Hey Samcedes shippers! This chapter turned out to be so long that I decided to break it up into two chapters. You'll guys find out what Puck's master plan was in the next chapter. This is the chapter you guys have all been waiting for. The secret show and the craziness that ensues are going to be revealed. I'm currently planning out the plot to the sequel of this story, which will be unveiled sometime in the fall. So without further ado, here is the third to last chapter of this epic tale. Sorry in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors.

Eleven

Luke's Candy Bar

20 Lorimer Street

Williamsburg, Brooklyn

Mercedes rounded the corner of Lorimer Street in Brooklyn looking frantically for Luke's Candy Bar. She was racing against time as it was already a quarter to six and she was still looking for the place. There was one daunting thought plaguing her mind. She couldn't help but wonder whether or not those girls gave her the right venue. They obviously didn't like her by the icy way they treated her. They could've easily decided to play a very fucked up prank on her without a second thought. She had gotten off at Lorimer Street like that hipster twat instructed, but she couldn't find it. She was walking down Lorimer, approaching the intersection of Lorimer and Richardson Street, when she heard cheering from a distance.

She squinted her eyes to get a better look and could see people on the sidewalk in front of a store. Crossing her fingers, she sped walked in that direction and the cheering got louder. As she got closer, she could hear loud live music coming from inside. She looked up at the awning of the store and let out a huge sigh of relief. Half the battle was over. It was Luke's Candy Bar and if it wasn't for the obnoxious cheering, she wouldn't have found it. It was wedged inconspicuously between a liquor store and a bodega. The building was sort of run-down and looked like it could use a much needed renovation. There was graffiti on the door and the metal awning and sides were rusted.

The bar was dimly lit and all Mercedes could see were a sea of people. There were people outside smoking Camels and Marlboros while bobbing their heads to the music. She recognized the song that was playing. It was the same one that she heard at Arlene's. This was definitely the Cosmic Slices and Rachel was here. Her heart was beating so fast with anxiety that she could hear it ringing in her ears. Mercedes just had to see for herself. She pushed her way through the crowd of people, wanting to die from the disgusting mix between body odor and cigarette smoke lingering in the air. It was stifling hot from all the body heat and she had to gasp for fresh, uncontaminated air. She was being thrown from side to side by the crowd and had to stand on her tippy toes to see anything. As she pushed her way through the crowd, she craned her neck to see the stage. There were girls taking pictures and recording videos on their phones, documenting their big accomplishment. Finding the secret show, which Mercedes knew all too well, was a big deal. It was like finding the holy grail of trashy indie bands.

Lo and behold, there was Finn Hudson screaming gibberish into his microphone while the rest of the band played along. Rachel was standing next to Finn, bobbing her head and swaying her hips. She was slamming her hand cacophonously against a tambourine while singing along with him. She was completely oblivious to the envious looks she was getting from the girls in the crowd. Every so often, Finn would sneak a peek at Rachel, smiling as she pranced around on the stage. She was giggling, her face a tickled pink, as she swung her head from side to side. He was smitten by her and her antics. It was obvious by the way he looked at her as if she were the only person in the room and turned a crimson red whenever she looked his way. Finn Hudson, the supposed Sex God and the guy who could have sex with three girls in one night, was awestricken by the sex kitten. There were girls at the foot of the stage screaming his name and flailing their hands erratically over their heads in order to get his attention, but he kept sneaking glances at Rachel, ignoring the other fame hungry groupies. Every girl in the room wanted to be in Rachel's shoes, sans being drunk and dressed in a skimpy crotch dress.

Mercedes's eyes were glued to her roommate, watching her every move. She wasn't falling for it this time. There was no way she was letting Rachel out of her sight. This night needed to end and fast. She had a plan. She wasn't going to make a scene. After all, the hipster snobs in the crowd already didn't like her and no one in the room liked Rachel. She was just going to make her way to the rear side of the stage where Rachel was doing her dancing and get her off the stage when the song ended. She was going to do this calmly, resisting the urge to claw Rachel's eyes out for making her play hide and go find the slut. Then, she was going to drag Rachel out of the bar and hail a cab. She didn't even want to make eye contact with Finn or be in the same general area with him because she didn't want the chance to kick him in the balls.

The song was coming to an end with a climatic guitar solo and the beating of the drums. When Finn finished the last line of the song, he did a victory dance and gave the audience his trademark sneer. The audience erupted in cheer and he gave them a dramatic bow.

