May 2012
It took Kurt months to drive by the Puckerman house again. The day he did, he noticed two cars in the driveway. Ruth's boyfriend? Kurt wondered—until he saw the Dayton Opera House decal in the back window of the second car.
He parked in the street, feeling his heart pound. Then he climbed out of the car, walked to the side door of the house, and knocked.
Sarah came to answer it. "Hi!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside to the music room. "You get to meet Jake."
Jake was just as slim and handsome as the snapshot on Aaron's fridge made him out to be. He set down the guitar he was holding and looked at Sarah.
"This is Kurt," she said meaningfully.
"Ohhh." Jake gave him a little wave. "Puck used to talk about you all the time."
He nodded. "Not so much anymore, huh?"
"Now he's always doing school stuff." He made a face. "Or him and Dad are at the opera house."
"He means Felix," said Sarah. "We know my dad's really his dad, but…" She shrugged.
"Families are complicated," Kurt agreed. "My mom died when I was eight, but when I was a sophomore, he met the mom of another single parent at my school, and they got married. Now I've got a stepmom and a stepbrother."
Jake was still watching him. "You're gay, right?"
Kurt nodded, controlling his smile. "What gave it away?"
"You can't tell by looking at a person," Sarah informed Jake, but he shook his head.
"No, it was, just… because you and Puck, you were together. Right?"
Kurt nodded again. Jake picked up the guitar and strummed a chord.
"What about you?" Kurt asked.
It felt like a risky question to ask a kid he'd only just met, but Jake only said, "Everybody thinks I am because I like dancing."
"He's really good," Sarah said.
"Liking dancing, or anything else, doesn't make you gay."
Jake didn't say anything in response, but he seemed reassured.
"I saw a video of your mom doing a play," Kurt went on. "Is she a dancer, too?"
"She was." They looked up to see Tanisha standing in the hallway, smiling at them. "Not for a lot of years, though. How's your senior year going, Kurt?"
"Quickly," he admitted. "Our Glee club won Nationals a few weeks ago. It's all been very exciting."
He noticed Jake scowling over his guitar. Tanisha said, "Jake is—"
"I don't want to talk about Glee club," Jake said, his voice louder than it needed to be. Nobody seemed surprised by this.
"Why don't you come into the kitchen, Kurt?" Tanisha said, beckoning him to follow. Sarah looked crestfallen, but she waved goodbye as he went. Tanisha lowered her voice. "Jake feels anxious about the idea of being at a school where he isn't the only one who can do what he does. I suppose it could be because he's scared of competition, but I think it's really because that would mean he would have to talk to people."
"Being at a school—?" Kurt looked at Tanisha, startled. Ruth looked up from where she was sitting at the kitchen table. "Are you and Felix moving to Lima?"
Ruth sniffed. "No wonder you have questions, after not bothering to visit."
"It's his senior year, Ruth," Tanisha said. "Of course he's busy."
"I'm sorry for dropping in," Kurt began, but Ruth sighed and shook her head.
"I told you, you're welcome any time."
"I'm moving to Lima," Tanisha said. "Me, and Jake."
"It's for Jake," Ruth added. "He and Sarah can be together. Lima's schools have better test scores. Jake will have the music room."
Kurt smiled. "You're moving in here?"
"It'll save money," Ruth said sharply.
Tanisha reached out and took Ruth's hand. "It's… not just to save money," she told Kurt. "We were always a pretty good team."
Kurt had to grin at Ruth's flustered expression. "Felix will stay in Dayton, then?"
Ruth cleared her throat. "Felix and Aaron are moving to New York." She said New York like it was the pit of hell.
"Aaron accepted the summer director position at Usdan," Tanisha went on. "It'll be his directorial debut, but he thinks he can handle it. And Felix… well, Aaron's going to encourage him to leap back into a larger pond. Lots of opportunities for a well-connected, experienced actor in New York."
Tanisha looked pleased about this, so Kurt had to assume it didn't imply anything bad about their relationship. He looked back and forth from Ruth's sour face to Tanisha's placid one. "I'm really happy for all of you."
