You Have More Friends Than You Know
If you look at what you have in life, you'll always have more. If you look at what you don't have in life, you'll never have enough
Mercy's POV
I drove through the once familiar streets, it had been nearly fifteen years since Lima had seen hide or hair of me, I'd grabbed my opportunity with both hands and flew with it, never feeling the need to return. My relationship with my mother hadn't been a good one since just after childhood, I'd spent most of my teenage years with my grandmother who passed the year before I left school. My mother: even then, was nowhere to be seen, so there was no love lost. The house was left to me, so when I went off to college to complete a music scholarship with money from the sale of Grandma's house in my back pocket, I had no intention of coming back, I had grand ideas of setting up home in Los Angeles.
Time had been good to my birthplace, the old coffee shop had been replaced by a two story Starbucks, the little sticky seated cinema was a multi-duplex, advertising ten screens, the ice rink had been demolished and in its place stood a seven story office block, the little part of Lima I once knew so well was moving with the times. I turned off the main road and smiled at the hotel still being there, Mr. Hummel had always kept an open house, when we were children there was always ice cream on offer, I wondered what he offered now.
I stopped the car at the front of the hotel, grabbed my case, handed the key to the valet, and made my way to the front door, the smell of the place brought back memories I'd long forgotten. My first glance inside made me smile at seeing myself hiding in the cupboard under the stairs during our regular game of hide and seek, I giggled remembering Mrs. Hummell, Mrs. Fabray, Mom, Kurt, Quinn and I flouncing down the corridor playing dress up, which seemed to be the best part of Kurt's day. "Memories could live forever in a place like this" I muttered to myself pushing the door fully open to get in
"Look who it is" Bert's voice called at seeing me "Mercedes you haven't changed a bit"
"It's been fifteen years Mr Hummel, I've changed"
"Three reunions" he walked towards me with his arms open
"They're so not my thing" I hugged him back
"Nobody calls me Mr. Hummel anymore, I'm plain old Bert now" he laughed
"You'll always be Mr. Hummel to me Bert" I laughed "And less of the old"
"You're too kind" he laughed "Let's get you to your room" he grabbed my case and wondered off through the lobby and down the familiar corridor
"The place is looking good" I commented looking around the freshly painted corridor "You're doing alright"
"Kurt helps me out" he turned to tell me
"How is Kurt?" I searched my mind to imagine what he'd look like as a man
"He's good, living the high life in New York" he smiled proudly "He's married now"
"Is he?" I asked, he smiled at the surprise in my voice
"You were sent an invite"
"I don't remember getting it, maybe I was performing, and Jenny didn't want me to drop everything, she does that sometimes"
"What, totally controls your life?" he stopped to ask "That doesn't sound right"
"I'm so busy sometimes someone has to control me" I laughed, something inside telling me he might be right
"So, I'm guessing you're not busy right now?" he snapped me out of my thoughts
"You guessed right, I'm taking some time away from it all, I feel like I'm heading for burnout"
"Good for you" he carried on walking down the corridor stopping at room eight "I thought you'd like this one"
"The sleepover room" I smiled knowingly "We told such secrets in this room"
"I can imagine" he laughed putting my case in the room "Need anything you know where I am" he smiled and walked away
I stood looking around the room a smile forming for every corner, "Fond memories never go away" I stood remembering a life that was so far removed from where I was now. I loved my grandma's house, with the faint smell of eucalyptus, she used it for everything. The fact that she wasn't in it anymore was a big part of the reason I'd sold it. There was also a time I'd loved wondering around Kurt's parent's hotel, messing in all the desk draws, especially the green felted one we thought was filled with money, because it spilled over with letters.
On Wednesday, and Sunday evenings, we'd grab some wine glasses, a box of grape juice and pretend to have our own cocktail party in room eight while the guests and some of the locals made merry in the entertainment lounge. We'd have the room set up like the lounge, and pretend the balcony was the garden where we'd go to smoke rolled paper like they were cigarettes. Once we'd had enough of all that, we'd dance along to the bellowing music until we were tired and fall asleep where we stood or lay.
