A.N. This fic is the product of the Support Stacie Author Auction. Thanks to 24jls who placed the winning bid on me and provided the entire basis of this story, including the Tin Pan South Music Festival which is a real event!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything familiar. I've taken liberties with music to assume that Puck is a song writer. (I can't get Mark Salling to do some original songs for this fic, so we'll have to pretend that songs by other artists are from him, ok?) Partial lyrics in this chapter (shown in italics) come from "Falling In Love" by Lisa Loeb (best in acoustic version from Lilith Fair, but can't find that easily online, so studio version on youtube will have to do): /watch?v=wanj-HCnRnc. "Where You Want to Be" by Darren Hayes makes another appearance, so here's that link if you're so inclined: / watch?v=rc0qlvdd-t4.
...
Five years ago, Noah Puckerman knew he had made some wrong choices in his life. And that knowledge combined with the inability to really do anything about it almost killed him. He turned to an old stand-by to help him cope with his loss: alcohol. It was pretty easy to get drunk even before he turned 21, considering that he had a standing invitation at many of the campus frat houses despite the fact that he had never pledged. He couldn't really afford to be in a frat and he much preferred living with Rachel in their apartment compared to the idea of living with a bunch of dudes. But in the spring semester of junior year he was alone, in their apartment. He couldn't stand it.
He couldn't stand seeing the emptiness. He couldn't stand hearing the silence.
So he left. He went out every night. His grades went to shit. He couldn't study or concentrate in class. Sometimes he didn't even bother to go to class. He thought about dropping out and just kickin' it with the band, but even his band-mates were starting to get on his case about always wanting to play 'fuckin' morose-ass songs'—because that was college for you—dudes pairing words like morose with fuck and shit like that. It's not that Puck didn't know that the guys were right. Of course morose-ass songs weren't exactly what the frat party crowd wanted to hear. He just couldn't bring himself out of his depression.
It didn't take long for his grades to plummet to the point at which he was in danger of being kicked out of school. He was on academic probation. He'd just turned 21, and Rachel wasn't there to celebrate with him or to stop him from going out to the nearest bar and getting completely shit-faced. She still had his number, even though he didn't have hers. Did she call him? Did she reach out to him? No.
Was he going to sit around in his empty apartment feeling sorry for himself?
Fuck no.
He was going to go sit alone in a packed bar and feel sorry for himself.
Whatever. There's a difference.
Looking back on it, going to The Corner Pub might have been his first good decision in a while. If only because that's where he met her.
It just happened that the only empty seat at the bar was next to a beautiful girl. In fact, when Puck first grabbed the stool, he didn't even notice her. But the situation changed quickly. He ordered a shot of Jack and a beer, and that's when he heard the girl next to him speak up.
"Another gin and tonic, Ray," she said. Puck could hear the sadness in her voice. That's really what made him turn to look at her.
"You sound morose as fuck," he started to say, pleased to use his new vocabulary word from his high-brow friends. Then he gasped, "Shit, who did that to you?" he asked the girl. She had tried to cover the bruise on her jaw with her hair and some make-up, but it was still visible. And swollen. Otherwise, the black-haired beauty was breathtaking. She reminded him a little of Santana, which was good. If she had reminded him of another girl, he would have been in big trouble that night.
The girl looked back at him with her large dark eyes, "So it's still that obvious, huh?" She pulled out a little mirror from her purse. "Shit," she muttered. "Fuckin' asshole. I think it's getting worse. I guess I better go ice it down some more." She started to pull some bills out of her purse as she rose from her seat.
"So someone really hit you?" He grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving. He saw her wince and he realized she had bruises there too. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He pulled away. A memory of his mother covering up her own bruises from his abusive father flashed through his mind. "Nobody deserves that shit," he glowered.
She regarded him skeptically. "Listen, this gallant act you've got going isn't gonna get you anywhere with me. Obviously, I have some issues with men right now, and I'm not interested. So if you'll excuse me…"
"Wait, are you in trouble or something?" This time Puck just touched her hand gently so he didn't hurt her. But his other hand was clenching with anger at the thought of the asshole who did this to her. It didn't help that he was also picturing his deadbeat dad and his own poor mother who always tried to be tough as nails. "I know we don't know each other, but I'm a big wreck myself since my girlfriend left me. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, I could probably be of use kicking the hell out of the bastard who would… My dad used to…" Puck was furious and couldn't even finish a sentence. He shook his head and took a huge swallow of beer.
