―

―

HUNTER LET OUT A sigh as he shoved his textbooks back into his locker, jumping when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind him.

"Hi." Katie grinned, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Don't scare me like that," Hunter chuckled, closing his locker and turning to face the freshman, "You're tall, I might end up hitting you."

"Why would you hit me?" Katie laughed.

"Because when I'm scared, I flail like Davy Jones' tentacles." Hunter told the girl, waving his arms in example.

Katie giggled as they started to make their way to the cafeteria for lunch, "You're an idiot."

Hunter cracked a smile, wrapping his arm around Katie's shoulder, "Thank you."

The pair continued to laugh as they made their way to lunch, when Brittany ran up to them.

"Finn!" The cheerleader called out.

"Britt," Hunter raised an eyebrow, both him and Katie stopping to talk to the girl, "Do I look like I have a letterman jacket?"

"Oh," Brittany realised, "Anyway you need to come to the auditorium. It's bad."

―

Hunter stood next to Puck, both of them standing with their arms crossed, glaring at the people who had invaded their stage. Their heads turned when Rachel entered the auditorium, followed by Mercedes, Artie, Kurt and Tina, the former's face dropping as she saw the guy who was supposed to be her boyfriend onstage with Vocal Adrenaline.

"Jesse?" Rachel asked in disbelief, "What are you doing up there with them?"

"I've transferred back to Carmel High, Rachel," Jesse said in his regular eagerly calm, yet dramatic tone, "I'm sorry that it's come to this, but you guys were awful to me. You never accepted me, you never listened to my clearly superior ideas."

Finn took a step forward, "Why are you here in our auditorium?"

"The blogs and the chat rooms say that we're finished, and that you guys are ripe to topple us. We just wanted to show you a something we came up with a few days ago to see if you agree with that assessment." Jesse said, before he and his posse got into position.

[ another one bites the dust, performed by jesse with vocal adrenaline ]

The girl tucked under Jesse's arm giggled, "Thanks for letting us borrow your auditorium, guys. It's quaint." She taunted, before Vocal Adrenaline sauntered off of the stage, Jesse trailing behind after watching Rachel's heartbroken face for a few moments.

―

A newly depressed Glee club walked slowly back to the choir room.

"It's a Carmel High tradition," Artie told his teammates, "They psych out the competition a few weeks before the big show. They call it a funkification. Meaning they show us what they've got, and we spiral into a deep black funk."

"Yeah. Yeah, we used to do the same thing to other football teams," Finn nodded, "You know, try and get inside their head before a big game, pull little pranks to intimidate them."

"Yeah, well, the difference was our football team sucked. Those guys are golden." Puck said.

"Come on, keep your heads up, guys. It's going to take more than that to get us into a-" Kurt cut himself off as the club entered the choir room, seeing that it had been T.P-ed, "...Funk."

―

"Jeez, it's like all the dead Pharaohs of ancient Egypt stripped naked in here." Hunter muttered, stuffing a large clump of toilet paper into the trash.

"I feel so violated," Tina frowned, "It's like someone broke into our home."

Mr. Schuester sighed, "Look, it was just a lame little prank. And the fact that they're trying to get to us means maybe we got them spooked."

"Uh-uh, Mr. Shue," Mercedes dismissed, "They aren't afraid of anything. That number they did was fantastic. You know, which doesn't make any sense. They had all that equipment. How did they even get in?"

"I gave 'em all keys."

Everyone's head turned to see Coach Sylvester sauntering into the choir room.

Quinn and Hunter shared an eye roll, accompanied with a heavy sigh.

"Helped them do a sound check over the weekend," Sue continued, "Hey, this way, fellas. Let's punch out this wall here. That'll open up the space a little bit." She directed some students, who were carrying trophies behind her.

"Sue, what are you doing?" Mr. Schue asked, aggravated.

"I can't talk to you now, William," Coach Sylvester waved him off, "Drafting class is helping me redecorate around here. You see, I have Nationals over the weekend, and I expect to return with a comically large first place trophy for which I have absolutely no room in my trophy case. As soon as you hurry up and lose at Regionals, this choir room will become my official trophy annex," The woman smirked, "You know what it has to look like? Elvis' gold record room at Graceland. Except I'll be wanting far fewer morbidly obese white women waddling around and crying."

"Sue, get out of my room." Mr. Schue told her through gritted teeth.

"Glee Clubbers, for you those of you whose hearing has not been damaged by massive doses of Accutane, listen up," Sue turned to the students, "In a few weeks, Glee Club will be finished. Now how do I know that? Well, I recently checked the odds with my Vegas bookie, who told me that you're 40-1 underdogs at Regionals. You are going to lose, and your dreams will be crushed."

