New PUCKLEBERRY story, wheyyyyy! Urm, so, enjoy:
The ad had gone up two freakin' days ago, and already they'd had 72 applications. How was this possible? Surely there weren't that many people in the world looking for a tiny apartment to be shared between three people on the outskirts of New York, so close to the train station that every time a train went past the whole place trembled. Many a beer bottle (some of them with beer still in, even) was lost to the damned 'till late' trains going past their apartment, but still, 72… no, 73, another just pinged into his inbox… 73 people wanted to move in with Puck and his best friend Finn, two messy 22 year olds who bummed around playing video games when they weren't working at their badly paid jobs in a temp agency (that admittedly landed them a lot of tail) or trying, and usually failing, to make it into the music industry with their so far unnamed band.
Their lack of funds meant they needed a third person to take up residence (and with it a part of the rent) in the room they had so far been using a band practise room, much to the dismay of their neighbour, Mr Mookiepook. His actual name was Mr Mckaparo or something, but Puck and Finn had taken to calling him Mookiepook because of their dislike for him, their inability to pronounce his name, and the fact that he had many, many cats, and made an annoying habit of baby-talking to all of them.
So, Puck and Finn were up at 3:45am on a Tuesday, they're only day off, attempting to sift through the 73 applications that had come by mail, email and numerous late night phone calls (which Puck had chosen to immediately strike off the list, due mainly to them waking him up when he had to work the next day).
"Shit, man, another one just cam through." Puck yelled at Finn, who was sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by information about potential roommates, from his position at their shared laptop. "That ad was totally worth it."
Finn looked overwhelmed. "How are we gonna decide?"
Puck laughed at his friend's ever-confused face. "Dude, I think we can afford to be picky." He picked up the pile of maybes they'd collected so far. "For example, guy with dog–" he threw it on the no pile, "girl who made joke about bad hair day in statement–" another no, "guy who may or may not be gay–" it joined the other nos.
Finn frowned. "There's nothing wrong with gay guys, dude."
Puck nodded, "I know that much, man, but I can't be assed to go through the coming out part. It's all emotional and angst-y and not what we're looking for." He glanced at the stack of papers he had in his hand. "Talking of which, bi-polar girl, dude, why was this in the maybe pile?"
With a shrug, Finn turned back to sorting applications. "I felt sorry for her."
"Well no more." Puck nodded, mainly to himself. "From now on, only the best of the best of the best, sir!"
Finn's brow furrowed. "What?"
Rolling his eyes, he ignored his friend's bewilderment. "Just think, with every applicant, what can we get out of it?"
Puck opened up the latest applicant's email and scanned what she'd put in it. It seemed she was a 20 year old actress, very clean and tidy (even mentioning her willingness to tidy up after others) and that she was Jewish – score – and then she went on to explain that she didn't have a lot of money to spare, but she had nice things that they could use, and pretty much outlined why she was the best person to live with them as if she were applying for a job.
After rereading everything she said to make sure he'd read it right the first time, Puck scrolled to the bottom of the email and clicked on an attachment. It was a copy of her work's résumé. She'd been on Broadway! God Damn Broadway! Why the hell did she want to live in a crapheap like this?
"Dude." Puck tore his eyes away from the perfect applicant for a moment to turn to his best friend. "I've found one."
Because they'd agreed from the start that they were going to make a shortlist to start, they invited five applicants. Puck had a good idea which one they were going to choose, but they wanted to pretend to be fair, and they figured throwing in a bit of competition meant they could get a bit more out of the 'Potentials', as they were calling them.
They'd invited them to visit through the day on their next Tuesday off. The first one had track marks, and couldn't remember the fake name he'd given them, so they didn't even let him get through the door. Number two was ugly, and Puck kindly explained to Finn that having an ugly roommate would not help their reputation. The third was a no show, and the fourth was… well… kinda desperate…
"So you'll call me?" He cowered, one foot still in the apartment, clinging to the doorframe as if they were trying to throw him out on his ass. Which they kinda were.
Puck nodded without making eye contact. "Sure, sure."
"And my chances are…?" He pulled a puppy-dog face, one that would normally work on Finn, but he'd used it so many times already that he'd actually become immune.
Finn smiled, edging to the door to push it closed. "Well it wouldn't be fair if we told you, now would it?"
The guy nodded a bit too enthusiastically, causing him to trip backwards, losing his hold on the door long enough for Puck to yell a "See ya!" and slam it shut.
