Episode 2, Chapter 1:
Good morning, Upper East Siders! Gossip Girl here. Your one and only source in the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite. Top story on my homepage: Kurt Hummel. Everybody's favorite It-Boy has just returned from a mysterious absence.
I bet you're wondering what Gossip Girl is doing up so early. Truth is: I never went to bed. Why waste precious time dreaming when waking life is so much better? Is there really anything better than a lazy Sunday? Reading the paper in bed, sipping coffee, scrambling an egg or two. Yeah, right. We Upper East Siders don't do lazy: Breakfast is brunch and it comes with champagne, a dress code and a hundred of our closest friends... and enemies. Puck's dad is hosting the annual brunch for his foundation. Everyone is invited. Well, not everyone.
"Blaine, you asked me ten minutes ago, and I haven't even moved yet," Rachel sighed pulling the blankets tighter around her.
"I'm sorry I just—after last night I want to make sure that you're doing okay."
"I'm as happy and healthy as a girl can be. Thankfully you had my back. I was stupid for trusting him, and that was my fault. I won't get myself in that situation again. That's it."
"I should have gotten to you sooner," he sighed.
"No, you were great! If I had a date, I never would have left, especially when I'm the girl-who-called-wolf when it comes to 'emergencies.' I won't use that word again unless it matters. Anyway, how was your date?"
"Honestly, it was great..." Blaine remembered happily. Rachel reached over to give him a hug. Blaine went a little too far in the squeezing.
"If you pop a lung and I can't sing anymore, I'll kill you!" she cried out.
"Next time don't start things that will get you crushed," he smiled moving just enough.
"Kurt was really nice, and it seemed like he likes you."
"I was such an idiot!" he hit his head on the pillow. "Rachel, I told him everything. I mean why can't I keep my mouth shut?"
"Maybe he'll think it was cute. You get flustered all the time so it could be... cute? I mean you didn't tell him your blood type," she laughed. Blaine sunk in deeper.
"I told him he was beautiful, and I had crush on him for forever, and I thought about him daily. I mean he has to think I'm a stalker! I've blown it! He's probably getting a restraining order. I'm worse than the paparazzi. I'll be on the no-fly list by Monday!" he pouted squeezing the pillow.
"I think it means he likes you," Finn told his brother. Kurt had gone straight to him the morning after to get his advice, even though Finn knew nothing about relationships.
"Well yeah he likes me! He practically told me he loved me. I didn't even know his name until yesterday," Kurt bit his nails nervously.
"I'm sure he wasn't that bad. You said you think he's cute, right?"
"He's the cutest. He's smart and funny and perfect except he might be…I don't know."
"Give him another shot. You seem to like him. I'm sure he was just nervous and, really Kurt, he wouldn't be the first secret admirer you've had." When Finn put it that way, it wasn't so bad. He would be crazy to not go on another date with him just because he got a red flush when he was put on the spot and in close quarters with him. It was pretty adorable to think he'd been crushing on him for a while, but didn't have the nerve to say anything to him until now. Even if it didn't go anywhere, he was curious where it could go.
Quinn awoke early the next day, not at peace with anything that happened the night before. Normally if she got a glance of herself in the mirror in the morning she felt like a princess, particularly Cinderella, but she wasn't in the mood. The only positive thing about today was Mr. Puckerman's brunch for his foundation at 2 o'clock. But also the negative was that it would be at the hotel Kurt was staying at.
"I swear if he even thinks of showing his face, I will ruin him," she said tying up her robe. Downstairs Brittany and Santana were dressed in casual clothes ready to prepare for the brunch, hair and all, at Quinn's. "Did you see my mom?"
"No, but it looks like she left something for you," Brittany pointed to the dress hung on the wall. The note attached to her mother's style choice for that afternoon said she'd be gone for the next few days.
"She left for Paris without me, and without saying goodbye, figures. Girls, let's get ready! I need a massage and definitely a pedicure to make me feel better about last night."
"Sam or Kurt?" Brittany asked.
"What about Sam?! No, we're doing—amazing! Speaking of which I should call him," she said.
"So, Kurt is the one you're annoyed at because he crashed the party?"
