A/N: Thanks to you guys who reviewed my last story, I really appreciate it! Though to the rest, if you're gonna put it on your favourite list, why not also review it? I'm just saying ;-)

Anyway, this is nothing like the previously posted Puckleberry story, because this is quite angsty and has a different style to it. Rachel and Puck might seem out of character, I don't know, but it's just because this is angsty stuff! Be sure to tell me what you think, good or bad (but do it nicely, please ;-) ) It's mostly about Puck but there's a lot of Puckleberry in it!

Something to know: Quinn didn't get knocked up, Puck isn't in love with her, Rachel and Puck didn't date. Everything else should be clear in the story.

Disclaimer: I'll never own the characters, and my almost-sis has stolen my precious CDs. Awesome.

A WORLD OF HEARTACHE

"So take my hand, love, there's burst inside our minds,

Feel my hands, love, 'cause I'm numb from the neck down,

And there is fire, love, on the balcony right here,

I can see out bodies burn but sense no fear."

"So your mouth tastes like sunshine, baby,

But your eyes are all cool buried in my arms,

And everything matters for a second as we fall to the ground."

-

-

It starts at the ending, yet at the first day of the rest of their lives.

He finds her crying alone outside the girls' bathroom right after high school graduation. Her cape is a mess, her dark hair is ruffled and she had black tears going down her cheeks. The total opposite of how everyone knows Rachel Berry.

When she spots him, her silent cries to into heartbreaking sobs, her whole body shuddering and shaking, and without a sound, he sits down next to her on the cold hard floor and waits until she's breathing normal again.

"You didn't get into Julliard?" he asks.

"No, I got in."

There's silence, except for two fellow graduates, who walk by them. They're still in capes and hats and are holding their diplomas in their hands proudly, chatting and laughing. She stares longingly at them long after they're out of sight.

"This about Finn?" he asks then and watches as her feathers harden within a second.

Her voice sounds dead as she says, "I'm pregnant."

"Oh." He stares at her, his eyes wide with surprise, and she avoids his gaze. "What are you gonna do?"

She shrugs wordlessly, her eyes dazed and still focused in the direction where the two carefree former students went. They sit there, not talking, but they both hear the unspoken words, 'what is there to do?'.

-

-

The summer after graduation is spent working a couple of hours every Monday to Friday at the car repair shop, until he can get a real job.

He sees her one day, sitting at the counter in the local supermarket in Lima, wearing the required blue collar shirt. She hands him the chocolate bars he bought and his change and wishes him a good day, her tired brown eyes staring right past him. When he comes back the next day, she's there again.

He guesses she's not going to Julliard.

A few days later, he's saying goodbye to his best friend, who's preparing for his big move to the big apple. He's got a scholarship to NYU, and Quinn is coming along.

When they hug goodbye, Finn whispers, "Take care of Rachel, okay man?"

He nods mutely, because he already planned to, and briefly wonders if his friend has any idea about how hard that is gonna be.

-

-

A few days into august he finds her waiting for him outside the garage one afternoon. She's sitting on the stairs to the entrance, clad in only a short skirt and sleeveless shirt. He still wonders if the goosebumps on her arms are from the cold breeze or something entirely different.

She follows him to his truck, and first when they've drove around for half an hour does she tell him, "I lost the baby." Her voice is devoid of any emotion, even when she asks, "Is it wrong that I'm happy?"

"No," he decides.

"It was for the best," she agrees as her hands grip the seatbelt, her knuckles turning white.

When they're at his house, he invites her inside, even if they aren't friends. They sit in completely silence at each of their end of the couch and watch 'That 70s Show', none of them laughing at the funny parts.

"It was for the best," she says again at one point, and he nods agreeing. "I'm eighteen," she continues. "I could never have been a mother."

"It was for the best."

The grateful smile she sends his way doesn't reach her eyes or makes her look the least bit happy.

She leaves the house about half an hour before his mom usually gets home after a meeting, and she sends him another sad smile at the doorway before walking home. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her small frame as she walks in the gloomy evening.

It's only when she turns the corner that he stops watching and goes back inside.

-

-

The day summer vacation is officially over, his mom tells him about the nice Jewish girl from their community. She got into Julliard, like she and her fathers had always planned, but then turned it down without an explanation. Her fathers were furious.

His mom's voice is hard with jealousy and soft with longing, "What a way to waste an opportunity."

He doesn't tell his mother about the baby and the miscarriage, about how life is sometimes bigger than education and New York and fame. He's not sure she's even told her fathers.

"How I wish you had gotten such a chance," his mom whispers.

But he didn't.

"Why can't we ever catch a break?" she questions, her fingers holding firmly onto the kitchen counter, her eyes closed in frustration and disappointment, and he forces himself to shrug and not wince at the look on his mother's face.

After that he applies to all the respectable places he can think of; assistant jobs, moving companies and even at the library. He hears nothing.

He continues to repair motors even after the summer is over.

-

-

One night, he gets in his truck, and he leaves Lima.

