"You can try to fight me on it, but we both know that my awesomeness level is higher than your's will ever be. So, I win. Now come on."
"Noah," Rachel said, "you're level of arrogance and self-assured star power astounds me."
"Does she always talk like that?" Puck asked. He could already feel a migraine coming on. He directed his question at Jesse, who simply shrugged.
"Like what?" Jesse's body language gave off an honest feel of confusion; but Puck, after being Jesse's best friend for the majority of his life, knew better than to trust innocence from an actor. He made a mental note to breech the subject again when they were alone.
"Right," Puck said. "Well, you'll have to get used to it, Berry."
They had begun walking again, and Rachel found herself in the middle of Puck and Jesse with the latter's arm draped over her shoulder.
"We're not going to a bar, are we? Because the stress that the loud atmosphere would put on my vocal chords could cause-"
"Rachel," Jesse laughed and he heard Puck snigger, "We're eighteen. We couldn't get into a bar if we wanted to."
Rachel just lifted an eyebrow and gave Jesse a knowing look.
"Okay," he ceded. "I could probably get us into a bar, but I also promised your dads that there would be zero illegal activity while you were here."
"Gee, Jessica, I hope Rachel's parents don't find out we just j-walked!"
"Shove it, Noah."
"Not until you grow your balls, Alexander."
"Alexander?" Rachel slipped her question into the argument.
"It's my first name," Jesse explained. "Jesse's my middle name."
"Does anybody go by their real names around here?"
Jesse and Puck glanced at each other and shrugged before responding in unison, "No."
Rachel had remained oblivious to any stares while they were out on the street, but once they had entered a secluded area it felt as though all eyes were on her. Or on her company, rather.
"Mr. Puckerman and Mr. St. James," the hostess greeted with a warm smile. "We're so happy to have you join us again today. We can have your usual table ready in the back."
Rachel watched as Puck stole a quick glance at the name tag pinned on the girl's jacket. "Thank you, Hannah." Puck gave her a quick wink before heading further into the restaurant.
Jesse rolled his eyes at his friend's antics and then turned to Rachel.
"I would say after you, but I don't think you know where we're going."
"In that case," Rachel smiled. "After you."
Jesse laughed and held out his arm for Rachel to slip hers through. Jesse lead her to a table in the extreme back of the restaurant that had enough chairs and room for eight.
"We usually have some of the band with us," Jesse said answered her unspoken question. "And we prefer the back because it protects from some of the stares."
"I wonder if they ever let anyone else sit here," Rachel mused as she took the seat Jesse pulled out for her.
"Pshhh," Puck smirked. "Nobody sits at Puckzilla's table except for him and his company."
"So," Jesse said, ignoring his friend's statement, "Is this not-bar enough for you?"
Rachel looked around at the flawless décor and obvious class of the location and smiled.
"It'll do."
Jesse and Puck guided Rachel through her menu, pointing out their personal favorites and suggestions while keeping in mind Rachel's vegan status. When the waitress came around to take their order they had all settled on their individual meals, and as they sat eating their food Puck began to speak.
"Rachel, has Jesse taken you to the studio yet?"
"She hasn't even been here a whole day, Puck."
"The studio?" Rachel asked.
"I told you I was shooting a new movie. We started actual filming last week, so I thought I'd take you by the set and show you the ropes. You can check out a thrilling day of table reading, place marking, and scene shooting. Who knows? You might have to put my shared knowledge to use one day," Jesse said in way of explanation.
"Sometime soon, even," Puck threw in, and Rachel noticed a gleam of smugness seep through his gaze.
"I just thought it might be something you would be interested in," Jesse interjected quickly. "You don't have to go, but I have enough passes. I was thinking-"
"You're kidding, right?" Rachel laughed. "I would love to go! Just think of all the amazing learning opportunities I could-"
"Right," Puck interrupted. "Well, I'm so glad that the two of you are happy, but onto more serious matters." He glanced at his company across the table before continuing, "I'm thinking of shaving my mohawk."
"And once again," Jesse remarked as he held the door of his home open for Rachel, "I would like to stress the sincere apology of having to dine with Puck today."
"And I would like to stress that I meant it when I said I didn't mind. Sure, Noah's a bit... different, but I respect his talent and that translates to a respect for his company."
