It was a chilly day, and the biting cold hit Isaac the moment he stepped out of his sleek black Audi Q8 SUV. He had opted for a simple attire - a crisp white shirt, snug blue jeans, and sneakers, complemented by a cozy gray sweater and a brown corduroy jacket.
As he walked through the parking lot, he couldn't help but notice the curious stares from many students. Self-consciously, he glanced down at himself, half-expecting to find a stain or some fashion faux pas, but everything seemed in order.
A peculiar observation struck him; unlike in Columbus, the social dynamics at McKinley seemed different. The cheerleaders and jocks appeared to exist in separate spheres, a contrast he found perplexing. "Strange," he mused to himself.
As he pondered this, a distant voice interrupted his thoughts. "Come on Hummel, you know how this goes, don't make it harder than it is." Isaac turned in the direction of the sound and witnessed a group of football players in red varsity jackets cornering a lone boy in a blue jacket against a dreary dumpster.
"Wait," the boy named Hummel protested with desperation in his eyes, turning to face his aggressors. "You already know, this jacket is a Marc Jacobs, it's a designer. Can't you leave me alone, even if it's just for today?"
He furrowed his brow, were they really contemplating throwing this boy into the dumpster? A quick scan of the surroundings revealed a disturbing indifference among the onlookers; nobody seemed fazed or inclined to intervene. Wasn't anyone else seeing that this was bullying?
"Hey, you guys!" Isaac shouted, attracting the attention of the football players and the beleaguered boy in the blue jacket. "What do you think you're doing? He told you to leave him alone."
"And who the hell are you?" one of the players challenged, puffing out his chest. He recognized him by his distinctive mohawk - the same boy who had previously tried to make advances toward his younger sister at Homecoming.
"Stay away from him or we're going to have a problem," He warned, his eyes narrowing as he positioned himself protectively in front of the cornered boy. Standing at 6 ft 4, Isaac was acutely aware of the intimidating presence his height commanded, and he intended to use it to his advantage.
The players weren't easily swayed. "Hummel, is he your boyfriend?" taunted another, the derision evident in his tone. A cruel smirk played on his lips. "Come on, Puck. Let's get this over with before the Unholy Trinity asks why gay fairy here hasn't gotten his daily facial."
Puck hesitated, glancing between Isaac and his teammates. Eventually, he nodded. Before Isaac could process what was happening, he felt a cold, sticky substance drenching him from head to toe.
"Bye losers," he sneered, as he and his companions left, leaving him standing there, stunned and dripping.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" His outburst echoed through the air while frantically wiping off the slushy that had been thrown at him. "WHAT'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?!"
"That was a slushy," the boy behind him explained matter-of-factly, as if this were a routine occurrence. "You didn't have to do that, you know? I'm used to it."
"Used to it?" Isaac turned to him, a mix of shock and confusion evident on his face. "What do you mean, you're used to it?"
"The cheerleaders and the football players are the kings and queens of McKinley," Hummel explained sympathetically, "If you're neither of them, what you just saw today is your daily life. Oh God, where are my manners? My name is Kurt Hummel. I'm sorry you had to ruin your outfit. Ralph Lauren, right?"
Isaac chuckled despite the frustrating situation. "Nice to meet you Kurt, my name is Isaac, and yes, it's Ralph Lauren. Anyway, don't worry, I can take my clothes to the dry cleaners to get the stain removed. Nice jacket, by the way."
A subtle blush tinted Kurt's cheeks, surprised by the unexpected compliment. "Um, Thanks," he stammered, unused to such positive attention, especially from someone as attractive as Isaac. "At least let me help you clean up a little; it's the least I can do for you."
Feeling the cold slushy clinging to his face, followed the boy into the building. The hallway led them to a bathroom, where Kurt promptly handed him paper towels. As he began wiping the slushy off his face, Kurt couldn't help but notice the frozen mess entangled in Isaac's brown curls.
