Kurt was spewing quietly inside and kept twisting his hands against each other as the train crawled towards home. After awhile he started to play with the shoulder strap of his trusted Jacobs bag which he refused to give up. It was currently stuffed with proof reading and sketches he hadn't shown to anyone yet, he would next week, he would. His iPod had run out of power few minutes back but he kept the earbuds on because that stopped anyone from addressing him. Today was not the day to be kind or answer with civility and that, he had learned the hard way, was not unusual in New York at all so with a slight pride in his mind he thought maybe he was adapting.
Train stopped entirely in the middle of the tunnel and he could sense the collective sigh and disappointment that emanated from the hot and stuffy cart. Everyone, including Kurt just wanted to get home on this friday, getting stuck on a subway was not part of that plan. At least his stop was the next one if the train ever decided to move from its place. So Close but Yet So Far: The Kurt Hummel Story he snorted. So close, but never really there like today's carrot dangling in front of him. He was almost ready to pitch a story about Off-Broadway theaters and their costume department people to one of the junior editors but instead of listening to what an intern had to say she was planning on going to Providence to find more about an organic shoemaker who made womens stilettos from wood. Kurt was more than certain she used that as an excuse so that she would be able to spend time with his boyfriend who lived in Boston.
In a rational thought process Kurt knew he couldn't expect anything from him to ever make into finished magazine but he wanted at least give it a shot. He had spent a good part of last month of his own time talking to the dressers and costume makers about their dreams and visions about theatre and what they imagined could be translated into stages from modern fashion trends and he wanted someone else to take an interest as well. But so far if it wasn't quirky or sexy enough and wasn't going to make it.
He had tried hard keeping up for the last five months but always felt his ideas were too much of...Ohio. Too midwestern, which made Kurt laugh again: in Ohio he was too much everything in New York he was not enough of anything. It was good to laugh at himself, without laughing at himself and Rachel he would have lost it during those first weeks after moving to New York. Everything had come in huge tidal waves and everything was new and terrifying. When he had left Lima he'd been full of confidence which was soon placed into its correct level: everyonewas confident and certain of their faith in New York. You had to be if you wanted to make it.
Just few days after Kurt had moved in with Rachel he had noticed a pattern she had: she would come home throw all her stuff into a big pile next to the door and disappeared to the bathroom for a while without saying even hi or ask Kurt how his day had gone. Rachel obviously found school daunting and kept weeping in the bathroom because she was too embarrassed to complain to Kurt. After listening her for two weeks he had knocked on the bathroom door and asked Rachel to come out:
"I know what you are doing in there. You might as well do it on the sofa, it's much more comfortable there."
"I...I can't. You don't...need to...see it."
"See what? You ugly crying? I've seen it countless of times. Besides the bathroom has terrible echo and I can hear you in the kitchen like you would be sitting right next to me."
Kurt could hear Rachel scoot to the other side of the door:
"You wouldn't mind?"
"Would I mind if you cried in front of me? No. Do I want you to cry? No. But we both would feel better if you didn't feel the need the hide that you're feeling bad."
He heard the hook being lifted and soon he was staring down into Rachel's bloodshot eyes. She was sniffling to a piece of toilet paper and scrunched her nose:
"I really do look horrible when I cry don't I?"
"Nobody cries beautifully."
"You can if you practice."
"Are you saying we should practise how to cry nicely?"
"No! Not nicely...beautifully, like an angel."
Kurt took Rachel under his right arm and walked her towards their tiny kitchenette living room:
"Now how would either of us know how angels cry?"
"We should watch Gone With the Wind again, Vivien Leigh cries like an angel."
"Vivien Leigh cries like Scarlett O'Hara."
"Yes, beautifully."
Kurt plunked her down on the sofa and fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. Rachel took the glass hesitantly:
"Is it from a bottle?"
"Yes, it's from the bottles your dads left for you. Speaking of which there is nothing but water in the kitchen. Feel like going out for a wander around the block or two? Find a nice diner with real food? I still haven't seen nothing but the trains and offices."
Rachel nodded vigorously and took Kurt's hand:
"I know I can be arduous but I really love it that you are here with me."
