Jesse set his luggage down in the foyer in his LA home that was admittedly too big for a single teenager. But, as his publicist and manager had pointed out to him on multiple occasions, as a celebrity he was entitled to a crazy large mansion with an indoor pool and tennis courts out back. He was ready to just climb up the stairs to his insanely comfortable king-sized bed and take a nap. He should have known that taking a nap would be too easy.

He groaned when the phone rang and he ran to find the nearest one. When the caller ID read 'Gate' he was tempted not to answer. Who would possibly be visiting him now? His parents weren't coming over until tomorrow, his manager had agreed to give him two days off, and he knew he didn't have any other plans established. Shaking his head, he answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey man," the voice came through the line, "I heard you got home today. I must say I'm extremely disappointed you didn't call your best friend and invite him over."

"Silly me," Jesse said sarcastically. "I must have forgotten."

"That's what I figured. Anyways, let down the bridge. We've got some major catching up to do."

"Fine," Jesse said shortly and hung up. He went to the remote stationed next to his front door and hit the button that opened the gate at the front of his lawn. He walked into the kitchen to grab two Cokes, and headed back to the living room to see that his company had already made themselves at home on his couch.

"St. James," the boy said casually.

"Puckerman," Jesse smirked. "Or should I say Puckzilla?"

"Don't mock me," Puck growled and caught the Coke can Jesse tossed to him.

"Hey," Jesse smiled innocently, "I'm only calling you what you referred to yourself as in Rolling Stone last week. Risky move, if I do say so myself. I thought it was a mutual celebrity decision to leave all nickname creations to Perez Hilton."

"That is exactly why you're not worthy of any nickname other than St. Jackass. Puckzilla doesn't let anyone decide things for him. Puckzilla makes his own rules. Puckzilla-"

"-needs to stop referring to himself in third person. You're starting to sound like a three-year-old. And Puckzilla? Really? That's lamer than a Justin Beiber album."

"Don't mention that disgrace to music in my presence. As a three time Grammy Award winner I find saying his name a form of blasphemy."

"His fame will be short lived," Jesse said certainly. "Poor kid, he doesn't even know what it means to know the ins and outs of Hollywood."

"Normally this is where I would point out that your probably only jealous because he bumped you back to number two on the 'Hollywood's Hottest Hair List.' But since I share a mutual disdain for him I'll let it slide."

"And I would usually throw in that you're only saying that because your jealous because the only hair you have is that landing strip you call a mohawk."

"The chicks dig the mohawk."

"Nobody has dug the mohawk since the briefly lived techno-faze sometime in the eighties, much less chicks."

"Speaking of chicks," Puck grinned mischievously, "who was that girl you took to the Tonys? You're picture was in People I didn't read the article-"

"Because Puckzilla doesn't do reading."

"Damn straight. But, seriously, who was she?"

"A girl I met in New York," Jesse answered vaguely.

"Right," Puck scoffed. "Like you would take a random girl from New York to the Tonys."

"She's not random. I got to know her while I was there. She's really cool, nice, funny, and she's real. I don't get much real in my life out here. Trust me, when you get to spend time with someone normal it slowly becomes an addiction."

"So the fact that she's totally hot had nothing to do with your 'friendship'?"

"Watch it, Puck."

"What? You two are just friends! It shouldn't bother you if I think that she's the kind of girl I'd like to-"

"Finish that sentence and I'll kill you."

"Alright, alright," Puck laughed slightly. "What are you, her father?"

"No," Jesse frowned. "Rachel's... different. She's someone I'd like to keep in my life, so that means I'll need to keep her as far away from you as possible."

"I get your point. New York girl is yours. No need to keep her away from me, in fact, if she means that much to you I need to meet her. If she's going to be intruding on our bro-time I need to make sure she's worthy."

"When has she ever intruded on our 'bro-time?'" Jesse asked.

"Ronnie told me you were spending yesterday and the day before in Lima, Ohio. You hate Ohio. I can only imagine you were there to visit a certain brunette."

"Remind me to get a new manager."

"So, you've got to tell me more about this chick. She's got a banging body, she's nice, and she's real. Those are all great qualities, but I know you. There's got to be something else there."

