Totally AU. Based on Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist.
The late morning sun creeped in through the windows. Oasis' "Wonderwall" was blasting through his Macbook while the mix he was making was burning into the CD. He stared at his phone which was on his nightstand. He'd been calling her. Leaving her messages. Eight messages. All of them trying to reach out to her. Puck picked it up and wandered to the section of wall which had pictures of them taped to the wall with duct tape. And next to that were posters of his favorite bands, Vampire Weekend, The Cure and most namely Where's Fluffy.
Of course Santana wasn't at the other end and it went to voicemail. Puck already memorized it in his head. "Hey, this is Santana. Leave a message after the beep."
Beep.
"Um, hey San. This is Puck. Um, you're probably still at school 'cause it's three. Yeah. I took a personal…I took a personal day. I just had to work on some things." He glanced at his Macbook which was now blasting "The Lovers Are Losing" by Keane. He made his way across to his room and sat down in front of the Macbook. "Yeah. Um, I just called. You know, I just called to…call. It's funny, I saw you. Actually I was driving past your school and I saw you. With a guy, I think. Um, it's been a month since I saw you. Since our break up. Break up. I made a mix…I made a mix for you. I left it at your door. Um, in the mailbox actually. Um, just so you know that…that it's gonna be the last…the last one I'll be making for you. More or less. So umm, I was just hoping you'd call me back." Please call me back. He added in his mind. "So yeah, um, call back. I hope you're doing great. Have a great life. I'm doing great. I'm doing fine. Do something fun, just…just do something fun. Yeah. Um, call me when you get a chance. Okay, yeah, um, bye." He ended the message.
An electronic female voice announced, "Your message has been deleted. If you wish to record another message, press 1."
"Dammit." Puck said and dropped his phone inside his drawer. He stared at the ceiling, not knowing what to do anymore.
At an all-girls catholic school somewhere…
Classes ended and Quinn Fabray skipped out of history class, earphones intact and listening to Two Door Cinema Club's "What You Know". She danced all the way to her locker as the rest of the students from the all-girls catholic school poured into the halls and getting ready to party for the rest of the weekend. She unlocked her locker and jammed and swayed. She didn't even notice her best friend Brittany Pierce call her name from across the hall. "Quinn! Quinn!" Brittany called in an abnormally chipper tone.
Quinn only turned around when Brittany slapped her butt. Quinn turned around with an embarrassed smile on her face. Brittany's face was ecstatic. "It's Friday pumpkin!"
"Do you mind 'cause I'm in my zone." Quinn said. Listening to Two Door Cinema Club always made her feel better.
"Oh you're in your zone? Really? I'm sorry? What?" Brittany asked playfully, trying to yank Quinn's earphones out.
"What? What? What?" Quinn said, doing some kind dance move that all those Disney characters do. When Brittany finally got them off, a lazy drawl startled them both. "Hey guys." It was Santana Lopez. Their not-so-best-friend.
"Hi." Brittany said.
"Hey San." Quinn said.
"He made another one." Santana said with a very amused smile and held up a CD, with it's own casing. "Look at the cover art." She said mockingly as if what she was holding was a dildo that she was going to give as a Christmas present. The cover was a doodle of a city skyline with "Santana" in cursive and with stars and hearts all over. Somehow Quinn seemed offended. She thought it was pretty cute. Santana rolled her eyes and tossed it in a nearby garbage can. Quinn stared longingly at the CD. Brittany instantly knew what she was going to do. "Quinn. No. Don't do it. " She warned but Quinn reached in and rescued the poor thing from it's misery. She held it up for Brittany to see the masterpiece which the world was never going to know which was now in her hand.
"What? He makes the best mixes." She said. "Aw, look at the cover art. Santana doesn't know what she gave up." She marveled at the cover art and inspected the inside. On the CD was a just red and yellow scribbles with the word Closure Vol. 6 written with a black Sharpie. "Closure volume six? Poor schmuck."
"Are you in love with this guy 'cause it's ridiculous."
"No I'm not. I've never met him, I don't even know who he is. I'm just gonna put this in my iPod." She complained and stashed it in her bag.