"Do I hear an encore?!" he cried.

Everyone was cheering and screaming his name as if he were some God of some sort. Mercedes was probably the only one who screamed no, which garnered a few distasteful looks from bystanders. She didn't have time for another song. Her ass needed to be in a cab headed for the Morningside Inn pronto with Rachel in tow.

"I'd like to dedicate this song to my newest muse Rachel," Finn said. He looked at Rachel once more who was giggling like a maniac. She tried to hide the grin plastered on her face with a hand, but failed miserably. She was stumbling, tripping over her own feet. Mercedes knew that everyone wished she fell and hit her head.

The crowd hushed to nothing but whispers. It was pretty clear that everyone wanted Rachel to spontaneously combust in flames. Yet, Rachel was too drunk to care. She was making a fool of herself. Mercedes suddenly felt bad. She wasn't the biggest fan of Rachel, but damn she wasn't that much of a hater. Sure, she wanted to cuss the brunette out for dragging her along through this mess, but she didn't hate her.

As the last song played, Mercedes finally pushed her way through to the foot of the stage. Rachel's pink heels were carelessly thrown at the bottom of steps that led up to the stage. Rachel was no more than a few feet away, shimmying as Finn belted out the lyrics to the song. Victory had never felt so good. Yet, it was a bittersweet one. She wished that Sam could see this and relish her victory with her. He had never been to the secret show and it would've been awesome if he were there. She could feel him wrapping his arms around her and that feeling made her want to cry. She bit her lip as hard as she could and was willing herself not to burst out into tears. She just needed to leave New York and forget that he ever existed.

She was so wrapped up in her brooding over Sam that she didn't notice that the song was coming to an end. The sound of boisterous cheer knocked her out of her thoughts. Finn yelled another thank you into the microphone and made a promise that the next secret show would be even more epic. The crowd gave the band a round of applause and with that the crowd began to disperse.

The other band members got up and began to pack their instruments. Finn grabbed Rachel into his arms and she burst out laughing. He placed a wet, sloppy kiss on her lips. All the girls who stood behind for autographs and a chance to steal Finn rolled their eyes in disgust. There was no way they were going to get their hands on Finn, not when he was so into Rachel.

"Rachel!" Mercedes yelled. She waved her hands over her head to catch her attention. Rachel lazily drifted her eyes to Mercedes and, for a second, didn't recognize her. Her hands were still wrapped around Finn's shoulders and her lips were pursed with puzzlement. After a minute of what looked like serious thought, Rachel broke out into a grin. She broke free of Finn's grasp and wobbled down the steps of the stage. She was staggering and she could barely hold herself up. Thankfully, Rachel was a very social drunk.

"Mercedes!" Rachel cried, slurring her words. She enveloped Mercedes into a hug, almost falling on top of her. She reeked of cigarette smoke and booze. Her makeup was smeared and her lipstick was in her teeth. Her eyeliner was smudged and her hair was tangled. From her appearance, Mercedes had no clue what Finn found attractive in her.

"Lookie! He tattooed me!"

Mercedes's heart skipped a few beats. What did she mean he tattooed her? She was going to kick his ass for getting her a tattoo while she was drunk. Rachel pointed to her almost exposed boob and was giggling with delight. Mercedes let out a sigh of relief. It was Finn's autograph in Sharpie scrawled sloppily on her chest. It was going to take some serious scrubbing though. She just saved herself from dishing out a serious ass whooping.

"We have to go Rachel," Mercedes said in a firm voice. She grabbed Rachel's heels and grabbed the petite girl's arm.

"What are you doing with her?" Finn demanded, racing to Rachel's side. He freed her from Mercedes's grasp and cradled her in his arms. He was patting her head as if she were a dog.

What the fuck?

Mercedes gave him a scowl. She refused to play tug of war with him. She racked her brain for an explanation as to why they were acting like they were madly in love with each other. They blew her and Sam's little relationship out of the water. It was borderline crazy!

She gave him her meanest glare, the same one that she used when she meant business. "Hand her over Hudson," she snapped. She stepped forth and grabbed Rachel by the arm, tugging her out of Finn's grasp. Yet, he was way stronger than her and Rachel didn't move. Mercedes decided to size him up as a way to scare him, but she came up to his chest and wasn't much of a threat.

"Who are you?'

"I'm her friend, the one that she dragged to see you play!"

That didn't help any.

He wasn't budging and it was really pissing her off.

