READ FIRST!
I'd just like to state that I'm nervous as hell about posting this. It is unlike anything I've ever posted on this site and...I'm honestly not too sure about how people will react to this story. A girl can hope that the reaction will be...awesome...for lack of a better word but...then again what if there's never anyone even reading it? What would I do then? So please let me know that you're there, I love hearing from people on here and it really helps with my whole self esteem issue...
WARNINGS:
THIS STORY INCLUDES VIOLENCE AND HATE CRIME, NOT TO GRAPHIC BUT HIGHLY IMPLIED. THIS STORY ALSO INCLUDES A SUB-PLOT WHICH LEADS TO EVENTUAL FABERRY AND I'LL I GOT TO SAY ABOUT THAT IS 'DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.' YOUR COMMENTS- IF HATEFUL- WILL BE REMOVED AND WON'T CONVINCE ME OF ANYTHING.
This is a Klaine story but personally I think it's much more than just that. This is not one of those stories where we are constantly waiting for our two boys to jump into each other's pants...no...this is a bit different but hopefully people won't mind my AU being as such.
And lastly I'd just like to clear one thing up before you move on. Now this story will take place in both 1854 and 2010 [Right after season two ends, during the summer]. It will switch from chapter to chapter between these two locations, beginning in London 1854. The characters mentioned in the sub-plot still exist in the main but are under different names and have slightly different personalities...hopefully this made sense.
And I am not a historian and I've never been to Britain so if there are any mistakes then please forgive me as I am human and do those sorts of things.
Now I do not own anything mentioned in the following story.
Please proceed.
"Love looks not with the eyes
But with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid
Painted blind"
A mid-summer's night dream, 1-1 231-2
- William Shakespeare
Chapter 1
1854, London, England
Life was not quiet…there were secrets and there were lies. There were the people who kept them and the people who shouted other's deepest darkest soul-breaking secrets to the world. There were the nasty ones who gossiped for fun and games. They ruined and sometimes ended lives by simply talking.
And they were gathered now around a lace covered table, with a tea cup and a crumpet in their hands.
"Did you hear the latest about the Gunderson's?" Quinn asked, her mouth full of pastry. Her companions gathered in closer, anxious to hear more. "Well, basically Mr. Gunderson was caught late last night with a certain French opera singer!"
The ladies gasped, their hands flying to their mouths.
"Oh my!"
She nodded, a smirk coating her rouge lips.
Her eyes scanned the table and landed on a brunette who didn't look the least bit interested in what she had to say...how dare she?
"Miss Berry, you haven't spoken? It is a great scandal so I believe you should make some sort of comment, it would be what is polite."
Rachel looked up from her watch. She had been counting down the seconds until she could be freed from this lace and flower disaster.
When Quinn had noticed her lack of interest in her- what she thought was- a dramatic retelling of the latest scandal, she simply had to single her out. Perhaps she would reveal a secret of her own? Their lives were dull as they were they needed something, anything to entertain themselves.
Rachel sighed. "I personally believe that you should mind your own business. Simply because he was in her company does not mean that there was anything between them. Just because none of you have ever had a male friend does not mean that this 'opera singer' didn't."
"But she was an opera singer!" She protested.
"And she was French," a blonde girl added. "Everyone is aware that they are-"
"Savage, improper?" A red-head offered.
"Exactly," she said. The group burst into laughter, the conversation turning straight away to their 'strange' ways, that honestly were not to different from their own. Their ladies there simply got more freedom.
Rachel rolled her eyes. These girls were clearly hopeless! They would never see much beyond their own front yards. They would marry rich gentlemen and pay someone else to raise their beautiful children. But Rachel saw life beyond that and knew that her ticket to getting out was her voice and her talent. Within a few years when she advanced to the lead in the theater, these girls would be gossiping about her. The very thought made her lips curl upwards.
She glanced down at her watch.
Any moment now, she would be able to politely excuse herself. Her escort was running rather late that day, she would scold him for it later. How dare he leave her in the minion's clutches for longer than required?
She sighed and tried to engage herself in the conversation. But Quinn's eyes remained trained on her for the rest of the party. Rachel was very much different and she knew this. She had dreams and ambitions and wanted more out of life than most simple minded women of the day. Secretly, Quinn wanted the same.
She and Rachel could be excellent friends.
Of course she would never admit that to anyone. Rachel was not proper and she was going to end up being a performer or an artist's model. Not someone to associate with and certainly not someone to befriend. So she would glance up every few seconds, hoping that she would join back in on the conversation but she never did.
