Title: Derek's Cluster-Fuck Life

Summary: Derek is a grouch. On top of that, he's a grouch who really hates his job. In addition to hating his job, he just so happens to hate his life. When his gets a bouncy, happy-go-lucky new neighbor, Derek decides he hates her too. Will her nosy, carefree lifestyle prove to be the bane of his existence, or will he end up thinking outside the box? Chlerek. AU.

Disclaimer and Letter From the Author: I am really excited to bring you my first ever Chlerek story! Well. Technically I wrote a fan fiction for Eletha Landon's Forbidden, but this is my first original for the Darkest Powers fandom.

I love Derek and Chloe and have really wanted to write in this category for a long time, but was always very uncertain because I think that Derek's character is very hard to grasp. He's a tough character, always very mysterious and guarded and I didn't think I'd be able to accurately portray him. But I've been reading Chlerek story after Chlerek story and finally I thought, let me give this a try. And here we are and I am so excited. It actually took me two weeks to write this.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. I'm not sure how long this story will be or how often I will update, but I am already thinking about the second chapter so I think it should be sooner rather than later. This is a fun little project I've started, cranky male leads with bubbly female leads. I am currently working on a Skip Beat! story similar to this in concept.

Derek isn't mine. Neither is Simon or Chloe or Tori or Liam or, well, anyone in the Darkest Powers universe. They all belong to Kelly. But please ask permission before any reuse of any part of this fan fiction. -Marie

Chapter One

Your Problem is My Problem, But That Doesn't Mean I Care-A-Lot

It was the standard, shitty ass day for Derek Souza as he answered the ringing phone and barked out a gruff, "Vac Way Customer Service, Derek Souza, what do you need help with today?"

Not that he particularly cared. Hell, not that he even listened. He of course caught the all important, "suction isn't working" and the "I just bought this", but when the woman on the other end of the line started up with, "I paid eighty dollars for this piece of shit, and it breaks on the first day," Derek was lost again, scowling as he mumbled something about transferring the woman to another department that specialized in her problem.

He put her on hold, punching in the extension that could transfer the call from his line and hopefully out of his life for good.

That's what happened when you bought things off of every infomercial you happened to see; you pay eighty five ninety five for it, and turns out being a POS with no thirty day money back guarantee. It didn't really sound like his problem.

Only, apparently it was, because every time there was a disgruntled customer they called Vac Way customer service. In which four hundred employees answered—though never all at one time.

And answering the phone just so happened to be his job.

Listening to the annoying shrill of the whiny voices of strangers he really didn't give two fucks about.

Yeah. How'd the pantomime go? Pull the trigger, queue recoil, jerk the head, and use the other hand to mimic a brain splatter?

His phone rang again, startling him from his grumbling thoughts, and he missed a key on his computer, punching some random numerical digit that stretched across his screen.

He glared at the phone, picking it up and following the same procedure as three minutes before.

He had six hours and twelve minutes left to endure of that torture; he guessed—well, hoped—that he'd end up dying by then. Metaphorically, of course. He really didn't have a death wish.

They just sounded nice when it came to the cluster-fuck that was his life.

Now, if one were to think that his frustrations ended only at his job, and that calling his life a cluster-fuck was a bit over the top and exaggerated, they'd be wrong.

With difficulties he managed to squeeze into his small Camry—more correctly, his brother's piece of shit, dingy, small Camry— putting his briefcase on the seat beside him and cursing when it took five tries for the starter to register that Derek was trying to hurry the fuck home. In less than thirty seconds, he was out of the Vac Way parking garage and onto the open street, his apartment only a twenty three minute drive away, depending on traffic.

As he stopped at the red light, his phone rang. He glanced at the phone stand on the dash and internally groaned as he answered it.

"What is it," he demanded flatly.

"Hey, you off work?" His younger brother's voice rang loud on the speaker, jubilant, and...suspicious. Derek scoffed. He had no time for this.

"Simon Bae, get to the point."

"Yikes, work was bad, Bro?"

"What do you think," Derek muttered dryly as the light changed. "It also doesn't help that I'm cramped up in someone's car."

"Average sized people wouldn't be cramped."

"Excuse me for being a six-foot-two ox."

An awkward, shamed chuckle. "Don't worry, I'll get the money to fix your car."

