Thomas Raj 'Call-me-Tom-please'' Zheng has always prided himself as a person who marches to the beat of his own drum. He thinks it's the whole Chinese-Indian thing that's a major contributing factor, mostly because both his parents are first generation immigrants with the accents to boot. Which in all honesty, made up for very interesting, if slightly mortifying, growing pains, After spending his childhood and most of his teenage years trying to fit in with the 'American' way of life, he finally decided that screw it, he was proud of his background and heck yeah, he was going to flaunt it like nobody's business.
He thinks it's the morning rituals that did it. He had been taking it slowly with his last roomate, starting with the tiny trinkets on his desk and slowly working up to Bollywood's greatest hits blaring through the speakers of his radio. The guy had been cool at first, even if he had been a little weirded out. But the moment the incense came out, yeah that was apparently the last straw. Hank the R.A. had politely called him in during the last days of his first year to tactfully tell him that his roomate had 'health issues' and that he was going to have to change rooms. Really, was it his fault if he tried to bring a little culture into these people's lives?
When he saw the giant of a man that was to be his new roomate, well he was more than a little apprehensive. Finn Hudson looked like the type of guy that would have given him a wedgie in high school. He didn't look like the type of guy that would be open to new and exciting cultural experiences. Tom's seen him before of course. They were in the same Decision Science class the previous semester, and Finn was the guy who sat at the back, his face perpetually stuck at either confusion or boredom. Not that Tom could blame him for that. Decision Science was a bitch and Goldman was so freaking ancient, he'd expected the professor to drop dead right in the middle of lecture every single class. The only reason he even made it through was because of his natural brilliance and that really hot tutor he hired.
"Hey," Tom greeted from the doorway with an armful of boxes. Finn looked up from the photograph he was holding, dropping it like it was hot potato or something, and stared at him in confusion for a few seconds before his face cleared.
"Oh hey. You're Thomas Raj, um. Zang?" the boy asked, as he picked up a post-it to read from.
"Zheng. And call me Tom. Please."
"Cool." Finn stood up and walked over to him, taking the first two boxes from his arms and setting them on the empty desk. "I'm Finn."
"Yeah I know who you are. You were in Decision Sience right?" The dark cloud that passed over Finn's face freaked him a little.
"Oh you were in that class?" he asked morosely. Tom nodded. "How'd you do?"
"B+. Goldman's strict as shit. You?" Finn groaned as he sat at the edge of the desk.
"Taking it again this semester."
"Geez. With Goldman? That man needs to retire and just put us out of our misery."
"Nope. New guy. Johnson?"
"Oh. Never heard of him. But uh, good luck anyway."
"Thanks," his new roomate answered wryly. This wasn't so bad. Finn seemed like a cool dude. Maybe this could actually work. He set the remaining box down on the desk.
"Need any help moving in?" Finn asked.
"I could use some help," Tom answered gratefully.
And so his first day with his new roomate was spent helping him get settled in the new room. Finn was cool. And he was popular with the ladies from what Tom could see. Chicks kept calling his name and waving at him all flirty and giggly. But the big lug didn't seem to notice. He'd just nod or wave back and then turn to Tom and ask him about the rest of his schedule.
That was his first inkling that his new roomate was just a little bit strange.
As always, Tom let his colorful personality show by degrees. The first week in, he'd just casually mention now and then how tradition was way important in his family. Finn had nodded his head and told him that was cool. His family weren't exactly all that traditional, he'd said.
The second week, the little trinkets came out. It started with the fat little Buddha on his desk. When his roomate didn't even blink an eye, he brought out Lord Shiva. Finn did a double take with that one when he came back from the bathroom the next morning.
"That is one badass statue," he remarked as he dried his hair with a towel.
"This is Lord Shiva, the destroyer," Tom had answered proudly.
"Huh."
After a month of living together, Tom started to notice that his roomate was just a tiny bit antisocial. Which was weird, considering the amount of people that knew him and all. He was continuously turning down invitations to parties or social gigs. Girls were practically throwing themselves in his path but the guy was either really, really dense or he was just pretending to not notice. Instead what he'd do was sit on his desk almost every single night with a text book popped open and a scary, determined look on his face.
Tom didn't understand the guy. At all. Cause one night out with Finn Hudson had him talking to more girls than the last year and a half of college. And they weren't just chicks. They were hot chicks. So he was definitely disappointed when the boy kept turning down all the invites that he could have totally crashed with. Because apparently hanging out with Finn Hudson made you cool by association.
It was one night, two months in, when it happened. He'd been lying on his bed, minding his own business with the soundtrack of Slumdog Millionaire blaring through his headphones, when he'd looked up to see his roomate staring intently at him. Tom stared back for a few seconds, thinking that he'd look away. But when all Finn did was look at him all intense and thoughtful, yeah it was creepy.
