Welcome (back)! Next chapter. It seems all a bit rushed, but I don't know how to do it otherwise, since I want to keep it interesting and for Marie-Claire, the episode wasn't very relevant. So I tried to bring some other things in it. I have a hard time writing her dialogue, since I want her to be bitchy, but I found out my strong point isn't insulting people.
Also, how do you guys feel about the appearance of Warblers next chapter? It is a risk because I don't know if they're changed, but I like them too much..

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and the quotes above the chapters belong to the show. I do not own the songs. I do own the main character, though.

Song(s) used: 'You are the moon' - The Hush Sound

Britney 2.0

"Look, I don't mean to be a bitch. Well, actually I do."

Told you. - Sebastian

I'm sure you were fantastic! - Trent

shame u cant join us. Nicky think so 2 - Jeff ft. Nick

She rolled her eyes when she was done reading the text messages. Sebastian was his arrogant self, Trent was overreacting and Jeff was annoying the crap out of her with his poorly written comments. It had always seemed like the blond Warbler made it his own special task to irritate her. He was doing a great job at it. Nick probably kept his reputation as A student better, but he never sent her messages, since he and Jeff were always together. Everyone knew that text messages from Jeff were also from Nick, but the two Dalton boys always added Nicks name, just in case - even though they were aware that their friends just saved them as 'Niff' in their address book and Marie-Claire, who didn't want to be called a friend, just had 'Jeff featuring Nick'.

She preferred not to be named a friend. It came with too many obligations. Also, she wasn't great at being one. The last time someone had depended on her in the name of friendship, that person broke of with her boyfriend because of Marie-Claire's comments on his ridiculous hair, then had decided to try and starve herself because of what Marie-Claire had said about sweet, pink cupcakes with hearts on them. The time before that, a boy who had called himself her friend had ended up being thrown in a dumpster, even though he was a quite popular football player, while she walked away. The very few friendships she had had - there were perhaps five, none of them lasted longer than a week - were broken that way. Or her lovable brother had talked too much.

Maybe her not having friends was what right now increased her troubles. Running away from home hadn't been a great idea. Usually, she thought longer about her actions, took preparations and made well balanced decisions. Music changed her, though. It made her feel boundless, free. Singing was what opened up the more genuine and caring person in herself - the one that she kept pushing away. A song made her reckless and very stupid. So when she had come home that day, it didn't went so well.

The auditorium was empty. Even her light footsteps echoed through the room, which was uncomfortably silent. The air was heavy - or did she only imagine that, thinking about the last time she was here? Slowly, she walked down the large stairs, towards the stage, but she did not move further to stand in the most important stop of the space. Instead, she stepped back and sat down on one of the stairs on the front row. She crossed her legs, let her chin rest on her hand and looked thoughtful at the stage.

~ Five days before ~

She closed the door with a loud bang. Though taking a beating by your father quite often could make a person feel miserable, unworthy of anything and above all very scared, she didn't feel that way. Okay, perhaps she sometimes felt miserable and she knew she was unworthy of some things, but she never really felt scared of her father. Howard had punched and kicked her that many times, that she thought she knew what was the worst she could get. Fear had felt her, instead had appeared anger. And that anger had made things a lot more complicated.

"Marie-Claire!" The angry shout had come from the kitchen. Usually, she would have ignored it, but today was a day she had decided to change. Apart from the fact that she had auditioned for the New Directions - and had been let in, of course -, she now was about to stand up to her father. This was not a first, but it was a last. She walked with pounding heart towards the kitchen, dropping her backpack on the ground in the large hall. "You're late, where are you when I need you?" Howard exclaimed. The grey haired man was convinced that she helped him willingly by letting him beat her. Even though she resisted occasionally.

"Having a life," she shrugged. Before he could say anything, she went on. "Look. I've had enough of this shit. You're not going to beat me every fucking day. I'm not going to take that. You may find me pathetic and only useful as punchbag, but I've found some other use for myself. I'm leaving. And I'm not coming back anytime soon. So good luck with your life. You'll need it." She turned around, knowing what would follow. She didn't provoke him often. Now she had done it and she had went even further than other times - so the price would be higher.

