I don't own Glee or any of the characters
This chapter is much longer than the previous two! Let me know if you enjoy this length more!
Also, let me preface that this is VERY AU and Finn is very OOC
Enjoy and review!
The next day after football practice, Finn was driving when his phone rang. He picked it up, and before he could even say "hello," Quinn's screeching voice blasted into his ear.
"Finn! Someone started this hilarious rumor that you joined the Glee Club! Please tell me it's not true?" Her voice sounded less like a question and more like a warning. Finn felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.
"Uh, yeah, it's true. Schuester has me doing it. It was either that or two weeks of detention, babe," Finn replied, already bracing for the shitstorm that was about to hit him.
He didn't need to see her face to know Quinn was scowling. He could practically feel it through the phone.
"Are you mentally retarded, Finn? What in God's name could you have possibly done to get forced into that joke of a club? Does Schuester have a personal vendetta against you?" Quinn demanded, her voice furious. Finn had no idea what a vendetta even was, but it sounded like something serious—and probably bad for him.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? There's nothing I can do about it," Finn muttered, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Jacob snitched about me breaking his camera, and now I'm stuck with this mess. I'm not exactly thrilled about it either, Q."
"See! This all happened because you had to be Treasure Trail's damn white knight, didn't you?!" she screamed, her voice going a few octaves higher.
"I know, I know. Trust me, I won't be saving anyone's ass again, okay?" Finn said quickly, getting defensive. If Puck saw him letting Quinn lay into him like this, he'd definitely have "WHIPPED" flashing above his head in neon lights.
"Fine," Quinn spat, her tone still sharp. "But if I catch you even thinking about acting like one of those pretentious 'gleeks,' we are so done!"
Finn ran a hand through his hair, trying to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Quinn. I get it. I'll be sure to keep my Glee Club fantasies to myself, okay? I'm not about to become one of those over-the-top, busting-out-into-song types."
Quinn huffed, her frustration clear. "You better not, Finn. I don't want to be dating some gleek."
"I'm not," Finn replied quickly. "It's just a stupid club."
"Good. Keep it that way. I love you, but don't let it get to your head."
"I won't. Love you too," Finn muttered, relieved that their interaction was finally over.
Thank the Lord Quinn didn't know Finn was heading straight to the house of Rachel Freaking Berry—the head "gleek" herself.
Finn was already pretty familiar with the Berry household. He and some of the guys on the football team had driven by before and thrown eggs at the house—and at Rachel while she was walking home. He silently prayed that they wouldn't recognize him as one of the jocks who had sent their precious angel home with egg yolk dripping down her blouse. That would be a fun conversation to avoid.
He walked up to their ridiculously fancy porch—complete with marble finishes, like they were living in some kind of high-class castle—and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, an averagely built Black man opened it with a smile that screamed we-are-so-happy-to-see-you-but-please-don't-make-us-regret-it.
"Well, hello there! You must be the guest our sweet little Rachela mentioned!" he said warmly.
Another man quickly appeared beside him. He was taller than the first, and even taller than Finn, who now felt a little more intimidated.
"We're Rachela's fathers, but I'm sure you already know that," the taller man said, his tone cold enough to make Finn feel like he was about to be ice-checked. "We have rules in this house, young man. The door is always open—no funny business."
Right, because Finn had totally planned to get handsy with the girl who would probably spend the next few hours lecturing him on musicals. Definitely not the funny business kind of night.
"Uh... Yes, sir," Finn muttered, mentally checking out. He just wanted to survive this, get the project done, and never have to talk about Rachel Berry's overenthusiastic dads again.
"Rachela mentioned this was for Glee Club, and that's all it's for, understood?" the taller man continued, narrowing his eyes like he was assessing whether Finn was a threat to his precious daughter—or to his living room furniture.
"Understood," Finn said quickly, nodding like a puppy desperate to please.
