A/N: Hi! This is just an idea I had late one Monday night. I was thinking about My Name Is Earl and Glee and this is what I've come up with. I'm trying out a new writing style for this story so I'm sorry if it doesn't exactly look right. I tried to write like I imagine Puck would think. I don't know if I've succeeded. Please tell me what you think and whether or not I should continue with this story! Here you go, enjoy.
I used to be in Glee Club. I know, right? Fuckin' crazy.
The even crazier thing is that I kind of miss it.
I, Noah Puckerman, actually used to sing and dance across a stage lit with bright lights, in front of an audience of doting mothers and strange, show-choir obsessed directors. Things were pretty easy back then. The worst I ever did was toss a few dweeps in dumpsters. After that, things started to go down hill.
It all started with a brief stint in Juvy. That changed it all. I tried to deny it at the time because Mum was crying at every moment, struggling with the bills and my little sister. You know, the usual shit. I wasn't ready to admit that I'd practically seen my future. I was a delinquent – and I wasn't going to change anything about myself from then on.
I stayed out of trouble for a couple years. I was even working a proper part-time job at Sheets N' Things.
A few scrapes with the law and I was in jail again. Not Juvy this time. No, I mean real jail. It wasn't high security or anything – I'm not a fuckin' psycho murderer. But a year in jail was enough to set me on the right track. At least, I think it was.
I'm back in Ohio now. The taxi guy just told me so. I'm not allowed to drive anymore, which is kinda shit, but hey, what can you do? I'm a convicted felon. I'm not allowed to drive the ol' pick-up truck. Not even to the local store.
I wonder what the fuck ever happened to the rest of that stupid Glee Club. New Directions… yeah, that was it. There were a couple of dweebs there, but I mostly liked 'em. Artie, I think, was a cool dude.
There was a girl named Rachel. Rachel… Berry. Yeah, I remember now. Real fuckin' obnoxious with a huge-ass nose. But shit, man. I'm not kidding you when I say that that girl has the voice of an angel.
I knocked up a girl called Quinn back in the sophomore year. I didn't even feel real awkward about it afterwards. I mean, back in senior year when we took Nationals we even slept together again. That was because she was vulnerable, though. Finn – my old best friend, I guess – and Rachel had been together a year that day. They were going to New York together after Graduation. Quinn and I were Ohio-bound.
Forever.
Seriously, I don't think I'll ever leave.
Maybe, I'll start up my pool-cleaning business again. Get some M.I.L.F's over and try and remember the good times.
I'm on my street. The taxi driver didn't tell me that, of course. Hell, if the guy had said that, I'd be sketching it. But I can see the pick-up out the front by mum's Gardenias. Caitlin's waiting for me on the front porch in her stupid Cheerio's uniform. She's sixteen now. She's not in the Glee Club, though. I mean, who can blame her? The club wasn't exactly hot shit when I was in it and it's apparently even worse now.
My teacher, good ol' Mr. Schue, thought he could bring it out of the ashes. Truth be told, New Directions sorta crumbled like week-old dog shit when Rachel Berry went to live in the big apple.
I secretly hope that she made it big. That Kurt kid too, I guess. He's got potential. Finn, however, probably flunked out of college after a year. I can imagine him - the average of some average car dealership. Maybe he and Rachel got married. Maybe he dumped her again because her nose kept getting in the way when they were making out - or she wouldn't let him touch her boobs or something.
Fuck, I've missed boobs.
The taxi driver pulls over and I hand him the fare. I could've just taken off without paying, like I used to, but I'm trying this new thing where I actually pay for shit.
I spent a lot of time alone in jail. And when I'm alone, I tend to actually function to my full potential. I think about stuff from time to time. One of the things that continually crossed my mind as I sat in the prison cafeteria was this simple fact: I don't wanna be a fuck up like my father.
So, there you go. That was kinda my revelation.
I get out of the cab and Caitlin comes to hug me. Her arms wrap around my waist and I hold her tight, never wanting to forget the feeling. I haven't hugged anyone in a year. I've missed my mum and my little sister so much that it hurts.
Caitlin untangles herself and looks up at me, her eyes the same hazel colour as my own. "You look pretty old, Noah."
I nod.
I think that prison changes people; both in appearance and wisdom. I'm pretty fuckin' wise now, if I do say so myself. And I do. Say so myself, I mean.
I'm going to change. Because, well…
You know the kind of guy who does nothing but bad things and then wonders why his life sucks? Well, that was me. Every time something good happened to me, something bad was always waiting round the corner: Karma. That's when I realized that I had to change, so I made a list of everything bad I've ever done and one by one I'm gonna make up for all my mistakes. I'm just trying to be a better person. My Name is Noah Puckerman.
