MASON BROOKS

“sorry bud, but you’re cut off for a while. if i hear one more weird ass comment about our teacher, i won’t be able to look at her the same. that could definitely be interesting, we’d need a backstory though. like how is this place haunted? did someone die back here? was their spirit as attached to glee as rachel berry? what?”

“No one’s tried that you’ve fuckin’ noticed, man. But, yeah - fine. If you go missing, then I’ll drag you out of whatever closet they stash you away in. Just promise me you’re not actually going to let that Evans’ kid get rid of you before opening night. I can sympathize with a cult kidnapping, but let that Ken Doll steal you away and I’ll never respect you again.” 

“Saving your day isn’t enough proof enough to know that I’m worthy of your company? I’m hurt, Tosh - here I was, thinkin’ I was playing your knight in shining fuckin’ armor.” Brooks laughed just a bit, leaning back against the locker room door to nudge it open for the girl. Ever the gentleman. “Oh, yeah - being a fuckin’ art major at McKinley is like living free fuckin’ range sometimes. Sure, Coach is always on my fuckin’ ass after school, but during class? I don’t know. All I’m saying is that nobody cares if we’re performing at top shape - nobody’s trying to get us in front of a fuckin’ crowd. My abstract art teacher just likes it when we come to class ‘inspired,’  - and based on the amount of fuckin’ Phish concerts he’s always bragging about having seen, I think it’s safe to say we all know what ‘inspired’ means.” 

Brooks figured it should feel strange that he felt more at home walking through a trailer park than he did in his own neighborhood; that he felt safer traipsing drunk through the darkness than he did in his own bedroom... but with as much Jameson as he had shot back in the last hour or so, he figured it would only be working against his own buzz to think on it so hard. So, instead he focused on trying to keep himself from stumbling as he made his way toward Mira’s place. The sight of the familiar home bringing him the only ounce of comfort he had felt in... fuckin’ days. And then squashing itself so fuckin’ immediately when he realized Mira would actually have to see him the way he was - bruised and drunker than fuckin’ hell.  He almost considered going to the door, knocking and trying to pretend like he wasn’t wasted off his ass. But with as much fuckin’ fun as it would be to get chewed out by three Baizen’s in one night, Brooks decided to go his best friend’s window instead. Barely a warning knock tapping against the glass before he went to push it open. “Honey, I’m home!” Brooks practically slurred, every limb looking like it might as well be disconnected from his body as he attempted the climb through. “You know, Mirabella, I know I made a promise about not making any jokes about beating my schlong,” The boy just did his best to grin despite the turmoil in his chest; not meeting Mira’s eyes for a second as he tumbled onto her floor. “But I definitely think I deserve a little somethin’-somethin’ after that heroic fuckin’ climb, right? ‘Mm basically fuckin’ Spider-Man over here.” 

“Wait, you know where the breadsticks come from?” Elle leaned in and lowered her voice. “People are addicted to these things. You realize we could make a killing buying straight from the supplier and selling them on the street at a markup, right?” She glanced suspiciously at a waiter clearing the table next to theirs, and stayed silent until he went away. “If kids could buy these at school instead of having to come all the way to Breadstix to get them, they’d never come here again.” 

“Well, fuck me - and here I was thinkin’ that dude was loaded enough to shop at fuckin’ Macy’s or some shit.” Brooks just rolled his eyes - he should probably know better than making assumptions about anything related to fashion - but he couldn’t help but be impressed that she knew anyway. Anyone with enough money to know off of the top of their heads was always fuckin’ impressive. 

“Major attitude problems? Is that your official diagnosis, Nurse Evans? You know, it’s almost fuckin’ amusing to see you lashing out like this, but I feel like I have to point out that the last thing I’m afraid of is some sophomore - and definitely not some Sophomore who’s one fuckin’ half of the creepy twin duo from the Shining. My favorite flavor is Cherry - I’d love to see you take your best fuckin’ shot, Cheerio Ken.”

I mean, I can’t rig the class superlatives…I only make the categories, but I know that the New Directions definitely get a few on their page so I’ll see if we can add in “hottest idiot”. Your senior quote was atrocious. There’s no way I was letting that anywhere near my kids’ yearbook. You know they work all year for this? And if there’s something in it that needs covered, the next year’s staff is required to cover it with tape that rips the pages. Pages that we have worked on ALL Y E A R. Sorry, bud.

I guess it makes fuckin’ sense yearbook would have a whole set up... I’m almost disappointed in Mirabella for not mentioning this supply of shirts and ties. Could have used one for my interview at the Lima bean the other day. But - yeah, cool. I guess I’ll stop by before practice. I mean... As much as I’d love to do what everyone else is doing, I guess I should be fuckin’ used to the short end of the stick by now. Better than not having a baby picture in the book at all, right? Photoshop away.  

