Chapter 5

(KURT'S POV)

So it's been two weeks since I moved here.

A week and a half since I started sending out job applications.

My resume sucks and I know it. I have a bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering and what do I have to show for it?

Ten years of filing paper at my own father's company.

Skills I have?

Um... Well, categorizing paper? I don't know! I fixed two or three cars before Finn came around... Does that count?

Achievements?

Ranked fourth in my class at OSU. Does anyone even care about fourth place or does that feeling of awe only kick in for first or second?

Perhaps my resume is so shitty because I just hate the idea of pursuing a career that I have absolutely no passion for.

'That's life.' Dad had told me. Who am I to argue?

Anyways, like I said, it's been a week and a half and I haven't heard back from anyone.

Finn applied at the same time I did and he already has a couple of interviews scheduled.

How, you ask? I really have no idea. He has a business marketing degree and has worked as a mechanic for nearly a decade. It doesn't make sense. But I suppose if I don't get any calls, Finn has to get a couple just to balance out the perversity.

I don't know what to do with myself while I wait, however. What with Rachel always at auditions and Finn always going with her and Blaine teaching at NYADA, I keep ending up having the house to myself.

Which I suppose isn't a bad thing, necessarily.

Mainly I've taken to watching Rachel and Blaine's movie musicals on my computer. I actually haven't seen any before. I have always had to just imagine the story lines based on my secret Broadway soundtracks or google them in private if I get too desperate.

But watching them-- on my computer, with my earbuds in, facing the front door (should someone walk in for any reason)-- is such a different experience.

As I now sit here watching Evita for the second time, I almost want to cry.

I can feel these small, barely-there flutters in my chest. Tiny remnants of a passion I used to feel. A once all-consuming, ambitious passion that is now fragmented and negligible.

I find myself mouthing along to the words I'd memorized so long ago.

I also find myself waging an internal battle.

No one's home. Nobody will ever have to know.

Just do it.

I can't.

Why not?

I'm afraid.

Of what?

... Of being heard.

I thought you wanted people to notice you for once?

I don't know what I want.

Fear is a stupid emotion. It's your own fault-- but you can control it. Take charge for once.

I don't know how.

Tough.

I close my laptop and set it down on the coffee table. I scramble toward the bathroom, close the door behind me, and turn to face the mirror above the sink. For a moment I just stand there, staring at my own face, at my flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes, before I finally open my mouth.

"It won't be easy

You'll think it strange..."

Oh dear God, I'm just not used to this. I flinch violently at the falsetto sound coming out of my throat.

"When I try to explain how I feel..."

My voice cracks. A lot. And I can't hold the note very long.

I take a couple of deep breaths and clear my throat. My hands tremble faintly on the countertop.

"That I still need your love, after all that I've done

You won't believ-"

My voice thins out before I can finish the line and tears well in my eyes before I can stop them. I try to sing the line again to no avail.

"You can hit a note like this. You can hit it. You've done it before!" I yell at my reflection.

Yeah and you sported Burt's handprint on your face for nearly a week It practically spits back at me.

I skip to the chorus.

"Don't cry for me Argentina

The truth is I nev-"

CRACK goes my voice.

My throat burns and I can't even see myself in the mirror through my tears.

I think back on the day, so long ago, that I first discovered I could hit a high F. It was probably the happiest day of my life. I thought I had an escape. I thought I had a ticket out of that crumby little town.

That was the first and last time I ever sung that note.

You're just a Lima loser.

I know.

The little fissures behind my eyes abruptly burst open, and tears finally spill over.

I stumble back and drop onto the toilet seat, sobbing into my hands.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I chant into my palms, rocking back and forth, squeezing fistfuls of my hair.

My throat feels tight as my chest begins to spasm, and soon I start wheezing in and out, the telltale signs of my all-too-familiar panic attacks.

Oh shit.

Cam down! It's just your voice! What did you expect after all this time?

I close my eyes and cup my hands around my mouth, just breathing and trying to relax my chest muscles.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

It takes me a while to calm down enough to stand up on wobbly legs. My face feels tight and my nose is runny and I don't even need to look in the mirror to know that my skin must be redder than a ripe tomato.

What time is it?

People should be coming home soon.

I shrug off my clothes and step into the shower. I feel hot all over so I crank up the cold water and lean against the tiles, trying and failing to think about nothing.

Soon enough my breathing returns to normal.

(BLAINE'S POV)

Usually when I have classes earlier in the day, I grab a coffee with Wes, who teaches vocal lessons in NYADA's main building. However, he and his wife are gonna celebrate their anniversary tonight so he told me he needed to get home ASAP.

I still go to the café across the street, but order my medium drip 'to go' instead.

