Hi guys (girls, whatever). It's a long time ago, I know, I know. I'm really sorry, but I just didn't know what to do. I had two choices for where to go with this story. Decision is finally made. Some will be happy, others won't. Thanks for reviewing EllenMai, Damselindestress98, JoeyKangarooGirl and especially punkfreak561 and a guest, who both encouraged me to go writing again!

One thing I can promise you, by the way. It might take a while, but I will finish this story. Every episode will be a chapter. You can do the maths.

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: 'Bulletproof' - My Chemical Romance

Diva

"I think you need to be somewhere that's as big and as hot as you are. It's okay to follow your dreams."

Marie-Claire wrapped her fingers around the cold cup. Her coffee would probably taste horrible after a whole hour without even sipping, but she didn't have the energy to move. Her legs were curled up under her body. She had managed to find an empty seat in the Lima Bean, which was filled with people.

If only no one from the New Directions came in. Or the Warblers – but they hardly ever went far from Dalton since the new Starbucks was opened. And since the steroids 'scandal'. But she didn't like to think about that. The students from McKinley reminded her enough about it.

"Claire, please wait!" Blaine exclaimed.

Marie-Claire smashed her locked shut, not looking at the boy. Maybe it was childish, but she really needed to ignore him, because if she said even a word, it would probably be intended to demolish him. She slung her backpack on her shoulder.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he questioned for the thousandth time.

Not again. She turned around, finally giving up. "Isn't it fucking obvious?" Blaine winced. "You brought down my family, asshole. And I'm not about to forgive that so easily." She was trying to be nice. She really was. She could have commented on his failing relationship with Kurt, on his hopeless crush on Sam, on his corrupt friendship with Tina, on his horrible leadership.

She didn't. She had grown to be a bit nicer person – copying Sebastian's new leaf philosophy.

"I didn't…"

"Oh don't tell me you didn't know," she snapped.

Blaine smashed his hand against the wall. "They cheated!" he cried out.

Marie-Claire stepped forward, coming face to face with Blaine. "We. We. Didn't. Cheat. It's not what you think, Anderson. It's so damn more complicated that I'm not going to even try to explain. It's not your fucking business anyway. You left the Warbler, betrayed them. You aren't part of the family anymore, no matter how much they wanted you to. So don't expect us to let you join in on this," she spoke, her words cold, her attitude calm. She was perfectly in control.

Blaine just turned white. He didn't ask.

She wondered if she had wanted that.

Her coffee rudely interrupted her thoughts. Without really thinking, she had taken a small sip of the cold liquid. Her eyebrows furrowed and she immediately put the cup down on the table next to her. The couch was quite comfortable, she had occupied a corner, people sitting everywhere. With every time the door opened, she looked up, afraid that it would be someone she knew. Or, even worse, someone who only was interested in the steroids scandal.

Then again, no one would recognize her. She was part of the family, but not part of the actually performing group most knew. She closed her eyes. David had done his work properly. The scandal had kept a low profile due to his effort, but there was still talked about it. The student body was split into two parts – one half supported them, the other fought against them. The Warblers reputation had grown controversial.

"Meatbox, leave it," Nick ordered softly, putting a hand on the other boy's arm.

Meatbox looked back, nodding quietly, stepping back. He breathed in deeply, trying to keep calm, something that he usually did easily. It was different lately, though. All the Warblers were stressed. Even David, Nick, and Jeff, who tried to keep everyone together, walked around with bags under their eyes and pale skin. Hunter hardly ever left his room – Dalton had forbidden him from showing up for classes for a whole month. He needed to do his schoolwork in his room.

"Come on, we're leaving," Jeff said sadly, shaking his head. Some of the guys from the lacrosse team had been bothering Flint and Meatbox – the former had already fled the scene, while the latter had wanted to confront the sport team.

They walked through the hall, trying to ignore the comments shouted after them. Jeff had to grab Marie-Claire's shoulder and push her forward a bit. She'd rather turn around and insult them in Smythe style. "Where's Sebastian?" Nick asked her, fitting to her thoughts.