Derek raised a brow. This he had to hear. "How is that, Simon? Did you finally get a job?"

"No, I've been playing the lottery."

"Simon—"

"Kidding, Derek! Kidding! I have not been gambling. And, you know, if it's that hard on you using my car, I'll get the money to fix yours."

"Which you should have done three months ago after you wrecked it."

"Yeah, well—"

"Don't. Whatever you have to say will just get on my nerves. So. How are you going to fix my car?"

"I'll just ask Dad."

Derek couldn't fight the roll of his eyes as he flipped his blinker and turned the corner. "You mean our dad? The same dad that cancelled your credit cards"—and subsequently his own, not that he used them. But they had been given to all three of Christopher Bae's children as a means of 'emergency money' when they graduated high school and started readying themselves for the start of the rest of their lives—"after you decided you'd rather be rebellious and drop school so that you could spend your emergency money on booze, women, and marijuana? You're asking that dad, the dad that kicked you out and only calls to talk to you once a month? That dad? I thought you quit smoking pot."

"I did quit," Simon said, a touch of defensiveness in his tone, "and maybe he will help. You know, because it's your car and I messed it up."

"Simon, it's because it's my car and you messed it up that he'll hang up the phone as soon as you use any words sounding like 'borrow'."

"But maybe—"

"No, just forget about it, alright?" Derek said with a sigh. "I'll be home in a minute."

He drove down the street, feeling only a twinge of the tension he was feeling dissipate as there was a rapidly decreasing number of cars on the road. That, was the benefit of having an apartment slightly off the main road and a few miles away from everyone. The downside was that he lived in an apartment complex where the residents thought that because they lived in the same building, it was the kingdom of fucking Care-A-Lot. He constantly had neighbors knocking on his door asking for sugar, offering him cookies, wanting to watch the game. Sure, they meant well, but he wasn't a people person. At all. And when he had first moved in there five months ago, he had intended to make that very, very clear. Until of course, Simon got kicked out off both school and their father's house and had nowhere to go. The social giant attracted more neighbors to his door than what Derek would have liked.

That, and they were really fucking nosy.

When Derek parked the car and slid his key card into the front entry, he was scowling. He was scowling even more when he made it to the fifth floor and found three people with their ears to his door whispering outside his apartment.

What in the fuck? Derek worked his jaw as he headed to his door.

"Can I help you with something?" Derek demanded, startling the neighbors from their positions. They yelped, saw him, and then relaxed, as if it were perfectly acceptable to be ease dropping on other people's homes.

"Oh, Derek, it's just you. How's it going, brother?"

Derek's eye twitched. "Why the hell are you outside my door?"

"Well, your brother is in there..." a man started. Derek tapped his foot impatiently.

"Your point?"

"He was on the phone," one of the girls beside the man hedged, "it was on speaker. He was talking to a man and they were yelling."

"So we came to check it out; make sure everything is okay."

"I assure you," Derek eyed the hands on his door, "that I can handle my own business. And so can my brother. I don't like solicitation."

"Ah, right! Well, we would have knocked but we didn't know if we should interrupt..."

More like, you didn't want to.

"Move your hands." Derek ordered, shoving his key into his door, using his body to hide the inside of his apartment from their prying eyes. "And go home. I don't want to have to open this door and see your faces leaving smudge marks on the wood. Got it?"

"Er...yeah, Derek. Sorry, bud!"

"And I hope you get your car fixed!"

With a glare in their direction, Derek slammed the door.

He sighed heavily, rubbing his face with his hands.

Why was he there? Why wasn't he in college? Why was he in a shitty apartment complex, driving around a shitty car, and working at a shitty call center?

In his musings, he distinctly heard the sound of a shout from his kitchen and groaned.

Oh, yeah. Because his life was a fucking cluster-fuck.

He threw his keys onto the table near him and tossed his briefcase on his couch. He walked into his kitchen to see Simon at the island, talking animatedly into the phone.

"Look, I haven't been smoking pot! I quit. And, this isn't about me! I don't want those stupid cards back. I'm just fine on my own!"

"Is that right?" the sound of their father's voice was unmistakable. "Is that why you're calling me, asking me for money? Because you're fine on your own?"

"I'm not asking you for money for myself! It's for Derek. I wrecked his car."

