A/N: I've always wondered why Sebastian acted the way he does, i really hope there's going to be more of a storyline on him in S4.
Anyway this idea came to me and I just had to write it down, it contains quite a bit of hurt and some emotional triggers. Also some Seblaine 3
Please review, it would mean a lot =]
Disclaimer: i do not own glee, the characters in this story are the property of RIB.
He sets the coffee down in front of him, the usual; black with a shot of courvoisier.
The sweet taste of the liquour running down his throat provides a sense of composure to the young man.
He sighs, returning his mind to the work in front of him, awaiting the entrance of his foes.
The cavalry arrives, strolling in in a disorganised manner; something he sees as common and typical of persons of this middle class town.
The group advances in on him, the latina girl leading, taking the seat opposite before beginning her confronting speech. The others forming a cluster around her, like an army awaiting charge; this time, he was unarmed.
"Let me break it down for you, from one bitch to another, all this vicious underhanded crap has got to stop"
He meets her eye, keeping his face neutral as he agrees
"Exactly, that's why I called you here"
He never usually gave in, he never usually declared a truce. He fought with all of his might; he never lost. He wanted them to feel what he felt, he wanted them to hurt.
But this time, he had gone too far.
"First of all"
He looks up, his expression softening. Searching for a form of forgiveness, something he needed most at this moment.
"Blaine I am sorry about your eye"
"That means nothing to me"
The words were harsh, but he had every right to reject his apology, it was something he was used to, the pain, whether emotional or physical, was always present.
"Just give me a chance, I have no excuses other than a lame prank got completely out of control"
There was a sense of plead in his voice, but he continues on, determined to not let another thing show. He can feel the scowls bearing down on him, he resists the urge not to look up and punch each one of their vapid judgemental faces.
"Second, the Finn photos have all been destroyed"
He watches as the looks pass around the group, looks of both relief and surprise; he had given them part of what they wanted, it was the moral thing to do, but it only makes him feel regret and weakness.
"I want the Warblers to win fair and square, and we're gonna take donations for Lady Gaga's 'Born This Way' foundation"
He expects the glares to subside; they don't. He is still faced with their bitter faces bearing down on him.
"Win, lose, or draw, we're gonna dedicate our performance to Dave Karofsky"
He remains calm, even though it starts to hurt again. It hurts to know that Karofsky had a choice, he chose to try to take his own life; people show sympathy and guilt towards a person who put their own selfish needs before others, a person who still has a life worth living. It made him sick; they never show any of that towards him.
"I thought you might want to join us"
He gulps slightly, waiting for their response. He still feels the stares burning into his skull.
"Wait for the punch, you know it's coming"
"No..not this time"
He stops the brunette and looks down, gently shaking his head. They think he is a joke, they don't believe his kindness; sometimes he doesn't believe it himself either. This time though, he is honest, he has let the walls come down and he is showing them truth.
"For too long I have treated everything, like a big joke"
He thinks back to the night in Scandals. The former jock had asked him for advice, he had just thrown it back in his face. It felt good though, at the time; knowing he wouldn't be the only one to suffer. He could let the guy live his life in pain, just as he was doing, maybe not the same kind of pain, but a close enough type.
He had started with the mocking, then the insults had came swiftly after. He stood and watched as the hurt stabbed away at the boy, it had brought him a sense of comfort.
He looks up at the faces, the trust is still not present. He catches a glance at the latina girl. His barriers are no longer standing, all emotion is now pouring out.
"It's all fun and games...until it's not"
The group remains silent; their faces appear blank, but they still show the dislike towards him.
He looks down again, his insides crumbling. He feels their presence disappear, from the corner of his eye he watches them leave. There was no goodbye, there was no truce in return. He had been abandoned. It wasn't the first time.
"Why do you do it?"
He looks up once again, the owner of the voice is the boy he had hurt. He is the only one who hadn't fled.
