𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐍 !

Serenity was working a closing shift at the family bakery, Sweet Escape’s. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been too busy and it had given her enough time to do some reading for one of her classes. Sitting behind the main counter, her nose was buried in the text, completely in her own nerdy world. The young girl was so focused on her homework that she almost didn’t hear the bell ring, indicating that a new customer had came in. Quickly fumbling to throw her book and papers back into her bookbag, she flashed a smile at her the other individual.

“Hello! So sorry about that, what can I get for you today? We just reveled our winter seasonal items on our menu by the way,” she spoke.  

Why did Wren’s family always send her on such tedious tasks? It was truly the bane of the redhead’s existence. With her older brother’s impeding wedding, there were only a handful of things Nia, Dan, and the rest of her family trusted her with. In fear that she would somehow mess up Nia’s dress at her fitting, her mom sent her to go pick up the cookies they had ordered from a local bakery. Fun, another thing Wren would be excluded from. It’s not like she cared. She knew the dress Nia had picked out, but it would have been nice to be a little included. It’s not like she was going to set the dress on fire, although it had crossed her mind maybe once. Entering the bakery, Wren’s senses were put into overload as she could smell the fresh pastries. Standing at the counter, she waited for the worker to notice her. “Oh, uh, cool,” she said with acknowledgement. “I, um, have an order to pick up actually,” Wren stated with awkwardness. Normally, she wasn’t an awkward person but she hated being a consumer. It was all too weird to her. “It should be under Schuester.”

@wrenschue​

Baby had promised her sister that she’d stay at the party for at least an hour before she found herself a ride home - she’d promised at least one gross mixed drink, courtesy of someone at the drink table; one pleasant conversation with someone she didn’t already know - and she’d almost meant to keep those promises. As it was nearing the end of her time cooped up in the St. James’ backyard, though, completely beerless, and successfully having avoided most of the population of McKinley that surrounded her… Baby couldn’t help but chalk it up as a successful night. It was only twenty more minutes until she could safely go and say bye to her sister, cooped up on the front porch, far away from where anyone could lay eyes on the vintage Cheerio’s uniform she was wearing. She didn’t find herself completely safe, though, as Wren made her way out onto the porch; the ginger’s Daphne costume making Baby feel almost insecure in her own choice of outfit that night. “Welcome to the party, Schuester. I was almost surprised you weren’t out here already.” Was all Baby really said as the other girl settled in, leaning toward the railing to make some room. “You get tired of all of the excitement inside, or…? Did you just need a quiet place to smoke without all of the Titans hounding you?” 

Wren was one who surprisingly didn’t enjoy the hustle and bustle of parties. She liked drinking, she especially enjoyed smoking, and she enjoyed chatting with her friends but that was all something she could do any day of the week. She didn’t need a party for it, but it was Eli’s birthday soiree and she owed it to her friend to go and enjoy herself, which she happily did. After a couple of hours or drinking and randomly singing a duet with Trace, she found herself walking out to the St. James’ backyard, digging a joint out of her pocket along with fishing out her lucky white lighter. A staple for the redhead. Once she got herself situated, Wren lit her joint and heard the voice of none other than Baby Puckerman. “Hey, Puckerman,” she slightly slurred out from the drinking she had been doing. Wren closed her eyes slightly to stare at Baby’s costume. “Shit. Are you a Cheerio?” She asked with a laugh. “Your mom’s doing, I’m guessing?” She knew that was the only logical answer for Baby’s costume. She stuck the joint in her mouth and inhaled. “The latter,” she exhaled. “Those bitches never bring their own stash and then suddenly want to be friends when I whip the good shit out. You want a hit?” She asked, holding the joint out to Baby.

★

“No thanks, I don’t do girls or stoners, and especially not both,” Fauna snapped, turning her nose up at Wren and her $5 bill. While it would be valuable to add to her measly collection from her shift, she wasn’t about to compromise her morals, even if it was to feed starving kids. “Just know that this money’s for charity, so whatever made up God you pray to is gonna be real disappointed in you for being so darn selfish that you couldn’t cough up a few bucks to help the less fortunate.” 

