The song they're singing is Hey Now, by Augustana. A great song by a great band that needs way more air time, if I do say so myself.

There is a small sliver of time during the school day when Sue or her Cheerios aren't using the choir room: the few minutes after the start of first period, when the Cheerios still have an hour to stumble into McKinley with coffee cups in hand and Sue is making her rounds elsewhere in the school. Her first period is an exit, usually spent with her mom starting to prepare the food for the lunch rush, but lately Marley has used that precious bit of no-nonsense to stare longingly outside the door into the room.

Hardly anything is the same. Whatever slips of silk the Cheerios were practicing for their Cirque de Soleil routine—Marley still wasn't quite sure how Sue was able to do something like that without anyone coming after her; perhaps it was because she was Sue Sylvester?—were still hanging from hooks on the ceiling, but she could still see the cabinets that had once held trophies inside glass cases. Before, she would look at all of those gleaming trophies, and she would see the names and dates of each New Directions win, imagining a thousand more seated beside them. Before, she would look at the lady in the frame by the door and imagine what it must have been like, creating something out of nothing.

Everything is Before now.

Marley presses her hand against the glass, wondering how long her handprint will stay there—probably until the janitor comes to wipe it away with a quick flick of his wrist, or until an overly anxious pair of teenagers grind against it in their attempts to eat each other's faces off first. She knows she only has minutes, and so she tries to look in and drink it up. She might be outside looking in, but she can still remember what it was like to sit in that room, to sway with the music, to fumble with sheets of paper that bit her fingers, to feel a sense of belonging.

It was all Before, and she hated herself for it.

She feels him approaching before she sees him come toward her. Marley meets Jake's curious expression with an abashed one of her own, and she pulls slightly away from the door, clutching herself tightly. (There's hardly anything to hold on to, she's a wisp, but there's still that feeling that there could be even less.) "It's the only time I can look without having anyone stare."

He pretends not to know what she's talking about, shrugging his shoulders. "Just wondering why you weren't with your mom."

Her only reply is a shrug back, because somehow "I didn't want to" falls flat even in her head.

He looks between her and the entrance to the choir room a few times before easing his way between her, tugging at the doorknob and pushing his weight against the door. It takes a few tries, but perhaps someone forgot to lock it all the way, or maybe Jake joining basketball had improved his strength; the door swings open with a crash, and Jake only just manages to find his balance before straightening up with a grin on his face. "I meant to do that."

It makes her giggle, which might have been his strategy all along: there's a good-natured gleam in his eyes that makes her smile, even after the laughter has faded away.

Both of them take a few precious seconds to look around the room, not at all empty but lacking the parts they remembered best: the chairs that always seemed to never quite be in the same spot five seconds after they looked, the room full of smiling and supportive people.

"Feels weird, even though we weren't here very long," he muses, turning back to Marley. But she's already looking down with her eyes squeezed shut, wrapping herself even tighter in her embrace.

"Woah, hey." He sounds alarmed, but Marley has hardly any time to note this before she feels a pair of strong arms wrap around her, pulling her close to his body. "I mean compared to those other idiots. I mean. Damn it," he hisses, and it's only just loud enough for Marley to hear, and even then it's because she's so close to him.

"I just feel like it's all my fault," she whimpers, and nuzzles into him. He doesn't move away, instead hugging her tighter.

His voice tickles her ears, and it takes her a moment to realize that he's not saying anything; he's singing, and the noise makes her toes curl just the slightest bit even though they shouldn't, she's feeling absolutely miserable.

It isn't a song she recognizes, but the melody is nice, and after he sings the chorus and another verse she hums a harmony to match, letting him take care of the words.

Hey, now, we're bleeding for nothing
It's hard to breathe when you're standing on your own
We'll kill ourselves to find freedom
You'll kill yourself to find anything at all

They take a moment after that, and she pulls just far enough away from Jake to look into his eyes. He raises a hand to cup her cheek, and they start to lean into each other—

"Oi, Pork Chop and Bright Eyed Girl," a sharp voice sounds, and Jake and Marley turn around to see Sue glaring at them. "Who gave you permission to be in my rehearsal space?"

"Me and a few other friends," Jake retorts back at her. He's already grabbed Marley's hand and started to walk out the door.

"Didn't think you had friends," Sue snidely remarks.

"Yeah. Myself and I." By that point the two of them are already running down the hall, both of them laughing. They don't stop until they get closer to the cafeteria, when there's a fairly good chance that Sue has decided not to chase after them. (If she had, she would have caught them, and both of them would have been in serious trouble.)

"We shouldn't have, done that," Marley says, panting.

"Sure we should've," Jake says, seemingly not winded at all. Jerk. "I mean, it might've been the last time we could've gone in there. Actually, it probably will be the last time."

"Yeah, she'll probably have guard dogs stationed at the front entrance when she can't be there herself," Marley says.

It occurs to both of them around the same time that they're still holding hands, but neither one of them makes a motion to change that. "What was that song we were singing, anyway?"

"Forget the name of it, but I heard it on Pandora a few days ago. Been stuck in my head ever since."

"It's nice," she says softly. "We should try and find it again."

"Well, I don't have anywhere else to be," Jake says. He fishes out his phone and a pair of earphones, offering one to Marley with a small smile. "Wanna try and find it now?"

They slide down onto the floor, their backs against the wall, huddled next to each other. It's the first time in a while she can think about After.