Chapter Text
Jesse St James was ruining his life. Maybe not his whole life but at least some of it. Parts of it. Two parts of it.
He stood there so perfectly smug, tearing a hole through the centre of the choir room with his very presence. He was too relaxed; hands in his pockets and an easy smile etched across his features. Finn couldn’t imagine hating anyone more.
“What the hell?” he spat, noting the way Jesse’s eyes barely flicked towards him. “It seems like now everybody’s doing things just to hurt my feelings.”
“I thought you all would take this news a little better,” Jesse said, tilting his head just slightly. “I’m a star. You can learn from me.”
Finn’s rage was red hot. He imagined it was written all over his features. There was a reason his mum had encouraged him towards the drums despite the noise and, as his grip tightened around the frail plastic of his chair, he could feel that deeply buried need to hit and kick and scream and cry. Tantrums weren’t so sustainable after the pre-teens so a drum session would have to do.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, guys,” Shue interjected across the muddled voices throwing accusations. “I saw all the paperwork, I spoke with his parents…”
“They winter in Bali. It’s a very expensive phone call,” Jesse added.
Of course they fucking winter in Bali. Of course Rachel would be all over a guy who could give her the world on a platter. It almost felt like he was rubbing in all that time he’d taken to be anything but bottom of the barrel white trash. He looked down at him from where he stood and Finn felt like he knew that his mom barely kept them afloat and that their house was probably the size of his bed room.
Finn was not insecure about money. He hadn’t been for a long time. Lima was more of a class melting pot than those who had money realised. He learnt pretty quickly that those who had the means to climb rarely even noticed when you didn’t. It was easier to pretend not to see cracks in the plaster of his kitchen wall than it was to pretend not to see the handcrafted banister at the foot of Quinn’s grand staircase. People didn’t point out how poor you were, they just didn’t point out how rich.
He’d only been in Jesse’s presence for a few minutes and decades of knowing his place felt as if they were crumbling around him. Something about his mannerisms, his attitude, his perfect clothes and perfect hair and perfect life; it got under Finn’s skin more than just stealing his crush from under him would.
“Jesse just moved in with his uncle, which is in our school district,” Shue continued. “It’s all above board, guys. He goes to this school now.”
“But this isn’t fair,” he heard Artie complain behind him.
He agreed. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Rachel said, pulling his gaze to her.
Her eyes were soft, flicking erratically as her brows drew into an expression of concern. Underneath, he could see it. A quiver of her lip and a cosmic shimmer in her eye.
He didn’t want to look at her and see that love struck expression he thought he had a monopoly over, but there it was. It felt selfish to want so desperately to keep it for himself after everything. Beautiful things should be seen but he wanted that one painting stored away in a private gallery and instead he watched it hung up in the fucking Louvre.
“Because when you love something, you’ve got to go for it,” Jesse said, as if it were obvious. “You would never be with me completely if I were on the opposing team. And I care about you more than winning another national title. So I left Vocal Adrenaline. For you.”
“All right, guys, we have got a lot of work to do,” Shue said. “Jesse, great to have you here. Welcome aboard.”
Finn could taste the tang of blood pooling into his mouth. He bit straight through his lip. He lapped at the wound, resigning himself to an open sore.
xxx
Waiting until they were both out of classes was agonising. He needed to apologise. He needed to do something.
Rachel Berry was the best thing that had happened to him in perhaps his entire life. It ached to think that his life was so hollow that a single person could light it up so completely but he knew it was true. He could feel that spot in his chest where she should have been.
She stood at her locker, meticulously organising her books into stacks as she switched them out for her next period. One afternoon, she tried to explain her system to him: at the top were sciences and math, then languages and English, and at the bottom were her favourites so that she wouldn’t be mad about struggling to get them out. She told him that the struggle felt worth it for those books.
“Hey,” he said, slipping beside her.
He threw a casual arm against the lockers to lean against but decided otherwise. He straightened his stance, stretching his back painfully.
“If you’re gonna criticize and mock me again about Jesse, you can can it,” Rachel said, barely glancing up.
“I wanted to apologise,” he said, watching her head snap to him. “The only reason you were even open to dating Jesse was because I was such an ass. Mr. Tough Guy and all that. I really liked you. And I could have had you, but I blew it.”
He tried not to think about what it meant. He wasn’t letting her go. This wasn’t the end of whatever it almost was.
Rachel’s eyes were wide. She seemed to struggle to form a response, opening and closing her mouth as if deciding otherwise.