So she had no choice, she had to bring out the big guns.

She took a step forth and grabbed his balls. She did it so fast that he didn't have time to react or deflect her attack. He immediately sucked in his stomach and Rachel stumbled out of his hard grip. Rachel was so dazed that she just stood there staring at them. She didn't say anything and her head was drooping. The alcohol high was wearing off.

He couldn't speak and he was yelping in pain. Bystanders who decided to stay behind watched in horror, but none of them came to Finn's rescue. She was probably going to be burned at the stake for this, but she didn't care. She SO didn't forget about the Plaza Hotel incident or the fact that he had her running around the city like a madwoman to find his epically lame secret show.

"Listen here Hudson. You had me running around the fucking city trying to find my friend. You're going to help me get her into a cab so that we can get back to our hotel to meet our doom. You understand?"

Finn, turning a beet red from pain, shook his head frantically. She gave him one last squeeze for good luck and let go, wiping her hand across her thigh. She made a mental note to self. She had to boil her hand when she had the chance.

Finn gasped for air and his hands were on his knees. He was coughing and the apples of his cheeks were still red. When he regained his composure, he enveloped the starry eyed Rachel into a hug. He kissed her cheek and was whispering in her ear. He took off his shutter sunglasses and placed them on them on the bridge of her nose. It was his last offering for the night. She was stiff in his arms and was turning green. She looked as if she were ready to blow chunks.

"I don't feel too good," she wailed. Before Finn could assuage her pain, Rachel slumped over and made a displeasing grunting sound. She threw up all over his Chuck Taylors.

Mercedes gasped at this, her eyes wide with shock. Finn's jaw was dropped to the ground and he looked at his sneakers with disbelief. Rachel had vomit in her hair and on her lips. Finn didn't seem angry at her, which caught Mercedes by surprise. If Rachel had thrown up on her, ten people would have to hold her back. Finn wordlessly wiped her lips with the hem of his wife beater. Rachel was crying and blabbering incoherently. He shushed her and whispered that everything was going to be okay. He had to be crazy for her to not get mad at her for hurling all over him. The bassist asked if he was okay, but Finn ignored him and continued to console Rachel.

Finn gently picked up her groom and bride style. Her arms were wrapped across his broad shoulders and her face was buried in his chest. She continued to whimper and Finn tried his best to calm her down. Mercedes followed Finn out of the bar, shaking her head in disbelief. Finn was an asshole, but he did have a soft side to him. Anyone who could stomach being thrown up on was cool in her book.

The sky was now a mosaic of vivid orange sherbet and a pastel navy blue. Sunrise was dawning on New York City and that meant that Mr. Shue certainly noticed that they were gone. The Glee Club was leaving for Ohio in a little over an hour. Her hope of still returning to the Morningside Inn unscathed officially died. Mercedes didn't find the Spanish teacher intimidating, but she was definitely scared of what he would do to her and Rachel when they got to the hotel. She was anxious about meeting her inevitable demise. This wasn't how she wanted her high school career to end. She could already imagine what her parents would do when Mr. Shue told them what she had been up to.

Finn, while still holding Rachel, flagged down a cab that was zooming down Lorimer. The cab came to an abrupt stop, its wheel squeaking as it pulled onto the curb. Mercedes opened the door and helped Finn place Rachel inside. She was sprawled on the seat, her head resting on the window. Finn placed a small peck on her lips, which made Mercedes shudder with disgust. Those were the same lips that he cleaned vomit from.

Mercedes and Finn locked eyes. He was inching away from her, cupping his crotch for protection. Mercedes, who was at least nine inches shorter than him, had scared the shit out of him. There was an awkward silence and the cabbie honked his horn impatiently.

"You're a good man Finn Hudson," Mercedes replied.

"Thanks. Tell Rachel to call me."

"Will do," Mercedes said. And with that Mercedes got into the cab and slammed the door behind herself.

"Where to?" the cabbie, whose accent was near incomprehensible, asked.

"The Morningside Inn on 107th," she instructed.

The cabbie nodded his head and pulled off of the curb.

Within twenty minutes, thanks to the cabbie speeding all the way to the Upper West Side, the cab pulled in front of the Morningside Inn. Rachel was asleep the whole time, drooling on the window with her tongue hanging out. If it weren't for her heavy snoring, you'd think that the brunette was lifeless. To Mercedes's horror, there were three cop cars across the street.

She. Was. Fucked.

