Dueling Duets- Chapter 11-Control
Author's Note:
I greatly appreciate all the favorites and reviews. You guys are great. I also want to thank the 5 that are taking the polls. If you haven't, remember it gives you a voice. I'm using your input to help me steer this where you guys would want it to go. Yes, I've been a little sneaky along the way, but that's just how I roll. I don't like being predictable.
Thanks to Kellyb321 for editing this. This chapter was a beast.
Let the drama proceed:
"Dad, it looks great!"
"I look like a tulip." Burt stated as he fiddled with the top button of the silk, crimson dress shirt that Kurt had handed to him to wear.
"Why can't I wear what I want? This isn't my new job? What will they care if your old man is wearing his favorite shirt."
"You don't want the stylists and my bosses to think I'm adopted, do you?" Kurt smiled playfully.
"Sometimes, I wonder myself," Burt replied with a cheerful smile. "There's nothing wrong with my own clothes." Burt argued.
"I paid for that shirt with your credit card, so technically, you own it. Dad, you dress like the guy on the Brawny paper towel package. We're in LA. You have plenty of nice shirts that we brought along."
"Son, I know saying you love to shop is the understatement of the century, but I can buy my own clothes. I've always been ok with you expressing yourself how you wanted, but shouldn't you let me do the same?"
"This is LA. Flannel and a baseball cap is fine in Ohio, but this is celebrity central. You could run into one of those guys from Deadliest Catch',"
"Yeah, and you know what he will be wearing. Flannel." Burt responded.
"Fine. But I'm going to tell them at the studio that you don't want my expertise," Kurt said with a playful eye roll. "I, on the other hand, have to look fabulous."
"I'm sure they'll think you look great. Is that shirt a Hummel original?"
"You know it!" Kurt beamed with pride. I couldn't wear some other designer's work. This is my chance to prove myself, again," he sighed.
"Son, you are going to knock them dead."
"Not really the best phrase to use shortly after a heart attack," Kurt chuckled. "Did you finish all your breakfast."
"As much as I could, Kurt."
"Look, that's the deal, Dad. I come back to LA and work on the show, and you need to follow your doctor's orders."
"I'm perfectly able to take care of myself, Burt grumbled. "Hummels are self-reliant men. I'm fine."
"You are not fine. You weren't taking care of yourself. I want you around for a long time, ok," Kurt sighed. "That means you need to get plenty of rest and eat right."
"There's no way I could not take it easy. You're doing everything for me. You picked out my clothes, packed all of the bags, made all of the arrangements for the shop and the move here, everything. Not to mention,you didn't even let me toast my own flax seed bread, which tasted like dirt, no matter how delicious the package claimed it would be. And don't even get me started on the turkey bacon."
"I warned you about cheating on your diet. At least you still got toast and bacon," Kurt warned.
"I think I would've rather had spinach and grapefruit. At least I'd know from the get go how disgusting it was going to taste. We should really sue that company for calling that bacon. I think I would've rather eaten the hospital food," Burt said, shaking his head.
"Dad, it's important that you have a healthy breakfast. We have a big day!" Kurt explained with a huge grin.
"I thought you said I was supposed to rest."
"We have to head to the set and meet with the rest of the stylists, and I have to sign the paperwork. You said that you wanted to go with me. Then, we have to meet with the realtor so that we can find a place within our budget. We can't stay in a hotel room for over two months. Isabelle said that she already told her what we would looking for, so they already have it narrowed down to a few places. It shouldn't be that bad."
"Look, most of that sounds like you have things under control. Why are you dragging me along?"
"Well, this is your place too, Dad. And I wanted to show you where I'd be working. Besides, we need to meet your nurse today. Isabelle has an agency sending a candidate that wants the job. We are going to be meeting her at a quaint restaurant for lunch."
"Do I at least get real food from the deal?"
"Isabelle said they are famous for their low fat menu."
"So that was basically a no," Burt sighed. " Look we had a deal here. I don't try to change you, and you don't try to change me. And that's definitely something that nurse better not even try doing."
Kurt laughed loudly. "If you want me to do this, then you have to have a nurse, at least until the doctor says you're strong enough to take back over your care. It's not like she'll be your babysitter. I'll be here when I'm not working. She's just going to be around when I can't. I just want you to get healthy again, Dad."
Burt huffed. "Fine, but if I have to get a nurse, I'm wearing my own clothes," Burt grinned, unbuttoning the rest of the buttons on the dress shirt and dropping it to the floor.
Kurt glared at Burt as he picked up the shirt and laid it on the ironing board. "Fine, but you have five minutes. I'm not going to be late on my first day. You only get one chance to make a first impression."
"Mr. Hummel, we are so pleased to add you to our stylist team, especially since that you already know the contestants. You came highly recommended. I can't believe that your letter of recommendation came from Isabelle Wright herself. You certainly sound more than qualified for this position, but there will be a lot of hours. Are you sure that you can commit to that?"
