Past, Present, and Future Tense (Episode 3.05) (1/2)
Title: Past, Present, and Future Tense (Episode 3.05)
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Ensemble, emphasis on Tina, Puck, Quinn, Brittany, Finn, and Rachel, with some side Mike/Tina, Finn/Rachel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~9,700
Spoilers: Glee: Through 2.22 "New York"
Summary: Finn and Rachel think about college, Puck runs into Shelby and Beth in the park and forces Quinn to deal with her past, Brittany's sad, and we find out what it is about Tina's family dynamic that made her the type of person who would fake a stutter. Oh, and Will wants them all to bare their souls onstage. A proposal for episode 3.05.
Author's Note: This is written like it's an episode of the show, so I mostly deal with outward reactions, rather than the characters inner thoughts and feelings. Part of my Fantasy Season 3 series. And if you've been following along, no, you didn't miss any chapters. I'm doing select episodes, so I skipped from episode 2 to episode 5. However, I'm going to reference some things that happened in the interim, so make sure to read the pre-episode recap!
Episode 1: Magic Kingdom
Episode 2: What You Want
So, here's what you missed on Glee: Will got the club in trouble for making an inappropriate song choice, so he owes Figgins a favor. Tina and Mike are the most adorable couple in the history of everything, although Klaine and Samcedes give them a run for their money. Puck got Quinn pregnant and they had a baby named Beth who got adopted by Shelby Corcoran (Rachel's mother, which, I don't even want to get into that) and then promptly forgot to deal with the emotional consequences of that. Finn and Rachel got back together because he feels tethered to her, and she's stuck in Lima until she moves to New York. In Big Gay News, Brittany wants to be with Santana but Santana's not ready to come out at home, but she totally has a new naked-lady friend a couple hours away where no one knows who she is. Also, Karofsky joined Glee, which isn't really relevant, but if you're confused about why he's there, that's why.
As for the past two episodes? Uh . . . let's say everybody went to the Sing-a-Long Sound of Music, and presumably lots of hilarious and vaguely offensive things were said. The important thing is that Emma is actually doing her job now, and she's starting to have one-on-one sessions with the graduating seniors to help them figure out what they want to do after high school. So far, Tina wants to go into social justice, Rachel wants to be a star, and Finn is pretty sure that he wants to go to college, although he doesn't know what he'll do there other than keg stands.
. . . And that's what you missed, on Glee!
Past, Present, and Future Tense (3.05)
Tina and Mike managed to open the door to Tina's bedroom without having to stop kissing. Mike kicked the door shut behind them as they stumbled in.
“You are wearing way too much shirt,” Tina said, her voice husky, and Mike briefly stopped what he was doing to pull his polo over his head.
“Same to you,” he grinned mischievously, and he began to unbutton her blouse. Tina helped him as they started making out again, and soon she was down to her bra. She collapsed backwards onto the bed and pulled Mike by his belt buckle so he was on top of her.
“Are you sure your parents aren't home?” Mike asked, brushing the hair away from Tina's shoulder so he could plant a row of kisses up her neck.
Tina rolled her eyes. “Please. When are my parents ever home? Or paying attention?”
Mike pulled back and looked at her, the concern evident on his face. She propped herself up on her elbows and kissed him.
“Let's get back to what we were doing,” Tina said. Mike was about to argue when a voice called from downstairs.
“Tina? Are you home?”
“My mom!” Tina whispered frantically. In a panic, she pushed Mike off of her and he rolled off the side of the bed, his long limbs flying everywhere. Once he'd recovered his bearings, he popped back up.
“What do I do?” he asked. Tina was looking around for her shirt, but when the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs started, she dove for the blankets on her bed.
“I don't know,” she hissed. “Hide!”
Mike threw himself back down to the floor and slid under the bed just as Mrs. Cohen-Chang opened the door.
“There you are,” she said.
Tina tried desperately to control her rapid breathing. “Hi. I was just . . . napping.”
“Well, get up, dear. Allen just called, and he was able to get an earlier flight. We have to pick him up from the airport at six tonight.”
“Really? The hospital gave him extra time off?”
Mrs. Cohen-Chang shrugged. “He'll have to leave early, too, that's just the life of a resident--” She paused as she noticed Mike's polo shirt on the ground.
“Whose shirt is that?” she asked.
“Glee club,” Tina said quickly. “Glee club costume.”
“Oh, right,” her mother said absently. “Glee club. I always forget about that. Anyway, we'll be leaving in ten minutes, so if you want to come--”
“I'll be down in five,” Tina promised. Mrs. Cohen-Chang smiled again and shut the door behind her when she left.
Mike crawled out from under the bed and pushed himself to his knees.
“Allen?” he asked. “As in, your brother Allen?”
“As in, my brother Allen.” Tina smiled at him when she said it, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
* * *
Kurt took a seat next to Mike in the choir room. “Is there something wrong with Tina?” he asked, looking to where his friend sat in the front row between Mercedes and Artie.
“I'm impressed you could tell,” Mike said. “I don't think many people would be able to.”
Kurt scoffed. “Please. Simple black t-shirt and black jeans with no make-up, no lace, and no studs? It's not quite as Spartan as her post-Asian-vampire-identiy-crisis wardrobe, but it's still cause for concern.”
“Her brother's home for a week,” Mike said. “I don't know a lot about their relationship, and it seems like she's happy he's around, but there's some tension there, too.” He sighed. “She won't tell me what's going on, though.”
“Today's your day to hang out with Brittany, isn't it?” Kurt asked.
“Yeah.”
“I'll take it,” Kurt said. “I'll be fulfilling my official duty as her gay ex-boyfriend. You look after your girl, all right?”
“Thanks,” Mike smiled. He put up his hand for a fist bump. Kurt arched an eyebrow at such a blatant display of bro-dom, but he knocked their knuckles together anyway.
“Okay, guys,” Will said when the bell rang. “I've got some exciting news. We're going to be putting on a revue this week!”
“A revue?” Santana said. “Because that went so well last time.”
“I know,” Will said, “But this will be different. We'll have a captive audience.” He thought back to his conversation with Figgins.
“So, the favor is that you want us to put on a show?” Will asked.
“Yes,” Figgins said. “The school hasn't put on a musical in two years, and parents are starting to wonder where their annual arts fees are going. So, you and the children are going to put on a concert for the PTA! Isn't that exciting?”
“What exactly are we going to do?” Finn asked.
