situation, and he makes any more advances toward you at all, you need to tell one or all of us immediately."

"And don't worry. We have the rooming thing handled. Sebastian will have his own room," Emma stated. "And the mentors and I are moving into the house. We will have to do some rearranging, but there is space there. We will make it happen. That way, if he does make an advance, you can inform us immediately before it gets out of hand."

"But he is still a contestant?" Blaine questioned, his face still showing signs of frustration.

"As of right now, yes. He does owe you, Sam, Artie, and a few others a major apology, and we will be observing him closely. However, we do want to give him a second chance," Mr. Figgins explained.

"Blaine, is there anything else?" Carmen asked. "Something you aren't telling us, perhaps?"

"I'm worried about Sam being his duet partner. There were some things said by Sebastian to Sam, and it really hurt him."

"We've talked to Sam, and he said that he will do the duet with Sebastian. There will be someone there watching every rehearsal and exchange, I promise. If anything looks awry, we will deal with it firmly and swiftly," Carmen promised. "We won't allow him to do anything to hurt Sam. We think it's admirable that you are sticking up for him."

"There's no way that I could sing with Sam?" Blaine inquired. "I mean there's enough time to change it, right?"

"I'm sorry Blaine, but I don't think we can do that. If we swapped you and Sebastian, that would pair Sebastian with Artie, and there is some tension there too," Mr. Schuester explained. "Let's just see what we can do ok."

Santana was frustrated. She just had to sit in on an hour long sexual harassment seminar . She could admit that she had crossed the line with a few comments. All she wanted to do was relax, but now they had to meet at the studio in an hour for the team building activity. She rolled her eyes. This was a competition. She didn't want to play nice, especially not with Sebastian.

She collapsed on the bed, exhausted, and she just wanting to say to hell with everything.

"Ouch!"

Santana jumped up, and Brittany scrambled out of the duvet that she had pulled over her.

"What are you doing in my bed, Brittany?" She looked at Brittany's face, which was streaked with tears and mascara. Santana's tone softened immediately. "Brittany, are you ok?"

"I'm sorry. I was lonely, and I miss Lord Tubbington, my cat. I would have laid in my own bed, but your blanket is warmer," she sobbed.

"It's ok, Brittany," Santana said soothingly, crawling on the bed next to the blonde and embracing her in a hug. Truth be told, this wasn't the first time they had ended up in bed together, although usually they just laid there talking until one or both of them fell asleep.

"Santana, I'm scared. They're going to come look for me. They are going to find me and bring me back there. I don't want to go back, ever."
"Back where, Brit." Santana asked.

"MIT. I hate it there. I snuck out of my window. They were forcing me to prove some math code, and it made me have headaches, and none of it made any sense," sobbed the blonde. "Right now, we aren't on tv yet, but when the show starts, everyone will see me and they'll know I'm here, Santana."

Santana placed a small kiss to Brittany's forehead. "It's ok, Britt. As long as I'm here, I won't let anyone steal you away from me. You are my friend." She stroked Brittany's hair gently.

"You promise?" Brittany sniffled.

"I promise. I will always protect you." Santana caressed Brittany's face, cupping it, as she ran her thumb across her cheeks. Brittany's eyes locked with hers, and Santana leaned in, brushing her lips gently against the dancer's soft, pink lips..

"Hey, are we allowed to do that?" Brittany asked, pulling back abruptly. "I thought we weren't allowed to date anyone on the show."

"Kissing isn't dating. And besides, we're both girls. They meant that the girls can't have sex with the boys. They didn't say anything about us," Santana explained to the blonde, whose beautiful blue eyes were searching her own. Santana hesitated a moment, thinking back to the sexual harassment training she just attended. It wasn't crossing the line if the behavior was consented. "It's ok, Britt," Santana assured her nervous friend.

"Oh, ok," she smiled, and leaned in, pressing their lips together again.

