This is a long one. Yay! (:
This is a background chapter on Mercedes and Tina. I'd put it all in Italics but I feel like that would get on you guys' nerves.
P.S. I know who the creator of Vogue is but I decided to make up the character anyway. (:
Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.
Hope you like...
EARLIER THAT SUMMER
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MERCEDES
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Kurt walked into his shared loft with a coffee and a grin. He had asked Rachel and Blaine to call Mercedes, Tina, Santana, and Sam and have them come to the apartment. It was a Wednesday night so they were all confused as to why they had to be there.
"OK. Everyone sit down." He talk-yelled to the rowdy adults before walking to the kitchen to set his coffee down.
Blaine stood in the kitchen as well, with a bottle of water in hand. Kurt pecked him on the lips before shooing him off to the living room.
Kurt walked over and stood in front of the group, eyes comically wide. When he got excited he tended to resemble Tweety Bird.
"What's going on, Lady Hummel?" Santana asked, seated on the couch in between Tina and Mercedes with Blaine standing behind them.
"Mhm." Sam nodded, sitting in the chair to the right. "I thought Monday night dinners were on Mondays," he said, looking confused. "Is Monday night dinners not on Monday's anymore, 'cause I'm not sure how that would work..."
Everyone gave him a funky look.
"You can't have Monday night dinners on a Wednesday, Kurt," he added, as if it were obvious.
Kurt shook his head, ignoring him and began, . "Well. Today Isabelle told me that I could choreograph a photo-shoot for a two-page spread in the magazine." He was gesturing widely with excitement. "I just have to use certain designers clothing and write a fantastic article on them." He finished, leaving out details for amusement.
Santana rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Did you bring us here just so we could watch you listen to yourself talk? What does that have to do with us?"
Kurt smiled at her, not letting her sour personality ruin him today. "Well, Satan. She also told me that I could choose the models." His smile grew wider.
Everyone eyes grew wide. Then the girls exploded. Blaine and Sam smiled broadly, trying to keep the 'man' in the room. Tina and Mercedes stood, clutching hands and screaming, while Rachel jumped up from her seat opposite Sam to thank Kurt with kisses to the cheek.
Santana had to yell just to get words out. "WAIT, WAIT, WAIT."
When the room finally stood relatively quite, Santana spoke again, asking the question everyone wanted to know. "Do we get to keep the clothes?," she asked nervously. She looked at him sideways, hoping on everything the answer was yes.
Kurt lifted his head as if he had to think about it before nodding his head, vigorously. "OBVIOUSLY!"
His answer led to more squeals, hand clutching and face kissing.
...
...
Kurt was told that he only had a week and a half before they started shooting. He was scared shitless.
This was his first photo-shoot and Isabelle was counting on him. He couldn't let her down.
You'd think the most stressful part of all this would be finding a studio, or booking more models. No. The worst part were Kurt's friends! He had never wanted to kill them more in his entire life. They did nothing for him; they in fact made everything harder.
"OHMYGOSH, Kurt, this is so cute. I want to wear it." Rachel said, shoving an orange with purple stripped pant suit in his face.
Kurt wanted to kick her. "No, Rachel. You're suppose to be looking at skirts!"
"Kurt, I'm just going to take like all these dresses because I look like a fucking queen in each and every one of them," Santana said with five dresses folded over her shoulder.
Kurt's eyes almost flew out of his socket. He dropped his note-filled clip board and ran to her, grabbing the dresses away. "Do you know how expensive these are? You can't just carry them around like their your rag-doll!," he exclaimed, looking at her as if she were an eight year old child.
"Ok, calm down, lady trousers," she said, rolling her eyes at his aggressive tone. She went right back to clawing at the dresses.
What Kurt saw next almost made him want to pull all of his wonderfully coiffed chestnut hair out. "SAM EVENS," his voice was incredibly high yet equally frightening. "YOU. DO NOT. PUT ON. WOMAN'S. HEELS!"
He has never seen a week and a half go by so fast. Kurt has been subject to these out-of-body experiences for awhile now and he felt as if he were going absolutely mad.
