[OPEN: EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD - DAY. The cheerleading squad, the Cheerios, are practicing routines. They are being watched and timed by SUE SYLVESTER, their coach. One of the cheerleaders falls from the top of the formation.]
The chaos of the Cheerios' morning practice filled the football field. Sharp moves, barked orders from Sue Sylvester, and synchronized flips were the norm. Sue paced along the turf, visor low, bullhorn in hand.
"You think this is hard? Try being waterboarded. That's hard."

From the bleachers, Elena Williams sat quietly, her dark cobalt jacket zipped halfway, watching the practice with unreadable green eyes. She was new here—not just to McKinley, but to the whole concept of school.
Lima, Ohio was never meant to be permanent. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine had told her to lie low after her last mission in Prague went sideways. With millions in offshore accounts from her mercenary jobs and combat training that rivaled the best of SHIELD and HYDRA's assets, Elena could've been anywhere in the world. Instead, she was here. Pretending to be sixteen. Pretending to be normal.
She was still getting used to the weight of her alias. Elena Williams, an orphan on paper. In truth, she was Svetlana Nova Romanoff-Barnes, born in secret to two of the most dangerous people alive: Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes. A hybrid of the Red Room, HYDRA, and whatever experiments they injected into her in the womb.
Today was supposed to be simple. Blend in. Do the paperwork. Smile a little.
But she wasn't ready for what happened next.
"Hey! New girl!"
Elena blinked and looked over as three cheerleaders broke from formation and sauntered toward her: Quinn Fabray, Brittany S. Pierce, and Santana Lopez. She recognized them instantly—their flirtatious smiles, the way they moved together like a practiced trio. They were the same girls from the party, the ones who had kissed her, touched her, tangled in limbs and heat in a room full of secrets and red solo cups. But the way they looked at her now—curious, intrigued, oblivious—told Elena they didn't recognize her.

Quinn led the pack, every step radiating command. Brittany's warm smile softened the edges, while Santana's eyes practically undressed Elena on sight.
"You're Elena, right?" Quinn said, one hip cocked, chin raised. "Coach Sylvester told us you used to do competitive gymnastics."
"Among other things," Elena said, her voice calm, measured.
"Coach mentioned gymnastics on your transfer paperwork," Brittany chimed in, eyes wide. "She wants you to come down later and show her what you can do."
Elena followed the three girls off the bleachers and onto the field, curious where this was going. Then Sue saw Elena.
"You! Red boots! Come here!"
Elena complied.
"You ever flip before?"
Without a word, Elena did a cartwheel, a handspring, an aerial, and landed silently on the turf in front of the team.
Sue blinked. "You're on the team. Practice is Monday. Come get fitted for your Cheerios uniform."
Elena offered a small smile, masking the storm inside. "Sure."
Sue squinted at her. "That's it? No squealing, jumping for joy, hugging your new besties?"
Looking slightly confused and almost innocent, Elena asked, "Was I supposed to squeal or hug you or something?" Then she straightened, her tone flat again. "You gave an order. I followed it."
Sue smiled. "God, I love this kid."
"Very bendy," Santana added with a smirk.
Brittany stepped a little closer, eyes dreamy. "Do you like cats?"
"Depends on the cat."
"Cool," Brittany nodded, then just... stared. Santana gently tugged her back.
"Later, new girl," Quinn said with a wink, and the trio turned away.
Elena watched them go, wondering if Val had predicted this part.
[CUT TO: EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY. WILL SCHUESTER drives in and parks his clunky car. He approaches a dumpster where a group of jocks including NOAH "PUCK" PUCKERMAN and FINN HUDSON are surrounding KURT HUMMEL.]
The clang of car doors and distant shouting cut through the warm morning haze in the McKinley High parking lot.
Will Schuester pulled into the staff lot in his dented Toyota Corolla, the tailpipe rattling like it might give out at any second. He stepped out, straightening his mismatched tie, and made his way toward the school entrance. He passed the dumpsters without much thought—until he caught sight of the gathering.
A small group of football players, including Noah "Puck" Puckerman and Finn Hudson, had cornered a slighter boy near the dumpsters. Kurt Hummel stood tall despite the odds, his designer jacket clutched nervously.
Will offered a casual smile as he passed. "Making some new friends, Kurt?"
Puck grinned wide, all malice wrapped in mischief. "He sure is, Mr. Schue."
Will nodded, unfazed. "Hey, Finn, you still owe me that report on qué hace el verano pasado."
Finn blinked. "What?"
Will smirked. "What you did last summer."
"Almost halfway done with almost all of it, Mr. Schue," Finn answered quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Will moved on, footsteps echoing on the concrete.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Puck clapped his hands. "It's hammer time."
"No, no, please—!" Kurt pleaded, his voice cracking. "This is from Marc Jacobs' new collection!"
"Wait." Finn held up a hand. The others paused.
Kurt looked at him hopefully.
Finn sighed, then held out his hand. Kurt reluctantly removed the designer jacket, folding it carefully and passing it over.
"Okay," Finn said.
Without another word, Puck and the other jock grabbed Kurt and hurled him into the dumpster. The metallic clang echoed across the lot.

