Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the lyrics to Rolling in the Deep.

Chapter Two

Think of me in the depths of your despair…

Setting fire to Puck's locker was fun, Kurt had to admit, but once he and Santana had found sanctuary behind the bleachers his fun soured and he immediately regretted behaving so childishly. He even considered turning himself in; that is, until he saw Puck that afternoon in Glee Club.

Puck stalked in, fuming, violently rolling Artie out of his way and scaring even Mr. Schue. He swore angrily, rubbing his mohawk and gritting his teeth anxiously. No one had to ask why. The entire school knew Puck's locker had been set ablaze; what they didn't know was who was responsible for it. Blame shifted from Jacob Ben Israel and the other nerds, their reason being payback for all Puck's past bullying, to the jocks, whom some said still weren't over Puck getting together with Kurt, to even Puck himself, people saying he'd lit it intentionally to restore his badass reputation.

Puck sat agitatedly in Glee Club waiting for Mr. Schue to start the lesson, Kurt contemplating whether or not to come clean to his ex, when in strode Quinn. Just her presence seemed to calm Puck, and when she sat down next to him, softly stroking his hand and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, he relaxed completely and a dopey smile stretched across his face, making everyone wonder what kind of spell the blonde girl had on him. Everyone except Kurt, whose thoughts of confessing his pyromania to Puck were dashed once he saw Quinn's effect on him. In an instant he no longer wanted to apologize to Puck; instead he wanted to see everything he loved turn to dust.

All the girls except Santana seemed oblivious to Kurt's anger. Instead they treated him as a fragile object, something that might crack if taken too close to the burning heat of Puck. They formed a protective circle around him when they practiced their choreography, Tina and Mercedes doing their best to occupy his thoughts and cheer him up while Brittany, Santana, Rachel and Lauren did their best to block Puck and Quinn from his view. He knew what they were doing and he was grateful, but it didn't stop him from stealing glimpses at the nauseatingly happy couple, each glance a small reminder of what they used to have together.

When Glee Club ended Kurt turned down the girls' repeated offers to go to the mall or movies or one of their houses, wanting nothing more than to go home and curl up in a ball in his bed, never to face the world again. He'd barely gotten himself situated in his car when a clawed hand sprung from his back seat and grabbed him by the throat, making him scream. Hearing laughter he turned around and realized what he'd mistaken for claws were actually nails, and the hand belonged to none other than Santana.

"What in the holy name of Karl Lagerfeld are you doing in my car!" Kurt screamed breathlessly, his heart still racing from fright. "You scared me half to death!"

"Oh, you gays are always so easily frightened," Santana said nonchalantly, climbing from the back over the middle console and settling herself in the passenger seat. "So, where we going?"

"I'm going home," Kurt said. "And unless you want someone to pick you up from my house you're getting out of my car."

"Geez, Hummel, lighten up, will you?" Santana said fiddling with his iPod, looking for a song that wasn't from a Broadway musical or sung by Lady Gaga. Deciding it'd be best to play her own music, she took out her own iPod and plugged it in, letting Alanis Morisette fill the car as she spoke. "I mean where are we going on our next stop for 'Operation Revenge on the Puckerman'?"

"That's not a real thing," Kurt said irritated. "And I'm not doing that anymore. I already feel bad enough for setting fire to his locker. I can't fathom doing something else, especially if it might cause him more harm."

"You're just feeling guilty," Santana said casually. "Everyone feels that after their first bad deed. Give it some time and it'll pass."

"I don't want to hurt Noa - Puck anymore," Kurt said, forgetting to call him by his nickname as his proper name hurt too much to utter.

"Yes you do," Santana said, not even bothering to look up from where she was filing her nails.

"No, I don't," Kurt assured her.

"Yes, you do," she said again, holding her hand out to examine her nail length. "I saw how happy you were when you saw how mad he was. And then when Quinn came in I could practically feel you murdering her and him with your eyes. You want to make him pay. Maybe not like with a baseball bat to the knee, but you want him to feel the same way you feel. You want him to hurt," she said with a smile.

"I…" Kurt couldn't even finish his sentence. Truth was, he was still angry. Burning Puck's locker did take some of his hurt away, but there was still plenty more to spread around. And this first vengeful thing was like a gateway drug; it made it easier for Kurt to agree with Santana now when she suggested more payback for Puck.