The next morning before Kurt's parents or any of the guests woke up, we'd sneak into the kitchen scoop ourselves large bowls of ice cream, and those adorable flake sticks and that was our pre-breakfast before we were ushered into the dining room to shove down a bowl of cereal before school or church. "Memories" I smiled sitting on the bed, reminding myself I'd never slept in the room alone before.
On Saturday's we'd eat early, then mom and I would get ready for the trip up to the hotel, packing my costume into my backpack, all of us ready to transform into who our parents were going to be, Kurt was always Frank Sinatra, his dad's party piece was always the party starter. I smile at the memory of Kurt tapping along as he sang along pretending to be doing a live performance with his dad. Quinn's mother would always turn to her trusted rendition of a Sandie Shaw. I smile again remembering my mother always wanting to 'keep it real', her favourite phrase, busting out with some Randy Crawford vibe, it was all so repetitive, but it was work, it afforded us a better life for a while. "Those were the days"
I think my childhood was snatched away from me, when I finally realised that the happy go lucky, fun-loving woman I knew to be my mother, was only that way because of drugs. My world came quickly tumbling down after knowing that about her, Grandma got snappy, we didn't go to the hotel anymore, people at church didn't look at me the same either. I think the hate came because of what I'd lost rather than what she was doing to her life, grandma cried a lot, there was a fight and then she was gone, never to be seen again.
Both grandma and I were past indifferent when the call came, giving us the news, we'd been waiting for since the day my mother had chosen drugs over us. I didn't cry, I had nothing to cry for, grandma on the other hand, went on for days, and although she lasted three years, I still think she died of a broken heart. I was cold after that, I had one more year left in school, one more year in this place that hadn't given me any memories that I wanted to hold, I was glad to leave.
By this time, I'd made myself into the unlovable rouge, I was self-harming and getting angrier by the day feeling for which I had no understanding or release. I'd threatened suicide so many times the suicide watches they used to place on me soon became conversations of appeasement. I finally calmed down when someone suggested I could do something with my singing, finally someone had seen me as someone other than the crackhead's daughter, and for whatever reason I clung to the hope that person had given me, it kept me alive.
I'd written a song, call it therapy, it was my way of getting it all out, and I did, I took all the hurt about losing my grandma, the neglect from my mom, the loneliness, and put it to music. It became my audition song, and finally it featured on my first album, becoming one of my signature songs, I did my first music video to it, as a kind of homage.
Slipping back a few years, college was my freedom reign, I knew no one, there was no name calling, I wasn't known as the crackhead's daughter, just plain shortened Mercy with the voice, that boosted my confidence. Classes were fun, I loved learning and every opportunity I got to sing I took it, but it wasn't all fun, living in a building full of hundreds of horny students meant sleepless nights the walls were so thin. The argument that happened almost nightly as people exchanged beds offending those that had caught feelings, duals in the corridors it all went on.
I found myself making friends easily, and learning about the wider world, academically I didn't have a problem, I was an A grade student, always had been, I guess I compensated with school for the home life I didn't have. Learning never seemed to end for me, I craved it, even learning someone was mean I felt was a life lesson that I could take with me. I'd grown in the three years I spent at college, but I quickly learned there was more, my social skills were great, but life skills; not a clue, the house was finally sold, so I had to find myself somewhere in Los Angeles, I needed a job, furniture, there were bills to pay, it's amazing how quickly you unlearn that stuff.
After a year of building my life back, I was able to focus on my career, as I said before my demo's went out, I went from agent to agent trying to sell myself, even started auditioning for television, I tried everything. Then one day I got a call Dillon; an agent liked my sound and thought he could work with me, I didn't ask if he felt he could work with me when I finished my sound check, I asked where I should sign, and was shocked when he advised me to get the contract looked over and get back to him in forty eight hours. I got it checked by an old college friend who'd gone off to university to major in Business and handed it back, signed in time, and I was ready to make my album.