"What?" he'd asked, a little nervously.
"You're smart, right?" Finn asked as he straightened up in his chair and leaned forward.
"First class honors buddy," he answered proudly, because his banker dad and teacher mom had brains and that was his inheritance right there. Finn looked really happy about that.
"Awesome. So um, I'm totally lost in Decision Science. I just don't get this shit."
"So?" he asked. His roommate looked at him sheepishly as he ran one hand over his head.
"So like, do you tutor?" Huh. It surprised him to realize that his roomate was all studious and hardworking. Tom figured Finn Hudson was one of those frat boys who partied all night and had the college experience he could only dream of, but so far all the guy did was stay in and poured over his textbooks. Tom had never tutored before. He looked at Finn thoughtfully.
"I'd totally pay you," the boy offered awkwardly, grining hopefully at him. And that was when the flash of brilliance came.
"I'll do it."
"Awesome!"
"But you need to help me."
"With what dude?" Finn asked, a confused and somewhat wary look on his face.
"With elevating my cool status," he said nonchalantly. Finn stared at him blankly.
"You're cool," he said. Tom stared at him like he'd just grown another head. Was this guy serious?
"In case you haven't noticed, girls aren't exactly knocking down our door looking for me," he said pointedly. "In the whole time I've been here, the only girls I've talked with was my hot tutor and those exchange chicks from India. Not that there's anything wrong with them, other than the fact that they're all back in India...- Anyway. I'm sure you can kinda see my problem now?"
"You want me to school you on how to pick up girls?" his roommate asked doubtfully. Tom nodded eagerly.
"I don't know man," Finn answered, "I'm not good with that kind of stuff."
"Please," Tom said witheringly as he rolled his eyes. "Chicks flock at you like you're the freaking magnet or something." When the big guy blushed like a tomato, he wondered how such an awkward dude even managed that much pull.
"I just talk to them man. They kind of like it when you listen you know."
"Yeah well then teach me how to listen." Finn was still looking a little apprehensive and Tom tried to maintain that look of indifference on his face, to pretend like it was all or nothing. But the truth was he would've helped the guy out even if he refused. The dude just had that I'm-a-helpless-giant thing going for him. Not helping him would probably make Tom feel like he ran over a kitten or whatever. Huh. Maybe that's the pull. So Tom was really grateful when his roomate's expression changed from hesitance to a huge smile as he held up his hand for a fist bump.
"Deal."
So hauling Finn Hudson off his drunken ass on that first night out was not what he had expected.
"Dog Tags? They're like the biggest band around this area. How'd you know these guys?" Tom asked when Finn told him the frontman wanted to hang out. They had a gig at a pub near the college that night. He wasn't into all that College Emo music to be honest so he's never actually heard them. But according to that girl in his International Finance class, they were supposedly 'hotness overload'. Finn Hudson just shrugged as he leaned against the headboard of his bed.
"I fill in for the drummer once in a while. The dude has 'discipline problems'," he said, complete with the air quotes.
"I didn't know you were into Emo." Finn snorted as he threw his little football into the air and caught it.
"I just play man. The music's not my deal. I'm more old school rock than brooding intellectuals."
"Yeah. I can see that. So we're putting the plan into action right?" Tom asked, a little excited. Finn nodded. " me what I gotta do."
"Just chill," Finn said.
"How do I do that?"
"I don't know. You see a girl you like, and make eye cotact or something. If she doesn't look at you like you're some stalker, than you talk to her. Ask her what she likes or whatever."
"Do I talk about myself?"
"Sure. Just not too much. And you might wanna hold back on that whole oriental values thing."
"But that's what makes me who I am!" he argued, appalled at having to hold himself back.
"I know man, and that's awesome," Finn said placatingly. "But you don't want to put her off. I think girls kind of like to talk about themselves first before they want to know about you. So you gotta play it cool."
"You're really good at this" Tom commented.
"Had a lot of practice."
"I thought you said you're not good at picking up girls."
"Yeah, my girl- ex girlfriend liked to talk. So I learned to listen."
"Oh. She go here?" Tom asked curiously. The dude didn't really talk about his personal life a lot.
"Nope," was all he said and Tom knew that conversation was over.
It began kind of okay. Yeah, he pretty much just stood there like an idiot while Finn had to fan off all the chicks that flocked to him. But then the guy started to introduce him to them instead, so that was kind of awesome. He took Finn's advice seriously and totally listened and by the end of the night, had a few girls dropping their numbers because he was a 'great listener'. He didn't notice that his roomate had been sitting off in a dark corner the whole time throwing back his drinks like there was no tomorrow.
