Navy blazers darted from the stage, in fashion, of course. The grand piano that had been the centerpiece of the performance, and to most viewers had probably only been a source of perfectly timed and (in hindsight) overly used piano slides and elevation gains to point the attention to the main singer, was the only thing present to the patrons along with the a courageous single singer. As the Warblers exited the stage, their captain, the red-faced and slightly out of breath Sebastian Smythe readied himself at the keys to play the team's final song at Regionals.
The move for a soft, idyllic song at the end of the competition was a cliche one, but hopefully it would work in their favor. Usually the songs picked by certain teams were slowed down pop hits, sung with flare and meaningless agenda. Everyone could tell if the singer meant the lyrics or not, and even if the said singer had raw talent or show-stopping looks, if they couldn't convince the panel that they also encompassed vulnerability and genuineness, there was little meaning to the performance if only to distract from the team's overall singing and stage ability.
For the last song, Sebastian dug deep. He knew that he'd be singing the final song, because it was an important competition, and, frankly, he only trusted himself to get his team the winning spot. However, his favorite nemesis– the New Directions, harbored multiple members that would be graduating soon, some with more talent than his team (excluding himself) had combined. He vowed to impress them all, but most especially, someone significant in the graduating class.
In a replay of the past year's events, Sebastian could admit he had hit some lows. And lows for Sebastian were like canyons or probably trenches to anyone else, as he was constantly scraping sea level. Inheriting the team after Blaine Anderson left to go to William McKinley was a big step, he had large shoes to fill, and parents and team members looking up to him and asking him questions. One reason he had been invited to Dalton was because of his musical talent, and upon arriving to the school, he was handed his Dalton uniform and (figuratively) the keys to the Warblers at the same time. The first meeting was comprised of him introducing himself and them introducing themselves to him, because they all knew each other. At the beginning of the school year, he had no close friends, and though the Warblers were a close bunch, it was difficult to infiltrate during junior year, especially when all the members had a heightened sense of indignation about one of the best singers in the counties leaving to go to a public school and about none of the actual club members getting the chair seat.
For that reason, along with Sebastian's present snark, he found it difficult to make friends and even more difficult to get his team members to comply with him. He wouldn't normally have gone so far to achieve his peer's appreciation, but he needed it in order to make sure his first year (and at the looks of things, his only year) as captain wasn't a failure. One thing the Warblers did seem to enjoy was scandal and blackmail, they liked winning and winning the dirty way, and seeing as though almost every student's parents were some branch of politician, it didn't surprise Sebastian, as he was all the same. Sebastian came up with plenty of bad ideas to get other schools in their county out of the race. Espionage was the preferred method, but he recalled that one Warbler had a job at a guitar store and would routinely sell the wrong strings or tune a guitar just a little too much if they mentioned Glee club while they were in his presence.
Spying and blackmail were, however, the most elite and resourceful methods, and the opportunity to blackmail the New Directions had always been an option, but between the pressure to impress and the pressure to win, Sebastian made it an obligation. There were, obviously, many ways to go about it. He could make friends with Finn and hope the giant oaf would spill some secrets with him while… working out? He could go drinking and on a sex rampage with Puckerman– that could work. He could try to get between Blaine and Kurt, and though he'd had a few conversations with the former, that relationship seemed stable, and even if it wasn't, Blaine would see right through his bullshit. The team pinpointed and defined almost every member of the club (except Tina Blowen-Wang because there was no information about her anywhere), and finally settled on someone that, seemingly, didn't have that many close friendships in the clubs, was a bit naive, and could easily be seduced.
"It looks like her and Quinn Fabray were friends back during… freshman year, but they haven't posted anything together since then. A competition photo at sectionals and that's all,' one of the Warblers said, scrolling down the member's profile.
Mercedes Jones. Social pariah, glee club pariah, and holy daughter. She posted a lot of Bible scriptures and seemed to condemn pre-martial sex, only going to church on Easter and Christmas, and, if Sebastian was thorough, couples kissing in the hallways too. She'd never had a boyfriend, had less than 100 followers, and some of the New Directions (which she quoted was 'life' in her bio) didn't even follow her back. She seemed unpopular and utterly achievable.
"Alright, so who's doing the deed?" Sebastian asked, the settled proposition was to seduce, conquer, and gain all the information from Mercedes that she would willingly spill. A girl of her naivety would, as he assumed, easily give in and that would be a win for the team. The only difficulty was finding someone with enough charm and charisma to go far enough without being shut down immediately, and with most of the guys finding her unattractive or themselves insufficient, the job was quickly pushed off to the team's captain, and Sebastian found himself sitting in a mall on a Sunday afternoon, having heard the news, or better said, read the tweet that Mercedes would be there. He was more than confident in himself, but he could read people, and he wasn't sure that he would be Mercedes's type. In his opinion, it would have nothing to do with him if she wasn't attracted, but seeing his doubts almost immediately, he made it a priority to win over the girl.
Lounging around in the food court, he beamed when he finally saw the young woman walking towards him, or for a better perspective, leaving the mall completely. Coming off stronger than he had intended, Sebastian lept from his seat and found himself pushing and apologizing to many people as he rounded near Mercedes. When he arrived to her, he was flush, but he spoke before she got the opportunity. "Sebastian Smythe,' he introduced himself with a handshake.
The girl, completely skeptical, donned a taut lip immediately and shook his hand reluctantly. "I know exactly who you are, Smythe." And so, it began. He had to almost force her to let him walk her to her car, but Sebastian knew that flattery went the distance and never lessened up with comments about her singing to her figure. So much so that Mercedes eventually implored, "I thought you were gay."
