Author's Note: Thank you for all the lovely feedback. I must admit that Santana, Puck and Kurt are my favorite voices to write, I know, which is weird since I seem to only write Finn/Rachel fics. Santana because she has that sharp and biting wit that reminds me of Season 1 of Dawson's Creek, which whoever has followed my fanfic writing career knows is like my favorite season. Puck because you can write the most outrageous things for him and its still totally in character. And Kurt because I want to be him when I grow up, even though I'm several years older than him and a straight woman. Anyway, this chapter is super angsty (hence the title) and the second to last chapter (minus the epilogue). I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck around and hope you keep on enjoying!
Chapter Eight: Who's Crying Now? Everybody
The summer sun lifted high into the sky, the light spilling through the open window soaking his skin in its warm glow. Outside he could hear the faint song of birds chirping out in the parking lot.
He wanted them all shot.
Rolling over in his bed, he kept his pillow pressed firmly to his face. The throbbing headache was too much to bare and the fear of exposing his eyes to sunlight, coupled with his building desire to suffocate made death by asphyxiation the only appealing option.
With all the strength he could muster, he attempted to sit up. His stomach lurched as if the alcohol he had consumed the night before had ripped through all of his internal organs like acid.
Fuck.
There were definitely people who died from that kind of stuff. He remembered Miss Holiday putting on some bizarre puppet show in English Lit about emo writers and poets who stuck their heads in ovens or blew their brains out or went to crazy houses. One of them busted all of their organs (or maybe it was just the liver, he didn't pay that much attention) with alcohol. He remembered this because Miss Holiday put a squirt gun in a puppet that was filled with ketchup and sprayed it all over the class room.
Finn collapsed back against the mattress. His death was inevitable, he might as well take what was coming.
"You're up!"
Finn flinched.
His liver was taking an awfully long time to give out. He wondered what temperature the oven had to be set to to properly bake his brains. He'd never make it. The oven took way too long to preheat.
"Finn. What are you doing?"
That was a very good question, he thought as he continued to stare into the muffled white darkness of the pillow pressed against his face.
The memories from last night began to seep through his subconscious like flashes from a Polaroid. They ate steaks. Really big steaks, he remembered. Kurt even ate one but had paired his with a full bodied Pinot Noir because, if you're going to clog your arteries, you might as well do it with class. And then they went to the batting cages and Blaine got hit in the ear with a fast ball because he didn't know the difference between a lefty helmet and a righty. Then they went to the dollar store and bought a ton of those snappers and ran around the parking lot throwing handfuls of them at each other. Mike had gotten Artie so good that smoke began to come out of his acrylic sweater vest. And then they went to the Quick E Mart and got slushies and spiked them with Jack Daniels and Kurt threw his in Puck's face because he had always wanted to do it in high school. Puck was more mad about wasting all that JD, which made it even funnier when he began scooping clumps of ice off his shirt to suck out all the remnants of alcohol.
Finn let out a sigh of relief. Why had he thought something so awful had happened. It was just a harmless night of harmless guys doing harmless guy stuff.
He frowned. Then why was he so hungover?
No.
There was a smokey room and the smell of wine and cheap perfume.
Fuck.
He sang Journey with Rachel. He sang Journey with Rachel and then they made out in the parking lot. He was royally screwed.
Allison plucked the pillow from his grasp and set herself on the edge of the bed beside him.
"So," she began over his painful groans of discontent. "Did you have fun last night?"
"No?" He replied carefully.
"Blaine and Kurt had too carry you last night," she ruffled a hand through his hair and giggled brightly. He cringed. Why was everything so loud all of a sudden? "Well it was more like dragging because you're so tall."
"Really?" He forced a grin to mirror her expression and tried to nod as enthusiastically as he could muster (which was not very enthusiastic at all).
"It was hilarious. I wish I took out my camera for it!"
His head throbbed as Allison laughed... cackled almost. Everything went into slow motion. Her head bucking back with every throb of laughter, her voice echoing louder and louder and louder.
His head was definitely going to explode.
"Too bad," he mumbled, blinking a few times to keep his head balanced.
"Finn, are you all right?"
"I'm going to be sick," he muttered and dropped his head back against the mattress.
