Honestly I didn't feel like uploading yesterday.
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NJPNJPNJP
Mercedes shut the door behind herself. "So how are we going to tell everyone?"
"Everyone?" Marcy took off her shoes.
"Well we have to tell everyone that we were just signed to a record label."
"No, we don't."
"Why are you so closed off?!"
"I think you should tell Britt and Tana but that's it until things are a bit more final."
"What about Artie?" Quinn pressed.
Marcy pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "I guess."
Mercedes smiled. "Does this mean you forgive him?"
"No!"
Mercedes pulled a long face as Quinn laughed. "Fine. They should be here by now-"
Barking sounded as yellow to silver colored dogs entered the foyer followed by a black dog and a white puppy.
Quinn picked up a puppy. "Aww! I'm going to miss when you give them away!"
"When is that?" Mercedes picked up another.
Marcy shrugged as she petted the last one. "Pretty soon. Mickey is getting anxiety over when we do and I gotta get her over this as soon as possible."
"You don't have to give them away."
"Stop it. I do so. I can't have six dogs in this house. I just got the stink out from their pooping inside and this is not happening again."
"Because Secret's already fixed?" Quinn posed.
"Thank everything!"
"What about Ecru?" Mercedes asked.
Ecru barked at hearing his name.
Mercedes bent to pet him. "Are you fixed, boy?"
Marcy huffed. "I don't think so but when he gets a bit bigger, he's definitely taking that trip downtown."
"Are you going to fix the triplets?"
"They're not my problem."
"I feel bad for Mickey. She's going to miss them so much."
Marcy stood up. "She's two."
"You missed Greece for a really long time."
"I got over it."
"After two years."
"I got over it."
Quinn set her puppy down. "Let's just find Tana and Britt. We'll talk about Marcy keeping the puppies later."
"I'm not keeping these flea bitten mongrels!"
Mercedes set her puppy on the floor and followed Quinn deeper into the house.
Marcy threw her hands up and followed. "I need a drink…"
Quinn checked the den and saw Bartana was waiting for them patiently. Rather two thirds of it was waiting patiently. Santana was salty about waiting when she had other things going on.
"What took you so long?! I do have a job, you know!" The fiery Latina spat.
"And you want to sing with that?" Marcy shook her head.
"That?!" Santana spat as Brittany frowned in confusion. "Sing?"
Artie smirked at the insult, which made his saucy brunette girlfriend punch him in the chest. He wheezed. "That's not nice, BT!"
"Stop being such a prig and listen. Mercy did something extremely nice for you. I wouldn't have done it." Marcy couldn't care less about his feelings.
"Me either." Quinn sat on a couch.
"Stop it, guys!" Mercedes frowned at them. "Yes, you would!"
"You see we didn't." Marcy climbed on a couch and sat on the armrest with her feet on the seat.
Mercedes' eyes widened as she realized they hadn't. "Well!"
"What'd you do?" Brittany asked.
"I bet it sucks." Santana just wanted to be contrary.
"You know what?!" Mercedes put her hands on her hips.
"Uh oh! You got MJ mad." Artie taunted his molten hot tempered baby mama.
Santana stuck her bottom lip out. "Don't be mad, Aretha. Tell us what you did."
"I got you a recording contract!" Mercedes exclaimed spiritedly.
"What?" The trio was stupefied.
"What part of that was the foreign concept?" Marcy asked.
Mercedes hit her as Quinn giggled behind her hand. "We saw an exec today and I talked him into signing me as a group and I told him about you two and how I wanted to be a group with you. He said we had to come back tomorrow and sing together and if we impress him, he'll sign you two as well!"
"A real record exec?" Santana wanted to make sure.
"Yes, you bad girl! We already looked over the contracts and it's a good deal. Even after Marcy went through it with a fine tooth comb."
"Is this real?" Brittany couldn't believe it. "We're really going to be singers?"
"No, Britt." Santana rolled her eyes. "They've been taken. Nobody's going to sign nobodies and have it be in their favor."
"Who are you? me?" Marcy smirked.
"Stop that right now!" Brittany yelled, eyes and fists clenched. "We're doing this! If Sadie says she's looking out for us and we get to sing, we're doing it!"
