(Not my usual OPT, but the idea just sprung on me…Read and review)

Sam Evans. His parents died at the age of 3, and he was put in the custody of his Aunt and Uncle. Correction: his abusive aunt and uncle. I know it's a bit Disney, but he was hit and whipped with a cane daily. He lived in a hovel of a bedroom, with a whole in his roof, meaning that each time there was a downpour or a gust of wind, which wasn't uncommon in Oklahoma; it would leak directly into his room. Sam had illnesses constantly and missed school at lot. The neighbours suspected the boy was in peril, and therefore called social services. After only a 1 day investigation, Sam was taken away and put into a foster house, Livetenborough.

Noah Puckerman. His dad left his mom at the young age of 4. His mother, usually a tough broad from Nebraska, was unable to cope and turned to drinking. She spent nights at bars, picking up strange men and doing endless drug rallies. Noah would have to spend nights, even weeks without a meal on the table, and without even seeing his mom. When the papers starting to accumulate and the neighbours heard Noah's relentless hunger filled shrieks, they called social services. After only a 1 day investigation, Noah was taken away and put into a foster home, Livetenborough.

Quinn Fabray. She was part of a loving and healthy Christian family. She was taken to the park by her daddy, swinging and sliding her way around the playground. Her mommy taught her to bake cookies and went shopping for long pretty pink dresses, and matching hair bands…of course. One anniversary night, the Fabray parents were going on a long weekend trip to a bed and breakfast in Sherman Oakes. They decided to drive there from Santa Monica, they're home town. Let's just say, the couple never made it back. In their will, Quinnie was left to Judy's father, Hank. At the time they wrote the document, Hank was as fit as a fiddle. Yet after the last 4 years, he took a bad turn, and was diagnosed with early symptoms of Alzheimer's disease. The court ordered to see whether Hank Maxwell would be fit enough to look after the young Blonde. After only a 1 day investigation, Quinn was taken away and put into a foster home, Livetenborough.

The three arrived at Livetenborough at the age of 5. Sam and Noah arrived on a Wednesday. The boys lined up, with the other 'fresh meat' as Sam had heard the older boys call them and was listening to a tall woman tell them the house rules. Pretty easy, no fighting, sneaking out, etc. All the other young kids started making their ways to their bedrooms, dragging their luggage up the staircases. Yet the mop top and the Mohawk stood in the hallway, gawping at the look of a nice clean home, with smiling residents and the smell of cooking food. Sam was just happy to see that he had a roof this time.

"Who are you?" he heard from behind him. Sam whirled around seeing the young boy in a t-shirt with ripped sleeves and a skull and cross bone pattern on his khaki trousers.

"I'm Sam Evans" he sheepishly replied, blinking in nervousness. Sam had never spoken to a kid before. Actually, Sam rarely spoke. He got beaten if he even tried to speak back in Oklahoma. This was new territory.

"I'm Noah..we have to be best mates" The other boy ordered, spitting on his hand and stretching it out to Sam. The blonde boy hesitated, confused by this message.

"You then spit on your hand, then we shake. I used to do it with ma pop, then he went away for a while, I guess you'll do until he comes back" The boy shrugged his shoulders and stepped towards the Blonde again, wriggling his hand infront of Sam.

Sam pursed his large lips together and spat on his right hand and shook Noah's. That's the day that the two always remembered. They shared a bedroom, out of choice, and did everything together. Sam even started to call Noah, 'Puck'. Yep, they were best buds.

Quinn arrived the next Friday. Jenny, the carer, carried her little mermaid suitcase into the house, holding hands with the shaking leaf of a Blonde girl.

"Okay Quinnie, you've got your own room, its pink just how you're grandpa said you like it. He'll visit you next Tuesday, okay honey?" The woman was very endearing; she didn't tower over Quinn, but knelt to be eye level with her. The timid girl nodded and with that Jenny rushed up the stairs to place Quinn's Disney princess themed luggage into her new bedroom-for life.

Quinn vagely heard the same woman shout across the top floor landing. She still had a sweet tone, but it was just a few decibels higher.

"NOAH, SAM, don't run, you'll break your necks!" The boys ran anyway. They were laughing down the staircase, running until Sam came to an abrupt halt, and, seeing as Puck was following, he slammed straight into Sam's back. "Woah" was all that the boys could say. That was it. She was so pretty. Boy's they're age don't usually care about girls. They have cooties. But she was standing there, with long, wavy golden hair and a pink sundress on. They could've easily mistaken her for a princess, not some messed up kid being chucked into a home.

After she mindlessly gazed up and around the house, her eyes fell on the boys. They were stood silent, staring at her. Due to her past month, she could have ripped they're heads off. A Fabray had manners. Her father's words rung through her ears. She smiled sweetly at the duo, who returned the smile, albeit falteringly.

Puck swiftly popped infront of Sam and stuck out his hand.

"I'm Puck. You're new" he stated, rather dimly.

"Yep, I'm Quinn, what kind of a name is Puck?" She still kept her smile; she was good at hiding her emotions, sweeping them under the rug. She got enough fricking practise.

"His second name is Puckerman" explained Sam, who has come out of his comatose state and is now standing next to his best pal, "I'm Sam, his best friend"

"Move it Noah!" spat a tall boy, emerging from the playroom done with watching boxers beating the crap out of each other. He was the one to fear, but on his third day, Puck gave up with his scary act and confronted him. There was a 9 year age difference, so he took his beating.

"Shove it Karofsky, Puckzilla's gonna go all crazy on your ass!" shouted the minute little boy, thinking a long strip of hair across his head makes him 'tough' so to speak.

"Hey Princess, don't talk to this fag anymore" was Karofsky's final remark as he left, not before vicously ruffling Quinn's hair, causing her to flinch and whimper.

The three remained quiet for a minute until Quinn smoothed down her hair and extended her hand, placing it on Puck's upper arm, "Don't mind him, he's just too scared of you…if you want I can call you Puckzilla" she smiled, a genuine smile this time and tilted her head. Fabray's have manners.

"Thanks…you're pretty. Wanna be our third best pal?" Sam shifted awkwardly. He hadn't agreed to this! He didn't want a third best friend! Plus she's a girl, and he doesn't want yet another disease!

"Um… I'm not sure…is that okay?" her face turned to Sam, who nodded smiling. Somehow he melted under her beautiful gaze.

"I'll call you Q" piped in Sam, "If you're my new best friend…you need a nickname".