Inside, Santana's mind was going mad with thousands of thoughts and scenarios. What if they got caught? What if there were cameras in the room, although that was highly unlikely. If they had, they would have used it in the training. And so, she gave in, kissing the adorable blonde, tangled up together in her bed, forgetting everyone and everything else.

Blaine was puzzled when Ms. Pillsbury told him to come to the rehearsal stage for their team building activity. What were they going to be doing? Blaine felt anxiety wash over him as he thought about having to bear his soul to a bunch of people that he barely knew. Blaine remembered the things that the Warblers did in order to bond with each other; a week long camping trip, including kayaking down the river, assembling tents in the rain, and repealing down a steep cliff. Their leader said it would help them learn to rely on a team and develop trust in each other, and he had been right. It had helped them bond as a team.

Blaine plodded into the room, his shoulders slumped, but he tried to perk up. His eyes searched the room looking for evidence of what they would be doing. He saw a podium with sheet music, various instruments, including a piano, and microphones. He didn't know what kind of team building exercise they would be doing, but after spending his time discussing the whole Sebastian situation, he really didn't want to be in the same room with him. And he was still unsure of where things stood with Sam.

"Blaine, over here!" called Finn. He was standing in front of the stage with Artie, and Sam. "We wondered how you were, man. We didn't see you in that sensitivity class. That was weird," Finn said was a dopey smile.

"I'm sorry you guys had to do that. I feel like a lot of this was my fault."

"Are you kidding? This was all Sebastian's fault," Finn replied. "He's the one who won't leave you alone. You didn't ask for it. We're all as tired of it as you are. I don't regret standing up for you, even though I do admit I lost my cool. I can't stand people mistreating others for things they can't help."

"I really do appreciate it, Finn, but I want to be a little more proactive about this from now on, and I don't want you guys to be dragged into it all," Blaine spoke softly. "And Sam, I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have…"

Blaine was cut off by Sam's arms hugging him swiftly, patting his shoulder for comfort. "It's cool man. I'm not mad. Ms. Pillsbury told me the reason you were going to let him room with us, and I understand. They worked it out. It looks like it will be the four of us together."

"That's a relief. And you guys don't mind rooming with me?"

"Of course not. You're awesome, Yo! And there's no way we're letting you room with Sebastian after everything he said. I can't believe that he's allowed to stay in the competition," Artie commented.

"From what I understand, he may not be. He's supposed to apologize to everyone. Even though he used some slurs, I did too. What I said wasn't any better than what he said," Finn said, the shame apparent in his voice.

"Finn, you were sticking up for your friends," Sam reminded him. "I think the judges understand that. Let's just move on. It'll be ok," Sam smiled at the tall man.

"Thanks, dudes," Finn smiled.

Blaine smiled, and his eyes skirted across the room, stopping on Sebastian, sitting by himself, his arms crossed. Blaine hurriedly looked away, still unsure at how much was said to Sebastian about the conversation Blaine had with the mentors earlier that day. Things were already bad enough between them. He definitely didn't want to make it worse. He thought back to his discussion with Kurt. He hoped that Kurt was wrong, but he was afraid that the fair skinned boy was absolutely right.

Blaine allowed his focus to land Ms. Beiste, who had lugged in an easel and sat it down towards the back of the stage. The contestants continued to talk until Mr Schuester removed the lid from an expo marker and preceded to write on a easel one word:

Acceptance

"Ok everyone, listen up," Mr. Schuester announced. "After the sensitivity class today, we realized that there were a lot of issues. I know that you were all thrust together suddenly, with no real chance to get to know each other, and now you have to live together and perform with one another, and your personalities are clashing. However, I think we all see 16 amazing, talented individuals that could all achieve great things in life. However, this competition will require you working together, and get along. Some of you have adjusted better than others."

"We also noticed that you all have musical talent, which can unite you, but you are all different as well," Shelby stated. "Those differences are what make you unique, special. But they are also the thing that some of you feel most insecure about. Now, we know that you are all getting makeovers, and I think that is great. It's perfectly fine to make little changes or adjustments to help express to the world who you are."