"Britt,-" Santana tried.
"I don't want to hear anything coming out of your mouth but "Thank you, Sadie."!"
Santana almost burst into tears. As it were, her voice was thick with unshed ones. "Thank you, Wheezy."
"You're welcome. Don't cry." Mercedes kissed her cheek. "We got to pick a song that highlights us well and try to come up with a bit of choreography."
"But we're big as houses." Brittany rubbed her large stomach.
"Lucy and Marcy danced up until they gave birth in glee."
Both smiled.
"Don't shake my babies aloose." Artie teased.
Brittany's mouth rounded.
"He's joking, Britt." Marcy said.
"Oh. So this will be okay?"
"Yes." Mercedes nodded. "I'm thinking maybe some Adele?"
"I love that!"
"Humph!" Santana refused to get excited until she met this man.
"You know you can't tell anybody, right?" Marcy folded her legs.
"Why?"
"Because it's no one's business and things are still up in the air."
"Why exactly am I here?" Artie asked. "Because I'm their boyfriend?"
"Not quite." Quinn shook her head. "We want you to produce our albums."
His eyes widened. "What?!"
"Yes."
"Me?!"
"Yes."
He stared at her, his mouth hanging open.
"Yes."
He snapped his mouth shut. "But I don't know anything about producing an album!"
"You're a master beat maker and you know music like you know your body." Marcy said. "Besides you're going to have help. For Mercy and your girls, I'm going to help and Mr. Gunn said he'd reach out to Timbaland."
"You're going to have thee Timbaland produce your record?!"
Mercedes smiled. "Yes!"
"You act like you can't hold your own with Timbaland." Marcy scoffed. "The man is a genius but so are you."
"Thanks, Boo Thang." Artie meant that.
"You should be thanking her." Quinn smirked. "It was all her idea. We didn't think to add anything to our contracts until she got to talking."
"And you thought of me?" Artie was touched, then ashamed as he thought about what he'd done. "I gotta say I'm sorry, BT. For the prank-"
"You ain't seen sorry." Marcy rearranged herself so she could cross her legs.
"You're still going to get me back."
"Yup."
He was not looking forward to that but knew it was well deserved. "I'll take those lumps. Do I gotta keep the producing a secret, too?"
"Yeah. For a while at least."
"Are you going to tell Mal and Ellen?"
"Mal, yes; Ellen, no."
"Why not?" Brittany pouted.
"She can't hold water. I'm just telling Mikey and Mal. Not even Rou. Not yet."
Mercedes nodded. "This has to be a secret."
M-A-P
Mercedes, Santana and Brittany breathed heavily from dancing and singing. After singing a mashup of Adele's hits, Someone Like You and Rumor Has It, they sung Christina Aguilera's Candyman.
Percy smiled. "Welcome to Protest, girls!"
M-A-P
Sam opened the door before the doorman could. "Thanks anyway, Frank."
Frank nodded to him.
"You have a doorman?" Sam's study partner, Tyrone Baxter looked all around the interior.
"Yeah. You have to sign in." Sam pointed to security.
Tyrone whistled lowly before going over to security. As with all guests, he had to sign his name and provide proof of identity.
Sam waited for him before continuing to the elevator. They got on and rode up to the third floor. Sam went to his door and began unlocking it when a woman exited with her dog (that never touched the ground).
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Knight." Sam said politely.
She raised her nose. "Good afternoon, Samuel. Please tell Michael that Snookums flushed another toy."
"I will."
"Hi." Tyrone said.
"Hello." She eyed him before getting on the elevator.
Sam opened the door and they went inside. "I would have introduced you but she's not very nice. She has a problem with poor people."
"You're obviously not poor." Tyrone tried not to be nosy but he was from Queensbridge.
"I have a bit of money saved up but it's not a lot-" Sam realized he meant the house. "Oh no. My roommate is the rich one. Me and the other one rent rooms from him."
"Why? Obviously he doesn't need the money. Is he way older than you?"
"A year. He just wanted us as roommates cuz we're friends. We met in high school."
