A/N: Because a few have asked - this fic is COMPLETE and has 15 chapters, so only 5 left to go until the end! Enjoy!
To: Sebastian Leandro
From: Wes Montgomery
Subject: Any luck?
I haven't heard from you. Have you got anything for me? Anything at all? Look, in case you didn't quite get it: I NEED WORK. I am extremely low in fundage at the moment. Vivica's drained me dry...And now, more than ever, I have to get out of here:
She's starting to talk about commitment, Sebastian. Marriage. Kids. She's turned completely bovine on me. I just don't get it. I come out to Key West with one of the top supermodels in the country, and somehow, I end up broke, and explaining my position on overpopulation. You've got to find something for me, dude. I'm counting on you.
Wes
To: Wes Montgomery
From: Sebastian Leandro
Subject: Look, man
You up and leave during our busiest season. And I'm not saying I blame you. I mean, it's Vivica. I'd have done the same thing. But you can't disappear for three months in this business and expect to be able simply to pick up where you left off. New talent moves in. There are some real money-hungry kids out there who are good. Real good.
And they don't charge as much as you do, pal. But that is not to say I'm not trying. I WILL find something for you. But you've got to give me some time. I'll get in touch as soon as I hear of anything, I swear.
Sebastian
To: Sebastian Leandro
From: Wes Montgomery
Subject: So you're saying
I've gone from one of the top photographers in the country to NOTHING? In a little more than ninety days? That's what you're asking me to believe? Thanks. Thanks for nothing.
To: Lenore Fleming
From: Wes Montgomery
Subject: SOS
LENORE!
IT'S ME AGAIN. VIVICA. THANKS FOR THE WALLET. I GOT IT. I DECIDED NOT TO LEAVE RIGHT AWAY. I WANTED TO GIVE HIM ANOTHER CHANCE, YOU KNOW. I THOUGHT MAYBE HE WOULD APOLOGIZE. BECAUSE I KNOW HE IS REALLY VERY DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH ME. BUT HE TOTALLY DIDN'T! APOLOGIZE, I MEAN. IN FACT, IF ANYTHING, NOW HE HAS GOTTEN MEANER. YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HE SAID LAST NIGHT.
HE SAID HE DOES NOT WANT TO MARRY ME, AND THAT HE NEVER DID. HE SAYS HE DOES NOT WANT TO HAVE BABIES WITH ME, OR EVEN SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH ME!
LENORE, WHAT SHOULD I DO? I JUST KEEP CRYING AND CRYING.I CAN'T BELIEVE HE WOULD DO THIS TO ME. I CAN'T BELIEVE HE WOULD SPEND THREE MONTHS WITH ME IN KEY WEST, AND THEN TURN AROUND AND SAY HE DOESN'T WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH ME. I HAVE NEVER FELT SO USED.
LENORE, YOU'VE GOT TO HELP ME. I KNOW YOU HAVE HAD LOTS OF EXPERIENCE WITH MEN. AFTER ALL, YOU ARE SO OLD-ALMOST 30. YOU MUST KNOW OF SOME WAY I CAN GET HIM TO LOVE ME. PLEASE HELP.
VIV
To: Mercedes Jones
From: Kurt Hummel
Subject: I don't know about you
but I had a fabulous time last night. Didn't you have fun? I mean, everything was so perfect: the squid ink pasta was delicious, and our boys seemed to get along so well- didn't you think they got along? Sam and Blaine, I mean. Not that I know anything about college basketball, but that discussion they had about it seemed pretty lively.
Don't you see how wrong you were about him now? About Blaine, I mean. I haven't exactly brought up the iced nipple thing with him, but don't you think that's just what readers of the SI swimsuit edition expect? I mean, it seems like that's just part of his job. Plus it doesn't seem like the nipples of busty women even appeal to him anyway.
All I'm saying is, we should definitely do it again, and soon. But not this weekend, because this is the weekend we're spending at that ski cabin Blaine's friend is loaning him.