"Yes, Mr. Thompson. I had to resign due a medical situation related to my father, but it turns out it wasn't as dire as I had thought. We're hiring a nurse to help with his care when I can't be there. I can fulfill the requirements set forth on the contract, Mr. Thompson."
"Call me David. I'd like to introduce you to the other stylists. Come with me, please," he motioned.
Kurt followed the manager to the backstage area and listened as David told him some of the expectations he had for the position.
"The rules are pretty much the same as those of the contestants. You are not allowed to discuss any inside information about the show. Doing so will mean immediate dismissal from your position. No dating any of the contestants. It isn't against the rules to date other crew members as long as it doesn't conflict with your work. Any questions?" he asked, as they reached the wardrobe area.
"Yeah, so I'm responsible for the entire look of my assigned contestants. Will the contestants be the same people each time, or will it change depending on the pair I'm assigned to?
"Yes, you and the other stylists will be working with different pairs each time. The contestants will get some say in who their stylist will be. You will be responsible for their whole look; hair, makeup, outfit, the works. The mentors will introduce the contestants to the staff today, if you can stick around.
""I can hang out for a little while, as long as my dad doesn't run out of issues of Popular Mechanics, but I didn't think that I was officially working today. I have some errands to run, so I'm afraid I can't stay past 11:30."
"Yes, that's fine Kurt. I know that you have a lot to do, and you have already met the contestants. If you aren't here, it will be fine. I'll need you to write down which contestants you'll want to work with, but you can do that with the team. All the contestants will get a complete makeover, but we will have extra staff to assist with the process. After the show starts and the contestants learn how to do the basics themselves, it will be mainly the four of you. We will actually let each of you work with four contestants to start, and that number will be reduced as the show progresses.
"Did you say makeovers? Fabulous." Kurt clapped his hands together. "Makeovers are like crack to me." He had a brief fantasy of dying Sebastian hair green or replacing face cream with icy hot. He flashed a smile, but then he realized that he might be responsible for Blaine's makeover. Just the notion of getting to run his fingers through those luscious curls made his mouth go dry, not to mention the other things those thoughts did to his body. He stopped mid stroll and leaned against the wall, his eyes closed as the images of washing Blaine's hair danced in his mind.
"Kurt, are you ok? You zoned out on me there for a minute." David chuckled.
"Yeah, Just thinking about getting to do makeovers," Kurt fibbed. "My former roommate is a contestant, and I've I been dying to give her a makeover for years. She somehow manages to dress like a grandmother and a toddler at the same time."
"She sounds interesting. Well, let's get you introduced to the other three stylists. I think you'll really enjoy working with them." David opened the door to a massive room behind the stage. It looked like a combination a salon and wardrobe storage display. Kurt would have been in fashion heaven if it weren't for the three faces looking back at him.
"This is Kurt. He's our final stylist. He was a contestant, but now he'll work with you. They all auditioned for the show too." David explained. "This is Sugar Motta"
"They had the nerve to say my voice was deplorable. I wasn't quite sure what that meant. But they told me they loved my look, and told me I could apply for this. I really don't need to work. My dad's rich, but it might help me get on the show next time." David drew an imaginary knife across his throat. "It's nice to meet you Kurt."
Kurt shook her hand, and then turned to a girl that looked like Mercedes. Kurt thought they could've been sisters.
"Kurt, this is Wade, I mean, Unique Adams." David corrected himself.
"Honey, I can see why you got this job. You look fabulous. Anyone that can pull off a hippo brooch deserves to be here," Unique gushed.
"I like your ensemble as well," Kurt complimented her. Kurt shook her hand.
"Thanks honey, but you shouldn't expect anything less from a lady named Unique. Kurt did a double take when he put two and two together. Wade? Kurt knew, then, that he was going to feel right at home with the other stylists. Then, he turned to meet the last member of their team, and he was taken aback. This guy was fabulous, and obviously gay. He looked very familiar. Kurt started admiring his outfit, especially his black skinny jeans, which could've been painted on. He quickly brought his eyes up to make eye contact, and hoped that this attractive man didn't catch him staring as self doubt washed over him. Why would Blaine want to work with him, when someone as gorgeous as this guy would surely love to run his hands through Blaine's luscious locks.
"Hi, I'm Elliot, but my stage name is Starchild," said the gorgeous designer as he extended his hand outward towards Kurt, but at the last minute, he leaned in for a hug instead. "I remember you. We auditioned in New York together. We're going to make an outstanding team," he predicted as he released Kurt from his friendly embrace.
Wait, Starchild. Kurt remembered his audition. He had thought that Elliot's version of 'Marry the Night' was over the top, but the man definitely had an amazing voice. "I can't believe that they didn't take you for the show. You have an incredible range."
"Are you kidding me? Your voice is angelic, and your sense of style is fabulous, though I'd expect nothing less from Isabelle Wright's newest prodigy. I'm super jealous," he said with a wink.
