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Dear Diary,
Some mornings, I just can't get out of bed. I physically can't.
I don't know whether it's because I just can't face the world, or because I don't want people either pitying me, or just not knowing a thing and not understanding. Hell, sometimes people who know don't understand. You can't understand unless it has happened to you. There is no way to compare it to anything in the world.
Or is my inability to get up, get dressed, open the curtains, put the light on, make the coffee…due to my just not seeing the point in anything, without him.
"You filthy hypocrite!"
Kurt pushed his brother frustratedly in the chest. "After everything you said to me yesterday-!"
"Come on, Kurt, it's not like that!" Finn tried to reason with him.
"After all that "You're wasting your time" and "There's no point" and "You're stupid"-here you are, telling me you're in love with a first-class woman!"
"I didn't say in love! I'm not like you," He did a cruel impression of swooning, back of his hand pressed to his forehead. "I just said…I…kinda like her,"
Kurt actually slapped a hand to his face. "Finn! How could you?"
"Now who's the hypocrite!" Finn felt anger brewing, and spilling out. "Let's face it, Kurt: Miss Rachel Berry and I actually had a really nice chat, and she actually asked me if I'd like to meet up with her again-and what happened to your Mr Anderson? You dropped glasses all over his shoes, then went away! You don't even know his first name-!"
Finn stopped himself, seeing his brother's face and realising he'd gone too far. Kurt looked shocked, wounded.
"Oh, Kurt, I didn't mean-" he started quickly.
"Yes you did," Kurt snapped, rage igniting those ocean-like eyes. "You just came here to rub it in my face, didn't you? How could you be so-?"
"No! Kurt, listen. I wasn't thinking…"
"Oh really?" Kurt retorted, half furious, half deeply hurt.
There was a long silence. The clock ticked in the background, and there was the distant rumble of engines. The floor rocked gently beneath them. They were well into the Atlantic ocean now, going at an impressive speed. Rumours circulated that they were on their way to setting a new record. Well, what couldn't the Titanic do? For such a huge ship, the speed was phenomenal.
"We're a right pair," Kurt muttered. His tone had calmed down now, breathing level.
"You can say that again,"
"We're a right pair," Kurt smiled weakly. "Look, Finn, I'm really sorry,"
"Me too," Finn shrugged guiltily. "I'm sorry for saying that. I know…you're having a bad time over this…"
Kurt sniffed-obviously, that was an understatement.
"Hey-you never know, right?"
But they both knew he was just being kind.
"…Don't let it get you down, buddy," Finn patted him on the shoulder.
"…Okay," Kurt said in a small voice, putting his hand over Finn's and squeezing it.
"…so that's the story of my life so far. My move from the USA to England, my thorough yet incredibly fast development and training in every area of the arts, and now my plans for my hopefully successful move to New York in order to pursue a career on stage!" Rachel smiled prettily, like she'd learned exactly how to smile the best she could, crossing one leg over the other.
"Wow," was all an awestruck Finn could manage. He gaped at her, mouth hanging wide open. He wasn't surprised they'd passed Ireland early this morning-because he'd just become the luckiest ex-coalminer in the world.
He just couldn't believe it. Here he was, sat in a first-class lounge during his lunch break, with an incredibly attractive, clever and interesting woman who seemed to like him! He'd paid a younger lad to do the last twenty minutes of his shift so he could put on his best shirt and even borrowed one of Kurt's handkerchiefs to clean up his face. Well, when he said borrowed…but he'd left a little bit on his cheeks, just in case she, you know, wanted to wipe it again…what was he thinking?
He hadn't opened his mouth yet-and anyway, he was fascinated by Rachel Berry and her funny, if loud and slightly show-offy, life story. And he wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgeways…but it was probably best he didn't say anything, in case he looked stupid, or said something dumb. Because he'd never wanted to mess something up less in his life.
He loved her hair…the way it shone in the light, and the way it was so straight and brunette, and…just so nice. Everything about her was nice. Yes, she could talk for America…but what she said was always just sort of…nice.
Finn hadn't had much schooling, it wasn't his fault.
"So why don't you tell me about you?"
Finn almost choked on the shortbread he was eating. "Huh?" he managed.
"Well…I'd like to know all about you!" There was that smile again, the one he couldn't get out of his mind…
She was looking at him expectantly, eyes wide, as if she was really interested in what he had to say. That felt…nice. Actually…quite nice.
"Well…urm…I…work with coal…"
"Yes?" Rachel smiled politely.
"And I…like coal…"
"Yes, it's very…A very good industry,"
God, why couldn't he think of anything to say?
He looked at her, the way one leg was crossed over the other under her today red dress, her hands rested elegantly on the knee. "Hey, you sit like my brother!"
Rachel looked at him.
Oh shit.
"Urm-no-urm-I mean-" he hurried, trying desperately to come up with an excuse.
"Oh no, it doesn't matter! Don't worry," she said politely-though she was evidently a bit weirded out. "You're obviously just a little nervous, around a…different…sort of company," She gestured around to the upper class passengers around them; some of them looking at them a little weirdly. Obviously, a woman like Rachel sitting with a reasonably low member of the crew wasn't the done thing. But she didn't seem to care.