“While I do find your religious morals admiral, I’ll probably just wait around until your off the clock. I mean, what? You’ve got like, five other people doing this thing? I’ll just wait around until then.” Wren stated, shrugging her shoulders as she stuffed her hands into her cardigan pockets. “And for the record, man, I think organized religion is bullshit. I mean, you’ve been praying to God for years and yet he couldn’t take away your shitty personality. Surely, that says something about the fact that you’re just praying to an empty void,” she told the blonde in front of her, ,shifting back and forth on her feet. “And considering your God basically thrived off of being an asshole, I don’t think you can really preach about selfishness. No offense.” 

STOP AND HIT THE BONG

who: @wrenschue​ & @eli-stjames​ where: eli’s room / st. james residence when: sat, oct. 31, late night

Eli St. James was shockingly good at keeping it together for someone who was definitely on one. Not only had she been accepting birthday drinks all night, but she’d also impulsively done a point of molly with Finn. Not her smartest idea when what felt like the entire student body was in attendance and set on destroying her house. Eli was well into her roll and holding some drunk girl’s hair back in the bathroom when her phone started buzzing in her back pocket. “You’re good just…keep aiming for the bowl,” she said to the girl blowing chunks into the toilet. She grimaced and pulled out her phone only to see a text from Wren Schuester telling her to go up to her room. Fuck. Eli took one glance at herself in the mirror, jaws clenched and pupils dilated and knew she’d rather be anywhere else than here. “Where the fuck are your friends?” she groaned, though she knew the girl in the bathroom wasn’t hearing her. Frustrated, Eli opened the door and eyed the people in line. She pulled the most responsible looking person up to the front, told them to deal with the chick who couldn’t stop barfing, and beelined it to her room. When she got there, she spotted her favorite redhead posted up on her bed. “Dude,” she said, relieved, “I thought something fucked up happened so I booked it up here. But…you seem fine. What’s up?” Eli was talking uncharacteristically fast and the layer of sweat coating her face was making her glow. She took one glance in the mirror on her vanity and tried to adjust herself to look less…fucked up. In the mirror, she saw that Wren was holding something behind her back. “What’s that?” she asked, whipping her head around as a sly smile tugged at the corner’s of her lips, “don’t tell me you got me a gift.”

Wren was thoroughly enjoying her time. Despite Finn’s usual dramatics a few nights before (which was really just her bolting out of their room when things got bad), she was better than ever. Really, she was just getting absolutely piss drunk and high as a motherfucking kite. Maybe it was because she was on the rocks with her sister, but Wren thought she was just happily celebrating Eli’s birthday shindig as any other teenager would. No family drama to blame. After her little duet with Trace, she realized there was something missing. “Shit,” she muttered, remembering that she had a whole ass gift to give Eli. Typically, Wren wasn’t a gift giver and nine times out of ten her gifts were stolen products she had snatched from store in Lima, but lo and behold Wren actually dished out twenty bucks to get Eli the only present a budding drug dealer would ever need: a glass bong. Once she grabbed the gift out of the Schue-mobile, she shot a quick text to Eli telling her that she needed to see the brunette ASAP in her room and dashed up to Eli’s room, plopping down on the bed and folding her hands behind her back so Eli couldn’t see the bong. It seemed like Eli got the message because in no time, Eli was in her own room and Wren had a shit eating grin on her face. “Shit yeah, I got you a gift,” she said with a laugh, pulling her hands in front of her to display the bong. “Sorry I didn’t wrap it, but truthfully, dude, I don’t know how to wrap gifts and I wasn’t about to go buy a bag to put it in,” she explained. “And before you ask, no I didn’t steal it,” a beat. “And yes, we have to christen her. I don’t even care if you’re already goddamned blazed.”

𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂

@crhqstarters​ // fauna & open.

Fauna was torn on the kissing booth. On one hand, if you were popular it was a great way to solidify your place on the totem pole by having hundreds of desperate weirdos line up to kiss you. On the other hand, you had to actually kiss desperate weirdos. Or worse, you were already 10 minutes into your shift and no desperate weirdos had even come by to shell out $5 for a charity smooch. Jesus Christ, what is happening to the world? Fauna closed her eyes and began to pray for someone, anyone to come to the booth. When she opened them and noticed a certain someone making a beeline for her booth, she tried to take the prayer back. Not this loser! 

“No!” She barked, as soon as they got close enough to hear. “I am not kissing you. But I will take your money for starving children.” 

