Title: Hacking For My Heart
Word Count: 330 (First Chapter)
Summary: Kurt is a student and hacker at UC Berkeley. Blaine is an ex-student and hacker at Stanford, currently under house arrest and under careful watch of the government. Kurt has been asked to steal files for a company and Blaine is asked to prevent this, for his release.
A/N: Based On This Prompt:
To My Tumblr
LOCATION: UNIVERSITY CALIFORNIA AT BERKLEY, OFF CAMPUS HOUSING:
“Rise and shine.” A perky voice sang, as she walked into a dark bedroom, and pulled the curtains open.
“Ouch! Fuck, Rachel, you didn’t have to do that!” a high-pitched male voice hissed, as he shielded his eyes.
“How long have you been working on that program?” Rachel pointed to one of the four monitors set up on a long table that was functioning as a desk. Two desktop computers were under the table, with cords everywhere. A fifth computer, a laptop, was open on the desk, surrounded by keyboards, wires, mice, several empty cups of coffee, yesterday’s Vietnamese food boxes, several open bags of M&M minis, two tablets, a smartphone, and several iPods scattered about.
“WHAT?” The male asked loudly.
The girl reached over and pulled off the gigantic headphones covering her friend’s ears.
“I said- how long have you been working on this program?”
The boy rubbed his eyes and searched his desk for his glasses.
“Um… three… days?”
“And how much have you slept?”
The boy blinked.
“Kurt!” Rachel exclaimed.
“I know.” Kurt groaned.
“Are you going to the programmers meet up after class today?”
“If I finish this program, yes.”
“You should come!”
“What time does it start?”
“Check the messages boards.”
Kurt pushed his rolling chair over to the right side of the table and put his hands on home position of the other keyboard and opened a new tab in an Internet chat room.
Subject: Meet Up Time?
To: Berkley Programmers Meet Up
What time is the meet up today?
Star and I might be there.
“If you help me finish this code, then I’ll have time to sleep, and shower, because there’s no hell in way I’m going out looking like this.”
“Remind me again why you’re not studying fashion?”
“Because,” Kurt pushed himself back to the right- center monitor. “I love fashion, but I’m great at programming.”
- Current Location:My Apartment in Stormy Pennsylvania
- Current Mood: Stressed
- Current Music:Demons, Imagine Dragons
A/N: Anyway, here is the next installment and I hope that you like it! :D
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The chestnut haired boy pressed the corded landline his ear awkwardly. He didn't remember the last time that he had talked on a 'real' phone. This was the first time that he had a conversation on a phone outside of his daily meeting with his psychotherapist calling various people on speakerphone.
"Hello, this is Blaine." A male voice on the other end of the line said.
"Hi, Blaine… This is Kurt."
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Besides for my Sunday afternoon date with a latte and Calc. book?" The Dalton boy tried to joke.
The caller laughed awkwardly in response. "Do you have a lot of homework?" he asked.
"No more than usual. I'm beginning to think that Dalton enjoys torturing us with excessive practice homework problems."
"But you are ready for your test?"
Blaine blew out and made a fshhh noise. "I'll never be. But all of this drilling just isn't helping, either. We can't all be Wes."
"Math prodigy?" The chestnut haired boy asked.
"No. Just general overachiever." The raven- haired boy responded.
"Aren't all Dalton Academy boys overachievers?"
"Some more than others." Blaine responded truthfully.
"Not all animals are made equal." The Kurt mildly- joked back.
"Animal Farm." The raven- haired boy recognized the idea.
"I hated that book."
"Me too… Hey Kurt?"
"I really don't think that you give yourself enough credit. I've talked to you for something like an hour total talking time and I can tell that you are extraordinarily intelligent."
"You know what they say- genius and insanity go hand in hand." The moment that the words came out of the chestnut- haired boy's mouth, he regretted them. He didn't want the other boy to get ideas about his unstableness. Blaine didn't know the whole story and he didn't understand the whole story- and Kurt didn't need Blaine judging him before he knew the whole story- wait- did he want other boy to know the whole story?
"You're not insane."
"How would you know?"
"I've talked to you for an hour and I can tell that you're brilliant."
"Whose to say that I'm not insane as well?"
"Well, maybe you are."
"Maybe I'm not."
"Maybe," The raven-haired boy said back, "I just haven't had the chance to get to know you well enough yet."
"Maybe you have."
"I'd like it if I could get to know you better."
"I would, too."
"Would it be okay if I visited you?"
"Yes. I would like that."
"Hey, I'm sorry, but my phone time is almost up for the day and I have to cut you off." The chestnut haired boy said, feeling strangely disappointed that there was a 20 minute time limit on all out- going calls by patients.
"Don't worry about it… Were you serious about me visiting you?"
"Great. I'll call Green Meadows this week then."
"I'll be waiting to confirm your visit."
"See you Saturday, Kurt!"
"You too, Blaine."
And with that, the chestnut haired boy and the raven-haired boy hung up their respective phones.
"Hey, Kurt," Nurse Marie approached the chestnut haired boy from behind, slowly. She didn't want to frighten him and she knew how he still got shocked when people came up behind him. The nurse knew that it had to do with the bullying that the boy had been victim to back at his high school.
The boy flinched, but only a little bit. He turned around. "Hi, Nurse Marie."
"Who were you talking to?" she asked, not adding in extra questions or demanding to know answers. The chestnut- haired boy always liked that about her. She challenged him, but didn't need to know everything.
"My friend Blaine." The boy responded, a small expression that could have been mistaken for a smile appearing on his lips.
The nurse gave the teenage boy an all- knowing expression. "Anyway, Dr. Jackie said to remind you that you have an appointment in five minutes."
The boy thought of a witty response, but he refrained from saying anything after their conversation earlier that morning. He didn't want to give the nurse a hassle, when he knew that it wasn't her fault.
"Thanks for reminding me." The boy stood up and walked towards the doctor's offices areas. When he arrived at the third door on the right he paused and knocked softly on the door, so that he wouldn't feel the burn his wrists. Even though he had come to like the pain, all the dressing changes that the doctors would force him into if another stitch popper were a hassle.
"Come in!" A female voice called as the boy heard the shuffle of papers from behind a closed door.
The boy walked though the door. A thirty- something woman sat on a chair behind a table and look at papers. She peered over a pair of stylish glasses and looked up at the boy who had just entered her office. "Hi, Kurt."
"Hi, Dr. J."
"How are you today… and is that a slight smile on your face that I see?" the doctor asked.
"What do you think?" The boy challenged.
"Tell me about why you're smiing, Kurt." The doctor instructed, looking the teenager in the eye
"This weekend a singing group of boys from the Dalton Academy called the Warblers came and performed for us. I talked with one of the members named Blaine. It was awesome talking to a guy my own age, who's, you know, pretty normal."
The psychologist chuckled dryly. "Sometimes I forget that you're a teenager, you act so grown up sometimes."
"I had to act grown- up. It was what distinguished me from those Neanderthals back at McKinley."
"Speaking of McKinley…" The doctor trailed off as she waited for a groan. Any person who didn't want to talk about what they were about to talk about would groan, except foe the boy. "I know…" The doctor paused. "I'm sorry… But we have to talk about this eventually. And your dad is coming tomorrow, so it's best to have discussed this now than be surprised by our talk later. Surprises do no one any good."
"I know." The boy admitted, feeling small. He hated it when the doctors sometimes looked down on him like he was a small child. He was sure that they knew he was a mature adult, but sometimes, he supposed, when you were a doctor with such troubled patients for so long, it was hard not to after so many years. Still, it was no excuse.
"Have you thought about where you might want to go once you leave?"
"Not back to McKinley," The boy said without a moment's though. He had months to think about it, but that thought had not changed.
"And not anywhere in small town Ohio, that's for sure."
"What about other places?" The doctor asked.
"We've been through this, Dr. Jackie, Burt has his business, his wife, and his step- kid in Lima, I couldn't make them all move for me."
"What about moving to another school- it might be a drive- but you would be safe."
"I don't want to start at another school that might be safe. I don't care how much administrators talk- no where is as safe as they claim."
"What about grandparents? Aunts? Uncles?" The doctor suggested.
"I couldn't take that much from them. I'm already taking so much from Burt. I can't imagine how much financial burden my hospital bills are putting on him. Besides, if I live with them, then they'll have to know about everything. And who's to say that they'll be accepting of me?" The boy paused, then said, "Remind me again why I can't take online classes?"
"We've been through this, Kurt."
"I know- I need to function in the 'real world'- connect myself to people for the future."
"Speaking of strings- let's talk about them. You've mentioned your friend Mercedes. Let's talk about why you and her drifted."
"She was one of my closest friends- at times my only friend- but I didn't want her to get attached. I didn't want the bullies to hurt her by association with me- I'm not worth that much. And when I finally made the decision to leave this place, I didn't want her hurting."
"Don't you think that you hurt her when you severed her friendship? Don't you think that you hurt her when you tried to kill yourself?"
"Thanks for the self- esteem boost, Doc," The boy said, dripping with sarcasm.
"Yes, but I think that I would have hurt her more if she was attached. She'd have even more regrets that way."
