Not Making the Same Mistake Again

Summary: Less than four months remain of the school year, for some students it's the last four months at William McKinley High. Therefore it's natural for the kids to want to make the best of the remaining time. However, a lot of things can go wrong in sixteen weeks . . .

Rated Teen for language primarily. There may be some spoilers for the two first seasons of the show as well as the third up until somewhere short after the episode Hold on to Sixteen.

I hope you will enjoy reading this multi-character fanfiction as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

I apologize in advance for any incorrect grammar or typo that may occur.

Reviews are very welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor do I own any of its characters. The same goes for anything involving the music mentioned.

End of author's note. Now on to the story!

Prologue

What happens when you realize that you've only got a semester left of you high school time? That you've got less than half a year to make things right and to make sure that when you are gone people will still remember who you were and what you achieved. Who doesn't want to have their children point at them in the Thunderclap and say 'That's my mom/dad!' with a proud voice?

But is it possible to create an image to be remembered for in less than four months? To become popular, break up with that squirt you may be dating, reconcile with your high school sweetheart, make up with your best friend that you broke up with last year and ditch the loser that you are hanging out with at the point?

And is it possible to do all of this while keeping straight A's or at least B's or maybe C's so that you can have a decent shot at getting into the college you have applied for?

But most importantly; can you do all this while fighting for a win at Sectionals, Regionals and Nationals?

Or does fate have other things in mind for you? Or maybe God wants to have a finger in the pie? If he exists . . . And more likely: what will Sue Sylvester do to dash your way?

Chapter 1 – You are the voice

[Monday]

It is already a few weeks into the new year, but still everything feels just like it did a couple of months ago. Like total crap.

It is funny how you always tend to think that things will change—often for the better—just because it is a new year coming. As if a new year automatically means a fresh new start.

Lucy Quinn Fabray should have known better. She is a clever girl and therefore she should definitely have known better. Especially since she has made the same mistake year after year—wishing for something better—and always ending up screwing things up.

For freshman year she had wished for popularity and prosperity, which she had indeed gotten. She became the school's most popular girl, the one at the top of the food chain. She was untouchable.

Sadly nothing lasts forever . . .

Her expectations for sophomore year had been pretty much the same. And yet again her wishes and hopes had been fulfilled, though only for her to lose a few months into the first semester when she found out she was pregnant. She had had everything, she had been the head cheerleader of the Cheerios, she was the prettiest girl in school and everybody parted as the Red Sea when she walked through the halls of William McKinley High School, she had dated the hottest boy in school—well, perhaps the second hottest boy after Noah Puckerman—and the quarterback of the school's football team, Finn Hudson. She had everything she had wished for and then came Glee Club, and Rachel Berry and Finn, which led to jealousy, wine coolers and a one-night stand with Puck. And somewhere along that line she screwed up her life completely.

For junior year she had wished for the same things, popularity and prosperity, but she had also wished for love. Regaining her popularity hadn't been hard as she had almost immediately been accepted back on the cheerleading squad and with that came automatic prosperity. But then came that blonde, new kid, Sam Evans. He swept her off her feet and told her that he would forever love her, and God had she believed him! Unfortunately though, being Quinn Fabray means you cannot ever settle with what you already have . . . and so the hunt had been on. Prom king and queen, Finn and a stupid kiss had ruined yet another perfect year.

Her wishes for this year, the last semester of her senior year, had been pretty much the same though, except for the love part. And so far, well, she hasn't screwed up completely – if you don't count her joining the Skanks short after summer break and her desperate attempt at getting Beth back or her asking Puck to give her a new baby, then she hasn't screwed up completely.

Problem is; there's a lot of time left for it . . .

Being normal Quinn again, well as normal as the "old Quinn" could be considered, felt kind of good. It didn't just feel good because she had actually hated that pink tousled hair she had sported or that disgusting nose ring, it felt good because now looking like the old Quinn, the beautiful blonde Quinn, she would actually have a decent chance at enjoying her senior year at McKinley High.

Her last year had been, well, both amazing and horrifying, pretty much like her sophomore year. One hell of a ride of ups and downs . . .

Walking down the crowded hall of McKinley High School's main building, Quinn catches sight of an oh so familiar face. A wide toothy smile spreads across her face as she sees the boy wave at her and she quickens her steps to catch up with him.

'Oh my gosh, Quinn! You look fa-bu-lous!' the boy greats her as he leans forward and plants a kiss on each side of her face. 'Is that a Ralph Lauren?'