“You really liked me?” she said, voice fragile.
Staring down at her, he struggled to reply. Yes. Obviously. So much. So much it aches and he can’t stop it.
Her big wet eyes stared up at him and he felt like a monster. She was so small.
Before he could find the words, a hand snaked around her shoulders, pulling her tight against Jesse’s side. She seemed to freeze at the touch, shoulders turning rigid under his hands.
Jesse’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it ever did.
“Okay, Finn,” he said tightly. “I know we have a big showdown coming, so let’s just decide on the arena. Sing-off, the parking lot. 5:00. Be there.”
Finn raised a brow. Suddenly Jesse St James seemed to shrink before his very eyes. Smirking up at him, so sure of himself, he looked like a rodent confidently stepping into a storm drain. The image made him smile, lips quirking up thinly.
He held out a hand, watching as Jesse eyes it suspiciously.
“Welcome to the New Directions “ he said. “Frankly, I need you. I’m tired of carrying the male vocals all by myself. I’ll do my best to stay away from your girl.”
He veiled his bitterness just thinly enough to fool anyone whose trust was already in him. Jesse seemed unconvinced. He watched Jesse’s face contort into an expression he couldn’t place, as if he’d lost a game of cards but still thought the ace up his sleeve could save him. Finn would gladly wait to see his ace.
xxx
Much to his chagrin, Jesse took his time. He led Rachel to and from class, huddled against her in the choir room and offered her lifts home every evening. The pair seemed to be joined at the hip. Where he went she went, and vice versa.
It aggravated Finn to watch his hands slip around her wrists and interlace their fingers. He’d let his hands slide down her waist to rest as her hip, pulling her tight to his side as they walked. Jesse seemed desperate to touch her anywhere he could and used his touch to lead her along with his whims.
“Dude,” Puck scolded him as he watched them pass by his locker. “You’ve gotta get over it.”
“Fuck you,” he said, slamming his locker closed.
He moved to leave but didn’t bother. Where was he gonna go? He didn’t have a girlfriend and he barely had a best friend anymore. Sighing, he leaned against his locker, letting his head roll back to smack hard against it. The sting felt good as it reverberated through him.
“Yeah, fuck me, man,” Puck huffed. “Whatever. You fucked up with her.”
“You don’t get to tell me that,” he said.
“I’m right, though.”
“Obviously,” Finn said. “You still don’t get to say it. Not you. Not to me.”
Puck’s jaw clenched. The veins in his neck popped flush against the skin. The tension didn’t make it to his eyes as they fluttered shut just long enough to blink back tears Finn would never admit to seeing a glimmer of.
“Yeah,” he said, turning back to his locker.
“I apologised to her,” Finn continued. “Made up with Jesse. The whole lot.”
“Good,” Puck said, pausing before adding, “she’s nice. I mean, totally fucking psycho. Like really off the rails man. I seriously think-“
“Shut up,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“I just mean she deserves the apology and she doesn’t deserve you going all stalker on her.”
“I’m not going stalker on her,” he huffed. “I just don’t like the way he’s all over her.”
“He’s not really worse than you were.”
“I wasn’t-“
“Look,” Puck said, shutting his locker to turn his full attention on Finn. “I can’t be the one to tell you this cause it doesn’t matter coming from me right now. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. You acting like a dick to Rachel isn’t gonna get her or Quinn back.”
“I don’t want Quinn back,” Finn scoffed. “You can have her.”
Puck pushed away from the lockers, deliberately slamming a shoulder into him as he left. He let the momentum carry him backward without fight.
“Get the fuck over yourself, man.”
xxx
Puck didn’t try to talk to him again after that. They crossed paths with silent acknowledgements and found other partners for warmups. He had other friends.
Lunches weren’t so bad: he could sit with glee or he could sit with the team. He could sit wherever the fuck he wanted. He was king of the school six months ago and that rep didn’t die off over night. Smiling through pleasant conversation and gritty mystery-meat became his new normal.
He was sat sandwiched between Tina and Artie a few days later when a tray dropped in front of him. Kurt dropped into the opposite seat with a tight smile. He was almost jumped at the chance of a rescue from Tina and Artie’s mutual cold shoulder he’d accidentally planted himself right between.
“I’m going to personally murder Mr Shue,” Kurt declared far too boisterously for the lunchtime rush.
“Why this time?” Tina asked, barely looking up from her book.
