Thanks to all that reviewed, alerted, and favorited.

The song in this chapter is Keyshia Cole "Sent from Heaven" and I reccommend that you read the lyrics to the song. It kind of gives more insight into Mercedes' situation and her feelings.

I don't own the song or the characters just my interpretation of them and this storyline.

Chapter 9

Practice went as it usually did, Rachel and Finn serenading each other while we watched in wonderment at how awful the two sounded together. Not Rachel exactly, but that Finn needs a few lessons from a professional. Follow that by Mr. Schu gushing over their superior talent, and his usual lack of acknowledgement of anyone not the boy wonder or the Streisand-wannabe. Me, I was in my usual spot in the back watching the disaster of a glee club play out in front of me.

At some point, I mentally checked out and before I knew it, glee was over (thank God). I really was starting to wonder why I was even in glee in the first place. I mean, I rarely got to sing. If it wasn't for needing the extracurricular I would have definitely quit that waste of time. I mumbled to myself about the utter inequality in that sad excuse for a club as I walked out of the rehearsal room, not realizing I had forgotten my purse.

Turning around, I walked back into to the supposedly empty classroom to find it not so empty.

That Thing was sitting in Sam's lap with her arm wrapped around his neck, her fingers ruffling the fringe of hair at the nape of his neck. I started. My feet flat out wouldn't move forward or backward for that matter. My brain was screaming at me to snatch that raggedy broad off of my man, but my heart was pumping run, run, run, but I could do neither while I stood there watching my, I want to say boyfriend, but in that moment I knew he had never been my boyfriend. Never. I was stuck. Cemented to that spot by the invisible pressures of the decisions I had made. This was all my fault. I watched them kiss in a space where time didn't exist. There was no ending or beginning; there was just being.

In all actuality, it was less than a minute. Less than a minute before they heard my stupid whimper (ugh I hate that word, but that's what it was). Immediately at the sound, Sam pushed That Thing away from his lips. But it was too late. Too late for me to care.

I'm sure That Thing sitting in his lap could see the look of guilt (probably for getting caught) plastered on Sam's face because after a second she turned around to see who had interrupted her very distasteful, unattractive face sucking with her boyfriend.

"Wheezy what you lookin' at?" That Thing tossed her little lollipop head back to cackle before she continued. "You pervin' on me and trouty mouth? Tryin' to get a look at something someone like you will never experience with a guy as sexy as Sam?" Little does she know. I cocked my head to the left to get a better look at Sam as she continued laughing. I needed to know what he was going to do about this. Now was his chance to stand up for me, for us, but he just sat there looking lost while she kept on running her mouth.

"Sam?" I assumed maybe I should say something to bring him out of his jaw-dropped expression. I got nothing. Should have known.

Getting out of Sam's lap, That Thing started walking toward me with a smug smirk smeared across her fake lips. Her lips were moving but I didn't hear a word coming from them because all I saw was red. I know she's insulting me and making fun of me because that's what she does. So as soon as she got within range, I punched her in her stupid stuffed, misshaped lips. She stumbled back a little and looked up at me completely confused. Before you start, I didn't hit her because she was kissing my boy- Sam, I hit her because she was talking too much smack and underestimating me. Just because I looked hurt and wanted to cry didn't mean she could have the freedom to make me feel insignificant and ugly. I'm not either.

"What was that for fat bi-" before she could finish her sentence I raised my fist letting her know I was not above beating her down. I may have plump, soft, baby-like hands but I pack a mean punch. I'm a daddy's girl, and he taught me well. "What's your problem? I think you busted my lip or chipped a tooth. If you were worth it I would kick your lard-"

"I'm not so just leave already." I said calmly not sparing her a glance; my gazed fixed on the mute still sitting in the chair. She walked out knowing this wasn't a fight she wanted to engage in, bumping my shoulder as she passed.