She giggles at his loud comments and shakes her head quickly. 'No, Kurt, it's not. It's just a cheap look-alike I bought in France.'

He shoots her one of his characteristic you better not be tricking me, honey-looks before he goes back to admiring her dress. 'Oh my God! It looks so authentic!'

She smiles. 'They did a good job.'

'They sure did, honey. Delicious.'

She giggles once again. 'Thank you, Kurt.'

He bows—an odd gesture for him—and hooks his arm with hers. 'May I?'

'Yeah,' she snickers. Having Kurt Hummel asking to escort you to your next class is flattering really. Not because he is a great singer and has awesome taste in fashion, but because he is the sweetest and most caring guy at school.

'So tell me, honey, what more beautiful fashion did you bring home?'

'Oh God, a lot! You should have seen the boutiques!' she says, thinking about the never ending streets filled with small clothing shops.

The statement causes Kurt to giggle, a not too uncommon reaction from his side. But he stops quickly as he is bumped into by a bypassing boy.

'Quinn, Lance Bass,' the other guy says.

'You're such a loser, Puck!' Quinn exclaims as the bump-in was obviously intended.

The well-toned boy throws her an air kiss and spins around and starts to walk away.

'He's such a moron . . .' Quinn notes and throws a glance over her shoulders just to see that Puck has turned around and is looking hungrily at her. She sighs and calls out to him, 'Stop looking at my butt, you perv!' before she turns back around and grabs Kurt's arm anew. 'What?' she asks at the raised eyebrow-expression Kurt is giving her.

'He still likes you,' the petite boy notes.

'So?'

'So?' Kurt imitates her.

'Oh for God's sake, stop it Kurt, I'm not in a mood for this!' she says and she can hear her HBIC-attitude taking over.

Kurt rolls his eyes and sighs loudly. 'Oh, sweetie, you need to loosen up!'

'What are you talking about?' she glances skeptically at him.

'Friday night. 8 P.M. My place. Just the girls. It will be amazing.' He basically sings the last word out.

Quinn sighs. 'I don't know, Kurt.'

'Oh please, sweetheart! I will miss you!' the brown haired boy pleads. 'Oh, and we will do each other's hair and have facials!' he ads in an attempt to get her more interested.

She smiles softly. 'We'll see.'

'I really want you to come! We could gossip about boys and fashion-mess-ups . . . And I kind of need your advice on something.' Kurt's tone changed somewhat with the last sentence, to a more . . . what? Embarrassed tone? No, not really. Insecure? Definitely!

Quinn shoots him a glance. 'About what?'

'I'd rather not discuss that right now, right here,' He lets his beautiful mélange eyes sweep up and down the hall.

'Oh, okay . . .'

'Please come on Friday!' his tone changes back to its normal cheerful one, but before Quinn can give him another "We'll see", he excuses himself and says he has to run to a class and then he leaves her.

Was that just me or is Kurt acting more strange than usual today? She picks up her pace again and continues walking towards her English class.

The door to the class room is already open and she walks inside and takes a seat at the rear back. There is barely anyone in the room expect from the class' two teachers' pets. They're always in the class room before everybody else. Once Brittany had asked her how they could get there as fast, she had asked if they knew how to teleport. Quinn had tried to explain to Brittany that that wasn't the case, that they didn't know how to teleport, but as usual the taller blonde was a lost case to reason with.

She takes her English book from her bag and places it on her desk. The other kids are starting to swarm into the class room as the clock above the door says 9 A.M.

'Look who's already here!' Quinn hears a familiar voice say as she is opening up her English book.

The next thing she sees is a tight ass dressed in blue denims sitting down on her open book. 'You sick or something Q?' the raven haired girl sitting on Quinn's desk stretches out a hand and puts it on Quinn's forehead. 'Nope,' the girl continues as she realizes her friend's head is not hot, 'no fever. You hit your head or somethin', Fabray?'

Quinn rolls her eyes and pushes away the girl sitting on her desk. 'Drop it, Santana.'

'What did she drop?' another girl asks, this one blonde, and starts to scan the floor after anything that might have gotten dropped by the raven haired girl.

Quinn and the Latina both roll their eyes simultaneously.

'Brittany, she didn't drop anything,' Quinn explains.

'It's just a saying, Britt,' Santana sighs.

