~ Author's Note ~
I was listening to Keane on my iPod, and 'We Might as Well be Strangers' came up on the shuffle. Listening to it, I reveled in the fact that a really sad Klaine could be written using it. I just knew that I had to get it written. It's one of the saddest Glee-related fics I've written - not in a way that someone dies physically, but Kurt's soul is as dead as someone who is lying six feet under in their grave. He's lost his spirit. Is there someone who can bring that back?
I love reviews. If you read this story, I'd really appreciate what you think of it as I post each new chapter. (It will be a multi-chapter story, so when you get to the end of this one, don't fret, there will be more!)
Enjoy, I guess!
xo cjclark
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, or any of Glee's affiliates.
~o~o~ Chapter 1 ~o~o~
I don't know your face no more
Or feel the touch that I adore
I don't know your face no more
It's just a place I'm looking for
We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in another world
We might as well
We might as well
We might as well
I don't know your thoughts these days
We're strangers in an empty space
I don't understand your heart
It's easier to be apart
We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in another time
We might as well
We might as well
We might as well be strangers
Be strangers
For all I know of you now
For all I know of you now
For all I know of you now
For all I know
Kurt locked his apartment and walked out onto the bustling streets of New York. He used to see every vibrant colour of the city – in every nook and cranny, in every passing window and around every sign-drenched corner. Now all he saw was a grey, monotonous maze. He used to people-watch as he walked down the street, but now every face looked the same as the next. His briefcase that used to swing in his hand remained still at his side, his face an expression of pure dullness – like he had no lease on life, no desire to carry on. Which was true in a way. He turned onto 39th Street, the Calvin Klein building towering above him, and walked through the doors. He was greeted by plenty of "good mornings," and "you're looking well today, Mr. Hummel." He replied as he always did – with a polite nod of the head and a small, strained smile, though no eye contact was shared. He found his office and collapsed onto his chair. A huge pile of paperwork awaited him, and he sighed deeply, running his hands through his perfected, chocolate brown hair. Being the events manager for the entire brand of Calvin Klein was an extremely demanding and well-paid job. But looking at the amount of work that sat before him, Kurt wanted to crawl into a corner and cry. Not that he didn't want to do that on a daily basis anyway. He was supposed to be planning the annual Calvin Klein Christmas party, and there were so many calls he had to make, people he had to meet, food he had to decide upon. There was a gentle rapping on his door and his assistant Julia walked in with a fresh cup of coffee and a plate of plain crackers.
"See, I remembered you had started that diet!" she chuckled, placing the coffee and plate onto his desk. Her slender frame and beautiful features had every other guy in the department falling head over heels for her. But Kurt had no interest in her whatsoever, particularly because she didn't actually give a single shit about him. Which is why he was surprised that she had recalled that he had mentioned his new diet plan the day before.
"…Huh. Well, thank you," he replied, taking his coffee and sipping it slowly.
"Busy day?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the paper literally covering his entire desk.
"Pretty much."
"…Need a hand?" Now, although she was his assistant, she had never once offered to help Kurt. She was one of those assistants who sat on the phone all day at her own desk, filing her nails and flashing her voluptuous breasts at any male co-worker that so happened to walk past. Kurt looked up at her from his desk and cocked his head to the side.
"What?"
"I asked you if you needed some help?"
"…Yes…yes I got that…but…when do you ever actually work around here?" She then proceeded in checking all around her before closing the door and hurrying back to sit on the edge of his desk.
"Kurt...I heard." Kurt felt his cheeks redden. Surely not – "I'm so sorry to hear about you and Toby." Kurt's jaw dropped. How had she found out? It had only happened that morning!
"How-"
"This is NY, baby cakes. News travels fast."
"But I-" She then pulled out her Blackberry and waggled it in her hand.
"Facebook also helps. Particularly when there's a huge ass status about how much of a…" She flicked through her phone until she obviously came across what she was looking for. "…selfish, reclusive, absolute miserable git you are." The words stung Kurt and he shrugged down into his chair. Tears beaded his eyes but he quickly swiped them away before Julia could see.
"We…he finished it this morning. He told me he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't live with…who I was." A manicured hand rested on his but he yanked it back from underneath it. He couldn't bear human touch at this precise moment.
"Did you love him?" His eyebrows shot up and he glared at her.