Allison jumped to her feet and took a few strides back as if he were carrying the bubonic plague. "Well if you're going to puke, please don't do it on the bed. I just washed the sheets."
Finn chuckled. Dudes didn't puke the morning after. Women on the other hand held it in like a ticking time bomb set to go off at the exact moment you got the best table at the best diner in town with the best hangover cure in the history of alcohol.
"I'm fine," he said, struggling to pull himself up until he was sitting upright. Finn let out a heavy breath, slumping his shoulders while he rubbed absently at his temples. "Look. Can we talk?"
"What about?" She asked, her voice low and hesitant.
"It's just," he sighed and lifted his chin. Gesturing towards the bed he patted the mattress beside him. "Can you just... Can you sit for a minute?"
Taking a few petite steps she lowered herself onto the bed and folded her hands in her lap.
Finn licked his lips as he carefully crafted the words that would explain to her exactly how he was a complete and utter dick to her. Scanning the room he investigated the shelves and dressers to be sure there weren't any suitable murder weapons she would bludgeon him with upon hearing the news. Or any sharp edges she could castrate him with, because he really didn't want to call Puck at this hour to beg him to go on the most emasculating treasure hunt in history.
"What's the matter?" Allison asked, her voice growing impatient.
"I, um," he chuckled nervously. "Something happened last night and you should know about it."
He took this psychology class in college once. He thought they'd do cool things like put rats in mazes and electrocute people and stuff, but instead all they did was memorize vocabulary words. One thing he remembered was how you could tell a person was lying if they looked to the left because that's where you look when you're making stuff up. Finn caught himself glancing up towards the left side of the room and shook his head.
"We ran into some of the girls from glee club at the bar last night," he admitted. "Rachel was there."
"Oh," Allison said coldly, without any sort of reaction flashing across her face.
"We were both really drunk, and I don't know... for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to sing a duet and, uh..." he swallowed thickly and carefully trained his gaze on her. "I sort of kissed her."
He waited for something to happen. For her to slap him, for her to scream, for her to grow a second head to better rip him apart with insults. But instead she stared blankly at her hands.
"Why are you telling me this?" She asked drawing out each word as if they were foreign to her.
"I've been burned by stuff like this in the past and I know how much it can suck when you hear it from the wrong person."
She nodded slowly, "Did somebody catch you or something?"
"No," he brushed a frustrated hand through his hair. Realizing he had no right to be upset with her when he was the douche in this argument, he closed his eyes tightly to calm his nerves. "No. I just wanted you to hear it from me, okay?"
"Were you afraid Rachel was going to tell me?"
Finn hadn't thought of that. But given Rachel's history, she wasn't the best at keeping secrets.
"No," he shook away the thoughts. "I don't want to keep these secrets from you. I want to be honest with you."
"Okay," she said simply, rising off of the bed.
"Wait. That's it?" Finn demanded, blinking a few times as she moved towards the door. "Okay?"
"What do you want me to say, Finn?" She snapped. He let out a sigh of relief, that was what he was expecting. "Do you still have feelings for her? Are you planning on running away together? What, Finn? What?"
"I do," he admitted.
She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as if angling her head an inch closer would give her some sort of clarity. "You do, what?"
Finn opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Dropping his gaze to his hands he lowered his voice. "I do have feelings for her. I'll probably always have feelings for her and you deserve to know that." He stood to his feet (Nothing like a sobering conversation to sober up) and stepped towards her. "But I'm with you. I'm committed to you."
Then something weird happened. Something he hadn't expected.
She launched herself into his arms and he nearly toppled over when she crashed into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. "That's all I needed to hear," she whispered against his neck.
"You mean you aren't mad?" He blinked incredulously for a few moments. Surely she was still going to murder him in his sleep.
"Of course I am," she said brightly. "But you could have hidden this from me forever and I never would have known, but you didn't and my therapist says that refusal to acknowledge residual feelings from past relationships is actually more debilitating on a marriage than pretending the issue doesn't exist."
"Wait, you talk to your therapist about me..."
"Don't you see Finn? We've broken the curse of the Ghost of Girlfriend's Past!"
"What?" He was having a hard time keeping up. "How?"
"When you kissed her. Your first instinct was to tell me!"