"What about your acquaintance, Rachel? You've mentioned her before. Did you detach from her, as well?"
"I wasn't as attached to her, like I was to Mercedes. We sang together and sometimes worked on things together, but it wasn't like it was with Mercedes."
The doctor nodded. "And how do you think that Rachel took it?"
"Rachel is tough. She gets bullied a lot at school for many different reasons, but she knows who she is. It would have been hard on her, but she would have gotten through."
The doctor nodded again. "You've made a lot of progress. You really do have an good understanding of what repercussions your actions have or might have had on others."
Kurt looked around. Complements were awkward for him. He hadn't received many in his life- especially since his mom died- and she always complemented him and thanked him for helping her.
Things were different at McKinley.
Correction: Things were fucked up at McKinley.
It was survival of the fittest. Bullies would always be bullies, tadpoles might turn into frogs, but at the end of the day the bullies would still be that kid who snatched up frogs from the pond and tortured them to death after stabbing them with a stick.
The teachers witnessed violence every day and never did anything about it.
Teachers claimed that death threats would get bullies suspended or expelled, but they were rarely taken seriously. How could daily slushy facials, being dumped in the dumpsters, and getting smashed against your friend and then into lockers be taken seriously if death threats weren't? Surely, faculty had seen the attacks. The chestnut- haired boy thought that they were all cowards.
Kurt thought Mercedes and Rachel were brave- they still braved McKinley- and with few friends and little happiness. The boy couldn't handle it- or maybe he could for a while- but then he snapped. That's what the boy detail- oriented boy hated- not knowing exactly what made him snap. Maybe, some day he could write a memoir, analyze the data, and make up his mind. Until then, he would have to live with his never- ending questions.
A/N: This was written in response to a prompt on the Glee_Fluff_Meme requesting Stevie and Stacey fluff. This is my response. It’s a tad bit dark, but also sweet. I hope that you like it!
Disclaimer: I don’t own Glee, the characters, or anything else referenced.
“Any minute now.” Sam said, as the comb got stuck in a in a matted tangled in his sister’s fine blonde hair.
“Ouch!” Stacey exclaimed, kicking her legs back and forth from her position on the end of the bed, making it harder for Sam, who was sitting cross-legged behind her, to get the knot out.
“Try to stay still for two more minutes, please.” Sam asked slightly annoyed, but as gently as he could, as he heard two soft knocks on the door.
“Quinn!” Stacey leapt off the bed and ran to the door.
“Don’t open it.” Sam instructed.
“Remember what Mommy and Daddy told us about this not being as safe of a place as the house was.”
Stacey looked up, as if she was trying to remember. “Yes.”
“Good. I don’t want you little rascals to get hurt,” Sam stood jumped off the bed and followed his sister to open the door.
Sam looked out the peephole and then with a small sigh of relief, opened the door.
“Hi,” Sam opened the door to a cheerleader holding what looked like gray tool kits with handles in each hand.
“Quinn!” Stacey tackled the older blonde with a hug.
“Hey, sweetie,” Quinn smiled. “How’re you?”
“Good! Do you like my pajamas?” she held her arms out so Quinn could get a good look at the bright pink High School Musical pajamas.
“They’re cute! I like the pink.”
“What’s in the boxes?” A blonde boy in blue Mario pajamas asked, appearing behind his sister and brother.
“Maybe if you both brush your teeth, I’ll show you.” Quinn challenged.
“Promise?” Stevie asked, wide eyes looking like Sam’s when he got excited about something especially geeky.
“Promise.” Quinn said with a straight and serious, yet playful face.
The siblings dashed to the bathroom in what could have been considered a race.
Sam couldn’t help but smile- he liked that despite all of the recent changes in his and his family’s’ lives, at least one thing remained the exact same.
“What’s in the boxes?” Sam asked.
“When I was little, one of my friends gave me a box with my name written on it special paint markers inside to decorate the box any way that I wanted. Also in the box, were things such as small games, beads, string, and candy- I thought that they might appreciate something like that.”
“You didn’t have to do that on top of everything else-“ Sam tried to protest.
“Most of the stuff I had around the house anyway, I swear.”
Stacey and Stevie ran out of the bathroom.
“All brushed up?” Sam asked.
“Uh-huh.” Stevie nodded.
“Breathe.” Sam demanded, as Stevie then Stacey huffed on his face.
“All clean.” Sam announced to Quinn with a all-knowing adults expression in his eyes, which the cheerleader caught.
Quinn walked over to the bed and set down the two gray boxes.
“Okay,” Quinn announced as Stacey and Stevie jumped up on the bed and clung to her sides, “This box is Stacey’s,” she handed a box with ‘Stacey’ written in hot pink, “And this one is Stevie’s’,” Quinn handed a box to the young boy with his name written on it in lime green.
Stevie rushed to open his.
“Not so quickly, bud,” Sam set his hand down on the top of Stevie’s box. “Not until Quinn says that you can.”
“But-“ Sam glared and the younger box huffed with a shake of his head.
Quinn pulled her canvas bag off of her shoulder and opened it. She brought out a Zip Lock bag.
“Are those markers?” Stacey asked, eying the bag.
“They’re special markers,” Quinn explained. “They’re called paint markers and you can decorate your boxes with them any way you want.”
Stacey jumped, as Quinn opened the bag.
“Be careful with the markers.” Quinn warned.
“Mommy and Daddy will get mad if they get all over the blankets.” Sam added, using the ‘higher authority’ card.
The kids nodded vigorously.
“Quinn, will you help me draw a heart, please?” Stacey thrust a pink marker into Quinn’s hand.
“Sam, how do you spell Mario?”
“M- A- R-“
“Sorry, bud. M-A-R”
“Uh huh.” The boy nodded.
“Thanks.” The boy capped the marker and went searching for a red one.
The younger kids continued to color their boxes. After twenty minutes or so, Stacey nuzzled Quinn’s side, losing interest in painting the box. “Can we open them now?” Stacey asked.
“What’s the magic word, Stac?” Sam asked.
Stacey looked down. “Please?
Quinn looked over at the younger boy. “All done, Stevie?”
Stevie looked up. “Uh huh.”
“Okay, good.” Quinn smiled at the two kids. “See the clear lids on hinges on the top? You guys can open them.”
Stacey opened her lids and found various different types of ponytails and an array of colored berets.
Stevie opened his and found various green army men.
Sam raised an eyebrow at Quinn.
“They’re from a model project that I did in like the fourth grade.” Quinn explained.
“Look!” Stevie held up a green army man. “This one has a parachute! Can I take him outside?!”
“How about tomorrow after school,” Sam suggested, though it was more of a statement.
“O-kay,” Stevie sighed dramatically with a huff.
Quinn and Sam chuckled.
“Always remember to close the top lids before opening the big lid on hinges, because otherwise everything falls out.” Quinn instructed as the kids followed her directions.
Stacey opened the buckle lock on her box to see a tray with a hairbrush, a bottle of detangler, and a pack of watercolor paints. The little girl nuzzled her face into Quinn’s arm. Quinn put her opposite hand on the girl’s head.
“Speaking of which-“ Quinn stroked the matted tangles, “I think that we should brush your hair.”
“But it hurts.” Stacey protested.
“That’s why I brought a bottle of hair detangler.” Quinn told the girl as she picked up the bottle. “Turn around.” She instructed, as the girl did what she was told. Quinn picked up the hairbrush and squirted the girl’s hair several times. “The trick-“ Quinn began stroking the ends gently, “Is to start at the ends and work your way up.” The cheerleader glanced at Sam, who glared back.
To Quinn’s side, Sam and Stevie opened up Stevie’s box to see a tray with a pack of 68 colored crayons, a pack of already-opened Pokémon cards, and a faded neon yellow softball.
Stevie didn’t notice that the pack of cards were already opened and pulled them out immediately. “Charizar!” he exclaimed and looked at Sam, “He’s my favorite!” the boy turned towards Quinn. “He breathes fire.”
“Cool.” Quinn smiled, not really sure what to say in response to Pokémon cards, but Sam seemed to, because he was in a debate with Sam over which Pokémon was better.
Quinn continued to brush Stacey’s hair and then patted her head. “All done!” Quinn announced and handed the brush to Stacey who set it on the bed.
“Put it back in the tray so you don’t lose it,” Sam instructed and Stacey obliged.
“Do you see the handle in the middle?” Quinn asked. “I want you to pull it up.”
The kids pulled up on the handles and the trays came out.
Stacey found a Barbie coloring book, an two Amelia Bedilia books, a Meet Molly American Girl Doll book, and Zip Lock bag filled with various cartridges.
“Meet Molly was my favorite book when I was your age,” Quinn told Stacey. “I think that you’ll like it too.”
“What’re the cartridges for?” the little girl asked, puzzled.
Sam shot Quinn a confused look.
“I think that Stevie has to look at his for it to make sense.”
Stevie looked inside his box. He found a small, black baseball mitt about his size, a Henry and Mudge book, and a Chronicles of Narnia book, and an old, purple, Gameboy SP.