"Shh," Santana said comfortingly, seeing the vengeful look cross Kurt's face. She knew the hate boiling inside him was ready to spill over, and all she had to do was direct that hate towards something that could be used constructively against Puck; or in their case, destructively. "It's alright. You don't even have to say it. Just drive."

"Where?" Kurt asked breathlessly.

"I think you know where," Santana said, leaning back and mentally patting herself on the back for dragging Kurt to the dark side.

The scars of your love remind me of us…

Letting himself into Puck's house was a little unnerving. He knew where the spare key was hidden, and he didn't sense anyone was home, but he still found himself tip-toeing across the hardwood floors of Puck's home. He'd let himself in countless times before, sometimes to surprise Puck by stripping down so he met a nude Kurt when he came home, and other times because Puck was running late somewhere and told him to just wait inside. But now, entering without the knowledge of either Puck or his mother made Kurt feel all the more guilty.

"I can't do this," Kurt said, turning around and heading to the front door. "This is breaking and entering and I just cannot go to jail. Those hideous orange jumpsuits would clash with my pale skin tone. I'll look like I have jaundice or something." Santana grabbed him by the arm and spun him back around.

"We're already in," Santana hissed, pushing him forward. They climbed the stairs, Santana prodding him forward with sharp pokes to his back. They didn't know when Puck or his mother or sister could come home, and despite ignoring his worrying Santana had to admit Kurt was right, they did not want to get caught breaking into someone else's house.

Once they reached Puck's room they spread out, looking for anything they could use as ammo against the mohawked boy. Kurt's careful eyes scanned the mess, looking through piles of discarded clothes, clean and dirty alike tossed together, searching for anything to aid them in his quest for vengeance. He sighed. They'd been going out for nearly six months and it didn't matter how many times Kurt tidied up after his boyfriend, his room always reverted to its seemingly innate messiness.

Shifting though another pile of clothes consisting of Puck's dirty sports uniforms and workout clothes proved fruitless to Kurt. He got up and crossed the room to the closet, rummaging around in there before his eyes caught something. Deep in the back, underneath some of Puck's old leather jackets and textbooks he'd never returned was a box. Opening it Kurt found a few items that he and Puck had used in bed: a spiked collar, a few dildos, butt plugs of differing sizes, a couple vibrators and cock rings, and something that Kurt forgot had existed. He smirked to himself, feeling as if he'd won the lottery now that he had something that could cause Puck great damage. Picking it up and putting it into his pocket Kurt wondered if using it would be taking things too far with Puck. Realizing Puck had taken things too far by dumping him, Kurt threw the momentary thought of compassion aside. Wondering if Santana found anything he turned to find her counting a small wad of bills she'd collected off of Puck's desk. Feeling Kurt's judgmental eyes on her she turned to him.

"What?" she asked rudely. "First arson, then breaking and entering, is it really so difficult to believe that I would make the leap to theft?"

"Put it back," Kurt commanded.

"But – ," Santana began.

"Now," he hissed.

"Fine," she said, stuffing the money back into a drawer of Puck's desk. Just as she slammed the drawer shut they both heard the front door slam, followed by the unmistakable sound of shoes stomping along the floor. Kurt whimpered in fright. Holding her finger up to silence Kurt, she strained her ears listening for the sound of approaching footsteps. Hearing the TV turn on they both sighed in relief, ready to climb out the window and run down to Kurt's car. Just as they were heading to the window sill, however, they heard footsteps climbing up the stairs. Panicking, knowing it was too late to escape, the pair fell to their stomachs, pulling themselves under Puck's bed, squeezing together as tightly as possible in the hope that no one would see them.

Hearing the light step of shoes on the floor Kurt figured it was probably Quinn, meaning Puck must be downstairs looking for something to eat before he eventually came upstairs to join Quinn and…Kurt didn't even want to think about the dirty things they'd be doing on the bed where he'd lost his virginity.

The footsteps faded and they heard the gentle hum of the bathroom vent turn on. Figuring the coast was clear for their escape Santana rolled out from under the bed. Looking up she signaled Kurt to get up, too. As she was helping him up from the floor she dropped his hand, staring at the doorway. Kurt picked himself up and looked to where Santana was staring.

In the doorway was Puck's nine year old sister, Hannah, staring at them in wonder as they emerged from under Puck's bed before excitedly realizing who they were. Before she could scream in happiness Santana jumped over the bed and pulled her into the room, covering her mouth just as she yelled out Kurt's name in greeting. Closing the door she gently told Hannah to calm down.