When the day finally came however, Kurt felt relatively controlled. He was ready to kick this pretty little photo shoot in the ass. Granted his nerves were bad and he was shaking slightly. But he was still ready and set to go.
Kurt was currently standing next to the camera, on the day of the photo-shoot. He looked down at his clip bored; making sure every thing was in place, when a strong and comfortable set of hands began to massage his shoulders. He could smell Blaine's glorious scent from anywhere.
"You need to relax, Kurt," Blaine whispered softly in his ear.
With Kurt's shoulders under Blaine's hands, he did feel somewhat more relaxed. Kurt leaned his head back slightly, giving into the hands. "This has been the longest and the hardest week of my life," he stressed aloud.
Blaine smiled and turned Kurt toward him, looking him eye-to-eye. "It's almost over," he said simply.
Kurt paused to actually considering the thought of all this ending. Granted is was hard and very draining, but Kurt secretly loved these feelings. He'd much rather have to stress over which outfit to pick for one of the models, than turning in some 20-paged essay. "Which makes me extremely melancholy," he noticed. "I mean yeah, it's been crazy, but I've also never had so much fun before," he said honestly, his hear warming at the fortunate stress.
Blaine smiled at him.
Kurt laughed, glaring at him playfully. "I see what you did there."
Blaine nodded his head proudly, happy he could put a smile on Kurt's face.
Kurt glanced down at his watch and then momentarily panicked. He yelled out to the crowd of models, photographers, and techs. "30 MINUTES, PEOPLE. GET READY. THIS HAS TO BE PERFECT!"
Blaine chuckled at the man. "I love you," he said as he watched Kurt stress with passion.
Kurt blushed. "I love you too."
"Kurt. Can I speak to you for a second?" Isabelle said, surprising everyone with her presence.
Kurt nodded, giving Blaine a look before walking over to her, worried. "Yes?," he said slowly.
"You're doing really, really well, considering it's your first run," she said.
Kurt smiled at her words, knowing she wasn't here to just compliment him. "Thank you. I really want this to be great." He said, nervously.
"It will be."
Kurt smiled wider. She was most definitely his 'fairy godmother'. "Is that why you wanted to talk or is there something wrong?" As he asked her, he began to freak out. He worked so hard. He payed attention to every detail. Nothing can be wrong!
Isabelle shook her head, grabbing his wrist. She could see his wheels turning. "No, Kurt. There is nothing wrong. You are doing a fantastic job."
Kurt let out a sigh. "Ok. So what did you want to say?," he asked innocently.
Isabelle paused for a moment, obviously cautioning herself. "I think you're brilliant and I love watching you work..." She trailed off.
Kurt raised an eyebrow, sensing the but. "But..."
"But the designers that have stopped by and saw what you were doing with their clothes, didn't necessarily agree with that opinion."
"Oh." Kurt was confused as to why they would be so cold, considering how wonderful a shoot it was. He decided to go for Bohemian Chic. Everyone was different and they all represented a different lifestyle. It worked beautifully. But he knew the business and knew he had to cater to the designers. "Ok" He said slowly, spurn to change. "What do they not like about it? How- how can I fix it?" he asked, knowing Isabelle would help him.
Isabelle smiled fondly at his readiness to learn more. "They love the idea; absolutely adore it. It's just," her smile faltered. "One of the models; one of your models, doesn't quite fit the clothes they want featured in the magazine."
He was confused. "What?" His friends looked absolutely amazing in the clothes. "Who? They all look beautiful."
Isabelle sighed. "I'm going to be as straight as I can be with you, Kurt. You're friend; the bigger one," she nodded towards a smiling Mercedes as Kurt's heart dropped. "The designers don't want her." She looked sad but her voice was hard.
Kurt's eyebrows drew forward in a frown. "That's ludicrous. Mercedes Jones is a star. She is curvaceous and beautiful, and if these close-minded designers don't like that, then they can suck it because she's staying." He said a little too quickly, not caring enough to realize he just said the words 'suck it' in front of his boss.