I walk home briskly and quickly, not wanting to be out in the cold any longer than necessary. I hold the warm cup tightly in my numb hand as I fumble for the keys in my pocket. I unlock our front door and swiftly step inside, shutting out the chill.

I begin to head over to my room but stop dead in my tracks at the sound of someone sobbing.

It's high pitched and unrecognizable-- not Rachel. Rachel is at an audition and Finn's no doubt with her. Plus, she would cry in the middle of the living room so that everyone could see her.

So that only leaves...

Really?

What do I do?

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I hear through the door. It's quite heartbreaking. His cries sound so desperate and I wish he could be comforted somehow. I have absolutely no idea how to proceed. Clearly Kurt hasn't heard me come in yet. If I go in there will he be embarrassed? Will I be overstepping? I've only known him for a couple of weeks...

I toe off my shoes and pad into my room, setting down my bag and removing my scarf and coat, before I walk quietly back into the living room. The sobs are still going strong and I don't know why or what caused them. I feel at a loss.

I sink down onto the sofa and stare at the door.

Is this creepy? Should I just go to my room and ignore him? Am I a terrible person if I do?

In the end, Kurt decides for me. I hadn't even realized that the cries had quieted down somewhat before I hear the squeak of the shower nozzles turning on and the stream of water hitting the bottom of the tub.

I sigh and close my eyes, stretching out on the couch. Well that was a bust.

I'm not sure how long it is until I hear I hear the water shut off, but before I can make my exit, Rachel and Finn come bursting through the door.

"Hey, how was it?" I ask, needing to distract myself.

"It was okay. I mean, it wasn't bad per se, but it wasn't my best performance." Rachel's mouth twists.

"That's too bad." I say in sympathy.

"She sounded awesome, I don't know what she's talking about." Finn compliments, earning him a kiss from Rachel. He looks so self-satisfied that I almost laugh out loud, but that wouldn't help Finn. So I keep my lips sealed, instead giving him a sly thumbs-up when Rachel's back is turned.

"Guys I'm starving." Finn announces.

Rachel checks her watch and says thoughtfully, "I guess we could have an early dinner..."

"I picked up some mozzarella yesterday, you guys in the mood for pasta?" I ask. "We can set aside a bowl without cheese in it, of course." I add to Rachel.

She says "Sure," at the same time Finn says, "Dude, I'm up for anything."

Just then, the door to the bathroom pushes open and out walks Kurt, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He looks fresh and chipper, as if nothing had happened at all.

As far he thinks the rest of us know, nothing did happen...

"Hey guys, what's going on?" He asks, eyeing everyone.

I try searching for it-- the barest hint of sorrow, the crack in his façade-- and... nothing.

He's perfectly composed now.

It terrifies me.

Has this happened before? How many times?

Suddenly I feel as though a whole world of secrets has been presented to me, but I have no way to access them.

What is he hiding?

"Rachel and I were just about to get started on dinner. You wanna help?" I ask carefully. I wasn't supposed to have seen anything, so I can't let him know that I did.

His mouth opens and closes for a moment, looking as though he's having some sort of internal conflict for a fraction of a second.

My eyes glaze over as I notice that, after a shower, the flush of his face seems to make his lips look particularly pinker than they normally do. It makes them kind of distracting.

Is that a weird thing to observe?

Pay attention.

"Thanks but-- I'm just about as useless in the kitchen as Finn." Kurt finally responds. Finn chuckles in agreement.

"Alright." I murmur, following Rachel to the oven. Kurt and Finn go watch tv.

"So... Are you adjusting to having extra people around here?" Rachel asks, dumping the noodles into a large bowl while I tear up some basil.

"Yeah, everyone seems to be getting on well..." I lie.

"Even Kurt? I'm a little worried about him." Rachel mentions.

"Wait-- you've seen something?" That wasn't a one time thing?

"No," Rachel says, eyeing me. "It's just, he doesn't get out much and-- and you know how all their stuff shipped here a couple days ago?"

"Yeah." Luckily I had had some classes that day, so I hadn't had to unpack with everyone else.

"Well it was all Finn's. like, all of it." She tells me, leaning in close as though she was revealing some juicy gossip.

I frowned.

"Maybe Kurt's stuff just hasn't gotten here yet..."

"Finn said that was it. That little suitcase Kurt brought? That was everything."

"And... This bothers you? Or...?" I ask slowly. She seems worked up over this small thing.

"It doesn't bother me, I just think it's weird. I mean it almost seems like he's not planning on staying here for very long..."

For some reason that idea makes me kind of sad.

"Or maybe he just doesn't have a lot of stuff?" I hope that's the case.

"Perhaps." Rachel agrees.

"Well if your so concerned he's a recluse, why don't we all go out tomorrow night?"

"Oooh that could be fun," Rachel grins.