Scoffing, Sebastian closed Mercedes's door as she got in her car and crossed his arms. "It seems like no one in Ohio has ever heard of bisexuality, liberalism, objectivism, or intelligence,' noting that Mercedes scrunched her nose at the last part, Sebastian continued talking quickly to clear the air. "I like guys and girls, Mercedes. Seeing as though I go to an all-boy school and am moderately petrified to go out anywhere in public in this town, my options are a little more male than I prefer, but I do like women. I can admire your singing, your stage presence, and if it pleases you, I think you've got a great figure. One that I think-k-k could look good next to mine,' she scoffed again.
"No, I'm serious. – All jokes aside, I'm a serious guy. I'd like to see you, hostility about singing clubs and high school pettiness aside." He wasn't sure about what she'd heard about him or what she would hear, but her eyes beamed at the idea of a date before washing away with general skepticism.
"Is this a joke?" She implored immediately, much to Sebastian's chagrin. He pulled out his phone at just the same time to swap numbers with her and promised to text her that night. He could admit, fully, that he hated the concept that she was insecure in the idea that anyone could have a crush on her or him for specification. Maybe it was a compliment, that she saw him as out of her league, but he knew the general anxiety of rejection and the indignation of falsehoods, which was probably the worst gift he gave her– empathy.
Their hanging out, at her bidding, started out vastly platonic. Sebastian was, admittedly, flirtatious. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Mercedes that he thought her shape was phenomenal, and it was more than easy to find himself running his hand along her thigh, and she'd let him, but no further. After a sticky situation caught him in his boxers and her flustered with a damp palm on his chest, Mercedes made Sebastian swore that they'd only kiss, maybe make out, and nothing else. He swore, grudgingly, but made her promise that she wouldn't tell anyone about them being together. By her quick agreement, Sebastian theorized that Mercedes must have been reluctant to let anyone know she was dating or seeing the enemy in the first place. As for Sebastian, the Warblers constantly asked for updates, and he was happy to give them. It took him longer than he liked to start to provide information about the New Directions, because Mercedes, appreciatively, was loyal and true in the sense.
It wasn't always Sebastian's dream to spend time with her, he had other requirements and other birds that were willing to satisfy his sexual needs where Mercedes relented, and she had more emotional needs than he preferred to attend to. Though all that was true, and he couldn't ever suggest that he had been loyal to her or that he had ever planned to be, he enjoyed her company, because she was one of his only friends in Lima, and, possibly, the only person who'd ever cared about his genuine well-being. He never had to ask her how she was doing to get the same response nor did he feel pressured to send the text first. She never pushed him too hard, but she pushed him to be better, and sooner than later, he found himself building a dependency that he, surprisingly, didn't share with his teammates. He continued to gather information about the New Directions, just from when they were practicing to what songs they were singing, but he did his best to keep his spying and his, for lack of better words, relationship separate. Sebastian didn't want to admit how much Mercedes had won him over, but it was always present what his original mission was. Basking in what he assumed was his first glimpse at love or something along those lines, he hoped that he'd never have to look her in the eyes and tell her that it had all been a part of the plan.
The keys on the piano lacked depth, Sebastian grazing his fingers over the black keys, trying to get a feel for the instrument's texture. Breathing deeply, he remembered spending the afternoon with Mercedes the night before, she'd let him see her outfit for the New Direction's performance the next day: a long sleeve navy top with a short white skirt. Her hair was wavy along her chest, and she declined from wearing the 'death-defying' heels that she'd have to dance in the next day. She was, ultimately, lovely, he convinced her, pushing some of her hair behind her ears as he commanded that she show him a few moves.
Breathing softly into the microphone, Sebastian pondered making a dedication momentarily– he wasn't sure if it'd make his song seem more genuine or not.
"I'd like to dedicate this song to all the people here who found what they were looking for when they weren't searching,' he gulped. "As intense and scary as that treasure is, it's only in our best judgement to hold onto it as long as the universe allows."
The crowd gave a dry clap as Sebastian began to play.
'Can't say how the days will unfold,
Can't change what the future may hold.
But, I want you in it,
Every hour, every minute,'
Making a small pattern along her thumb, Sebastian ran his own across her's. She lay on her own bed, her hair frayed along her purple comforter as she counted, or tried, the specks on her ceiling. He was, somewhat, tangled in her, with no clear definition on where she began, and he ended, and like a well-oiled machine, they brothe at the same time and exhaled at the same time, sighed at once, and opened their mouths to speak before closing them and maintaining the silence like they were one entity alone. It wasn't Sebastian's ideal of a dream date, and he'd felt Mercedes attempting to compensate the entire day with extra kisses and suggestions of card games. She wanted to keep him entertained, for her it felt like a constant battle to hold him down. He didn't work to assuage her fervor, as he was appreciative of the extra affection. Their original plan was to meet at Mercedes's house and drive to a theme park a few hours away, but the weather had taken an unexpected turn and all the power in Lima had gone out for hours, and very soon they were in Mercedes's room, listening to the thunder and counting specks on her ceiling when the lightning lit up the room. It wasn't romantic or nice, in fact he'd felt a deep knot of disappointment about the rain, but laying together on the bed was the right alternative, feeling so close together, he could hear her heart beating. Neither of them said anything except sharing a kiss or two every once in awhile, and after some time, it felt so perfect, that Sebastian was surprised he hadn't planned the floodgates to open and pour out as they had.
'This world can race by far too fast.
Hard to see while it's all flying past.
But, it's clear now,'
"Are you okay?" Mercedes asked somewhat unsympathetically, more than likely because she'd never seen her boyfriend, that was what she called him now, in such a fragile position. She'd never seen him cry, or worry, or stress, or even feel so much as out of place. Dinner at his house had started out completely amicable, but after a few hours, and a few drinks from both parties, Tierney Smythe had excused herself, her daughter, and Mercedes from the room to begin cleaning up and putting food away. Sebastian had an older sister, Savannah, who told Mercedes all about baby Sebastian and a neat pair of sunglasses he'd worn everywhere for exactly two years. They were overcome in giggles before the three women halted after hearing a loud crash and yelling from the dining hall, Tierney simply shaking her head and covering her mouth with a napkin. Mercedes asked if everything was okay, but Savannah darted towards the noise before Mercedes got an answer, and, frankly, the latter didn't feel like it was her place to go and solve the Smythe's family problems. That, along with the fact that the house was so huge, she didn't think she could find her way back to the eating room. A few minutes later, she heard pacing from a few feet away, and snuck into a corridor where she found Sebastian, then sitting on a bench, his leg shaking violently, and his head in his hands.