Isabelle didn't say anything. She knew Kurt would come to the right conclusion.
Kurt wasn't stupid. He knew that the designers had the final say and if he wanted to keep this gig, he would have to handle the situation. Kurt sighed slightly defeated. "What do you want me to do: push her to the back. I can't just kick her out!"
Isabelle looked at him sadly. "Kurt," she started in her I'm-handing-out-wisdom voice. "In this industry, you are going to have to make choices. Choices that are wrong and choices you don't agree with. However, that's the job."
Kurt hated that she was right. Dammit! Why hadn't he thought of this? Probably cause Mercedes is gorgeous and anybody would love to be as beautiful and confident as her!
Isabelle squared her shoulders and looked him right in the eye. "You have to make choices that will hurt people and that will help people. If you can't do that, then your'e in the wrong profession, honey."
Kurt shook his head. If he were in charge, he would march up to those no-good designers and pop them in the throat. This is harsh and cruel, and Kurt hated that he would have to do this to his friend.
She sat her hand on his shoulder. "Little helpful advice: Don't mix friends with business. It never ends nice." She gave him a pat before walking away.
Kurt through his head back in defeat, letting out a sigh. Not only was he going to have to get rid of one of the models; whom was a very big part of the scene, but he also had to tell his friend something that no one should ever have to hear; especially not from him.
When Kurt turned, he saw Blaine. He wasn't entirely sure what he was thinking, considering he had a look that read 'unreadable'. But what Kurt did know was that Blaine had just heard his boss telling him that he has to get rid of Mercedes do to the way she looks.
"Blaine..." He started without knowing the end. He wasn't sure what to say.
"Are you going to do it?," he asked, his voice even. "Are you really about to go and kick Mercedes out of this photo-shoot?" His voice was deep, as if daring Kurt to say the right answer.
Kurt rubbed the back of his neck. This week needs to be over like NOW! "Blaine, I don't have a choice," he said, defeat evident in his voice. "Please understand."
Blaine looked at him, fury and bewilderment in his eyes. "Understand?," he repeated. "No, I won't understand. Mercedes is beautiful. Any woman would be lucky to be as beautiful inside and out!" His voice wasn't rising, which scared Kurt. "I can't believe you would do that to her; that you would do that to anyone!"
When Blaine was angry and he didn't yell, it meant he was furious and he would have to go boxing. And Kurt hated when Blaine went boxing.
"Blaine. I know Mercedes is beautiful. But like I said before: I have no choice." He really wanted Blaine to see where he was coming from. It wouldn't make telling Mercedes easier but it would make it less hard.
Blaine crossed his arms, shaking his head with disappointment. "You have a choice, Kurt," he said, knowing that, that choice would be the hardest for the taller man. "You do. And you're about to make the wrong one."
Kurt had to believe that Mercedes would understand. This was his dream and opportunities like this don't always fall into your lap. If she didn't understand, Kurt would never be able to forgive himself. He shook his head and whispered: "I have to.."
"No," he said, raising his hand slightly. "And you know what, I don't want to be here when you tell Mercedes Jones that she's not skinny enough to be in some hackneyed magazine."
Kurt let it go. He had to assume Blaine was only saying this out of anger.
Blaine frowned, shaking his head. "I'm leaving," he said as he turned toward the exit.
"Blaine..." Kurt tried but Blaine just shook his head again, leaving the studio.
No matter how much Kurt wanted to go after him, he couldn't. This is something he couldn't worry about now. Granted, he was going to have to do major damage control when he got home, he needed to handle Mercedes first.
Kurt had to take a moment to breath before he walked back into the sea of people.
When he spotted Mercedes, smiling and laughing with the stand by models, his heart began to race. He didn't want to do this.
Kurt sighed heavily before walking over to her. "Mercedes," he began slowly. "I need to talk to you."