Sam looked up at Quinn who shrugged and mouthed later, as the twins investigated the electronic gadget.
“It’s a Gameboy!” Stevie exclaimed. “It’s an older kind of my old one… Mommy had to sell it, though.” He frowned.
“Me too.” Stacey frowned, then looked down at the plastic bag.
“They’re games!” Stevie shouted and grabbed the bag from his sister.
“Hey! Those were mine!”
“Hey!” Sam called over his younger siblings. “This is how it’s gonna go- whoever has the Gameboy doesn’t get the games unless they’re playing the game. Old rules apply- you each are allowed to play the Gameboy for 20 minutes a day after homework is done. Okay?”
“Capiche!” Stacey and Stevie exclaimed.
“Where did you guys learn that word?” Quinn asked curiously.
“In school.” Stacey replied.
“There’s a Barbie game!” Stacey held up a hot pink game.
“And a Nemo one!”
“I played that one before!” Stevie exclaimed.
“I did, too!”
“It was easy!”
“It was easy!” Stacey echoed her brother.
“Indoor voices, guys,” Sam reminded the younger blondes.
“Sorry, Sammy!” Two voices exclaimed, nearly in sync.
“Can we play it now?” Stacey asked, looking up at Sam and Quinn with puppy eyes.
Quinn might have agreed, but Sam seemed to look past the bug eyes. “It’s 9PM, which means that it’s bedtime.”
“But-“ Stevie tried to protest.
“No buts- when Mommy and Daddy get home, you want me to tell them that you’ve listened to me, right.”
“Right.” Stacey sighed.
Quinn put the trays back in the boxes and them closed and locked them, before taking them over to the table and setting them down there.
“Now off the bed so I can pull down the covers.” Sam tugged down on the blankets as his brother and sister scurried off the bed.
Sam pulled down the covers.
“Hop in, guys.” Sam called as he chased after them. He snatched up Stevie and playfully tossed him onto the bed. Then, in another swift motion he snatched up Stacey and tossed her next to their brother.
Stacey went under the covers first and then Stevie followed soon after. They left enough space for Sam to join them on one side later.
Quinn reached over and pulled the blankets up to their chins.
“Not too high!” Stacey squeaked.
“Is the nightlight on?” Stacey asked, asking for her and her brother, who thought that he was too old for a nightlight- but Stacey knew better.
Quinn crouched down and flicked the switch on the shell nightlight.
“You’re going to sing us a song, right Sammy?” Stevie asked, looking over at his brother.
“Swing Low?” Stacey asked and paused for a moment. “You forgot hugs ‘n kisses!” The little girl jumped out of the covers and attacked Sam with a massive hug. Then, she reached over and kissed Sam sloppily on the cheek. He kissed her gently back.
Stevie followed his sister and jumped into his brother’s arms from the bed. Sam spun his brother around in a bear hug, then set him down. Sam ruffled Stevie’s hair.
Stacey then turned to Quinn.
On top of the bed, Stacey stood a few inches shorter than Quinn. Stacey went over to Quinn and hugged her tightly. Quinn was surprised by the little girl’s strength. The little girl then kissed Quinn sloppily on the cheek. Quinn kissed the girl on the cheek in response.
Stevie followed his sister over to Quinn and did the same.
“Can you guys tell Quinn thank you for the boxes?” Sam asked.
“Thank you!” Stacey called as Stevie called, “Thank you, Quinn!”
Quinn chuckled awkwardly. “Your welcome.”
“Okay, now it’s time to get back in bed,” Sam instructed as the kids groaned. “Sam picked up Stacey and Quinn followed and picked up Stevie. Sam set Stacey down on the bed and Quinn followed with Stevie. Sam pulled up the covers and reached over and tugged on bedside table lamp cord and the light went off.
“Want help singing?” Quinn asked softly.
Even in the dark, Quinn could see Sam’s tentative nod ‘yes’.
“Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home.” Sam began.
“Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.” Quinn joined in.
“I looked over Jordan, and what did I see
Coming for to carry me home?
A band of angels coming after me,
Coming for to carry me home.
Sometimes I'm up, and sometimes I'm down,
(Coming for to carry me home)
But still my soul feels heavenly bound.
(Coming for to carry me home)
The brightest day that I can say,
(Coming for to carry me home)
When Jesus washed my sins away.
(Coming for to carry me home)
If I get there before you do,
(Coming for to carry me home)
I'll cut a hole and pull you through.
(Coming for to carry me home)
If you get there before I do,
(Coming for to carry me home)
Tell all my friends I'm coming too.
(Coming for to carry me home)”
“Night rascals,” Sam said softly into the darkness as he made his way over to the door, careful not to trip on shoes, clothes, or food cans. Slowly, Sam opened the door and a dim light from outside flooded in. Quinn followed the light and Sam out to the front. Slowly, Sam closed the door, wincing when it squeaked, hoping that it wouldn’t wake his brother and sister.
“Where did the Gameboy come from?” He whispered loudly, testing his voice now that he was outside.
“Mrs. McDonald at church gave it to me to give to Stacey and Stevie. She said that Jamie hadn’t touched it since he got a new one for his birthday and said that the rascals might appreciate it more.”
“I’ll thank her on Sunday."
“How are you holding up, Sam?” Quinn asked softly.
Sam shrugged. “I’m fine.” The teenager paused. “They’re too young to understand fully, but they know that our house got taken away, you know?” he paused. “Kids over hear things and they know more than we think that they do.”
“They do.” Quinn bit her lip and agreed.
Slowly, she reached her arms around the boy’s shoulders and rested her head on his shoulders.
“Thanks.” Sam bit away his emotions, too drained to say much else, “For putting the boxes together.” The boy took in Quinn’s body warmth and felt a comfort like a class of warm milk when he couldn’t sleep.
“It’s the least that I could do.” Quinn said and left her words at that.
“Thank you, Quinn… Drive safe.” Sam said softly, as the cheerleader smiled gently and walked towards her car.
Sam watched Quinn walk to her car, making sure that she didn’t get interrupted by any of the sometimes-shady people who hung around the motel, especially at night.
A minute or two later, Quinn drove out of the gravel parking lot and Sam made his way back inside. He closed the door, locked it and then chained it.
Sighing, he sat down on his parent’s bed and turned on their bedside table light. He picked up his English reading and began to read slowly.
The past few months had been bitterly painful. The past few weeks hadn’t been much better. This day had been bad, but it could have been worse. Maybe, tomorrow would be ever so slightly better. He wanted to see if it would be.
- Current Music:Circle, Harry Chapin
A/N: I'm sorry about the AVPM references... it was kind of hard to resist... ^_^
Music, Love, and Other Healing Drugs: Chapter 4: Redvines and Learning Times
The curly, raven-haired boy turned around, Redvine dangling between his teeth. He gripped the candy and yanked out the half that wasn't in his mouth and dropped his fingers holding it to his side. The boy swallowed and blushed.
"Thanks." The curly haired boy grinned. "It's one of my favorites, too."
"Not to mention the Warbler's rendition of Bad Romance … Oh my Gaga, it was fabulous!"
The curly haired boy continued to grin. "Thanks. I take it you're a Gaga fan?"
The chestnut haired boy scoffed. "Of course!"
"What's your favorite song?"
"Are you going to make me decide?"
"Do you want to decide?" The raven-haired boy challenged back.
"Just Dance. You?"
"Speechless? I mean, I know it doesn't have a beat like her others. But her speech about douchebags that she does at her concerts is totally awesome."
"No, I understand. Speechless shows how musically she is technically." The chestnut haired boy agreed.
"And what about the calling of her fans 'Little Monsters'?" The curly haired boy made quotes with his fingers.
The chestnut haired boy paused for a moment. He was quick witted. He was used to thinking about what he said. He was used to having people stare at him when he began to talk about Lady Gaga. He had never had a full- on conversation with another man about Lady Gaga before.
In that moment, the chestnut haired boy wasn't sure if he should have closed his mouth or continued to debate the subject with his new (hot) acquaintance that he was talking with.
"Hi, I'm Kurt."
"Blaine." The curly haired boy stuck out his hand and the chestnut haired boy accepted it.
The chestnut haired boy tried not to look down at the bandages on his wrists and the crimson that would be seeping through them a layer deep. Even though he knew that he was wearing a long sleeved shirt, he felt as though he could have waved his arms in front of everyone if he felt the need to make his wrists more obvious. He hoped that by not making a big deal out of his wrists, the other boy wouldn't either.
"It's nice to meet you." Said the chestnut haired boy.
From across the room, the chestnut haired boy saw his tall, bombshell blonde friend motioning her index fingers up from her lips.
"You too." The raven-haired boy agreed.
"I think that your friend has been talking to my friend, Wes."
"Lily?" The chestnut haired boy asked, looking at his blonde friend and the boy standing next to her. "Yes, she's boy crazy."
"Wes is kinda girl crazy."
The chestnut haired boy and the raven-haired boy looked at each other and smirked.
"Can I get everyone's attention, please?" Dr. Blue spoke into a microphone on a stand on the stage at the front of the room.
Kurt and Blaine turned their heads towards the doctor.
