TRIGGER WARNINGS: The following themes are in this fic: self-harm, addiction, homophobia, abuse, abandonment, self-destructive behaviors and thoughts, suicidal thoughts. If you are not into serious angst, depression and dark fics, feel free to skip this one.

Chapter 7: The interview: POV Kurt

Kurt woke Wednesday morning feeling disappointed that the euphoria from last night had dissipated. He was now waking to the stress and the anxiety he had gotten lucky enough to forget about last night. He got up, and went straight to his desk, where his small mirror was. He sat down and applied his morning moisturizer and creams. After doing so he then got dressed in a business professional outfit, and coiffed his hair and made sure to shave clean. He took a deep breath and looked at himself. This Kurt Hummel looked put together, and prepared, and successful, and he was going to get a job, even if it meant being honest, and uncomfortable.

The first interview was at a local tailor shop in downtown Williamsburg, which was right up Kurt's alley since he was a fashion design major and had been sewing since his dad got him his first machine in 7th grade. He was hoping for that job but just in case he also applied to work at a local theatre company needing someone to organize and run their ticket booth. He had never really wanted to return to the theatre scene, after saying goodbye to it a long time ago, when he found that his talents would never be appreciated but thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to work at one and appreciated the pay.

He arrived at the tailor shop early and waited for the owner to meet him. The owner was an older man, who looked to be of Asian descent, he had arrived, and Kurt could tell he was pleasantly surprised at how well he was dressed. He sat down across from the owner in a small sitting area at the back of the shop and could tell that the owner had plenty of questions for him as he raised an eyebrow as he looked over Kurt's resume and application. Kurt took a deep breath.

"So, would you like to tell me about yourself?" Kurt was relieved that the first couple of questions were easy and simple, and he made sure to include the fact that he has experience in seamstress work and enjoys doing it. The owner seemed to be rather impressed but hesitant, and then asked, "Kurt, I'm happy you are passionate about this line of work. I would love to hire you, but you do have a couple of misdemeanor offenses on your record. Would you like to explain those charges to me?" Kurt was so nervous and hated to talk about his mistakes but did so hoping it would maybe go better than he was expecting. "Um, yeah. So last year, I made a handful of really bad choices and had gotten into the wrong crowd. As I'm sure you can see on my record, I have 4 class 1 misdemeanors, and 1 class 2 misdemeanor. I had a really rough time with drugs and alcohol, and during that time period essentially stopped caring. But with that being said, I did end up graduating high school, and I worked hard to clean myself up so I could attend classes at CBU. I want to get a degree and better myself, and I just hope that my record doesn't ruin that chance."

The owner looked at Kurt thoughtfully, and told Kurt he'd get back to him. Kurt thanked him for his time and left. As soon as he walked out of the tailors the theatre called him. "Hello?" "Hi Kurt, I'm just calling to inform you that we will actually like to cancel your interview today." Kurt blinked, trying to not become instantly upset, "Can I ask why?" "Yeah, its just that we reviewed your application and liked it initially but upon further research have decided that you will not be well suited for the position. I hope you have a good day" and just like that, the call was over. Kurt sat down on a nearby street bench and couldn't help but rest is head in his hands. It was 11am on a Wednesday and all Kurt wanted to do was drink himself to sleep. Yes, yes, yes, he had been stupid. He was a criminal, and a dumbass but that doesn't have to define him and his entire future. Why the hell was even trying. He couldn't help but be angry at himself, as he walked the hour or so back to campus. He got back to campus, and went to lay down, not even bothering to go to his afternoon classes. He felt the reality of his bad decisions sweeping in and it reminded him of those moments, leading up to his first drink.

It was the day after his father had been admitted to the hospital. His father was in a coma, and he was heartbroken. The Glee club was trying to comfort him, but he knew that the comfort wouldn't really help, and he had no God to turn to, having given up on religion when his mother died. He was a mess, with nothing to believe in and no one by his side, and no one to depend on but himself. And he knew he was never going to be enough for himself or anyone else.

The years of harassment and bullying were hitting their peak right around the time his father had had his heartache. Kurt hadn't been able to tell anyone out of fear, but he had been sexual assaulted by David Karofsky, the bully football player that had been slamming him into lockers since his freshman year. Karofsky, about two weeks before his dad's hospitalization, had dragged Kurt into the locker rooms between classes. Kurt figured that he was finally going to get beaten bad enough for someone to notice, and therefore decided to ask, just ask. "What the hell is your problem David? You know, I don't mind putting up with your shit in front of your friends, because I know it's what jocks 'do', but really? Dragging me into the boy's locker room so you can beat me, alone, in the middle of the day?! Like what the hell?!" and suddenly, David rushed towards him, and took his face tightly and kissed him. The kiss was forceful, and Kurt had never felt so scared, because he expected the shoving, and the bruises, but he never expected to be kissed.

David, as soon as he did it, started crying, and turned away from Kurt. Kurt couldn't help but start crying too, and wanted to run, but he wasn't sure that was the best idea right now. He sat on one of the metal benches and just listened to David sob, shaking sobs. Kurt was so angry, and so scared, and so sad and he felt like throwing up. He knew David had kissed him, because this entire time he had been shoving Kurt into lockers, and dumping slushies on him, he was actually trying to hide his own sexuality. He was trying to hide the fact that he was gay, and Kurt guessed that him being out and proud had proven too much for David. Kurt was angry, but still couldn't help but feel so sad for David, because no one should live with shame, and no one should feel that way. Little did Kurt know; he would later think back to that thought with his own shame in the months to come.

David, once he had finally stopped crying, looked at Kurt, with a chilled gaze and said quietly and calmly "Kurt, I fucking swear to God, if you tell anyone about this, I'll fucking kill you. I will." And just like that David was gone, and Kurt was still sitting on the metal bench, and still crying, not even caring enough to wipe away the tears that were now drenching his shirt.

After that he had lived quiet, and reserved, and he was less proud and did everything he could to avoid David. His father the night before his heartache had asked him if he was okay because he seemed so quiet lately, and Kurt had said that he was "fine". Which wasn't a lie, he was fine when his father asked him that question, but every night Kurt cried himself to sleep. When his father had his heartache, and he found himself sitting in his hospital room, alone, and overwhelmed by the fact that he had been violated, his life threatened, and now his dad may or may not be taken away from him too, he couldn't handle it all. He left the hospital every night around 11pm and returned at 9 am as soon as visiting hours were open. And in between the hours of 11pm and 9am, Kurt couldn't sleep, he could barely eat, but he was able to drown out the anxiety, and stress, and sadness, and loss with a glass on gin. And by the time his father woke up from his coma, it had been too late, Kurt was already gone, and had never really returned since then.