"You've got slushy in your hair," he pointed hazel-eyed teenager turned toward the mirror, grimacing at the sight of his cold, sticky locks.
Glancing at Kurt, he half-smiled, "If I sat in that chair and threw my head back, would you mind washing my hair or whatever?"
"I'm gay."
Isaac, unfazed, raised an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with you washing my hair?" He settled into the chair, taking off his jacket and sweater, leaving him only in his shirt. "Shit," he whispered, realizing the shirt was also stained. He turned to Kurt, a questioning look in his hazel eyes. "Do you mind... Would you be uncomfortable if I took off my shirt? I won't do it if you feel uncomfortable."
"To wash your hair, I would have to sit on your lap... and…and maybe you felt uncomfortable," Kurt, slightly flustered, managed to reply.
"Kurt, calm down, "I don't mind you being gay or you sitting on my lap. Relax."
The boy nodded, relieved, and once Isaac was seated, he carefully proceeded to wash his hair, mindful of the tangled mess and the warmth emanating from the taller boy's observed discreetly, noting the faint, delicate scars that adorned Isaac's chest but decided not to comment,
"You're new here?" he inquired, his fingers massaging the shampoo into the dark locks.
"I'm from Columbus High," Before the conversation could gain momentum, a sharp ring cut through the air. Isaac gestured towards his jacket hanging nearby. "Do you mind taking it? It's in the right pocket."
"Princess calling, huh?"
The boy chuckled, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It's Jayden. He's my best friend. Pick it up and put it on speaker, please," he instructed, tilting his head back as Kurt resumed washing his hair.
"Hey baby girl," Jayden's voice echoed through the bathroom. "Ash, Ellie and I are in the parking lot, where are you?"
"I've been slushied, Jay. I'm in the bathroom, right as you walk in. But I don't have any spare clothes. Do you have anything you can lend me?"
"Ellie's wearing a sweatshirt of mine that I can lend you. What the fuck is a slushy, anyway? And Ash has some jeans that might fit, though they might be a bit short."
The bathroom door swung open with a force, revealing a blonde boy, presumably Jayden, holding a phone. He was accompanied by a black-haired cheerleader and another boy sporting a leather jacket. The blonde hurried toward Isaac, a bundle of clothes in hand.
"You," he addressed Kurt sharply, his gaze fixed on him. "What happened?"
Kurt, feeling a bit out of place, fumbled to explain, "Your friend saved me from a slushy...I was just helping him clean himself. It's the least I could do for him."
"Mom's coming." the black-haired cheerleader, chimed in. " She glanced at Isaac, now clad in the clothes handed to him, who made a face. "By the way, I'm Gabrielle. Thanks for helping my brother. Nice jacket."
"Thanks, man." The boy with the leather jacket nodded in acknowledgment. "Asher."
Sabrina's heels reverberated through the polished McKinley hallways. The cold indifference etched on her face masked a simmering fury that emanated from her eyes. Those eyes, steely and unyielding, seemed to broadcast a silent warning, compelling students to part ways with a hasty deference.
She noticed the furtive glances and hushed whispers of the cheerleaders, their fingers pointing in her direction. Recognition danced in their eyes — she was Sabrina Marshall, the Head Cheerleader whose legacy still cast a long shadow over Sue's Cheerios. The prestige she once bestowed upon the cheerleading squad now rested as a fragile gift, one that she could effortlessly snatch away with a mere blink of an eye. No one, absolutely no one, dared to harm her family without facing consequences. The football players who thought it wise to hurl a slushy at her son would soon regret their reckless actions.
Isaac, the eleven-year-old ward of the Marshalls, had been enveloped in a cocoon of protection since the tragic deaths of his parents, Jacob and Sophia. Sabrina and Mason, along with Alec and Bailey, had thrown themselves into his upbringing, striving to fill the void left by the loss with all the love and support they could muster. The boy's memory of his early years had faded, leaving him adrift in uncertainty making him develop a fear of abandonment according to Hannah.
