Hello, I'm Hazel Rayne and I will be your author for this evening. The concept of this story is very stange, you can blame my teacher for that. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee! If I did Sebastian would have ner been made!

The beach was old, cold and stony. My aunt told me no one came down there anymore. I couldn't see why, it was beautiful. And it was so perfect for me and my friends. We're that group that you see joking and laughing all the time, yet the only time you talk to us you're just messing or trying to distract us long enough to steal our bags.

We're the social outcasts of our school. I learned that term from Santana, who's from Texas, and is dating my best friend from primary school Brittany, who's English and our last friend is Kurt, from Australia who always seems to be listening to music, as for me? Well I'm just a loner from Ohio now living near the coast of Calafornia.

So to recap none of us are actually from LA, two of us are gay, one is a rocker that is always in black, and one is a loner afraid to get close.

And that's why we use this beach that no one knows about.

"Hey there honey-bee!" Santana practically shouted in my ear, "Mind saying that again, I think there's a deaf codger in the outback that didn't quite hear you." Kurt replied.

"Everythin's bigger and better when it's from Texas!" Santana retorted.

"Yeah, well, you see, I'm from Sydney, where we like having our hearing intact."

"Hold the phone guys, Brittany's comin' over…"

First rule of ours, never, under any circumstance, EVER let Brittany hear you fighting. "Hey there lovies!" she shrieked, hugging Santana around the middle before throwing her arms over me and Kurt's shoulders. "Are we goin' or what?" She wasn't really asking, she knew what was happening today. "You betcha'" Santana said swinging her arm around my shoulders, 'cause I'm the only one she can reach. (I'm not small, they're just abnormally tall.) "Last day of freedom, ladies" I said, "And I shall proclaim that it will be a day we'll never forget!" I'm a little dramatic sometimes, so sue me….

We got there soon after we left, picnic basket in tow. Isabel spotted it first.

It was a bright blue ball, the same type that Noah Puckerman used. Puck moved a couple of weeks ago, back to Ireland. He was part of our group, and we saw him leave with his ball that he brought everywhere. The same ball that was floating a few feet away.

"Whoa!" Santana said (well, shouted) "Does that mean Puck's here?"

"Yes and no ladies…" said a voice from near the ball. "Puck died last night and I am a part of his soul wedged inside of a beach ball…A very handsome beach ball, if I do say so myself…" Yep, that's definitely Puck.

Brittany immediately started to cry, she's kind of a softie. The rest of us ran to the ball, to find that a face had been drawn in the side, annoying orange style.

Santana then went back to Brittany to console her, while Kurt and I interrogated the ball, asking it things only Puck would know, hitting it whenever it refused to answer, which was a lot. Soon we were convinced that not only was it Puck in there, but he was more self centred then ever. Probably because he doesn't have a brain in there, therefore, no filter.

The next few hours were amazing. It was just like he had never left! Until….

"Hey c'mon boy toss him over here!" Santana hollered over to Kurt, who was sitting two feet away.

"Okay, okay…." Kurt stood up and threw him. There was a splash and a garbled scream.

And that's the last we ever heard from Noah Puckerman.