"I never come up this way. How is it living here then?"
"It's really expensive. I don't do anything in this neighborhood unless it's with my friends." Sam led the way to the den. "Are you hungry?"
"Oh yeah. You probably got good food."
Sam threw his backpack onto a couch and took out his phone to text Mike and Blaine. Both answered but neither were home. "Do you want snacks or do you want food?"
"I'll take what ya got but I want food. I haven't eaten since yesterday. College life, man."
Sam thought about it. He saw Marcy twice a day every day but she hadn't spoken two words to him since the prank. She hadn't even looked at him. Should he call her? He dialed her number.
She surprisingly picked up and he realized he had to talk. "Hey?"
"What?" She demanded.
"I'm here with a friend and-" This was going to sound stupid. "We're hungry-"
"What?!"
"I'm sorry! I didn't know who else to call. I know Mercy's at work right now and Santana and Quinn will *not* cook for me and I don't know where Kurt is and no one else knows how to cook."
It was quiet for a while before, "I'll be there in ten."
"Really?! Oh thank you, Marcy!"
She hung up.
"Hello?" He blushed as Tyrone stared at him. "Yeah! I'll talk to you when you get here. Bye!" He put away his phone. "She'll be here in ten minutes."
Tyrone lifted a brow. "So who was that?"
"A friend." Sam hoped.
"Uh huh."
"Let's get to work on our project." Sam didn't want to explain how he was probably the worst friend in existence.
Pretty soon they were deep into their project and didn't hear anything.
"What does that do?" Marcy asked softly.
Both boys reacted terribly, screaming high-pitched and loud.
She straightened from her lean on the back of the couch. "Wow. You could be James Brown's grandson."
"Marcy, you scared us!" Sam felt weak.
She just stared at him.
He tried to stop his chest from heaving. "Bruce, this is Tyrone. Ty is my partner in class and we're working on a project together."
Marcy looked him over. He was pretty cute, even if he had a stereotypical name. "Marcy."
Tyrone reached out a hand to shake hers but she stared at it then his face blankly.
"Oh no!" Sam waved his hands. "Tony doesn't touch people!"
"Tony?" Tyrone was confused.
"I call her Tony or Bruce."
That was strange. "Why?"
Sam blushed.
"I thought you were hungry?" She saved him accidentally. She was just bored.
"We are."
"Well come on." She turned on her heel and walked out.
"We should follow her."
So they did. She went to the kitchen, where there was a pot of boiling water. She'd just added fettecine to it with salt and oil.
"How long have you been here?" Sam asked as he saw the prep in place.
"A while." She finished adding ingredients to a jar and shook it vigorously.
Sam really wanted to ask if she was still mad at him but didn't want to ask in front of Tyrone. Would she leave after she finished cooking or would she stay and they could talk?
Marcy placed the jar in the fridge before taking the chicken breasts off the eye. She combined spices, milk, flour, butter and cheese into a saucepan to make a sauce for the dish before taking the chicken out of the seasoned water to slice.
When it was all in strips, she added butter to a pan and began to sear the chicken. The kitchen smelled fantastic.
"You really know what you're doing." Tyrone complimented.
"I do." She turned off the eye and placed all the strips into the sauce.
"It smells great in here."
"Thank you." She began chopping herbs and set it aside on the cutting board then went to drain the noodles (which she didn't rinse). She grabbed a serving bowl and poured the noodles in before pouring the sauce on top.
She used tongs to mix it all before adding the herbs. She grabbed romaine lettuce from the fridge that she'd chopped earlier then grabbed croutons and a triangle of Parmesan cheese.
She opened the croutons and tossed them in before shaving cheese all over. She grabbed the jar from the fridge and emptied it into the bowl before using another pair of tongs to mix that together.
She grabbed two plates from the cabinet and made their plates then went to the fridge for two bottles of beer, which she opened with a bottle opener. "There you go."
"Thanks, Marcy." Sam took a deep breath, excited about eating.
"Yeah, thanks." Tyrone had manners.
Marcy inclined her head and began cleaning up her mess.
Tyrone took his first bite of the pasta and nearly died. It was so good! He stabbed at more and shoveled into his mouth.