She shrugged. "I don't know." Of course she knew. Her brother and she had made it their duty to take care of Hunter. He was with their captain – former captain? – in his room.

"No offense, MC, but our captains are hardly ever around," Nick said annoyed.

"Especially when we need them," Jeff added darkly.

Meatbox and she shared a concerned look.

When Niff started talking like that, they were in deep shit.

Even when she was exhausted like this, she couldn't fall asleep. McKinley was tiring her out – not the classes, which were easy, or the homework, which she never had, but avoiding her fellow Glee club members. And at Dalton, she left the constant pressure to stay strong for the Warblers, not let them down when her brother and her … what? date? … weren't there. There was the stress of the civil war that was occurring in the hallway.

Coffee wouldn't help to make her get rest, of course. But she didn't want to go to either school. She just wanted some time alone. Without Glee clubs, students who looked up at or down to her, teacher who had their expectations. The constant stare of the headmaster on her. The stalkers she had gained due not showing up to rehearsals.

"Where were you yesterday?" Tina appeared behind her.

"It was Glee practice," Artie – what was Artie doing there? – added needlessly.

Marie-Claire groaned, rubbing her temples. "There was a reason why I was sitting down at the loser table," she explained, making a gesture towards the bunch of outcasts right to her. She took a bite of her apple, looking straight ahead.

Tina sat down in front of her, though. Marie-Claire raised her eyebrows and was about to say something when the Asian girl started to speak again. "I don't know why you're protecting those cheating losers, but that doesn't matter. Just know that we can kick you off the New Directions any time we want. Everyone knows I can take your solos."

Marie-Claire huffed amused. "I don't have any solos. Always the same people get those and let me break the news to you, Cohen-Chang, we don't belong to that group. Neither does Wheelchair over there, or Jesus boy or that spoilt child. Don't imagine you have any significance to the group apart from standing in the background and lip-syncing a bit."

Tina looked downright furious. "Sorry? You –"

"No I'm not sorry, yes I dare," she said tiredly. "Can you just get your Asian ass out of here? And Wheels, too, please." Artie started to move, Tina, too. Marley and Jake passed by, looking hesitant. The brown haired girl glanced at her. "Marley," Marie-Claire said quietly. The sophomore was beside her instantly. Marie-Claire knew the girl hadn't forgotten her strange support in their first days at McKinley. "Tell them that I'll be back in about two weeks or something. I know the club can't live without my bitchy comments, but you'll have to deal."

It bothered her that Marley just nodded and Jake walked after her like a puppy.

Maybe Marie-Claire should get a new coffee. Or maybe not. The queue was far too long. There was a switch in the employees going on, too, which meant it would only take longer. She sighed. No hot drink for her anytime soon. Her iPhone kept buzzing. Probably texts from the boys – when they needed to get her, where. She didn't care.

She managed to get the mobile out of the pocket of her jacket and put it on the table, next to her cup. The constant smell of coffee beans was addicting. She had opened her eyes and had wrapped her arms around her legs, quietly studying the students in the café. It was around five, the Warblers were probably worried. She sighed. Nothing to do about it.

"Hunter? Can I come in?" Marie-Claire called out.

No answer, of course. He made a point of not answering to make her go away. Something that was needless, since it didn't work. Sebastian and she entered the room whenever they wanted to. They just tried to make it seem like they were giving their friend a choice. He hadn't.

"Go away, Claire," Hunter croaked out.

That was promising. Usually he called her Marie-Claire. She walked in, watching her friend lying on the bed. He didn't even look up. Their relationship had grown even stranger. No teasing, no kissing, no cuddling, no dating. Just a bit of comforting and bringing food from her side. They were more friends now. Especially since Marie-Claire realized she hardly knew Hunter at all.

"Hello there?"

"Just leave me the fuck alone, Blaine," Marie-Claire gritted tiredly.

Her kind of but not quite friend actually looked worried. "I'm sorry. I really, really, am."

"Yeah. I know about you being sorry," she spat.

He looked hurt. He had the right to.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm just tired." Apologizing. That was still new to her.