Mercedes excused herself as she walked away from the group. She smiled at Kurt widely. "Kurt, this place is amazing," she exclaimed. "Everyone looks so good, and I don't look half bad myself," she joked, obviously knowing she looked stunning. She wore an oxford blue v-neck top, with white sleeves. A beige belt tied neatly over a long ruby red skirt that flowed elegantly. She topped it off marvelously with a beige bowler hat, as she stood barefoot, absolutely amazed. "Rachel is bouncing off the walls, it's hilarious."
Kurt wanted to cry, listening to her talk. She was radiant and he was about to pore pigs blood all over her.
"Oh, I saw Blaine leave, you might want to go get him. I figure we're about to start." She laughed with excitement. "Again, Kurt. I just want to say thank you. This is the coolest thing I have ever done! And I can totally use one of these pictures for my album when it comes out." Her smile couldn't get any bigger.
Kurt looked at her as tears built in his eyes.
Mercedes could obviously see he was about to cry. "What's wrong, boo?" Her voice became soft as she tilted her head.
Kurt took a deep breath before wiping his eyes hard. "I'm sorry."
"What?" Mercedes blinked, not sure why he was apologizing. "What for?"
Kurt stood taller, straightening his back. He had to be strong. He had to do this. "I have to be the one to tell you this, because I love you," he began, sincerity in his eyes. "I think you are one of the most dazzling people I have met, honest. It's just..." He sighed, not sure how to put it as painless as possible. "This is vogue, M. Vogue is viewed by many people. Looked up to by many people. Vogue has been around for many years and has kept up a pretty consistent image." Mercedes had obviously caught on because her face fell noticeably. Kurt's heart was breaking with each word. "Some of the creators of these clothes which whom the magazine helps get customers, don't really want that image to be changed."
Mercedes shook her head slowly. "Fancy way of saying I'm too fat, Kurt" she said bluntly. It wasn't really a question. Just a statement that hurts Kurt worse than her actually accusing him.
She wasn't looking at him. It's as if she lost all respect for Kurt in that very moment.
"I'm not saying that at all, love." His voice broke as he looked into her eyes, praying that she believes him. "I just don't think that this photo-shoot is a very good fit for you." He could hardly get the words out, hating every sound. Kurt Hummel would never do this.
But he was. He was doing this and there is no taking it back.
Mercedes looked him hard in the eyes, hurt evident. "I've been called hateful names; treated badly by many people in my lifetime, Kurt. I'd think you of all people would understand that. I never thought something like this would come from you." She nodded her head, tears forming involuntarily. Mercedes Jones has always been a very strong woman and Kurt can't help but feel like he just tore his best friend down.
Kurt's hand flew to his heart. "I am so, so sorry, M. Please-." He didn't get to finish. Mercedes turned and walked away from the photo-shoot, leaving no room for more conversation.
Kurt has to question if she's actually walking away from their friendship as well.
Kurt gnawed at his bottom lip as he watched another go.
Kurt exhaled deeply; mentally preparing himself, before turning back the models and crew workers. He squared his shoulders for the umpteenth time, ready to get through the shoot. "LET'S GET THIS GOING."
It was ten minutes later. Kurt had been shuffling things around last minute, trying to get everyone in the right places - he was actively trying not to pull out his hair even though he could virtually feel the strands falling without any help- when Santana came up to him with a ferocious madness in her eyes.
Kurt was already stressed enough with Mercedes being dropped and Blaine leaving. He did not have the brain capacity for a random sassy diva bitch moment. "What, Santana? I do not have time for this," he spoke, barely glancing up from his clip board.
"What the hell did you say to Mercedes?," she demanded.
Kurt looked at her briefly before shaking his head. "Not now," he said, turning away from her. He felt awful enough as it is. Having Santana say aloud possibly every negative thought he had, was not something he wanted to hear right now.
Santana tore at his arm, swinging him around to face her. " Why the fuck did she just leave the studio crying, saying: you called her too fat for this damn photo-shoot?" She was seething. Santana may be a complete ass-whole to her friends sometimes, but she did love them. And when Santana loved, she loved assiduously and solid.
Kurt eyes closed at the harsh sentence. "I didn't say that..." he spoke, his voice slow and quiet.