She seemed more enthused with her watch then with the company around the table.
"Missis Berry?" The door had opened just an inch and a kitchen maid stuck her head inside. "Your escort is 'ere."
"Thank you, Martha. I shall be there in a moment." She said with a smile.
Martha shut the door, clearly glad to be away from the rich gals little party. She tended to avoid them whenever possible.
"Ladies, thank you for your hospitality and I shall return next week, same time, same place?"
"Yes," Quinn said, "we will look forward to your visit."
Rachel nodded to the ladies and exited the room as quickly as was polite.
"Good thing, she is gone. That Berry is an absolute bore!" Quinn called, loud enough for Rachel to hear through the door. The ladies laughed and complimented Quinn for her cruelty.
Quinn never meant a word of it.
Rachel could hear her chortling from the hallway while Martha got her coat and parasol. She sighed, it was impossible to have a friend in a place where everyone was trying to ruin you. Rachel would have canceled these little gatherings a long time before if it had not been for her father, who insisted that they must keep up appearances among the society girls.
After, her mother had fled the country to be an artist's model in Paris gossip was quite common surrounding their family. The cover story was that she had died, blood poisoning, they said, it was so horrible they said. But they all knew the truth.
They just never said it while a Berry was in attendance.
It was Rachel's duty to keep up appearances and marry well to get their family back on track. She giggled to herself. Her father would have her head on the mantle if he was to ever find out where she was really going that afternoon.
"Thank you, Martha. Have a good day now," she said.
Martha helped her into her coat and handed her the flowered parasol. Rachel briefly felt her skin under her finger tips when they exchanged the parasol. Her fingers were wrinkled and calloused from many years of faithful work in the Fabray home. Her dark skin was a shark contrast to her white uniform.
"Ye too, Missis," she replied.
She curtsied and that was that. The only conversation that she and Miss Berry had ever had and ever will. People like her simply didn't communicate with her kind.
So Rachel smiled and headed outside where a cab waited for her. She clutched her parasol in one hand and charged forward, knowing that she could not stay there another moment without saying something that she would regret.
The driver hopped off his porch and opened the door for her.
"Thank you," she said as he closed the door behind her.
She sat down and arranged her skirt around her on the seat and smiled to the cab's other occupant.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson."
"As to you, Ms. Berry."
He tipped his hat in her direction, she giggled despite herself and knowing that he had no interest in her and simply couldn't help but be that charming and dapper gentleman that he was, a role that he had been born to play. Besides, his love lies elsewhere.
Blaine was always well dressed but he was particularly well dressed today. He wore a pair of white pantaloons, with a black tailcoat with overly large buttons up the front. His bowtie was a stunning black that stood out on his white button-up shirt. His boats reached halfway up to his knees and were the most fabulous of the entire get-up. The black leather gathered tightly at the top and flowed down most stunningly to the toe. Once again, she wished that women's style wasn't so limited…
His beaver top hat hid what was usually a mass of black curls that he had slicked up in the latest style. He adjusted his waist coat and smiled to Rachel.
"I simply must thank you again, Ms Berry. Not many people are so open to people, like myself." He said, with a wink.
She shook her head. "Like I've said a million times, Mr. Anderson. It doesn't bother me at all love is love in my opinion and just because the rest of the world does not agree does not mean that it is any less true."
He smirked. "If only the law was as open minded as you, my dear, then I would have married my love since."
"I am sure that they will change their minds, sir, one of these days."
"Hopefully," he sighed.
There was an awkward silence as they both stared out the windows. The cab had began moving and was currently slugging it's way through England's streets. They were in what was considered the 'bad' area of the city. The smog was as thick as the beggars along the sides of the roads. They didn't care that they could be crushed under the hoofs of the horses and raced straight up beside the cars asking for their share, pointing to one injury or another. Off in the distance a large group of factory girls were protesting the unfair and disgusting conditions of their workplace and the fire that had recently spread taking quite a few of their worker's lives.
Rachel accidently dropped a couple coins out the window before closing the curtains.
Blaine smirked. "Your father would not be pleased to see you giving away his precious silver."
"My father is not here and he is not to hear that I am here."
Blaine laughed. Rachel was certainly not like any other woman that he had ever come across and he was meeting quite a few of them nowadays. Since it was around his age that men normally married.
"I know we have that agreement still, Ms Berry." He said.
The cab turned a few more corners before stopping outside of a theater. The horses whined until the driver got off his perch to give them food and drink. But first he accepted the few glorious coins that Mr. Anderson handed him.