"Of course I did, you idiot!" he snapped, standing and clutching the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white. "Of course I fucking loved him!"
"But…you never seemed…happy…" That hit him hard. No. He wasn't happy. He was never happy. He had once been happy. A long time ago. But four years had passed since then – he was twenty seven now - and so many things had changed. He couldn't go back. It would never be the same as it was when he was at his peak – at the time when he felt like he could conquer the world. "I thought people who were in love were supposed to be happy?" There was a time when he had been in love. And he had been happy. He had been the happiest he had ever been in his whole life. He knew he couldn't ever feel like that again. Not without…
He swallowed hard and blinked a few times. He picked up his jacket and pulled it on.
"Where are you going?"
"Out. I need some air."
"But you've only just got here! Have you seen the amount of shit on your desk?"
"I have. And seeing as you so kindly offered to help, you can start by calling the caterers and letting them know that the pumpkin pie is to be included in the buffet for the Christmas party. Then you can work through the pile and see who else you need to contact." She was about to protest, but whatever she said was cut off by Kurt shutting the door in her face. He took the quick way out of the building, and diverted into the nearby park, picking up a coffee-to-go seeing as he hadn't even taken two sips of the one that still sat on the desk in his office. He walked through the park slowly, drinking his coffee and blocking out the outside world. He ignored the gleeful chirp of the birds in the trees, and the distant splash of the cascading fountain that was somewhere in the centre of the park. He was lost in his thoughts about times gone by – about life before New York – when he had been happy. When he walked down the Lima streets hand in hand with the boy he loved. When they went shopping for clothes and giggled about sweet nothings and kissed like they had all the time in the world.
It turned out they didn't have much time at all.
After leaving college, Kurt had managed to get offered a place as an intern at Calvin Klein in New York. He'd had to leave his old life behind because he thought that if he got to New York, he could worm his way onto the Broadway stage whilst he was there. But that had never happened. He had auditioned and practiced and hoped and dreamed, but yet the only ladder he was climbing was the one at Calvin Klein, in a job he hated. He hated organising events for those stuck up designers. He understood that anyone else would kill for a job like his. He was getting paid unthinkable amounts, and it covered all manners of insurance. He lived in a pent house in a top New York city high rise, with a Jacuzzi, multiple bedrooms and an extravagant kitchen. But…having a fancy home, and a top-end job, and a life in New York…none of it made him feel good. Toby, his now ex-boyfriend, had made him content for a while, and plus he had been great at sex, so that took Kurt's mind off of things a lot of the time. But obviously due to Kurt's dismissive manner towards life and how he made hardly any attempts to make Toby feel like Kurt's "One", Toby had left Kurt and felt - quite rightly, Kurt thought to himself – used and upset. Kurt sat on a bench and stroked the warm Styrofoam cup with his thumb. He watched a couple of kids run past laughing, and an old man help his wife to sit down on the bench opposite his own on the other side of the large pathway. Kurt sighed and leant his head back, taking in the greying sky that loomed above. Suddenly, his pocket buzzed. He pulled out his phone to find that he had a message from Rachel Berry.
"Hey Kurt! I heard about the break-up. I'm really sorry. *hugs* Hey, in an act of most pathetic sympathy, I have a ticket for my show tonight waiting for you at the theatre. I was going to invite you to the show tomorrow, as we all know that first shows are never as good as the ones to follow. But I think you need a break from everything. You need to get out of your house and live a little. It also gives me a chance to dramatically hug you when you come backstage after the show and give me a bunch of white chrysanthemums to tell me how well I did. Sound like a plan? I'll see you in your seat at eight. Love you Kurt. Xxx R"
A genuine, small smile crossed Kurt's lips. He loved Rachel so much. But he never got to see her since she became the huge Broadway starlet that she was today. She had burst onto the big stage and impressed everyone. She was one of the most famous girls up there.
"Hi honey. Yeah, it's…um…well, it's difficult. I'll see you tonight. Thank you xo"
Gripping his phone tightly, he shoved it back in his pockets and stood once more, beginning a slow stroll back to the Calvin Klein building, where Julia would no doubt be using his empty office to her own advantage with one of the men who worked with them. And when Kurt did eventually get back there, he wasn't wrong.
~o~o~ To be continued ~o~o~