Sam smirked. And another one fell to Marcy's cooking. He set his fork aside and looked at Marcy, who was washing dishes. He cleared his throat delicately. "Hey, Marcy?"
"What?" She was elbow deep in suds.
"I'm sorry." Marcy was silent so he went on. "I'm truly sorry. And I want to thank you for coming down here and cooking for us even though you're mad at me. It shows how good a person you are."
She rinsed off her arms and turned around. "Not that good. I want something."
"Anything." He'd give her anything to stop the guilt.
"What have I said about telling me that?"
"It's begging for you to take advantage of me." He monotoned.
"But I do need something. I need a guitarist."
"Why? You're a guitarist."
"I'm starting a band." Marcy gave a version of the truth. "I already asked Finn to be drummer."
"But you play drums?"
"Sam, I can't play every instrument on stage by myself."
He bobbed his head. "Who else are you asking? Will Artie play bass?"
"No. He has enough going on. I'll have to find a bass player on my own."
"We'll help you. If we're going to be in a band together, we should do things together."
"I know." She stared at him.
He stared back, unsure if he should ask.
Tyrone looked between them. "A band? A rock band?"
"Sort of." Marcy looked at him. "It's not just rock. It'll be dope."
"I'd love to do it." Sam agreed.
"Thank you."
He bit the bullet. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?"
Marcy thought about it. His apology was sincere. "Yes."
His everything brightened. Maybe Khandi would stop being mad at him, too? "Can I have a hug?"
"No. I'm still going to get you back."
He gulped. "Will Blaine help?"
"He's not going to go easy on you. He feels pretty guilty."
He flattened. "Alright. It's what I deserve."
"I gotta go. I left homework and the twins."
"I haven't seen them since Halloween. How are they?"
"Bad as hell but still expecting Christmas presents."
"Even sweet little Mickey?"
"Mally can talk her into anything. Boy got my charm."
"You are charming. But so is Mal."
"You think Mal's charming?"
"Well yeah. He got you, didn't he?"
"Hey! I got him! I set that up!"
He chuckled. "What about Ellen?"
"I did that, too." She sniffed.
"Tell them I said hi."
"Come upstairs for dinner and tell 'em yourself."
"I'm allowed back upstairs?"
"I said I forgave you."
Sam smiled. "Thanks, Bruce."
"Clark." She saluted him before winking at Tyrone. "It's been a slice, Chocolate Drop but I gotta split. Maybe I'll see you again?"
And then she was gone.
Tyrone looked at Sam. "Who was that?"
Sam chuckled.
M-A-P
"What do you hear?" Timbaland asked Marcy.
Marcy hummed a bit before she began tapping out a beat on the beat maker. Her head bobbed along as she got into it.
"That's nice."
"Maybe add some of this?" Artie took over.
"Yeah and horns can go in here." Marcy told him.
"That'll sound nice." Timbaland nodded. "Sing it."
Marcy began singing the song she was giving to her sister and friends.
"Yeah! That sounds good. Let's add a bit of bass."
"When they come in tomorrow, this is going to be straight fire." Artie knew.
"If we keep going like this, this album will be finished by the first of the year."
M-A-P
"How are you doing on midterms?" Finn asked.
Puck frowned as he winced from the attack on his avatar. "I should be studying now."
"I know what you mean." Finn smashed buttons. "Some of these classes are hard."
"How are you, Q and Rachel?"
"Like… romantically?" Finn stared at him.
"Yeah." Puck didn't catch the look.
"You want to know about my relationship?"
Puck heard it. "No! I just wanted to know if they'd thawed out yet! It's been a month!"
"Rachel's mostly forgiven me but some days are definitely better than others when it comes to Quinn. What about Sadie and Anna?"
"Man, Kick was a mess at first. You'd think we pranked her. But I think she's nearly forgiven me. Mama talks to me now and she won't outright refuse to feed me and she started washing my clothes again (since I ran out). I just need Mini Mama to forgive me."
"She already forgave me." Finn said quietly.
Puck stared at him. "What?"
"She already forgave me." Finn shrugged, tense.
"Why?!"
