Kurt POV
By the time two hours had passed, Finn and I were no closer to coming up with a solution to our little debacle. Naturally, he was still defending Rachel, because that's just how Finn is. He's especially forgiving right after he's gotten off a few times, four by my last count. After the night we've had, I'm pretty sure neither one of us could get it up again, even if we tried.
"Why don't you just let me talk to Rach first? Get her side of the story?" It was the third or fourth time Finn had asked that.
"Finn, she doesn't have a side! She knowingly hooked up with the most inappropriate person she could, to the detriment of the entire Glee club. Do I have to remind you that if we don't win our Regionals, we're toast? Figgins will rent the room out for AA."
Despite my bitchy tone, I wasn't really angry with Finn. None of this was his fault, and getting angry with him never helped matters. It just made him either scream back or shut down, and neither one of those things were going to solve this.
"Yeah, I know. Mr. Shue tells us that all the time, and I listen." His voice was starting to take on a mulish quality, and I knew that it was time to back off. "It's just that…"
The seconds ticked by, becoming a minute or more, and he didn't finish. I prompted tiredly. "Just that…..?"
"They would say that about you and me." The words came out in a rush. "That I shouldn't be with you, and that you're the most inappropriate person I could hook up with, because you're a dude and everything. And they would be wrong. Maybe we're wrong, too."
Asking Finn to sort something out for you is a little like playing Russian roulette. Five times out of six, you get nothing but a dry click and a blank look. But that sixth time…that sixth time, you get the fire, which was exactly what had just happened. "That's….that's not the same thing."
"Maybe not." He gave me a halfhearted shrug. "But maybe, and I don't want us to be the douche wang that messed it all up for her. Come on; just let me talk to her. If I don't, you'll tell Mercedes, and then everyone will know in 10 minutes because she gossips. Give me just one day."
"This is against my better judgment, Cowboy, but ok. Talk to Rachel, and see what pathetic excuse she can come up with. 24 hours, and that's it."
His resulting smile kind of made the sacrifice worth it. "Cool. Thanks, Kurt, you're awesome."
"You know it. Now, let's talk about something else. Rachel Berry and her animals sweaters make me lose my sex drive."
"Kurt, you know I love you, and I never thought that these words would come out of my mouth, but please, no more sex stuff. I'm exhausted! The little guy is dead."
"No, not sex. Maybe a little pillow talk?" I really wasn't sure why I asked. Finn, like most boys, doesn't do talking well. If he has something he wants to say, he says it, but small talk is not his forte.
Sure enough, now I was getting the deer in the headlights stare. "About what?"
I tried to set him at ease. "I don't know, anything. It won't be that long until my birthday, and then yours right after. For my birthday, Dad always gets me tickets to a Broadway show, and we go together. Maybe this year it could be the four of us? You and I could go to the show, and our parents can do whatever freaky thing they do. It will be the ultimate date."
He smiled a little. "That might be cool, to see an actual Broadway show. What are we going to go see? Since it's your birthday, I'll even go to something that sucks."
Finn's definition of what sucked was much broader then mine, and included just about everything that didn't involve sex, blood, and copious amounts of violence. "I don't know, Dad always surprises me with the show. I really, really want to see Wicked, but tickets are expensive, so it's been a no-go."
"That's the green one with the song you messed up, right?" Finn traced his nose across my collarbone.
"Right. It's also a book. Actually, it's three books, but the musical is just based on the first one. The book is based on the Wizard of Oz, but it's from the witch's point of view. It's also much more adult."
He huffed against my skin. "She wasn't really wicked, was she?"
"Not in the strictest sense. Poor choices, and a nasty temper, but not fundamentally bad."
"Most people aren't. And I get bad choices and nasty temper. I'm guessing that the book is good, though, since they made a play about it."
I wasn't sure the first part of his statement had anything to do with one Jessie St. James, or if it was a more general observation. I decided to swing the conversation in another direction. "I could lend you the book, and you could find out for yourself."
"You know I can barely read. Unless it's one of those 'See Spot Run' sort of books, I'll never get through it." This time, his tone was a little hurt, as if I should have remembered that.
"I could help you. No matter what your problem really is, Finn, you aren't going to get better if you don't work at it." This had to be handled very delicately.
"I don't want to." He was digging his heels in.
"Why not? It's a good story, even by your standards. Lots of violence, and espionage, and even sex. All the makings of a Finn Hudson favorite."
"Can't you just read it to me? I'm a really good listener."