After fifteen years of unhappiness while I built my career, blocked out my childhood, leaving everything in the past, I managed to find the only therapist in LA, that badgered me into confronting my fears, I knew I'd left them in this place. I looked around the bedroom "Food" I decided on, grabbing my case to freshen up before making my way to the Fabray's restaurant
I was sat at the bar waiting for a table, a new thing for me, it felt good not to be recognised "Well hello" I heard making me look over my shoulder "Hi" he said again smiling "Mercedes Jones, right?"
"Right" I rolled my eyes, thinking here we go
"I've seen your picture in the music room" he held his hand out "I went to McKinley too"
"My picture?"
"Yeah, hall of fame" he smiled "Jake, Jake Puckerman" he pushed his hand closer to me
"Nice to meet you Jake" I grabbed his waiting hand
"Hard to believe people made fun of you back then, I bet the last laugh is on them now"
"No, I don't laugh at them" I considered my response "I pity them, they only saw the outside, took no notice of the inside, I could have been a great friend to some of them"
"There are a lot of rumours we could get into right now, but I'm more interested in how you made it, and tips" he pulled the chair out to sit next to me without being invited
"Rumours?"
"You can top me up on rumours about you if you let me tell you mine first" he smiled
"Do I need to know?"
"My name is Jake; I think that's a good place to start"
"Agreed" I smiled
"So, what brings you back?"
"Honestly?" I looked at him trying to work out how to answer that "My therapist thinks I have some stuff to work through" I decided the truth was best
"And what do you think?"
"That it's scary bringing back the past"
"You don't have to do that alone" he stared at me obviously waiting for an invite
"How old are you, Jake?"
"Two years younger than you, I didn't know you had to be a certain age to helps someone"
"Sorry, you're right" I looked around "This place sets in doubts for me" my eyes landed back on this Jake guy "So, do you live around here?"
"Don't freak out" he held his hands up at me "But I live in your old house, with my family"
"Grandma's?" I squeaked with surprise
"When I say family it's my foster parents, there are a bunch of us visiting, Pops passed and we're just back from the internment, I just needed to get away for a minute"
"Sorry to hear that" I hummed genuinely "Sorry for your loss"
"Thank you" he smiled at me "But I was blessed to have known him, to have him in my life, it isn't a loss, it was a privilege to have known him, learned from him, you know?"
"I felt like that about my grandma" I told him happy for the memory "How many of you are there?"
"Last count was thirty-five and apparently we didn't all turn up"
"That must have been fun"
"We weren't all there at the same time, I'm meeting some of them for the first time this visit"
"That's crazy" I laughed
"Anyway, you know something about me, and still, all I know about you is that your plaque has pride of place in the old auditorium"
"You know more than me on that topic, it's the first I'm hearing about that" I laughed "It's an honour to be up there no doubt but…"
"No buts, if you got them through sectionals regionals and nationals two years running, that has to be celebrated"
"There was the whole choir, I can't take the credit for that"
"You didn't take it; honour was given by your classmates, and I guess with your career accomplishments, it was a no brainer"
"Nice of them" I sat staring into the room trying to put faces and even names to those classmates, for the life of me all I could remember was Quinn and Kurt
"You do know the story behind the plaque?"
"As I said, I didn't know there was a plaque"
"Well, it seems I know more about your history than you, wild" he rolled his eyes playfully
"Pray tell" I giggled at the face he pulled
"Apparently…" he sat telling me about the ceremony
I couldn't help but smile as he told me about my classmates being grateful for me being in their lives, it didn't feel like it at the time, nobody said anything, apparently I'd had a huge impact and some of them even said they wouldn't have turned out to be the people they were had I not showed them there was a better version of themselves. I admit I was teary, he went on about them thinking I was the strong one, far from it in my memory, but they'd seen strength in the way I'd pulled through my jaded life and made enough of myself to get out of Lima and do my thing.
