hold on, make it last Chapter 4: been mine, a glee fanfic

hi hi guys here's another update and sadly the last! ! ! ! it was a true pleasure writing this story and hearing your feedback on it so i'd like to personally thank every reader of this crazy ass piece of work. thanks so much. hope you all enjoy this as much as i liked writing it.

p.s. it didn't take me seven months im starting to become an adult

"Finn, can we talk?" Rachel asks him quietly as she pauses Barbra Streisand in the middle of her performance of funny girl. She looks sad as she takes her head off his shoulder and sits up, her thumb running over his hand.

He nods, going over the notes Puck gave him along with a copy of Steve's book. He sounds awfully rehearsed as he says, "As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you, too."

"You go first," she nods, biting down on her lip. She really likes him, is almost obsessed with him and being with him but she's done with not being a first priority. She is worth being a first priority and it took her a long time to realize that but she's not going to back out of it now. Not even if Finn is nearly perfect and it'll take her five years, at least, to get past this heartbreak.

He takes a deep breath, letting his mouth take the course, not really thinking about it. "I know, that you think you don't come first, because I love my mom, and that's because it's always been just me and my mom. And then I got a step-brother and a step-father and I had to share her, and I guess that kind of made me really weird when it comes to her? Because I don't want to lose her."

"But I need you to know…" Rachel bites on the inside of her lip and he can't help but lean forward and peck her lips, just for reassurance. "That I don't want to lose you either, and you're my number one, Rachel, even if that means I won't get to see my mom as much any more."

He expects some kind of skeptical remark but instead she kisses him, her arms flying around his neck as she presses her body against his. She pulls away after a moment, sighing a little, "Thank you."

He smiles, brushing her bangs away from her eyes before he pauses, "Wait, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, uhm," she stutters, completely thrown off by the entire thing. This was all she wanted and she couldn't help but feel her chest flutter because this was the first time since, ever, that she felt this wanted. "I wondered if you liked my, uhm, feet? Do you think they do this weird pointy-thing when I walk?"

He laughs loudly, wrapping his arms tighter around her before telling her, "I think it's adorable, they're adorable."

"Hey.." He nudges Brittany with his hand as he sits down on the bed, "Britt…? Babe…?"

She sits up, turning on the bedside lamp as she rubs her eyes. "Sam? Where have you been?"

"Well, I was at work late and then I was thinking about what you said, about you know, that job? So I set up a resumé and I mailed over to that company you talked about.. I want to be better, Britt, for you," he says quietly, because he really does mean it, he just doesn't get why a job at national geographic isn't good enough. "I love you and when we get children I want them to have expensive iPhones and all the guitars they want. I don't want them to grow up poor like I did."

She smiles brightly, almost as bright as when she's dancing, and leans forward to hug him. She places a kiss on his cheek before telling him softly, "You know I don't care about that, Sam. You turned out pretty great. I just want you, to be the best you can be. Because you deserve that."

He nods against her skin, feeling guilty for lying to her already before leaning forward and pecking her nose. He just can't believe she believes in him that much. "I just really.. Love you." More than himself.

"And I love you," she says happily, poking his chest before pressing her lips against his. "And I think that calls for some sweet babymaking. Without the baby being made part." She winks and he laughs as she connects their lips again, falling back on the bed and pulling him with her.

"I need your help," Puck states as he puts his guitar down on Jake's kitchen island.

"With what? You decided you want to become a model and want my tips on how not to look like a complete hobo?" Jake snorts as he puts his hands in his pyjama pants, leaning back against the counter.

"Gee, man, college changed you," Puck rolls his eyes as he nods towards his brother. "Why are you always shirtless?"

"Jealous?" Jake smirks and Puck sends him the finger. "FYI, the ladies love my six pack but I'm not here to compare abs. I need your help with some songs."

"Why? Starting a YouTube channel?"

Puck sighs, unsure if he should even be saying this, "No, I guess I wanted to become all those things before because I was afraid that this thing, songwriting and singing, wouldn't work out, and what would I have left to live for? Nothing."

"That's kind of depressing, dude," Jake frowns, as he steps closer to look at Puck's notebook and browses through it carelessly. "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't want to be a cause of you killing yourself because you have nothing left to live for. Imagine the daggers your mom will send me at your funeral."

"Yes, because since I know Quinn, I've seen other things to live for, you know. Having a dog, or, seeing my baby brother get married to a nice girl, for example, because that ultimately requires me to live for another four hundred years because you're too much of an asshole."

"Good, because for a second there, I thought you were going to say that Quinn was your new light in the darkness and I just ate a really expensive breakfast that I don't want to throw up any time soon."

Puck smirks in response, "I'd never."

"No!" Rachel points her finger at Finn warningly as she narrows her eyes, "I swear to God, Finn Hudson, if you point that sprayer at me, I will break-up with you!" Despite her stern glare a laugh slips from her lips as he raises his eyebrows before looking over at Joe.

"What do you think, buddy? Would it be worth it?" Joe gets a cheeky glint in his eyes as he puts down a dirty plate, and shrugs. "Probably."

"Sorry, Rach," he laughs as he aims the sprayer at her, the towel in her hand proving to offer no protection from the water at all as she shrieks. Joseph laughs loudly as Finn covers his eyes, now aiming for Rachel's boobs. She slaps the sprayer out of his hands, gasping before laughing.

"I hate you both," she says with a huge smile as she wipes her hair from her face. "Especially you," she covers her chest with her arms as she nods over at her boyfriend. "You're evil."

"That was awesome." Joe holds out his fist and Finn bumps his against it in victory. Rachel pouts in defeat.

He puts his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his chest. "Ah, babe, it was just joke. It's not like it's the first time you've been wet." He sends Joseph an incredulous look who agrees wholeheartedly before turning back to dry of a now clean plate.

Rachel's eyes widen in response as he looks down at her, only now realizing his exact words. He blushes furiously as she laughs loudly. He bites his lip to keep him from making any more dumb comments. She leans up to kiss him quickly before her phone rings, the caller ID showing it's Quinn.

"I'm just going to take this one for one second, you two don't do anything stupid because I will take away the Xbox," she sends them a serious look before walking into the hallway.