“He’s obviously punishing me and M for joining cheer.”
“You’re in the cheerios?” Finn asked, cocking his head.
Kurt gave him an incredulous look he imagined he’d earned. Glee moved too quickly nowadays. The whole world was shifting around him and he was just sat letting it happen.
“Old news,” Kurt said. “Sue is being a complete nazi though so M is absolutely not staying.”
“Nazi is a strong word,” Artie interjected.
“Forced starvation diets,” Kurt said simply.
“Fuck,” Tina gasped. “That’s horrible.”
“Obviously, but Shue is less obviously evil and thus harder to kill.”
It was unusual to see Kurt talk normally. Perhaps it was the presence of his friends or the stress of glee overwhelming him but he didn’t seem phased by Finn’s presence. Like this, Finn could imagine enjoying his company. It was low praise but it felt like a revelation.
Maybe he did have a problem with Kurt, or at least Kurt’s feelings for him. He didn’t think he did but he didn’t think he was a prick either and that had become readily apparent.
“Why do you think Shue is out to get you?” he asked.
Kurt ran a hand through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear. It was barely long enough and fell back against his face immediately.
“How could I not?” he retorted. “He’s replaced basically any parts I had in group numbers with Jesse and we’re completely different vocal types. It’s like he’s actively sabotaging his own group to keep you in lead and me swaying in the back.”
“All my parts too,” Artie added. “Or at least most of them.”
“What? Just like that?” Finn asked. “He’s only been here a week and Shue’s already subbing out parts.”
“Duh,” Tina said, flipping her book shut.
It was a comic, he realised. Or a manga? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know she was into that stuff.
“Duh?”
“Yeah. Duh,” she repeated coldly. “He’s always pushed his picture perfect members to the front and left the rest of us to fend for ourselves.”
“Picture perfect?”
“White,” Tina said. “Not gay, not weird, not alternative.”
“Not in a wheelchair,” Artie added.
Finn nodded, noting immediately that he was, at least to Shue, picture perfect. The football star turned performer. It made sense. Shue bought him there for a reason.
“Damn,” he said. “I didn’t even notice.”
“You didn’t notice Mercedes getting snubbed for solos?” Artie asked.
Finn sat back in his chair, thinking hard. He supposed he didn’t. He didn’t notice much of anything the moment Quinn uttered the word “pregnant” and Rachel Berry flipped his emotions on their axis.
“I’ve been distracted,” he said.
“Yeah, no shit,” Tina said.
“I’m not now,” he declared, meeting Kurt’s eye across the table. “How are we getting rid of Jesse St James?”
xxx
The others weren’t as keen on Operation: Jesse St Gone. He could admit the name needed some work but the others seemed to dismiss him entirely. He couldn’t blame them: their problems ran deeper than his and into the very foundations of the club. They needed a starting place, though, and Finn had a B- in chemistry so knew all about catalysts.
It took a week of Jesse playing the perfect boyfriend for Finn to notice something off. It felt obvious the moment he saw it.
He was trailing behind them on their way to a the choir room, lingering back so as not to draw their attention and risk being roped into banal pleasantries, when he realised Jesse wasn’t touching her. His hands were waving in front of him as he animatedly explained some anecdote, no doubt about his own talents.
As he watched, Rachel tried in vain to reach for his hand but it seemed to slip out of reach time and again. She eventually gave up, smiling politely as she clenched her hand around the rim of her sweater. Her fist was white and her gaze steady.
The feeling of a puzzle beginning to take form was electrifying. He could feel a smile tugging at his lips as he slipped into the room behind them.
As soon as he noticed it, he could see the holes in Jesse’s performance easily. He glanced in Finn’s direction whenever he brushed a stray hair from Rachel’s cheeks and would often subtly zone out with a tight expression as she talked. He was careful but never careful enough.
xxx
“I’m seeing someone, Finn,” his mother dropped on him like a bombshell, creating currents of emotions rippling through him.
He bit the inside of his cheek, careful not to scratch the wound on his lip as it finally began to heal. He wondered how brutalised his poor gums would be by the time his life made sense again.
New clothes, new furniture, new dad: his mom was barely someone he recognised. He needed home right now and home was disappearing into garage sales and goodwill donations before his very eyes.
“Do I know him?” he asked.
“It's your friend Kurt's father, Burt Hummel,” she said delicately as she stroked his arm.
