the glee project.

Summary: a new glee club is in town…

POV: third person… but kinda alternating characters.

Author's Notes: I'll try my very best to write the names of the underappreciated extras in the show, but if they don't have a name I'll just use their real ones. That okay? X)

Author's Ramblings: wow, after watching The Glee Project, I was kinda surprised at how very very VERY competitive Lindsay is. She's so undeniably pretty though, and as hard as it is to admit, she looks good paired up with Damian, especially in the Under Pressure-Ice Ice Baby video (cute cute Damian kawaii!). If only she was more like Marissa, who for me is pretty inside and out.

Chapter 3

"And why should we be concerned by this?" Thad asked. 15 pairs of curious eyes turned to Blaine. He sighed and played with his fingers. "I told you, it's for Kurt. He needs our help."

"You mean they need our help," Trent corrected. "The fact of the matter is, we don't owe them any favors, do we now?" Blaine shrugged and bowed his head, defeated.

"Lighten up a little, Trent," Jeff smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. While Trent rolled his eyes and shook his head, smiling, Nick playfully punched Blaine's arm. "You, on the other hand, are acting quite down in the dumps today. Very unBlainelike. What's the matter with you?"

Blaine gave him a weak smile, before looking around the room. "I don't know. I just feel… kind of…" his words grew fainter, as he never finished his sentence. Nick just gave him a nod, then sat back down to the brown leather couch next to Jeff.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but truth be told, I don't know why we're even in here when we don't even have school," David grumbled. The rest of the Warblers chuckled.

"Oh, come on David. Don't tell me you aren't feeling even just a tiny bit nostalgic," Wes nudged his long time best friend. "Let's face it: we're going to college school next year…"

"Princeton for me and Harvard for you," David nodded.

"… and we may never see this place again," Wes gulped. He stroked his, or rather the next council head's gavel gingerly, before putting it back on the tabletop. From the council table he could see the chess board on the coffee table which they never play with, the painting on the far end of the wall which they have all avoided looking at, and the other chess table by the window which they took turns using.

He sighed. "All in favor of helping Kurt and the New Directions?" Wes asked.

They looked at each other, before shrugging and raising their hands. Blaine beamed. "Thank you guys," he held his hand on his chest appreciatively.

"I'm surprised you didn't strike your infamous gavel," Thad joked at Wes. "Should David start writing down the minutes?"

The rest of the Warblers chuckled.

"Well," David breathed, "Since that's over with, you guys want to play a round of chess?"

Joe led Sam to the cash register. "Just relax, and remember what I told you. Always ask the customer their names afterwards. Some receipts get mixed up before, so now it would be easier to get the receipts right. Oh, and ask them if they would like the Kiddie Meal. We really need to get rid of the old toys before the new ones arrive."

Sam inhaled and nodded. "Are you sure I can man the cash register? I mean, having dyslexia and all?"

"Just as long as you know which button's which; you don't need to read to do that. It's muscle memorization," Joe assured him. "And the numbers are big enough, so making change will be a breeze…"

As Sam fixed his hat and name tag, Joe quickly put on the 'open' sign by the door. "Break a leg," he called as he went back inside to check on the kitchen.

Sam sighed. Game time.

After finally deciding that between the two, it was Tina who should tell the group about them leaving practice early, Mike Chang squeezed his girlfriend's shoulders. "Don't worry. I'm sure Mr. Schue's okay with it."

"It's not Mr. Schue whom I'm worried about…" Tina grumbled, watching Rachel Berry.

"You're friends with her; she might go gentle on you," Mike said optimistically.

"Don't count on it." Tina marched towards their teacher.

"So, guys, we really have to look for a place to practice. School's just a month away. I called this meeting so we can brainstorm on what to do. Is everyone here?" Mr. Schuester asked the group.

"Sam's not here yet," Rachel answered. "Should we wait for him?" Artie asked.