"That and so much more."
When Sam and Puck were younger, they had platonic sleepovers. As they got older and Puck got hornier, there was always a girl or two in the room too. Sam ignored them usually when they snuck under the covers. He usually hid in the bathroom or called room service in the living room space or ordered a movie. Sam shot up when the phone rang.
"Hello?" he said using a deeper voice.
"It's Quinn. Is that supposed to be an impression of someone? Because you know I only understand those when we're in person. Anyway, are you getting ready for today?"
"What's today again?"
"The brunch Sam!" she lost her temper for a split second that Sam was too exhausted to notice. "You'll pick me up before, right?"
"Yeah, of course I'm getting a ride with Puck. I'll see you later." Quinn wanted to object, but Sam had already hung up. "Puck!"
"Dude, be quiet!" he yelled annoyed at being woken up and trying hard not to fully awaken just yet.
"You're late," Sam said glancing at his watch on the coffee table. Puck flipped in his bed. Sam heard that movement and the rearrangement of the girls on his bed.
"For what?" Puck asked honestly.
"Your dad's, um, foundation brunch thing."
"Shit!" Puck flung himself awake.
In the car, driving to pick up Quinn, Sam finally commented on Puck's nasty black eye and various bruises.
"That must have hurt."
"What do I look like, a prissy dope who can't take a punch? It didn't hurt half as much as it's going to hurt that Blaine kid."
"From what I heard you got a little too touchy with that guy's sister, you must have known there was a chance he'd go for it. He must take boxing classes to get those jabs in."
"I really doubt that puny spaz takes boxing. I'd imagine him joining a spin class before I'd believe that."
Rachel dressed her brother to make sure he would get a second date. It was the most important thing she could do for him so he looked irresistible. A Saks Fifth Avenue Collection blue Modern-fit Plaid Sportshirt, Bally Patent B-Buckle Belt, Allen Edmonds shoes, and Topman Cobalt Blue Ultra Skinny Suit Jacket sealed the deal. [Betty Who]
"Is there anything I can do? Anyone I could get to talk to you after…"
"How about I just tag along?" Rachel said. "I have some business in the city."
"Yeah sure, come along," he said opening the door wider so she could follow him out.
Sam still wasn't over Kurt. He needed to really speak to him so he did something he knew would get him in trouble if Quinn found out.
"This is the Palace Hotel," the female voice on the other end of the phone said.
"Hi, uh, this is Sam. I'm visiting my friend Noah in the Puckerman suite and I was wondering if you could tell me what room Kurt Hummel is staying in?"
Kurt called Quinn for what felt like the fortieth time as he walked from the rehab center to his hotel. It was a long walk, but he needed the fresh air.
"Quinn, I've been calling you, and I guess you don't want to speak to me, but I think we should. It would be really good to get what we're thinking off our chests. Total honesty. I'm coming by. See you then." Kurt sighed, deciding he wouldn't call again. If she heard any of the messages, she'd be prepared for him, and if she'd deleted them without listening, then at least he'd have the element of surprise.
Unsurprisingly, Quinn had done the latter with every single call.
Kurt hadn't unpacked a single box or bag so nothing he would wear outside was anywhere to be found. He laughed drily when he found a box filled with his blue socks. This is ridiculous, he thought.
"Having troubles sweetie?" Carole came in.
"Yes! How is it possible that none of the clothes I actually wear are in any of these boxes? My Donna Karen scarfs, Marc Polo shirts, and Italian shoes… I mean the list is endless!"
"I had the movers pack everything. They must be here somewhere."
"Mom, please don't tell me you entrusted my personal belongings to movers who don't know Burberry from a cheap knockoff! Some people don't have respect for nice things and others know oh-so-well what these things are worth. Who knows if they kept some things for themselves!"
"I really doubt that, Kurt."
"I'm going to have to go shopping. Can we get someone we trust to hang up all this stuff, and not the hotel maids!"
"I'll help you put these things away," she said warmly. Kurt hugged her quick in thanks.
"I've got to go see Quinn." he sighed. Something stark white in a box caught his eye. He quickly dug for it. He squealed when he found the perfect vest to match the McQ Alexander Mcqueen Graphic Razor Blade-Print shirt he was wearing. [Betty Who] He kept them out and left for Quinn's.