"Okaay. Whatever." Brittany said and they walked out the door. For four months now, their not-so-best-friend Santana had been seeing some guy from Hoboken. He made all these mixes for Santana and Santana just tossed them in the trash, which Quinn recovered and put into her iPod. If she ever met this magical guy that Santana had thrown in with the rest of her Santana pass-alongs, she'd probably dancing in heaven right now. One-half of her iPod's songs were Santana's mixes and all Santana ever said that they were lame. Quinn knew that this guy was so hung up on Santana because this guy just went from The Cure to Green Day in one mix. If one of his mixes go to Johnny Cash to some lame Top 40 song, then she'd go straight to this poor schmuck's house, slap him silly and ask him what the fuck is wrong.
Back at Puck's house…
Puck was planning on making a "Going To Kill Myself" mix when there were annoying honks outside his house. Puck instantly knew who it was. He rolled his eyes and opened his window to see that a bruise-colored, graffiti-covered van roll down the road and crash into his driveway, knocking into garbage cans. It made a loud crash. Loud indie rock music blasted from the van. Blaine Anderson climbed out and looked up the window while Sam Evans cleaned up the trash which was now on the driveway.
"Was that always there?" He complained to Puck. "Sorry." He apologized.
"Yeah. That's where we put the garbage." Puck said. Puck signaled that he was coming downstairs and greeted the duo outside. "Yo."' He drawled. Both of them said yo back. "I'm not going." He announced. Their band got a gig at a club in the city and Puck was calling it quits. "What?" Blaine said as if he hadn't heard.
"I'm calling in sick. I can't go."
"It's sold out Puck." Sam added. (Note: Sam is gay in this one. Blaine and Sam are.)
"This is a big night for us Pucky Puck. This is the first gig that we're gonna have with our new name!" Blaine called.
"Yeah! As the The Warblers!" Sam said. "And we found our drummer."
Puck's face lifted up. "You found a drummer?"
Sam held up a drum toy thing for kids. Puck frowned. "That's a toy." Puck crossed his arms. "Okay guys. Thanks for stopping by."
"Pucky Puck, we love you okay but you've been depressed for over a month now and it's not cool anymore. So get your clothes on, we're going to do the gig and we're gonna find you something better okay?" Both Blaine and Sam knew how heartbroken and sappy he was. They've been trying to get Nick to come to the shows and came up with nothing. They hated the guts of Puck's ex and referred to her as "something" or "thing" which Puck always found disturbingly amusing in a way.
"Someone better." Sam corrected Blaine. Blaine nodded. "Right, right."
"It's not that easy guys. You don't know what it's like to be straight. It sucks."
Just when the guys were about to lose hope in getting Puck to come, the radio announcer blasting from the car said, "For those indie rock bands out there and fans of Where's Fluffy, for the first time since their last time, looks like Fluffy is to be found once again, somewhere in the five boroughs. Tonight. The rarest show on earth is rumored to go after hours, so keep your eyes out for those little white never know where they might be." Then all three of them started freaking out. Blaine took Puck's face and said, "Fluffy. You can't let Fluffy down."
"Okay, fine." Puck said and both of them cheered. "Okay! Let's get this show on the road."
"I'm taking my own car." Puck said as he closed the door behind him as Blaine and Sam got in their van.
"Okay, whatever!' Blaine shouted as they backed out the driveway and went down the road. Puck sighed. At least there was one good thing going on today.
Tonight was going to be special.
Back at the all-girls catholic school…
"Oh my god! Greyson just texted me! Where's Fluffy is putting on a surprise show in the city tonight!" Brittany said. Quinn's ears shot up. "What? Oh my god!" Quinn was now bouncing up and down. Where's Fluffy was her favorite band of all time and they were gonna put on a surprise show somewhere in the city. She'd be crazy not to go.
"Okay, we're so going to that." Brittany said. Quinn was the one who hooked Brittany to the band and that band was their shoulder to cry on. "Last time they put on a surprise show it was in the Red Lady Lounge. We should start there." Brittany said. As they bounced down the steps, Quinn could only remember the last time they went to a show with some queercore rockers. There was plenty of alcohol and Brittany was always the one to get drunk and Quinn was always the one who would take her home but if she couldn't keep an eye on Brittany, she'd go and wander off. Shit. But now that "if" they were going to a Where's Fluffy show, it would be ten times worse. Brittany, has more than once left Quinn alone.