The boy's eyes are filled with curiosity and disbelief. He should tell him, he would receive sympathy if he told him; but why should he? He wasn't weak, not mentally; it was the only strength he had left in him. His mind.
He looks back down again, not meeting the boy's gaze. He is horrible person, he knows that; but he just wants to be equal.
The smaller boy takes a seat, his eyes are still searching him. He will piece it together soon, he is smart; he tries to keep it hidden away, but the emotion is getting stronger. He slowly starts to break down.
The boy looks at him, this time his eyes are filled with concern and surprise. He wasn't fully crying, but the tears were visible. His eyes were glassy, he blinks away the tears and tries to return his face back to a cold expression.
"I want you to suffer, I want everyone to suffer"
It was the truth. He wanted his pain to be shared with the world; happiness should not exist if he himself could not experience it.
The boy furrows his eyebrows, he questions him.
"Why? Why do you want us to suffer?"
It was simple, yet the boy was so oblivious. He couldn't carry on like this, he couldn't pretend it was all right; when it wasn't. No one else knew, he didn't want them to know. They would see him as weak, he would lose all that he had left.
"I want you to feel my pain"
He stated what he felt. The boy looked taken aback. It didn't bother him though; he knew he wouldn't be sympathetic until he knew.
"What pain? Is this a joke?"
The ex-warbler looked slightly annoyed. He knew he would jump to conclusions; he was used to people doing it. He shook his head and remained silent.
"Then what then?"
He didn't know what to say; it didn't answer the question, but he just shrugged.
"What makes you think you have the right to go around treating people like this?"
He did have a right, it should be the one of the few rights he has left. He lifted his head and made eye contact with the curly haired boy. He sighed and explained.
"No one understands. It's as simple as that"
The boy's expression softened, he expressed a hint of empathy in his eyes.
"Wait, is there something wrong? Are you being harassed? Abused? Is someone threatening you?"
If only. Those situations were easier to get out of; his situation however, there was no escape.
"No"
"Then what then?"
His tone had turned serious, but he remained quiet. He liked this game, he wanted to make him guess. The boy sat back in his seat, he held his hands up in defeat.
"You're not gonna tell me huh? Fine then, but whatever is going on with you, I don't think you should be taking it out on other people"
He could feel the anger building up as his expression hardened. Why shouldn't he take it out on other people? At least they would be able to live through it.
"Like I said, I want people to feel what I feel"
The boy continued to stare at him, he was beginning to piece it together.
"Wait, is this because you're not getting all the attention? Because your teammates turned on you when they found out what you were really like?"
He was taken aback, that wasn't the answer he had expected. He just looked at the boy.
"I get it, little Sebastian isn't getting all his own way so he's taking it out on others. I should have known. You're nothing but a spiteful, attention-seeking brat"
That stung. It wasn't all truthful, but part of it was. He had jumped to conclusions, just like he knew he would. Why couldn't he understand? Why couldn't anyone understand? Well I guess that's life; it's meant to be unfair.
He couldn't take it. He stood up and swung his bag over his shoulder. He left the table, the boy was still sat awaiting a response.
"You don't understand"
He started to make his way over to the door. The ex-warbler had now begun to shout.
"I do understand! I understand perfectly well. You come here from Paris, you're parents sent you to Dalton meaning you don't have 24 hour access to their bank accounts or to them, so you're not getting the attention you want. You come here and look down on the people in this town, because they're not as well off as you are and then you turn around and say it's because we don't understand!"
He stood still, rooted to the spot. Why couldn't he see? He was a little spoilt, he had to admit, but that wasn't the reason why he goes around doing what he does.
"I don't get it. What makes you so special?"
There was a question he was willing to answer. He took a breathe and turned towards the boy; he was close to breaking down again, but he held it together. It was two words, that's all he had to stay; two words and the truth would be out.
He took a step closer to the ex-warbler, meeting his eye carefully as he kept his expression flat and told him the truth.
"I'm dying"