A gentle rap at the door drew the attention of the Glee Club members, already settled in anticipation of Santana's performance. With a warm smile, Mr. Schue moved to answer it, his expression brightening as he welcomed the visitor.
"May I come in?"
The entire Glee Club surged forward to greet Isaac, their faces alight with joy at seeing him again after the tension of Finchel's near-wedding. Santana wasted no time in playfully smacking him on the head as she settled into his lap.
"Asshole, you nearly gave us all a heart attack."
His laughter rang out as he deftly maneuvered his wheelchair toward the center of the room. "I couldn't miss out on your performance of 'If I Can't Have You.' Besides, I brought chocolate," he added, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he gestured to his backpack.
The girl's grin widened as she dove into his bag, retrieving the promised treats. Leaning down, she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."
Isaac returned her smile, smoothly repositioning himself beside his girlfriend, where he bestowed a tender kiss on her cheek.
"So, who brought you here?" Quinn inquired, her curiosity piqued as she rose from her chair to perch atop his lap.
"Asher," he replied with a smile. "You smell amazing," he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.
She rolled her eyes, but a fond smile tugged at her lips. "Especially after sweating during cheer practice," she remarked teasingly. "Easy for you to say, you smell amazing when you're freshly showered."
The room fell into a hushed silence as Santana took center stage, poised to deliver her rendition of 'If I Can't Have You' from Saturday Night Fever. All eyes were drawn to her, captivated by the vibrant energy she exuded as she swayed to the music. Clad in a salmon-colored silk jumpsuit accented with a silver scarf wrapped around her forehead, she embodied the essence of 80s style, her movements fluid and mesmerizing. Her voice soared, filling the room with raw emotion, prompting many to dance in their seats and sing along with her.
As the final notes of the song lingered in the air, Isaac took a moment to address the room. All eyes turned toward him, curiosity and anticipation evident in their expressions. "I have an announcement to make," he began, his tone carrying a mix of seriousness and warmth. "The Sophia Collins Foundation has decided to offer each of you a full scholarship, regardless of your future plans or chosen career path. The funds are yours to use as you see fit."
A hush fell over the room as his words sank in, the significance of the offer slowly registering with each member of the Glee Club. Puck broke the silence with a question. "Why?" he asked simply.
"Because I understand the uncertainty of the future, the fear of not knowing who you are outside of these walls, and the daunting realization that your dreams may seem out of reach. My dream was always to follow in my father's footsteps and become a hockey player, but it consumed me to the point where I forgot why I loved the sport in the first place. I see potential in each of you, just as my mother did. She believed everyone deserved a chance, and she had a knack for spotting talent. And that's what I see in all of you: raw talent waiting to be recognized."
Santana, her cell phone in hand, let out a low whistle as she scrolled through the scholarship details. "This is...a lot of money," she remarked incredulously. "I can't accept it."
Isaac's gaze softened as he turned to her, a small smile playing on his lips. "I want you to," he urged gently. "The world deserves to know the star that is Santana Lopez. You deserve this opportunity to shine, and the money is there for you. It's yours. It's your decision what you do with it, with no strings attached and no obligation to repay it.
He addressed the group with earnestness, his words a plea from the heart. "Guys, there are people out there who believe in you, even when you may not believe in yourselves. Please, accept this opportunity. As your friend, I'm asking you to take hold of it."
"Why's Teen Jesus giving you the stare down?" Santana quipped, arching an eyebrow as she observed the dreadlocked boy's persistent gaze fixed on her best friend. "Please tell me he's not Sam 2.0."
"This weekend, we bumped into him and his mom at mass, and then he asked me in front of my parents if we could hang out for Bible study sometime. Santana, in front of my fucking parents! Can you believe it?" Quinn groaned, shooting a disdainful glance in Joe's direction.
"And what did your dad say?"
"He had the same reaction as you. I didn't know where to hide. And that wasn't the worst part—my dad picked up his phone and Facetimed my boyfriend, telling him all about both started cracking up. It was like five minutes of that nonsense. I hate that they get along so well. Now, every time I mention a God Squad meeting, they tease me."
"Fabray, plenty of people would kill for the relationship your dad and Isaac have," the Latina remarked, wiping away tears of laughter. "Wait, were you hoping Isaac would get jealous or something?"