Time for a little bargaining. "How about we alternate? I'll read some, you read some."
The light was gone from his eyes, and I mentally cursed myself for making him unhappy. In fact, he looked almost like he wanted to cry. I rubbed his stomach. "What's wrong?"
His reply was mumbled into his chest, and I had to ask him to repeat himself. This time he looked up, but his voice was still very soft. "People make fun of me."
Oh. I had always been a quick learner, and eager to read out loud, but I could recall which kids didn't do was well. Even though I had never flat out made fun of a slower learner, I had laughed, along with everyone else, and apparently that was just as bad. "I wouldn't make fun of you. When have I ever made fun of you?"
"Never." His eyes were still sad, but I could hear in his voice that he really wanted to believe me.
"Ok. Why don't I read the first few chapters to get us started, and then you can decide whether or not to keep going? There's witch sex in it." I didn't think it would take more then two or three chapters to draw him into the story and get us over the first hurdle.
He nodded, and some of the stress flowed out of his body. I didn't want to spoil the night, so I brought us back around to the original subject. "But we were talking about what play we would go see on Broadway, weren't we?"
"Uh-huh. Maybe we could see that one that had Johnny Depp in it. You know, where he was eating people. That would be awesome."
Despite my aversion to horror movies, I had always wanted to see Sweeny Todd. "I don't think that it's on Broadway right now. How about the Little Mermaid? It's a beautiful story, and much more grown-up then the Disney version."
"Whatever you want to see is fine with me. I want you to be happy on your birthday."
There was the sound of a door slamming from below us, making us both jump guiltily, even though we were fully dressed. "Boys?" Carole's voice rose up the stairs. "Are you both still here?"
What was she doing here? She and my father were supposed to be gone until tomorrow morning.
"Yeah! We're up in my room. We're decent!" Usually Carole didn't bother coming all the way upstairs, but it only took her seeing us undressed one time to scar both Finn and I for life.
"Well, tell Kurt that his father wants him home soon! It's still a school night, you know!"
Luckily, I know how to charm Carole. "We're on our way!" If we made it down there quickly enough, she would know that Finn and I hadn't been doing anything inappropriate.
Like she doesn't know what the two of you were up two this evening. She's not a moron, Kurt.
I really didn't care if she knew, as long as she never said anything to me about it. Just like I knew that she and my father were- ew, I wish I hadn't mentally gone there.
Yeah, I kind of wish you hadn't gone there either. You have a nasty imagination, complete with pictures.
Finn bounded ahead of me to give his mother a hug. She squeezed him back. "How did dinner go?
"Good! There's even leftovers, and I promise you won't get food poisoning from it like you did the last time. Isn't that right, Kurt? It was good?"
"It was delicious, Carole. Don't worry, Rachel helped him, and, as much as it pains me to admit it, the girl can cook."
"Hey, Mom?" Finn learned against the doorframe. "How come you're home so early? I thought that you were spending the night with Kurt's dad. You know, in your own hotel room."
"That was the plan, but Burt has a bad migraine, and wanted to come home for the night. Sorry, boys, your sleepover is cancelled." The smirk that twisted one corner of her mouth told me that she was well aware that the mission for tonight had already been accomplished. It also made her look exactly like Finn.
"Oh." Finn shot her a look the kind that was actually a small conversation between them, one that I had no part in. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You just did, but go ahead." Carole looked as curious as I felt.
"Say that someone you knew was doing something kind of wrong, but not really. Like they were dating a criminal, but they weren't breaking the law themselves. Should you try and get them to break up? Or should you just let it go and hope that they break up on their own?"
Getting someone else's advice on the whole Rachel/Jessie situation wasn't a bad idea, but all he had done was confuse his mother. "Finn, Kurt, are either one of you in trouble?"
"No. It's just that…screw it, Kurt I'm going to tell her. Mom's like a super-genius, so she'll knew what to do."
Like I've said before, Finn is the ultimate mama's boy. It would never have occurred to him that this might be a situation in which Carole wouldn't be able to help us.
That wasn't going to stop her from trying, though. She sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. "Tell me what's wrong."
"Rachel got a new boyfriend. I'm not jealous or anything, since I have Kurt now. Ok, maybe I'm a little jealous, but that's not the point. The point is, her new boyfriend is the male lead from Vocal Adrenaline, and that's our competition. So she's dating the enemy. Kurt thinks we should tell on her, but I don't. Who's right?"
I had to give her some credit, Carole actually thought about it instead of taking either one of our sides immediately. "Does Rachel know who this boy is?"