"We'll see," Ruth muttered. Tanisha patted her arm.
"When do you go to New York, Kurt?"
"At the end of June. My stepbrother's boyfriend Michael has a loft with friends in Bushwick, and they're graduating. They're moving out, and we're moving right in."
"Noah is—" she began, but even as Ruth frowned, Kurt held up a hand.
"If you were going to tell me about the upcoming production of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest at the Opera House, I know about that. It's a little dark for me, but I'll be there. He was incredible in Amadeus."
"He really was," Tanisha agreed. "It was like seeing Aaron on the stage all over again."
"Well, I won't stay, but thanks for the update." Kurt stood and pushed his chair in. "Do you have any idea when they're leaving Dayton?"
As he returned to his car, Kurt wondered, as he often did these days, if he would ever return to this place again. Visiting this house in particular made him feel remarkably melancholy, even though he'd done relatively little to help clean it up. It was Noah's, and the site of a few of his important firsts. He couldn't remember the exact dates, though he imagined Noah could. Noah remembered everything.
He waited until he was home to call Felix. Kurt had discovered he was the only one who was likely to take his calls.
"Let me get Aaron," Felix said to Kurt. "How have you been?"
"Busy, and excited, and terrified, in that order," Kurt said. "I was wondering why you hadn't auditioned for One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Felix, until I found out the two of you are moving."
"We decided—the four of us decided—it was time for a change. Now that—well. Dayton's been good to us, but it's time to move on." Felix's rich voice was full of anticipation. "Tanisha will keep both houses for now, maybe rent or sell them."
"Two men, one car," intoned Aaron, "a shit-ton of emotional baggage…"
Kurt laughed. "Sounds like an adventure."
"Going back to Usdan in many ways feels like giving up, but in other ways like coming home." Aaron sounded in good spirits, too. "It'll be a safe place to find out if I can handle directing."
"Well, I'll be there to watch your performances in July. Do you happen to know who was hired to manage the internship program?"
"Mrs. Paige said her name was Connie, I think?" Felix said. "Detail-oriented and methodical, which is what that program needs. Something to balance the overload of creative energies of all of those crazy actors."
This time Kurt's laugh stuck in his throat. "Yes. Balance is good. I'm glad they found someone. I thought, maybe…"
It wasn't Chris. Whatever he had chosen to do, that wasn't it. Kurt was relieved to hear it, even if Chris had stopped calling him. Regardless of where he was, Kurt was certain Chris was more than resourceful enough to handle his own life.
"Kurt, while Noah is at rehearsal," Aaron said, "I wanted to tell you Noah and I have concluded our therapy with Greg. We have been pronounced as sane and competent as any American family—"
"And," Felix added, "he's committed to—"
"And I'm committed to working hard to maintain Noah's trust," Aaron went on, as though Felix hadn't spoken.
Kurt smiled at his earnest delivery, but he guessed it was spoken from the heart. "That's great news, but I'm not quite sure what that has to—"
"Noah's also been spending time in therapy on his own to make sense of himself. I'd hate for you to miss out on what he's discovered."
"Well." He cleared his throat. "That's up to him. I told him I wasn't going to bother him anymore."
"You were never a bother," said Felix. "You were a wake-up call. He wasn't ready to hear it before. Just—if you don't think it's too late, for you, find a way to let him know, okay? And if you want evidence that it's never too late, just look at us."
That optimistic suggestion reminded Kurt of something Carole had said months ago. That night, he called Noah's voicemail. From his notebook he brought out a poem, one he'd been saving for some time, and unfolded it.
"I'm sure you are busy in production for Cuckoo's Nest," he said into the phone, "so I hope you enjoy this sonnet when you have a moment to yourself. I though I would try a different author this time."
It had been a while since he'd attempted to declaim the way Bryce had taught him, the way he had on Noah's seventeenth birthday, and so many times since then. He put all the tools he'd learned to work: the ordered diction, the tension of the pacing, the design of the meter. It was all the components of composition, outlined by George Seurat, made manifest in sixteen lines of text.
