"I swear, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing Blaine in those bow ties. Who knew he would really end up transferring to McKinley to be with me? It's... romantic, Rachel. I fall in love with that boy a little more every day. Although I may need to work on his matching skills—"
It's the first Tuesday back at Glee following an... interesting summer, to say the least, and Rachel already has her eyes on the prize, so to speak. She's had to deal with months of most of the Glee club practically shunning her (for reasons she understands entirely), and she hadn't even heard from Kurt until the news about Blaine. Now, though, the boy has turned his chair in her direction and started on again about his summer of romance with the curly-haired junior from Dalton. In another life— meaning last year— Rachel would be basking in all of this: the unwavering attention from Kurt, the gossip, and the topic of "true love".
Instead, she barely suppresses an eye roll, and smiles instead, cutting him off. "I can imagine you're glad he's here, Kurt. He'll be an incredible asset to the team." She winces at the sound of her words, a little too gung-ho even for herself, but Kurt seems to barely notice. It's not as if he's really talking to her anyway— it's more like he's talking to anything or anyone who happens to listen.
Luckily, Mr. Schuester takes that moment, on time for once, to enter the room with Finn trailing right behind him. The former nods in the general direction of the club while the latter makes a beeline directly toward the seat right next to Rachel. Finn presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Hey Rach," he mumbles, smiling dopily.
As much as she used to spend, well, every waking moment vying for the tall boy's attention, Rachel finds herself tensing at the public affection. It feels more for show than anything. She can imagine Finn is still under the impression that the kiss— the beautiful, disastrous one that led to their embarrassing downfall at Nationals— was worth all that followed. For some reason he clearly believes that rubbing it in the face of the rest of the club is the right move, even as they all stare daggers in their direction.
Rachel just sighs and readjusts in her seat. As much as she'd love to tell the club the news that she and Finn aren't even actually, technically together, she knows that will somehow bode worse for everyone. Then, she wouldn't even be able to hide under the pretense that anything good came out of that kiss. It's not that they're not seeing each other, but Rachel made it very clear only a couple of weeks into summer that she wanted to take it slow this time, and that she needed time to think about the status of their relationship.
"Time" turned into three months of sporadic coffee "dates" at the Lima Bean, even rarer movie nights, and mostly Finn showing up unexpectedly at her doorstep at least once a week. The boy's tendency to pursue anyone who isn't actively pursuing him would be almost funny at this point if it wasn't putting Rachel on edge. She really doesn't mean to string him along, but it's hard to make any kind of decision when he's breathing down her neck every second.
Forcing herself to shake the thoughts out of her head— she really does want to win Nationals this year, and the whole point is to not be distracted by any boys— Rachel crosses her legs and leans forward to show Mr. Schue that she's paying close attention to whatever motivational lesson he's going to use to start off the year.
Mr. Schue takes that as enough acknowledgement to begin and clears his throat, causing everyone in the room to settle. "Welcome back, guys! I hope you all had an amazing summer. Now, I know not everything went according to plan the last time we saw each other." He almost unconsciously glances in Rachel and Finn's direction, and Rachel suppresses an eye roll because she figures she deserves the slight. "I really think this is our year, though. So many of you are going to be graduating before you know it, and I would love to win us a Nationals trophy before you cross that stage." Usually, there'd be cheers here, but the room is apathetic at best.
Luckily, Mr. Schue seems unfazed by the tough crowd. "I'm so glad you're as excited about this as I am," he jokes, "and I hope you channel that energy into our first assignment of the year…" He picks up a marker, turns around to the whiteboard, and writes one word as he speaks. "Explore."
"In the last two years, we've done a good job as a group of exploring new ways to perform. We've done hairography, we've made some incredible mash-ups, and some of you have even written original music." Rachel beams a little at that, because despite everything she really is proud that she was able to perform her own song on a stage in New York. "But I've been thinking," Mr. Schue continues, "that maybe we need to work on exploring a little bit more of ourselves."
"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Schue. I've been doing plenty of self-exploration this summer," Santana quips, earning a high-five from Puck and a whistle from Finn— who ends up on the receiving end of a patented Rachel Berry glare.