"But you have to promise me that you won't get drunk and leave me alone the whole night." Quinn made her vow.
Brittany looked puzzled. "When have I ever done that?"
Quinn shot her a shocked look.
"Britts." Santana came skirting up to them. "So Who's Fluffy is playing a show tonight. I love that band."
"It's Where's Fluffy." Quinn corrected her. "Not Who's Fluffy."
Santana rolled her eyes. Of course she wouldn't even give a flying fuck about it that she didn't even know what name was the band she loved. "Whatever. So I'm bringing this guy who's been, like, stalking me in the mall and stuff."
"I bet he's another one of your victims." Quinn said out loud. She was already praying for the poor guy.
"I bet your dad's macking out with another woman." Santana shot back. Quinn's chest tightened. She had to go there.
Brittany could sense Quinn's discomfort. "Okay guys. Stop it."
"Whatever. I was only kidding. God…you're so sensitive." Santana commented. Quinn could feel herself shrinking. Santana shrugged. "Okay. Talk to you guys later." She turned on her heel and sashayed out of their sights.
"Why do you humor her?" Quinn hissed once Santana was out of ear shot.
"She's not that bad. We grew up together. Just don't let her ruin your night."
Quinn could only roll her eyes. Quinn knew that Santana was just going to suck the soul out of that poor guy and get away with it like everything else she does.
"Fluffy! Fluffy!" Brittany started to chant and then they chanted "Fluffy" all the way to their car.
At the Red Lady Lounge (sounds glamourous but actually isn't)…
Puck pressed his fingers into the chords. Harder than he would actually allow. The Warblers. Whoever came up with that has seriously got some issues. He hadn't dressed properly either. He got on his favorite pair of jeans, the black one, slim fit and bleach stained, a shirt, his dark blue hood and his jacket which he named "Charlie" for some reason. Sam was pounding into the bass's strings and totally feeling the moment. Blaine was crazy. He was now wailing into the microphone as if he wanted everybody to hear him. "Screw him! Screw the man! Take my hand! And screw the man!" Blaine wasn't usually so suggestive to the lyrics as he was now but he took his shirt off and flung it at the crowd. "Screw the man! Take my hand! Let's screw the man!"
Puck scanned the crowd.
His heart sank. Shit. It was her. Dammit. He told her not to come. He told her not to come to any of his shows. Santana promised him she wouldn't but yet, here she was, dancing in the center with some college looking dude. He gritted his teeth. "Shit." He muttered. Now the song ended but the drum machine thing kept playing. "We're the Warblers!" Blaine announced one last time and jumped down the stage. The annoying artificial drum beat was still going. Since Puck was made equipment bitch for the night, he pressed a button on the thing but it just got louder. The crowd started booing.
"I don't know how to use this thing." He said to Sam.
Sam pulled out the cord and the music stopped.
Puck rolled his eyes and tried to distract himself.
Across the room, Quinn was eyeing the rhythm guitarist. He was cute. But the Mohawk was ridiculous. He was probably some douche. He looked almost annoyed or troubled or constipated. The minute they walked into the lounge, she went straight to the bar. No matter how much Quinn pleaded her to not get drunk, she shrugged her off and left her alone. Suddenly Brittany came up to her and put her drunken arm around her. She could smell the alcohol on her.
Brittany looked at her and to the direction where Quinn was looking and then back to Quinn.
"Oh my god you dirty little slut." She drawled playfully.
"What?" Quinn was taken aback.
"You're totally blowing him with your eyes."
"I'm…I'm not." Quinn objected. But her eyes were glued on to the guy as he walked down the stage. "You can't blow anyone with your eyes Britt. Well, maybe you can but…"
"He and his Mohawk are totally coming this way." Brittany said. The Mohawk dude walked past and Brittany pushed Quinn lightly so that they bumped into each other. "Sorry." Quinn muttered. The guy just gave her a small apologetic smile and walked away.