"She needed my help with something."
"What? Maybe I can help her-?"
"I don't think it's going to work if she hasn't already asked you."
"Why not?!"
"Because she already asked Sam." Finn winced.
"What is it?" Puck would never admit to the hurt pricking him.
"She wants to start a band."
"And she wants him to play guitar?" He was truly hurt now.
"Yeah." Finn could tell.
"Oh."
It was silent until Finn perked up. "Want chips?"
"Sure." Puck just wanted to be alone for a moment.
Finn popped up and ran out to get chips.
Puck slumped back. She was really mad at him. It wasn't a joke. She was seriously steamed. Puck didn't know what to do but he had to make it right.
M-A-P
"What are you doing for Thanksgiving?" Timbaland asked.
"Who?" Marcy was confused for a moment.
"What do you mean "who?"?!" Artie was messed up over that.
"Is this going to be a thing?"
"Yes!"
She groaned loudly.
"You made it! You can celebrate now!"
"It didn't go well for my people the first time so why should I celebrate now?"
He was stuck.
"Your people?" Timbaland posed.
"I'm a quarter Native American." Marcy told him.
"Why don't you celebrate Thanksgiving? Because you're Native?"
"No. We never have. It's an American holiday. We didn't even think about celebrating it when we came here. The only reason we know when it is, is because we get off school."
"You're not American?"
"Nope."
"What are you?"
"We ain't got that kinda time." Artie snorted.
Marcy punched him quickly.
He rubbed his arm. "We don't!"
"I'm equal parts black, Italian, German and Native American." Marcy said. "I was born in Ireland but grew up in Greece. I'm a Greek citizen."
Timbaland's brows raised. "Wow. I get why you don't celebrate. You don't celebrate anything else?"
"We celebrate a bunch of holidays but not Thanksgiving or the Fourth of July."
"Makes sense."
"You have to celebrate now." Artie commanded.
"What for?" Marcy didn't want to.
"You've been here for like four years! It's time!"
Mercedes, Santana and Brittany returned from the bathroom as Marcy fixed her face to say no. "Hey! Why do you look grumpy?"
"Your boyfriend is annoying." Marcy told Brittany.
"Yeah, he is." Santana folded her arms.
Artie scowled. "MJ, don't you want to celebrate Thanksgiving?"
"Thanksgiving?" Mercedes was confused. "Why?"
He threw up his hands as Brittany squealed. "You have to celebrate! It's one of the best holidays!"
"Britt,-"
"Please?!" Brittany widened her ocean blue eyes.
Of course Mercedes fell for it. "Okay."
"And what exactly are you going to do to celebrate?" Marcy mocked.
Mercedes was stuck. "How do you celebrate?"
Timbaland's brows raised. They really didn't celebrate. "You cook food and watch football or the parade-"
"What parade?" Mercedes and Marcy asked.
The group gasped. "The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade!"
"I've never seen a parade on TV before." Marcy said.
Artie sighed. "Promise us you'll do something next week."
"What's next week?"
"Thanksgiving!"
"Alright! Calm down!"
"I'll ask my mom what she's making and you can make all the same stuff. I'm sure your dad would like that."
Mercedes shook her head. "Daddy and Papa Mike are out of the country."
"Then your moms-"
"Also gone. Maddie's coming up here to be with us."
"Wait, she's alone now?!"
"No but she's going to have to miss school that week cuz they're leaving this weekend."
"Well have it here. Marc's playing Thursday, isn't he?"
"Yeah, we were going to watch the game." Marcy shrugged.
"Just add food and you've got Thanksgiving." Santana rolled her eyes.
"Can I host it?" Mercedes asked her sister.
Marcy thought about it. She didn't want it but she did want another one. "As long as I get the Super Bowl and Valentine's Day."
"Valentine's Day?"
"I thought maybe we'd have a dance party? It's mainly to get Ellen off my back. That chick's all about love and bullshit and this will head her off."
"You're not romantic!" Brittany stomped a foot.
"I'm not." Marcy freely admitted.
"Done." Mercedes stuck her hand out.
Marcy shook it. "Can we get back to recording now?"