Ok, using tabs in Word didn't work. Oh well. Now we get into the good part - getting Dylan and David together! Also, I'll be introducing Arabian songs. These are tricky because some of the letters don't really have an English equivalent.
Since having a word like "2orbak" or "7aly" instant causes a brain fart to those who have a Latin alphabet, I replaced them with proper characters (i.e. not numbers). Note that if you want to pronounce " ħ" properly, it's a guttural "h" with a kind of hacking lilt. I do not speak, read, or write Arabic (but most of my coworkers do), so I probably shouldn't be giving lessons.
If you don't like my song choices, meh. My story, my songs. I haven't met anyone younger than me who doesn't know at least two or three non-American artist. Then again, 4 out of every 5 are Chaldean or Pacific Islanders.
Songs:
Orbak Nar, Ragheb Alama (Backstage Production, Lebanon), (Karofsky)
Rekindling the Fire
I still can't believe he gave me a keycard, Azimio thought as he got out of his Camry. Their plan worked - Janet had 'broken' into Karofsky's basement and put the pilfered coat in the box with the Nationals plaque, but almost got caught by Mr. K. She managed to get out and close the windows while he was in the room! "Damn she's good," he said as he tapped the intercom. There wasn't a reply, so he tapped the keycard and went down the stairs. He took one step from the last step and leaned back just in time to not be decapitated.
"DYLAN!" Z bellowed as he shoved his new friend.
"What the?" Dylan sputtered as he pulled off the Bluetooth headphones and saw a terrified Azimio. "Oh shit! I'm so sorry Z. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Fortunately. What the hell are you doing?
"I just haven't been able to sleep since the night Megan called in. I don't think having Karofsky run away after I hugged him helped..."
"Man, you two need to seriously put that behind you. Have you thought of just getting really drunk, or taking an Ambien?"
"Uh, no. I just can't sleep. I even took like, five melatonins. Nothing, just made be sloppy."
"Right..." Z replies while taking the sword from Dylan's hand. He presents the handle to him and points to the sheath. "Well, he came out to us, me and Janet. And he's apologized to most of the gleeks."
"Really? He actually said that he's gay?" Dylan was truly impressed. Maybe he was a better therapist than he thought.
"Yep. We talked about it in Japanese though, and no one paid attention. He's like a scared little kid now, but that's better than a douchy teenager."
"So, what'd you stop by for?"
"I wanted to review your vids before you make his 'present," Z said while folding his arms. "I want to make sure it's both worthy of him and not 'meh' from you."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence 'bro," Dylan smirks and pats his friend on the shoulder, leading him to the couch. "It's a DVD9, so before I actually burn it, take a preview," he says as he hands Azimio a tablet. After turning on the TV and clicking on his computer, the tablet has a bunch of controls on it.
The first chapter's of Dylan in physical therapy, kinda pedestrian. The second is his soccer team winning the Championship. Not bad dude. The third one is his performance at Nationals, tying with Vocal Adrenaline. The fourth one has clips from jROTC, West Point, and his short amount of time with Vocal Adrenaline. Man that Jessie kid looks like a jackass.
"Okay dude, you need something other than home movies. What else do you have?"
"Well Z," Dylan replies. "That depends on a few things..."
"You want me to sing and dance, don't you?"
"You got it, with Janet. You game?"
"... as long as you don't make me do 'Single Ladies' again, sure."
"I swear, no Beyonce. But, you are going to have to sing in Korean. You down with that?"
"Janet gets final approval on that."
"Deal."
They call up Janet, and they agree to ask Mr. Schue if he'll let them use stage under the maintenance staff's supervision. On the way there they discuss what the personal message should say, and whether or not Dylan should stay nearby after 'delivery' of the gifts. It's agreed he should and what should be said.
...
Monday. First day of vacation, and still no sleep. He's spend the last five days listening to the CD of Suzy's he imported into iTunes. He was stuck on one song, track 8, Orbak Nar, Next to you I'm on fire. From the words he did know, this was his song. And it made sense. The only time he enjoyed being asleep was when he and Dylan were talking. He endured the dreams of having the tables turned because it would offer a chance that Dylan would be there when he woke and fell back asleep. Now he still couldn't sleep, and it was killing him.
I was able to get by, barely, in Bible class at the mosque, I should be able to do this. He searched for lyrics, and when he found the one he thought was right, #FAIL!
Arabic Language Module for System Required.
Install? (Requires restart)
"Moron!" Karofsky yelled as he clicked 'Install.' "You'd best hurry the hell up!" As he waited he saved the page he was on, . How could I not have thought of that one? As the Mac restarted he went downstairs and made some more Chamomile tea, triple strong, and headed back up stairs. The microwave clock said 2:16, and it felt like it. There was almost no light outside.
"Ah, good," he said when he saw Finder had offered to open all the windows he had open before. He went through the translations he was offered, and found the one he was looking for. Something was wrong...
"Hey, this is just for each line, no repeats. Idiot!" He copied and pasted, side by side, and tried to piece them together. It wasn't working, it was still off. He hoped there was something on YouTube, like some of those idiots that thinks it's funny to make fun of people speaking "Engrish." He enjoyed commenting on those posts in pure Katagana, insulting them beyond being redeemed by any church. Or translation by a non-native speaker of Japanese. He found just two videos, and the first one had what he was looking for... well, lyrics at least.
"Hey, what the..?" he said a little louder than he intended to. "That's not quite right..." he trailed off as he paused the video to notice the reflection on the screen. He pulled down the headphones.
