The courtyard of William McKinley High School buzzed with excitement as it turned into a stage for Aubree Ivy Lee-Parker to shine. Recently crowned and sashed as Miss Teen Ohio a month ago, she stood in the spotlight, a dazzling display of elegance amidst a sea of eager reporters and curious onlookers. The cameras clicked, ready to capture every moment.

The reporter's voice crackled, laden with enthusiasm. "Ladies and gentlemen," she declared, "We're here with the one and only Aubree Lee-Parker, reigning Miss Teen Ohio! Aubree, congrats on the title! How's it feel to be Ohio's shining star on the national scene?"

"It's certainly surreal," Aubree replied with a practiced smile that adorned her lips, standing in the midst of a horde of reporters and spectators, all eager for a glimpse of her. Surrounded by a sea of spectators and journalists, she stood tall, a vision of grace in her pale pink gown and heels, her cascading blonde locks framing her face like a golden halo. Only a few weeks ago, she was a normal high school student, now catapulted onto the national stage. "I'm still adjusting to all of this newfound fame and attention. But I love being a role model and representing my home state in the pageant circuit."

As applause erupted from the crowd, Aubree's gaze flickered momentarily towards a trio of familiar faces—Santana Lopez, Quinn Fabray, and Brittany Pierce—huddled together, their hushed whispers carrying an air of disdain. Aubree turned her vibrant eyes away from them, feeling an immense sense of discomfort as they stared back at her. Those three had always been her biggest detractors. Even now, as she stood on the cusp of a life-changing moment, a feeling of discomfort lingered as the trio remained in her peripheral.

Aubree nervously returned the public's adoration with a warm wave, her heart pounding in her chest. The crowd's adoration was thrilling, yet she couldn't help but feel like an outsider amidst the group of spectators. The pageant queen could hear whispers being exchanged in the crowd, and she had a feeling that they weren't meant to be kind. But she quickly dismissed the thoughts and smiled, trying to focus on putting on her best face for the cameras.

As Aubree stood amidst the sea of familiar faces, one figure emerged from the crowd with an air of casual indifference: Noah Puckerman, her ex-boyfriend, sauntering over with a swagger that exuded confidence and arrogance in equal measure. Her heart sank at the sound of Noah's voice, a mixture of memories and emotions flooding her mind. Despite their past relationship, his nonchalant attitude always had a way of leaving her feeling unsettled, and now, as they stood face-to-face, his presence loomed over her like a dark cloud. She composed herself, however, and greeted him with a forced smile laced with polite indifference, hoping to keep the hurt and frustration that bubbled up within her hidden beneath a thin veneer of composure.

"Hey, Aubree," he drawled casually with an air of nonchalance that grated against Aubree's nerves. "Miss Teen Ohio, huh? Fancy stuff."

Aubree's poised façade faltered as Puck intruded upon her moment, a pang of annoyance flashing in her eyes. "Noah, I'm kinda busy—"

Her words were cut short by Karofsky, who interjected with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball. "Word on the street is you're Miss Easy Access," the jock smirked, his words dripping with innuendo.

The blonde's jaw clenched in frustration as she watched Puck, Karofsky, and Azimio crowd around her interview, clearly trying to provoke her. Puck always had a knack for getting under her skin, and the thought of them interrupting her moment in the spotlight infuriated her.

She tried to keep her composure, knowing that she wouldn't let them get the best of her, but their presence was suffocating. Her fists tightened at her sides, and the urge to lash out at them was growing. Instead, she took a deep breath and met their gazes with steel in her eyes.
"I'm not sure what exactly you're implying...but I assure you, I am nothing of the sort."

In the midst of the verbal exchange, Aubree's gaze darted towards Puck, still wearing his smirk, but there was something unsettlingly familiar about it. Her eyes flickered towards his hand, catching a glimpse of something blue glinting before it happened. With sudden force, Puck launched the contents of the cup directly at her.

