A/N: Thank you for reading my story and the reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.


Chapter 2 – August 2013

Finn Hudson loved his job. He knew that there were not so many who chose to be a public school teacher because its salary was low. He however couldn't help but feeling so lucky that he got a job with this elementary school in Greenwich Village. The school where he officially was working as a music teacher (it had been two years now) was the same school as he had participated in Student Teaching at. When he met the principal Shannon Beiste for the first time, he thought… correction, he knew that this school was his destiny. Aside from providing a general music curriculum, he was volunteering to help the after school rock band program on Wednesdays and YMCA sport program (flag football) on Mondays. Some people outside of his family irresponsibly said that he should have or could have taken over his family business instead of low salary job. Screw that. His passion for music and football, his love for kids, plus, long long summer holidays – teacher's perks! What more could he ask for (don't remind him that he hadn't met the one yet)?

In the middle of August, Finn returned to his tiny studio in West Village (where he moved to when he was sophomore in NYU and his drum set had a strong presence) after executed Mississippi River two-week road trip with his friends. During the trip, they decided that no electronic devices allowed (okay, cell phone did allow to carry just in case but no allowed to be attached). So he booted up his computer while waiting for a dinner which his step brother was bringing with him. Most of them were crap like advertising mails. A few from the NYC department education, PDFs of the next academic calendar and teacher's conference schedule attached. And an email from… Brody Weston?

Finn widened his eyes, surprised. Brody too went to NYU (Finn in NYU Steinhardt, Brody in Tisch School of the Arts). Had it been, what, five or six years since they last exchanged words in freshman, sophomore or something between? But it didn't mean that they were friends at that time. Brody had been just his roommate until Finn moved out of the dorm. He started reading the email from Brody, already knowing as to why Brody thought to get a hold of him.

"I knew it!" Finn spat out in disgust, pointing his forefinger to the screen as if Brody was there in front of him. "I knew it was coming!"

"Knew what was coming?"

Finn was too preoccupied with recalling what happened to him in sophomore year, he didn't notice delicious smell had invaded in his apartment. He snapped out and turned his head to the direction where his step brother was standing. He glanced at his face soon before his eyes rocked on the takeout containers in his hands. Finn's stomach growled.

"Chinese?" Finn asked with twinkling eyes, almost drooling from his mouth as he stood up and made his way over to Kurt.

"Yes they are. And you knew what was coming?" Kurt demanded as he set the table neatly.

"Brody Weston." Finn murmured as he grabbed his chopsticks to already ready to eat his dinner. "Demanding payback for a favor he did me out sophomore year in college."

Kurt arched his eyebrows in amusement. "What did you do?"

"I did nothing! Why do you think, like, I did something wrong?" Finn defended, his mouth full with his food.

"Ew." Kurt wrinkled his nose with distaste. "Don't speak with your mouth full, Finn." He admonished. "You said he did you a favor."

Finn suddenly felt having the jitters. He didn't tell anybody what happened in his sophomore year which was one of the reasons he decided to move out of the dorm. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy college dorm parties. He actually did. He had never been in a serious relationship since his last girlfriend from high school cheated on him with one of his best friends who knocked her up. He got into the no-dating-but-enjoying-physical- gratification life style because of his ex-girlfriend's and his best friend's betrayal. It was difficult for him to trust women again. Or you could say that it was more difficult to get out of that kind of life style since most of college girls who flirted with him didn't mind his having a one night stand with them, or worse, some of them were just gold diggers.

Anyway.

One night some juniors threw a party at his dorm, the people who came to the dorm got too much excited and a small fire broke out somehow and somewhere in the dorm. A fire alarm screeched loud and soon the cops and the firefighters rushed to the dorm. The cops took the opportunity and began to search every room in the doom. When two of them came into his dorm room, complete drunk Finn sat on his bed grinning like an idiot at a girl who was about to write her number on his forehead. The cops found out some amount of grass pouched in a small plastic bag under Finn's bed and were full of arresting him despite he claimed it was not his. When he almost gave up to revolt against authority, Brody, who somehow felt sorry for Finn, cut in ensuring the grass was not Finn's and he saw some dude brought it in their room. The cops reluctantly left their room only with the plastic bag, however, they bothered him at every opportunity around the campus since then. He was so sick of false charges and decided to move out of the doom, promising himself to stay away from dorm parties.

