A/N: Okay so I'm really excited about this one. The idea for the general plot is based off the fictional play 'A Month of Summers' in the Sir Ian McKellen episode of Extras so if you've seen it then that's what this is. If you have no clue what I'm talking about, don't worry. The plot might seem a bit confusing at first but I'm trying to write it like that, like the reader finds out as the boys find out but if you have questions feel free. Anyways, I don't think it'll be too long, maybe five or so chapters around this length but I haven't written very much so far so updates might be somewhat infrequent. I'm also in school this summer so that doesn't help.
I really, really hope you like it
Katie
-Chapter 1: The Call-
He had always hated telephones. He hated the shrill of their ring, startling him from peace. He hated having to jump up from whatever he was doing and run to the receiver, stubbing his toe along the way, only to find out that it was a telemarketer on the other end. He hated being glued to wall as he talked or risk getting the cord tangled around everything or knocking something over. He hate not being able to see who he was speaking with, not being able to anticipate what was coming.
He assumed that this sheer distaste boiled from his mother's passing. That was a phone call he remembered well. He had been cuddled on the couch with Blaine, at the tender age of eight, when the then only slightly irritating ring interrupted their enthusiastic accompaniment of Bert during Jolly Holiday.
"Daddy, make it be quiet. It's ruining our performance," he whined petulantly.
"Calm down buddy," his father admonished with a chuckle, standing up from his arm chair. "I'm moving as fast as I can."
"Blaine, go pause it," he instructed his best friend. "Daddy always talks really loud and he doesn't like when I sing when he's on the phone."
"I don't know how," his friend answered apologetically.
"Really? But you can tie your own shoes and your bowtie. This can't be harder than those," he stated, throwing off the blanket and jumping down from the couch before making with way over to the VCR.
"Kurt," Blaine started hesitantly. "My dad says I shouldn't touch the TV and stuff so maybe we should just wait."
He turned to look at his friend and then back at the machine. There were a lot of buttons but his parents never seemed to have difficulty with it. Glancing into the kitchen, he saw his dad sitting at the table, clutching the phone to his ear and holding his head in his hands. He looked like he would be there for a long time which made Kurt not want to wait. Looking closer though, Kurt could see a real fear in his father's eyes and suddenly, watching the happy movie with his best friend, even if they had to be quiet so as not to disturb his father's conversation, seemed like a good idea.
Even after settling back into the movie, Kurt couldn't stop thinking about his dad. Something didn't feel right. Nothing had ever felt right since his mother had gone to the hospital a few months ago but this seemed even worse than that. He kept glancing over the back of the couch in hopes of seeing his father returning and bringing some hot chocolate with him but it was always the same scene he looked into.
"What's wrong?" Blaine finally whispered. "You didn't laugh at the penguin part. You always laugh at that part. It's your favorite."
"I don't know. My dad looks scared. Look," he pointed. Both boys turned around and crouched up on their knees so they could peer into the kitchen.
"I've never seen him look like that. Mine looks like that all the time but not yours," Blaine stated. The hint of worry present in his best friend's voice unsettled Kurt even more.
"I don't know what to do," he admitted desperately. He felt Blaine's familiar arm wrap around his shoulders, pulling him close, and Kurt gladly buried his head in the boy's neck, seeking out comfort. "My mom would know but she's not here."
"Okay, of course, we'll be right over. I love you too darling," he father finished before hanging up the phone. He paused for a moment, in almost a trance like state, a strange look of peace settling over his features but they were still far from content. He gave his head a little shake, running his fingers through his thinning hair before turning towards them. "Alright boys, gettcha coats on. We're going to make a quick trip to the hospital before bed."
Relief washed over Kurt. They were going to go see his mom. She would make it better. Everything would be fine. That relief, however, slowly drained with every block they drove. Blaine was periodically yawning beside him and a chill settled unwelcome on his legs which he suddenly realized were only covered by his light blue cotton pajama bottoms. It was late. His dad had already told them that they wouldn't be able to watch the whole movie that night because it was way past their bed time. They had never gone to visit his mom in the middle of the night before. Something was definitely wrong.
He quietly scooted over to the middle seat so he could lean into his friend. He wanted to stay like that, hidden in Blaine's hug forever. He didn't want to go to the hospital anymore and his heart sank when his dad finally pulled into the familiar parking lot.
Reluctantly he pulled himself away from Blaine and walked into the building. His dad's large and comforting hand found his quickly and he was very glad for it. They made their way down the dizzying, maze like halls to his mother's room. It was eerily quiet. There were usually lots of nurses bustling about and other families visiting their loved ones. Now though, the harsh hall lighting had been dimmed to allow patients their rest. Visiting hours were long over and yet the nurses let them in. Something was definitely wrong.
"KK, come here, baby boy," his mother cooed as he stepped cautiously into the room. Her voice was faint and she could barely lift her arms to pull him into a hug. "Daddy tells me you're having a sleepover."
He hugged her tight though, soaking up the feeling. Somewhere deep within he knew what was happening and why they were there. He may have been too young for that dreadful truth to fully form in his mind but the pieces were all there, scattered throughout his account of the happy evening that he had been having before the phone rang.
