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“—because I am NOT going on stage with HIM!”
“Me neither!”
“Listen to yourselves! I am ashamed of you!”
Will’s biting words did nothing to cut through the overlapping arguments swirling through the room. Artie, Brittany, Tina, Mike, and of course, the “golden couple” of New Directions - Berry and Hudson. Everyone’s relationships seemed to be in crisis at the same time, and of course, that time had to be right before regionals.
Sure, you loved competing, but you hated the process of it. Traveling to a place you didn’t know with people that always seemed to be arguing when they did, not having a clue what was happening and when, and even when you had a schedule, it was never followed, it was horrible. You’d done your best to shrink away into the seat you’d been hiding in, trying to remain as unseen as possible. Your hands balled up tight, your shoulders shrugged up to your ears, just trying to get through the fighting unnoticed. Then you could just go on stage, perform, and be done with it—
And then a hand hits your shoulder, sending the house of cards toppling down.
“Don’t—“ you instinctively swat the hand away with one of your own trembling ones. The words get caught in your throat as you turn around.
Jesse St. James. Oh shit.
The “consultant”’s face remained neutral, the only thing signifying his surprise being the brief pause before he schools himself back into rehearsed poise. “Come with me.”
Oh. He was going to kill you. You decided to not anger him any more and slinked out of the green room with him. Jesse didn’t say a word as he brought you to the empty room next door (oh shit oh shit, he’s angry enough to bring you to a private area to tear you a new one), closing the door quietly behind him.
“Sit,” was all he said, gesturing to a chair nearby, “I’ll be right back.”
With that, he left you to think about what you’d done. It was the most terrifying thirty seconds of your life, seconds that felt like hours, no, years. You flinched at the sound of the door opening again, keeping your eyes locked on the musty carpet of the event room. The longer the silence stretched, the more your face prickled with dread.
“Go on, take it.”
What? You slowly lifted your head as if trying not to spook a wild bear, only to realize he was holding a cold bottle of water. Jesse seemed confused rather than angry. “What? Just take it.”
You quickly took the water, and it was only then that Jesse could see the way your hands were vibrating. “…I’m sorry.” You forced the words out, tasting bitter and terrified.
Jesse blinked. “I didn’t bring you here to yell at you.”
“What? Then why—“
“Because I could tell you needed to get out of there.”
Your eyes fell to the floor. “I—I don’t need your pity, Jesse—“
“You think I’m nice enough for pity? Look at me.” The sternness in his voice made you look up. Jesse sighed as he saw the wideness of your eyes. “I know you have this whole thing about ‘wanting to be treated the same’ but I need you to understand something. You are different. I’m not saying this as a put down or some way to try and tell you it’s a ‘superpower’ or whatever. I’m telling you right now, neutrally, that your brain is objectively wired differently. Different inputs get different responses. That’s neither good nor bad, it’s just the truth. Look, even I was getting fed up with all of that bickering. And I’m not going to sit here and act like an expert, but I’m not a completely incompetent coach.”
“What about all those times you told us about how Vocal Adrenaline wouldn’t even—“
“There’s a difference between pushing through and being stupid.”
“I am not stupid!” The way your voice rose made Jesse step back a bit.
“You know that’s not how I meant—“
“No one ever means it ‘like that—‘”
“Listen to me.” The sharpness of his tone stopped you in your tracks. “I’m trying to help you without making a big deal of this because I know you don’t want it to be a big deal.” He did that Danny Zuko pass of his hand through his hair. “All I’m doing is giving you a place to not have to listen to Berry and Franken-teen bicker. Then you’re going to go out there on stage, perform like everyone else, and do it well. Because I know you’re capable of that.” Jesse sighed. “Look, I’m not good with encouragement, don’t expect some big gesture. I’m not making you stop and give in, I’m just giving you two minutes to pause. That’s all this is.” Another pass of his hand through his hair as he finally glanced at you. “Drink. You need to be hydrated.”
He watched you reluctantly open the bottle and take a sip. “More.” He instructed, watching you take another. He sighed and pulled a chair next to you. You could tell he was doing his best, racking his brain for any sort of constructive words. “…For what it’s worth, I’m looking at you right now, and I don’t see…whatever’s going on. You’re still the hard worker I’ve seen in rehearsals. You’re still that girl who had the time of her life at our little scrimmage, begging Schuester to schedule another one and giving us that dopey smile and wishing us luck at regionals last year.”
“You seemed pissed off by that.” You mumbled after a few seconds of silence.
“Oh, I was furious.” A snicker burst through the composed front. “We were Vocal Adrenaline, most feared show choir in all of Ohio. We heard whispers that anyone who mentioned us by name at Aural Intensity was banished, like we were ‘they who must not be named.’ And you? You had the gall to wish us luck. And smile at us, even! I was fuming for weeks.”
“What? But I was being completely serious…”
“That was the worst part! We could deal with sarcastic sportsmanship, we were the best at that! But you just…had zero fear, you were just…having fun! We weren’t here for fun, it’s show choir!”
“Is that not…what we’re here for?” You asked, completely oblivious.
“You’d think, if they weren’t all fighting like cats on meth back there. But not at Vocal Adrenaline. If anyone laughed, you were pelted with frozen water balloons as punishment.”
“…I don’t get it.” You finally said, a hint of frustration at yourself as you tried to decipher what Jesse was getting at.
“I was jealous, alright?” He almost regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, he never planned to let anyone know that Jesse St. James got jealous over anything. “I…I saw you having a good time regardless of the rivalry, regardless of who was fighting, and…I wanted to have that much fun performing.”
“I thought you loved performing…”
“I love it, but it isn’t fun.”
You weren’t sure how to respond, shifting awkwardly in your chair. Jesse seemed to want to drop the subject as soon as possible, thankfully, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of ear plugs. “Here. I’m not going to make you go back in right now, but when we have to, just take these and try to ignore the fighting.”
Jesse watched you look at the pieces of foam curiously. “…Don’t worry, they’re clean. I’m not that dumb to give someone used ear pieces. One time, a freshman at Carmel shared an ear piece with someone and got an infection so bad their ear turned black and fell off.”
Your face scrunched up in surprise and you tilted your head. “Are you serious?”
Jesse took the quicker, more invested reaction as a win. “Dead serious. We all called her ‘monophone’ for the rest of the year. We made her wear an elf ear from the wizard club.”
“Carmel has a wizard club?” Your head tilted farther.
“That’s what you got out of that?” Jesse breathed out a small laugh. He looked up to see you finally crack a smile. “…Do you want to go back in or do you want to hear a few more stories?”
“I’m curious what else you have…” You admitted.
“Alright, um…” Jesse rubbed his hands on his dress pants in thought. His lips disappeared into his mouth as he racked his brain before popping back out. “Which do you want to hear about: the time we had to dance with live alligators when Nationals was in Florida? Or do you want to hear about the time I bruised my tailbone trying to do a double flip? And went on to win my second show choir championship with a bruised tailbone, by the way.”
“Tell me about the tailbone.” An amused smile stretched across your face, one Jesse slowly replicated.