'Oh . . . I know that . . .' Brittany says slowly and gets back up on her feet. 'Uh . . . by the way, I found my gum.'

'Your what?' Santana asks and frowns, not sure she actually wants to hear what Brittany just found.

'My gum, it was under the tab—'

'Okay, stop it right there! I don't wanna hear!' Santana says and puts her hand over Brittany's mouth.

Quinn smiles at her two friends. Talk about being each other opposites.

'So how's winter break?' Santana asks. 'No, forget that, how was France? In the winter?' Santana isn't the first one to think that it is a little unusual to visit Paris in the middle of the winter.

'It was good, really good.'

'Did you meet any cute Frances?' Brittany queers with sparkling eyes and as a result of the question Santana sends her an evil look sideways.

'And it's Frenchmen, Britt. Frenchmen,' the Latina mutters.

Santana's reaction causes Quinn to laugh but she soon covers her mouth as she realizes that the principal has walked into the class room. In a tow behind principal Figgins is a tall brown haired man with beautiful chocolate eyes.

The class room goes quiet as the short Indian man clears his throat. 'Silence, children. Silence,' he says anyway, with a heavy Indian accent. It must be a habit of his, always saying that. 'I have an announcement. This,' he gestures to the tall man beside him, 'is Mr. Eaton and he will be your English teacher from now on.'

'Hey, wait! What happened t—' one of the boys at the back calls out before principal Figgins interrupts him by telling the class that their previous teacher suffered a mental breakdown and had to be put into a mental hospital.

'What!' another student exclaims. 'What'd she do?'

Principal Figgins considers the consequences of him telling what happened. Are the children mature enough to hear the truth? Probably not. 'She caught her husband cheating on her with his personal tennis instructor; I think his name was Ian. No. Ivan . . . Igor? Yes, Igor, so she cut of his . . . well, you know what I mean . . . wiener, and then she fed it to their cats.' The class is all quietly staring at their principle. 'But she is good now. He too, except he's not . . . well, anyway, this is Mr. Eaton and he will be here for the rest of the semester.'

The students are all sitting mouth agape. You could probably hear a pin drop if anyone had been cliché enough to bring a pin to school so that they could drop it now.

'Thank you for listening. Enjoy your class,' principal Figgins says as he turns to walk to the door. 'Mr. Eaton,' he excuses himself as he almost walks into the young teacher. The short Indian leaves the class room and closes the door after himself.

'Well . . . I'm sorry to hear about your last teacher . . . I hope she gets well soon,' the new teacher says and turns to face the still shocked class. 'But in the meantime I hope we're going to have some serious fun!' His lips part into a white toothy grin. He's got perfect teeth.

Quinn catches Santana turn around towards her and the Latina mouths he's hot towards her blonde friend while rolling her eyes.

Quinn chuckles softly but covers her mouth so that the new teacher won't see it. He's actually kind of cute, she notes.

'By the way, my name is Brian Eaton,' the teacher continues, 'and I'm from Los Angeles, California. But enough about me, I want to learn to know you guys, so what about you pair up and then you tell me something interesting about your partner.'

The students quickly pair up and sit down in their pairs and never before has an assignment gone as smooth as this one. Perhaps English class will be quite fun this year.

'Okay, are you ready?' Brian asks and sits down on the master's desk. He is tall and he hasn't really got the body of a teacher. He looks more like, like an athlete. Like a baseball or a football player.

When he gets a resounding "Yeah!" he motions for the first pair, which is Artie and Brittany, to start.

'Should I start now?' the wheelchair bound boy asks nervously.

'Yeah.'

'Ok-ay . . . well, this is Brittany Pierce and she is a cheerleader and a very talented singer and dancer. Uh . . . she is also a part of Glee Club—'

'Loser' some jock at the back coughs.

'Continue,' Brian encourages Artie whilst he shoots a warning gaze at the boy who "coughed".

'She has a cat named Lord Tubbington and she is also very beautiful,' Artie finishes while blushing a little. They aren't dating any longer, Brittany and him, but he still manages to flush every once in a while when he is talking about her.

'Thank you, young man,' Brian says to Artie before he turns to Brittany. 'You're next.'

'Oh, is it my turn?'

'Yes, it is your turn,' Brian answers patiently.

'Okay.' A moment of silence passes. 'What am I supposed to do again?'

'Tell us others something interesting about your friend,' the teacher says.

