ME NO GUSTA. :(
Chris Colfer here.
So yeah, today's the day that I would go over Ryan's office and read with him the new scripts that came up with and voice my concerns or opinions (if there was any), or if we're offended by the actual stuffs that we would be doing...Or offend our viewers, rather. Whatever! Let me try again. Today's the day wherein I'd go over the script readings with Ryan and Blaine.
Crap. Darren. What I meant to say was, 'Darren'.
Supermegaawesomefoxyhot Darren Everett Criss...
...Yes, you've read that right, fan girls. You aren't the only ones capable of Google-ing a person. But...It's not enough to be actually considered as 'stalking', right? Oh dear goodness, no! The poor guy already has his plate full with his crazy obsessed estrogen-filled fan girls, his psychotic stalkers, his haters, and the amazing teens who worship him just because he plays the part of a courageous, delicious—witty! I meant witty! And totally adorable dapper, not to mention homosexual, Blaine Anderson.
He didn't need another creepy high-pitched babble mouth lunatic like me. His co-worker. His colleague. His freaking friend!
Who by the way, was head-over-heels forbidden Romeo-and-Juliet style type of taboo love over him and yet, said person was denying his feelings and instead, pretends that what happens on-screen 'stays' on-screen.
I woke up at around five. The tossing and turnings I experienced last night were enough proof that my damned body refused to actually listen to me and rebelled against my will! Seriously, I for one doubted if I was possessed by an evil entity or a demon or a 'fourth kind' type of alien...Okay Chris, we seriously need to stop the weekly horror flicks with Darren, Chord, Mark, and Kevin.
Since there was more than hour to spare, I turned on my laptop again in hopes of continuing an extra chapter or more so I could leave my weekend vacant and actually do something with my life (like say, go out on a movie date with Amber, or take my little sister to an amusement park or something). After bribing myself with two cups of coffee and a Starbucks bagel, I finally relented to my own commands.
Okay, things were quiet for a while.
That until, my phone vibrated. Curiously, I readjusted my reading glasses and checked it.
G'morning sunshine! ;) –D.
I smiled. That was odd. Darren usually woke up thirty minutes before an actual meeting. Or an hour, if the meeting was important enough.
Morning hobbit! :D Why you up so early? :/—C.
Darren composed a reply and at the same time, gave me enough time to enjoy my bagel, and to finish the remaining brown bittersweet liquid from my favorite 'Potterhead' mug. What? I just thought that the design looked really cute.
Couldn't sleep. :( —D.
Huh. Cryptic enough of a message.
Why? –C.
I tossed my IPhone carelessly unto my half-heartedly made up bed. Then I proceeded to remove my shirt and my pajamas.
Underwear was simply insignificant when I go to bed. Well, it depends, actually. I'd either wear just boxers or short sleeping shorts, or commando pajamas. What? I was just going to sleep after all.
Afterwards, I stepped into my bathroom. The sink oppositely void of any facial products (aside from a moisturizer and a facial cream) as one would expect from a guy who plays as a rather meticulous teen on TV. I shivered a bit as I stepped into the warm spray of water. Oh my god. I really never appreciated morning showers that much. I mean—it's—it's cold and like BAM!
You shiver when you feel the scalding water melting your skin—Okay, not to that point of exaggeration, but you get my point. Suddenly, I remembered the last song I heard from the radio yesterday and began to hum.
Whistling the intro, I swayed my hips and danced like an idiot. Like seriously. Thanks to that 'Single Ladies' gig, my hips were now practically dislocated every time I danced.
'I've got the moves like Jagger', I sang loudly, raising my arms and shaking my head along to the imaginary beat. I know that it's five in the morning, but seeing that I live off of caffeine and chocolate and plain sugar—and dammit, it's Maroon 5! How could anyone NOT enjoy the awesomeness of the band that was Maroon 5? Although, their opinions might vary once they hear that it's the chipmunk rendition of the song that was bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.
'I've got the mooooooves... like Jagger!' And then inside my head, the beat of a mash-up song came to me. I began to nod my head along the imaginary beat as I grabbed my shampoo and squirted the liquid unto the palm of my hand. 'If you want to be with me, there's one thing you've got to know: I like my beats fast and my bass down low. My bass down low. My b-b-bass down looooow.'
Thank god I lived alone. Imagine the media uproar and the internet frenzy this would cause.