At first, she ultimately regretted, she giggled a bit at the altercation previously. That's what she knew him to do, laugh at things, and make a joke about his 'psychotic' family. He didn't laugh that time though, didn't even look up to acknowledge her being, just kept running those fragile, long fingers through his hair and shaking his legs uncontrollably. Mercedes's demeanor changed immediately as she rushed over to hold the boy, wrapping her arms around his back and kissing his temple.
"I'm sorry,' she admitted quickly. "I didn't– I'm sorry, Seb. I don't know what happened, but you can spend the night at my place, okay? If you don't want to be here, just let me know,' then he cried harder, finally letting out an audible croak that time. His posture lessened and he holstered himself by his knees flat with his thighs. He spoke a few minutes after, forcibly holding back tears and clearing his throat, still wrapped up by Mercedes's arms.
"I'm glad you're here, okay?,' he assured her. "I just.. things get really toxic here, I don't tell anyone, because I don't want the pity of being the rich kid with shitty parents,' he talked with a level of spite she had yet known. "He drinks, my mom drinks, my sister drinks. Hell, you know I drink,' he laughed bitterly. "Everyone just channels it differently, and I'm not usually gooey, but,' he turned to face Mercedes, cupping her cheeks with open palm, his eyes still red. "I'm really fucking glad I found you, I just..' he bit the words back, knowing he'd regret it when his sobriety restored itself, he touched their foreheads. "I fucking love you like no one else, Jones. What'd you do to me?"
'When you're standing here now.
I am meant to be wherever you are next to me.'
"You're canceling practice again?' an audacious Warbler blurted, freezing and blushing red when Sebastian turned his gaze to him almost immediately. The underclassman stood in his blue blazer and visibly attempted to hide behind some of his peers, and succeeded, as Sebastian began to note the growing discontent in the room.
"Yes, I'm canceling practice again, smart ass. Do you have a problem with that or is there something you'd like to add in addition, because I'm sure myself and everyone else in this room would like to hear you spill the tirade you've been planning to hand me head-in-ass for the past thirteen hours? Let it go, I know you've rehearsed it plenty of times, call me out on my bullshit."
"Sebastian,' another one of the Warbler's interjected, pushing the one who spoke first back with his hand. "I think all he's trying to say is that you've canceled four times this week. We don't have forever to practice. Regionals is in a month."
The circle around Sebastian grew smaller as he finished packing his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder; he knew it was overtly disrespectful to the whole to wait until they all gathered for practice to announce that he was cancelling practice, but it gave them all less time to question him as he always did his best to slip out of the classroom almost immediately. That day, however, they'd came prepared to give him a hassle about canceling three, then four, days in a row.
"Here's how this is going to go,' he began, swiping at his nose and putting his hands in his pockets after. "I'm not holding practice today, let's be honest- I'm probably not holding practice tomorrow. Now, if you all want to stand in here, read sheet music, and sing a song, don't let me hold you back. But if you,' he poked his head around to focus on the catalyst of the sedition, "or anyone else else in this club, or any other club for that matter, any other organization, any other social construct, try to usurp me or undermine me in anyway ever again, you will be out of this club, and that's a start.
"Now, if you'd all excuse me, I…' he hesitated, opting for a reference he didn't expect any of them to understand, "have some tapes to return." The boys opened a path to let their captain out, and though he heard one suck his teeth, Sebastian left the room without saying anything else. His car was parked near the front entrance, and it took him no time to settle in, turn on music, and start down the beaten path. She lived about thirty minutes from him, but the drive was a good opportunity to listen to music and let the wind blow through his hair- Sebastian's only concern was how often he had to refill his tank while making the daily drive to Mercedes's home, not that he was at a loss for money, but he hated having to frequent any gas station, let alone the ones in Lima.
Upon arriving to the brick plastered three-story that was the Jones residence, Sebastian sent Mercedes a text message, letting her know he was outside. They met each other at the door at the same time, Mercedes bundled up in a blanket, bonnet, house shoes, and a runny nose. Chuckling at her appearance, Sebastian glided through the door, so that she wouldn't have to brave the winter weather for longer than what was needed. "I swear, you're cuter each time I see you,' he admitted walking around to her living room and sitting in the arm chair adjacent to the couch Mercedes occupied with blankets, tissues, and a box of ice cream.
"I'm closer to dying each time you see me– I thought you were bringing soup."
Sebastian shrugged, his elbows on his knees as he surveyed the room. "It was a joke, babe. Soup doesn't help colds, it's more like a principle thing. I thought my presence would be of equal significance."
Mercedes produced a dry laugh that translated into a few coughs, "Your presence is nice. Soup would be better."
"I brought you candy on Monday, flowers on Tuesday, like– Taco Bell– yesterday? I swear, you want me poor. You'd probably like me unable, too, as yourself."
"Poor? No. Unable? No."
"Unable? Yeah… so you can have your wicked way with me, I see through you, Jones,' Sebastian joked, standing to tower over the girl, before sitting beside her and enveloping her on the couch. Mercedes dodged neck kisses and tickling from the boy, while turning her head away from him.
"No, I'm sick,' she laughed in a hoarse voice as he lathered her with affection.