'Oh, okay. Uh . . . This is Artie Abrams. He is disabled,' the comment causes some smothered chuckles and some silent gasps. Only Brittany can be so straightforward about the obvious that no one dares to comment on. 'but he's a very good singer. He is also in Glee Club. That's where I met him.'

'That's great,' Brian notes, referring to the singing and Glee Club. 'Anything else?'

'We have done it both in his chair and on his bed,' Brittany says with a wide smile. Once again, there is only one person who dares to say things like that: Brittany S. Pierce.

'Oh! Ok-ay . . . Thank you, Brittany,' Brian says whilst his cheeks redden some. 'Uh, next pair.'

'He's kind of hot when he blushes,' Quinn whispers to Santana, who giggles. 'No you cannot say that,' she quickly adds as she figures out why the Latina is finding the situation so amusing. 'I'll kill you if you say it!' the blonde threatens.

'Okay, okay, your secret is safe with me, Q, Santana whispers back as Brian hands the baton to the next group. But as Quinn can still see a smirk plying on Santana's lips she is not so sure her friend will keep the secret a secret for much longer. So when it is time for them, she quickly takes initiative to start, thinking that if she goes soft on Santana perhaps the girl will return the favor.

'This is Santana Lopez,' she starts and glances over at the girl in question, 'and she is one of my best friends. She is a cheerleader just as Brittany and she is also a very good singer. She's got a lot of attitude too, so she's not one to mess with' That earns her a couple of "You don't say" and "Really?" 'And, uh, I think I'm done.'

'Okay, you're up, Santana,' Brian says and nods.

'This is the fabulous Quinn Fabray,' Santana starts and at that Quinn discreetly knees the raven haired girl in her thigh. 'Cool it off, baby-mama! Where was I? Oh, yeah . . . This is Quinn. Ex-Cheerio and current Glee Clubber and oh, yeah, former president of the Celibacy Club, however we know how that ende—ouch! What the h—'

'I think we're good there, Santana. Thank you,' Eaton says.

'Yeah, yeah. Whatever,' the Latina mumbles. Then she turns to Quinn. 'What the hell did you kick me for?'

Quinn just eyeballs her friend.

'Aw, come one, Q! Everybody knows!'

'Still you don't have to bring it up,' she whispers, her voice barely audible. 'That wasn't cool, San.'

'Okay, I get it. I'm sorry.'

The blonde says nothing but judging by the tiny smile that appears on her lips the apology is accepted.

'Admit it though, you think he's hot,' Santana says quietly as she nudges Quinn in the side.

Being the first day back to school after winter break Rachel is super psyched about meeting all of her friends again. She hadn't had much time to hang out with her friends during the break since her dads had decided to renovate the kitchen. And the living room. She had been so busy painting walls and buying new porcelain that she had completely forgotten to bring the Glee group together for a party during the break as she had planned to. However spending some time off from her friends was probably just a good thing; it gave them all time to reflect over what had happened last year and to refill their depots. Also not spending time with the other kids in the club had left Rachel with a lot more alone time with her boyfriend, Finn Hudson. And it was needed. They had both realized that it would probably take a lot of work and time to patch up their ragged relationship, so that they would be able to trust each other again. After last year's bumpy ride of cheating and back stabbing the two brunettes have decided that no matter what happens they have to stay honest with each other. And having the whole winter break to reconcile and make up has definitely repaired their relationship.

She spots him standing by his locker—which is actually almost right next to hers—talking with some guy from the football team who she doesn't recall seeing around before. Maybe he's new, she is leaning lazily against the beige sheet metal doors, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his red WMHS varsity jacket.

She walks up to him as soon as she sees that the other footballer is leaving.

'Hey, Finn,' she says and brushes a strand of her brown hair from her face.

'Hey, Babe,' the tall boy whispers and leans in and kisses the top of her head. 'Was your first class okay?'

The short brunette nods. 'Yes, I suppose it was . . .'

'You suppose? That doesn't sound very Rachel-ish,' he chuckles and pulls out his Spanish books.

'Well, we've got a new English teacher.'

'Uh-hu . . . that's good though, isn't it? I think I remember you not liking the last one,' he says and smiles.

'Yes, I didn't, but . . .'

'But?' Finn queers.

'The new one is kind of . . . young and hip and . . . he's kind of good looking . . .' Rachel explains, flushing a bit as she says the last words.

'Okay . . . so? Luckily for Rachel her boyfriend doesn't notice her cheeks reddening. 'Since when does that bother you, Rach?' he continues.

