Guest: How could kurt hide being gay? When He speaks and sings, he squeals like a little piglet.
Dear Guest, first of all, thank you for the question and the comment. It turns out that Kurt can't act like himself. He must pretend in this fascist society addressed in this fic. A society where say you can be gay but you can't be gay in public places or you will be arrested. A society in which the people who assume themselves suffer discrimination and social isolation. This is what leads Kurt to pretend to be heterosexual and use Rachel as a beard. Still, as you may have noticed in the dialogues between Rachel and Quinn in Chapter 4 and of Sam and Rachel in Chapter 6, Kurt's staging is not perfect.
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When Rachel saw the message from Santana that self-defense classes would begin, the first thing that came to mind when she learned of the address was that the leader had lost her mind. Rachel thought Santana would teach her in someone's house or even some dark place where no one could witness. But in one of the most exclusive gyms of the city? It was a great surprise for Rachel. She got on a bus and got off at the nearest bus stop. There wasn't a bus line running around every noble neighborhood because apparently the rich didn't ride public transportation. Thankfully the gym was in a shopping center on the block next to the nearest drop. The path itself wasn't unknown. Rachel had done it several times to work on the parties of families like the Fabrays, and on the times she had gone to the Pierces' house.
Rachel looked at the frontage of the academy. External white and green walls, large windows, the view of the ample space of the apparatus room that is clear for those who are outside. People coming in and out with proper clothes and washcloths. Rachel looked at herself: she only had the school's physical education uniform: the same one she wore in athletic training. Judging by the look of contempt from one of the girls she crossed, the uniform wouldn't make a good impression. Not that she cared, but there were times when the eyes of judgment were heavy, especially those who denounced social distances. In church people said that everyone is equal before God, but the world outside the temple door it was quite different.
"I'd like to speak to Santana Lopez, please. We set a timetable..." Rachel said shyly to the receptionist: a skinny black girl very well dressed in the gym's own clothes uniform. Of those in which the logo is well stamped, as of a famous brand.
"Your name?
"Rachel Berry."
The recepcionist checked in a handwritten note.
"So, you're San's girl. You can come in." The recepcionist said with a smile, showing simplicity of who didn't belong to that world at all. She only worked on it. It was a feeling that Rachel knew very well. "My name is Bianca." The girl smiled as she asked Rachel to accompany her inside. "You can scream for me if Santana is mean to you. She's bad with lots of people here. Even with those who don't deserve it."
"That's my Santana..." Rachel thought.
They went upstairs where the academy was divided into some rooms. There was a pilates session going on in one of them. In another, a small group of four students plus the coach did some of these fashionable aerobic activities. And yet there was the weight room that was not full. Santana was in the room that had a mat. She was dressed in a black knit shirt and white martial arts pants. Bianca knocked on the door before opening unceremoniously with an impressed Rachel.
"Your order, San. She seems to be a good girl... don't be mean to her."
"I'm a lady!" Santana responded with false surprise at the insinuation. "The bitch of this place is you."
"Go on!" Bianca smiled before turning her back and leaving.
Rachel stared at Santana as if she were an alien, her feet stuck in the space next to the door, too impressed to move.
"I know that what you do in the time you aren't in school or with us is a mystery... to me in particular... but I never imagined that you could attend such a place."
"Want to breathe, dwarf?" Santana put her hands around her waist.
"So far I will be dwarf here too?!" Rachel said with false indignation. Santana would be able to call her any degrading nickname even in an official event. Either that or Berry.
"The day you grow five centimeters, I stop calling you a dwarf." Santana smiled discreetly. She knew her mean acts were sometimes funny. She greeted the mat before leave it and heading to Rachel. "I want you to know that none of this officially has to do with buttons. OK? It's between you and me and it needs to be clear." Rachel nodded. "I'll train you for you. That simple. I don't want to see you get caught in the street."
"As for that, I'm grateful. I just didn't understand why here? I didn't even know you went to this gym. Not that it's bad, but I'm surprised... that's it."