Any kindness he’d reserved for Kurt in light of his new found tolerability was dashed as quickly as it appeared. It was too much. Too many things going wrong all at once and right when he was getting the hang of it.
He dashed from the room, letting his footsteps fall hard and loud against each step towards his bed. The slam of the door broke his dam and he threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He bit down and screamed, letting his body flail erratically.
It took hours for his body to drift into unconsciousness. When he woke up, his blanket was tucked snug around him the way his mum always did when she tucked him in as a kid.
xxx
His anger hadn’t subsided by the following morning. Or the next. Or the next.
As the days dragged on, he found his anger pointing back away from his mom. He wasn’t really mad at her. Once all his tears were spilled, he was almost as happy for her as he thought he should be.
It was hard not to see the glow emanating from her when she thought he wasn’t looking. Stifled giggle at her phone and tired smiles as she excused herself for a few hours began to sway Finn’s icy heart just a little.
“I want you to meet him,” she said as she chopped vegetables and few days later. “You’d get along.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, closing his homework for the evening, knowing he wouldn’t concentrate now. “Kurt’s not so much a friend as a begrudging acquaintance.”
“Well,” she said, never looking away from the carrots, “he speaks highly of you. You were on the football team together?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged, moving to stand beside her, “for like five minutes. He’s not the football type.”
He nabbed a raw chunk of carrot, tossing it into his mouth before his mom could protest. She swatted at him, shooing him away, but couldn’t hide her smile.
“What type is he then?” she asked.
“The… gay type?”
Her expression turned sour, almost disappointed. Waving his hands in panic, he stumbled to correct himself.
“I’m not being a dick,” he said hurriedly. “He’s just actually gay. I think. We’re in glee together. I think he has a crush on me.”
“You think?”
“He asked me to the prom once… I think.”
Carol shook her head but smiled. It was an easy expression to pull from her: exhausted but content. She returned to her cooking.
“Either way,” she said, “I want you to meet Burt. Unlike his son, I think you will have a lot in common. He’s a big football fan.”
“Wow,” he huffed, watching her pour the carrots into her broth. “So much in common.”
Wiping off her hands, she turned to drop the chopping board into the sink. It was a new addition to the house. She used to cut straight on the counter, claiming the countertop was already slashed up when they bought it. He wondered if Burt bought it for her. He wondered if he liked to cook or if he was rich enough to afford non-damaged countertops.
“Fine,” he said. “Fine, I’ll meet him.”
xxx
The conversation with his mom cooled him off just enough that he almost forgot why he was so angry. As he slipped into the choir room the next day, he remembered.
Jesse was wrapped around Rachel obscenely. His right arm circled behind her waist while his left petted her hair as it fell against his shoulder. She was pulled close against his side, head on his shoulder and thigh pressing into his. Their ankles inter locked and her hands rested against his knee. He whispered something into her ear and Finn wanted to rip his vocal cords out.
“Hey, Jesse,” he said, feet taking him to stand in front of them before his mind could tell him no. “Do you have those notes I asked to borrow? From your old Spanish class?”
Jesse stared up at him, eyes scanning his features. His gaze narrowed and he nodded, shaking away Rachel from his grip to stand. She watched, clearly confused by the rejection.
“I left them in my locker, sorry,” he said, playing along as smoothly as Finn could have dreamed. “We can grab them now, before Shue arrives.”
“Sure,” Finn said, trying to disguise a smirk.
As Jesse said a brief but dramatic goodbye to Rachel, lamenting their five minutes apart, Finn could feel eyes boring into him. Glancing up, he saw Kurt’s cocked brow and tight lips. He let his lip quirk into a smirk just briefly and hoped Kurt understood.
They left the room in silence and let the quiet spread between them as they twisted around straggling students. When they finally paused, several hallways away, Jesse turned on him, expression severe.
“What?” he asked shortly.
“Why are you pretending to have feelings for Rachel?” he asked, enjoying the way Jesse’s perfectly manufactured expression dropped for just a moment.
“I’m sorry?” he asked.
“No,” Finn said, taking a step forwards slowly. “I think you heard me.”
Jesse swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed along the open collar of his shirt. He wasn’t much shorter than Finn but watching him glare up through thick lashes made Finn feel the distance.
“You don’t touch her if no one’s looking,” he said, crowding Jesse against the locker behind him. “It’s so obvious.”
“What I do with my girlfriend is not your business,” he said.
“It’s not even like she won’t let you,” Finn continued, gritting his teeth between words. “You got closer to fucking her than I ever did.”
