Based on Season Five...
Can Glee Clubbers win nationals and prevent Glee from disbanding...? All they gotta do is win nationals.
New Directions are back in action and taking on their biggest assignment yet: the Beatles! Prom Queen brings out the bes...
Back with Tesla, Shaynice, and Mercedes, they were sitting on the steps outside her place...
"Look, he's very nice. Nobody's saying that he's not nice." Tesla says.
"Yeah, and his impressions were really good. His Bill Cosby impression? Spot on." Shaynice says.
"His impressions of all the Cosbys were good. And I don't think a Tempestt Bledsoe impression's easy. I'm surprised he found a toehold." Said Tesla.
"All right. Well... what's the problem?" Mercedes asked, standing up and staring at them.
"Shaynice, can we just stop skating around it and talk for real? Mercedes. You're black, and he's white. Period." Tesla murmured, standing in front of Mercedes, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Girl, he's not just white. He's a blond. He's practically albino. You can see the veins in his temples." Shaynice tells her.
"If you date a white dude, you're gonna alienate all the black women you want to buy your album, and you're gonna piss off black men too."
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"The only people who will buy your record are albinos." Shaynice said.
"Well, maybe I don't care." Mercedes tells them.
"Fine. Maybe you don't, but you should." Tesla says.
Shaynice and Tesla walked away, and Mercedes just stood there, scoffing loudly.
A few minutes later, Mercedes walked into her apartment...
"Well, you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both, and there you have the facts of life." Don't know what it is about Mrs. Garrett. She just does it for me." He mumbled, sitting on the couch, putting a handful of cereal into his mouth.
"I can't do this."
"What? What do you... what do you mean?" He asked, looking over at her.
"I can't be with you. I can't date you, be your girlfriend, or whatever."
"It was dinner, wasn't it?" He asked.
"No. No."
"I knew I screwed up. No, you know... I... you know, I just... when I get nervous, I can't stop talking. And now your backup singers probably... they hate me, don't they?" He asked.
"No, they don't... they don't hate you. They like you just fine."
She stood up from the chair, walked over to the couch, and sat down beside him.
"I'm just worried what people are gonna think."
"Okay, well, then, I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. Does it have anything to do with the fact that you're black and I'm white?" He asked, staring at her.
"Think about it, Sam. How many black female artists do you see dating white dudes? I've been thinking about it all day. And I can't think of one. What white folks don't understand is that people pay attention to that kind of stuff. It's making a statement. And I'm not sure if that's the statement that I wanna make, not now."