'It doesn't, really . . . but there's something about him, you know. Something strange.'

'It doesn't have anything to do with the fact that Mrs. Whatever-her-name-was-again liked you a lot and gave you very good grades?' the tall boy asks absentmindedly.

Unfortunately for him that thoughtlessness earns him a fist to the shoulder. 'Ouch, Rach! Why'd you do that?' he exclaims. He never thought that the tiny girl could hit so hard.

'I'm not a teacher's pet, Finn!' the short diva mumbles and stares him dead in the eyes.

Finn takes a deep breath which he exhales before speaking again. 'I didn't mean it like that, Rachel. I know you're not a teacher's pet . . .' Total lie! 'I would be pretty upset too, if Mr. Schue quit teaching me in Spanish. I wouldn't pass if I got another teacher.' He tugs a strand of escaped hair behind her ear and smiles. God he loves this girl!

She stares at him for a couple of seconds, deciding whether to forgive him or not. Not surprisingly she chooses to go with the first alternative, being too afraid of risking their relationship for such a trifle. She has done that mistake before and she isn't about to redo it.

She gets up on her tiptoes and plants a soft kiss on his cheek. 'I love you, Finn Hudson,' she whisper in his ear.

Feeling the short brunette rest her hand on his chest and brush her lips against his skin causes his knees to soften. When she whispers her affection into his ear it's like song to him. The most beautiful song ever sung.

'I love you too, Rachel Berry,' he replies and kisses her lips.

Finally it's time for the first Glee class since before Winter break. Not having met all the others in the group during the break, Finn is looking forward—more than ever—to see the guys again.

He strides into the choir room, alone, since he had to go to the bathroom and therefore had told Rachel to not wait for him.

He high-fives Puck, nods friendly at Mike and fist pumps Artie—who would have thought that would ever happened two years ago—before he gets up on the second row and takes a seat beside Rachel, pecking her on the cheek as he sits down.

'I've missed you, babe,' she whispers in his ear and twines their fingers together.

'It's been like five minutes, Rachel . . .'

'I still missed you.' She smiles at him.

'Welcome back kids!' Mr. Schue shouts in a happy voice as he enters the choir room. There's a huge smile plastered on his face. 'I hope the break's done good to you. That you're all rested and ready to get back to business.'

'Of course we are, Mr. Schue,' Rachel answers for the whole group.

Schuester smiles. 'That sounds good, Rachel.' And before the short brunette girl gets any time to start talking again, Schue continues, 'However, spending this New Year's Eve alone in my apartment, listening to my old vinyl records – it got me thinking.'

'About what, Mr. Schue?' Artie asks and pushes his glasses up over the hump of his nose. He is seated in the front row next to Mike Chang.

'It got me feeling very nostalgic. I realized I knew all the words, all the steps. Then it got me thinking: is there a song like that today? A song that everybody has heard of, that everybody knows?'

'Lady Gaga,' Kurt points out bored.

'Okay, Lady Gaga's an exception, but can you find anyone else?' Schue takes a deep breath to control his agitation. 'There isn't someone like Michael Jackson or Madonna or Wham! out there today!'

Kurt rolls his eyes nonchalantly. He loves Madonna and Michael Jackson and even Wham! but Lady Gaga is as good as any of the others, and in his opinion a lot more interesting too.

'So that, my friends, is why I have decided that this week's assignment is the 80's,' Schue announces, reaching over to the piano and picking up some sheet music.

Rachel claps her hand intensively. 'Yay!' Is there any theme she isn't thrilled about?

'I am so not doing any more hairography à la Whitesnake,' Kurt points out and straightens his back.

Santana rolls her eyes at the vain boy's complaining.

Mr. Schue quickly hands out the sheet music to the kids and gestures for the band to start at his count.

'One, two, ah, one, two, three, four!' he says then he starts to clap his hands. After a few seconds the keyboard player kicks in.

We have the chance to turn the pages over
We can write what we want to write
We gotta make ends meet, before we get much older

Schue lets go of the edge of the black piano and walks towards the kids on the first row. The choir teacher is looking happier than ever.

We're all someone's daughter, he sings to Quinn.
We're all someone's son, he reaches out to take Finn's hand.
How long can we look at each other
Down the barrel of a gun?

Kurt glances sideways at Mercedes, who responds with a wry smile of pity.