"Sorry dad. Just... well, I guess I shouldn't be mad. I'm the idiot that never bothered to pick up Arabic."
"Try to keep it down. Changing religions?"
"Uh, no dad, just trying to see if I can sing this without butchering it."
Paul might still be half asleep, but he was awake enough to be hit off guard. "Sing? Like, in front of other people? In public?"
"Kind of. Who knows, I might get an offer to cover for this guy," he replied jokingly, which both was not conveyed or received due to fatigue.
"Try and get some sleep. Here's a Valium if you need it," Paul tossed a blister-packaged pill to his son.
"Thanks dad, I'll try."
As Paul left and closed the door Karofsky quietly locked the door. He frantically copied and pasted text as quickly as he could, then began to align it. He looked at both translations, and began to figure out not only which one was more accurate, but filling in gaps each translator left. Eleef was good, but doesn't know English enough for context. Not that I have room to complain. After reviewing the previous six years in his mind, the song's right - being far away from Dylan was hell.
He got it, fixed the numbers-as-letters issue, and read through the lyrics about ten times. Once he thought he sounded better than a four year old with speech impediments, he looked to the bed. He had one more thought, and headed to 'another' website. He clicked on the section to bring up female videos and just stared. When his headphones almost crashed into the keyboard he jolted awake, not feeling different. He rubbed the back of his neck, took a gulp of tea, and shrugged. He clicked on both 'male' checkboxes and took a look. Just the thumbnails were enough to get a response from his body.
"Damn..." he whispered as he looked at the ones on this page. Most of these are like, really short. And the ones that aren't... most don't have anything I really want to look at. He changed websites and taped over his camera. He took the dive again and... Holy crap! Is this Nirvana? He found a feed he thought he could enjoy and waited. When his body didn't 'stand down' after three minutes he gave in and had some 'me time.' This time it worked. Well, who knew... other than everyone else? Oh yeah, I did. I just didn't want to believe it. He cleaned up, shut everything down, and went to sleep... for the first time in over a week.
...
Forty-five minutes... now Dylan thought as he finished the bottle of wine. Making three music videos with Janet and Azimio, three full weapon kata sets, a 15 kilometer run, and still wide awake at 3a.m. He finally looked up alcohol poisoning online, determined that an entire bottle of whiskey was out of the question, and settled on wine. To prevent a hangover he also drank about three liters of water. He set the bottle down and tried to walk/lumber to the bed, but failed and instead passed out on the floor.
"Shouldn't I be drunk?" Dylan thought as he stood up outside of a concert hall. He couldn't tell where until he saw posters of Ragheb Alama, Nancy Ajram, Haifa Wehba, Ehab Tawfiq, and Tamer Hosny. "Huh. I haven't dreamt of this before," Dylan shrugged and proceeded to walk into the stadium. He got four steps in before being tackled by six guards.
"No weapons in the stadium!"
"We don't care that you're American Air Force! You have to leave!"
Dylan managed to see that he was in Dress Blues and for some reason had a sidearm. What am I doing with a sidearm in a dream?
"I'm so sorry. I haven't worn one before, I was just dressing as the other officers. I'll empty the rounds and clips and hand them to you," Dylan said to the guards. This seemed to put them at some ease.
"I haven't forgotten that Mr. Alama was shot by a fan a few years ago," he said as he cautiously pulled the sidearm, dropped the clip, and handed it to one of the guards. "I am very sorry for forgetting this," he continues as he unchambers the gun, surprised that there's a round in there. He hands both to another guard. "I won't be doing this again. I haven't had the privilege of seeing him live," Dylan finishes as he unclips the holster and the two clip holsters, handing them to yet another guard.
"See that you don't forget again," a guard that doesn't have anything of Dylan's replies. He answers his phone and a look of shock takes a hold of his face. He nods and hangs up. "Our opening performer would like to meet you. Please follow me." He begins to walk to the stage as Dylan follows, thanking the guards for being properly vigilant.
They make a left turn at the stage and enter a short hallway. Dylan is ushered into a room at the end of the hallway on the left. He's surprised to see Karofsky there chatting away with Ragheb... but not speaking very well. He's gotten much better though... at least he knows more than a few dozen words.
"Mr. Alama, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Dylan says while extending his right hand. The singer shakes it and points at Karofsky.
"I'm going to let him open for me. He wants to sing a song for... to you," he replies, smiling proudly. "I'm very happy that you're brave enough to do this in front of such a large crowd."
"Wait, you're gonna... are you sure?" Dylan asks, knowing that even here it could end... not Disney-like.
Karofsky replies in very poor, unpracticed Arabic "I'm sure. I'm getting pretty comfortable with who I am, who we can be," he replies as he touches Dylan's face, fighting tears. "I need to do this, to show me that love and pain aren't connected that way."
Dylan's eyes instantly lock into Karofsky's, trying to pull what he's feeling out of them. There's no signs of deception, just confidence. There's a spark there, like before, Dylan thinks to himself. Meanwhile Ragheb looks as if he's just getting what's about to be done, and he looks... proud.
"You need to get to your seat," he says as he gently pushes Dylan out of the dressing room. As he carefully pushes Dylan in his seat he says "The stairs are there and there," pointing to the distant right of the stage, and the much closer left. "I just thought you should know," the singer says as he walks to the stairs on the left, smiling.
Why in the hell was Karofsky talking to Ragheb Alama? And how did his Arabic get so... more-than-Mosque-y?
I was talking to him because I needed his permission. You'll see.
