A/N: Wow, I honestly didn't expect the fic to get such a positive answer! I hope this chapter is just as good as the first one! Also, I'll update Symphony soon, don't you worry, I'm already finishing the chapter. And now, without further or do, I present to you, the second chapter of You Can Leave Your Hat On. Enjoy!

"Like this?"

"No, it has to be harder."

"But I'm already doing it hard!"

"No, you're not. Come on, really grip it!" I tell my eight year old student Josh, trying to teach him how to drum properly. Even though I've just finished college, I still have to pay part of the bills by my own, so I give private drumming lessons to kids, which helps me earn some sweet cash and the job isn't bad either, I've always been good with kids and I can drum with both my hands tied and my eyes closed.

I see Josh whine, throwing the drumsticks to the side, almost letting them hit the floor, but I reach out for them before they reach the ground, gripping them tightly in my hands. I raise an eyebrow at him because even though the drumsticks aren't mine, these things are expensive. "I can't do this, Mr. Hudson!" The kid crosses his arms in front of his chest while he speaks, pouting. "I can't drum for my life."

I look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Dude, this is your fourth lesson, you can't just learn everything in four lessons." I see him frown. "But, you know, drumming is more about rhythm than anything else. When I was your age, I was hopeless when it came to the drums, but I began practicing every day and though my mom wanted to murder me for the noise, I was able to handle the drums just fine when I reached ten years old."

"It's going to take me two years to learn?!" Josh gasps and I sigh, rubbing my face with my hand.

"Everyone learns in their own time, Josh." I tell him. "Maybe it'll take you two months; maybe it'll take you two years, it doesn't matter, you have to focus on learning every single step if you want to be good at this." I look at him for a moment before I carefully pick up the drumsticks and hold them up to his face, waving them in front of him with a small smile. "Wanna practice again?"

He stares at the wooden sticks for a while before he gives in, sighing and grabbing them. "Fine. But I don't know how much I can take, Mr. Hudson. Drumming is hard."

I laugh. "Life is hard, kid, now come on. A one, a two, a one, two, three, four!"

xXx

I'm sitting on a chair, my feet tied onto the legs of the chair and I can barely see a step ahead of me. The room is dark and the only light in the place is a blue spotlight that hovers above a curtain and suddenly, the curtains open, revealing a frame, even though it's shady, through the lights.

I don't know where I am, I don't know what I'm doing but all I know is this: there is a woman is in front of me and she's wearing next to nothing on her body, her curvy hips covered by a lacy pair of black panties, her small chest held by a matching bra and though her bright, red lips are certainly crying out for attention, the black, velvety mask that covers her eyes is what gets me. She smiles and by the way she's staring at me - even though her mask - I can tell she wants something from me and wants it badly; and oh, will I give it to her. Anything she wants, she'll get it.

She walks over to me, slowly - she is such a tease - and grins widely as she notices how my breath turns heavier by each step she takes. Finally, she adjusts herself on my lap, straddling it; her smooth thighs settle by the side of my own and my hand grips onto her hip, my eyes wide as she runs her sharp, red nails along my covered chest, teasing my nipples in a way I didn't even know I liked.

She leans in and begins to press soft kisses to my neck and though I can feel the red lipstick sticking onto my neck, I barely care because her kisses feel so good, I never want them to end. She is grinding onto me now, her hands palming my abdomen through my shirt while her slippery tongue slips out of her red mouth and licks the shell of my ear and suddenly, shivers run down my spine and I let out a sharp breath: she's trying to kill me, I'm sure of it.

Her hands are unstoppable, sliding up and down my torso and just as she stops above the buttons of my jeans, smirking wickedly and beginning to hum near my ear. I know this voice, I've heard it before. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." She nips onto my neck and I growl. "Happy birthday," Her hands reach for the buttons of my jeans and I begin breathing hard, listening to my fly being pulled all the way down, feeling relief wash through me as my jeans don't constrict me anymore. "Finn Hudson..." She sounds just as sexy as before and this should be illegal, she's too good to be true. "Happy birthday," She reaches for my boxers covered erection and palms me through my jeans, making me go weak on my knees while her teeth are nibbling on my earlobe. "To you."

I am breathing as hard as a person who has just finished running a marathon and that only seems to make her like the situation more. Oh, she's a wicked one, this girl.

"Rachel." I purr under my breath. She looks at me and smirks, undoing her mask and throwing it onto the floor.

"Hey, Tall Boy."

