Chapter Seventeen: The One No One Wants To See.
XVII: Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned.
She's never been a typically optimistic person. She's logical, rational and precise; optimism gets pushed to the side in favour of cynicism. She has experienced too much disappointment to ever hope in an unrealistic fashion, to ever aspire beyond the realms of existence – but he makes her want to believe differently. For the first time in her life, a happiness sparks in her heart that makes her want to dream again.
Quinn had resigned herself to the advice column, she had concluded that she should stay where she could. His words inspire her to think differently, to want more; she's always been ambitious, but she lost it along the way. He brings it back. She thinks she loves him for it.
In essence, he's what she has always wanted. He's kind, he's loving, he's attentive and bright – but he's not what she's gone for in the past. They don't bicker constantly in a fiery battle, they don't get passionate over the last slice of bread, but she thinks maybe that is what everything is supposed to be. Fighting doesn't equal love, she reasons. They're still passionate – definitely still passionate. It's different though. With Sam, it's a quiet passion that strikes her soul with a warm, fuzzy feeling.
Feeling out of her depth is not something she likes. Quinn is always in control, always knowing what's going to happen and how it will pan out exactly. Except now, she's relinquishing some of it. She's surrendering a morsel of this control to either him or a higher power, she's not sure. Quinn's only done that once in her life, and that didn't end so fantastically, so she's a little wary.
She's surprised by how much she likes it. If it shocks her friends, it astounds her because he's nothing she's ever looked for. He's a little more like Finn than her recent boyfriends, and she hasn't been with Finn since she was about sixteen. Maybe she had the right idea back then.
Sam reaches across the table and grabs her hand, asking if she's okay. Quinn smiles because he cares, because he's not afraid to show he cares. Nodding, she strokes his hand softly with her thumb and waits for him to continue his story. While she's listening intently, she can't help but notice his little idiosyncrasies as he speaks. The way his smile is sheepish, revealing the very slight dimples in his cheeks. How he holds his hands in front of him and squares his shoulders when flirting, his eyes eyeing her with unequivocal attention.
Despite how loved up she's feeling this evening, not even she expects the next words out of her mouth, effectively cutting him off, "I want you to meet Beth next weekend."
They tumble out quick and fast, thoughtless and reckless. She frowns immediately after, wondering where on earth the idea had decided to present itself. Quinn supposes that she has been contemplating these things lately; contemplating a long-term Sam and Quinn.
He gives her a smile, "Sure. I'd love to meet her…. She looks exactly like you. I wonder if she talks half as much."
The joke earns him a laugh, "Oh, count yourself lucky then, she doesn't talk half as much. The girl is painfully shy so you may need to win her over."
"How hard can it be?" He says undauntedly, "I won you over!"
Quinn pushes her food around her plate, "Yeah, I didn't make it easy, did I?"
"Where's the fun in easy?" He grins, and instantly her disposition is brightened. The restaurant is bursting with chatter, laughs and even the occasional argument, but here in their little booth, Quinn can't find it in her to care what else is going on. They're having the romantic meal they've been putting off for weeks for whatever reasons, and she is enjoying immensely.
Sure, his celebrity impressions are less than stellar, his jokes are downright embarrassing and his nerdy references lose her, but she takes all that on board because she's not so perfect herself.
"You know… I've never been this infatuated with someone before."
She nods, because infatuation is the most accurate word. After a beat, she whispers intimately, "Me too." Something niggles at her, Sam stares at her for a few seconds, and then it's like nothing ever happened. Except the niggling.
She wishes it would disappear.
The night feels like every other in many ways, for they're all still the same people, with the same habits joking over the same occurrences. However, tonight has a certain buzz; there's an atmosphere that he hasn't felt in quite some time. No doubt, it's been there before – excitement. Anticipation, but who knows for what? There's a feeling of expectancy, like something will change the world tonight, but everyone knows that in reality things will remain the same.