And, I don't want to jinx anything, but last night I offered to feed Tweedle Dum and Mr. Peepers while Blaine was walking Paco, and I just happened to spot a Tiffany's bag peeking out from Blaine's overnight bag. You know, the one he's taking for the weekend.
That's right. A Tiffany's bag. I know. I know. I am not getting excited. It could be anything. It could be the bag he carries his socks in when he travels. Who knows?
But what if it's...you know. It could be. It really could be. That's all I'm going to say.
Kurt
To: Kurt Hummel
From: Mercedes Jones
Subject: Are you serious?
You seriously think he's going to propose? Kurt, the two of you have only been going out for a couple of months. Less, even. I don't want to be a wet blanket, but I really don't think you should get your hopes up. I bet anything if you'd looked in that bag you'd have seen socks. Some men are weird that way.
Mercedes
To: Mercedes Jones
From: Kurt Hummel
Subject: I should have looked, shouldn't I?
I just couldn't. It just seemed so...wrong. To look, I mean. But Mercedes, lots of people have gotten engaged after having gone out way less time than Blaine and I have been together. Seriously, I think my parents knew each other for about ten minutes before they decided to get married. Not that I think that's what's in the bag.
A ring, I mean. I totally don't. I'm sure it's just socks.
But what if it isn't? That's all I'm saying. A guy can dream, can't he?
KH
To: Kurt Hummel
From: Mercedes Jones
Subject: So I take it that if it is a ring,
you intend to say yes? Is that it? Not that I think you shouldn't. Only...
Only there's nothing wrong with waiting. Really. I mean, you should at least, out of common decency, wait until his aunt is out of her coma, or dead. Whichever comes first.
Don't you think?
Mercedes
To: Mercedes Jones
From: Kurt Hummel
Subject: I guess
you're right. About waiting to see what happens with Mrs. Montgomery. That would be pretty cold, to go around announcing our engagement, when she's still in a coma. God, I don't even know what I'm talking about. There's no ring in that bag. I'm sure it's socks. It has to be socks. Right?
To: Sam Evans
From: Mercedes Jones
Subject: Kurt
Well, it's all over. He's proposing. This weekend, it looks like, in the romantic ski cabin he's borrowing for the occasion. I'm not saying I disapprove. I mean, I like the guy. I really do. It's just that...I don't know. I can't shake this bad feeling I have about all this.
What's wrong with me?
Mercedes
To: Mercedes Jones
From: Sam Evans
Subject: What's wrong with you
Nothing's wrong with you. You just want your friend to be happy. And I don't blame you. I want Kurt to be happy, too. He deserves to be happy, and not just because Freddie Prinze is married to Sarah Michelle Gellar, or whatever else it is he writes about.
But in order for people to be happy, sometimes they have to take risks. It's true those risks can put them in danger of being hurt. I think that's what's freaking you out about Kurt. He just met this guy. He's got an iffy rep in the hood. Hooking up with him is a major risk. But I think to him, it's worth it. So you just have to stand back and let him make her own decisions and stop being such a freaking psycho about it. I mean, who do you think is good enough for him, anyway? Me? Well, I happen to be taken.
And you know what happened when we tried fixing Kurt up with my brother Sal... Hey, if the two of them do work it out and decide to get hitched, we could have a double wedding. What do you think about that? Just kidding.
Sammy
To: Kurt Hummel
From: johnlives
Subject: Vermont
Okay, so have you got your long underwear? I hear it can get cold at night up there. I'm going to pick up the car at seven, so we can be on the road by eight. Think you can be up and around by then? I know it will be a challenge to you. Fortunately, I, unlike some people, will never hold your perpetual tardiness against you. I'm renting a full size vehicle in the hopes that Paco will fit into the backseat. What do you think the chances are that he won't insist on sticking his head out the window and drooling on anyone we pass? And do you think they ticket for that kind of thing? Flinging dog drool on innocent passers-by?
