Thank you again to all who've read and reviewed this story. It really means a lot. I have to say, this chapter is by far my favorite one to have written. I don't want to press onto you. I know you're all shivering with anticipation. And now, let us move onto the next chapter.

Every phrase that leaves your lips
Makes me feel as if I'm paralyzed
Talking is trivial, sing another crazy note
And I will be a third below
The troubles that we knew before
Disappear and all I know is that
It makes no difference where you come from
I don't care if you need my love
You know I'll be there
I swear I want to sing to the world
No need to keep it a secret
You are the one, the only
My musical soul mate
Musical Soul Mate – Mark Salling

It was Monday when I decided to join the living world again. I had successfully become a hobbit and held up in my house, drinking wine and eating pretzels—with the occasional delivered pizza from the Pizza Hut down the block. I didn't want to be bothered after seeing already three of the people I used to call my friends. Sure, they were nice, but there was that feeling there that they were judging me still. Everyone had to have known that I didn't follow my dream—that I couldn't have because of the rejection I would have faced. I didn't know about anyone else, but I'm sort of sensitive when it came to things like that.

After seeing Mercedes that day earlier, I went straight home and didn't even bother to put the groceries away before opening one bottle of that Moscato that I bought. I usually didn't resort to drinking to forgetting my troubles. However, if anyone else was in my position, they'd either laugh about it or drink. Since I was in no state of mind to be laughing, I drank. I wasn't a very strong drinker. I usually felt dizzy after one, but I downed the bottle by myself anyway. Typically, when I was alone and needed a release from my mind, I wrote—I'm a writer, it's what I do.

But leave it to me to forget my journal up in my apartment in New York.

I ventured out early that Monday to go on my quest to find a new journal. I used the internet connection that my parents still had up on the house—which I didn't understand why, but then again they had money to burn now that my brother and I were gone—and found that there was a stationary shop in Perry, just outside the city. Naturally, with my addiction to lovely journals, I had to make the trip. True, it was the day where I had to go to McKinley to meet up with the new Glee club and I was as nervous as it was walking into the hallways of my alma mater, but shopping for something I loved would calm me, and that was how I ended up right outside the newest bookshop and stationary store in Perry, Ohio.

The shop itself looked like it was transported from the fifties. Did David Tennant show up in the middle of nowhere and just grabbed me along with him for a time jump? I would have been all for it if I knew where I was going. I shook my head and laughed at myself for my joke. It was then that I turned my attention back to the little shop in front of me. The flower pots outside the door screamed small town—as was the township of Perry was supposed to be. The building was made of brick and the sign had a lovely scrawl that I felt should have been familiar to me. I really should learn to trust my feelings.

I walked into the store and was instantly hit with the smell of new books. How I loved that smell. My heels clacked against the tile that lay on the floor of the shop and I noted for the first time that day that I was alone in the store. The smile on my face couldn't leave me if it tried after I learned that fact, it was pure gold. I looked around slowly, of course, crossing my arms over my ruffled blouse to get a good sense of direction before I spied where the journals were kept. Naturally, I ran right over and began to browse.

I wasn't particularly choosy about which type of journal I preferred, but I would take ages upon ages just to choose one. I already had a plain leather bound black journal in my hand before I spied a hard covered faux wood one. They were both the same price, both had the same amount of lines in them and both were exactly the same size. This was why I rarely went shopping by myself. I was an impulse shopper. If I can't choose between one, I'd buy them both. But who would buy two journals at the same time? It wasn't as if I collected them like Taylor Swift.

I turned to look around to find someone that was able to help me and smiled when I saw someone stacking new parchment paper on a display table. I could only see the back of his head, but he had on the traditional bookshop apron around him telling me that I could get help. I walked slowly of course, not wanting to catch him off guard. "Excuse me", I spoke when I got close to his stature. "I need help with a recommendation."

