fumbled with the purple sweater in her arms, twisting it and turning it over and over again. As she looked down at the person sitting in front of her, Quinn, who sat doodling a picture which looked oddly like her, but with little hearts scribbled terribly around the deeply exaggerated portrait.

"Can I ask you guys something?" Rachel asked the girls who currently occupied the Glee club, aside from Schuester, who sat alone like usual grading papers he most likely couldn't understand.

"Yes, you should move to Israel." Santana yawned, filing her nails with minimal effort.

"It's about dating." Rachel began, "Not that I'm dating anyone! We all know that Finn and I are no longer an item, and for the sake of the team, I broke up with Jesse. But... let's just say I was dating someone—"

"Just say you're with Jesse St James and move on," Dorothea interrupted quietly, finally letting the sweater rest in her lap as Rachel shot her a devilish glare.

Rachel returned to her usual bossy stance, hands to her hips and posture as straight as could be, "Let's just say, hypothetically, we went to a Wiggles concert last Friday night, and then because my dads weren't home, we went up to my room and started making out. It was erotic and romantic. And then he said he wanted to do... it." Rachel lost the stance, removing her hands and becoming seemingly more intensely awkward and unsure of what to do with them.

"Jesus Christ," Dorothea muttered under her breath.

"What if then he got really crabby and left, and didn't even take home the Care Bear I won him playing Skee Ball?" Rachel asked the girl, as Schuester became more aggressive with his marking, the writing of the pen becoming louder.

"Would you please stop talking? You're grossing out my baby." Quinn inquired insincerely.

"You're grossing out me in general." Dorothea muttered hearing a quiet laugh Santana covered with a cough beside her.

"I just want to be ready; I know I'm getting older, and these things are going to happen someday, but how do I stop a guy from getting mad at me for saying "no"?" Rachel sincerely asked.

Santana shoved the nail file into her bag, "Just do what I do. Never say no."

"That's concerning," Dorothea murmured.

Santana rotated her body to face her, as she furrowed her eyebrows intensely, shooting her a glare, "What?"

"...nothing."

Brittany's speaking took Santana's attention away from Dorothea shying away from her, "Oh, totally. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? Sorry, Quinn."

"Look, girl, don't ask me. The last guy I liked was the mayor of gay town. And I can't wait to get a guy mad at me for saying no." Mercedes shrugged.

"The last time I was with someone, I was their sidepiece," Dorothea said, glaring at Quinn as subtly as she could, trying to avoid catching attention for it.

"We just have to accept that guys don't care about our feelings. Like, the other day, I was walking with Artie and he wanted me to change everything about myself to make him be with me." Tina informed them.

"I'll smack him oh my God," Dorothea said as Tina looked around at her and nodded. Please do, Tina mouthed.

"That's gotta sting." Rachel flatly said as Schuester interrupted.

"Hey, guys. I'm sorry to interrupt your little sorority, but I couldn't help but overhear. Are you really having that much boy trouble?"

"You wouldn't understand, Mr Shue. You're a guy."

"Well, then maybe you should talk to someone else about it. Like Miss Pilsbury." Schuester suggested, not realising how painfully unhelpful Miss Pilsbury was.

"I tried that," Rachel informed the man, as the bell rang and the girls packed up to leave.

Quinn stopped beside Schue to speak to him, as everyone else left, Dorothea lingered in the doorway as Quinn spoke to Schuester, "The fact is that women still earn 70 cents to every dollar that a man does for doing the same job. That attitude starts in high school."

***

Dorothea sat with Kurt in the back left of the choir room, as Schuester scribbled out a word on the whiteboard in what she could make out, as a black, drying-out whiteboard pen.

MADONNA.

He wrote, as he dramatically did a boyband spin to face the club. "What comes to mind when you see that name?" He asked, pointing to Rachel to answer first.

"Genius," Rachel exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"Icon." Kurt chimed in afterwards.

Kurt turned to Dorothea, who thought of something off of the top of her head, "Sue Sylvester."

"Hall of Fame MILF." Puckerman exclaimed, nodding intensely.