"Claire?" She looked up. "You can come to me, you know." She nodded absentmindedly. She knew that she wouldn't do that. But she appreciated the offer. She guessed. "MC?" She rolled her eyes, staring at Blaine. "Why do you call the Warblers your family? What would you call us?"

She sighed. Why would she answer this? The truth hurt. "The Warblers are my brothers. You are my friends, Blaine. And that's already quite a lot for me."

"Are you alive?"

"Sebastian, we need to fix this. The Warblers are falling apart," she complained.

Her brother was reading on his bed. "I know."

"So what are we going to do?"

He put his book down. "I don't know."

"Hey, you."

"Leave me alone."

"Hi to you, too, Claire."

"Not now, San."

"I heard about your blazer bitches."

"Nice."

"Cheer up. Cheating is very much like your band of bastards."

"At least you're honest."

"You're not yourself, MC."

"I'm tired."

"Yeah. Well, you need to spice some things up."

"You mean…?"

"Yeah. This girl is going to drag your lesbian ass to a gay bar."

"About that…"

"We'll talk about your pedo-date phase."

"Wake up, sleepy head. I brought you coffee."

Someone snapped fingers in front of her. Marie-Claire looked up, right in the blue eyes of a very familiar girl. She frowned. "You're a barista, aren't you?" she questioned confused, taken off-guard.

"True. And you're a very tired regular customer who needs some caffeine," the blonde said, winking at her. She offered Claire a damping cup of coffee. "A skinny white café mocha. Without cream. Size medium."

She recognized the girl. This was the barista who usually remembered her coffee order. "Thanks, I guess?" she smiled, accepting the coffee with both her hands. It was still hot, but she took a sip immediately.

"Welcome," the girl smiled, letting her British accent sound. "You looked like you needed it. It's on me." She offered an empty hand, now, with her free hand stroking the hair out of her face. "I'm Haley Crawford."

Slightly impressed, Marie-Claire shook the girl's hand. "Marie-Claire Smythe. Do you remember everyone's coffee order, or is it just me?"

"Just you," the girl winked, but then laughed. "No, I tend to remember the orders from all the regular customers." Another cup appeared in her hand, from which she sipped with closed eyes, enjoying the taste. "You don't have your explosive friend around?" she asked.

Marie-Claire knew she was talking about the Splenda situation. Damn, they were fucked up. Slushie incident, blackmail period, Splenda situation, steroids scandal. She sighed, pulling a hand through her short, brown hair. "Nope, he's probably not going to bother you anytime soon."

The girl – Haley, she reminded herself – nodded in understanding. Claire wondered if she knew more about the Warblers. Something in those eyes let her know it was the case. "Too bad. He threw some excitement in this boredom," the blonde chuckled, gesturing around her. "Did you get my coffee back then, anyways? I gave it to that blond, cheery guy when you ran after the time bomb guy. After he had a rage riot because of Splenda."

Marie-Claire frowned, thinking back to that day. It took her a while to remember that, yes, Jeff had showed up with hot coffee she hadn't yet paid for. "I did," she answered, still surprised. "You're making a habit out of giving me free drinks?"

Haley shrugged, throwing her empty cup away. She didn't answer the question, instead staring at Marie-Claire without explaining herself. The Smythe felt slightly uncomfortable, even intimidated, when the eyes scanned her body. She wondered what the girl was looking for. If she found it. Suddenly, her presence was unnerving.

"I've got to go," she said quickly, standing up. "Thanks for the coffee."

Haley didn't seem fazed. "Sure, no problem. I'll see you next time."

Marie-Claire rushed out, only outside in the cold air realizing there was an honest smile on her face that hadn't been there for a long time.

When Marie-Claire finally found herself capable of putting up with the New Directions – which meant she forced herself to sit with them at rehearsals only, next to Ryder, who didn't bother her anyway – Diva week had been announced. Not the best time to jump into the crazy maze what was called a Glee club.

She had dealt already dealt with superheroes and apparently she had been lucky enough to miss the week in which a nude calendar was made – she was immensely glad she didn't have to be a part of that. She wondered who's horrible idea it was, but then again, she actually didn't want to know.