The guy's piercing stare lingered for a second too long, but eventually he gave a curt nod. Finn, now thoroughly uncomfortable, added, "I'm Finn Hudson, by the way." He offered the most awkward, tight-lipped smile in an attempt to seem normal. Probably just made it worse.
"Finn Hudson!" the shorter man said, his face lighting up with recognition. "You're the quarterback, right? Heard a lot about you from Rachela."
Finn felt his stomach churn. Great. Rachel had gone ahead and spread his name all over the place, no doubt filling her dads' heads with whatever details she thought were important.
"Yeah, that's me," Finn replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... nice to meet you both." His nerves were starting to settle, but not by much.
"Alright then!" The first man clapped his hands together, his excitement too infectious for Finn to remain fully tense. "Rachel!"
Finn sighed in relief. At least the interrogation was over—until he realized he was about to spend the next several hours with her. Rachel, the one who wore knee-high socks like they were a uniform and treated everything like a Broadway production, and who was making her way down the stairs.
"Yes, Daddy? Oh! Hello there, Finn!" she greeted him, bubbly as ever. But there was a subtle hesitation in her tone, a carefulness that hadn't been there before.
Finn's brow furrowed a little, picking up on the slight change, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. She continued, her smile still bright but with a tinge of caution. "I—I'm glad you could come. My dads have already introduced themselves, I trust?" Her voice softened a little as she said it, she sounded more reserved.
She paused for a moment, then quickly added, "I hope you don't mind the... um, enthusiasm. They're very welcoming." Her words were still cheerful, but there was a nervous edge in them now, like she was trying a little too hard to fill the silence.
"Yeah, totally. So, you wanna get this over with?" He glanced around the house, still feeling like a fish out of water. But then, Rachel, in true Rachel Berry fashion, tugged him up the stairs with barely a moment's hesitation.
"Come on, let's get started! No time to waste!" she chirped, tugging at his sleeve like he was an old friend and not the guy who'd slushied her two days ago. Maybe she was trying to act like it didn't matter.
As they trudged up the stairs, Finn noticed the wall full of pictures. All of Rachel. From when she was a baby up until what it looked like last Tuesday. Yeah, he had to admit it—she'd been a pretty cute kid. Too bad she was one batty chick now.
As they reached the top and walked into her room, Rachel's voice was back to its chipper self, but there was still a flicker of hesitation in her eyes as she spoke. "Please forgive the mess," she said quickly, her smile just a little too bright. "I know it looks... a lot, but it helps me stay organized." She glanced around as if she was nervous Finn might think it was all too much. "You know how it is."
Finn didn't say anything but raised an eyebrow, noticing how uncomfortable she seemed. "Yeah, sure, no big deal," he said, trying to sound casual.
Rachel gave a small, relieved smile before continuing, "Thanks. I—I know it's... not everyone's taste." Her voice trailed off.
Finn could tell Rachel was still hung up on the whole slushy thing, even if she wasn't saying anything. She was acting like everything was cool, but Finn wasn't stupid. He could totally feel the weird vibe. Honestly, he wasn't sure how to fix it, and didn't really care enough to bother. He'd done their thing, she'd done hers, and now they were stuck together for this dumb project. Whatever.
Her room was exactly what Finn had expected: a sensory overload of pastels, posters, and a shit-ton of stars. Honestly, he couldn't deny it—Rachel's room screamed her personality in the most obnoxious way possible. There were stuffed animals everywhere, like an army of creepy little creatures, their beady eyes staring at him with a weird mix of judgment and curiosity. It was a total mindfuck. The complete opposite of Quinn's room, which was basically a minimalist shrine to Jesus—crosses and pictures of the holy one hanging on every wall like some kind of spiritual cult.
Of course, he wasn't surprised. Her whole life seemed to be one big, self-congratulatory trophy shelf. He was starting to wonder if she had a mirror that just whispered affirmations to her.
Finn rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the assault of bright colors bombarding him from every corner of the room. As he did, Rachel chimed in, "Oh, my apologies! I forgot some of my sheet music downstairs. Give me a second to grab it."