"Hi Qui—"

"So, he calls me up to ask me if I can PICK him up on the SIDE of a deserted road because his CAR broke down! Can you believe this? I got out of Lima for a reason, Rachel. And now I like a guy who's a loser," Quinn spits out in one breath and Rachel sighs loudly.

"I get that you're worried about this whole he doesn't have a job thing, but you like him, you do. And you need to give him a chance. The same way you wouldn't want him to judge you because of Lucy, you shouldn't judge him based on a job," Rachel rants before adding, "Give him a chance, Quinn. You're welcome."

"Ugh, Rach, you know it doesn't just work like that—Rach?" Quinn pushes her lock button aggravatedly, hearing nothing but the sound of her own heavy breathing on the other side of the line. She taps her fingers on her steering wheel, going over the options in her head. Either, she leaves him on the side of the road to die and their relationship is over or she gets over herself and picks him up and sees how it goes from there.

"Damnit," she cusses, turning the car around and not too much later, finding him leaning against his car.

"Thanks for picking me up," he says a little awkwardly, obviously feeling the tension as he fastens his seat belt.

"Sure," she says, clearing her throat like she hadn't planned on speaking.

"I would've called Finn, but he told me not to bother him when he's with Rachel and Jake met this girl—" he tries to explain, and he feels so stupid around he it's dumb. Just because she has a college degree doesn't mean she's better than him. Besides, she lied too. Desk work, my ass.

"I get it," she snaps and he nods, tapping his fingers on the door nervously. He turns up the radio and she turns it down and it's a bunch of hella awkward.

"So, I was writing the other day with Jake," he starts, not sure where this is really going since they haven't talked about any of it and he's not sure she's pissed he lied or that he isn't an elite music producer.

"Songs? I thought you produced," she remarks cynically as she puts her hair behind one ear, and he clenches his jaw.

He sighs loudly, looking over at her, "I'm sorry, about all of that, okay, but you lied, too and I wrote a song and I kept thinking about you and that was really frustrating, but I thought you should know."

She pulls the car over on the side of the road and looks down at her hands in her lap. She knows it was kind of his way of saying he liked her but could she lead him on to believe she did the same when she wasn't sure she did? She thought she did, before, but maybe she was just really fucked up and liked guys with good jobs. "I'm sorry that I made you think you had to lie about your job to me. I don't mean to be such a bitch, but sometimes I am."

"Sometimes?" He teases and she breaks into a smile despite herself, looking over at him. She can't help but feel her heart warm. "A song, huh?"

"Yeah, it's called Always A Beauty, Sometimes A Bitch," he says seriously before his face breaks into a grin, snickering as she elbows him in the ribs.

"Ouch," he exclaims loudly as he rubs his side and she leans over to kiss him. "Let's not lie again, okay? We can be honest with each other."

He nods, his eyes still half closed before he connects their lips again.

"'Sup, Sam?" Jake asks while he puts his phone against his ear as he looks into his fridge.

"I read over your part in the book—" Sam starts but Jake interrupts him, leaning his head against the cool exterior of his kitchen.

"Not this again," Jake groans, "I thought I told you it wouldn't work anyway."

"It says that you have to call her your girlfriend, give her something solid. This thing is practically the bible, Jake, you need to listen to it."

"I'm Jewish," he reminds his friend before sighing, "Whatever, but if this doesn't work I'm dumping her. I didn't sign up for this shit."

"Your Coran, then, whatever," Sam says seriously (annoyed) before he breaks out into a laugh and Jake rolls his eyes. "What?"

"It's pretty funny actually, considering you normally play this game with girls."

"Shut the fuck up, Evans."

"Karma," the blonde sing into the phone before he hears the dial tone. Hoping Jake heard him chant in to the phone before he hung up, "Stability! Chicks dig it."

"I got us a ticket for—are you ready?" She smiles so big he thinks her face is going to combust any second now, and presses her lips against his for a second.

"I'm ready," he says amused as he watches her pull out two tickets and jumps up and down excitedly. "The carnival!" She lets out a small yelp, showing them to him as she grins.

He wants to laugh, the carnival? The last time he was there he was seven and he had to pull his drunk in-need-of-money dad home in the middle of the night, which was one of the only and last times he saw him.

But she looks so excited that he kind of feels warm on the inside, that she could still be this excited about anything it, gives him hope. No matter how dumb that sounds.

"I think it's great." He smiles, putting his hands on either side of her face, using one to get her hair behind her ear before leaning forward to kiss her. She pulls away after a few seconds and he inwardly groans. Like all he wants to do is kiss her and hold her and feel her but all she seems to want to do is push him away.

Surprisingly, carnivals are actually really fun. He thinks his mind just associated them with not-fun things because of his dad. But they go on a few rides and she makes him buy cotton candy and a corndog and they take silly pictures in a photobooth. It's totally cheesy, but he kind of really loves it.

"Jake?" His head snaps up as he turns around to find his old glee club teacher and guidance counselor.

"Mr. Schue!" Jake exclaims as he reaches out to hug the older man before turning to the redhead next to him, sporting a small bump, and hugging her, too. "Mrs. Schue!"

"Pregnant again, huh?" He asks her as he pulls away and she laughs warmly. "What can I say? Once I started I couldn't stop."

He doesn't want to get in on what she started exactly so he pulls Marley forward. Here goes nothing. "This is Marley. My girlfriend. Marley, this is my old glee club teacher, Mr. Schue and his wife, Mrs. Schue."

He looks over at her as she shakes their hands and she's practically glowing, her smile stretched from ear to ear. He feels kind of proud he can make her so happy by just saying she's his girlfriend.

They talk for a bit before Emma exclaims the baby's pushing on her bladder and she really needs to go and Jake promises to come visit his new new directions soon.

"Am I really?" She asks when they leave and he turns to her with a confused look. "Your girlfriend, I mean."

She looks so insecure and fragile, like anyone wanting her as a girlfriend would be totally insane and he wants to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her until she feels beautiful. He wants to tell her the truth, that really what he wants from her the most, is sex, but he isn't entirely sure that's still what he wants the most.

He runs his hand over her arm before he connects their hands, "Of course you are."

"So, Glee Club, huh?" She squeezes his hand as they walk to his car.