"So, we're all aware of Madonna's musical and cultural significance, which is why this week, your assignment is to come up with a Madonna number." Schuester said, writing down the most needed information for this week on the whiteboard, gathering and soaking the rare applause he was receiving.

Puck frowned from where he was sitting, "Uh, Mr Shue? As a dude, Madonna makes me kind of uncomfortable."

"Yeah, she's smokin' and everything, but can't some of us do something else? Like the guy version of Madonna? Like, you know, Pantera?" Finn requested.

"Just suck it up, oh my God," Dorothea scoffed as Kurt hummed in approval from beside her.

"Guys! You know, it's come to my attention that many of you haven't been treating the young ladies of our group very nicely lately. You're disrespectful, bullying, sexist, and I hate to say it, misogynistic." Schuester went off.

"I have no idea what that means," Finn murmured inquisitively.

"When I pulled my hamstring, I went to a misogynist." Brittany softly spoke as Santana seemed to hold the blonde's hand gently.

"What it means is, put yourself in their shoes for a change. Culturally, Madonna's legacy transcends her music, because by and large, the subtext of her songs is about being strong, independent and-and confident, no matter what your sex. But more than anything, Madonna's musical message is about equality. And that is something I ink you guys need to work on." Schuester explained as at least four of the guys had fallen unto a state where they completely tuned out Schuesters words.

Kurt raised his hand, "Mr Shue, I don't think we can have an honest conversation about Ms Ciccone without acknowledging that her images are as indelible as her songs. I would like to honour her contributions by tackling a multi-media project. With Mercedes and Dorothea."

Dorothea widened her eyes as he looked from Kurt to Schue and just nodded autonomously.

"Great. Go for it, Kurt!"

"I'm still not down." Puck sneered unwarrantedly, "And no chick intimidates Puckzilla. I just don't think her music translates to show choir."

"Really? Well I, for one, couldn't disagree more." Rachel confidently boasted. Rachel then made her way to the band and whispered something to them, as she began to sing Express Yourself by Madonna, the remaining girls in the room become increasingly excited and joined in with the song.

***

Dorothea stood with Mercedes by Kurt's locker and Schuester approached the trio, as if he were one of their friends, "Hey guys. How's the assignment coming along?"

"Oh, amazing. You know how Madonna kind of reinvented the video, right? Well, we got Artie and the A/V Club to help out. We're gonna make a Madonna video of our own." Mercedes enthusiastically explained.

"Everything Mercedes just said. It's going super well." Dorothea awkwardly added on.

"It's going to be Madge-ical." Kurt referenced, the others going silent and completely unresponsive to this. "Madge— you know, Madonna's nickname? Okay, you three really got to get up to speed here."

Just as that, Sue stormed around the corner and up to Schuester, "Schuester! I heard a juicy little rumour that your Up With People rejects were doing some Madonna songs. Is that true?"

"Yeah, well, to be honest, Sue, I got inspired watching your Cheerios."

"Well, I have been waiting years to pay tribute to her, and you are not swooping in at the last minute to snatch her from my talons. Madonna belongs to me, and I will not be copied. It's in my contract. I want you to listen very closely. You can have your Barbra's and your Chers and your Christinas... and wow, I just lost my train of thought. You have so much margarine in your hair." Sue went on a tangent, as she slowly lost focus on her topic, endlessly gazing into the man's over-gelled hair.

Schue pinched the skin between his eyebrows, as he sighed, "Okay, first of all, my kids are doing Madonna. She's public domain, and there's nothing you can do about it. Secondly, enough with the hair jokes! Oh, by the way, how's the Florence Henderson look working out for you?"

The man seemed overjoyed with himself at that, as he stormed off, all confident, though, turning back around to snap another somewhat comeback o make himself seem cooler. "Oh, maybe you should try a new setting on your Flowbee. Oh, snap!"

Schuester left. Sue bit her lip, and she took a deep, calming breath in as she went on a mini rampage down the hall.

"Who else wants a piece of this, huh?!" She yelled, storming down the hallway, shoving a freshman out of her way into the locker.

***

Their plan was formed soon after Sue shoved a freshman into their locker.

As Dorothea was walking down the hallway with Tina to Sue's office to meet with Mercedes and Kurt, Artie passed by Tina.