Was he flirting? Kurt wondered. If he was, it wouldn't hurt to flirt back a little. Except, for Blaine. Kurt smiled back slightly.
"Well, I'll leave you to talk to the others, Kurt." David said. " You'll meet the contestants on Monday. Until then, I need you to look at these headshots and write your initials on the contestant you would like to do the makeover for. I need them by Two. Any other questions?"
Kurt shook his head no. "Ok, see you, Kurt." David said. "Let me know if you need anything," David said, leaving the stylist to get better acquainted.
"Alright, let's ogle some future superstars!" Sugar suggested. "I can't wait to get my hands on some of these cuties and make them absolute hotties.
"Alright contestants. I see you all survived booty camp, although I think that a few of you appeared as though you were about to hurl. It wouldn't hurt some of you to lose a few pounds. The entertainment world is a fickle business, and some of you look like you belong in a cage in the zoo instead of the big screen. Especially you, cupcake," Cassie said to Mercedes.
"Cupcake! Who you callin' Cupcake?" Mercedes hollered.
"If the wrapper fits. Well, for you and Muffin Top over there," she sneered, glaring at Tina."
"Pardon me, Ms. July, but I'm fine with my body, and I think I kept up with the steps perfectly fine. I'm a beautiful person. I'm in love with myself, and I would never change a thing. Tina replied.
"You go girl," Blaine grinned as he placed a encouraging pat on her shoulder as Cassie rolled her eyes.
"Ms. July, you need to apologize to these two lovely ladies. Not all female performers need to be a size two to be successful. Just look at Queen Latifa or Oprah Winfrey."
"Neither one of those women are contestants on this show either, whose primary audiences will be judgmental teenagers and young adults, not to mention critics. I'm just prepping them for the harsh reality of this harsh business. I'm not picking on them. I'm motivating them."
Madam Tibideaux glared at her.
"Fine," Cassie huffed. "I'm sorry. You have the right to look like a dessert if you prefer, but don't come crying to me when some review says that you should lay off the twinkies."
"Hey, I know Blaine loves Twinkies. I for one, have more specific taste." Sebastian remarked.
"Please spare us the details of the fluids you digest," Kitty snarked.
"Why? I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about," Sebastian fired back. "I'm certain that you tasted the creamy center of many a twinky yourself." Jake, Puck, and Santana cackled as Sebastian winked at her. "However, I bet my lack of a gag reflex makes me better at it than you honey."
"Unfortunately, for me, mine is still in tact, and I need to exercise my right to do that now," remarked Jesse, as he leaned over and wretched in the trash can.
"Enough of you divulging your disgusting habits," Sue yelled. "Nobody wants to know. The last thing I want to hear about is your sexcapades."
"That's because you'd never find anyone to perform any on you," Sebastian fired aloud. "Damn, I forget that you don't have a penis, although I doubt that was always the truth. Why, I'm sure that Ms. Sylvester has a prostate and an adam's apple. Why else would you insist on wearing that atrocious track suit?"
"Isn't that a chemical?" Brittany asked.
"No, it's a body part located in the ass." Kitty answered.
"In the ass?" Brittany asked. "I had a boyfriend that like to have sex that way. Do you think he injured mine?"
"Girls don't have a prostate," Puck added. "I looked it up." The rest of the contestants laughed, except Marley and Brittany. Santana whispered delicately in Brittany's ear what Sebastian and Puck had meant.
"Watch it, Chipmunk, or I will add training tactics to your workout regimen that I used with my Cheerios. "Sue warned. "I'd have them work until they puked, and then cut the ones that did. Their least favorite exercise was when they had to run over burning coals with their bare feet. How's that for you, Twinkle toes?" Sue threatened. "We're being too easy on these pansies. You think this has been hard. Try being waterboarded. Now that's hard!"
"Let's move on shall we," Carmen ordered. "Each pair needs to write down two songs that you are going to have prepared to perform so that we can get clearance and permission to do those songs. Your mentors, Mr. Schuester and Ms. Corcoran will listen to them both, and help you with the arrangements along with the band and the backup singers. Both songs need to be performance ready, just in case your first choice isn't approved by the publishers, due to music rights, and such. Some artists are more willing than others to let us use their music, although we will do what we can to work out an arrangement. More often than not, artists are willing to help us out because featuring their song on a show increases sales for their recording as well. However, songs that do not fit the theme will not be approved, and so you may need to be able to defend you choices. Remember, these selections should reflect songs that inspire the soul."
""I want to do Fat bottomed girls," Puck joked. That song inspires me to give a little loving to the plus sized population. The best sex I ever had was with a very well rounded lady. She's the one that got away, very slowly."
"You are such a pig," Quinn scoffed, crossing her arms and flipping her hair.
"Hey, I don't mind spreading the love, although we may cause damage, slamming two toned, rock hard bodies together," Puck smirked. "It sounds worth the risk."
"In your dreams, Schmuck, I mean Puck," Quinn snapped.