"Shut up, I only joined because my brother said it would 'make me into a man'."

"Do you always do what other people say you should do?" She teases him and he shakes his head at her.

"Yeah, I'm a total pushover," he huffs sarcastically as he opens up his car door for her while she laughs before getting in.

What he doesn't expect to happen when he gets into the car is for her to pound on him like he's water and she just walked a thousand miles through a desert. Her lips are on his, desperate and warm and good, one of her hands finding it's way under his shirt.

He kisses her back, of course, and he can't believe this all is happening because he said she was his girlfriend. He'll offer up half of his home to her if commitment gets him this much.

His hands are touching every piece of her he can, her hair, her back, her sides and even a little underboob as her hands roam his back and chest before landing on his thighs. He pulls her closer, their tongues clashing and he forgets to breathe for a few seconds.

Her eyes widen as his hands find their way under her skirt, suddenly remembering the fact she's wearing granny panties and he can't, absolutely can't, see her like that.

"Uhm," she says, panting heavily as she wipes her lips, before reaching out to wipe some lipgloss from his. "We should get home."

"Granny panties?" Marley can practically hear Kitty's smirk on the other side of the line.

"Granny panties," the brunette agrees, sighing.

"Told you it'd work."

"You actually eat this stuff? It kind of looks like it would make your breath stink or like, you poop yellow," Finn asks incredulously, shuddering as he loads a huge white piece of tofu into their shopping cart and Rachel raises her eyebrows, smiling a little amused. "Yes, and so far I haven't gotten any complaints about my breath."

He grins. "What about your—" "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Finn."

His phone rings when he's about to say something, the caller ID flashing 'work'. He puts his to his ear, trying to keep a neutral face as his mom talks, he lets out a few indifferent yes' and no's before hanging up.

"That's work, I have to go," he sighs, leaning down to kiss her. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she says, jokingly adding, "If it was Broadway and I'd probably leave, too, even if it was our wedding."

"At our wedding?" He gives her an offended look, "You'd leave our own wedding, Ms. Berry?"

"When the stage calls, it's time to go," she smiles brightly and he chuckles before leaning down to kiss her again. He bites his lip to keep from smiling, "Sure you don't need any more kid shampoo from the top shelf or something?"

"Ha-Ha, making fun of people with disabilities isn't funny, Finn."

"You're short, not disabled!"

"We prefer the term vertically challenged."

Okay, so it's totally awesome when Brittany parades around in tiny outfits but he also knows she does it, becomes she wants something. And he falls for it every. damn. time.

They're in between kisses when she asks him about the job he supposedly applied for. "You handed in your resumé, right?"

"Yeah," he breathes, kissing her again when she breaks away. "Really? Because I talked to Harmony's brother and he said He would personally recommend you but they didn't have a CV. At first I thought that meant they were free of sexually transmittable diseases but then I talked to Santana and she explained me what it really meant."

"Maybe the e-mail didn't work or something," Sam lies with a straight face as he tries to lean again but she pushes him back, tears forming in her eyes.

"Don't lie to me, Sam, you know when you lie that an angel loses it's wings and I just—it hurts me so badly," her voice shakes, her eyes are red and he feel his hearts breaking. It's then he realizes the one flaw in his perfect plan—he could pretend all he want, but soon enough she'd figure it out anyways and she would end up hurt. Like she was now.

"I thought you would never lie to me."

"Britt.." He tries, reaching out to grab her hand but she shakes her head, sniffing as her voice breaks, "I just, want to be alone, Sam."

He nods, leaving the room, his head already spinning from trying to think about how he could fix this.

Q: What are you up to? x

NOAH: i WAS recording on my shitty laptop but now im distracted by the thought of ur face

Q: My face, really? x

NOAH: ok that was a lie, ur brain ;)

She smiles to herself as she presses her phone to her chest just as her car gets pulled up by the valet boy. Before she can get in, a ferrari pulls up and the driver hands his key to the same valet boy. It's then she sees it's Biff, her old college boyfriend.

"Quinn, is that you?" He exclaims, his eyes wide as he grins. She nods, "Biff, it's been too long," as he leans in to hug her.

"True, and you look even more stunning than the last time I saw you," he comments, and she knows what he's implying. He's great, he had been great back then—came from a rich family, got good grades and was sure to be the next big lawyer. And he was, she had heard his name around. On TV. But they broke up because he had cheated on about three times and no matter how much she liked pearl necklaces and diamond rings, they didn't make up for his deceit.

But she was a different person now, surely he was, too.

He licks his bottom lip, looking at her up and down before settling on her eyes, "You want to get some lunch sometime? Catch up?"

She bites her lip, can practically feel her phone burning in her hand before she speaks, "Sure."

"You're coming to our annual family brunch, right?" Rachel asks as she pins her hair up her head and looks at him in the mirror. It was date night and they're were going out to see a movie as Quinn watched Joseph.

"I promised my to go to church with her," he suddenly remembers, but it seems like the words die in his voice as he looks at her disappointed look on her face. He doesn't want to be a disappointment to her—he wants to be her rock, her home, someone she can fall back and share things with and he wants to be good for her. Surely he can come up with some excuse for his mother, and she can deal with it. Fuck yea.

"But I'm sure she'll understand, considering how important this is to you," he smiles from the bed as she beams back at him before getting up from her vanity and placing a kiss on his cheek, her hands on his cheeks as his land on her waist.

"Thank you, it means a lot to me that you want to be a part of my family's silly traditions."

"They're not silly if they're important to you," he says truthfully and she down to kiss him, desperate and longing and he feels happy.

"You guys are like those teenagers in the movies, I can't even walk around in my own home without seeing you two be gross in every corner," Joseph remarks from the door with a grimace and Rachel narrows her eyes at him.

"Go to bed, Joe."

"Oh, I love this," Marley snorts, a teasing tone to her voice as she takes a photo from his nightstand and looks at Jake's cute chubby cheeks at the mere age of seven. Her smile is big as she runs a finger over the photo. She wants to know these parts of him, the parts she doesn't know about, even the parts he doesn't tell other people, the parts he would like to hide. She wants to know it all.

He takes the photo from her and hides it behind his back, and she's pretty sure he's blushing, "That is so not sexy at all."