Hmmm...But I think I would like to suggest this mash-up to Ryan later on...And not that I'm already plotting about the possible scenes, but I would like Darren to sing the Maroon 5 part, and possibly Heather for the other part. And like, since Blaine's already transferred to McKinley, the New Directions could party in with him! And he could invite the Warblers too.
We both always wanted the Warblers and the New Directions to mingle.
After finishing my rather entertaining morning shower, I lazily toweled my hair, and secured another towel around my waist. And then, I brushed my teeth, although there weren't that much to brush, considering how minutely miniscule my munching machines were. Really. Cory was teasing me the other day, saying how long I took chewing a—a—a...what do you call that? Damn it. Yes! A piece of Salisbury steak. I replied that it took about the same time for him to bend down to tie his shoelaces, considering that he was freakishly tall.
Stepping into my walk-in closet, I weighed the various options of clothing in my mind. Chuckling, I realized that I was actually thinking along the lines of 'I wonder how would Kurt dress in a situation like this?' or 'Would Kurt Hummel approve of this?' and even 'Should I call my stylist?' Then I remembered that it was just a reading session. A bit of a warm up so we, actors and actresses, would know what we're up against the next time we enter the battlefield that we so lovingly refer to as the 'set'.
It was a simple casual meeting today.
With Ryan Murphy.
And Darren Criss.
Without me realizing it, the panic bubble already exploded inside of me. Suddenly, I felt like I was myself back in high school. The time when I was about to make my first speech in front of the Speech and Debate Club. The time when I figured that I should stand up for myself because let's face it. I had no knight in shining armor in Clovis. Heck, I figured that there were simply no superheroes out there to save a scrawny, pale, high-pitched gay kid like me. And then I backtracked. What was I doing?
Oh my god.
What was wrong with me? Sure, I had graced with the fact that I maybe sorta kind of just a tiny little bit hypothetically somewhat, dare I say it, 'attracted' to him. And I already professed that this was a—It—Darren—It was a problem. So what the hell was I doing last night, flirting with him? Why the hell was I fretting what to wear just because I was also seeing Darren that day? Why the hell was I so excited? It's not cool. It's not right. I was a person other teens look up to.
They lean against me, no matter how small my actions for the LGBT community were. And yet here I was, pining over a straight guy like some sort of lovesick schoolgirl that would never, not once in a million light years, reciprocate my feelings. I was a professional actor. And of course, I knew better than to meddle up my personal private affairs with work.
Just like that, my good mood vanished.
As they say, 'realizations hit hard.'
Well damn. This hit like a, excuse me for the language, bitch.
I should stay focused. It would look really bad if my feelings were somewhat noticed by other people. And not to mention the fans...They would hate me. I mean, sure. I'm aware of the 'ships' out there in the fandom of Glee. Heck, I'm even aware of the names. It's really amusing once you get over the fact that strangers out there are writing their deepest and darkest fantasies about you. Okay, there was Puckleberry (Puck and Rachel), Finchel (Finn and Rachel), and Tike (Tina and Mike), and Quam/Fabevans (Quinn and Sam), and Brittana (Brittany and Santana), and Samcedes (Sam and Mercedes) and...Klaine, of course, Kurt and Blaine. But I noticed that there were...What did they call those again? Ah, yes. RPF, I think, Role Playing Fiction?
There was...Well, most of the ones I did find (by accident), were...about me. There's Monfer (Cory and me), and dare I say it, CrissColfer (Darren and me). Strangely...I was being paired with random members of the cast. But oh, there was also Quinn and Rachel, and even Sam and Blaine! And the funniest ship name I found was Finn and Puck's...I snorted. Okay, their name's something you shouldn't mention often, it would be rude.
Where was I? Oh right. Aside from the strangest fiction fans write about out there, and the immensely thoughtful gifts and fan mail I receive every day, well, let's just say I couldn't really please everybody. And I know that. The first time I know of this was when I Google-ed myself sometime the early release of Glee. And let me tell you, the comments I read? They were awful. I knew that the audience was harsh and criticizing, but it was downright terrible. They were really brutal and mean about it. And it hurt me so much that I never bothered to search myself on the net ever again. Technology could really be great and all, but other times, it just speeds up the mess process.