"I swear to God, it was not mine at all!" Finn whined.

"He helped you out of trouble." Kurt pointed out not knowing the true story. Little did Finn and Kurt know, Brody had kicked the plastic bag into underneath Finn's bed just before the cops came into their dorm room.

"Well, yeah." Finn sighed in defeated. "But it was about six years ago. Besides, how many times do you think I got kicked out of my room in order for him to bang chicks? More than enough I did him." He mocked as he walked over to the kitchen to throw out his empty container into the garbage can.

"Please don't implant the image of your sex life into my head, thank you very much." Kurt held up his hand in the air. "What exactly does he want you to do?"

"To pretend to be Brody Weston." Finn muttered frustrated.

Kurt frowned. "What do you mean? Pretending to be him?"

Finn took another beer out of the fridge for himself and grabbed a glass and a bottle of red wine from the cabinet for Kurt. "He commanded me to take care of his aunt Hilda's dog and cats for two weeks or so instead of him because some psycho conked her on the head and fled, not my words but his."

Kurt grabbed the bottle and poured into the glass. "Why do you have to impersonate him just to take care of his aunt's pets? Why can't he do that for himself to begin with?"

Finn blew out a breath shaking his head. "He made an excuse that he was in Hawaii and busy with banging a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model or something."

"How tender hearted." Kurt said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Tell me about it." Finn snorted. "His aunt's in a coma, Kurt, comatose from a brutal assault. I can't believe him. He doesn't even care enough to cut short his vacation." He continued. "And his aunt neighbor is the one who is now taking care of her pets and has her apartment key."

"You should've been under the false accusation." Kurt commiserated.

"Yeah." Finn dropped his shoulders.

"I don't know why but I have such a bad feeling about it." Kurt warned.

"But I guess it could be worse, you know, a lot worse." Finn shrugged. "I mean, walking an old lady's dog, how bad can that be?"

"Well, good luck." Kurt stood up and walked over to the kitchen to wash dishes. "Oh, Quinn says to tell you she's got the perfect girl for you. Beth's dressage instructor, twenty tree, size 4, blonde, blue-eyed."

Finn frowned. "Not interested. Besides, I can't stand dressage. There's something unnatural about making a hose dance." He collected the empty bottles on the table and put them on the kitchen counter.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "The horses don't dance in dressage, my moron of a brother."


To: Finn Hudson

From: Brody Weston

Subject: Operation Rusty

Alright. I let the neighbor know to expect you tonight for the key pickup. She's got my aunt's spare. I don't understand why Aunt Hilda never gave me a key but her. That fire in her last apartment was not my fault!

Anyway, listen, you're supposed to be me, which means that you have to try to dress with a little… STYLE.

I know your family's got gobs of money but you're downplaying the trillions you're worth. I can understand this whole thing you're doing, getting a real job instead of the cushy family one your step father offered.

If you want to pretend like you're only making thirty or forty grand a year, I'm totally fine with it. But as long as you're being me, could you PLEASE not dress like a tacky college student? I'm begging you: No Journey T-shirts. And those worn sneakers you always wear? Would you buy a pair of tassel? And for the love of God, invest in some sumptuous leather jacket. I know you have the precious millions in that trust fund your grandfather left you.

That's all I ask. Just try to look good when you're imitating me. I have a reputation to uphold.

Brody

P.S.: The neighbor left a number, but I lost it. Her email's (I don't know it's her pc or phone) rachelberryXXXXXXXXXXX

Finn rolled his eyes as he read another email from Brody. He had some leather jackets, thank you very much. And how was he supposed to email her? She was going to know I was not Brody when she read his address. He sighed, reluctantly starting applying for a psuedo email account.


