A/N: Hello! Looks like you found this one. Just a few words before we begin, for anyone other than me that reads the author's notes. I have no smut planned for this story. It's got it's rating because my MC has a bit of a mouth. Also, I have no idea how often I'll be able to post, since I've got a bit on my plate between work, editing my book, and planning a move. Also, since this starts halfway through season 2, it'll be a while before we get to the RoryxOC. Just letting you know. Now, on with the story!

Chapter One

While Puck was trapped in the port-a-john, he had a lot of time to think things over. He knew he'd messed up a great deal of things, but he was determined to make things right. The light blinded him when the door was opened, but he could see the hand that was reaching toward him in an offering of escape.

"Dude, are you alright? You smell like shit," said the voice as he crawled out of the port-a-john that had been his prison. Puck blinked away the blindness and recognized Jeremy; new at school, new blocker for the football team.

"Thanks, man," Puck said. "I was stuck in there for hours."

"You were actually only in there for the ten minutes it took those Neanderthals to go away," Jeremy said.

"Oh," Puck said, running a hand over his mohawk. Then, a brilliant idea hit him. "Dude, think you can do me another favor?"

Jerermy shrugged. "Sure," he said. "Not like I'm doing anything right now, anyway."

"We're one short in Glee, and Sectionals is tonight," Puck said. "Think you could sway in the background for us?" Jeremy shrugged again.

"Sure," he said. "What do I need to do?"

"Just come with me to the choir room, we'll get everything straightened out there," Puck replied. Jeremy nodded.

"Lead the way," he said, motioning towards the school.

Mag was worried. She'd been at McKinley High for exactly two weeks, and her cover was already under fire. The only people that knew she wasn't really Jeremy Black were the principal and the counselor, and she knew they wouldn't talk. Her files were under lock and key; even the teachers couldn't get to them. She'd had to wave a lot of money around, but she'd been able to enroll as Jeremy and join the football team. She had to wrap her chest every day, and her gym class was the last of her school day so that she didn't have to worry about showering with the guys. Who would've thought that Glee Club would be the thing to endanger her front?

As she followed Puck to the choir room, ignoring his rambling about their costumes and songs, and the reason they were one short, she thanked her lucky stars that she was an alto. She could fake it for the tenor lines, but she was screwed if they asked her to cover bass.

With another lucky stroke, the guy she was standing in for had been some kind of soprano, so her notes were well within her range. The costume was simple, just a maroon button down and some black pants, but that, surprisingly enough, brought up the first suspicions.

"Dude, are you wearing a bra?" Finn asked as he buttoned up his own shirt.

"It's not a bra," Mag defended, throwing her arms through the sleeves of her shirt and starting the buttoning process at the top. "It's a brace. I fucked my back up in a car wreck a few years back, and I've got a couple metal plates in my back instead of discs. I've got to wear the brace for football practice. Lay off."

"Jesus, calm down, man," Sam said. "He was just asking a question."

There were no other threats to her secret, and, despite the drama in the green room, they managed to tie for first, which made them eligible for Regionals in a few months. Whether Mag would still be there for it, she wasn't sure, but they seemed like a decent enough group. Instead of celebrating with the group when they got back to McKinley, Mag took off, citing work.

"What kind of job makes a sixteen-year-old start their shift at seven o'clock at night?" Mr. Schuester, the Glee Club coach, asked her.

"The kind that keeps a roof over my head," she responded. "I got emancipated right before I moved here, and it was the only job that paid enough for me to get my apartment and offered flexible hours so that I could continue with school. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd rather not get fired."

The beat was heavy as Mag wrapped her legs around the pole, letting the centrifugal force pull her torso out, giving the crowd a nice shot of her cleavage. She pulled her back to the pole, grabbing on as the world spun around her. Her legs spread as gravity reestablished its hold on her, and up was once again up. Leaving the pole, she crawled across the stage, allowing the faceless men to tuck ones and fives into her bra until she came across one face that made her pause.

"Jeremy?" Puck asked, a five dollar bill clutched in his hand and a look of shock across his face.

"We'll talk in my dressing room," she whispered, pressing up against him and taking the five dollar bill. "Tell them you're there to see Mag."

She moved on to the next patron, her sultry show face well in place, despite the worry streaking across her mind. Her secret was blown.

Mag's song ended, and she headed back to her dressing room, a silky robe wrapped around her body and a wad of cash in her hand. When she opened the door, he was sitting in the chair at her vanity, so she collapsed on the couch.

"So... you're a chick?" he asked slowly, as if searching for a tactful way to broach the subject.

"You can't tell anyone," she said, throwing an arm over her eyes. "I can't deal with that right now."

"Why the cover?" he asked. "Why come to school as a guy when you work in a strip joint? If anyone at school knew about what you just did out there, you'd be a goddess."

"Yeah, but being a chick comes with emotions," Mag said. "As a guy, I can get through a day without some random friend coming up to me and saying 'Aww, what's wrong, Peach?' It just makes things a whole hell of a lot easier."

"That definitely explains why you never stick around to shower after practice," Puck said. Mag let her arm drop and sat up, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Do you have any idea how gay that sounded just now?" she asked. Puck shrugged.

"Karofsky said you were probably embarrassed because you had a tiny dick," Puck said.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure Karofsky's in the closet, so he'd be the one to say that," Mag said. "Look, I've had a shitty life, and pretending to be a guy makes dealing with it a lot easier. Is there anything I can do to make sure you won't say anything about this?"