"Oh, my, God," Dylan whispers as the concert starts. He can hear that people have come from all over not only the Middle East to see this, but Europe and Asia as well. "This has got to be the strangest dream I've ever had," he whispers again as the lights dim and the curtain's pulled, revealing Ragheb again.
"A new friend has asked to perform one of my songs not only for you, but for his love. Please welcome David Karofsky!" he smiles as Karofsky walks on stage. This is a dream, I have to remember. He's wearing a suit that's impossibly white with a metallic silver vest and a shiny black bowtie. He looks totally... well, hot! He hugs the host and gives a quick kiss on the cheek, then takes the microphone offered by Ragheb.
"Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I hope that the one I'm singing for is alright with all of you," he address the audience while fixing his gaze upon Dylan. "But it's a song that my heart's been trying to find for a long time. And I'm finally letting it sing now that I found it." With this the audience falls silent and nods in unison. The band begins playing the song, and before the first measure's finished Dylan knows what song this is: Orbak Nar, Next to you I'm on Fire... and Karofsky's Arabic now is dead-on native.
bitiggy ef baly w khayelek yatayar min 'ainiyah ennoum
wala bakhtar 'ala balek w hastana yagilik youm
enta 'orbak nar
enta ba'adak nar
gowa minni nar bitighily w mish beyaddy ekhtar
ya dawa' ħaly
enta 'orbak nar
enta ba'adak nar
gowa minni nar bitighily w mish biyaddy ekhtar
ya dawa' ħaly
bitiggy ef baly w khayelek yatayar min 'ainiyah ennoum
wala bakhtar 'ala balek w hastana yagilik youm
ol bahwak w bastanak w hastanak te'oolhali
enta 'orbak nar
enta ba'adak nar
gowa minni nar bitighily w mish beyaddy ekhtar
ya dawa' ħaly
Dylan is waved onstage by Karofsky and he complies. He's totally stunned.
'alby she'ar bilmasha'ar (ħas biki aħses gharib)
wenta gamby gowa 'alby (ħatta wenta ba'id 'arib)
mosh hasibak, zid lahibak, nar hawak bitaħlaly
enta 'orbak nar
enta ba'adak nar
gowa minni nar bitighily w mish biyeddy ekhtar
ya dawa' ħaly
Something's happening as Dylan is being serenaded. No one else seems to notice that there are two David Karofsky's on stage. To him it seems like an out-of-focus hologram. He's also hearing a light echo in his head.
dubti laken enta sakin (gowa rooħy men sinin)
enta sha'if enta 'aref (enta binisbali min)
mosh hasibak, zid lahibak, nar hawak bitaħlaly
enta 'orbak nar
enta ba'adak nar
enta 'orbak nar
enta ba'adak nar
gowa minni nar bitighily w mish beyaddy ekhtar
ya dawa' ħaly
bitiggy ef baly w khayelek yatayar min 'ainiyah ennoum
wala bakhtar 'ala balek w hastana yagilik youm
'ol bahwak w bastanak w hastanak te'oolhali
enta 'orbak nar
enta ba'adak nar
gowa minni nar bitighily w mish biyeddy ekhtar
ya dawa' ħaly
When the music ends Karofsky, no longer out of focus, offers his hand to Dylan and pulls him off of the stool. He places a hand on Dylan's face, slides it down his neck to his shoulders, and pulls him into a hug. He whispers "I love you, and we're together again" before pulling out of the hug enough to kiss Dylan. The audience is at first stunned silent and motionless, but after just a few seconds, and when the kiss ends, everyone's cheering. Karofsky walks Dylan back to the dressing room they met in earlier.
"Did you feel that?" Karofsky asks.
"Which part? There was a lot of emotion up there," Dylan replies, still breathless while his heart feels like a jet engine.
"When I became me again," he says as he squats in front of Dylan. "It's me, David."
Dylan carefully examines the young man in front of him. There's no more rage in those beautiful hazel eyes, which have taken on a beautiful green hue and tint, no more tension in his chiseled face, no more stress on the broad shoulders. This is indeed the man I would have fallen in love with... or did...
I am. I owe you so much, the reply comes as David disappears, tears in his eyes.
Grr! Stop doing that! As Dylan looks around and sees that he's still in the dressing room. He looks at an event flyer and sees that there are many artist performing that he likes, so he walks out of the dressing room and takes his seat again. For the rest of the concert, none of the songs sound as good as the first one...
...
Waking up smiling, David sits up and checks the clock. 8:45? That's it? he thinks as he considers going downstairs. He instead turns on his iPhone and curses not leaving it on. He pumps out some hand sanitizer and puts some on his face. The lock screen just came on so he unlocks it and sees that he has six messages: Three unknown numbers, Azimio, and Janet.
From the first unknown numbers:
- Dude, it's Artie. TY for apologizing. Whatever u're going thru, it seems to be passing.
- Artie again. Got your number from Janet, hope u don't mind.
From the second unknown number:
-Dude, Puck. I still think you're a douche, but u pwnd 2 it. U can start earning my respect. l8r
The third unknown number:
-Karofsky, it's Tina. I don't really trust u 2 not slush again, but thx 4 admitting u were wrng 2 l/c. ttyl, maybe.
Z - Dude, gave Puck ur #. Let me kno if it's not cool. c u tmrw.
J - Gave Brit & Atrie ur #. They seem over ur douche days. ttyl
Dave smiled at that. They weren't bad, and he was cool with those guys having his number. He entered all their numbers and used their FaceBook pages to add contact pictures. He turned on his Mac and made sure he still had clean clothes... he had enough. Gotta remember to do laundry. He fired a text to Azimio:
-Bro, finally slept. Sang to a full-crowd, kissed Dylan.