"Fabray, Puckerman, focus, shall we," Carmen ordered. "Here is a schedule for vocal lessons, dance rehearsal, and show rehearsals. In addition, you will be given a consultation with our stylists for make-overs."
"Makeovers? The Puckasaurus is already the hottest person in the room." he gloated.
"So hot that,apparently, he thought that he needed to shave the majority of his hair off so that he could imitate the style of Mr. T. I pity the fool that sports a hairstyle like that," Sebastian snorted.
"Are you questioning my sense of style?" Puck challenged, flexing his biceps.
"No, I'm stating, outright, that you have none," Sebastian replied. "However, as generous as I am, I'm willing to allow my stylists to use the time they've slotted for me to try to salvage a look for you out of what they have to work with. I hope they have an endless budget, a set of clippers, and a seamstress on hand," he smirked, rolling his eyes. "And while they're at it, you should suggest they find you a scent that doesn't make you smell like a hunter searching for a doe in heat."
"Can I help if I give off sex pheromones?" Puck asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Women can pick up my scent from a mile away."
"They can pick up the scent of a skunk too," Sebastian scoffed, "which I could assure you is the odor you give off. Do we have a butler on hand? We need to alert him to take out the trash."
"Allow me to," threatened Puck, as he lunged forward toward Sebastian. Finn, Ryder and Jake pulled him back. Marley looked relieved as Puck took a deep breath and shrugged it off. "You ain't worth it man," he said.
"Actually, Preppy, the eighties called. They want their clothes back," Santana sassed. "At least Puck takes a risk and shows his individuality, however misguided it may be. I do think it's mighty admirable of you to offer your stylists, seeing as you had to admit to yourself that your own style is a lost cause. Berry has more style than you!"
"What's that supposed to mean? I happen to think I look nice," Rachel defended.
"Normally, you dress like the fantasy of a perverted Japanese businessman with a very dark, specific fetish, but I actually dig your look today. Yea!" Santana smiled as she clapped in a mocking manner. "The Asian Goth Queen, not so much. You look like a zombie cheerleader that could use an eye deslanting."
"That's incredibly racist," Tina accused. "Sorry Santana, but I refuse to dress like somebody I'm not."
"Is that the reason you are wearing blue contacts today, Tina?," Santana countered. "Besides, could we all just get real for a second? Can we all just stop lying about how there aren't things that we wouldn't change about ourselves? I mean, I know I did."
"You had work done?" Tina asked.
"I kinda like the way I look." Finn stated, although everybody ignored his statement, waiting to see how Sanatana would respond to Tina's question.
"Sure did," Santana answered. "I had a boob job. My dad's a doctor, and he didn't mind paying for it. And I know I'm not the only one in this room that has had a procedure, and I'm not the only one that could benefit from it either," she said. "And Finn, you are probably the most in need of cosmetic surgery or a hard core workout regimen of anyone here, other than Wheezie over there."
Mercedes raised her fists, and stared at Santana icily.
Santana continued addressing Finn. "You have puffy pyramid nipples. You could dust them with powdered sugar and they would be mistaken for one of Hummel's desserts. I'm just saying, if you look in the mirror, and you don't like what you see, you should change it."
"I used to forget to change my underwear, so I just stopped wearing any," Brittany admitted.
Santana shook her head. "That's not what I meant, honey," she smiled. "I'm just saying that some of you might benefit from getting professional help."
"Including you, Santana," Tina remarked.
"I'm sorry. I always go to the yelling place. I have rage," Santana explained.
"I doubt that the makeovers will be that drastic," Artie stated, trying to ease the tension in the room."
"Oh please, Mr. Rogers," Kitty snarled. "You would be one of the ones that would benefit from a makeover the most. Did you raid Mr. Shuster's wardrobe. Your vests are almost as pathetic as Berry's sweaters."
"I think Rachel's sweaters are cute," Finn blushed. "And Artie looks fine. But it might be nice to get a new look."
"Well, Frankenteen, the people that have to look at you will probably agree as well," remarked Jesse.
Cassie propped her feet up on the table. "I'm dying for some popcorn right now. This is high quality entertainment."
"Let's move on, shall we," Carmen suggested. "We will review these song choices, and we'll let you know if there are any issues. We expect you all back here at two PM to meet the stylists so they can meet you and get an idea of what they will need to do for your makeovers. It is required that you show up on time, or there will be consequences. The staff all works very hard, and scheduling can be a nightmare. We have roughly a week and a half to prepare everything for the first show, so you will all have a very strict schedule. Speaking of schedules, here are your schedules for all of your rehearsals. We will see you at five 'til two."
"Dude, what songs did you and Blaine decide on?" Finn asked Artie as he threw on an old gray t-shirt.
"Well, we submitted 'Control' as our first choice," Artie answered.
"Oh, that's cool. Wait, Janet Jackson?" Finn questioned.
"Yeah, apparently Blaine likes singing songs by female artists. It's cool. I like Janet, although I believe that Michael is the king of pop for a reason, I like the song Blaine suggested for this challenge. It fits the theme, and it has strong meaning for both of us."