"Uh-huh," he nodded enthusiastically turning towards his friend who had tucked himself away onto the chair in the corner. "With Blaine! His parents went away for work for the weekend so he has to sleep at our house."
"Hi, Blaine sweetie. I'm sorry to ruin your sleepover," his mother directed to his friend with a kind smile.
"It's okay, Mrs. Hummel. It's cool to be up so late. My parents never let stay up past ten."
"Well I'm glad you're having a good time. How about you, KK? Are you having fun?"
"Yup! Daddy let us have pizza for dinner and then we got to watch Marry Poppins and Blaine likes to sing the songs just like me. Daddy says we were driving him crazy but he never told us to stop so we sang louder."
"Good," she chuckled back. Her laughter was quiet but Kurt could see the light in her warm hazel eyes shine just as brightly as it used to, back when the sound of her laugh, especially when caused by him, would effortlessly fill an entire room with joy. "I'm so glad to hear that, baby. All I ever want is for you to be happy. Can you promise me that, Kurt? That you'll never let other's stop you from doing what you love and what makes you happy."
"I promise, mommy," he answered softly, picking up on the sudden change in tone, the pieces moving closer together. "I love you."
"I love you too, KK."
Those pieces never fully came together on their own. They had moved closer still when they finally left the hospital, his father's grip on his hand even tighter than when they had entered but never painting a picture that Kurt could see. It wasn't until the phone rang again around ten the next morning, after Blaine's mother had picked him up, and his father came into his room and held him close while fighting back his own tears as he told him that the pieces were fitted together for Kurt. It wasn't until then that the small boy of eight could finally see the image and understand that his mother would never be a part of it again.
For Kurt, that loss had started with a phone call. As he got older he of course learned that that was not really case but by that time the memory and the hurt had already become so engrained. He just simply couldn't change the way he felt about telephones, or rather, how they made him feel as the bottom of his stomach dropped out at the sound of their ring. That's why, when the ringing phone startled him awake that morning, fourteen years later, he buried his head back into his pillow with no intentions of getting up.
His pillow, however, stirred unexpectedly and being already on edge, Kurt sprang up, tangling himself in the blanket and tripping over the coffee table before landing hard on the floor.
"Woah there. Those were some uh, impressive acrobatics for this early in the morning," Blaine chuckled from where he lay on the couch, where Kurt had been laying not minutes earlier. Kurt felt his cheeks flush when he realized that it had been Blaine's chest that his head had been resting quite comfortably on all night.
"Yeah well, you know…phone. And all…." he finished lamely, his brain trying and failing to remember how it had ended up cuddled next to his roommate all night.
"I'll go deal with the scary phone," the other teased.
The light hearted joshing helped to relax him. Feeling Blaine's hand pat his shoulder in that familiar way as he walked past and into the kitchen to play along with this silly delusion that he refused to look beyond, reassured him that the previous night did not rest heavily on the other's mind.
As Kurt turned over to stand up he spotted two empty wine bottles resting against the end table. The sight seemed to spark his memory. Excitement began to take over the relief as he remembered that he had gotten cast in an off Broadway production. The role was relatively small but he had lines and it was going to pay enough that he could drop to part time at the coffee shop and still come out ahead. He remembered that he had felt rather foolish about the initial excitement that had swept through his entire being due to the insignificance of the part. He had forced himself to tell Blaine in a very nonchalant manner. Blaine, however, had been through the moon.
"You're kidding!" he exclaimed, dropping his bag in shock on the floor.
"No?" Kurt replied, confused by his roommate's enthusiasm.
"Kurt, that's amazing," Blaine stated in awe while tackling him almost to the ground in a bear hug. "I'm so proud of you. You have to tell me when opening night is so I can get a ticket. Oh and we must celebrate. I'll run out and get some wine and those pastries you like," he rambled off before scurrying out the door before Kurt could stop him.
Kurt thought he was making too big a deal out of it all but he couldn't deny that the enthusiasm made him feel good. It made it all, the dead end barista job, the countless auditions, the long road of forgettable roles, seem worth it. Or like he didn't need to be famous or successful before he began living. His life was happening right now and he was allowed to enjoy it and there was going to be someone there to enjoy it with.
He quickly unburied the excitement that he had initially felt and by the time Blaine returned, he was more than ready to really let loose and be happy and look forward to the next few months of long rehearsals where he would simply sit on the side lines for the majority of it.
"Okay, I hope you're hungry. I stopped by that Indian place too because I figured we would need some real food to accompany the goodies."
"Good thinking," he chuckled. "You're quite the sight when you've been drinking on an empty stomach. And sugar is practically alcohol with you."
"At least I don't turn into a giggle monster," Blaine teased, grabbing the necessary utensils before joining him on the couch.
"Giggle monster is better than man whore who makes out with every woman in sight," he replied pointedly, reaching out to take his food from Blaine. "Yum, smells good."
"Nothing but the best for my little Broadway star," Blaine said with a grin, popping off the cork in the wine bottle and pouring them both a more then generous glass.
"I'm not sure a little hole in the wall curry place can be considered the best."
"Oh, it's not, but you're not on Broadway either."