He wasn't expecting a reply, so he went and shaved, took a shower, and came back to get dressed. There was a message waiting when he got back.
-I know D :-P Have a great day. Janet says hi. ;)
Jackass. Oh well, gotta get the day started.
Ugh. Already? Just let me get another few minutes...
Dave was surprised. He didn't expect anyone to hear. "Who's that?"
Oh. Umm... arg. Morning sunshine...
Dylan?
... Yeah. This wasn't part of the plan... I guess that concert meant more to you, us, than I thought.
A number popped into Dave's head and without thinking he dialed it and hit call. He was treated to Disturbia as it rang through. The song almost ran through, which would be the last ring before voicemail...
"Mushi-mushi?"
He almost dropped the phone. This was Dylan! Not some dream, not a memory. The real THING! "Heya! Why do you sound so horrible?"
"Ugh. I haven't slept since, well, I got booted. When you ran off..."
"I'm really sorry about that. I Just -"
"Considering you serenaded me in front what, almost 35,000 people, I think you've more than made up for it."
"I meant it. All this time, I've just been getting... worse. Why didn't you -"
"Not that I don't love you and all, but can I get some time to wake up and shake off this wine headache?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry..."
"Nothing to be sorry about. I want to see you too. I'll have Z pick you up in an hour."
"Wait, what? How -"
"I'm not mad, well, not at you. See you in about an hour."
"Wait! Come here. I know that mom and dad'll -"
"Not time yet. I want to see you first," Dylan says as the line dies. As soon as Dave sees this he gets another message.
-It's Dyl. 3 u. WE need to talk first.
"He's so lucky I have an iPhone," he says as he shakes his head and gets dressed. He doesn't realize how, goofy he's acting until he gets downstairs. Paul and Mary look at him like he just snorted some crystal in front of them as he walks out the door and gets in his truck. Before he starts it up he fires three messages:
Mom&Dad → Going out to grab some non-food stuff, meet Jamio.
Janet → Does Dylan still like snakes and dragons?
Azimio → I hate you. Is blue still Dylan's favorite color?
With the messages fired off he heads off towards Dalton Academy. Not to find Kurt but because near the mall there they have an awesome gift shop called 'The Dragon's Treasure.' He plans on getting a pendant and a shirt. He's halfway there when he lets reality set in.
"Wait. What if he isn't really into me anymore? And what am I doing? Just over a week ago I was a queer-bashing self-hating gay. Now I'm going off to buy a boyfriend I had when I was ten presents? Am I crazy or something?" He gets another message, several actually, that he can read without going into each one. When he's at a train crossing, he checks them:
A - There WAS supposed 2b a plan. Guess that's shit now. Sry & YES
J - Yes & Yes. He has a lot of cuties here. I like あかね。
Mom - Be safe, and did you sleep well? You were singing all last night.
Dad - You have a great voice though. Get cheetos on the way back.
Dylan - Not insane, yes I'm alive, I'd like to be ur BF, and pls let me bathe.
Just as the last car zips by on the rails, he sets the phone down. When he gets to the mall he sees that the shop isn't open and won't be for 15 minutes. He doesn't know if he can wait until he sees the owner there. He slumps against the wall and pulls out his phone. He plugs in the headset and sets his new favorite song on repeat. The notifier had said there were 5 messages, but only sees two dots, so he begins to clear them out. There were four from Janet and one from Azimio:
A - Thought you might like this one! (Photo): it was Dylan without a shirt and just a towel. (saved)
J - LOL! You owe me for this! (4 Photos) Dylan asleep on his back (Saved). Dylan's ass (Saved). Dylan with a shower puff barely covering his manliness (Saved). Dylan dressed in tight jeans and an A-Shirt with a denim button-up (Saved). A baby snake that's an awesome grey with brown and darker-grey saddles (Saved)
J → Is that Akane?
He gets the response of 'yes' just as the door unlocks. He sees that it's only 5 till.
"C'mon in David. I'm not sure I want you in front of my store with the pictures you were looking at," she playfully says and leads him in.
"Sorry about that Agnes. I just got a lot of messages on the drive up. Do you have any royal blue shirts or dragon pendants?"
"I do," she leads him to the overhead wire with all the pendants. "I bet you want this one, don't you?" she unties a pewter pendant of a Chinese dragon holding a sphere made of tiger's eye.
"Nah, that one's too Goth. I'm looking for a Western-type dragon anyway," he says, completely oblivious to the fact he looks like he's about to explode from happiness.
"Spill it David Allen Karofsky! I've known you since you moved here and took the wrong bus six years ago!" she asks, only half playing.
"Well, umm... it's," he's not sure how to answer so he just looks through the pendants.
"Ok, who is she? Oh my God, it's not that Asian Goth girl from your school, is it?"
"...Um... no..." as he nervously unties the perfect pendant and lays it on the counter. "It's... um..." he blushes, then forces out "It's... a guy."
Her brow furrows as her eyes widen. She looks him up and down a few times, steps around the counter to get close to him, and when he thinks this elderly woman's gonna try to throw him out, she slaps him, and walks back behind the counter.
"I would've given you a discount if you'd told me earlier," she says as she takes the pendant, removes the price tag, and places it in a gift box. She hands it to him. "No charge."
"I can't really do that Agnes - "
"I insist. Do you have a picture of him?"
He pulls out his phone and prays she doesn't see any of the other pictures. He chooses the one of him in an A-shirt and denim button-up.