"Why?" Finn asked.
"Because it's something I wish I had more of," Artie explained. "When you're in a chair, it's hard to feel like you've ever grown up. Everyone's always doing stuff for you, and they get freaked out about saying the wrong thing, so they coddle you. Sometimes it's hard to picture a life of being totally self-sufficient. My mom didn't even want me to come here because she was so worried that I would be mistreated."
"That sucks, dude. I'm sorry people treat you like that," Finn sympathized. "I'm surprised Blaine would pick a song like that. He's seems very confident and in control of his actions. I'm kinda jealous that he seems so self-assured."
Well, Blaine isn't as self-assured as he seems, although he's more confident than many gay guys that I've met. He had his own reasons for the song choice, but I won't betray his trusts. It's just something we both understand."
"So, that was really cool what you did for Blaine."
"Hey, he stuck up for me too. Brody made some comments about me being in a wheelchair, and he stuck up for me."
He's a great guy and a good performer, and I'm sure you guys will be great. I know that's not the only reason you picked him. It was Sebastian, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. You saw how he acted when he saw that I chose Blaine first. He had a little tantrum. He just strikes me as the kind of person who gets his way all the time, regardless of what everyone else wants or needs. I guess our song also reflects that as well. We aren't going to let him have control either."
"Most men that I meet have no problem letting me be in control. I'm sure Blaine wouldn't be the exception," Sebastian said slyly, running a small towel over his wet head, as he exited the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Guys like you give gay guys a bad image, you know that?" Finn asked.
"I'll have you know that my name has been muttered, moaned, and screamed affectionately and passionately by many a gay man." Sebastian interjected. "Jealous?"
"Of what, your slimy demeanor or your mediocre, nasally tone?" Artie countered. "Actually, I need to ask you the same question."
"Seriously, with your Mr. Rogers wardrobe and your defective legs, you have nothing I would ever desire," Sebastian retorted.
"Except my duet partner," Artie grinned.
"You little gimp. I knew you did it on purpose. You obviously don't like gay men."
"Blaine's gay. Kurt is gay. I have no problem with them. My problem is with you," Artie replied.
"Well, it seems we are at an impasse. I refuse to room with someone who clearly hates me," Sebastian stated.
"Then, you're screwed because that leaves no one to room with," Finn fired back. "I agree with Kurt. The animals sleep on the lawn."
"You really think you're bad, don't you? You're former jock that peaked in high school, aspiring to be a football coach to a mediocre team in the middle of nowhere. A small town nobody."
Finn looked hurt. How the hell did Sebastian know all of that. "I'd rather be a small town nobody than an upscale, first class jackass anyday. We aren't rooming with you."
"Darn, thrown out of my own room by two homophobic dicks, although I'm not sure that little paraplegic over there counts, because his is probably defective."
"That's enough. Get you faggy ass out of here. Now!" screamed Finn, throwing his bedding at him.
""What's going on in here? What did you just say to him?" Mr. Shuster demanded.
"Sebastian just made handicap slurs at Artie."
"What you said was no better," Mr. Shu replied. "That word is extremely offensive.
"So is calling Artie a gimp, as well as him making sexual slurs at him as well. I don't think what I said was out of line if you would have heard what Sebastian said first," Finn retorted.
"I don't think this room arrangement is working for you guys." Will reasoned. "We will work something out. Finn, Artie, I'd like to speak with you in private. Sebastian, pack your things, and I will go talk to Ms. Pillsbury about other options."
"I should have known better than to come with you when you were going to be talking to other people that know fashion. I thought you forgot about me," Burt remarked.
"Dad, I was just getting to know my co-workers."
"You were just abandoning your old man." Burt joked.
"Whining does not become you. It only gives you wrinkles, so grin and bear it, old man," Kurt chuckled.
"I'm not old," Burt objected.
"That'd be a good argument, if we weren't going to meet your assisted living nurse."
"Quit harassing your old man," Burt pouted. "I still say I don't need a nurse," Burt fussed as they rode in the taxi on the way to the restaurant, where they were supposed to have lunch with the lady that would be responsible for him while Kurt was working.
"Dad, it will be fine. Isabelle said she seemed lovely over the phone." Kurt assured him.
"Yeah, and so did that Annie chick in that Misery movie by Stephen King. That chick was nuts."
"This isn't a novel, and you aren't an award winning author. Once again, you're whining."
"I just survived a heart attack again. I have a right to whine," Burt justified.
"Well then, you should be gloating. Rachel was my roommate, so I tolerate bragging. Honestly though, I'm really glad that you're ok. And I'm glad that you're here with me. We're here," Kurt stated as the cab pulled up to the curb.
Burt handed the cabbie a twenty and stepped out of the cab. "Well, let's get this over with," he grumbled.