"So fix it, with the money you can use from your job. Unless you don't have a job."

Simon sighed in annoyance. "No, Dad, I don't have a job. But—"

"So what have you been doing then? What has Derek been doing then? You two are just—"

"Derek has been working and taking care of his apartment! He let me use his car, and I wrecked it, okay?"

"Serves him right for trusting you, a kid who wanted to drop out of college and do nothing. I don't have to help either of you with a single cent. Tell Derek that this is his lesson learned for taking you in."

"Dad! Why are you acting like this towards Derek? I get me, but why Derek? He—"

Derek couldn't listen to any more. He made his presence known to Simon, who blanched.

"Oh, shit. Derek."

"Simon, what the hell are you doing?"

"I was just—"

"You were just nothing. I told you I didn't want his money. I told you not to ask him," Derek seethed.

He stepped up to the island and looked down at the phone. "Don't worry about anything Simon's been talking about. Everything is fine here."

"You expect me to believe that you didn't put him up to this?"

Derek's eyes narrowed, "Excuse me?"

"Look at Simon's behavior, and now you're living together! And he asks me for money for you, and I'm supposed to believe that you have no part in his shenanigans? Never mind the fact that you are both college drop outs—"

"Dad!" Simon hissed, and his father stopped immediately.

There was a silence as everyone waited with bated breath.

Derek's eyes were wide in disbelief, his jaw tensing in hurt as his anger quickly took over.

"You know what? Think about me whatever the fuck you want—"

"Derek! You watch your mouth when speaking to me, I'm your fa—"

"You could have fooled me." On the other end, their father faltered. "D-Derek..."

"I don't need your hand outs. So forget about this call, and don't expect another one. Sorry we bothered you when you have more important business."

"Derek, listen, I—"

He pressed the end button on his father before he could hear another word. He heard everything he had needed to hear.

He had expected an outcome similar which was why he told Simon not to call their father in the first place. But he didn't think it was going to be that bad, didn't think his father would say something like that, about him. Was that what his father truly felt about him? What that what he truly thought? That Derek was just some drop out, that he wanted to be a drop out, that he wanted to be stuck in Care-A-Fuck and with a shitty job and with his irresponsible brother, and in a cluster-fuck life—

He clenched his teeth and his fists. His knuckles were white, but he didn't care.

"Derek?"

Simon's hesitant voice was the last thing he wanted to deal with. "Not now," he growled. "I told you not to call him."

"Derek, I—"

"Can't you ever listen to anyone? I told you not to fucking call him!" His eyes flashed dangerously on Simon, his voice cracking just a bit in his whirlwind of emotions.

Simon looked ashamed and remorseful. "Derek, I—I'm sorry, bro. I didn't think he'd—for him to even bring that up, I— man alive, D, I—he's always been the most proud of you, Derek. That's why I thought he'd help if it was you. Because he's always been proud of you."

Derek watched Simon's pitiful expression, his anger fading to aggravation and resignation. With a heavy sigh, he said, "I get it. Let's just drop it. The damage is done now."

He watched Simon move around the kitchen. He looked in the fridge. "You, erm, want a beer?"

Derek raised a brow. "You serious?"

"That's all we got. Well, there's a case of Steel Reserve. Spiked Punch."

Derek lifted his hand. Simon grinned, fumbling with cardboard, and tossed the pint of flavored ale towards Derek, who caught it effortlessly, his large hand closing around the aluminum can.

"It'll go stale."

"Doesn't matter," Derek pulled the tab, "it's all going to the same place." He brought the can to his lips and took a large gulp, planning to drink away the headache he'd acquired throughout the day.

Simon slid into the bar stool next to him. "By the way, the neighbors were talking—"

"Always a good sign," Derek muttered dryly.

"—and they were saying that apparently someone is moving in next door tomorrow."

"Great, more care bears."

"What...?"

Derek sighed. "Nothing, just forget it."

(TBC…)

So, what did you think? What happened to Derek in college? Who is his new neighbor? And, what's with Derek and Care Bears? Find out next time in Derek's Cluster-Fuck Life!

...haha. Hint, for next chapter: Chapter Two: If he's Funshine Bear, I'm Grumpy Bear, and they're the Care Bear Cousins, then who the fuck are you?

Thanks for reading! Please review! Would love feedback, whatever the form!