He heard the sound of skin colliding before he felt the sting of the palm against his cheek. The blood pumping loudly past his ears burned warm as the skin started to tingle.
Jesse didn’t look ashamed or righteous or anything he should have. His expression seemed fixed on a glare that didn’t quite fit his features. His lip quirked, betraying his eyes.
“Oh?” Finn spat.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Jesse said but the words rang hollow, as his face contorted into something entirely unreadable.
Finn slammed a hand against his shoulder, pushing him back into the metal behind him. It creaked at the impact. He watched his jaw twitch in a phantom grimace.
“Don’t fuck with me, St James,” he growled.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he said, shaking off Finn’s hand and stepping away. “We’ll be late for club.”
Plastering a smile across his features, Jesse’s face morphed back into something Finn could only now recognise as a mask. He spun on his heel and began to leave.
“Then why follow me out?”
Jesse paused. Glancing back, he grinned wider.
“I wonder.”
xxx
Tina and Artie had apparently broken up almost a month ago. According to Mercedes it was around the same time Tina stopped faking her stutter.
“She faked a stutter?” he asked, glancing across the hall to where she stood waiting in the lunch line.
Being more present was an ongoing process, especially with so much past to catch up on. He felt as if he was finding pieces to a whole other puzzle while he tried to solve his own. It hadn’t really crossed his mind that the other glee kids had lives outside of the choir room too. It wasn’t as if he thought they just stopped existing when they walked out the door, but he had always struggled to imagine people as fully realised outside of himself and his inner circle. It was normal. Too many people that tangibly whole would make his brain ache.
“You can’t be serious,” Kurt huffed. “Did you think she found a miracle cure or something?”
“Honestly,” he said, watching Tina as she cracked a joke and made the lunch lady chuckle, “I hadn’t really thought about it. I don’t think I ever really spoke to her before she stopped.”
“There were like five of us in the whole club,” Kurt said. “How is that even possible?”
“I never talked to him after the first like… two weeks,” Mercedes said, stabbing at her tots.
“I was kinda busy,” he said, feeling how much it didn’t justify it completely.
“Well,” she said, waving a tot his direction, “you aren’t anymore and you’ve got some catching up to do.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You guys still mad at Shue?”
The pair nodded in synch without a moment’s thought. It reminded him of how he and Puck used to practice asking his mom for pizza at the same time to try and creep her out. It never worked and they always got pizza. She would get one ready as soon as Puck was invited over.
“Who’s mad at Shue?” Tina asked as she dropped into the seat beside him.
“Everyone,” Kurt said dryly. “Aren’t you.”
“Oh, obviously,” she said. “If you want my full anti-Shue rant, I’ll happily give it.”
Without even realising, he leaned in, resting his head on his hand as she spoke. She had a bite to her he never would have noticed behind the stutter. He wanted to ask why she’d fake it and why she’d hide so much of herself behind it.
Before he could encourage her rant, their conversation was interrupted. Jesse cleared his throat as he and Rachel stood tentatively at the far side of the table.
“Mind if we join you?” he asked, shining an audition room smile.
Kurt glanced back at him, meeting his eye with a quirk to his brow. He knew he hadn’t been subtle in his dislike of Jesse but Kurt looked at him like he saw something else. He wished he would tell him what it was so he could wield it.
“Sure,” he said, offering a smile in return.
He watched the way Rachel lit up. She slipped into her chair like a queen returned to her throne and turned to the others.
“What are we talking about?” she asked.
Tina opened her mouth to answer but Kurt was quicker.
“Nothing much,” he said, tight lipped smile spreading across his cheeks. “Mercedes quit the cheerios.”
“Thank god,” Rachel said. “It was really a terrible idea for you both.”
“I haven’t quit, Rachel,” Kurt said stabbing a fork into his salad.
“Oh,” she said, shrinking back immediately.
Mercedes seemed tense beside him. Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she pushed her tots around her plate, occasionally throwing one into her mouth and chewing sharply.
“Hey,” he whispered, nudging her side. “Fuck Coach Sue.”
She smiled up at him, nodding shortly. It wasn’t much but she seemed to appreciate the gesture.
Across the table, he could feel eyes on him. He knew Jesse was watching. Assessing. Monitoring.
Whatever he wanted to find, Finn had no intentions of giving it to him. He could be better—would be better—not just for himself or his friends or his mom. He could put on a show if that’s what he had to do. Let him watch.