"Oh, that's Dylan. He's the only one I'll sell weapons to. Well, the good ones anyway," as she hands him back his phone. "I can see why he didn't bother with Trevor now."
He was gonna rummage through the shirts, but freezes. "Who's Trevor?"
"Oh, some guy that was trying to seduce Dylan. Dylan never really paid any attention to the guy. Good thing too," she says as she moves to the clothing corner, "because it turns out he was just trying to get in Dylan's pants to blame his VD on someone else other than his being a slut." She flips through a few shirts and tosses one to Dave. It's royal blue, has Chinese characters that say 'Great Wisdom and Great Knowledge are total strangers,' and has extra room in the shoulders.
"He'll need that with those back muscles of his. $5 please."
"Um, thanks Agnes," as he forks over a $10. "May I ask why you're practically giving stuff away?"
"Not that I didn't expect that from you, but he kept talking about eventually getting the right guy back. If I knew it was you I'd've kicked your ass for being a bully then tossed you to him," she says flatly as she folds the shirt and wraps it. "So, you have the 'serenade them in a dream' dream recently?"
"Wha-what? How'd you..."
"I've had three other kids come in here, and when they had that dream they came out within a month. That Blaine kid went too far though. Guys shouldn't paint their nails, unless they have a Queen friend." She hands him the wrapped shirt.
"Thanks Agnes. So, Blaine... he went Goth for awhile?"
"Yeah. Most non-jock, musical guys do, straight or not. Wanna see his hair bleached?" she mocks.
"Sure! Hey, something I know that Kurt doesn't!"
"Ok, prepare yourself," she warns as she grabs her iPad. "Set your faces to... WTF!" as she turns the tablet to Dave. He nearly crashes into the ring and gemstone display as he falls to the ground laughing.
"He... I mean... good GOD what was he thinking?" he laughs as he tries to roll at least to his hands and knees.
"He was over at the beauty supply shop that day before he came here. I've never had a customer spend so little time here," she says chuckling. She helps Dave up and says while leading him out "He's been talking about you for years. As long as you don't do something stupid, he'll take you. The real you, not like these boys that are gay with their boyfriends in private or away from other people at school, then totally in the closet when someone they know might be looking."
He nods, steps up to the door, then turns around. "Are the out kids happy? I mean, they're alone right?" he asks as she nods, then asks "I mean, what if... I can't play football anymore?" he says as he realizes he's wearing his Varsity Jacket.
"If the guys can't see how good a player they are, they deserve to lose. In more ways than one. Stop worrying, you'll go grey before it looks good on you!" she says as she opens the door and pushes him out.
That's strange... she didn't care that I was gay...
Most adults don't really care. Unless they're rich guys. Then they think we'll look at them as Sugar Daddies.
You really need to ask permission before doing that Dylan!
Since when? And we're heading to the Bean. Janet tells me we might run into Kurt there, but it's remote unless he's out with that Blaine kid.
Wait, here... what?
You're at the North Hills Mall, right? The Bean's just a few blocks away.
Okay... meet you there then...
Don't worry. Everything will be fine.
When Dave gets in his truck he looks across the street and sees Kurt's Escalade. He panics for a second, then just decided to wait them out. The rest of the group won't be here for at least twenty minutes, and how long can that couple really sit and talk anyway? He plugs in his iTrip and starts listening to the song he sang not even a day ago. He glances a few times to the parking lot across the street and begins to sing along. He becomes so involved with singing and the feeling from the experience (even thought it was just a dream) he almost jumps out of the truck when the window taps.
"Holy zombie Jesus!" Dave jumps as he sees Blaine looking at him as explorers most likely looked at tribes-people when first encountered.
"Karofsky, right?," he replies through the closed window and music. Dave opens the window and lowers the volume of the song.
"Dave, please. You're not gonna try to out me again are you pretty-boy?"
"No, of course not. I'm really sorry about that. I should have been more... tried to have been discreet about that," Blaine replied. He finally noticed that Dave was singing in Arabic to an Arabian song. "What is that that you were singing?"
Dave blushed. I totally forgot about that. He pulled his phone and showed it to Blaine. "I sang that last night, to apologize to someone important to me. I... kinda punched him when I honestly intended to caress him."
Blaine had a puzzled look on his face, both from the song and what Dave just said. "You did what?"
I have no idea what to do here? Dave thought to himself, trying to figure it out.
Invite him and see where it goes, Dylan replied, concerned about how Dave 'asked' that.
"Hey, do you and Kurt want to join us? I was gonna wait until you guys left. Ya know, so you wouldn't think I'm stalking or anything, but my friend says it's ok if you tagged along."
"But your phone's still playing music..." he replied, confused.
"I promise, I'm not going to hurt or insult either of you anymore. I could actually... use some help with, you know, being out," Dave more asked than said the second half of that.
"Uh, sure! I'll need to talk to Kurt about that though," he said as he looked across the street, trying to find Kurt. He still must be cleaning up. "It might be a little bit. Someone tripped on both their shoelaces and saggy pants and dumped their latte on Kurt, so he's trying to keep the stain from setting.
"I might be able to fix that. Could you watch my truck for a minute?" Dave asked as he motioned Blaine to step back so he could get out. He ran into the store he had left a few minutes earlier, and came out with some clothes. "Will these fit him decently enough for his taste?"
Taking the clothes and wincing at how NewAge-Retro they looked, he nodded. "Getting him to wear them will be a different story."
"If he can keep the clothes wet the stains won't set," Dave replied, not knowing how he knew that.