"Then what hell did you say? Because if you don't fix this: I'm leaving, and so are the rest of your friends," she warned, her voice rising.
Kurt eyes widened at the idea. "No, you can't leave! The photo-shoot starts in ten!"
"THEN BRING HER BACK!"
It sounded so simple. And Kurt wanted nothing more than to take it back, but he knew just as well as the designers that he couldn't. "I can't." He tried sounding strong and firm with his choice, however it came out sounding of defeat.
Santana was completely flabbergasted. "Wow, Hummel. I mean this is low, even for you." She turned around.
"You can't just leave, Santana," he said again, trying to stop her.
She turned around, hair whipping. "You'd think that if you have to choose between your friends and some photo-shoot, that you'd actually spare us the hard feelings," she said, laughing humorlessly. "I may be a bitch, but I would never bring my friends up, just to strike them back down again," she finished, shaking her head in disapproval.
She called to Sam, Tina, and Rachel; telling them to come with her.
Kurt stood, watching his friends leave. His heart was currently on the ground, in a corner somewhere, wallowing in agony.
He wasn't worried about loosing models; he had standby models. No, he was worried about the people he called family. He would never intentionally hurt his friends...
Would he?
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TINA
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Kurt Hummel has been working at Vogue Magazine for essentially three years now. He started out as just an intern his freshman year of college. However, now the well-dressed mod gentleman made his way up to 2nd to the Editor-and-Chief; Isabelle Wright. He also had a feature section in the magazine. He hasn't designed anything for said label yet, which almost frightened him, considering the 'moving up' has been on pause this past year. But It all seemed too good to be true for the 21-year old fashionista. He had always been ahead of the curve, so he worried not, worked with the flow, and let life take him on his journey.
Tina Cohen-Chang has been working at Vogue Magazine for about a year and a half. Kurt had actually gotten her the job. "She's my friend. I know she is a solid worker and extremely dependable. There is no one more ideal." Kurt really put in a good word for her. She hasn't jumped the curve nearly as much as Kurt but she was getting paid well and loved what she did.
Kurt walked into his office on a charming Thursday morning. He had his mocha in hand and his bushiness shoulders up. Today was a very important day. The creator of Vogue was stopping by to check on the employees.
His name was Joc Konny. He was a dreadful man. He'd fire people just to see them cry. He wanted his employees to be like him: hard and uncaring. The only person not afraid of him was Isabelle; the Editor-and-Chief. Kurt liked to think it was because they had erotic relations outside Vogue offices; everyone adores a good love story. But he knew it was because Isabelle was a total bad-ass while Joc gave homosexual an utterly unique meaning.
Kurt sat himself down in his seat and began sorting some designs placed on his desk from yesterday. He had to look presentable before Joc arrived. Joc didn't like disorganization. So the man definitely wouldn't care for how it looked on a daily bases; people running around stressed, hair above their heads in ways that could only be described as atrocious. No, not today. Today they were polished and neat.
Kurt tossed his empty coffee cup in the trash just as a small knock was heard from the door. He began work on his laptop as he waved his co-worker in. "Morning, Tina."
"Good morning, Kurt," she greeted, sounding stuffy. "I was just coming to check on you," she began, walking further into his office. "I know last time Joc came, we all almost got fired." She frowned slightly, letting out a cough.
Kurt raised his eyebrow. "Tina, I am fond of your concern, though I like to think Isabelle has my back," he said honestly. "You and I; we worked our asses off to get here. I promise, neither of us is getting fired today." Kurt said this with confidence. He had faith in their skills.
Tina's frown morphed into an extensive smile just before she let out a heart-wrenching sneeze.
Kurt's figure recoiled at the sound; he could have flew out of his seat. His face contorted into a confused yet frightened expression. He studied her for a second before shaking his head slowly. "What the hell was that?"
Tina had to take a deep breath before she spoke. "I'm sorry. I think-" a sniff. "I think I caught something a couple of days ago." She sniffed again, wiping her nose clean with the tissue Kurt hadn't noticed was in her hand.