The girl's eyes softened. She seemed to be able to tell that he was genuinely concerned and not just trying to get laid. "That's really sweet of you. Misguided, but sweet. I don't need more violence in my life, but thank you for your concern. I'm Christina, by the way."
"I'm Puck. Well, Noah Puckerman, but friends call me Puck." He extended his hand and she shook it.
Christina scoffed a little with amusement. "You seem to have an interesting story too, Puck. But I really do need to get some ice on this so I don't look like a mutated chipmunk or something tomorrow."
Puck chuckled at the image. "Right, well, good to meet you, Christina. Just one thing. I wanted to make sure the guy who hit you isn't gonna be wherever it is you're going to go. I could either come with you or you could get some ice and hang out at my place while you figure out your next move. No funny business, I swear."
Again, Christina regarded him critically as she made her decision. She sighed. "Actually, that would be really nice of you. Because you're right, he knows all the places I would try to go that aren't home."
"Let me close out my tab," Puck said.
"Just in case this is still all part of an elaborate act, I want to inform you that I have pepper spray, and I will use it," Christina threatened.
Puck chuckled again. "Noted. And good. I'm glad you have some form of protection. Not from me. I mean, you don't need to worry about needing protection from me." Puck fumbled with the words to explain himself.
Christina let out a musical little laugh. She started to speak, then closed her mouth. A bad joke with sexual innuendos about protection had crossed her mind. She didn't want to go there.
"What?" asked Puck.
"I changed my mind about what I was going to say. It was completely inappropriate. Instead of what I was about to say, let me just say, thank you. You're really quite the gentleman."
Puck smirked. He thought that he'd been called a lot of things, but a gentleman wasn't usually at the top of the list. He decided that if he said it out loud, it would sound too sexual, so he didn't say anything. See? He was growing.
Too bad Rachel couldn't see that.
Too bad he couldn't see Rachel.
Puck's lips turned downward as sadness washed over him again.
Still, he felt like he was on a bit of a mission. Someone needed to keep this girl safe from her abuser. He had been a little too young to really protect his mom—though he had tried. And eventually the asshole left. Puck got a sense of purpose out of his random meeting at The Pub; it was a welcome distraction.
And that's how things began between Christina Soriano and Noah Puckerman. He ended up protecting her from her abusive boyfriend. She ended up stopping him from drinking himself to death and dropping out of school. It was a relationship that worked to their mutual benefit. In more ways than they would have guessed in the beginning.
*** Present Day ***
"Puck, I think we need a break."
"C'mon, Chris. We're this close to something, I can tell."
"No, I'm tapped out. We've been working on the chorus for hours! I just wanna take a break from writing this song. It's emotionally draining to write about our failed relationships from the past. You know…the Oscars are on now…can't we just go watch the end?" Christina gave a little pout to add to her plea. Puck knew this was a losing battle. If he pushed her, she'd just whine and they wouldn't get any work done anyway.
"Fine, we'll watch your stupid awards show. I'll make popcorn."
Christina squealed and gave him a quick hug before settling down on the couch and turning on the tv. As Puck put the bag in the microwave, he remembered why he didn't want to watch this with Chris. With anyone. Maybe they'd missed the Best Actress category…
They hadn't.
In fact, Puck was just in time to see the announcement of Rachel's name and the camera shot of her kissing some dark-haired douchebag sitting next to her. Ok, he didn't look that bad, but he was a douchebag for sure. Puck could tell. Like all those Hollywood types. But Rachel, she looked…amazing. She looked the same except her hair was straighter and shinier than what he remembered. Her figure was slammin'. And her face was glowing. Except her eyes. Puck thought he could see some sadness there, which was unexpected considering the moment she was having on tv in front of him.
Apparently, he grunted or something out loud because Chris turned to him. "What? What was that for?"
"Nothing. I just used to know her that's all," Puck mumbled.
"Really?! You knew Rachel Berry?! That's incredible! Why didn't you tell me before? Like when all the Oscar hype started? You never said, 'Oh, by the way, I know that girl.' You're usually not a modest guy, so why keep this to yourself?"