The pair of best friends held their backs up to the door, remaining silent as the guy continued to ask them again if they were going to call, double checking they'd written down the number correctly, and – what sounded like – kissing the door…
As soon as they were sure he was gone, they relaxed and threw themselves on the sofa, recovering from what felt like three hours of clinginess, which was probably more like a drawn out half an hour.
Finally, Finn spoke. "So. He was…"
Puck nodded. "He was…"
Finn finished. "Kinda clingy?"
"To say the least!" Puck laughed. "It reminds me of the kid, you know, the one that every high school has? The one who desperately wants to be cool, so he hangs out with the popular kids hoping that some of their cool rubs off on him."
Chuckling, Finn gazed into nowhere. "Stevie Pope."
"Stevie Pope." Puck sighed. "Poor kid. He tried so hard, but kids could just not see past the headgear."
There was a moment of silence before they both snorted into laughter, and when they're eyes met they simultaneously scribbled his name off of the list.
"So I guess it's just option number five." Puck smirked at his page.
He'd let Finn chose the other four, because he wanted to have Rachel Berry on the shortlist and Finn had thought she sounded too squeaky clean and a little controlling, and they'd all turned out to be the worst choices ever.
Finn rolled his eyes. "I guess so. Hey, she'd betted be good, man."
Puck smiled. "I chose her man, she's gotta be."
At that moment, a knock came from the door.
The two got up and headed to the doorway. Puck pulled back the door.
There stood the tiniest woman he'd ever seen. The top of her hair came just up to his shoulder, and he was slouching. On Finn, she only just reached his moobs. Normally, Puck would have chuckled to himself because a) she's a short-ass and b) he'd just noticed the fact that Finn had a little bit of moobage going on, but he didn't. He couldn't think about anything but the midget, because she literally radiated beauty. He'd heard people talk about people radiating beauty, but he'd always said it was baloney, in so many words, but there was no denying that she had beauty shooting out of every orifice. And not just the typical full-lips, thick, brown waves of hair, amazing body (though the boobs were modest, they totally suited her), wide smile (god, that smile), gorgeous eyes… not just that kind of beauty. It was beauty that came from a genuine smile and real eye contact (something that immediately told Puck she couldn't be from Manhattan) and some semblance of self-confidence that hinted she could hold her own and knew what she could do, but still had an air of insecurity that was begging to be hugged out of her. Like real, chest-to-chest, arms wrapped around her hugs. Not just that, but he really, really wanted to have sex with her. Yeah, sex like a man and stuff…
He didn't know how long he stood there gormlessly staring at her thinking his pansy thoughts before the silence got too uncomfortable and she broke it with an awkward laugh (setting off another practically female internal spout about how great her laugh was; note to Puck, make her laugh more).
Finn finally said something. "Ur, hi, sorry. Come in."
Puck took this as his cue to move out of her way, and only when she was in and the door was closed did he even thin to greet her.
"Hi, This is Pinn and I'm–"
"Puck!" Finn quickly interrupted before Puck had realised what he was about to say. "I'm Finn and this is Puck."
She nodded. "Nice to meet you, I'm Rachel Berry."
Puck internally slapped himself for ruining the very first thing he had said to this goddess – this woman, just a woman, like any other – before him.
He quickly made up an excuse. "Sorry, I'm a little drunk."
Even as he finished the sentence, before he saw her confusion and Finn's appalled expression, he hated himself. Why the hell was he being like this? He hadn't been this nervous around a girl since middle school, and that was only because he was scared she was going to give him his third detention in three days (and she did; Momma Puck was mad).
He resolved to just sit quietly through the interview. Of course, his big mouth had other ideas.
A few seconds after deciding to shut the hell up, he asked her to sit down and offered up Finn as a slave to her drinking needs, quickly adding he didn't mean alcoholic drinks, and oh by the way he was joking when he'd said he was drunk, he was like that, joking a lot, did she like jokes, and would you be prepared to put up with jokes around the apartment when you moved in, because he could stop if it made her uncomfortable, and oh there he goes practically telling her she already has the apartment when they haven't made their final decision yet, Finn's probably gonna tell him off later for that, but yeah in all seriousness you're a shoe in, I mean, from the information you've given us you're the perfect applicant, in my opinion at least, Finn wasn't so sure, not sure what he thinks now, should probably stop talking and find out…
He'd been talking for about five minutes straight without breath, not letting the perfect girl – normal girl, average in fact – or Finn for that matter, get a word in edgeways.
Finally, Rachel spoke. "And I thought I talked a lot."
