• Smooth Criminal • Sebastian Smythe-BOOK ONE✔

f o r t y - t h r e e

Blaine, Brittany, and Mike called everyone to the auditorium as they had a song and dance routine to show everyone. When they finished, everyone clapped and cheered as Mr. Schue stood, clapping. "Wow, guys, what brought this on?"

"Well, we know this year's nationals theme was 'Vintage,' so we thought we needed something old, but something with a lot of energy. So, we thought disco." Blaine grinned.

Mr. Schue nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. I don't know if I ever told you guys this, but back when I was in Glee Club, we took it all the way to nationals with the pure power of unadulterated disco." Most people gave him a blank look as he talked.

"Um, well, there's only one problem with that idea." Puck said to Mr. Schue.

"And what's that?" He asked the group, confused.

"Disco sucks!" They all replied to Mr. Schue. Marina didn't think disco was too bad, but it wasn't good for Nationals. Arabella, however, hated disco.

Everyone sat in the choir room, most people on their phones as they sat in their chairs. "Hey, Reenie?" Arabella said to the girl, curiosity in her voice.

"Yeah?" She replied, looking up.

"Do you know who did that thing this morning in Senior Commons?" Marina laughed at Arabella's question.

"Brittany and Santana."

The next time everyone was in the choir room, Marina gaped at the floor in shock. "The floor..." She turned to a just as shocked Arabella. "Bella, the floor!"

"Did someone steal our floor?" Brittany asked, confused.

"Don't worry, we'll have it back by the end of the week. In the meantime, Sue has lent us her..." He trailed off as Sue spoke.

"My very own personal, one-of-a-kind, lit-from- within, shatterproof, Plexiglas dance floor. Modelled, of course, on the dance floor immortalized by a young, musky John Travolta at the height of his potency in the legendary dansical Saturday Night Fever." Sue explained.

Rachel spoke in retaliation. "Coach Sylvester, while we applaud your proper use of the terminology, we told Mr. Shue we do not support disco in this room."

Mr. Schue put his hands up, silencing Rachel as he talked. "Ah, but some of you do. So, for this week's assignment, we are going back in time to the songs of 'Saturday Night Fever.'" He held up the album, letting everyone see the dance floor, John Travolta, and his iconic suit.

"Come on, Mr. Shue. That's, like, a record our parents listen to." Finn said to the man.

Sue spoke immediately. "That album, teen Solomon Grundy, is one of the best-selling soundtracks of all time." Blaine nodded in agreement.

"Tony Manero's story is your story. He's a guy who works at a paint store, struggling to figure out his life. And the only time he feels sure about himself is when he's performing on the dance floor. He has a dream. To get out of his old neighbourhood in Brooklyn and get to New York City. And by the end of the movie, that's what he's done. He's turned his dream into a plan." Mr. Schuester explained to everyone.

Kurt now looked up, confusion still in his eyes. "So why the dance floor?"

"Well, Porcelain, because we're going to start with a dance-off. And the winner will receive a replica of John Travolta's iconic white polyester suit, which I am having a cadre of expert Viennese tailors painstakingly reproduce." Sue explained, holding up a mini- figure of the iconic suit.

"Oh, my God, I need that suit!" Kurt exclaimed.

"I want that suit." Marina hissed.

"Oh, I bet that's worth a lot of money." Mike gasped.

"I would totally put that suit on... eBay." Puck smirked.

"So, you just want us to start dancing like Soul Train-style?" Mercedes asked as Sue put the figure down.

"Uh, no, actually, Sue and I will start us off. We actually met with Joe and Blaine beforehand. Just get up when you're ready. And everyone has to participate. Everyone, Puck. All right, hit it." Mr. Schue grinned before the music began, the pair dancing. 

Everyone danced and had fun, doing the classic dance from the film version of Saturday Night Fever. When everyone had the chance to do a move of their own, Marina did a triple flip across the dance floor. Arabella simply danced across the floor, going along with the classing dance routine.

When they finished, everyone clapped and cheered. "Okay, officially, officially, you guys are amazing." Sue nodded in agreement of Mr. Schue's words. "I was just conferring with my co-judge, and our three finalists for the suit are Santana Lopez, Mercedes Jones, and Finn Hudson." Everyone clapped for Santana and Mercedes, but everyone stood, shocked, when Finn's name came from Mr. Schue's mouth.

"What?" Finn uttered in surprise.

"Give it up." Sue grinned, beginning a round of applause for the boy.

Sue and Mr. Schue had taken Finn, Mercedes, and Santana to her office, telling them who would be the one to earn the suit. Eventually, the girls came in, Mercedes leading the song as Brittany and Santana danced and sang her backup. Everybody loved it and clapped loudly for the girls.

Mercedes took a step forward. "All right, I have an announcement to make. Contrary to current opinion, I do have a dream. See, my dream is Mariah. It's Whitney-- rest in peace. It's Aretha." Mercedes smiled widely as she spoke.

Mr. Schue gave her a confused look. "Those are people. They aren't dreams."

Mercedes sighed. "My dream is to be like them. To sing big, fat, juicy, number-one hits that inspire people. But how's that supposed to happen, even if I move to L.A.? I don't know what to do or where to go. It's scary to even think about moving all the way across the country."

Rachel gestured to herself. "Well, I mean, I'm moving to New York, Mercedes."

Mercedes laughed. "You'll have somewhere to stay. You'll... You'll have something to do. You have two parents that support you. And my dad is a dentist. He thinks my dream is unreasonable and insane. You know what, he's right. I don't know the first thing about getting a recording contract or a manager."

"The cream always rises to the top, Mercedes." The man said sympathetically.

"Yeah, I'm cream in here, Mr. Shue. But what if, out there, I'm just skim milk?" She asked weakly.