You're the voice, try and understand it
Make the noise and make it clear, oh, woah
We're not gonna sit in silence
We're not gonna live with fear, oh, woah

This time, we know we all can stand together
With the power to be powerful
Believing we can make it better

Ooh, we're all someone's daughter,

Mr. Schue takes Santana's hand, just to let it go a few seconds later. He moves over to Kurt and sings the next line to him.
We're all someone's son, oh
Give a look at each other
Down the barrel of a gun

You're the voice, try and understand it,

he sings at the top of his lungs. The kids—one after one—tune up in a powerful choir behind him.
Make the noise and make it clear, oh, woah
We're not gonna sit in silence
We're not gonna live with fear, oh, woah, he grabs Mercedes hand and leads her down to the floor and spins her around.

Ooh, we're all someone's daughter
We're all someone's son
How long can we look at each other
Down the barrel of a gun?

Everybody is now singing. Well, almost everybody. Except Sam. For some reason he isn't really in a mood to sing today.

You're the voice, try and understand it

Puck reaches his hand out to Quinn, smiling gently as he does. She accepts it and he walks her down to the floor, where most of the others are dancing, everyone except Rory, Sam and Artie, but Artie doesn't dance simply because it's kind of hard when you're in a wheel chair.
Make the noise and make it clear, oh, woah
We're not gonna sit in silence. Mercedes rushes up to Sam and leads him into a dance.
We're not gonna live with fear, oh, woah Rory joins the dancing kids as well, pairing up with Brittany.

You're the voice, try and understand it

Schue sings smiling broadly.
Make the noise and make it clear, oh, woah he wiggle his fingers and raises his arms in a gesture to get the kids sing higher.
We're not gonna sit in silence
We're not gonna live with fear, oh, woah

They repeat the chorus once again, all of them together.

You're the voice, try and understand it
Make the noise and make it clear, oh, woah
We're not gonna sit in silence
We're not gonna live with fear, oh, woah Schue holds the tone, while the others move on to sing the chorus once again.

You're the voice, try and understand it
Make the noise and make it clear, oh, woah
We're not gonna sit in silence
We're not gonna live with fear, oh, woah

'That, kids,' Schue pants, stroking the sweat from his forehead, 'is what I want it to sound like!'

The kids all laugh.

'That was great, Mr. Schue,' Tina giggles and several of the others nod in assent.

'Awesome, Mr. Schue!' Finn hollers.

The coach laughs and bows. 'Thank you, guys! Thank you!' He takes a deep breath, then he says, 'But that wasn't me . . . that was you. All you.'

Rachel snickers. 'Don't be silly Mr. Schue.'

'No, seriously guys, listen. I wouldn't be doing any of this without you. You changed my life . . . and that to the better. I would never have had the opportunity to do this if it wasn't for you. I have you to thank for a lot of things in my life.' Everybody listens intently at him. 'So, yes, this is all you. And I can't thank you enough.' He smiles.

For a moment it is completely quiet in the otherwise so noisy choir room.

Tina is the first to break the silence. 'Aww, Mr. Schue. We are the ones who should thank you!'

'Yeah,' Finn mumbles.

'Totally,' Santana agrees.

'No doubt,' Mercedes says and slides her hand into Sam's. 'None of us would be friends if it wasn't for you.' Sam blushes a bit.

'Right,' Puck says and puts his arm around Quinn's shoulder as he catches her glancing at Sam and Mercedes holding hands.

Schue smiles slightly. He very touched by his student's words. 'It's a win-win for everyone I guess,' he says and laughs softly.

'Totally,' Finn says and side-hugs Rachel. Schue watches him and smiles.

For once there is no drama, no trouble and no problems. Glee is in harmony. Finally. The question is: how long is it going to last?

There is a gentle knock on glass, then shortly after she hears the door open and close and suddenly she feels a pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind.

She is standing up, back against the door, putting up new brochures on her desk.

She feels a pair of warm lips against her neck and she hisses as they make contact with her skin once again. 'Will, this is not appropriate,' she giggles and turns around.

'I know, Emma, but I just needed to hold you,' Mr. Schue says and kisses her on the forehead.

'I love you too, Will,' she says and slides out of his grip. 'But this is our workplace and we need to respect that.' She blinks, her long eyelashes fluttering each time, though unintentionally.

He leans back against the glass wall, watching her with a smile on his lips. 'You are right, Emma. I shouldn't be doing that here . . . It's just . . . I'm so happy.' His smile widens.

