Hello there! notes are at the end :)


I'm the king of the great escape, you're not gonna watch me checking outta this place. You're not gonna lose me cause the passion and pain are gonna keep us alive, someday.

The house was so quiet, I could almost hear my own footsteps against the carpet. It was just past six n the morning and I'm guessing my dad and Carole had finally gone to sleep, which is good, they needed it. Last night they went on and on, talking and crying in Finn's bedroom; about how they couldn't believe what happened, how we as a family will get through this, how they were surprised I had spent the day so calm. At one point I heard Carol asking, "How do you keep on being a parent, when you don't have your child with you anymore?", and that's when I decided to put my headphones on, with music so loud I couldn't hear my own thinking.

I think there's a quotation about that, how was it? "When your troubles are too much just turn up the volume so loud you can't remember them?" I don't know, but it's something like that.

Whatever it was, I haven't slept either. I'd gone through three hundred and eighty two songs during the night and I planned to keep on that until either I fall asleep or become deaf, but before any of that happened my battery died and I had to leave bed because rolling around doesn't help. I don't know to why it'd help, if I don't need help, but yeah that. I think I'm talking faster than my mind can process.

I walked inside the kitchen, this time I didn't need the lights because dawn had tinted our kitchen on a vast range of orange and yellow shadows. I smacked my feet with a chair because I can't see very good but it's fucking poetic to say my kitchen was tinted with dawn's light so I'm not gonna ruin that by turning on artificial white lights.

Usually on mornings I go for coffee but as caffeine isn't the best way to go with the insomnia, I go for tea instead. It's okay, I have my rituals with tea as well. One teaspoon of sugar not more not less, a splash of cold milk always on the right side of the cup, and if you are asking yes even cups that are round have a left and a right side, and the tea bag has to be dipped in ten times.

And as we are on the subject have you ever heard the saying "You are more boring that watching the water boil?" Well if someone had ever said that to you, you should be very annoyed because watching water boil it's freaking boring. It makes knitting sweaters look as enjoyable as Christmas morning, but I had to do it because I can't find the kettle in the darkness.

After what felt like two days, it boiled and I made my tea.

"Hey." Carole whispered behind me, stepping into the kitchen. She'd have scared me if her voice wasn't so soft and scratchy. I don't think she'd slept, her eyes were deep red and puffy and she was wearing the same clothes she wore last night.

"Do you want tea?" Yeah I know it sounds lame, but what could I have offered to her? A sleeping pill? Vodka? A bath? Somehow, I don't think she'd have taken any of that nicely.

"Sure." She nodded. "Do you want me to turn on the lights for you, hon?"

"Nah, it's okay." I said, pouring water into her cup. "I like it better this way, I can't find most of the things but it looks like a scene out of a book."

"I have forgotten how you were always looking for artistic scenarios."

I left the tea bag inside her cup when I poured the milk, for some reason I don't need to be meticulous when I prepare other people's drinks, only mine. "You know? I think it has gotten worse since I left. New York altogether is a movie scene, I've even been inside bookstores just waiting for something to happen."

She smiled, but she looked so sad it almost broke me. "Are you okay Kurt? You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I'm okay." Or so it seems, but sure I'm okay. "I— um, I'm going to make you some toast, you haven't eaten since yesterday." I handled her the mug, and turned around looking for bread.

"Just tea for now." She held the mug tightly with one hand and stretched the other to me. "Why don't you just sit down?"

"Okay, but I'm still gonna make you a full breakfast later." I sat down across from her, with my own cup. Silence always felt nice with Carole, but today I just wanted to have something to tell her.

That this wasn't happening would have been the best, but she wouldn't have believed it. I wouldn't either except I had to because the alternative was fucking unbearable. And so everything was okay.

"You know? I don't think I could eat toast ever again." She started, I knew what she was about say. "I see that toaster and all I can think about is his face when he showed me the Jesus toast— "

"It was a grilled cheese sandwich." I corrected her, before I could stop myself.

"Oh right. How did he call it? Grilled Cheesus? He was such a kid."

Was. No I wasn't going down there. I wasn't going to talk about him as if he were gone. No.