"But there will be things that the stylists won't be able to change, because you were born that way." Emma said gently. "And there are other things about you that can't change either, even though you may wish that you could. Those may be quirks that you consider to be personality flaws, emotional or physical scars left from experiences, or behaviors that you have struggled to change but you have been unable to do so."

Mr. Corcoran continued. "We have decided to share those experiences, not to reveal weakness or flaws, but to explore our own personal strengths and victories in spite of these flaws or defects. This will be ongoing, and it will be twofold. Every week we will meet like this in here to share music and experiences. We will develop a group number, or possibly two, to perform on the show that reflects what we have taken from this experience.

Ms Pillsbury smiled assuredly. "This is a safe zone. There will be no judgement, no insults. Nothing leaves this room."

"We have a song prepared to sing for you today, because we can't ask you to do something that we aren't willing to do ourselves," Mr. Shuester explained. "Afterwards, we will discuss what the song means to us, how it connects to the experiences you've had, and how those experiences affected you, if you are willing to share. We have the instruments on the stage because we heard that several of you play. Blaine, I remember you playing the piano in one of your auditions. Would you play for us?"

"Sure, what are we playing?" Blaine smiled.

Will handed him the sheet music. "I know Sam, Artie, and Puck play guitar. Finn, you play the drums. Boys, how about helping us out?" The boys all nodded and grabbed the sheet music from Mr. Schuester. "The rest of you, I would love for you to sing with us."

Artie smiled. "I love this song, but is there any way I could just sing this one, and not play. I'm a little rusty."

"Sure, Artie." Will smile. "Everyone, come join us on stage." Blaine's fingered gently started playing the melody. Will began singing softly.

Will:

When you try your best but you don't succeed

When you get what you want but not what you need

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse

.

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

.

Will with Artie:

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try

.

Will:

To fix you

.

Will with New Directions:

Tears stream down on your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down on your face

And I

.

Tears stream down on your face

I promise you that I will learn from my mistakes

Tears stream down on your face

And I

.

Will:

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

.

The mentors sat down and motioned for the contestants to join them in a circle. Emma had tears streaming down her face. Shelby gently touched her shoulder. Tina, Ryder, Brittany, Quinn, and Marley were also crying. They sat in relative silence for a few moments before anyone spoke.

"Acceptance," Emma's voice quivered. "I don't like to talk about it a lot, but have OCD. And for a long time, I thought I was in control of it. But in all truth, it was controlling me. I was engaged, but I left him at the alter. I couldn't do it. It didn't feel perfect, and I panicked. It took some dear friends to confront me about it."

She continued. "I know that we all have insecurities, things about ourselves that we wish we could change or things we are working to fix about ourselves. I'm in therapy. And I'm happy, for the first time in a long time. After hearing about the conversation about changing yourselves, I thought about it. We all have things we want to fix about ourselves. Some of those things are easier than others."

Shelby started passing around markers and a piece of paper. "We want you to write down something you want to change, to fix. It can be anything. A relationship, a habit, a physical thing. Write it down. Then, we will share. It you don't want to elaborate, you don't have to, but know that we are here to listen."

Each of the contestants wrote something on their paper. Brittany asked a few of the contestants to trade markers so that she could write her words in different colors. Sniffles could be heard, but it was still strangely silent.

"Does anyone want to share?" inquired Will.

Artie turned his paper around.

I want to dance.

"Some people take it for granted. I did. Walking. I wasn't born this way. It was a car accident when I was eight. I used to think it was so unfair. Ms. Pillsbury, people don't look at you immediately and see your disability. None of us knew. Everyone notices immediately with me, and they don't let me forget that I am different. All through high school, I watched others perform. I was in my glee club, but we didn't dance because the director didn't want to make me feel bad. So instead, we were stationary while the other clubs around us continually defeated us with their elaborate dance numbers. Most people didn't say anything, but I knew they blamed me. They even hired a choreographer to work with us once, to see if he could help us and choreograph numbers that I could do with the chair. I overheard telling the director just to cut me. I almost quit."