I'm straying from the main point again. Anyways, as I was saying, I knew that I couldn't please everybody out there. There were a lot of parents and homophobes concerned about that 'gay' character on the show, especially now that he has a relationship with another 'gay' character. It's a bit saddening that the world is still conventional and that prejudice still exists. But it's okay, for me. It's notas if I hoped that once GLEE became famous then everything would be all butterflies and rainbows. I learned that the whole world is a lotlike my high school, Clovis East High, only it was wider, and the people were meaner.
And if people would find about me being in a relationship, or at the very least, panting after one of his colleagues just because they play as the sickening sappy couple onscreen, AND said colleague was straight...Let's just say that people would probably come after me with pitchforks and torches. It was already a trying moment for them to watch a queer kid on television.
Imagine the disgust and the rage they would feel if they learned that I was practically 'infecting' a straight guy with my persistent homosexuality.
Oh dear god, I could practically imagine the headlines...
I excelled in the arts: singing, dancing, acting, writing—you name it. The other areas wherein I'm not good at, such as sports, and maybe socializing (at times), I could probably learn how to improve on them. But if there was one thing I sucked at...
...Then it would probably be dealing with my emotions.
That's right.
Emotions. Not love or romance or self-denial.
I suck at emotions. I usually keep them bottled up. And usually, it eats me away, that or someone was bound to notice or I end up exploding.
The latter usually happens. Thus, my weird quirks of building mini pyramids out of diet coke cans or squishing Chewbacca's face were my means of controlling my...emotional state.
Wow. Look at how profound and in-depth self-realization concerning clothes got me.
Sighing, I grabbed a wifebeater (always as an undershirt!), then a somewhat loose button down polo, the blue—cerulean blue one, the one Amber picked for me when we shopped together months ago. Then I grabbed my belt, and my jeans (normal ones, thank you. God knows that the ones I wore during the show were tight enough to cut the blood circulation flowing in my thighs).
After sliding into my jeans and buckling my belt, I wore my undershirt first and then moved on to buttoning my polo, leaving the first three buttons unbuttoned. Deciding that I looked humanly decent enough, I moved to my vanity mirror and before I could fix my hair, my phone vibrated from where it lay...Which was the bed.
There were 2 unread messages.
The first one was from Amber. I smiled as I read her message.
Boo, wanna get some coffee? ;)
I sighed, quickly typing in a reply.
Sorry, can't babe. Got a rehearsal at 10. Ryan at 7. And Darren at 12. –C.
Biting my lip, I contemplated for a moment if I should meet with her or not. Amber Riley, the talented girl who plays as Mercedes in the show, grew to be one of my real life best friends. She's sweet, and funny, and sassy, and talkative—when she wants to, which was quite often. And analyzing my crappy mood that morning, I figured I needed a distraction.
Meet me at the cafe later. I'll text you when we're done.—C.
I typed it in quickly. Then I moved on to the next message. Oh, it was from Darren, the man who was slowly ruining my sanity. Damn, talk about slow response.
It's a secret. ;) I'll tell u l8ter. Maybe. :P —D.
Huh. And they call me the 'dramatic' one.
"Chris! You look great!" Ryan warmly greeted me as he took a few long strides to meet me halfway, and then full on out embraced me. I returned the affectionate embrace to the best I could, since I was hugging my Fairy Godfather.
"Ryan! You too! Did you get a new haircut?" I grinned cheekily at him.
"Ha-ha. Chris. Ha-ha." He rolled his eyes at me as we both walked towards the improvised cafeteria in one tiny section of the whole studio. It was kind of nice there. It was a great place to find food when thousands of people are waiting for you to come out from the set to walk a few blocks down the road for the—the cool diner joint there. "I see you haven't hit puberty yet."
I gasped at his remark as I watched Ryan walk away, laughing his ass off. "Touché", I muttered as I followed him.
We settled down at one of the benches as one of the other staff—oh wait, it was Sandy! She's the one who made the 'Grilled Cheesus', for your information. I beamed at her as she grinned at me. "Sandy, sweetie, could you kindly get me some sandwich? And possibly some milk and cookies for Chris here? And while you're at it, come join us for breakfast, honey."
"I'll just have coffee, Sandy. Thanks", I grumbled as I shot the producer a playful glare. Sandy walked away, shaking her head at the obvious craziness that was me and Ryan. He turned to me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"So! Chris! Mr. Big-Shot", he smiled, "how are you? How have you been holding up? I mean, look at you!" He gestured to all of me with his hands and—oh my god, was—was he going to cry? "You won a Golden Globe. You just finished filming a movie that you wrote. You're writing for Disney. You're writing a book. You're fighting for the LGTB community. And I—I mean, you're so young."