“The theme is going to be 'Through Your Children's Eyes,'” Will said. “I want everybody to choose a song that expresses your inner-most thoughts and feelings about being a teenager in America today. You can do solos, duets, group numbers, whatever.” He paused and looked at Rachel, who had become increasingly excited. “But no more than two performances per person, okay?”
Mercedes snickered. “Uh-oh. You just ruined Rachel's plans to sing a duet with every member of glee club.”
“Oh, hush,” Rachel said. “I was thinking no such thing.”
“Yeah, you forgot the five solos she wanted to sing, too,” Kurt added from the back. He and Mercedes smirked at each other while the other glee kids laughed. In sharp contrast to the way things used to be, Rachel laughed along with them.
“The other thing,” Will said, “is that I'm giving anyone who wants to the opportunity to pitch a song we can do as the closing number.”
“Have you just, like, run out of ideas?” Puck asked.
Will smiled and shook his head. “No, but for a lot of you, this is your last year of glee. I want you guys to be able to take ownership of the club and get some good leadership experience.”
“Speaking of leadership experience,” Rachel cut in, “Kurt and I would like to show you all a duet we've been working on that I think would work well for the revue.”
“We would?” Kurt asked.
“Wait, what does that have to do with leadership experience?” Finn wondered aloud to himself.
“Of course we would,” Rachel said. “The Mika?”
Kurt grinned. “Oh, yes. That would be good, wouldn't it?” He followed Rachel up to the front of the room and whispered something to the jazz band.
“Remember when they used to hate each other?” Santana asked. “That was fun. I miss that.”
Rachel ignored her. “The song we are going to perform for you today is an expression of how unique and fabulous Kurt and I are, and how we are going rub our inevitable success in the faces of every bozo in this town who ever told us we would fail.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Kurt sat down at the piano and started to play and sing. “Do I attract you? Do I repulse you, with my queasy smile?”
Rachel took the next line. “Am I too dirty? Am I too flirty? Do I like what you like?”
“I could be wholesome, I could be loathsome, 'guess I'm a little bit shy.”
“Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me, without makin' me try?”
“I tried to be like Grace Kelly,” Rachel sang, and Kurt took the back-up part. “But all her looks were too sad.”
“So I tried a little Freddy,” Kurt sang, growling the name. “I've gone identity mad!”
Rachel sang the arpeggiated line, and they harmonized the chorus.
“I could be brown,
I could be blue,
I could be violet sky.
I could be hurtful,
I could be purple,
I could be anything you like.
Gotta be green,
Gotta be mean,
Gotta be everything more.
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you walk out the door?”
They switched the order of the parts on the second verse.
“How can I help it? How can I help it? How can I help what you think?” Rachel sang, boosting herself to sit on the piano lid.
“Hello my baby, hello my baby, putting my life on the brink,” Kurt sang after.
“Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me? Why don't you like yourself?”
“Should I bend over? Should I look older, just to be put on your shelf?”
“I tried to be like Grace Kelly.” Kurt took those lines this time. “But all her looks were too sad.”
“So I tried a little Freddy,” Rachel belted. “I've gone identity mad!”
They sang the chorus again, and as they hit the bridge, Kurt kicked the piano bench back behind him and started playing standing up.
“Say what you want to satisfy yourself,” he sang. Rachel joined him on the next line. “But you only want what everybody else says you should want. You want . . .”
“I could be brown,
I could be blue,
I could be violet sky.
I could be hurtful,
I could be purple,
I could be anything you like.
Gotta be green,
Gotta be mean,
Gotta be everything more.
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you like me?
Walk out the door!”
They sweetly sang the last “oooh” in unison, and then the song was over. The rest of the glee club applauded and cat called.
“Very nice,” Will said. “You might want to be . . . slightly more diplomatic in your intro, but this is exactly the type of emotional truth I want to see.”
* * *
Lauren walked into Will's office. “I have a proposition,” she said.
“Great,” Will replied. “Let's hear it!”
“We do 'Killer Queen' as the closing number,” Lauren said, “and the guys carry me in on one of those bed things like I'm Cleopatra while the girls fan me with palm fronds.”
Will just looked at her. “. . . And this has what to do with life as an American teenager, again?”
Lauren shrugged. “You said to express our true feelings. My true feelings are that people should worship me like a deity.”
“Um, thanks, Lauren,” Will said. “I'll . . . consider it.”
* * *
Puck was jogging through the park. He paused at a picnic table to catch his breath and stretch out his hamstrings. When he looked up, he saw something that made his eyes go wide.
Shelby Corcoran sat on a park bench not fifty yards away from him, and she was waving a stuffed animal at a little girl in a stroller.
He immediately raced toward them. Shelby looked up in alarm, but her face relaxed when she realized who it was.
“Oh,” she said as he stopped beside them, “Noah Puckerman. I didn't recognize you with the--” She made a vague waving motion over her head to indicate the mohawk.
He didn't really acknowledge her presence; he was too focused on the girl in the stroller.
“Is that--?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Beth.”
Puck knelt down next to his daughter. “Beth,” he whispered. He started to reach a hand toward her but stopped himself. “Is it-- I mean, can I . . .?”
“You can hold her hand, sure,” Shelby said.
“Hey there,” Puck said softly, grabbing Beth's hand. Beth seemed a little confused, but she allowed him to touch her.
“She's gotten so big . . .” Puck murmured, putting one hand over his mouth as he tried to keep his composure.
“We were just coming back from a check-up,” Shelby said. “Her pediatrician is in Lima. She started getting fussy in the car, so I thought I'd take her for a little walk before we went home.”
“A check-up?” Puck asked, suddenly concerned. “What's wrong with her?”
“Nothing,” Shelby smiled. “Just a routine visit. To make sure everything's fine.”
Puck let out a sigh of relief. “Good,” he said. He picked up the stuffed bear and held it in front of Beth's face. “You want to play with your friend?” he asked, his voice sounding suspiciously similar to baby-talk.
“Barbra,” Shelby said. “The bear's name is Barbra.”
“Of course it is,” Puck said. When Beth stretched out her arms for the bear, he let her take it.
“You miss her, don't you?” Shelby remarked.
“Every day.”
“You weren't the one who wanted to give her up.”
Puck raised himself off the ground and onto the bench next to Shelby. “No. Definitely not my choice.”
Shelby studied him. “Have you ever heard of an open adoption?” she asked. Puck shook his head.
“It's where the birth parents give up their legal rights, but they're still allowed some contact with the child. Some people only ever send pictures or letters. Some people get to see their kid a few times a year. It's different for everyone, but . . .”
Puck frowned. “Are you saying that was an option?”