Kurt smiled back at her and pulled her up:
"Now why would you be arduous, I would call you more of a nuisance or a pest."
Rachel poked him in the ribs:
"Yeah let's go and take the neighbourhood...but we have to get back before dark."
"Why?"
"Dads told me to never wander aimlessly after dark. And we are going to do serious wandering whilst looking for this magical food right?"
"Yes, we'll do some magical wandering right here in Brooklyn, looking for that magical food."
"My magical unicorn."
Kurt looked at Rachel with piercing eyes:
"I don't know if I like to be a unicorn anymore. Not now that we are here. I'm not a unicorn anymore right, I'm just a regular horse?"
"You're not a horse...who says something like that?" Rachel's face was full of horror.
"It's just what dad...oh no, no one's called me a horse." She seemed to be relieved.
"Good, I was afraid I'd have to defend you. I can deliver mean kicks. Finn showed me how to kick someone properly in the nuts if needed."
"To you too? Oh, my little protective fairy." Kurt laughed at the idea of Finn showing Rachel defensive moves and at the same time being afraid that she would actually land one. Rachel could be swift and vicious if need be. After that night Rachel eased up and did not run directly to the bathroom to cry but would more than often join Kurt for a walk or watch a movie or TV together. Still he could sense she was hesitant to talk about problems she had at NYADA. Kurt wasn't sure if he was OK with it or not.
Kurt had nodded off slightly and tipped to the right when the train resumed service. He pulled the quiet earbuds of his ears and rolled them back to his pocket. He walked over to the doors and leaned against the pole. He needed a shower and a proper relaxing weekend. Maybe he could occupy the bathroom and run a bath to that tiny bath and read the latest french Vogue he had grabbed from work.
Just as the train was pulling into the station he felt a hand dig under his peacoat and squeeze his ass roughly. He slightly jumped away from the grab and let out a small yelp that was so quiet none of the people surrounding payed attention to it. He spun around angrily towards the grabbing hand and the owner of it and was soon face to face with a man in a suit and a grimace on his face.
"It just begged to be violated like that and grabbing on a pole as well...perfect specimen for little exploration." Man was lightly leaning in and his tone was dark and quiet. Kurt was baffled and grabbed his satchel so that it was wedged between him and the man:
"I'd appreciate if you would at least say please first or enquire if I wanted to be violated." he retorted with a raised voice and a frown on his face.
"Your ass looks too good to be true so I had to verify it's potential. See I sell futures and I have to make sure my prognosis was correct." Man was smiling widely now.
Kurt felt the train slowing down.
"Well good for you, less good for me since I don't get any of the benefits."
"You could...it's obviously your stop and I'm not in any hurry, mind if I tag along? Take you out for a test drive?"
Kurt could feel his pupils dilating and his pulse rising. He felt he was out of words and out of place. The man was leaning closer as people began pooling around him to exit the doors:
"So what do you say? Do you want me to shed all those layers and show you good times with this?" Man was now whispering near his ear.
Kurt didn't need to look as he knew where the man had placed his own hand. When the train pulled to the station and the doors slid open Kurt started to back out with a bow:
"No thank you, not today." He turned and practically power walked out of the train, out of the platform and station, afraid to look back incase the man had decided to follow. 'No thank you'! What kind of smart answer was that, like he would even consider doing anything with some man that grabs peoples asses in a commuter train. He was getting angry at himself, he should have kicked the guy in the nuts. He stopped a block from their apartment and finally looked back. There was no one following him or nothing out of place in the neighbourhood. He took a deep breath and headed home.
He walked up the stairs and dug his keys from the bottom of his bag. A small unicorn keychain given to him by Brittney dangled from the keys as he opened the lock. All the lights were glaring and Nickelback was booming from the speakers. Kurt stopped baffled by the door and looked around:
"Rachel? Are you home?" Music was loud enough to damp his hollering. Two grey bags laid spread open under the coat rack and someone was coming out of the bathroom shouting:
"Finn! Finn?! I don't need anything from the store, I'll eat when I'm meeting dad!"
Kurt took a step back as a naked man was suddenly standing in front of him looking as puzzled as Kurt certainly himself was looking as well. What was this? Why was there a strange guy standing naked in the middle of their apartment and where was Rachel?
