BY VERY DEFINITION
3. Under Fire
That night Parker laid on her bed. She stretched out so her feet were by her pillow, her head was by the foot of the bed and she held a book in front of her. She was supposed to be reading Fasting, Feasting for an English assignment but she couldn't recall ever reading such an uninteresting book. She sighed and rolled over on her back. Her room was small, it was technically a renovated closet in a section of the attic, but it crammed in her bed, a chair, and a set of drawers. The walls were white plaster, as was the ceiling, the floor was hardwood, the furniture was oak, her bedspread was white and plain. She hated it. Parker would have loved to decorate it, but since she was convinced that she wouldn't be staying for any kind of permanency she didn't. There was a soft knock on the door, Parker sighed and lowered her book.
"Come in." She said politely. The door opened and Rhonda stepped in.
"Hey Parker, I was just coming to check on you." She said, standing in the doorway. Like Cattle, Parker thought.
"I'm fine." Parker answered, bringing the book back to her and trying to find her place.
"What are you reading?" Rhonda asked, taking a step into the room. Parker turned the book to show her the cover, "I've never read that." Rhonda commented, "Is it good?"
"It's horrible." Parker answered flatly.
"Well, what's it about?" Rhonda took another step into the room.
"I don't know." Parker said with all the attitude of a teenager, looking at the cover again, "There's this girl in India, and her sister gets all the guys, her brother's spoiled and nobody likes her. Umm....her name's Uma. She didn't do well in school and eventually she grows old living with her bossy parents that don't seem to give her the time of day."
"That doesn't sound too boring." Rhonda said consolingly.
"You haven't read it." Parker grumbled.
"Then read me a bit." Rhonda insisted. Parker looked at her for a minute before marking her page and flipping the book back to a random page in the first chapter.
"'Mama said, 'In my day, girls in the family were not given sweets, nuts, good things to eat. If something special had been bought in the market, like sweets or nuts, it was given to the boys in the family. But ours was not such an orthodox home that our mother and aunts did not slip us something on the sly.' She laughed, remembering that—sweets, sly.'" She read. then looked back at Rhonda, "Maybe that's not bad for a passage but the entire book is written that way."
"Oh." Rhonda said, standing like cattle again, "How's school going?"
"I'm reading this stupid book in English, I'm apparently in over my head in Spanish, I didn't take the prerequisite for my Math class, History is going okay so far and I'm not creative enough for my art class." Parker answered promptly. Rhonda searched for a response that wouldn't offend her foster-daughter.
"Maybe if you looked at it on the bright side, you'd do better." She suggested. Parker rolled her eyes thinking; They had to put me with a family of optimists.
"Maybe." Parker agreed without feeling. Rhonda looked around the room.
"I hadn't noticed how bland this room is." She observed, "You just put up pictures or posters or things. We should just decorate it! And maybe you could spread trinkets or something out on the drawers to make it look like someone actually lives here, eh? And maybe we could go shopping for colored bedding, and some pillows too. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"I suppose I could do that." Parker said slowly. I could put up some posters, she thought, even if I'm not here very long. It'd be nicer.
"Well," Rhonda said finally, "I suppose I'd better go get dinner ready."
"Sure." Parker turned her attention back to her book.
The next day in Glee club Mr. Schuester stood up front, he handed out sheet music for the next song.
"Good luck, Rachel." He said quietly as he handed her the solo.
"No luck needed." Rachel responded, beaming. Parker, who was sitting in between Mercedes and Kurt, turned to each of her companions and raised her eyebrows.
"Mr. Schue." Kurt said.
"Yes Kurt?" Mr. Schue asked, still handing out the music.
"Mr. Schue, I think that Parker should get the solo." The room froze.
"But she just got here, she hasn't earned it yet." Rachel said quickly.
"You got solos when you were new." Mercedes countered.
"Well, yes, but I.." Rachel started.
"I don't care." Mercedes said, "Just because she isn't you doesn't mean she can't get a solo. She's a singer."
"We've heard her." Kurt added, "And I also think, especially given the song, that she can sing it better than you." Rachel's mouth dropped open, Parker smirked and Mr. Schue looked confused.
"That's very generous of you two to ask, I agree that Parker certainly does have talent. But I think Rachel will do well with this song. Don't worry Parker, we'll find a solo for you." He assured her. Parker just shrugged, looking uninterested. "Rachel." Mr. Schue invited. Rachel went up to the front of the room and kept her cutting gaze on Parker as the music started.