As they walked into the fancy establishment, Kurt walked over to the hostess and mentioned their reservation. She joyfully led them to a table, where a woman in her early forties was sitting. Kurt stood behind the hostess until he realized Burt wasn't with them. Kurt spotted him, frozen in place, staring at the woman that might become his future caregiver.
"Dad, are you ok?" Kurt questioned.
"Yeah, I'm fine. That's my nurse?" Burt practically had hearts in his eyes.
"Yeah, she seems lovely," Kurt answered.
"Lovely isn't the word for it. I take back all my former objections," Burt blurted.
"Oh, look at that. Someone's been shot in the ass by Eros."
"I thought it was arrows?"
"Eros, Cupid. You look absolutely smitten, Dad, and you haven't even talked to her yet. Come on." Kurt said, grabbing his father's hand and dragging to the table. "It's rude to leave a lady waiting." Kurt stated
"Well, then let's sit down." Burt replied. "Hello, I'm Burt," he said, extending his hand to the woman who had captured his attention moments ago.
"Carol." she said, holding his hand, with no intention of being the first to release it.
Kurt stood by the table looking at the love struck expression on both of their faces. He imagined that he looked the same when he saw Blaine for the very first time. Ugh! Why did he have to think of Blaine. He finally stuck out his hand toward Carol. "I'm Kurt. I'm sorry to introduce myself, but my father seems to have forgotten his manners."
"Oh, I don't know about that. He seems very much like a gentleman to me," answered Carol, smiling. "So, tell me what my responsibilities will be if I am hired to assist Mr. Hummel with his care."
"Dad is supposed to be taking it easy. He's very stubborn by nature, and I just need someone to make sure that he sticks to his diet and takes his medication as required. I also don't want him doing any heavy lifting or overexerting himself."
"Kurt, You sound like my mother. I'm right here, and I can speak for myself," Burt interjected.
"I think that it's sweet that your son is looking out for you. It's a sign of a great parent. I wish my son was as empathetic as yours seems to be. And he's so very stylish," Carol stated.
"Why thank you! See Dad, someone does appreciate my sense of fashion," Kurt said as a cocky grin spread across his face.
"Yeah, and from someone so bold in her fashion choices as well. I was saying to a friend that acid wash should make a comeback," Burt grinned.
"No, you were saying it to me, and my opinion is still the same," Kurt said.
"Whoever said it ever left?" Carol giggled.
"Vogue, GQ, Vanity Fair, and every other authority in fashion," Kurt replied. "But on you, it surprisingly works. I just got a job as a stylist. If you ever want a makeover, just say the word. They are great for a boost in confidence."
"I think she's beautiful just the way she is," Burt flirted. "And true confidence is having the guts to wear what you want. Didn't you tell me that once."
"I've never going to say that flannel is fashionable, Dad."
"You wore flannel just last night," Burt reminded Kurt.
"They were pajama bottoms, and I only wore them because I haven't unpacked my silk ones yet," Kurt countered.
"My son has a tendency to wear flannel too. I think it makes him look adorable.," Carol chuckled.
"So, you said that you have a son," Burt asked. "Tell me about him. I'm sure he's amazing, if he was raised by you."
Kurt smiled. He was astonished at how easily Burt and Carol seemed to be getting along. Burt didn't just seem comfortable. He seemed happy.
"I do, although you might not get to meet him right now. He's filming," Carol answered.
"Oh, is he an actor?" Burt asked.
"No, not really. He's a contestant on a reality show. Some brand new singing competition called Dueling Duets, although I think the name is just silly. He just got to call me last night."
"You son is a contestant of Dueling Duets?" Kurt blurted. " I was too. It really is a small world."
"You were a contestant. Oh honey, I'm sorry, were you cut?"
"I wasn't cut. I resigned when I found out that Dad was sick. But they just hired me to be a stylist. This time on Monday, I might be giving your son a makeover. So which one is your son."
"Finn Hudson."
"I would've never guessed you were his mother," Kurt chuckled. "He's just so tall, and you are so cute and petite. Although I wouldn't mind to give him a makeover either. I'd throw out his flannel."
Carol laughed. "I bet you and Finn would get along. Well, not if you threw out his clothes. But I bet he liked you. He's drawn to fiery personalities."
"Oh, there are plenty of those on the show. My friend Rachel is probably the biggest diva of them all, although I could give her a run for her money. I would've never guessed that Finn is drawn to extremely unpredictable people. He seems so laid back, so calm."
"Oh, he is. I think those kind of people balance him out and challenge him to take some risks, although I don't always agree with all of them," Carol shook her head. "I wish he would've finished his degree before he did this, but I just don't want him to give up on his other dreams either. That's why I encouraged him to audition, but I only agreed if I could be nearby. Don't worry. He doesn't even know. I just didn't want to be halfway across the country. An old friend challenged him to audition."
"Really," Kurt responded.
"Yeah, he's on the show too. Noah, but Finn and everyone else calls him Puck."
"Puck! Badass number one. They didn't really come across as friends."