He has nothing with him but an apple, his mobile and a bit of cash, but he speeds the whole night, his eyes never once growing tired in the darkness. It's not important where he's headed; New York, Detroit, Chicago, he just keeps on driving, turning right when he feels like it, left another time.

It's like being completely alone in the world, but it's a nice feeling, because he's just free. Free from his hometown and his mother's expectations and the hopelessness he feels every time he sees Rachel Berry working at a supermarket.

Only when he's almost out of gas and money does he turns around.

The next morning he says good morning to his mom like always, and when she asks, if he had a good night's sleep, he lies, "Yeah."

-

-

The days blend together and before he knows it, six months has almost past since graduation, and there's snow on the road and the wind is bitingly cold.

He hasn't seen Rachel more than a few times since she came to him after losing the baby. There's a new girl sitting behind the counter at the supermarket.

So after a long shift, he gets in his car and doesn't take the turn down his street. Instead he continues until he's at the small white house.

She doesn't look surprised when she opens the door and he's standing there in his dirty work clothes.

"Puck," she says quietly, and she just looks tired, bags under her eyes and clad in a hoodie.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

This time they don't watch TV.

Instead he tells her about his plans for the future, how he wishes he'd gotten a football scholarship or maybe a scholarship from singing, so he could get out of this town. About how he hates looking at his disappointed mother, knowing he's failed her.

She cries about the boy she loves, who's with someone else, and the child she never wanted but misses, and all her dreams that she could have had but let go.

When he kisses her, she doesn't complain about the grease stains on his clothes or his oily hands, she just lets him.

-

-

His mom sends him disapproving looks every time he brings Rachel home.

He remembers a time, where she would pat his shoulder eagerly for bringing home a nice Jewish girl with such potential, and he could even imagine them sitting at the kitchen table together, talking excitedly about the importance of education and her dreams of becoming a star, and they would smile and laugh.

But Rachel doesn't smile much anymore, and all his mother sees when she looks at her is a future thrown out of the window, a future her son should have had instead.

"Your mother hates me," Rachel tells him one day, sitting in his bed with her legs crossed.

He doesn't bother disagreeing with her and says truthfully, "She heard about Julliard and how you turned it down, she thinks you're wasting your life."

"At least I'm working." She shrugs, even as her face turns sour, probably thinking about the huge difference between going to Julliard and her new job at the music store.

He still thinks it's a step in the right direction. "And it's still music, right?"

"Right."

She tries to smile but never really succeeds, and both of their eyes flicker to the guitar lying between them on the bed, as if it symbolises something much bigger.

They're both aware she's only doing it as a distraction, when she leans over and kisses him roughly, but he doesn't care, because he'd rather not think about the future either.

-

-

He meets Mr Schue on the street one afternoon, just after he got off from work. He looks like he always does, in dirty worn jeans and a white long-sleeved t-shirt filled with dark oil spots, but standing next to his classy dressed teacher, it suddenly feels like there's 'failure' written on his forehead because of it.

"Noah, hey!"

"Mr Schue, hey," he answers nonchalant, his voice empty of any emotion, as he tries to walk away but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"How are you doing, kid?" his old teacher asks with a smile.

He replies, "I'm exactly where I thought I would be," but he's not sure the other man gets that it's not a positive thing.

They drink coffee together even though he can't stand coffee, and Mr Schue tells him about the former Glee members; Tina and Artie, who are going to college together, Kurt, who's trying to break through in the designer business, and so on, and he smiles and nods even as he tries to block it all out.

"Hey, what happened to Rachel? Do you know? She got accepted into Julliard, didn't she? She's in New York?"

"She's here in Lima," he answers. "Working at HMV."

Mr Schue's face falls like what he said just might mean the end of the world.

-

-

In the middle of April, he gets a visit from Finn. He shows up at the house one of the days Rachel is over, and there's shock written on his face, that quickly turns to confusion and then something else.

"Puck? Rachel?" Finn frowns, his eyes snapping back and fourth between them, deep wrinkles appearing on his forehead. "What are you doing?"

"Hanging out," he answers simply.

"Hey Finn," Rachel adds sheepishly, almost like she's done something wrong. "It's been a while." Her eyes flash with something unknown, maybe the guilt of the secret she kept, but they don't seem to be filled with the devotion they used to be.

He wonders if that's because she doesn't feel that way about his friend anymore, or it's because she's not able to anymore.

In the end, the three of them hang out, Finn seated between them on the couch, and the boy tells them about life in New York City; about the traffic and pollution, the wild nightlife, the city's many different personalities and all the opportunities, and Rachel listens with interest, eyes wide and mouth agape.

When he leaves, Finn hugs him as he murmurs, "Thanks for taking care of her."

The thought 'I'm not doing it for you' enters his mind, but he just embraces his friend, and then watches as his best friend pulls Rachel close.

That night she sleeps in his bed like she's done many times since the middle of December, except it's not like those times. It starts out with a deep kiss, and before he knows is, her hand is pulling at his waistband and the other running up and down his back, and in a matter of seconds his shirt is off and his jeans pulled down. He spends no time getting her out of her clothes.