"Urm…yeah…that's what it is…"
"Well, don't worry. You shouldn't be uncomfortable with who you are," she smiled. "So anyway, tell me about your brother?"
"Oh! Uh, he's actually on here! I mean, the ship. You know. Working, like me. Only, not like me. He's a waiter. You know-in the restaurant…I'm sorry, what's funny?"
To his surprise, Rachel was quietly laughing behind her hand. "Awwh, you're so sweet!" She squeezed him on the knee.
All the blood in his body rushed to his head.
"No-I'm sorry," she apologised. "That was rude of me…it's just…I love your funny way of talking! Like you're so shy! It's really sweet,"
Oh. That was good, right?
"Oh. Great," Finn tried a charming, sophisticated smile. He was sure the little giggle she gave was a good sign. "So…" he started, keen to move on. "What's your family like?"
"Oh-I have my dads," she smiled.
"Are they…" Finn asked awkwardly. "You know…?"
"Yeah, they've been together twenty-five years,"
"Oh-cool. I mean-I've absolutely nothing against-" he added quickly.
"Oh good," Rachel noticeably looked slightly relieved, and actually leaned further toward him.
"Actually, my brother is gay,"
"Oh!" Rachel looked pleasantly surprised. "The waiter one? Well, if he sits like this…Hey, maybe we should set him up with my friend Blaine!"
"Oh?…I mean, yeah! Yeah!" Finn felt a little weird having this conversation about his little brother, but was prepared to talk about anything with Rachel. "That'd sure stop him moping over this guy…"
Rachel nodded understandingly. "Blaine's the same. He's been totally moping around all day over some guy…he won't even tell me who he is, but it's like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders…love sickness doesn't even cover it!"
Finn laughed. "Hey, they would totally get on…Haha…Kurt Hummel is quite the drama queen…" he grinned, rolling his eyes as he took another bite of shortbread. God, this stuff was good…
"Yeah…so's Blaine Anderson," Rachel giggled.
Once again, the mouthful of shortbread almost went down the wrong way as Finn nearly choked. "Mr Anderson…oh Finn, I think I'm in love with him!"
As he coughed, he wondered…no, too much of a coincidence…Anderson? Anderson? Could it be…
"You okay?" Rachel asked, worriedly, offering him a yellow spotted handkerchief.
Finn took a minute to recover, before asking questions in a way he'd never dreamed of talking to a first-class passenger. "Your Blaine-*cough* Blaine Anderson-does he have golden eyes?"
Rachel blinked. "Urm…they're hazel…but I guess…?"
Finn almost laughed. "Oh my God! I think I know who Blaine Anderson's mystery man is!"
A second…then it clicked! "Oh my goodness!" Rachel squealed, white-gloved hands going to her mouth, covering it. "Did they meet last night at the party thing?"
"They must have!" Finn couldn't believe it. "What are the chances, hey?…"
"Hmm…" She became quiet for a second…then-a spark. "Hmm!"
Suddenly-Rachel's whole face changed. In her deep (and, Finn noticed, very beautiful) brown eyes-there was a sudden surge of…plotting.
"Uh oh," said Finn instinctively. He'd always been told it was dangerous when women got ideas…
"This is perfect," Abruptly, there was a change in Rachel's whole manner. It became business-like, determined. She actually got up and started pacing like a military commander. "Alright, so your brother and my friend, if we are correct, are sick with love for each other…Kurt, wasn't it? The waiter…a little controversial, but look at us!" she grinned.
"Wait-" Finn held a hand up, heart beating hard. "Did you say…us?"
But Rachel was continuing. "So…we end their suffering!"
Finn paused. "What do you…?"
Rachel's eyes were shining. "We make sure they meet again!"
"…Oh! You mean, like…we set them up?"
"Yeah!" She beamed delightedly.
"Uh…" Wow, this girl worked fast…that was hot…but Finn wasn't terribly sure about setting his brother up…Kurt was tough, but pretty delicate, and what if they had the wrong guy?
But on the other hand…it could end Kurt's misery…and would probably mean spending a lot of time with Rachel…
What the hell? It was a win-win.
"Yeah, okay," he shrugged, like it was no big deal. But it was worth everything to see the elated, excited, joyful look in Rachel's eyes….
"Yay!" she squealed-before immediately grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room.
Finn's felt…like he was flying. As Rachel pulled him along behind her, and people in the halls stared and looked shocked or raised their eyebrows at them, a first-class woman with a boy covered in coal…Finn felt nothing but the small, gloved hand around his…The whole ship could have disappeared under the sea, and he wouldn't have noticed. This was…amazing.