Until the dude suddenly stalked over towards the empty stage and grabbed the mic. Tom was busy talking to this really cute, really interested Asian girl, so when he first heard the warbling, he thought it was just a poor sucker who had too much to drink. He turned around and then realized that the poor sucker was his roommate. Finn Hudson was swaying on the stage, mic in hand. And he was singing Nazareth's Love Hurts. Okay, it was actually more slurring than anything else. And when the guy almost broke his ear drums screeching "Love hurrrts!" at the top of his lungs, Tom knew the night was done for. He'd smile apologetically at Amy, the pretty Asian, and got up to pull his friend off the stage before he made a bigger fool of himself. Vaguely he had thought that Finn Hudson probably wasn't all that bad of a singer, if he wasn't so intoxicated.
It was a twenty minute walk to the pub sober. Walking back to the dorms took forty minutes because trying to pull a drunk Finn Hudson along was like trying to to pull a dead cow. He grunted as the giant leaned all of his weight against him. He's Asian-sized, alright? He was so not built for lugging around freakishly tall drunks.
"Dude," Tom muttered under his breath. "Can't you walk at all?"
"I can walk," Finn slurred. "I learned to walk when I was one and a half," he continued, putting up two fingers and shoving it in Tom's face. Tom slapped his fingers away and rolled his eyes.
"Congratulations," he muttered. "You were a child prodigy."
"I can walk!" Finn crowed as he stumbled on a crack in the pavement. "Oops." The dude giggled. Like seriously, giggled like a little girl as he took his arm off Tom's shoulders and tried to walk in a straight line. Sighing witheringly, Tom followed from behind.
"Did you get a chick Tommy?' Finn asked as he turned to look at him. Yeah. Walking backwards when you're drunk. That's a good idea.
"I would've if you didn't get so freaking wasted."
"Whasser name?" Finn hiccuped.
"Amy."
"Is it Rachel?" he continued, ignoring Tom's response. "You gotta be careful with Rachels man. Rachels are dangerous- whoa," He tripped on his feet and Tom winced as his head barely missed the lamp post. Finn fell on his ass and cursed in pain. And then just sat there on the curb with his feet splayed out. Dear God. This was going to be a long night.
"What was I saying?" he slurred. "Oh yeah. Rachels. Don't go there man. Don't even- No. And if she's got a fruit in her name?" Finn shook his head furiously from side to side as Tom crouched down next to him and pulled at his arm. "Toxic. They'll eat you alive and you're a goner. Dead. Poof."
"Uh-huh. Dude! Get the fuck up man!" Tom yelled in exasperation when Finn just wouldn't budge.
"Sorry," Finn mumbled and struggled to stand. It took another two minutes to get him upright. Putting his arm around his roomate once again, they continued walking. "No Rachels. You hear me man?"
"Yeah yeah I hear you," Tom mumbled, cursing the wind for his bad luck.
"I'm serious! No Rachels man. They'll kill you And Rachels with fruits in their names-"
"Are toxic. Got it. Now shut the hell up so I can concentrate on getting us both home before the freaking sun rises."
"Kay." Rachel with a fruit in her name, Tom thought wryly. What a heartbreaker.
Finn woke up the next day with the worst hangover known to man and absolutely no recollection of last night's events. Tom refrained from mentioning it to him because he figured Rachel with a fruit in her name was probably a sore subject.
Amy the Asian called him two days later and Finn Hudson was a Godsend.
For his first tutoring gig, he should have been awarded a medal for patience. Finn Hudson was by turns the most annoying person on earth to teach and the best student in the world. He wasn't kidding when he said he didn't get this shit. He really didn't. Tom honestly thought that he was going to burst a blood vessel from trying to refrain his screams of frustration.
But when he got it. Oh man when he got it. No lie, Tom felt like a proud papa. Like in the future, when he gets a kid and teaches him how to ride a bike without the training wheels, and the kid nails it, he knows he's going to feel the same way he felt when Finn Hudson's face lit up with pure understanding at 2 a.m. on a Saturday night.
Tom figured out the problem about a month in. It wasn't that the dude was dumb, he just had a hard time focusing. And by hard, he meant that if you left Finn Hudson alone with the textbook for five minutes to use the toilet, you came back to find his head slumped on the open pages, snoring his heart out. So it was during the week before mid terms that he did a little experiment and bought an extra cup of espresso on his way to another study session in their room. Finn was already in front of his desk, the textbook o pened to page sixty four. Tom snorted when he groaned and banged his head against the book.
"Here," he said, setting the cup down in front of his roommate. Finn peered into the little hole of the lid and blanched.
"Gross! Dude get that thing the hell away from me!"
"What are you? Twelve?" Tom asked scornfully. "Drink up."
"No way. Coffee tastes like tar."
"I'm your tutor and I am telling you to drink that thing."
"No," Finn answered obstinately, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Do you wanna pass this stupid class or not?"
"What does-"
"Do you?"