Now, it was time for the arrogant bitches in the group to stand up. Tina and Unique were of course best suited for this role, but Brittany joined in soon and even Blaine and Marley – two people she hadn't been expecting. Then again, the curly haired hobbit had been extraordinary in showing off his rainbows. He had his gay moments.

"Claire! Wait!" a voice called after her.

She indeed stopped walking through the hallway, looking over her shoulder at no one else than Blaine. There was a huge part of her that just wanted to walk on, seemingly not noticing him. But she knew better than that. So, she turned around and faced the short boy, trying a smile.

"You told me not to smile when I'm not happy. Maybe you should do the same," he said.

She frowned. While she might have been pushing Blaine away a little, he surely still was capable of looking through her. Not entirely, but he came close. She sighed, her fingers playing around with the cords on her sweater. "What is it?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"Why are you this stressed?"

She snorted. "Because the Warblers have been accused of cheating?" She ignored his guilty look. "Because I'm the one who's trying to keep them together, but it's a pretty damn hard job when their reputation has been ruined."

"Why don't you tell the truth? You said you didn't cheat. Why don't you tell that?" Blaine asked confused, walking next to her towards the exit of the school. She noticed his nose was a little red and his eyes also.

"It's way too complicated," she said quietly, knowing she shouldn't talk about this. She just so desperately wanted Blaine to know that the Warblers weren't all that bad. They just made some wrong choices. "Trent was jealous, Hunter had indeed done a wrong thing. So the steroids story came up, together with Sam's and your help." She didn't ever try to keep the accusing tone out of her voice. "And we take the fall for each other. This way, it's better for Hunter."

Blaine nodded, though he still looked as if he didn't understand it. He probably didn't. "And what's going on between you and Hunter?" he wanted to know, his own voice a bit hoarse.

Marie-Claire rolled her eyes, though she was impressed Blaine noticed anything. "Nothing, at the moment," she cut the subject off.

Blaine actually understood, changing their conversation. "What are you going to sing?"

Marie-Claire bit her lip. "Nothing, I guess. I'm not the diva type. You?"

"You need to sing more often," Blaine argued weakly, but he answered her question anyway. "I'm not sure yet. I want to show that guys can be diva's, too."

She grinned. "Thought about Queen? Freddy Mercury?" she asked.

Blaine's eyes lighted up. "Don't Stop Me Now!" he shouted out, then wincing.

Marie-Claire actually had to laugh. "I'll organize a choir. You just focus on piano and singing."

"You're awesome, Claire."

"I know. Now get to your house and have a good night rest, killer. You look like you're about to catch the flu," she advised.

If only their problems at Dalton were that easy to fix.

The arrival of Santana Lopez was – even after she announced her visit to Marie-Claire – surprising and mind-blowing. Also, the Smythe had never been so relieved. While she had made some friends at McKinley, she just needed someone from outside. And even though Santana had attended the school, she was graduated and had party cut her ties with the Glee club.

Or so she thought.

Brittany was peeking around the corner, too, she noticed. The sing-off between Sam and Santana was impressive, and though Marie-Claire had to cheer the lesbian on, Sam surprised her. She didn't hear him sing that often. The blond cheerleader left the auditorium quickly after the song ended, while Marie-Claire made the decision to approach Santana.

"Hi there," she smiled, noticing that the Latina took the Bram couple badly. "What about a drink?" she proposed, turning around and walking alongside Santana through the hallway.

The black haired girl looked at her. "Instead of a gay bar?" she asked.

Marie-Claire shrugged. "You're still broken-up about Brittany, so much even that you have to pay someone to be your fake girlfriend. Seriously, San, there are loads of girls who wouldn't have to be paid to kiss you."

The Latina smirked. "My wonderful lips are hard to resist, I know. But I needed a single girl from the cheerleader squad, preferably a hot one, so Elaine had to do."

"Do you have a car?" Marie-Claire just asked.

"Stole my mother's."

"Lima Bean?"

"Lima Bean."

The blond barista – Haley – wasn't there, luckily. Marie-Claire sighed in relief. There was a part of her that wanted to see the girl, but not now. She wanted to focus on the Latina in front of her, who had enough to deal with already. "You dropped out of college?" she asked for the tenth time, shaking his head in disbelief.