Finn chuckled uneasily, but only squeezed her tighter. When he kissed her his first instinct was to find the backseat of some abandoned vehicle, or to at least investigate the cleanliness of the dumpster lid to see if it was a suitable surface for some ungodly activities. Perhaps that level of honesty was too much, given the situation.
"It's like a psychological study or something," Allison continued on.
"Freud?" Finn questioned, breaking out of her embrace and holding her at arm's length.
"No," she beamed. "McConaughey." She threw her arms around him again and hugged him tightly. "I'm so glad you told me," she repeated. "Because now I have the courage to let you know I've been exchanging e-mails with an old high school boyfriend."
Finn's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"
"I mean it was only my chemistry teacher and we only made out a few times before he got fired, and you were being so distant ever since your high school girlfriend came back, that I wanted to do something to make you jealous but I was starting to feel so guilty about it. What you did was so much worse! I feel so relieved!" She cupped Finn's cheeks between her hands and kissed him firmly on the lips. "Now go take a shower, you smell like death. Kurt will be here any minute to review last minute wedding plans."
Finn stumbled back a few steps as he watched Allison bounce out of the room. He thought that telling her the truth would fix everything, but he wasn't feeling any better.
…
Finn straightened his tie in the mirror before checking that the buttons on his cuffs were done.
Burt appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame. "Ya ready kiddo?" He asked, digging his hands into his pockets.
Finn grinned at him in the mirror and went to adjust his tie again. "It's only the rehearsal."
The entire week had felt like a rehearsal. Allison put them in intensive 24/7 couples counseling, except she was the counselor and the moderator and the woman scorned. He wasn't sure if it was productive measures to strengthen their relationship or her passive aggressive way of punishing him for kissing Rachel, but it sure was a great opportunity for her to air every single one of her grievances with him (which generally tended towards his grooming habits, or lack there of).
It had given him the opportunity to express some of his fears though, which was good he guessed. Although she shot down his idea of going on a cross country road trip for their honeymoon instead of Jamaica because she bought 14 bikinis for every day of the trip, and she told him to sign up for classes at the rec center instead of finding a new job because their financial stability was more important. She had a point he supposed. What was the point of a midlife crisis if he had all the fulfillment he was looking for at 22? Besides, with the tire store discount he'd be able to afford a really awesome sports car when he hit that wall.
He couldn't shake the feeling though that they were pretending everything was okay. Like even with all the intimate talks it didn't change what was lying under the surface. And while Allison chose to focus on Rachel as the problem because that was something tangible that she could compare herself to, Finn knew that the problem was Lima... or the metaphor of everything it stood for in his life.
We can't just move. We've got eighth months on our lease and you can't just get a job anywhere. You're not a mechanic because you're good at it. You're a mechanic because your dad let's you be.
Can't this just wait until after the wedding?
Just a few more years. Until we get settled. We'll look into other options then.
She was right. Maybe he was being unrealistic.
Finn rinsed his hands in the sink and shook off the excess droplets before using the remaining dampness to style his hair. "Is mom already in the car?" He asked, glancing at Burt through his reflection in the mirror.
"Yep," he chuckled.
"Is she freaking out?"
"Well your brother was going to give her a Valium to calm her nerves," Burt began with an amused shrug. "But apparently those are harder to come across than they were in the 70's, so he made her a Shirley Temple instead."
He narrowed his eyes curiously. "How's that supposed to help?"
"He implied that it was a much stronger drink," Burt said, lowering his voice and shielding his mouth in a playful whisper.
Finn grinned and nodded in understanding. Catching his eye again in the mirror, he adjusted his tie for a third time.
"You sure you're ready for this?" Burt asked, dropping his brows with concern. "Because if you're getting cold feet, I have a few well rehearsed concession speeches I had prepared in case my last two brides came to their senses and went all runaway on me."
"Well you know what they say," his smile faded for a moment but he quickly lifted his lips in a lopsided grin. "If your feet get cold, put on warmer socks."
Burt frowned and clasped a hand on his shoulder. "You know they don't say that, right?"
Finn bowed his head in a sheepish nod and lifted a finger to scratch his temple. "If they don't, then why am I wearing three pairs of socks?"
Burt pulled him into a hug and patted his back a few times for emphasis. "You know I'm proud of you. No matter what, right?"