And this is one of the reasons why I love Ryan Murphy so much. He—wait, oh god! I didn't mean that I love Ryan in that way. Or that I love Ryan because admittedly, okay, I'm kind of spoiled when it comes to him. Or that he praises me far too much. No, no, and no. Actually, it's because he somehow sees me for who I am. Kind of like, he—he takes in all of my scars and flaws too. Because contrary to popular belief, I'm actually kind of a pain in the ass. And I'm not ashamed to hide something like that. Seemingly, Ryan thought so too. He takes in my scars—the horrible memories, specifically my high school years. And despite the fact that they steal ideas from us, he takes my experiences, add it to the storyline, and shows the whole world that the things I've been through...They're not those cliché teenage problems.
They were real. They happen in life.
And maybe, in that way, some parents would bother to ask their children, some teachers would take notice of these things, and some friends would bother to stand up for other people.
Because you know, people may have eyes to see with, but they don't certainly use their brains to think along with or their mouth to talk with. There are a lot of teenagers who are...misguided. Because they think that they're alone. And what's worse is that the people with authority, people who the younger generation look up to or lean against for support, parents and teachers and whatnot, they're the very first ones to judge and categorize teens in accordance to how to handle them.
"Oh Ryan, come on", I waved my hand dismissively. "You sound like my mother."
"Well, I am your Fairy Godfather." We both chuckled at that. As if on cue, Sandy reappeared with our breakfast. "You won't be joining us?" I asked her. She turned back and shook her head. "I'm already bloated just by looking at you, honey. My eyes are feasting." With a wink, she skipped back to the other waiting staff members, who were currently laughing their heads off at my absurdly flushed face.
Ryan took a bite of his sandwich. "You still haven't answered my question, Chris."
I rolled my eyes. "Please, Ryan. I—you—those are nothing! It feels like my hobby, which is writing, and my passion, which is acting were rolled into one! So, it's all jolly and great." Sipping my coffee, I continued. "You should probably be surprised when you find out that I'm actually a superhero with a secret identity and I just saved the world from a super villain's catastrophic evil...you—you know evil master— master plan."
"I wouldn't be surprised at all, really."
"You wouldn't?"
"And I bet Cory would probably be your sidekick."
"No, no. Cory's too much of a Giant to be my sidekick. I mean at one point he might've carried me if I was too tired or wounded or something."
He thought hard about whom to pair me up with. "You know, I bet Darren would be the perfect sidekick for you."
"What because he's...you know...'Vertically challenged' and he's got enough energy to light up a city?"
Ryan snorted. "No. I mean, both of you are workaholics. I heard that he's writing songs for the College-produced play they did that's it's on its third produce now. Other than that he's filming 'Imogene' and GLEE, and not to mention the other advertisements and magazines that he's working with."
Ignoring the fanboy side of me, I focused on the fact that he said that Darren and I a lot compatible. "So, you're saying that Darren would be the perfect sidekick?"
He nodded. And then seconds later, he frowned. Damn, he noticed the manic gleam of my eyes.
"I got it! Kurt and Blaine isn't really, you know, a couple. They're actually partners-in-crime, with Kurt as the Superhero and Blaine as the Sidekick and they—they team up to protect Ohio from...From...uuh...Radioactive...Turtles? And Zombies and Vampires lurking as humans! That and Sue would be the Mastermind of all things evil."
"And what would they call themselves?"
"I think", I tilted my head in a curious manner, "Kurt would call himself...I don't know", I shrugged, "'Porcelain' maybe? Or 'Kickass?' Oh wait, scratch the last one, it's already taken. And Blaine would be 'Mr. Dapper' because he's usually polite and pressed down neatly and his gel covered with hair—oh wait, the other way around...His hair full of gel. And their costumes would be awesome! But Kurt would not have a mask or anything that might destroy his hair or his face. You know how he is, so instead, he gets those...eye masks? And he has no cape at all, because capes are absolutely tacky. He's wearing leather, not spandex, because spandex leaves marks. Leather and boots, I think, and something of Alexander McQueen's! Like a scarf or something, because you know how Kurt is."
"Uh-huh."
