Disclaimer: I own nothing. Glee is not mine nor is any of the characters in this story.
A/N: I love St. Fabray and can't get this idea out of my head. Pretty much takes place up until Season 4, so spoilers from 1, 2, and 3 might be present. However, it does not follow the Season 4 story line. Spelling/grammatical errors are mine and I will not let this interfere with my other story.
The cool, crisp, New York air swirled around Jesse's face as he plugged the headphones into his ear and took off running. The haunting words from Bohemian Rhapsody traveled through his ears, into his brain, and striking his heart. The day he sang that at Sectionals was the time of his life. Never would he have imagined that he'd lose it all one day. Sweat began to beat down his face, and the pull of his muscles was already burning. To say he had let himself go would be an understatement. But how could anyone bother with keeping in shape when all you had to live for was a tiny, Jewish best friend?
If it hadn't been for the kindness that was Rachel Berry he'd probably be broke, homeless, and sporting an unattractive beard right now. Losing his job at Vocal Adrenaline hurt, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of losing all the dreams he had worked so hard to achieve. Day after day he had been hitting the pavement, searching for any show that would take him on. He had even lowered his expectations down to audition for off Broadway productions. Yet, he never even received a callback. It was devastating and had destroyed every ounce of confidence he carried with him since the age of five.
The run through the park was daunting, but it helped him focus on the future. Hammering every drop of frustration onto the concrete, he pushed himself harder than he ever had before. Failure had plagued him ever since graduating. High school was the highlight of his life. There were girls flinging themselves at him, the prospect of becoming a huge Broadway star, and four consecutive national championships. Those were the days, considering since then he had flunked out of college, couldn't keep a relationship going for more than a week, and was resorted to sleeping on Rachel and Kurt's couch.
Reaching for his water bottle, Jesse slowed down his pace until he came to a complete stop. Even in the cold weather, his whole body felt like it was on fire. That was probably a metaphor for the position he was in, but he was no English genius. He'd leave all that to Rachel who valued the worth of a good metaphor.
"Get it together, St. James. You are the Jesse St. James and one day this funk will all be over. You will see your name in the bright lights of Broadway. It's inevitable." For the past week he had repeating those words over and over to himself. It was the only thing he had left to hold onto. It had to come true, otherwise he'd lose his mind completely.
Back at the apartment, Kurt and Rachel were sprawled out on the couch when Jesse returned. His skin was still sticky from his run, something that made Kurt grimace.
"Please tell me you are going to shower. I can't deal with sweaty body. Oh and don't touch anything of mine." Kurt stated, taking a huge bite of the ice cream sitting in between Rachel and him.
"Right, because rolling around in your things is a secret fantasy of mine, Hummel." Jesse retorted, rolling his eyes as he made his way to the bathroom.
"Now, now boys," Rachel yelled after Jesse's retreating form, "Play nice."
Living with Rachel had been a dream come true. The two shared their inner most personal secrets, split tubs of ice cream while watching Funny Girl, and always gossiped about the latest happenings on Broadway. Guilt was still present over all the humiliating things he had done to the girl, but she had assured him that all was forgiven. Jesse believed her seeing as she had opened up her arms and home for him. It was evident that she was his best friend and he'd be one, big mess without her.
However, living with Kurt and Rachel was a nightmare. Having three divas under one roof was disastrous. Kurt and he bickered constantly, and it was apparent that Kurt wasn't as understanding as Rachel. The other night Jesse had overheard a heated argument from his bedroom. According to Kurt, Jesse couldn't be trusted and was only there to ruin things in Rachel's life. It hurt Jesse that anyone could think he was that cruel, but he'd never admit that out loud. Sure, he had been an ass in the past but things had changed for him. The cocky attitude would always be there, however the cruelty was long gone.
It wasn't long before hot water was pounding down his face. It reminded him of Blanche from A Streetcar Named Desire. She had been one of his favorite characters in the theatre world, but it was shocking that their life would be parallel to each other. It was a reoccurring event for him to shower frequently, hoping the water would wash away his disappointments. It made him feel fresh, new, and alive. That was until the water turned cold and he remembered exactly what his life had become; a meaningless, pit of despair.
The shower ended for him sooner than he would have liked, but within minutes he was fully clothed and joining Rachel in the kitchen. She had informed him that Kurt ran out to grab them some takeout, which didn't surprise Jesse at all. They always ordered takeout. It never failed. Mostly because Rachel burned everything she tried to cook, Kurt was often at work, and Jesse never set foot in a kitchen. They made maids for that kind of labor.