She paused, looking at him like she was unsure if he'd be annoyed by the delay, but then quickly added, "I—I'll be right back, just stay right here." She smiled awkwardly, her eyes darting to the floor before she practically skipped out of the room.
Finn barely had a chance to process her departure before he was left standing there, awkwardly staring at all the pink in sight. Deciding he wasn't going to just stand there like an idiot, Finn took the opportunity to look around.
Her desk was a cluttered mess of playbills, notebooks, and—oh, right—more pictures of Rachel, one with her dads and another from some random competition she'd probably hyped up to be her big break. He rolled his eyes, already feeling his brain starting to melt.
Everywhere Finn looked, there were framed photos of her grinning from ear to ear, as if each one was a testament to an inevitable rise to stardom. It was like she was already living the dream and the rest of the world was just playing catch-up. Maybe it'd be impressive if you weren't choking on self-promotion. But Finn had to admit—she was relentless about owning her little universe. Even if that universe looked like a shrine dedicated to herself.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Rachel's light footsteps approaching the room again. She was holding a stack of sheet music in her hands, her eyes focused on the paper, but as she stepped in, she froze.
"Finn?" Rachel asked cautiously, setting the sheets down on her desk and looking up at him.
Instead of meeting her gaze, Finn casually scanned the posters on the wall, trying to look like he wasn't really paying attention. "Yeah?" he answered, his voice sounding a bit more unsure than he'd like.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing this was already over. Being in her room was... weird. Way too personal. And Rachel treating him like they were just doing a homework assignment wasn't exactly making it easier to act like everything was fine.
Rachel, sitting down in the chair by her desk, turned to face him. "Look," she started, her voice softer than usual, "I know this situation isn't ideal for either of us, but if we want to make the most out of this assignment, we need to put our..." She hesitated, clearly thinking about her next words. "...personal differences aside."
Finn raised an eyebrow, half amused by how serious she was trying to sound, and half annoyed that she wasn't just getting to the point. "Yeah, sure," he said, trying to make it sound casual, but it came 0ut more careless.
Before he could zone out and let the awkward silence take over, he blurted out something he'd been chewing on for a few days. "Look, I know it was a dick move slushying you the other day..." Finn said, his voice dropping a little. "And I'm sorry about Quinn, and your clothes. She can kind of be a bitch sometimes." He immediately regretted letting that last part slip out, his voice trailing off awkwardly.
Rachel stiffened at the mention of the slushy. Finn could see her trying to act like it didn't bug her, but he could tell by the way she shifted in her seat that it did. She glanced at the desk like she was looking for something to distract her. When she spoke again, her words were quick, like she was trying to brush it off. "What happened in the past stays there," she said, almost too fast. "And, it's not like I'm not used to it by now."
Finn winced a little, feeling that weird tightness in his chest again. She sounded like it didn't bother her, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it totally did. It was... uncomfortable. And not something he was good at dealing with. So, he just let it sit there, letting the silence stretch out between them.
Rachel cleared her throat, a small shift in her tone as she continued. "And, I—I never really mentioned it, but I did appreciate you giving me back my clothes from Quinn." She looked at him, not with her usual snarky intensity, but almost like she was... waiting for him to get it.
Finn blinked, not sure if he'd heard that right. "Wait, you appreciated that?" he asked, genuinely confused.
Rachel nodded, but this time it wasn't the usual "I'm always right" nod. It was more genuine. "I didn't expect you to do that, especially since we're not exactly friends, but you did."
Finn wasn't sure what to make of that. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of her reaction. "Well, I mean, I kinda had to, right?" he said with a shrug, trying to act casual, but his words came out a little quieter than he intended. "I was the one who caused the whole mess in the first place." He rubbed the back of his neck again, his voice fading slightly.
The second it left his lips, he could tell it didn't land well. Rachel's face tightened, and for the briefest moment, Finn regretted not keeping his mouth shut. But he couldn't take it back now.