“I'm saying it's an option now. Look, Noah, I know how hard it is to give up a child, and it can be so, so difficult to get past the guilt and pain that comes with it when that child is grown up . . .”
“Is that why you dropped Rachel like a leper with the Ebola virus?” Puck asked. Shelby glared at him, but her expression softened when she realized there was no malice in his words, only a poorly worded truth.
“It was too hard for me,” she admitted. “I can see how much you love Beth. I don't want it to ever be that hard for you.” She pulled her phone out of her purse. “Give me your e-mail address. I can send you some pictures, and we can go from there?”
“Yeah,” Puck grinned. “Yeah, I'd like that a lot.”
* * *
Finn sat on Rachel's bed looking slightly overwhelmed. “You're . . . really prepared,” he managed to say.
Rachel stood in front of him with a white board set up on an easel; the board was divided into a “Finn” half and a “Rachel” half.
“Your future is important, Finn! And after you told me about your session with Ms. Pillsbury, I though you might need a little help deciding what to do with it. This'll be fun! It's like one of those Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books, except you have to live with your decisions for the rest of your life!”
Finn just kept staring at the white board. “Where did you get one of those, anyway? Did you steal it from school?”
She shot him a look. “You can buy them in stores, sweetie. Anyway, since you don't know what you want to study yet, I've written down a bunch of schools in Ohio with relatively low tuition rates and plentiful scholarship opportunities, and . . .” she pulled a stack of pamphlets out from behind her back, “we can look through their recruitment materials together to see which option might work best for you!”
Rachel sat down next to him and handed him the brochures.
“That's great, Rachel,” Finn said, “but what about your side of the board?” Her list was much less detailed than his, and only included three schools: NYU, Julliard, and Columbia.
“Oh, don't worry about that,” she said. “That's for my own personal edification.”
“I don't know what that word means, but why are all of my schools in Ohio and all of your schools in New York?”
“You knew Julliard was in New York?” Rachel asked, clearly touched.
“I do listen when you talk sometimes,” Finn said. “You didn't answer my question.”
“Well, there are lots of reasons,” she said. “Out-of-state tuition is more expensive, plus the increased cost of living in New York, the schools are highly competitive and . . .” She paused. “Mostly, I didn't think you'd want to leave Ohio.”
“I don't know for sure,” Finn admitted. “But,” he put down the pamphlets and took her hands, “I think it's worth looking into. Like, I did some Google-fu, and there's Manhattan College, or Long Island University has a campus in Brooklyn--”
“Brooklyn's farther from Manhattan than you'd think,” Rachel said.
“I'm just saying. I'd be willing to come out there.” He smiled. “I liked New York. New York is a cool place.”
“Yeah,” Rachel said, forcing a smile, “New York is a cool place.”
* * *
“It's not that I don't love your friends,” Blaine said as they waited for their coffee. “Because I do. But . . . why is Brittany with us on our Tri-Weekly After-School Coffee Date?”
Kurt looked over at their table, where Brittany seemed to be building a small fort out of sugar packets and stir sticks.
“She and Santana aren't speaking to each other right now,” he said. “I think they had a fight about . . . you know . . .”
“Right,” Blaine said.
“And this is the longest they've ever gone without hanging out together. It's making Brittany sad.” Kurt sighed. “So we've all been trying to spend some time with her, keep her occupied . . . It was Mike's turn today, but Tina needed him, so I took over.” He paused. “I hope that's all right.”
“Of course it is,” Blaine said. Their drinks were put on the counter. Blaine picked up his coffee while Kurt grabbed his own and a monstrous pink concoction with whipped cream on top that had to be Brittany's. “That's one of the things I love about you, you know. Your kindness.”
Kurt snorted. “Remind me to tell you about the Rachel-catsuit atrocity. You won't think me so kind then.” They reached their table and sat down. Kurt handed Brittany her drink.
“Thanks,” Brittany said. She immediately took the top off of it and started skimming the whipped cream off with her straw. Then she licked the straw clean.
It might have been seductive if she had been in other company, but the two boys in front of her just exchanged glances.
“Brittany, is there something wrong?” Blaine asked. “I mean, is there anything we can do to help?”
“You are such a fixer,” Kurt muttered affectionately. Brittany just shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Time just needs to move faster.” She looked at Blaine carefully. “Unless you're really Superman and you can fly around the Earth a bunch to speed up time? That would help. But I don't think you're Superman. You have the hair, but you're way too short.”
At Blaine's slightly offended look, Kurt took over the conversation. “Britt-Britt,” he said seriously. “We know you're hurting; we can see it. Isn't there anything we can do to make you feel better?”
“Well, there are two of you . . .” Brittany mused. Realizing her train of thought, Kurt plowed on.
“What about a song?” he suggested. “A song you can do at the show. We'll help you find a song the conveys your innermost feelings about . . . the situation you're in, and you can get out your emotions like that.” He looked over at Blaine, who nodded his approval.
“Okay,” Brittany said, “but I think I like my idea better.”
Kurt shook his head and patted her hand. “Oh, sweetie, no. Just . . . no.”
* * *
Mike sat awkwardly next to Tina at a table in Breadstix. The rest of the Cohen-Chang family was there, too, including Allen.
“God, I haven't been to this place in years,” Allen remarked, taking in the décor. “I don't think it's changed a bit.”
“The bread sticks have gotten worse,” Mr. Cohen-Chang grumbled, and he broke one in half. “They used to be soft and chewy. What happened?”
Tina was still sitting tensely next to him, so Mike squeezed her knee under the table and whispered, “Santana happened,” in her ear. They both giggled a bit.
“So, Mike,” Allen said, “how did you meet my sister?”
“We're in glee club together,” Mike answered.
“He's the most amazing dancer we have,” Tina added, grinning at her boyfriend. “He did this number at Sectionals last year--”
“Tina,” Mrs. Cohen-Chang admonished, “Allen's having his first day off in six months. He doesn't want to hear about that silly little hobby you have.”
“Mom, it's really okay--” Allen started, but she cut him off.
“He's in his second year of residency,” she told Mike. “Graduated top of his class at Johns Hopkins. Johns Hopkins! I always thought it was 'John Hopkins University' before he got in!”
“That's very impressive,” Mike said. Allen shot him an embarrassed look, like he was sorry about his mother going on about it.
“And what is it you're doing now, dear?” Mrs. Cohen-Chang asked, turning to Allen.
“Um, I'm specializing in internal medicine at Harvard--”
“Harvard!” Mrs. Cohen-Chang exclaimed. She looked at her husband, who was checking his phone. “Henry, we're having a family dinner!”
