a/n: Hi people! The response to the first chapter really got me excited! I can't thank you all enough. I really can't. FF's alerts got screwed up after I posted the first chapter so if I didn't reply to your review, I'm so sorry. I do most review replies from my phone but if I don't get the review alert from FF, I have no way of replying until I'm on a computer with internet. In this chapter, our songwriter is introduced (wonder who that could be) and some more of our secondary characters. I know it's short but the chapters will get a bit longer once the story progresses. That background mixing thing I talked about in the first chapter might make just a little sense now…if not, just ask me what I'm going on about. Hope everyone enjoys it! Thank you for reading lovelies! I don't own Glee…
When Puck rolled over and saw who it was calling him at such an ungodly hour on a fucking Saturday, he almost chucked the phone at the wall so it would shut up and let him go back to sleep. Instead, he hit 'ignore' (that seemed less destructive than breaking yet another phone) and rolled over only to be greeted by a mess of unruly auburn curls attacking his face.
That woke him up.
He sat up in his bed and looked down at the woman beside him. What was her name again? His brain scrambled to remember something he'd called her the night before, anything at all. He really doubted her name was "I'm Glad You Came" so her tramp stamp provided no help at all.
Before any names popped into his head, (had they even bothered to exchange names?) the damn phone started going off again. With a growl, he grabbed his phone and a pair of boxers so he could take the call without waking Tramp Stamp up.
Groggily, he slipped his boxers on outside his room and let the phone ring a little longer, almost hoping the guy would just give up.
"Do you know what time it is," he growled into the phone. The haughty chuckle he received in response made his jaw clench.
"Oh what happened? Did I almost wake the flavor of the night?" Puck rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. Leon, his agent, knew him too well sometimes.
"What do you want Leon? This better be good." Puck walked into his office, technically a home studio, and sat down at his computer. Might as well check email and shit while Leon tried to sell him on whatever new idea he had.
"You've been requested. The label wants you to come in and work with this new singer they've signed. They say she's really great, has a crazy amazing voice, but her songwriting leaves much to be desired. They want the best songwriter to work with her and that's you." Puck had started shaking his head as soon as Leon said the words 'new singer'.
"Leon you know I hate working with 'label babies'. I don't want to do it." He hated how much he sounded like a kid being told to clean his room but the fact remained. He had no desire to work directly with a new singer just because her label thought she needed work. And yeah, maybe she did need help. Honestly, considering some of the shit music most labels were cranking out, if they thought the chick needed work, she was probably horrible. What was she writing about that had them cringing anyway? Hair accessories? Then he realized that Leon was talking again.
"And your writing will broaden the album's appeal. Plus, if you get to know her, you'd be able to write a few things specifically for her, it'll be all touchy-feely and sentimental." Again, Puck just rolled his eyes.
"Don't care," he spoke with a casual air into the phone. Leon continued as though he hadn't heard him.
"I know you prefer working with the indie artists but this Rachel Berry is gonna be the next star. Everyone loves her." Puck snorted. Everyone doesn't know a damn thing about music. Hell, if it hadn't been for twelve-year-old girls with too much time spent on YouTube, half the so-called artists would still be the no-talent hacks they always were, just with less money. "If you two collaborate, you'll be beating down offers with a stick. You think people are begging to work with you now? You won't be able to see straight with all the royalties coming your way."
There it was. Money. It always came back to money. Now Puck liked money just fine. But after moving to California from Texas for college and learning pretty fast that he could get paid for doing what he loved, it became clear what really drove the industry. Dollar signs were a language all their own. He didn't care so much about becoming famous or rich. As long as he could write the music that made people think, made people listen, made them feel, he was happy to get by. Granted, he was getting by exceptionally well, but that just meant he was good at what he did. Puck was proud of himself and the life he'd built. Money hadn't been his motivator and it never would be.
But since Leon, and the rest of them, spoke with dollar signs, he could too. And he knew how to use that language to get people off of his back.
"Whatever they're offering, tell them to double it and I'll think about it. And I want a bigger percentage of any royalties from whatever gets used." He didn't give two shits about any of it but demanding more money was always a surefire way to make people think twice before bothering you. Leon chuckled.
"Already done man. I knew you were gonna have this type of reaction so I told the execs I wasn't even gonna bother calling you until I saw some more numbers. They didn't even flinch. Must want you really bad Puck." Well…shit. If Leon thought the number was big, it was fucking huge. "Oh I almost forgot. Artie Abrams is gonna be producing the album. You two are friends right?" Now Leon was just playing dumb to mess with him. Artie was probably one of Puck's best friends and they'd worked with each other on plenty of projects.
Puck thought for a second. If Artie was there, at least he'd have someone to make it all bearable. He sighed. Seemed like the 'next big star' was getting his help, whether he wanted to give it or not.
"Fine," Puck muttered, "have the paperwork drawn up and send it to Quinn so she can look it over. She'll bring it to me once she's convinced I'm not getting screwed over in the deal." Leon made a scandalized noise.
"What? You don't trust me or something Puck?" If he was being completely honest, that answer was a big fat NO. But Puck just laughed.
"Sure I do but Quinn would kick my ass if I signed anything without her going over it first. When you have an ice queen for a lawyer, you do what she says. You know how it is." Quinn Fabray was probably the best lawyer in the city so if she wanted to be a little bit of a bitch in business, she was totally free to do so.