In the beginning, Isaac had tiptoed around his new family, the fear of committing a wrong act haunted him, afraid that Sabrina and Mason might deem him unworthy of their love. The Marshalls, aware of his trepidation, had reassured him time and again that he was cherished and that they were steadfastly committed to his well-being. A series of heart-to-heart conversations dispelled his fears, fostering an environment where Isaac felt safe enough to be himself.
Intelligent, polite, attentive, and affectionate, Isaac seamlessly integrated into the family. His bond with Jayden and Asher flourished, mischief a constant companion everywhere they went, yet never warranting a complaint from any teacher or the headmaster. The weight of being the eldest made him fiercely protective of Jayden and his younger 'siblings,' especially Gabrielle.
The first time Isaac uttered "Mom" and "Dad," emotions surged through the household. "I'm sorry, Mom," he had choked out, the words carrying a weight of genuine remorse and distress after accidentally causing his best friend harm on the ice hockey her son, Sabrina assured him that all was well, and a mere Band-Aid would mend the scrape. The memory lingered in her heart, an entire week spent shedding tears of joy every time Isaac referred to her as 'Mom.' The pride had echoed in his husband's tears as well.
Sabrina was in a big meeting with a music producer, excited about a potential collaboration that could boost her career. The room was filled with creative energy when her phone rang. It was her daughter, Gabrielle, urgently telling her that their son, Isaac, got attacked with something called a slushy. Now, Jayden and Isaac needed clothes.
Feeling worried and upset, Sabrina quickly apologized to the music producer and asked to reschedule. With her mind focused on her family, she rushed to Mckinley, thinking about Isaac's safety and the strange situation. The streets became a blur as she headed to help her son and his friend.
Sabrina had been in a meeting with a renowned musical producer, excited about a potential collaboration that could boost her career when her phone vibrated urgently. Glancing at the caller ID, she saw it was her daughter, Gabrielle and her mood shifted from professional to worried mom.
The urgency in her daughter's voice revealed that Isaac had become the victim of an unexpected attack involving a substance known as a slushy. She quickly apologized to the music producer, explaining the family emergency, and asked to reschedule. The producer, understanding the gravity of the situation, expressed empathy and agreed to postpone the meeting for another day.
Amidst the bustling crowd of students, she quickly identified her children and her nephew. Her eldest son towered over the crowd, and the borrowed green sweatshirt from Jayden made him easily identifiable. Rushing over to them, she couldn't help but feel a wave of concern.
"Mom, calm down," Isaac was quick to address her, sensing her worry.
"Your father, your godfather, and your Aunt Bailey are on their way," she replied, attempting to maintain composure. Her worry softened into relief as she observed her son, seemingly unharmed. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mom. Some idiots on the football team wanted to throw Kurt into a dumpster."
Noticing another presence beside her children and nephew, she turned around to find a shorter, paler boy. His blue designer jacket caught her attention, and his brown eyes betrayed an excitement that was accompanied by a light blush due to her intense gaze.
"I'm going to need names," Sabrina addressed Kurt, her attention momentarily shifting. In the distance, more footsteps signaled the impending arrival of Alec, Bailey, and Mason.
Concern etched on Mason's face, "Are you okay? the dark-skinned approached his son, questioning, "What happened? Your mother called me saying that they had attacked you with a slushy."
"What the fuck is a slushy?" Alec demanded, his gaze fixed on his godson, a mix of worry and fury evident. Bailey, standing by his side, placed a calming hand on his arm, well aware of her husband's tendency to become short-fused when it came to Isaac's well-being and safety.
Kurt stood amidst a gathering of concerned faces, the weight of their worry palpable in the air. His heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and an undeniable longing for the kind of open communication he yearned for with his own father. The warmth of the people surrounding him, people who genuinely cared about the boy who had saved him from the slushy ambush, tugged at the corners of his emotions.