'All I want to do,
Is come runnin' home to you,
Come runnin' home to you,'
Sebastian didn't have many friends in Ohio, but he could probably convince himself that Trent was one of them. He was the only member of the Warblers who hadn't given him the cold shoulder upon arrival, more than likely because he had never been quite accepted himself, but Sebastian didn't ridicule the boy on his shortcomings, because, as it was, Trent was perhaps his closest friend and only friend at Dalton. Admittedly, both had a violently nonchalant attitude about the Warblers when not with the Warblers, and their conversations usually drifted along the lines of the latest party, trivial drama, and homework. However, Trent liked to indulge about crushes and love interests, and though Sebastian feigned interest, he never offered insight of his own, as his relationships were usually completely shallow and completely sexual.
"Sometimes you just meet a person who feels like home,' Trent rambled, playing with his nails, his wide fingers wrapped around a coffee cup. "Psychologically, that feels like an important concept, since people like us come from shitty families that act like their mission in life is to make the home into the least welcoming place on earth,' Sebastian nodded in agreement.
"I definitely,' Sebastian hesitated for a second and rubbed his chin. "Know what you mean."
"You do?' Trent asked excitedly, as Sebastian never necessarily admitted that he related with or even understood the things that Trent said.
"Yeah,' Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not head over heels or anything, so don't get worked up." In truth, he wasn't. He'd done his best to resist falling for Mercedes, and he hypothesized that perhaps working so hard to avoid something had been his downfall. He didn't think that developing genuine feelings would ever be a problem, he'd pointed out many times to his peers that she just wasn't his 'type'. Somewhere along the lines of hanging out and texting, he'd found himself extending more and more olive branches, and searching for her approval with more extension than ever before. She, surprisingly, wasn't one to be won over easily, and he imagined that the chase had added to his appeal. He had done so much to win her over and impress her, that he'd in turn been the one impressed and won over– he was monumentally captivated, a feeling he hadn't achieved in Lima yet. She was nice in a way that most people weren't, sincerely kind. She was comical without being harsh, she was quiet when he was loud, and outspoken when he was meek. She was clean and pure in every way, and perhaps she had faked it, but she had seemed perfectly uninterested in Sebastian and perfectly fine with living a life without him, and that was the itch he couldn't scratch. She was the one he had to have, had to impress, had to make love him.
"I do know what you mean, though. I've never met anyone who gave me an emotional safety,' he crossed his arms. "It's odd, you know? Experiencing romance in the way that people dream and write about, it's way too surreal. I've got this massive feeling on my chest that I'm watching it ride for now, and sooner or later, it's going to crash in a way that I can't come back from. I think that's why people push other people away, I think that's why I push people away– I see it now."
'And all my life I promise to,
Keep runnin' home to you,
Keep runnin' home,
To you,'
Eventually everyone ran out of things to do in Lima. You could only go bowling, to the movies, to the skating rink, and to Breadstix so many times before becoming bored. Not only were the locations out of gas, everyone frequented them, and both Sebastian and Mercedes had made it very clear that it probably wasn't in their best interest to be seen together out in public, being 'rivals' and all. They'd gone out of town a handful of times, once to Maumee Bay, another time to Toledo, but mainly to get the chance to hang out without having the impending fear that someone would see them together and something about the two, not that Sebastian cared as much as Mercedes.
Sebastian figured it must have been one hell of a boring day when he agreed to spending a day at the library with Mercedes, as she figured no one they knew would willingly step foot into that building without a mandate. He had homework that he usually pushed back in favor of Sunday night, and Mercedes enjoyed reading and writing as a second love (after singing), so the concept was calculable, and together they spent most of the day flipping pages in the silence of the second floor of the library. Mercedes was already twenty pages deep into her second book by the time Sebastian finished his calculus homework, as Mercedes had prescribed that he not 'copy off of one of his little friends' like he did everything else. She finished her second book, flipping pages quicker than Sebastian could finish questions– he was smart, above average, but it was difficult to keep Mercedes's pace when she was moving so quickly, and he was having trouble understanding how many joules of heat were produced during the combustion of ethanol.
Bending down a page of her book when Sebastian finally let out a heavy sigh and closed his binder, Mercedes offered a pleasant smile and raised her eyebrows. "Done?"
"Finally,' he sucked his teeth. "Surprised you didn't finish your book."
"Close,' Mercedes responded, closing her copy of Anthem by Ayn Rand. "I'm burnt out though,' she trailed. "Want to go read some magazines? 'Look at' would be more accurate,' Mercedes suggested before standing, giving Sebastian no opportunity to disengage. He pushed his stuff into Mercedes's backpack, as he wasn't fond of using his own, and followed her to the first floor of the library where an array of magazines ranging from LIFE to National Geographic lined the walls. Sebastian noticed how Mercedes flipped through a few magazines at first, never taking too long to get to the back cover before putting the spread back on the shelf and venturing to the next. She paused at a collection of magazines littered with wedding dresses on the front and bridesmaids. Mercedes flipped slowly through the book, bending certain pages to compare and contrast with dresses from other pages, and verbally expressed her approval of certain color schemes. Sebastian watched, never touching a magazine of his own, instead amusing himself with the awe Mercedes found in the prospect of marriage, or a wedding, at least. The concept of marriage would have scared him on his bravest day, and he could recall vividly feeling a chill down his spine once when one of his exes had suggested getting married– he had minimal experience with monogamy, less experience with long-term relationships, and no appeal, desire, or knowledge of marriage. The wonder of matrimony played on Mercedes's cheeks, giving a flush to Sebastian's, and butterflies to his stomach- she hadn't made him reconsider, but the idea seemed softer. If there was a life or death situation, he theorized, and he had to marry one person on the planet, it'd be her (which he felt was a step, because only a few months earlier, he would have probably opted to die or taken the not-so-noble vow and fallen into a never-ending pit of infidelity within his reluctant union.)
"Are you planning a wedding over there, Jones?"
Mercedes only gave back a small amount of attention, her mouth opening a tiny bit as she remained completely entranced in the page, flipping slowly. "No. Well– not planning, looking. All girls look and dream about weddings, I hope I'm not throwing inadvertent hints at you."