Wren didn’t believe in giving money to corporations. Even with the carnival, she managed to sneak her way inside although she was 99% sure she got in free for being a part of one of the monkey attractions, that being Rocky Horror but something was pulling her to the kissing booth. Maybe because giving to charity made her feel a bit better or maybe because she saw a girl working and since this was Celibacy Club good Christian girls sponsored, she wanted to cause a bit of a ruckus. As she got over to the booth and her eyesight allowed her to realize it was Fauna working the booth, it made things much more comical for her. “Sorry, no kiss, no feeding the children,” she shrugged. “Is this a gay thing? Am I gonna have to wait around for Theo? Because quite frankly, I’m sure his lips would swallow me whole,” she said, moving closer to the booth, pulling a 5 dollar bill out of her wallet and folding it out. She placed both elbows on the counter of the booth and gripped the bill in her hand so Fauna couldn’t snatch it. “One kiss and all of this is yours. Besides, I’m the best your gonna get. Already heard that freshman kid in A/V who’s on Accutane is planning on coming by later so... I’m kinda the best customer you’ll have tonight.”

who: bodhi lopez pierce and open @crhqstarters​

where: st. james basement

when: halloween (happy bday zoe)

So maybe he was running around the corner but it was only because he was pretty sure he saw a real life ghost. “Don’t go that way! Whatever you do!” He exclaimed, hiding against the wall. “It’s not a good idea, I think I saw a ghost. And not someone with a sheet over their head. I almost shat myself.” 

“Bro, you’re shitting me,” Wren said, looking over where he was looking. “Well, you know what today is right?” She asked, quirking a brow. “Samhain. All Souls’ Day. Shit where you’re supposed to like honor the dead and the veil is the thinnest and with the spookiness of that fucking Barbra Streisand portrait, I’m sure she’s lurking in these halls,” the redhead said, putting on her spookiest voice. “Luckily for you, I’m just the girl for the mystery,” she pointed out, motioning to her Daphne inspired costume.

who?: lincoln clarington-smythe & @crhqstarters​ where?: in front of the ring-toss stand at the halloween carnival  when?: friday, october the 30th, a few hours before rocky horror

Lincoln knew that it would be his most sensible choice to head back to his car and start getting ready for the show. But since was ‘sensible’ a word used to describe him? He’d been wandering around the carnival for just under an hour, collecting the phone numbers of hot guys in sexy costumes and getting them to win him prizes at the cute little fair games. 

A plush pumpkin tucked under his arm, Link blew a kiss to his most recent beau as he headed back to his group of friends from the ring-toss. Pulling his phone out of the back pocket of the black shorts he was wearing, (not very convenient, and Link was freezing, but, God, he looked good) Link scrolled through a few of the pictures he had taken so far. Some cute pics of him posed in front of some hay barrels, a selfie with the plush spider he had been given earlier on. He could totes post these.

Just as his finger moved towards the Instagram app, Link caught a glimpse of a familiar face who hadn’t seemed to have noticed him yet and he quickly switched over to his camera app, jogging over before. Throwing the pumpkin toy into the unsuspecting person’s arms, Link held up a peace sign with his free hand and his phone up with the other and gave a grin. “Smile, babe!” The second the photo was taken, Link’s face dropped back into his usual resting bitch face, checking to see how his impromptu photoshoot had turned out. “Aw, we actually look cute. I’m totally posting this on my main, I’ll tag you don’t worry.”

Wren lacked in a lot of things, but what she didn’t lack in was talent. She never allowed herself to be the most talented in the room mainly because she didn’t enjoy it. More like she’d rather not give her parents the satisfaction of having their twins being a little unstoppable duo and toting them around like they were the fucking Osmonds, but she loved Rocky Horror so auditioning was a crapshoot but being a part of a live screening of it was a dream to the redhead. 70′s cult classics were her shit. She wasn’t in her costume yet, but she had been fixing her hair and makeup for the last hour so she’d be ready when they went on. Just as she was making a beeline for concessions, suddenly needing an overpriced apple cider, Link had approached her and before she had a moment to react, she had a plush pumpkin in her hands and she was smiling into Link’s camera. “Oh, don’t tag me,” she quickly said, shaking her head. “I have a private account for a reason and I can’t really have the government on my ass. You know,” she wiggled her finger around. “They’re always watching.”

𝐖𝐇𝐎: Wren Schuester & @beckbeckett​

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: Saturday, October 31st. Night.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: St. James Basement.

