you are eyes without a face (oh darlin', you got no human grace)
The first time Matt Rutherford thinks he meets Quinn Fabray, he's a lowly high school freshman - standing in the McKinley school gym, trying on football equipment that is too small for him.
He sighs, as he takes off the 4th pair of shoulder-pads he had tried on, handing them back to Coach Beiste – they were too small. They were all too small. Every jersey, cleat, and helmet.
Matt peers to his side, and finds his fellow teammates chirping amongst themselves – taking selfies and photos in their football gear. Star quarterbacks and quick wide-recievers all had gotten the newest jerseys and helmets.
Whilst the poor, giant-of-a linebacker? Can't even fit in hand-me-downs. Yikes.
Coach Beiste pats the young linebacker on the back, "We'll figure something out. Okay, big guy?"
"Big guy"
Matt grimaces at the nickname. It was one he had gotten used to hearing growing up, and yet still was never sure how to react to it.
Matt feigns a smile in response, he opens his mouth to speak but is halted immediately:
"Yo, Matt!" Puck exclaims from across the gymnasium, wildly flaying his arms about. "Over here, bro!"
His mohawked-teammate was proudly wearing the high school varsity jacket, play-wrestling with another couple of varsity-jacketed jocks.
Behind the jocks, about a dozen Cheerios sat on the bleachers, conversing amongst themselves; half egging on the shenanigans of Puck and his posse, the other half engaging in absent-minded chitchat.
This was it, ladies and gentlemen! McKinley's High's royalty all in one room – well, the royalty + Matt.
The young linebacker feels Beiste give him a little shove of encouragement, and just like that, he finds himself walking towards the group of jocks and cheerleaders.
"What's up, Puck?" he says with a little head nod-up, just like he had seen in all those 80s movies.
Though Puckerman doesn't catch it, and if he did, pretends not to see it. Rather he grabs Matt by the arm and displays him in front of the bleachers – in front of the Cheerios. As if Matt was some alien to be ogled and laughed at.
"Oye ladies, Matt over here is gonna be the star defenseman of the team this season." Puck stifles a snicker, "Why don't you introduce yourself to 'em, Matt?"
The sarcasm in his voice nearly makes Matt choke. He doesn't want to say anything, he doesn't want to be here – he just wants to go back to Coach Beiste and feel sorry for himself all over.
But instead, he waves. Like a damn idiot. "er… hi, girls!"
He hears stifled snickers and quiet laughs go around the group. They create a pit in his stomach that he isn't quite sure how to fill, as his eyes dart around trying to find the source of the laughter.
He gives up in defeat.
With a few exceptions, Matt doesn't recognize any of the Cheerios or jocks. Not really, anyway.
Well, that is until he sees her – or well, they see each other.
She sat on the front-row bleacher, legs crossed in near-perfect symmetry. Her high pony-tail and Cheerios uniform should've blended her into the crowd; though it did anything but.
They share a glance for barely a second, and he sees something shift in her: Recognition? Fear? Nostalgia?
He isn't sure, but the young Cheerio's posture falters slightly at their shared gaze. No longer a frosty royal of McKinley High, she is human all for but a second.
But that is only for a second – the very next moment, she looks away. Nonchalantly and casually. As if he bored her, as if he wasn't there. After all, lowly linebackers couldn't entertain frosty cheerleaders.
And yet…
There was something about her.
No, it wasn't her honey-blonde hair. Or her picture-perfect nose (that he had to wonder if it had been chiseled away by human hands).
It was… it was her eyes.
As if he had seen those eyes before somewhere. Like he had seen them cry, and glint with joy, and narrow with anger.
Matt cocks his head, his own eyes squinting in deep concentration – as he tries to pin where, when, he had seen this specific Cheerio before.
someone elbows his ribs, knocking him off his train of thought:
"Don't think too hard now Matt, okay?" Puck jibes, slinging an arm around Matt's shoulder. "I don't need my linebacker blowing a fuse before homecoming."
The snarky quip sends a wave of laughter around the group and though Matt doesn't like it – he plays along, faking a laugh or two for good sport.
Puck then narrows his eyes, looking around at the group of cheerleaders, and then back at Matt. He does that a couple more times, until his eyebrows jump in realization – "Oh, I see now Matt…" he leans in closer, until his breath tickles the skin of Matt's ear. "You're gunning for a chance with Quinn, huh?"
Matt doesn't move, he doesn't even breathe for a moment – staying perfectly still. He doesn't want to make a scene – he will not make a scene.
'Quinn' - was that her name? He swore that… no, no, no. He must've mistaken her for someone else.
Yet still…
Matt looks back at his mohawked-teammate with a certain amount of conviction – using all his might to muster up the toughest face he could make.
"er… I mean I don't even really know her…" he whispers back.
Puck doesn't buy it, the large smirk he has plastered on his face tells Matt exactly that. But the mohawked-teen leaves it alone, nonetheless. Giving a rather aggressive pat on Matt's shoulder, he leans in once more, "Whatever you say, big guy."
'Big guy'
Again, that term. Matt scowls at it. He turns to Puck, but by the time he gets the courage to confront him, Puckerman is already halfway out the gym – and with him, all the jocks and Cheerios.
The gymnasium goes quiet for a moment – as Matt stands alone, with nothing more to keep him company except football equipment that won't fit him and the lingering scent of girls' perfume.
And those eyes – oh those eyes. Stamping themselves into Matt's mind like a bad tattoo. Coloured in a mess of green and brown.
"Were they hazel or were they green?"
He doesn't know. He doesn't mind.
Just as long as he sees them again.
A/N: billy idol - eyes without a face (listen to the marsheaux cover, voice is quite similar to agron's) is deffo the inspo, so i'll be using those lyrics throughout the fic. re-watching glee, and matt rutherford is too babygirl; i'm very upset that he's resorted to being an obscure side-character. ngl, this was just a late-night word vomit - but if enough ppl like it, i might make it a regular thing. also i didn't edit this properly, so if there are any mistakes lmk and i can fix em.