"I'm catching a few hints, but if you claim you're just scanning through those magazines in genuine interest, I believe you,' he replied, leaning back on a couch stationed behind the two, his hands deep in his pockets.
"Not like it would matter,' Mercedes continued, detached. "You wouldn't marry me, or anyone else for that matter, if your life depended on it."
Chuckling, Sebastian shook his head, "I was just thinking about that actually. I actually thought there was one person that might convince me to die to myself, but she's kind of prudish… She'd probably say no to my proposal just to prove a point."
Mercedes rolled her eyes, "Who's the prude?"
Shaking his head mischievously, Sebastian shrugged his shoulders as to suggest the answer was a secret. Mercedes hit him hard on the shoulder, though playfully, finally insisting that he tell her.
"If I am ever, you know, held at gunpoint-"
"Held at gunpoint, okay,' Mercedes confirmed.
Nodding, Sebastian continued, "If I'm ever held at gunpoint and forced to marry someone, it would be you every time, despite how uptight you are."
"Awww,' Mercedes gushed, pulling the magazine closer to her chest, as if embracing the book was a thank you for starting the conversation.
"Yeah, you're okay,' he said nonchalantly. "Don't make this into a romantic moment, that had to have been the most forced confession."
"It was cute though,' Mercedes said, sitting the magazine down and walking to Sebastian. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she intertwined their fingers as his hands met her's, the two sharing a brief kiss. "I feel like I'd be the one with the gun to your head forcing you to marry me, I can be pretty-'
"Pretty aggressive?' Sebastian joked, his hands slipping down to hold her around the waist. "I definitely see that- I like it a little bit."
'And I could see it,
Right from the start,
Right from the start,'
Sebastian considered himself an expert at many things, but two of those things that not even his worst rival could second guess were meeting parents and first dates. He was the most charismatic person he could think of, and he was extremely good at being charming and bestowing flattery, at least on the first meeting. Afterwards, his true colors started to show, and being overtly and intentionally deceitful may have been a fun recreational activity, but he couldn't lead his social life that way. As for Mercedes, he assumed he'd have to keep the charade up for some time. When he first opted to take her out to prove that he wasn't the guy she assumed he was, she made him promise that word wouldn't get around that they were talking to each other, and to make that even more definite, she made it a point to say that they would not be hanging out within Lima city limits. Reveling only in the potential that a few trips out of Lima with Mercedes would reward Sebastian with a Regionals win, that would inevitably lead to a Nationals win, he went with the bid and planned for their date to be at a nice Italian restaurant in Toledo. Mostly for his lack of planning and his disinterest with Mercedes at this time, he failed to schedule a reservation with the restaurant, and Sebastian's track record for perfect first dates hit a wall. The duo, as couple would hardly have described them at the time, sat outside the restaurant, Mercedes holding the buzzer for when their table would be ready. Sebastian's elbows were pressed into his knees, his head in his hands, while Mercedes sat beside him with a soft expression and her arms crossed.
"This wait is ridiculous, I'll never come back here,' Sebastian complained, eventually leaning off his knees and looking around the parking lot in a chagrin. A crowd of other people stood in front of them, waiting just as they were.
"It's not too bad,' Mercedes shrugged. "I play this game sometimes when I'm waiting– I just look around all the people wherever I'm at, and I try to guess their story, like why are they there."
Sebastian squinted his eyes and looked around the crowd, he lifted a finger a bit to a group of three guys, one in shorts and flip flops and the other two dressed fairly nice. "What about them?"
"They're brothers, they all have the exact same shade of hair, you can tell. The one in shorts is definitely the youngest, but the one with the red tie isn't too much older than him. You can tell the one with the glasses is the oldest, he's the most used to dressing nice, he's probably the richest too… Let's say, he invited his brothers out for dinner, maybe to patch something up with the family, they haven't been in communication lately. The one with the red tie, you can tell he isn't used to dressing nice, his jacket is too big for him, and he's practically drowning in those high-waters, poor baby,' Mercedes took a break to laugh, hoping Sebastian would crack a smile, but he only stared at her intently, waiting for her observation to finish. "Okay, well… He's probably usually dressed in socks and sandals, but his brother called him, asked him to look nice, so he did it. – He probably thinks highly of his older brother, really seeks a good opinion from him. As for the youngest, he doesn't care, at least he's playing at not caring. He didn't even bother to do his hair, he's probably the most distant."
Sebastian eventually tore his eyes from the object of their conversation and looked over at Mercedes, "All that from just a glance?"
Mercedes nodded.
Sebastian ran his tongue along his teeth, "And what do you think when you see me?"
"I see,' Mercedes hesitated, looking at her hands. "Maybe a very kind guy who feels like he needs to impress and present himself as more than what he actually is. Maybe he's scared that people wouldn't actually like him if he showed any vulnerability, probably because he doesn't like seeing any vulnerability,' she shrugged. "I see someone who would kill before showing any morality, someone small, manipulative, even. Someone who could be better, who I'd like to see be better. Someone who I hope would let me help him become better."
Sebastian chuckled, "I thought you were nice."
The buzzer turned bright red and began to vibrate in Mercedes's hand, "I am. It's just a game."
'That you would be,
Be my light in the dark,
Light in the dark.'
Halloween was the only holiday that Sebastian wasn't forced to spend with his family, as his father didn't consider it an actual holiday, and his mother claimed that her pious roots forbade her to celebrate on the day of evil. That was fine to him, though the tradition of carving pumpkins with Savannah, his sister, had become a one-man job over the years. He figured it would be a nice activity to do with a friend or a partner, but he'd never gotten the opportunity, mainly because he refused to share what he considered a sentimental time with anyone he didn't feel sentimental for. All the same, Mercedes's parents didn't celebrate Halloween either, and Sebastian knew he didn't want to hand out candy single-handedly that night.