Except this time, he doesn't want things to remain the same. Finn's often been compared – by Quinn and Rachel, both avid (nerds) fans – to Ron Weasley from Harry Potter; he's oblivious, slow to the mark at times and often has the emotional range of a teaspoon. He generally has several settings: sad, angry, confused and happy. Usually, a feeling will fall into these categories. However, despite all these apparent characteristics Finn possesses, he has taken some serious time during the running of the show to think. Sure, Puck had mocked him relentlessly for gazing out the apartment window with a perfectly acute pensive expression for a solid two hours, but it had been worth it.
Why, one asks? The answer is quite simple: Finn knows. He knows.
He's finally ready to admit to himself what he has been denying for so long, and it's liberating. There's a new fresh zing in his step, a sparkle in his eyes. He berates himself for not realising sooner, really. Him hating Jesse, wanting to impress Rachel, wanting to save her and make her happy… It makes so much sense.
Finn values their friendship immensely, more than anyone else's. Simple.
He glances around the crammed room, wondering where all of his friends are. They're all just having drinks backstage now that the audience has gone home – there's a cast party later at a nearby club, but Finn isn't thinking that far ahead yet. He's been congratulated by near everyone since the end, and to be honest, he's proud of himself. Like he hasn't been in a long time. Even so, it's not enough to make him consider show business again.
He does much wandering, admiring the bouquets of flowers at each mirror, the flowers dotting the package brightly and loudly. The hardwood floors seem easier to manoeuvre on now, compared to his first rehearsal when he fell flat on his face. The black walls don't seem as daunting as before; they're almost comforting, in their plain nature. Continuing onto the door off of the stage so he can find his friends in the seating area, he tries to assess whether he's upset it's all ended or not.
Finn doesn't know. He doesn't have much time to contemplate it either, because the gaggle of loudmouths he calls friends are situated at the back of the theatre, gazing up at the stage in all its empty glory. He takes a minute to observe them, as he so often does silently. People underestimate his observations – after all, he's oblivious to everything, right?
Santana is gesturing wildly to the stage while chattering to Kurt, Blaine and Sam, putting passion into everything as she always does. There's a rather interesting-looking conversation between Brittany and an Asian, gothic woman on the far left while Mike, Rachel, Quinn and Jesse sit in the chairs in front of the others. Mike and Rachel appear cosy, discussing something closely, but chuckling and giggling all the while. Quinn, to his chagrin, nudges Jesse as he says something presumably insulting and Finn resigns himself to the man's presence.
There are actors, family, friends and many others scattered around his friends, but he pays them no heed. He's spoken to enough of them at this point.
Champagne has been popped and is being passed around, Finn takes a glass gladly. He sits himself down in between Mike and Quinn, waiting for either to acknowledge him. Quinn does so first, her perfectly polished teeth gazing at him from a smile, "Hey you, ready for the celebrations?"
Finn nods eagerly, "Damn straight. I can't wait to let loose!"
"You weren't bad, Finn, I must say," Jesse enters the conversation pompously. Finn manages to retain his temper, and begins to reply politely, when the curly-haired demon continues. "For an amateur, at least."
"I thought he was brilliant," Quinn says, giving him an encouraging wink. She leans forward then to call Rachel, "How do you think Finn did, Rach? Exceed expectations?"
"Of course!" Her reply is immediate. He doesn't remember her ever looking so radiantly happy; her hair is thrown into a somehow elegantly messy bun, her legs are covered by a pair of tight black leggings and a long, white top just barely snatches the glimpse of her bum away. Most noticeably though, is her eyes; they're glowing with joy.
He realises that he'd do anything to put that smile there – and that's not a regular thought between friends.
Stuttering with this revelation, he can't reply. Lucky for him, Rachel has an endless supply of words, and an endearing ignorance of when she is talking too much. "Although, I always expected him to be wonderful. He shone brightly in high school, there's absolutely no reason he wouldn't do the same now. Finn never lets anyone down." She adds the ending on with a sad sort of smile, confusing him. Perhaps it's a nostalgic smile – he can't tell.
