Chapter 11

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Pucks POV:

Tonight's the guys concert and I have to admit, I am really excited.

We ended up deciding on 7 different songs:

Don't Stop Believing

Blurred Lines

Marry Me

Everybody Talks

Let Me Love You

story of my life

Best song ever

I've gotta admit, at rehersals, we were incredible.

People better tip us for being so good.

We told people to pay when they get there, so I have no idea how many people are coming.

My phone beeps telling me that I got a text message.

From: Mercedes

125 people showed up at my concert! It was amazing! I might just do this everyday!

I smile and try to do the math.

125 times 20 dollars per ticket.

Ummm

This is when my phone comes in handy

I go on google and type in the numbers.

Holy

Fucking

Lord.

No.

Oh my god.

3000 dollars!

MERCEDES!

I call her up as quickly as I can.

"Hello?" She's answers right away.

"Mercedes! 3000 dollars! You are incredible!" I practically scream into the phone.

"I know! Only 2000 more dollars!"

"Well... I did the math, and it is more like 7000 dollars. Think about it. The taxis, the food, everything. It all adds up. We can each pay for our own flights, but then we should use the money we raise for the trip."

"Oh shit. That's a lot of money." She says, less excited.

"Yeah, but it's ok. I have my concert tonight and didn't the girls have the bake sale? How did that go??" I ask.

"Oh. Um. We raised 50 dollars."

"Eh whatever it's something."

"Yeah, but then Quinn decided she needed it more and went and bought herself nail polish."

"Typical cheerleading bitch. She's lucky she's hot." I say the last part in a whisper.

I hear Mercedes laugh and then say, "ok. I have to go. Good luck at your concert!"

"Bye." I say and hang up.

I look at my watch for the hundredth time that day. Four hours until the concert.

I call up Sam and ask him how his date with Brittany was.

My guess is they will last a while.

Both dumb blondes. What do you expect?

Finally, after waiting for what felt like forever, Sam picked up.

"Hello?" He says, sounding like he was in a hurry.

"Hey dude. What are you doing??" I ask, as I hear him cursing quietly.

"Well I'm obviously NOT getting ready already and trying to hide a pimple."

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