Puck scoffed at being called out for not being modest. "Oh, thanks, Chris. I guess we're not partners for nothing—you sure tell it like it is and put me in my place."
Christina shoved him playfully. "Damn right. Now quit avoiding the question."
Puck smirked, "Who me?"
"Yes, you! How do you know this Oscar-winner? And why didn't you mention it?"
"Like I was just supposed to go around bragging that I went to high school with someone who became a huge success while I'm here struggling away with you in Nashville?"
"Yes! Yes, you were!" Christina exclaimed wide-eyed. "Wow, I'm so jealous! So how well did you know her?"
"Not well," Puck lied. But it came out casually, especially when he sprinkled the lie with some truth. "We ran in different circles. I was a jock. She was a gleek. A glee club geek, I mean."
Christina nodded as she appraised the physique of the man seated next to her. "Yeah, I could see that."
"But look who came out on top," Puck said self-deprecatingly.
"Aw, don't be like that—we're doing ok, Puckerman. You're always ragging on how much Hollywood sucks and how great the atmosphere is in Nashville, so you can't tell me that's the life you'd rather have! You've got that radio song that gets played. And you know we're going to kill at Tin Pan South this week!"
"Speaking of the music festival, shouldn't we get back to working on that song?" Puck elbowed Chris none-too-subtly.
"Fine, fine. I missed the end of the awards anyway talking to you about your big, disappointing secret."
So the fellow singer-songwriters went back to work while Puck thought about his big disappointing secret.
...
When Rachel's flight arrived in Nashville, she really had no idea what to do next. She decided she needed to procure a hotel first, but she hadn't called ahead to make reservations. One movie and she'd already gotten used to the perks of having "people" who perform such tasks for her. She got into a cab at the airport terminal and asked the driver to take her to a good hotel downtown.
"Can ya' be more specific, Ma'am?" the driver asked.
"Not really," Rachel said honestly. "I have no idea what I'm doing here or where I'm going. Can you just take me somewhere reputable near good music venues?"
"Sure thing. There's a music festival goin' on. You here for that? Wanna stay near some of those places?"
"Yes, I would, thank you," Rachel said brightly. Maybe she'd see Noah at the music festival. Rachel guessed that he had come to Nashville to continue to pursue music, though she admitted to herself she was hurt that he hadn't chosen to do so in New York instead. But she realized that her actions surely hurt him deeply. She regretted the rash decision she had made all those years ago. The regret and anxiety coiled in her stomach. She had no idea what she could do to make this right, but she knew she had to do something.
After Rachel checked into the hotel, she decided to find out what this music festival was all about—and fortunately, the concierge was very gracious when she asked him. He even pulled out a flyer for the event. When Rachel studied the flyer, she found Noah's name and saw that he was scheduled to play—at that very moment. She asked the concierge to call her a cab, and he pointed across the street. "No cab needed, Ma'am."
Rachel walked into the bar where Noah Puckerman was advertised to be playing. And there he was on the stage playing his guitar in the middle of a song. Rachel's breath hitched involuntarily at the sight of him. He looked as good (or better) than she remembered. His hair was close-cropped, but longer than it had been in college, and the jeans and dark t-shirt he wore showed that he was still in exceptional physical condition. Rachel found herself blushing as she stared at him while memories they had together came flooding back.
But a beautiful, willowy girl was there on stage too and Rachel disconcertedly took in her long legs and perfect silhouette. She was standing in front of one microphone with her eyes scanning the crowd, while he was seated on a stool. Rachel caught a glimpse of Noah's amber-green eyes before he closed them as he sang along with the girl who took the lead vocals. It was hauntingly sad, all guitars with a country twist she'd never really heard from him before, but perhaps she should have expected given their location in the heart of country music city.
The time between meeting
And finally leaving
Is sometimes called falling in love
The time between meeting
And finally leaving
Is sometimes called falling in love
Sometimes called falling in love
Rachel felt a lump in her throat and tears threatened to spill over. Is that what Noah thought about their years together? It was just a period between meeting and leaving? Had he moved on with this girl with the small, yet soothing voice? The girl continued by softly singing the last lines of the song without her male accompaniment.
She wanted to be a cowboy.
She was shootin' em down.
She was trampin' around.