They don't make love, because neither is sure what that means, but they have sex. It's not slow and delicate, but it's not rough and forceful either. He doesn't whisper sweet nothings into her ear, but he kisses her with all he's got and she returns it.

"This isn't about Finn," she tells him afterwards, as her fingers move through his Mohawk at a slow pace, and he believes her.

"I know."

That doesn't mean it's about him either.

It's about gold stars, and bright city lights, and being a star.

-

-

Most nights they lay wrapped in each other's arm in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, neither of them talking.

Some nights she'll feel more depressed than usually, and he'll listen to her as she talks about everything, she misses; the optimism, the dreams and the feeling of there being more than just this everlasting sadness. He doesn't understand how two so different people can feel so alike.

Sometimes she falls asleep in the middle of it, and he watches her intensely. She looks peaceful with the way her lashes rest on her cheeks and with an almost-smile on her face, the corners turned up just slightly, like the last few months haven't sucked the life out of her.

It's strange to think of how things changed, of how she used to ramble on about Broadway and Tony awards and being a star, and how he would do just about anything to get away from this town. Now she practically never talks about any of it, and he gave up hope a long time ago.

It happens one night that he wakes up to her talking quietly in her sleep, her voice devastatingly sad as she mummers on about "New York, Broadway" and then "the baby".

That's when his heart really breaks, because he's no longer sure what she misses the most.

-

-

His birthday comes up on the 2nd of May. Usually he spends it at a party or with Finn, but not this year.

His mother makes him a small birthday cake with chocolate icing and nineteen candles in different colours, and she sings 'Happy Birthday To You' to him in a quiet voice in the morning, as she hands him a single present. It's wrapped in gold paper with balloons on it.

"It's clothes," she says before he's torn the wrapping off. "I know it might not be the greatest gift, but you're always walking around in those dirty jeans, Noah. You should dress nicer."

"Thanks," he simply mumbles.

They each eat a piece of cake, and then his mother stuffs it in the fridge, announcing she's got to work.

In the evening Rachel shows up at his house and tells him she's taking him out. He's feeling both surprised and yet like it was to be completely expected, when she hands him tickets to a show playing at a theatre near by.

"I spend almost two weeks pay on that," she says, her voice almost with teasing edge, and it's the first time he's heard that in months or maybe ever.

They walk to the theatre, her hands tucked safely away in his, and to the strangers on the street they might look like a normal happy couple, but the dread he feels when her face lights up with a smile through the whole play tells him they're certainly not.

When he gets home, he looks for a letter or a card from his dad. It's not there.

-

-

It ends the same way it started.

He finds her crying one day a few weeks later, when he comes over. She's sitting on the couch in her parents' living room, her head buried in her hands, and the silent cries he can't hear, he can see from the way her shivering body's rocking back and forth.

He sits down next to her, carefully wrapping an arm around her, and asks quietly, even if he's not sure he wants to know, "What's wrong?"

She doesn't answer. They sit there together, his arms firm around her body, until the tears slow down.

"What's wrong, Rach?"

And then she looks up at him, and her big eyes are teary and red, but she's also smiling just a bit, and this time it's genuine and makes her look content, even happy. That's when he notices the packed pink suitcases in the room.

"I'm going to go, Noah," she whispers, her voice excited and apologetic at the same time.

"You're leaving?" He tries hard to make it sound like a question and not an accusation.

She nods, "I can't stay here anymore, I'm going to go to New York and try. I've got to try, because there isn't a baby anymore." Her eyes look down briefly. "There's nothing here for me."

They stare at each other, because once again, they hear the words that remain unspoken; 'Nothing but you', but it's not enough.

And then he just nods along with her, sending her an understanding smile, even when he feels like protesting. Because she looks happy about this, and he promised Finn he would take care of her and he promised himself he would take care of her, and there's only one thing she really wants or needs.

The next day, she leaves.

She kisses him tenderly and soothingly, her petite hands holding his face, and tearfully wishes him the best of luck. He says, "Ditto," but he's certain she knows what he really means.

He doesn't cry, when her fathers take her to the airport and she waves goodbye from inside the car, but the frown stays on his face for several weeks.

-

-

It ends at the beginning.

This time it's the first day of the rest of her life, the life she always wanted, even if there isn't a baby, and he doesn't doubt she's going to make it big and he'll see her name in bright neon lights one day.

He continues to work at the car repair shop in Lima.

-

-

A/N: That's it! The lyrics at the beginning are from a song from a Danish band. The song is "The Balcony" and the band is "The Rumour Said Fire." Check it out, it's amazing if you're into alternative slash indie slash folk music ;-)

Also, because some people might be offended by it – I'm not saying being a mechanic or working at a supermarket is shameful or anything like that, I don't think it is. But yeah, it worked with the story :-)

Anyway, I have been listening to All American Rejects' newest CD, When The World Comes Down, and I really wanna write a fic inspired by one of the songs, because they are all so awesome. Do you guys have any ideas? The fic will probably be angsty, because those songs are all about heartbreak!