"We live in a gated community, no one will be there that isn't already living there, and I can assure you no one from Lima stays anywhere near me."
"You're so arrogant,' Mercedes sighed, tightening her hands around her backpack straps. She shut Sebastian's car door behind her, "When do you want me to come over?"
"When do you want to come over?"
Mercedes laughed and drug her fingers over her face, "Can you just give me a straight answer?"
"Will five do?"
"Yes,' she nodded. "I'll see you at five." Mercedes brought back a bag of candy, which was quickly thrown into the mixture of other Halloween candies, and sat alongside Sebastian, who was already wiping off the final jack-o-lantern on his front porch.
"Are you the only one home?" Mercedes asked, wiping her hands off on her pants.
Nodding, Sebastian answered, "Everyone hates hearing the doorbell ring over and over again, I even offer to sit outside, so they don't feel like they're being evicted, but I think they use it as a reason to not be home,' handing a cleaver over to Mercedes, he dictated where her cut should begin to perfect the final pumpkin. He didn't dress in a costume, but did flatter himself with fall colors– khaki chinos, brown loafers, and a red button up. Mercedes, almost embarrassingly, had a Day of the Dead facial sticker pressed on her face and an all black outfit. She begged Sebastian to let her in the house to take the paint off, but he refused, insisting she looked fine.
"At least one of us should look…' he searched for the word. "Decorative."
'Oh, you gave me no other choice,
But to love you.'
Sebastian sat scrolling on his phone, looking up every few seconds to see Mercedes tapping her feet absent-mindlessly. The nail technician worked steadily on her fingers before finally asking her what color she'd liked.
"Seb– Sebastian,' Mercedes began, getting the young man's attention. "What color should I get?"
Sebastian shrugged, "What color do you want?"
Mercedes pouted, looked at the nail tech with a sigh and looked back over to her partner. "Sebastian, seriously… what color should I get?"
Sebastian eventually looked up, minutely annoyed, and scanned the wall full of nail polish colors. "I like the navy up there,' he pointed to a dark blue bottle at the top of the selection. The nail tech stood up and grabbed it quickly, shaking the bottle before starting.
Mercedes offered a giggle before beginning, "I figured I'd let you choose since you're paying anyway."
Sebastian gave Mercedes a fake smile and a dry laugh. "Yeah, how generous are you?"
Mercedes leaned over and puckered her lips, waiting for Sebastian to kiss her. He eventually relented and gave her a soft peck before returning to his phone. "I don't want to hear any complaining for at least a week,' he mumbled.
"Yeah, we'll see about that."
'All I want to do,
Is come runnin' home to you,
Come runnin' home to you.'
Trent, Wes, and a few other Warblers piled out of one of the mall's stores, the group finally trickling into the food court. Upon arrival, it only took a few seconds for the Warblers to put eyes on a few members of the New Directions centerfold. Trent hit Sebastian's shoulder, intending on their leader to make the first move. Sebastian frowned, looked over the collection, and was unsurprised to see Mercedes. They weren't the type to update the other on their constant whereabouts, but anywhere the New Directions were, Mercedes wasn't far behind. Making brief eye contact with her from a distance, Sebastian tore his eyes away and shook his head.
"Should we go rough em' up a little,' Wes suggested, garnering some laughs from the rest of the group.
Sebastian looked at the Warblers's co-captain blankly for a few seconds before shrugging. "You can go if you want,' Sebastian said mildly at first. He put his defense back up, "I don't have precious time to waste on those Daft Punk impersonators, but do as you'd like. Trent and I are going to eat."
Trent frowned but followed Sebastian to one of the food vendors. They both looked over their shoulders to see the group round over towards the New Directions: a group that consisted of Kurt Hummel, Finn Hudson, Rachel Berry, Tina Cohen-Chang, and what looked to be the other Asian of the group. And Mercedes. Sebastian turned away again, ordering for himself and coaxing Trent to order as well, and swiping his card for both of them. It wasn't before long that he heard a few voices rise and sighed while taking his receipt and platter from the cashier.
Trent took the platter from Sebastian, choosing a table in watching distance of the altercation between glee clubs. Sighing, Sebastian tore into the sandwich he'd ordered, listening closely to what was happening behind him and watching Trent's facial expressions.
"Looks like Finn is trying to defend Rachel… maybe… he just stood up– are you sure we shouldn't go over there?"
"I'm positive,' Sebastian stated, refusing to enter into the rendezvous. Admittedly, he knew he didn't want to have to insult the New Directions in front of Mercedes or vilify himself. He'd done it before, but in this situation, it seemed avoidable. He understood, and he knew Mercedes understood, that he had a role to play, but there was no reason to seek out battles. In his opinion, that's exactly what Wes had suggested. Maybe it was a move to mark their territory, but Sebastian was uninterested.
"Oh, come on, Sebastian. You're the captain of the team. You ignoring what's going on undermines the group."
"I didn't tell them to go over there, did I?" Sebastian bit around the sandwich some more, eventually picking up Trent's faltering expression and throwing the sandwich onto the platter. "Let's go,' he relented, standing up and walking over to stand with the rest of his team. Other than the entire standing group of Warblers, Finn, Kurt, and the other guy were all standing with their arms crossed as well. The Warblers, sensing Sebastian, made a path for their leader to walk through. Standing in front of Finn, he avoided Mercedes's gaze. He did, however, notice Kurt's sharp eyes. Sebastian's stomach turned; in truth, there were many reasons for Kurt to look down on Sebastian. The only one that plagued him was the thought that maybe Kurt knew about him and Mercedes. He looked away.
"What's the problem?"
"Your guard dogs want to start problems, Sebastian. I know you sent them over here,' Finn began loudly.
"I,' Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, placing the other on his chest, offended. "Did no such thing, modern Prometheus. You're being presumptuous, which I thought was the opposite of the welcoming doctrine of the New Directions. My friends just wanted to come say 'Hi', isn't that right, guys?" The Warblers agreed in unison.
