Ah hell. It seems I've lost whatever document this story was saved in. So all the work I did on it, as far as future chapters, is destroyed. And should I mention, I've got this terrible short-term memory problem? Well, guess I've gotta do what all other writers do at times like this... Make something up! (I wrote this chapter about three days ago, and had not foreseen this little backstory until I started on it.) Anyway, more stuff... Sometime. I can't tell you soon, but I'll try to make it soon. As I have said many, many times before... This story will have an end. And it will be a good one, not a rushed trying-to-tie-loose-ends-together one. Anyway, I know you're dying to get to the new stuff. So enjoy, my readers. Enjoy.

'I never could.'

Puck aimed and drove his fist into the punching bag, thinking over his earlier confrontation with Finn.

Why had he said so damn much? Finn didn't need any of that information to hold over Puck's head. All Finn needed was a nice fist to the nose.

-thwack- another punch to the heavy red bag hanging before him.

It wasn't right, you know? Finn Hudson, what did he deserve, anyway? Certainly not everything he wanted.

Puck wasn't sure if 'he' meant Finn or himself.

He did have everything Puck wanted. That was very much true.

He had even once wanted to be that golden boy that Finn was. It might have been quite some time ago, but he had once wanted to be that social standard. That perfect American boy, that can do no wrong. That could have been Puck. It could have easily been Puck. He had not always been this way. In fact, he spent several years of his life being extremely polite, well-mannered, and generally good-natured, and could pinpoint the moment in time that his life had abruptly changed direction.

He was in the sixth grade. It was January 8th. A Saturday.

Kurt Hummel was a friend of his. Kurt was also rumored to be gay. And Puck didn't care. He was drawn to Kurt. The way he acted, the way he talked, his attitude, his intelligence, his little quirks and mannerisms... Everything drew Puck in. So Puck didn't care if Kurt was gay, straight, or anything else. He just liked the kid. Often he would stand up for Kurt against the ruthless, unrefined masses that did not understand the other boy. And there were a certain few people that simply couldn't get over that.

Namely, the middle school football team, which Puck was a big part of. They constantly went on about Puck having a crush on Kurt, about the two of them having this 'secret relationship', about Puck wanting to 'hook up' with him, and all array of other obscene things. All this started around the beginning of the school year, and finally, on January 8th, it reached a breaking point.

It was a sunny Saturday, unusually warm for January, and Puck was outside with some guys from the neighborhoods around his, playing a pickup game of street hockey.

After a soaring victory over the other team, Martin May, a football friend from the opposing hockey team had approached him. "So, gonna invite Hummel over for a little post-victory celebration?"

At first, Puck had been confused. "There's no... Party. Me and Grant were gonna hang out for a while. Why? Wanna come?" This kid had been mocking him for a while, but Puck had always been nothing if not forgiving.

"Ha, I don't mean that kinda party, Puckerman. More along the lines of a party Kurt would be spending on his knees..."

"Yeah, shut the fuck up."

"Wow, powerful words. Didn't think you had it in you... But then again, there's probably been a few other things inyou that you don't want anyone to know about..." The older boy snickered at his own joke, casually moving to walk away.

Puck's blood was boiling. He'd heard a lot, but this kid was really crossing the line.

"You know that's not true." Puck growled, his voice taking on a vengeance that he had never even known he had.

"Do I?" Martin asked, stopping in his tracks, and shooting Puck an arrogant glance over his shoulder.

"Yeah. I don't know why you think its okay to talk like that, but it's not. You need to stop."

"Awe, little Noah's angry... You won't do anything."

"Wanna bet?"

Martin smirked in response.

That was the moment.

The moment Puck decided enough was enough. The moment he realized that no matter how nice you try to be to people, they'll always be assholes to you anyway. As long as you let people step on you, they'll use you like a doormat. And that wasn't right. So he started standing up for himself. It was the end of Noah. And the beginning of Puck.

Puck lunged at Martin, tackling him to the ground. All that was in Puck was a blind fury, and to this day, he still can't quite figure out what came over him as he drove his fist into Martin over and over, couldn't figure out what told him to slam Martin's head into the gravelly asphalt, couldn't figure out how he was actually standing up to someone so much bigger, older, and stronger than him. And to this day, he still can't find Noah, the boy that could have been that golden boy.

The street hockey boys had seen him, so naturally, the news was all over the school by the next day. He became the hero, who had kicked the ass of the unconquerable Martin May, one of the strongest guys in the school. People that had never noticed him were really noticing him now. Girls that had never noticed him were suddenly coming out of nowhere, with all sorts of silly love notes and gifts.

So, he did as any other middle school boy would do, and took his pick of the prettiest. Sure she was shallow, bitchy, and moody, but she let him put his hand up her shirt under the bleachers once.

Nobody ever found out what the fight was about, and soon, Puck himself began to forget. He began to forget the way having Kurt around made him feel like himself. He began to forget how Kurt would help him through anything, no matter what, and how he always had good advice for Puck. He began to see that being this close, this dependent on another boy wasn't... Normal. So between that thought, and the beginnings of a new life looming before him, he quickly and easily forgot about Kurt, one of his very closest friends.

By the time a month had passed, he was completely ignoring Kurt, who had been the beginning of all of this, in favor of the girls who were charmed by his presence.

And a year later, he finally became so engrossed in his new life, his new friends, his new attitiude, that he joined the ranks of the asshole football players, making fun of all the nerds etc that were not football players themselves. And the next year, on Febuary 14th, he found himself face-to-face with Kurt Hummel, the only openly gay guy in their middle school, as he finished spraypainting 'fag' on Kurt's locker. There was no dare Puck would not take.

He was hurt, Kurt was. Puck could see it in his eyes. Kurt had nearly started crying. He had blinked several times, his eyes shining with tears, but had kept his composure.

"So that's how it is now, Noah." He had said.

Puck's breath had frozen in his throat. His chest ached as he remembered how much Kurt had once meant to him, and realized that he was acting no better towards Kurt than Martin had acted towards him.

But there was nothing he could do about it now.

He dropped the can of pink spraypaint at Kurt's feet, and, unable to face him any longer, disappeared.

In that moment, he realized another thing. Being golden boy wasn't all he had wanted.

Kurt. He wanted Kurt. And now, it was way too late.

In the present time, Puck's fist once again collided with the punching bag.

Under his breath, he muttered:

"I hope you make him happy, cause I never could."

Well then. Some of us may have seen that coming. Hopefully, I'm not getting too predictable here. I realize that this all may be a little vague and confusing, on Puck's part, and that you may be wondering what this has to do with any of the rest of the story... But I promise, I'll clarify everything.