It was no secret that one of Wren’s favorite (and only) holidays that she enjoyed and actively celebrated. Normally, she wouldn’t dress up and she’d stay in her bedroom and would practice Samhain instead, playing with her Tarot cards and trying to communicate with the other realm for the entire night but she couldn’t pass up going to Eli and Zoe’s conjoined birthday bash. Samhain would just have to wait (besides it’s not like she had any family member’s death to celebrate) so she could take a night off from her witchy-woo duties and just dress up, eat a ton of candy, and get absolutely sloshed. Sounded like a perfect night to the redhead. It wasn’t until she was actually at the party that she started to feel a little weird. There were plenty of people who seemed under-costumed and over-costumed, but she just felt out of her element. She was wearing one of a deep purple long-sleeved shift dress and a pair of white go-go boots that she had in her closet already. No way in hell was she going to wear pink tights a purple shoes so the go-go boots would have to do. Along with that she was wearing a purple headband and green ascot, both of which were not in her closet so she stole from a Walmart because... fuck corporations. Her DIY Daphne costume definitely had her feeling girlier than usual and costume-wearing just wasn’t her thing. Sipping on a concoction of rum and coke, Wren made her way around looking for someone to gab with and when she spotted someone in a David Bowie costume, she made an immediate beeline. She could have mingled with someone new or search for Vincent or LJ, but by the end of the night she knew she’d make her way to Beck sooner or later. Tapping his shoulder, she waited for him to turn around, a big smile plastered on his face. “Hey, Ziggy. You having fun with us plebeians?” She questioned, knocking her elbow into his arm. “And if you say jack shit about my costume, you’ll wake up tomorrow as a one nut wonder so I’d tread lightly with any and all comments.”

𝐖𝐇𝐎: Wren Schuester & @tracehummelanderson​

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍: Saturday, October 31st. Night.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: St. James Basement.

Wren Schuester fucking loved Halloween, she basically dressed like she was a citizen of Halloweentown everyday of her life and that meant every reason to celebrate. That, and Eli and Zoe’s combined birthday party. While Wren enjoyed drinking, smoking, and doing anything else that made her feel a little less dead inside she never got too crazy or too out of her element and she knew her limits. But tonight, oh boy, was tonight a different story. Wren was used to getting high and she was used to having a few drinks, but she was crossfaded out of her goddamn mind and after downing a shot of Crown Royal from some bottle an A/V member brought, she was feeling like she could jump off a roof and survive. She wasn’t going to do that, but the thought certainly crossed her mind. Instead, she fell into her true Schuester tendencies and she wanted to sing. Throw her on the crucifix now, Wren Schuester wanted to hop up on that St. James stage and sing with the God given pipes her genes gave her. Looking for a singing partner, her eyes gazed upon the attendees that were currently dancing and living their best lives in the basement. She could pluck Julien out of the crowd and beg him to sing with her. She knew it wouldn’t take much convincing and Julien would probably enjoy a moment like that but Wren wasn’t gonna let him do that so easily. Instead, she chose second best. Her eyes landed on Trace who was also a part of a costume with her so it seemed fitting to sing with him. Wren was currently dressed as Daphne and Trace was none other than Shaggy so they basically had to do a duet, right? Walking over to him, she grabbed a hold of his shoulder and yelled over the music, “You’re fucking singing with me, dude,” she left it at that as she dragged him up to the stage that was in the St. James stage, flashbacks of her putting on performances with the Schuester/St. James/Hummel-Anderson clan flashing back to her. As soon as the pair climbed up on stage, it’s like the music hushed immediately and Wren hooked her phone up to the stereo, putting on one of the Scooby-Doo theme songs. Again, it was only fitting and she knew it was a song Trace would have to know and they wouldn’t really have to take turns while singing and if there was anything Wren hated, it was a solo. “What’s new, Scooby-Doo? We’re coming after you,” she started, pointing out to the crowd and bobbing her body up and down with the music. “You’re gonna solve that mystery, I see you Scooby-Doo,” she took the mic off the mic stand and began singing into it as she looked over at Trace. “The trail leads back to you, what’s new Scooby-Doo?”

BECK: okay now i know that's a lie because i've heard Mr. Schuester's Dad Jokes

BECK: your cutest outfit?? wow, it's starting to sound like you actually like me - that's really going to hurt this narrative that you think i'm unfunny and that i suck

BECK: also i'm starting to feel underdressed

BECK: should i have thrown on a tie or something

WREN: nope. even he's funnier than you. fact.