"You realize it'll eventually get out, right?" Puck asked. Mag shrugged.

"I'm sure it will," she said. "But right now, you, Pillsbury, and Figgins are the only ones that know about me. Not even the teachers know. Hopefully, when word does get out, I'll be more ready to handle it." Puck nodded.

"I'll keep your secret if you stay in the Glee Club," he said. Mag laughed.

"What is it with you and that club?" she asked. "You don't seem like the singing type." Puck shrugged.

"I like it. And we need twelve members to compete," Puck said. Mag sighed.

"Alright, I'm in," she said. "It'll be nice to have a group of people to watch my back when everything goes down."

"When everything goes down?" he asked.

"I can't exactly expect everything to be peachy keen when people find out I'm actually female," she said. Puck nodded.

"The kids at our school are that stupid," he commented, as if to himself. "So what are you doing working at a strip club?"

"What are you doing visiting one?" she shot back.

"We just won Sectionals," he said. "I'm allowed to celebrate."

"Something's got to keep a roof over my head," she said. "I wasn't lying when I told Schuester I just got emancipated. That actually happened. And money doesn't exactly grow on trees. Food Stamps wouldn't have gotten me enough to eat, and Section 8 places aren't exactly in the best parts."

"So how did you get in here? Didn't you say you're only sixteen?" Puck asked.

"The owner's a friend of mine," she said. "He offered me a job as a server, but I make better money on the stage. He doesn't actually have to pay me anything, but we've got a direct deposit account set up for tax purposes. All of the money goes back to him, and he owns the building that I rent at."

"So you're doing everything by the books, but still coming out on top?" Puck asked. Mag raised an eyebrow at him again.

"You think this is coming out on top?" she asked. "I take off my clothes, strange men grope me, and my money comes out of my ass crack half the time. But the bills get paid, and I only have to work a few nights a week in order to live on my own."

"Doesn't seem too bad," he said.

"And it'll all be over in a couple of years, when I finish high school and head off to college," she said. "Max'll give me an outstanding reference as an employer and a landlord, and I'll have enough saved up to go to college without accumulating thousands of dollars in student loan debt."

"Huh," Puck said, eyebrows raised in appreciation for her scheme. "Think he might be in need of a bouncer? I could use some extra cash." Mag laughed.

"I'll check with him later," she said. "In the mean time, think I can get my dressing room to myself? I gotta head home and work on my math homework."

"I've just got one more question," he said as he backed away towards the door. Mag nodded, urging him to go on. "That stuff you said about your back, was there any truth in that?" Mag scoffed.

"Do you think I'd be able to do what I just did out there if there was any truth to that steaming pile of crap?" she asked. "But a story like that will be enough to keep people off of my back for a while."

"Huh," Puck said, nodding as he opened the door. "Makes sense."

"Now get outta here," she said, pushing him out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

No sooner than she shut the door and slipped out of her robe did the door open again. She held her robe against her body, thinking it was Puck again, and whirled around. Max was leaning against the doorframe, his body shaking in silent laughter.

"What's up, Max?" she asked, throwing her robe to the couch and grabbing her street clothes.

"Just checking one of my girls," he said. "Who was that guy?"

"Just someone from school," she said, throwing her shirt over her head.

"I take it he knows your secret now?" he asked.

"No shit," she said. "Recognized me when I was going around for my tips."

"I take it he's gonna keep his trap shut?" he asked.

"We made an agreement," she said, pulling her pants on.

"What kind of agreement?" he asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Not that kind of agreement," she said, throwing her hairbrush at him. "He'll keep his trap shut as long as I stay in the Glee Club at school." Max raised an eyebrow. "I know, right?"

"How's that gonna help you keep your secret?" he asked, closing the door and lounging on the couch. "Don't you have to sing in Glee Clubs?" Mag shrugged.

"I'm an alto," she said. "I can make it work."

"If you say so," he said, holding his hands up in defeat. "But they will find out eventually."

"I am well aware of that," she said, wiping the make up off of her face. "But I'm bound to mess it up anyways. It'll be better if I have a group of people in the know, people to fall back on when the rest of the school tries to tear me apart." "As long as you know what you're doing," he said, sitting up. "How much was your take?"

"I haven't had a chance to count it yet," she said, handing him the wad of bills. "But it feels like a good five."

"Five hundred?" he asked, weighing it in his hands as she threw her shoulder-length hair back in a ponytail.

"No, five dollars," she said sarcastically. "Yes five hundred."

"Count it when you get home," he said, tossing the money back to her. "After you finish your homework."

"Sure thing, Dad," she said, putting the money in her backpack and throwing it over her shoulders. Max shook his head.

"One of these days you're gonna catch your death from the cold," he said.

"It's just across the alley," she said, heading for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Max waved her off, and she made her way out the back door, across the alley, and into her building without any hassle.

Her apartment wasn't huge, but it was more than enough for her. Two bedrooms, a bathroom with a giant tub, a decent kitchen (with a dishwasher, thank God), and a balcony. It was more than she could've asked for, but it was the only thing Max had open when she had come running. She dropped her backpack on the table, hooked her mp3 player up to the speakers, and set some music on low before pulling out that dreaded math homework.