Removing her hand Santana allowed Hannah to talk. "Eww, Tana, your hand tastes like dust," Hannah said, sticking her tongue out and wiping it on her sleeve.

"Sorry, kid. We thought you were your brother," Santana said, wiping her dusty hands on Puck's bed sheets. "He's not with you is he?"

"No, Noah didn't pick me up and Mom's pissed," Hannah said, her language evidence of her brother's bad influence on her. "Hi, Kurt!" Hannah said, launching herself toward the countertenor in a hug.

"Hey, sweetie," Kurt said, hugging her back. Now that he and Puck were no longer together he figured he would see less of Hannah, which was a shame as the two had become very attached to each other during these past few months. It hadn't dawned on him until now that breaking up with Puck meant breaking up with everything Puck-related, including his family.

"Are you here to surprise Noah like last time?" Hannah asked, referring to the time Kurt broke in to prepare dinner for Puck on their four month anniversary. "I can help you cook. Mom taught me how to make kugel and only some of it burnt!"

"No, no Hannie," Kurt said, kneeling so that he was eye level with the little girl. "Actually me and Santana were just here to look for something in Noah's room."

"Can I help you find it?" she asked, determined to help. "I got a magnifying glass and some gloves so we don't have to touch any of Noah's smelly clothes."

"No, sweetie, that's okay, we found it," Kurt said, ignoring Santana's questioning looks. He'd explain it to her later. "Now, I want you to listen to me," he said seriously. "I don't want you to let anyone know we were here."

"No one?" she asked. "Not even Noah?"

"Especially Noah," Kurt said, holding her around the waist so she would stop fidgeting. She was uncomfortable lying to her brother, and having Kurt be the one to make her promise to lie to him made her feel all the more conflicted. "Can you do that for me?"

"Why?" Hannah asked, avoiding Kurt's gaze and instead toying with the buttons on his jacket.

"Well, Noah and I - ," he began, prepared to go into full detail about their messy breakup.

"Oh, Christ," Santana huffed. "Look, Hanns, here's a ten. Now you didn't see either me or Kurt here, did you?" Hannah accepted the bribe and shook her head 'No'. "Good girl," Santana said, petting her on the head. Seeing Kurt's glare she shrugged, "You just have to know how to deal with kids."

Hearing someone, probably Puck's mom, climbing the stairs, Kurt placed a quick kiss on Hannah's cheek before following Santana out the window. Just as he climbed out he heard the door to Puck's room squeak open. Clutching the trellis attached to the side of the house he listened through the open window as Miriam Puckerman interrogated her daughter.

"Hannah, who were you talking to?" she asked.

"No one," Hannah said innocently.

"I thought I heard voices. Are you sure there's no one up here with you?" Miriam asked again.

"No," Hannah said with what Kurt knew was a signature Puckerman smile.

"Okay," Miriam said, seemingly satisfied with her daughter's answers. "Go do your homework. And stop playing in your brother's room," she scolded.

"Okay," he heard her say before she ran downstairs to do the opposite of what her mother said and watch cartoons. She really was Puck's sister.

"Psst," Santana called out to him from the ground. "Get down," she whispered as loudly as she could.

Maneuvering his way down to Santana's side effortlessly, as this was not his first time climbing down the side of Puck's house, he ran with her to his car, which they'd parked out of sight further down the street.

Pulling from his pocket what he'd retrieved from Puck's sex box Santana asked, "Eww. What do you plan on doing with that?"

"Let's just say that by tomorrow everyone will have seen a side of Puck they never knew existed," Kurt said with an evil grin.

"What a coincidence," she said with a smirk. "You took something, and I left something."

"What?" Kurt asked surprised, though he shouldn't have been because it was just like Santana to go rogue. "What did you do?"

"You'll see," she said with a chuckle.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one getting revenge," Kurt said with a smile as he drove away from Puck's house.

"You are," Santana reassured him. "For you, this is personal. For me, it's just fucking fun," she laughed, rolling her window down and letting the wind whip her hair around joyously.

You're gonna wish you never had met me…

The loud beeping of his alarm awoke Kurt the next morning. Without even opening his eyes he rolled over to shut it off when his body collided with a much thicker, longer body, snoring and taking up more than half the bed. Wrenching his eye open he was met with the sight of his stepbrother sleeping next to him, the blaring alarm not bothering him in the least. Kurt stretched over Finn to turn the alarm off, carefully avoiding a suspicious looking tent that was pitched between the tall boy's legs. In the past Kurt would have giddily accepted Finn sleeping next to him, and may have even peeked under the sheet to spy on his morning wood, but living together and being constantly referred to as 'brothers' killed any feelings Kurt harbored for Finn. Now Kurt just saw him as his annoying older brother who was too overprotective, needed constant supervision when their parents weren't around, and needed way too much help on his homework.

