Finn Hudson crashed the cymbals together, counting in the other members of the band to the song. His foot pounded heavily on the bassdrum that read “Don’t Blinnk” in red letters. Noah Puckerman, standing on his right, kept the song going on bass guitar, winking at the on looking members of the glee club. Mike Chang, on synthesizer, looked at his girlfriend Tina Cohen-Chang from his place on Finn’s left. She blew him a kiss with a smile.

The lead singer stood at the front of the band. His worn out jeans and Converse clad feet danced to the music as he wailed on guitar through the opening chords. His curly, dark brown hair, ever so slightly gelled to add an air of badassery, bounced along with the music. He looked up at his audience through long lashes and burning golden eyes as he started the first verse.

�

Three p.m., on my feet and staggering

�

At the last word, he staggered comically as if drunk. Though the kids laughed, their teacher, Mr. Schuester was not as amused.

Through misplaced words
And a sinking feeling, I got carried away

Sick, sick of sleeping on the floor
Another night, another score

�

As he sang the line, he looked at the pretty blonde with the blue-green eyes in the center of the room. Brittany Pierce smiled back at him as he winked at her, making her giggle.

I'm jaded, bottles breaking

You're only happy when I'm wasted
I point my finger but I just can't place it
Feels like I'm falling in love
When I'm falling to the bathroom floor

I remember how you tasted
I've had you so many times, let's face it
Feels like I'm falling in love alone

�

The curly haired boy pointed to the blonde again, making her and her Latina best friend, Santana, squeal.

Stella, would you take me home?
Stella, would you take me home?

Puck took a step forward; ready to sing the next verse.

2 a.m., I'm on a blackout binge again
You know I don't need sleep
And I lost my keys, but I got so many friends

His fellow band members shouted to him in agreement.

And they keep, keep me coming back for more

�

The lead guitarist pulled him in for a quick side hug, singing the back up vocals into a shared microphone.

Another night, another score
I'm faded, bottles breaking

I remember how you tasted
I've had you so many times, let's face it
Feels like I'm falling in love alone
Stella, would you take me home?

�

The lead singer jumped back to his mic, taking hold of the song once more.

One more reason, I should never have met you
Just another reason I could never forget you
Down we go

�

Dramatically, he spun to the ground, picking himself up just in time to sing the next line.

The room's spinning out of control

You're only happy when I'm wasted
I point my finger but I just can't place it
Feels like I'm falling in love
When I'm falling to the bathroom floor

I remember how you tasted
I've had you so many times, let's face it

Stella, would you take me home?

�

The room burst into applause as the band took a bow.

“Very, uh, nice guys,” Mr. Schue, said at the class calmed down. “But can you please try to play something that is school appropriate?”

“Mr. Schue, that song rocked,” Puck argued. “And Don’t Blinnk is good!”

“I’m not saying that your band or the song wasn’t good, but a song about partying and blacking out isn’t something that you should be singing here. Save it for your concerts, yeah?”

“Uh, which is in two weeks, just so you guys know,” Finn added to the class. “So you should totally come and support us.”

“It’s gonna fucking rock!”

“Blaine Anderson, watch your mouth in my classroom,” his teacher warned. “Class is dismissed for the day everyone, remember to start thinking about our Sectionals numbers, guys! It’s only a few weeks away!”

As the class began to file out, Blaine hung back to pack up his equipment.

“Yo, Anderson,” Puck called. Blaine looked up from his guitar case at his best friend, “Remember that practice is at my house tonight at seven o’ clock. Wanna come over until then and play Gears of War 3? I’ll have my mom make us mini pizzas.”

“No, I have to go home and clean my room before my dad beats the piss out of me again. But I’ll meet you there at seven, okay? And can you take my guitar? I’ve got my bike today.”

“Sure thing, dude. Later.”

Blaine grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair and made to leave the room. Suddenly, Brittany materialized in front of him. She instantly attached her lips to Blaine’s, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Blaine responded numbly, kissing her back and pushing her lightly into the piano behind her. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a sigh before pulling away.

“That was hot.” She said purred.

“The kiss or the song?” Blaine asked, his arms still around her waist.