"Yeah, well..." Rachel said softly, glancing back down at the desk, "thank you anyway."
Rachel quickly turned her attention back to the sheet music, flipping through it as if it were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. Finn couldn't help but watch her for a second, his mind churning through the weirdness of it all. Everything about this situation felt off. It was like being in a car that kept lurching forward and jerking back, throwing him off balance. One second, Rachel couldn't even look him in the eye, like he was some kind of disease. And the next, she was acting like they were just two normal students doing a dumb assignment.
But Finn wasn't about to let that slide. He wasn't going to just sit there and pretend like nothing happened either. Rachel acting like she was perfectly fine with this whole situation was seriously grating on his nerves. It made him feel like he had to break the ice, even if he didn't know how without making things worse.
Sighing inwardly, Finn leaned in, his voice dropping low as he threw out some cocky humor to lighten the mood. "Sorry, this must suck for you huh? I'm probably the first guy you've ever had in here. Bet that's a record."
Rachel's hands froze mid-turn of the sheet music, her fingers twitching like she didn't know what to do next. She didn't move for a second, her back going stiff as a board. Then, she whipped her head toward him, her eyes wide in shock before her face immediately hardened. Finn didn't need to be a genius to know he'd hit a nerve.
"That is not true!" she yelped, her voice way too high-pitched for comfort. She quickly snapped her head back to the sheet music, her fingers twisting the page so violently it was like she was trying to shred it.
Finn raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with a cheeky smile. The way she reacted was almost too easy. He wasn't backing off now. Hell, it was too much fun. "Uh, hate to break it to you, but your dads don't exactly count, Berry," he said, his tone thick with sarcasm.
Rachel's cheeks turned the deepest shade of pink, and she practically puffed out her chest, looking like she was ready to explode. "Not that it's any of your business," she squeaked, her voice rising even higher than before, "but I have a boyfriend!"
Finn smirked, loving how defensive she was getting. "Oh really? Haven't seen you hanging out with any guys. Is it some big secret relationship?" he teased, leaning in a little closer.
Rachel shot him a skeptical look, crossing her arms over her chest like she was trying to protect herself from whatever Finn was about to throw at her. "Why do you care?" she whined, clearly annoyed but still flustered.
Finn's grin stretched wider. Oh, she was definitely on the defensive now. "I'm just curious what kind of guy can handle all... this," he said, dramatically waving a hand around her room—every inch of it dedicated to Rachel Berry. He couldn't help but chuckle. "Wait, it's not Jacob Ben Israel, is it? I mean, I know he's got a thing for you. Didn't realize you were into... what's the word? Jew-fros."
Rachel's face twisted with disgust, and Finn could see her whole body stiffen. "No!" she shouted, her voice practically cracking. "Jacob Ben Israel is not my boyfriend, and he never will be!" She paused, her face turning an angry red, and then the whine was back, this time tinged with annoyance. "You wouldn't even know the guy I'm dating. He goes to a different school…"
Finn raised an eyebrow, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "Ohhh, really?" he said, pretending to be shocked. "A boyfriend who goes to a different school? Sounds like a classic case of 'he doesn't exist.'" He leaned in with fake sincerity. "You're just making him up, aren't you? Wow, Rachel, color me impressed. You've really got me fooled."
The laugh slipped out of him before he could even stop it. He was watching her unravel piece by piece, and it was like a game.
Rachel's voice wavered as she tried to sound convincing. "I'm serious!" she insisted, though it came out uptight than before. "He's a real person! You just wouldn't understand."
Finn pretended to consider her words for a moment, cocking his head. "Uh-huh. Sure, sure, totally real." He shook his head like the whole thing was too ridiculous to even pretend to believe. "Come on, Rachel, you're not gonna pull the whole 'I've got a secret boyfriend' thing on me and expect me to buy it. Seriously, you just made up some dude to make yourself feel better about all the guys you don't have around here, didn't you?"