"That's right. See, when I came over here, it looked like you guys were the ones up in arms, not my team. In fact,' Sebastian turned to face Trent. "We only came over here because it started to look hostile, right, Trent?"
"Right, Sebastian."
"Right, Sebastian,' he repeated, looking at Finn again. "You wouldn't happen to be threatening my team, would you, Hudson? Threats, verbal or nonverbal, are grounds for disqualification at regionals, and as much as I'd like to see you and the other Telly Tubbies wiggle on stage, I can't let this go by unchecked."
"That's not true,' Rachel interjected, standing quickly. "They came over here and started insulting Kurt, Mercedes, and I."
Sebastian raised his eyebrows and placed a hand on his temple. He looked down. "Is that true?"
Kurt crossed his arms, "Yep. How about they called us a group of misfits– what was it that you said?' Kurt asked, directing his question to one of the Warblers. "'A glorified bottom, Effie White, and a crooked nose Jew'?"
"Who said it?' Sebastian asked quickly, looking up. He didn't care about Kurt or Rachel, he didn't care that his team had started in immediately with insults. He did, however, care about Mercedes and her feelings. His team knew that he'd established a relationship with her, though they didn't know the details or extent. He'd made it clear that none of them were to target her in anyway (because, as he said, it would compromise the work he had done). He didn't look at her or anyone else in the group, but waited to see a few eyes look towards Wes. Sebastian frowned.
"You said that?"
Wes looked at Sebastian, unbothered. "I said it."
Sebastian wondered if Wes expected to be rewarded for what he'd said. Sebastian crossed his arms, took a quick glance at Finn, and looked back at Wes. "You're demoted from co-captain and suspended for two weeks. Trent will replace you on the board. Turn in your uniform when we get back to Dalton."
Wes gasped and looked at Sebastian with wide eyes, too shocked to speak. Sebastian looked back over to the New Directions. "I apologize. We win fair and square,' a lie. "Not through insults." Sebastian noticed a lightening in Kurt's eyes before he returned to his meal on the other side of the food court.
'And all my life I promise to,
Keep runnin' home to you,
Keep runnin' home,
Home to you.'
"You want me to open it now,' Mercedes said, raising her eyebrow and looking around herself. Sebastian sat with his elbows pressed into his knees, his hands supporting his head as he watched Mercedes fiddle with the box in her hands; they both looked anxious.
"Why wouldn't you?' Sebastian asked, irritation notable on his voice which was mainly the product of his growing weariness. He didn't frequently give gifts or show many signs of affection; he was somewhere between nervous and uncomfortable.
Mercedes shrugged, "I don't know… most people just don't open gifts in front of each other. What if you don't like it? Do you know how many ugly pairs of socks I've gotten from my aunties and uncles within the past four years?' she paused for a second, waiting for a quip from Sebastian, but there was none. Finally, still hesitating, she removed the top of the box and placed it on her lap, slowing pushing aside the wrapping paper to reveal a gold necklace with a dangling 'S' in the center. Sighing, Mercedes looked up at Sebastian quickly before shrugging her shoulders in shock.
Gushing, she started, "I don't know what to say, thank you… I didn't get you anything this nice, are you sure you want me to have it?"
Looking between her eyes momentarily, Sebastian nodded quickly, "Of course I want you to have it,' he began, motioning for Mercedes to turn around so he could help put it around her neck. "I didn't know if you'd like it…' he trailed.
Mercedes scoffed playfully, "You knew I would like it, hush". She moved her hand to where his fingers closed the grasp behind her neck, holding his hand for a second before turning around and smiling.
"I guess this is a start,' she in-putted.
Raising his eyebrows for a second, Sebastian pondered over what she meant by 'a start' before realizing it was a jab at his chosen secrecy about her. It had started a handful of arguments, he could tell Mercedes had grown more reluctant to discuss it as it usually ended with Sebastian saying something rude (to neither of their surprise). Gazing at the reflection of the Christmas tree's lights in the window behind Mercedes's head, Sebastian then gave a soft smile.
"Yeah,' he said, pulling her head in to lay a gentle kiss on her forehead.
'Can't say how the days will unfold,'
Looking down at the plate in front of him, Sebastian avoided eye contact with the man in front of him, his heavy gaze more than uncomfortable. Sebastian prided himself in being charismatic and good with parents, but something about the way Mr. Jones stared at him let him know that the man knew all too well that Sebastian wasn't who he said he was. He was prepared for a complete character investigation to start before Mercedes returned to the dining room carrying a platter of food with her mother behind her.
"I was just telling Mercedes that I think I remember your father from grade school, Sebastian,' Mrs. Jones began, sitting food on the table alongside her daughter, the patriarch still sending daggers at Sebastian.
"Oh,' Sebastian said, his voice cracking at the beginning. He didn't want to be at the dinner, didn't want to really attach himself to Mercedes in that way. The prospect of a fake relationship was already difficult enough, no matter how morally corrupt Sebastian viewed himself as being, but now that he'd been introduced to Mercedes's parents, he felt emotionally responsible to not only her but them.
"Yeah, he said he wanted to work in his home town's congressional district, so,' Sebastian shrugged, watching as the women made the plates and sat them out for the table. Sebastian swallowed hard, still avoiding the eye contact of Mercedes's father, whom he couldn't tell where his disdain arose from. It could have been from the fact that Sebastian was white, but he shrugged this off as Mercedes herself seemed quite liberal. It could be because Mr. Jones didn't like the prospect of Mercedes having a boyfriend, but she had talked about how much her parents loved her ex-boyfriend Shane. As things looked to him, Sebastian was pretty aware that Mr. Jones has a transcript of Sebastian's soul and was prepared to read it to the entire family. He was sweating in the cool home.
"Wow,' Sebastian stuttered looking down at the plate, "This really looks terrific, Mrs. Jones."