Santana shrugged. "I'm a diva, too, MC. I know I'm way better than those dumb cheerleaders and the world can lie at my feet if I wanted it too. I only stayed there because of Brittany, so we would be close."

"And now your relationship is over, you're leaving," she nodded, understanding that Santana knew Brittany would stay with Sam. It was complicated, but Santana had accepted – or, at least, acknowledged that Bram would stay together for the time being. "I think it's the best choice, San. You can't let her decide your life and that was what she had been doing."

"But where to go now?" Santana sighed, drinking her coffee.

Marie-Claire stared in her brown eyes. "Only you know," she said lightly. "But maybe…" The other lesbian looked expectantly at her. "Ask coach Sylvester," Marie-Claire advised. "She has known you for four years, I suppose she must have some idea where to send you. My guess would be New York. I know you have always wanted to go there."

"To end up in a homeless center fighting over a bone? I'd rather not. I'm not the hobbit or Lady Face. They use either their horrible, arrogant personality or the I'm-gay-so-you-can't-reject-me excuse to get in NYADA. I'm not sinking that low."

"You have yourself."

"Lesbian, hot, diva, talented. This might work," Santana grinned. "So, how's life with you?"

And Marie-Claire suddenly found herself not able to talk about the Warblers. She had just realized that Santana was still glued to the New Directions. She hadn't actually left them yet, with her guest performances and her role in the musical. The Latina wasn't an independent spectator. She would coach the McKinley Glee club to Nationals, if she had to. The Warblers were still her enemies. She sighed. "Crap. But there's nothing to do about it than just wait."

Santana nodded. "You know what? I'm going to coach Sylvester. It's a good idea. She'll probably bash my life a bit and then give some ridiculous comment on what I should do and then I can figure out something for myself which will always sound better."

Marie-Claire smiled. "Good. Drop me off at Blaine's, will you? I want to check on him."

The scene she found at Blaine's was … unnerving, to say the least. "Tina Cohen-Chang, I don't know exactly what the fuck you're doing, but you'd better stop it right now," Marie-Claire spat, stepping into the room – some idiot, probably Asian, had left the front door open so she'd just been able to enter the house – and pulling the kind of gel from Tina's hands. Only then she noticed Blaine was asleep. "The fuck? What were you doing? Raping him?"

A tearstained face was turned to her. "I wasn't raping him! I'm not like your brother who wants to do that or like that other captain bastard who steals things in order to kidnap Blainey. He's my friend, I-"

Marie-Claire breathed in deeply, clenching her hands to fists. "If you value your life, you better shut your mouth right now. I'm not even going to waste my time on telling you off. Just get the fuck out of here before I tell your crush here what you were doing. And saying."

Tina turned pale and was out of the door in no time.

Sadly, Blaine woke up. "What's happening?" he muttered weakly.

"Did she give you drugs or something?" Marie-Claire sighed, actually concerned even though she knew that Tina would do such a thing. Right? "Get up, killer. You need to take a shower and then get some rest. I'll make you some soup."

Getting the boy to clean himself and go back to bed again, was one of the hardest tasks she'd ever had. Eventually, she was feeding him hot soup, sitting next to him on the bed. "You're a hopeless child," she complained, having been talking like this the whole time. "Do you always act like this when you're sick? Even I'm less bad."

"Where's Tina…?" Blaine just mumbled.

She gritted her teeth. "Don't even talk about that fucking bitch." It wasn't just what she had been doing with Blaine – yes, the Asian had been acting like a stalker and probably had corrupted the situation to touch Blaine, which was creepy in itself. But the worst thing was that she insulted her brother and Hunter, and no one would get away with that.

"I should apologize to her. I fell asleep while -"

"Oh please Blaine, for once drop the gentleman act. She's a bitch. Don't apologize."

The boy was already asleep.

Cohen-Chang won the diva award. Marie-Claire didn't really have a problem with it, especially not when Brittany shouted than the Asian never won anything. She eventually stood up, though, walking to the front. "I'd like to do a song," she announced, a demanding tone in her voice that blew away any protests.