Rachel's expression tightened, her cheeks going pinker as Finn kept poking at her. She jumped up suddenly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Finn didn't even flinch. She grabbed the framed photo from her bedside table in a rush, the glass catching the light. She practically stomped over to him, her eyes flashing with determination.
"Here!" she snapped, practically shoving the photo into his face. "Take a good look at this, Finn."
Finn blinked at the photo she shoved under his nose. It was a picture of a guy with curly dark hair, with an extremely lame scarf, and a pompous grin." Next to him was Rachel, gazing up at him like he was the best thing since sliced bread. Finn couldn't help but roll his eyes, giving the photo another once-over.
"Alright, so this is your guy?" he asked, trying to sound unimpressed. But as he stared at the photo, a small snort escaped him. "Yeah, he's alright. But honestly? I'm still way better-looking."
Rachel's eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she snatched the photo back, clutching it to her chest like she was saving it from some great danger. "You're seriously comparing yourself to him?" she asked, her voice reaching that high-pitched, indignant tone. "This is Jesse St. James, Finn. He's a senior at Carmel High and the male lead for Vocal Adrenaline. He's... perfect."
"Aww, how adorable," Finn replied mockingly, before he leaned in, smirking. "Maybe he'll serenade you at your next Glee performance. You know, tell you how much you two are meant to be. I bet you two are already planning your duet for Broadway debut." He couldn't stop the wink he threw her way, loving how red her face was getting.
Rachel's voice practically crackled with irritation as she squared her shoulders. "You don't get it, Finn," she whined again, this time more exasperated. "Jesse is more than just some guy in a choir. He's incredible. His voice—there's nothing like it. And he's so talented. You wouldn't even understand." She sighed deeply, her eyes practically sparkling. "He's got the presence, the confidence. And when he sings, it's like nothing else matters."
Finn leaned in, relishing the way her face was turning redder by the second. "So, he gets you, huh? He's like, Mr. Perfect?. Every time you open your mouth, he probably just swoons." He grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "I bet he's already planning how to help you get your big break—just the two of you, in a duet about your undying love for eachother."
Rachel's eyes narrowed, her face flushed even more. "Don't make fun of him, Finn," she snapped, her voice tight, but she couldn't hide the pouty edge creeping in. "You don't know anything about him."
Finn couldn't help teasing her. "I bet you two spend hours pouring your hearts out, talking about your feelings. Sounds like an emotional rollercoaster." He chuckled softly, savoring the frustration that was growing on her face.
Rachel froze, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "That's not what I mean. He's just... different."
Finn leaned in even closer, his voice low and teasing. "Ohhh, I get it. He's your 'sensitive' guy, huh? The one who knows exactly how to treat a woman?" He raised an eyebrow, enjoying the discomfort she was showing. "Come on, Rachel, I'm sure Jesse knows exactly how to win you over. You two probably have all kinds of 'private rehearsals,' huh? Where you work on more than just vocal runs?" He let the suggestion hang in the air, loving the way she was starting to squirm.
Rachel's eyes narrowed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Finn, I swear to you, if you don't stop right now, I will absolutely—" She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the frustration was still obvious in the way her shoulders tensed. "You know nothing about Jesse or what we share, and frankly, I'm getting tired of you making jokes at my expense. So if you have nothing constructive to say, I suggest you keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered slightly, but her glare could've burned a hole through him. "I'm done with this conversation."
Finn raised his hands in mock surrender, a little taken aback by the edge in her voice, "Okay, okay, calm down, Berry," he said, his voice teasing but careful. "I saw you were pretty focused on that sheet music earlier. You find a ballad for us to do yet?"
Before Finn could get a response from Rachel, the door to the room creaked open, and in walked the man of the hour, Jesse St. James. Rachel's whole face lit up the second she saw him, like a damn light bulb flickering on in her head. She jumped up from her seat on the bed, throwing herself into his arms. Jesse didn't hesitate—his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. Finn tried to ignore the tightening in his chest as he watched them, leaning back in his seat, focusing on something—anything—other than the way Jesse seemed to hold Rachel a little too tightly.