"And Blaine would probably be in full-superhero costume, as if he's stepped out to go trick-or-treating or something. His costume would be similar to Robin's. Although the colors would be different, and instead of an "R" embedded on the top it would be a "D" for 'Dapper.' And of course, Mr. Dapper wouldn't be himself without his bow tie and his pink sunglasses."
"The one Darren always carries with him around? The very same thing when we filmed the 'Gap Attack'?"
I nodded. Oh! This would be great! The viewers wouldn't know what hit them! Imagine! The very first TV show wherein almost all genres are present: Action, Romance, Comedy, Sci-fi, Suspense, Horror, Drama...And all at the same time it's a musical!
"So you're saying is that you want to turn GLEE into Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, Buffy, 28 weeks later, and Heroes all rolled into one?"
"Ratings will skyrocket!"
"Yeah...no", Ryan laughed. "Seriously, Chris?"
I pouted. "What? The element of surprise—it always ensures victory on the battlefield."
"Just stick to writing children's books, sweetie", he patted my arm comfortingly.
"Ryan, ugh, sorry I'm late! Traffic was horrible!" A pleasing, deep, yet cheerful voice filled my ears. I whipped my head too fast and gave myself a stiff neck or a neck cramp of some sort. I winced as I rubbed my neck.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a gelled hair guy—Darren, of course. He gave Ryan a one-armed hug and patted his back before they both pulled away at the same time and launched into the proper talk of 'how are you; and so on and so forth. Gah! Darren Criss was there. The same room. As me. Oh wait, we were work colleagues. Him. My straight work partner. Colleagues. Friends. That's all we're ever going to be.
I could do this. I could do this.
"Hey Chris!" I heard my name being called. Automatically, I smiled at him. But damn...I resisted the urge to cover my eyes because he truly and really looked...Handsome.
He was wearing a black V-neck cotton shirt, some skinny jeans, and his sneakers. Huh. Somehow, it was evident that he directly came from an event or a concert.
"Hey Darren!" I stood up and we gave each other a hug. After a few minutes, I willed myself to separate from him. But of course I waited at the right moment that he should let go first. Because—maybe he'd get the wrong idea that I must've hated him or something. And it wasn't only a few more minutes later that we separated for air. I shivered a bit. He smelled like rain, yet had that manly scent on him. Not that I don't smell the same way! What I meant was...Huh. Figured I need to ask what his perfume was, I need to stop smelling so sweet all the time. Last time, it was lavender, I got chased by insects.
This week, Vanilla, I got chased by insects AND cats.
So...Yeah.
"You look amazing!" I sincerely remarked. He did really. Not because I had this schoolboy crush on him. Not because he totally looked fresh and everything despite that he was overloaded with more work. Not that because I could see his curls rebelling from the gel he put on. Not because I got to hug him. But honestly, he really looked great.
Darren grinned. "Aww shucks. You look adorable yourself, Chris. It's the first time I saw you with that pair of glasses."
I flushed. That moment, I brought with me my pair of frameless, oval reading glasses.
"Uuh...Thanks."
"Okay, now that everybody's here, let's get to it", Ryan clapped his hands as he sat down on one of the chairs in the meeting room. "Let's go over the script one more time while we wait for Brad and Ian to get here."
We both sat there, scripts at hand, reading scene by scene. Suddenly, Darren leaned in a bit closer to me.
"Lunch is still a go, right?"
Oh dear god, help me. Darren Criss might be every girl's dreamboat, and he actually was mine also at the moment. But for my sake and everyone else's, please help me forget about these feelings I have for him. It sucks to be in love. Everything else seemed complicated. And I don't want to ruin my life now. No, not after my parents sacrificed a lot for me. No, after I worked my ass off just to reach where I am today. No, not until after I have proven those people who didn't believe in me wrong. That I was right, and they were so badly wrong. So please, please, please.
Please, help me fall out of love with him.
"Of course", I smiled awkwardly.
Great, just great.
A/N: This chapter sucked. It was messy and stuff. And I half-assedly finished this last night, at around 1:30 or so. So, please excuse the incoherent babblings. Well, this was supposed to be a filler of some sort. The next chapter's where the real story begins. XD
And sorry if the paragraphs are all sort of run-ins together! I just figured that Chris is a real talker when other people are around, well, he did come from a Speech and Debate Club, not to mention he writes and he acts. So there you have it! :D
Do review. Tell me what you think. :/
