A/N: Hi there! Okay, apologies for the slow update, but I'm a little anal when it comes to this story. I actually have 5 different drafts of this chapter, and I've written and re-written this so many times, at some point I told myself that I had to put a foot down. So I consulted in a friend of mine, who have read my stuff since ten years ago, and she gave me great direction.

Enjoy!

xXx
CeruleanBlues


The Housemate Agreement

Chapter 2

He was late.

As usual.

Punctuality hadn't always been Sam Evans' strongest suit, but it wasn't his fault at all that his roommate had to be so goddamn noisy at night. How was it that Noah Puckerman always managed to scout out some unsuspecting damsel in a bar and bring her back to their apartment, was beyond him—or had it always been the same girl? Either way, between trying to cancel out the excruciatingly loud moans and carnal pants, it was an impossible feat to ever get any shut-eye without needing to park himself out in the lift lobby.

Fuck my life.

"Could you step on it? I'm extremely late for a very important meeting," he grumbled, leaning forward between the two front seats of the vehicle.

The cab driver glanced over at him through the rearview mirror and smirked, his thick moustache twitching as he narrowed his dark eyes. "You were a jerk to that young lady, and I can very well just ask you to get out of my cab, so I suggest you suck it up and let me do my job."

Fucking son of a bitch.

Frankly, he wouldn't even have gone all the way there to get his daily caffeine fix at such an ungodly hour if this meeting didn't hold any significance. It had taken them months of persistent persuasion to arrange for this and he couldn't afford to screw it up now—not when they were oh, so close.

"Yeah, but you don't understand," Sam went on, trying to reinstate his point. "I can't be late for this meeting. It's really important for me and my band."

"A band, huh?" the Mexican guy sneered.

Sighing, the musician glared ahead at the unrelenting traffic, hoping that his non-existent Jedi mind trick would miraculously part the way, like Moses parting the Red Sea. Perhaps if he focused hard enough, he could make the car fly.

Yeah, right.

"We're meeting a really famous producer today, and we've been trying to get a hold of her for ages, so I would really appreciate it if you could drive faster. I'll even mention you in my acknowledgements," he retorted, waving his hands in a dramatic flourish.

If he saw the other guy roll his eyeballs in the reflection, Sam didn't comment on it, but God, how he hated the morning crawl. The congestion was something he definitely could do without, even though he was usually a subway sort of guy. When he first arrived in The Big Apple, the never-ending dynamics of the city was the first thing that captivated him. Granted, the dominating skyscrapers were rather suffocating and bitter, but it was a mark of success, and despite its immensely daunting appearance, he knew that the air was filled with glitter and gold dust.

Staring out at the passing buildings, he took a sip of his coffee and envisioned their faces on the huge billboards, decked in bright lights and swarming with delighted fans. He spied the famous record store, where countless of artistes like himself had graced and launched their careers. A line of screaming teenagers would anxiously be awaiting their arrival—in a limo, no less—and he'd step out to the flashes of cameras in his face, the paparazzi gathered all around for a shot of them. They would smile and wave, and then go on tour for a whirlwind ride of a celebrity's life, all the while doing what they truly love. It couldn't get any better than that.

Reigning from the south, Sam had always envied the sophistication of the north—of how nothing seemed to deter it of its suave demeanor. The urbanity of New York City drew him in like a moth to a flame, and he was blessed to acquire band mates who shared the same interests and goals that he did; but who was to say that the journey was easy? Months of failed auditions and slews of irrelevant gigs were rendering the group pretty discouraged, but they were all aware that it was simply a rite of passage that every struggling musician had to go through.

Finally, this was their ticket to stardom.

"Alright, here you go, Keith Richards" the cab driver announced, pulling up by the curb of a high-rise tower. "Nineteen dollars and sixty cents."

I guess it's going to be mac and cheese from now on.

Nevertheless, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two crumpled ten-dollar bills and handed it over to the man. "Keep the change," he said and hopped out of the taxi. Gulping down the rest of his beverage, he tossed the empty cup into the bin and dashed through the huge swivel door.

Wow!

Like everything else, the place didn't disappoint. The vastness of the space created a sense of modernity with its linear structure, bold choices of furniture, perfectly waxed flooring, a ceiling that looked endless, and walls that hung massive pictures of legends and A-listers. His swoon-fest was short-lived, however, when he caught sight of the clock on the wall.

Oh, shit!

He skidded over to the lift lobby, pleased to find that one was open and ready for his arrival. Entering the cabin, he pressed for it to bring him up to the established floor.