"Young Thomas is a longshoreman by trade,
Whose guild ceased work to fight for wages fair.
The strike drags on; 'tis weeks since he's been paid—
A crawl toward destitution and despair.
But he has been from truest hardship saved;
His sweetheart Gina's at an inn employed
Where, for her love, she works as though enslaved
So they might still their usurers avoid.
She tells him softly, "We must not despair;
Despite our prospects grim, we must endure!
We have our love; 'tis wealth beyond compare,
Worth all the trials of our fate unsure.
With pray'r alone, we have survived 'til now.
Pray, take my hand! We'll triumph soon, I vow!"
He ended the call after the recitation was done, because a poem like that needed no adornment. He had to assume Noah, whom he knew had listened to the Slippery When Wet album countless times since middle school, would be able to figure it out its origin. This was the best way he could imagine to tell Noah he still believed in his dreams.
June 2012
"Is it this one?" Asher squinted at his phone in the midday sun. "I can't read the address."
"The next building, upstairs," Kurt called.
"Upstairs," Asher muttered. He wiped sweat off his forehead with one hand and tucked the keys to the moving van into his pocket with the other. "Of course."
"Michael and Finn will let you in if you ring the bell." He smirked. "Assuming they are dressed."
They were not only dressed, but they were ready with cold drinks.
"The lack of air conditioning isn't the worst thing about this place," Michael assured them, "but it appears to be the worst thing in the summer. I did tell you to bring a fan, right?"
Kurt was charmed by the structure of the loft, divided into rooms with crates and bookshelves and the creative use of draperies.
"I can imagine exactly how I might improve this," he told Michael excitedly. "If you wouldn't mind…"
Michael laughed. "You go to town, Kurt. I'm pretty sure Finn is accustomed to your style by now, and believe me, I'm used to over-the-top. No one is more of a decorating snob than my mother."
"He's not kidding," Finn agreed. "Scrollwork and velvet for days."
Asher and Blaine helped them bring in all the furniture and boxes from the moving van before collapsing in the kitchen in front of the big box fan.
Blaine leaned across the table toward Asher. "How about I return the van, and you order food, and I'll pick it up on my way back?"
"You sure you're okay finding your way back on the subway?" asked Michael, looking mildly alarmed, as Asher handed Blaine the keys.
"I'll consider it to be my first challenge in the city." Blaine planted a kiss on Asher, beamed, and bounced out the door.
"He does not care one bit that it's ninety degrees," Kurt said fondly.
Asher shook his head. "There's definitely something weird about that, but I'm not going to complain if it means he's willing to return the van. Any recommendations for cold takeout?"
They ended up getting Greek food from Ovelia and eating it out of the packaging, sprawled on the couches and chairs in the compartmentalized sitting area; Kurt thought it was too kind to call it a family room. But he smiled as he looked around at his friends.
"I'm really glad we're all here," he said. "Here, in New York, together."
Blaine looked at Asher, then back at Kurt, shaking his head. "We're not really all together. Some people are missing."
"Quinn's at Yale," said Finn, "Mike's in Chicago, the Joffrey, right? You guys are at Juilliard, that's not far away. Rachel's—well. She's working on it." He shrugged. "I hope they either let her into NYADA or convince her to stop asking before they slap a restraining order on her…"
"You know who I'm talking about," Blaine protested.
Asher handed Kurt the pitcher of ice water. "What happened between you and Chris, anyway? The last I heard you guys were getting along fine."
"I wish I knew. He wasn't sure about his future for a while, and then we just… stopped talking." Kurt's hands remained steady while he poured the water. "In some ways that hurt more than when Puck left McKinley without telling me."
He did have an idea why Chris might have stopped calling, of course, but he wasn't going to divulge that to the rest of their friends without his permission.
Blaine huffed. "Yes, Puck. What happened to him? He didn't just disappear off the face of the earth. Did he do something terrible and I missed the memo?"