"Yes."
"We don't know." Finn and I spoke simultaneously. For a moment, his mother was forgotten as we bickered.
"You don't know for sure."
"Of course I do! This is Rachel we're talking about. She knows everything about everyone she meets, much less dates!"
"Well, she didn't know I liked boys." His voice was smug.
"You didn't know you liked boys! And anyway, you don't like boys. You just like me." I wasn't going to let him drag me off course.
"Well that should make you feel special! There are six trillion people on the planet, and you're the one I like the best." He was giving me that half smile half smirk that made me want to pin him down to the nearest surface and do things that would shock the heck out of a seasoned prostitute.
"Finn!" Carole sounded like she was trying not to laugh. "Focus. And there are six billion people on the planet, not six trillion. But back to your Rachel situation, I think the right thing would be to speak to her in private about it. Not to immediately tell everyone else, and certainly don't ignore it. Get her side of the story and move on from there. You both have to remember that she has a life outside of the Glee club, and sometimes making the choices that are best for herself aren't always going to be what's best for the club."
That was where she was wrong. Rachel really didn't have a life outside of the club, and while her choices didn't always reflect what was best for the club, they did always reflect what gave us the best chance of winning.
That was then, this is now. It wasn't that long ago that all of your choices revolved around your father and your fashion. Then came Glee. Then came having actual friends. Then came Finn. Your world is bigger now, and so is hers. I don't know why the thought is so shocking to you.
Maybe because this was Rachel Berry we were talking about? The girl was immensely talented, but possessed all the social acuity of a walrus.
You're just jealous because she made out with Finn first. Admit it, that's part of the reason you're so eager to tell on her now. Petty is not a good look on you, Kurt.
Ok, maybe there was small part of me that felt that way. And maybe another small part that was irritated that Carole hadn't taken my side, even though she hadn't really taken Finn's side either.
"I'll talk to her tomorrow, ok?" Finn's was still facing Carole, so it took me a minute to realize that he was speaking to me. I had been frustrated, but we hadn't really been fighting. Finn didn't seem to have realized that though, and was now eager to make up with me.
"Of course. I'll keep my silence on the matter for 24 hours, no more. After that period is up, I reserve the right to scream it from the top of the Cheerios pyramid." I laid my head on his shoulder, rubbing my cheek against the worn fabric of his T-shirt and enjoying the smell of Finn's body with a little hint of sex.
'Done." He laid his head against mine, causing Carole to give a sad smile and discretely excuse herself from the room. "I love you."
Now we were back to subjects I actually enjoyed talking about. "I love you, too. Walk me to my car?" There was a question I wanted to ask, but I would die before I did it where there was even the smallest possibility that Carole could hear me.
"Ok." He kept his arm around me when we walked, our breaths fogging in the cool air. "So….I was ok? It was all ok?"
"You were perfect." But his words did fall neatly into the thing that had been plaguing my thoughts. "I have a question, though."
"Sure." He opened the car door for me, and even went as far as to put his hands under my arms and lift me up into the car. It was ridiculous, but it did make me smile a bit. "Is this a long question or a short one, because it's really kind of cold out here?"
"A short one, but get in the car anyway. I don't want your mother to hear it."
His eyes lit up. "Is it kinky?"
"You wish. Get in the car."
"I do wish." He bounded around and jumped inside. "I wish very much."
Let it never be said that Finn Hudson wasn't thinking with his dick at least 8 hours out of every 24. "Well, you'll just have to keep wishing. And close the door before we both freeze."
He did and leaned over so I could whisper to him. "What's the question?"
I felt blood rush to my face, and I regretted saying anything. How could I possibly phrase this to ensure the least amount of humiliation? "Umm…the condom? How come you used one when I didn't?" I was proud that I sounded neither whiny nor too bitchy.
"Oh." Finn made a face. "It's not because of where I was shoving my dick, if that's what you mean. It's just that…it's kind of gross. You know, afterwards."
Well that made exactly zero sense. "What's gross?"
He flushed darkly enough that I could see it even in the rapidly fading twilight. "You know….it."
It much have been obvious that I was still confused, because he sighed heavily. "Ok, apparently I have to just say it and not be classy and polite. It was super super gross after you did me when I could feel your spunk coming back out. There are places on your body that just shouldn't leak, and you ass is one of them. So I used a condom, because I know how you feel about gross and sticky things."
"How very chivalrous of you." It was also completely disgusting, but I couldn't say that he hadn't tried avoiding telling me.
