Kurt was half awake when the girls found him.
"He looks dead," one said. Her voice was familiar; drawling, bored.
"He's not. I would know. Look, his chest is rising and falling. If he were dead, he'd have no heartbeat," another said, more nasally than the first.
"I'm not stupid, Mac," the first growled. Kurt could practically hear the roll of the girl's eyes. Somehow he remembered them being green.
"Oh, let's just wake he little twink, Q," a third voice huffed. "He's cute, but we need to make him hot."
"Get the hair dye, eyeshadow, and call the tat place and make an appointment for noon," the first voice said monotonously.
"Sweet idea, Q," the second girl, Mac, stated. The sound of boots on cement made Kurt wake up. He forced himself to open his eyes. To make the break up with Blaine real. His teal eyes fluttered open. He saw Quinn's face.
"Figured you'd be 'Q'," Kurt said softly. "Where am I?"
"Under the bleachers. You're safe, K," Quinn said sweetly. She'd always been close to Kurt. Especially since she'd lived in Mercedes' house for the end of her pregnancy two years ago. Kurt had always been over, watching T.V, doing Quinn's nails, playing with her hair as they cried to the main tune from 'Titanic'.
"Oh, so those were the rest of the 'Skanks'," Kurt realized.
Quinn smiled. "Yup. You have to call me 'Q' now. You are officially a Skank."
"Welcome, K," a dark haired girl smiled as she walked under the bleachers, her high heeled boots clomping on the ground. She sat next to him on one of the benches they had set up. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag. "Dang I feel like I haven't smoked since… when?"
"Two hours ago?" Quinn, or Q, said with a smirk.
"Right. Anyway, K, I'm Mac," the chocolate-eyed girl said in a friendly, if somewhat bored, tone.
"I'm Brandy, but call me B," a Native American girl said, twirling a streak of wine-coloured hair around her finger as she carried in a little bottle. "Here's the dye in the colour you told me to get, Q."
"Are you going to dye my hair, because I don't think I'm really comfortable with that," Kurt squeaked.
"It's okay, you'll get used to it," Q stated, patting Kurt's head. "Alright, girls, let's get to work. Get the hair gel, plastic gloves, and peroxide. Ooh, and towels. Paper, and steal some fabric ones from the locker room."
Another girl, pale and grungy looking smiled at Kurt as she came back with paper and fabric towels. "Don't worry, doll. It'll look so cool. I got mine done by Q and look how awesome they turned out." She flipped her orange-streaked hair so Kurt could see. "I'm Valentine, but you can call me 'Love' or 'Lovey'."
"Cute name," Kurt smiled.
"Also, you gotta be a bitch to other people. When freshies and sophomores see us, they run and hide. We also tend to give them Swirlies, but you don't have to do that. Q said you had to get Swirlies when you were a freshie, so you don't actually have to participate. Just sneer at them," B said with a tired smirk, taking Mac's cigarette and inhaling, before blowing out the smoke in a curly-cue.
"K can be a bitch, trust me," Q grinned, lighting her own cigarette. "Now, wrap a towel around his shoulders and the front of his shirt. Which we'll have to shred anyway, but dye-stains aren't cool."
"You will absolutely not shred my expensive clothing Lucy Quinn Fabray!" Kurt exclaimed.
"Oh shut up," Lovey said with a roll of her eyes. "Look, we'll get you awesome new clothes to go with your new personality."
"Fine," Kurt grumbled. "Dye my hair then, Q."
"My pleasure," Q slyly smiled.
After twenty minutes, the dye had taken to Kurt's hair, they had cleaned up the space, and Kurt's hair was styled into a spikey, swirled back hairdo. Teal streaks spiraled through his chestnut coloured hair and he was trying not to squeal at his new self in the mirror. His eyes were covered in smoky grey and green eyeshadow, lined extensively with pitch black eyeliner, lashes defined with glittering sapphire and black mascara. His lips were darkened with a dark fuchsia lip stain, and a bored look was carved into his marble-esque features. His lips were set into a heavy, curling sneer. He looked, to put it simply, like a shit-kicker. He smirked at his image. He could seriously get used to this.