"He doesn't want Kurt to know anything," Finn said reluctantly, glancing at him.
Kurt felt the pang of separation. It was less frequent now, but no less sharp. "I'd offer to go out of the room, but I suspect these 'walls' aren't going to afford much privacy."
"He didn't do anything terrible. Dude, you know I would have said something if it had been important."
Kurt took in their uncomfortable faces. "Well, since I'm not supposed to know anything, let me tell you what happened, and you can just deny all the things I get wrong. After establishing residency in the Dayton school district last spring, he moved in with his father, Aaron Puckerman, the formerly celebrated actor, now recovering addict and boyfriend to the delightful actor Felix Abrams. Following—"
"Wait, Puck's dad is gay?" Finn interrupted.
Kurt gave him a scornful look. "Watch your labels, Finn. I believe he identified himself to me as bisexual. May I continue? Following his great-uncle Bryce Coleman's sudden passing, he received a sizable inheritance to be used only for college. For his senior year, he applied to and was admitted to the Baldwin School for the Arts in Dayton, where he focused on dance and vocal technique. He also wrote his first play, a one-man performance piece about his own life—"
"I thought he wasn't supposed to know anything?" Blaine asked in confusion, but Asher shushed him and gestured for Kurt to go on.
"—and performed his first adult lead in a major production. That was Salieri in Amadeus at the Dayton Opera House. Later that spring, he played Randle Patrick McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. As Puck's senior year drew to a close, Felix's—partner? Wife? I have no idea—Tanisha and her son Jake planned their move to Lima, while Felix and Aaron packed up their car and drove to Long Island."
"To direct the plays at Usdan!" Asher said, grinning.
"For good, I think." Kurt nodded as Asher's grin gave way to surprise. "Yeah. I'm thinking we watch the New York Theater Guide for Felix's name in upcoming shows, although I'm not sure what Aaron is planning to do in the fall. As for Puck…" He held up his hands. "Unfortunately that's where my investigation petered out."
"Do you want to know?" asked Finn. "I mean, really? If he's moving on, and you're not part of it—"
"I would love to be the bigger man and say no, I don't want to know, that he can have his happy ending, and let it fade to credits." Kurt held up his cup in a toast. "Sadly, I am doomed to be nosy and inquisitive forever. As long as there's more to know about him, I'm going to want to know."
"Puck, uh, didn't go to college." Finn looked around at everyone, still looking nervous. "He applied for one of those internship thingies at your summer camp. He's living in New York City. With, um. With Chris."
Kurt found himself staring, and closed his mouth. "And from whom did you hear this?"
"From me," said Michael. "And I heard it from Puck, when I ran into them both at Ginger's at karaoke last week."
"Oh." The word came out breathy, like it had been forced out of his gut. "Well. Good for them." He picked up a napkin and began methodically wiping the honey from the loukoumades from his fingers. "No, I mean it. Things with him and Chris were always simpler. Maybe he can give him something I couldn't."
"They might just be roommates," Blaine said.
Before Michael could confirm or deny this, Kurt laughed and shook his head. "That's… not how it is between them. You get them in a room together, there will be sex." He raised his eyebrow at all four of them. "Come on, don't tell me you don't understand this."
They each looked at their boyfriends and laughed awkwardly. Kurt laughed with them.
While they cleaned up and said goodnight to Blaine and Asher, Kurt thought about the concept of Noah and Chris living together several times. Each time, it felt a little less jarring. After all, they'd been together before, hadn't they? He climbed out of the shower deciding it really would be okay.
He experienced a brief moment of sadness while, as he unpacked his things, he came across the framed third place certificate for his Young Playwrights submission. There was a copy of the certificate in an envelope, along with a copy of the play, waiting for him to give to Noah someday. It was entirely possible now that someday might happen while grocery shopping down the block, or going to the movies, or walking along the street in Bushwick. Somehow this made him cry. Maybe it was knowing he wasn't going to be the one doing any of those things with Noah, and watching him doing them with someone else, even someone he cared about, wasn't going to be easy. He hung the certificate above his bed anyway.