"I guess I can tell a exposition before we start to work." Santana smiled. "This is Master Marcus gym."
"I still don't understand..."
"When I was a kid, I was part of this social project sponsored by Master Marcus, who is one of the partners in that place. He taught Taekwondo to the kids in my neighborhood. I was about six when I started practice. My father thought it was a great option to make me expend a little energy: I was small and skinny, but I could climb the house and still jump on the neighbor's roof. My mother went crazy, well, you know her. So I started to do the classes and soon I stood out. It turns out that Master Marcus is a button..."
"He was the one who recruited you? I thought it was Mr. Pierce."
"Mr. Pierce made me official as a button when I was 10, but it was Master Marcus who saw potential in me. I started to practice more things than taekwondo... but that's another story. Well, the social project was closed down in my neighborhood, but once a week the kids from these poorer areas come here and have some fun, you know? And I teach them."
"Is that a button work?"
"No. I mean, ideologically you can say yes, but it's not official, you know? This is not a sieve for recruitment. It's just something to help kids like me. The kids have fun here and I have fun with them. That is the purpose."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"It never occurred to me."
"Your parents have never say anything either."
"I asked them not to. Anyway, not that it's a secret, but it's my thing and I don't like to talk about it out there."
"Simple like that?" Rachel asked in amazement at how such information could be beaten.
"Simple like that!" Santana took Rachel's bag and tossed it against her friend's chest, not very gently. "I'll show you where the locker room is. We don't have much time to spare."
"And you can teach other people here?"
"I don't work here, Rachel. I'm not an employee. Technically, the gym's administration gives me space for social work with the kids and, as courtesy, I can use the space to practice. I've never done this before, but I'm sure there's no problem at all. We're going to work at a time when this room will be empty and Marcus won't deny me giving a free pass to someone else. Especially someone who talks to buttons."
"You mean you'll still be my master, after all?" Rachel grinned.
"Technically I can only be called kyo san nim, means that I'm an instructor. It's what my Dan allows." Santana was a Ee Dan, a second degree black belt.
"You're full of surprises, San."
"We are wasting time with so many questions. In 45 minutes, the kids are coming."
Rachel shifted quickly. The short time didn't allow Santana to devote herself better to her now student and all she did was to teach some fall and rolling exercises. Rachel tried to complain, thinking that this was less than she could assimilate. After all, she had trained on the mattress in athletics three times a week. But Rachel still didn't understand certain precepts of the martial arts, that before giving a punch, it was necessary to know how to fall.
The kids arrived. Four girls and six boys between seven and eleven years old. Everyone with lots of energy to spend. Two already had a yellow belt and one in the green, which indicated that they had been on the project for some time. As Rachel stood in a corner of the mat, training falls and bearings, she flushed in embarrassment when the green belt kid, the eldest of the group, began correcting her with patience and politeness. It wasn't dishonor. In martial arts, what counts is the degree and not the age. Rachel didn't even have a dobok, the taekwondo uniform, which meant she was under a white belt.
At the end of the class, the kids had a little recreation. Rachel was amazed to see Santana playing with one of the girls: easy smile on her face. One that was rare to see. She thought that only Brittany was capable of pulling one of those from the leader. Rachel's heart nearly melted at the sight, so she shook her head as she caught herself admiring too much. Having a crush on Santana would be strange and complicated in several ways. It was better to even think about it.
"Let's go?" Santana said after changing her clothes. She was back in the normal sexy and chic teenage costume she always wore when she wasn't in a cheerleader's uniform. She put on her leather jacket and offered Rachel a helmet.
"Are you going to give me a ride? On your bike?"
"What's the problem?"
"How am I going to explain this at home? Puck thinks if you get less than a meter away from me, you would be able to rip my head off and make barbecue from my soft parts. He can be suspicious."
"That's not so important."
"Since when? You said that we shouldn't be closer in school."
