Part Five – Age 14 – Mercedes

Freshman Year

Mercedes was one of three children; she had an older brother and a younger sister.  It wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't common either.  Since the introduction of Fabs, most families stuck to having one or two children per government recommendation.  But she loved her family, even though it was taxing at times to be the middle child.  She had never cared much for meeting the status quo.

Maybe that was why Kurt had caught her eye at only four years of age.  Even then—even among typically complacent, accepting preschool children—Kurt stood out.  Kurt was different.

Mercedes wanted to be different, too.  She wanted to shine.  And yeah, maybe Kurt hadn't turned out to be the right kind of different to help her reach that goal, but he was the best friend she'd ever known, and damn if she was going to let him go.  They'd been sent to different elementary schools, and still they had stuck together—through lost pets (Mercedes' Yorkie,) dead parents (Kurt's mother) and bullying.

And then, at only thirteen, Kurt got a Fab.  It was the first thing that almost broke them.

Jealousy.

Mercedes' father was a dentist—a careful, practical man who sincerely wanted the best for his children, but didn't much care to take their own opinions into consideration as to what, precisely, the best was.  Each of his offspring had savings accounts that he added to every month religiously so that when they reached the age of eighteen, they could order themselves a custom Fab.

No sooner.  No arguments.

So when she showed up at Kurt's house on an ordinary Sunday and was, seemingly out of the blue, introduced to Finn, she wasn't quite sure how to react.  Finn didn't say much—probably because he was still so new—but he was tall, handsome, and Mercedes could see why Kurt had picked him.  She could even see why Kurt's parents had encouraged it, because yeah, Finn looked like he could take out a linebacker.

But it didn't stop the way she felt.  Five years seemed a lot longer to wait when your best friend suddenly and unexpectedly had the very thing you wanted most, something and someone of their very own, a place to belong. 

Mercedes had never really had anything she could call her own.

She tried to hide her feelings, really she did, but now every moment she spent with Kurt, he was there too.  They say Fabs adapt to their owners, but it was obvious from the very start that Finn didn't understand about things like fashion or boys or musicals.  He didn't seem to like having his nails painted, showed a clear preference for plain clothing over the more flamboyant articles Kurt tried to sew for him, and would rather spend his time watching sports with Burt or fixing cars in the shop than gossiping and flipping through magazines.  He wasn't unkind about it; he really tried to make Kurt happy, and Kurt was good to him in return.  They had formed a bond despite their glaring differences, and it was this, oddly enough, that made Mercedes more envious than all the rest.  Who did she have who would look past all the ways she was different—her weight, her diva-esque attitude, her penchant for all that was glitzy and glamorous—and love her in spite of it?

Eventually she snapped, fed up with the awkward way Finn would stare past the television screen, look down at his hands every few minutes when he forgot he was supposed to be watching until Kurt reminded him, and he'd resolutely try again.

“Kurt, why don't you just let the poor boy be?  It's clear he doesn't appreciate State Fair!  Hell, even I think this musical is boring; it's old as the hills!”

Kurt looked startled for a moment, glancing at Finn carefully to gage his reaction, but he was again staring down, avoiding Kurt's eyes.  “Finn's fine,” Kurt declared at last.  “And what is with you lately, anyways?  We're trying to learn the duet, but if you don't care to watch you're free to leave!”

It wasn't the first time they'd bickered with each other, not by any means, but it was the first time Mercedes felt prepared to let it escalate.

“Maybe I will,” she said stubbornly.  “Being home is sure better than playing third fiddle to your pathetic little love affair.”

Kurt gasped then, tears springing to his eyes.  “I can't believe you just said that!”

“Yeah, well,” Mercedes looked away from him as a pang of regret shot through her.  “Somebody needed to.”

“You're supposed to be my friend,” Kurt retorted, raising his chin in the air even as his voice trembled.  “If you don't care to be then really—get out.  Finn and I will be just fine on our own.”

“Fine then!” Mercedes said just as stubbornly, grabbing her purse and marching to the bedroom door.  “But don't expect me to come back!”

“I wouldn't want you to,” Kurt shouted, then turned back to the TV, a clear dismissal, and Mercedes headed downstairs to call her mom.  Luckily Carole didn't ask any questions, watching her with sympathy as she waited on the couch for her ride.

She called Kurt three days later.  “I'm sorry,” she confessed, forcing the words past the lump in her throat.  “I'm… I'm jealous, Kurt.  That you have Finn.  I get why you needed him but it's just that I don't get to have that until after high school and it just seems like forever right now and I'm just… I'm sorry,” she finished lamely.

Kurt sighed on the other end of the phone.  “It's alright.  I'm sorry too.  And… you know, ‘Cedes… Finn isn't you.  He can't replace you.  And someday you'll have a Fab too, and then it can be the four of us and things will be easier; you'll see.  And maybe… maybe next Sunday I'll let Finn help my dad at the shop for a bit.”