“Sorry,” Mr. Cohen-Chang said. “My boss wants the quarterly sales figures done by--” He stopped at the look she was giving him. “What?” He gestured at his son. “He's here all week!”
“It's true, Mom,” Allen said. She just shook her head.
“Allen, tell us a story. You're like that House man, right?”
“I mean, kind of . . .”
“Have you gotten to diagnose any exciting and unusual diseases lately?”
Allen looked a little uncomfortable, but he launched into a story. “Well, there was this one patient . . .”
Mike glanced at Tina, who had shrunk completely in on herself and was crushing a bread stick with the back of her spoon. He frowned and slid his arm around her shoulders.
* * *
At school the next day, Puck showed Lauren some of the baby pictures Shelby had sent him.
“Your daughter is awesome,” Lauren said, looking a particularly cute picture of Beth with a stuffed gorilla.
“Isn't she?” Puck grinned.
“Have you figured out how this open adoption thing is going to work?”
“Not yet,” Puck said. “We're thinking I might get to see her on her birthday and probably one of the Jew holidays. Shelby's going to talk to her lawyer so we can get it done officially and stuff.” He smiled broadly.
“Sweet,” Lauren said. “Just don't pass on Nana Connie's special muffin recipe to the kid on Rosh Hashanah, all right?”
“Not until she's older,” Puck agreed. “Y'know, I was a little worried about showing you these,” he said, taking the pictures back.
“Why?”
“Well, one: I wasn't sure if you were the type of person who liked kids, and two: it's kind of ridiculous what a pansy Beth turns me into.” He looked away, slightly abashed.
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Look, do I sometimes want to run small children over with my cart when they're in the way of me gettin' my collectible-Twilight-action-figurines on at Toys 'R Us? Sure. But those are random kids. This is your kid. And with you as a dad, that girl is going to be one-hundred percent, USDA choice BAMF when she grows up.”
Puck put his arm around Lauren's waist. “I love you,” he grinned.
Lauren glared at him, but in an amused sort of way. “Nevermind,” she said. “Beth is totally woobifying you.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek anyway.
A flash of white and red went by them.
“That's Quinn,” Puck said. “I've gotta--” He waved the pictures at her. Lauren nodded.
“Go.”
He took off after Quinn.
“Hey, hey Quinn!” he shouted. She slowed down enough that he finally caught up with her.
“What do you want, exactly?” Quinn asked.
“I have something to show you,” Puck said, smiling. He handed her the closed packet of pictures.
“If these are pictures of your junk, I'm telling Zizes and letting her be the one who castrates you.”
Puck made an annoyed noise. “Just open it.”
Quinn eyed the packet suspiciously, but she lifted the flap and pulled out the first picture.
“I ran into Shelby Corcoran in the park--” Puck started to say, barely able to contain his excitement, but at his words Quinn realized what she was looking at, and she jerked her head back in surprise.
“What the hell are you thinking?” she yelled in Puck's suddenly confused face. She shoved the pictures back at him.
“I just thought--”
“I don't want to see these ever again. I don't want to discuss this with you ever again. I don't want to think about this ever again. Do you understand me?” she spat at him.
Without waiting for an answer, she stalked off, leaving Puck to stand there, stunned.
* * *
In the choir room, Finn took his place at the drum set.
“This is dedicated to my beautiful, amazing girlfriend Rachel,” he said. “It's about how I see the future.”
“ I was on the outside when you said,
you said you needed me.
I was looking at myself,
I was blind, I could not see.
A boy tries hard to be a man.
His mother takes him by his hand.
If he stops to think he starts to cry.
Oh, why.
If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.
If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.”
Finn handed off his drum sticks to the jazz band drummer, and he made his way to the front of the group.
"I was on the inside
when they pulled the four walls down.
I was looking through the window,
I was lost, I am found.”
He pulled Rachel up to dance with him while he sang the last chorus.
“If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.
If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.”
As the song ended, Rachel laughed and leaned into a hug from Finn.
“You're not mad, are you?” Finn whispered in her ear.
“No,” she said. “I've been thinking about it, and there's no rule that says I can't be a Broadway star while still having a boyfriend, right?”
“Right,” Finn grinned.
* * *
Will frowned and rubbed his face with his hands. “You want to do what now?”
Artie looked at him from across his desk. “Jay-Z's '99 Problems'! It should totally be the finale. I'd kill it.”
“You mean the song about how it's hard to be a young black man in America?”
Artie furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah. I was concentrating more on the fact that, because I don't have a girlfriend, if I had 99 problems, one of them wouldn't be a--”
“I've got the gist of it, thanks,” Will sighed. “Let me think about it, all right?”
“Cool,” Artie said, and he rolled himself out the door.
* * *
Tina was lying on the stage, looking up into the lights. She had in her ear buds, and every few seconds she pressed the next button on her i-Pod to switch to a different song. Mike came and stretched out next to her.
“What's up?” he asked.
Tina hit pause and took out her ear buds. “I can't find a song to sing. What the hell am I supposed to think about being a teenager in America, anyway? This assignment is stupid.”
Mike reached over and held her hand. “It doesn't have to be that general,” Mike said. “Mr. Schue just wanted it to be about your inner-most feelings.”
“Maybe I don't want to talk about those,” Tina said, and she turned over on her side away from Mike.
“Maybe you'd feel better if you did.”
Tina sat up, and Mike followed suit. When she didn't say anything, though, Mike tried again.
“I know there's more bugging you than glee.”
Tina pulled her knees up to her chest. “He's the golden child,” she said.
“Allen?”
Tina nodded. “He's just so, so smart. When he was in elementary school, they let him skip a grade because he was so bored in class he started a Digipet daycare facility inside his desk. My parents are so proud of him they don't . . .” She faltered a little bit. “They don't have time to be proud of anyone else.”
“Pride's not a thing they have a limited amount of,” Mike pointed out.
“But how can I compete with the bright and shining doctor?” Tina said. “I want to be a social worker, for God's sake. I never had a chance with them.”
Mike grabbed her by the shoulders. “Tina Cohen-Chang,” he said firmly. “You are brave, smart, pretty, and talented. You are one of the bravest, smartest, prettiest, and most talented people I know. You don't have to compete. It's not a competition. You deserve as much love and attention from your parents as your brother does, and it's not your fault if you don't get it.”
“I know,” Tina said. “But that doesn't change the fact that I don't get it, does it?”
She said it like a statement, not a question, and Mike found that he didn't have a response to that.
