Lila Anderson has returned for her sophomore year at McKinley High. After losing regionals, the Glee Club is officially at the bottom of the food chain, but when Lila comes back for the school year with a new look, she gets more than overlooked in t...
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"NEW Directions," Mr. Shue began, clapping his hands like this was going to be the greatest announcement in Glee Club history. "I'd like to introduce you to our new show choir consultant... Jesse St. James."
Time stopped.
No. No.Absolutely not.
The room didn't go silent—it just dropped out of focus. Everyone else blurred into the background as that name hit me like a slap across the face. I swear I could hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
I felt it first in my stomach—that sick, sharp lurch of nausea and betrayal that instantly transported me back to prom night. The music. The lights.
The humiliation. The aftermath.
I didn't even have to look at Sam to know he was feeling it too. The second Jesse stepped into the choir room like he owned the place, I felt Sam's body stiffen beside mine. We hadn't talked in days
And now we were standing side by side, silent and seething, staring at the man who'd helped tear everything down.
"I don't trust this guy," Sam snapped. "He's gonna trick us into doing something stupid so his alma mater wins."
Jesse turned to him slowly, that infuriating smirk curling across his face like he'd just been waiting for someone to take the bait. "I don't need to do much to make you do something stupid."
His voice was casual, bored almost, like we were beneath him. Like we were still those naïve amateurs he dismissed back at Regionals.
"Guys," Mr. Schue said quickly, stepping in with his calming teacher voice, like that was going to put out the fire. "Jesse is just a consultant. I still make all the calls."
Right. Because that's ever stopped Jesse from manipulating an entire room before.
"I have all the confidence in the world in you guys," Mr. Schue continued, turning toward the whiteboard. "I just think we could use all the help we can get because..."
He pointed at the word NATIONALS, scrawled across the board in giant block letters.
"This is it," he said, eyes scanning the room like this was a moment. "We've been working so hard for two years for this. And that moment is finally here."
"I was talking with Jesse," Mr. Schue said, snapping me out of my spiral, "and he agreed that we should stick with what worked—original songs. I'm thinking one group number and one duet."
"Rachel and I should sing the duet," Finn jumped in. "We killed it last year at Regionals with 'Faithfully'."
"Yeah. It killed us. We lost."
And then—of course—Jesse raised his hand. "May I?" he said, all fake politeness.