Kurt eyed, sadly. "What are you doing here, Sweety?," he asked, concern wavering in his voice. "You need to go home and get some rest, right now."
Tina's throat barked again as she shook her head. "You know what happens to people that miss days like this," she explained, referring to Joc's future arrival.
"Tina, you're health is much more important than kissing up to some narcissistic ass-whole!"
Tina sniffed, bringing the tissue she had in her hand up to her face again, blowing hard. "I'm not leaving, Kurt," she said, leaving no room for argument.
Kurt tried again, honestly worried for his friend. "Please, Tina..."
Tina began walking away. "No, Kurt. I am not getting fired today," she finished, leaving before Kurt could say anything.
Kurt looked at the now empty space, shaking his head. "Tina, Tina, Tina," he said aloud. No matter how worried he was for his friend, he admired her mental abundance of strength.
Kurt went back to his computer again, busying himself before Joc's landing.
.
.
TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER
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Kurt tried his damnedest to not drive himself mad. Isabelle usually called meetings about this time, but decided to wait till Joc came. So he tried to distract himself from the hectic nerves running through his body. He cleaned his desk out, made his usual runs, and even stooped to casual conversations with the interns for no absolute reason, only to come back to his office with 35 minutes having gone by. He decided he would check his emails. All kinds of people try to get in contact with Kurt: designers, wanna-be-designers, etc, etc. What better way waste time?
Just as he opened his account, an email from Tina appeared..
.
.
FROM: Tina
To: Kurt Hummel
SUBJECT: Joc, the boss man...
.
.
He's Here.
.
It's only two words yet it still made Kurt's leg bounce to an impossible rhythm. Joc was here. Joc was in the building and Kurt had no more coffee. This day was going to be preposterous.
Kurt inhaled deeply as he mentally readied himself as best he could. Time all of a sudden decided to take a break and move unnecessarily slow.
He continued to study his email, not entirely sure if he had fully comprehended yet.
After thirty minutes of the ominous man not being seen by Kurt, he began to grow weary. Was he ever going to hear from this man or not?
Just as he thought it, there was another knock on his door. Tina stood next to Joc, looking rather anxious. "This is Kurt Hummel's office," she said as politely as she can, sounding even worse than before.
Kurt stood, welcoming them into the room. Tina held back as Joc walked further into Kurt's office. The handsome man wore a white button up; top buttons unbuttoned, with a orange blazer. He had tan khaki's on with an even tanner set of loafers. His hair was obviously dyed brown considering his black roots. It was coiffed, however not nearly as perfect as Kurt's. The way he stood made him look like a taller version of Chuck Bass, only more douche; if that were possible.
Joc stood directly in front of Kurt; opposite his desk. He lifted a hand. "Go fetch us some coffee, dear," he spoke to Tina, not burdening himself with a glance back.
Kurt had to physically try and not make a face at the man. Joc was rude, for no absolute reason. If there's one thing Kurt despised, it was injustice.
Tina let out another cough before sliding out of the door, doing as she was told.
Joc leaned in closer, resting his hands on Kurt's desk. He stood face-to-face with Kurt and didn't even bat an eyelash. "Nice office," he began smoothly. "If I knew you well enough I'd say it looked just like you." Kurt wasn't sure if it was a line or not but the way Joc was looking is the reason it was brought into question in the first place.
If Kurt were honest, this man was gorgeous. His voice was velvet and could probably make anyone melt. However, seeing as he hasn't been in Kurt's office no more than ten minutes and he already came off as a dick, spoke otherwise. Fuckery and douche-baggery is an immediate turnoff. Hell, the man didn't even introduce himself. Kurt shook his head slightly. "Thank you," he said formally. "Working hard really does pay off." He sounded slightly sassy. He didn't like this man.
Joc eyed him for a second before his mouth curved into an obnoxious smirk. "You work with Izi, right?"
Kurt took in a breath, crossing his arms as he stood up slightly straighter. Joc just brought up his job. "Indirectly," he informed.