"Duh."
"Okay. So I'm doing a little experiment here. See your problem Finn, is that you lack focus. And you fall asleep at the drop of a hat when you study, which is kind of funny when you think about it. Cause you don't even sleep all that much any other time. I mean I wake up in the middle of the night and you're watching some movie on your lap top or-"
"So I lack focus. What the hell does coffee have to d with it?"
"What's so bad about coffee?"
"It tastes like shit."
"I think it's going to help you focus. And I think when you're focused, you're gonna get it. C'mon it's not that bad," Tom said in encouragement when the big guy frowned at him doubtfully. Finn heaved a huge sigh and Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Pinching his nose, he took a sip and choked.
"Dude! That is bitter shit!"
"Oh for the love of- Here," Tom said as he threw a bottle of sugar at his roommate. "Go crazy."
When he said go crazy he didn't think it would mean five spoonfuls of sugar in one tiny cup of coffee. It took a while, but Finn got used to the coffee and Tom's likelihood to go into cardiac arrest steadily decreased. Finn was a surprisingly fast learner once he got through the basics and Tom took full credit when he passed his mid term with a respectable B.
It was after two months of living together when Tom had came back early from his weekend home to find Finn Hudson asleep on his bed with the sounds of Barbra Streisand crooning off his lap top. He knew it was Barbra the second he opened his door because it was his mom's firm belief that there were only two female singers in this world worth listening to, and that was Barbra Streisand and Lata Mangeshkar. The guy was jolted awake by the slam of his door and scrambled to snap his lap top shut in an instant.
"So Funny Girl, huh?" Tom asked nonchalantly as he dropped onto his bed, the curry his mom had packed for his 'sweet, little roommate' in one hand. Finn looked at him sheepishly as he grabbed the back of his neck.
"You know it?"
"My mom is like the president of her fan club or something."
"Oh."
"Uh huh."
The next day, his Bollywood tunes came out of the woodwork in full force. Finn didn't bat an eyelash.
The second time he ever heard of Rachel with a fruit in her name was the second time he saw Finn Hudson drunk. Coming back from his date with Amy the Asian, now Amy the girlfriend, Tom returned to an empty room. Which was a little weird in itself since Finn Hudson was a homebody and people had generally stopped asking him to hang out by that time. But he did go out every now and again. Just the week before, he had stood in as the drummer for Dog Tags when their drummer had once again succumbed to his coke-head ways. So he didn't really think all that much of it.
By two a.m. though, just as he was about to go to sleep, his celllphone rang and he frowned when he saw Finn's name lighting up his screen.
"Yo," he greeted. "Where are you?"
"Hey man." Tom frowned at the unfamiliar voice and sat up from his bed. "Hudson's kinda plastered as shit right now and uh, we sort of need to be somewhere else."
"Who is this?" Tom asked, inwardly groaning. Not again. "And where are you?"
"It's Matt from Dog Tags? Yeah we're at Todd's. You know the bar over by the-"
"Yeah, yeah I know," Tom grumbled. "I'll be there in twenty."
So that was how, at three in the fucking morning, did he found himself dragging the body of a boy twice his weight up from the stool he was slumped over. At least Finn had brought his car this time around. Tom slapped the back of his roommate's head as he rummaged through the pockets of his jackets to find the keys.
"Hey Tommy," Finn slurred, smiling that stupid, dumb smile of his when he realized his roommate's presence. "What're you doing here?"
"Saving your drunken ass," Tom muttered as he wrapped his fingers around the keys.
"Oh," Finn answered, nodding his head dumbly. "You're a superhero. Super Tom!"
"God you're so fucking drunk," Tom answered, shaking his head as Finn tried to stand and imitate a superhero's pose. "How much did you have to drink man?" Finn frowned, his brows furrowed in concentration.
"Uh.. Nine," he mumbled as he held up four fingers. "No ten! Wait that's not right," he mumbled in confusion as he leaned his body against his friend's.
"Forget about it. C'mon, try walking. One step at a time, that's it. C'mon- aww Geez! Watch where you're going man," he hissed when Finn walked into the stool at the end of the bar.
"I didn't see that coming," Finn mumbled. "Why are all the furniture moving?"
"Cause you're in a freaking musical," Tom answered sarcastically, nodding at the bartender in thanks when the man held the door open for them.
"Know what's a musical?" Finn slurred, his head lolled to the side. "West Side Story."
"Is it now?"
"Uh huh." Finn folded himself into the passenger seat as Tom slammed the door shut, eternally grateful they didn't have to walk home, even if the car was a piece of junk. When he got into the driver's seat, Finn was quiet as he leaned his head against the window, his breath fogging up the glass. Tom pulled out of the parking space and they drove in silence for almost five minutes.
"She said I was Tony."
"What?"