She lets out a laugh as she tries to get it back from him, "Come on, I'll show you mine." When her attempts to take it from him are obviously not working she puts on the puppy dog eyes and sadly pouts. "Please?"

"Fine," he sighs and almost rolls his eyes at his own predictability. He's totally one of those guys wrapped around his girlfriend's finger. Girlfriend though— that still sounds so good. Argh, point proven.

He takes the photograph from behind his back and hands it to her and she leans up to place a thankful kiss on the side of his mouth. He's about to kiss her again but his younger self has her totally undivided attention. It's his own fault for leaving that picture out in the first place.

"It was taken right after my first big dance competition," he says as she leans back against his chest and he leans over her shoulder to look at it, too. He's dressed in a black unitard and there's a small gold medal hanging around his neck. His smile is as bright as it is broad and he remembers it as one of the only times he was truly happy during his childhood. It was an escape, he knew that, but it sure as hell was better than watching his mom kill herself trying to make his life better.

"I watched some more of your videos, you know, they're on the website of your old high school," she states, holding the photo to her chest as she turns her head to look at him. "Even now, you light up when you talk about it."

"Have you been stalking me?" He points out (anything to avoid a touchy subject, really) with a teasing jab in her side and she turns around to face him.

"You don't have to dance, but.. Why don't you choreograph? Why are you giving up on something that obviously makes you so happy?" She asks and he takes a look at her sundress and she looks so beautiful and she's kind of perfect all around, you know?

"I'll never give up on you," he retorts after a moment and she catches his gaze, a smile forming on her lips despite herself. "You're sneaky, but good—really good."

She lets out a loud laugh as he picks her up and twirls her around before pulling her along to his bed. She gasps as she thinks of something, "Oh my God, Jake! Will you do the dirty dancing move with me?"

He lets out a genuine laugh as he leans in and kisses her before saying, "I love you," with the best part being he really means it too, even though he thinks it's the first time in his life he's actually said it. She looks sad for a moment before her pretty blue eyes light up and she says, "I love you back."

They kiss for a long time before she pulls away and bites down on her bottom lip, leaning her forehead against his. "I'm not that heavy, I promise," she whispers against his lips and he chuckles as he brushes her hair from her face.

Then she kisses him again and there are clothes spread over his room as he leads her to his bed. His breaths come fast behind each other as he looks at her, and all she can really think about is how dumb that rule really was and he asks her if she wants to and if she's okay and she feels so special she wants to cry. But she doesn't, because something tells her that isn't really attractive. She nods, and tells him she loves him again, and he repeats it and then she knows she's sure. She's so sure.

A warm fuzzy feeling settles in the depths of her heart as they finish and she doesn't know if she really falls asleep or just lays there awake listening to his heartbeat but before she knows it's morning and he's not there and she swore she wouldn't let this happen again and there are already tears forming in her eyes (she is so mad at herself, how did she let this happen again? for god's sake, it didn't even take him two months to get her to break all of her rules and get undressed) when she sees a note on the nightstand.

"Goodmorning, beautiful. Getting breakfast, I'll be back soon. — Jake."

She presses the note against her chest in relief because she wanted this to be real, she really needed this to be real.

She puts his dress shirt on and buttons it up before putting on her panties and smiles as she spots the picture from last night.

Looking around for some sort of clock—there's no alarm clock on his nightstand so she figures there must be a watch or a phone or something—she opens the drawer. All she finds is Steve Harvey's book and when she opens it all she finds is the 90-days-rule highlighted with commentary scribbled in the same handwriting as the note he left there.

She feels a familiar pang in her chest as she throws the book across the room and runs a hand through her hair. Silly Marley, she got played again.

She tears his clothes of her body and quickly throws on her dress from the night before. She feels dirty and used and just emotionally drained. The tears won't come until she hears him call out her name from the kitchen. Was this all just a joke to him?

"Why is there a Steve Harvey book in your drawer?" She sounds awfully calm as stops halfway into the living room.

His head snaps up and the guilty look on his face says more than enough. "Marley, wait—I can explain—"

"No! I hate you!" She yells as she angrily wipes away the tears from her cheeks. She shouldn't be crying. This was her own damn fault. "I thought that this," she motions her hand in between them, "that it was a real."

"It was—" He tries to protest because this is all escalating so fast and he doesn't even have a chance to defend himself and why the fuck did he leave that book lying around in the first place? "It is—Marley.."

She tries to calm herself down but her voice breaks as she listens to him trying to form more lies. All just lies. "I never want to see you again."

"Marley!" He pleads again, tries, but it's too late.

She's gone.

Rachel grins and her heart swells as she watches Finn yell at Joseph for him to 'get the sniper' as her son calls back for him 'cover me!' and she thinks it's cute how they get so wrapped up in a game and honestly it's all she ever wanted—for her two favorite boys to get along. She's just finished baking some banana bread and the house smells so nice, she thinks, and she's cutting it into small parts when Finn's cellphone rings.

"Babe, can you get it?" He yells from the living room and she shouts back a quick okay as she puts the phone to her ear as she starts moving the bread onto a clean plate. "Hello?"

"Hi, Rachel, this is Carole," she hears and she could swear the screen had flashed 'work 911' in big red letters. She takes the phone from her ear and takes a look at the screen and surely she's right.

"Rachel?" She hears distantly and distractedly, she puts the phone back to her ear. "Carole, sorry, I'm going to have to let Finn call you back."

She hears some vague protests before she touches the red button on his phone and she steadies herself by putting her hands down on the counter. Has he been lying all along?

Suddenly Finn whips his head around the corner and he can see the color drain from his face as he looks at her. "Rach, what's wrong?"

(He's so stupid! Why did he let her answer the phone?)

"When I divorced Jesse, Joseph's father, I had—uhh, just found out he not only treated me like crap, and made me feel like crap, but he cheated on me. That part didn't really hurt, though, I wasn't in love with him, not anymore.." She swallows hard, her eyes filling with tears as she looks at her boyfriend. Huh.

"Rachel," he tries to say but his throat feels dry and he feels like crying.

"It was the fact he could look at me everyday—this person that was supposed to care about me, that I cared about—that he could look at me, and lie straight to my face," she says calmly, her voice breaking on the last part of the sentence. "How could you do this to me?"