"Please take the next minute or so to find a seat if you're not seated." Up here, I've got Toy Story 3 and Avatar. We're going to a vote, so when I say the movie that you want to watch, please raise your hand and keep it up until I can get a count."
Dr. Blue looked around the room and raised the Avatar DVD case. "Avatar." Several people raised their hands and Dr. Blue counted them. Dr. Blue then raised the Toy Story 3 DVD case in his other hand. "Toy Story 3."
Kurt looked around casually. Not in a way that said he was obviously checking how everyone else was voting, but more like he was seeing many red- blurred arms shoot up from the corner of his eyes when the children's movie title was said.
"Do Dalton boys love Disney movies or something?" Kurt leaned over and whispered to his new friend.
Blaine glanced around him to make sure that no elders or Warbler council members were around him, so that he wouldn't get in trouble when he spoke. "Totally."
"They don't think they're too old for them?" Kurt asked, trying to imagine anyone but Tina from his Glee club watching a Disney movie while not babysitting.
Blaine pretended to scoff quietly. "Never!" Blaine paused. "I mean, with so much stress put on us to perform well in school, extra- curricular activities, and life in general, we need an outlet that doesn't require too much brainpower, yet the movie is still interesting and fun."
Kurt nodded. He liked that thought.
"Well, the people have voted and it looks like we'll be watching Toy Story! Dr. Blue said into the microphone.
The curly raven-haired boy grinned like a five year old whose mom let them have a candy bar before dinner on a school night.
The projector turned on and the movie began to play on the blank, white wall behind the state. "Enjoy, everyone!" Dr. Blue called with a smile.
The raven-haired boy thought that Dr. Blue smiled a lot and laughed a lot. He thought that it was a strange thing to do in a place so solemn. The raven- haired boy wondered if it was because if the doctors couldn't laugh, they would cry. The raven- haired had learned to cope the same way.
The movie began.
Kurt rolled his eyes. Kids movies were dumb. They were idealistic and told kids to think that only good things happened in life. But it took Kurt less time than it took for Woody to start talking about all of the toys that Woody and the gang lost along the way, for the movie to catch the chestnut haired boy's attention.
By the time the toys were running from the kiln, Kurt leaned over. His hands were up near his face and he stuck his nails in his mouth momentarily, before he realized that he didn't want to ruin his nail beds.
The raven-haired boy leaned over and chuckled. "I told you that kid's movies were intense."
"I guess I haven't watched one in so long that I distorted my view on them, even though I had no evidence to back up my thoughts." The chestnut haired boy admitted.
The leggy blonde leaned over. "You just stayed because you liked Blaine," the girl whispered in the boy's ear.
"That's why I sat down, but it's not why I stayed." The chestnut haired boy whispered intensely back into his friend's ear, slightly annoyed by the blonde's comment. The blonde, more than most anyone, should have known that not everything was about love. There was so much more to every situation than romantic love- there was much more than chemicals distorting in the brain to cause a temporary reaction to something- there had to be. That was what distinguished humans from animals- at least that's what he liked to think- some humans, like most of the ones at his high school, still had herd instinct.
"Hey, do you want to get some more snacks?" The raven-haired boy asked the chestnut haired boy sensing tension, as her slowly stood up and stretched.
"Sure," The chestnut haired boy agreed, standing up slowly, and followed the raven-haired boy to the snack table.
Kurt sighed calmly. He was had all of the points needed to leave the place- he didn't need more problems- with a person he considered his friend nonetheless. Not to mention that he didn't want this guy, who although seemed cool, was an outsider.
"Are you okay?" The raven- haired boy asked, turning around to the boy who was behind him. He worried that he wouldn't say the right words- that some things were awkward to a person in a hospital.
Kurt looked away. After lying and telling people that he was okay for so long, he was trying to learn to tell the truth again. "If I can't handle the world inside of Green Meadows, how could I possibly handle the world outside of this place?" Kurt asked, looking directly into Blaine's eyes.
"Maybe," the raven-haired boy suggested, "You don't give yourself enough credit. "I think that you are surrounded by a lot of troubled people in here- good- but troubled. In the outside world I think that a lot more people know coping methods. The people are here for a reason- not always because they need to be here- but they are."
"Warblers, can I get your attention, please?" Wes called, clapping his hands together twice.
Blaine and Kurt turned their heads towards the Warbler's co- captain who was talking into the microphone at the front of the room.
"Our bus is waiting outside and your parents are expecting you all back by 10 PM, so we're going to have to wrap up. We would like to thank Dr. Blue for helping us organize our visit. We would also like to thank Green Meadows for allowing us to visit." Wes clapped his hands in applause and Blaine and David followed Wes in leading the applause.
The raven- haired boy turned back to the chestnut- haired boy. "Looks like I have to leave now, but I'd like to finish our conversation…" the boy trailed off, hoping that the other boy would have an idea about how they could finish their discussion.
"Visitors are allowed Saturday afternoons." The chestnut- haired boy offered. "You just have to call ahead and tell them my name and then they will ask me to confirm that I want to see you. That's how it works for non- facility regulated visits."
"I'm Blaine Anderson." The raven- haired boy offered.
"Kurt Hummel." The chestnut- haired boy offered back.
"Here," The raven- haired boy reached into his back and pulled out a fine- tipped permanent marker from the side pocket of his messenger bag that was hanging across his body. The raven- haired boy un-capped his pen and slowly reached for the chestnut- haired boy's hand. He gently turned over the chestnut haired boy's hand and gripped his palm as he wrote his number down on his hand.
The chestnut haired boy looked at the number on his palm and smiled to himself before tugging down on the long sleeved shirt, as his sleeves were riding up.
"I'll call you sometime this week." The chestnut- haired boy said.
"Hear from you soon, then." The raven- haired boy offered a comforting, re- assuring, closed- mouthed smile as he turned away.
"Talk to you soon!" The chestnut- haired boy called as he waved goodbye.
It wasn't until the chestnut- haired boy was under his clean, pressed white, starched sheet that night, would he think about what the raven- haired boy had said. Maybe didn't give himself enough credit. But maybe the world that he was from just wasn't for him. Maybe, there was a world that was, but it wasn't back at McKinley High School. The chestnut- haired boy knew that for sure. He just didn't know where to go from Green Meadows Mental Health Hospital.
- Current Location:chair, legs propped up on the heater?
- Current Music:Make Up Your Mind/ Catch Me I'm Falling, Next To Normal
Music, Love, and Other Healing Drugs: Chapter 3: The Visitor(s)
The chestnut haired boy entered the room with his tall, long haired, blonde friend at his side.
"They're fine together. I just prefer the Ken/ Blake storyline." The chestnut haired boy replied, his voice just as hushed.
"The Ken/ Blake storyline is interesting." The girl admitted. "But isn't it kind of hard for you to watch?" The girl asked, knowing that the boy had experienced a lot of emotional and physical abuse from his peers because he was gay, just as the character Ken in Showchoir! did.
"Sometimes." The boy admitted. "But I like that Hollywood has finally written an out and proud character on such a publicized show for teens to look up to. And Char Connor seems like a pretty amazing guy too." The boy said, referring to the actor who played Ken.
"And adorable. And kinda hot." The girl added dreamily.
"That too." The boy smiled softly, an odd facial expression for him in recent months.
"Where do you want to sit?" The girl asked, looking around the large room.
The friends had entered through two large doors at the top of the room. From their view, they could see forty or fifty foam chair dispersed around the room with low tables in between them.
At the bottom of the room, they could see a low stage, with a group of twenty or so boys in identical, monogrammed and school crested imprinted jackets; clean collared shirts; perfectly tailored pants; and polished black shoes sitting on the edge of the stage. The chesnut haired boy thought that they looked extremely stylish and felt the urge to compliment them, something that he had done little of since arriving at Green Meadows Psychiatric Hospital.
The boy shrugged. He no longer looked around the room in search of the safest seat to sit in. He no longer looked for large jocks in bright red letterman jackets laughing together, who needed someone to pick on to make up for their own pleasure to make up for their own pain. The chestnut haired boy only looked for people he recognized or the place where he would have the best view of the stage.
"How about over there," The girl pointed to a chair towards the middle of the room on the side. "You can sit in the chair and I can sit at your feet, and you can play with my hair."
"Sounds good." The boy agreed, remembering how things were back at his high school before things got complicated between him and his Glee club mates.
The boy remembered how he used to help his Glee club mates and cheer squad mates with their hair before shows and how he would sometimes play with a cheerleader named Brittany's hair when they had extra time. Brittany was slow and she didn't always make sense when she talked, but she had a heart of gold and could dance like no other. The boy bit his tongue and tried to focus on the conversation that he was having- he didn't want to think about what the people in his extra- curricular activities probably thought of him now or how things ended between them.
The chestnut haired boy sat down in the chair. The blonde crossed her legs and sat down and leaned against his legs. He lifted up his friend's hair as she handed him a couple of hair bands. He set them on his lap. The boy ran his fingers through his friend's hair and all of his worries went away- it was a therapy unlike the cosmetic rituals he used to do every night that were more like a form of OCD. This was simply relaxing.