"Finn," Kurt said, shaking the other boy awake. Though it'd been nearly four days since Puck broke up with him, and Burt said he didn't have to anymore, Finn still took upon himself to sleep with Kurt for fear the countertenor might harm himself. In times like this Kurt really regretted making Finn watch Prayers for Bobby with him.

"Finn," Kurt said again when the snoring teen refused to wake. "Finn, Rachel's making pancakes," Kurt whispered into his ear. Finn sprung up, his eyes still closed, holding his hands out and asking his invisible waitress for more syrup. Kurt sat up and hit him over the head with a pillow, sending Finn back lying down.

"I told you never to joke about breakfast," Finn said, the pillow muffling his words.

"Get up," Kurt said, removing the pillow from his brother's face. "And I told you to stop sleeping with me."

"What if something happened to you?" Finn said, worriedly. "It'd really freak me out if you…hurt yourself, and I weren't there to stop you." Kurt did the best to smooth his messy bed hair before rolling his eyes at his brother's anxiety.

"First of all, I told you never to speak to me in the morning until you've brushed your teeth and rinsed twice with Listerine," Kurt warned. "Secondly, I'm fine. Puck and I broke up. It happens. I'm learning to get over it."

"With Santana's help?" Finn asked. "Where did you guys go after Glee Club yesterday anyway?"

"Nowhere," Kurt said hurriedly. He was lying to cover their tracks. In truth, after Puck's house he and Santana went on another supply run, first to the supermarket and then again to the hardware store and a quick stop at his dad's shop after he was sure his father had gone home already.

"I don't believe you. It's weird seeing you two together. It makes me really specious," Finn declared.

"Suspicious," Kurt corrected.

"Yeah, that," Finn said.

"Don't worry about it, Finn. Santana's just helping me get through this. She's been really great, actually," Kurt said, amazed at the words coming from his mouth.

"The only thing Santana's great at is hurting people," Finn said off-handedly. Seeing Kurt's eyes widen, realizing he'd hit upon something, Finn gasped. "Did you two have anything to do with Puck's locker being set on fire yesterday?"

"No!" Kurt exclaimed. His readiness to feign innocence wasn't lost on Finn.

"You did!" Finn nearly screamed. "You two set his locker on fire!" he said loudly in excitement, rising from the bed in his righteousness.

"Shut up, you oaf," Kurt said, pulling Finn back down and clamping his hand over his mouth. "If Santana and I had anything to do with Puck's indoor barbecue, and I'm not saying we did, but if we did, you wouldn't be able to say anything about it." Seeing Finn's confused expression Kurt continued, "Because if you say anything I'm going to tell Rachel that you don't have to go to Canada next month and you'd be happy to join her in the community theater's production of You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown."

"You wouldn't," Finn said once Kurt removed his hand from his mouth.

"Try me, Hudson," Kurt said with the utmost seriousness.

"Fine," Finn agreed. "I wasn't going to tell anyone anyway. I was just going to say that having Santana help you get over Puck is really stupid, and that's saying a lot coming from me."

Kurt mulled over Finn's advice before deciding to ignore it. "Santana is helping me get over the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with, barring my mother's untimely demise. And I feel better whenever we talk."

"Dude, you can talk to me," Finn pouted.

"Dude," Kurt said patronizingly, "unless I'm talking about boobs or food or video games you completely tune me out."

"What was that?" Finn asked. Kurt smacked him again with a pillow.

"I was kidding," came Finn's muffled voice from under the pillow. Picking it off of himself he said, "And I get this is hard for you, but do you really have to go around ruining Puck's life?"

"You remember how mad you were when you found out Quinn's baby wasn't yours and Puck was the father and they'd both been lying to you all along?" Kurt asked.

"That was different," Finn said, shucking off Kurt's comparison. Seeing the death glare Kurt was sending him made him rethink his position. "I mean, yeah, it was equally douchey of him, but with me, they were cheating. They had sex. With you, it was just a few lousy kisses. And at least he had the balls to tell you, not like parading it around behind your back so everyone knew but you."

