Self fulfilling prophecy.
Self fulfilling prophecy.
By definition, a self fulfilling prophecy is: a prediction that directly or indirectly causes itself to become true, by the very terms of the prophecy itself, due to positive feedback between belief and behavior.
In simpler terms, a self fulfilling prophecy is a series of cause-and-effect events based on what you have been told, and what you believe. Example;
Cause: Every day a average-sized child is called fat.
Effect: The child starts to believe that, and out of grief (or the thought of 'Well if I already am _ it doesn't matter if I do _) the child starts to eat more, and eventually does fit societies terms of "fat".
If you are told something a certain number of times, you will begin to believe it. And your thoughts and actions from that point, will be based on what you believe. Its when something alters your self esteem level, messes with your confidence. Most of the time, it takes someone being told that specific thing multiple times in order for it to have a real hard hitting effect, but for Kurt Hummel? It only took a few assumptions and one singular time. Because you see, the combination of the bullying, the attack, the note from Sam, the fight with his father, the stares from the onlookers, and the words "Well I'm acting more like his son than you are!" was all it took for Kurt stay away from not just his family, but his old life all together. Because those words had just started out as a metaphorical snowflake, but then over the course of just a few hours it started to build, and grow, and find its way rolling down a hill. A downward spiral, so to speak. And since he believed it, a downward spiral is exactly what he had become.
xx
Five Years Later.
'Well I'm acting more like his son than you are!'
'More like his son than you are.'
'More like his son than you.'
'More like his son.'
'When you quit acting like a five year old who didn't get their way and start acting like my god damn son again, let me know!'
'You're only making this more difficult for everyone else, Kurt.'
'Kurt, I'm sorry, I just...that kiss was a mistake...I'm not gay.'
'What're you two fags doin'?'
Delilah Lutz tended to be of the more physiological/astronomical side of life, believing in physiological facts she researched, what the orders of the stars meant, palm reading, all that jazz. For the most part, Kurt fared with her assumptions, they weren't crazy obsessions of hers, just things she looked up in her free time but when she told him that people who snore in their sleep don't have dreams, he didn't buy that bullshit. Always been told he was a light snorer himself, a fact confirmed by Delilah as well, his subconscious should not be playing dreams on his closed eyes. But they were, and when they first began, they were the worst. He would relive every detail, every mistake, every screw-up he made, but he'd relive it in his dreams to be ten times worse. And it haunted him, Finn taunted him, Sam laughed in his face with a look of disgust as he held his arm around Quinn, Burt just stared blankly, the one that was hardest to see was Santana and Brittany. Together. Happily. Kissing, hugging, holding hands down the street, without anyone having an issue with it. It felt like he was being punched in the gut, as he had been in the attack, but it hurt all that much more. All the while voices were echoing through his nightmares, saying the same things in every dream, and eventually as the years droned on his night mares slowly abated and when they did occur, they only echoed the haughty voices. And the previous night, was no exception.
"Kurt? Come on, its time to get up," A soft voice called from the kitchen, one Kurt easily pin-pointed as Delilah's.
He groaned and rolled over on his spot on the futon, mumbling something incoherent before exerting the energy into lifting himself up in a manner that resembled a push-up, "I'm up."
Delilah was standing in the kitchen, mixing something in a bowl that she cradled in her elbow, while humming an distant tune. Her black hair was pinned up, and although she had a smile on her face, her blue eyes looked a bit more blue and exhausted today, "Good Morning," She said, and then glanced at the clock with a laugh, "at 2:30 in the afternoon."
"'Morning 'Lilah," He said, "What are you doing?"
"Well I'm cooking, I thought that much has been made obvious at this point," She said teasingly.
He rolled his eyes, "For me? You shouldn't have."
"I'm making your favorite, so unless you don't want your pancakes, I'd hush up," Without her even turning around, he knew she had a look of mock-exasperation on her face.
He took a seat in small kitchen table closest to the stove, pulling out the chair to face her, "Strawberry pancakes?" His eyes light up when she nodded, "Is it my birthday or are you just in an exceptional mood today?"
"I'm working a double shift tonight at The Palm," The italian restaurant that was down town from her parents summer home in LA, in which they had been residing in for the past two and a half years, she said.
"But didn't you just end your shift at Monsoon?" A popular cafe also not too far from where they lived, he asked.
"Yeah," Delilah sighed and poured the batter onto the pan, "Those damn stubborn student loans are refusing to pay themselves."
Kurt rolled his eyes once more, "But why? I can actually fend for myself. And do I need to count off how many times your parents have offered to pay it off for you? Honestly, you have too much pride." He added with a frown.
"Thats not exactly what Rory told me," She shot him a look from the corner of her eye and Kurt gulped, Rory was his boss and he knew exactly what she was talking about, "He called me at work, and told me you almost passed out last night, and told me to make sure you actually, oh I don't know, ate something?"
"I wasn't hungry," Kurt just shrugged and fixed his gaze to the floor, even though the truth was he had only woken up a half an hour before his shift started and had no time to eat.
Delilah sighed, flipping the pancake over, "You know Monsoon's isn't exactly hiring but I could get you a job there...one with reasonable hours, that won't exhaust you to the point where you pass out on that dammed futon for god knows how long."
"Those circles under your eyes and that lovely double shift you just informed me of tells me that your job isn't any less exhausting then mine," Kurt replied without a moments hesitation, picking up one of the many magazines that were strewn across the table.