"Not Sam-level jealous, but a little. Anyone would."
"Sometimes I think you forget that your golden retriever of a boyfriend has something bigger than his dick, his sun-sized ego. He may be temporarily sidelined but his ego's still thriving. He probably finds Joe hilarious for trying to swoop in, but he also trusts you. He knows you're his girl, not Joe's. Honestly, it's sad that Joe even tries, knowing you're taken."
"Yeah, you're right. But I do miss my jealous boyfriend."
"Fabray, you can't expect Isaac to be jealous of a guy who looks like a modern teenage Jesus, walks around without sandals, and names his dreads after Bible verses. Speaking of your boyfriend, how's therapy going?"
"One of these days, I swear someone's gonna get hurt. The other day, someone—God knows who—decided to crank up the temperature. Of course, Isaac's shirt clung to him, and you know how distracting that can be" the blonde complained, rolling her eyes. "It's like they do it on purpose every time we go. The air conditioning conveniently breaks only when I'm with him. When he goes with anyone else, it's fine."
"And have you talked to him about it?"
"He says he prefers it when I go, even if it means sweating buckets. It's torture and a blessing for me. Blessing because I get an eyeful of my boyfriend's abs, and torture because half the room's also ogling."
"I feel you, bitch" Santana nodded solemnly. "It's like when I go watch Britt at dance class. Just remember, he's yours, and at the end of the day, you're the one he's got in bed screaming his name."
"Amen to that."
Rachel navigated the bustling halls of McKinley High, her steps purposeful as she sought out Isaac. She knew he would likely be at school to pick up Quinn, and she desperately needed someone to confide in after her disappointing audition with Madame Tibideaux. Spotting the familiar couple by Quinn's locker, she approached them with a hint of apprehension, her heart heavy with the weight of her recent setback.
"Hello, Isaac. Can I talk to you for a moment?" her voice wavered slightly as she addressed him, her gaze shifting between the couple. "It'll only take five minutes."
Quinn exchanged a brief glance with her boyfriend before nodding understandingly. "I'll wait for you in the car," she whispered to him before slipping away, leaving them alone.
"What did you want to talk about?"
"I... I choked twice at my NYADA audition, and Carmen Tibideaux was there."
Isaac's expression softened with empathy as he absorbed her words. "Rachel, I'm sorry to hear that."
"I need your help."
"How can I help?"
"Do you know her?"
"I've seen her once or twice when I was younger. My mothers know her, and so does Aunt Shelby," Isaac responded, his expression puzzled. "Wait, you're not asking me what I think you're asking me."
"What do you think I'm asking?"
"Rachel, I can't leverage the relationships my family has with her to secure you another audition. It wouldn't be fair or ethical. You had your chance, and I'm genuinely sorry for you, but you didn't make it."
"You don't understand!" Rachel protested, frustration seeping into her voice as she stamped her foot on the ground. "This is my dream since I learned to walk. Without it, I have nothing."
"And I thought my girlfriend was dramatic," he muttered under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Collecting himself, he met her gaze with sincerity. "Rachel, I used to be like you. For me, it was hockey or nothing. My father was a hockey player, and I became so obsessed with following in his footsteps that I forgot why I loved the sport. After the accident, I realized I might never play again, and I was terrified. But I promised myself I would keep trying until I succeeded. The world doesn't end because of one failed audition. I'm not saying it's easy; Jay and I are banking on recruiters at the State Competition. You have 're smart, Rachel. I'm sure you'll find a way."
"Did you never consider pursuing music?"
"Music has always been reserved for the women in my family, and Asher," Isaac quipped, eliciting a chuckle from her. "I see it more as a hobby. It's a stress reliever, and I enjoy spending time with my siblings and my best friend. Soon, we're releasing my mother's album re-recorded by us, and that's the extent of my musical ambitions. The rest, I leave to my brother and sister."
"You would have been an incredible addition to our Glee Club. You exude stage presence and leading-man material."