"I bumped into him this morning. He said he can't come today. He's working at the mall," Quinn piped up.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Rachel demanded.

"Well you didn't ask," Quinn snapped.

Tina bravely raised her hand. "Uhm, Mr. Schue? Mike and I have to go somewhere…"

"But we have to practice!" shrieked Rachel.

"We're not practicing anything, genius!" Santana called from the coach. "And we can't, since we don't have a place to practice yet, and the songs are all over the place, and then Finn's still trying to distinguish which foot's which…" As Santana enumerated all their shortcomings, the New Directions grew more hopeless.

"But it's not like we can do anything about it. As hard as it is to admit, we're stuck," Mercedes exhaled.

Tina and Mike Chang looked at each other. "Uhm, guys? I know this is bad timing… but… my mom's gonna kill me if I don't go…"

The moment Mr. Schuester did a microscopic nod, Tina and Mike Chang started racing out of Mr. Schue's house, just in time before Rachel's rants. They quickly made their way to Mike Chang's car. "I hope your mother's luncheon is worth it, because I am NOT looking forward to seeing Rachel tomorrow," Tina groused.

Sam scratched his head, shrugging. "I told you guys, I just can't. I'm working eight hours a day, and I only get offs on weekends," he explained. He drummed his fingers on the keys of the cash register nervously.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Rachel demanded, leaning in on the counter. Finn held on to his girlfriend, preventing her from pouncing on the boy with the beach blonde hair. The rest of the gang, along with Mr. Schuester, was behind them.

"I didn't know I was even starting today!" Sam defended himself. "And I don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't possibly tell you guys."

"Lighten up, Yenta. It's not like he's gonna miss anything, with you changing your mind on a song every five seconds," Santana rolled her eyes. Rachel quickly turned around. "Speaking of which, I think I… I mean we…" she rolled her eyes, "should sing Seasons of Love."

As Santana sent a slather of Spanish insults to the Jew, Mr. Schuester stepped forward. "Guys! I have told you! We have to keep a positive attitude if we want to win," he told them sternly and sent Rachel and Finn back. Patting Sam shoulder, he said, "It's okay, Sam. We understand. We'll just practice as a whole on your day-off."

Mr. Schuester then signaled the New Direction to be on their way. Sam sighed as he watched his groupmates leave the fast food chain. What should he do? He thought hard.

Joe called him from the kitchen. "Try not to mix work and your personal life," he advised. "I'm gonna let that slide since it's your first time. But heads up; customers are coming. Real ones, anyway." Sam looked at him, and Joe pursed his lips to point at the glass doors. Sure enough, a group of teenage girls entered the vicinity.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving!" the big redheaded girl of the group beamed. Sam gulped as he saw them approaching the counter.

"Wait, aren't we going to wait for Lindsay?" another girl asked, her banana earrings showing contrast with the purple top she was wearing.

"Let her go to that music store she always sneaks to when coach isn't around," a Latina approached Sam. "In the meantime, I would like to order that 'Chickenjoy' thing over there," she pointed at the menu and looked expectantly at him. Sam blinked.

"Pssst!"

Sam looked at the manager, and saw Joe pointing at a Ben Ten knickknack. Sam nodded, and then turned back to his customers. He heard the girl asking her friend, "What about you, Ellis?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure…"

Sam cleared his throat. "W-would you be interested in the Jollibee Kiddie Meal? It comes with a Ben Ten watch…" Sam nervously checked on Joe, who was nodding in approval.

The customer, on the other hand, just stared at Sam, deadpan. "I'm 18. I just look like I'm ten, but I swear I'm not."

The group silently chuckled as the Latina told Ellis, "Just have what I'm having." "Actually," a tall girl told Sam, "We'll just all have what she's having." The rest of the girls nodded.

Sam quickly pressed a bunch of keys on the cash register. Wait, what was that other thing he was supposed to do again? "Uhm, what's your name?"