"Rachel, I can explain, I promise, it's not—" She slaps him, and it stings, but his heart, his heart right now feels like it's going to crumble inside his chest.

"Like you left when you were with me saying it was an emergency at work but really you were going to see your mom? Or you had to work late and had already eaten? Or you were going out with the guys?" She pleads, wanting him to deny it, wanting him to yell that she was crazy, paranoid. But she wasn't, was she? There was nothing to deny.

Tears roll down her cheeks and he wants to wipe them away, tell him he's sorry and that he doesn't know why he did it to begin with but he can't form any words, he can't move.

"I want you to leave."

"Mom!" Joseph yells from the living room, storming in to look at his mother. "You can't do that!"

"Watch me," she says sternly, throwing Finn one more look before he nods and grabs his coat.

"I'm sorry," he says, one more time before he leaves.

And she's right back where she started.

He's sitting in the lobby waiting for her and when she spots him she reminds herself this is for the best. He interrupted her meeting twice, for God's sake. They're not compatible. It's simple.

She sits down in the chair next to him, a chair she's met plenty of clients in yet this time it feels different.

(It's the right thing to do, she keeps repeating over and over in her head)

"Are you ready for lunch? I just finished a new song, maybe I could play a—" He smiles as he leans forward to put his hand on her knee and she takes it and puts it on the chair. He looks at his hand, then at her, his eyes confused as he gives her a questioning look.

"I'm going to have to end this."

"What?" He stammers, his eyebrows knitting together. What in the hell has gotten into her so suddenly?

"Our chances to make it aren't great and I can't take the risk. We've passed our due date. It's time to move on," she gives him a small smile and it doesn't reach her eyes but she's learned to do it quick, breaking contracts, like ripping of a bandaid and that includes no time to fake an eye twinkle.

"This is not a business deal, Quinn," his voice is angry, upset, sad even maybe and she pretends she doesn't care.

"I know, but it still has to end," she swallows hard, before taking his hand and opening it, pressing down the business card of the producer she contacted, "This is, though. Don't take it personal, Puck, it's just time to move on."

"It is personal to me," he throws the card back into her lap as he stands up, shaking his head lightly.

"Puck—don't be stupid. This is business, honestly, I promise you don't owe me any favors, just take the card," she urges, looking up at him but he shakes his head, throwing her a disgusted look before leaving her by herself.

She stares at his empty seat. It was the right thing. Truthfully.

(If only the pit in her stomach and the empty feeling in her chest would catch up with her brain and realize that)

Sam comes home and all his stuff is back and he (like the dipshit he is) smiles as he picks up his playstation, brushing the dust of it with his free hand.

"Awesome," he states as spots all his posters and falls back onto the couch. He puts his hand behind his head and checks out all of his other stuff.

It's then he notices the book on the coffee table. He carefully picks it up, opening it causing a memo to fall out. In all kinds of colored crayons the words 'i can't do this anymore, sam, i'm done playing games — brittany s. pierce (not to be affiliated with britney spears)' are written across it and he frowns. Was she being serious?

Going upstairs to check every other room he sees all of her stuff is gone and when he lays down on their bed with his favorite star wars sheets it doesn't even smell like her anymore.

Shit.

Realizing getting his stuff back meant losing Brittany, he suddenly doesn't care that much anymore. None of it really means anything if he can't share it with her.

"Britt didn't even want to see me when I visited Santana," Sam says, his forehead leaning on their usual table and a beer clenched in his hand. "I was caught red handed in a lie that I created and she couldn't even be anything but sad with me. It's tragic. Like Romeo and Juliet."

"I'm pretty sure that they both died at the end," Mike replies dryly, taking the beer from an already half-drunk Sam who's obviously drowning in self-pity.

"I did everything right, I was the guy with potential like in the book, and I meant it, and I still got dumped and I told her the truth and it still wasn't good enough. Like, what the hell man?" Puck is next to speak, downing his own beer in one gulp.

Blaine pats his hand sympathetically, "Ah, guys, I told you love sucked. Let's make a pact. Let's never love again."

"It's worse for me," Finn leans his head on his hand as he stares at the yellow substance in his glass. "I mean you should've seen the look on Rachel's face when she found out I'd been lying to her."

"She'll come around," Jake offers more out of comfort than anything, his voice sounds emotionless, hopeless.

"You didn't see her," Sam exclaims, picking up his head from the table, "She was full of…"

"Hate," Finn breathes, leaning his head back against the booth.

"Pain," Sam adds instead, shaking his head. "I am an asshole."

Blaine sighs loudly, nodding along, "Woman were born to hate and are fast to hold a grudge…" He sighs again, "Kurt never held a grudge. But he was a guy of course."

"Britt," Santana pleads as she holds out her arms for the blonde, who was crying again. This is why she liked vagina, girls weren't complete son of a bitches. Brittany hugs her as she sniffs against her shoulder. "I still love him."

"I know you do, and that's why you had to do this," Santana rubs her back as she imagines the things she could do to that no-good trouty mouthed bitch.

She hoped he was tearing himself apart for this.

And he was. He thought getting back his freedom would be the best thing that could ever happen to him. And now he was alone, in their—his room, and he felt like shit.

He keeps looking at this picture of the two them, taken during halloween a few years back and they're dressed as avatars and his heart hurts just thinking off what she did for him and what little things he couldn't even do for her. A different job sounds trivial now.

Since all his friends are at home, moping and probably listening to dumb Taylor Swift songs and gaining five pounds and having their period—he decided to try out his luck at a bar. Alcohol sounded more attractive than having to bust off his ass at the gym in the morning because he binge-ate fifteen chocolate bars.

"Hi," a girl says as he sits next down to her at the bar.

"Hey," he breathes back and it's like the smirk on his face just appears out of habit. A series of the usual 'where you from''s, 'you been here before''s and small talk follows before she bites down on her lip, doubtful.

"So, you want to get out of here?"

She was pretty, long brown hair and green eyes—not blue, but he could pretend they were. He inwardly shook his head, no, pulling this girl along in his misery wasn't the answer.

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

"You sure you want to buy a studio and this isn't just an impulsive buy because a girl broke your heart?" Mike asks as he runs his hand over the wall, looking around.