And then she's gone.

xXx

I wake up covered in sweat, small drops of it falling down my forehead while I'm breathing hard, my chest rising and falling and I just realize what happened. I dreamt about her, again, for the second time tonight. Rachel Berry has burned her figure in my mind and she won't leave me alone for an instant.

As a writer, I'm supposed to know how to handle my emotions and unleash them on my work but so far? Things haven't been working so well. Rachel Berry brings out the beast in me, a side I didn't even know I had and I'm not sure if I like it or not.

After I came home from the strip club, I went through every single Rachel Berry profiles and none of them was hers; I have been frustrated, trying somehow to find anyone or anything that can lead me to her, I looked through my phonebook, Facebook, Twitter, Google, anything and you know what? I have found nothing; the girl is like a freakin' CIA agent or something; and it's driving me insane.
I tell my roommates about her, leaving the racy parts out, obviously, hoping that one of them knows about her ("No Puck, she isn't a real CIA agent, it's a metaphor, idiot!"), but they're as useless as I am, if not more. Defeated, I gather some food around the kitchen, a small cup of orange juice and some toasts with jam and lay them down on the table, eating in silence while I let my mind travel by itself, always coming back to the same topic: Rachel.

I wonder if that's her real name, after all, she could've tricked me into thinking that was her name, when it could've been just a joke she made to get me off her hair or something... Although she doesn't seem like the type of girl who would torture a guy like that.

No! What am I talking about? I don't even know her and she's a stripper!

While sipping on my orange juice, I decide that, from now on, I'm going to forget all about Rachel Berry.

Easier said than done.

xXx

I realize that I'm stuck in the tenth chapter of my novel, so instead of trying to push the ideas out of my head, I simply decided to go out, maybe breathe in some fresh air and let the oxygen work on my brain, let my ideas arrange themselves, y'know? So I put on my jeans and a jacket, it's chilly outside and I walk towards the front door, locking it after I leave the apartment, after all, there have been three robberies in the building this month. Have I mentioned that my neighborhood isn't exactly the safest in Manhattan? Yeah, well, it isn't.

I press the "down" button on the elevator, whistling and looking around while I wait for it to arrive. As the elevator doors open, I find a short, curvy Latina girl staring at me with her arms crossed in front of her chest, I walk inside the elevator and greet her ["Good afternoon, ma'am."] and she greets me back with a nod, dropping her arms in front of her body and letting her nails play with the elevator walls. She looks at me and leans her head to the side, almost like she's examining me, trying to figure out where she knows me from and then, she speaks.

"Do I know you? I feel like I've seen you before." She says. "Not around the building, I mean. Somewhere else?" She taps her skinny finger onto her chin, making a thinking face, trying to figure out if we've met before or not and then, she snaps her fingers. "Oh, I know! You're Puckerman's roommate, aren't you? Evans or something?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm Finn. Evans - or Sam, is the other one, y'know, the blond."

"Ah." She nods. "Trouty Mouth." I chuckle softly and she turns to look at me with a grin. "I'm Santana, Santana Lopez. I live on the fourth floor, apartment 402." She smiles and shakes my head politely and I nod.

"Well, like I said, I'm Finn, Finn Hudson. I live with Puck and Sam."

She nods. "I know." There's an awkward silence for a moment, but its broken as soon as she speaks again, a minute later. "Um, listen, I'm going to throw a party on my apartment on Saturday, it's a small reunion, just me and a few close friends... Would you like to come? You can ask Puckerman and Trouty Mouth as well, if you want." She offers and I nod simply.

"Um, sure! I'm not going anywhere on Saturday, anyway. I'll talk to them." The elevator doors open and I nod at her, holding it for her so she can leave; she thanks me and walks in front of me. She throws me a small wave before leaving the building, a "Bye, Hudson!" leaving her mouth as she walks away.

I immediately dial the familiar number I have mesmerized by now, knowing that he'll be the first one to want to know about this. "Puck, you're not going to believe this, man."

xXx

"I can't believe Santana invited you to the party and said to bring me along, I mean, Evans I understand, he's a total dork-"

"Hey!" Sam protests from across the room.

"But me? I'm a total hot piece of ass." Puck grunts into his beer, burping after he finishes it and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. I cringe.

"Has someone told you how classy you are before?"

He shrugs. "I'm a dude, I don't need class, I need my swagger." He smirks. "And I've got my swagger on my balls than both of you dorks have on your whole bodies."

