"Alright, that's it." Puck slapped his hands down on his knees and stood, garnering the curious looks of his peers.
"I ain't just gonna sit here and pout about whatever shit we're even pouting about like a bunch of babies."
"The hell you suggest then Puckerman? Have of us just got our asses kicked by y'all, the other half won by beating the other half. We're not exactly in a good position." Quinn said, flicking her gaze over to the Trebletones huddled together on the far side of the bleachers.
"Well, we gotta get ready for Regionals right?" He stood in the middle of the room, looking around. Mr. Schue had yet to show up and the delinquent was sick of just sitting around doing nothing, for once in his life he wanted to get up and do something.
"Well of course, but what about Mr. Schuester?" Rachel asked, confused by her friend's sudden jump to attention.
"When does Schuester ever start planning early? I ain't saying we gotta start doing choreography and shit but c'mon, we gotta get some rock in this place. And not that old school rock and roll."
"What kind of rock then? You aren't going to make us listen to you scream into a microphone like some Satan worshipper are you?" Mercedes asked as Tina rolled her eyes, as did Puck and surprisingly, Rachel.
"One, that's actually good music if you listen to the music, it's very emotionally charged and powerful. Two, I doubt we'd ever perform something like for fear of scaring off the judges and frankly, the majority of the audience." Rachel started, only stopping when Puck sent her a mild look. She closed her mouth and motioned for him to continue.
"Like Jewbabe said. And no, not that kinda rock. I'm thinkin' more pop-rock." He said, grabbing a microphone from one of the many on the charger near the stereo.
"What's pop-rock?"
"It's like pop-punk, at least I believe that's what Noah is referring to." Rachel said, leaving a hint of question.
"Right, like Blink and Sum and Paramore. Alternative basically, doesn't fall in pop, doesn't fall in rock. And if you guys actually pulled your heads out of your asses, you'd know we'd kick major ass doing some songs like that."
He tapped the mic a couple times and plugged his iPod in, the band shrugging and going about their business. If they knew the song, they'd join in. He was sure Rachel and Tina knew it, considering he had played it around Rachel multiple times and she had come to love the band. And Tina because she was into these kind of songs, so Mike probably knew it too. And he was sure Quinn knew it, since she got him into the band during her brief stint of living with him.
"We gotta stop worrying about pointless shit. We kick ass and we're gonna keep kickin' ass." He started, settling the mic in the stand and hit play.
It started like a gospel song, with church bells ringing and he started clapping. Rachel squealed happily and started clapping along, with Kurt and Blaine joining in. The trio hurried up behind him, still clapping along and soon Tina and Mike had hopped up and joined, with Brittany tugging Quinn up too as Santana refused to stand, her arms crossed against her chest.
This sinking feeling sets,
It feels just like a hole inside your chest.
I know you're thinking,
No, no, no, no, it is easier said than done,
But please let me attest.
I know it's hard.
You're feeling like you're trapped,
But that's how you react,
When you cannot see the light.
But try and see the light.
They all continued clapping as Puck acted like he was reading a sermon, leaning forward and stepping in time with the claps.
I'm tellin' you,
No, no, no, no,
You're the only one
Standing in your way,
Just take a breath, relax, and tell me…
The group burst into a frenzy as the music ramped up in tempo, everyone clapping singing out "Whoa" in the background as Puck surged forward to the rest of the group, smirking and singing. Artie wheeled forward and joined, with Finn giving in and joining as well.
Why?
Please tell me why do we worry?
Why?
Why do we worry at all?
Why?
Just tell me why do we worry?
When worry is never helping tell me
Why?
Why worry at all?
The tempo slowed back down and they calmed, Mr. Schue pausing outside the door to watch the commotion that was brewing in the room. He could hear the music from down the hall, even heard part of Puck's speech and he was surprised to say the least.
Why do we insist,
On crossing bridges that do not exist?
Let's take these issues
Step by step by step, to work it out,
Day by day by day we're falling down,
But life goes on.
I've got some questions,
The background singers stood in two rows on either side of him, back to clapping and he looked at Rachel first.
Are you sick of feelin' sorry?
Uh huh,
They all chimed in, Rachel nodding and he pointed at Kurt next.
And people sayin' not to worry?
Uh huh,
Kurt nodded and Puck spun to face the rest of the group, breaking down into a fast paced word play.
Sick of hearing this hakuna matata motto,
From people who won the lotto,
We're not that lucky.
Have you noticed that you're breathing?
He turned back to Finn, who nodded along with a grin on his face.
Uh huh,
Look around and count your blessings,
Uh huh,
So when you're sick of all this stressin' and guessin' I'm suggestin' you turn this up and let them hear you sing it.
It ramped back up once again, with the group throwing their hands in the air like a gospel church and staying in their rows as Puck sang, strutting down the middle. The Trebletones still refused to join and strode towards them.
Why?
Please tell me why do we worry?
Why?
Why do we worry at all?
Why?
Just tell me why do we worry?
When worry is never helping tell me
Why?
Why worry at all?
He stopped in front of them, opening his arms and singing. Mercedes groaned and finally joined in, dragging Sugar up with her. Santana stayed sitting, deadest on not joining.
Chin up, quit actin' like you're half dead.
Tears can only half fill how you're feelin'.
Don't worry, be happy baby.
Puck finally grabbed Santana and yanked her up, though she didn't give much resistance.
Stand up, life is too damn short,
That clock is ticking.
Man up, if ya feel me,
Everybody sing it.
The instruments fell out, leaving the group to fill in the beats with claps and Puck stomped his boot clad feet, clapping along as he walked down the row, the rest chiming in. At this point, Mr. Schuester quickly slipped into the room and leaned against the wall, watching the performance coming from the boy and the group.
Why?
Please tell me why do we worry?
Why?
Why do we worry at all?
Why?
Just tell me why do we worry?
When worry is never helping tell me
Why?
Why worry at all?
Everyone jumped back into action, still clapping but dancing in circle with Puck in the middle, pointing at each of them as he sang each line.
Why?
Please tell me why do we worry?
Why?
Why do we worry at all?
Why?
Just tell me why do we worry?
When worry is never helping
I'm not buying what they're selling
So if worry's never helping tell me
Why,
Why?
Worry at all?
Puck threw his arms up at the end and they burst into cheers, being pulled into a group hug and Mr. Schue finally made his presence known. Everyone turned and stared at their teacher, Puck even rubbing his neck in embarrassment.
"Puck, that was amazing! I didn't know you had it in you!" Mr. Schue clapped on the back, laughing slightly and grinning.
"Guys, I think Puck just gave us our group number for Sectionals and Puck," The mohawked boy looked up, "You're going to be singing lead."
Puck's eyes widened a fraction and Rachel squealed, hugging him and jumping up and down while the rest of the group patted him on the back and congratulated him. Quinn pulled Rachel away after a solid minute of fangirling, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she went and Puck grinned and turned to the group.
"And that, is why pop-punk kicks ass." He announced, another round of cheers engulfing the room.