The first blow was in her stomach. His fist bore deep into her body, pushing her backwards. He shoved her into a wall, punched her. She took the beating, letting his hand pain her. She suddenly felt so fragile, feeling everything ache, feeling her anger and all other emotions leaving her, only leaving her numb. Marie-Claire didn't think. She let her shaking legs slide her down on the ground. The kicks came. It was the same old ritual. Howard didn't aim. He never aimed. He just wanted to turn his frustrations into violence. She coughed, breathed painfully.

Then it changed.

It never changed.

She felt how her father dragged her up her feet and pressed her against the wall. His face was close to her, his heavy hands lay on her shoulders. The warmth of his breath. The shaking of his body. The anger in his brown eyes. She became suddenly aware of how close he was. She was nothing to him. Just an irritating teenage girl who he had in his power. She had never feared him. Never feared the beatings. But now, it hit her. All the things that he could do with her. And she would be able to stop him. Because even though she convinced herself that she was strong, she never could take him on. Her face turned pale, her green eyes widened. She was much smaller than him. Her hands began to shake, she trembled.

Howard Smythe looked how his daughter showed fear. For the first time. He loosed his grip, the flames of anger were slowly put out. But Marie-Claire didn't think straight. Though this was normal again and her father now stopped beating her, he had taken her by surprise. She managed to release herself from his grip. With a cry, she pushed him away from her and slapped him in his face. He looked at her with wide eyes and she knew she had gone to far.

Yet the blow on her jaw took her by surprise.

As an unspoken rule, her father had never touched her face. Maybe to keep the cover up, maybe because it was too confronting. But now he hit her in the face. Twice. She was slammed backwards again, but now adrenaline rushed through her body. She grabbed a knife and put it in front of her, pointing it at her father, who shook his head in disbelief. She smirked. Later, she wouldn't know how she had the power to smirk, but she did. Then, she stepped backwards, grabbed her back and ran into her room, closing the door and packing her most precious and most needed belongings.

The air was cold. It had already turned dark - she had indeed been home late, not having been able to take the bus and thus having to walk. Some stars lighted up the night. She sighed, turned around and grabbed the two bags. She threw her backpack for school on her shoulder, having filled it with practical things. In the larger handbag were mostly clothes and some other belongings. One glance at her room. It seemed so empty. She never really realized that, despite how rich she was, she didn't really have much things. A small, sad smile appeared on her face. She turned away, hearing her father come up the stairs and banging on the door. She threw her large bag out of the window, then followed herself, more carefully.

Closing the portal, she looked once more at the huge mansion her father would now be inhabiting alone. Then, she turned away and faced the night alone.

She felt like crap.

She had fallen asleep in the auditorium, which wasn't a big surprise, since she hadn't slept well in days. She didn't need much sleep, luckily. But even she had her limits. Marie-Claire had decided not to turn for help to her brother. She hadn't even told him their father had beaten her, let alone that she had run away from the mansion and hadn't returned. She wondered how long it would take Sebastian to discover her little secret. It wouldn't take him long, she reckoned. Both her brother and she loved blackmail material and knew practically everything about people they either cared about or just thought of as interesting. Since they both had only one person in the first category - okay, maybe Sebastian liked to put Blaine in it as well -, it was updated quite often.

Recently, she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings much. William Schuester had announced Britney week. The New Directioners had seemed quite excited about this, but Marie-Claire didn't really like Britney Spears and she didn't care for Brittany. There was something wrong with the now ex-Cheerio, she got that, but she didn't bother to help her. She was bored watching the performance of Blaine and Artie - she thought the songs were crap - and now she again wasn't touched by the number '3' by Tina, Joe and Sam. Even when Brittany tried to shave her hear off, she had just sat motionless in the back of the room, looking with crossed arms at the shocked faces of the Glee club members.