"Artie, I know how you feel," stated Quinn. "I was in a chair. I was in a car accident. My fiance left me after he realized how bad it was. They told him I may never be able to walk. With a lot of hard work and great physical therapists, I did start walking again, but it was a struggle. And I hated the way that people treated me. Some people that I had known my whole life just cried when I tried to talk to them. Or they just wouldn't come to see me at all. And there was awkward silence when they said something, like asking me to take a walk with them or something. It felt like nothing would ever be the same again." Mercedes patted her hand, and Sam smiled at her from across the room."

"I'm dyslexic." Sam said softly, turning his paper over to show the single word. "I think some of you noticed that when we had to read the contracts. I struggled in school. I got called stupid on several occasions. It was difficult. I wished that I could find the cure for it so that I was just as smart as everyone else."

Ryder nodded. " I get that completely. I'm dyslexic too. My dad has a PHD, and I was struggling in high school. My teachers told me I just needed to work harder. It was so frustrating. I ended up dropping out of extracurricular activities, including Glee, so that I could focus on my studies. I graduated with a less than average gpa, which made it hard to get into the school I wanted to attend. I hoped to get a football scholarship, but the recruiters didn't think I was good enough. I ended up in junior college, but I often feel like I've let my dad down." Sam reached over and patted Ryder's arm.

Blaine turned his card over, revealing it to Ryder.

Relationship with father

"My father is an important man too," Blaine said, looking at Ryder. We had a good relationship, until I came out. After that, we got closer for awhile. It was like he was trying to spend all of this time with me. We built a car together in the driveway. We took a fencing class together. We joined a father son baseball league together. Then, I overheard him telling my brother that this gay thing was just a phase. That I would grow out of it. It turns out that he thought he could turn me straight."

A tear rolled down Santana's cheek. "Did he disown you too?" she asked.

"Not officially," Blaine replied. "But I left. We barely talk. I live with my brother."

"Me too," Jake nodded. Puck and I have the same father, and he doesn't have a relationship with either one of us."

Puck nodded. "He tracks me down to ask me for money sometimes. I give it to him, and he disappears again." He turned to Santana. "You said too? Did someone disown you?"

"My abuela. We were close. I thought I could tell her anything. So I came out to her, and she told me that she couldn't have a gay granddaughter, and that I was no longer welcome in her home. She helped raise me, and then she wanted nothing to do with me."

Rachel flipped over her card.

Relationship with mother

"I'm adopted. I have two wonderful dads. But sometimes, I wish I knew who my mother was. My dads are amazing, but sometimes, I just wish I had the opportunity to meet her. I mean she must have been amazing, to have such a talented daughter."

Kitty rolled her eyes.

"Hey, this is supposed to be a safe place." said Tina. "No judgements, Kitty."

"Please, she's whining about living in a loving home with two supportive parents that probably provided her with everything she's ever needed."

"You can scoff at her, but what did you write down? Because it doesn't seem like you've had any problem hoisting that nose in the air around everyone else."

"They said we didn't have to share, and I'd rather not. My life isn't picture perfect, but I agree with what Santana said before. If you have something about yourself you don't like, you should change it. Isn't that right, Lucy."

"Lucy, who's Lucy?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I meant Quinn. My mistake. You just remind me of somebody that I used to know. You look very similar, except she was like 100 pounds overweight. The poor girl. I guess someone should have steered her away from the Cheetos. It looks like you don't have that issue."

"That's really mean," Marley accused. "You should never make comments about somebody's weight."

"And why is that Marley? You're a frickin' bean pole."

"I was bullied in high school," Marley said softly.

"For your weight? Kitty's right. You're thin," Sam said.

"My mother worked at the school, and she struggles with her weight."

"That picture in your room? That's your mom?" Kitty asked.

"Yeah. When they found out who she was, they taunted me relentlessly."

"I have issues with my weight too," replied Tina. "I'm not a size two. I design my clothes to accentuate my assets. I feel better about it now, but it was difficult for awhile."