"Mm," he hummed with a nod. He looked into Kurt's eyes, ideally thinking it meant something. "You like it? You're ok with where you are?," he asked, tilting his head slightly.
Kurt's face scrunched up in confusion. "Of course I like my job, sir" he said as if it were obvious. "And there's always a reason to work harder."
Joc's smirk has yet to waver. The man began walking slowly around Kurt's desk. "Can I just say," he began, looking at Kurt in places no boss should. "Those pants should be worn by no one but you." He chuckled at his own joke, moving in closer to Kurt. "Or you know, not you. If you catch my drift." He lifted his eyebrows before winking suggestively at Kurt.
Kurt Hummel was shocked. It was very rare; Kurt being left unable to speak. Why does this happen to him? These amazingly attractive men have the worst possible personalities and they think that because of the fact, they have the right to be a dick to anyone they want. This man was blunt and an ass-whole at it's very finest. Joc was his boss and yet he was flirting with him in ways only Blaine was allowed.
Saved by the bell, Tina walked in with their coffees. "Here you go...," her voice trailed off slightly at the sight.
"Thank you, Tina," Kurt said nervously.
Tina eyed him as she set down the coffees. Just as she let the cups go, she let out another one of those heart breaking sneezes that could most likely blow your brains out.
Joc jumped back as Kurt shook his head sadly. Joc turned to Tina looking at her as if she were a lunatic. All he did was look at her. He didn't speak, just watched. Obviously he wanted her to leave and never come back.
Tina took a deep breath before turning shamefully and walking out of Kurt's office.
Joc turned back to Kurt, moving forward. He looked at him as if they shared some deep intimate secret.
Kurt's eyeballs started roll and glare before he had to refocus. This was one of his bosses.
"Fire her."
Kurt blinked. He wasn't easily grasping what the taller man said, considering how awful it sounded. And the fact that he was closing in on Kurt; forcing him trapped against the wall behind his desk, didn't really help the situation either. "What?," he asked slowly, eyes wide.
Joc moved in closer. Kurt could now feel his breath on his cheek and let me tell you, it was hot. Kurt didn't ask to come into work this morning only to be forced into a makeshift sauna!
Joc leaned in to whisper in Kurt's ear. "Fire her," he said again, and actually had the audacity to lick Kurt's ear.
Kurt didn't like this at all. "One: This is beyond inappropriate. You are my boss," he said, slightly angry at the harassment. "Personal space should be virtuous." This man had no right. Who does he think he is? "And two: Why in hell would I fire her?," he asked, apparently not caring that Joc had the potential to ruin his career.
Joc let out a low chuckle, not moving away from Kurt in the slightest. "How 'bout I make you a deal, mate?," he smiled.
Kurt let out a breath in which Joc open his mouth, breathing it in. Kurt closed his mouth immediately, disgusted by the tall man. "What?," he spat.
Joc's face grew into a wider smile as he felt Kurt grow more annoyed. "Fire her and you got yourself next in line for Editor-and-Chief," he said, causing Kurt's eyes to bug out. "Or don't fire her and stay where you are. Stay at this level, where I know full and well that you know," He enunciated the words unnecessarily. "This is as far as you go," he finished with a smug smile.
Kurt stayed silent for a second, not sure how to respond.
Joc placed his hands on Kurt's hips domestically. "I know this industry. I know the people and I know how to make it. With my help, babe," he licked his own lips. "You can have anything you want."
This man might very well be a sociopath. Kurt didn't know how to respond to this guy. It's as if he did things just to get a laugh. It didn't matter who he hurt; or in Kurt's case: who he harassed. If it put a smile on his own face, no love lost. Selfish bastard. Kurt was angry.
Kurt leaned in, lips seconds a way from each other. He whispered against the mans lips. "I have everything I want. However, in this moment, what I want is for you to remove your hands from around my waist." He gave his best bitch glare. "I have half a mind to pop my knee and remove any chances of you ever having children. And then proceed to sue you for sexual harassment." Kurt looked him dead in the eyes, disgust and hate written on his face. Kurt really wished Blaine was here so he could make this man afraid.