Blaine
To: johnlives
From: Kurt Hummel
Subject: Vermont
I can be ready by eight. What do you think I am, some kind of sloth? I think Paco will be fine in the backseat. It's Tweedle Dum and Mr. Peepers I'm worried about. I know Ralph said he'd feed them, but I highly doubt he'll stay to pet them or anything. I mean, he's totally afraid of getting animal hair on his doorman uniform.
Maybe we should offer to have it dry cleaned for him when we get back. You're kidding about the long underwear, right?
Kurt
To: Kurt Hummel
From: Dolly Vargas
Subject: Vermont
Darling, I hear you're going up north with him for the weekend. That is just so St Elmo's Fire. Are you going to wear CK One and a big turtleneck sweater?
Seriously, I just wanted to give you a few eensy weensy tips before you go, because you're such a little innocent about these kind of things.
Do NOT allow him to put your name down on the rental agreement. Then you will have no choice but to drive should he ask you to.
Do NOT offer to go out to get a log for the fire from the wood pile. I have found that spiders often live in wood piles. Let him do the wood gathering, for God's sake.
Do offer to cook breakfast, and make it a hearty one, preferably with sausages. For some reason, men seem to love to ingest foods soaked in saturated fats w hen they are in the woods. He will show his appreciation for you in all the right ways.
Do bring your own CDs. If you don't, you'll be listening to the horrible rock bands all weekend long-not to mention-I shudder to write it-Blood, Sweat, and Tears.
Do bring earplugs. Men who ordinarily don't snore are prone to do so in the woods, due to various allergens that don't exist in the city.
Do NOT let him shower first. Cabins have notoriously little hot water, and he will use it all up, leaving you none. Insist on being the first to bathe. Or shower together. That's always fun, too.
Do NOT forget to bring edible body oils or lubes with you. They simply do not sell such things in these backwater towns, so if you forget them, it's all over. I hope this helps, sweetie. And don't forget, have fun!
XXXOOO
Dolly
To: Mercedes Jones; Tim Grabowski
From: Kurt Hummel .
Subject: All right
Who told Dolly I was going away with Blaine? You guys have GOT to stop. I cannot stand this anymore. STOP TELLING DOLLY THINGS ABOUT BLAINE AND ME. It is seriously not funny. I do not need her knowing my business. At least, not the stuff I haven't told her myself.
Kurt
To: Cooper Anderson
From: Blaine Anderson
Subject: Well, this is it
We're leaving in the morning. And I'm going to do it. I swear I'm going to do it. I called Chuck up at the lodge and had him go over to the cabin and make sure the hot tub was good and ready, stick a few bottles of wine in the fridge, and start defrosting some of those venison steaks. I think I'm ready. Wish me luck.
Blaine
To: Blaine Anderson
From: Cooper Anderson
Subject: You really are
a moron, you know that, don't you? How you could have let yourself get into this situation in the first place-or let it go on for so long-I do not know.
But I will wish you luck, because, buddy, you are going to need it.
Cooper
To: Lenore Fleming
From: Wes Montgomery
Subject: SOS
LENORE!
IT'S OVER. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE IT. I CAN BEARLY TYPE ON ACCOUNT OF CRYING SO HARD. TODAY I CAME HOME FROM THE POOL, AND WHAT DO YOU THINK I FOUND? HE WAS WITH ANOTHER WOMAN, LENORE! IN OUR BED. WITH THE MAID! THE MAID! SHE'S NOT EVEN THAT PRETTY! SHE USES LIQUID EYELINER, AND HAD ON LAST SEASON'S MANOLO BLAHNIK MULES. NOT EVEN REAL ONES, EITHER. CHEAP KNOCK-OFFS! AND SHE'S OLD! LIKE THIRTY OR SOMETHING!
WELL, THAT IS IT. IT IS SO OVER. YOU HAVE TO GET ME ON THE NEXT FLIGHT BACK TO NEW YORK. I KNOW. I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO SAY: I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING TO GET BACK AT HIM OR I WILL NEVER HAVE CLOSURE. BUT WHAT CAN I DO? I CAN'T SEND HIM A BUNCH OF DEAD ROSES, LIKE GUYS ARE ALWAYS SENDING TO ME WHEN I DUMP THEM. THAT'S, YOU KNOW, A GUY THING.