“That would be nice,” Mercedes said, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from her.  “I really miss you, Boo.  I think we need some quality time.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed.  “That sounds perfect.  So… things will be better.”

“Yep,” Mercedes answered him.  “And next year they'll really be better.  Let me tell you what happened to my brother in gym class today…”

Things did get better between them, especially, as predicted, the following Fall when they were finally, finally at the same school.  Unfortunately, aside from that and Glee club, which they both joined, ninth grade pretty much sucked.

It took Mercedes a while to see it, but eventually she had to admit… maybe it sucked for Kurt a little bit more.

Finn was well-liked for a Fab, particularly after joining the football team, and when he was around no one messed with Kurt, and if they did Finn put a stop to it.  But sometimes he had different classes.  Sometimes he wasn't there and when that happened, Kurt paid.

It was the little things.  Taunts and shoves and the occasional threat, mostly from other jocks.  Mercedes tried to talk to her friend about it, tried to get Kurt to go to Finn, explain what was happening behind his back, but Kurt always brushed her off.

“It's nothing, ‘Cedes,” he would tell her, smiling faintly.  “Really, I'm fine.  You should… you should see what it used to be like, before Finn.  I'm lucky now.  I have him, and I have you.”

“And Glee club,” Mercedes pointed out, even though she knew that the club, too, was yet another place where Kurt had to fight to be heard, tomatter.  Some days she wanted to punch Rachel Berry in the face for her own sake, but most days she wanted to punch the diva for Kurt.

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed, “and Glee club.”  He looped their arms together and began to guide her down the hallway, talking excitedly about the sales the mall was having the coming weekend, and it was easy to go along with it.

It was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong, to buy Kurt's lies and phony smiles.  Kurt had always been a complex person, so it took some time for Mercedes to pinpoint what exactly it was her friend was feeling—something basic and human and raw.  Kurt was sad.

Somehow, Mercedes had to get him to talk.  It wasn't going to be easy; she would have to approach it the right way.

It took months, but then one week they were watching The Notebook—a popular movie about a rich girl who fell in love with a poor boy the summer before her father was meant to order her a Fab—and Kurt, rather predictably, started to cry.

“That's just how life is, Mercedes, isn't it?” he ranted halfway through the film.  “You think you've found a good thing but somehow it never lasts; life is never quite what you expected.  I know this will end well, but it's a movie… real life never works that way.”

“Kurt,” Mercedes said softly.  This could be it: her moment to get through to him.  She grabbed the remote from where it rested on the floor between them and paused the movie, turning to give him her full attention.  “Something's wrong, and it has been for a while.  You wanna talk about it?”

Kurt sighed, his whole body heaving with it, and his chin began to tremble as the tears came anew.  “Things with Finn… they… they aren't what I hoped.”

“Okay,” Mercedes said, reaching to cover his hand with her own.

“We got him to help protect me, you know that, and… he does, or at least he does his best.  But I don't know; I guess when I picked him I expected… they told me he would like me, that he would come to be more like me, and we just haven't… connected that way?  I know he loves me, but sometimes it feels like our relationship is such a burden to him.  I can't… I can't make him happy, Mercedes.”

“Oh Kurt…”

“And then I thought—and I know this is stupid—but I thought that once I got a Fab, that my life would magically get better.  Like maybe I'd make more friends, and people would start to like me, and I'd feel like I… belonged, somewhere.  But I don't.  Nothing's changed; I'm still just that weird kid that nobody understands.”  He pulled his hand away from hers, wiped furiously at his eyes.

“I understand.  Or at least I try to, Kurt.”

Kurt offered her a watery smile.  “I know.  And I appreciate you so much, Mercedes, really I do.  It's just… I still want more.”  He shrugged helplessly.  “I know it's stupid to want things you can't have, but I can't help it.”

“You'll have more,” Mercedes said confidently.  “We both will someday.  It just takes time.  Eventually we'll be adults, and things will get better.  We'll make it better.  You'll be a famous fashion designer, or on Broadway, or whatever, and I'll be on the radio.  We'll show all of them!”

“Yeah,” Kurt said, beaming now through his tears.  “That sounds perfect.”

Mercedes sighed and turned to face the TV.  “High school sucks.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed.

“So you want to make some brownies before we finish crying over the movie?”  She didn't know about Kurt, but chocolate always lifted her spirits.

“That sounds perfect!  With nuts though!  And caramel!”

Mercedes knew there was a reason Kurt was her best friend.

As they made their way down to the kitchen, Mercedes' thoughts drifted back to their conversation.  Maybe, just maybe, having a Fab was more complicated than she'd ever realized.  Maybe waiting a few years wouldn't be so bad.

Maybe eighteen wasn't too far off after all.