"That was really good." Brittany remarked sarcastically.
"C'mon Britt. You're drunk. Let's go." Quinn said, trying to pull her.
"Whatever. You're drunk." She said. A group of guys walked past and Brittany followed them and said in that drunkenly flirtatious way, "Hey guys. I've been looking at you. Were you looking at me?" Quinn rolled her eyes. She always had to get drunk.
Puck made his way to the bar where he spotted Blaine and some other guy. Probably a 'Mo. Yes. He was.
"Hey Pucky Puck. This is Kurt." Blaine introduced him.
"Hi."
Puck made a half hearted wave. "I'm Puck."
"Well, he's gonna help us find Fluffy." Blaine informed him. But Puck was looking at "something" else. "What's your problem?" Blaine pressed. Puck gestured to the couple dancing across the room and whispering intimately with each other. "She's here."
"But you told her not to come to the shows." Blaine said with a hint of disgust as he saw her.
"I did. She came anyway."
"Don't you think about going over there." Blaine warned him.
"I should go say hi. Or something."
"Dude. Seriously. Don't give in to temptation." Blaine said, pulling on his arm. Puck froze when the guy started kissing her neck. Puck gritted his teeth even harder. Shit. Why? Why in the world would she come here?
Quinn looked around. God. Brittany was gone again. Dammit. She was getting into serious trouble for this. Where the hell was Brittany? Then, Santana came over. "Oh hey Quinn! Alone again?" Shit. She already felt that her soul was sucked out being near Santana.
"Hey San. I've been looking for you everywhere." She monotoned.
Santana turned to he guy she was with. "This is Quinn. The girl I was telling you about. Do you have any friends that would be into her?"
Puck's eyes followed Santana, who was now talking to some pretty blonde girl, dressed in flannel. She looked worried and tired at the same time. Quinn caught Mohawked boy's eye but then Santana kept yapping. "You know what? That's okay. Thanks anyway." Santana was no use. She would be busy sucking face with him later.
"Okay, you know what? College boys. They would totally have better luck with you. You know, that's when guys really mature and get into stuff on like, how smart a girl is. It's not all about looks right?" Santana turned flirtatiously at her guy. "Right. Yeah." Quinn continued to monotone.
"But I guess Russell Fabray's daughter doesn't have to worry about looks." Santana challenged. Dammit. She HATED it when Santana went there. Santana has been pressing Quinn to find a guy and has been calling her out to do it. She's been sick and tired of hearing it.
"Um, I came here with someone actually." She said.
Santana's eyebrows went up as if she couldn't believe Quinn had gotten herself a date. "Oh really?"
"Yeah."
"Who?"
"My…my boyfriend." She stuttered. What a dead giveaway.
"Boyfriend…" Santana echoed skeptically.
"Yeah."
"Well, I guess you should be getting back to him now." Santana offered.
Quinn could feel the discomfort in her throat and reaching up all the way to her words. "Yeah…well, okay. I'm gonna go…see him." Quinn turned around and drifted around the bar. Dammit. What has she totally gotten herself into? She saw the Mohawked dude, just standing there next to his gay bandmate. Perfect.
"Hi." She said, sidling next to him. Just go for it. "Um, this is gonna sound weird but would you be my boyfriend for five minutes?" Quinn was biting her lip.
Puck raised his eyebrows. What did she just say? "What?" He asked.
Quinn spotted Santana who was eyeing them with a nasty smile. Quinn gave her the most polite smile she could ever muster in front of Santana. She pointed to the Mohawked dude and Santana guffawed. So far, this wasn't very convincing. Quinn turned to her "five minute boyfriend", her eyes pleading. "Just…just go with it." She said and leaned in to kiss him. At first, Puck didn't know what he was doing but he got into it. She was a VERY good kisser. Her lips were the softest lips Puck had ever kissed before. Even softer than Santana's.
They pulled away at the same time. Puck's heart pounded in his chest.
Quinn couldn't believe it. She just kissed a guy she just met. But she wasn't regretting it. Time seemed to freeze. What they were having now was a moment.
"Puck! Quinn! How do you two like, know each other?"
Puck almost choked. "What?"