"Papa?" My eldest daughter Emily, asks me, one night ask I put her down for bed. She's nine now and in the third grade, and thanks to her father's genes, the smartest girl in her class. I love her so so much. She has her father's smarts and his baby blue eyes. However, she's tall like me.
"I miss Daddy, can you tell me the story of how you met?" I nod, I miss him too. He's in the hospital right now, trying to make it through.
McKinley Halls, right after The New Directions did Black or White by MJ.
"Schools out! Now get the hell out of our auditorium!" Artie Shouted at me as I walked down the halls trying to get out of this dreaded hell hole. Why did I decide to come to this public school, anyhow, it stinks like all hell! Oh that's right to get my ass handed to me by my whole team of Warblers. Assholes… pfft! I stalk passed the crowds of "cattle" and stop. Something catches my eye in room 107, with the sign on the door 'Writer's room'. It wasn't something, rather someone, someone beautiful. I stair in the window, watching him just type on his computer, eagerness through every key stroke.
How-how to describe him? I'm not religious but hell, he's like a fallen angel. I've never felt this way about anyone, it's an amazing feeling. He's rather tall, but not as tall as me, and skinny. He's wearing a light blue sweater and light blue lose fitting jeans. Damn, I wonder how long I've been staring at him. "Carson? There's a school boy staring at you, do you know him?" His rounder friend asks him. Shit! I run into the next classroom before I am spotted by him. I hear him yank open the door, surveying the area, looking for me. I hold my breath as he closes the door again.
What are you doing, you pussy?! I think to myself, get up, you're the Sebastian Smythe for fucks sake, men run from you, not the other way around! I look around the darkened classroom and see something tossed lightly in the recycle bin. I pick it up. It's a newspaper, better yet the school's newspaper. And his face is on the back. My heart starts to flutter yet again as I read "Carson P. Hummel, Writer, editor, and everything else for the McKinley Mukkcracker" I take his picture and put it in my pocket. Well Carson, I think to myself, you're my next target.