"I used to pull it out, you know." The girl told him. "You can see that it's messed up at the roots. I'm the only girl I know whose used men's hair growth formulas." The girl chuckled dryly. "I had these bald spots after my anxiety got bad the first time, before I was diagnosed BiPolar. My mom started yelling. God there was so much yelling. She gave me all of these shampoos- she didn't want her debutant ugly."
"You're not ugly." The boy told his friend truthfully, but the words were awkward in his mouth. Few words that weren't cynical sounded natural in his mouth anymore.
"All of the boys thought that I was a slut- and I kind of was- but it was because I didn't know what else to do. And they would all take me because I was 'sexy', but I really just wanted them to tell me that I was 'pretty'." The girl looked around the room, nervous to see the reaction on the boy's face. "Is that too much to ask for?"
The boy released his friend's hair and leaned down to hug her.
"I hope that we're friends when we get out of here." The girl told the boy.
"We wouldn't be friends in the real world," The boy said, his voice slightly bitter, but not mean. He just spoke the words because they were true- both teens knew that they were.
"I know. But it would still be cool to know another person who knew you in your darkest hour once we get out."
"That's kind of cliché." The boy pointed out.
"It is." The girl agreed as the boy went back to playing with the girl's hair.
"Hello everyone." A man in a doctor's coat, who the boy recognized as Dr. Blue said in a microphone at the front of the room. "As most of you know, we have some guests today. They are the Dalton Academy Warbler's and they are here to sing a set list, then if they want, they're invited to join us for movie night, since it is Friday."
The chestnut haired boy clapped, his blonde friend clapped, and most of the other patients, as well as the doctors and nurses who were looking on did too.
"Hi, everyone, we're the Warblers and we're here to sing some songs. The first song that we're going to sing is Lady Gaga's Bad Romance."
"Oh... my... GaGa..." The chestnut haired boy mumbled under his breath.
"What?" The blonde haired girl asked.
"A group of boys are shamelessly singing Lady Gaga, that's what!"
"I think it's because you just moved here from San Francisco that you don't understand this, but guys singing a song traditionally sung by girls is a big thing in Ohio!"
The blonde shrugged as the chestnut haired boy yanked on one of the stands of his friends' hair just a little bit harder than necessary."
"That hurt!" The blonde poured.
"The next song that we're going to sing is The Barenaked Ladies' When I Fall."
"I look straight in the window,
try not to look below
Pretend I'm not up here,
try counting sheep
But the sheep seem to shower
off this office tower
Nine-point-eight straight down
I can't stop my knees."
The Asian looking Warbler who introduced the group sang
"I wish I could fly
From this building,
from this wall
And if I should try,
Would you catch me if I fall?"
The black curly haired boy who the blonde girl and the chestnut haired boy were looking at earlier sang.
The song finished and people in the room clapped.
"I love that song." The blonde turned around and twisted her hair as her friend released her hair. "My daddy used to play it all the time when I was little. He loved that kind of music."
Kurt nodded. "That's awesome. We used to sing classics in my Glee Club, but never softer stuff like that. Except that one time this deuce jock Puck knocked up the cheer captain and sang her this song called Beth. I think that was whine we realized that he wasn't a total deuce."
"Glad that you guys liked that song... It's a solemn song, so now were going to lighten up the mood with..." The black curly haired boy paused dramatically and grinned. "Katy Perry's Teenage Dream."
The curly haired boy opened his mouth and began to sing. Kurt couldn't find weds to describe what he was feeling but a small smile captured his face, his muscles aching, he hadn't smiled in so long.
The curly haired boy looked towards the chestnut haired boy as he sang.
"He's looking at you!" The blonde haired girl exclaimed to her friend in a hushed voice.
"He could be looking at you," The chestnut haired boy replied, liking, but not being used to the concept of another boy looking at him.
"No, I know when a boy is looking at me... And he's def. looking at you." The blonde told her friend.
"He's looking again!"
"Then smile!" The blonde instructed.
Teenage Dream ended and a boy of average height and boyish looks stepped out of the middle row. The chestnut boy supposed he was a freshman.
"Uh, hi... This song is about this boy who wants to tell everyone in his life about his closet romantic relationship with his best friend, but it's not exactly what his best friend wants. It's called Role of a Lifetime."
The freshman opened his mouth.
"Everything's an act,
When you're pleasing everyone.
And he assumes that role
To such renown.
He plays a perfect part,
Straight from his heart
Knowing the risk he takes
And hoping that the house
Is not brought down.."
The role of a lifetime is living a fantasy.
The trauma that you struggle to erase.
Thoughts battle words over deeds
A war with such casualties.
All played out behind a smiling face..."
"They are singing Bare: A Pop Opera!" The chestnut haired boy exclaimed to his friend.
"I love the lyrics." His friend agreed.
"No, they're singing Bare!" the chestnut haired boy exclaimed again, but the blank expression that he received in response frustrated him.
It was times like these that the chestnut haired boy wished that Rachel was here. His step- brother's girlfriend was often annoying, obnoxious, and almost entirely lacked social skills all together, but she did know musical theatre, and he did enjoy watching musicals and singing with her. He could stand her. Maybe, it she didn't think that he was entirely crazy after everything, he would talk to her if he ever left Green Meadows...
"Bare is a story about these students coming of age at a Catholic boarding school. The main character Jason doesn't want anyone to know that he is gay. Meanwhile, his roommate and sometimes lover, does, because his room ate Peter knows who he is. It's both controversial and tragic; not to mention that the music is amazing."
The blonde nodded and clapped with the rest of the room for the freshman after he finished the song.
"Well," The black, curly haired boy said, we have one more song for you. Then, well join you for movie night." He said and pointed to a cart full of beverages and snacks being rolled into the backup of the room. "This last song is called Part of Your World."
The chestnut haired boys mouth dropped and his friend giggled as the song began.
The song ended and the group bowed. Then, the group orderly filed out of their lines.
The chestnut haired boy stood up and offered the blonde haired girl a hand. The girl accepted the hand to stand up but pulled it from the boy's before anything of the Green Meadow's staff could see.
The girl nudged the boy in the side and populated to the curly brunette grabbing a water bottle and fist full of Redvines off of the table of snacks and beverages put out for everyone in the room for the movie that the hospital was about to play.
"Go over and talk to him!" the girl ordered.
The chestnut haired boy nervously made his way across the room and stopped at the water bottles, next to where the curly haired boy stood.
The chestnut haired boy took a deep breath and prepared the words that he would say to ensure that his words wouldn't come out garbled. The chestnut haired boy had a sharp wit, but he didn't want to make a fool out of himself. Besides, didn't even know what the curly, blacked haired boy (with piercing haze eyes that he could see once he was up close) would think of a patient in Green Meadows. "I just wanted to tell you that the song selections were great. I especially liked how the Warbler's sang Role of a Lifetime. Bare is one of my favorite musicals."
G-d, the chestnut haired boy thought, I sound like Rachel.
A/N: To be continued...
- Current Music:I Miss The Mountains, Alice Ripley, Next To Normal Soundtrack
Title: Music, Love, And Other DrugsAuthor: PippaZX
Pairing: Kurt/ Blaine
Rating: PG-13- R
Word Count: 1730
Summary: Summary: Kind of A/U. A depressed, anxious Kurt is re-introduced to music, fashion, and other kinds of love when Blaine strays from the Warbler’s performing at Green Meadows, Mental Health Hospital, which Kurt is checked in to.
WARNING: This has possible triggers.
A/N: This was written for a request at the Glee_Angst_Meme and it's a work in progress.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for the Dalton Academy Warbler’s, here to sing you a set of acappella music."
A/N: I’m kind of in shock at how many people have put this fic on their alerts and favorites and how many people have reviewed. It’s kind of amazing. Thankyou.
This chapter is less intense than the last chapter, but I think that things will darken next chapter. I think that I’m planning on making this a four- shot.
Joyful: I haven't changed the 'golden hair' bit- I plan to soon, though. 8)
I now present to you:
Music, Love, And Other Healing Drugs: Chapter Two
A boy with curly black haired slicked back with too much hair product looked around him. Twenty boys in monogrammed, red uniform jackets with school crests on them, uniform shirts, perfectly tailored pants, and freshly polished, black dress shoes wandered around the front of their school waiting for a school bus to pull into the drop off zone.
The school grounds were laced with a layer of fresh powder snow and the air was brisk. The boy with curly hair wished that he had brought a winter jacket to put on over his uniform one. The boy had overslept his alarm by 15 minutes and although he had enough time to shower and get ready, he had to leave his room in a hurry, so he left slightly frazzled. Thinking of anxiety, he wondered if he looked like he was anxious. He couldn’t look like he was anxious, so he brushed off the thoughts- he had to keep his cool- he had to make sure that everyone knew he was the calm, collected male soloist of his Glee club, The Dalton Academy Warblers.
A bus pulled up and released pressure as it lowered to the ground. The front side doors opened with a gasp.
“Single file in everyone!” Wes, one of the Warbler’s co-captains shouted with an authoritative voice, in a way that said he was comfortable with public speaking.