"Sue, can I see your trophy?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"Sure, Will," Sue handed it to him, "Hope and dream."

Mr. Schuester walked past her, before throwing the trophy against the wall, making the students gasp, Coach Sylvester flinching ever so slightly.

"You dropped your trophy, Sue." Mr, Schuester said.

"You know, for me, trophies are like herpes," Sue said, turning to face the Spanish teacher, "You can try to get rid of them, but they just keep coming. You know why? Sue Sylvester has hourly flare-ups of burning, itchy, highly contagious talent. Enjoy your last few days here. This room is mine." The woman glared, before leaving the choir room, the drafting class trailing behind her."

"Great morale we have here." Hunter muttered, chucking some more toilet paper into the trash with a huff.

―

"I'm really sorry, Hunter." Elizabeth frowned.

The boy shook his head with a small smile, taking his mother's hand in his own, "There's nothing to be sorry about, Mom." He told her.

"I know," The woman hummed, "I just wish I could be there."

"I'll make sure Dad videos it, I promise." Hunter said, gently moving a piece of hair away from her face that had gotten caught in a tube.

"Oh, he better," Elizabeth nodded, "Or he'll have another thing coming."

"I believe that." Hunter laughed.

"Now, have you finally finished your drawing?" Elizabeth asked, "I've been really looking forward to seeing it."

"I-I have actually," Hunter nodded, unzipping his backpack and pulling out his sketchbook, "I really hope you like it."

"I have no doubt that I'll love it," Elizabeth grinned, gently taking the thick sketchbook out of his hand, pausing when she saw the piece of artwork on the paper, "Oh, Hunter." She whispered in shock.

"I found an old picture in Grammy's photo album," Hunter told her, "Do you like it?"

"Oh, I absolutely love it." The mother smiled, tearing up and placing a hand on the side of her son's face.

Hunter leaned into the warmth of her hand, lightly kissing the palm of it, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Hunter," Elizabeth smiled, "Now, tell me about what you've got planned for this weekend with Katie."

―

Hunter chuckled as Santana - who was lying across three chairs, her head on the boy's lap - raised her arms, poking his cheeks.

"What're you doing?" The boy chuckled.

"What?" Santana shrugged as the bell rang, "You have chubby cheeks."

Mr. Schuester then swung open the door, entering the choir room and halting all conversations as he clapped his hands together, "Alright, guys, today I want to talk to you about regrets. Who has some?"

"Giving my heart to Jessie, just to have it crushed like the stage floor at a performance of Stomp." Rachel frowned from where she was slumped at the piano.

"Thinking 'trust me' was a sensible birth control option." Quinn hummed.

"We all have them. I just finalized my divorce," Mr, Schuester revealed, "I regret living in a relationship that wasn't working. Letting her put me in these deep funks and not fighting back."

Santana raised an eyebrow, "Besides creeping us out, why are you telling us this?"

"Because if we lose to Vocal Adrenaline at Regionals, none of us are going to regret it," Mr. Schue said, "We will have given it our best shot and we won't look back. But we will regret letting them get the best of us before the competition. Which is why we need to hit them back just like they hit us."

"So, you want us to T.P. their choir room?" Quinn wondered.

"Whatever the better, cooler version of that is. Like, uh, maybe-maybe we should steal their school statue." Mr, Schuester suggested.

"Their school statue is a giant bronze of a great white shark eating a seal pup," Kurt said, "It weighs three tons."

"Well, nothing else screams school spirit like the food chain of the sea." Hunter shrugged as Mr. Schue continued to ramble off different ideas for his prank.

―

"My lady." Hunter said in an overly posh accent, pulling out a chair from the patio table for Katie.

"Why thank you, kind sir," The girl copied him as she took a seat, looking around the garden of the Larklee house, "Hunter, this is amazing."

"You like it?" Hunter asked, lighting the candle in the middle of the table.

"I love it." The girl nodded, looking around in awe, grinning at the fairy lights that had been strung around, the bouquet of flowers that Hunter had bought her in a vase in the kitchen whilst they spent time together.

"Thank God," Hunter let out a nervous breath, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, before rushing back inside the house, before returning with a dish in his hands, "This is my Grammy's famous lasagne recipe," He told her, placing it on the table and sitting across from the blonde girl, "It's literally the only thing I know how to cook. I'm a baker at heart. I hope it's good."

"I'm sure it's great," Katie reassured the girl, gently placing her hand over his, "And if it's not, then I don't care," She shrugged, "I mean, you did all of this for me," She gestured around, "Ordering a pizza would've been just fine."

"You deserve way more than 'just fine'," Hunter told her, squeezing her hand, "You deserve everything that anyone can give you. You're special, Katie."

Katie blushed, "You're special, too, Hunt."