"They drifted apart. Noah enrolled in college with Finn for a year before he dropped out. They played football together. I didn't like him at first because he seemed liked a bad influence, but he wasn't as bad as he seemed. And Finn was a good influence on him too. He encouraged Puck to move to LA and pursue his dream of running his pool business. Puck reminded him of that when he told Finn about the audition. He said he was worried that Finn was just settling, and that he should follow his dreams, just like he had pushed him to do."
"Puck, huh. Well, I guess people can surprise you," Kurt commented.
"College football, huh? Where?" Burt inquired.
"Ohio state." Carol replied.
"Really, they played for the Buckeyes. I bet I've seen him in a game on tv. I watch their games religiously. I've even attended a game or two when we lived in Ohio," Burt said.
"That's amazing. I can't believe we're both from Ohio?" Carol gushed. "So, maybe we need to get back to the issue at hand," Carol redirected to the Hummel men. "If you were to hire me for the position, what would be my main responsibilities?"
"There's no ifs." Burt said, nodding at Kurt.
"Carol, we'd like to hire you to be Dad's caregiver," Kurt smiled as he warmly shook the lady's hand.
"And I'd like to accept. It would be my pleasure," Carol replied.
"The pleasure would be all mine," Burt said with a flirty tone. "You can start immediately.
""Very well," Carol giggled.
"Shoot. I actually have another appointment with the realtor and then I wanted to swing back by the show. Is it ok if I excuse myself?."
"Son, it's fine, but I'm not done with lunch yet. And Carol hasn't finished her salad yet. Go and do what you need to do. We can catch a cab home."
"Do you remember the name and address of the hotel? There are hundreds of hotels here in LA, and I doubt you will randomly be able to find it easily." Kurt asked.
"Uh, not exactly," Burt admitted. "But I'm not an idiot. I wrote the address down before I left."
"Where?"
"On this slip of paper. It's right here in my pocket." Burt fished around in his pockets for the slip of paper, frowning as he realized the slip of paper wasn't there."
"Looking for this?" Kurt grinned triumphantly. "Here. Carol, I'm trusting that you will make sure that he makes it home safely."
"I promise that he will make it home in one piece, Kurt," Carol assured him.
"Why do I feel like I was just made to look foolish," Burt chuckled.
"You weren't. I think you are adorable," Carol smiled. "Kurt, go run along to your meeting. We'll be fine."
Kurt smiled. He knew they would be. Kurt made a mental note to send a huge bouquet of flowers to Isabelle. It was as if she hand-picked Carol for Burt. If he didn't know better, he might have suspected that Isabelle had planned this. He shot her a text,
Kurt to Isabelle: Well, what do you know? You aren't just my Fairy Godmother. You're my Father's as well.
Isabelle to Kurt: Did they meet? How did it go?
Kurt to Isabelle: They are a match made in heaven. You know, if you ever leave Vogue, you have another option as a professional matchmaker.
Isabelle to Kurt: And what about your perfect match? Have you seen him yet?
Kurt to Isabelle: No, but I'm on my way. I can't wait to see the look on his face.
Isabelle to Kurt: Oh Darling, I wish that I could see yours. Go, Kurt. You get in there and show everyone how fabulous you truly are, including your future beau.
Kurt to Isabelle: Well, if you insist!
"Blaine, you are so lucky to be paired with Artie. He's great." Sam commented as they sat in their room watching Avatar.
"Sebastian's good too," Blaine replied.
"Yes, and he knows it. He's obnoxious."
"He is, but I would've loved the opportunity to sing with most of the other guys too. I still hope that you and I could sing together. I like the tone of your voice. And we could probably play our own instruments," Blaine said. "When this is over, we should check out the studio. However, we might have to kick out the diva first."
"Which one? Because in this crowd, you'll have to be much more specific," Sam laughed.
"This time, I'm referring to Rachel," Blaine chuckled, "although I see your point. How much does she have to rehearse?"
"Just be glad you don't room with her. Apparently, she gets out of bed at 3 AM to run on the treadmill, and then proceeds to take a shower, of course doing her vocal warm ups while she's in there." Sam stated.
"Thank God you don't do that, man. I don't know how Kurt put up with her." Blaine said, frowning when he realized that he had said Kurt's name.
"I'm sorry, Blaine. I know that you miss him. I'm here if you want to talk about it, if you need to."
"Oh, did you read the letter?" Blaine asked. "What did he have to say in is letter?"
"He just asked me to watch out for you." Sam answered, "Especially regarding Sebastian."
"I can take care of myself," Blaine pouted. 'I was a champion fencer at Dalton, and you know I can box. Why doesn't anyone think I can defend myself?"
"We don't think you can't. We feel that you shouldn't have to," replied Sam. "You're a great guy, Blaine, and everyone cares about you. But it's also the principal of it all. We'd all stick up for anyone that was being pursued so relentlessly by that guy."
"He's trying to room with us," Blaine commented "Now that Kurt's gone."