"Cream rising to the top?" I smiled at hearing that, it was a phrase anyone had used to describe my journey once, today it had proved to be accurate "You had a story, you fought for your place in the world with your raw talent and that's what your friends saw in you, you deserve that plaque"
"That wasn't what I saw" I admitted "It wasn't what I felt"
"Your table's ready Ms Jones" the waiter came up to us smiling
"Would you…?"
"No" Jake put his hands up smiling "I'm actually waiting for my wife" he looked at the door "It's a long awaited date night" he raised an eyebrow "She's never on time" he laughed "But when she gets here" he did and explosive gesture with his hand "Drop the mic moment"
"Good for you" I got up to follow the waiter to my table
"You should go see your plaque" he called after me
"I might just" I turned to tell him before making my way to the table
Nothing much had changed in the old restaurant; I could only assume that Mr. and Mrs. Fabray had long retired and maybe Frannie; Quinn's much older sister, was in charge now. I couldn't help remembering that witches name, she was the one that started the rumour mill when things went south with my family. The tables were still covered in rubber wipeable table clothes, the pattern was different, but the feel was the same, all the tables had four chairs around them, making me feel guilty for eating alone.
I sat smiling at my memories of the restaurant, it was the first place I targeted when the world turned against me, I smashed the windows a few times, I'd thrown a chair through one of the windows once and Mrs Fabray was all for calling the cops, but Mr Fabray talked her out of it.
"Ready to order Ms Jones?" the waiter distracted me
"Yes" I smiled at him "Stake please medium rare"
"Drink?"
"A glass of house red please" I smiled at him and watched him walk away
Suddenly the door swung open, and two men made their noisy entrance, the first one was easily in his sixties, his shoulder length hair grey, thick built, and a round face, his high cheek bones suggested he might have been a handsome man in his youth, his deep blue eyes noticeable as they flashed around the room. The other guy was much younger, maybe my age, he clumsily fell into the restaurant, he was clean shaven, slender bult with dark long mouse coloured hair, a bulky body jacket, tight denims, a t-shirt with an open shirt, and walking boots
"Hey" a woman came from the kitchen shouting "Use the back door" she shouted at them
"Give the boy a break" the older man shouted back at her
"Dad" the young guy snapped at the man
"Sorry" the older man looked at the woman apologetically
"You said get him home, he's here, I've got to go" he smiled at the woman
"Please son" she looked at him beggingly "Just get him upstairs, I've got orders" she pointed at the kitchen
"Mom" he moaned, looking at the wobbling man I now knew was his father before grabbing his arm "Come on dad" he smiled at him pulling him back out the door, I assume to take him through the back door, and then it was quiet again. Minutes later my food arrived, I'd gotten used to the idea of eating alone, it had been that way for a long while, I worked unsociable hours and generally found myself in tucked away cafés in the mornings or dimly lit restaurants late at night, it was how I lived. I'd long detached from needing the company of others, in fact for me it was down time, I'd connect to my socials and see what was happening out there in the wider world, talk to some fans, post a thought, or even take pictures of my food for fun, I was happiest then. I sat eating, checking my mail and wondering what my plaque looked like, maybe I should pass by and have a look at it, it's not every day someone as famous as me walks down the corridors of McKinley
I eventually finished my meal and went back to the hotel ready for my quiet night's sleep, I don't know when I fell asleep, but I know I was woken by the familiar, unfamiliar shaking of the walls as the early morning freight train passed by, lucky for us that happened only twice a day. "God" I gasped at not being able to get back to sleep, I guess it was time to get dressed and grab some breakfast at the same time of the day as the rest of the world
"Morning" Bert smiled at me "Breakfast is self-serve as much as you need" he kissed my forehead
"Morning" I smiled "Thanks" I found a seat in the small dining room, threw my jacket on the chair, and made for the food
"Doing anything special today?"