Hudson seemed very happy that she finally was going to perform. Pillsbury, too. Blaine gave her a thumbs up, while the rest of the Glee club members just looked plainly confused. The last time she performed in front of them was when Mr Schuester personally had asked her and she sang a small song to Brittany. This time, it would be different. The Asian girl already seemed pissed off by the Smythe interrupted – exactly what she wanted.

"I told you the song," she said to the band, the blond haired boy giving her an enthusiastic nod. He had told her he liked the band, too, so he had been happy to play the song for her. Luckily, since she had only told them this morning she wanted to sing. "Hit it, boys."

Gravity
Don't mean too much to me
I'm who I've got to be
These pigs are after me, after you
Run away, like it was yesterday
And we could run away, if we could run away
Run away from here

I got a bulletproof heart
You got a hollow-point smile
Me and your runaway scars
Got a photograph dream on the getaway mile

Let's blow a hole in this town
And do our talking with a laser beam
Gunning out of this place in a bullet's embrace
Then we'll do it again

How can they say?
"Jenny could you come back home?"
Cause everybody knows you don't
Ever wanna come back
Let me be the one to save you

Gravity
Don't mean too much to me
I'm who I've got to be
These pigs are after me, after you
Run away, like it was yesterday
When we could run away, when we could run away
Run away from here

I'm shooting out of this room
Because I sure don't like the company
Stop your preaching right there
Cause I really don't care
And I'll do it again

So get me out of my head
Cause it's getting kind of cramped you know
Coming ready or not
When the motor gets hot
We can do it again

The papers say
"Johnny won't you come back home?"
Cause everybody knows you don't
Want to give yourself up then tell the truth
And God will save you

Gravity
Don't mean too much to me
I'm who I've got to be
These pigs are after me, after you
Run away, like it was yesterday
And we could run away, if we could run away
Run away from here

She grinned. Her voice went from high to low, from soft to loud. There was a raw edge to it, suiting the song perfectly. The New Directions were starting to join. Blaine and Marley backed her up, Jake, Ryder, Kitty and Brittany starting dancing on the music. Tina was sitting silently, giving her a death glare, her arms crossing.

And though I know how much you hate this
Are you gonna be the one to save us
From the black and hopeless feeling?
Will you mean it when the end comes reeling?

Hold your heart into this darkness
Will it ever be the light to shine you out
Or fail and leave you stranded?
I ain't gonna be the one left standing
You ain't gonna be the one left standing
We ain't gonna be the ones left standing

Gravity
Don't mean too much to me
Is this our destiny?
This world is after me, after you
Run away, like it was yesterday
And we could run away,
Run away, run away
Run away from here

Yeah
Away from here
Away from here

The applause was great. Cohen-Chang's face even more. Heavily breathing, she was standing between her fellow Glee club members, them all having sang and jumped along. "That's how you do it," she said contently.

I'm going to New York. - Santana

Why so? - MC

Britt convinced me. - Santana

"Are you just particularly down these days or is that your permanent expression?"

Marie-Claire looked up, staring right into the blue eyes of Haley. The blonde sat down next to her, handing her the hot cup of coffee she had just ordered – and paid for herself, this time. "Actually, I just had a pretty good victory," she told the barista, having expected the girl to show up, this time. They'd had some brief conversations over the counter, but now they were sitting next to each other.

"Do tell," Haley said amused. "And why winning puts a frown on your face."

She smiled slightly. This girl was like her. Blunt, no turning around subjects, just asking. "I told you about the Asian bitch, right?" The blond girl nodded – Claire had mentioned Tina while she had been making her coffee. "So I blew her away with a song from My Chemical Romance. That was all."

"Are you a fan?" Haley wanted to know.

She shrugged. "I like their Killjoys album."

"And the frown?" the blonde asked.

Marie-Claire remained silent for a while, weighing her chances. The person she had asked for was sitting right next to her. She had wanted to talk to someone outside of the schools? There she was. And she actually asked about it. She breathed in. "It's a long story. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to tell it."

Haley grinned. "We've got hours."

"It all starts with some schoolboys in blazers…"

They used all the hours.