Vinny pulled out a small bag with a bunch of tablets midway from his jacket pocket to show the other he was serious, “So, what do you say, Brooks? Ready to make a decent buck?”

“Are you saying that you think I’m the guy who can get the art kids to go all Scooby Doo? Because I’m fuckin’ flattered, Hart.” Brooks couldn’t help but waggle his eyebrows at Vinny stepped closer to him; heart dropping a little in his chest at the movement. But it was the sight of the tablets in his pockets that had the feeling quickly flipping toward excitement in his chest. His eager hands nearly reaching out to take the baggie from Vinny before he could stop himself. “Fuuuuuck yeah, dude. If I’m going to keep affording four dollars for half a fuckin’ cigarette, I’m going to have to start making that Hart money, right?” 

I don’t know, bruh. I used to watch those murder mystery documentaries with my mom. You’d be surprised how many killers are rando suburban ladies.  I’m just saying keep your wits about you. 

Aw, come on. Now we’ve moved from STDs to fuckin’ murder? Dude, I really think you gotta get out a little fuckin’ more. The world really isn’t as scary as you seem to fuckin’ think it is, you know? It’s actually pretty fun taking dives into the deep end without knowing where you’ll end up on the other side. But that’s just one man’s opinion. 

T-minus five days until opening night and as excited as I am to see my kiddos perform, I also feel like I’m going to throw up everywhere. Is it normal to be this nervous? I don’t think I’ve felt this nervous since I was performing, I thought it would be less nerve-wracking on the other end.

What’s there to be nervous about, Fabray? Your lead is a freak with a vendetta out for everyone who crosses her fuckin’ path, you just recast a lead like two weeks ago, and I’m pretty sure I saw the band geeks all taking shots out in the parking lot - but you didn’t fuckin’ hear that from me. What could possibly go wrong? 

“Woah, good point. My mom is a daycare owner so I basically grew up babysitting. Think I’ll leave the hot moms to you though, Brooks. Messing around in the same hot mom pool sounds like a recipe for disaster…or at least some kind of STD.”

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ here for, man. Gotta admit, it’s probably smart to keep ‘em all to myself... but if you seriously think the Mom’s in this town are passing out STDs, then you’ve got some serious fuckin’ misconceptions about the perks of sleeping with older women. I mean, besides the whole having ‘husbands’ thing - no attachments, no worries. It’s the fuckin’ dream.”

mira: fuck fine. try not to get a hard on thinking about the cute trailer park i live in or anything

brooks: fuck, too late

@fcknbrooks​

“Do you think these breadsticks are so crunchy because they get stale coming all the way from Italy?” 

“I... Honestly think that the only fuckin’ thing in this joint that actually comes from Italy are those shoes that the host is wearing,” Brooks just raised an eyebrow up toward Elle. A grin he couldn’t quite seem to help stretching across his lips as her whole expression seemed to be overtaken by careful thought. Over fuckin’ bread sticks. “But I definitely wouldn’t put it past Breadstix to be putting stale bread sticks out on their table - even if they do just pick ‘em up from some restaurant supply chain down in fuckin’ Spencerville.” 

Alright kiddos, here’s the deal. Seniors, you need to start thinking about what baby pictures you want included in the yearbook for the collage. I’ve already sent emails to all parents, so they should already be picking things out. You also need to have your senior picture to me before April 15th. This is a hard deadline. If it’s not to me, then it’s not in the yearbook. Remember, it needs to have a black background. We will be voting on class superlatives within the next few weeks so keep an eye out for that, as well. 

If you have any questions, feel free to reach out. If you don’t know where my room is by now…

I can just about fuckin’ guarantee that neither of them got that email, but I guess I can crack open a few boxes in the garage and see what the hell I find. What happens if your black background ends up lookin’ a lot more like a junkyard barbecue? Because I’m pretty fuckin’ sure those are the only baby pictures that still exist of little Brooks. 

TOSHA : Party @ my place this Friday bitches

TOSHA: BYOB. Upstairs isn't my place but everything else is fair game. Smoke outside don't be ghetto.

BROOKS: oh, yES. just tell me what you like to drink and i'll fuckin' be there, Tipton

mira: only if you pinky promise

mira: i don't trust your ass at all

brooks: oh, come on! you trust my ass a little bit

“I almost want to fire him myself but I know that isn’t in my jurisdiction.” He sighed. “Looks like his teaching methods haven’t changed though. I”m sorry you kids had to witness that. I feel like I shouldn’t give you a pop quiz this month so you don’t suffer too badly.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I do. I just had a bit of an accident and the doctor suggested I stay home to rest.”

“Did you just say you want to fire your own boss? You’re lucky I’m not a fuckin’ snitch, man.” Brooks just laughed, rolling his eyes toward the older man with a shrug. “Can’t say I’m happy to see anyone get their ass kicked, but I’m always happy to skip a pop quiz. It’s the least you could fuckin’ do.”