Every of the calls they were receiving were much more depressing than the previous ones. It sucks. Their lifes suck. And all of this sucks so much. It's like extremely dark cloud that came onto their place and hide everything what's bright and shiny. It seems like it would never disappear. Kurt was sitting on the rooftop, looking into the sky and as always when he was on high, thinking. Reflecting on his meaningless existence, sinking into the melancholy. It was annoying and didn't have much of an explanation. Everyone, and I mean everyone, knows that drugs make you feel euphoric, optimistic...light and fresh, not change you into a human wreck. Reflecting, thinking, it wasn't half bad as going back to his sub-concious, to Kurt's memories. His past. The darkest moments of his entire life...
'Kurt, what's going on?! Just explain it to me, say what happened, you CAN NOT just pack up and leave like some spoiled brat!'
Cold Laugh. 'Oh, please...you want explanation? Where have you been,Dad? Where have you been when they're picking up on me? Where have you been when he started to touch me and-and...you know what? I am not getting into this discussion, not with you, not with anyone and most definitely not about this!'
'What?! He did...I mean..What?!'
Another Cold Laugh 'You didn't know, did you? You never knew, you never noticed, you never really cared...YoU! Just fuck you, leave me...I'm leaving,dad.'
'Kurt, no...let's talk, let's...please,no...iBegg you,Kurt!'
'Dad...just let me go. I've never fitted here, not in this place, not with these people...not with you...'
*** He regretted many things, but leaving his dad, ignoring him and forgetting...he didn't know how he should feel about it. It wasn't that he wouldn't do that, if he could get back in time. It's just the pain, the guilt that build up deeply and heavely on his stomach, lungs...every piece of his body. Used body, messed up body, fucked up body. Someone tapped him on his shoulder. Flinching, he turned around slowly in a way to make his right face profile clearer to the stranger. Poker face, no sign of emotions. "Are you okay?" Asked female voice, light, a bit raspy caused by smoking."You seemed a bit off after listening to that call..." Biting her lips Tina sat next to Kurt and started to play with the ending of her purple sweater. It was hideous, that much Kurt's noticed, but he remained himself from throwing sarcasticaly mean joke about her choice in that particular clothing. Instead he kept on looking in the sky. He didn't know how to answer, what to say. They both know that he was depressed, that he wanted to punch something, but agression and violence? Kurt hated to run from problems into any of these. He prefered to close himself from the others, put up a wall;a steady wall, which was impossible to break. "I appreciate that, Tina." A shadow of a smile appeared on his face, he chrzaknal."But I don't want to talk about that. Not now, not never. I just needed a moment with myself." He looked at Tina, eyes shining with pure sadness, desperation and need of understanding. It took Tina's breath away. He looked beautifuly miserable. She was mesmerized, such an ispiration...wait, hold up. Inspiration? "I know, Kurt. I know...you don't need to say anything." She said, her voice breaking. She knew, she really knew and understand what was it like. To hold yourself, to not be able to express your own feelings, emotionsn, your personality. She was used to that. "Tina...why are we so messed up?" A soft voice, a bit weary, filled with weakness and zmeczeniem. The queastion sinked in the air, made a conaction between them. For the first time, Kurt and Tina felt so comfortable with themselves. For the first time, they felt like friends, like a family. ***
"Tina? Tina who?" "Um...*laugh* I'm not exactly sure, but I was given that adress as in...'
"Are you going to finally say what's in your head, girl? I ain't got time to sit here and listen to you mumbling..."
"Carl, keep your tone and shut it. Darling, what are you trying to say?"
* a long pause*
"My name is Tina Cohen-Chang. I'm...I mean, I am..."
"You are...?"
"Cohen-chang? That surname sounds quite familliar to me. "
*Long Pause"
"I am your daughter. The one you left in orphanage! Don't you remember me?! It's me! Tina...Your girl!"
*Pause*
"...Daugher? I am sorry, but we don't have any child. We never did...we've got...um, Anastazia, would you explain? *whispering* I think she's mental, deal with it, but nicely. I don't want to have some problems with psychos."
"Um, Tina, right? Yeah, that's...me and Carl are infertile, we cannot have children."
" How...how, It's impossible, I know"
"Wait, wait...all I'm saying that you...
Tina was a painter. A good one, with knowledge that most of the amators could get jealous of. Sketching, using various colors, reflecting her thoughts, reflections on to the piece of paper or the board- yeah, that was clever. But not anymore. She had an inspiration. Her parents, family that was waiting for her somewhere...but after finding out that your own biological parents have no idea about your existence-that was painful, heartbreaking. That was the worst experience ever. It killed her, it killed her passion, dreams, inspirations...everything she was holding on went away with conversation that lasted less than 5 minutes. And now? Here she was, in NYC, with nothing except group of friends...well, not friends. Kind off friends. Do people you know only for 3 months can be considered as you friends? She doesn't know. And didn't want. She felt emptiness, but she wasn't unhappy. Not as much as she used. She didn't have that much life in herself as she once had, but still she was stronger than most of people she met. She's a survivor. "We're messed up" she confirmed, with much more power in her voice. She surprised herself how much power was in that sentence, but she didn't dwell on it. She hated getting into details."We're different, we're special."
Kurt smiled. Again. So she smiled as well. And one more time, they felt stronger in their company. "When I was younger I asked my mum about God. She told me she doesn't believe in existence of any God. She had her own prayer, though." " Her own prayer?" "Her own prayer."
"...is there any reason you're telling me that?" Tina felt a bit embarrased. Their conversation had that serious tone a while ago, and now Kurt is suddenly smiling, talking about his mum. And Kurt never does that. No one does. They do not talk about their past, families. At least not much.
"There is.' Kurt spoke softly. "It's about us. All of us." "Is it?" Tina asked somehow cofused, although intrigued a bit. "Can I hear it?" "You is kind..." A pause, long loud sniff. "You is smart..." Another pause, small smile. "You is important". "You is kind. You is smart. You is important."