"Hey girl," He casually said, not meeting the goth's eye, as Tina spun around and got up all in Artie's face.

"My eyes are up here!" She began, "Get out of my grill! I am a powerful woman, and my growing feminism will cut you in half like a righteous blade of equality!"

Tina stormed off, her arms raised above her head, as Dorothea just nodded. "What Tina said." She muttered to a shocked Artie, as she trailed off after the goth.

"I feel like a powerful woman after that," Tina beamed.

"You are, Queen T, you are," Dorothea muttered to the goth as they reached Sue's office.

"Don't die," Tina assured, as Mercedes pulled Dorothea beside her quickly.

"I'll try."

Sue was staring off into the galaxy of posters of herself and her achievements. Nothing else shows against those pale blue walls.

"Miss Sylvester, we'd like a word." Kurt said as the trio stood awkwardly near the entrance of the room.

"We saw how upset you got today." Mercedes sympathetically said as Sue looked over at them.

Sue's eyes seemed to be a void, as she moved her head to stare again once at the wall, her glasses sliding down her nose. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine."

"Typically, when someone says they're fine, they're not. We saw your face after Schuester insulted your hair." Dorothea quietly told her, as something seemed to snap gently inside of Sue.

"Close the door. Sit down." Sue instructed. Kurt and Mercedes took the two available chairs, and Dorothea grumbled at the thought of having to idly stand there.

Sue began to speak, stripping her glasses from her face, "You know, kids, I grew up with a handi-capable sister. My parents were famous Nazi hunters, so they weren't around a lot. I had to bring her up on my own. I didn't have a lot of time or money to keep up with all the latest looks." Sue looked down in almost shame, though quickly moving her head to look at them once more, "But on my sixth birthday, True Blue was released. An album that would later sell over thirty million copies. My sister and I took it upon ourselves to bleach my hair with whatever chemicals we could find around the house. Ammonia, napalm. My hair was so damaged, I've been forced to wear it short ever since. It's been a daily, ongoing pain."

"Wait, that would make you, like, thirty?" Mercedes asked, shocked, her tone strained ever so slightly.

"Twenty-nine," Sue lied, her voice strained. "And here's the truth: I mercilessly pick on Will Schuester's lustrous, wavy hair because I'm jealous. There, I said it."

"I think we can help.", Kurt offered, sincerely, "Mercedes is black; Thea is European, they're usually super fashionable; I'm gay. We make culture."

"Go on."

Kurt took a sharp, nervous breath as he began, "We're working on an exciting new project and would like to use the Cheerios. And we can help you find a new look."

"Interesting," Sue commented, as Kurt and Mercedes looked at each other, determined.

***

Artie and his A/V club were able to set up a film set, a replica of Vogue.

Despite three so-called social outcasts planning it, even a heavy amount of Sue's Cheerios took place in the video.

"Vogue, take one," Artie commanded, as one of his A/V club members clapped the clapperboard. "Sound speed... And action."

For hating the art, Sue's rendition of Vogue was pretty good. And despite everything Sue had done to the Glee club, Dorothea had found herself tolerating Sue more. Liking the woman more than she liked Schuester.

***

After Vogue, Dorothea once again stood by Kurt's locker with Mercedes and Kurt. "Our project was a triumph!" Kurt almost squealed, as he shut his locker quietly.

"A new Sue." Dorothea beamed, "Wait. Does that rhyme?"

"No, sweetie. It doesn't." Kurt gently patted her on the shoulder as her cheeks flushed up slightly in pure embarrassment.

"I wonder which look she's gonna rock." Mercedes pondered.

"Doesn't matter. They were all fantastic." Kurt gushed as he looked over Mercedes's shoulder, Sue made her way down the hall. "Oh, dear."

Dorothea was horrified as her jaw fell open at all of their hard work is useless, the effect of Vogue not displaying anything. "Oh no, no, no, no, no." Dorothea hesitantly murmured, as Sue nearly walked past them, supporting her usual hairdo, as short as always, the same solid, bright red tracksuit, this supported by her usual angry glare & frown.

"Miss Sylvester," Mercedes called to her, as she walked back to look down towards the three.