Part 2
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Ensemble, emphasis on Tina, Puck, Quinn, Brittany, Finn, and Rachel, with some side Mike/Tina, Finn/Rachel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~9,700
Spoilers: Glee: Through 2.22 "New York"
Summary: Finn and Rachel think about college, Puck runs into Shelby and Beth in the park and forces Quinn to deal with her past, Brittany's sad, and we find out what it is about Tina's family dynamic that made her the type of person who would fake a stutter. Oh, and Will wants them all to bare their souls onstage. A proposal for episode 3.05.
Author's Note: This is written like it's an episode of the show, so I mostly deal with outward reactions, rather than the characters inner thoughts and feelings. Part of my Fantasy Season 3 series. And if you've been following along, no, you didn't miss any chapters. I'm doing select episodes, so I skipped from episode 2 to episode 5. However, I'm going to reference some things that happened in the interim, so make sure to read the pre-episode recap!
Episode 1: Magic Kingdom
Episode 2: What You Want
So, here's what you missed on Glee: Will got the club in trouble for making an inappropriate song choice, so he owes Figgins a favor. Tina and Mike are the most adorable couple in the history of everything, although Klaine and Samcedes give them a run for their money. Puck got Quinn pregnant and they had a baby named Beth who got adopted by Shelby Corcoran (Rachel's mother, which, I don't even want to get into that) and then promptly forgot to deal with the emotional consequences of that. Finn and Rachel got back together because he feels tethered to her, and she's stuck in Lima until she moves to New York. In Big Gay News, Brittany wants to be with Santana but Santana's not ready to come out at home, but she totally has a new naked-lady friend a couple hours away where no one knows who she is. Also, Karofsky joined Glee, which isn't really relevant, but if you're confused about why he's there, that's why.
As for the past two episodes? Uh . . . let's say everybody went to the Sing-a-Long Sound of Music, and presumably lots of hilarious and vaguely offensive things were said. The important thing is that Emma is actually doing her job now, and she's starting to have one-on-one sessions with the graduating seniors to help them figure out what they want to do after high school. So far, Tina wants to go into social justice, Rachel wants to be a star, and Finn is pretty sure that he wants to go to college, although he doesn't know what he'll do there other than keg stands.
. . . And that's what you missed, on Glee!
Past, Present, and Future Tense (3.05)
Tina and Mike managed to open the door to Tina's bedroom without having to stop kissing. Mike kicked the door shut behind them as they stumbled in.
“You are wearing way too much shirt,” Tina said, her voice husky, and Mike briefly stopped what he was doing to pull his polo over his head.
“Same to you,” he grinned mischievously, and he began to unbutton her blouse. Tina helped him as they started making out again, and soon she was down to her bra. She collapsed backwards onto the bed and pulled Mike by his belt buckle so he was on top of her.
“Are you sure your parents aren't home?” Mike asked, brushing the hair away from Tina's shoulder so he could plant a row of kisses up her neck.
Tina rolled her eyes. “Please. When are my parents ever home? Or paying attention?”
Mike pulled back and looked at her, the concern evident on his face. She propped herself up on her elbows and kissed him.
“Let's get back to what we were doing,” Tina said. Mike was about to argue when a voice called from downstairs.
“Tina? Are you home?”
“My mom!” Tina whispered frantically. In a panic, she pushed Mike off of her and he rolled off the side of the bed, his long limbs flying everywhere. Once he'd recovered his bearings, he popped back up.
“What do I do?” he asked. Tina was looking around for her shirt, but when the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs started, she dove for the blankets on her bed.
“I don't know,” she hissed. “Hide!”
Mike threw himself back down to the floor and slid under the bed just as Mrs. Cohen-Chang opened the door.
“There you are,” she said.
Tina tried desperately to control her rapid breathing. “Hi. I was just . . . napping.”
“Well, get up, dear. Allen just called, and he was able to get an earlier flight. We have to pick him up from the airport at six tonight.”
“Really? The hospital gave him extra time off?”
Mrs. Cohen-Chang shrugged. “He'll have to leave early, too, that's just the life of a resident--” She paused as she noticed Mike's polo shirt on the ground.
“Whose shirt is that?” she asked.
“Glee club,” Tina said quickly. “Glee club costume.”
“Oh, right,” her mother said absently. “Glee club. I always forget about that. Anyway, we'll be leaving in ten minutes, so if you want to come--”
“I'll be down in five,” Tina promised. Mrs. Cohen-Chang smiled again and shut the door behind her when she left.
Mike crawled out from under the bed and pushed himself to his knees.
“Allen?” he asked. “As in, your brother Allen?”
“As in, my brother Allen.” Tina smiled at him when she said it, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
* * *
Kurt took a seat next to Mike in the choir room. “Is there something wrong with Tina?” he asked, looking to where his friend sat in the front row between Mercedes and Artie.
“I'm impressed you could tell,” Mike said. “I don't think many people would be able to.”
Kurt scoffed. “Please. Simple black t-shirt and black jeans with no make-up, no lace, and no studs? It's not quite as Spartan as her post-Asian-vampire-identiy-crisis wardrobe, but it's still cause for concern.”
“Her brother's home for a week,” Mike said. “I don't know a lot about their relationship, and it seems like she's happy he's around, but there's some tension there, too.” He sighed. “She won't tell me what's going on, though.”
“Today's your day to hang out with Brittany, isn't it?” Kurt asked.
“Yeah.”
“I'll take it,” Kurt said. “I'll be fulfilling my official duty as her gay ex-boyfriend. You look after your girl, all right?”
“Thanks,” Mike smiled. He put up his hand for a fist bump. Kurt arched an eyebrow at such a blatant display of bro-dom, but he knocked their knuckles together anyway.
“Okay, guys,” Will said when the bell rang. “I've got some exciting news. We're going to be putting on a revue this week!”
“A revue?” Santana said. “Because that went so well last time.”
“I know,” Will said, “But this will be different. We'll have a captive audience.” He thought back to his conversation with Figgins.
“So, the favor is that you want us to put on a show?” Will asked.
“Yes,” Figgins said. “The school hasn't put on a musical in two years, and parents are starting to wonder where their annual arts fees are going. So, you and the children are going to put on a concert for the PTA! Isn't that exciting?”
“What exactly are we going to do?” Finn asked.
“The theme is going to be 'Through Your Children's Eyes,'” Will said. “I want everybody to choose a song that expresses your inner-most thoughts and feelings about being a teenager in America today. You can do solos, duets, group numbers, whatever.” He paused and looked at Rachel, who had become increasingly excited. “But no more than two performances per person, okay?”