"She's a killer singer," Jesse revealed. "Amazing. Just as good as, if not better than, Barbara Streisand and Idina Menzel."

"Ah," Puck said as if he suddenly understood. "Now it makes sense."

"What do you mean?" Jesse inquired.

"You're drawn to talent by nature," Puck laughed. "Face it, you only do movies with the best directors, you only work with some of the best actors, you only consider the best scripts, your best friend is the attractive lead singer and guitar man for the hottest rock band around, and now your new girl is a singing protege."

"Oh come on," Jesse scoffed. "That's not why I'm friends with Rachel."

"But you can't say it's not a contributing factor," Puck countered. "Face it, you're attracted to the extraordinary. But enough of this girl talk, Kings of Leon's having a party tonight before they go off on tour. You in?"

"Yeah," Jesse said distractedly. He suddenly had a lot on his mind.

By Wednesday Jesse had managed to convince himself that what Puck had said was all just to mess with his mind, something that Puck loved to do. And even if some of what Puck had said was right, it's not like it was wrong to like that Rachel had a talent? So what if her more intriguing because she could sing? There was nothing wrong with that. His whole career revolved around people who were attracted to his talent, so why should his life be any different?

When Rachel's name popped up on his cell phone screen later he was quick to answer.

"Hey," he said into his iPhone.

"Sorry to call so late," Rachel apologized.

"It's cool," Jesse replied. "You forget that it's only seven here."

"Right," Rachel laughed. "I always forget the time change."

"Evident by when you called me at eight in the morning your time Monday."

"I was just trying to make sure that you made it home okay."

"Sure you were," Jesse laughed. "I think you got a secret pleasure out of waking me up at five."

"Be that as it may, I didn't call you to banter about time zones."

"Really? I figured this was the whole reason you called."

"Shut it, St. James. So today I was doing my homework when I man came to my door with a very big package."

"I'm not sure that I want to know where this story is going," Jesse said jokingly.

"You are such a boy! Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm trying to get onto you for sending me a piano!"

"Please, you love that I sent you a piano. I bet you've already bought a lesson book."

"I have not!" Rachel protested indignantly though it sounded weak even to her.

"That's what I thought," Jesse smirked. "Anyways, no need to thank me. Like I said in the letter, just think of it as an investment in your future. As payment, in a few years when your the hottest star on Broadway I'll get to say that I was the one that gave you and taught you how to play your first piano."

"You're so infuriating!"

"I've RSVP-ed you 'Yes' for the premiere of Zac Efron's new movie tonight," Ronnie said in his usual fast speak. Jesse walked into the foyer where his voice was coming from to see his middle-aged, but still somewhat good-looking agent standing there in his usual black suit.

"Nice to see you too. My flight? It was great," Jesse said sarcastically. "Would I like to go to Zac's premiere tonight? Honestly, no. I think his acting is severely lacking. Will I go anyway? Sure." Jesse rubbed the sleep from his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

"I've missed your sarcasm about as much as I've missed seeing you wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt in the morning," Ronnie quipped. Jesse looked down at his current attire and shrugged.

"I wore it just for you."

"Enough of the banter. This is not an episode of Gilmore Girls."

"Whatever you say, Ace," Jesse smiled. Ronnie threw him a scowl and Jesse smiled wider. Nothing better than aggravating your manager in the morning. "Sorry, that was the last one. I swear. So, Zac premiere tonight, no more banter. Anything else?"

"Table reads start on Monday. We need to send in dressing room preferences, foods that you want on kept on set, preferred clothing brands, etcetera."

"We can take care of that later, right?" Jesse asked.

"Just email them to me by tonight. And I assume you'll need three onset passes. Two for your parents, one for Noah."

"Actually," Jesse corrected. "I'll be needing four."

I hope everyone enjoyed Chapter 5!

And yes... I made Puck the lead singer in a famous rock band that has yet to be named... So if you have any suggestions feel free to leave them in a review!

Basically, I was thinking... Hmmm... Who would make a good friend for Jesse?

The first person that came to mind was John Gallagher Jr! But, alas, he's rocking it out in New York...

And then I was like... PUCK! :) I love Puck...

Reviews?