"I'm sure," Puck answers, admiring the small studio. This is what he wants, and it has nothing to do with Quinn. Sure, she might've been the push he needed to follow through, but this was his. His dream. "It'll ruin my creditscore and I'll be in serious debt for a few more years, but I get to do what I love. In high definition."

Mike smiles, clapping him on the back, "Then I think you should buy it."

"Why are you dressed like you just attended a funeral?" Jake remarks as Sam marches into bar, dressed in a suit and tie.

"I just got a job at Sports Illustrated after they assured me they could spell check my new weekly column five times before posting it," Sam says, blinking rapidly, like he can't even believe it himself. All he wants to do is tell Brittany that he did, that she believed in him and it paid off, but he can't.

"No way!" "Seriously?" A chorus of voices break out with congratulations.

"Shut up," Blaine exclaims, hugging him. "This is amazing."

"This calls for a round of shots," Puck says, holding up his hand for the barman who nods, yelling 'coming right up' in response.

"This is nice," Blaine sighs over his sex on the beach and their beers, after their shots, "Just us guys, like old times."

"Fuck you, guys," Mike breathes through his nose and earns a bunch of weird, surprised looks from his friends. He hasn't had a drink beside beer in years, so that shot sure made him more loose-lipped than usual. Plus, he never swore. Mike was famous for being nice to everyone.

"Excuse you?" Blaine gasps, raising his bushy eyebrows and Mike sends him a glare.

"Sure, I can't hang out with you guys all the time, but that's fine. I love my wife, and I love my kids and if I need to sacrifice some dumb shit like this for that, I will. I fucking will, dude," he snaps, downing another shot, "You guys need to man the fuck up. And get a life, or fight for the the one you want or stop complaining like a little bitch. And you, Blaine—get back with Kurt or shut the flying fuck up about him. You're obsessed."

Finn stares at him with wide eyes as he tells him, "Mike, I think that's the most you've ever said in one night."

"Well, you guys make my life so damn hard sometimes," Mike retorts, sinking into his seat as his stomach starts to turn. Maybe that second shot wasn't his brightest idea. "You know what, don't man up. Woman up! I bet those girls aren't at a bar crying and whining about the mistakes they made. We all make mistakes—those who own up to them have an actual chance at changing their life. Fuck."

"I always cooked his favorite dinner on thursdays," Blaine cries as he excuses himself and Puck looks at his retreating form with a frown. "What the fuck did that have to do with anything you just said?"

Blaine tries to calm himself down on the toilet as he overthinks everything Mike just said. He need to call Kurt—his Kurt. He needs to call him and tell him how he feels.

But he can't. He shouldn't.

Should he?

He dials his number and puts it to his to ear, before hanging up when he hears his voice, letting out a tiny yelp. A few seconds later his phone rings and he picks it up hesitatingly, "Hello?"

"Blaine, was that you?" It's Kurt, and he sounds so beautiful and a little sad.

"Yes, I'm sorry," he says but, but then he realizes he has nothing to be sorry for. He needs to man the frick up. Woman up! He plays with his bowtie as he says, "I miss your cute little but so much, Kurt, you're my soulmate."

"I miss you, too." Kurt sighs a little, a smile in his voice before retorting, "Get your ass over here, Blaine Devon Anderson."

He practically skips back towards their table, his coat perched in his hand as he waves at his friends.

"Where are you going?" Finn frowns, "You shouldn't be driving."

"I'm taking a cab to see my ex-husband, Kurt Hummel," Blaine winks, a smug smirk on his face. "Bye losers."

"Shit, did that just…?" Jake shakes his head to himself as he widens his eyes.

"He is going to do it, with Kurt, and I'm going to do it with Tina, probably, also, while you guys sit here and mope and whine and be little bitches," Mike adds, pointing his finger randomly at one of them and his friends look at him with disgusted looks.

Sam glares at his friend, "You took it too far, Mike."

"Mom?" Finn calls out, it's Sunday, right? He checked his calendar twice but his mom normally awaits him with fifteen hugs and a dinner enough for four. Families.

"Mom?" He repeats doubtfully. Maybe it wasn't Sunday? He walks up the stairs and figures she might just be taking a nap or something, old people do that, right? "Mooooom?"

He opens the door to her room and immediately closes it with a yelp. "Mom!" Not only did he just see his own mother doing god knows what under the sheets but he was pretty sure it was Burt she was doing it with.

He rushes downstairs, skipping as many as three stairs at a time, his hand on the door when his mother stops him.

"Finn!" She breathes, out of breathe as she closes the robe around her body tightly. Oh God, he's going to throw up. Is that whip cream on her neck? It better be whipcream. His lunch is coming up, oh my God. How is he ever going to be able to look her into the eyes?

He avoids her gaze as he stares at his feet with wide eyes, "It's okay, mom, I actually need to be somewhere and you helped to remind me of what's really important. I mean, you—you obviously have your own life and I should—I should get one!"

"Finn," his mom says a little sadly but he shoots her the biggest grin he can manage without throwing up over her new carpet (Burt's butt keeps flashing in front of his eyes and he needs to get out of here within the minute). "It's okay, mom. We both, needed to… Let go."

"Nice work everybody! You totally reminded me of that video on YouTube with the dancing cats which goes like I'm a kitty cat and I dance, dance, dance," Brittany laughs to herself as her tiny students look confused.

"That's a good thing guys," Santana clarifies as they all look relieved before grabbing their bags and heading to their parents. "So adorable," Brittany gushes as she watches her students go.

"Nice job, Britt," Santana tells her as she high fives her and Brittany grins widely. "Thank you, I got it a few years ago."

Santana smiles back with a little laugh before handing her a bottle of water. Her eyes narrow as she spots another blonde entering the room. "Heads up, Ken is entering the perimeters."

"What?" The tall dancer scrunches up her face as she looks over her shoulder to see what Santana's talking about now. She swears that girl was so weird sometimes.

"Brittany," Sam breathes as he finally sees her again. She turns around to face him and smiles sadly.

"Hi Sam."

"I got the job," he tells her excitedly and her blue eyes light up like they used to and he's happy they still can do that and that he didn't at least screw that up.