Mr. Schue is clearly a little thrown by the comment, but he recovers relatively quickly. " Not like that, Santana. I want you guys to explore your music. All of you, I'm sure, have some connection to music outside of Glee club, and you probably even have a favorite genre or two." He points around the room. "Finn and Puck, I know you love classic rock. Mercedes and Santana, you're into R&B. Rachel, you love musicals. Brittany listens to a lot of pop, right?"
Brittany is the first to speak up, nodding. "Now that I've realized there's space in this world for two Brittanys, I've been super into her music," she comments.
Mr. Schuester laughs. "Exactly, Brittany, thank you. My point being, we all have our own tastes, and it's easy to fall into a pattern. It's almost like an echo chamber— you might branch out every once in a while to find a song to perform for Glee, but how often are you branching out for yourselves? We clearly have a lot of learning and self-improvement to do to win Nationals this year, and it starts today. Your assignment for the next week is to explore the world of music and find a song that is entirely out of your typical wheelhouse. I don't want you to choose a song just to complete the assignment, though. Find something you really connect with. A song that drives your passion for music that much further."
Rachel is actually pretty impressed with the idea, even though she can't immediately think of any genre she doesn't know well. She's always prided herself on her vast music collection, even though most of her classmates— and Mr. Schue, apparently— only think of her as a Broadway fanatic.
"There's one other thing. We're down a few members." Those words don't even really need to be said. Everyone is quite aware that a certain blonde is missing from her usual seat in the back of the room, and Rachel feels an unexpected pang in her chest when she thinks about it. The energy in the room just feels different without Quinn, somehow. No one's even heard from her since they got back from Nationals.
"We need to recruit, and we should do it before we start really buckling down for Sectionals. So, when you're searching for a song for this assignment, I want you to use your resources— the other students here at McKinley!" There's a collective groan, but Mr. Schue continues. "Find another student who runs in a different circle than you, and they might surprise you with the music they're able to share. Hopefully, we can get them to start thinking about joining Glee when they come next Tuesday to watch you perform. Bonus points if you can convince them to perform with you."
If everyone was on edge already, the room now practically buzzes with negative energy. Everyone's eyes are on Finn when he clears his throat. "Sorry, Mr. Schue, but this just feels like social suicide. I mean, high school has its cliques for a reason. We might be a team in this room, but out there is different ."
"Maybe we wouldn't have to worry about that if you'd just kept your obscenely long giraffe tongue in your mouth long enough to win us a trophy," Santana shoots back.
Mr. Schuester holds up a hand. "Santana, let's not blame—"
Santana laughs, cutting him off. "Not blame Finnept? Please. Look around. We're back in the ass crack of Ohio with nothing to show for it and we have even less members than this time last year. If we'd won Nationals, we still wouldn't be cool, but now anyone in their right mind won't touch us with a ten-foot pole."
"I get it," Mr. Schue sighs. "That's why I'm giving you guys this assignment, and you have a whole week to figure it out. It might be hard, but it's not impossible, and we need this if we're even going to be able to compete."
He's about to continue on to some motivational speech, but Santana cuts him off again. "Oh, I just realized I so rarely agree with you that you didn't know that was happening." The words sound harsh, but everyone in the room has known Santana long enough to realize she's joking in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I actually think it's a great idea. Plus, I can't wait to show off to all the freshmen I'll scare into joining."
At that, Mr. Schue laughs — albeit a little worriedly— and claps his hands together. "You heard the girl. Let's get to work!"
As excited as Rachel initially was for the challenge, by the time she's getting ready for bed that night she's given herself a headache trying to make a list of all of the McKinley students she has any chance trying to convince to join. There's Jared, a redheaded boy in her English class who seems to always have his headphones in, but she thinks he'd rather fly under the radar for the rest of high school if given the opportunity. There are a handful of cheerleaders in her gym period who are clearly talented enough to perform, but if they didn't join Glee under Quinn's reign, there's definitely no reason they'd join now. There's the Mack, one of the Skanks, who comes off as terrifying but has actually been pretty sweet— the word is relative— to Rachel during their handful of encounters. Rachel's face lights up when she remembers a time the Mack alluded to being in a band during a junior year AP English Language presentation. It's not much, but it's something to go off of, and this is a way better option than failing at the assignment or getting slushied for attempting to speak to a cheerleader.