Hunter flushed red, before placing a portion of lasagne on each of their plates, "Moment of truth."

Katie took a bite of the food, Hunter doing so nervously.

"Oh my God, Hunter," Katie said, hand over her mouth, "This is amazing."

"Yes!" The boy threw his hands in the air, making the girl giggle, "We have dessert as well, anyway so we would've been fine."

"Oh, you're that sure of yourself, are you?"

"Hey, don't test me, or my baking skills." Hunter pointed at the girl, making her laugh as they continued to tuck into the lasagne.

The pair continued to talk and laugh, when there was a knock on the patio door and Jonathan's head poked through the small gap.

"Hey, guys, how you doing?" He asked with a grin.

"Great, thanks, Jonathan." Katie nodded with a smile.

"Dad!" Hunter groaned.

"What?"

"Does she like the lasagne?" Another voice asked, as Quinn joined Jonathan in peeking out to the patio.

"Quinn!"

"It's great, Quinn." Katie nodded again.

"Guyyys." Hunter glared at them.

"Sorry, we'll go," Jonathan held his hands up in surrender, "We'll be watching 'The Real Housewives' if you need us." He said, before they disappeared.

Hunter's shoulder relaxed as he let out a sigh, "Sorry about that."

"It's okay." Katie shook her head.

"Oh, one more thing quickly," Quinn reappeared, "That red velvet cake on the side?"

"Yes, I made that," Hunter nodded, a knowing smile on his face, "Let me guess, Beth wants it."

"So bad." Quinn nodded, rubbing her pregnant stomach.

"Well, I guess if the baby wants it, then sure." Hunter smiled.

Quinn's face lit up, "Thanks!" She grinned before disappearing again.

Katie laughed, "I love coming over here."

"I don't know why I expected peace and quiet tonight." Hunter chuckled.

"That was highly stupid of you." Katie nodded with a smile.

"So," Hunter said, taking a sip of his lemonade, "How's your photography project going?" He asked, making Katie perk up in excitement.

―

Hunter cocked his head to the side as Mr. Schuester wrote in big letters on the board, "Funk. Use it in a sentence," The teacher said, earning no replies, "Come on. Rachel."

Rachel sighed from where she was slumped at the back of the class, "This cheese smells funky."

"That's because it's 'from-unda' cheese." Puck smirked.

"Shut it, Puckerman!" Rachel glared.

"Okay, okay," Mr. Schuester calmed his students, "I was thinking more along the lines of... Vocal Adrenaline has sure put us all in a funk."

"I'm so depressed, I've worn the same outfit twice this week." Kurt muttered.

"What if I told you I knew how we could shove it right back down their throats?" Mr. Schue asked, "New Directions is about to make their funk the P-Funk. We are going to get funked up. The only way to do that is to beat them at Regionals. Vocal Adrenaline has never once done a funk number. They're a machine, a collective, synthesized, soulless beat. Funk is soul meets anger. Its passion is in its emotion. And Vocal Adrenaline doesn't perform with any. So you have your assignment. I want you guys to turn McKinley High into Funky town!" The man sang the last part.

Mercedes grinned, "You guys can relax, I got this one covered."

"Cool." Mr. Schuester nodded.

"Hold on a second," Quinn spoke up, "I-I want a chance to get funky, too." She said, making all of her classmates, excpet Hunter laugh.

"Good one, Quinn. It even sounds funny when you say it." Mercedes laughed.

"Dude." Hunter chastised her.

Quinn turned to look at their teacher in frustration, "You said funk was about soul and anger. I have plenty of both. Look at me. Look at my life. I'm furious!"

"Let's be honest. When white people try to be funky, you end up with KC and the Sunshine Band." Mercedes giggled.

"I love 'Boogie Shoes'." Artie grinned.

"Mercedes' racism aside," Quinn rolled her eyes, "I will have something prepared tomorrow."

"All right, Quinn goes first." Mr. Schue nodded, dismissing the club.

"We're gonna make this assignment your bitch." Hunter muttered to Quinn as they left the choir room.

"Oh, absolutely." Quinn nodded.

―

"Okay, Quinn," Mr. Schue clapped his hands together as he stood in front of the club the next day, "It's your day to show us your funky side. So, take it away."

Mr. Schuester sat down, and Quinn closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, squeezing her best friend's hand.

"For some of us," The blonde started, before standing up and moving to the middle of the choir room, "Just simply getting to class takes a little bit longer. When you're pregnant, you're responsible for two lives. And you're walking down the hallway oppressed by the man."

"Oh, my goodness, she is not about to go there." Mercedes whispered.