"Let's ask. And if you're buying I take a medium-drip, and Kurt likes grande latte mochas," Blaine says as he gets into the passenger seat. Dave just shrugs and turns the truck over, then parks next to Kurt's Escalade.
Meanwhile Kurt is furiously scrubbing the stubborn latte stains out of his new clothes Flipping moron! he thinks as he applies another layer of the OxyClean stick he keeps in his bag, a holdover from being slusheed on a near-daily basis at McKinley. Is it really that hard to tie your damn laces or use a belt properly? He hears the door opening and notices it's Blaine by the Brut cologne.
"Hey Blaine. I'm sorry it's taking so long, but I just can't get these stains to let up. It's like they went from food coloring to using fabric dyes!" he almost shouts as he takes the toothbrush and scrubs some more. He notices Blaine has something in his hands. "What's that?"
"These," he starts with his you're-not-going-to-like-this voice and moves to him, "are a 'present' from a new friend... well, acquaintance." He presents them to Kurt along with a thick dry cleaning bag. "They're not your style, but you can pre-treat the stains and keep them wet in the bag."
As the other Warbler takes them he looks at them as though he's being asked to wear something the bad guy in The Silence of the Lambs made from a college co-ed. "Dear God where did you get these? Some geriatric's yard sale?"
"Actually, they're from... Dave. He's starting to come out..."
"KAROFSKY? He's here?" Kurt screams as he ignores the echoes. "Is he stalking me even -"
" - He wants help coming out, and he's meeting someone here anyway. He was going to wait until we left," Blaine tries to calm his friend down as he ushers him into the handicapped stall. "Please change so we can salvage those Tim Hamilton's you just got, okay?" he asks with those damn puppy-dog eyes.
"... Fine. But if I even THINK he's eye-humping me or something, I'm scalding his beady eyes!" he spits out as he takes the clothes from Blaine and begins to change. Once done he's hmming and haaing he takes a step to the mirror and looks at himself.
"All cotton, that's good, and I like the blues and greens. And it's not tie-dye. It'll do," he says as he rubs OxyClean over all of the stains and gives them a final scrub, a rinse and wring, and tosses them into the bag Blaine still had. "This had better at least salvage my clothes, or I'm stealing your thunder next practice," Kurt smirks.
"Noted," as the boys leave to put the bag in Kurt's truck.
He actually looks kinda nice, Dave thinks as he sees Kurt in his new clothes arguing with Blaine. He sees Azimio's Camry pulling in as the other 'couple' drops the bag into their truck. They stop as they come face to face with Azimio.
We got this love, don't worry, came Dylan's near-instant reply. All Dave could do is watch and listen vicariously through his boyfriend. Potential boyfriend.
"Great! I transfer to a $4,000 a month private school and I still can't get away from you guys! Even a hour away! What, harassing me -" Kurt begins to rant.
"Not happening here," Janet says as she takes one of Kurt's hands and moves to the door of the Lima Bean. "If he tries anything, any of them... well, just Dave & Z, I'll rip their twig and berries from their tree!" Azimio winces at that, which Kurt smirks to.
"You really are a welcome addition to our outing Kurt. I want you and your boyfriend to meet the real David Karofsky," Dylan tells Kurt in French, though he has a puzzled look on his face.
Taken aback, Kurt has no real response at the ready. "How did you know I knew French? And he's not my boyfriend"
"To be honest, I don't know," Dylan replies, extending his hand. "I'm Dylan Howard, and up until a week or two ago Dave thought I was dead. And it's a shame. He's cute."
"Oh Gaga, were you two childhood friends or something?" Kurt asks impatiently. When he sees the look of pain on Dylan's face, the familiar look of loss he's seen on his face many times in the mirror, he relents. He also notices the scars on the young red-head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so rude." Then Kurt and Blaine have a flash of insight.
"Hey, weren't you in Vocal Adrenaline?" Blaine asks. "I'm positive I remember you cleaning our clocks at Sectionals last year."
"Now that you mention it, I think I saw you last year too," Kurt adds.
"Yeah, I was in VA last year, but I quit when Ms. Shelby didn't stop Jessie and Andrea from pelting Rachel with eggs. I mean, to me it's like spit-roasting a live suckling pig in the middle of a PETA rally," Dylan replies.
"That, was decent of you," Kurt replies, a little more at east. His stomach was still doing summersaults knowing he would be in the same room as his tormentors.
As the group enters the cafe they can see Dave sitting in a corner booth in the back, large enough for 8 people. He has his headphones on and seems to be oblivious to the outside world. The glee kids notice that he's singing, but only Dylan can make out what the song is. He absent-mindedly begins to hum along as he leads the group there. Sensing Kurt's rising distress he takes his hand and give a squeeze.
"If he tries anything, which he won't, I'll stop him. He's not going to hurt you anymore, and is truly ashamed about forcing that kiss on you," Dylan whispers to the slender singer.
"Wait, he told?" Kurt asks, his face flushing.
"Yeah. He doesn't know how to tell your dad without either getting beaten to death or putting him back in the hospital," Janet whispers as the other four put Dylan in front, followed by the Warblers, then the two straights in the group. When they get to their table Dave's still engrossed by the music and reading the lyrics in both Arabic and English.
I'm here sexy.
Dave's head shoots up and he freezes. No one in the group other than Kurt can make out the expression on his face. It's like being able to have a second chance with someone that you can't live without, like if it were me and my mom, Kurt thinks to himself. He honestly didn't believe this guy was capable of emotions other than being a jackass. He was wrong.