Unbelievable.

Even the elevator was taunting him, taking its own sweet time to ascend to the appointed level, in total disregard to his urgency. Nothing seemed to be cooperating with him that morning, and just his luck; the heavens would choose that particular day to play a cruel practical joke on him. Tapping his foot impatiently against the marble floor, Sam lifted his arm and checked his watch. He unleashed a string of fluently rich vocabulary into the air and then started jabbing at the button by the side of the door in frustration, cursing for it to travel faster.

"You're late."

He was greeted by his best friend's grim expression the instant the door slid open. Finn Hudson's lips were set in a thin line and his brows furrowed in disapproval, clearly displeased with Sam's tardiness. Usually a rather laid-back sort of guy, his burly built was slightly hunched over, and the stress lines were starting to show.

"I know, I'm sorry," Sam told him apologetically.

"Where were you? You told me that you were on your way twenty minutes ago."

"There was this chick and—"

"Damnit, Sam, there's always a chick, isn't it?" Finn snorted, leading them down the wide corridor. "I can't believe it. Do you know how difficult it was to arrange for this meeting?"

"I know, I know," Sam shamefully hung his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his denim pants. "But I had to sleep in the hallway again. Puckerman was making such a ruckus last night."

Against his better judgment, Finn snickered in understanding, slowly shaking his head. "Was it Santana?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Sam said, "I have no fucking clue. She was loud, like really loud."

"She once told me that my dick was invisible."

Sam balanced between bursting out into rude laughter and keeping his amusement to himself. Finn came to a stop in front of a door and gave it several light knocks before promptly entering the room.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Evans. You're late."

Sue Sylvester's voice sliced through the thin silence in the air, clipped and curt, as he shamefully entered the room. Head bowed low, he tried to avoid the piercing glares of his three other comrades, and swiftly parked himself in an unoccupied spot on the leather couch, mumbling a half-hearted apology in an attempt to justify his tardiness.

Grimacing, he lowered himself down in an unoccupied seat. "I know, and I'm really sorry, but there was this chick and—"

"I don't care," the woman interrupted, sticking her nose up in the air. "You see, Mr. Evans, punctuality has always been a problem with those who think that the world revolves around them and their approval."

Sam could feel three other pairs of eyes burning holes into his skull, and he shrank back into his chair. Gathering an appropriate amount of courage, he lifted his eyes up and dared himself to face her. Sitting right smack in the center of the office behind an unnecessarily colossal desk, she had her fingers poised to rest beneath her chin. Reputedly, she was an extremely intimidating woman, and he couldn't agree more. Her short dirty blonde hair was slicked to the back and a permanent scowl was etched on her stone-set face.

"It's not like that, I swear—"

Her hand shot up, the storm brewing behind her cold exterior. "Must I remind you boys that you're not a star until you've attained at least one multi-platinum record and sold-out concerts worldwide? I'm deeply unimpressed by your lack of interest. Clearly your priorities lie somewhere else."

"Sue, it's not—" Finn tried to reason out, but when he received a sharp glare from her, quickly caught himself and realized his mistake. "Sorry, I mean, Ms. Sylvester, you have no idea how honored we are that you're taking time off from your busy schedule to meet us, and I apologize for my band mate's unintentional disregard for your policies. I promise you that it won't happen again."

"It better not, Mr. Hudson," she snarled menacingly. "You owe your friend a drink, Mr. Evans. He just saved your sorry ass."

"Yes ma'am."

Beside him, Puck was sniggering in his seat. With a scowl, Sam discreetly kicked his ankle, effectively shutting him up. He was already humiliated enough as it was without needing his friend to add salt to the wound.

It was that blonde girl—the one with the rose-tinted sunglasses—who had been the devil of the morning, coming in and turning his life upside down, inside out and backwards front. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? Ever since he had barged in on her queue—fine, he was being a jerk about that—and paid for her coffee, it was like he'd unknowingly signed some kind of psychopath treaty or something.

She popped up every time he turned around, all up in his business, invading his personal space with all her sass and bossiness; he reckoned it must be just pent-up sexual frustration. It tended to happen from time to time; girls coming up and throwing themselves at him—perhaps it was the Southern charm—and it couldn't help to have a little fun. She was so worked up about every small thing; it was almost too cute, really. He couldn't resist it.

So he kissed her.

It was nice; nothing earth-shattering, but there was still the lingering taste of her strawberry lip-gloss. Unconsciously, Sam poked his tongue out from between his mouth and ran it across the small opening.