The crowd applauded and whistled appreciatively for the pair on stage. "Thank you," the girl said demurely into the microphone. "We just wanted to show we can write and sing songs from a variety of genres. So that was our little 'lost love country song'."
Noah spoke into his microphone, "Give it up for Christina Soriano, everyone! We just finished writing that chorus together this weekend. Not too bad, right?"
Christina piped up again, "Thanks! Now we'll take a quick break to set up the instruments for what a lot of you are waiting to hear…the vocal stylings of Noah Puckerman on his big hit song, Where You Want to Be!" Christina gave him a playful hip-check as he stood to set up keyboards.
"You can take this opportunity to refill your beers," Puck joked to the crowd. "I know Bill and Carla over there will appreciate that." He winked at the two bartenders behind the counter before turning his back on the audience.
Rachel watched the exchange, stunned.
The song she had heard the other day…the song that changed her course and compelled her to find Noah…was his song! As bittersweet as this realization was, along with the sight of Noah (looking spectacular as usual) and his easy-going manner with the crowd and his song-writing partner, Rachel couldn't bring herself to leave. She probably should leave rather than disturb him when he had clearly moved on. Instead, Rachel was frozen in place in the audience.
She noticed a vendor at the front of the room selling some cowboy hats and boots and other trinkets. She pulled herself out of her daze to look them over while she waited for the song to begin—the song that had stirred her heart into action only days before.
...
"Hey, Puck?" Christina started nonchalantly. "Your old high school pseudo-friend, Rachel Berry…so, what do you think you'd do if you saw her after all these years?"
"Hell if I know, why?" Puck asked, brows furrowed with confusion.
"Because I think that's her," Christina nodded her head subtly to the entrance where Rachel was browsing over Nashville souvenirs.
"Shit." Puck jumped backstage abruptly.
Christina let out a laugh. "She's already seen you, you know. I saw her walk in during the end of Falling in Love. What's your problem? A little star-struck?" she teased.
"You're not being helpful," Puck grumbled.
"I'm rarely helpful," she countered, though they both knew in many ways that wasn't true. She continued, "This is quite a reaction to someone you barely knew."
"Well, I might've lied about that," Puck shrugged.
"I figured. It just got juicy, and I want details later, but guess what? The crowd's getting restless out there. We gotta play your song. Now!" She shoved him back on stage.
She was dying to know everything but she had a pretty good guess. That first night the two of them met back in Ohio, he had been really broken up over a girl. He'd mentioned the name Rachel before over the years, but had never talked too much about what had happened between them. It was too much of a coincidence that his girlfriend had been named Rachel and suddenly the famous Rachel he'd known in school had showed up out of the blue. Christina wished that Puck had trusted her enough to tell her the whole story before she had packed up and moved to Nashville with him to try to make their dreams of earning a living through music come true. But she also knew that she would have made the same choice with or without the knowledge of who had broken his heart. They had both needed mending and a fresh start.
Yes, she would have gone with him, no matter what.
...
Hearing Noah actually sing Where You Want to Be right in front of her made Rachel break down. The tears that had threatened to fall before now came full-force. She had to go to the ladies' room to clean up before she let him see her. When she felt satisfied, she emerged and waited for the end of the show so she could try to talk to him.
...
Throughout the song, Puck tried to avoid looking at Rachel, but it was kind of impossible. She just had a presence that drew his eye. And she looked fucking hot of course. She was wearing a cowboy hat, which might have been a ridiculous attempt to fit in or to somewhat conceal her identity, and part of him wanted to laugh at the sight of her and another part wanted to cry. But he had written this song with Rachel in mind anyway, so he soldiered on and did his best to get through it. When she left crying at the end of it, Puck had to fight the urge to run after her. He didn't know if she was coming back. He didn't know why she was here in the first place. And it wasn't his fault she got upset. She left him. Puck felt unsettled as anger overtook his initial impulse to feel concerned. He wasn't sure if he could handle this little reunion or whatever it was that Rachel wanted.
He and Chris finished their set. It went fairly well, but Puck was pretty sure he would have done better if half of his brain wasn't occupied by thoughts of the little brunette in the fancy dress and the cowboy hat. He guided Chris by the small of her back as they headed down the stage to where they were going to get the trailer to load up their equipment. Puck saw Rachel out of the corner of his eye, but he tried to ignore her.