It doesn't matter either way, because the conversation moves swiftly along. Jesse and Rachel leave to put on some music, Quinn engages Mike in an argument about marriage which causes Finn to promptly find new partners to speak with. As per usual, he floats between different people; insults fly with Santana, gossip is given from Kurt and Puck once again badgers him about Rachel. The evening turns to night rapidly, and he knows there's no way they'll make it to the club. Everyone has drunk a fair bit now, but it's still early.
On his way to the bathroom, his pathway is obscured by two figures. He mentally groans. "Hey Mom, Burt. How you guys doing? You're still here?"
The older man claps him on the back, "Of course! We wanted to catch up with you kids. This nice man then began talking to us about you, and the musical in general."
His mom helpfully adds, "He was in a wheelchair, bless him. Where's Kurt, honey? I want to say goodbye to him… you know, it's been so long since you two took a trip to Lima. Will you be home for Christmas this year?"
Fin awkwardly scratches the back of his head, "Um, I don't think so, Mom. I usually hang with my friends.."
She nods, but doesn't say much. Burt smiles widely upon spotting his son, "Kurt's over there with someone. I need some advice on an anniversary present," He whispers loudly to Finn, winking.
Carole, Finn's mother, smiles up at the man, but the sadness hasn't gone. Finn hates this guilty feeling, especially when it concerns the woman he thinks he loves most in the world. His mother has been everything to him for most of his life, since she only met Burt when he was in high school. Internet dating provided a new partner for his mother, one who was loving and kind and never let her down; he loved Burt for that. Burt also had a son, Kurt, who Finn had initially clashed with due to the sexual orientation differences. (Kurt fancied him.)
He always said his mother taught him how to be a man, even without one around. It makes him feel like a tool to let her down like this.
"Okay, I'll come visit you guys soon." He and Burt exchange a small hug before he comes to his Mom. "Sorry, Mom."
"Don't be silly, it's fine, Finn. Just don't forget to come visit me every now and again, okay? I'm beginning to forget your face!" She gives him a warm smile that makes the world right again, and he bids them goodbye after more hugs and well wishes.
He tells himself the night can only get better from here.
Upon seeing Jesse and Rachel locked in a tight, very unfriendly embrace around the next corner, Finn realises that the cosmos punish for such foolish statements.
"Oh, come on. There is no point in going to a Katy Perry concert unless you're going to embrace the crazy,"
"I don't know, Kurt, I'm pretty content in dancing around and belting out the tunes," Blaine smiles, his stance mirroring Kurts as they lean on the back wall of the theatre. However, unlike Kurt, he is calm, relaxed and poised while the other boy is full of energy, buzzed and gesturing dramatically every few moments. Not to mention he keeps speaking to Blaine in French, which he wouldn't mind if he could understand it.
Kurt shakes his head at him sadly, as if he's a lost case, "Someday, you're going to come to her concert with me and ditch the bowtie and three-quarter length trousers for some crazy."
The statement makes Blaine laugh outright, earning a small smirk from the other man. Kurt forces himself to glance away, attempting to appear uninterested in this, when in reality it's all he can do to prevent himself from staring at Blaine's mouth. He studiously seeks out someone to keep them company – and sees Finn heading towards them - because he's not sure of how much longer he can contain he thoughts – or feelings, on this matter.
"We'll see about that," Kurt's head whips around to look at the other man, so quickly that a bout of pain shoots up his back and neck, but Blaine only smiles. Kurt's heart rate only returns to (drunken) normal when he realises his response was to the Katy Perry joke, rather than reading Kurt's mind. Thank god for small miracles; the lack of mind-reading.