Mercedes snickered. “Uh-oh. You just ruined Rachel's plans to sing a duet with every member of glee club.”
“Oh, hush,” Rachel said. “I was thinking no such thing.”
“Yeah, you forgot the five solos she wanted to sing, too,” Kurt added from the back. He and Mercedes smirked at each other while the other glee kids laughed. In sharp contrast to the way things used to be, Rachel laughed along with them.
“The other thing,” Will said, “is that I'm giving anyone who wants to the opportunity to pitch a song we can do as the closing number.”
“Have you just, like, run out of ideas?” Puck asked.
Will smiled and shook his head. “No, but for a lot of you, this is your last year of glee. I want you guys to be able to take ownership of the club and get some good leadership experience.”
“Speaking of leadership experience,” Rachel cut in, “Kurt and I would like to show you all a duet we've been working on that I think would work well for the revue.”
“We would?” Kurt asked.
“Wait, what does that have to do with leadership experience?” Finn wondered aloud to himself.
“Of course we would,” Rachel said. “The Mika?”
Kurt grinned. “Oh, yes. That would be good, wouldn't it?” He followed Rachel up to the front of the room and whispered something to the jazz band.
“Remember when they used to hate each other?” Santana asked. “That was fun. I miss that.”
Rachel ignored her. “The song we are going to perform for you today is an expression of how unique and fabulous Kurt and I are, and how we are going rub our inevitable success in the faces of every bozo in this town who ever told us we would fail.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Kurt sat down at the piano and started to play and sing. “Do I attract you? Do I repulse you, with my queasy smile?”
Rachel took the next line. “Am I too dirty? Am I too flirty? Do I like what you like?”
“I could be wholesome, I could be loathsome, 'guess I'm a little bit shy.”
“Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me, without makin' me try?”
“I tried to be like Grace Kelly,” Rachel sang, and Kurt took the back-up part. “But all her looks were too sad.”
“So I tried a little Freddy,” Kurt sang, growling the name. “I've gone identity mad!”
Rachel sang the arpeggiated line, and they harmonized the chorus.
“I could be brown,
I could be blue,
I could be violet sky.
I could be hurtful,
I could be purple,
I could be anything you like.
Gotta be green,
Gotta be mean,
Gotta be everything more.
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you walk out the door?”
They switched the order of the parts on the second verse.
“How can I help it? How can I help it? How can I help what you think?” Rachel sang, boosting herself to sit on the piano lid.
“Hello my baby, hello my baby, putting my life on the brink,” Kurt sang after.
“Why don't you like me? Why don't you like me? Why don't you like yourself?”
“Should I bend over? Should I look older, just to be put on your shelf?”
“I tried to be like Grace Kelly.” Kurt took those lines this time. “But all her looks were too sad.”
“So I tried a little Freddy,” Rachel belted. “I've gone identity mad!”
They sang the chorus again, and as they hit the bridge, Kurt kicked the piano bench back behind him and started playing standing up.
“Say what you want to satisfy yourself,” he sang. Rachel joined him on the next line. “But you only want what everybody else says you should want. You want . . .”
“I could be brown,
I could be blue,
I could be violet sky.
I could be hurtful,
I could be purple,
I could be anything you like.
Gotta be green,
Gotta be mean,
Gotta be everything more.
Why don't you like me?
Why don't you like me?
Walk out the door!”
They sweetly sang the last “oooh” in unison, and then the song was over. The rest of the glee club applauded and cat called.
“Very nice,” Will said. “You might want to be . . . slightly more diplomatic in your intro, but this is exactly the type of emotional truth I want to see.”
* * *
Lauren walked into Will's office. “I have a proposition,” she said.
“Great,” Will replied. “Let's hear it!”
“We do 'Killer Queen' as the closing number,” Lauren said, “and the guys carry me in on one of those bed things like I'm Cleopatra while the girls fan me with palm fronds.”
Will just looked at her. “. . . And this has what to do with life as an American teenager, again?”
Lauren shrugged. “You said to express our true feelings. My true feelings are that people should worship me like a deity.”
“Um, thanks, Lauren,” Will said. “I'll . . . consider it.”
* * *
Puck was jogging through the park. He paused at a picnic table to catch his breath and stretch out his hamstrings. When he looked up, he saw something that made his eyes go wide.
Shelby Corcoran sat on a park bench not fifty yards away from him, and she was waving a stuffed animal at a little girl in a stroller.
He immediately raced toward them. Shelby looked up in alarm, but her face relaxed when she realized who it was.
“Oh,” she said as he stopped beside them, “Noah Puckerman. I didn't recognize you with the--” She made a vague waving motion over her head to indicate the mohawk.
He didn't really acknowledge her presence; he was too focused on the girl in the stroller.
“Is that--?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Beth.”
Puck knelt down next to his daughter. “Beth,” he whispered. He started to reach a hand toward her but stopped himself. “Is it-- I mean, can I . . .?”
“You can hold her hand, sure,” Shelby said.
“Hey there,” Puck said softly, grabbing Beth's hand. Beth seemed a little confused, but she allowed him to touch her.
“She's gotten so big . . .” Puck murmured, putting one hand over his mouth as he tried to keep his composure.
“We were just coming back from a check-up,” Shelby said. “Her pediatrician is in Lima. She started getting fussy in the car, so I thought I'd take her for a little walk before we went home.”
“A check-up?” Puck asked, suddenly concerned. “What's wrong with her?”
“Nothing,” Shelby smiled. “Just a routine visit. To make sure everything's fine.”
Puck let out a sigh of relief. “Good,” he said. He picked up the stuffed bear and held it in front of Beth's face. “You want to play with your friend?” he asked, his voice sounding suspiciously similar to baby-talk.
“Barbra,” Shelby said. “The bear's name is Barbra.”
“Of course it is,” Puck said. When Beth stretched out her arms for the bear, he let her take it.
“You miss her, don't you?” Shelby remarked.
“Every day.”
“You weren't the one who wanted to give her up.”
Puck raised himself off the ground and onto the bench next to Shelby. “No. Definitely not my choice.”
Shelby studied him. “Have you ever heard of an open adoption?” she asked. Puck shook his head.
“It's where the birth parents give up their legal rights, but they're still allowed some contact with the child. Some people only ever send pictures or letters. Some people get to see their kid a few times a year. It's different for everyone, but . . .”
Puck frowned. “Are you saying that was an option?”