"No way that's going to happen!" Sam exclaimed. "I'm not usually a confrontational person, but If he gives me one more snotty little remark about my song suggestions or my dance moves, I'm going to duct tape him to his bed."
"That sounds kinky, Guppy lips," Sebastian quipped, barging into their room. "We need to rehearse some more. So we can dominate the competition. Or we could lock the door of our room and dominate Blaine right now."
"Our room," Sam asked. "Don't you mean Blaine's and My room?"
"No, I happen to know my pronouns, unlike some public school boys that scored the lowest score on the SAT ever reported at their school. I read that you couldn't even get into community college." Sebastian taunted. "It seems being a loser is a family trait though, seeing as your father couldn't hold down a job. I guess living in a mansion is a major step up compared to that hotel you were living in. I bet Quinn would find that a major turn-on," he added. Sam dropped his head in shame.
"I'm gonna go," Sam said sadly, "Before I rearrange your face so much that no stylist will be able to salvage it, although that may be a pretty difficult task as is, so it's not really worth the effort," he said, closing the door behind him.
"Why do you have to be such a complete douchebag? You are not sharing a room with us," Blaine stated. "No way. And you're going to leave Sam alone," Blaine asserted. "Why in the Hell did you pick him as your partner?"
"Because he seemed like he could benefit most from my expertise. He could learn so much from me. I was trying to be charitable, since I couldn't have my first choice. I really just feel sorry for the guy," Sebastian said stepping forward, right into Blaine's personal space.
"Well, I feel sorry for you. Sam is a very talented person or he wouldn't be here. And he has his weaknesses, but his strengths greatly outweigh them. If you had an ounce of his compassion, I'd actually wouldn't detest you."
"And if he had an ounce of your intelligence, I wouldn't have had to read the lyrics to him earlier. I mean, it's just sad, really. He just reeks of inferiority .He doesn't really listen to my suggestions about dance steps and song keys. The poor guy just doesn't seem like he can keep up. I'd hate for him to screw up and be eliminated."
"What are you up to, Sebastian? Are you threatening to try and get Sam eliminated by sabotaging the performance?"
"Who me? I'd never do anything to sabotage my own act. Poor Sam though. He looked so embarrassed and upset by that little piece of information I stumbled upon. How am I to be blamed for him being a bumbling fool? A real friend would try to help him out."
"How would you suggest that I do that? I'm sure your intentions are pure," Blaine accused, the sarcasm dripping from his words.
"Purity is overrated, although I doubt you would agree. Yours is probably still technically in tact, although I'm sure you had a friend or two play with your twinkle tube. If not, I could fix that little problem for you." Sebastian sneered. "Honestly, I'm out of Sam's league. He's going to look pathetic performing next to me. You know he's not the sharpest tool in the shed. I would hate for him to perform poorly due to him being in such a negative head space. You and I are a much better match. I'd still be willing to trade, and let him sing with Artie, and you and I could sing together."
"I'm not singing with you Sebastian, and you're going to leave Sam alone!"
"Bossy Blaine. I love it. Tell me what else that you want me to do."
"I want you to shut the hell up and leave Sam and I alone."
"Anything for you. All you have to do is allow me to be your roommate. Otherwise, I have nowhere else to sleep. Your sweater-loving partner threw me out."
"And if I let you room in here?" Blaine questioned.
"I'll do as you desire, although you don't seem to share the same fantasies for us that I do," Sebastian said, cocking an eyebrow. "I'll do the song he wants us to do as well, even though I think it doesn't really do anything for my voice."
"What if I say no?" Blaine asked.
"Then it's bye-bye Sam, and you will be in a room by yourself, and of course they can't have you in a room all by yourself. We will end up together anyway. You see what happened to the last person that tried to go toe-to-toe with me. You'll be with me either way, Sebastian threatened. "
"What is that supposed to mean, asshole?" Blaine yelled, pushing Sebastian back. "If I find out you had anything to do with causing Kurt to resign, I will personally give you a nose job, specialty off my right hook."
"Right hook! Ooh, Blaine has fancy moves. So do I. Care for me to demonstrate, roomie?" Sebastian smirked, as he cocked his eyebrow.
"Never going to happen, but I will agree to the roommate thing on one condition. You better leave Sam alone, and you stay out of our stuff and out of our business. You got that? Or I will make good on my promise to kick your ass," Blaine warned.
"I'd rather you do other things to my ass, but we can switch. What was that you said about feisty being sexy. You're smoldering baby, and it's hot as Hell!" Sebastian remarked. "Wanna help me collect my things?"
"Only if you want them saturated in chlorinated water when the guys and I submerge them in the pool."Blaine replied blandly.
"Fine," I'll go get my them, roomie." Sebastian smirked.
Blaine sighed. What in the hell did he just agree to? He knew he couldn't waste time thinking about it now. He had to go find Sam.
Author's Note: Don't forget this week's poll. The first theme is songs of inspiration. What other themes would you like featured on the show. The poll will only be open until the new chapter is posted so please share your thoughts.