Why can't Blaine just be less… less…. Charming. Gorgeous. Lovely. Clever. Funny. Why can't he not be Blaine? Kurt groans, wondering why he's such a masochist. It's always the straight ones, isn't it? Sebastian, his friend from college, constantly reiterates this statement but it doesn't mean much. It doesn't change anything, or make him feel better, or even provide some sort of resolve to change. Kurt likes Blaine (as more than a friend) and no matter how he tries to convince himself otherwise, he fears it's always going to be true… at least until Kurt finds some other straight guy to agonize over.
His eyes glance back to Blaine's fearfully, but he should have known better. As usual, the charmer's eyes are wide and friendly, offering a solace from the chaos around him. The smile on Blaine's face is small – almost secretive – and may just have a hint of flirtation playing.
Maybe Blaine's not straight, Kurt's drunken mind tells him gaily. Maybe he's just in the closet, and needs a big, strong man to help him out – no, wait, scratch that. A confident, skinny and flamboyant man to help him out. Kurt's eyes widen to himself; that sounds like him. He should tell Blaine how he feels, it is only right. He deserves to know so that he can tell Kurt he's gay, so that he can finally open up to someone and that someone would cherish their secret for whatever length of time is required.
Blaine needs to know. Kurt needs to tell him.
Resolve made up, Kurt leans his shoulder against the wall, drawing whatever support he can from it. Opening his mouth, he hesitates and calculates his words, "Blaine, I—I have something to tell you."
"Sure Kurt, you can tell me anything," He smiles, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Blaine frowns soon after, "Is everything okay?"
Forcing a grin, "Everything's great. I just… I just wanted to tell you that you are one of my best friends, even though we've known each other for such a short amount of time." The wondrous, gleaming smile appears on his friends (love's) face again, encouraging Kurt more than anything else, "You're kind, open, friendly, charming – not to mention gorgeous," he hitches over these words, "A—and I … I really like you, Blaine."
"Wow, thanks Kurt. I really like you, too." The second of light-hearted giddiness and sheer delight is ruined when Kurt realises Blaine thinks he means as a friend.
Raising his eyebrows, Kurt emphasises, "No, Blaine, I really like you."
He falls back against the wall, eyes still locked with Kurts. It isn't warmth and friendliness exuding from the brown orbs anymore though; it's shock with maybe a hint of embarrassment and fear. His body language tells the tale as he retreats from Kurt, drawing back all touches and mirroring. His mouth begins to open and close, closely resembling a fish, but no words emit.
His heart is slowly shrivelling up, alcohol dissipating at an alarming rate, leaving him with a dull pounding in his ears that startles him into action again. Kurt turns to move, only to find Finn behind him. Completely oblivious, the boys face is thunderous and his eyes reflect those of a madman.
Throwing a look to his brother, Finn utters the words, "I'm leaving." So low that he could swear he didn't hear him.
Abandoning his own problems – mainly Blaine still looking troubled – Kurt tries to engage Finn, "What happened? Is something wrong?"
Everything. Kurt immediately answers himself.
Finn gives him another answer, one that doesn't ring half as true, "Nothing. Let's go."
"Maybe I don't want to leave." Kurt shoots back, not willing to play this guess-the-mood game with Finn. He's played enough times to know that it never ends well, and his mood is exactly what you think at first. He's not exactly an enigma. Every thought Finn has is usually splayed out on his face, unlike many of their friends.
"Fine. I'll find another brother to help me. Oh, wait.." He's bitter. Kurt suddenly has a strong desire to leave with Finn, perhaps it's because Blaine isn't meeting his eyes and has yet to say a word, so he sighs and pulls Finn back as he's about to storm off.
"Okay, I'll come with you. Want to at least give me a clue as to what's wrong?"
This answer is a lot more honest than the last, and he can tell by the way Finn's shoulders sag just an inch, "Did you hear Rachel and Jesse are getting together?"
His mouth forms a delicate 'o' while the only coherent thought running through Kurt's mind is: Oh, shit.