"I don't care if it was just a few kisses and if he told me instead of lying. He broke my heart!" Kurt said, tears stinging his eyes. "He deserves whatever's coming to him."

Pulling him down into a crushing hug Finn sighed as Kurt cried softly into his chest, dampening his shirt considerably with his tears. Getting up, wiping his eyes, and hitting Finn for making him cry so early in the morning, Kurt thanked his brother before leaving for the restroom.

"Just promise me Puck will be alive when you're through with him," Finn called out to Kurt. "Not that I care about him or anything, but we need him for Regionals."

"I promise nothing," Kurt said, shutting the door to the bathroom.

Tears are gonna fall…

Noah Puckerman was not having a good morning.

First, his sister woke him up by jumping on his bed; something he wasn't unaccustomed to, but the brat interrupted a particularly hot dream involving him and that hot chick who used to be the lead singer for the Pussycat Dolls. Not only that, but he overslept and didn't have enough time to deal with his aching boner in the shower, rushing through his morning routine and dropping his sister off at school before finally arriving at McKinley High.

He'd barely gotten out of his truck when he got a mysterious phone call on his cell from an unknown number. Answering it he was greeted by a gruff voice, asking if he was the guy from the ad. Not knowing what he was talking about, the guy clarified that there was an ad in Craigslist for a casual encounter and this was the number posted. Saying he got the wrong number Puck hung up the phone, sauntering into school.

Well, he tried to saunter. Normally he would've strutted into school like he owned the place, but there was this weird itching feeling in his crotch. It had been bothering him all morning, and he'd chalked it up to not getting to release the contents of his overly-blue balls, but it was itching way too much and couldn't just be because he didn't cum. He tried scratching at it as walked, casually rubbing his bulge in case someone was looking, but it did nothing to relieve the itch. In fact, not getting to scratch at it only made it itch worse. He scratched at it through his jeans, but when that didn't abate the annoying tingling he stuck his whole hand down his pants in the middle of the hallway, scratching angrily as students stopped to stare.

"The fuck you all looking at?" he screamed, his hand still buried in his pants.

"What's going on here?" came the demanding voice of Sue Sylvester. "Future trailer trash, what do you think you're doing?"

Puck couldn't reply, focusing instead on the itch that would not go away.

"Take your sexual depravity back to the choir room where it belongs," Sue sneered at him. "And the rest of you Play-Doh lumps, get to class before I string you all up by your thumbs and install chastity devices on your microscopic genitalia so none of you can procreate and infect the world with your loser offspring!" she screamed to the crowd of students watching Puck. "And don't think I won't alert Figgins to your disgusting act of debauchery," she said threateningly.

The crowd dispersed, Sue shooing them away with more threats. Puck cursed silently to himself; the last thing he needed was a trip to the principal's office so soon after being released from juvie. Not looking forward to another meeting with Figgins and hoping Mr. Schue could bail him out again, Puck ran into the nearest bathroom in an attempt to quell the itching.

"You didn't give him crabs, did you?" Kurt asked Santana. The two had made it a point to arrive early to school, each wanting front row seats to the day that would probably leave Puck a shell of his former self.

"No," Santana said, a little offended Kurt would think she would have access to a venereal disease at the drop of a hat like that. "It's itching powder."

"Itching powder?" Kurt asked. "Is that what you 'left' at his house yesterday."

"Yup, all over the inside of his jeans. It's my own special recipe, too. Extra cayenne pepper," she said deviously. "Unless he's bathing in milk in there that shit's going to stay on him all day."

"You're evil," Kurt said with a grin. The two gave each other a quick high five before separating and moving on to Phase 2 of 'Operation Revenge on the Puckerman'.

Rolling in the deep…

"Fuck!" Puck screamed at the top of his lungs. The word echoed around the bathroom, scaring a few freshmen out of the stalls. In his haste to relieve the burning itch Puck had thrown water on his crotch. It had eased the annoying prickling for a few minutes, but it came back and now he'd made it look as if he'd pissed himself. He grabbed a handful of paper towels to try and dry his pants but the dark blue stain stood out in his denim jeans.

Swearing some more, Puck stalked off to the boy's locker room, eager to rid himself of his pants. Along the way a few students saw him in his ruined jeans, most of them snickering at the once bullying teen's current predicament. Puck took it all in stride, his jaw clenched tightly to their laughs, until Jacob Ben Israel came along with another AV geek and videotaped him walking down the halls. After a few minutes Jacob hastily uploaded the video to his blog and before Puck even got to the locker room the nickname "Triple P" (for 'Puck's pee pants') had already begun to reach his ears.