"Thanks, Dad," Finn said quickly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed in a totally not masculine sort of way. Running a finger under his eye, he verified that there weren't in fact tears forming there, because there were only two scenarios where it was okay for dudes to cry: funerals and the Grand Canyon (which was where his funeral would probably take place after Allison chucked him in there should he have gone runaway groom on her).
Finn climbed into the backseat of the car next to Kurt just like they were 16 again going on one of their family dinners. Turning his attention out the window he watched the streets and store fronts flash by. School wouldn't be starting for another week, but the preseason for McKinley athletics started the first week of August and the football team was still out on the field practicing, even though it was nearly dusk out.
I am afraid of turning my back on something that actually made me happy for the first time in my sorry life.
He had always tried to believe in ghosts. He hoped that his Dad would haunt him and his mom or something so that he could get to know him and they could be a family, kind of like in Ghost Dad, but he always knew that it was never real. He even tried to create an imaginary friend once too because Puck had one and he seemed to have a really awesome time with him. Years later of course, he found out that Puck invented his imaginary friend the same day he learned what masturbation was because he'd rather jerk off instead of waste time playing with Finn outside.
The point was, Finn suddenly had this eery feeling that he was being haunted. The only problem was that he was being haunted by himself and it wasn't even Christmas time, when those sort of wonderful life caroling epiphanies were supposed to occur. And even worse, every version of his ghost (past, present and future) were all the same. A loser.
Finn barely recognized the feel of the car come to a halt as it pulled into a space in front of the church. Vacantly, he made his way through the church, offering hugs and kisses to friends and family that he only vaguely recognized, most of them belonging to Allison. He was having one of those out of body experiences, he could tell. Where he could see all these things taking place around him but he was powerless to move and all the words were just a blur that he couldn't understand. He was starting to wonder if Kurt "spiked" his Shirley Temple too.
At some point he felt Kurt tug on his hand and direct him up the aisle towards the alter.
"Are you okay?" Kurt snapped a finger in front of his face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I have," he confirmed.
Kurt only rolled his eyes with amusement and stepped off to the side with the rest of the groomsmen to bicker with Puck over who got to stand first.
"Can we get everyone to their places?" The pastor announced and everyone seemed to all funnel in different directions until Finn was standing alone in the center of the church.
"Are we rehearsing with music, or is this a dry run through?" The pastor asked Finn.
"Oh, um..." Finn glanced at him blankly over his shoulder and opened his mouth to speak before the words were stolen from him.
"I'm here if you need me."
His head snapped to look down the aisle where Rachel stood timidly with her hands folded in front of her flowing blue dress. Finn felt his breath catch in his throat as she took a few steps up the aisle, her hair bouncing in loose curls over her shoulders. Somewhere at some point in time he could hear the swells of Gershwin's "Someone to Watch Over Me" playing faintly in the distance.
I like how you dream big. I don't know how to do that.
For a moment it felt as if the ground disappeared from beneath his feet. Like when a magician would pull a table cloth off of a perfectly set table. Finally regaining his footing, he moved to meet her half way, but paused when he saw his brother hurry after her.
"Over here," Kurt intercepted her and directed her towards where Brad was sitting behind the piano.
Rachel handed him her sheet music and gave a quick nod towards Kurt who joined the rest of the wedding party to start the ceremony.
Finn immediately recognized the song within a few key strokes. He had heard it a million times when she was rehearsing for her theater company and he had even seen her perform it on Broadway once when he had gone to visit her in New York.
Strange, dear, but true, dear,
When I'm close to you, dear,
The stars fill the sky,
So in love with you am I.
He hated that song more than anything. Every time he heard it, all he could hear was her saying goodbye.
Even without you
My arms fold about you.
You know, darling why,
So in love with you am I.
The wedding party began to file down the aisle and Finn tried his best to focus on the procession but couldn't stop his eyes from darting to her direction.
He could feel the sensation of her arms wrapped around his bare chest while she murmured the lyrics in his ear.
In love with the night mysterious
The night when you first were there.
In love with my joy delirious
When I knew that you might care.
Kurt swooped past Finn with an amused grin, breaking him from his hypnosis. "She has a flare for the dramatics, don't you think?"