She did move, though, after she heard shouts in the halls. She slowly walked, together with Blaine, Tina and Artie, to the door. There, she stood still and watched the scene in front of her. Jacob Ben Israel - the most annoying guy she had ever seen - was stalking Brittany, who was shouting to him to leave her alone. Marie-Claire studied it amused, again crossing her arms, her lips curling into a smirk. The Cheerio started hitting the wannabe journalist. Claire had to suppress a biting laugh. Her eyes showed the satisfaction she felt. It was time that Israel learning his place. She wished she would have hit him herself a week ago, but she had decided not to. Instead, she had insulted not only his ugly face, but also his mother and little sister. He had not liked it, but had walked away. Victory had been hers.

"Should we do something?" Blaine asked hesitantly next to her.

"No, he deserves it," Tina responded. For the first time, Marie-Claire found herself agreeing with the girl.

Marie-Claire just looked at Brittany and Israel and didn't listen to what the others said. Only when Blaine called out her name, she turned towards him with a raised eyebrow. He wanted to know what song from Britney she was going do. "None," she answered, shrugging.

"Everyone is going to go one," Artie pointed out.

Tina glared daggers at her. "But little Miss Smythe here thinks she's above the law, doesn't she?" the Asian girl started to speak. "So you're going to do no song? You were just looking with that disapproving look of yours to the song of Blaine and Artie, and now to my song, but you're not going to do one yourself? You're a coward. So, how much does your brother already know about us? Did you tell him everything, sell us away? He's again going to try and corrupt one of us, isn't he? Again going after Blaine, again trying to ruin our lives. You Smythes are worth nothing. You are just watching while Brittany destroys her life. You don't care for anyone, Marie-Claire."

She held her eyebrow raised and looked at the Asian girl. Marie-Claire wasn't tall - she was quite small, not even reaching Blaine's height - but with her arms crossed, her back straight and her piercing green eyes, she could look quite threatening. "You are fucking kidding me. Yes, I do not listen to anyone but myself, but that's about all you got right. I don't like Britney, I'm not going to do a song. Sebastian has nothing to do with this. I didn't now my brother had made such an impression on you, though. Afraid much? We didn't talk, I told him nothing. He wouldn't need it. The Warblers would win with ease from this excuse for a Glee club."

Artie opened his mouth. "Shut it, invalid nerd," she snapped before he could speak. "Look, Asian bitch. Use your brains. You just sang a damn song about counting, so you'd think you would be able to. We haven't even got enough people to be allowed to participate and talent isn't anywhere to be found in this group. And about being worth nothing and not caring, have you looked at yourself? Chang, you're nothing but a bossing around background singer who hasn't even got the ability to be the leader of a high school Glee club for losers."

Tina actually looked hurt by those comments. Blaine - always the peacemaker - tried to step in. "Claire, I don't -"

"Don't try, Switzerland. And trust me, Sebastian won't try to steal you away from your girlfriend. He won't need to, because you won't last another month with that gay face when he is consumed by the big city. Prepare for the real world. You won't be holding hands with someone. You're going to be alone, facing troubles bigger than being kicked out of a cheerleader group. Dumb blonde over there won't last a minute. And neither will you guys if you think you can go like this."

"I'm not a nerd..." Artie muttered. He was late.

Now she laughed. Short, biting. "Then stop dressing like you'd rather be in the Big Bang Theory than in a Glee club," she commented. With that, she turned away from the faces of the New Directioners. The slightly confused expression from Artie, the hurt but above that furious one of Tina and of course the very disappointed one from Blaine.

"We found ourselves a new Santana," Artie whispered.

She didn't respond - not taking the conclusion as an insult. Not at all. She had heard some stories about the bitchy lesbian cheerleader and it didn't bother her that she was know compared to Lopez. The brown haired Smythe walked through the hall and concluded that she had managed to be civil and quite unnoticed for two weeks. Probably a record. She gave a staring junior an arrogant look - causing him to look away - and opened her locker. It was more filled that in the beginning of her school year. Since she had run away from home, she had tried to sleep in the school and her handbag was stuffed into the locker.

