best: #1 on glee, #1 on #quinnfabray, #2 on diannaagron #3 on #samevans, #4 on #puck
met·a·noi·a
/ˌmedəˈnoiə/
(n.) change in one's way of life resulting from penitence or spiritual conversion.
"what he demanded of people was metanoia, repentance, a...
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walking through the halls, i do not expect rachel to appear beside me. "oh, hey rachel-" she cuts me off.
"ok ivy i need your help with something. quinn and santana want me to convince mr. schue to hire this really good choreographer that works for vocal adrenaline and i know that you are good friends with them so what should i do? i don't want to be mean but mr. schue-" i interrupt her before she can keep ranting. "woah woah woah! slow down. ok, it would help our chances if we had someone who taught vocal adrenaline, but do we really need him? i think we'll be fine without him." she slows down.
"but what if we're not?" she says. i squeeze her shoulders. "we have you. we'll be just fine." she smiles. "thanks for your help!" she turns and walks away. i wonder why quinn and santana asked rachel to do that. they've been acting pretty suspicious lately.
we're learning choreography when rachel asks to stop. we all know what's coming, some complaining. ok, i love rachel and she's super talented, but sometimes she needs to just shut up and let things go. "you don't have to ask me every time for permission to go to the bathroom, rachel. you can just go." mr. schue says, obviously tired of her antics. "it's not my bladder. it's the choreography." all of us look at each other. "okay, what's wrong with the choreography?" mr. schue asks, definitely confused like the rest of us. the choreography really isn't bad. "it sucks." rachel says plainly.
i see quinn and santana smirking. i make eye contact with quinn and give her a look that says "what are you planning?" and she ignores it. there's something going on, i know it. "we can't compete with vocal adrenaline with these steps. you're a great vocal coach, mr. schue. but you're not a a trained choreographer. that's what we need to be the best. we need dakota stanley." so she listened to quinn after all. "is it just me or does this seem like a terrible idea?" kurt whispers to me. "it's not just you. i have a bad feeling about this." i whisper back. apparently this guy also was a understudy on broadway. "just because he understudied doesn't mean he ever performed." mr. schue says bitterly. "did you ever perform, mr. schuester? after high school. did you even try?" i don't understand quinn is acting like this. mr. schue seems to be taken back by what just happened. and honestly, so am i.
weeks go by, and mr. schue basically gives up on us. he barely comes to rehearsals and when he does, he seems like he's on another planet. he's apart of a band (if you could even call it that), called acafellas. we told rachel to go convince mr. schue to come back and when she returns, she still has a whole plate of her cookies and no mr. schue. "he's not coming." she says sadly. "what? what happened?" i ask, and she explains how he wants us to hire dakota. "of course he doesn't want anything to do with us after you kicked him in the nads." finn says, and i shrug. "you were a little harsh rachel." i add on. "then why did he thank me?" she says, and i sigh.