Finally Allison appeared in the doorway. Her hair pulled back into a neat bun and her body wrapped tightly in a sleek floral print dress as she strut down the aisle on her father's arm. She was breathtaking, there was no denying it and as she stepped towards him he found himself completely frozen, unable to move.
So taunt me and hurt me,
Deceive me, desert me,
I'm yours 'til I die,
So in love,
So in love,
So in love with you, my love, am I.
Finn shut his eyes tightly. For a moment it felt like he was returning to Earth. That when he opened his eyes there would be some sort of clarity. That he would know all the answers. Instead it felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff peering over the edge wondering if anyone or anything would catch him when he fell.
…
Rachel Berry hadn't always been the best at taking hints. She was intensely focused and often wore blinders that filtered out what others would see as obvious deterrents. Sometimes this passion and drive worked out in her favor. She'd win the big singing competition, or the boy of her dreams would tell her he loved her, or she'd star on a Broadway stage. But other times she sent freshmen to crack houses, or made out with her boyfriend's best friend, or she found herself singing at her ex-boyfriend's wedding.
She had never actually envisioned getting to that moment. She never really envisioned an ending to their story at all. It was like getting lost in a maze but being too stubborn to turn around, tangled in some inevitable disaster that would never end well. She was too proud to admit that she was wrong. Too heartbroken to admit that she had lost him. Too devastated to return home in failure. This was definitely one of her more spectacular disasters.
Rachel made her way around the perimeter of tables lining the rehearsal dinner. It was at Allison's parent's property, a sea of tables decorated with white Christmas lights that reflected beautifully off the edge of the lake. It was like a fairy tale. A horribly twisted and life destroying fairy tale.
"So you actually watched her walk down the aisle and sang for them?" Mercedes asked incredulously, sporting her best girl, please look.
Rachel could only nod absently while her eyes stayed trained on the groom-to-be sitting at the head table. She could feel that feeling in the pit of her stomach. The one that welled up when it sensed something horrible was about to happen, like when she rented American Psycho instead of An American in Paris. It was over, she realized. She had lost.
Eyes burning with the sting of tears, Rachel stood from her chair to find a dark parking lot to sob in, but was interrupted by the sound of a clinking glass. Finn stood at the head table holding a glass up, prepared to give his toast, leaving Rachel frozen in place.
"Hi," Finn said nervously into a microphone. "Yeah. Thank you," he continued sheepishly. "I'm not the best at these speech things as most of you can probably attest. I guess first off, I'd like to thank everyone for coming out tonight to eat really expensive shrimp," the crowd chuckled faintly. "Seriously, if you saw the price per pound your mind would be blown. So thank you Kurt for that one," Finn said leaning towards his brother and tipping his glass towards him as if to say Cheers!
"Right. So. Most of you probably know that my dad died when I was really young, so growing up it was just me and my mom and she did a really awesome job raising me," he turned to acknowledge his mother and smiled adoringly. "You know, the best.
"But it was tough doing it on her own because of work and life and stuff and sometimes I lost my way and sometimes I really didn't like myself," Finn said, a frown creasing his lips for the briefest of moments before lifting into a wistful grin. "But then I joined glee club and I learned that it was okay to be different and to accept the parts of myself that I thought were the lamest things in the world. Mr. Schue, Kurt," he turned to address both before turning his gaze on her, "Rachel." Rachel stood frozen like a deer in headlights, her heart pounding in her ears as he raised his glass towards her. "You guys saved me. You made me strive to be a better person and although I usually messed that up along the way you never gave up on me.
"You became my family when I lost everything, Kurt of course against his will, and although I think you guys got the shorter end of the deal, I will always strive to stand right by you." His eyes locked with Rachel's again and he swallowed thickly. "Even if it means letting you go.
"Now. You're all probably wondering, why has this guy babbled on for so long without once mentioning his stunning fiancee and I don't blame you," he said, gesturing towards Allison. "They call me a dolt for a reason, whatever that means. The point is, is that these people in my life have shaped me into the man I am today. The man that Allison chose. And quite honestly I never pictured myself here, but through Allison I've learned to let go of ghosts and to be grateful for all that life has given me. And now we're starting our own family. So I would like to raise a toast. To new beginnings and embracing all that we have been given."