"Wouldn't I be a threat to your solo monopoly?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips, causing her to blush. "But I'll take it as a compliment coming from you, Miss Berry." His phone interrupted their conversation, prompting him to send a quick message before turning his attention back to Rachel. "It's Quinn, urging me along. Look, Rachel, you're talented, and you'll likely be a star someday. Just don't forget who helped you get there, okay? The top can be a lonely place without someone to share it with."
"Get in, losers. We're going shopping."
The playful call echoed through the air as the three girls turned at the sound of the car horn, their faces lighting up with smiles as they spotted Isaac stepping out of the car to open the doors for them.
"Who would've thought Lover Boy had seen 'Mean Girls'?" Santana quipped with a smirk as she slid into the car, followed closely by her best friends.
"When your girlfriend is the Regina George of the school, I think that movie becomes a must-watch,"
Quinn started smacking her boyfriend over the head as she settled into her seat. "Ouch, babe, that hurt. I'm taking you and your friends shopping, and you're complaining? I could be doing a thousand other things than spending an entire afternoon searching for prom dresses."
"You'll have the three most desirable girls in all of McKinley modeling dresses for you, and you're complaining? Plenty of people would kill to be in your shoes, you know?" she snapped back, her feigned annoyance evident as she crossed her arms and turned her gaze to the road.
"I know," he replied solemnly, giving her leg a reassuring pat. "That was what the saleswoman who helped me pick out my suit last week said."
Her eye twitched at the thought of another woman touching her boyfriend, her gaze narrowing as she tried to discern if he was teasing her. Santana and Brittany erupted into fits of laughter in the backseat.
"You didn't."
"Oh, I did," he confirmed, a smug grin spreading across his face. "She had to adjust my pants several times."
"So, with those pants that the saleswoman oh so kindly adjusted for you, are you planning on showing off your behind ?" Santana's laughter intermingled with her words.
Isaac caught her eye in the rearview mirror and winked. "And the front too."
The brunette pretended to fan herself dramatically, while her girlfriend chuckled beside her. "You don't even belong to McKinley, but I'm tempted to crown you Prom King right now."
"You know, Isaac, Britt and I are willing to give you a lap dance in front of the entire McKinley if you let me play with Isaac Jr. Totally free, and we'll let you touch as much as you want," Santana teased, her tone dripping with lasciviousness, earning a laugh from him.
"It would be so hot," Brittany agreed, nodding solemnly. "Hotter than the volcanoes that killed the dinosaurs."
"CAN YOU STOP TALKING ABOUT MY BOYFRIEND'S DICK? NO ONE IS GOING TO TOUCH OR GIVE MY BOYFRIEND ANY LAP DANCE BUT ME, UNDERSTAND?"
"You can join too if you want, Quinnie," her best friend chimed in, her expression innocent. "The more, the merrier."
"Yeah, Quinnie, the more, the merrier," Isaac added with a mocking smirk, meeting her glare with amusement.
"You and I are going to talk later," Quinn growled, her tone icy as she locked eyes with him. "Now, drive."
Quinn stood amidst a sea of dresses, her gaze flitting between the colorful array of fabrics, when she felt a presence approaching from behind. Lifting her head, she met the curious gaze of a shop assistant, a warm smile gracing his lips
"Need help?" he offered, his voice friendly and inviting.
Glancing over at her boyfriend, who seemed engrossed in a magazine, she couldn't resist a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Actually, yes," she replied with a charming smile. "I'm in search of the perfect prom dress."
"Well, first things first, I'm Alex," he introduced himself with a charming smile, extending a hand. "Let's find that dress together. Any specific style or color in mind?"
"Not really," she admitted, adopting an exaggeratedly forlorn expression as she discreetly stole glances at her boyfriend, hoping to pique his interest. "I'm completely lost."
"Perhaps something in pink or blue would compliment you nicely. What do you think?"
"I wore blue last year," Quinn replied with a coy smile, her eyes flicking back to where Isaac had risen from his seat and was now approaching, feigning nonchalance.
"In that case, pink it is. Wait here for just a moment, and I'll fetch some options for you."
She nodded gratefully as he disappeared into the depths of the store. From the corner of her eye, she noticed her boyfriend raising an amused eyebrow, silently questioning her interaction with the shop assistant. She simply shrugged in response, flashing him a playful smile. Returning with an armful of dresses, Alex presented her with a variety of options.