“I'm saying it's an option now. Look, Noah, I know how hard it is to give up a child, and it can be so, so difficult to get past the guilt and pain that comes with it when that child is grown up . . .”
“Is that why you dropped Rachel like a leper with the Ebola virus?” Puck asked. Shelby glared at him, but her expression softened when she realized there was no malice in his words, only a poorly worded truth.
“It was too hard for me,” she admitted. “I can see how much you love Beth. I don't want it to ever be that hard for you.” She pulled her phone out of her purse. “Give me your e-mail address. I can send you some pictures, and we can go from there?”
“Yeah,” Puck grinned. “Yeah, I'd like that a lot.”
* * *
Finn sat on Rachel's bed looking slightly overwhelmed. “You're . . . really prepared,” he managed to say.
Rachel stood in front of him with a white board set up on an easel; the board was divided into a “Finn” half and a “Rachel” half.
“Your future is important, Finn! And after you told me about your session with Ms. Pillsbury, I though you might need a little help deciding what to do with it. This'll be fun! It's like one of those Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books, except you have to live with your decisions for the rest of your life!”
Finn just kept staring at the white board. “Where did you get one of those, anyway? Did you steal it from school?”
She shot him a look. “You can buy them in stores, sweetie. Anyway, since you don't know what you want to study yet, I've written down a bunch of schools in Ohio with relatively low tuition rates and plentiful scholarship opportunities, and . . .” she pulled a stack of pamphlets out from behind her back, “we can look through their recruitment materials together to see which option might work best for you!”
Rachel sat down next to him and handed him the brochures.
“That's great, Rachel,” Finn said, “but what about your side of the board?” Her list was much less detailed than his, and only included three schools: NYU, Julliard, and Columbia.
“Oh, don't worry about that,” she said. “That's for my own personal edification.”
“I don't know what that word means, but why are all of my schools in Ohio and all of your schools in New York?”
“You knew Julliard was in New York?” Rachel asked, clearly touched.
“I do listen when you talk sometimes,” Finn said. “You didn't answer my question.”
“Well, there are lots of reasons,” she said. “Out-of-state tuition is more expensive, plus the increased cost of living in New York, the schools are highly competitive and . . .” She paused. “Mostly, I didn't think you'd want to leave Ohio.”
“I don't know for sure,” Finn admitted. “But,” he put down the pamphlets and took her hands, “I think it's worth looking into. Like, I did some Google-fu, and there's Manhattan College, or Long Island University has a campus in Brooklyn--”
“Brooklyn's farther from Manhattan than you'd think,” Rachel said.
“I'm just saying. I'd be willing to come out there.” He smiled. “I liked New York. New York is a cool place.”
“Yeah,” Rachel said, forcing a smile, “New York is a cool place.”
* * *
“It's not that I don't love your friends,” Blaine said as they waited for their coffee. “Because I do. But . . . why is Brittany with us on our Tri-Weekly After-School Coffee Date?”
Kurt looked over at their table, where Brittany seemed to be building a small fort out of sugar packets and stir sticks.
“She and Santana aren't speaking to each other right now,” he said. “I think they had a fight about . . . you know . . .”
“Right,” Blaine said.
“And this is the longest they've ever gone without hanging out together. It's making Brittany sad.” Kurt sighed. “So we've all been trying to spend some time with her, keep her occupied . . . It was Mike's turn today, but Tina needed him, so I took over.” He paused. “I hope that's all right.”
“Of course it is,” Blaine said. Their drinks were put on the counter. Blaine picked up his coffee while Kurt grabbed his own and a monstrous pink concoction with whipped cream on top that had to be Brittany's. “That's one of the things I love about you, you know. Your kindness.”
Kurt snorted. “Remind me to tell you about the Rachel-catsuit atrocity. You won't think me so kind then.” They reached their table and sat down. Kurt handed Brittany her drink.
“Thanks,” Brittany said. She immediately took the top off of it and started skimming the whipped cream off with her straw. Then she licked the straw clean.
It might have been seductive if she had been in other company, but the two boys in front of her just exchanged glances.
“Brittany, is there something wrong?” Blaine asked. “I mean, is there anything we can do to help?”
“You are such a fixer,” Kurt muttered affectionately. Brittany just shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Time just needs to move faster.” She looked at Blaine carefully. “Unless you're really Superman and you can fly around the Earth a bunch to speed up time? That would help. But I don't think you're Superman. You have the hair, but you're way too short.”
At Blaine's slightly offended look, Kurt took over the conversation. “Britt-Britt,” he said seriously. “We know you're hurting; we can see it. Isn't there anything we can do to make you feel better?”
“Well, there are two of you . . .” Brittany mused. Realizing her train of thought, Kurt plowed on.
“What about a song?” he suggested. “A song you can do at the show. We'll help you find a song the conveys your innermost feelings about . . . the situation you're in, and you can get out your emotions like that.” He looked over at Blaine, who nodded his approval.
“Okay,” Brittany said, “but I think I like my idea better.”
Kurt shook his head and patted her hand. “Oh, sweetie, no. Just . . . no.”
* * *
Mike sat awkwardly next to Tina at a table in Breadstix. The rest of the Cohen-Chang family was there, too, including Allen.
“God, I haven't been to this place in years,” Allen remarked, taking in the décor. “I don't think it's changed a bit.”
“The bread sticks have gotten worse,” Mr. Cohen-Chang grumbled, and he broke one in half. “They used to be soft and chewy. What happened?”
Tina was still sitting tensely next to him, so Mike squeezed her knee under the table and whispered, “Santana happened,” in her ear. They both giggled a bit.
“So, Mike,” Allen said, “how did you meet my sister?”
“We're in glee club together,” Mike answered.
“He's the most amazing dancer we have,” Tina added, grinning at her boyfriend. “He did this number at Sectionals last year--”
“Tina,” Mrs. Cohen-Chang admonished, “Allen's having his first day off in six months. He doesn't want to hear about that silly little hobby you have.”
“Mom, it's really okay--” Allen started, but she cut him off.
“He's in his second year of residency,” she told Mike. “Graduated top of his class at Johns Hopkins. Johns Hopkins! I always thought it was 'John Hopkins University' before he got in!”
“That's very impressive,” Mike said. Allen shot him an embarrassed look, like he was sorry about his mother going on about it.
“And what is it you're doing now, dear?” Mrs. Cohen-Chang asked, turning to Allen.
“Um, I'm specializing in internal medicine at Harvard--”
“Harvard!” Mrs. Cohen-Chang exclaimed. She looked at her husband, who was checking his phone. “Henry, we're having a family dinner!”
