"Why am I sitting behind him?!" Rachel demanded to know just as Sebastian pulled out on the road that would take them away from New York. She did so very loudly, and all the three boys in the car more or less groaned.
"Because you're the shortest and, therefore, demand less space for your legs, so naturally you should sit behind the driver seat since the one driving should always be in perfect position since he or she is driving. And Sebastian's driving because it's his car, and I'll take over once he needs a break, okay?" Kurt explained as patiently as he could manage; it was still some time around 7 AM, and no one, except Rachel, was really that awake.
Rachel snorted disapprovingly, and Kurt looked back at her only to find her pouting with her arms crossed.
"It's a seven-hour road trip, Rachel, try to be cooperative, will you?"
She sighed deeply before looking back at him, nodding slightly.
"Thank you. Now do you want to borrow a magazine or sleep?" he asked.
"You only brought fashion magazines with you, didn't you?"
"Of course, don't you know me at all? And besides, perhaps you'll actually learn something from them," he said fondly and chuckled at the way she was playfully sticking her tongue out at him.
"Wish me good morning, God knows Finn doesn't need it," she said as she tried to make herself comfortable and damn, she was right, his brother was already asleep.
"Goodness," Kurt mumbled. "Good morning, Rachel." He turned back to Sebastian who had his eyes on the road, looking possibly as blank as one could probably get.
"Dans quelques minutes elle sera en train de dormir, tu sais," Kurt said, meeting Sebastian's eyes when they looked over for a second before turning back to the road.
"Et pour quelle raison j'aurai envie de savoir ça?" Sebastian asked in a tone that was probably meant to sound nonchalant, but Kurt didn't think for a moment that that was all there was to it.
"Parce que comme ça tu pourras écouter doucement ta musique de supermarché et gracieusement éviter de réveiller tout le monde."
It was sort of thrilling, how he and Sebastian could still talk in the car, perhaps not as freely as before, but still talk without other people understanding because no one else could speak French. Like they still shared something special between them; secrets that no one else knew, and it was all thrilling in a way that Kurt had ever experienced before. Sebastian was still more closed than before, but that was expected since they had two people behind them who, if they wanted, could listen and see everything Kurt and Sebastian did and said –– hell, Kurt didn't like the thought, what must Sebastian be feeling?
Just as they passed the sign that said that they had left New York City behind them, Kurt turned around to find Rachel asleep.
"They're both sleeping now," he informed Sebastian who seemed to hesitate for a moment, before turning on the radio.
It was only (although 'only' and 'only' could most definitely be discussed) two hours after departure that they stopped to take a break and eat breakfast; it was when Finn's hunger outgrew his need for sleep. They had found a little road stop outside, one of those that only consisted of a couple of benches and tables, with a public toilet and a rather nice scenery in this case, including a green little forest to the left of the benches and parking lot. It was quite dead when they got there, and it wasn't too much of a surprise really, but Kurt suspected that those coach trips that travelled this highway were likely to take one of their quick stops here; it was one of the nicer resting places Kurt had seen.
"So, Sebastian," Rachel started as they settled down a table, and Kurt just knew that this one wasn't going to end well. "Where did you grow up?"
Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her, clearly baffled by her sudden interest in him. "Here and there," he answered vaguely.
"Because I couldn't help noticing that you and Kurt spoke French just before I fell asleep," Rachel pushed, Kurt listening to the conversation closely and Finn stuffing his face with sandwich.
"My mum's French," Sebastian said, just as monotone as before. His walls were up again, shielding himself from Rachel, and while Kurt didn't like it, he couldn't blame Sebastian; he had been like that around Rachel once upon a time too.
"Really?!" Rachel exclaimed melodramatically. "So, you grew up in France?"
"Partly," Sebastian said, crossing his arms defensively.
"Only partly?"
"Does it sound like I have an accent to you?" Sebastian deadpanned, obviously tired of Rachel already.
"No, but how was I supposed to know that you didn't just take an intense course to get rid of it?" Rachel pointed out with a shrug before taking a bite of her specially made vegan-sandwich original by Kurt E. Hummel.
"Parce que tu crois vraiment que j'apprendrai intentionnellement l'américain pour avoir cet accent?" Sebastian muttered underneath his breath, and Kurt raised an eyebrow at the dig but said nothing.
"But you started at Dalton last year, am I right?" Rachel went on, and Sebastian simply nodded in confirmation. "So before that you lived in France?"
"Paris," Sebastian snapped, clenching his jaw and glaring at Rachel.
Kurt could hear the warning bells ringing loudly around them; Sebastian's whole composure screamed 'fuck off' and 'don't go there,' and Kurt knew that Sebastian's past in Paris together and his future in USA were both touchy subjects, and while he could maybe scratch on the surface, Kurt didn't know what would happen if Rachel continued with this line of interrogation.
"Oh, you must miss it, I mean compared to Ohio. How long will you live here?"
"Well, everything continues in its smooth, gentle development," Sebastian started, a low burning fire slowly moving to the surface behind his mask, "and I mean why wouldn't it? God knows my dad is brilliant at what he does, and Dieu merci for that –– how else could I ever live the life I lead –– but most likely, I'd say for fucking ever." With that, Sebastian rose from his seat and stormed away.
Kurt shot Rachel an angry bitch-glare, and she opened her mouth, most likely to shift the blame, but he just got up and went after Sebastian before she got a chance.
Sebastian, damn his long legs, was far into the little forest when Kurt caught up with him, finding the boy leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and glaring blankly ahead. Before Kurt could even come up with something to say, Sebastian snapped.
"Why did you follow me?" he demanded, still keeping his eyes pointedly ahead.