It didn't work. Rachel Berry was nothing if not persistent.
"Noah!" she called as she followed him. "It's me. Can we talk? Please?"
"Not really a good time, Berry," Puck said gruffly. "I gotta load all this equipment up so we can get outta here. Other people need the stage."
Rachel was taken aback by the impersonal response, but she composed herself. Because she shouldn't expect him to be thrilled to see her after she left the way she did… "I will help you with what you need to load. Then I'd really like to talk to you. I'm so sorry, and there's so much we need to say to each other."
"Funny, you didn't let me have a word in when it really mattered five years ago. Now you want to talk me?" Puck was so angry and hurt. And when he felt that way, he got really defensive. He hadn't grown out of that yet.
"We're not turning down an offer for help," Christina said firmly, shooting Puck a dangerous look. Then she turned a sweet smile to Rachel. "Hello, I'm Christina. Thank you so much for offering to help us. I'm a huge fan of yours and really can't believe you're here!" She began to gush.
Somehow the interaction calmed Rachel down a bit since talking to fans was somewhat familiar and comforting. Puck took the opportunity to start loading the heavy amps into the trailer they used to transport their equipment. Using the energy helped release some of his stress too.
"Thank you. And I enjoyed your show. You have a lovely quality to your voice," Rachel said.
"Oh, well, thanks," Christina said humbly. "It's nothing compared to yours." It was true.
Rachel smiled politely because she couldn't refute the statement. Christina abruptly exclaimed, "Holy shit! I just did it too!"
"Excuse me?" Rachel frowned.
"Uh, sorry," Christina said. "It's just the other night I told Puck to stop acting like he was a screw-up compared to you, and I just did the same thing. Like it's impossible not to. You're just…a lot to take in I guess."
Rachel got defensive, "I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad about themselves. I just…"
Christina interrupted her, "No, no," she rushed. "I'm not saying you do it on purpose or anything. You just have this…energy surrounding you. Like star-power, if you will. And for a minute it can make others around you feel really…energized. But it can also make them feel like…they're not on your level. I mean, I feel more expensive just standing next to you!"
Puck overhead some of this exchange and barked out a laugh when he saw the confusion on Rachel's face and the enthusiasm in Chris' eyes. "Ha! That's a good way to put it, Chris. Berry, I think she means that you're really classy. We feel classier next to you—and trashier at the same time."
"Thanks for being my interpreter, Puck. You have such a way with words," Christina said with a smile. She picked up her guitar case and headed to the trailer, conveniently leaving the other two to talk.
"As I told Christina, I don't mean to make anyone feel uncomfortable," Rachel said carefully.
"I know," he said. "But look around you, then look at what you're wearing. See the difference?"
Rachel looked at the crowd of patrons in jeans and shorts, with a few girls in skirts walking around the room. She looked down at her designer dress. It was a lightweight summer dress, but it was still obviously of a different quality than what others were wearing around her. "I came straight from L.A.!" she protested. "I was just there for the awards and a few…appearances. I'm sorry if I'm dressed inappropriately for the venue," she huffed. "I picked up this hat on the way in so I'd fit in a little better."
Puck found himself smirking at her like old times. "Chill out, Rachel. Your dress is great. You look great. Even in that ridiculous hat from the tourist trap shop."
Rachel couldn't help but blush at the compliment that was buried in there. "Maybe you shouldn't say things like that," Rachel said quietly, gesturing towards Christina who was heading their way.
"What? Chris? She's cool. She wouldn't care if I make fun of your tourist hat," he said with a wink. "I'm gonna load up the rest of the amps," he said to Chris as she entered. Puck wasn't sure what had come over him. One minute he was furious at Rachel, the next minute he was flirting with her. Get a hold of yourself, Puckerman, he told himself.
Rachel's heart was racing but she was frustrated by the fact that she still didn't know what 'Chris' was to Noah. Were they…together?
She put a hand on Christina's shoulder to get her attention. "I just want to apologize for any disruption my unannounced arrival may have caused. I came to see Noah, but I didn't realize he had a…partner."
"Oh, yeah, we met back in college. Junior year. I guess I knew about you except that Puck never told me it was you. I mean, wow! Maybe if he'd mentioned it before now then I wouldn't be such a stammering idiot around you—but you know Puck, he keeps a lot of things to himself a lot of the time."
