Easy Come, Easy Go

Apparently Puck lived to torture himself. Because despite his better judgment, he went to her audition the next day. He had heard a couple of Vocal Adrenaline kids talking about it the night before. He found a seat at the back and sat through the first few auditions. According to the list, Adelaine was the last this time around. That should make her happy. She had once told him you either wanted to go first or last. Rachel always said the same thing.

The others were all very, very good, but he knew Adelaine was just as good, if not better than all of them. He wondered what song she was singing.

Finally it was her turn. He waited, looking forward to seeing her even if he wouldn’t admit it.

She slowly made her way onto the stage. She was moving slowly, as if every step was painful, and was wearing blackout sunglasses. Her face was deathly pale, even from here, and she didn’t look put together. Her short pink dress was wrinkled, her hair sort of limp.

Oh hell. She was hungover. Really hungover. She grabbed the microphone, seemingly not noticing the apprehensive looks the judges shared or the murmuring in the audience.

The music started and she began singing The Way We Were, a song he knew because of Rachel. Her voice was weak, and very quiet. She was wincing with every word, and her dancing was even worse than it had been when she was drunk last night. She even fell down halfway through the song.

Himself, he thought it was a miracle she managed to finish the song. By the end she had put the microphone back in its stand, and she had one hand pressed to her stomach, the other on her hand. It was, without doubt, the worst song of the day.

And Puck felt awful, despite the fact he had sworn to himself to stop caring about her. Because he knew there was no way she could get into the program now. She had probably already been crossed off the list.

~*~*~

Adelaine just wanted to get home. Her head felt like it was about to split open and she thought she might throw up. Her entire body was aching. She changed into shorts and a sweatshirt backstage, pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She kept her sunglasses on and searched around for her purse.

“It’s here.” She stumbled to a stop as her brother held her purse out to her.

“Hey Jess.” She said in a voice barely above a whisper, taking the purse from him. He was silent, staring at her, until finally she said, “What?”

“What. What? Are you really asking me that!”

“Stop yelling, Jess.” She managed. He wasn’t actually yelling, though he had raised he voice. But to her it sounded as if he was yelling at the top of his lungs.

“What the hell was that?” He demanded, not lowering his voice.

“It was my performance.” She said blandly.

“And it was the worst one I’ve seen in my life. You’re hungover!”

“So?” Adelaine turned away, basically pouting. It was pathetic.

“Our parents are out there, Laine. I convinced them to come, finally. And congratulations, you finally have their attention. And they’re pissed.”

Adelaine felt even more sick and this time it had nothing to do with alcohol. “What?” She asked, paling further.

“You heard me.”

“Oh hell. I’m screwed.”

“Yeah you are.”

She turned helplessly to Jesse. “What do I do?!”

“Don’t ask me! You’re the one who got insanely drunk last night! Told you not to go to that party!”

“I know, I know! But I had to!”

“You had to drink?” Jesse asked, crossing his arms.

“Yes!”

“Nobody has to drink.” He protested calmly.

“I did.” She said softly.

And burst into tears.

Jesse froze, then a moment later pulled his sister into his arms and let her cry. She sobbed into his chest and he just held her, ignoring the stares of the others backstage. He had wondered last night if something was wrong with her. Now he knew for sure.