Sam snickers from across the room and I roll my eyes while trying to hold all my clothes into my wardrobe, thinking that maybe it's time to clear this up. I see Puck getting up and heading towards the kitchen, so I shout over my shoulder. "Dude, go change, we're already one hour late for the party!" I sigh as he burps so loud that even I can hear it, even though he's two doors away.

We are going to Santana's party and Puck has been prissy ever since I told him about her invitation because she invited me specifically, telling me to tag him "along" and he doesn't like being put in second plan or something like that and though Sam and I are almost fully dressed up and ready to go, Puck is still wondering around the living room in his boxers and wife-beater. I send him an annoyed glance and he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Finnessa. I can get dressed in two seconds, unlike you ladies, I don't need to put make up on or shit like that."

Sam shots up from his seat and points at Puck. "It's not gay if it's chapstick!"

Puck rolls his eyes. "That's like saying: it's not gay if its guy on guy sex, seriously Evans, would you just come out of the closet already, you're wasting precious homosexual time here, dude." Sam throws his hands in the air, giving up while I hold back a chuckle; Puck knows that only three things can piss Sam off: saying something bad about Avatar ["What do you mean it's all about special effects? You clearly don't understand the storyline!"], saying that the new version of Star Wars is better than the original and making fun of his love affair with his chapstick; honestly though, I've got to give Puck some points here, the dude carries two chapsticks in his pockets everytime he leaves the apartment - even though its just in case his lips lose it's softness.

After Puck finally finishes getting dressed and Sam applies his second layer of chapstick, I put on my blazer and grab the apartment keys in my hands, whistling to get Puck and Sam's attention, who are now arguing about... Well, anything, really, I don't care. "You guys ready to go?" I ask while leading us out of my room and unlocking the front door.

"Yeah." Puck shrugs. "Oh wait, I have to check something first-" He presses his hand onto his pocket and smirks proudly. "Got my condoms, let's go party, dudes!" He shouts while he presses the elevator button and I lock the front door. We enter the elevator and though it's like torture having to listen to Puck's sexual positions and which ones he plans on using tonight, we finally reach the fourth floor, knocking on the front door of Santana's apartment.

The Latina opens the door and smirks while the three of us examine her body: she has a hot pink dress on that reaches just above her knee and hugs her waist tightly, bringing out her breasts and making them nearly jump out of the dress, Puck whistles while I nod hello and Sam just stand there awkwardly. She hugs Puck tightly, pressing her chest to his and giggles as he whispers something in her ear, turning to Sam and I, hugging the both of us as well.

"I'm so glad you guys could make it!" She squeals and I can feel the alcohol in her breath. "I thought that you wouldn't be able to come, since you're one hour late."

Puck grins, wrapping an arm around Santana while she leads us inside. "I don't like keeping my ladies waiting but, Huddy and Evans over there had to put their make up on, so..."

She laughs and kisses his cheek. "Well okay, come with me, I want to introduce you guys to my friends! C'mon!" She says and next thing we know, she is dragging Puck around the crowded living room and apparently, Santana's definition of a private party is sort of twisted. We spot a few girls dancing in the middle of the living room, almost all of them holding drinks in their hands and giggling loudly while they twirl their hips to the song. The music is incredibly loud but we managed to hear Santana's words anyways, so, she begins to point at her friends and introduce them all to us, one by one.

"Guys, I'd like you to meet Brittany," She points at a pale girl with blue eyes, blonde hair and who is wearing tight leather pants along with a neon shirt. She waves hi and tries to say something through her giggles, but ends up letting the laughter swallow all of her words, making them not possible to understand. Santana shakes her head and continues. "Ignore her, she's wasted!" She laughs, resting her hand on a skinny girl's shoulder. "This is Quinn." Quinn waves her fingers at us and smirks, mostly at Puck and I can already feel the sexual heat exhaling from both of them; she has green eyes, blonde, curly hair and a small, baby blue dress on; Puck winks at her and she giggles, biting her lip and blushing. "This is Tina..." She taps an Asian girl's shoulder and the girl smiles shyly at us, nodding her head; the girl is pretty, she has dark hair with pink tips and is wearing dark, gothic clothes. "And finally, this is my little hobbit..." But the girl isn't facing us, she's laughing at something Quinn said. Santana taps her shoulder lightly and she turns around. "Berry, say hello to the boys." The girl is wearing a tight, red dress, she spots long, tanned legs and her ass should be illegal, but we have yet to see her faceand- wait, wait... Did she just say Berry?

Oh no.

Oh shit.

"Hey there, Tall Boy."

A/N: Am I a tease, yes or yes? Haha, thanks for reading, I hope the second chapter didn't let you down.