"That's a good thing. It means all noble and wonderful. I know, because Rachel called me the same thing one time."
I couldn't help but lean over and kiss him again. "Tonight was perfect. Don't ever feel like you could be better, because you can't. I love you."
He grinned. "Dude, of course. I love you, too. And don't worry, I'll totally talk to Rachel and fix all of this. It's probably not as big of a deal as we think it is."
"Probably not." I didn't believe that for a second, but why spoil what was turning out to be a perfect moment? "I'll pick you up first thing tomorrow. Be ready on time and for God's sake eat something better then a pop tart."
We both knew that he wouldn't, but he nodded happily. "Ok, I'll see you then."
I waited until he was back in the house before I pulled out of the driveway. I'm not sure exactly what I think will happen to Finn in the 15 feet from my car to his front door, but trouble can find my boyfriend from a million miles away.
As soon as I was sure he was safe, I pulled out of the driveway and grabbed my phone. I didn't even need to look to click through my contacts and find the one I wanted. She picked up on the first ring. "Kurt, tell me everything."
"I…." I stopped there, because I had no idea what to say. I couldn't put what I had experienced into words. "Words fail me."
Mercedes laughed. "That would be a first. So I take it he topped this time?"
Of course I had told her all of my plans, since I needed some moral support to actually go through with it. Hey, Finn had Rachel, though I doubted he had gone into as much detail with her as I had with Mercedes. I may be relatively ignorant of the politics of heterosexual dating, but even I know that talking about having sex with your new boyfriend doesn't tend to go over too well with your ex-girlfriend. "He did." Even I could hear the lovesick sigh in my voice.
"From that puppy dog voice, I would say it went well." She was trying not to laugh again.
"You have no idea. Who would have thought that Finn Hudson was such a stud in bed?"
Certainly nobody who listened to Quinn Fabray.
I tried to think of how to explain what had happened. All my life I had considered sex to be something filthy, or, at best, shameful. By the way, I could directly attribute to the jocks and cretins of McKinley High. By the time I was old enough to understand how two men had sex, I had already heard years and years of jokes and disgusting comments about it. So I just pushed it all out of my mind. Sex was something I would worry about when I was older, like in my mid to late 20's.
Even when I first saw Finn, I didn't think about sex. I thought about making him my boyfriend constantly, but not in a real way. I supposed I was more like a preteen girl thinking about her first boyfriend. I doodled his initials in my notebooks, complete with hearts and flowers. I imagined holding his hand and going on romantic dates. I imagined kissing him, but not even with tongue. Apparently I thought I was living in a 1930's musical.
I tried not to acknowledge that sex existed, but sometimes my hormones got the better of me. When I was forced to do….that, I did it as quickly as possible, in the shower so I wouldn't have deal with any of the evidence or mess later. Even that made me feel dirty. It wasn't beautiful or wonderful or even really that pleasurable. It was just an unpleasant task to be taken care of, like using the toilet or shaving.
But since I had gotten Finn everything changed. Now when I touched myself, I felt his hands on my body, his eyes studying my every more. I had always thought of myself as cute, but never sexy until I saw it written all over Finn's face.
It was probably a good thing that I had learned to enjoy masturbating, because, with Finn around, I was doing it almost every single day just to prevent myself from doing something like mounting him in the choir room.
Ooh, I like that thought. Let's file it away for later.
I was not going to…oh, who was I kidding? There was a certain thrill at the thought of doing in the same room we practiced almost daily in. And in the auditorium. And on the football field.
And on Coach Sylvester's desk.
The sheer daring of that thought nearly made me gasp out loud. Granted, it was a completely unrealistic fantasy, since her office was locked with two separate keys at all times, but the thought, and the huge 'fuck you' message it would portray in more ways then one was so delicious that-
"Kurt!" Mercedes was giggling into the phone, so it probably wasn't the first time she had tried to get my attention. "Focus! I want details."
I was never sure how many details I should be giving, though. This wasn't just about me, it was about Finn, too, and I knew that he would be embarrassed to find out Mercedes knew how big his equipment was. Not that he had anything to be embarrassed about size-wise, but Finn can be surprisingly private about some things, and his body is one of them. He's not really a fan of the communal showers at school, even though he will use them, and he doesn't really like taking off his clothes in front of other people. I don't either, so I can empathize with that. "I can't give you the details of my sex life. It would be gross."
I could almost hear her eyes rolling through the phone. "I don't want the nasty sort of details. I just want to know how things went."