"Well, you've got your diamonds and you've got your pretty clothes
And the chauffeur drives your car
You let everybody know
But don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire
Your mother she's an heiress, owns a block in Saint John's Wood
And your father'd be there with her
If he only could
But don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire
Your old man took her diamond's and tiaras by the score
Now she gets her kicks in Stepney
Not in Knightsbridge anymore
So don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire
Now you've got some diamonds and you will have some others
But you'd better watch your step, girl
Or start living with your mother
So don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire
So don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire"
The music came to an end and the club applauded, no one particularly overwhelmed, they'd heard Rachel sing like that a thousand times over. Rachel's eyes swept over her club members to see them clapping and then her eyes went back to Parker's, where they had been the entire performance. Instead of seeing Parker look impressed, or acknowledge the applause, Parker just stared her down like a lion watched it's prey. Rachel was unnerved by this shy girl's new found confidence.
"Very good." Mr. Schue said, coming back to the front.
"Could have been better." Kurt commented too quietly for Mr. Schuester to hear. Mercedes and Parker smiled appreciatively, Rachel sent the group another death glare.
After the most people had left the room Parker approached Rachel.
"I don't want you to hate me." Parker said, Rachel looked around her, finding the room was empty and Parker was blocking her way out.
"Why's that? You don't seem to like me very much yourself." Rachel said.
"I don't like people like you." Parker clarified, "In general. But I don't even know you, and you don't know me. Some people explained you to me because that very first day I came into this club you were glaring at me the entire time. I hadn't sung, I hadn't even said a word, and you already labeled me an enemy."
"I know I can be self-centered and abrasive.." Rachel started.
"That's not an excuse." Parker interrupted, "Just because you know about it it doesn't make it better. Actually, it might even make it worse. But here's the thing that you really need to be concerned about: you know you're self-centered, and you're not the only one like that. It only takes two selfish people to destroy them both. Sometimes it's really not in your best interests to be concerned about yourself. Just remember that." Rachel scanned Parker up and down quickly.
"You're still my competition." She said stiffly.
"You haven't even hear me sing!" Parker responded, becoming more exasperated by the moment. Rachel straightened.
"Even so. I'll still look out for me. I didn't mean to offend you, but that's not going to stop me from trying to do the only thing I'm good at."
"I think you're in for a reality check."
"Excuse me?"
"Look, if you think that singing is the only thing you're even a little bit good at you're already selling yourself short."
"What else are you good at?" Rachel asked scornfully. Parker was silent. "That's what I thought. We have our gifts. And I don't even know what yours is like. And why you came here from Michigan. And...why do you always wear those gloves?" She asked distractedly. Parker glanced down, she was wearing the same elbow-length striped cut-off gloves that she never took off. Parker but her hand on one of them self-consciously.
"None of your business." Parker murmured. Rachel made a face, like she was trying to smile but found herself too bitter to pull it off, and she walked around Parker and out of the room. Parker turned and watched her leave. She looked around, the room was dark with the lights out. Feeling disgruntled, Parker sat down her bag and sat down in a chair. Parker then stood again and turned to face the empty chairs, pretending there was an audience there that was ready to hear her sing.
"Everybody has a dream"
She smiled slightly and continued,
"Everybody has a dream.
While in these days of quiet desperation
As I wander through the world in which I live
I search everywhere for some new inspiration
But it's more than cold reality can give
If I need a cause for celebration
Or a comfort I can use to ease my mind
I rely on my imagination
And I dream of an imaginary time
Oh oh, and I know that everybody has a dream
Everybody has a dream, everybody has a dream
And this is my dream, my own
Just to be at home and to be all alone
If I believe in all the words I'm saying
And if a word from you can bring a better day
Then all I have are these games that I've been playing
To keep my hope from crumbling away
So let me lie and let me go on sleeping
And I will lose myself in palaces of sand
And all the fantasies that I will be keeping
Will make the empty hours easier, easier to stand
And I know that everybody has a dream
Everybody has a dream, everybody has a dream
And this is my dream, my own, just to be at home
And to be all alone, all alone
I know that everybody has a dream, oh oh, everybody has a dream
I know that everybody has a dream, everybody
Everybody, everybody, everybody has
Everybody has a dream, I know that
Everybody
Everybody has a dream
Everybody has a dream, everybody has
Everybody has a dream"
Parker stopped, she couldn't help but notice that there was no applause. Not even the fake, sarcastic clap that Rachel had received earlier that day. She bit her lip unhappily and went back to her bag. She picked it up and slung it over her shoulder.
"Rachel Berry, give me the time of day." She said to the room. Her voice echoed and she managed another smile before leaving the room.
Ah-ha! Two songs this time! Which makes up for last time and there should probably be more than one in a chapter anyway. Oh well :/
The songs from this one are "Play With Fire" By The Rolling Stones and "Everybody Has a Dream" By Billy Joel.
I picked the Billy Joel one based on the lyrics so I haven't actually heard the song, my apologize if it's horrible and I just put it in my story. I'd look it up if I weren't in class right now. Maybe I'll remember later...
Also, the Book Fasting, Feasting by Anita Desai. I feel for Parker, I had to read that book for a class last year and it was torture! I haven't met a single person who read it and liked it. It got better toward the end but it was just...tedious.
ANYWAY I don't write without reviews so REVIEW!
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