Dave slowly slides out of the booth and stands, not losing the lock on Dylan's eyes. He takes baby steps to his friend as if he's covered with some kind of rabid insect swarm, and slowly puts his hands on his shoulders. Feeling that this person is, in fact, solid, he pulls Dylan into a strong, warm hug, and begins to cry.
"You came back to me," he weakly exclaims, not trying to hide his tears.
"Of course I did! I just needed to wait until you were ready," Dylan replies, returning the hug as his eyes begin to water. "I kept my promise, no matter what some cemetery says."
"You're, you're really here, aren't you?" Dave asks as his face becomes soaked with tears.
"I'm finally back in your arms aren't I?" Dylan replies lovingly. "Let's sit down. We have a lot of ground from the past to patch up."
"Right," Dave says as he retakes his seat, pulling Dylan in by the hand. Dave, Dylan, Janet, and Azimio are against the wall, Kurt and Blaine opposite them. Blaine asks "May I?" as he points to the papers Dave was holding when he was waiting. Dave nods as Blaine takes the sheets of paper.
"This is pretty moving Kar... Dave. Were you planning to auditioning with this?" Blaine asks as Kurt reads.
"I actually already sung that, this morning," Dave replies as he places his joined hand on the table, smiling. He grabs a napkin with his free hand and wipes his tears away. "Do you two want to listen to the original version? You should be able to follow with that," as he points to the paper and then hands his phone to the Warbler.
"Yeah sure. That should break the tension a bit," Blaine says as he offers the microphone end to Kurt. As the two listen Kurt's eyes begin to water while Blaine's face becomes pained. Kurt looks to Blaine then Dave with an expression that says 'I can't believe what's happing.'
When I think of you, your image leaves me sleepless
But I never cross your mind, I'm waiting for the day that you...
Next to you I'm on fire
Far from you it's hell
Inside of me a fire is raging, and it's not up to me to choose
I need a remedy for this
Next to you I'm on fire
Far from you it's hell
Inside of me a fire is raging, and it's not up to me to choose
I need a remedy for this
When I think of you, your image leaves me sleepless
But I never cross your mind, and I'm waiting for the day to come
That you say "I love you, I wait for you, I'll wait for you"
Next to you I'm on fire
Far from you it's hell
Inside of me a fire is raging, and it's not up to me to choose
I need a remedy for this
Next to you I'm on fire
Far from you it's hell
Inside of me a fire is raging, and it's not up to me to choose
I need a remedy for this
My heart is feeling all sorts of things, and it's having strange feelings for you
You are beside me inside my heart, near or far, I'll never leave you
Your flames are growing, the fire of your love is consuming me
Next to you I'm on fire
Far from you it's hell
Inside of me a fire is raging, and it's not up to me to choose
I need a remedy for this
I'm consumed, but you've burned in my heart for so long
You see, you know who you are to me
Your flames are growing, the fire of your love is consuming me
Next to you I'm on fire...
Far from you it's hell
Next to you I'm on fire
Far from you it's hell
Inside of me a fire is raging, and it's not up to me to choose
I need a remedy for this
When I think of you, your image leaves me sleepless
But I never cross your mind, and I'm waiting for the day to come
That you say "I love you, I wait for you, I'll wait for you"
Next to you I'm on fire
Far from you it's hell
Inside of me a fire is raging, and it's not up to me to choose
I need a remedy for this
At the end of the song both Kurt and Blaine are crying, Blaine from how romantic the song is, Kurt from how it's causing him to both understand the pain that must have led to his being bullied and not wanting to feel any sympathy for Dave. The other four were just having idle side-chats while they gauged the reactions of the other two boys.
"So, uh, Dave, where did you sing this?" Kurt asks, expecting some fanciful answer like 'the shower' or 'quietly in my room.'
"I actually, serenaded Dylan with this in a dream last night. He's been helping me to become who I really am, not the inconsiderate douchebag that ran you out of school and away from your friends."
"And don't ask how Dylan was able to help," Azimio quickly interjected. "It involves some kind of Borg-Buffy-Telepathy-Dreamwalking crap."
Stunned, Kurt takes a sip of his latte, takes a deep breath, then asks "Maybe you should tell me your life story? Because I'm totally lost here. The last time I saw you were trying to convince both my dad and Coach Sylvester that I was a liar. And now you have a boyfriend, you're totally calm, and you even bought me clothes. Which... Thank you."
"She was Principal Sylvester, not that I want to remember," Janet replies. "Are you sure you want their life stories? It's pretty emotional Kurt."
"Yes. I'm sure. I don't have any other plans at the moment."
"Alright Kurt, but Janet's right. It's pretty emotional," Dave replies, squeezing Dylan's hand for support. As he gets to where they're separated, Kurt tries to bolt to his feet and leave when Dylan lightly grabs his hand.
"Kurt, I have something to show you," he says as he pulls out a folder from his back and hands it to Kurt. Kurt, against his better judgment, sits down and opens the folder. He's once again stunned at the contents.
"This actually happened Kurt," Azimio pipes in. "It took a lot of Googling but I found it. And there's 27 guys in prison now that'll confirm it while saying it's no big deal."
"But, a ten-year-old?" Blaine aimlessly asks while going over the contents with Kurt. There's newspaper articles, city notices of housing units being condemned, crime scene photos of houses being vandalized. Then the two boys freeze in place.
"I'm... I'm likely the only person on the planet that has one of those for myself," Dylan whispers as the Death Certificate is removed from the folder. When the two get to the bottom they are visibly using sheer willpower to not retch.