"Alright, so next thing on the agenda, to be fully accepted into the Skanks, you need an ironic tattoo on something that isn't your wrist, foot, or anywhere that would normally be uncovered by your prudish clothing. So, you can choose; tramp-stamp, something on your neck, a tat on your hip, something on the inside of your thigh, or chest. And you'll need a piercing that isn't on your ears. Face is fine," B explained.
"Uh, I want a tattoo on my hip," Kurt said softly, slightly raspy, as he'd just had a cigarette. His first ever. "I dunno what yet. Um, and I want two piercings. One nose stud, and a nipple ring."
"Hot," Mac said. "If you weren't gay I'd so jump you, darlin'."
"Thanks," Kurt grinned. "So when are we going to the tattoo parlour?"
"Noon, baby doll," Lovey said, fixing her eyeliner. "It's ten till and the parlour is two minutes away. We'll be fine."
"Did you figure out what you wanted?" B asked, fluffing her red-brown hair, applying a little more wine-coloured dye to her streaks, which were beginning to fade.
"Yeah, a mockingbird flying away from a cage, which has a broken and mangled cage door," Kurt said proudly.
"I like it, K," Q grinned. "It's very dramatic. Very you."
"Thanks," Kurt replied, dabbing at his lip stain. "I want it to be teal and black. Only those two colours."
"Sounds pretty," Mac said, passing him a cigarette and the lighter. Kurt stuck the cigarette into his mouth, holding it steady between his lips, and flipping the lighter, inhaling the spicy smoke. "You still gonna get the nipple ring?"
"Yeah, and maybe a tongue stud, but I'm not too sure about that one. Maybe not this trip, but another time," Kurt sighed, blowing out smoke. He heard a giggle and someone shushing someone else.
He stood and walked over to the bushes, where two Cheerios looked guilty. "Fuck off," he said in a bored tone. They yelped and tripped over each other to get away.
He smirked. "Some people are so… weak."
"Tell me about it," Lovey moaned. "The other day two freshmen boys were looking at me like I was a science experiment. It was so annoying."
"I saw Rachel Berry yesterday," Q whined. "I mean, seriously, I'm gonna have to get a restraining order."
Kurt laughed. "She is a bit too persistent."
"Alright," B said as she stood, checking her watch. A watch she stole from Principal Figgins. "It's time babies."
"Finally," Kurt hummed. "I drew a picture and everything, so they would know exactly what to do."
He handed Lovey the picture, which was rather beautiful and delicate looking, except for the mangled cage door, which had dark, heavy lines around it. It was cacophonous, but just perfect for Kurt.
"It's really great," Q sighed. "I think it's just right for you. And you're an amazing artist."
"Thanks, Q," Kurt said, pecking the blonde and pink-haired girl's check affectionately.
"So, you're gonna get your tat, then we're gonna go to the Piercing Pagoda and get your nose and nipple pierced," B repeated the agenda.
"Still so fucking hot," Mac murmured, giving Kurt a wink.
"I like penis, darlin'," Kurt chuckled. Mac rolled her eyes, a thing she did more often than anyone else in the group, and ruffled Kurt's already mussed hair.
"WAIT!" Lovey exclaimed. "We need to fix K's outfit! It looks all wrong with his hair and makeup."
"True," Kurt sighed. He ripped the sleeves off of his blue, button-down collared shirt, so the sleeves looked ratty in the most fashionable of ways. He grabbed Mac's flip-knife that she had been using to clean under her nails, and created large rips horizontally on his dark wash jeans, a few near his crotch, a few near his knees. They were unevenly spaced and looked like after a couple washes they'd get stringier, which would make a better effect. "Done."
"HOT," Mac grinned.
"Oh shut up, would you?" Q giggled. "You look grunge-fab, Kurtsie. Now let's go. It would suck to have to reschedule the appointment."
They trudged over to the tattoo parlour, not running into any familiar faces on the way, which was good.
"Hey, Tasha!" Q shouted. "We've got a newbie!"
A very foreign looking woman, with long dreadlocks, purple nails, and artfully displayed tattoos emerged from behind a velvety green curtain.