"That's not so important anymore, that's what I mean. It's not that you are a complete stranger to me in the eyes of other people. We are together in glee club and we can be allied from time to time."
"So you're going to leave me at home?"
"Or I can drop you off near your home." Santana blinked and threw a helmet at Rachel.
Of course with Santana, nothing was so simple. Rachel needed to carry the leader's backpack on her back and still hold her own with one arm while with the other she clutched at Santana's waist as if her life depended on it. It wasn't that she was afraid of motorcycles, but the ones she used to hitchhike once in a while, read Sam's moped, was much slower, especially with two people.
Santana left Rachel at the entrance of the street where she lived. The leader decided it was best to avoid questioning look from the brown shirt, a.k.a Noel Puckerman. Rachel was still amazed to know more about the leader's story. Santana was so closed, even her friends, that Rachel thought it impossible to get any information out, even if it wasn't a secret. It sharpened her curiosity. Rachel wanted to know why Santana decided to train her only after she'd picked up Quinn and even if some other member knew this other side. She wanted to know so many other things about the buttons, the group, the leader. Rachel understood, on the other hand, that she had to have patience.
She entered the house. Natalie ran to embrace her excited to have been chosen as the lead actress of a children's play she would make at school. Rachel was happy for her foster sister, of whom she was nice.
"Mrs. Spencer left a message for you," Anna informed Rachel. "It looks like she wants to pay you for tutoring her boy."
"Great!" Rachel thanked her foster mom. "Private lessons give the best money."
"It's been three weeks since you got anything," Anna said roughly.
"I don't always get jobs in a row." Rachel tried to control her voice in the subtle collection of the tutor.
"Still, you love being late. Not to mention that you sleep in your boyfriend's house. For this you have time, don't you?"
"It's just that I spent a little more time with Kurt and my friends..."
"You know I don't mind you spending your nights with your little boyfriend, Rachel. But everything has a limit. It won't work if you just have fun and don't help with things from here."
"I don't stop doing things here, and I always give money to you when I have some."
Rachel said firmly, still in a low, respectful tone. The desire was to throw in Anna's face that the most money in the budget that she received from the government was solely and exclusively because of her. It was compensation for the act of 'altruistic' in receiving orphans at home. That should be enough, but Anna always demanded that Rachel contribute financially whenever she got a job. To avoid further fights, Rachel agreed to give some of what she get, the other part she kept in a savings account.
"I don't like it ... something tells me you're getting into trouble."
"I never brought a problem here, Anna. No school complaints, nothing!" Rachel rehearsed a stronger reaction.
"It's just a warning, Rachel. I know you're responsible enough and I give you all the freedom you need. Just don't bring confusion into this house." Seeing the girl's firm face, Anna pondered. "Sorry... things are getting harder and harder, money is getting shorter and getting worse. Now, Noah has this idea of enlist as an agent."
"You don't want him to go into the security forces?"
"I don't want him to get hurt. That's it. These terrorists are getting worse and worse."
Rachel understood what was behind the sudden attack of concern of the matriarch and relaxed her body. She offered to help with the cleaning, but not before returning the call and book the private lesson that would give her a good money. The balance of the day was positive, even inspiring, but the tiredness took over the body. She just needed a shower and a bed.
...
Santana and Rachel met when they were 11. It was Senator Pierce, Brittany's father, who introduced them. Rachel became a button a year later. But the first ones that would become buttons that Rachel met were Matt and Kurt, well before Santana. Rachel's parents were in the Ruttherford coffee shop and Matt was always around. They were never exactly friends, but they were nice to each other. She met Kurt when she was nine when they studied singing with the same teacher, Mrs. Blanche, at a time when community leader Burt Hummel even dreamed of meeting Carole Hudson.
As for the others, they met at school. Rachel and Sam didn't talk, until the day he, on the football team, went to the Puckerman house to do a school work. But as Puck wasn't an academically interested person, the project partnership received a third person who had the concealed name: Rachel Berry. That's when Sam and Rachel became friends: doing English homework together, even if she had nothing to do with it.