"Of course", he turned around and I gasped, eyes widening. I knew it—I should have followed my instinct instead of being selfish. And now here I was, meeting up with one of my old New Directions members once again. Did someone up there think that this cruel joke was amusing? I inwardly groaned when he asked the inevitable.

"Tina", Ladylips spoke. That's right. Sam Evans didn't change one bit—not at all. He filled out more—but that was because I heard he had been playing college football in his days. I wonder why he stopped. The goofy smile broke onto his big lips and I nodded, smiling to show him that I remembered him too. "Sam", I said, confirming my suspicions. He nodded to show that I was right. And then there came the hug. I accepted it just like the other ones—three pats on his back and I pulled away.

"You work here", I asked of him, curious as to why one of the golden boys of McKinley High who had the choice to leave continued to stay back here and run a book shop nonetheless. "I own this place", he replied and I nodded. Of course he did. Since when was our Glee club full of business people? "Well, Quinn and I own it."

Ahh, there it was. Quinn was the type to own the bookstore and Sam was hopelessly in love with her during high school that I didn't question it. I smiled, knowing that at least one high school relationship was held in regard and dear towards marriage—but even so, this was Christian Quinn that I was talking about. The girl used to pray while she made out with Finn and Sam—separately, of course. And there was that wedding band on his left hand as well. What did you know?

"Oh, wow. That's something", I said genuinely, a smile on my face as I continued to hold both of the journals in my hand. I wanted to just pay and book out of there. Screw the fact that I'd have to buy both of them. "How long have you guys been married then", I asked curiously. Of course I wasn't put out that I wasn't invited to the wedding—nor was I invited to Artie and Mercedes', and they were my friends longer than Sam had been.

"Going on six years now", he said proudly, digging into his wallet and pulling out a picture. Oh my god, he was going to show me their wedding picture. I didn't take Sam to be an old softie like that. "Our twins are three now, see", he said beaming while showing me the picture of he and Quinn with two little blonde baby girls. I couldn't help but melt. God damn it, Sam. Why did he have to make me go soft? I smiled wide, pushing the picture towards him again when I got a good look at it. "Congratulations, then Sam. You look like you make a great father." I wasn't lying when I said that. During school, Sam had a protective streak and I was quite proud of the way he stood up to Karofsky when he threatened Kurt—but I couldn't voice that to Mike, who I was dating at the time.

"Thank you", he said, a drawl to his voice before he put the picture back in his wallet and turned his attention back to me. "We're bringing them to the Glee reunion too. Are you going to be there?" I nodded my answer to him. This was my moment to make a break for it. "I'm meeting with the new Glee director today at McKinley, actually. I'm here on assignment on my boss, first and foremost. I'm a writer, you know", I rambled. "And I forgot my journals back at home, so here I am", I said as I handed him both journals. So I keep one and use the other one later. I didn't give a damn. "And I'm kind of running a little bit late."

I didn't know where that lie came from, but it worked. "Of course", he said as he moved over to the counter in the back, ringing up my items. All the while he kept shooting glances at me. I was confused. Of course, I only had on a pencil skirt and a blouse. My hair was up in a ponytail and my make up done light instead of heavy like I had it in school. Did I make that drastic of a change? I had to if I wanted to work in the field I worked in. I had to be professional.

"Maybe you should come around often, Tina. Like, for sure, I know a lot of people miss you. Hell, Rachel even has a house in Lima and visits often with her husband, why can't you?" I could only open my mouth at him. How dare he ask such a…a…Sam-ish question? At least he wasn't speaking Navi or whatever the Avatar language was. I shook my head, keeping a faint smile on my face before looking upward. "I don't know, Sam. It's complicated. How much is it? I have to be back in Lima in a bit." He nodded and I paid, telling him to tell Quinn I said hello and that I'd see him at the reunion before walking out of the store with a goodbye and a smile.

I take back everything I said. That was the most awkward situation I've been in to date—even more when I caught my brother and his wife going at it in the den that one time.