Rachel pulled away from Jesse slightly, her eyes wide with excitement as she bounced on her heels. "Jesse, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice full with joy. "I wasn't expecting you! Are you here for a surprise visit or something?"
Jesse smirked, giving a nonchalant shrug as he leaned against the doorframe. "Oh, you know, just in the neighborhood," he said smoothly, his tone oozing confidence. "Figured I'd stop by and see my girl. Couldn't resist."
She leaned up to kiss his cheek, and Jesse reciprocated without missing a beat, their easy familiarity obvious. Finn shifted uncomfortably in his seat at Rachel's desk. He didn't want to be the odd one out here. He was just a guy doing a project. But it was hard to ignore the way Jesse's presence seemed to take up the whole room, like there was no space left for anyone else.
Jesse's eyes scanned the room slowly, taking in every detail, from the disorganized desk to the stuffed animals sitting on the shelves. Then, his gaze landed on Finn. He froze for a second, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, before he gave a sharp tug on Rachel's waist, pulling her even closer to him. He gave Finn a once-over, sizing him up like he was some kind of threat. The guy was practically radiating suspicion. Finn had no idea what this guy's problem was.
"And who might this be?" Jesse asked, his voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and something else, something darker—possessive. His tone had this edge to it that Finn didn't like. It wasn't friendly. Jesus, it wasn't even neutral. It was cold, like he was already marking territory.
Rachel, still smiling brightly, gave him an easy introduction. "This is Finn! He's the newest member of the New Directions I was telling you about!" she said, her excitement practically radiating off of her.
Finn gave a casual nod in Jesse's direction, leaning back in his chair with that same laid-back posture he always had. He figured he could keep it cool. "What's up," Finn said, his voice nonchalant, trying to shrug off the weird energy building in the room.
Jesse didn't bother with a smile, his expression still a little too calculating and wary. His eyes didn't leave Finn for a second, and there was this weird undercurrent in his voice when he spoke again. "What are you two doing up here anyway?" he asked, his voice sharpening. It wasn't just curiosity anymore. It was a direct challenge, like Finn had just invaded his territory and Jesse wasn't about to let him get too comfortable.
Rachel, completely oblivious to the tone shift between the two of them, started to answer, probably going off on some long-winded explanation that Finn really didn't have the patience for. But before she could spiral into another one of her musical theater rants, Finn cut her off.
"We're working on a project for Glee," Finn said, his words coming out a little more clipped than usual. "Some stupid ballad assignment." He didn't want to get into the details with Jesse—who, by the way, was still standing way too close to Rachel for Finn's liking. He wasn't jealous at all, but he was damn sure uncomfortable with how dominating Jesse was acting already.
Jesse's eyes flickered over to Rachel, and his grip tightened around her waist like he was making sure she wasn't going anywhere. Without even glancing back at Finn, he began to twirl a strand of Rachel's hair around his finger, slow and deliberate, like he was marking her as his.
"Well, Rachel's ballads are the epitome of perfection," Jesse said, his voice smooth, but the underlying arrogance was hard to ignore. "So, I really doubt she needs any help, especially from someone who's so… new to the world of music." The way he said it made it sound like Finn didn't even belong in the same room as them—like he wasn't even worth considering as a legitimate partner in this assignment.
Finn's fingers tightened around the edge of the chair, his knuckles going white. He didn't like where this was going. Jesse's tone was a low blow, wrapped in the guise of superiority, and it didn't sit well with him. He could feel the heat building in his chest, the kind of heat that came right before you lost your patience.
With a deep breath, Finn relaxed himself and let out a low chuckle. "Right," he said, his voice casual, the sarcasm barely veiled. "Guess I'll just let Rachel handle all those perfect ballads by herself, she's the expert, right?"