WREN: what can i say? i aim to please. even aim to please the most unfunniest, suckiest, and underdressed people such as yourself.

★

For just a moment, Stevie thought that he was busted. Maybe Wren had seen him and Vince under the bleachers, or they were too obvious at rehearsal one day. Luckily, Wren was way off in her assessment of the situation. Unluckily, it meant she now thought he had feelings for Julien, of all people. “What? Julien? I- no, you’re way off. I mean, no offense to your brother but he is not my type,” Stevie quickly corrected. “I just figured I should sit with some new people for a change. I mean, listening to Ruby’s sexcapades can be fun sometimes, but today the thought is kinda making me feel like blowing chunks.”

Wren furrowed her brows. If Stevie wasn’t here to chit chat to her about Julien, then why was he here? Maybe it had to do with Beck, but at his mention of just sitting with new people for a change, she pursed her lips. “Huh,” was all she said as she finished the half of her sandwich. “What is your type then? Something wrong with my brother?” She asked, semi-defensively. She wasn’t being serious, but maybe she could get Stevie to quake in his boots a bit. “Perfect! I’ve been wanting to talk to someone about my own sexcapades.”

@wrenschue // stevie & wren. 

Okay, so Vince had dumped him, so what? Stevie knew it was just a heat-of-the-moment mistake that Vince would come to regret sooner or later. Stevie was just going to speed the process along by… infiltrating his friend group so he became inescapable so Vince would realize he loved him and made a huge mistake. Foolproof. If only Stevie actually knew anything substantial about his friends beyond “weed” and “band.” 

It went to show how different he and his brother were. Apparently, Beck and Vince had a ton of friends in common, something Stevie probably should have realized a lot earlier in their relationship. Today’s target was Wren. He spotted the girl, mercifully alone, at a lunch table and placed his tray across from hers. “Hey, Wren!” Stevie greeted, way too chipper, especially considering the other’s ‘always casual’ disposition. “Mind if I sit with you for a while?” 

Wren had a strictly ‘no Cheerios’ policy. While she would talk to relatively anyone and didn’t try to be that person, she had never met a nice Cheerio. They were all just as vapid as the next and most of them had blonde hair dye dipping off the ends of their hair. It was simply not her people but there were some that were inevitable to come by. One being Stevie Beckett. While she did a good job at avoiding him, being Beck’s best friend typically made it impossible to not run into a conversation or two. “Hey,” she greeted, furrowing her eyebrows as Stevie approached her table. The redhead reached into her lunchbox and pulled out a bowl of grapes and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich her mom had packed for her. “Sure,” she motioned to the open seat in front of her. She had a sneaking suspicion as to why Stevie would want to have lunch with her instead of sitting at the Cheerios table. “Look, man, I know what this is about,” she started, biting into a half of her sandwich. “You wanna ask Julien out so you’re trying to get info out of me, but I hate to break it to you. I actually think he’s straight.”

★

“Honestly, I barely had anything to drink today.” It was partially true. Grading on the Carolina Curve she’d barely scratched the surface on how much alcohol her stomach could handle, but she was still acting pretty visibly tipsy. “I’m good, though. I just need some water!” She reached over the counter and pulled a bottle, downing about half of it immediately. At Wren’s suggestion to switch roles for the day, Carolina could have hugged her, but she figured the other girl was too cool for that. “You would do that for meeeee? I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?” She thought for a moment about how she could make it up to her, before realizing she had the perfect solution. “Oh, you can have a freebie from my medicine cabinet after closing, fair?” She pulled out the makeup bag she used to store not-so-legal-pharmaceuticals and shook it for good measure. 

“You’re still pretty drunk, dude,” Wren pointed out. While it wasn’t Carolina’s tipping point nor was she stumbling into walls, anyone with a pair of eyeballs could tell she wouldn’t even be able to pass a breathalyzer test so it felt better to trade and leave the other with an easier job to do for the day. “‘Course I would. Can’t let you getting fired. You might end up in a ditch or something with a brown bag if you did that,” the redhead said, giving Carolina a friendly pat on the shoulder, her lips tightening into a small closed-mouth smile. She grabbed her skates that were located behind the counter, hopping up on the counter to put them on. “I’m usually not a pill popper, but shit. Not gonna turn it down,” she eyed the bag closely, wondering how much trouble Carolina could get in for that alone.