"I thought I'd go to the old school apparently they have a plaque there for me"
"Oh yes" Bert smiled "You should see it"
Soon after breakfast I was making my way to the school, there were so many things running through my mind as I climbed out the car and my feet landed on school soil again. The minute I threw my graduation cap in the air I was out of there, all that trauma left me, I meant it, no turning back. I had no one coming to hug me, tell me how well I'd done, nothing, I remember some guy walking up to me and saying something like 'You're cream rising somewhere or the other, I wanted to slap the idiot, but I smiled and walked away, the end.
Now here I was opening old wounds, it felt like I was punishing myself. I opened the door and walked into the corridor chattering mouths stopped to take notice, gasps turned to smiles as my legs moved taking me to the reception "Good morning" I smiled at the receptionist "I'd like to…"
"Ms Jones" she jumped up smiling "Straight down the corridor and to the left"
"Thank you" I smiled and went to the place I knew well "What the…" my eyes widened as I heard the familiar song coming from where I'd known to be the choir room where I'd written it. I pushed the door open and stood watching a young girl singing, they noticed me, and the guy from the restaurant with his dad the night before called me in, I stood listening to her, she looked at me, and I couldn't help singing along, everyone sat in a daze listening
Mercy: …Sorry time away made me change, sorry I'm not moving at your pace
But there'll never be a perfect time or place, I've been holding space, but how I'm feeling just won't go away
And I know that this may sound extreme, the time away from you has shown me
Where we are ain't where I want to be, hate that what I want might not be what I need
Mercy & Choir: I don't want to lose you, but if I have to, then baby oh well, cause I'd rather lose you, than lose myself
So do what you got to do, I'll do what I got to do too, and I wish you well, I'd rather lose you, than lose myself 'Lose Myself' by Dondria
"Ms Mercedes Jones everyone" the guy shouted when we finished, everyone clapping frantically as they walked towards me
"Hi" was all I had, to be honest I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, I wasn't used to fans getting this close
"Okay" the guys voice finally took over "Let her breathe" he fanned them off, maybe he saw the shock on my face I don't know "So, Mercedes what brings you back to McKinley?" he asked so familiar
"I heard there was a plaque, I came to see it" I looked around the room "I'm at a disadvantage, I don't know your name"
"Sam Evans" he held his hand out "We went to school together for a term"
"We did?" I looked at him, trying to work out who the hell he was
"We didn't talk much" he laughed "You didn't talk to anyone back then"
"True" I smiled
"The plaque" he turned to look at it "I had it put there when I got the job here, you inspired me to follow my dreams"
"I did?"
"You don't remember me, do you?"
"Sorry" I looked at him apologetically
"Summer of junior year I spent a summer and a term with Quinn, Kurt and you, I'm Quinn's irritating cousin" he frowned "I hate to bring it up, but I think that was the year your grandma passed"
"Gosh, yes" I laughed, we'd given him such a rough time that year, I stood wondering how I'd forgotten him "I thought you lived in Texas?"
"We did, but my parents came to run the family business, so I found a teaching job and moved down here too" he laughed "Eight years since" he looked at the plaque again "As I said you inspired it" he pointed at the plaque
We walked the short distance and stood in front of it 'Cream rising to the top' I looked back at him "That was you at my graduation?"
"I think that sentence finished with 'And I'll be waiting when you get there'" he laughed "I sent Valentine, Birthday, and Christmas cards every year"
"Be who you were born to be?" I laughed remembering the repetitive messages "You have to let me return the favour, let me take you to dinner"
"My parents…"
"I know, I saw you there last night"
"Food's the best in town" he smiled "Seven?"
"Sure" I watched him turn to his class and clap his hands, I don't remember much about him from back then, but today he was cute