Aubree's world blurred, a cold cascade of slushie drenching her gown, sash, and crown. Her eyes widened in horror as a cold slushie drenched her body, leaving her covered in a sticky, bright blue liquid. The crown on her head fell to the ground, its glittering jewels now buried under the chilly puddle of slushie. Stunned speechless, she could only watch in disbelief as the crowd's cheers morphed into gasps and murmurs of disgust. Another football player took the opportunity to chime in, a smirk playing on his lips. "Miss Slushie Ohio, anyone?"

With a sly smile curling her lips, Santana seized the opportunity to deliver her cutting remark. "Seems the princess got a spontaneous makeover," she taunted, her words dripping with the venom of their long-standing feud.

From the sandbox squabbles of their kindergarten days to the whispered insults exchanged in the hallowed halls of McKinley High, Aubree Ivy Lee-Parker and Santana Lopez had been sworn enemies since childhood, locked in a bitter feud for as long as they could remember. And now, as Aubree stood drenched and humiliated before her, it was clear that their rivalry showed no signs of abating anytime soon.

"Puck? How could you?" Aubree whispered, voice quivered with a mixture of disbelief and anger as her gaze locked onto his with accusatory intensity. A chorus of giggles sounded from the onlookers, a deep pit of embarrassment and frustration in her stomach. With shaky hands, she tried to clean the sticky drink off her ruined clothes, to no avail. Her breath caught in her throat, her mind racing as she tried to process the moment.

Puck gave her a lazy shrug in response, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I couldn't help myself," he drawled casually, his tone laced with a hint of mockery, as if the whole situation was nothing more than a trivial amusement. "I just had to put 'Miss Thing' in her place."

Karofsky's snicker cut through the tense atmosphere, his voice dripping with snark. "It's nothing personal, princess. We just wanted to remind you that you're just like the rest of us."

Santana's grin widened as she closed the distance between them, her presence exuding an aura of triumph as she prepared to deliver the final blow. "Oh, and Aubree, I hope that crown sits well on you, since your ex couldn't wait to find himself a more eager bed partner." In a deliberate motion, she stood close behind Puck, her hand snaked up his arm in a possessive gesture, not even attempting to conceal her smug grin. As if it already wasn't painfully clear to everyone present that she had him firmly under her thumb now, her victory over Aubree complete.

Aubree couldn't help but feel tears prickling the corners of her eyes as Santana's comment hit her like a ton of bricks. She always knew Puck was incapable of staying loyal to any one girl, but she had foolishly let herself hope that he didn't see their hookup as just another notch in his bed and now she was left with nothing but tears and humiliation.

The reporter stammered, "We'll be back after this break." As the camera cut away, the courtyard's festive atmosphere dissolved into a mixture of disbelief and tension. The camera fades into a commercial break, leaving Aubree standing amidst the slushie-drenched chaos. The air crackled with a charged energy, the remnants of her shattered dignity mingling with the icy remnants of the slushie that clung to her skin.

Just as Aubree braced herself for the onslaught of humiliation to come, a familiar figure broke through the crowd, his frantic voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a lifeline. "Aubree, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Mike's words spilled out in a rush, his eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and sincerity. "I didn't know they were gonna do this. I swear if I'd known—"

His voice faltered, trailing off into an apologetic murmur as he draped his letterman jacket over Aubree's trembling shoulders. The fabric, warm and comforting against her cold, slushie-soaked dress, offered a small measure of solace amidst the chaos. Aubree inhaled shakily, summoning a shaky smile to reassure her friend. "Mike, it's not your fault," she insisted, her voice a fragile echo of its usual poise. "You couldn't have known."

Mike looked on with concern as he wrapped his letterman jacket around her icy, slushie-covered body. The coat was warm and comforting against her wet dress. Mike's apologetic fluster continued, his words stumbling over each other. "I mean, I would've stopped them if I—"

Aubree interrupted him, her voice retaining its elegant cadence but laced with her signature biting commentary. "It's okay, Mike. You're not like those knuckle-dragging, slushie-flinging neanderthals."

Aubree then looked towards Mike, who looked a bit taken aback by her words, but still smiled nervously. She leaned on him for support, her body still shivering from the cold slushie that had drenched her once-perfect ensemble. Mike draped a protective arm around the blonde's shoulders, his warmth lending itself to her comfort.