"Oh, hey, there, Whoopi, Don Knotts, Waterloo." Sue greeted them nonchalantly.

Mercedes shamefully scowled, "What happened?" her tone helpless and defeated.

"Well, I'll tell you what. All those costumes and the hairstyles, I'm gonna leave constant reinvention to Madonna. Know why? Had a revelation. See, kids, Sue Sylvester realised she didn't need to reinvent herself. She needs to reinvent everybody else, starting with you three." Sue pointed at the three in front of her, as Dorothea, Kurt and Mercedes shared unsatisfied looks of fear.

***

The quite rude boy, Jesse St James, who Dorothea met in the library was now standing at the front of the choir room, besides Mr Schue, who he looked oddly similar to.

"What the hell?! It seems like now everybody's doing things just to hurt my feelings!" Finn yelled as Jesse looked him up and down, unimpressed.

"I thought you all would take this news a little better. I'm a star. You can learn from me." Jesse confidently boasted, garnering a laugh from Dorothea which she tried to cover with a fake cough.

"I will smack you. Who even are you?." She managed to get out, as she looked away.

"All talk, no bite," Jesse smirked as he shook his head.

"We were already fighting for second leads. And now that you've shown up, I've lost all hope of ever getting a solo." Kurt scoffed.

Mercedes hummed in agreement, as she looked over to Schue, glaring at him, "Yeah, that's right. And y'all just trot me out at the end of every number so I can wail on the last note. How is that okay?"

"He's a spy, Mr Shue. I would know." Santana boredly stated.

Schuester seemed to try to justify himself, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys. I saw all the paperwork, I spoke with his parents..."

"They winter in Bali. It's a very expensive phone call." Jesse informed them as if they were a class of kindergarten pupils who didn't know anything.

"Rich," Dorothea said under her breath.

"You cannot talk, right now." Santana snapped towards her.

Schuester seemed disinterested in their protests, "Jesse just moved in with his uncle, which is in our school district. It's all above board, guys. He goes to this school now."

"But this isn't fair!" Artie argued.

"Guys!" Schuester yelled, "Everyone who's ever auditioned for this group has gotten in. That's how we do things here. Okay, to suddenly change the rules now, would be unfair."

Brittany raised her hand, "Mr Shue, is he your son?" Brittany honestly asked. Schuester seemed even offended by this, as he tilted his head to the right in pure confusion.

"I don't understand why you're doing this," Rachel asked Jesse.

Jesse looked at her, earnestly, as if she was the only person in the room full of judgemental teenagers and a middle-aged man, "Because when you love something, you got to go for it. You would never be with me completely if I were on the opposing team. And I care about you more than winning another national title. So I left Vocal Adrenaline. For you."

"All right, guys, we have got a lot of work to do. Jesse, great to have you here. Welcome aboard. Okay! from the top!" Schuester exclaimed.

The bell rang and the Glee club lessons were filled with antagonizing energy and Finn's death glaring Jesse was over.

"Dorothea. We need to talk." Quinn said to Dorothea, her bag on her back as she spoke, her hand resting gently though firm on her baby bump, as everyone else, except Kurt and Mercedes, had lingered behind waiting for the brunette.

"Go on, I need to talk to Quinn," Dorothea told them, her tone as flat as a straight line she was unable to have around the blonde in front of her. The girl she just waited for as if she'd just publicly declared their — love? Love was a strong word. Declare their feelings and their relationship status publicly.

"We have to sort out whatever this is—"

"Jesus Christ, Quinn Fabray. Whatever this is, I saw that ugly portrait with hearts scribbled all over it yesterday. You're not as subtle as you think you are," Dorothea snapped, as something overcame her from the midst of the air, filled with tension neither addressed. "That sounded mean. I'm sorry."

"I didn't think you saw that. Don't be sorry, you apologise too much."

The brunette eyed Quinn from top to bottom, scoffing at the stupidity. "I was sitting right behind you." She could almost laugh.

"You were," Quinn acknowledged.

"I was. I remember it all too well."

The silence could suffocate anything that came in its whirlwind of a path. Quinn tried to meet Dorothea's eye, who just shot to look over at Schuester's chipping off handwriting on the old whiteboard.