“Sorry,” Mr. Cohen-Chang said. “My boss wants the quarterly sales figures done by--” He stopped at the look she was giving him. “What?” He gestured at his son. “He's here all week!”
“It's true, Mom,” Allen said. She just shook her head.
“Allen, tell us a story. You're like that House man, right?”
“I mean, kind of . . .”
“Have you gotten to diagnose any exciting and unusual diseases lately?”
Allen looked a little uncomfortable, but he launched into a story. “Well, there was this one patient . . .”
Mike glanced at Tina, who had shrunk completely in on herself and was crushing a bread stick with the back of her spoon. He frowned and slid his arm around her shoulders.
* * *
At school the next day, Puck showed Lauren some of the baby pictures Shelby had sent him.
“Your daughter is awesome,” Lauren said, looking a particularly cute picture of Beth with a stuffed gorilla.
“Isn't she?” Puck grinned.
“Have you figured out how this open adoption thing is going to work?”
“Not yet,” Puck said. “We're thinking I might get to see her on her birthday and probably one of the Jew holidays. Shelby's going to talk to her lawyer so we can get it done officially and stuff.” He smiled broadly.
“Sweet,” Lauren said. “Just don't pass on Nana Connie's special muffin recipe to the kid on Rosh Hashanah, all right?”
“Not until she's older,” Puck agreed. “Y'know, I was a little worried about showing you these,” he said, taking the pictures back.
“Why?”
“Well, one: I wasn't sure if you were the type of person who liked kids, and two: it's kind of ridiculous what a pansy Beth turns me into.” He looked away, slightly abashed.
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Look, do I sometimes want to run small children over with my cart when they're in the way of me gettin' my collectible-Twilight-action-figurines on at Toys 'R Us? Sure. But those are random kids. This is your kid. And with you as a dad, that girl is going to be one-hundred percent, USDA choice BAMF when she grows up.”
Puck put his arm around Lauren's waist. “I love you,” he grinned.
Lauren glared at him, but in an amused sort of way. “Nevermind,” she said. “Beth is totally woobifying you.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek anyway.
A flash of white and red went by them.
“That's Quinn,” Puck said. “I've gotta--” He waved the pictures at her. Lauren nodded.
“Go.”
He took off after Quinn.
“Hey, hey Quinn!” he shouted. She slowed down enough that he finally caught up with her.
“What do you want, exactly?” Quinn asked.
“I have something to show you,” Puck said, smiling. He handed her the closed packet of pictures.
“If these are pictures of your junk, I'm telling Zizes and letting her be the one who castrates you.”
Puck made an annoyed noise. “Just open it.”
Quinn eyed the packet suspiciously, but she lifted the flap and pulled out the first picture.
“I ran into Shelby Corcoran in the park--” Puck started to say, barely able to contain his excitement, but at his words Quinn realized what she was looking at, and she jerked her head back in surprise.
“What the hell are you thinking?” she yelled in Puck's suddenly confused face. She shoved the pictures back at him.
“I just thought--”
“I don't want to see these ever again. I don't want to discuss this with you ever again. I don't want to think about this ever again. Do you understand me?” she spat at him.
Without waiting for an answer, she stalked off, leaving Puck to stand there, stunned.
* * *
In the choir room, Finn took his place at the drum set.
“This is dedicated to my beautiful, amazing girlfriend Rachel,” he said. “It's about how I see the future.”
“ I was on the outside when you said,
you said you needed me.
I was looking at myself,
I was blind, I could not see.
A boy tries hard to be a man.
His mother takes him by his hand.
If he stops to think he starts to cry.
Oh, why.
If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.
If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.”
Finn handed off his drum sticks to the jazz band drummer, and he made his way to the front of the group.
"I was on the inside
when they pulled the four walls down.
I was looking through the window,
I was lost, I am found.”
He pulled Rachel up to dance with him while he sang the last chorus.
“If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.
If you walk away, walk away,
I walk away, walk away.
I will follow.”
As the song ended, Rachel laughed and leaned into a hug from Finn.
“You're not mad, are you?” Finn whispered in her ear.
“No,” she said. “I've been thinking about it, and there's no rule that says I can't be a Broadway star while still having a boyfriend, right?”
“Right,” Finn grinned.
* * *
Will frowned and rubbed his face with his hands. “You want to do what now?”
Artie looked at him from across his desk. “Jay-Z's '99 Problems'! It should totally be the finale. I'd kill it.”
“You mean the song about how it's hard to be a young black man in America?”
Artie furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah. I was concentrating more on the fact that, because I don't have a girlfriend, if I had 99 problems, one of them wouldn't be a--”
“I've got the gist of it, thanks,” Will sighed. “Let me think about it, all right?”
“Cool,” Artie said, and he rolled himself out the door.
* * *
Tina was lying on the stage, looking up into the lights. She had in her ear buds, and every few seconds she pressed the next button on her i-Pod to switch to a different song. Mike came and stretched out next to her.
“What's up?” he asked.
Tina hit pause and took out her ear buds. “I can't find a song to sing. What the hell am I supposed to think about being a teenager in America, anyway? This assignment is stupid.”
Mike reached over and held her hand. “It doesn't have to be that general,” Mike said. “Mr. Schue just wanted it to be about your inner-most feelings.”
“Maybe I don't want to talk about those,” Tina said, and she turned over on her side away from Mike.
“Maybe you'd feel better if you did.”
Tina sat up, and Mike followed suit. When she didn't say anything, though, Mike tried again.
“I know there's more bugging you than glee.”
Tina pulled her knees up to her chest. “He's the golden child,” she said.
“Allen?”
Tina nodded. “He's just so, so smart. When he was in elementary school, they let him skip a grade because he was so bored in class he started a Digipet daycare facility inside his desk. My parents are so proud of him they don't . . .” She faltered a little bit. “They don't have time to be proud of anyone else.”
“Pride's not a thing they have a limited amount of,” Mike pointed out.
“But how can I compete with the bright and shining doctor?” Tina said. “I want to be a social worker, for God's sake. I never had a chance with them.”
Mike grabbed her by the shoulders. “Tina Cohen-Chang,” he said firmly. “You are brave, smart, pretty, and talented. You are one of the bravest, smartest, prettiest, and most talented people I know. You don't have to compete. It's not a competition. You deserve as much love and attention from your parents as your brother does, and it's not your fault if you don't get it.”
“I know,” Tina said. “But that doesn't change the fact that I don't get it, does it?”
She said it like a statement, not a question, and Mike found that he didn't have a response to that.
Part 2