"I really wish you'd join us for Thanksgiving. I mean I'm sure everyone in Lima would be thrilled to see you. Besides, I know you miss your family. My dads would also be excited to have you over." Rachel was attempting one last try at getting Jesse to come with Kurt and her to Lima. Thanksgiving was a very important holiday to her and she hated the idea of leaving Jesse behind.
Jesse rolled his eyes, already exhausted by where this conversation was going. He had told Rachel several times that he was not stepping foot back in Lima. His whole reputation had been destroyed in that place and he refused to be reminded of the past.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I am not going back to that place. As for my parents, do you mean the people who never once came to a show choir event, and also didn't even acknowledge my presence when I lost my job, my apartment, and quite frankly my sanity? Spending Thanksgiving with them sounds more like a death sentence."
This was the exact response she had expected from him. It killed her to see him in such pain. Therefore she had taken prior action to conclude the argument. Jesse St. James would not be alone on Thanksgiving if she had anything to do with it.
"Good thing I already informed everyone that we would be having Thanksgiving here. Quinn is already on her way and I'm sure the rest of New Directions will be arriving within the next few days. Game, set, match, Mr. St. James."
Outrage was evident on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was spend a holiday of thanks when he had nothing to be thankful for. Especially with people who hated him, and the feelings he had for them matched theirs to a tee. No matter how angered by her actions, he knew she was only trying to help. That was the only thing keeping him cool.
"Please tell me you didn't do that, Rachel. I just…I don't want to be around anyone right now. You remember how you felt when you blew your audition to NYADA? Well think of that times ten. That is exactly how I'm feeling right now and being around people I dislike is only going to fuel that feeling."
Rachel shook her head, indicating that she already knew all of this. "I get it, Jesse. You are in a dark place, we have all been there but like Barbra we will all rise from the slums of life and fight until that bright light guides us to a happy place in life. Who knows, maybe you will find that light during Thanksgiving. Plus I can't just cancel now. I was just informed by Quinn that she'd be arriving soon."
He felt defeated, mostly because there was no way of getting out of this. Thanksgiving was going to happen, and he was going to hate every minute of it.
The food had been eaten, the dishes had been cleaned, and Rachel and Kurt had retired to their bedrooms by the time Jesse's head hit the pillow. Rachel had informed him to keep an eye out on Quinn, but considering the girl would be arriving late—Jesse figured she'd have enough common sense to get a motel room and visit in the morning.
As a small knock sounded at the door, he soon realized just how wrong he had been to assume things. "Joy, however did I get so lucky?" He mumbled to himself, getting up from his spot.
Swinging the door open, an amused laugh slipped form his mouth as he observed the shocked look on Quinn's face.
"Jesse? What are you doing here?"
Turning around to catch the time on the bedside clock beside the couch, he turned back toward her giving her a scowl. "It's midnight. I'm sleeping like normal people do at that time."
A small "okay" left Quinn's mouth, as she grabbed the bag sitting beside her. "Um I mean why are you at Rachel's place, sleeping?"
Leaning against the doorframe, he pushed the door open, making the sheets on the couch visible to her. "If you take one step closer you will be standing in my bedroom."
"Okay…" Quinn drew out the word, moving past Jesse, and into the apartment. For the life of her she could not wrap her head around why Jesse St. James would need to live with Kurt and Rachel. When did he even arrive to New York? What happened to Vocal Adrenaline? Maybe this was all a dream because would Rachel really trust him enough to allow him such access into her personal life?
Jesse cleared his throat as he gently closed the door. "Is there any reason in particular that you are here instead of a rundown, sleazy motel? I mean with daddy out of your life I'm sure that's all you could afford in this city."
The words travelled from his mouth and into her ears. Quinn spun around faster than he could register. "Listen here, St. James. I'm not playing games with you so you'd do best to keep your 'sleazy' mouth shut. You know nothing about me or my life." Iciness was laced in her words. Being the head cheerleader for years came with some advantages. She knew how to put on a good show, and Jesse was no match for her.
"You sure about that princess? I think I know more than you could ever realize." Being coach of Vocal Adrenaline had its perks. It was Jesse's duty to know everything there was to known about his competition. This included digging into their personal lives in order to get inside their heads. Not like he needed this information anymore, but entertainment was hard to find around the city. Therefore messing with the blonde would have to do.
It had only been five minutes and Quinn was ready to rip Jesse to shreds. His arrogant, cocky self was more than she could put up with due to her situation. A person would think that time healed all personality flaws, but it seemed as if things never truly change. Jesse's words affected her most because they were true. With her father out of the picture, times were hard for her and her mother. She had been living off of Ramen Noodles and can foods. If it hadn't been for her scholarship that included room and board she'd probably be homeless.