'Can't change what the future may hold.'
Kurt and Mercedes sat in the bleachers at Dalton Academy, watching boys run across the field, holding what looked like brooms to the two.
"Remind me why we're here,' Kurt asked, growing agitated and taking a look over his manicure.
Mercedes took a look over the field, locking eyes on Sebastian. She shrugged, Kurt didn't know the truth, at least not yet, but she refused to go to the game by herself. "I don't know, spontaneity? You don't want to check out some cute guys?"
"I could have checked out cute guys at home for free,' Kurt protested, groaning at the idea of spending five dollars just to attend a game at the school he had gotten out of months prior.
Mercedes bit her lower lip, knowing Kurt wouldn't be willing to stay the next hour and half to finish the game. Mercedes wanted to surprise Sebastian by coming to see him play at least once, but she didn't want it to be obvious that she didn't belong or that she was there to see someone specifically. She wasn't sure Sebastian even saw her up in the stands, but she knew he would have to believe that she was there if she took a few pictures or remarked on his coach's appearance.
"Oh, shit,' Kurt blurted, piquing Mercedes's interest as the young man didn't usually curse.
"What?' Mercedes responded in shock.
"That's Sebastian Smythe,' Kurt gasped, hitting Mercedes's shoulder. "Let's go key his car, I know what he drives!"
'But, I want you in it,'
"You really do look good as hell in those panties, are you wearing them right now?"
"That I am,' Mercedes whispered back into the phone, afraid that if she spoke too loud, someone in the house would hear her. She heard Sebastian sigh in approval on the other side of the receiver and wished she was with him. "How are you enjoying your birthday so far, by the way?"
"Pretty good,' he replied after a few seconds, his mind preoccupied with other thoughts. "I know how I could make it better."
Mercedes laughed, "I'll send you more pictures, but I'm not sending any videos."
Sebastian scoffed but laughed a few seconds afterwards. "No, of course not videos, that would be classless… I wish you were here instead."
Nodding into the phone, Mercedes used her empty hand to rub across her chest, imagining it was Sebastian instead. "Yeah, that would be nice right now. I want my head on your chest so bad."
"Well, I mean… I'm the birthday boy, so I'm looking for something more, but cuddling is nice,' he replied, partly joking.
"Yeah, shut up,' Mercedes said, tickled by the fact that neither of them were very sensual people and their dirty talk usually turned into jokes and banter. "Maybe I can sneak out? Risk it all for your eighteenth?"
'Every hour, every minute'
Spinning in her navy and white gown, Sebastian watched Mercedes's long hair play atop her shoulders as he watched her with a small smile. It had taken some begging for her to allow him to see her Regionals dress, but it was worth it. Her feet danced across the hard wood floor lightly as she hummed to whatever song she'd be singing in the nearby future. Watching her do what she loved kindled a small fire in Sebastian's heart; he reached out to touch her hand, Mercedes holding his generously and twirling into his arms, her wavy hair falling into his face as he looked up at her.
"You look so beautiful,' he whispered, tightening his grip on her hand and giving her a kind smile.
"Wait until you see me tomorrow,' Mercedes responded, pinching Sebastian's cheek and blowing him a kiss as she backed away from him again, lifting her skirt with her hands and balancing on the balls of her feet.
"I'm almost indifferent now,' he responded, perching his arm up to rest. "I want to win, but I don't want to see you lose."
Mercedes shrugged playfully, unaffected by Sebastian's morose tone, unaware of the guilt that had finally began to crush his chest. "A win for me is a win for you,' she said. "And either way, after tomorrow afternoon, we probably don't have to keep us a secret anymore. I mean, it might be easier to, because I don't want to hear anyone's mouth about us being together while we were still technically rivals, but,' Mercedes shrugged. "Who cares?"
She was right. Mercedes was graduating and moving onto other things after the school year ended, Sebastian would only be a senior, but it would mean that, if their relationship continued, it would no longer be a conflict of interest. He couldn't put an exact finger on what he expected to happen after tomorrow afternoon. He'd gotten minimal information from Mercedes in the months leading up to Regionals, a few set lists and sneak peaks into a few dress rehearsals, but according to the rest of the New Directions, Sebastian's mission to infiltrate the group had been a failure. No one, most specifically Sebastian, had expected him to actually fall for Mercedes.
If the Warblers one at the competition, Sebastian could never bring his relationship to the light, as the New Directions would endlessly give Mercedes trouble over the relationship and treat her like a traitor. The Warblers would give Sebastian some hazing about his relationship with Mercedes, probably make some cruel jokes that would lead to interpersonal conflict, and he wouldn't be surprised if the plan would be revealed to Mercedes out of spite one day.
If the New Directions won, Sebastian would be deposed almost immediately if he ever went forth about continuing a serious relationship with the girl. His teammates would say he'd thrown the competition in order to give his girlfriend a win, and he knew that Wes and some of the other factions in the group would go as far as to bring the extortion to a higher power in order to have some type of rematch. He couldn't deal with the prospect of Mercedes's being stripped of a well-deserved win due to a manipulation tactic that hadn't even worked in the first place. He felt more empathy in the moments of watching her twirl her dress for him than he had felt in all his seventeen years.
He felt the same anguish while watching her on stage the next day, everything seemingly moving in slow motion. The New Directions, the Warblers and another team from western Ohio were the top three contenders for regional winners, as was normally the case. Sebastian held his team members hands tightly as a loud announcer made notice that the New Directions and Warblers were the winner and the runner-up. Locking eyes with Mercedes one final time, he mouthed 'good luck' to her as confetti broke loose from the ceiling and one of the many sponsors ran to the stage holding a trophy.
The Warblers to both sides of Sebastian let go of his hands, Sebastian's ear drums vibrating loudly against the screams from the audience and the eruption of orchestral music above head.
Losing eye contact with Mercedes, Sebastian hoped things wouldn't change too much.