𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚. 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘀

hold on to sixteen

hold on to sixteen

"So, you want me to your stupid glee club?" Maisie stood dumbfounded at her locker as her dear friend, Quinn Fabray pleaded to her for what seemed like the thousandth time. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. No way in hell, am I joining a club about singing when I can't sing." She closed her locker and began walking to English.

Quinn followed behind in pursuit. "Look I know I've pitched this to a million times over the years, but we don't need singers we just need numbers."

Maisie stopped her in her tracks, turning around so she's face to face with Quinn, "Oh, so now I'm just a number to you. Huh?"

Her blonde friend rolled her eyes at her, "You know what I mean?"

In return, Maisie rolled her eyes at Quinn, "What about your whole Puck and Ms. Corcoran sleeping together. I thought you were going to tell Figgins about that."

Quinn thought for a second before saying, "I-I am, but even if the Troubletones don't have a leader that doesn't mean they won't perform. And who is to say they won't come back?" Her words seem to have no effect on Maisie. "Look, just sway in the back for the competition. That's all I ask."

"Fine." Quinn smiled at her response. "But I expect to get something out of this."

—

"This sucks." Maisie groaned as she sat next to Quinn in the choir room. "I'm already bored out of my mind." Quinn shushed her as Mr. Schuester spoke to the group. Placing red solo cups on the piano.

Kurt (Maisie only knew that because he was a fashionable gay kid, why wouldn't she like him?) spoke up, "Mr. Shue, we appreciate your endless supply of affirmations, but all the sparkling cider in the world can't deny the fact that the Titanic has hit the iceberg and now we're on a sinking ship."

"Not if I can help it." A blonde boy stepped foot in the choir room greeted by cheers. Maisie squinted trying to recognize the face. Once the name Sam got thrown out the former high school quarterback clicked in her head. Suddenly the group kicked off in a rendition of Red Solo Cup. She was pretty sure this was on the Top 10 Worst Songs of All Time List.

Once the song winded down, Maisie spoke up from where she stood beside Quinn, "This song is a fat homeless man using money to buy more beer." Maisie said in disgust thinking about meeting one of those people.

Sam turned around, "Who are you?" She personally would be offended, but since this dude just returned from like Tennessee or something she doesn't mind that much. Santana Lopez then unloaded all the insults she was thinking.

—

Maisie followed behind Quinn entering the dressing room. "No, I'm leaving." She announced.

Quinn's face twisted in confusion, "What? Why?"

"I am not wearing that!" Quinn followed her finger to the costumes for the competition. "There is no way in hell I'm wearing something that cheap and a suit jacket of all things. You know that's one of the things I hate most in the world and with the ruffles on the bottom. I'm leaving!"

Quinn grabbed her forearm, yanking her to stay in the room, "Calm down, you're not going to die."

"I might as well die than wear the horrendous thing." She screeched at the thought.

Eventually, Quinn pulled her in and forced her down in her chair long enough to no longer resist. The homeless boy then walked into the choir-room-turned-dressing-room and sat two seats away from Maisie. She sat, arms crossed, awaiting Quinn to return with the ugliest thing ever. "Maisie." She muttered.

"What?" He looked over at her.

"Maisie." She mumbled as if it was paining her to say, which it kind of was.

His face turned confused, "Huh?"

"My name is Maisie." She said in frustration and annoyance.

"Oh," His wide mouth forming an o shape, "Sam." She proceeded to ignore him and his following questioned. "When did you join?" He turned back to look in the mirror, getting the message that she didn't want to talk to him anymore.