"Okay then, I'll let the label know you're in and we're good to go. I can feel good things on the horizon Puck. Very good things." Again, Puck rolled his eyes. Leon was speaking in dollar signs again.
"Great, bye Leon."
It took a few seconds for Puck to realize what he'd just agreed to.
Damn it.
He let his head drop into his hands, his fingers rubbed his eyes, and a sigh left his mouth. For a moment after raising his head, he just stared at his laptop. His fingers began to move on the mouse pad and before he knew it, a browser page was open and he was typing 'Rachel Berry' in the search bar. Might as well do a little research on the chick if he was going to be working with her for the foreseeable future.
Well at least she was hot. The first picture that popped up was of her performing at the Tony Awards in this long flowing white dress. Puck hated to admit it but she kind of owned the stage. Quickly, he scrolled over a few articles and bio pages. So she had three Tony Awards and critics called her the biggest thing since Streisand. There was still no guarantee she would blow up as a recording artist.
The Broadway background didn't really get Puck excited. In addition to the general 'diva' status usually afforded to actresses from the stage, he couldn't ignore the smattering of reviews and articles that labeled the woman as a prima donna.
If Rachel Berry was a bitch, he really didn't know how he was supposed to write for her or work with her in any capacity.
But, she was hot.
"Puck, are you coming back to bed?" Puck looked towards the doorway with a start at the sound of his name. The woman from his bed whose name he was no closer to remembering stood just outside the office. Her hair fell over her shoulders and covered her breasts. The only item of clothing she had on was a pair of cotton underwear.
No reason he couldn't indulge in a little morning sex before sending whatsherface/Tramp-Stamp on her merry way with a smile on her lips.
"Yeah, sure babe. I'll be right there. Let me finish a little work here first." The woman just smiled and nodded her head before turning to go back to his bedroom. Puck turned his attention back to his computer screen. Rachel Berry smiled back at him from the photo he'd pulled up. He couldn't place it but something about her told him this would be an interesting experience if nothing else. Then he realized he had a pair of willing open thighs waiting in his bed and he was staring at a picture on a screen. Wanting to slap himself, Puck closed his laptop and made his way back to his room.
Turns out that when she's the one doing all the screaming, whether or not you know her name isn't such a big deal.
Puck pulled the headphones down so they hung around his neck. "I think that time was cleaner. Let's run it back though. Gotta make sure." When Artie started to play the track again, Puck could hear a note slip right at the beginning and shook his head. "Trash it dude, let me do it again." Artie wheeled over to another computer at the opposite end of the mixing board and started clicking away. He knew Artie had heard the slip too, otherwise he would've tried to convince him they could cut around it and still use what they'd already recorded of the song. Working with Artie was always better than working with other producers. So far, Artie was the only part about this new project he was looking forward to.
Just as Puck was about to put his headphones back on, the door to the studio opened.
"How'd you find me," he asked the blonde woman. Quinn Fabray raised an eyebrow at him and sat her briefcase down on the couch. As she leaned over to pull some papers out, Puck noticed Artie checking her out.
"Your phone was off. The only time you turn your phone off is when you're in the studio. I've got some contracts you forgot to sign." Puck put the guitar back on its stand and took the papers from her hands. As he signed his name five more times, Quinn looked around the studio, taking in the sound booth and mixing board, all the instruments, Artie. "Artie, it's been a while. How have you been?" Puck looked up in time to see his friend's cheeks darken.
"Uh, um, I uh, I'm good." Artie never stuttered so the effect Quinn seemed to have on him was kind of funny. Quinn didn't seem to notice.
"So when is the Broadway star going to be here? I saw one of her shows when I went to New York on vacation last year. I'd love to meet her. She's incredible." Puck rolled his eyes. He had a feeling he'd be doing that a lot in the next few months.
"Her sessions start in a couple weeks so we're just laying some base tracks down for a few of the songs she's gonna be doing." He picked the guitar back up and adjusted it in his lap. He really wanted to get the guitar part solid so he could get behind the keyboard. The layering needed to be perfect.
"Well," Quinn hummed, "I see you boys are busy so I'll get out of your way. Maybe I'll swing by in a few weeks to see if Rachel Berry has a lawyer yet. Maybe I could give her my card." Puck cleared his throat loudly.
"Bye Quinn," he groaned. She might be one of the best lawyers he could ever ask for but if she stayed any longer, Artie's eyes would pop out of his head any time she moved. As soon as Quinn closed the door on her way out, Puck shot a pointed look at Artie. Artie just shrugged his shoulders.
"What? I didn't tell you to get a hot lawyer." Puck shook his head. While he didn't deny that Quinn was hot, she just didn't do it for him. It was a good thing though. It's hard to work with people and be professional if you're constantly trying to get into each other's pants. He was a little worried Artie was about to ask what her 'situation' was but instead, the man turned his chair back towards the computer. Artie chuckled as the track ran backwards. "So are you the least bit excited about working with a Broadway star?" Quinn's words echoed in Artie's voice and Puck shook his head.
"As long as she's not a raging, controlling bitch, maybe I won't kill her."
That was a big maybe.
Like it or don't like it, feel free to tell me! Next chapter, Puck and Rachel meet! Love you guys!