After the encounter with Sam, I realized that nothing could be lower than him just asking me to visit more. I already felt like pure cow paddy when I arrived in the visitor's parking lot at McKinley High, my facial expression showed my emotions exactly to the t. I pulled down my visor, opening the cap to the mirror while checking myself over. I was fine, I was great, and I pulled off the best poker face I could muster before getting out of my car. I laughed when I turned my head and looked at the marquee. The students still changed the letters whenever they could, so now the sign read "ass crack" instead of what it was supposed to be. Those were some good times.

The walk to the main office was the same, and I suddenly felt like I was sixteen again, in my lady demon clothes, being accused of being a vampire. I mildly wondered if Principal Figgins or Sue Sylvester was in charge—but I didn't recognize their voices over the phone. Granted, my assistant took the call and never told me the name of the principal—but I could hear some of the conversation through the receiver.

What had I gotten myself into?

The front doors opened with ease and I was happy when I came when all of the students were in class—except for the few stragglers that were skipping whatever period that day. The main office, where the principal's office was situated right in front of the school and everyone could see it when they walked in. The process to acquire a visitor's pass and to see the principal was simple enough. I walked in, stated my name to the secretary and was shown to one of the glass offices of the school—the same office that Principal Figgins had used.

But even then, the principal was out, running a little bit late with the staff meeting that the teachers with the free periods would have and I nodded. I would wait—after all, I had all of the free time in the world. What was there to do in Lima? Nothing. And I needed the principal to help me walk to the Glee choir room and introduce me to the teacher. I sat down on one of the couches in the office and put my purse and journal beside me. By now, I would have checked my blackberry to see if I had any new emails, but the school had a wireless blocker—I could see it in the corner of the office.

Come on, Lima. It was the twenty-first century. Everyone needs their cell phone these days.

It didn't take long for the lock to click in the office again and I stood up, smoothing down my pencil skirt to look at the principal. "Mr. Schuester", I asked when he came into full view, the same smile on his face as I remembered it eight years prior. Unlike the others, I was happy to see him. This was the man that told me to pursue my dreams, no matter how off putting and scary they were—and I did, after I settled and found a new one.

"Actually, It's Principal Schuester now", he said proudly, pointing to the name plate he kept hidden behind a picture of himself and another woman. I smiled at the thought of Mr. Schue remarried. He deserved happiness, even if everyone thought he was just a bit creepy with the way he went about things. He was passionate and I admired that about him—not like Brittany and Santana who wanted to get into his pants, of course.

We caught up, laughing and smiling at the past and present, and hoping towards the future. I asked him about the Glee reunion and he nodded, giving me a smile. "Of course, I'm coming", he told me, leaning back in his seat. He had a knowing smile on his face and I returned it with one of mine. Of course he would be coming. Glee was like his baby—we were all like his babies. I felt like the prodigal daughter returning home. God, it felt awful and wonderful at the same time.

He stopped me when it came time to switch periods. Glee club and class was meeting at this time and he wanted me to meet the kids that I'd be writing about as well. The class room remained the same, and I sat at the piano bench as I saw the kids walk in to the room. I saw the same rag tag bunch of misfits that I saw in my old group. It was scary eerily how alike the two groups were, but I didn't comment. I talked to a couple of the students—more like the Rachel Berry of the group asking me how New York is. I replied the best that I could before the teacher walked in.

"Alright, alright", the voice said and I gasped. Was it him, really? And damn did he look that good all the time now. "We have a visitor to our class, she's going to be featuring us in an article in the New Yorker—where is she? Usually she's wearing lady demon clothes", he laughed, teasing me without actually seeing me. His eyes scanned and I stood up, walking over to him. Oh dear god, he even smelled good, and there was no wedding band on his hand. Granted, everyone in my class probably had a crush on him at one time or another, but this was different—he was different in his tie, white collared shirt, and black slacks. Dare I say it? He looked…delicious.

My voice was tentative, shaky even. It had been a while since I found a guy that I actually could see myself fucking.

"Finn? Finn Hudson?"

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