Her father hadn't searched for her, had made no move to get her back. The credit card she had taken, had been blocked, though. She had foreseen this and got a large amount of cash, but she had decided not to go and live in a hotel. Marie-Claire would first seek for a good roof above her head, something affordable. And she needed a job. Right now, she had enough money to buy food, but it wouldn't last long. Howard Smythe had apparently decided to keep paying her education. Maybe he thought she was coming back. But she wasn't.

Reluctant, she started walking again, not knowing were to go. There was no class to attend, she had a free period. Somehow, she found herself heading towards the choir room, where voices could be heard. She slowed her pace, listened carefully - spying had never been something she had been ashamed of. It always had turned out to be useful. She walked passed the doorway, seeing Jake in the room, together with a larger guy with a mohawk. It took her some time, but Marie-Claire eventually realized it was Noah 'Puck' Puckerman, an alumni and ex-member of the New Directions.

Brother moment.

Not very touching.

She just listened to the speech the older Puckerman was giving, not moving, standing next to the door, unnoticed by the brothers. Quickly, she decided it wasn't interesting enough. Just some big talk and a bit of crap advice - why the hell would baby Puckerman join the New Directions if he didn't feel like it? The girl started to move away from the room, bored by the dialogue. Though she wasn't really watching her surroundings, she could have been prepared for the sudden confrontation against a body. Not someone in front of her - no. Someone behind her.

"Fuck," she muttered, falling on the ground.

Damn. She hated being embarrassed.

With an angry glance, she looked at the person who had shoved her on the ground. Her bruised body still hurt from the last confrontation she had had with her father - though the blue and purple marks on her face had almost faded away completely. Her green eyes met those of the guy whom she had been eavesdropping on. A frown appeared on her face when Puck extended his hand to her.

"Sorry babe. Didn't see ya there," he said with a small smile on his face, eying her curiously.

Not her type. Not at all.

She pushed herself up, ignoring the hand, and grabbed her back. "Idiot," she said. "Are you blind? It can't be your hair that was in the way." She glanced angrily at him, causing him to loose his interested expression. He frowned. She turned away, started to walk again, but he didn't move, kept looking at her. She stopped and called over her shoulder. "Don't you have date?"

"What?" Noah Puckerman moved forward, grabbed her shoulder.

Ouch. That hurt.

She somehow kept herself from wincing. With a straight face, she studied the expression of the boy.

"That was private," he said begrudgingly.

She smirked. "This is a public school. If you want private, don't go here. And before you ask, no, I'm not interesting in fucking you."

Puckerman loosened his grip. She pulled herself free, raising an eyebrow while looking at him. "Do I know you?" the boy with the mohawk asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Nope. I think you had some nice group chats with my brother, though." He didn't seem to get the hint. She crossed her arms, grinning like the devil. "The name is Marie-Claire Smythe."

Now he got the message. His eyes lighted up - for only a second, then his glance darkened and he stepped forward, standing too close for her comfort, but she didn't show it, making herself as tall as she could, staring at him. "Look bitch. I might be away from the New Directions, but my friends still belong there, and if you do anything to hurt them, I will beat your pretty face to pulp, together with that of your brother," he whispered threatening.

She smirked - again. "You wouldn't be the first who tried. And you wouldn't be the first who failed. Keep your hands on your dates, please." She shook her head. "Don't try to threaten me. Or Sebastian. You'd end up the one being hurt, bastard."

"Ya think I'm afraid? Well, not for you, slut, and not for that man whore."

He had went too far. She shoved him back. "The only whore I see is standing right in front of me," she commented. Before the guy could make a move, she again pushed him away, towards a small room with only cleaning stuff. Puckerman was taken by surprise, looking in the furious green eyes, and stumbled back into the cramped space. Marie-Claire shut the door, trapping him inside the dark, small room. She smirked, waited for a few minutes - just to enjoy the frustrated shouts of the older guy - and then moved away. Someone would find him this day. And otherwise tomorrow morning. Too bad his so called date would miss him.

