Rachel finally brought her full attention back to the present and not a simple picture of a man she didn’t even know. “What? No I don’t like him.” She rolled her eyes in defense, though she could feel her cheek a little warm with a flush. “You can’t like someone you don’t know. Besides, I don’t need to like anyone, I have Jesse.” She smiled, handing Santana back the picture of her pen-pal, trying to sneak one last peek of him beforehand. “Though I’m sure that look in your eyes is saying something else entirely for that ‘badass’.” Rachel smirked, laying back on her bed next to Santana, trying to think about what to send back to them. “Maybe we can send them pictures from the Freshman Orientation that my Dads took. Those were nice!”
Santana rolled her eyes, showing that she definitely didn’t believe her. “You have Jesse who’s so far in the closet he’s chilling with the centaurs in Narnia.” Tilting her head to the side she sat up, looking at Rachel with wide eyes. “We can date best friend! Well, you can date one.. I’ll do other things with the other.” With a wiggle of her eyebrows she relaxed against the bed once more, imagining what it’d be like if they ever met their pen-pals. It’d be pretty cool to be friends with people who were trained to attack. Easy for her if anyone ever truly pissed her off. “Yeah, because nothing screams sexy like pictures from orientation,” she responded, sarcasm strong in her voice. “We have to send them cute pictures. Sexy pictures.”
August 8th, 2001
It’s more of a requirement for my freshman seminar. No offense, but this seemed like the best choice out of the weird list I got. I guess I really am your access to the outside world.. If you want to know shit, you can ask. I don’t know what you’re into or else I’d just assume things to tell you.
NYADA is obviously a school in New York; which you should look up when you get the chance. It’s extremely tough to get into, but of course yours truly did easily. I love New York! There’s always something going on and you meet some super interesting people. I mean, obviously you have your fair share of creepers and psychos but it’s all a part of the charm. With the “dancing group” you’re actually thinking of the Rockettes, which is more-so a kickline than a dance group. I’d love to be a part of it though. I guess it’s nice to meet you, Finn. I never knew that you were quarterback at your cow-town school! I was a cheerleader back in high school so that’s pretty cool. I’m jealous you moved on to other things with your best friend; I had to leave mine.
Don’t you ever get tired of it? All of the fighting and the “perfect” moves. It must suck to not be able to yell back at them. If people were yelling at me, or around me all the time, I’d probably scream something back and walk away. What made you want to join the Army anyway? It doesn’t sound like it’s a lot of fun or anything. That’s really weird… You’re in for it when you come back to the land of the normal people.
The picture was kind of cute so I’ll be sweet and send one back. Here’s my absolute favorite selfie from over the summer. It’s my little contribution for all of the hard work you do. You’re welcome.
Rachel had a feeling that Santana would think her pen-pal was a looker. In reality, he was. He was the perfect example of what an Army man would look like with his buzz cut and hard demeanor. “Well whatever we send back, it can’t be nudes. He told me they read the letters before they even send them out to who they belong to.” Rachel warned Santana, not that she thought she would strip naked for a selfie to send out to some guy she barely knew. But when she finally picked up the forgotten photo that was tossed to her, her breathe just about caught in her throat. This man just looked adorable and handsome at the same time, how it was possible Rachel didn’t know. But she also didn’t care. “Huh?” Her head snapped up to Santana when she heard her voice in the background of her mind again. “Uh.. Noah. Well, Puck.” She answered her in half attention, looking back down at the picture once more.
"I’m not sending them nudes," she exclaimed, looking at Rachel as if she was crazy. "He needs to work for those." Santana stared at her friend when she saw her looking at the picture. Her eyebrow raised as she waited for the answer to her question. Making a mental note to tease Rachel in a few minutes she smirked, "Puck. He sounds like a badass.." Santana let her mind wander, seductive smirk replacing the teasing one. Maybe she’d convince Rachel to meet them if they returned to the states. Shaking her head to clear it she focused on her friend again. "You so like this doofy one, don’t you?" Santana made herself comfortable on Rachel’s bed, laying on her stomach and looking up at the other girl. "You need to find a good picture then.. They’re obviously going to show each other if they’re friends."