He doesn't know why he's so angry. Surely, he should have expected something like this? Surely he knew what Blaine's response would be? With a hasty glance to his right, Kurt wonders if Finn is feeling the same conflicting emotions. Minus one large, irrevocable and altering fact: Finn didn't spill his guts to the object of his desire.
Anger heats inside of him naturally, after all, what other emotion would be so safe? He stops just short of the car, wondering how on earth they're going to get home. They can't take the car they share – both of them have had a few drinks, and how was everyone else going to make it home? Finn doesn't seem to possess the same train of thought however, as he throws open the door with impetuosity only seen in dramatic exits at the movies.
Banishing his own troubled thoughts, Kurt pokes his head in through the door of the passenger seat, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"I'm not drunk." Finn tells him decidedly, hands on the steering wheel, waiting for Kurt to climb in.
He sighs, "You may not be drunk, but you're sure as hell over the limit. Keys." It's a demand, one that Finn is mildly offended by.
"I'm not stupid, Kurt. I'm not over the limit." There's a small silence in which they assess each other. Kurt is hesitant, mulling over his thoughts on the subject, while Finn is rapidly losing patience and any understanding he had. "I'm going. You can stay here and make a fool of yourself, or get in and leave this dump behind."
It stings; Kurt won't lie. The jab hits him where Finn intends, and works exactly the same way, having the effect of getting Kurt to enter the car. Swallowing thickly, Kurt closes his eyes and leans his head back; he's resigned to a bumpy ride home filled with the wondrous additions of tension and awkwardness.
He just wants to turn off. To leave behind the dregs of this night and stop thinking about how he's ruined the greatest new friendship he has – not that Kurt has made that many friends lately. His campaign seems to scare people off if anything. The vote is coming up at the end of December, which excites and scares Kurt all the same.
"I'm sorry." Kurt is so startled by the admission, that it takes him several seconds to realise what Finn said.
Blinking slowly; "Um, … yeah, it's fine. I get it. You and Rachel, you were kind of a plan."
"Right?!" Finn questions, turning impulsively to look at Kurt. His eyes are wide, eager for confirmation of his grief. "I thought we were always going to come back together." He bangs his fist rather lightly against the steering wheel, cursing himself, "this is pathetic."
"You know, she's not marrying the guy. Ross married, like, three people before eventually going back to Rachel."
"Really, Kurt? A Friends reference?"
He shrugs, "The time calls for it."
The next words are hesitant. He licks his lips several times before eventually saying it, not to mention his eyes flickering between Kurt and the road rapidly, "So… so we're Ross and Rachel?"
Even if Kurt isn't sure he fully believes they are the Ross/Rachel in their group of friends, in that moment, he wants nothing more than to take away Finn's anxiety. It makes him feel better about himself, however selfish that may be. So, he smiles and replies softly, "You're the Ross and Rachel."
Finn looks at him in relief, and Kurt wonders why the older man is putting so much weight to his words. He supposes any consolation is welcome; he wouldn't know. He's sure Finn is going to thank him, and show how grateful he is by asking Kurt about his horrible night and offer words of comfort.
Timing was never Finn's strong suit though. He turns to Kurt, eyes filled with a mirage of feelings, when a deafening crash invades their senses and knocks them out of their consciousness. Kurt's world turns black, pain ripping through his form until it takes over.
The nearby harrowing screams do nothing to wake his consciousness.
A/N: Soo... Hi. I know, it's probably a surprise to find out I'm not dead. I do intend to finish this story. I'm shortening it considerably so that I will definitely finish it... Being honest, it's becoming more difficult with the S4 of Glee.
But I must persevere! I'm sorry for the lack of updates thus far, but hopefully I can improve on that from now on.. I'm very eager to wrap this and my other Glee WIP up. Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Friends or "Try" by P!nk.
Bit of a whirlwind chapter, a lot going on here, so please leave a review and I will reply asap :)
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it,
CN.