"Really? I'm so happy for you, Sammy," she hugs him before pulling away and returning to her sad look. He's just happy she still calls him Sammy. He looks over at Santana and clears his throat.

"On my way out, trouty," she rolls her eyes as she flings her bag over her shoulder and leaves them alone, but not before calling over her shoulder that she will castrate him, if necessary.

"I hope you didn't do any of it for me," Brittany says honestly as she looks down at her feet and puts a stray of hair behind her ear.

"I didn't," he says honestly and she looks up at him, her eyes wide with intrigue, "I mean, at first I did but then I realized I really did want to have a better job because I deserve it—and you deserve that, too. I mean, the first person I wanted to tell was you and it just sucked that I couldn't."

She nods her head, sighing and downcasting her blue orbs, "I know. I couldn't open a lid of pickles the other night and it sucked I couldn't call you because I really wanted a pickle."

He laughs a little as he takes her hand. "I love you and.." He pauses as he gets down on knee and fumbles to get the ring out of his pocket, almost dropping it because of the nerves. "I want to marry you. You're my soulmate, my person—and, I guess I was too stupid to realize that all this time before."

He pauses, glancing from the ring to her, here goes nothing, "Will you marry me, Britt?"

"No," she tells him and he blinks a few times before getting up.

"Oh."

"Yes, I mean, yes, I forgot which word was the right one for a second," she clarifies giddily and he's sure he's never smiled this big as he kisses her. "Yes!" She repeats before kissing him again. "Yes, yes, yes! That's all I ever wanted."

Suddenly they hear somebody clapping. Sam rolls his eyes as Santana appears from behind a rack of clothes. Brittany doesn't even seem to notice her as she stares at the ring around her finger, gushing she talks to herself, "It's glittery like a fairy."

"What? Be glad I didn't kick your ass when you got here, Lips McLippin'."

"We love you, too, Santana!" Brittany responds happily and he squeezes her a little tighter to him as he looks over at her smiles. He loves her, he really does. She has such a big heart and he's lucky she chose to love him with it.

"These are the sicking moments that have me wishing I wouldn'ts have my lesbian going on."

"You're from Lebanon?"

"I love to tell you this, Marley, so, girl, I told you so," Kitty tells her after taking a sip of her ice coffee. She urges on, "Boys are like lumps of coal, some turn into diamonds so collect as many as you can, or something. I feel like I've said this before… I have a huge hangover."

"I know," Marley sighs, as she sips on her own smoothie. "I just—I wanted to believe he was the one for me, you know?"

"No, I don't but since you're like heartbroken or something I'll let it slide for once and nod like I know just whatever it is you're whining about."

Marley laughs a little as she spots Jake passing her table with a coffee in hand as he freezes and stares at her too.

"I—" he starts but she shakes her head, shooting Kitty an apologetic look before rushing outside.

"You dumb octoroon, go after her," Kitty hisses, ordering him sternly and he shoves his coffee her way before following Marley outside.

"Marley, wait up!" He yells after her but she doesn't stop. Luckily for him, he catches up with her and manages to grab her arm.

She stops and turns towards him and he's never seen her look this angry. "Save your breath, Jake. I've heard it all. Maybe not out of your mouth but every. single. guy. is exactly the same. And I was just too dumb and stupid to realize it. So I guess the joke's on me, huh?"

"I don't have any long term goals," he goes on anyway as he looks at her, demandingly because she needs to know. He needs to be able to tell himself he did everything he could to get the best thing that's ever happened to him back. "At least, I didn't. I have one short term goal right now and that is to get another coffee."

She shakes her head, crossing her arms. Even when she's pissed she just sounds so sweet and he can't lose her, he won't. "Jake, I don't have time for this."

He opens his mouth and at first nothing comes out and then he just takes a deep breathe, licking his dry lips before blurting out, "I love you, all I need is you. I would give up anything to be with you again—even my damn job. It's, it's like ever since I met you it's been me and you against the world."

"That's just a bunch of clichés, Jake, how am I supposed to believe you when you've given me nothing but lies all along?" She asks him, her voice faltering and he just wants to hold her for a long time, possibly forever.

"Please," he pleads, reaching out to hold her hand, "I have never said I love you to anyone else before, not even my mom, and when I did that night—I meant it. I will do anything to prove that to you."

"I can't," her voice shakes as she jerks her hand away but he reaches out to take it in his again. His eyes are pleading as he says, barely audible, "Please, please believe me."

A tear rolls down her cheek as she nods her head and takes in a deep breath, burying her face in his chest and he feels like he's re-entering his own body or something, has just been watching his own shitty life from a different point.

"You better not break my heart again, Jake—I don't think I could survive that."

"I promise," he says with a chuckle, the biggest smile he's ever had stretching across his face as he kisses her head and holds her tightly.

This—standing in a public street with his arms around the prettiest girl he's ever seen and earning a few weird looks from other people—is the happiest he's ever been and he's definitely not going to screw that up. Not again.

Finn finally finds his way to her after being stopped by half of her huge Jewish family with questions like 'who are you, you fine young man' and 'where's your kippah, son' (whatever that may be, it sounds like a fish. should he have brought a fish? dude, jews are weird) and she immediately turns away from him. Great, the cold shoulder.

Not even hesitating, he walks passed and climbs onto the table in front of her. He vaguely remembers seeing this in a scene of the OC, a show she made him watch but his brain is shortcutting right now and all he can think of and see is her.

"Hello, everybody," he clears his throat nervously as he looks at Rachel, "I know this isn't very kosher or something and wow—I feel even taller than normal—wow," his eyes widen for a second (he feels like he entered smurf village or something) before he sees Rachel raising her eyebrows and he realizes he's here with a mission.

He takes a deep breath, realizing he's sweating in very weird places right now, before finally saying, "I just wanted everyone to know Rachel Barbra Berry is the only woman in my life that I need. I love her—yep, I love her and I will probably love her forever," his eyes land on hers and she's smiling with tears in her eyes. "Despite the fact she already has met the love of her life. Two of them actually. But I hope she has enough room in her heart for Joe, Broadway and me."

She lets out a throaty laugh before he gets down from the table and steps down from the table, holding out his arms for her.