“Well, both. But I was talking about the song.”

“Thanks, babe.” He said hollowly.

Brittany leaned in again, kissing him more softly this time, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Blaine pulled on his leather jacket, headed out of the classroom, and down the hall to his locker. He put away the books he didn’t need for the night and slammed it shut, leaving the building. There were few car left in the parking lot as Blaine headed to the far end.

Suddenly from behind a large pickup truck, two blonde blurs sped out in front of him. Before Blaine had a chance to avoid it, two red slushies rained down on him. Wiping the freezing drink out of his eyes, Blaine looked up at his attackers.

“Thought we forgot about you today, Anderson?” Jeremy Bubb taunted, an empty cup in his hand.

“But don’t worry, we could never forget about you,” his twin brother James added. “You’re our favorite customer!”

“Tag team slushie facial!” They said together, giving Blaine a shove and retreating across the parking lot.

Blaine did his best to wipe himself off with dignity, removing most of the red ice.

God damned Beelzebubs, He though to himself. See, after the Bubbs attack on him when he was younger, his father had taken to calling the twins the “Beelzebubs” or “Minions of Satan”. Personally, Blaine thought it was a very fitting name.

At the far end of the parking lot, Blaine spotted his ride, a black ninja motorcycle. It had been a present from his father for his sixteenth birthday; one of the few advantages of having a hard working dad.

He threw on his matching black helmet and kick started the engine. God how he loved the sensation of his bike coming to life beneath him. Blaine turned out of the parking lot and took off down the road toward his house. The fall air cut through his leather jacket, making his arms and chest cold, not that he cared. Blaine loved the feeling of the cool wind against him. It made him feel alive. He could be anyone on his bike. No one could see his face. He could be the middle aged man going through a midlife crisis or the misguided teen who had fallen off the tracks one too many times. After fifteen minutes or so, Blaine pulled into the empty driveway at the Anderson homestead. Hopping off the bike, he pulled it through the door and rested against the wall in its place next to his father’s empty parking space. He entered the painfully quiet house, shutting the door with a deafening bang!

This house was much smaller than the first house they had owned in Lima. After Blaine’s mom had left them, his father had decided to downsize. With his father away on business most of the time and his mother gone for almost five years now he had the house to himself a lot. He supposed that having a smaller house wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; a smaller house meant less empty spaces to fill by himself.

Blaine climbed up the stairs to his bedroom at the end of the hall. Once in his room, he hung up his jacket in the closet behind the door. Despite what he had told Puck about his room, it was actually spotless. He had always kept his room tidy. It was the only place that he could let his guard down.

He plopped down on his bed, reaching over to turn on his stereo. Katy Perry’s newest song filled his ears. Of course it was Katy Perry. Though he would never admit to it, he loved that sort of music. He liked Michael Bubl� and the Goo Goo Dolls, but it was “uncool” for guys to like that sort of thing. So at school he said he tolerated Katy Perry because she had great tits and Brit liked her and he said that Michael Bubl� was only for girls and queers.

Being gay at McKinley was simply not an accepted thing. Luckily for him, he wasn’t gay nor did he know anyone who was. Brittany was his girlfriend. She was a hot, blonde cheerleader, for fuck’s sake! Blaine had gotten lucky. After joining the soccer team his sophomore year of high school and leading the team to their first state victory in ten years, the bullying lessened for a while and the girls suddenly found him desirable. Although, after joining the glee club late last year, the bullying had started to pick back up again, but he could live with it if it gave him an excuse to sing. And sure, Brit was a bit slow… okay, she had the intelligence of a doorknob, but she was what every boy could hope for.

“Yo, asshole, the Puckinator is callin’ you! Pick up the phone!” rang his phone.

I have got to change that ringtone, he thought to himself.

“Hey, Puck,” he sighed.

“Dude, are you done yet?”

“What?”

“With your room, is it cleaned?”

“Oh, right. My room. Yeah, it’s alright.”

“Good, now get your ass over here. I need help setting up for tonight.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll be over in a bit.”

“Cool.” Puck hung up without saying goodbye.

Blaine signed again and crawled off his bed. He grabbed his coat from the closet and turned off the light, heading for the door.