These thoughts brought her back to the more important issue. Why was Jesse living there?
"What is your story, then? Living on the couch in your ex-girlfriend's apartment. Did your little show choir finally come to their senses and kick you out?"
The cocky smirk he had been sporting the whole time faltered, but was quickly regained. "I believe it's called none of your business."
"Right, so you can talk about my life but I can't question yours? Let's just agree to disagree because it's been a long trip and I need sleep."
She sat her bags down on the couch and began to take her shoes off. However, this action was suddenly stopped when Jesse's hand landed on her shoe.
"What are you doing? I sleep here. You can't possibly think there is enough room for one more person. I mean this apartment is cramped enough. I need room to breathe if I want to keep my voice well hydrated. You'll have to find somewhere else to crash."
The problem with that was a whole different ballgame. She had no money right now to find a motel room, and it's not like she knew anyone else who lived in New York City. Her plans were ruined when Jesse opened the door. There was a spark of hope inside of her that Rachel was still as generous as ever, and would let her sleep on the couch for that night. Then she'd explain her circumstances to Rachel, and hope the girl would spot her the money for a place to stay. She had searched and searched for job after job, but nothing came up. However, there was still always that possibility and she'd never borrow money from someone without the prospect of returning it.
"Where are Rachel and Kurt?" She was fed up with the way Jesse was handling things. She had known the two way longer than he had, and this technically wasn't his apartment. What right did he have to boss her around?
"Again, they are sleeping like normal human beings do at this time. I thought Yale was for intelligent people." A smirk was in place because he knew he was hitting a nerve now.
She refused to play his game any longer. Tossing his pillows on the floor she laid a jacket out for her to rest her head on. "Have fun on the floor."
Jesse's anger boiled over as he watched her movements. How dare she come into a place he called home and toss his things around. He didn't know much about the girl, but she had another thing coming if she honestly believed he'd put up with her crap. Stars like him did not sleep on floors.
"Sorry, but floors are made for talentless, washed up losers which most certainly are not named Jesse St. James." As his words flowed throughout the apartment, he causally laid down beside her on the couch. He silently counted to five in his head before she exploded on him.
"What do you think you are doing? You must be insane if you think I'm sleeping with you next to me." She exclaimed, pushing him as hard as she could. Jesse however stood his ground, never budging an inch.
"You know for a cheerleader, you are not that strong. You should have invested more time into dancing. We dancers have excellent upper and lower body strength." He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her. "Also, who said anything about sleep? I think we can figure out something a little more exciting for us to do."
Quinn could not believe the nerve of this guy. No guy would ever dare say these things to her, besides Puck, but for the most part she had a way of keeping all guys in line. "I don't do that and I most certainly don't do that with asses like you. Now get down." She once again pushed him but to no avail.
"Fine, you win. I give up." She said, moving over his body before being stopped in place on top of him. His grip around her waist loosened slightly as he looked into her eyes.
"I prefer being on top." His snarky tone was still evident, but his voice held a more playful manner than before.
She slapped his arm away, rolling onto the floor with a thump. "I hope you are happy. Making a girl sleep on the floor is the manliest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you so much Jesse. You know maybe if you cared a little more, people would show you respect. I don't know why you are here, or what you've done to get this way, but I assure you that other people are living in worse conditions than yours." She huffed, grabbing the covers and laying down. The floor was impossible to sleep on and she had only been down there for a minute. Looks like her night couldn't get any worse.
Jesse wasn't sure if it was her words or the overall look on her face as she tried to get comfortable. Either way, he was up in seconds, pulling a blanket and pillow out of the closet. He swiftly folded the blanket on the couch and tossed the pillow down. "Here."
She eyed him curiously before raising her eyebrow at him.
"This Fabray," he started, pointing to the couch, "is me caring. I suggest you get off the floor and up on the couch before I change my mind. Oh and don't get use to this. I can promise you that this will be the only act of kindness you will be getting from me."
The two quickly traded spots; Quinn rested peacefully on the couch, while Jesse tossed and turned on the floor. He hated himself for giving into her. In fact, he was mentally kicking himself now for doing it. What was he thinking? Compassion was not a gene he carried around him with. He despised it and only appreciated it when it was being directed toward him. She made him weak though, saying the words that played on what little sympathy he had left in his heart. If she was staying until after Thanksgiving he'd have to be careful with her. He'd ultimately have to stay on his toes when dealing with her.
After all, he was Jesse St. James, and nobody made him weak.
A/N: Again hope you enjoy! The next chapters will more than likely be longer. I just needed this chapter to help set up the plot of the story.