"I've heard the demo song that was sent to me," Sue informed them in nonchalance.

"And what do you think of it?" Puck asked, eagerly leaning forward for the verdict. He had, after all, written the entire thing.

"It didn't speak to me," Sue replied monotonously. "It lacked finesse and it's not something I haven't heard before. Frankly, it's not the type of material that can be used for a debut single, you follow? There isn't an identity to it. I'm sorry, boys. That just won't do."

Dejected, Puck shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Sam felt his stomach sink. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"So, what does that mean for us?" Rory Flanagan spoke up for the first time that day, his thick Irish accent weirdly pronouncing certain words.

"I'm sorry, boys, it's a no go for me."

Finn was practically at the edge of his seat now. "But—but we—"

"There's got to be something we can do, right?" Puck blurted out.

"I can't allow it. The four of you aren't ready yet."

What does that mean?

"That can't be right," Finn said, denial strong in his tone. "We've been ready for a very long time, I mean, we've search everywhere for the perfect producer and—"

"Let me finish, will you?" Sue interrupted his rant. "I can't give you a record deal at the moment, however, I have a proposition for you."


A/N: Alright, so it's a little rough around the edges, and it's kind of slow at the moment, but it'll pick up from here, I promise. I just needed to establish the characters and the situation, and it'll be rock and roll from here on! There are little similarities between this chapter and the previous one, if you happen to realize it :P A big thank you to everyone who has stuck by me and my stories, and read and reviewed the previous chapter!

Gleeothfriends90210ccjsdAMD: LOL! That's a really long name! I've figured out "oth" as One Tree Hill, and I love FRIENDS, and 90210 is self-explanatory, but I'm interested to know what 'ccjsd' and 'AMD' stands for :D Anyway, thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story! I really appreciate it!

Tomorrow. will. be. kinder: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing the previous chapter. I'm glad you like it so far. I have really high expectations for this story, and as much as I try to rush myself, I feel that perfecting each chapter takes time, which I guess accounts for the slow update. Hope you've enjoyed this chapter!

Quam314159: Hi! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it!

RJRRAA: Hello there! Much like my other story, I'd like to thank you so much for taking time to read and review the previous chapter! I hope you'll enjoy this story!

Fabrevansgleek: Thank you for reading and reviewing! It's always appreciated.

ReadingFanfiction13: Hi! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I'm glad you find some humor in the story. Well, I guess after reading this chapter, you can tell that Quinn is not the only one with a bad day :D Hope you like it!

FabrevansIsEndgame: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

LilaPoland: Hello! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I'm glad you liked it!

Ali-and-em: Thank you very much for stopping by to read and review!

Laceleatherlove: Hi! LOL! I'm glad you liked how the first chapter went! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you've enjoyed this update!

FabrevansOTP: Hi there! Thank you so much for the lovely comments! I'm glad you liked the previous chapter! I appreciated it a lot!

VoteFabray4PromQueen: Hello there! Yes, I definitely recognized you from Whisper in my Ear. Thank you so much for the faith and encouragement! I'm glad you like the story so far! I really appreciate you reading and reviewing!

Mandorac: Whoots! I was doing my happy dance when I saw that you've reviewed this story! After all that drama with Whisper in my Ear, I hope this story gets a fresh start. First of all, thank you for all your encouragements! You've been a big inspiration and a big help in my writing. LOL! I guess, because I work in a similar metropolitan environment, it has some reflection on how I perceive a big city, and how at times, I just want to escape it all and go some place quiet. It's weird, isn't it, the Yankee-Sam, when he's actually quite Southern. Hehe! I was contemplating on the ONE thing that would send Quinn off the edge, and I think that one thing would be a stranger violating her personal space, 'cause she such a feminist that way. The next meet-up wouldn't be too soon, because there are certain situations that I still need to establish for this story, but it's all in my head now, and I can't wait to write it! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I totally appreciate it!

PatrickJ87: Awwww! I'm glad that I've made you smile! Yes, Sam does have an ego, and I think it'll be fun exploring that! Much like you, I find his jerk self quite endearing, but maybe it's because I'm biased that way :P Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I hope I didn't disappoint you in this chapter :D

DeGleesi: Hi there! Thank you so much for hopping over and reading this story and leaving a review! I've always been a suck for stories where two people hate each other and then end up falling for each other, and even though that's like a major spoiler—not to mention totally predictable—I can't help being constantly drawn to these sappy cliché stories. I'm glad you like the story so far!