"Seriously, Aubree, I wouldn't let them—"

Aubree's urgency pierced through his words. "Mike, I need to get out of here. Please, you're the only person I can trust right now." The desperation in her voice was palpable, an uncharacteristic crack in her usual composed exterior. Mike's determination intensified as he pulled her gently closer.

Mike nodded solemnly. "Of course, let's get you out of here." As if on cue, he noticed a large group of onlookers, a few of them pointing and taking pictures with their phones. His expression hardened as his protective instincts kicking in as he turned back to look at the other football players fist-bumping each other, proud of their prank. It was a classic they had pulled off countless times on other students, but clearly there was something extra special about doing it to Aubree this time.

As they moved through the courtyard, Mike couldn't help but notice the glances and whispers that followed in their wake. A few bold onlookers even raised their phones to capture the spectacle, their invasive curiosity igniting a spark of anger within him. With a determined set to his jaw, he tightened his grip on Aubree's shoulder, shielding her from the curious eyes of their peers.

"Quick, this way," Mike whispered urgently, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of their classmates. Relief washed over him as he realized they were alone, spared from further humiliation in the privacy of the parking lot.

Once they were safely away from the chaos of the courtyard, a hushed atmosphere settled between them, broken only by the occasional sniffle from Aubree and her grip tightening around his jacket. He turned towards her and asked, "You doing okay?"

Aubree sniffed, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand as a surge of emotion threatened to overwhelm her. "In what WORLD is this okay?" she snapped, her words tinged with bitterness of the enormity of what just happened.

"I... uh, meant like, are you physically okay..." Mike trailed off, his voice a soothing yet concerned murmur. Despite her biting tone, he knew she was hurting; he could feel it.

"Physically, I'm... I'll survive," she admitted quietly, her eyes flickering to the mess of slushie that still clung to her once-perfect gown.

Mike bit his lip, his frustration growing in proportion to his sympathy. "I know, the whole thing is messed up... but those assholes aren't worth it, you know? They're the same dumb jocks they've been since middle school; this is the only fun they get out of life." He sighed, the sight of her trembling making him feel even more helpless.

Aubree took a deep breath, Mike's words and reassurances beginning to sink in, soothing her frayed nerves. Despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within her, she found a flicker of relief in his presence.

"You're right," she confessed quietly, her voice steadier now. "They're not worth the energy or the tears, but it still hurts... you know?"

"We gotta get you home, come on." He gently gripped her hand and led her towards the parking lot. Michael Chang Jr was pretty much her one true friend in this world. Mike and Aubree had a bond that stretched back to their earliest memories. They had grown up on the same street, their houses separated by only a few yards of pavement. But their bond had been cemented during their summers at the camp affectionately dubbed "Asian Camp," where every Asian family dumped their kids for the season, and Aubree at the age of 6 showed up in her Belle dress that everyone laughed at her for being in— except Mike of course.

From that moment on, Aubree knew that she could count on Mike, no matter what. And as he led her through the parking lot, his hand firmly clasped in hers, Aubree squeezed Mike's hand tightly, silently thanking him for the lifelong friendship they shared.

Mike held Aubree's hand tightly, gently leading her through the parking lot. As they walked, he couldn't help but glance at her every now and then. The sight of her drenched in slushie, her usually elegant outfit now ruined, tugged at his heart. He knew her better than anyone else, and he was painfully aware of the effort and pride she had poured into preparing for this day.

As they reached Mike's car, he rushed over to the passenger side and held open the door for Aubree, helping her into the vehicle like the true gentleman he was. He then quickly made his way over to the driver's seat, carefully placing his jacket over the seat to ensure Aubree's wet dress didn't soil it further.

She was still quietly sobbing and shivering from the shock of the slushie attack, her tears mingling with the remnants of icy liquid on her cheeks. Once she was sitting, he rushed around to the driver's side and got in. He looked at her with a heartfelt expression of concern. After a few moments of quiet sobbing, Aubree's tears began to subside, replaced by a sheepish look of self-consciousness. "I'm sorry I just melted down like that," she murmured softly, her voice a stark contrast to the confident persona she projected in public. "I just... I feel so stupid."