I THOUGHT ABOUT SENDING HIM A METAL JOCK STRAP, LIKE NAOMI SENT BOBBY. BUT THEY DON'T EVEN SELL METAL JOCK STRAPS HERE. I HAVE TO GET BACK AT HIM SOMEHOW, I KNOW. I HAVE TO HIT HIM WHERE IT HURTS THE MOST. OH. WAIT A MINUTE. I HAVE AN IDEA.
LENORE, MAKE ME A RESERVATION ON THE NEXT FIRST CLASS SEAT OUT OF HERE-BUT GIVE ME LIKE HALF AN HOUR. THEIR'S ONE THING I HAVE TO DO BEFORE I GO. WISH ME LUCK.
VIV
To: Kurt Hummel
From: Wes Montgomery
Subject: HELLO
YOU DON'T KNOW ME, BUT MY NAME IS VIVICA, AND I THINK YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THAT GUY WHO HAS BEEN WALKING WES'S AUNT'S DOG ISN'T WES AT ALL, BUT HIS FREIND BLAINE, WHO OWED WES A FAVOR ON ACCOUNT OF WES HELPING BLAINE OUT OF A JAM BACK IN VEGAS WHEN HE ALMOST MARRIED A REDHEADED DANCER NAMED HANS.
BLAINE IS JUST PRETENDING TO BE WES ON ACCOUNT OF WES NOT BEING ABLE TO COME BACK TO NEW YORK TO WALK HIS AUNT'S DOG BECAUSE HE IS HEAR IN KEY WEST WITH ME. BUT HE DIDN'T WANT HIS AUNT TO THINK HE DIDN'T CARE, SO HE HAD BLAINE DO IT FOR HIM.
AND I THINK IF WES'S AUNT EVER WAKES UP, YOU SHOULD TELL HER WHAT WES DID. SHE SHOULD DEFINATELY WRITE HIM OUT OF HER WILL BECAUSE HE DOESN'T DESERVE ANY OF HER MONEY. ALSO, YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT WES MONTGOMERY IS A HORRIBLE PERSON AND ANYONE WHO IS FREINDS WITH HIM PROBABLY IS, TOO. ALL MEN ARE PIGS AND I HOPE THEY DIE AND MONKEYS TAKE OVER LIKE ON PLANET OF THE APES BECAUSE THEN THINGS WOULD BE WAY BETTER. THAT'S ALL.
VIVICA
To: Kurt Hummel; Mercedes Jones; Dolly Vargas
From: Will Schuester
Subject: Would anyone care to tell me
what all that screaming was about a little while ago? And why aren't any of you at your desks? I swear to God, if you're all in the Ladies Room again, I am going in there and dragging you out. Go ahead and call the OEO and press a sexual harassment suit against me. I don't care. YOU CAN'T ALL HAVE TO GO AT THE SAME TIME. This isn't cheerleader camp. What do you think I am, stupid? Can't any of you comprehend the fact that there is a time for gabbing and a time for working, and that when there's a paper to put to bed, that means it's time for WORKING? GET BACK TO YOUR DESKS AND STAY THERE!
Will
To: Kurt Hummel
From: Mercedes Jones
Subject: Kurt, just call
him. Just call and ask him. I'm sure it's just some kind of sick joke or something. You can straighten it all out with one phone call. Just call him.
There's probably a very rational explanation for all of this.
Mercedes
To: Mercedes Jones
From: Kurt Hummel
Subject: No
You don't understand. I just went through the emails I've gotten over the past few months, because I thought the return address to this one looked familiar, but I knew it wasn't Blaine's, because his is johnlives. And look. Look what I found.
His first email ever to me. Check out the return address - it's not the one he's using now!
To: Kurt Hummel
From: Wes Montgomery
Subject: My Aunt
Dear Mr. Hummel,
I am shocked. Deeply shocked and appalled to hear what has happened to my aunt Helen. She is, as I'm sure you know, my only living relative. I cannot thank you enough for the efforts you've gone to in order to contact me and let me know about this tragedy.