She smiles as well. 'I'm glad I make you feel that way,' she snickers and returns to putting up colorful brochures.

Divorce: Why your parents stopped loving you, So you like throwing up, I can't stop toughing myself. Where does she get those? They are . . . weird. He wrinkles his forehead.

'Are you okay?' she queers.

'What?'

'Are you okay, Will? You looked . . . confused,' Emma says and walks around her desk.

'Uh . . . you saw that?' he chuckles. 'I just watched your booklets. They are . . . uh, special.'

She giggles. 'You are acting very weird today, William.' He shrugs and smiles and she sits down behind her desk and starts to sharpen one of her pencils.

I am marrying one of the most amazing women in this world. He smiles.

She looks up. 'You are honestly starting to scare me, Will. Are you sure you're okay?'

'One hundred percent,' he assures her. 'But I should probably get going.'

Emma nods. 'Yes. You shouldn't miss your class because of me.'

Will stops short in the door way. He turns around with a smile. 'Now I remember why I really came here,' he says.

'Yes?' Emma queers excitedly, but also a bit nervous.

'The kids are doing the eighties and since I know how much you like that era, why don't you come and listen to their performances this week?'

Emma's face breaks into a huge smile. 'Really? That sound very fun, Will. I'll come!'

'Good,' he says and walks over and kisses her one last time before he leaves the room.

I'm marrying one of the most amazing men in this world, she notes with a smile.

Dear Journal,

There are certain benefits you get from being the biggest and, well only, local celebrity of Lima Heights, Ohio, as I am. Apart from a private parking slot with an engine pre-heater both at McKinley High School, the mall and the local television studio you also get respect and power. The kids fear you. The teachers submit to you. They stop eating their donuts or drinking their lousy coffee as you walk into the teachers lunch room. You are at the top of the food chain. And there is no one that can bring you down.

Well, except for one man and his ridiculous little show choir of misfits.

Ever since Will Schuester took over that Glee Club, he and Figgins have been milking my budget for the Cheerios, even going as far as forcing my Cheerios to have their uniforms dry cleaned here in the United States of America instead of in Europe, which they rightfully deserves. But that will have to end. Right now! I will find a way to destroy that permed hair named William Schuester and the kids of his Glee Club, once and for all.

She presses the pen hard against the paper as she marks the last dot. Then she shuts the skin-wrapped book close and puts it in the top drawer of her desk, locks the drawer and hides the golden key in one of her older Cheerios trophies. Then she leans back in her chair and folds her legs. 'Destroying Glee Club . . .' she mumbles and starts to think of ways to make her greatest dream come true.

She is in the middle building a giant confetti canon that will bury Will Schuester and his pathetic pack of degenerated teens in red and white confetti when there is a firm knock on the hard wood that constitutes the door to her office.

'Yes,' she calls out in a wheezy tone that would fool anyone to think that she has been smoking since childhood.

'Coach?' A low, careful voice asks.

'Come in Becky,' Sue says and motions for the short blonde girl to step inside her office. She has been waiting for the girl to come. 'Reports?'

Becky walks up to the desk and stand with straight back. 'Glee Club is singing songs from the 80's,' she lisps. 'Mr. Schuester has asked Ms. Pillsbury to come.' The short girl raises her hand to her head and salutes her coach.

Sue nods thoughtfully. Not much to work with there . . . 'Good job, Becky. But we need something juicier. Something that will make the extinction of Glee Club inevitable.' Sue's face twists into an evil grin and Becky smiles. Then the Cheerios coach turns her full attention back to the short blonde girl. There is a look in her eye, but Sue cannot quite put her finger on what it is. But she knows that it is good. She says, 'You, Becky, will grow up to become something important one day . . .'

The blonde girl blushes and smiles. 'Oh, th-thank you, coa—'

'Now, go out and find something that will bring Glee Club to the grave!'

Becky nods intensely. 'Got it, coach.' Then she hustles out of the room.

'Prepare to be crushed, William,' Sue grunts as she picks up a red and white dart and tosses it at the dart board on which she has had Becky tape a picture of Will Schuester. The dart digs its way into the curly haired man's forehead, right into the spot between his eyes. Shot dead center.

Author's note

Hope you enjoyed the prologue and the first chapter!

The song sung by Mr. Schuester was You're the Voice by John Farnham. Great song that always makes me happy.

Remember that reviews are always welcome!