Breaks From The Insanity.
- Dreams are not exactly what they seem.
Kurt slipped into literature just as the bell rang, declaring that lunch was over and the harassment began.
"Kurt..." Mercedes whispered as Kurt took his seat by her, he gave her a cheeky smile before she added.
"Not again..." he simply smiled again as he rummaged in his bag.
"Not again what?" Kurt replied as he placed sheets of A4 on the desk in front of them.
"This isn't right Kurt..."
"Of course it's right... It's not harming anyone." Kurt shrugged as he collected the sheets of A4 and gazed at them, at the doodles, the chibi doodles, the cartoon versions, the anime sketches, the realistic drawings and watercolours of the same image. Same man.
"No, I mean, you shouldn't be that..." she sighed before glancing up at the English teacher, failing to control the class.
"Don't take it the wrong way, but..." She now looked into Kurt's Glasz eyes and the way he fiddled with a loose strand of bronze hair that fell from his perfectly moulded quiff.
"You shouldn't be that...obsessed with him."
"What do you mean, obsessed?" Kurt knew exactly what she meant... Just wanted to hear her definition.
"Number One, them." She eyed the drawings he was now clutching, he sighed as he quickly glanced the drawings once more...
"Miss Jones! Mr Hummel!" their heads quickly snapped up at the sound of Mr Rodgers, the man in his early 60's snarled at the two of them who looked back at him with wide, terrified eyes.
"Mr Hummel, what on earth are they?" He snapped which made Kurt and Mercedes jump a little.
"D-Drawings." Mumbled Kurt quietly.
"Can't hear you boy! Speak up!"
"Drawings!" he yelled as he still clutched them tightly to his chest, protecting them from all evil.
"Do they have anything to do with Literature, Mr Hummel?" this broad man strode to the desk of Kurt Hummel, peering down at him as he reached his target.
"Depends, this character could be an original character for some creative writing sir."
"Does it have anything to do with Pride and Prejudice?" He walked around the back of Mercedes before Crouching down the side of him, trying to get Kurt's attention and where his eyes had no were to look except at him.
"No sir." he said with a little less confidence.
"Then put them away before I destroy them all." Kurt carefully placed his drawings in his bag before watching this man with a disgusted look.
Minutes past slowly as Mr Rodgers went on about the history of Pride of Prejudice, picking him to answer most of the questions as he saw he was side tracked by doodling once more.
Once the bell rang, he was free, free to leave school for that day, free to look at his drawings and sigh lustfully to himself, but it wasn't long until he had to return and the pain would begin all over again...
And that's the cycle, for him and most likely millions of other teenagers around the globe.
The ones who get teased.
The ones who get pushed.
The ones who get shot down.
The ones who suffer.
And they shouldn't.
And one day.
Just one.
Hey, maybe even more,
They will win.
Kurt sighed to himself as Mr Rodgers called him over, with that deadly yet slightly concerned face that teachers show you when you're either in trouble or upset.
"Mr Hummel, everything alright?" he asked as he took a step to him.
"Yeah, why?" he wondered as he noticed him glance at his bag, he Rearranged it on his shoulder before his teacher answered.
"You seem very distant lately, attached to them drawings as If they were oxygen." Kurt stared at the ground, trying to not pay attention, he heard this a million times over.
"And the doodling... Kurt please calm them down... And If there's anything I could do to help, then let me know... Okay?"
"Okay." smiled Kurt weakly as he strode out, just wanting to leave this place.
"Hey dad." He quickly said before bolting up the stairs as he entered his house that he shared with the Hudson's.
"Hey, Kurt." he answered with little effort as all his concentration was forced into this baseball match he was watching with his step-son.
Kurt quickly rummaged for the drawings as He entered his room with a slam, shoving his bag by the entrance.
His room was quiet tidy besides sketches of the same figure.
The man with the bright, clear Hazel eyes with the dark green outline.
The man with thick, triangular eyebrows.
The man with the untamed midnight black curls.
The man which sometimes had them forced back with so much gel it was inhuman.
The man cheeky grin.
The man with the plump pink lips.
The man with little stubble on his face.
The man with a light tanned glow.
The man with his guitar.
The man who sounded like an Angel.
To me and you, these drawings and fact files would seem like nothing, except good quietly work, drawings that's had a lot of thought and effort put into them Or a sign of somebody coming to the level of so much determination that other people with see them as going 'nuts'
But not for Kurt Hummel.
These meant a whole lot more...
~ Four Weeks Ago ~ Kurt lay on his bed, staring at the celling trying to make small patterns that weren't there on the blank canvas as he mumbled the words to 'Teenage Dream' by Katy Perry. "So, this is the Cafeteria were the boys usually come to eat at lunch or dinner, but you can feel free to cook in your dorm, as long as you be sensible and clean up after yourself." The middle aged women chirped with a grin as she led Kurt around this building. To cut Kurt's (lack of) concentration, a voice chuckled by him. His eyes snapped up with shock and the fear of getting punished. "Kurt!" his dad interrupted as he stormed back into the hall with the middle age women, Kurt swirled around along with the other teenager.
His eyes became heavy with sleep as he yawned.
"Every February-" he yawned once more, "You be my Valentine... Valen-" he yawned again, "Tine."