"Yes," Rachel nodded. "I see you know him well too." Her eyes almost teared-up again at the thought of how well this beautiful woman knew her Noah, but Rachel got a hold of herself this time. Still, Rachel started to have some doubts about her romantic notion of coming to find Noah. He had met Chris during junior year of college—but was that before or after Rachel left? Maybe their relationship didn't mean as much to him as it had meant to her if he had been able to move on so quickly. As soon as she thought it, Rachel felt a little hypocritical—since she was the one who had left in the first place. But it upset her that she hadn't figured out just what this girl was to Noah, or what she had been in the past. She did her best to act as though the doubts weren't eating away at her. She was an actress, after all.
Christina smiled and nodded back to agree that she did know him well…just as Puck interrupted. "Less talking, more loading," he said as he lifted another amp.
The girls shrugged at each other good-naturedly and began to carry a keyboard together. Puck shook his head as he watched the interaction. He wasn't quite sure if he could believe what he was seeing. Rachel Berry was actually in Nashville, helping load equipment, while talking and smiling with the other woman in his life. Unbelievable.
Once they had finished loading everything, Christina turned to Puck. "I'll drive this thing back. Call me if you need a ride home. But I won't wait up past one. I'm beat." And then she turned to Rachel. "It was nice to meet you. Surreal, but nice." She pulled Rachel in for a hug, but it was for a purpose. She whispered into her ear. "Just be careful with this one. He's not as tough as he looks. I'm not sure he can take anything else."
Rachel stood back and looked at Christina wide-eyed. "I—I," she started, opening and closing her mouth. Then she composed herself once again. "Yes, it was surreal but nice to meet you as well," Rachel said primly as she shook the other woman's hand.
And with that, Christina sashayed away; leaving Puck looking awkwardly at Rachel, and Rachel looking back at him feeling a little sick to her stomach.
Puck broke the silence. "Alright, you wanted to talk, so talk." He folded his arms across his chest.
Rachel couldn't help but admire those lovely arms for a moment. "Well, rather than continuing this conversation in the parking lot, I suggest we go back inside and grab a drink."
"Fine, after you," Puck said, and he watched as his own hand betrayed him and reached out for the small of her back. Old habits.
A small smile slipped onto Rachel's face when she felt his hand guiding her, and she let out a sad sigh when she felt him remove his hand a few seconds later. They ordered drinks at the bar then settled into a booth for a bit more privacy.
"First, I want to tell you that I loved your songs. You seem to be doing really well, Noah," Rachel said sincerely.
"Not as well as you."
"Don't put yourself down," Rachel admonished. "You're doing what you always wanted to do. You have a wonderful song on the radio. That song made me come to find you. I didn't know it was your song at the time, but that's part of what I wanted to tell you. About why I'm here."
"Yeah, so why are you here? After all these years without a word. Why now? And hell, while I've got you here, why the fuck did you leave me like that in the first place?"
Rachel took a deep breath. She had anticipated that things wouldn't be smooth. It was Puck after all. But she hadn't mentally prepared enough for how difficult it would be to sit face-to-face with him and explain herself. She had written him the letter the first time for a reason. "To answer your second question, did you read the letter I left?"
"Of course I did!" Puck said incredulously. Then he tried to calm down too. "I was an idiot," Puck admitted. "But you shouldn't have left like that. I know we could've worked it out. Long distance relationship or something. I could've transferred senior year."
"Why didn't you? You knew where I applied. You knew where I was."
"Shit, Rach. You cut me out of your life! How was I supposed to know you wanted me to chase you? Shit, you really are crazy," he shook his head. "You know I'm an idiot. You had to know I wouldn't realize that's what you would want."
"I guess I was just hoping," she replied tearfully. "But I gave that up when you never came, and I became completely driven and focused on my career. And it obviously worked."
"Obviously. Yeah. Congrats, by the way. Saw you kiss some dude at the awards. What are you doing here, with me, if you have somebody back in Glitter Gulch."
"Glitter Gulch?"
"It's a nickname around here for Hollywood. Sorry, no offense."