"I— um, I'm going over to Blaine's. I need something. I left my jacket there." I left my mug untouched on the table. Which wasn't even cold yet. "Make sure you eat, or I can bring you something on my way back—."

"Kurt honey, it's six, in the morning, I'm sure Blaine's asleep."

"I just— I'll be back soon." I kissed her goodbye, she didn't argue. She was broken. I felt horribly guilty, in the pit of my stomach for leaving her alone but I couldn't stay. I couldn't talk about him.

I love Carole, she is amazing and I couldn't have asked for a best non-blood related mother, usually I'd stay for breakfast and we'd bake because she loves cakes and we'd talk about whatever comes. We'd talk naturally for hours, but today I'd have made up anything just to get away from her.

I remember throwing my car keys on the couch last night. I figured it's not the best place to have left them for a quick getaway, but I'm so cool that I feel free to throw my keys wherever I want like a normal teenager. Ha ha, I love sarcasm. Thankfully someone had taken them and placed them on the coffee table.

"Take care Kurt. And—" She took a deep breath and then added. "Call me if you need anything."

I looked up at Carole, she still had that redness in her eyes that could break the strongest person in half. "Okay."

I didn't dare to kiss her goodbye again, just a shy smile and I was out the door. Where? I have no idea. I wasn't planning on going over to Blaine's, I love him, but the kind of looks I got from him last night were so pitiful and— agh, I don't know I just don't want to take them. I don't want his pity, and apparently he has a lot to give me.

I prefer to drive for hours if I have to. Driving is nice and it keeps my mind on the road rather than, well, in my life, which isn't one of my favourite topics to think about, and I'm all alone. I like it alone. Whenever I talk to people they treat me as if I'm about to snap, I saw it in Carol's eyes this morning just as I had seen it on Blaine's last night and my father's when he told me. They talk to me carefully, weighing their words, they wait too long for my responses. It's frustrating.

I'm okay. I tapped my nose two times on the left, no idea why but when I did I felt a little bit calmer.

I hate when people talk to me that way, you know? Especially when those people are Blaine or Carole or my father, it's like they are complete strangers and I'm just a little child who lost a parent all over again. Everybody feels sorry for me. It's awful. I had gone through that once in my life and it sucked so much I remember not going to school for two months, until everybody else forgot about me and my mother.

They shouldn't have bothered so much, we are alright. I'm okay. He is okay too.

But they do, and I could almost picture their faces as they watch me run up stairs to my bedroom, they'll whisper behind my back, something on the lines of "Poor kid, leave him alone. He is so sad." And I wasn't. I just wanted to be alone, as I'm now, because everybody else is trying to protect me when I don't need to be protected.

I just wanted to be on my own, somewhere where nobody knows they have to be sorry for me. There was the moment when I knew I needed to be back in New York, because they don't care if you are sad or happy they move on, the city keeps going, not like here that time seems stuck on last night and it'll be forever. In New York, doesn't matter what's going on with you, the show always…

Goes all over the place or something.

Shit. No. Where the show always goes on and nobody stops wondering what happened to you. Yes, that. I ought to be there.

I super carefully, hence my sarcasm, hit the gas and turned the car very inelegantly around to the airport highway. I know what it looks like, I'm leaving my family when they need me the most, for the city that doesn't give a fuck about me but I'd rather that than feel the regret, and guilt and lost, every time I see my dad's eyes.

The highway was surprisingly empty, or probably not so surprisingly empty since it was like 6:30 on a Sunday morning. I'm all about quotations today but there was a saying about waking up early, only I can't remember it. It was good, I remember that.


New story yay! I'm a little nervous about this one because Finn's dead can't, and I don't think it'll ever be, just about Finn but about Cory and that is such a delicate topic to write/talk about that I'm unsure how you will react to this but Finn's story touched me in a very personal way so I felt like I needed to write something for him and I hope you like it.

The story is based on the song "the great escape" by pink, the lyrics and music inspired me a lot while writing. (And she is an amazing woman so if you haven't yet you should go listen to her)

And finally, and most important of all I love Cory, present tense as Hazel Grace would say.


Hope to see you (whoever you are) in the next chapters! :)

And thanks to jobelle516 for being a wonderful beta and friend!