The curly haired boy with too much product took his place in line- behind Wes and David, the Warbler’s other co- captain and in front of Taylor and John, two new freshman recruits.
“Fill up the bus right to left, front to back!” Wes ordered.
The boy tried to keep his eyes on the co-captain, but they inevitably glanced left at the bus. It was candy apple red with the words ‘Dalton Academy’ written in white cursive across the side. Looking through the windows, he could see that the interior seats were black leather (none of that pleather nonsense like at his old school) and equipped with seatbelts. The Dalton Academy only had the best.
The boy took the front seat behind the driver, across from where he knew Wes and David would sit after they finished taking a headcount of all of the boys in identical school uniforms walking into the bus.
Their teacher chaperones, Dr. Bobby and Dr. Daniels were sitting in the seat behind Wes and David doing their own headcounts, but allowing the co- captains to take charge and practice their leadership skills, something the Dalton Academy prided it’s students in having.
Wes and David introduced the bus driver, who went over the rules, and told the rest of the group to be awake for when they called a Warbler meeting on the concert, on location at the place they were heading to, details in a while.
The boy opened his messenger bag and pulled out a notebook. It was old and tearing apart at the binding. The cover had doodles and lyrics written in sharpie and stickers of everything from In N Out Burger to Katy Perry to Harry Potter (his favorite). The boy opened the notebook up to a page near the end and pulled a pen out from behind his ear. He had a half-finished set of lyrics from the night before, which he had fallen asleep working on, that he wanted to finish.
“Are you studying the sheet music, Blaine?”
The curly haired boy looked up and tried jump at a scrawny, freckled, red- head looking at him expectantly. “What? No, I’m working on some lyrics.”
“You’re not studying your music?” The boy signaled to a standard black binder filled with all of the sheet music that the Warbler’s used on a regular basis.
“No, I studied last night.” The curly haired boy named Blaine said.
“I don’t understand- how you remember all of the lyrics and notes and steps all of the time- it’s so much information.” The freshman looked up at Blaine for advice.
“Theatre kid trick?” Blaine asked rhetorically, but the freshman replied anyway.
The freshman practically shook in his pants at the frequent- soloist, third- in- command of his show choir talking to him. “A-anything,”
“Try doing something physical while studying. I like to go to the treadmill at the gym or do sit-ups. I know some kids who can only learn their lines while in a moving vehicle.’ The older boy offered.
“No problem.” Blaine looked back down at his notebook, as the freshman looked back down at his Warbler’s sheet music binder.
“Hey, can we get everyone’s attention please?” Wes called to the group of kids, turning around in his seat and sitting up on his knees. It was not proper, but it was convenient- something odd for a boy- man usually so formal.
All of the Warbler’s eyes were on Wes.
“So we’re about 20 minutes from Green Meadow’s Mental Health Hospital. I just wanted to remind you to proper etiquette for the situation and location there. Even though I know that you will all be on your best behavior, please remember that the Warblers represent the Dalton Academy when we perform to people in need of cheer.” Wes said.
“Yes,” David agreed, then added. “Please remember that we are going to a mental hospital- this is slightly different than a regular hospital. I ask that you be respectful to the patients, the staff, and each other, as always. We will be performing for Level Ones and Level Twos in the 13- 21-year-old age group, which Green Meadows told me, are people who are relatively stable and most of them are near to being released. Also, the ‘sit out’ policy is the same as usual- if the situation or location becomes too intense for you to handle, please let Dr. Bob or Dr. Daniels know and one of them will come out to the bus with you to wait out the visit.” David signaled to a teacher with silver hair and balding scalp and an intelligent demeanor and a caramel colored haired man with silver rimmed glasses and bright eyes. “Now, if you’ll turn your attention back to Wes, he’ll be going over the set list.”
Blaine turned his attention to Wes, who opened his Warbler’s binder and began to go over what order the group had to have their songs in and what order they were going to sing their songs.
“Now, if you’ll sit back, we’re nearing Green Meadows and we’ll be arriving shortly.” Wes said, as many of the Warbler’s turned to their friends sitting next to them and began to talk about football or hockey or fashion designers or pop culture- all was open and accepted topic for the Dalton Academy boys.
The bus pulled up to a security gate and the driver opened his window and began to talk. He was handed a sticker, which he put in the front window and drove down a long, winding road. Blaine looked out his window- the bus drove through thick trees and long, green grass that had been cut fairly recently. Finally, the forestry thinned out and the bus slowed down as they drove through a meadow with brightly colored flowers. Blaine even spotted a couple of rabbits. It felt like spring inside the walls more than it did at Dalton.
Finally, the curly haired boy spotted a modern building, but looked more like multiple buildings. The main building was the tallest at four or five stories. All of the other buildings were attached to the main building and sprawled out like rays to a sun. The first building only has a set of windows at the very top, but with each of the next four buildings, the windows got lower and there were more windows.
The bus winded around the road circling the building and finally stopped. The curly haired boy realized that they must have been entering through the main entrance. The bull slowed to a stop and released pressure as it sunk closer to the ground. The doors gasped open and Wes stepped off the bus first. Tyler exited and Blaine followed the freshman out.
Blaine took in the smell of fresh, but moist, and naturally dirty air overpowered by the scent of drying laundry and too many chemicals. His senses were torn over the natural and unnatural, as his eyes tried to look everywhere at once. He noticed that a lot of the other boys were, as well.
Soon, they were all lined up. Wes led the group to the front entrance and a man with brown hair, a beard, and a bleach- white doctor’s coat stepped out. “Welcome to Green Meadows.” He said.
“Thank you for having us, Dr. Blue,” Wes replied and then turned back to the Warblers. “Dalton Academy Warbler’s, I would like to introduce you to Dr. Blue, he is in charge of patient activities and artistic therapy here. I think that I will turn it over to you, Doctor.”
“First of all, thank you for coming. The staff and patients always appreciate these kinds of things. When you walk in, you will have to sign your name, the date, your entrance time, and group that you are in on our guest sheet. Then, you will have to go through a metal detector.
Once through the metal detectors, Dr. Blue swiped his ID card on a door and pushed it open. He lead the Warbler’s up a flight of stairs and swiped his card again before pushing another door open. “This is the art and theatre room,” Mr. Blue said holding the door open.
The boy followed the co-captains and the doctor into the room and took in the room. The first thing that the boy noticed was how squishy the floor was. It was odd, he thought. It felt like foam under a tumbling floor at a gymnastics place, minus the springs, he thought. He was amazed that he did not sink into it and that it was not hard to walk on.
The floor was covered with a soft blue carpet. One end of the room had a white board with tons of colored white board markers. There was a stage of sorts and behind the stage, there was a giant white wall. Turning to his other side, he could see a projector hanging from the ceiling. Below the projector there were tons of foam chairs in all different colors. There were also round, plastic tables between the foam chairs.
“Everyone line up in your rows, then sit down.” Wes instructed. Blaine took his spot at the front row in the center, just as the door on the other side of the room opened.
In walked a frail golden haired boy. His strides were long and graceful, yet somehow sullen. Even from across the room, Blaine could see the other boy’s blue eyes and the dark circles under them. Even with frown lines on the golden haired boy’s face, Blaine found the other boy mesmerizing. Blaine thought about sinking into his cross- legged position even more, but then he remembered that he attended the Dalton Academy, where he was not persecuted for being gay. But just because Blaine was gay did not mean that the other boy was, too. After all, the brown haired boy was talking to a blonde bombshell.
“Stand up, everyone.” Wes instructed. “We’re about to start.”
“Are you ready?” Dr. Blue asked, as the room filled with 40 or 50 patients.
The curly, black haired boy focused on keeping performance butterflies out and the music that he was about to sing.
Summary: Kind of A/U. A depressed, anxious Kurt is re-introduced to music, fashion, and other kinds of love when Blaine strays from the Warbler’s performing at Green Meadows, Mental Health Hospital, which Kurt is checked in to.
WARNING: This has possible triggers.
A/N: I know that this is a very sensitive topic and I really do no want to offend anyone, so if you do not think that I approached something right, please let me know and I will try and change it. Thank you.
Also, this was written for a request over at the Glee_Angst_Meme. The prompt was amazing.
Without further ado, I present to you:
Music, Love, And Healing Drugs: A Klaine Story
Green Meadows Mental Health Hospital was a secret in the community that surrounded it. People saw the towering, mossy, stone walls running for miles and the birds flying back and forth over the wall as they pleased, but everything beyond the walls was a complete mystery to most. People who lived in the nearly-by towns guessed that it was a school, a hospital for people with chronic illnesses, an elderly care home, an orphanage, or even an old abandoned mansion, and all of their guesses described the people who lived behind the walls- but none were exactly right. Lawyers, health professions, and a few citizens knew the truth, but they rarely said a thing about the facility. For the patients treated inside, the mystery was good for them. It gave them privacy. They deserved their privacy, at least from the community, as they no longer had it from their doctors, families, or friends.