It's been about a week and a half since Rachel first sent an email to Brody. He replied to her the next day saying he had to be in somewhere in Africa photographing little starving kids for the Save the Children fund and maybe he could come home to take care of his aunt's pets in a week after or so.

While she waited for him another reply as to exactly when he could return to NY (she recieved the email last night), she got other information of him (like who he was like). He was always on the road. Last month in Bali, last week in Cabo… but this week he was in Africa for the Save the Children fund! He however seemed to be taking the role of playboy artiste to brand new heights, according to Santana.

"As far as I know, Brody would never go to Africa." Santana cut in, frowning. "You must be confusing him with someone else."

"No, I'm not confusing." Rachel huffed, picking up her bag from the floor. "He said so. If you like, I can forward his email."

"I don't mean to sound cold, but whether starving children or not, the man has to take some responsibility." Tina stuffed her towel into her bag after finished their rehearsal. "I mean, if your only living relative is in a coma, you come home, starving kids or no." She shook her head. "When's he getting here anyway?"

As if on cue, Rachel's phone buzzed in her bag. She took it out of the bag and read an incoming text. "Oh, it's him! He said he's just arrived at the airport and could come over to my apartment tonight at nine or so." She lightened up before glancing at her watch. It was 20:03. "I have to go." She grabbed her bag, fully ready for going home as soon as possible.

"Rachel, are you going to be able to make the pool party this weekend with me?" Tina called out to Rachel's back. "Mike's threatening to break off the engagement if I don't go!"

"Bye, guys." Rachel cried over her shoulder before disappearing in her green room.


Finn pulled out of his cell phone, thinking it would be a text from the neighbor of the poor old woman.

Thank you for texting me as soon as you landed. I hope it was a safe flight. I've just finished my rehearsal and will be home at least in an hour. So I would appreciate it if you could come over to my apartment at 21:30. Thank you again. – Rachel*

Finn smiled. Rachel. It was a pretty name. And she seemed nice although Brody complained she was kind of annoying. He was about to text her back telling he would be there at the time she suggested.

Wait.

Her rehearsal?

What kind of rehearsal? Was she some musician or actress? Kurt and Quinn were working in the fashion industry and Kurt had worked for some Broadway production a few times before. What if she knew Kurt or Quinn? It meant she might know him! Why didn't Brody say anything about his aunt's neighbor's job!? If she did, the cover would be totally blown!

"Whoa. The fuck that tsk?" Puck raised his eyebrow, looking at his best friend. "Some chick's bugging you?"

"No. If some girl bugs me, I won't tut-tut. I would get some lecture from my mom, or worse, Kurt." Finn sipped his beer on the couch in Puck's household.

"Then what?" Puck sifted his eyes from Finn to TV, which a Mets' game was on. "About what you've told a few minutes before? The douche?"

"Kinda." Finn rubbed his face with a hand, annoyed with Brody. "He failed to inform me of the neighbor's job."

"What does she do?" Puck asked.

"I don't know. She texted me that she had just finished her rehearsal." Finn answered, fidgeting.

"Oh, I get it. You're daunted what if she finds you're not Brody." Puck smirked. "So what? Who the hell cares if you're him or not anyway?" He looked up and down at Finn. "You're not wearing exactly what the douche demanded and now you've got cold feet?"

"I gotta go." Finn stood up from the couch, ignoring his best friend's statement.

"Hey, Q wants to know if you're still coming for dinner on Sunday like we planned." Puck stopped Finn from leaving.

"I don't know, man." Finn put his shoes on. "I heard from Kurt that Quinn wanted to set me up on a blind date or something, but I'm not interested." He made his way over the front door.

"Then that's fine with me. I would bang some random hot chicks." Puck nodded to himself.

"I heard that!" Quinn yelled at her husband from the kitchen.

"I love you too, baby!" Puck yelled back.

Finn shook his head, putting his hand on the door knob. "Bye guys." With that he let himself out of the apartment, determined to pretend to be Brody (with his – Finn's - usual attire).


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