Rolling over, he scanned the clock, 11:33pm it read. He sighed as he continued to stare at the ceiling.
This particular Building Kurt had never seen before, the interior decoration looked expensive beyond belief but well planned out.
Old Paintings hung on the wall before leading to many certificates. A grand piano sat in the corner, urging Kurt to at least feel the ivory keys beneath his fingertips.
The lady's voice trailed off in the distance along with his dad's foots steps and his sounds of agreement.
This left Kurt all alone with this piano.
He stumbled towards it, taking in its beauty, its glossy black shine, its inner glory.
Quickly, he lifted the cover and there they were the pure White keys with the ebony keys delicately placed between them.
He simply ran a porcelain toned finger over one of the keys, shocked by how cold it was.
"I guess, one go couldn't hurt..." He mumbled with a shrug and with that, he pressed the higher keys in no particular rhythm or pattern.
"Funny.." Kurt whispered. "They sound like what angels should sound like."
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," He quickly apologised as he carefully shut the case.
"No need to be." He said casually as his Hazel eyes scanned the boy.
"It was nice what you said." he added, as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
"Said about what?"
"About the higher keys," he paused, "Sounding like angels."
"Well, thank-you?" Kurt answered almost confused.
"So, are new here?" he moved closer to Kurt, the so called 'new boy' scanned The teenaged boy with jet black curls forced back with plenty of hair gel, the navy and red uniform looked similar to Kurt, even though he couldn't name it for the life of him.
"Who are you?" Kurt wondered, the boy puckered his sweet pink lips before smirking.
"Let's just say," he opened the case on the piano, Kurt watched carefully. "I'm here to help you Kurt."
"Wait, how do you know my name?"
"Like I said, I'm here to help you."
"Help with what?" The mysterious boy placed his fingers on the keys and lightly pressed.
"Anything and Everything." He replied, raising his triangular eyebrows.
"Wh-"
"Dad!" he shrieked.
"What you doing here kiddo?" Kurt glanced at the boy with the Hazel eyes before his gaze switched to look at his father.
"He was with Me Mr Hummel." The boy threw him a Cheshire cat like smile, Burt replied with just another glance.
"All right, come on Kurt." his dad commanded, Kurt ran his fingers against the cold keys, feeling the smooth material once more and with a sigh, he stepped away from the piano.
"Bye." he almost whispered as he turned around to see his face one last time, he walked off were his dad greeted him.
"Bye Kurt." he beamed, Kurt turned around once more, weakly smiling at his friend.
Ever since that one, this man kept appearing whenever he was alone in his dreams.
Just a couple of Days ago, he had another dream.
Kurt was only doing his morning ritual when he heard this Angel Sing, the husky, yet charming voice hitting every note perfectly. Turning the corner, he watched this man perform on the floor just in front of Kurt's bed. His free curls bobbing with every movement of his head.
"Baby You're Not Alone, 'cause your here with me," he expressed as Kurt now heard a strumming of a guitar.
"And nothing's ever gonna bring us down, cause nothing can keep me from loving you,"
Kurt lent on the doorframe watching and listening.
"And you know it's true, it don't matter what'll come to be, our love is all we need to make it through." his head turned to the side, and to see Kurt, he jumped a mile, loosing all focus and dropping his guitar all in one.
"Kurt!" he said almost breathless, "You scared me."
The boy replied with a shrug and a quick, cheeky smile.
"That was beautiful."
"It was?"
"Yeh, It was like an Angel sung it." he admitted, looking down for a fraction of a second, the mysterious boy blushed.
"Thank-you."
After an hour of hard work and an hour of thinking, Kurt yelled annoyed as he scribbled black oil pastel over the current drawing he was working on.
"Why? Why? WHY?" he shouted and forced all his weight on this pastel, making it split and snap. He slammed his head on the desk, sobbing to himself.
"Why?"
"Kurt, you okay?" his dad stood against the door frame, watching his son sob senselessly before slouching towards him. Kurt shook his head as he continued to cry.
"What's the matter?"
"W-Why D-Does E-Ev-Everyone..." he paused, taking in a hard, deep, shaky breath. "Why D-Does He?"
"Who?" his dad asked bitterly as he placed a loving hand on his sons shoulder.
"HIM!" he leapt up, throwing his hands in the air. "THAT MAN!"
He stormed over to his Wall and lent against it.
"That man, w-who is controlling me..." he cried as he traced his dark locks with his finger before sliding down the wall.
He looked up at his dad with red raw eyes, still streaming with tears; his dad looked back clearly confused by his outburst.
"Kurt..." He sighed strolling over to him and crouching down to his level.
"You know Kurt, maybe this man, is your guardian angel."
"My what?"
"Your guardian Angel." he repeated, "Someone who looks after you, cares for you, someone you guides you and protects you."
Kurt smiled at his dad's theory.
"Maybe dad, either that or I'm going insane." his tears still rolled down his cheeks, but with a laugh at calling himself insane, he smiled before frowning at the possibilities.
"You're not going insane," He reassured him, "Just try and get some rest, okay?" his father wiped his tears away with a comforting smile, which Kurt returned with a nod.
"Okay dad." he croaked out.
"That's my boy." he got up and handed his son one of his bear hands, he took it and his father heaved him up.