"Here you go," he announced cheerfully. "The fitting rooms are located toward the back on the right. Try them on, and let me know which one you prefer. If none suit your fancy, we'll keep looking."
Gratefully accepting the dresses, she flashed him another appreciative smile, purposefully avoiding Isaac's gaze as he raised his eyebrows suggestively in her direction. "Thank you," she said sincerely, turning to make her way to the fitting rooms.
"Sunshine, can you come over for a moment?" Quinn's voice echoed from within the dressing room, drawing Isaac's attention away from his cell phone. He rose from his seat, curiosity piqued, and made his way over to where his girlfriend was trying on dresses.
"What do you need?" he inquired, poking his head around the doorframe with a smile.
"You," she replied, and before he could process her words, he felt the collar of his shirt being tugged, and in the next moment, he found himself pulled inside the dressing room by his girlfriend's eager hands. Before he could utter a word, his girlfriend's lips were on his, pressing him against the fitting room door in a passionate kiss. Sighing contentedly, he returned her kiss, his hands finding their place on her waist as they melted into each other. They remained locked in their embrace for a few blissful minutes before reluctantly parting.
"I'm not complaining," Isaac murmured against her lips as they finally broke apart, "but what's all this about?"
Quinn turned away from him to glance at herself in the mirror, adjusting her hair as she contemplated another dress. "You could at least pretend to be a little jealous, you know?"
Taking a seat on the stool nearby, he watched her intently. "You wanted me to get jealous of that salesman?" he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.
She met his gaze through the mirror, her lips forming a pout. "You could," she insisted. "Otherwise, I'm the only one in this relationship who gets to be jealous, and I don't like it."
Rising from the stool, Isaac approached her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. He gazed at her with a possessive gleam in his eyes. "You're my girlfriend, Quinn," he asserted firmly. "I know where we both stand. I trust you, and I trust our relationship."
Leaning in closer, he whispered into her ear, his voice tinged with a hint of possessiveness. "But if you want to hear it, you're mine. And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter who looks at you or who tries to get your attention. You're mine. They can try all they want, but you belong to me."
His hazel eyes darkened with intensity, sending shivers down Quinn's spine. "You're not Finn's, Puck's, Sam's, or even some random fucking salesman," he continued, his voice low and commanding. "You're mine. Mine to keep, mine to love, and mine to fuck."
"Is that what you wanted to hear, baby?" he continued, his voice was husky with desire as he spoke, his breath hot against her skin. "Did you want to hear how much I want to bend you over and fuck that attitude of yours? Because I could, you just have to say the words, and I'll rip this fucking dress off of you."
Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his lips trailing kisses along her neck, her heart racing at his words. "You'd have to pay for it," she managed to gasp out, her voice breathless as her eyes darkened with arousal as his hands began to fiddle with the zipper of her dress.
"I'll gladly pay for a hundred dresses like this, if I'm the one who gets to take them off of you, baby. You know Daddy can."
A soft gasp escaped her lips as he sucked hard on a particularly sensitive spot, her head spinning with desire. "Who are you, and what have you done with my Sunshine?" she hissed, though the words came out more like a moan as pleasure surged through her body.
"I'm yours, you make me act like this," Isaac whispered in her ear, his voice sending shivers of anticipation down her spine. "Always walking around in those sinfully short cheerleader skirts, smiling and pretending to be innocent when you're anything but a dirty needy little girl."
Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as she struggled to form a coherent response. "That's not... not true," she protested weakly, her voice betraying her as she met his gaze
"Are you sure about that?" Isaac leaned in closer, his intoxicating scent filling her senses. "Are you my good girl, baby? Didn't seem like it out there."
"Y-Yes," she breathed, her resolve wavering as she met his gaze, her lips parting slightly. "I'm your good girl."
With a satisfied smile, her boyfriend pulled away, his eyes dancing with adoration and mischief. "Great, I'll wait for you outside. That dress looks beautiful on you, baby. I love you." With those words, he turned and walked out of the dressing room, leaving her dazed and filled with a heady mixture of frustration and desire.
She let out a frustrated scream, cursing herself for falling into his little games once again, as she listened to his laughter echoing on the other side of the door.