"Hearing people call you fat. Sometimes it hurts," Quinn said, sending Mercedes a look as she stomped her foot on the ground, and a small group of pregnant teens walked into the choir room, "Sometimes you have to stop and hold that precious life and say 'no'."

"This is offensive. Who are these girls?" Artie asked.

"We're the 'Unwed Mothership Connection'. And that's what we're here to sing about." Quinn told him, before grabbing herself a microphone on a stand.

[ it's a man's man's man's world, performed by quinn with the unwed mothership connection ]

By the time Quinn had finished her performance, everyone - except Mercedes - clapped and brought the blonde girl into a group hug, Hunter placing a gentle kiss on his best friend's forehead.

―

[ good vibrations, performed by puck, finn and mercedes ]

Hunter shared a confused look with Matt as everyone applauded their performance.

"All right. Great job, guys," Mr. Schuester nodded, "But that's not funk. I mean, the group is called Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch, but that is a rap song."

"A kick-butt old school rap song." Puck smirked.

"Does it really matter, Mr. Shue?" Artie asked, "We're so clinically depressed, we're doing the wrong songs. We're in a deeper funk than ever."

―

Hunter let out a sigh as he left the school after his study group, walking across the parking garage, pausing when he saw Vocal Adrenaline surrounding an egg covered Rachel. The brunette's anger grew when he saw Jesse slamming an egg onto Rachel's head.

Hunter's hands balled up into fists as he stormed towards the group's leader, "What the hell, Jesse?" He cried, grabbing the older boy by his jacket and slamming him into one of the members' Range Rovers, bought for them by Shelby, "What is actually wrong with you?"

"Get off me!" Jesse cried, struggling against the younger boy's grip,

"Breaking her heart isn't enough, you have to do this and humiliate her too?" Hunter growled, pushing Jesse into the car once more.

"I said get off!" Jesse yelled, pushing against Hunter, sending the boy back a few steps.

Hunter's jaw clench as he went to grab Jesse again, only for Rachel to call out his name.

"Hunter!" She cried, making both boys turn to her, "He's not worth it." Rachel shook her head, though the pain was clear in her eyes.

Hunter glanced between the pair, before glaring at Jesse, "Stay the hell away from her. Or you'll regret it." He threatened, before gently taking Rachel's hand and leading her back to the school.

"Where are we going?"

"Away from him and to get you cleaned up."

―

"And now I just keep having nightmares of all of the mothers of the little baby chicks coming after me for revenge." Rachel told the rest of the club at the Glee rehearsal the next day.

"Oh, this is bull!" Puck cried, "Finn, Mike, Hunter, Matt, come with me."

"Right on. It's time for less talking and more punching." Finn nodded as the five of them, Kurt and Artie made their way to the door.

"And this time I'm actually gonna hit him." Hunter agreed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Mr. Schuester asked as he entered the choir room, stopping them from leaving.

"We're on our way to go all Braveheart on Vocal Adrenaline." Finn cried.

"Guys, violence is never the answer." Mr. Schuester told them.

"It is when the question is 'what's the best way to mess up that Jessie kid's face?'!" Puck said through gritted teeth.

"For once, I agree with him." Hunter nodded.

"Mr. Shue, Rachel's one of us. We're the only ones who get to humiliate her." Kurt told him, the boys starting to make their leave.

"Stop!" Mr. Schue cried, making them turn around, "Get back here and sit down!" The teacher demanded, Kurt being the only one to comply, "Look, I know from experience that making someone else suffer doesn't make your pain go away," He then addressed the group as a whole, "You're all amazing, no matter what Vocal Adrenaline says or does. We just need to find a way to remind ourselves of that." Mr. Schuester sighed.

"We can't just let Vocal Adrenaline get away with turning Rachel into an omelet." Finn cried.

"Not even a vegan omelet!" Hunter added.

"We're not," Mr. Schuester declared, before turning to the girl in question, "Rachel, dial Jessie's number on your phone."

Rachel nodded, getting out her phone and dialling his contact number, before handing it to Mr. Schue.

Sanatana raised an eyebrow, "You haven't deleted his number yet?"

"Jesse St. James?" Mr. Schuester said into the phone, "Will Schuester here. You and Vocal Adrenaline need to meet at our auditorium Friday, 3:00 sharp."

―

Hunter grinned from offstage as he watched Rachel stand proudly in front of Vocal Adrenaline - who were sat in the audience.

"Thanks for coming," The girl started, "After your brazen escalation of our growing dispute, which we were willing to put to rest, we decided the only way to truly funkify you is to show you the one thing we know you can't do. So enjoy."

[ give up the funk, performed by the new directions ]

At the end of the number, the club smirked at Vocal Adrenaline's shocked responses as they sauntered off of the stage.

"See you punks at regionals." Puck smirked as they left.

drawing found on pinterest :)