She has no idea what the girl's actual name is, so there's no way she can find her on Facebook. She'll wait until tomorrow to bring it up in AP Biology. Rachel's not under any impression that she'll actually convince the Mack to join Glee— it's hard enough being an outcast for one reason, let alone two— but it'll at least give her an avenue for the assignment.
If she says yes.
It's really very unlikely.
It's that kind of thinking that the Universe appreciates, apparently. When Rachel slides down in the open seat next to the Mack the next afternoon, she's ready and prepared with a full speech to convince the girl, which all falls apart immediately. She's only just explained the point of the assignment when the Mack cuts her off.
"—Berry. Slow down. Holy shit. You're going to give yourself an aneurysm."
Rachel braces herself to be let down— it's not like it would be the first or last time— so she's surprised at the next words. "I'll do it."
"What?" Rachel can't help her stunned response. "Really?"
The Mack just shrugs. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies with that thing. Maybe you caught me on a good day, or maybe I'm just bored, but this actually sounds fun." She pauses, tapping her pencil on the desk she's already marked up with a handful of drawings of some kind of symbol Rachel's never seen before. "I'm not saying I'll join. There's no way in hell that's happening. But you're pretty chill sometimes, and I like watching you call out the idiots in this class who like to pretend they know shit."
Rachel laughs uneasily because she would never imagine the Mack's paid any kind of attention to her antics. "They are kind of idiots. Most people hate that about me, though."
The Mack tilts her head. "Nah, I think it's cool. Some people could probably benefit from being knocked down a peg or two. It's just funny when it's a five foot tall bombshell doing the knocking." Rachel suddenly has the feeling she's woken up in some alternate universe where one of the toughest girls in the school is actually cracking a joke that's about her, but not at her expense. "The band is getting together later after we get out of this hellhole. Meet me at my place at six." She rips off a corner of a random page in her lab book— causing Rachel to cringe a bit— and scribbles down her address in almost unintelligible handwriting.
Their teacher takes that moment to start class and Rachel can somehow tell the conversation is over for now, so she slips back to her regular desk next to Tina. The girl gives her a look, but Rachel just pretends not to see it.
When Rachel pulls up to the Mack's house later that night — surprisingly a quaint, kind of unsuspecting home— she almost has to laugh at herself. She's fifteen minutes early, and there's no way she's walking up to the door any earlier than just on time. She settles in her seat for a few minutes, just scrolling through her iPhone's music library to kill time and settle her nerves. She's not exactly… great at social settings, and while the Mack's been cautiously nice, there's no reason to assume the rest of the Skanks will be as positive about her attendance.
Finally, the clock on the dashboard shows 5:59 and she forces herself to step out of the car. "Alright, Rachel, you can do this. It's just an assignment. It's doubtful anyone else will be successful at this rate, and you don't want to let Mr. Schuester down again." She knocks twice on the door, foregoing her usual chipper knocking pattern.
"Just get in, pick a song, and get out. It'll be fine. It'll be great. It'll be—"
She's still in the middle of her pep talk when the door swings open and a voice is yelling toward the back of the house. "Mack, I told you to stop inviting your sugar daddies to practice. We just need to get through our set without…" The voice trails off.
The voice, attached to one pink-haired, clad-in-all-black, confused Quinn Fabray.
"…an audience."
Rachel, despite herself, smiles widely. "Quinn! I didn't expect you to be here. Are you in the band?"
Her smile fades quickly when Quinn, for her part, just turns on her heel and stalks back into the house.
Okay. That went well.
Author's Note: I know, I know. Not enough Quinn in this chapter ;) The idea was originally for a one-shot, but this will probably end up as a couple of chapters at least, mostly because I know if I don't post this now, I won't get around to it until next weekend. Hope you enjoy! Also, the chapter title is from the Vaccine's song A Lack of Understanding.
