Chapter 5
This wedding can be stopped. It should be stopped.
Sure, their friends might be less pliable than Homewreckers contestants, and they’re probably unwilling to make big scenes on demand, but modified versions of the same tricks will surely work on them, too.
They’re only human. And while they might not be aware they’re on a makeshift episode of reality TV that isn’t even being filmed, this scheme will be for their own good, Mia’s most of all.
It might even be kind of fun, and Puck was not expecting to have a good time here, given the circumstances. But circumstances can be controlled.
Puck unlocks the door with their key card and bursts into their room, which barely looks occupied.
Between the vintage armoire, the dresser, and the walk-in closet where Puck hung their tailored suit, only a small fraction of the suite’s storage space is being put to use.
But it’s not a room anymore—it’s a video village, minus the monitors.
A base of operations for what comes next.
Puck sits down at the enormous oak desk by the east window, energized by their newfound clarity.
Outside, they see the garden where Mia and Damon plan to get married on Friday—squares of white and purple wildflowers tamed into a checkered grid, with stepping stones leading up to a low platform.
Mia and Zander might be two especially wild species, but they’ll still grow wherever Puck plants them.
It won’t be Puck’s first time putting them in their proper positions.
Hell, Mia and Zander are probably the reason why they were so successful on Homewreckers in the first place.
Back at Emory, Mia was Puck’s point of entry into a broader social universe.
She wholeheartedly supported them in their queerness, so they would have taken a bullet for her in return.
The mild friend-crush Puck developed for her only deepened their affection.
Doing de facto Secret Service duty for their roommate introduced Puck to everyone else: Zander, the boyfriend, became unavoidable—and in the rare event he wasn’t in their dorm room, he was off playing Dark Souls with Damon, passing the controller back and forth between every boss attempt.
Then there was Lena, a lanky campus activist whom Mia vaguely knew from high school, and who wriggled her way into the crew based on that tenuous connection alone.
Really, she just wanted to get closer to Damon—and not for his family’s money, given her allegiance to Bernie Sanders.
What she saw in him was always a mystery, but it didn’t matter; Damon ignored all her awkward flirtations.
The dynamics of the group had always been like a TV show to Puck.
Mia and Zander’s Libra–Scorpio romance was better entertainment than any episode of Game of Thrones.
There was even a certain beauty in witnessing Lena’s unrequited yearning, like waves crashing against an unforgiving rocky shore.
But the more they hung out with the heterosexuals, the more involved Puck became in their lives.
Soon, they were a messenger, an arbiter, and a confidant.
Lena saw Puck as a sympathetic ear and a sign of her own virtue: She was one of the only straight people to come to the LGBTQ+ affinity group every week, which Puck only attended to try to hook up with girls anyway.
Even Damon used Puck as a sounding board, mostly to complain that “Brawl had made Smash more casual,” or that “the Moonlight Greatsword in Dark Souls 2 had been nerfed,” whatever that meant.
It was overwhelming at first. A loner in high school, Puck had simply never spoken to so many people simultaneously.
But then they learned how to maneuver, from brokering the peace between Mia and Zander to giving Lena the tough love she needed on Damon.
They had to triangulate, deflect, and soothe, often in the same night—and they loved the thrill of doing it right.
It’s no wonder that they ascended the Homewreckers ranks within a couple of seasons.
They spent years keeping this group together, which means they can easily pull a couple of them apart if it’s what’s best for the whole herd.
Should Mia actually get back together with Zander?
Maybe. He’s changed a lot. Most of their fights, probably 90 percent, were about his drinking, and the other 10 percent were about the consequences of his drinking.
But also, maybe not. All they know is that Damon is the wrong choice for Mia’s wild spirit, and if Puck doesn’t stop her from marrying him, they’re all in for a lot of heartbreak: Lena will be even more jealous and lovesick than she already is, Damon and Zander’s friendship will be unsalvageable, and Mia could lose everyone.
This is just the slightly more mature version of dragging Mia home from a party before she does something stupid.
You never get too old to need rescuing from yourself.
Puck fishes their AirPods out of their backpack pocket and puts on some music, ready to brainstorm.
Anyone else might be so afraid of committing a few minor sins that they’d sit back and watch the wrong couple exchange vows.
But it would be the greater wrong to do nothing.
Of this Puck is certain. That quote about good men allowing evil to happen applies to reality show producers too.
Puck slides over the hotel stationery, uncaps the complimentary fountain pen, and writes, “To-Do List.”
The key to Mia is Zander, Puck knows, and it’s a miracle that he’s here at all.
In the immediate aftermath of the Damon–Mia relationship reveal, he predicted over a FaceTime call with Puck that Mia’s “fling” would be over in a few weeks and then she’d come “back home.” Three months later, she posted the rock on Instagram.
Even after Zander got his “save the date” in the mail, his confidence was unshaken, but the invitation itself sent him on a spiral that apparently still hasn’t ended.
The first step in Puck’s plan is to simply get the old couple next to each other. Puck jots down “M + Z” in the notepad.
The sexual chemistry between the pair has always been palpable, even during the periods when they claimed they couldn’t stand each other.
Puck hasn’t looked at straight porn since the day they discovered the existence of the alternative, but even they get a little excited by the thought of Mia and Zander fucking each other in secret at this wedding.
Mia’s blond tresses would get all mussed up, Zander would pin her arms over her head, and, well, Puck needs to stop daydreaming like this if they’re going to get through the rest of their bullet points.
They can’t listen to Paramore, write down a semi-Machiavellian hidden agenda, and have weirdly erotic thoughts about their best friends all at the same time.
“M + Z” isn’t enough, though, as Puck knows from their day job.
People can keep cheating a secret for years—and while Mia’s more conscientious than your average Homewreckers girlie, Puck can’t rely on her to pull the plug.
No, the most reliable way for infidelity to actually break up a relationship, as obvious as it is, is for the offending party to get caught.
Which is why the second step in Puck’s plan isn’t rocket science.
In fact, it’s similar to the strategy they used on set right before coming here: Damon has to see the sparks fly between Mia and Zander.
By now, he must realize that he doesn’t thrill Mia the same way Zander did.
Puck would be willing to bet that the only way he can get Mia wet is to take her to a beach.
So, if Damon sees Zander and Mia in flagrante, or even just looking at each other with lust in their eyes, he’ll crack.
“D 8 Z and M,” they write down, with the “8” representing eyeballs.
But creating these kinds of openings will be difficult without access to their usual tools. On Homewreckers, if they want to move somebody somewhere, all they have to do is bark a few commands into a walkie. Here, the marionettes are much harder to manipulate.
That’s where Lena could come in handy. The shock of Damon getting together with Mia after years of unrequited longing certainly seems to have driven her to the brink, judging from her recent Instagram behavior.
This past year, Puck has watched her vacillate between making her profile private and public, posting all sorts of vaguely inspirational quotes and infographics about “dating yourself.” Grim.
She waited years for Damon to notice her, only for him to betray Zander and catch Mia on the rebound.
The fact that a tree-hugging borderline ecofascist like Lena would even want to be with a McLeod remains confounding as ever, but her crush makes her tragically useful.
“L,” Puck jots down, but then they hold the pen in place, ink seeping into the paper as they think about what they can do with her.
Puck is not entirely unsympathetic to Lena’s plight. After all, she’s the one whose future most closely mirrors their own likely fate. If there were some type of person between a nun and a monk, that’s the life Puck will probably be living once they run out of single women to take home for a night.