There was a knock on the crate that defined the doorway to his room. Kurt smiled and said, "Come in?"
Finn pushed the curtain aside. "I guess we'll have to figure out what it means to be living in one big room. You and me, we're kind of used to it, huh?"
"I'll get noise-cancelling headphones," Kurt assured him. He presented the room to Finn. "What do you think?"
"Looks like you," Finn said, nodding in approval. "Look, I wanted to apologize for not telling you about Puck."
"You really don't need to. No, really, Puck specifically said, more than once, stay out of my life, and you were going along with that. That just makes you a good friend." He sat down on his bed, crossing his legs, and made room for Finn to sit beside him. "I was kind of proud of how many people ended up on Puck's side."
"Well, after starting out as a screw-up, he turned out to be a pretty honorable guy." Finn nudged his knee. "You're totally the one who reformed him, you know?"
"No," said Kurt. "Puck did that himself."
"Anyway, now that you know, there's no reason I can't give you this." Kurt watched warily as Finn took his phone out of his pocket. After a moment, Kurt's phone chirped with a text. "He gave it to Michael at karaoke and asked me to pass it on to you. Said you'd recognize the author?"
Kurt licked his lips, staring at the voice recording. "Did you… listen to it?"
"I did, but it was just a sonnet. You know how Puck does Shakespeare. Sounds like it was funny, even if I didn't get it." Finn shrugged. "That's one of those things I would have learned at NYADA, I guess."
"Do you ever regret not choosing to go?"
"Nah. I don't mind just having a regular job for a while. I'm guessing you guys are going to be pretty tired this fall, based on how Michael said his first year was, so I figured one of my jobs would be to help feed you guys. If you can tolerate my cooking." Finn paused. "… And you probably want to listen to that message now. Good night, Kurt."
Kurt made a vague farewell gesture at the doorway, then greedily pressed play.
The sound was muffled at first, but Kurt decided that was deliberate as he could hear Noah attempting to stop laughing. "Holy shit, I'm never going to get through this—okay, okay, I'll try again. Take seven." He cleared his throat. It was something Kurt had been taught never to do before public speaking, so he guessed Noah must have done it for effect.
And then, in the fruitiest, most stereotypical highfaluting British accent Kurt had ever heard, Noah began to recite a sonnet. Kurt was so astonished by the overblown style that he barely paid attention to the words until Noah got to the last couplet.
"No," Kurt muttered, with a growing smile.
He scrubbed back to the beginning and played it again, and this time, he could hear what it was, and he laughed out loud. No wonder it took him seven takes.
"I found my way into the market square
To drink in deep the festival's delights.
I suffered the misfortune of you there,
Like I had borne through all our troubled nights.
So recently we'd broken bonds of love,
I doubted you had sooner still forgot;
Yet still your jealous ire rose hot above
When passions in another had grown hot.
Yes, I am in his gaze, and he in mine,
But your eyes somewhere else should swiftly start—
For three long years, I left myself to pine
For matrimony's gifts to grace my heart.
If truly you did wish to win my hand,
You should have graced it with a wedding band."
There was a pause at the end, and then Noah's regular voice, closer to the mic: "Your dream, babe. You gave me mine, I figure I should give you yours. Don't let anybody tell you you can't have it. Okay?"
"Okay," Kurt whispered, still smiling.
(Author's note: If you aren't already familiar with the magnificent Popsonnets in this chapter, they are written by Erik Didriksen and can be found at popsonnet dot tumblr dot com as well as in book form. You will forgive the time slip; neither sonnet was written at the time this story is set, but let's pretend they were. The one Kurt recited for Noah was inspired by "Livin' on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi, and the one Noah recited in return was inspired by "Single Ladies" by Beyoncé Knowles.
This is technically the end of this not-a-tragedy, but I have more ideas in my head about what happens next, so the epilogue continues the story after NYADA. -amy)