Jesse's lips twitched like he was savoring some private joke. His eyes flicked back to Finn, assessing him like a predator getting ready to pounce. The dude was still holding on to Rachel like he was never going to let her breathe without his permission. Finn had to force himself not to start throwing punches—he was pretty sure the guy would end up with a black eye if he didn't control himself.
Before the tension could reach the boiling point, Rachel leaned forward, her eyes shining with excitement, though there was a brief flicker of hesitation in her expression—just enough for Finn to notice. She bit her lip for a split second before her enthusiasm took over, her voice soft but eager. "Actually," she piped up, her tone uncertain at first, "that's exactly why we need to combine our ideas! I know my ballads are good, but there is always room for improvement, right?" She glanced at Jesse, offering him a bright, somewhat tentative smile, before pushing on, her voice gaining confidence. "We're going to mix Finn's fresh perspective with my experience, and it's going to be amazing. The best of both worlds!"
Jesse didn't return her smile. Instead, he studied Finn again, his gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. It wasn't subtle, the way Jesse was practically peeling Finn apart with his eyes. It wasn't just skepticism now—it was contempt. Like Finn was some kind of intruder in a world that Jesse had already claimed as his own. And what bothered Finn more than that was the feeling that Jesse wasn't just annoyed with him—he was irritated that Rachel wasn't as easily swayed. That she wasn't just falling back into his orbit, letting him dictate every damn thing.
Finally, Jesse spoke, his voice velvety and measured, though there was an undeniable bite to it. "Yeah, well, we'll see. I just don't want Rachel getting stuck doing something half-assed, y'know?" He turned his head toward her, the way his eyes softened for a second, "She deserves better than that."
Rachel beamed, her cheeks flushing at the compliment, completely missing the underlying diss.
Finn's jaw clenched at the look Rachel was giving Jesse, how easily she was charmed by him. She was practically glowing under his praise, not even noticing the way Jesse was controlling the conversation, controlling the space between them.
Finn leaned back in his chair, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his gut, but the way Jesse was still staring at him—like Finn was just a problem to be solved—made him bristle.
"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm trying to ruin the whole project," Finn muttered under his breath, barely holding back his irritation. "We're just trying to work together, you know?"
Jesse didn't even flinch. He just raised an eyebrow, looking at Finn like he was the biggest joke he'd ever seen. "You sure about that?" Jesse said, tone dripping with disbelief. "Because you don't really strike me as the 'teamwork' type."
Finn bit down on his tongue to stop himself from lashing out, but Jesse's constant need to act like a complete douche was seriously pissing him off.
"Hey, is it possible for you to quit being such a self-absorbed, arrogant asshole for, like, one fucking second?" Finn retorted, his voice thick with frustration. He straightened up in his chair, leaning forward slightly as he shot Jesse a look that could've melted steel. His tone was dripping with annoyance, every word punctuated to show Jesse how irritated he really was.
Jesse quirked an eyebrow, his lips curling into an egotistical smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, Finn. Did I hurt your feelings?" His voice dripped with condescension as he took a slow step closer, his gaze never leaving Finn. "I didn't realize you were the sensitive type. But hey, don't worry—I'm sure you'll figure out how to stop leeching off others' talents… someday." He let out a mocking laugh, clearly enjoying the sting in his words.
Before Finn could even register the words he wanted to spit out in response, He shot out of his chair, his muscles coiling with tension, and for a brief moment, it felt like the room itself held its breath. Every instinct screamed at him to take a swing, to shut the guy up once and for all. It was like his entire body was vibrating with the energy of his anger, and it was all he could do to keep himself grounded, to resist the overwhelming impulse to throw a punch and make Jesse regret ever opening his mouth. The pressure in his chest was suffocating, and Finn could feel the heat rising in his face, his hands shaking slightly with the effort of holding back.