Rachel scrunched her nose as Santana’s mocking assumption. “Those he find death as a turn on are people I want nothing to do with thank you very much.” She defended herself as she opened up her letter, even though she knew she didn’t have to. “They can tell us about their lives outside of the army. You never know what a person is capable of.” Rachel told her friend before reading over her first reply from Noah Puckerman, or ‘Puck’ rather as she learned he’d like to be named. When Santana pulled her attention to her about talks of a picture, Rachel hadn’t even noticed the small one there for herself. “I’m sure they just want to put a face to the name for us. Look they have to be friends, even before the Army.” She pointed to Puck’s letter as she looked him over. “He kind of looks like he could be my brother..” Rachel said, lifting the picture up and placing it by her own face, showing him to Santana as well. “What about this Finn character? You really think he’s ‘my style’?” She asked Santana, trying not to openly try and peer at the looks of her roommates pen-pal.
While Rachel read her letter Santana figured she should finish the one from Finn. “This guy called the Rockettes the Rockets. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.” Finishing the letter she grinned when her friend was done as well. Santana moved in closer to Rachel to see the picture she was holding. “Whoa.” She reached out, grabbing the picture from Rachel. “What the fuck! Why do you get the hot one?” Tossing the picture of Finn onto Rachel’s lap she continued to stare at the picture of Puck. “We need to send pictures back.. What do I send?!” Santana started going through the pictures on her phone and computer. “If they’re friends he’s obviously going to show the hot one. Wait, what’s his name again?” She stopped what she was doing, realizing she’d gone a little boy crazy. Hopefully Rachel knew it was just one of Santana’s many, loving quirks.
Rachel had just gotten out of the shower, glad the day was done and there was only one more left for the weekend could arrive. With auditions coming up and classes getting just a little harder every week, Rachel was finally starting to get into a better groove of things. She just wanted a little me time, or rather time to not have to worry about assignments that really wouldn’t matter once she was a Broadway star. Drying out her hair with her towel she watched as Santana made her entrance back into their dorm, watching her dump her mail onto her neatly made bed. “It’s my Dads. They’re always sending me updates from back home. Ever since I told them I had this Pen-Pal assignment, they thought it would ‘mean more’ if they took the time to send out the towns newsletters and whatever else they could fins instead of just calling like normal parents.” Rachel rolled her eyes, plopping down on her bed as she saw the main letter of her interest. “I don’t know why you think these guys are going to be depressing, San. They’re American heroes!”
"Tell them to calm down. There’s only so much mail that you can receive." With an eyeroll she walked over to her own bed, dropping down on her back. "It’s depressing to hear about people killing each other, no? Or does that give you some form of sick sexual fantasy?" She looked over at Rachel, raising an eyebrow with a joking look on her face. Of course she knew her friend wasn’t that much of a sick person. "I just don’t really think they can tell us anything that interesting." Santana ripped open the envelope to her letter, holding the piece of paper up above her face to read it. As she did so the picture quickly fell onto her bed. "Oh shit. He sent me a picture! Does he think we’re getting married or something?" She sat up on the bed, looking at the picture of Finn. "He seems… Okay. More your style." Santana stood up, walking over to Rachel’s bed and then sitting down. "See if yours did the same thing."
Santana closed Rachel’s mailbox and pulled the key out and putting it in the opposite pocket she had her own in. She had just been sent to go get their mail and was excited to get back to the room so that she and Rachel could open the letters they received from their new pen-pals. She took the stairs up to their floor two at a time because why waste time and wait for the elevator, she had legs and she would use them, and got to their room pretty quickly. Unlocking the door and letting herself in she held the letters up and waved them around the room. “They responded. Let’s see what kind of miserable tales these two have decided to tell us.” Santana walked over to Rachel and threw her gigantic pile of mail onto the bed. “By the way, thought you checked your mail yesterday? Why was there more mail in there then I’ve gotten my entire semester here?”
August 6th, 2001
I didn’t know that there were any programs where people could just write to random soldiers. It’s kind of cool, but in a weird way. Maybe cool for me and weird for you? The only people who really write me are my mom and some of the people from my best friend’s family…not that you needed to know that. Anyway, getting a random letter is kind of strange, but at the same time you kind of feel like you have access to the outside world, you know? Well, you probably don’t know, but yeah.