Seconds behind Kurt, who just hoped in a taxi, Blaine was walking up the street and steering straight to the concierge desk, which probably already had enough of him. He took their advice to sit to the side quietly waiting for Kurt to come back. Blaine was a firm believer that luck was just made of good omens. Right now, he had not been the luckiest, but he held onto the hope the bad stuff would pass, and he could have his chance.
Sam clearly thought the same way as he went to sit next to him. Suddenly there was a line of men wanting to see Kurt. Blaine didn't feel so special. Carole finally appeared as she descended the elevator.
"Well, well, if it isn't Kurt's new friend—Blaine, if I remember correctly?"
"Yes ma'am, it's nice to see you again."
"A pleasure! Well I guess I'll see both of you boys another time…goodbye."
She left with a disarming glance between the boys that they then gave to each other as they sized up their competition because clearly, they were.
Kurt got out of the elevator at the Fabray apartment suite taking off his sunglasses as he entered the foyer. No one was there to greet him, yet.
"I don't recall inviting you," she said from on the stairs scantily clad in a white gown.
"I called, but you didn't pick up. I thought maybe we could hang out like we used to before we get ready for the—"
"There's nothing I want to talk to you about."
"Really Quinn? I'm tired of this passive aggressive bull. Just come out and say it!"
The blonde was shocked that he was the one who felt hurt by all of this. It made her fuse spark, and while she had no plan of ever engaging in conversation with him, she wanted to see what he'd come up with to explain his actions with her boyfriend.
"'Come out' well that's just rich considering that's almost what you had Sam do after you had your hands all over him! He told me about what you two did! How could you do that and lie like everything was just fine? I'm the one who's holding a grudge, yes, but I have reason to be! What kind of friend! —I was there when you came out! It didn't matter how many people guessed before because once you said it, you still needed a friend. It was me. I was your friend so excuse me if I don't believe I can forgive you after something like that."
"I'm so sorry," Kurt started crying.
"Don't, Kurt don't. Tears mean nothing. Go home and leave me out of it," she turned.
Kurt's face darkened as she left him completely speechless. He had so much to say, but none of it would make it right between them. There wasn't anything he could do to take it back.
Kurt's visit was short and apparently not very sweet, but you know what is? Revenge. We hear it's best served cold. Who's hungry?
Quinn hated moping, but she couldn't help it. She lounged on the couch before she heard her elevator ring announcing another unwelcome guest—unless it was Sam.
All hopes are dashed when she sees the small girl Berry with the big nose, "Hi Rachel, what are you doing here?" she says pleasantly faking a smile.
"I just wanted to, um, talk."
"About the party right? And if Puck said anything terrible about you, you're in luck because he hasn't. He's been mum. He's on a crusade against your brother though so tell him to look out…Anything else?"
"No thank you, you told me everything I need to know," she smiled prissily.
Quinn didn't like it, but she could use another handmaid, "We're still preparing for the brunch. We could use you." Rachel was only too happy to oblige.
Leaving the two boys alone for so long would no doubt have gotten them talking, if they had anything that they were comfortable talking about. For example, Kurt was trouble. In a way like damaged goods or Estella from Dickens, he was hardened and confusing. When you thought you clearly had him, you didn't. He zigged when you expected him to zag. Sam knew this but was invested in the journey while Blaine was new to the club. Sam wanted to warn him away and loosen the competition, but Puck sauntered in with aviator glasses knowing exactly where he was headed.
"I'm going to knock your block off!" he came at Blaine causing a scene in the immediate area. Blaine was surprised but not afraid.
"I think I have better odds than you," he said getting into a boxer stance. Sam held his friend back before he did something stupid just before his father's big event.
"Oh really!" he pushed against Sam then thought for a second. "Hit the pavement-that means get the hell out of here. If you every come into my hotel again, I won't have you arrested, I'll have taken straight to me…and that is a threat," he backed up and adjusted his jacket.
~A.N. I love the style of these characters and I worked really hard to make sure I got the details right. What do you think?