The sun had fallen behind the trees, cooling the air quickly. Blaine decided to take his car instead of the motorcycle.

Pushing the garage door opener button, Blaine stepped into the low riding, black Lamborghini, another perk of a hardworking father. He pulled easily out of the garage and down the street. Blaine loved his Lamborghini, the way it purred around him, almost as much as his bike and loved rubbing it in Puck’s face even more.

�

That night at practice, the boys didn’t get too much work done for their upcoming concert. The focus was on Sectionals. Puck, Mike, and Blaine sat on a worn out couch in the Puckerman’s garage surrounded by band equipment watching as Finn nervously paced back and forth in front of them.

“Finn, if you don’t stop, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor.” Blaine said.

“I just- I’m worried,” Finn stumbled over his words, “We have to make it to Nationals this year. We’re good enough!”

“Then I don’t know why you’re so worried.” Puck said, leaning back onto the couch with his hands behind his head.

“Because, this is important!” he snapped, turning to face them, “Don’t you get it? If we can prove to the school that we’re good enough to win at Nationals, then nothing can stop us. We’ll be the at the top of the school!”

“Hey,” Puck warned, “Between my badassery and his win at the state championships, Anderson and I already got that.”

“This is serious, Puck. We don’t have anything for Sectionals and we have no idea what we’re up against this year.”

“I’m with Finn,” Mike piped in, “I think we really need to work on this. We don’t want a repeat of what happened last year with the Haverhurst School for the Deaf and those girl from Jane Adams.”

“What happened with them?” Blaine asked.

“Oh yeah, I always forget you joined late and weren’t in glee yet.” Mike smiled, patting Blaine on the back, “See, last year someone leaked our set list to our competitors and they stole all our songs out from under us. We were forced to change our entire routine on the spot.”

“But you won, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, only by default because the coach of Jane Adams turned herself in and come on, really? A deaf school in a singing contest?”

“But we won’t have that this year.” Finn added, “We’re gonna need to be on our best game to beat these guys.”

“Who are our opponents, Finn?” Mike asked.

Finn pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. As co-captain of the glee club, Mr. Schue had given Finn a list of the other teams. “Let’s see, there’s the Perry High’s Hell’s Angels. From what I’ve seen at football games, it’s a rough part of town. And the other is the Dalton Academy Warblers, an all boy’s acapella group.”

“Dalton Academy?” Blaine scoffed.

“Yeah,” Finn shrugged. “It’s an all guy’s boarding school.”

“All boy’s boarding school? Gross. Too many dicks, not enough chicks.” Puck laughed, turning to give Blaine a high five.

“Puck, can’t you take anything seriously?” Mike scolded. “This is important. We need to figure out a fool proof plan to beat these guys!”

Puck leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, finally caving into the conversation. “Why don’t we just go and spy on the other teams and see what they’re planning? Find out their strengths and weaknesses and then work from there?”

“Puck, isn’t that cheating?” Blaine pointed out.

“I like to think of it as ‘creative strategy’.”

“Look,” Finn sighed. “Why don’t we call it a night and regroup tomorrow or something? We can talk about this with the rest of the glee club.”

They nodded, breaking their formation to clean up from rehearsal. Blaine snapped his guitar case closed with a sigh. How were they going to beat these other teams? It was his first competition with the New Directions and he wanted to be an asset to them, making sure that they won. But how?

“Anderson.”

Blaine rolled his eyes, turning around to answer Puck, “What do you want, Puckerman?”

“Look, without finding out how strong our competition is, we’re going to loose.”

“That’s the spirit!” Blaine said sarcastically.

“Come on, Blaine,” Puck pleaded, “Rock, paper, scissors. One round. Loser spies on the boy’s school.”

Blaine sighed, offering his hand. Puck’s face split into a grin, presenting his fist.

“Rock, paper, scissor, shoot!”

Blaine looked down at their hands having thrown rock, expecting Puck to pull the typical scissors. Puck’s hand stretched out flat.

Paper.

“Fuck. You’re lucky I like you.” Blaine growled.

“Whoa, no going queer on me now, dude. You haven’t even gotten to the school yet.”