"I know how Tina and Marley feel," Mercedes admitted. "I joined the cheer squad in high school. The coach pushed me to lose weight. I was starving myself to get down to the weight she expected. I ended up quitting the squad after I fainted at a pep rally. I lost some of the weight, but I never was as skinny of some of the other girls in my school. I always felt self conscious."

"I think you're beautiful," Sam blurted, smiling and blushing when he realized that he had said that out loud. Mercedes returned his smile and looked away.

"I'm proud of all of you for sharing. That takes a lot of courage." complimented Ms. Pillsbury.

"What about you, Sebastian?"

He turned over his card. It was blank. "I don't have anything I want to fix. Maybe some of us are completely content with ourselves. Maybe your little public schools didn't make you feel so great about yourselves, but I'm perfectly content with myself. It's some of you I wish I could fix."

"Seriously, you're still being a jerk. After all of this?" Santana said, her voice blaring.

"What? She said to share what we wanted to change. Is it my fault that I'm already at the point all the rest of you desire," Sebastian smirked.

Will shook his head. "You never had anything you felt anxious about?"

"Fine, I'll play. I'm a pre-law major at Stanford, like my dad wants. I'm a double major. I want to major in performance arts, but dad will only pay my tuition if I get a law degree. He's a state's attorney, but he has his own practice that he wants me to take over when I graduate. I have no desire to work in that stifling place. It's like what Blaine was saying earlier. I do have to apologize, Blaine. I guess I was coming on too strong before. I just felt like we had a connection, like we had something in common."

Blaine shook his head. "It's fine."

"It's not," Finn objected. "Blaine how could you just let him get away with that."

"I didn't say everything is fine," Blaine answered. "But I do get what he's saying about his father."

"I think you should be thankful that you have a father. I never knew mine." Finn commented.

"Finn," Mr. Shuester said softly. "I'm sorry. You can share, if you'd like, or you don't have to."

"My Dad was a soldier. I don't know much about him other than that he died when I was a baby shortly after he returned home," Finn replied. "But I always dreamed about him."

Rachel's eyes met Finn's. See, you understand what I was saying about not knowing my Mom, then."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"Brittany, you worked a long time on your card. Did you want to share?" asked Emma.

The blonde turned her card over.

"JENYUS!"

The contestants each stared at the card, glancing at each other with confused faces.

"Um, Brittany, would you read it to us?" suggested Emma.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes, I forget how much smarter I am than everyone else. That says I'm a genius. But I wish I could fix that. My school only wants me there to solve their problems, but I just want to dance. There's no time for that there," she sighed. Santana smiled softly at her. Santana extended her pinky out, and Brittany wrapped hers around it, smiling gently.

"I think we've made great progress today," Emma smiled. "We have a group number we're going to practice, and we'll do it on the show."

"I chose this song because it's one of the most inspiring songs of all time, and I sing it myself sometimes," Mr. Shuester explained. He started passing around sheet music. "Whatever it is that you want to fix, I hope that you never quit believing that it can get better."

"Who's going to take the lead on this," asked Rachel shrilly.

"All of you," Will responded.

After a rigorous rehearsal, the contestants were chatting with each other. Santana and Brittany headed out the door, pinkies once again linked. Sebastian looked curiously. He had caught on that Santana was attracted to the blonde, but Brittany hadn't seemed to reciprocate any kind of romantic feelings until today. They just seemed closer, like they had a greater connection than before.

"Blaine, Blaine! He called out to the shorter man. "Please, Could we talk?"

"Sebastian, I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, everyone else has left, and we weren't really on the best of terms."

"I just wanted you to know that my apology earlier was sincere. I really am sorry. I was way too aggressive, and I should have respected you when you asked me to stop. You were right. I was being an ass. I'm aggressive in nature. I think it's part of my upbringing by Mr. Smythe. He doesn't take no for an answer. That's the reason he's as successful as he is. But he also has a lot of enemies. And I realized, today, that I do too. I don't want you to be one of them. Truce?" the green eyed man asked sincerely.