"Perfect." Other then a lack of pants and him forgetting the chocolate of course, but those were probably blessings in disguise. Finn should not be allowed to use anything hot, period, and I was not letting him pour scalding chocolate all over my body, particularly it's more southern regions. A trip to the ER was not sexy. "Believe it or not, Finn did everything right."
"I'm leaning towards not, because I've seen Finn in action, but oh well. Were there fireworks and choirs of angels and all of that shit? Was it the most special and wonderful thing that has ever occurred in the history of the planet?" She was doing her best to sound sarcastic, but I heard a slight undercurrent of sadness under it all.
Oh, right. Her first time hadn't been special. Noah Puckerman wasn't exactly the stuff choirs of angels were made of.
If Santana's to be believed, he's certainly the stuff fireworks are made of, though.
Well, Ms. Galinda, the only reason he was capable of such fireworks is because he's a total whore. Finn was capable of more then enough fireworks, without the STD's that I was sure accompanied Puck. And I would take Finn's goofy half-smile over Puck's smirk any day.
So we're in agreement, then. I love our Finn, too.
"It was perfect. But, Mercedes, there's someone out there for you, too and it will be perfect with them. So what if your first first time wasn't special? There will be plenty of other first times, with plenty of other guys, and those can be special." There, that was a pretty good speech to come up with on the fly, wasn't it?
A derisive snort came through the phone. "Just how many men do you think I plan on sleeping with? Puck was a…a….a statistical anomaly! The next one will be someone I love."
"And then it will be special." I was going to need to step back slowly from this one. After all, an agitated female was a dangerous, dangerous thing.
"Of course it will." Some of her old spark was returning. "After all, it doesn't get much more fabulous then me."
I couldn't let that one go. "Unless it's me, of course."
"Oh yes, how could I forget your utter fabulosity. More importantly, how can Finn?" Now she sounded like herself again.
"He can't. I wouldn't let him."
"You really love him, don't you?" She was back to sounding sad. No, sad wasn't right. It was more….wistful.
"Well, of course I do. You know how long I've been in love with him." Where was she going with this?
"Down, Cujo. But you need to be realistic. You weren't in love with Finn. You were in love with the idea of nailing the quarterback, just like everyone else." Her voice was gentle, which kind of made things worse.
"No I wasn't! I was in love with Finn for who he was!" Wasn't I? Of course I was. I was in love with his smile, and his walk and his body, and his-oh. Maybe Mercedes had a point.
"Really? Because you were hot for him before he spoke more then a few words and smiled at you once. Then you stalked him from a distance for a few months. I wouldn't exactly call that falling in love with his personality. So what if you fell in love with that gorgeous smile and oversized body? Apparently he's the total package."
With the perfect package.
I mentally snickered at that one. "He is the total package. I mean, I know he's kind of stupid, and clumsy as a baby calf, and he reads like a second grader. He's certainly not without flaws. But none of that matters. He's kind, and he always thinks the best of people, whether or not they deserve it. When he puts his mind to things, there isn't much he can't do. He doesn't get there the fastest, but he gets there in the end. And he's-"
"A demon in the sack? Just how big is that thing?" Now she was the one who was snickering.
"Big." 8.3 inches, to be exact, but that was something between Finn and I. I don't think he really understood why I wanted to measure it, but Finn will go along with just about anything, especially if I put my hand down his pants. "But you're right. As crazy as he's driving me right now, Finn is the total package, and I would to lost without him."
"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise? Did you catch him looking up Rachel's skirt?"
At least I didn't have to worry about that, thank Prada. When Finn wanted Rachel, he wanted her with a single minded intensity that bordered on obsession. Which was the main reason he and Rachel didn't work out. When you added his obsessions to her obsessions, it always ended in screaming and teary love songs. They were a pattern of dysfunction.
But when Finn was done with something he was done. He as no longer dating Rachel, but he was dating me, so now I was the object of his obsession. Ok, maybe it was still a little bit dysfunctional, but a sick part of me found it incredibly flattering. 6 billion people on the planet, and I was the one Finn wanted.
"No, he's really not that interested in her any more. She wants to be friends, and he's going for that. But he doesn't look at her like he looks at me." Not that there wasn't still a small part of me that was afraid that she would bat her eyelashes and blind him with a tight animal sweater, but I was getting over that. Really, she wasn't that bad as long as we weren't in competition for Finn.
Mercedes sighed. "We used to talk more."