"I love you," he clarifies once again, just to be sure she heard and all, and she nods her head, hugging him. She can't speak, her throat closed up and he kisses her head as he squeezes her tighter.

"You're all I need, I promise," he repeats himself, just to make sure she heard and she looks up at him with her adorable brown eyes and he just has to kiss her.

"I told you, g-pa, they totally gross me out everywhere," is the last thing he hears from Joseph's lips before he kisses her again (and again and again and oh, is that a hamburger, he's super hungry from all the love professing confessions—wait, he's kissing Rachel. And again and again and again).

She leaves Biff by himself after thirty minutes of work, work, work, work and more work talk. He was great and ambitious and she just missed something, you know? Even that hadn't changed after all these years.

She thinks of Puck and his dreams and how she had treated him so horribly but how he had made her feel so different and good and how it scared her and by now she's crying because why was she so stupid? She's crying in a goddamn car, by herself, listening to a Céline Dion song and it's all because she was so blinded and because of what? The fact he wasn't a high profile doctor or businessman? So stupid.

She calls Rachel who tells her Puck's performing in a showcase tonight, promoting his new album. She smiles despite herself because she's so, so proud of him for doing something that he knows could maybe never work out, and still doing it. He was so strong.

Rachel bites her lip, sighing, "You should come, Q."

"No thank you, Rachel."

She just—can't. Why would he still want her? She could never be that strong. Except, now she maybe has to be.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

He's about to go on and shit—he's freaking out, okay? This is like, his entire life. And it's depending on it.

"Puck?" He freezes because he's about hundred percent sure that's Quinn's voice and he's also about a hundred percent sure he can't deal frickin' with this right now.

"I," he starts, turning around to find exactly who he had feared to find. "I'm sorry, Quinn, I can't—I can't do this right now."

"Just hear me out, okay?" She swallows hard and she looks pained and damaged and vulnerable and she's not allowed to feel that way when she broke his heart. She's not allowed to come here and add insult to fucking almost-nearly-killed-me-injury and ruin his night.

"I can't, Quinn," he clarifies sternly, nervously looking out at the stage to see if he's on yet. "You didn't want me, I get it."

"Look, Puck, I don't care," she snaps, pulling on his hand as he faces her with an incredulous look. After realizing she couldn't at her date, she realized that's more the reason why she should.

"Seriously?"

"No," she smiles tearfully, "I don't care what you do for a living because you're amazing, you were amazing to me and you're hot and sometimes also cute and you play the guitar and you write songs about me and you're romantic and funny and talented, so talented."

"Quinn," he sighs, peeking through the curtain and at the stage once again. He couldn't believe her now, it just sound like a bunch of bullshit to him. Second thoughts, she was having second thoughts and then as soon as they were back together she'd break him all over again.

"No, you're amazing and sweet and romantic and special. You're not the loser, I'm the loser for letting you go," she smiles careful but wider this time, taking a step closer, and squeezing his hand, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you, you egghead."

"We're too different," he states, his grip on his guitar tightening and she shakes her head. She's not giving in so easily.

"I still love you."

"It'll never work, Quinn," he urges on, his voice quiet and she puts a hand on his cheek, kissing him for just a second before fixing his shirt.

"I. still. love. you."

"We can't," he's whispering by now and she smiles, kissing his lips again.

"I still love you, Puck, and I know you love me, too."

He finally smiles, carefully, but it's a smile and he lifts her off the ground, kisses her again, her nose, her cheeks, her chin, her mouth, before telling a beaming Quinn, "I love you, too."

Well, so this was the story of my douchebag friends, their perfectly sweet girlfriends and wifes (well, and Quinn—no offence but she can be a b-word when she wants to) and me (Blaine Devon Anderson-Hummel, that is).

Tina's pregnant with like her eighth or ninth or twenty-seventh child—no one actually knows. Let's just say we've bought Mike a year-supply of condoms when he brought us the good news.

Brittany and Sam finally got married, it was Barbie and Ken-themed which was weirdly enough not Brittany's idea (what can I say, Kurt tried to stop that fiasco but no luck) but other than that the wedding was super cute and adorable and I can say with a lot of certainty those two are definitely going to stay together forever (it might have been the portrait of them together in the living room dressed as avatars and half naked with the words 'oe tìyawn ngenga nìftxavang' spelled across it that was the dead giveaway).

Finn and Rachel are totally one of those couples who're so cute you want to punch them in the face but I guess that's a good thing in the end. Little birdy told me little Joe is expecting a little Finchel (Rachel's portmanteau of her and Finn's names after she finally stopped referring to them in the third person ('oh Rachel and Finn are so buying this!' Barf). Like I said—punchable) baby sibling soon enough.

We have Jake and Marley who just shacked up in the middle of LA in a cute little apartment and Jake finally started following his dream again (we went to see his first show a few days ago it was amazeballs if it wasn't for the tight tights he was wearing—I've seen too much of that boy, it's a tragedy) with the help of Marley—who's the sweetest cupcake I've certainly ever met. She totally gave me a bowtie with kittens on it for my birthday and I think I fell in love with her right then.

Then there's Puck and Quinn and they're well... Just Puck and Quinn. I think I know more about their sex life than my own. They're shacked up in Quinn's apartment and recently bought a dog. Probably to outbark their sexcries. (It's disgusting, they were literally having sex next to Brittany's and Sam's wedding cake in the kitchen and I'm blatantly surprised no one ended up pregnant.)

Happy endings are rare, and we did all have our fair share of hardships (like that bitchslap Rachel gave Finn, can you say ouch) but in the end I can genuinely say—we turned out alright (some awesome, like me of course, others meh, I won't name anyone but Sam's so whipped Brittany convinced him to sign a contract in which he's legally obligated to give her seven children, two cats, a dog and a bird—I shit you not).

Rock on!

P.S. me and Kurt are super happy and are in the process of adopting a little cutiecat from China right now. Thanks for asking!

fin

a review would mean the world and would have me smiling for a year or so (or something like that) and would totally make my non-existent balls tingle! ! ! ! ! tell me your favorite part and if you'd possibly want a sequel (since the movie is getting a sequel, sooooon) or review if youre excited for the 100th episode and i know u are dont lie i expect at least two reviews thanks for making this awesome