I couldn't believe my ears when Mr. Schuester told Mercedes to skip college and head to LA on the first bus after graduation. Especially after the big deal they made about everybody else going to college - even Finn who ought to thank his lucky stars he has Burt's garage to run. But Mercedes should 'follow her dreams'. Bah!

"Are you sure the auditorium's free?"

"Look around. Nobody here." Mercedes pushed Artie across the empty stage.

"We can do this in the choir room." Mercedes said.

"Choir room? Mercy, you don't have an unlimited amount of time left. You don't get that many opportunities to dominate this stage as you rightfully should. Partially my fault."

"Oh Artie, just let West Side Story go. It's history, turn the page."

"Page turned." He picked up the guitar in his lap and handed it to her. "I'm going to go sit in the audience. If you're so convinced you're going to LA instead of college you might as well get used to singing on the street, hopefully earn enough to pay for a night at the Y."

"Artie, you heard Mr. Schuester. Cream rises to the top."

"That ain't all that's floating on the top." She pushed his chair with her hip. "Listen Mercy, you're good. The best. Better than Miss Priss he keeps shoving to the front of the stage. But let's get real, how many girls with great voices jump off the Greyhound bus everyday in LA? Whitney Houston had Cissy Houston and Aretha Franklin to show her around. Mariah Carey worked as a waitress before she latched onto that rich guy. Least you could learn business, something to keep you fed and housed while you're rising to the top. You need a plan B."

"Schuester said..."

"You know how many tragedies start with Schuester said?"

"Just go listen! Somebody's got this place booked, they're just late." She tuned the guitar while she waited for Artie to get in position.

"Okay, let 'er rip!"

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
As you lie in fields of gold

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

"Excellent." Artie called out from the darkness. "See what happens when you listen to me about guitar lessons. Easier than carrying around a keyboard. Next – At Last." Mercedes started playing and singing. "Eva!" he shouted.

"I'd doing Eva!" she yelled back.

"Don't lie to me woman! Not Etta, Eva!" Mercedes frowned and slowed the tempo a little, lowered the volume. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"

I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known.

Artie didn't notice the black woman who slipped into the seat next to him until she spoke.

"Hello." the woman said, staring at the stage.

"Hey!"

"So her name is Eva?"

"No, it's Mercedes. I'm trying to teach her the difference between Eva Cassidy and Etta James."

"Why?" Now she studied the black-haired boy in the wheelchair.

"Because our incompetent coach," he paused "ummm, you're not here to offer Will Schuester a job, are you?"

"No, some other business."

"Okay. This teacher, who's supposedly an adult and should know better, told her to skip college and run off to LA. I told her she better get used to dumpster diving."

"A voice like that, she won't be dumpster diving, assuming she's got family or friends there who'll let her sleep on their sofa for a couple of years while she builds a reputation. She can do Etta James?"

"In her sleep. Etta!" he yelled.

"Oh, now you want Etta, do you?" She launched into that.

"Wow, that's spectacular. What else can she do?"

"Ella!" Artie yelled.

"Ella? What am I, a human jukebox?"

"You know you can do it. People are going to make you earn those quarters. That's why folks go to college girl, so they don't have to depend on quarters to pay the rent."

Mercedes started singing again.

"She's phenomenally good." The woman said. "You don't often hear that kind of versatility."

"You want Elvis Costello too, while we're on the E's?" Mercedes asked sassily.

"No thank you." The woman said. "But I'm sure you could do it."

"Who is that?" Mercedes jumped off the stage, suddenly embarrassed.

"Ms. Tibideaux." The woman offered her hand. "I'm the dean of NYADA. I'm supposed to meet a couple of students here." She looked at her paperwork. "Rachel Berry and Kurt Hummel."

"Oh! They're both so good!" Mercedes gushed.

"So good!" Artie repeated with all the enthusiasm he could muster.

"And it's so not like them to be late."

"So not like them." Artie repeated. Mercedes shot him a dirty look. He pulled out his phone and shot off a text.

"Why didn't you apply to NYADA?" Ms Tibideaux asked.

"Me? I'm not nearly as good as they are."

"But yet you're thinking of skipping college to try to make it in show business? Do you realize how brutal that is? The money's in songwriting. You know how much money Dolly Parton made from Whitney Houston?"

"Dolly Parton?"

"She wrote I'll Always Love You. Every time it gets played on the radio, kaching! And the songwriter doesn't have to go on tour. Touring's fun for about a minute. Songwriters just sits back and waits for the check to come in the mail. If you can write half as well as you sing you'll make a fortune. That's how college is useful, leaning that kind of information."

"My teacher said cream rises to the top." She said stubbornly.

"It does. Eventually. But in the meantime what are you supposed to do?"

They all turned to face the clatter at the back door as Rachel, Kurt and their entourage came in.

"I'm sorry that we're late." Rachel said. "We're not late, are we?" She could have sworn that had another 15 minutes.

"No, not at all." Ms. Tibideaux replied. "I'm early. In the meantime Mercedes has been keeping me entertained."

Rachel didn't look entirely happy about that.

"Good luck, guys!" Mercedes said standing up.

"Aren't you staying?" Kurt asked, shifting from one foot to the other. Blaine put a steadying hand on his arm and was rewarded with a dazzling smile from Kurt.

"No, I don't want to make you nervous. Besides, I need to go to the library and do some research on songwriting. Nice to meet you, Ms. Tibideaux."

"No, the pleasure was all mine." She made notes in her book as Mercedes walked away.

Fields of Gold - Eva Cassidy's cover of Sting's song

At Last - it's from 1941 and has been covered by everybody. In this case Etta James (1960), Eva Cassidy (2000), Ella Fitzgerald (1983) and Elvis Costello (2003)