"She's Maria, you know," Finn said, ignoring his question. "She's Maria all along. I was supposed to be Tony." Tom nodded his head, pretending to listen. Finn Hudson's tendency to overshare when he's drunk was just a little disconcerting. It was the total opposite of who he was sober, where he was always guarded with his feelings. It kind of felt like an invasion of privacy to be honest, to witness him when he's drunk.
"But now there's another Tony," Finn continued quietly as he leaned back against his seat. "And he's gonna be the one in the front row. Not me." It was quiet in the car as Tom tried to think of something to say. Just how drunk was Finn anyway? He looked sideways and found his friend with his eyes closed, his arms folded across his chest.
"Who's Maria?" Tom asked nonchalantly.
"What do you mean who's Maria?" Finn asked incredulously. Tom rolled his eyes.
"I mean, who's Maria?"
"Rachel man," Finn mumbled, eyes still closed. "Rachel's Maria."
"Rachel with the fruit in her name?"
"What?"
"Nothing. So this Rachel chick's the reason you're completely totaled huh?"
"Correct-o," Finn said as he nodded his head vigorously. "You're really smart, you know?"
"I know. So what's the occasion?" he asked as they reached home. Tom killed the engine and turned to look at his friend. Finn was staring at him in confusion. Tom figured that when he's eighty or something, and if his college roommate ever crosses his mind, that expression right there, would be the one plastered on Finn's face in his head.
"Huh?"
"What were you celebrating? You know, what were you drinking to?" he asked, miming Finn throwing back a shot with his hand.
"Oohhhh," Finn slurred in understanding. "Her birthday man. Her birthday's like, her favorite day ever. Oh no wait," Finn said, frowning. "Maybe that's Barbra's birthday. No, no, no. Defintely her birthday."
"Huh."
Operation Get Finn Over Rachel With the Fruit in Her Name commenced exactly two days after that drunken incident when Tom related the issue to Amy the girlfriend. She had shook her head sympathetically the whole time, the occasional sigh and a "Poor Finn", scattered here and there throughout the whole conversation. Finn had woken up the day after and asked him if the whole awkward talk had actually happened, and apparently his silence was enough of an answer because the guy had buried his face in his pillow and groaned loudly. Tom figured since Finn knew that he knew already, than it was totally okay for Amy the girlfriend to know. He did not count on her clasping her hands together excitedly and coming up with a Project Fix Finn.
"I don't know Ames," he said, voice full of doubt. He was a big believer in not butting in, but then again they've only been together a few months. What if he says no and she thinks he think her idea's stupid? Not that he didn't, but, well. Finn warned him that sometimes in relationships, you need to do something you don't really like to keep the girl happy. Was this sometimes?
"Isn't this kind of personal?" he asked tacfully. The girl in front of him shook her head vigorously.
"Our friend is in need Tom. Sometimes a person just needs a push in the right direction because he himself is stuck. That's where friends like us come in. You told me yourself he has been hung up on this girl ever since you've known him. It's time to move on, don't you think?" She capped off her little speech with a huge, encouraging smile and how could he say no to that? She was the psych major after all. She would know better than him anyway.
So that first week had him acting all kinds of weird in front of his friend. It got to the point where Finn actually stopped him during a study session to ask what was wrong.
"Nothing!" he had exclaimed nervously.
"You're acting kinda funny. I mean, you practically begged me to go to that club last night and then all you did was stand around looking bored."
"Yeah but you had fun right? I mean those two girls last night, were they hot or what? And that tiny little blonde chick was all over you on that dance floor."
"I guess," Finn answered, still looking at him funny.
Damn it, this guy was hard to please. Two whole weeks of dragging the guy all over the hot spots in the city was all for nothing. Finn looked like he had fun and he sure flirted right back with all those girls,but he was still the one to call it a night every time and Tom saw all those numbers go into the trash can the minute they got home. There was that one night where the dude had blinded him with his massive make out session with Mary Beth Stevenson, but he was pretty sure Finn was half-drunk at the time and he shot out of his seat like a boomerang when they were done. Tom was starting to feel... icky. It was weird okay, trying to push his friend into a lifestyle of depravity, especially since he was practically the last guy on earth who knew the first thing about it.
"Let's hang out tonight," he said on Thursday evening. It was going to be his last attempt. He told the girlfriend this firmly when she suggested it. Amy had just rolled her eyes and pecked him on the lips. Finn looked up from his notes and shook his head.
"I got a quiz tomorrow man."
"C'mon. Live a little. It's just one quiz. It's like what? Two percent of your grade?" he tried to wheedle. Finn scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Says the man who almost cried when Waldon refused to give him full marks."
"Hey! Those marks were well deserved. My paper was flawless and that old geezer has a stick the size of a totem pole up his ass."