A hint of vulnerability colored his voice as he began to speak, his gaze flickering nervously between the faces of the adults and the trio of teenagers standing beside him. "They were... I don't know all of them, but two of them were Finn Hudson and the other was called Puckerman," he confessed, a fear of potential reprisal palpable if word got out that he had disclosed their names.
Isaac's mother offered him a grateful smile, her hand gently squeezing his shoulder in a gesture of appreciation. The adults exchanged glances and moved away to address the situation at hand, leaving the teenagers with Kurt.
"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you before," Jayden's eyes softened with regret as he directed his apology, his blue eyes earnest. "I was rude when all you've done is help my best friend."
Kurt's mouth hung open in surprise as he looked at the blond boy, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected apology. The quartet before him, seemingly belonging to the popular high school clique, was treating him not as an outsider but as an equal. It was a stark contrast to the harsh environment of McKinley, where insults about his sexuality and daily slushy attacks were the norm.
"Don't worry, you were worried about Isaac, I understand," he replied, offering a half-smile. In response, he found himself enveloped in a bear hug embracing him tightly while Isaac, Gabrielle, and Asher erupted in laughter.
"I'm going to take legal action. My son may not belong at this school, but I will not tolerate any kind of harassment directed towards him or any student,"
Sabrina asserted, her words laced with cold venom that echoed through the office. Her eyes bore into the two football players who were responsible for her son's slushy attack, their faces turning pale with fear.
"Mr. Hudson, Mr. Puckerman, could you be so kind as to explain to Mrs. Taylor, what exactly happened?" Principal Figgins, seated behind his desk, faced the two football players, his tone was measured as he addressed them.
Puck, nervously swallowing, mustered the courage to speak first, "Finn and I are sorry, really. We thought... we thought he was a new student."
Alec stood beside Sabrina with a clenched jaw, fighting the urge to act on his desire to give the two boys a good beating. He questioned them sternly, "Are you saying that the slushy thing is some kind of rite of passage for McKinley's new students?"
Finn, shrinking into his padded chair, stammered, "No... We…We just follow orders."
"Orders from whom? Do your mothers know that?" Mason interrogated, a hint of anger in his voice "You're about fifteen, right? You should know that what you're doing is bullying and can have legal consequences."
"Don't tell her, please. My mother will kill me if she finds out."
Sabrina, with raised eyebrows and a disdainful expression, turned her attention back to Principal Figgins,"Mr. Figgins, would you be so kind as to give me a list of the clubs here in McKinley?"
The man, puzzled but complying, handed her a folder. scanned the contents until her eyes settled on the Glee Club roster. A cruel smile formed on her lips.
"Bingo," she thought, keeping her composure. She then looked back at the boys, her tone now saccharine sweet, "I suggest a deal, or rather, two one: apologize to my son and Kurt, and face the consequences from your mothers. Or..."
"The second option. Our mothers will kill us if they find out, and we'll be kicked off the football team."
"Or, you join the Glee Club." She suppressed a laugh as she observed Puck's horrified expression and Finn's resigned demeanor. "You choose. I'm sure the Glee Club will welcome new and willing members. They'll even be able to compete."
"Hold on," Puck's brow furrowed, a skeptical look etched across his face as he folded his arms across his chest. "We were just following orders from the Unholy Trinity. If Finn and I are getting dragged into this shit show, it's only fair they do too."
"Names."
Finn sighed, "Brittany Pierce, Santana Lopez, and Quinn Fabray." He winced, fully aware that dropping those names meant inviting trouble, especially from his girlfriend, who would undoubtedly have strong opinions about his involvement.
"Finn, man, don't bring Brittany into this. "Ms. Taylor, let me break it down for you. Quinn Fabray is the one who decides who gets a slushy shower or not. She's the Cheerios' captain. Santana Lopez is her second in command, basically her lapdog."