Mike turned his gaze towards her, searching for the proper words to say. He knew that no one could undo the humiliation she felt, but at least he could try to offer some comfort. "Aubree, you're a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them," he replied, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure no one would have handled that situation better than you."

Mike glanced over at her, his eyes catching the remnants of slushie on her face. He reached over with the sleeve of his shirt and began to gently wipe away the sticky substance on her cheeks, careful around her hearing aid.

She managed a small, wry smile, her voice still a bit shaky but grateful, "Thanks, Mike. But you know me, I'm never like this..." She closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting out a slow, steadying breath before opening them once more. "I just... I have no idea how I'm going to explain this to my parents."

The car enveloped them in a cocoon of silence, save for the rhythmic click of the blinker and the gentle hum of the engine. After a prolonged moment, Mike broke the silence. "You know what this reminds me of? Remember when we were like 6 and you came to Asian Camp and you showed up in that Belle dress and tiara?" Mike said after a while.

He paused, waiting for her to respond. Instead, all he noticed was her lips slightly curling up in a small smirk so he continued. "You couldn't even pronounce your 'l's at the time. You went around saying 'I'm the weading wady of wima'" Mike let out a soft chuckle at the memory, hoping to provide her with some levity and distract her from her recent embarrassment.

As the memory unfolded, Aubree couldn't help but feel a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the lingering sting of humiliation.

"Shut up, it's not funny!" She protested as she leaned her head back against the window, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement. As laughter spilled from her lips, Aubree felt a weight lift from her shoulders, if only temporarily. A few more snickering breaths escaped her lips, as she gave him a small smile, thinking back to those days when they were kids, before she even imagined that boys like Puck could exist.

She closed her eyes, picturing the scene in her mind, and a small, fond smile tugged at her lips. "I can't believe you remember that," she replied, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "I was so proud of that dress. I wore it every time I could, didn't I?"

Mike nodded in agreement, chuckling. "How could I not? You were practically married to that Disney dress. You probably wore it at least three days a week that summer and it would look just like that by the end of it." He shook his head, gesturing to her currently stained dress. "We were lucky your grandmother had the patience of a saint. She must have gone through so many bottles of stain remover."

*Aubree couldn't help but laugh at Mike's observation. He was absolutely right; that Belle dress had been her constant companion all summer.*

She playfully punched him on the arm, her eyes glinting with nostalgia. "Hey, I was just making sure my royal status was never in question, you know? Besides, it's not like anyone ever makes fun of you for the amount of times you wore that dumb ninja turtles t-shirt you used to have."

As they pulled up to her house, he got a sense of the magnitude of what had just happened. He could see the house, the neighborhood, and he could only imagine what Aubree must be feeling right now. With a heavy heart, he parked the car and turned towards her.

"Are you going to be okay getting inside?" he asked quietly, his voice laced with concern. "You can call me later tonight or something, or text me. Whatever you need."

Aubree managed a small nod, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "Yeah, I'll be okay. I just need some time to sort myself out," she replied softly, a hint of strength in her voice.

She reached out and squeezed his hand, a gesture of appreciation and reassurance."Thanks again for everything, Mike. I'll text you later, I promise."

Mike's expression relaxed a bit, glad that Aubree seemed like she'd be okay. He squeezed her hand back, still not wanting to leave her when she was in such a fragile state. "Sounds good," he said with a reassuring smile. "Take all the time you need. I'm always next door if you need anything, okay?"

*Aubree nodded, her grip loosening slightly but her fingers lingering for a moment longer before slipping away. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door.

"Will do," she managed a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, but she was grateful for his support all the same. With that, she reluctantly closed the car door and walked up to her front porch, disappearing into the warm glow of the house behind her.

CHRISTINA'S CORNER!

All of y'all glaring at me after waiting months for this just to read a whole chapter of a girl sobbing 😭:

I'M SORRY OKAY!? 😭 This is a prologue of sorts because I was going to have it continue into the next day where the pilot episode would take place but I felt like it would be too long and also so much coming at you at once for a first chapter so this is kind of preparing you for the headspace she'll be in in the first episode