"It was like, two marks, freak," Finn remarked, raising his eyebrows. "It didn't even round up as one percent."
"Whatever," he muttered. "C'mon man, Amy's dragging me to one of her 'social gatherings' and you know I'm bad at those. I need someone to talk to when I'm there."
That was when Finn gave him the look. Uh oh. He was totally on to Operation Get Finn Over Rachel With the Fruit in Her Name. His friend just stared at him intently for a few secomds before he sighed.
"Look man," he said slowly. "I know what you're trying to do. And I appreciate it and all, but I'm fine." Crap. He knew. He probably knew all along. There was a giant, giant elephant in the room that was sucking out all the air from Tom's lungs. He knew they shouldn't have butted in!
"Sorry man" he apologized after maybe five minutes of silence where Finn had apparently went back to his notes. Finn looked up and grinned, a little warily, shrugging his shoulders.
"No harm done."
No more, he told the girlfriend that night. Project Fix Finn was officially canned. So three days later, when Finn casually mentioned in passing that he had a date with Mary Beth Stevenson, he'd automatically glared at the tiny Asian girl because he was convinced it was all her doing. But her surprised expression told him otherwise. Finn had burst out laughing at the looks on their faces and told them that he didn't need help finding a date, thank you very much.
The days leading up to Finn's date night, Amy kept bugging him incessantly about it. How was Finn doing, she wanted to now. Was he excited? Because Mary Beth Stevenson was excited. Was he nervous? Don't be, cause Mary Beth Stevenson was practically in love with him already. Dear God, that little Asian chick was nosy. When he told her that maybe she should just mind her own business, yeah, she gave him the silent treatment for three whole days. Women.
He had to admit, he was sort of curious too, but he wasn't going to go and pry anymore. Because he was a man. And men just don't do that. So he hovered a little on the night itself, so what? His buddy was reentering the dating world for the first time in years and he was just a concerned roommate. He was a little worried to be honest. Cause Finn didn't actually seem all that interested in the girl. Unless you counted sticking his tongue down her throat for thirty minutes interested, which most people probably did. That Mary Beth Stevenson was really something though. She had that tight little body with those curves all in the right places. He never said anything cause the girlfriend would probably hang him by the balls, but if he was single and had even a sliver of a chance, he would definitely tap that.
It was hard trying to keep all that excitement to himself. And Amy was still giving him the cold shoulder. So when Finn's cell went off that night while he was watching Jet Li totally kicking some dude's ass, the excitement just got to him. He ended up totally oversharing with that random girl on the other line, which he realized, after she totally hung up on him, was probably not a good idea. She probably thought he was a weirdo. But Finn didn't even have her name in his phonebook, so she couldn't be that important, right?
When it was two in the morning and Finn didn't come home, Tom did a little, manly, dance. His man Finn was getting some action that night, he was sure of it. He knew it was probably just a little creepy for him to care so much, but Finn was a good friend. Who else would put up with the burning incense in the mornings and the boisterous hindi music (and occasionally Cantopop cause that shit was the bomb) in the evenings?
Finn Hudson came home the next morning humming under his breath in yesterday's clothes, and Tom just couldn't resist the fist bump. His friend had rolled his eyes but obliged it with a laugh. The girlfriend ended the cold war that afternoon to tell him that no, Finn wasn't getting laid last night because Mary Beth Stevenson had banged against her door at eleven and announced red in the face, that Finn Hudson was the weirdest boy she ever met. Things were getting hot and heavy, Mary Beth Stevenson told Amy, when suddenly Finn had pushed her off him and practically ran out the door, apologising profusely. She'd proceeded to bitterly question the boy's sexuality and called him a sexophobic freak. To which the girlfriend had calmly replied with sexophobe not being a word and that just because Finn wasn't as sexually promiscuous as some people did not make him a freak.
Which was when Tom realized he was in love with the girlfriend. Like, love love.
But all of it begs the question, what the hell was Finn Hudson doing that night? Damn the girlfriend and her meddlesome personality rubbing off on him. When he had nonchalantly brought it up one night three days later, Finn had snorted and chucked the toy football at his head saying that he was wondering when Tom was going to bring it up.
"So where'd you go?" he asked once they've established that yes, he was a nosy little man and it was all Amy's fault. Finn shrugged.
"I just walked."
"All night?" Tom asked incredulously.
"Well, I went to Todd's for a while, thought about drinking myself into oblivion. But then I thought better." Thank God, Tom thought, because with Finn's phone in the room, who was going to be carrying his drunken ass back home?
"So I just walked. Cleared my head, did a little thinking. Life-changing stuff, you know," Finn continued sarcastically.
"You and this Rachel chick-"
"It's like that movie we watched."
"What movie?"