Ripping open the door to his locker he reached inside, hoping to find an extra pair of sweat pants or maybe miraculously a new pair of jeans. Instead what he withdrew from his locker made him cringe in disgust. Tights. Ballet tights, probably, but dude, they were still tights. He rummaged around inside, trying to find the extra sweats he just knew had to be in there somewhere, but no, there was nothing but the tights. He looked at them warily before throwing them on the floor.

While he was wondering what the fuck was going on with this day so far his phone rang. Seeing it was another unknown number he answered it. Once again the caller was a man, only this one was more soft-spoken and timid when he addressed Puck.

"Is this the Puck from the ad?" the man asked.

"What ad?" Puck asked curiously, his patience wearing thin due to the morning's events.

"The ad on Craigslist, you know." Here the man's voice became deeper and more serious at the words he was saying. "The cumwhore who loves to suck and ride cock bareback? Only four dollars an hour?" he said, jittery with excitement.

"The fuck?" Puck screamed into the phone. Not even bothering to dignify the man with a response Puck hung up, resisting the urge to punch a locker in his rage. He had his suspicions that someone was fucking with him, what with his locker being set on fire yesterday, but Quinn convinced him it was nothing, just a random prank. But the tights in his locker and now these weird ass phone calls? No, someone was definitely messing with him.

His mind clouded with possibilities. There were way too many people who would love a chance to get back at him. Ignoring all possible leads for now, he rushed around the locker room, looking for anything else to wear besides the dreaded tights. Every other locker was locked, and he tried opening one of them but without tools it was a hopeless job. In his desperation he even considered wearing dirty gym clothes, no matter how foul smelling, but when he got to the laundry cart in the corner he found it empty, no clothing in sight.

At this point he had two options: go outside with his ruined pants, everyone pointing and laughing at him, or change into the tights and go outside in them, everyone still pointing and laughing at him. Seeing no way out of it, he figured he could throw his pants in the dryer in the back of the locker room and wear the tights while they dried. It's not like he'd go far across campus in them. He'd just be headed down the hall to meet Quinn. She'd already told him to meet her after class and he knew better than to piss her off. Besides, he was the Puckster. He could pull off wearing tights and make it look so badass that by tomorrow everyone would be wearing tights, too.

To say he overestimated his badassness would be an understatement.

Jacob Ben Israel was waiting outside the locker room, camera man in tow, when Puck emerged in his tights. Jacob took one look at the tall teen and announced to the camera, "Ladies and gentlemen, you saw it here first. Noah Puckerman is not only unable to control his bladder, he's also unable to control his love for women's clothing. Is this the first step to his transition from male to female?"

"What?" Puck screamed after hearing Jacob's false headline. "Dude, that's not even true."

"So Puck, when did you decide to become a woman?" Jacob asked, shoving his microphone in Puck's face.

"I'm not a tranny, you twerp," Puck said, shoving Jacob away. "These are just ballet tights because my pants got wet."

"With your own urine, we know," Jacob said. "Was it your dating of Kurt Hummel that led you to realize you were unhappy as a man?"

"I already told you, Ben Israel, I'm bi not transsexual," Puck said exasperated. "Now get out of my face, I'm gonna be late. And don't think I won't get you back in Hebrew school," Puck threatened as he walked away, the camera catching the way the tights clung to his ass and thighs almost femininely.

He had barely gone a few steps when he received yet another phone call from another unknown number. Answering it, not even waiting for the person on the other end to begin talking he screamed into the phone, "Whoever the fuck this is, leave me alone! I'm not a fucking prostitute looking for a good time, you sick fuck!"

The camera panned back to Jacob, who had a joyous look on his face as he realized the views he could get once this hit the internet. "There you have it, ladies and gentlemen," Jacob announced into the camera, "Noah Puckerman now 50% male, 50% female, and 100% gay."

Quinn gasped as she saw the live feed from Jacob's camera broadcasting into her Home Ec classroom. All the school TVs had caught Jacob's surprise interview of Puck, and since the teachers figured it would give them a few minutes without having to actually teach their no good students, they let the broadcast play. Kurt and Santana, who were also in the class with Quinn, sniggered into their oven mitts, each resisting the urge to laugh out loud as Noah Puckerman's life and reputation unraveled around him.

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!