Kurt hadn't really expected that, up till now Sebastian had always gone quiet when he was mad, but this time was clearly an exception.
"Because I mean, why would you follow me into the fucking woods, huh, Kurt?"
"Because you're clearly angry about something," Kurt tried gently, as he took small steps before he so he could look Sebastian in the eyes when the boy decided to actually look at him.
"So?!" Sebastian exclaimed, finally glaring at him and not some random tree.
"So –– why? I get that Rachel can be rude or pushy from time to time, but she wasn't outright insulting you so –– " Kurt started, but Sebastian cut him off.
"For fuck's sake, Hummel, don't you get it?! I don't want to be here, in this forest, in this country, on this fucking continent. I want to be back in Paris, but instead I've been forced to live in fucking Ohio and watch through a goddamn screen how I'm forgotten in country that is so fucking nuts and contradicting and let's not mention homophobic, and I don't want this life!" Sebastian was close to breathless at the end of his little speech; he had unlocked his arms, eyes wild with anger, restlessness and a desperation for something, and Kurt couldn't stop himself from getting riled up.
"But you'll just have to make the best out of the situation, and you can probably go to college in France if you want to –– "
"That's not the same freaking thing, Kurt, and you know it!" Sebastian shouted.
"So what? You're just gonna lie around and wait for the life to happen then?"
"Don't mind if I fucking do! Why should I care for something that I don't want, and it's not fucking fair!"
"Well, life isn't fair, Sebastian," he snapped back. "It doesn't stop just because you're sad or angry or disappointed, take it from me, I know. Life is like a freaking road, Sebastian, and it doesn't let you stop for too long to take a break before you have to get a move on, or else it'll go right past you and leave you behind. You can only continue and keep on going."
"But how the fuck should I do that, Kurt?! Please tell me that because I'm dying to know!"
"You –– " Kurt stopped himself, taking a deep breath through nose and looking away for a second, trying to sort his thoughts out before looking back at him. "You know what? You're a fucktard, Sebastian. A first class fucktard. Because you're so damn stubborn and just plain stupid that you don't get that life is what you make of it!"
"And how the hell am I supposed to make up a road out of fucking nothing, Kurt?!"
"Get into your fucking head that there's always a way, Sebastian! You just need to get up your lazy arse and walk."
"Oh, but I can walk anywhere right here and right now if I want to, smartarse, but I don't, so I won't." Sebastian sneered, his awful expression of cruelty reminding Kurt of the Sebastian Smythe that he knew before: the egocentric, childish, spoiled one who always wore such a rude smirk on his face. He was back.
"There's always a road that leads somewhere," Kurt said, the lack of shouting in his voice speaking louder than any scream ever could. "You take your pick."
With that, Kurt walked away, not interested in the defensive rudeness that Sebastian was giving him, and he knew that his words wouldn't mean anything to him. Inside, he felt like crying, like he had lost someone important all over again, like he had with both his mother, Mercedes and Blaine, and that lump in his throat just kept getting bigger and bigger with every step he took. The last couple of days and even this morning when Sebastian placing a coffee cup in front of him suddenly seemed so far away.
So Kurt focused on the anger that was running through him, the disappointment and grudge –– anything but sadness!
With determined steps, he walked up to Finn and Rachel who both saw him coming, their faces paling at the sight of his anger.
"All done?" he asked, and they both nodded like they didn't dare to do otherwise. "Good. Pack up and get doing," he demanded, putting the few sandwiches that were left back into the plastic containers that he had brought them in before shoving them all back into a bag and stalking to the car, Rachel and Finn trailing behind him.
Thankfully, Sebastian hadn't locked the car, so Kurt opened it and gestured for Rachel to get inside.
"I'll sit in the back with Rachel for now," Kurt said simply, looking at Finn like he dared him to argue. Finn, of course, didn't, but he did look like he had something to say, or ask rather, and Kurt could already figure what it was, but he wasn't up for any questions so he just jumped inside the car, avoiding it all.
Sebastian chose this time to come out from hiding and went straight for the driver's seat throwing a quick look back. His jaw clenched when he saw Kurt sitting there.
Like he had any right to be upset, Kurt thought angrily. Sebastian was just the same as ever, and of course he wouldn't change, wouldn't open up, and especially not to Kurt.
But then why did his stomach twist in such an unpleasant way when he saw his brother taking the seat in front of him, his seat, his mind supplied, but no, that seat wasn't his any more than Sebastian himself was.
It didn't matter that he was in a small car with three other people. Kurt still felt alone.
"Dans quelques minutes elle sera en train de dormir, tu sais." –– "She'll be asleep in a couple of minutes you know."
"Et pour quelle raison j'aurai envie de savoir ça?" –– "And why would I want to know that?"
"Parce que comme ça tu pourras écouter doucement ta musique de supermarché et gracieusement éviter de réveiller tout le monde." –– "So you can put on that wrecked music of yours, at a low volume so you don't wake anyone of them up I might add."
"Parce que tu crois vraiment que j'apprendrai intentionnellement l'américain pour avoir cet accent?" –– "Why would I want to get an American accent willingly?"
"Dieu merci" –– "thank God"
"Fucktard" –– just because I feel the need to emphasize the meaning of this word; here's a definition taken from Urban Dictionary; "A person of unbelieveable, inexcusable and indescribable stupidity (stupidity being defined as "knowing how and doing it wrong anyway"). NOT A CONTRACTION FOR "FUCKING RETARD"! True Fucktards are 100% responsible for their situation and provide vast entertainment as they are usually blissfully unaware of their own Fucktardery. Most politicians for example."