The mere mention of Quinn Fabray's name brought a sudden tension to the room. The four adults exchanged glances, it was the girl that had caught Isaac's attention. Sabrina's anger flared, fueled by a mother's protective instincts. Oh, that girl is in for a rude fucking awakening. Let's see who can be a bigger bitch.
"Decide. I don't have all day," she urged, her impatience evident. The boys exchanged resigned glances, and finally, Puck gestured for the paper with the Glee Club list and a pen to sign up. Sabrina handed it over with a satisfied smile.
"Well, Mr. Figgins, my pleasure. Mr. Hudson, Mr. Puckerman, I can't wait to see you at Regionals."
As Sabrina made her exit, leaving the two boys behind, a sense of impending doom settled over them. "We're screwed," Puck and Finn muttered in unison, "We're so screwed."
"Okay, everyone, take five."
A collective exhale echoed through the gymnasium as the cheerleaders disbanded, their synchronized formation now a chaotic swirl of activity. Some flocked to water bottles, engaging in hushed conversations, while others sprawled out on the floor, desperately trying to reclaim their breath. A few dedicated souls drilled through parts of the routine once more, their movements precise yet fatigued.
Amidst the post-practice commotion, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany found themselves in a small cluster, discussing cheer strategies and weekend plans. The tranquility was shattered by a distinctive notification ping emanating from the captain's backpack. Retrieving her phone, she unlocked the screen and was met with an enigmatic message.
"You're fucked, Fabray."
Her eyes narrowed at the unexpected message from Puck, her boyfriend's best friend. Santana and Brittany, positioned behind her, also peered at the message with suspicion etched on their faces.
"What does he mean?" the Latina inquired, suspicion dripping from her words. "With Puck, it could be anything – maybe just some lame joke."
Before the other two could formulate a response, a low murmur swept through the gym, drawing their attention. The entire cheer squad was clustering in groups, their heads together, eyes fixated on a scene unfolding near the stands. She followed their gaze and observed a sharply dressed blonde woman, adorned in a brown suit, engaged in a heated conversation with their coach. The ripple of speculation intensified when the woman shot a piercing look toward the cheerleaders. As their eyes met the woman's gaze, Quinn couldn't shake the feeling that the intensity was directed specifically at her.
"Oh my god, it's Sabrina Marshall. I knew she looked familiar."
"Sabrina...who?" Quinn questioned, scanning the surroundings and realizing the recognition extended beyond their trio, with cheerleaders covertly snapping photos of Sabrina from a distance.
"Sabrina Marshall," Santana declared with reverence. "The power we Cheerios hold is thanks to that blessed woman. They both put Ohio on the map in the cheerleading scene. Sabrina was—and still is—one of the best cheerleaders McKinley has ever had. Head Cheerleader during her high school days, she's practically a legend. Sue has several photos of her in her office, along with her old cheerleader uniform framed on the wall. Haven't you noticed?"
"Currently, she's a singer and dancer," Brittany added eagerly, reading tidbits from her phone. "The heir to the Marshall empire—you know, the guitar amplifier company. Graduated from NYADA in '97 and is married to Mason Taylor, her high school sweetheart and current running back for the Cleveland Browns. Twins – Gabrielle and Asher Taylor."
Santana, always eager for visual aids, snatched the taller blonde's phone and began scrolling through the images online. "Shit, her husband is hot."
"I'm pleased to know your opinion on my husband's physique, Miss Lopez."
Sabrina's sharp voice cut through the trio's conversation, leaving Santana nearly dropping Brittany's phone in shock. "PRACTICE IS OVER, LADIES. HIT THE SHOWERS," The former cheerleader's authoritative voice rang out, causing a hesitant gaze from the Cheerios, unsure whether the Unholy Trinity was bluffing about practice.
"See you tomorrow," Quinn stated, casting a composed look at the remaining cheerleaders. The trio gathered their belongings to leave, but the authoritative voice halted them in their tracks.
"I'd like to have a word with you three ladies. Shower up, and I'll see you in Sue's office in twenty minutes."