"None taken, I suppose," Rachel said carefully. "But to answer your question, his name is Anthony and he's a friend my agent set me up with to date to help both of our images. It's a business arrangement. Not a romantic thing." Then Rachel eyed him pointedly. "What about Christina? You two seem very close. Are you dating her?"
"C'mon, Berry, you know I don't really date women," he said suggestively, the hint of his former self showing clearly. Then he spoke seriously, "You're the only one I've ever dated. But to answer your question, we are very close. She's my best friend. She picked up the pieces after you broke them."
Rachel sat back, stung. "I was broken too, you know?" she said quietly.
"Are you blaming me? You left me, remember? I loved you and you left me. You don't get to make me feel bad for you." Puck fumed.
"That's not what I'm trying to do!" Rachel shot back, her own temper starting to flare under the assault of Puck's words. "Don't you see that?!" Then she closed her eyes and counted to five. "I'm sorry. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go."
"Well, by all means," Puck said sarcastically. "Let's hear what your plan was for this conversation, since Rachel Berry is all about planning every little thing." Puck regretted his acid tone, but he couldn't help it. These were feelings he hadn't been able to work through for years.
And now the object of his affection and affliction was sitting in front of him.
Rachel chose to disregard the bitterness in his comment as she began her speech about her realization. "When I won the Academy Award for Best Actress, it was as if I could feel all of my childhood dreams were coming true. They could all really come true. That's an amazing feeling, Noah. But it wasn't perfect like it was supposed to feel. I realized that I had been too quick to dismiss the idea of us, Noah. The idea that we could have worked on our relationship while I pursued my dreams. I thought I had to choose. I thought my dreams were dying in Ohio. I thought I would grow to resent you if I stayed there and let them die so that you and I could live. You weren't ready to come with me to New York; and I thought if I didn't leave then, I never would. But you're right; I should have waited to talk to you more instead of abandoning you like I did. I just knew I wouldn't have done it if I had seen your face and let you talk me out of it like you always did. But what I did was so unfair to you. And I'm so sorry, so sorry that I made the wrong choice and realized it too late." Rachel wiped at the tears in her eyes and continued.
"When I heard your song, I realized I had to find you. To tell you that I'm sorry. To find out if I really am too late. Do you think you could find it in your heart to forgive me? Do you think we could try to work things out? Am I really too late?" Rachel knew she was rambling, so she decided to pause for breath and actually give Noah a chance to respond.
When Rachel was quiet for more than two seconds, Puck realized it was his turn to talk. But he didn't really know what to say. "I don't have the answers you're looking for, Rachel," he said, sounding defeated. "I just don't know…"
"You don't know right now?" Rachel asked. "But you could take some time and figure it out?" she continued hopefully.
"Yeah, I don't know right now," Puck ran his hand over his scalp and rubbed his face. "I'm tired, Rachel. I'm so tired of a lot of things. But mostly, I'm exhausted from the show and I have another showcase tomorrow. Why don't you come back tomorrow? That will at least give me a night to process this whole thing."
"That sounds very reasonable. Yes, I will come back for your showcase tomorrow and we can try for another discussion then." Rachel tried to reason with herself that she had expected too much if she really thought that she'd come sweeping in here from Hollywood and Noah would immediately profess his undying love for her and they'd go home (to her home in New York) and live happily ever after. This was real life. Not a movie. "Thank you for agreeing to see me after what I did," she said softly as she reached out to touch his hand. He pulled his hand away from her as though her touch burned his skin.
Discouraged, Rachel stood to leave the table and he stood too because he's a gentleman. She couldn't help it—she felt the urge to kiss his cheek.
It took some courage on her part after his reaction to the touch of her hand, but she did it. He stood paralyzed while she just barely brushed her lips on the side of his face and ghosted her hands to his shoulders for a fraction of a second.
Rachel turned away and was out the door quickly so he wouldn't see her tears.
It wouldn't have mattered because his vision was blurred with tears of his own. Puck swore to himself, paid the tab, and called Chris to pick him up. He hoped she hadn't fallen asleep. He didn't want to take the bus or a cab home, but he supposed either way the wait and the drive home would give him much-needed time to think.
What the hell was he gonna do now?
...
A.N. I happen to live and work in Nashville, TN, as a few of you know. Please visit my profile if you're interested in how you can help the real Nashville and victims of the recent flooding there by donating to the Red Cross.