The girl batted her eyelashes. "Emily, but you can call me whatever you want."

"Checkmate."

"What?" Thad stood up from his chair in defiance. "It can't be over!" Jeff shook his head and looked at the Hispanic upperclassman. "Sorry man, but it is." The rest of the Warblers laughed as Wes smirked at his opponent.

His phone rang; Wes quickly answered it. David and Blaine looked on, amused, as Wes talked over the phone. David whispered to Blaine, "Do you think it's her? Up for a reconciliation, maybe?" Blaine shook his head. "Nah, I doubt it. She made it clear that she didn't want anything to do with him anymore." The two watched Wes as he paced to and fro.

"Today? As in now?... dui bu zhi, nana, but it's so short-notice. I don't think…"

David and Blaine looked at each other. "Who's nana?" Blaine asked. David shrugged. "Asian pet name, perhaps?" "And now you're being racist," Blaine rolled his eyes.

After a few minutes with a look of discomfort contorting on his face, Wes finally sighed. "Yes, nana, I understand… I said I was sorry… bye, grandma."

He looked at David, then at Blaine. Both were milliseconds from laughing. David blubbered, "Was that you're grandmother?" "And she has a cell phone?" Blaine added. The two burst out laughing.

"My grandmother's making me go to this luncheon," Wes pouted.

Finn stole a glance on the music store as the gang passed it on their way out of the mall.

Sure enough, he saw Lindsay from behind the glass doors, looking at a CD in the Broadway aisle. She looked up; she saw him and smiled. Finn smiled as well. He then felt Rachel's tug on him as the group went on their way, with her taking the lead as she practically dragged him out of the mall.

She didn't see her, Finn thought.

He looked back at Lindsay, who was now on her way out of the music store. She waved him goodbye.

Unfortunately for him, Santana Lopez totally and undeniably saw.

The door creaked open as Quinn walked in the church. It was good that Mr. Schuester had finally decided that practice was cancelled for the day. She needed to escape from everything, fast. She caught her breath; she couldn't take it much longer. Everything was going wrong, and the pressure was too great to bear. She didn't know what she was going to do when school comes. She wasn't a cheerio any longer, and there's no way that Coach Sylvester will take her again. She couldn't be Prom Queen, since Finn broke up with her over Rachel. Her forehead wrinkled as she felt the stress. Her reputation was officially over. Quinn's heart grew heavy, and she twirled her short hair in the hopes that it might distract her from all the chaos, even for just a little bit.

She took a strand of her blonde locks and studied it, as a child would stare at her own. For all what it's worth, Santana was right. She did feel a bit better with her new hair cut. It was as if weight had been lifted off of her. It was only temporary, though, and it seemed like Rachel and Finn's relationship was permanent. Quinn sighed.

She hated Rachel, but she hated Finn more. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to end this way. Finn should be the one groveling, not her. Finn should be the one who's heartbroken. She should be the dumper and not the dumpee. Why was everything not going the way she wanted it? Why was everything going against her?

Quinn sat by the nearest pew. If she had questions, she knew this was the place where she could get answers. She wasn't in the mood to praying - she felt too impure that moment to talk to God. However, the serenity of the place made her feel at peace. She was able to meditate, to think straight, no distractions.

The church doors squeaked. She turned around to see who it was.

He was tall and lanky. Wearing a striped sweater and rolled up skinny jeans, his eyes met hers behind black-rimmed glasses. He smiled at her, before taking a seat on the pew across hers.

GOOD GRIEF I JUST WATCHED EP7 OF GLEE PROJECT! CAMEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON! Damian! Win Glee Project, PLEASE! Do it for your boy Cameron. Alex should've gone home Alex should've gone home Alex should've gone home Alex should've gone home Alex should've gone home

Oh, and sorry for Marrisa/Cameron or shippers out there… I just felt that if Cameron's gonna be in the spotlight (which is where he totally deserves to be), he should be paired up with a regular, you know?