The change in subject threw me. "What?"
"You and I. When we talked before, we really talked. Now everything's code words and not telling each other stuff. We're not honest any more."
"That's not true. I tell you everything that happens to me. But I can only tell you about me, not Finn. It's not fair for me to blab all of his secrets." I knew what she meant, though. Finn came with his own dramas and problems, and I had been a little caught up in the novelty of having him.
"You don't. It's alright, really. I mean, you have Finn now, and I'll have a man one day soon, too. After all, who could resist this amount of fabulous woman?"
It wasn't over. As flip as she sounded right now, I knew that her feelings had been hurt by my rejection. But it wasn't really a rejection was it? "No one. All we need is a battle plan. Pick a male Cheerio, and we'll make him yours by the end of the week."
She was quiet for a few beats too long. Then she came back on the line, her voice artificially happy. "The poor boy won't know what hit him."
Obviously I had said the wrong thing, but I didn't know how to make it right.
Try asking her.
"Mercedes? Are you alright? Do you want me to come over?" My father was expecting me, but maybe I could convince him to let me go over and comfort a friend.
"Yeah." This time when her voice brightened, it sounded less false. "I'm just being overdramatic, I guess. You enjoy your boy, and we'll worry about getting me one later, provided I don't strangle Coach Sylvester with her own megaphone cord."
"I'll either pull you off of her or help you dispose of the body."
When she giggled this time, it was like whatever thin, glass, wall was between us had shattered and she sounded like herself again. "Ok, I'll talk with you later."
Once we had both hung up, I just sat in the car, staring at the road ahead of me and thinking about the directions my life was turning in. In some ways, I thought Mercedes was the far stronger of the two of us. As much as I tried to claim otherwise, I let people push me around. Not just the hockey team, with whom I could at least use the excuse that they were far larger and stronger then I was. I let adults do the same thing with barely a whisper of complaint.
I could have fought Mr. Shue for my own solo, but I really hadn't. I had asked for it, and been turned down, but that was it. If I had wanted it so badly (and I had wanted it with all of my heart and soul), I should have been willing to fight harder instead of relying on my father to do it for me.
I had also let Coach Sylvester pick on both Mercedes and I today, and hadn't done a thing to defend either one of us. Mercedes wasn't willing to stand up to her either, but she was more then happy to remove herself from more abuse by quitting. Why wasn't I willing to do that?
Because, deep down, you're a people pleaser, Kurt. You don't care if everyone likes you, but you don't want them to hate you. It's why you bend over backwards for your father, and Coach Sylvester, and Finn. It's also why people like Sue Sylvester and Rachel Berry will make it farther then you will in show business.
My eyes smarted at that. I desperately wanted to succeed in this world, and now even the voice in my own head thought that Rachel Berry was going to do better then I was.
Of course she will. She'll win for the same reason that Sue does: she's willing to stomp on whomever it takes to ensure that's she gets her way. You don't succeed on Broadway, or in competitive cheerleading, by being gentle and kind and fair. You succeed by ruthlessly taking out your competition. You get to be top dog by destroying everyone beneath you. But is that the life you really want?
Yes. I wanted to be famous, so famous that everyone knew my name. Probably not on Broadway, because even I wasn't unrealistic (ok, egotistical) enough to think that there were a million roles for a guy with a body and voice like mine, but somewhere. I could do fashion. Then, when famous stars (Rachel Berry) were walking down the red carpet, everyone would look at them and know that they were wearing a Kurt Hummel original. I could be the next Vera Want or Alexander McQueen. If I had to be a bitch to do it, then I would.
Ok, then. If that's really what you want, we'll do it. I never said that you weren't capable of being that person, because we both know that you are. All you have to be willing to do is give in to your worst personality traits.
Sometimes Galinda gave me a headache. Do this, do that. Then it was don't do this, don't do that. Now she was telling me to do it myself, but I knew she would keep right on bitching about everything I did.
I paused, waiting for the inevitable indignant squawk, but nothing came. Having imparted her dubious wisdom, Galinda had decided to shut up and go do her hair or whatever she did when she wasn't bothering me.
Wherever (and whatever) she was, I wasn't going to dwell on it. I had a boyfriend who loved me, and I had just had sex with him for the second time, my first as a bottom. There was still part of junior year left, and all of senior one before I had to worry about these things. I could worry about Mercedes, and Rachel, and the future in the morning. Right now, I just wanted to reflect on how my night had been. Because, to use a Finn-ism? It was awesome!