The yard filled with the sound of tapping glasses and polite applause as Allison stood to give Finn a quick kiss and Finn reached out to give Kurt a hug. Everyone seemed so happy. Except for Rachel Berry, who felt like Eliza Doolittle at a horse race. Bowing out gracefully, she slipped quietly away from the dinner to escape the nightmare that she had ensconced herself in.
She had just reached her car when the patter of footsteps caught up with her. Who was she kidding though, his steps could never be associated with pattering. More like the off tempo pound of footsteps.
"Rachel, wait," Finn called out after her. "Where are you going?"
Rachel felt a tear swim down her cheek. "Home," she said tightly, not turning to face him. "I shouldn't be here." Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. "I really liked you speech, Finn."
"Thanks," he smiled that earnest grin that made her fall in love with him instantly in high school and still made butterflies dance in her stomach. "I meant it you know. Every word."
"I do," she said. And that was what hurt the most. Knowing what she had had, knowing that that was gone.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and took a step closer, tilting his head thoughtfully before he spoke. "You sounded amazing at the rehearsal."
"I can't sing at the wedding tomorrow," Rachel said, tears immediately springing to her eyes no matter how hard she tried to fight them.
"I understand," he nodded solemnly. "In fact I was surprised you came tonight. I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't shown. I know I wouldn't have."
"I spoke with Mercedes and Tina and they're going to take my place, although you may need to renegotiate wadges with Mercedes." Dropping her gaze to her hands she took a deep breath. "I'm leaving for New York, tonight. I can't be here anymore."
"I'm sorry Rachel," he said and bowed his head to watch his shoe scuff against the pavement of the driveway. "I never should have let you stay, but I wanted you to."
"No," Rachel interrupted quickly. "I was being selfish," she sounded out each word slowly as if she were recognizing it for the first time. Finn was wrong in his speech when he said that she had gotten the short end of the deal in their relationship, because she had learned so much from him too.
"All my life I've been seen as a loser in some form or another because my personality can be a bit harsh at times. The only times I've ever felt like a winner have been on stage and when you've loved me."
Tears sprang freely from her eyes now and she made no attempt to hide them.
"And I know it's an awful thing to say," she continued with a bitter laugh, "but when things didn't work out in New York, I really needed to know that I could win again. But we're not sixteen anymore Finn, and I can't compete with the gorgeous blonde to win it all and live happily ever after because at the end of the day you'll still be here and I can't be here anymore. And that's why this relationship will never work, no matter how many times I try to fool myself into thinking it will. But you've made your choice, so congratulations."
"Look, Rach..." Finn began.
"No," she interrupted again because she wasn't finished. "It's okay. I'm glad I came back. It made me realize that it wasn't just you that I was missing. It was being a part of a family, part of something special. I was so immersed in my career that I pushed everyone away. I was ignoring my Dads' calls Finn, my Dads! But being around you and Kurt and Puck, Mercedes and Tina..." she arched a surprised brow before she added, "and Santana, it made me realize that I need to open myself up to forming those sorts of relationships in New York."
"Oh..." he gave a quick nod and forced a smile. "That's great."
"I'm just sorry that I almost sabotaged your relationship in the process."
He shrugged, "Nothing that a few years of counseling won't fix... or maybe like a pre-nup."
"And I just wanted you to know that I love you, truly I do." She frowned sadly, "I'll love you my whole life. But I'm happy for you. Really."
Overcome with the heartbreaking clarity that this chapter of her life was officially over she turned again to leave but he caught her hand.
"It will always be you, Rach," he said squeezing her petite hand in his. His eyes sparkling with a glossy sheen that matched hers. "You know that. You just get me, better than I get myself sometimes, which is freaky in a way, and you touch me on this like really deep and emotional level," he said gesturing between them with his free hand as if the connection were tangible. "And I wish I could be the kind of man that you deserve because your life is going to be amazing and you never needed me to make it that way."
She nodded sadly and slipped her hand from his. Turning back to her car, she reached for the handle but paused.
"Finn, just promise me you'll never settle, okay?" She said after a moment of silence. "You're capable of so much more than you think you are." Glancing at him one last time, she flashed him a bright grin. "Never give up. Someone famous told me that once."
"Yeah?" He cocked his head with a playful grin. "Me too."
Song featured is Cole Porter's "So In Love" from the Musical Kiss Me, Kate.