Mr. Shue had called the cops! Her chest was tightening with anxiety and her heart had sunken into the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to face her doom, but she had no choice. With resignation, she gently tapped Rachel on the shoulder. The brunette moaned and she raised her head. Her dress was up to her upper thigh and was so close to flashing Mercedes Paris Hilton style.

"We're here," Mercedes said.

She helped Rachel out of the cab and wrapped the petite girl's arm over her shoulder. For someone who weighed no more than a hundred and ten pounds, Rachel was heavy. She helped Rachel walk with one hand and held her heels in another. Mercedes guided Rachel to the revolving door of the hotel. She paused for a moment, shaking with fear and dread. She could see Mr. Shue standing there with Ms. Pillsbury beside him. He was frantic, his hands covering his mouth. From the melancholic expression etched on his face, it looked like he wanted to cry. He was talking to the police, shaking his head. Mercedes had never seen Mr. Shue so emotional, not even when they lost to Vocal Adrenaline at Regionals last year. Ms. Pillsbury, wide eyed with fear, was trying her best to console him, but he was stiff and looked as if he didn't want to be touched. Frenchie was explaining his side of the story and seemed as if he were apologizing profusely for the mix up. It was technically his fault that they even stepped foot out of the hotel. The other Glee Club members were in the lobby whispering among each other. Mercedes had never seen them so solemn and quiet. Even Santana remained mum, her face glum and white.

She swallowed the large lump forming in her throat and steadied her breath. She counted to three and walked through the revolving door with Rachel hanging onto her. Mr. Shue spotted them and his eyes widened with shock. He let out a huge sigh of relief and tried to open his mouth, but couldn't say anything. He probably thought that they were dead, but here they were in the flesh. The rest of the Glee Club stared at them as if they were foreign. They stood quiet, knowing that a fierce battle was about to ensue. Mr. Shue thanked the cops for their work, even though they did absolutely nothing to find them. He was staring at them and the look in his eyes made Mercedes squirm. It was a mix between deep disappointment and anger. He took a good look at Rachel and clenched his jaw. From her disheveled look and her inability to stand up on her own, he knew that she had been drinking last night. They were in deep trouble.

"Where have you girls been?" Mr. Shue demanded. His voice was eerily calm as if he were trying to control his anger. His eyes were boring into them, expecting a very good excuse as to why they went missing and engaged in illegal behavior, namely underage drinking.

Mercedes couldn't find a sufficient excuse or lie that would get her out of trouble, so she decided on the truth. She explained the whole situation, from Rachel wanting to see the Cosmic Slices play and her getting lost with the band, but she cleaned it up a bit so it wouldn't sound as bad. Mr. Shue was looking at them in disbelief. He probably didn't believe their story, but it was too detailed to be a lie.

"Do you know how much trouble you're in? I could have you expelled!"

Mercedes winced at his threat. She could kiss her dreams of college and graduating high school with honors goodbye. This was going to follow her for the rest of her academic career. Her parents were going to murder her. They expected so much better from her and she had let them down. With an expulsion, Rachel wasn't going to her dream school. Mercedes wondered if she was going to think spending the night with Finn Hudson and the Cosmic Dickheads was worth her losing her scholarship.

"Mr. Shue we're sorry!"

"But, I'm not going to do that," he replied. His expression softened. Being the bad guy didn't fit him.

Mercedes couldn't believe her ears. He wasn't going to have Principal Figgins expel them? Her shock turned into confusion. What they did was worthy of an automatic expulsion, so why wasn't Mr. Shue going to stick through with his threat?

"What?"

"You guys are going to be suspended instead. What you guys pulled last night is unacceptable, but face it. You two are our best singers and without you we won't beat Vocal Adrenaline."

Mercedes wanted to do a happy dance, but decided not to show off. She didn't want Mr. Shue to change his mind. They weren't going to be expelled or kicked out of Glee Club. All they were going to get was a suspension and probably a very fierce tongue lashing from their parents. Mercedes could live with that. After all, she was getting what she wanted. She was going to get all of Rachel's solos and she couldn't be happier, but she was still a bit sad over Sam. She brushed her thoughts of him away and focused her attention on the present situation.

Mr. Shue looked at his watch and said: "You girls have exactly ten minutes to get your bags."

Mercedes shook her head obediently and walked with Rachel to the elevator. She was still taken aback by Mr. Shue's generosity, even after everything they had done.

She won and was finally going home where she belonged.