Joc backed away, chuckling. He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright," he said, beginning to walk to the door. "But you will fire her," he nodded, knowing Kurt wouldn't decline his offer. "I know people like you: you're smart and wise. You won't let some assistant stay just so you can make her happy; not when your career is at stake." Joc looked Kurt dead in the eyes, pronouncing every word. "You. Want. To. Win."
Kurt came up short. He was wrong, Joc had to be wrong. However, the devil on Kurt's shoulder was currently chewing his earlobe away, and Kurt didn't know how to fight it.
Joc stood at the door. "We're just alike, you and me. You'll do anything to get to the top." He smiled. "Don't let me down, Hummel," he finished, tapping the door before walking out of his office.
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Kurt stood motionless for what felt like an hour, which in actuality was only about eight minutes.
He couldn't fire Tina. Tina was his friend. They've known each other since high school. He couldn't just throw that out the window for just some raise.
But that's just it. It wasn't just some raise. This was his dream. He was so close, he could almost feel it. Kurt felt his eyes water at not only the thought of taking away one of the things that helps his friend pay for college, but also at how much he wanted this. How much he wanted to be the next Editor-and-Chief. "It's not fair," he cried aloud. It's not fair that he has to take away someone else's dream just to fulfill his own.
Maybe Joc was right. They were alike. Maybe Kurt was a selfish douche-bag. This is just like with Mercedes. It was the coiffed hair that ruined it for him. The hairspray has gone to his head and now he's thinking nonsensical.
Before he could drive himself even madder, Tina knocked on the door. "Hey, honey," she said sympathetically.
Kurt looked up at her as he sat down at his desk. "Hey." He sighed.
Tina coughed into her tissue as she came closer. "How was it?," she asked, concerned for her friend.
Kurt sighed and looked down. "Draining."
Tina nodded in complete understanding. "Well, he left our floor, so I think I'm just gonna head home," she spoke, sniffling.
As Tina began walking out, Kurt's voice spoke quietly. "You're fired."
Tina turned around rubbing her nose aggressively with he tissue. "What? Sorry, my ears are crazy stopped up. What'd you say?," she asked, sweetly.
Kurt looked in her eyes again before turning away. He knew what he was about to do and yet his brain wouldn't stop him from saying it. "I'm- I'm firing you, Tina," he said louder and slower.
Tina let her hand fall from her face. "What?"
Kurt couldn't bring himself to look at her. "... I'm sorry..."
Tina shook her head. "You... You're firing me?," she couldn't believe her stuffed up ears. She looked at him, leaning down to look him in the eyes. Kurt wouldn't even meet her eyes, which only enraged her further.
"At lease look at me when you do it!," her voice was hard and bitter.
Kurt hated himself. He had no words for this.
"Do you remember the conversation-" she sniffed. "We had right before Joc came in?" She coughed. "You promised me neither one of us is getting fired today," Cough. "And then YOU of all people," Sneeze. "GO AND FIRE ME?!," she started yelling, but began coughing historically instead.
Kurt could have cried at the sight. He knew how angry she was but she really sounded sick and miserable. It broke his heart to pieces and he wished he could take back everything. But his future was on the line and it turns out Kurt Hummel thought Kurt Hummel was a selfish bastard and so he had to act like one. He stood with his arms out, trying to assuage his own guilt and make his friend feel better. "Tina... I'm-"
Tina shook her head. "Don't you dare apologize to me." Tears fell down her face as he stood and looked deep into Kurt's eyes. She squared her shoulder, wiped her nose, and spoke. "Some friend," she said before walking out.
Kurt watched her leave. "Dammit!" He slammed his fist down on the table and slumped in his chair. He might have just screwed over one of the sweetest people he's ever known.
But he had to think of his long-run; his future. That is what inevitably stopped him from running after Tina.
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Well, that's it for chapter two. I promise, it'll get better. ^.^ Leave a review and tell me what you think so far. (:
Next chapter: The Amnesia! (:
Btw: If you like this story, send me a prompt. I'd love to include you guys in this.