Behind the walls, there was a sprawling building. Inside the East Wing of the building sat a sixteen-year-old boy with a china- doll complexion and golden colored hair. He had frown lines on his face, dark circles under his eyes, and his face emitted an aura that only a person who considered death an old friend could have. The boy sat on his twin bed that had clean, crisp white sheets put Mondays and Thursdays, or when a patient got them dirty. The sheets were covered with a standard thick, tan blanket and navy blue comforter. There were no buttons and no frills, all for the safety of the patient who slept in the bed.
The boy stared at the carpet and pushed his toes into the floor with five inches of thick, firm foam beneath the carpet, which was in place of hard floors which patients might have slammed themselves against to cause damage to themselves or others. The boy looked down past the white bandages that were wrapped around his wrists with some burgundy blood coloring noticeable a gauze layer or two deep, likely from a stitch or two that had snapped.
“It’s time for your morning pills,” a woman in sky blue nurses scrubs, standard white Velcro nurse shoes, and a Grandmother’s perm, said as she pushed a cart full of medicine and tiny paper cups into the room. The boy’s face tightened more, which the nurse didn’t think was possible, at the sight of the older woman. The boy didn’t comment on her outfit, which he might have done a year ago. He didn’t resist the pills, as he did three months ago. He even considered the woman pushing the cart into his room a some-what familiar sight.
The golden haired boy looked up. “I know.” He responded. “It’s 8AM.”
The women handed the boy a paper cup filled with three pills.
“Same as yesterday?” The boy asked.
The women nodded. “The same as the past two weeks.”
“I know. But after the allergic reaction to Paxil, Nurse Marie, I’m terrified of all medicine. Each day is terrifying.”
“It’s not my place to talk, but I think that you have improved greatly since the doctors took you off the Celexa.”
“When I did nothing but cry all day?”
Nurse Marie nodded. “Yes.”
“I don’t want to leave this place.” The boy bowed his head and stared at the blue carpet with great intensity.
“You can’t hide out in Green Meadows forever, Kurt.”
“I can. Burt and I can agree on one thing: We’re both happier with me here.”
“I thought Mediation Therapy was working.”
“It is. I mean, I know now that he meant for the best when he sent me here. But Carol and Finn pushed it too hard. They still think that I’m crazy. And I know that I did things, but Burt, Carol, and Finn did too…” the boy called Kurt trailed off. “But don’t tell the doctors I put the blame on someone else.”
“Tricking me into finding a reason to keep you here longer will do you no good, Mr. Hummel.” Nurse Marie glared at the boy, but only playfully. “I can’t keep you here longer because you’re not accepting what you did, anymore.”
“I wish I wasn’t anywhere.” The boy’s voice was low and he spoke with a seriousness that most would find terrifying.
“Don’t joke about that.” Nurse Marie glared seriously, her large gray eyes stern and her voice stoic from years of being a mental health facility nurse. Still, neither the nurse nor Kurt could deny that she had a soft spot for the boy.
The boy didn’t respond. He wanted to. But he didn’t want to be pushed back to a Level Two or a Level Three. He liked his level one privileges. He enjoyed reading Vogue Magazine, he enjoyed listening to Gypsy and Katy Perry CD’s for his allotted hour and a half a day. He did not exactly want to be at Green Meadows, but he definitely did not want to be at school or at his father’s house. He was not accepted there, he was not welcome there. It was not his house anymore. It had not been since his mother died.
“I have to deliver the other patient’s meds, but see you tomorrow and Nurse Jamie will be here to give you your evening meds at 8.”
Kurt nodded and opened his mouth and dumped the three pills from the cup into his mouth. The nurse handed him one of the tiny paper cups from her cart filled with water. The boy accepted the cup threw his head back in an almost-practiced gesture that practiced eyes could tell still looked awkward.
He handed the paper cup back to the women, who tossed it in a garbage bag on the front of the cart.
“Wait. Open your mouth.” The nurse ordered.
The boy glared at the brown-turning-silver haired women.
“You know just as well as I that you have been known to push your pills to the sides of our mouth or keep them under your tongue and spit them out later. So, please, open your mouth… Say ‘Ah’!”
Kurt sighed and opened his mouth and said ‘Ahh!’ as the nurse looked around.
“Tongue up.” The nurse ordered and Kurt complied. “Thank you.”
“I don’t get it. I am a Level One and I’m well enough for them to release me, as they have deemed me no longer a threat to myself or others; I’m well enough to joke about the situation; we have my med doses worked out; and I am no longer literally dying of side- effects, which would have been fine by me, but you know… And yet, they don’t trust me not to take my own pills.”
“I can’t tell you anything, Kurt. Sorry.” The nurse changed the subject. “Independent study starts in fifteen minutes.”
The boy responded with a glare and a wrinkled nose. Before he arrived at the Green Meadows, he would have never scrunched up his face, in fear of wrinkles, but since he had arrived, he had changed, he lost some of his previous self.
The nurse walked out and the boy sat on his bed thinking about what he looked like, something that he had not done in a long time.
He knew that his hair was darker that it had been sixth months ago- he spent little time outside even though he had been allowed to go outside since he was a Level Three and his hair had not seen a salon or highlights in at least four months. Still, his hair was a perfect golden color. He thought that it was a gross flat color, but he had become almost- accustomed to it over the past months. His eyes were blue, but they were dark. He could feel face was slightly rounder than it has been, as a result of the weight gain side effect of several of the medicines that he had been on. He wore no beauty product, as they were strictly forbidden, but he wished that he could wear them. Then, he might have felt remotely beautiful. He didn’t like anything, but he accepted it.
The boy looked down again- this time at his wrists. He wondered why he couldn’t have just died. He wondered why he freaked out after he cut deeper than he had done ever before- he blamed the alcohol and the pills- and the fact that his step- brother had decided to stop back home after Glee club practice one day. In a matter of hours, he’d gone from marked- for- death to survivor. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. Still, the drugs were stupid, not worth the side effects, but they kind of helped. He kind of liked Vogue Magazine and he kind of liked music when someone made him listen to things he liked. He kind of wished that he could see non-industrial standard clothes again. Not enough to leave Green Meadows, but still some. There were too many fashion regulations here- too many potential hazards, weapons, tools, whatever word one chose to describe scarves, chains, belts, buttons, or anything the boy once considered high- fashion.
Sighing, the boy made his way out of the sleeping quarters. He walked down a hall past 10 doors just like his, with Level One boys sleeping in them at night and sometimes passing time in them during the day. He only passed two nurses on 24- hour watch as he made his way down the hall.
At the end of the hall, he turned left, then he stopped at the door on his right. He arrived at a room used as a classroom. He entered the room to hear a blur of voices over- lapping. He knew that something was happening- excited people in any setting all reacted in the same way.
He glanced around the room and his eyes stopped at a tall, blonde girl. “What’s going on?” The boy asked his friend, whose enormous blue eyes were wandering the room, distracted by anything and everything.
“They’re bringing in a Glee club. For us to listen to. I guess that they go around singing to people. Charity cases. Kind of like us.” Lily explained and rolled her eyes. But then her tone changed. “I hope they’re not old.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I hope they’re boys!” Lily was, after all, a girl who hadn't seen anyone not on her doctor's ‘Allowed To See’ list in months.
The boy’s interest sparked automatically. Then he thought about it and frowned. Then, memories flooded his mind. He bit his lip. He squished his eyes closed as hard as he could so that he wouldn’t even try to cry. He didn’t think that he could anymore.
Still, the boy’s eyes glimmered. Just a little. His face was still worn, but there was no denying that something was there.
“Students!” A forty- something with frizzy red hair and green eyes clapped her hands together twice. “Line up single file and I’ll give you your file for the day.” The woman said, as the boy went to retrieve his file with assignments emailed from his teachers back in Lima, Ohio, where he went to high school, for him to complete. With thoughts of schoolwork, any and all thoughts of a visiting Glee club were forgotten. Not really, but the boy had convinced himself that measurable assignments were better than music.
After all, music required passion and passion was something that required heart, which he could not allow himself to have. He couldn’t love, because the world only knew how to break his heart. There was not enough love in the world for him. After all, the boy was one of those people. The kind that had to lose, so everyone else could win.
- Current Mood:accomplished
- Current Music:Matt Doyle on Youtube
Also, this site was extremely helpful to me while writing this fic and I think that it will be helpful to you while reading it.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
"You and Brittany have a..." Mike lowered his voice, hoping that the other people in the thinning-out crowds of students wouldn't hear him and that his voice wouldn't echo off the tiles. "Sexual relationship, right?"
"Wha--?" Artie asked, surprised to hear the words out of the he usually quiet, reserved, and polite Asian's mouth.
"I mean, you and Brittany have a sexual relationship, right?" Mike asked.
"I'm not sure if that's something that I want to answer, because if I say it, then all of Glee club will know." Artie answered, ever the honest person.
"I mean, how do you know that you're like... attracted to someone?"
"I'm not sure if I'm the best person to ask about that- maybe Puck, or Kurt, or Tina, why aren't you asking Tina?" Artie questioned back. "She's your girlfriend... Right?"
"Can you... feel... anything?" Mike asked, hoping that he wouldn't offend Artie, because he knew how much being a paraplegic affected Artie and he didn't want to invade his friend's space. It was impolite.