"Right, here's the plan," Rachel's business-like tone was back as she towed him up flights of stairs, up the many layers of the vast ship, towards the top deck. She began to tell him all about how she schemed to bring Kurt and Blaine together…
Little did they know what was already happening above them…
Blaine had spent the day consciously looking for his beautiful stranger. He'd searched all over the ship, through libraries, lounges, corridors, everywhere…but he was nowhere to be found. He'd gone back to the room where they'd met last night…he still couldn't walk past the spot, which still had a faint champagne stain, without a tremor rushing through his heart…He had to find him. Just to quell the pain in his aching heart, he had to see him one more time…but as he looked everywhere, all over this seemingly endless ship…as he climbed up onto the deck, he was staring to feel like it was hopeless…
Ashe came out into the open air, the strong, icy wind knifed his cheek, tainted with salty sea spray. It was so freezing and blowy, Blaine almost turned around to go back inside…
And that's when he saw him.
Like a magical mirage, there he was. It was unmistakably him, Blaine knew, even though he had his back to him. His shiny brunette hair blew in the wind as he leaned over the side of the ship, looking out to the horizon. He was still wearing his waiters' uniform, but over the top was a simple red coat, which blew out behind him.
Blaine's legs went so weak, and his head so light he almost fainted. But he composed himself as much as he could-difficult due to his heart stopping. He couldn't believe it…
He had to talk to him.
Swallowing his nerves, and trying to ignore all shy, scared feelings, he cautiously approached the boy who'd already left a deep mark on his heart.
Finally, he was stood beside him. Taking a deep breath-Blaine spoke.
"Hello,"
The boy jumped a mile. He turned quickly to Blaine, his lovely face frightened. "Oh!" he squeaked, even more scared as their eyes met. "Good-Good afternoon, sir!" he stammered. "May I…can I help you?"
Blaine was just as scared as he was, but tried not to show it. He wondered if the stranger had any idea what he was doing to him.
"W-what's your name?" Blaine asked, before he could stop himself.
The boy looked taken aback, shocked, eyes widening. Blaine kicked himself for being so stupid. But the boy managed to stammer and answer. "It's…Kurt. Kurt Hummel, sir,"
Kurt Hummel.
"Kurt…" Blaine tried. It tasted sweet… "Nice to meet you, Kurt," He held out a hand to him. Kurt looked even more abashed, face growing paler.
"Oh!" he squeaked. But, after a miniature paused, where Blaine nearly lowered his hand-he extended a small, perfect, porcelain hand, and shakily shook Blaine's. It felt soft and cool-and sent shivers down Blaine's spine, as their skin touched for the first time. "N-nice to meet you too, Mr Anderson, sir,"
There was electricity. Blaine did not want to let go, to break the circuit…but he had to, reluctantly dropping the hand. Strangely…Kurt seemed reluctant too, looking down at the hand he had just held. Then, quickly, he turned back to looking out to sea, hands grasping the railings tight. As if he was terrified of looking at Blaine too long.
"So…do you come up here often?"
What a stupid question. Blaine inwardly beat himself up. But he had to keep the conversation going, and Kurt seemed only to speak when spoken to.
"Urm…as often as I can, sir…it's such a beautiful view,"
"Yes, it is," Blaine agreed. It was. There was a point in the distance where you couldn't see where the sea ended and the endless sky began. Like the world had no start or end; it went on forever. There was a hint of afternoon sun tinting the waves, so the white, foamy caps shone.
"Sometimes…" Kurt looked out into the ocean. "Sometimes…I just wish I had wings, so I could fly away, right into that horizon…" he sighed…then looked shocked and terrified again. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir!" he gabbled, blushing fiercely. He looked even more like a china doll now. Blaine heart glowed.
"No, no…there's nothing wrong with dreaming…"
Of it's own accord, without Blaine telling it to do so-Blaine's hand reached out-and covered Kurt's one that was grasping the railings.
Kurt audibly gasped, and jumped, staring down at the hands like they did not belong to them-but…he did not pull away.
Blaine's pulse quickened again. "Where would you fly to?" he asked breathlessly.
"Oh…to New York," Kurt's blush deepened, making him even more beautiful…the way his hair blew in the wind…it was all Blaine could do not to kiss him…
"What will you do in New York?" he asked gently.
"I-I'm going to be an actor…I would love to make it all the way to Broadway…" He sighed. "Silly, really,"
"No, not at all," Blaine said quickly, smiling. "Amazing,"
"Really?" Kurt turned to him, eyes shining.
"Yes," Blaine smiled. "Absolutely…"
There was silence for a while.
Blaine took another deep breath, trying to work up the nerve. He looked at the beautiful boy he was stood with; no artist could have painted a more angelic face. And there was something so innocent and pure about him…Blaine found himself falling in love all over again…
Now or never.
"Kurt?" he asked, with a nervous cough. "I…I was wondering if…if you'd like to…"
"Kurt? Kurt, where are you, lad?"
A booming voice came from inside the ship. Kurt seemed to zap back to his senses, looking at Blaine like a deer in the headlamps.
"I have to go. Goodbye sir!"
He ran off, so fast, hand slipping from under Blaine's, and sprinted toward the voice as if he was terrified.
"Kurt!" Blaine called after him. But he didn't look round, closing the door behind him with a bang. And he was gone.
Next chapter soon! Thank you so much for reading, please review, if you'd like to! They mean a lot :D :D PVG24601xxx