"Q, B, Mac, Lovey… and this must be the new little fish in the school. What's ya name doll-face?" the woman smiled softly.
"Kurt," he stated. "You can call me whatever you want though, since I apparently have no private opinion anyway."
The woman laughed. "I'm Natasha York. These lovelies call me Tasha and you may do the same. You're quite pretty, dear. Nice, pale skin. Ah, you must be the 'Porcelain' I've heard about from 'Tana."
"Santana?" Kurt said in astonishment. "You know Santana Lopez?"
"Why of course! I'm her Aunt Tasha!" she chuckled.
"Ah, well that explains a lot," Kurt grinned.
"So, you want a tattoo? To ruin that skin would be such a shame, but to enhance it… with the right colours and inking you might just have the best skin in Lima! And you've come to the right place to get your inking! What is it you want, Porce?" Tasha asked.
"This," Kurt said, taking the picture out of his pocket and un-wrinkling it.
"Very poetic, my dear," Tasha said as she studied it. "You draw this?"
"Yeah," Kurt said.
"What colours you thinkin' of baby doll," Tasha inquired. "Something to match your newly dyed hair? I can smell peroxide on you."
"Uh, yeah, teal and black. I want the mockingbird to have a teal chest, belly and wings, but black eyes and detailing. And the cage I wanted all black except for a lone feather inside the cage, which I wanted to be teal like the bird. And I wanted really dark lines along the broken parts of the cage," Kurt explained. Tasha nodded.
"I can definitely do that," she winked. "Where you want it, cutie?"
"On my hipbone," Kurt grinned. "Sure it's kinda slutty, but really, there could've been worse."
"Trust me, I know, doll," Tasha chuckled.
An hour and a half later, Kurt was gently poking his new tattoo.
"Ow. Ow! Ow. Ouch. Ow."
"What the fuck are you doing, dipshit?" Mac wondered. "Seriously, you're hot, but incredibly stupid."
"I'm not stupid, Mac, I'm just testing how much it hurts. It's a little worse than the bruises I got when I was tossed in the dumpsters by the jocks," Kurt said.
"Duh," Q muttered. "Tasha just shoved ink into your hip."
"What confuses me is how K can walk and poke his tattoo," B said in amusement.
"So, are you gonna go all crazy grunge on your other designer clothes?" Lovey asked, pushing her hair away from her grey eyes.
"Nope," Kurt said as they walked to the Piercing Pagoda. "I'm gonna sell them. Then I'll spend the money on something more worth the cash."
"Like what?" Q asked.
"Wheels, baby," Kurt grinned. "My Navigator just won't do anymore."
"Mmm, true," Lovey said. "What are you thinking of?"
"I don't know," Kurt lied. He knew exactly what he wanted. But it would have to be a surprise.
"Well, we're here," B said, opening the door to Piercing Pagoda. "Hey, Antonio!"
"Do you know everyone in these shops?" Kurt laughed.
"There's only so many tattoo parlours and piercing shops around Lima," Lovey said sighing is displeasure. "At least I don't have to watch people shove ink into your skin now. Just needles and studs."
"Hey! I think I should get a bellybutton piercing!" Kurt exclaimed as a young Latino man walked in.
"Adventurous, aint'cha? What's your name kiddo? I'm Antonio. You can call me Tony if you want."
"I'm Kurt. Or Porcelain. Or just K. Whatever floats your boat," Kurt chuckled.
"So, bellybutton piercing and what else?" Tony asked.
"Uh, a nose stud on the left side, and a nipple piercing on the right nipple," Kurt smirked.
"Sounds good," Tony grinned. "So, Q told me all about you."
"All good things I hope?" Kurt asked, glaring at Q, who smiled cheekily as Kurt was seated in a large, comfortable recliner. He removed his shirt as Tony laughed.
"Yes, all good. I assume being called a bitchy diva is good in the book of Skank?" Tony questioned teasingly.
"Well, thank you," Kurt said, bowing mockingly.
"Ah, just got a new tat?" Tony noticed, lightly touching around it. "Looks nice. Very artsy."