Artie looked away, pretending to be distracted by a sign on a bulletin board. At first, I thought that I might have been paralyzed... down there..." Artie admitted. "But then, I started feeling... an itch... But a small one... I started doing research, because by then Puck and Santana had banged half the class. In my research, I discovered a website called AVEN, or Asexual Visibility and Education Network."
"Wait." Mike stated softly. "I don't mean to interrupt." He paused. "Sorry." he added quickly.
"Don't worry about it."
"It means that you don't experience sexual attraction." Artie explained.
"To anyone?" Mike questioned.
"Well, 'Demi-Sexuals' experience attraction once they are in a committed, romantic relationship and 'Gray- A's' experience some attraction, and like all sexuality, it's fluid, and on a scale, but they can identify a lot with asexuals."
"What about you. You said that you didn't start feeling," Mike lowered his voice, "Stuff down there until later, right?"
"Let me finish my story." Artie said. "I thought that I was asexual, but then I found that I might have been Gray- A, then DemiSexual, but then I realized that I was sexual, but just kind of a late bloomer. I started seeing girls everywhere, in the movies, on the internet, and that was when I confirmed that I'm a straight, sexual, male."
"And you were a late bloomer, right..." Mike drew on. "So maybe I am, too..."
"What?" Artie asked, not picking up all that Mike had said, as he spoke too quickly and too quietly.
"I don't think that I've ever been sexually attracted to anyone." Mike mumbled quietly.
"Okay." Artie accepted the answer simply and that surprised Mike. "I'm not going to ask you if just haven't met the right person yet, because sexuality is up for the individual to figure out." Artie rambled to himself.
Artie didn't want to pressure Mike into anything, because Artie knew that it had been a struggle for him to figure things out, so he hoped that Mike would ask him. If not, Artie would bring it up, but he didn't want to.
"Would you help me?"
"How?" Artie asked.
"Um... I don't know... It was a dumb question." Mike looked down at his shoes. "I should really get to dance..." Mike turned around. "Thanks for--"
"STOP." Artie commanded.
"Would you like to go to Spencer's and maybe try a toy or two of mine or watch some porn?" Artie asked.
Mike's usually pale cheeks flushed. "Maybe."
"After school?" Artie asked.
Walking past the hats and the clothing, Mike looked around the store. His eyes glanced over a shirt with female body parts on it and Mike blushed and looked away.
Mike's heart pounded. He hoped that no one he knew would see him walk in.
His mom had 'eyes' or 'friends' everywhere.
"Mike!" Artie called, and Mike ducked his head, hoping that no one would see hi,. He sunk into his hoodie.
"They're in the back." Artie explained. "Come on!"
Mike's head continued to spin. Maybe it was because of the incense. He coughed and followed Artie.
"This," Artie pointed to a toy, "Is a..."
"WhatifTinawalksin?!" Mike mumbled.
"What?" Artie asked.
"This is Tina's favorite store!" Mike freaked out.
"As I was saying," Artie pulled a toy off of a hook and the entire rack jingled.
Mike flinched. He had never seen a toy before. He thought that it was weird and gross. Sure, he was staring at it, but it was because he had never seen one before.
"I'm going to..." Mike back up, "Meet you out front." Mike dashed from the back of the store, towards the front.
As Mike was exiting, he nearly crashed into Tina.
"Mike! What are you doing here?!" Tina asked.
"I'm..." Mike paused to look for the words.
"He's helping me pick out a new hat," Artie dropped in smoothly.
"Yepp. Bro code." Mike added in, then rushed to the exit that lead into the mall.
A week later, Mike sat on a chair next to Artie, starring at a computer screen in Artie's bedroom.
"Since you freaked out at Spencer's, I think that we'll start with..."
Mike held his breathing.
"What?" Mike released his breath. "Like Livejournal? 'Cause my cousin moderates a Super Junior fan fiction and those Elf's freak me out."
"Soft porn fan fiction!" Artie exclaimed.
"Oh. Uhh... okay? What kind?"
"Show Choir fan fiction?!"
"How do you even know about fan fiction?" Mike asked.
"Uhh... Tina." Artie explained.
Mike nodded. "'Course."
"Hey, dude, Tina totally."
"I know, I know... chill!"
"Do you want to read it?" Artie asked, moving his wheel chair over so that Mike could see the screen.
A half an hour later, both boys were into the fan fiction.
"So let me get this straight. Hawk hooked up with Kara who is really Kart, but they made him a girl in this fan fiction?!"
"You didn't even notice that the fan fiction had some soft porn?" Artie asked.
Mike shrugged. "I skipped over it." he admitted.
Mike went home that night and opened the internet. His mom wouldn't be home from the store for another hour, his little sister was at after school care, and his dad was away on business, so he had the media room to himself for a while.
He couldn't remember the site that Artie had told him about... Avon? Avenues? What was it called? He gave up and Googled 'Asexual'. A few links down, he found the site. AVEN. He clicked on it then opened the message boards.
He looked around. Then closed the site. He couldn't do it.
He exited out of the window, then cleared his history. He couldn't be asexual.
"Next up... porn." Artie announced.
Mike's eyes widened.
"You said that you wanted to try watching some.
"I know, but..."
"Artie pressed 'play' and the video began.
Less than two minutes later, Mike rolled his eyes up so that he didn't have to watch, but he looked like he was.
"I gotta go... to the bathroom..." Mike got up and rushed out of the room.
Ten minutes later, he walked back into Artie's room.
"So... did you feel anything?" Artie asked.
"Besides for nausea?" Mike asked back.
Two weeks later, Mike got back from Football and Glee practice and she showered. The thought of sex hadn't crossed his mind in the past two weeks. He realized that it never did, and the more that he thought about it, it was on his mind a million times less than everyone else he knew. Sure, he went on dates with Tina, and they kissed, but he didn't think about it. He realized that he was finally, maybe, getting used to the idea of an intimate relationship. Maybe. Not really.
He couldn't help it.
He opened the internet browser and typed 'AVEN' into Google.
He clicked on the link, opened the message board, entered the forums, started a new topic, and began to tell his story... partially... he left out details.
Two days later, Mike opened up AVEN. He opened the message board and was surprised to see that several people had responded.
He was frustrated, though, to see how many people said, 'But it's up for you to decide for sure."
It frustrated him.
Why couldn't he just be turned on and sleep with every girl that he knew, like Puck?!
"You gotta tell Tina, Dude." Artie told Mike, as they walked into Glee club.
"Tell me what?" Tina asked, as she fixed the giant black bow that she had tied around he head.
"Uh... Nothing." Mike said, as Artie gave him a look.
Friday, Mike took Tina out to Dim Sum.
They shared a plate like they usually did, and Tina took a sip of Diet Coke.
"What's wrong Mike? Do you not like me?" Tina asked.
"No, it's not that..." Mike trailed off.
"Then what is it?" Tina pleaded for an answer. "You've been distant for weeks and every time that I try to kiss you, you move away. Are you not... Happy?"
"No!" Mike exclaimed. "Yes..." he paused and let out a frustrated groan. "I don't know..."
Tina tossed down 10 dollars and stood up. She held out her hand. Mike looked at it and took it.
Mike tossed down some cash and followed Tina out onto the street.
The two began to walk, their fingers entwined. "Mike, what is it?" she paused. "You can talk to me... It's not that long ago that I didn't have things figured out... I still don't."
Mike's ears perked at Tina's words.
"Tina... I don't think that I ever want to have sex." He stated.
"Ever?" she asked.
Mike nodded his head.
"I don't understand. How could someone not want to have sex?"
Mike shrugged. "I guess I don't."
"I mean, I like guys. And sometimes girls... I think… I guess I'm bi..." she trailed off.
"And I guess I'm asexual."
"I mean, are you okay with not having sex- at least for now?" Mike asked his girlfriend.
"It'll be kind of hard, sure, but I'll do it for you." Tina took Mike's hand.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
"Are you still okay with kissing?" Tina asked, hesitating.
Mike took a moment to pause. He had been thinking about his answer, but he didn't know how he expected it to come out. "Yes... Asian kiss?" he asked.
He leaned forward and Tina leaned forward and they pecked each other's lips.
"Did you know that some asexuals don't mind having sex?" Mike asked. "I mean, some are okay if it's a friend, other's don't mind either way, and some have had sex for years until they realized that they didn't feel anything."
"Whoa." Tina looked up from the Glee costume that she was putting together.
"I don't mean to rush you, but do you know where you stand?" Tina asked.
"I'm still figuring it out as I go." he replied honestly. "I know that I'm a romantic, hetero- romantic, Ace. I'm still not definitively sure."
Tina took Mike's hand. "I don't want to push you to do any more than you're comfortable with, even though I have, um, needs. But I'm on some of the boards for friends, family members, and partners of asexuals, so I want to be with you... Okay?"
Mike looked up and smiled warmly. He couldn’t have asked for a more supportive girlfriend.
"Thanks... Asian kiss?"
A/N: So… uhhh… How do you think that this turn out? Thanks for reading!"Fi
- Current Music:Super Junior ^_^