"It depends," Sebastian. "What are your terms?"

"It's not like that. The room arrangement is void, ok. And Sam's secret is safe. I have my own room now, so you don't have to worry about my unwanted advances," Sebastian assured him, offering him his hand.

"What's with the change of heart?" Blaine eyed him suspiciously.

"That sexual harassment class was intense, man. It made me see the error of my ways. But, I meant it when I said we have some things in common. Two gay men with disappointed fathers. I know what it's like to feel like I'll never meet his impossible expectations." he sighed. "What I said about my father was the absolute truth. My old man is an ass. I guess I turned into him, even though I was fighting so hard for the opposite result." Sebastian said with a frown.

"I doubt that. It looks like you are trying to make amends. And if you ever need someone to talk to, you know about pressures your old man puts on you, I'll listen. See, I knew there was good guy in there somewhere," Blaine smiled.

"Thank you, for giving me a second chance. You're a great guy. I might take you up on that talk." he grinned, leaning in for a hug. Blaine obliged, and Sebastian wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck. He might have hung on a few seconds too long, because he felt Blaine shift uncomfortably. "Sorry. I'm just happy that you forgave me."

"Sebastian, the other guys, Sam, Artie, Finn. I hope that you make amends with them too. They're great guys. You just got off on the wrong foot."

"Don't worry, Blaine. I'll fix this. Thank you." Sebastian said with a wink. "No doubt about that. See you, man."

"You aren't coming?" Blaine asked.

Sebastian shook his head. "That group number was a little more confusing than I thought. I'm going to stick around here and rehearse"

"Hey, do you want me to stay and assist you. We could rehearse together," Blaine offered.

"No, man. It's fine. I'll get it. You've had a long day. I'll see you later. But thank you," Sebastian smiled.

As he watched Blaine head for the exit door, Sebastian's eye caught something sticking out of the waste basket. He needed to retrieve his card. His card wasn't actually blank. He just quickly flashed it so that he showed the blank side. He found his card quickly, with the intent to shred it immediately upon returning to the house. It was then that he realized that some of the contestants probably did the exact same thing. He remembered only seeing five people turn their cards over. The rest had said their issue, but they didn't actually show the card. He started thumbing through them, and he did see some of the ones that were mentioned.

Dyslexic

Relationship with Father

Overweight

But then he saw a few that he could really use.

Bulemic

Sexual Abuse Victim

Unrequited Love

And there was more. This was as good as gold. However, most of them didn't have names. Sebastian thought back to his meeting with Carmen Tibbideaux after his seminar that morning. She emitted this hard, tough vibe, but she was soft. She had warned him that this was his final chance. Her words rang through his head.

"Mr. Hummel expressed his desire to return to the show, and we wish that we could allow him to return. He doesn't want to take the spot form Ryder, but I have no problem giving him yours if anything like this ever happens again. Is that clear, Mr. Smythe."

"Crystal clear, Maddam," Sebastian nodded. The old broad bought it. Now, he had the information that Sue was wanting from him, and possibly to use in case the need arose later. He would have to be careful, and mind his comments. He did believe that they would dismiss him if he was caught. The solution was easy. He just needed to play sides, and he was well on his way.

"What are you doing," Blaine demanded. "Stop!"

"What? You agreed that we needed to get revenge on the douchebag. This was the plan. If we weight his stuff down enough, then it won't be easy to get it from the bottom of the pool. It's genius man," Puck grinned mischievously.

"Don't do it. I talked with the guy, and he apologized. I think he's sincere," Blaine reasoned.

"Gullible," coughed Jake.

"No, seriously, I think he means it. You didn't see his face," Blaine argued.

"Did it kind of look like this?" Puck said, his lip protruding out in a cheesy pout.

"No, his didn't make him look like a constipated bulldog," Blaine laughed.

"So much for all the rationale that Blaine didn't need the sensitivity classes because he was already so gentlemanly, and all," chuckled Puck. "Seriously, though. You bought his story?"

