Author's Note: This started as a part of a song drabble, but it needed to be more. It's sort of inspired by "Shadows and Regrets" by Yellowcard, but only loosely. This first chapter is a bit of an introduction, but it's needed. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for any reviews!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
Being back in Lima is a bit surreal. He's only come back a few times since leaving it all behind. But driving down the streets it all comes back, the memories of what was once familiar. The friends he had, who he was before. Most of it, he's not proud of, but he changed, music helped him change. When he left, he promised he wouldn't hold on to any of it, the bad stuff, maybe even some of the good stuff. It worked, for the most part. Sure he has no regrets (well except a few that involve dumpsters), but you can't erase a part of the world you existed in. It's there, fading sometimes, like worn photographs. Nothing but a cluster of shadows, only awakened when you step into a room or drive down a street.
He doesn't want to be sixteen again. Life is supposed to move and there are supposed to be reflections of that person you were. When you didn't really know what love was, or if your friends would always stay your friends. Possibility, hope, they were there. Life was there.
Driving back into that familiar driveway, he prays he's not here too long.
His mother was a bit shocked when he told her he was moving out of the country after high school. Joining the Army had been a mistake. He'd wanted to find where he fit in the world, so when the Unites States government gave him a way out, he took it. Jumped at the chance to see things, live things. So he took his small savings and college fund and bought a ticket to Dublin.
The Irish were kind, welcoming, but even the young ones had a bit of sorrow in the back of their eyes. Scars ran deep in the vibrant green country. He talked to men in pubs, left a message of hope on the white peace wall in Belfast, and stuck his feet in the waters along the Dingle Peninsula.
He went to England and watched a performance at the Globe Theater and one in the West End (thinking of nothing but her through both Acts).
In Italy he ate the best pizza of his life. But missed all the grease at Lima Bowl.
It was when he backtracked to Germany, that he decided he missed home. That and he only had enough for one plane ticket.
After spending close to a year traveling, he stopped by home first. But only long enough to do his laundry.
He figured he could find his purpose on the West Coast. Or maybe he just wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Finding work was easier than he thought. Turns out Puck had moved himself out there not long after Finn took a plane across the ocean. They ran into each other on the beach. Puck was trying to impress local college girls with his lackluster surfing skills and when he saw Finn he almost looked relieved. He'd spent the last year working for a local bar, and when the owner decided to go on a permanent vacation, Puck took over. Business had been booming, but they'd lost a bar tender. Finn had no idea how to mix drinks, but he took the job anyway.
They rented a two bedroom apartment two blocks from the shore. Despite its impressive location, the water barely ran and the windows had to be held up with boards. But they had a landlord who let them pay half price if they volunteered as the buildings handymen.
The bar continued to bring in profit. Working as a bar tender was quick paced, kind of exciting, and it gave great tips. Finn often wondered how Puck was legally able to run a bar at nineteen and employ an underage bar tender. He never asked questions though.
On Wednesday nights the bar held acoustic shows. Finn and Puck even played a few times, it was sort of thrilling to have people other than your friends see your talent.
Life was good that first year.
The cops started lurking around the start of that next summer. Fearing possible jail time, Puck sold the bar to some hotshot entrepreneur for a huge price. It was enough to pay rent for the next six months and probably beyond.
For that half a year Finn was jobless. He'd saved up enough in tips for groceries, but even that was slowly depleting. It was during his morning run that he saw the advertisement. A local music store was hiring. He'd followed the address about five blocks from the apartment. It was located next to a coffee shop, and when Finn stepped through the glass door the smell of coffee wafted through the air. The guy at the front desk didn't even ask for a resume. He was hired on the spot. Something about how he looked like a "music guy."
So every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday he shuffled through old albums, alphabetizing and clearing space for new editions. The days were long, but the manager let him play whatever he wanted (except for Barry Manelow) and even let him bang away on one of the drum sets in the sound proof room. It certainly wasn't the worst job in the world.
Puck eventually ran away to Vegas with some girl whose name was a Season and Finn was forced to find a smaller apartment.
It helped when he found a flyer outside the music store for a band in need of a drummer. They played locally and did mostly covers, but it gave Finn a chance to work on his craft.
After a couple months of playing at bars, someone noticed him. The guy was sitting at a back table, with a glass of scotch. At the end of the first set, he came up to him and offered him a job. An up and coming artist needed a drummer, he would start on Monday.
Finn found that he loved being in the recording studio, especially when the producers would take his suggestions. They recorded the album over the course of that Spring. When Finn's birthday arrived in May, the album was released, but didn't take off as the record company had hoped. They kept Finn on, using him when other drummers couldn't make a session or when one didn't pan out. It was fun and it was his career.
Then he got the call, packed up most of his belongings and left for Lima. He told the record company he would be gone indefinitely. They didn't take it well, but he wasn't fired. He was given three weeks of leave, given the situation. And he's grateful.
So here he is back in Lima, ready to knock on his parents front door. He really REALLY hopes he's not here to long.
AN/2: So what you do think? Is this worth continuing?