Thanks for the patience guys. I'm super busy being a full time college student with extracurricular activities, two plays, and all that jazz. I'm actually suprised I got done with this chapter. lol. I did a breakdown of all the chapters i'm making and this fic is gonna be a long one..So, I hope your here for the ride. Just a refresher, this is after the episode "Funk" and will be slightly different than the show's version due to it being based off my previous fic, "Party like a Rockstar, Kick a little.." and because I didn't want to repeat a bunch of chapters that would be quoting the "Journey" episode. Obviously, if I did that, Finn and Rachel would be a couple..Why have that when you can have this? Anyway..There are a few curse words, that's pretty much everything that would offend anyone. Please read and review. I work hard on my fics (suprising I know lol) and would really appreciate the support. Thank you!

Puck was mindlessly driving around in his rusty pickup truck that morning. Where he was going, he wasn't sure. Frankly, he didn't care. Maybe he was trying to leave his legacy. The legacy of being a dead beat parent with no future. Everytime he tried to run from his father's mistakes, they caught up with him. He was like a bad stench that stuck to his skin.

He glanced around the road he was driving on. The corner of Jackson and Humboldt. He seemed to always guide himself to this part of town when he needed a sanctuary. This was the one place he could always be welcome.

As he drove down Jackson for a little less than a minute, he arrived. Puck parked in the gravely space next to the sign " Greenway Park".

All he heard was the chirping of birds and children playing on the swings in the distance. About 30 yards away, he saw it. His haven. The large twisted oak. The leaves were slightly yellowed from the harsh summer sun but it still maintained it's wisdom and majesty. Puck ascended up the hill and patted the trunk with a smile. Without a second thought, he grabbed a small stone and briskly shot it atop of the water's surface. It only skipped once before plunking below.

"Tch!" He hissed at himself in dissaproval. Bending over to grab another stone, he stopped. A feeling came over him. Was someone watching him? He turned his body to search for a sign of spectators.

Nothing.

Just then, a vibration went off in his pocket. Someone had called and left a voicemail asking him to clean out his pool.

Might as well do something today.. he thought.

He had already knew the street the house was on so there wouldn't be a problem navigating the area. His attire, however, arose a problem. Subconsiously, he slid on his black flip flops that were beside the front door but he was still shirtless. A woman might have not minded his outfit, but no man was going to see the Puckster's nipples. For some reason, imagining guys checking out his chest made him uncomfortable. He looked behind his driver's seat. Bingo. A dingy white tshirt was balled up on the floor of the backseat. It wasn't clean. It smelled funny. But it would do for now. He unrolled the top over his body and jumped back into his car.

He captured one more glance down by the lake before he drove off.

The guy whose pool he cleaned was very gracious. Also, he was very rich. He hired Puck on short notice for a party later that night. One, Puck believed, would be a mingling of the social elite. After doing his usual buisness whilst admiring the heated indoor pool and matching hot tub with jets, the man gave him three crisp hundred dollar bills. Trying his hardest not to let his eyes bug out of his head, he thanked the man and left.

Holy shit fuck! Three hundred dollars!

Sliding the three papers into his wallet, Puck took once last bewildered glance at them before folding it back into his pocket.

Oh my god. Wait until Finn hears this.

..Finn..

Puck wasn't sure at this point how his former best friend felt about him. It was like, him not being in his life was the same as his arm being cut off. You can still feel the ghost-like air of what was, but as soon as you reach for it, you then realize it's really gone.

"Damn it!" He thrusted a palm into his steering wheel. Why must everything fall apart now? His best friend, was now former. The one girl he thought he actually might have feelings for was doing all she could to eradicate him. His soon-to-be born daughter would never know him. His mohawk was gone. Even his late night booty call Santana Lopez was ignoring his calls. He probably just made his mom cry. That would suck. He hated to see her cry. Honestly, he hated to see any woman cry. Especially when a douche bag boyfriend is involved.

He gripped his hands on the wheel until his knuckles became white. The memory came back to him. Long brown hair curtained her sobbing face as she scuttled her feet onto the sidewalk pavement. Oblivious to his calls from the school parking lot.

"Hey, Rachel!"

Rachel?

"Well fuck me.." He hissed. He remembered it as if it was yesterday..

Because it was yesterday.

She thanked Puck and Finn for being so protective after Jesse egged her.

Jesse

How he hated him.

He always did, though. He hated his stupid face. His stupid clothes. His stupid hair. His arrogance. That way he would look at Rachel like some slimy perv. That look of longing. Puck shuddered in disgust. He wanted it, and he got it. Everyone had heard the stories about Rachel losing her virginity to the guy. Why him? Him of all people?

I don't even know why I'm even bothered by it.. Puck stopped himself, brushing off any uneeded emotions. Besides, there were no emotions involved when it came to Rachel Berry. I mean, she's loud, bossy, whiny, and she wouldn't even get naked for him the first day. Seriously, what the point? Puckzilla is not putting his libido on hold for a wierdo who's obsessed with gold stars and sequined leg warmers.

Knowing his had to focus his attention elsewhere, he dialed a number into his cellphone, trying with all his might not to keep his eyes off the road for too long.

" Hey. Mercedes? It's Puck...Yeah listen, are you doing anything right now?" The muffled sound of the closeted diva could be heard inside the truck.

" Well, when you're done with that, could you come down to the pizza parlor on Main? We need to talk."