"Thanks," Kurt smirked. "So, mister, will it hurt?" Kurt made a little pout with his fuchsia lips and Tony winked.
"Only a little. Feels good after a minute, though," he mumbled as he prepped Kurt's bellybutton.
"Tickles," Kurt murmured.
"Oh my god, you guys are both so hot, it would be so awesome if you could just make out right now," Mac sighed, practically salivating.
"That's gross," B huffed.
"No. It's kinda sexy," Q groaned. "How come you're so hot but so incredibly gay, Kurtsie?"
"All the best men are," Kurt reminded her. Tony pushed the needle through the little bit of skin. Kurt hissed, but didn't say anything else.
"Okay, and… done," Tony said as he clipped the end of the ring into place.
"Nice, babe," Q said.
"It dangles slightly. It's super-hot. All I wanna do is wrap my tongue around it," Mac stated.
"You are disgusting, Mac," Kurt laughed. "Alright, onto my nipple! Yay! That's such a dumb word; nipple."
"Yes, I agree," Tony chuckled, cleaning Kurt's nipple carefully.
"Ah, cold," Kurt said, sucking air in through his teeth. "Jesus."
"Yeah, it'll be cold," Tony smirked.
"You don't say?" Kurt grumbled, his lips curling into a little smirk.
Soon, Tony had clasped the hoop around Kurt's nipple, which was hard and raised from the coolness of the air around his naked torso. He quickly put on his shirt and sat back down so Tony could pierce his nose.
Finally, when his nose had a small glittering silver stud on the side, the Skanks headed out, Kurt dropping dollar bills on the counter.
The group headed back to Q's house at three 'o' clock, dropping a bag of new earrings the blonde had bought at the store.
"Ugh, fucking tired as a bitch," Quinn grumbled as Kurt lifted his shirt to rub salve on his new tat.
"You aren't the one who changed their entire look and attitude in a day," Kurt retorted. "And not even by free will. I was coerced into it!"
"Ha! Right, baby doll," Lovey giggled. She tossed her blonde and orange hair over her shoulder.
"My dad so won't buy that," Kurt sighed as he tied his shirt to keep the salve from ruining the tee. "I'll have to hide my tattoo."
"You're eighteen," B said. "You can pretty much do whatever the fuck you want."
"QUINNIE!" Mrs. Fabray called as she entered their house. She ran upstairs in her heels and knocked on her baby girl's door.
"Come in, Mom," Quinn said as she laid back on her bed.
"Oh, hello, Mac, B, Lovey, and… oh, Kurt! You look so different! Did you get a tattoo?" Mrs. Fabray asked. She'd met Kurt, loved him, and from then on decided to dote on him.
"Yeah, just today," Kurt smiled. "Nice to see you Miss Judy."
"Oh, it's just Judy, dear!" Mrs. Fabray grinned, hugging the pale boy.
He hissed as his new piercings became squished against Mrs. Fabray's bosom.
"Oh, darling, did you get piercings as well?" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry!"
"It's okay. I got my nipple, my bellybutton, and my nose pierced!" Kurt said excitedly.
"And he didn't cry once," Q said in a teasing tone.
Mrs. Fabray laughed, rolling her eyes at her daughter. "You all want dinner, dears? I'm making steak and veggie kabobs."
"Thanks Judy!" they all chorused. B went back to curling her hair with Q's curling iron, and Mac and Lovey were finishing doing each other's hair in braids.
Mrs. Fabray returned back downstairs and Kurt texted his dad, saying he was staying at Quinn's for the rest of the afternoon and for dinner.
'Fine, bud, but be home before nine.'- Dad
'Kay'-Kurt
He flopped back onto Q's bed, staring down at his tattoo. He grinned. It really was perfect. He wasn't gonna let Blaine, or any man, cage him.
The ripped cage door showed his personal struggle and then there was the mockingbird. The mockingbird was from Kurt's favorite book, 'To Kill A Mockingbird'. It symbolized kind-hearted people who had to go through prejudice, like Boo Radley and Tom Robinson. They were ostracized because of their skin, like Tom, or because of rumours against them, like Boo.
It was a perfect metaphor. Well, Kurt thought so.