Although I am currently on assignment in Africa-perhaps you've heard of the drought here in Ethiopia? I am doing a photo shoot for the Save the Children Fund-I will begin making preparations to return to New York at once. If my aunt should wake before I get there, please assure her that I am on my way.
And thank you again, Mr. Hummel. Everything they say about cold and unfeeling New Yorkers is obviously untrue in your case. God bless you.
Sincerely,
Wesley Montgomery
It's the same return address as that one I just got from this Vivica. And read it. It doesn't even SOUND like Blaine. Blaine didn't write this. Mercedes, I think this Vivica person might be telling the truth! Oh my God, what do I do? I can't just call him? What am I going to say?
Kurt
To: Mercedes Jones
From: Kurt Hummel
Subject: What are you going to say?
I can't believe you are asking me this. You're going to say, Hey, buster, what the hell is going on here? If you think I'm going to Vermont with you after this, you've got another thing coming, let me tell you. Now what the hell is all this about?
God, Kurt, you are not a wuss, so why are you acting like this? CALL HIM!
Mercedes
To: Kurt Hummel
From: Dolly Vargas
Subject: Darling
I know how upset you must be, and I just want to assure you that I am behind you one hundred and fifty percent. Men can be such children, can't they?
And because I feel so deeply for you in your hour of need, I have done a little calling around, and finally managed to track down Wes Montgomery's agent. Sweetie, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but Sebastian says Wes has been in Key West the past few months with the supermodel Vivica! I of course said, But Sebastian, darling, that's impossible, Wes has been here walking his aunt's dog and courting my little friend Kurt, to which Sebastian, who is just a sweetheart, replied, Dolly, honey, this isn't the nineties anymore, put down the crack pipe. I'm getting calls from Wes three times a day demanding to know when I'm going to find him work since Vivica is draining him dry.
So there you go. Whoever this Blaine of yours is, it can't be Wes Montgomery.
Oh how I wish I'd been there that night you brought him to Fresche for our inspection. I could have told you straightaway he wasn't Wes. I blame myself.
Is the Xanax I slipped you in the Ladies working yet?
XXXOOO
Dolly
To: Blaine Anderson
From: Wes Montgomery
Subject: You are a dead man
What is wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you messing around with my aunt's next door neighbor? The reporter from the Journal? And doing it UNDER MY NAME? Are you mental? I told you to walk Aunt Helen's dog. That's all.
Just walk the stupid dog. So why am I getting phone calls from my agent saying that that Dolly Vargas broad, the one I know from the Journal, has been calling around asking a bunch of questions about me? Specifically, how can I be in New York, going out with her friend Kurt, when I'm supposed to be in Key West, doing Vivica? This is bad, dude. Really bad.
I am in a bad place here, and you are just making things worse. Vivica caught me messing around with the maid-which was so totally not my fault: the woman wouldn't keep her hands off me-and now she's gone. Which is admittedly something of a relief, so far as my finances are concerned. But there is no telling what she's going to do when she gets back to New York. Blow my cover, most likely. This is bad. Really bad. Why couldn't you have just done what I asked you, and nothing more? Now if my aunt wakes up, she's going to know I didn't fly back up there to take care of her stupid pets. This is uncool, dude. Way uncool.
Wes
To: Cooper Anderson
From: Blaine Anderson
Subject: Help
I think I am in big trouble.
To: Blaine Anderson
From: Cooper Anderson
Subject: What do you mean?
Help? Help what? How can you be in big trouble? I thought you'd left for Vermont. Why are you still here? Stacy says to write her, her brain is atrophying from too much daytime television.
To: Kurt Hummel
From: johnlives
Subject: I know
you're home, I can see that your bedroom light is on. So why won't you answer the door? Or your phone? Kurt, I know something is wrong, and I think I know what it is, but unless you talk to me, how can I make it right? Because I can, I can make it right, if you would just give me the chance. Please, please, please open the door.
Blaine