I squeeze my eyes shut and make an obvious show of crossing my fingers in hope.

"Gay bar, gay bar, gay bar, gay bar" I chant excitedly.

"Yes Blaine, going to a gay bar is the perfect place to get a straight guy to come out of his shell." She mocks, laughing.

"You'd be surprised by the things that 'come out' there." I tease, moving out of the way before she can shove me.

"Dear God, Blaine, let's think of some options."

(KURT'S POV)

We're watching a rerun of Deadliest Catch that I've seen at least four times already. I desperately want to retreat to the kitchen to cook, but refrain.

I feel physically and emotionally drained from earlier and I really just want to sleep.

Finn decides that this is the right time to lay his big news on me.

"So..." He starts, wringing his hands out nervously.

"So..." I mimic, turning to face him.

"I was thinking of, you know, popping the question..."

My eyes widen.

"To Rachel?"

"No, to you. Yes to Rachel." Finn chuckles, and I join him. "What do you think?" He asks.

"I think it's a great idea!" I yell quietly. He grins that dopey, stupid grin that I can't help but love. I slap him on the back fondly, happiness flooding through me.

Jesus, when did he grow up? I wonder, feeling like a protective parent. This is the same guy who thought cucumbers could give you AIDS?

"When are you gonna do it?" I ask.

"Not sure. I mean I'm gonna wait a few more weeks until we're more settled here and stuff but-- it's time, bro."

"That amazing. Do you have a ring yet? I could help you look for a store if you don't want anyone else finding out." I offer.

"Naw, dude, I already got one." Finn discreetly pulls a box out of his pocket, and picks his head up to make sure no one else can see him. We can still hear voices coming from the kitchen in full swing, so we know we're safe.

He lifts the lid to show me, and my heart stops. My expression sobers and I feel an unpleasant tingling sensation spread throughout my body and die in my fingertips.

I know that ring all too well.

"Where did you get that?" I whisper, my eyes never leaving the sapphire sparkling dully in the lamplight.

"Your dad gave it to me a couple years back. He said he wanted me to have it for, you know, when I was ready to ask a girl to marry me. Apparently it was his mom's, but she gave it to him, before she kicked the bucket."

"I didn't know he'd kept it." I whisper tightly.

"Can I try it on, Nanna?" I asked Maggie Hummel, climbing onto her lap.

"Honey, I haven't taken this off in 60 years." She laughed.

My eyes widened-- I couldn't wrap my head around that. That was like, ten times how old I was!

I pouted slightly, touching the bright blue jewel around her finger.

"It's so pretty." I murmured.

"I'll tell you what," She said, turning my small frame around to face her. "After I'm gone, it's all yours."

"Really? Thank you!" I smiled. "But what if I'm already married when that happens?"

"I'm real old, sweetie, I don't have too many years left." She chuckled. "Now I'm gonna leave it with your daddy, and when you're older, I want you to give it to a girl that's really special, okay?"

"Okay." I whispered, not daring to tell her that I didn't wanna give it to some girl, I wanted to wear it myself.

"Is this cool with you, dude?" Finn asks me, seeing my expression.

Don't cry. Kurt Hummel, if you cry, I will never speak to you again.

"Of course." It holds no value to you. Man up. Guys don't get emotional over jewelry. "Rachel will love it, I'm sure."

It's Dad's mom's. He has the right to pass it on to whomever he wants.

But she wanted me to have it.

Dad probably didn't even know.

But even if he didn't know, shouldn't he have given it to his own son? Finn never even knew her.

It's out of your hands now. Just let it be.

Finn is getting engaged. This is huge.

Be happy for him. Don't be selfish.

I cloud my brain over, and force a genuine smile onto my face.

"Just let me know if you need anything, and I'm there. Okay, brother?"

Finn nods. "Thank, man." He grins, putting the box back into his pocket.

Just then, Rachel comes out of the kitchen, announcing, "Dinner's ready, boys!"

My head whips toward her in a nanosecond, and I glare daggers, seething.

That bitch doesn't deserve it--

Her eyes widen infinitesimally at the look I'm giving her.

Woah.

Shit, relax. She hasn't done anything wrong.

Breathe.

I force my facial muscles to relax and school my expression to one of warmth immediately. Her brows furrow, apparently doubting herself.

"Thanks Rachel. I'm just gonna use the bathroom first." I walk past her toward the room that's become my only private place.

I dry heave over the toilet for a good three minutes before I can feel some semblance of normalcy again.

I exit the bathroom and make my way to the table at which everyone is eating. Rachel and Finn smile in my direction as I take a seat. Only Blaine is looking at me with worry and confusion in his eyes. He's been doing that a lot today.

I'm not hungry anymore and each bite I take just makes me more nauseous than the last.