She didn't expect the next words from behind her, though.

"Please... Let me out..." The broken voice of Noah Puckerman was most certainly not something she wanted to hear. Slowly, she turned around. "Please..."

Marie-Claire raised an eyebrow. If she had been a pure bully, she would have walked away. If she had been any other person, she would have freed the guy, who sounded much to scared for ... well, him. She was a bitch, though, and a tired one, which didn't make things much better. Instead of choosing between those two options, she raised her voice. "What, the original badass doesn't sound so badass now, does he?" She smirked, her eyes showed nothing, but in her head, she was weighing her options.

"Just let me out!"

The more angry shout comforted her, in a strange way. "So, are you sorry for calling me a slut and my brother a man whore?" she asked sweetly.

"Fuck you!"

"Too bad. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, okay! I..."

"Bye!"

"I'm sorry! Just let me out!" The pleading was followed by a sob.

Uncomfortably, she stood still, waiting for another sound, but there was no. She bit her lip, for the first time showing doubt. She moved towards the door, turned the key and opened it, looking inside. Puckerman was sitting on the floor, hugging himself. Though he wasn't crying, his eyes were way too wet for Marie-Claire's comfort and his pale face showed fear. The guy was trembling. He didn't even seem to notice her, even though there was now light in the dark space.

"What's up with you?" she asked harsh.

He didn't answer her.

"Fuck this," she muttered to herself, looking around her. So perhaps she wasn't the most nice girl in the world - she was a bitch. She didn't care for others and especially not those she hardly knew. She was a lot like her brother. And they both had some idea of where the line was laying. She was now staring at the line. A sigh escaped her lips. She took off her jacket and threw it towards Puckerman. It fell on his knees. He moved slightly, staring at the clothing with confusion written all over his face. Marie-Claire turned around, walked towards the closest coffee machine, got a strong cup of the heat drink and brought it back to the still trembling guy.

It was a waste of money, she decided, looking at the cup, then giving it to the boy with the mohawk, who was now sitting in the hallway with his back pressed against a locker. He had her jacket laying on his shoulder and took the cup without words. Immediately, he tried to drink, but only burned his tongue in reward. She shook her head.

"Claustrophobia?"

"Got once locked up for 24 hours..."

"Claustrophobia."

Quietly, the guy drank his coffee. She just leaned against the lockers. This was the second time she was comforting someone. Perhaps she was doing a good job at changing a bit. At being nicer than usually.

"What's with the sudden switch?" Puckerman asked her. "Being nice."

"If you're a bitch, I'm a bitch," she stated. "You aren't being a bitch now."

"Thanks," he whispered.

She didn't respond.

"You're better in it than your brother, you know."

"You can't know that."

"Not sex. Being nice."

"Aha."

She took another sip of her coffee, looking at Noah. After he had cheered up, he had decided not to go on his date, but instead take her to a coffee place where they could talk. They had been sitting now for quite long, discussing how to be a bastard, bitch and badass and how the Glee club was going. She was actually having fun. Though Marie-Claire didn't know why she had accepted his offer, she was quite content she had done it. He at least paid, so she didn't have to worry about the money.

Noah Puckerman could be a jerk, and she quite liked it about him. He reminded her of Sebastian, too. They both loved drinking, sex and bars. And since she had had to put up with all the stories from her brother, she knew quite something about them, and Noah and she had discussed quite some things - apart from the New Directions.

"So, that performance... When is it?"

She looked up, staring confused at Noah. There was something she was missing right now.

"The Britney Spears song?"

"Oh fuck," she muttered, looking at her watch.

Too late.

Noah seemed to understand her movements. "Well, you said you weren't going to perform anyway, right?"

"Yeah, I don't do lip synching. But I have to be there," she shrugged.

"I'll see ya. Text me."

"Sure, later!"

It was a complete disaster.