"I believe in giving people second chances, don't you?" Blaine asked.

"Well, I'm grateful to the people that do, because make-up sex is awesome," Puck blurted.

"Yeah, pity the poor girl that believes in fourth and fifth chances. That's all you'll have to offer her," Jake chuckled.

"Hey, you talk like that's a bad thing. I'll have you know I don't get complaints in the bedroom," Puck commented.

""No, but we share a wall, and you have to admit that I can get them to put on a better production for me than you," Jake smirked.

"Are you seriously trying to say you are better in bed than I am? Please, little brother, I've heard girl's scream out my name when they were with you."

"Ugh! TMI!" Blaine yelled.

"Oh gosh, Finn chuckled. "You shared a wall. I shared a dorm room in college. I had to basically put a sleeping bag in the RA's room because the Puckasaurus slept with all the girls at Ohio State."

"And a few of the professors," Puck bragged. "So are we doing this or not?"

"No, let's give him a second chance. Let's just get mine and Sam's stuff moved into your room. I'm tired."

"Fine," he huffed. "You really are too nice."

"A real Disney Prince is what Tina called him," Sam teased. "She said we could really learn something from him."

"How to be a sucker?" laughed Jake.

"I think it's nice of him to forgive him like that," Ryder commented. "Besides, we might end up being paired up with him eventually, and so we need to make nice."

"Fine," huffed Puck, setting down the suitcase full of Sebastian's thing. "But don't grumble at me if this comes back to bite you in the ass. Although you might like that, seeing as you're into all of that kinky boy sex."

Blaine blushed.

"Careful boys, or you might have to be subjected to the delightfully entertaining commentaries by our authority on sexual harassment. I can let Madam Tibideaux know that some other boys are needing the course as well," teased Sebastian. "By the way, thanks for packing my things. I'm shocked it's not floating in the pool."

"Nah, Puck saw that as counterproductive since he would have to drain it and clean it to get everything out of it," laughed Jake.

"Yeah, and seeing as they won't pay me to do it, it's not worth the hassle," laughed Puck.

"Don't you mean Hasslehoff," laughed Sam.

The other guys stared at him. "Uh no!"

"Come on, David Hasslehoff. He was a lifeguard. On Baywatch," Sam stared at them dumbfounded. "It's a pool joke. It's funny," Sam said with a smile.

"Oh, I get it. The Baywatch guy. Funny," laughed Sebastian. "So Sam, Finn, Artie, I really am sorry about everything. I was out of line. I hope that you all can accept my apology," he said.

"Sam gave him a fistbump and then, Finn shook his hand.

Artie nodded reluctantly. "Fine, but if it happens again, I won't protest marooning your clothes at the bottom of the pool," he smirked.

"Fair enough," Sebastian said. "Well, let me help you guys move this stuff. I'm tired, and I'll actually sleep well tonight, without Finn's snoring and Artie's teeth grinding," he joked.

"Man, it's better than what you do in your sleep." Finn laughed. "Whatever you do, don't touch the box of tissues over there. And I'm not going to even ask what that was in the drawer, man."

Author's Notes: This chapter is long, and I apologize for no Kurt appearances in this chapter. I promise large doses of Klaine in the next chapter.

I am watching the poll results, and I hope you know I added in some subtle interactions between some of the desired couples. I also tried to feature some of the characters you voted for. I know some of you wanted Elliot and Niff, and I promise you, they are coming. Elliot will be featured heavily in the next chapter, and he isn't going anywhere in this story, so no fear. All I have to say is wait until the next chapters for makeovers, and you will hopefully get the interactions you so desperately crave.

There's a new poll up. I'm not going to post all of the duets for the first pairing (This is already long, and if I included every duet, it will drag things out even more.) So I'll feature a few, and mention a few. They may be featured in a practice session over the next few chapters. The songs are on the poll (so if you take it, you'll get a sneak peek of what everyone is singing. I love hearing from you. Have a great week.