"That hindi movie. You know, with the guy and the girl falling in love and getting torn apart?" The boy looked so earnest, he didn't have the heart to tell him that ninety nine percent of hindi movies were about a guy and a girl falling in love and getting torn apart.
"Yeah."
"Well they weren't together but that didn't mean they didn't still love each other. You know? I mean, it's kinda different. Rachel's not crippled and I'm not some reformed playboy or whatever, and I don't know what she's feeling these days. I can guess, but I don't know..." Finn trailed off and sighed and Tom figured this was as close to opening up as this guy was going to get.
"Anyway, they just... they just love each other. And why should you move on from that anyway? I don't want to stop loving her. I can't but even if I could, I don't want to. And it's not like I'm depressed or anything. I screwed up and it's my fault it's this way, but we move on right?" He looked up, as if looking for confirmation.
"Yep," Tom answered, because what else was there to say? Finn nodded and continued.
"We just live. And I think I'm doing that pretty well. Okay, so there are some nights where I just wanna get wasted and wallow in misery, but I'm living my life and she's living hers and maybe someday when we're both better people, we'd find a way, like that crippled chick and that really emo guy. Right now there are things I can do better, because I'm going to be someone someday, I know that now. And she's got those dreams she needs to make come true and- Well. You know," he finished, shrugging his shoulders and smiling helplessly.
Tom thought it was kind of bizarrely interesting to have a roommate living his life straight out of a plot from a Bollywood movie.
He stopped being so worried the next time time Finn was wasted because he figured all that bottling things up inside needed some sort of outlet, right? And it wasn't like the guy was addicted or anything. It was once a month, sometimes two. And Drunk Finn was hilarious as hell, especially since he had specifically divided himself into all these personalities one night. There was Drunk Finn, who was usually the one talking. And he was usually pissed at Stupid Finn, whom he claimed had single-handedly ruined their lives ever since he was born. And then there was Just Finn, cause he was just Finn. Sometimes there was whom Tom had personally dubbed as Pathetic Finn, when he'd go on and on all night about Rachel this and Rachel that.
"Rachel what?" Tom had asked once, snorting as Finn downed another shot. He was feeling pretty buzzed himself that night, which he knew was not good. But they would be walking back anyway. The worst that would happen was that they'd both pass out and wake up to and find themselves in the middle of the road or something.
"What what?" Finn slurred, laying his head down on the countertop.
"Rachel with the fruit in her name. What's the fruit anyway?"
"Berry."
"Rachel Berry?"
"Berries smells like Rachel," Finn mumbled. "But Rachel smells like flowers, like a lot of flowers," he stressed, bugging his eyes out at the word flowers. "Like a fucking garden man." Tom couldn't hold back the snort and laughed hysterically, falling off his stool in the process.
But Tom figured the best drunk Finn of all was probably Show Finn. Show Finn only came out when the dude was extra, extra wasted. Show Finn was a freaking hoot because he would sing anything. Literally anything. He knew because he'd asked Show Finn to sing the theme song to Happy Days once as they made their ritual trek back home, and the boy had hobbled off into the middle of the road and slurred the lyrics out at the top of his lungs, complete with awkward dance moves and all.
When his roommate received a package in the mail that contained a homemade DVD and some sort of booklet, Tom witnessed firsthand the power Rachel Berry had over Finn Hudson. Admittedly, the girl was pretty impressive. He did not expect that voice to come out of that tiny body, and West Side Story was almost as epic as his favorite Bollywood movie, 'Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge' (the hero was where he got his middle name from, after all), except that it was way more depressing.
But Finn, man Tom didn't think he even blinked once throughout the whole thing. It was like she had him under some sort of spell or something. And he had this look on his face the whole time, total and utter pride wouldn't do the expression justice. The poor guy really was screwed for life.
He decided to grow a beard over the holidays and Finn did a double take when he came back. He then proceeded to laugh his ass off until he was blue in the face. Tom reciprocated by throwing his pillow smack dab in the middle of said face, which had shut him up for five seconds, before he broke into another peal of laughter as he rolled on his bed and clutched his sides.
Him and the girlfriend decided to join the new Zen community on campus, where a lot of the guys had beards just like his. He tried to cajole Finn into joining, but the dude only made it to the first meeting. And he totally fell asleep halfway through. In his second semester of living with Finn Hudson, Tom learned the art of meditation and was one step closer to his long lost Buddhist roots. Finn told him he was nuts, but the guy's form of therapy was to drink himself stupid once a month, so what did he know?
It was really cool to realize that their study sessions have turned into actual discussions as opposed to just him showing Finn how to work a problem. Tom signed himself up as a tutor at the Student Enhancement Unit because he realized that he was a kick-ass teacher, if Finn was anything to go by.