Marie-Claire was late, but she hadn't missed anything at all. Brittany seemed drunk and was stumbling on the stage, while the New Directions behind her were trying to fix her flaws. It couldn't be more painfully obvious that they were lip syncing. She shook her head in disappointment. Through stories of her brother she had heard that the Glee Club from McKinley High was like a drama show, but that was an understatement. Schuester looked as if he couldn't decide whether to cry or be angry and even Coach Sylvester seemed displeased.

When Marie-Claire joined the New Directions behind the stage, she didn't look at them. In silence, they walked towards the choir room, sitting down on the stairs. It wasn't a surprise to the teenagers when a furious William Schuester entered and held an angry speech. Even the Smythe felt guilty, though she hadn't sang with the others.

"Wait, Marie-Claire," she heard behind her when she wanted to leave the room like the other New Directioners.

"What?" she asked, sounding defensive.

If mister Schuester found this approach insulting, he didn't show it. "Why weren't you with the others, performing?"

"You call that performing?" she said. "I didn't agree with the lip syncing, so I didn't join them." And she had been having coffee with Noah Puckerman, but she wasn't going to tell the Spanish teacher that.

"Even if you didn't agree with their actions, you should have been there," he told her. "I'm disappointed in you. Your audition was amazing - you put all the right emotion in it, you have a good voice. But you lack the team spirit that is essential. I have heard about your brother, though probably not even a part of what all happened. What I do know, is that he made some mistakes. Don't you go that way, too. I know you're a good person. Show your support to the others, be a team player. You must not only be their with victories, but also with losses."

She looked right in his eyes. Her green eyes said nothing, but his spoke more than his mouth. She smiled slightly. He was the first teacher - the first adult, actually - who had made a good impression on her while lecturing. Slowly, she nodded.

He grinned widely. "I'll be expecting a solo next repetition, Marie-Claire." Now she couldn't hide the shock from her face, hearing the unexpected demand. He laughed. "Don't worry, you won't have to do a Britney."

Baby face had decided to listen to his older brother.

He was welcomed warmly in the group - though his face said something else. It was better than how they had 'accepted' her. Tina and Artie had simply turned their back on her, Sam had tried to smile but he'd glared daggers. Wade - Unique, what the hell, she didn't care - had looked at her with a look that she hadn't been able to place. She hadn't bothered to try - it had been a negative one. Blaine and Marley had smiled, okay. Now they did that too. And Joe had muttered something about 'God' and 'second chances'. Not important.

She ignored the younger Puckerman during the song of Marley. There seemed to be happened something between them. Claire knew Marley liked the boy - damn, she couldn't have missed all the glances - but Jake hadn't returned her feelings, from the looks of it. The green eyed girl didn't know what to think of it. She didn't believe in love at first sight, nor at teenage love or marriage. Or anything close to it.

After Marley's song was finished, she walked towards the piano, sat down and faced the New Directioners. "I know some of you have doubts about me, probably since I'm the sister of Sebastian first flirting then fucking Smythe and since I'm a bitch, but I do want to be here, in the Glee club," she said after a short silence. Some smiled, others kept their poker faces. Then she looked to Brittany and started playing.

Shadows all around you as you surface from the dark
Emerging from the gentle grip of night's unfolding arms
Darkness, darkness everywhere, do you feel all alone?
The subtle grace of gravity, the heavy weight of stone

You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear
It floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier
All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas
The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe

I will bring a mirror, so silver, so exact
So precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass
I will set the mirror up to face the blackened sky
You will see your beauty every moment that you rise

Slowly, she played the last notes, then lifted her hands. She had looked at Brittany quite some times during the song, hoping the dumb blonde would understand her message. Because she wasn't going to clarify it. Once again, she only showed her emotions through music. William Schuester applauded, along with the others - even Tina and Artie. Blaine smiled. Could that guy never be angry? She had insulted him, his friends and his boyfriend, yet he still seemed to like her.

"It's a very pretty song," Brittany commented. "I like the moon. But you should sing it again tonight, because she's sleeping right now."