Prologue

The first night of a brand new beginning. Those were the words Sam Evans had used to convince Blaine Anderson to coming out with him. Friday night's excitement was already trying to break through the sound barrier, desperate to reach the ears of young teenagers who might be in need of a good "pick-me-up". Another phrase that Sam had voiced in an attempt to get one of his new best friends into the mood. The reason why the curly haired boy had needed one of those was containing a name which had been forbidden to be thought of during that particular evening.

"Puck!"

No, not that one.

Noah Puckerman stopped and turned around. His vision had started already started to blur that evening, due to the many drinks he had consumed and lost the count of. But even in that state, he would always be able to recognize that gigantic mouth and that kid with the bowtie.

"Blam!" the Mohawked man exclaimed in a happy climax, "I mean, Sam, Blaine."

Sam walked up to his friends, who he hadn't seen in a while. "What…? Since when…? Are you…? Huh?" He was so surprised to that they had ran into Puck, that he couldn't even finish his sentences.

"I think what Samuel's trying to say is: What are you doing here, Noah? Since when have you come back from Los Angeles? Are you back for good? And his mind that has gone numb," Blaine interfered helpfully. Sam playfully punched his shoulder, pouting a little.

"Well at least you're teasing again," he then tried to shrug off his embarrassment.

"Drinks!" The mohawked man wouldn't be himself if that hadn't been the first thing he wanted to do. Even before answering the questions from dear friends that he hadn't seen in quite a while.

After catching the bartender's attention, he ordered three of his personal favorites. He reached for the wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and paid for them. Pressing each of his friends a drink into their hands, he made his way to one of the free booths in a corner of the club. It wasn't exactly quite over there, but at least they would be able to hear each other properly.

"Now tell me! When did you arr-"

"Cheers!"

Noah Puckerman sure liked his drinks.

They took a big chug and Blaine, who wasn't a real fan of drinking, couldn't even trace the different flavors. Yet Sam instantly recognized Puck's signature drink; Jack Daniels and coke with a splash of grenadine. The last was to "take the edge off".

"Yesterday," Puck finally answered, "I got sick of LA. My job wasn't really working out and when I ended up in bed with a girl that I had already done, I knew it was time to come back." His hazel eyes had locked on his glass, a satisfied smirk on his face as he thought back. It was typical Puck, always indifferent and tripping on his ego. And with that, also the perfect mask.

In the meantime, Blaine's eyes were darting around the room. He was examining the different people, all the odd composures and various faces. It was something the curly haired boy occasionally did, observing what was happening around him. There was no particular reason for his odd tendency, he just did. Many questions popped up into his mind, ones that he could only answer vaguely. Would that guy know he's dancing like a moron? Probably not. Is that girl blind? Hopefully. What time would the bartender go home? Most likely around six. Is that a couple or is one of them cheating? That last thought made him turn his gaze downwards. Memories of mistakes he had made started to show themselves inside his mind again. Blaine silently cursed his curious nature, which had now dragged him into remembering things that he wasn't allowed to remember. Not tonight. He had promised it to Sam. A deep sigh went passed his lips, which he was sure of no one could've heard because of all the noise in the club. But Sam had somehow still picked up on it, because he showed a gentle and sincere smile. It told Blaine that it meant more rather than it being a friendly gesture. It was one of those "cheer up" smiles.

"So you're still the same famous Sex Shark." When Blaine had looked up Sam had turned his attention back to Puck again. "I gotta say, it's nice to know that you haven't changed. After all, we were best buds," he smiled in a goofy manner.

Puck rolled his eyes at that. "Dude, don't sound so gay about it." But the quick wink he shot Blaine let Sam know that he wasn't being serious. "Anyway, how have you guys been?" he tried to change the subject, slightly nervous that Sam might start to ask more questions about his time away. "Still together with that Hummel, Blaine?"

The one questioned sucked in his bottom lip, shrugging lightly. "It's a long story, I guess…" he answered, not wanting to get into it.

"Well, I've got time," Puck grinned, oblivious to the fact that Blaine obviously didn't want to talk about it. He did pick up on the kick against his shin, though. Hell, how could he not, that Evans had been quarterback of the football team for way too long.

The badass decided to let go of the subject and therefore turned his attention back to Sam. Now he took a moment to carefully take in his appearance.

"Evans, have you forgotten to extend your subscription to the gym? You're not that buffed up as when I left you." He narrowed his eyes in an acted suspicion.

The blond laughed, waving his hand in a theatrical way. "Sure, man, whatever. You just still can't stand it that I'm better looking than you are."

Puck's eyebrows shot up. "Then why is your hook-up list still shorter than mine?" he fired back, a little annoyed that Sam had stepped on his ego.

"Ugh, boys…" Blaine suddenly interrupted with a roll of his eyes. The same eye roll that girls always did with their friends. A lame attempt into hiding the fact that they were actually enjoying being hit on by a guy.

His two friends turned their heads at the same time, showing him a weird, not-understanding look. The curly haired boy moved a little forward on his seat, hovering over the table a little.

"You both know that I've had more ass than you two have had pussy. Combined," he said in a low tone.

"Alright, you've had enough," Sam exclaimed, shocked by Blaine's words. He pulled the drink from his friend's hands while Puck was trying not to choke on his. He was laughing loudly.

"Jesus Christ, man, I think that was the first time I've ever heard you say a sentence like that," he managed to voice through his salvo.

Two hours later the boys were finally done catching up with each other. Various drinks were enjoyed in that time and combined with jokes and funny stories. All together, it had worked as an anesthesia to each of their own personal problems. Problems that had been quietly hidden behind secrets. Secrets that were about to be spilled.

The first night of their new beginning.