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For Dolly (:
"Sparks Fly" and "You Belong With Me" belong to Taylor Swift.
"Don't You" belongs to Darren Criss
Part 07: Warbler
A few hours before his first practice with the Warblers, Sebastian dragged Devon to one the Dalton's empty practice rooms and forced the other boy to help him practice.
"Have you ever done a capella before?" Devon asked, sitting down on the piano bench while Sebastian shut and locked the door.
"No," Sebastian admitted, and then considered. "Well, not beyond singing in the shower. And sometimes with you, or when I'm driving or distracted and don't realize I'm singing. When I'm fine-tuning lyrics. Not professionally, thought."
Devon nodded. "It's important to remember you don't have anything to fall back on, and you need to listen. You won't have a piano or guitar to correct your pitch."
"The Warblers create their own accompaniment," Sebastian pointed out.
"True," Devon said. "But that also means it's very easy to throw each other off. Let's try something. What are you auditioning with?"
"I'm not auditioning," Sebastian said. "I was invited to join." He relented. "I will perform a piece at my first meeting. I was thinking 'Sparks Fly.'"
Devon grinned. "You never cease to amaze me," he said, for no apparent reason.
Sebastian raised his brow. "Is that a problem?"
"No," Devon said. "Are you ready? I'll give you the starting note. You take it from there. Are you ready?"
"Always," Sebastian said. The single piano note hung in the air like a bell's clear ring, and Sebastian started to sing.
"The way you move is like a full on rainstorm, and I'm a house of cards."
Sebastian focused on his chest and throat, on the shape of his mouth and the air he breathed. The sound was dark and needy, close to begging and almost hoarse with desire. He avoided looking at Devon. He knew what the other boy looked like when Sebastian performed, the open delight at the music and friendship that flushed his cheeks and brightened his eyes. It made traitorous hope fill him, but this was work. Getting distracted by his sexy best friend was off the table.
"Oh, baby, smile … And the sparks fly ..."
He finished, and looked back at Devon. There was the fond grin he was expecting.
"I don't know why you asked for help," Devon complimented him. "You were amazing, as always. Your voice gives me chills, Bas."
Sebastian smiled back at him. "You want to join me, this time."
"I can't," Devon said, looking at the door and then the piano.
"The room is soundproof," Sebastian said. "No one will know. Come on, Killer. Live a little."
Devon bit his lip. "One song," he said, turning to fully sit at the piano.
"'Don't You,'" Sebastian said immediately. No one had ever accused him of being subtle. "I'll start. Come on, Dev, we've got the room for another hour. Let's make the most of it."
They played right up until the Warblers' meeting at four. After their duet, Sebastian did not have to coax Devon into singing. Devon played the melody to a new song he was writing, and Sebastian talked about his hopes for his new album.
"Do you think it's too obvious if I write a song called 'Like a Girl,' that it's about Jaimie Gelleher?"
Devon said, "Sometimes I can't tell if you're joking, and it worries me."
Sebastian grinned. "I could write a song called 'Sex on a Stick,' instead."
"I could write a song called, 'My Best Friend is a Psychopath, Why am I Okay with That?'"
Sebastian considered. "I think it has potential."
"My best friend thinks he's a rock star,
He drives around in a fancy European car
He pops his collar, he thinks he's so cool-
Doesn't he realize we're at a private school?" Devon crooned.
"What does that have to do with being a psychopath?" Sebastian critiqued.
"I admit, it's in the early stages." Devon smiled. "That'll be the chorus, anyway."
When the alarm on Sebastian's phone went off, signifying the end of their jam session, they packed up reluctantly.
"Good luck," Devon told Sebastian.
"I'm expecting to hear that song at your next gig," Sebastian said. "You want to come with me? You could try out, too. You'd look great in the blazer."
Devon reluctantly shook his head. "I can't sing, remember?"
Sebastian stared down at him, studying the other boy's wistful smile. "You know, you don't have to do this," he told Devon. "I know why you started this way, but you don't have to finish high school with no one knowing your name."
"Blaine is my real name," Devon pointed out.
"It's bigger than the name, Killer," Sebastian said.
Devon looked down at the ground, licked his lips, then looked back at Sebastian. "I can't, Bas. I - not until I finish high school. Mom would - Mom -"
"Don't strain yourself," Sebastian sighed. "I'll drop it. Go do your homework or whatever else you math geeks do after school. I have a club to go dazzle." Sebastian could feel Devon watching as he walked away.
There were good reasons for Devon to hide, Sebastian knew that. Or at least, there had been. Back before Devon was Devon, Popstar, he was Blaine, the adorable quiet kid who was beaten into a coma for being gay. Once Devon had been signed, he had refused to go back into the closet. He wanted other gay kids to have a role model and a success story. Pretty much everyone had been against the idea, from the record company to his agent to his mother. The company had been afraid a gay star would fail. His agent had wanted an easier sell. And his mother had been terrified he would get hurt again.
The compromise was Devon. Devon would sell the album. Blaine would attend a safe private boarding school. Devon would sing in bars and clubs and stadiums, progressively bigger venues he kept selling out. Blaine wrote English papers and finished his math homework on time. It had worked for years.
But Devon no longer needed to hide. He was of age, his fan base was huge and, quite frankly, terrifying, and he was safe at Dalton. His mother was not even in the picture anymore. Neither Blaine nor Devon was an expert in disguise. That year alone, Devon's manager had paid off at least two photographers to keep the secret, and Sebastian had no idea why it even needed to be kept.
There was a chance it was because Kurt Hummel was a judgmental asshole with a debilitating inability to forgive, in addition to his mind-boggling inability to see that his best friend and popstar crush were the same person.
Sebastian threw open the doors to the Warblers' practice room, and belted out,
"You're on the phone with your boyfriend; He's upset,
He's going off about something that you said
'Cause he doesn't get your humor like I do.
I'm in my room - it's a typical Tuesday night.
I'm writing lyrics to a song he wouldn't like
He'll never know your story like I do.
You call him Prince Charming
He's chasing after glory
I'd ask you for a dance
But that's not in your story
I dream about the day when you wake up and find
That your fairy tale ending was here the whole time."
There was a moment of stunned silence when the last 'you belong with me' died away, followed by a furious uproar. It was a positive uproar, Sebastian noted.
"Was that new?" Jeff asked. "That must be new. I've never heard that song!"
"Can we do that for Regionals?" Thad wondered.
"Very nice, Sebastian," Nicholas said.
"Thank you," Sebastian said. "I don't know. It's probably going to be on my next album, but that's still in the planning stages."
"I think we have one of our Regionals soloists, at least," Thad said, looking meaningfully at Wes and David
"Order, order," Wes said. "We will discuss all this in due time. In the meantime, I'd like to introduce the group to our newest Warbler, Sebastian Smythe. Sebastian, if you'll have a seat next to Jeff. Now, has everyone had a chance to go over the new music I sent out?"
People made various noises of affirmation. Sebastian leaned back in his chair and and tried to let go of the performance high enough to focus.
End Part 07
Uploaded 11/06/2013
Next Week: Things go wrong.
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