When Finn found out that he was graduating with second class honors and told him, Tom and the girlfriend decided to throw a little shindig to celebrate. By then the three of them were practically a small clique of their own, and Amy had, by some miracle, managed to book Todd's for the night (He had a feeling Gary, the owner, was probably feeling a little nostalgic at the thought of losing one of his best customers).
He should have guessed that it was going to lead to another epic drunk episode.
When Show Finn had strode on to the stage with a mic in hand and began belting out Separate Ways, he knew it was time for the party to be over. So he pretty much pushed everyone out the door to Finn Hudson's rendition of Journey and turned to share a knowing look with Gary over the counter. Tom and Amy waited patiently until the song was over before propping each of Finn's arm over their respective shoulders, the girlfriend giggling the whole walk to the car as Finn hummed Somebody to Love under his drunken breath. She loved Show Finn even more than he did.
Unfortunately, Show Finn didn't last all that long because for the next two extremely long days, Tom was forced to entertain Drunk Finn and Pathetic Finn by turns as the boy drank can after never ending can of beer.
"Stupid Finn ruined our lives," he would mumble once in a while, in between his God-awful moans of how he had let the best thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers. By the end of the first night, Tom just really, really wanted Sober and Whole Finn to come back. When Finn wasn't complaining, he was slumped against the headboard of his bed, brooding in silence. The cloud over his head had morphed into a giant storm over the whole room by the time day two arrived.
He knew it was bad, because Finn had never been this intoxicated for this long before. And he knew he should be worried because if he was sober, Finn would have totally kicked his own ass by then. But he couldn't help it. Tom was just really, really annoyed. The way he saw it, the resolution was so fucking simple, even a five year old could understand it.
"Oh my God!" he had finally yelled on the second night, his patience already reaching its limit. "Man the hell up and get off your ass to call the girl already if it's so bad! If not, just shut. The. Fuck. Up." All Drunk Finn did was stare at him blankly. Screaming in frustration, Tom had grabbed his jacket and stormed out the door towards the girlfriend's place. Three calming hours later, during which she had gently coaxed him to check up on his roommate before he drinks himself to death, Tom trudged back towards his room in resignation. He opened the door to find Finn hunched over his trash can, puking his guts out, and Tom's own lamp on the floor, broken in two. Tom heaved a huge sigh as he walked over to thump his friend in the back. The boy was lucky that lamp was a butt-ugly gift from his aunt.
Finn woke up the next morning with a hangover from hell, and Tom almost felt bad for him when the guy next door played his dance music out loud, surely causing his head to spin even worse than it already was. But he figured the big lug deserved it for making him go through two fucking days with all his multiple drunken personalities.
"Sorry man," Finn had apologized sheepishly a few hours later. He waved it off because you just don't kick a guy when he's down.
Two days later and they both decided to attend Bobby Silverman's annual end of semester bash just because it was going to be Finn's last one. Tom was kind of bummed to be losing his roommate, but he was moving in with the girlfriend next semester so it wasn't so bad. Some sophomore had somehow attached herself to Finn's arm and he watched in amusement as the dude kept shooting him Help me! Looks. He merely held up his hand in a thumbs up and laughed hysterically at the glare he received in return. Tom realized he had been ditched an hour later when he saw said girl attach herself to a different guy by the food table.
He went back an hour after that to find that he was locked out of his own room. Tom had frowned and wondered if maybe he'd used the wrong key in the beginning. It took him about a minute to realize that no, it was just that Finn had latched the deadbolt.
Which could only mean one thing.
His eyes were probably as wide as saucers when he realized that his roommate had a girl in their room for the first time in like, ever. Tom guessed he just had to be grateful that it wasn't the sophomore. He crashed over at the Amy's for the night, but had pounded furiously on their door at six thirty in the morning because he needed his wallet to eat.
"Open the hell up man!" he yelled, because he was hungry and Amy ran out of cereal. Finn had flung the door wide open, his face pissed. "Finally!" Tom whined. "You only took-" He stopped short at the sight before him.
Imagine his surprise to find Rachel Berry standing awkwardly behind his roommate, wringing her hands together. In the flesh. He noted the way she had missed a buttonhole on her blouse and how the rest of the buttons were misplaced, and he noted the fact that Finn had his shirt on backwards. He couldn't stop the grin on his face even if he wanted to.
"Hey you're-" Rachel with the fruit in her name, he wanted to say. Or that girl I've watched on DVD five million times. But he couldn't because Finn had cut him off immediately.
"We're busy," his roommate muttered through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at him. Tom merely raised an eyebrow as he walked in to retrieve his wallet on the table. He remembered to flash Rachel Berry a knowing grin when he walked past her and turned around when he reached the doorway, holding up his hand in mock salute to the both of them. He closed the door quietly behind him.
Well what do you know, he mused as he walked down the hallway. It seemed that they found their way after all. The girlfriend was going to freak.