I stood glaring (well trying to glare, the tears were making it hard for me to actually see) at Sam, mentally compelling him to say something. Anything would do at this point because the silence was condemning. Not that it really mattered now; the way he let That Thing carry on told me everything I wanted, no needed, or should I say should have known.

It was a sad realization that he doesn't care for me the way I care for him. Sure, it may sound mostly like I am more attracted to the physical aspect of Sam most of the time, but honestly, that is just a perk. Sam is easy to love. That's why I do so much. But that doesn't dismiss the fact that he is flawed (as we all are), and the way he has handled me is just proof of that.

His eyes glaze over in (only what I can guess) shock. Taking a stand from his seat, Sam froze when he looked into my eyes. If looks could translate into life, Sam would have been laying on the floor his entrails surrounding him, and those lovely lips he's so inclined to use so often would have been stuffed so far up his butt he'd be kissing his stomach. I wanted him dead. More than that. I wanted to be dead. I had all but given him permission to do the very thing I didn't think he would do, but give someone an inch and they'll try to take a mile. Honestly, I think he bypassed that mile months ago, and I have no one to blame but myself. As much as I want to blame Sam or Santana, I can't (and along with that goes the lovely nickname I gave her, though, I do still hate her). At least not exclusively. I let this charade continue for far too long because he 'thought I was pretty'. Look where that got me. Standing in the middle of the rehearsal room watching my world implode in my face.

We stood face to face for 5 minutes (literally). Him (I'm assuming) not wanting to make any sudden movements afraid of what I might do. Was he scared that I might hurt him? I don't think so, as I mentioned earlier he's stronger than me and a guy, so, that's more than likely not the case. I think maybe he was afraid that things had gone beyond his control, and he was in too deep. But your guess is as good as mine. I have a hard time figuring out what is actually going on in his head. Sam has a knack for being elusive.

Once broken out of his trance, he attempted to take a step towards me. Still silent his eyes saying the words his lips couldn't form. As if we were connected to the same tight wire, my foot mirrored his forward step with a backward one of equal magnitude. Pain flashed across his face, but that didn't stop him from trying again. And just as before we did this weird two-step. At some point he caught on, I saw it in his eyes, but before he could act, I began to back up quickly shaking my head at him signaling him not to follow me. Praying that he would just let me be. I made it to the door, and at the moment I stepped past the threshold, I spun around and sprinted down the hall not caring that I had left my purse back there with Sam.

I didn't hear him behind me, but that didn't stop me from bursting through the double doors leading to the parking lot. I dug into my pocket pulling my keys out. My vision blinded by tears; I had to wrestle with my keys to open the door. When I finally opened the door, I threw myself at the driver seat desperate to get as far away from Sam as quickly as possible, but as soon as I cranked the car, I heared the worst possible song that could be on the radio at the moment.

Now you can wait your whole life tryna change
What they feel from what it's been
You may have put your whole life into a man
Love ain't what you thought it could've been.
Oh that's when you change
And you don't feel as good as you used to before
And everything you used to say,
Everything you used to do went right out the door

Oooh no more, will you be the one
That's what you tell everyone around you
But you know they've heard it all before
What more can you say
When love won't let you, walk away
And it can't help who it loves
And you find yourself giving it all away
When you think you're in love

I wanna be the one who you believe
In your heart is sent from (sent from heaven)
There's a piece of me who leaves when you gone
Because you're sent from (sent from heaven)
I wanna be the one who you believe
In your heart is sent from (sent from heaven)
There's a piece of me who leaves when you gone
Because you're sent from (sent from heaven)

I broke down. Sobs racking my body. I felt like my insides were shriveling up against their will. My heart, well, it might as well have been outside of my body under my car tire. It was suffering. Not quite dead just teetering on the brink of a very excruciating demise. I didn't check the time but I can gather that I sat in that parking lot crying my soul out for an hour before I had the wherewithal to stop the convulsive bawling. At which point, I put my car in gear and began driving indiscriminately with puffy eyes clouded with woeful tears.