Hey I'm back. Thanks for all who've read and reviewed my story, and thanks for the advice and encouragement it means a lot. So I will try to make this chapter longer.

Disclaimer: I dont own Glee, oh but dont we all wish we do? Ryan Murphy does however so lucky him.
BTWS: Italicized is Sebastians thoughts.
Chapter 3
Sebastian's POV:
"I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I HATE THIS. Why?! Why do my parents hate me enough that they move me here? To this stupid little town of Lima? To this stupid, pathetic school, William McKinley High? Seriously this looks like the stereotypical high school." I think to myself after getting through another painful hour of class. Spanish class was ridiculous, the jocks asked some of the stupidest questions.

"The jocks are stupid, I wonder if the cheerleaders are almost stick thin with the exception of their (possibly fake) boobs and butt and no brain." I think to myself as I walk down the hallway of, yet another, new school.

"At least I don't have to worry about being picked on for being ugly." As if on cue these cheerleaders look my way, giggle, and wave, I give them my trademark smirk.

"Hello ladies," I say walking past them. I don't, however, expect them to actually trail behind me.

"Hi there." a brunette says in a very overly flirty manner. Considering she was just, basically dry humping a dude in a letter man jacket a few seconds ago, I mean.

"What's your name," she asks after a few seconds of discussion with her "posse". Can this get any more cliche?

"Sebastian," I reply still smiling. They grin at me and the brunette and who seems to be her best friend loop their arms around both of mine.

"I'm Ashley and this is Whitney," the brunette, Ashley says pointing to herself then to Whitney. They look at each other then glance at the girls behind them.

"Girls make sure no losers take our seats would you?" Whitney says in a disgustingly sweet voice. The girls scurry off and I roll my eyes. It actually did get more cliche, I think to myself in disgust.

"So Sebastian, you're new. And hot. Now, we just want to make sure that you don't get into the wrong crowd," Ashley starts condescendingly. I hate it when people talk to me like this. Dear Lord help me.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Whitney says leading him to a table full of cheerleaders and jocks.

"There's us, the popular people of course. We're the people you should hang out with." Ashley states emphasizing the "should". HOLY CRAP! She's gonna start listing all the losers and shit like in fucking High School Muscial or some shit like that. Oh fuck, this is priceless. I snicker quietly but cover it up by coughing.

"And those are the losers," Ashley continues while Whitney points everyone out. I tune them out because 1.) it's too damn funny and 2.) it's ridiculous that she actually thinks like this. At least I don't put people into actual social ladders. Everyone's either a loser or not. barely an subtopics or the stupid stereotypical bullshit. Ashley would've continued talking if it hadn't been for sudden music cutting her off, followed by a singing and dancing group of kids. I was about to turn in my seat to look at them but before I actually could Ashley grips my arm, with her what felt like claws. Goddamn she had a fucking grip, and I do not like being touched by overly flirty, fake ass fuck whores. Which I know I shouldn't say about a girl but that's been the way she's presenting herself. She tugs on my arm and when I refuse to move she puts her hand on the back of my head and shoves it downwards. (I.E. THE FAMOUS HARRY POTTER SCENE WITH PROFESSOR SNAPE, HARRY, AND RON, WHEN HARRY AND RON WERE TALKING BUT PROFESSOR SNAPE KEPT PUSHING THEIR HEADS DOWN. I APOLOGIZE I DO NOT REMEMBER WHICH MOVIE IT WAS IN)

"What is wrong with you?" I ask bewildered and irritated.

"Don't look at THEM!" she shrieks and hisses at me. I give her my what the fuck are you fucking smoking? look. She returns with a you're a fucking idiot glare. Well *CUE MY HUFF OF ANNOYANCE* This bitch!

"Why can't I look at them?"

"They're freaks," she says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"How? They don't sound bad and," I look over my shoulder to see their dancing, "they're dancing is actually pretty good, except for that giant dude...he looks like a constipated zombie...that also needs to pee. The fuck is he doing?" I say and tilt my head to the side trying to figure out if he really is trying to dance or if he actually does need to pee.

"What?!" she shrieks after I make my comment about the bumbling giant. I look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Do not talk about him like that. That is THE Finn Hudson, star quarterback and the most popular guy in school." she says in a mater of fact tone of voice. I roll my eyes at the usual stereotypes. Goddammit all, fucking stereotypes.

"Let me guess, he has a girlfriend head cheerleader? The usual Barbie?"