"Thank- you, good sir and please take an extra pound for your family." He dropped the extra money into his eager fingers.
"Thank- ye sir!"
Blaine and Rachel hooked arms and marched purposely towards the doors. Rachel smirked.
"Why, Mr. Anderson your father would not be pleased to see you giving away his precious silver."
He laughed. "Ah, Ms Berry you were never much of a lady but always a real hoot."
"Never planned on being one, Mr. Anderson," she snapped back.
The cab rolled off down the street behind them.
"Here is where we part, Ms Berry. Be outside of this building in exactly two hours or there will be Hell to pay and by Hell I mean your father's rages."
She laughed. "Deal then just remember not to get too cozy with your lover and be back here in time to bring me home!"
He smiled. "Will do, Ms Berry have a good rehearsal!"
They parted ways then. Rachel headed up the stairs to where her cast mates waited to rehearse their latest play. Rachel did not have a big part in the production but still enjoyed it anyways. Besides she had convinced herself that she would have the lead soon enough so she wasn't worried.
Blaine however ducked down an alley shortcut and to the hotel where he usually met him. Gavin was his name and as far as Blaine was concerned he was an angel that had come to take him into the light. He knew that he was in love and he wished more than anything that he could really marry his Gavin, he could be truly happy then.
He happily mumbled to himself as he came out of the alley and onto a whole other street. He walked with a skip in his step and a smile plastered on his face. He hadn't seen him for a few days and even though they had been exchanging notes all week, it was never the same as actually being able to see him.
He came across the hotel where they normally met. It wasn't a big swanky hotel. Just a simple rundown place that rented out rooms for hours at a time, instead of nights…he knew that it was where prostitutes did their work but it didn't matter to him. It was a chance to see his love again so what the other guests did in the rooms opposite didn't matter. It was only Gavin for him and always would be.
He entered and approached the front desk. The man was reading what looked like the daily newspaper he didn't look up when Blaine approached him.
"Good day, sir, I am here to see Gavin Lovell."
The man didn't even bat an eyelash at this. He was one of the few people who was okay with the idea of love between two men. In fact, he was gay himself.
"He is in room 134 today, Mr. Anderson."
Blaine smiled and dropped the pay on the table along with a nice tip. Nothing could break his mood that day.
"You can go on up," he said, before returning to his article. The article was centered around that terrible fire at the factory, he shook his head. It would have only taken a few more pounds to ensure the ladies safety and yet-
Blaine headed to the stairs, climbing two at a time, wishing silently that Gavin had chosen a room on the first floor instead of the fourth. That way he could get to him faster. When he finally did reach the correct floor, he had to stop himself from barging right in and politely turned the door knob to let himself inside.
The room was furnished simply. Just a bed, a dresser and a small station used to freshen up in the corner. But one thing that the room didn't have was…Gavin.
"Gavin, darling," he called.
That was odd, the man at the desk had said he had already gotten up here…oh well, he must have stepped out for a moment. Blaine headed over to the vanity to fix his already immaculate hair style.
The mirror faced the bed, leaving the door and the only exit out of view. He didn't turn around right away when he heard the door open, until he heard it shut again and the lock clicked closed.
He smiled and spun around. "Gavin-"
His eyes widened in shock.
The two men that had entered his suite were certainly not Gavin.
"Ah, did you hear that? He seems to have been expecting someone else."
"How rude, I don't think we're welcome here." His friend replied back, his hand landing on his heart in mock shock.
"W-where's Gavin?" He managed to sputter out.
"Don't worry, we're not interested in him. He's hardly worth the effort, no title, no fortune and besides your death will not go by unmarked. When we inform your father that we saw you jump into the Thames well…he will have no choice but believe us and keep this real hush, hush."
"To protect his reputation," his friend added.
"Because that is more important to him than the fact that his son's been sneaking off to visit a little tramp from downtown. Don't worry, we'll make sure it's painless and don't worry we'll dispose of you, somewhere with a decent view."
They laughed.
Blaine felt his blood turn to ice and he couldn't speak and he couldn't defend himself. They were bigger and stronger than he was and were blocking the only exit. This was the end, he supposed.
Well at least Gavin was safe because his life mattered so much more than his did.
The last thing he remembered was the ground rushing up to meet him and the terrifying sight of blood dripping into his eyes.
And before anyone asks...I decided to post this now because...well I'm worried about our Klaine boys. So I need a non-canon comfort at the moment...