"So you weren't ready to smack him when he went on for ten minutes about the pros and cons of keeping the mohawk? Because I'm pretty sure I saw you twitch when he started comparing statics of how many guys actually manage to get laid with one verses without one."
"While his crude and somewhat insulting outlook on his fluid sexuality would normally come off as a disrespectful outburst much more appropriate for 'locker room talk' or some other vague form of 'bro time' where you all sit around and discuss whatever enters the male mind on those occasions, I found it-"
"Extremely annoying and totally inappropriate?"
"Ceded."
"Well," Jesse said, and a wicked grin lit up his face, "fortunately for you, I am about to make your day a whole lot more interesting."
"More interesting than lunch with a hormonal, mohawk-conflicted rockstar?" Rachel inquired with faux wonderment.
"I know," Jesse said seriously, going along with the charade. "It's going to be hard to beat, but I have yet to show you my special room."
"Special room?" Rachel remarked with a giggle. "Sounds ominous."
Jesse shrugged, "The title is a work-in-progress. The important thing is how amazing this room is, and how stoked you're going to be when I reveal it to you. Which, mind you, would come a lot faster if you didn't insist on taking every chance you can to mock me."
"It also would have come sooner if you weren't spending all this time trying to build up suspense."
"Touche."
"Lawyered."
"Fine," Jesse sighed dramatically. "Follow me."
He lead her up the stairs he had used that morning to show her her room, but instead of turning left he took a right. They passed two doors that Jesse didn't bother to explain, so Rachel assumed they were guest rooms before he settled in front of the second door on the right.
"This," he clarified, "is my room." And with a dramatic flair that only an actor could pull of without looking ridiculous, he pushed the door open.
His room was decorated much like the rest of the house. His large – probably king sized – bed was backed up to the far wall that was made entirely out of a glass window giving a far view of the Pacific Coast, and it was decorated with deep shades of navy and gray. The floors were hardwood, but the hardness was set off by a blue, grey, and black plaid rug; and an expansive bookshelf to the side filled with old books and movies with titles that Rachel had never heard of. An extremely large plasma screen filled the majority of one of the remaining walls and the other held various black and white copies of photos of Jesse with different celebrities at different events.
"Wow," Rachel said. "This is really cool."
"Wait, you thought this was my special room?" Jesse laughed.
"It's not?"
"Of course not. Rachel, this is where I sleep. I'm going to show you were I live."
And with that he walked over to a door Rachel had assumed lead to a closet, but when he opened it was anything but.
He grabbed her by the hand and tugged her through the threshold into what was without a doubt his "special room."
The dark walls were made up of floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with CDs, music books, and album covers from basically every band to walk the planet. And the middle of the room held what was sure to be the most extravagant, sleek, and beautiful grand piano Rachel had ever seen. It's freshly dusted ivory keys stood in sharp contrast to the deep, rich black that made the rest of the instrument, and it's perfect state was proven evidence of the importance to which Jesse held this particular item in his household.
"Who knew that Jesse St. James was such an audiophile?" Rachel mused. She moved towards the piano and sat lightly on the bench placed in front of it.
"Now you do," Jesse said as he took a place beside her and played a small – yet enticingly musical – sequence on the keys. "I will admit though, that I didn't bring you in here to reveal a deeper part of my soul."
"There's always a catch with you, isn't there?"
"Only the majority of the time," Jesse brushed off. "But, you've brought this one upon yourself."
"How so?" Rachel asked.
"Part of the terms of receiving that piano was that you had to play for me the next time we saw each other."
"Jesse, I-"
"Nope, don't wanna hear it. Excuses and self-pity are for the weak and untalented. You, Rachel Berry, are none of the above. So, unless you want to further prolong the inevitable, I suggest you get to playing."
Chapter 8? Check!
I know... Why are my updates taking so long?
Senior year is something to behold...
My life has consisted of college applications, mandatory social gatherings, dance, and various activities that have kept me from presenting this installment of my story to you fine people...
And, on top of that, my original Chapter 8 was completely different than this and I was going to post it like 3 days ago, but then I realized that I didn't like it, so I completely re-wrote it!
Trust me... this one is much better.
I, rogan4evur, promise to get out Chapter 9 with a faster pace than that of which the one before it came.
So it is written... So it shall be.
Anywayssss... Thoughts?