"That would be Queen Q. Quinn Fabray. She's perfect and they're dating yeah." Ashley states with a but of envy, respect, adoration, and a hint of fear. (I KNOW FINN AND RACHEL WERE DATING IN THIS PART, BUT I DON'T WANT THEM TO. THE IDEA I HAVE FOR THIS STORY SHOULD HAVE RACHEL SINGLE FOR THIS BIT. I APOLOGIZE IF SOME OF YOU DON'T LIKE IT)

"So, if Golden Boy is in whatever that is, why are they freaks?"

"Because of everyone else there. The jocks and Cheerios are the only cool ones in that."

"Cheerios? Like the cereal? Why the hell is cereal associated with that?" I say just to fuck with her. It works too. She gives a gasp of indignation and gives me an evil eye. Ha, as if that actually scares me. Fucking with people is not a sport for me, it's a fucking talent that God gifted me with. Thank you very fucking much.

"The Cheerios are the cheerleaders. The best of the best." She says flipping her ponytail in my face as she turns around to answer one of her "Cheerios". I took advantage of the distraction and turned to look at the singing and dancing kids. Still need to figure out what they're called. I see Mr. Finn Hudson and who I'm assuming is Mrs. Quinn Hudson by the way she looks. Huh, she does look like a Barbie. More like Cinderella actually, but if the fear and respect from Ashley's tone is anything to go off of, it also means that Ms. Perfect is also Ms. Bitch. Hmm, the other two dancers, the Latina with the boobs and the blonde who looks very, naive. Probably her right and left hand girls. Maybe they're like the fucking Mean Girls. (FANGIRL MOMENT! ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK GUYS! YOU GO GLENCOCO...KAY DONE)

Anyways I continue looking at the group, trying to decipher each person, and where they belong on the stupid scale of social hierarchy. But I don't bother looking for more than 5 seconds, they were too easy to place, But then my eyes land on a very short brunette, a very interesting looking brunette. Goddamn she also had a voice and her dance moves were equal if not even better than Ms. Fabray. Hm, brunette was actually kind of pretty. My head tilted to the side again and I was trying to decide if she was pretty enough or not. She caught me looking at her, which I hated; I never get caught, but thats probably because I never actually take the time to look at someone before. She gave me a smile and I smirked, she raised an eyebrow but continued singing with that, what I'm assuming is her's at least, amazing voice. I couldn't tell if it was hers or not, but first of all she seemed like the type to have an amazing voice, you know the dedicated passionate type. Secondly, she was closer to me so it seemed like a logical conclusion. My little internal rant was cut off by Ashley's voice however.

"Don't make eye contact with her! What are you doing?" she shrieks, damn she shrieks a lot, "That's Manhands Berry."

"What the fuck kind of parents name their kids Manhands?"

"That's what it should've been. It's actually Rachel. She's not even worth talking about unless we're insulting her." Ashley says haughtily.

"Careful Ashley, if Puckerman hears you saying that he'll beat up all our asses." A jock states, slightly scared.

"Santana will kick your ass too," Whitney says.

"Fuck Santana she's such a whore. And Puckerman's a Lima Loser, I don't care about him."

"Except for the fact that you're the only girl he refuses to sleep with because you're a bitch to Berry." another Cheerio states, making me snicker.

"Shut up Michelle!"

"It's true."

"Who's Puckerman and Santana?" I ask, wanting to know why these two people were so well known, aside from the obvious fact that they were probably a jock and a Cheerio, that could also scare the living shit out of people if needed.

"Puckerman is the hottest guy here. He's the one with the mohawk," Michelle, I believe, states giving me a pointed look to the guy with a, low and behold, mohawk dancing with Ms. Rachel.

"Santana is the Latina," one of the guys state and he doesn't need to point in order for me to know who she is.

"Who are they anyways, the group." Everyone shares a look before looking back at me.

"New Directions. They're the GLEE club." they all answer.

A.N: Alright that is the end of chapter 3. Hope it wasn't too disappointing. Let me just clear up a few things that I forgot to put in the previous chapter as well as the summary. There is PEZBERRY and PUCKLEBERRY friendship. Since there's PEZBERRY you guys should also know that there's BRITTANACHEL(? I JUST MADE THAT UP IM COMPLETELY BLANKING ON WHAT THEIR SHIPNAME IS) friendship too. And Finn and Quinn are together, Babygate did not happen, but something bad did happen. Rachel and Finn did get together before this, in result of the, said bad thing I previously mentioned, but they did break up. Sorry for the delayed update, so busy with all the holiday stuff, I will try and post faster and write longer chapter. If you have an suggestions, advice, thoughts, anything at all, please review. Thanks for reading guys!
Happy readings and holidays,
The Thoughts of Another Gleek.