Tina Chang, a good observer she was, said that Rachel and Sam had good chemistry, even thought Rachel never disguised the crush on Finn Hudson, in addition, she happened to act like Kurt Hummel's girlfriend. Sam Evans kind of liked Rachel, but he never allowed himself to see her more than a close friend. The point is that knowing the truth about Rachel's relationships made them both get closer.
At school, the first thing Sam did when she saw Rachel was a good morning hug, which she responded promptly, until she caught the suspicious looks of Finn and Puck. It was when she fell on herself: she was still someone's girlfriend and people could start talking. This made her break the embrace and push Sam deliberately.
"What's wrong?" Sam was confused.
"I'll talk to you later..." Rachel walked over to Kurt and kissed him with a little more enthusiasm than they used to play at school.
"Does this have to do with the hug you received from someone who is not your boyfriend?" Kurt smiled and Rachel frowned. "Mercedes called me twice yesterday to tell me a cryptic message that I should open my eyes to you. Apparently she saw you and Sam walking through the park together."
"Sorry about that..." Rachel said quietly as the two walked hand in hand through the hallway.
"What is a dating without some public crisis to entertain other people? And then..." She whispered into her friend's ear. "I think our relationship needs a hint of drama."
In the meantime, the cheerios pass by the false couple and Brittany winks at them both. Santana, further back, looks at Rachel and Kurt and then looks up at Sam and shakes her head. Rachel knew that, unlike Kurt, Santana hated say anything at school because she was against drawing attention from others to the buttons. That's why she hid as subaltern of Quinn Fabray, even though she knew she was a natural leader. A love triangle, even if false, wasn't something Santana would approve of.
Rachel and Kurt, on the other hand, seemed to amuse themselves with the possibility of playing a drama at school. But the smiles ceased when Quinn appeared in the hallway to her locker. The heavy makeup barely disguised the bruise on her face, and the scarf was a strange accessory for a hot day. Quinn, knowing that eyes rested on her, decided to control herself and act in that little school world. She picked up her books and passed her colleagues as if they didn't exist.
"Did you hear anything about Quinn?" Rachel discreetly asked Kurt.
"Santana didn't said a word about it, but I have other sources. Tina said, that Mercedes said, that a cheerio said, that Quinn has an affair with an older man with a very heavy hand."
"Oh my God!"
"I don't doubt anything in this world. I heard back home, that Finn will break up with her."
"Because?"
"Is that a question, Rach? The gossip circulates. My brother is not as naive as he appears."
"I know, it's just..." Rachel paused to see Quinn in the distance. "I'm really sorry for her. No one deserves to go through this."
"Go and comfort her then!" Kurt challenged.
"I'd even be willing to give Quinn a friendly word, but I'm afraid she wouldn't accept my gesture of friendship."
"Even more so if Finn broke up with her today."
"If the rumors are true, I think that's the least of her problems."
"Really? Well, time to go to class, my love."
Kurt lightly kissed his fake-girlfriend's face and went to watch his first class. Rachel's room was two doors down. But she stopped in the hallway for a moment. Finn was talking to Puck at the door of a classroom, Mercedes passed by the diva and called her into class with Artie, Mike, and Tina. The students were already settled in, and at last Quinn entered and sat in the back of the room. Rachel avoided looking at the girl, even if she tried, she knew Quinn would be ready to say any insult. Something that, unlike Santana's empty curses, would be said to try to actually hurt. Rachel had come to the conclusion that, whatever the reason, Quinn was just a sad girl who desperately needed help. But she didn't know how she could approach a person who apparently despised her. Rachel found, finally, that paying attention to class and not thinking about Quinn was the best deal. A pity, for Rachel herself, that in the course of the teacher's boring explanations, she couldn't help but look discreetly back to see if the fellow collegue was okay. Until then Rachel never really think about it, but maybe she cared about Quinn.