Rachel quickly stepped between Finn and Jesse, her heart racing as she saw the tension escalating. "Um, Jesse, let's step into the hallway for a moment and just... take a breath," she said, her voice soft, almost trembling with nerves. Her hand reached out, gently taking his, hoping her calm would somehow ground him.
Jesse, clearly agitated, let out a long, exaggerated breath, his chest rising and falling dramatically as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Finn rolled his eyes in annoyance at the display.
With a deep sigh of his own, Jesse turned to Rachel, his tone dripping with his usual pretentiousness. "You're right, Rach," he said flatly, his voice laced with impatience. Without missing a beat, he gripped her hand firmly forcefully, and yanked her towards the door, not giving her much of a choice but to follow.
And of course, before he pulled her out, Jesse had to throw one last jab Finn's way. He shot a quick, icy glare in Finn's direction. Then, with a huff, he yanked the door open and led Rachel into the hallway.
Finn could hear the muffled voices of Jesse and Rachel through the thin walls, the tension still thick in the air even after they'd left the room. Jesse's words were sharp, his tirade seemed to never stop, and Rachel's responses were too soft, too quick, and far too accommodating for Finn's liking. He could picture it clearly—her fidgeting nervously, trying to smooth over the situation with her signature blend of optimism and passive persistence. It grated on him more than he wanted to admit.
He didn't want to be there anymore. He needed out. But just as he was about to grab his jacket and head for the door, he heard it—the sound of the door creaking open. Of course.
Rachel stepped in, looking all kinds of off. Her posture wasn't quite right, like she was still processing whatever just happened. She caught his eye almost immediately, and he could tell something was up. Maybe it was disappointment, maybe concern. He didn't know, and he didn't care to figure it out.
She closed the door softly behind her, the quiet click of it making everything feel more suffocating. She cleared her throat, as though bracing herself to address him, but it took her a moment before she spoke.
"Jesse and I decided it would be best for him to head home," she said, her voice calm and collected, but there was something underneath it. Something off. "So we could continue with the assignment." The words were polished, professional, but her tone sounded restrained, like she was trying to keep everything from falling apart. Her hands were clasped in front of her, fingers fidgeting with one another, betraying her own nerves.
Finn didn't meet her eyes at first. Instead, he continued shoving his things into his bag, wanting nothing more than to get out of this damn room—out of this whole damn situation. He could feel the tension in the air, hanging thick between them like smoke from a fire that had long burned out.
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna leave too," he muttered, his voice slightly distant, betraying his frustration. His chest was tight, his throat raw from the way he'd reacted earlier. He'd gotten too heated. Way too heated. But seeing Jesse's face, hearing the way he'd spoken to Rachel, had done something to him. He hated the way it made him feel—like he was small and unimportant.
He could feel her eyes on him, though. She was still watching him, trying to gauge his mood, her gaze soft but searching. For a moment, he wondered if she was waiting for some sort of explanation, or maybe an apology. He didn't want to give her either.
"But we didn't get any work done!" Rachel protested, the slight whine in her voice only making his irritation grow. He knew she wasn't mad, just frustrated. But something about the way she always pushed so hard to be productive, to keep things moving forward, always rubbed him the wrong way. Did she ever just… stop?
"We can work on this another time," he said, brushing it off like it didn't matter, like the whole thing hadn't been a massive disaster. His words came out clipped and dismissive, almost like a reflex. He wasn't even sure why he was being like this, but he couldn't stop himself. "See ya, Berry."
His voice came out colder than he meant, but by then, he didn't care. He didn't wait for her to say anything. He didn't want to hear the sadness or the soft pleading he knew she'd give. He didn't want to see her confused face, so he turned and headed for the door. He could feel her eyes on his back, but he didn't look back. Not once.
The door clicked shut behind him, and he was in the hallway, the cool air a welcome relief compared to the suffocating pressure he'd just left behind. But even as he walked down the stairs, the pit in his stomach wasn't disappearing. He had no idea what the hell had just happened, but something told him it wasn't going to be easy to forget.