Finn looked down, visibly uneasy.
From a distance—unseen by the boys—Elena watched.
She stood at the edge of the parking lot near the school steps, one hand tucked into her jacket pocket. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes followed every move with surgical precision.
She had seen things far crueler than a dumpster toss. But that didn't mean she approved of it.
Her fingers flexed slightly, the webbing glands beneath her wrists tingling with potential energy. She considered stepping in—but held herself back. She was supposed to blend in. Lay low. No incidents.
And yet... her gaze lingered on Finn, cataloguing the hesitation in his movements, the discomfort in his eyes. He hadn't stopped it—but he hadn't smiled through it either.
Interesting.
She waited a beat, then crossed the lot. The jocks had already scattered, laughing and heading for the school building like nothing had happened. Elena reached the dumpster, leaned over the edge, and extended a hand.
"Need a hand?"
Kurt looked up, startled, his perfectly styled hair slightly mussed.
"Who... oh. Uh, yes. Please."
With surprising ease, she grasped his wrist and helped hoist him out.
"Thanks," he said, brushing himself off, trying to hide the embarrassment in his eyes.
"You good?"
"Physically? Yes. Emotionally? We'll see."
Elena gave the faintest ghost of a smile. "You handled it better than most would."
Kurt blinked, caught off guard by the compliment, then nodded, adjusting his now slightly wrinkled Marc Jacobs jacket.
She turned on her heel and headed toward the building, leaving before Kurt could say anything more.
This place was going to be exhausting.
[CUT TO: INT. GUIDANCE COUNSELOR'S OFFICE - LATER.]
The guidance counselor's office smelled like lemon disinfectant and anxiety. Emma Pillsbury sat across from Elena, shuffling papers.
"I know your transcript's... colorful," Emma said kindly. "But we think you'll do well here, and your guardian—Valentina? She ensured your housing was all set."
"Yeah, she doesn't do half-measures," Elena said dryly.
Emma glanced at her, curious. "You don't have any family?"
Elena hesitated.
"No," she lied.
But her mind flashed to the pictures she kept hidden in the false bottom of her backpack. One: her father, Bucky, half his face the Winter Soldier mask, eyes cold, lost. The other: a newborn baby—her—wrapped in a Red Room issued blanket, held tightly against the chest of a tear-stained Natasha Romanoff, caught by some hidden camera before they took her away.
"Well," Emma said gently, pulling Elena back to the present. "You're enrolled now. Tryouts for Glee Club are open if you're interested. Or art club. Or... cheerleading."
"Already got recruited," Elena said.
Emma blinked. "Of course you did."
Elena shifted, then added with a dry edge, "To be honest, I wasn't sure I could say no. Coach Sylvester is... intimidating. I figured saying no might just get me tackled."
She paused, trying to remember how a normal teenager might say it. "Or, I don't know—do normal girls hug when they make the squad?"
Emma smiled gently, but her eyes softened further with concern. "You have... limited social experience, don't you?"
Elena hesitated, then nodded faintly. "Valentina got me out of a bad situation. She says I need to make friends. Be around kids my own age. Try being... normal."
Emma nodded thoughtfully. "She's right. You deserve that chance. It may feel strange now, but you're already doing it, showing up, talking to people. That matters." She paused, then added with a supportive smile, "And to help with that... I'm making Glee Club mandatory for you. It's social, it's expressive, and it might be just what you need."
Elena blinked, her brows knitting. "What the hell is Glee?"
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