Delilah let out another sigh, but didn't say a word and the two of them fell into an awkward silence, the only sound to be heard was that of the bubbling pancake and the pages of a magazine turning. "What do you want to drink?" She asked, evidently uncomfortable with the quiet.
"Nothing," He responded nonchalantly, flipping another page, which causing Delilah to grab a Fiji water from the fridge and put it in front of him, "Actually, water sounds fantastic."
She let out a little laugh, and handed him his plate before pulling out a chair across from him, "You're too nice to me." He pointed out before giving her a small smile.
"I'm just worried about you Kurt," She folded her hands and stared at him thoughtfully.
"Why?" He asked, cutting his pancake in a dainty like manner.
"I..." She didn't know where to start, "I hate you're doing this to yourself."
He didn't look up, "You didn't have a problem with it before."
"Your job? I always have." She reminded him.
"Whats wrong with it?" He knew damn well what was wrong with it.
"I feel like you're selling yourself. Its not fair, you never once talked to me about it in the five years I've known you, but I know you have dreams. And I know this is-"
He cut her off, "Dreams require freedom, and freedom requires money."
"And my parents could help you, Kurt. They're dying to actually," Delilah stated, begging Kurt with her eyes to just look her way.
"They've always been dying to help me, and its not fair to them that I just mooch off of them," Kurt put his knife down, and looked up at her with an irritated look, and then glanced at the clock.
"Its three o'clock, you need to get going," He said.
Silently she got up, slipped into the bathroom and changed into her uniform for The Palm, grabbed her coat and had one foot through the door before she turned around and said, "Y'know, between the two of us, I'd say you were the one with a pride issue."
xx
"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" A blonde haired man cat-called to Delilah as she made her way behind the bar counter, which had only ten minutes ago opened after her second shift began.
"Its nice to see you too Jeff," She smiled and adjusted her apron.
"You're a bar-tender now?" He asked, incredulous.
"I learned how to mix a few drinks back in college, and this was the only way I could work a double shift," She rested her hand in her elbow which she perched against the counter. "Wheres Nick?"
Jeff let out a laugh and looked around, "He's probably still trying to drag our other friend out of the house. Won over a pretty big firm today, and he still won't come out to live a little."
"And what was his name again? Mark?" She asked.
"Blaine," He corrected with a small smile, "Can't blame him though, he caught his boyfriend with another man earlier this week...well month actually but he acts like it only happened a day ago."
"Just because I don't have a rebound within twenty four hours like you doesn't mean I'm any less well off than you," A black haired man rounded the corner and took a seat on the stool next to Jeff, while Nick sat on Jeff's other side.
"I've been telling him a little visit to the strip club will remove that pole up his ass," Nick said to Delilah, pointing a thumb in Blaine's direction, "Anyway, how are you on this fine, fine, day Dee? I'm not used to seeing you working the bar."
Blaine opened his mouth to interject but was cut off by Jeff, "Normally its that old guy who's always giving us the shit eye. I don't think he's fond of us."
"Rumor has it Nick got a little too drunk on one of your infamous Friday night escapades, and took his soda hose and sprayed Sprite down his shirt," Delilah accused with a smirk, causing Blaine to laugh.
"Why haven't I heard this story before guys?" Blaine turned around in his seat, looking at Nick and Jeff, both a very bright red color in their cheeks.
"Uhm, well," Nick scratched the back of his neck, not meeting anyones gaze, "I left him a tip if that counts."
Suddenly a very angry Kurt Hummel bursted in through the doors of The Palm, and he scanned through the tables and mixture of waiters and waitresses, looking for the only one of them who appeared to have a death wish, Delilah. He pursed his lips as he found her talking to three guys behind a bar, and tried to grab her attention without causing a scene. Finally she met his eyes and he walked over to the side of the bar.
"Will you three excuse me for a minute?" She asked politely, eyeing Kurt from the side of her eye. She walked over to him and stepped out of the bar, "Whats wrong?"
"Would you be so kind to tell me why I just got a call from Rory, telling me to take the day off?" He demanded, placing a hand to his hips.
Delilah looked just as surprised as him, and asked, "Wait what? Kurt, I didn't tell him anything, other than I'd make sure you ate something before you left."
"Well if it wasn't you, than who was it?" He began to tap his foot.
"Look, does it even matter? You've been working hard and a day off isn't going to kill you." She relented, giving up on even trying to deny it.
"Now what am I supposed to do?" He sighed angrily.
"You can stay here, happy hour starts soon," She said with a smile.
He looked over at the boys she'd been talking to earlier, "As charming as your friends seem..."
"The one on the end is gay."
"Black hair?"
"Mhm."
"One night couldn't hurt..."
"Absolutely right, come on," She said, pulling him over to where they sat.
"Did you bring us another drinking buddy?" Nick asked, perking up from his spot in the corner.
"Four is a true party!" Jeff said in agreement.
"This is my room mate, Kurt," She said gesturing to him, before looking at Blaine who hadn't said anything, but looked a little shocked.
"I'm Nick!" Nick shouted, as Jeff echoed his self-introduction.
Blaine shot him an easy smile and said, "And that leaves me to be Blaine," and he gestured to the stool next to him, silently offering Kurt a seat.
"I'm Kurt, its a pleasure to meet you all," He said before taking the seat.
And a pleasure it was.
xx
So that was it, a bit late, but here all the same.
And as someone brought to my attention earlier, the title of this story "Burning Up" is a reference to the glee cover that Jesse never got to perform in the Madonna episode.
I hope you enjoyed~