"B-b-but... w-w-wh-why did you..?" Kurt tries to ask Dave, for the first time looking into his eyes willingly, not out of fear or rage.
"Because," he hangs his head down, his eyes tearing again, "they forced me to watch. And with the panic and fear... they were doing it to me too." To prove his statement he has Janet hand her phone to Kurt and Azimio's to Blaine. He motions to Janet to cover Dylan's eyes as he sends a text to both of his friend's phones. He pockets his phone and lightly pulls Janet's hands from Dylan's eyes.
"So Dylan, what was in the message I sent them?"
'I don't always tell the truth, but I never flat out lie.'
Not feeling like giving in Kurt hastily replies "You could have rehearsed that before we got here."
"Fine, I'll have Janet cover my eyes again and you can use one of your phones to send a message back. I'll even tell you which of your phones was used as well as the number," Dylan replied as he pulls Janet's hands to his eyes. Once in place he pulls Dave's hands to his ears. The two Warblers look confused but agree to play along a little more. They decide to use Kurt's phone to send:
- This is garbage. There is no SUCH thing as TELEPATHY!
Dave glances at his phone on the table and sees the notifier. Before he even finishes the message Dylan starts to speak.
"'(402) 102-5585: This is garbage. There is no SUCH thing as TELEPATHY!' Kurt's iPhone 3Gs." Dylan matches the punctuation perfectly. His eyes and ears were completely covered so he couldn't have seen or heard what happened, especially since he was facing the opposite direction of the phone.
"Oh holy Gaga!" Kurt gasps. "You have that now?"
"Again yes," Dave replies. "From then to now it's been dreams. I actually thought I was going a little insane this morning."
"This wasn't part of our plan," Dylan says while indicating Janet and Azimio. "I was supposed to show up on Christmas day and surprise the whole family."
"Just answer one question for me Dave," Kurt asks, genuine curiosity in his voice, "why me? Why was I singled out?"
Dave simply picks up his phone, taps a few times, and hands it to Kurt. Other than an inch or two more height, fifteen pounds, and the hair color, this was him. He looks to Dave, then to the phone, then to Dylan and the phone, then he notices the clothes.
"You... looked a lot like me..." Kurt replies, facing Dylan, stunned yet again.
"I didn't want you to suffer what I went through, and got more and more angry when you wouldn't try to blend in. Do you remember the first time we met?"
"When you ruined over a thousand dollars worth of clothes?" Kurt stated matter-of-factly.
"Before that, when I pulled you into Mr. Schue's Spanish class and warned you in French?"
"That never happened," Kurt scoffed and took another sip of mocha.
"Yes it did Kurt," Dylan replied. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and as David Karofsky said: " ' Look Fancy, be in the closet as much as you want, but at least look the part?' At some point you defended your sweater by saying ' Eric Gaskins made this sweater. It's okay for guys to wear it, and I'm Kurt Hummel' And Dave told you ' Women's couture, and men's clothes button left on right. That sweater's a women's and buttons right on left. Why can't you understand that?'
Everyone was stunned, even Janet, who knew him the best at the moment. Blaine looked to Dave, Kurt, Dylan, and back to Kurt. The young Diva looked like someone had ripped off a long strip of waxing tape covered in super glue along his nether-regions. After a few moments he regained himself and began speaking again.
"I... remember that now. If I had done what you asked, you would have left me alone? Both of you?"
"Yes," came the answer from Dave and Azimio in unison. Azimio spoke more.
"I only went along because I didn't want anything seriously bad to happen. That only worked for so long I guess," he finished and shot a 'fuck you' look to Dave, who just shook his head.
"I broke you, took your life - school, friends and stuff - and forced myself on you Kurt. I can't ever ask for your forgiveness, but I can try to show you how sorry I am for what I did and how ashamed I am of who I became. And if you're fifty and want to consider forgiveness, that's awesome. If not, it's what I deserve." Dave said.
"I... understand now how, you became what you did. I think, in time, I might be able to forgive you. My dad and Carol, on the other hand..." Kurt trailed off.
"I have something quite important to lose, again," as he looks at Dylan, "but I'm not really worried about your dad hurting or killing me. I want to tell him, your family, exactly what I did to you, including how I psychotically took your wedding cake topper. I want... I owe them an explanation and an apology. Mind you I don't expect any of them to accept it." Dave sounded and looked disappointed.
"I'll, I'll see what I can work out Dave. In the meantime, maybe you should talk to Rachel and her dads?"
"About that... I want to apologize to the whole glee club. So far it's been one at a time, small groups like Artney and Tuck. Do you think Rachel could help with that while her dad's help me?"
"We'll see. I'll talk with her today."
"Thank you Kurt. Umm, would it be okay if I hugged you?" Dave asks, getting shocked looks from everyone at the table.
"Um... maybe?" Kurt squeaked as he slowly slid out of the booth. Once everyone was out the former bully and his victim shared a very tepid hug. No one heard the larger boy whisper in French to this former target "He's cute for a twink. I hope you two end up together."
Only Azimio saw the reply of "Thanks. I'm working on it."
So, can you guess what's in store for our Gleeks? Okay, keep guessing. This is where things get really interesting. I changed the arc here a little before I caught it and said "NO! Bad brain!" but I think it works well. And did you guess Janet would be so ballsy? Of course you did!
The next chapter might be awhile. I'm busy tomorrow and might not get a lot of time to write until Saturday. Of course five chapters in a little under two weeks is awesome.