Finn chuckled. "So can I get you something to drink?"
She nodded and took a seat. "I'll have tea, with honey, if possible."
Puck sat opposite her as Finn left.
"Sorry." He stopped at the one word this time before he got too carried away, again.
She nodded. "That's alright. I tend to do that myself."
Nodding, Puck replied, "See, I don't. Normally I'm a man of very few words, but for some reason I just got carried away."
Rachel smiled. "It's because you're attracted to me."
Puck's jaw dropped. "Um…"
"It's perfectly alright," she continued, "I'm extremely attractive, not to mention physically fit and flexible – not that you can see how flexible I am by looking at me. In fact, I'll bet until I mentioned it, you probably hadn't even thought about how flexible I am." Puck almost nodded in agreement, but decided it was a bad idea to let her that he was now thinking about pretzel sex. "But I am very flexible. I've been put through dancing and gymnastics since I could walk, so I am bendy to say the least. So, I guess you can say I am used to men finding me attractive, for those among other reasons. Also, I should mention that while I find your physical attributes pleasing to look at, like your obviously muscular form, masculine jaw line and bad boy Mohawk, I find myself more attracted to characteristics, such as kindness, honesty and a good sense of humour, so I feel it necessary to tell you there would never really be anything between us. And tha–"
Suddenly, Puck was kissing her. Anything to stop his dream girl – and yes, he was admitting this really was his dream girl – from continuing to explain to him why he wasn't good enough. For a moment she just let him control the pace, and then she pushed back, their lips fighting to gain an advantage over the other as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he gripped her waist.
And then it stopped. She released his mouth, unhooked her fingers from his hair and gave a gentle push on his chest so that he would return to his seat. He did so, not wanting to force her into anything she didn't want to do, but nonetheless disappointed.
"That was…" Rachel coughed. "You are an exceptional kisser."
At that moment, Finn came back in carrying a cup of tea with a small sachet of honey, which they'd stolen from a small café downstairs because the owner occasionally slammed a broomstick on the ceiling to get them to turn down their amps during rehearsal, and two cups of coffee for Puck and him.
He chuckled to himself. "I hope he didn't talk too much."
Rachel glanced at Puck. "No, he got straight to the point."
He sat his tray down on the table and told Rachel to help herself.
"So Rachel, um…" Finn shrugged. "Ur, tell us about yourself?"
Rachel sat up. "Well, I'm originally from Ohio."
"Oh?" Finn smiled. "So are we. Whereabouts?"
"A small town called Findlay. Have you heard of it?"
Puck gaped. "That's just 40 minutes up the 81 from Lima, where we came from! What are the odds?"
She smiled at him briefly. "Slim." And then she turned back to face Finn. "Well, while I was there my dads put me through every dance, singing and acting lesson they could, and I joined–"
"Sorry," Finn interrupted. "Can I just ask, dads?"
Rachel immediately frowned. "I have gay fathers; do you have a problem with that?"
"No!" Finn held up his hands in mock surrender. "I have a gay step-brother."
She turned on Puck. "And you?"
He shrugged. "No male role model at all."
Rachel's eyes narrowed. "And I go two. How unfair for you." She looked over to Finn again, sweetness once again on her features. "Like I was saying, I joined every performing club I could, like the musical society, the glee club, the bent-on-Broadway online social club – only to scope out competition, of course – and many others. I ranked extremely highly in the class, and my talents meant I was given a scholarship to Julliard, where I got an excellent education. I have since been acting on stage in musicals."
Puck finished this for her. "On Broadway."
She looked at him. "Well, I'm getting there."
Puck's eyebrows pulled together. "But you said in your application that you were on Broadway?"
Rachel paused. "Um, it actually said I will be on Broadway."
"So," he was confused. "You're not actually there yet?"
She shook her head. "But I will be."
With a frown, Puck leant forward and looked her in the eye. "How exactly can you be sure of that?"
Rachel stared him down, noticing to herself how wonderful the colour of his eyes was. "I just know. I always have."
They continued staring at each other for few seconds, before Puck finally said. "Okay."
It was Rachel's turn to frown. "Okay what?"
"Okay," Puck answered, "You're going to be on Broadway. And, okay," He smirked the smirk he hadn't smirked since high school because he hadn't had a reason to since then, "You can move in on Thursday."
So, I've tried to keep the characters as similar to the show as possible, but they have to fit this story so they may be a tiny bit different. Hope you liked it and fingers crossed other chaps to come soon.
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