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A/N: What's your favorite color?

Trigger warning for intense OCD symptoms.

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"Ballad."

Madison fixed her glasses to sit better on her nose and watched Mr. Schuester write the word across the whiteboard. Her high tops shifted uncomfortably every few seconds as she tried to ignore the crawling feeling up her spine.

Her head was in la-la land again. It had been a horrible night, and now she was approaching another tough day of uncontrollable ticks that responded to her surroundings: the twitching, the hand washing, the cleaning, the inability to focus on their lessons. Everything was leading up to her overnight with Santana and the potential shooting stars waiting for her wish through the atmosphere. All Madison could do was hope things settled before Santana had the chance to make fun of her the entire experience that weekend.

Madison's head shot to the left before shaking and relaxing back in its typical position. She glanced around and anxiously rolled her finger through her hands, almost as if she was washing her palms and fingers. Something didn't feel right, and Madison was unsure how much longer she could play off the increase of movement from her family and friends.

"From Middle English, Balade." Mr. Schuester continued with his lecture. He missed the way Madison's head twitched to the left, and she gripped the bottom of her chair. "Who knows what this word means?"

"It's a male duck." Brittany declared with a proud smile.

Kurt glanced at Madison as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the tingling around her body. He raised his hand and rolled his eyes when Madison quickly raised hers to add to another hand in the air.

"Kurt." Mr. Schuester called upon the first hand he saw as he turned away from Brittany.

"A ballad is a love song." Kurt said, smiling dreamily.

Quickly, Madison spoke up to add to the answer.

"But they don't always express someone's love. Ballads are stories in music that can pertain to almost any emotional journey."

"Overachiever." Kurt playfully side-eyed his friend when Mr. Schuester smiled at her.

"Yes! This is the perfect storm of self-expression. Stories and music are the way we express feelings that we can't get out any other way. Okay, not, Sectionals are in a few weeks and there's a new rule this year...we have to perform not one, but two ballads." Mr. Schuester announced, capping in emphasis.

Hearing the news, Rachel gasped in excitement.

"Looks like my weekly letter to the Ohio Show Choir Committee finally paid off!" She said, smiling widely in excitement.

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