Kurt smacked him in the shoulder but there was a smile on his face. "Some day."
"I have no doubt. Now, which movie?"
"Marry Poppins?"
"Oh look, someone's already in a giddy mood."
Kurt smacked him again and Blaine feigned great peril, escaping from the couch to pop in the movie.
"Should we spice it up a little bit?"
"Go on," Kurt replied intrigued.
"Every time Mr. Van Dyke butchers the greatness that is the British accent, we have to take a very large gulp of wine."
"So basically every time he talks."
"Pretty much," Blaine agreed with a chuckle. "Think you can handle it?" he asked as he settled in beside him on the couch.
"Oh I think you should stick to worrying about yourself, Anderson."
"Hey, I'm in the clear here. There aren't any ladies around. There are however, many giggle inflicting aspects to this movie. A flock of animated penguins, if I'm remembering correctly?"
"Oh you're on."
That was the last coherent thing he remembered saying but it certainly explained the blurriness of the rest of the evening. The bits and pieces he was able to put together though seemed to imply that he had lost the unsaid competition of who could drink the most without letting their infamous drunken tendencies take over. Kurt even had to suspect that maybe they had pegged Blaine's drunken self wrong and that they were more similar than originally thought. Needless to say, there had been neither a lack of giddiness nor sheer enjoyment of the movie, and each other, and simply life in general. And although he could not remember falling asleep, he could remember falling onto the couch after exhausting himself in dance alongs and settling close to Blaine. The other boy had simply squeezed him tight and whispered another congratulations before Kurt shushed him playfully because the movie was still on and they were missing drink worthy dialogue. Blaine had obliged and simply opened the second bottle, refilling their glasses.
That's how it always was with them though, minus the uncontrollable giggling and impromptu recreations of the on screen activity, at least usually. There was just an ease about the friendship that had been there since they were little. It was something that Kurt had never found with anyone else but that he didn't particularly want with anyone else.
"Uh, Kurt," he heard Blaine call from the kitchen after hearing the phone being placed back on its receiver. Blaine's voice sounded slightly hesitant and Kurt hoped it was just from the remaining fogginess of last night's impaired state.
"Yeah," he replied, standing a little too quickly and making his way to the kitchen.
"That was uh, Wes. From school. Sebastian, uh…. Sebastian died," Blaine stuttered out, eyes jumping unfocused around the small room.
"What? But how?" he asked in a quiet and shocked voice, completely stunned by the news.
"He, uh, it was suicide. The gun was beside him."
"Oh my god," he all but whispered, his voice disappearing in disbelief and the sheer chaos that erupted in his mind. Death was something that always hit him hard. "Why?"
"Don't know. There's a note but his sister has it," Blaine sighed, leaning against the counter. "They're having the funeral on Friday back in Ohio. I'm think I should go."
At this, the chaos in his mind seemed to double. Blaine was never fond of Sebastian. The guy was an asshole who had somehow managed to infiltrate there group of friends. But Blaine's dislike was no less than the one he himself presented to the world so why would he assume that Kurt was just not going?
"Okay. I uh, I think I should too," he stated, nodding his head in assuredness but avoiding Blaine's eyes.
"R-really? You want to go? I thought you couldn't stand the guy," Blaine questioned almost defensively crossing his arms over his chest.
That's what he was afraid of, that Blaine would begin to question his own need to say goodbye when he could not really offer an explanation. There were a lot of things about Sebastian that put him off. They were traits that would put him off of anyone and he never tried to hide his dislike of them in front of Blaine or even Sebastian himself. Kurt almost had to laugh at the irony of the situation because sometimes his vocal dislike was in fact a cover for what he was really hiding. Now though, it seemed as if he had been hiding it too well. Then again though, Blaine didn't really seem to have a proper reason either so why was he so adamant about Kurt's?
"Neither could you," he pointed out in a neutral manner. He could tell they were headed down a treacherous path and yet he couldn't figure out why.
Blaine simply looked at him for a moment, silent, hazel eyes dulled and distant. It was as if he trying to find the trap that Kurt was laying out. Kurt was too busy trying to sort out his own feelings without letting them show to even construct a working snare let alone figuring out what he was hunting for. And so, Kurt simply stared back in what he hoped came across as an open and non-judgemental look.
"Okay," Blaine finally nodded. "Okay, if you want to go, we'll go together."
"Okay," he agreed with his own nod.
"Wait, what about your show? Don't you start rehearsals?"
"Shit!" He had completely forgotten and now this whole mess became even more real. Saying goodbye not only roused suspicions within Blaine but it also began to encroach on his fragile career. "I'll uh, I'll just ask for the time off."
"What if they say no?" Blaine asked in a tone that really meant what happens when they say no.
Kurt knew he was right. They wouldn't halt the production for some nothing actor playing some nothing part. Something stirred deep within though, that something that had repressed for so long, pulled him towards the boy who had put a gun to his head. It was only with that boy that it had ever been allowed to surface from the underworld and it needed to pay respect to its fallen comrade.
"Then they'll have to find someone else," he stated with more confidence than he actually had. He turned away before Blaine could see through it though. "I'm going to pack."