I’ve never been to California or New York, so that’s awesome. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of NYADA either, so sorry. But, how do you like it there? I know New York is where dreams are supposed to come true, which I guess is why you’re there in the first place. What do you do with a dancing major anyway? Isn’t there that big dancing group called the Rockets or something? I guess I should give you a little information about me too. I’m Finn Hudson, as you know. I’m originally from Lima, Ohio and I was the quarterback for my high school football team. I enlisted in the Army three years ago with my best friend, and now we’re here. You might already know this…I don’t know how much information they give you in the report, or whatever it is. Anyway, those are the basics.
We do a lot of training at our base. We have a busy schedule throughout the day that depends mainly on our specific job and stuff. But yeah, we have time to relax and hangout. It changes up. Physical training is all part of the job, but it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it out to be in my opinion. There can be a lot of yelling though. I’ve learned to drown it out. Three years of yelling and it just sounds like someone’s normal voice. Then normal voices are like whispering, heh…anyway.
My buddy said that we should send pictures of ourselves…visual stuff. Sorry if that’s weird. You can just throw it away if you want, but either way it might be something you’d want. I don’t know.
Rachel had been ‘home’ for a while now, so glad that her Monday was over, when her roommate walked in with the same kind of attitude many others did at the beginning of the week. “You see, I don’t understand why you have to keep doing something you know already just because one person doesn’t. It’s like some kind of punishment for being good.” Rachel sighed, watching Santana do laps in a rolling chair. “Thankfully I didn’t have to deal with that, it was just a long. Projects, essays, assignments.” She gestured to her desk, displaying papers and books alike. “I knew college was going to be hard but this is just a little ridiculous for Freshman year.” Rachel blew out a gust of breath, causing her bangs to fly up. “I’m just glad I actually know what I’m doing, which isn’t surprising.”
She held up her hand, as if to say exactly. “That’s my point! It’s so dumb that we all have to do shit over again. Make the other girl stay after class and do it herself.” Santana listened to Rachel as she continued pushing herself around the room on the chair. “That doesn’t sound that exciting.” Reaching for a granola bar she tossed one in Rachel’s direction; just in case. “Find someone to do the big essays for you. You pay, like, ten dollars a page or less if it’s easy.” With a shrug she started on her granola bar and opened a magazine instead of her textbook. “Wait a second. When’s that audition thing?”
Santana opened the door and dramatically walked into the doom room she shared with Rachel. “My day,” she started, tossing her bag onto her bed, “Has been the worst day in the world.” Heading over to their mini refrigerator she looked over at Rachel as she searched for a bottle of water. “This one bitch in my modern class kept falling during a combination so we had to repeat it until she didn’t.” She sat down at her desk, spinning her chair around once. “Hopefully yours was better?”
August 2nd, 2001
Dear Finn, I think..
So looks like you’re the soldier I was told to write. The entire point of writing someone I’ve never met or talked to is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. No one my age actually sends letters. Obviously it’s going to cheer you up since it’s from me, but would it really have made you that much happier to get a letter from a random? It’s not like you get to see the person, or fuck the person if they’re to your liking. ‘magine there was a way to have letter sex.. That’d probably get you paper cuts in horrible places.
Anyway, name’s Santana Lopez. California girl born and raised, but now I’m in New York. I’m a dance major at NYADA… Which is New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts if you happen to be a complete idiot. Yadda Yadda Yadda. Not really sure what else I’m supposed to tell you about my life that’s going to make yours exciting so let’s just move on, shall we?
Apparently you’re stationed in Germany which is kind of cool and weird at the same time. Is anything actually happening or do you guys just chill around waiting for something? I mean, I’m not that much of a cold hearted bitch to want something to happen, but it has to be boring doing the same routine shit day in and day out. Is it like the maze shit in the movies where you need to run through tires and under barbed wire? That’d be freaky as fuck.
Ending this letter here since I’m sure you have something else to do in your little Army boy routine. Adios.