Trust me.
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Trust me.: Like farther, Like son.


T - Words: 871 - Last Updated: Aug 12, 2012
Story: Complete - Chapters: 36/36 - Created: Jun 29, 2012 - Updated: Apr 13, 2022
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Author's Notes:

 

Chapter 4.

Farther, Son. 

Dear Diary.

I signed up for a competition today. It's this singing thing, we have to perform a song that explains our personality. Unfortuantly I don't think my personality is what people want to hear. Not that I'm good at the whole dancing thing, I used to think I was good until I watched back the christmas clip of me singing Lady Gaga and I got a bit carried away with being the whole diva. Even finding a song which I could normally pick in seconds was proving difficult. Who am I? And where has Kurt Hummel disapeared off too. 

The winner gets a chance to perform in front of the team guys from NYADA. My performance has to be perfect or I can only kiss my dreams goodbye. My future was decided in a few seconds. How can you match a song to your personality when you were so unsure of who you are?

"Kurt are we going to do this, or are we just going to stand around staring into space?" Rachel barked out her orders.

I blinked, "Sorry, what?" 

Artie dropped his hands and the camera turned off. "I've only got an hour of shooting, I need to attend my cousins Baptism. Or something" he fixed his glasses.

"Sorry, Okay. Lets do this." I nodded.

"Have you chose your song?" Rachel smiled.

"I'm thinking a  Beyonce aproach. She's a big diva"

She exchanged looks with Artie. 

"Is there a problem with my artist of choice?" I asked, putting a hand on my hip.

"No, no not at all" She shook her head, trying to smile.

"Good. But I am unable to film today. I need to get my routine sorted. Outfit prepared and all that jazz" I flicked my fingers together.

"Okay, so we'll drop by later and see how you're getting on?" Rachel asked, the wind moved her hair across her face.

"No I should be okay." I didn't wait for a reply either, I pushed my sachel over my shoulder and headed off in the opposite direction. 

--

I pushed open the gate, it creaked as it closed after me. I was severa feet away from my mum. I'd not yet been able to get a foot closer to her. Every time I tried, I felt something push against my chest. Not allowing me to go further. Another step would just be too hard to even consider. Besides I could talk to her from where I stood.. besides it would be wet and muddy and these shoes were barely a month old. She's apreciate the quiet any way. 

I sighed at my own excuses knowing how pathetic they would sound if ever said outloud. 

The clouds covered the sky like a fresh fluffy blanket. "What do you think about me doing Beyonce for the competition?" I smiled a little. "I know you like her, you had that routine to single ladies.." I giggled imaginging her face. The sun broke through the clouds and shone on my skin, The slightly warm graze like the back of a hand. "I could do single ladies." I mumbled. "It's perfect.. I could even use your routine." The wind picked up again and I closed my eyes, "It says a lot about me doesn't it? well me and you.. I think it does. Those times we spent just dancing around the kitchen, while the food was normally burning." I smiled and nodded my head. Pretty please with my choice. "Thanks mum. You were always so supportive." I closed the gate and turned away, "Don't flirt too much in heaven, You know how dad gets jealous" I said as I walked away. 

Dad was waiting for me when I returned to home. He was sat at the kitchen table, a notebook in front of him. "Kurt" He said.

I walked to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of water. "Dad" I nodded in return.

"We need to talk" He sighed, pushing a chair  out with his foot, Which I sat down in. "I want us to be able to tak to each other about stuff." 

"About stuff?" I questioned, taking a swig of water. 

"You and the depressive attitude. Your mum, everything that gets you down"

"Dad it's okay. I know you're not the emotional type, and I understand that. So don't pressure yourself." 

"I'm your dad Kurt, I'm supposed to feel pressured."

I lent back on my chair and raised an eyebrow at him. "Go on.."

"Maybe we could have a meeting or something to get things of your chest."

"Dad.. really I'm-"

"Or at least eat together.. we could discuss our day."

I was going to argue the case but his eyes wern't lying. He was normally full of this bored glaze but now he only showed concern. "Sure" I shrugged.

"So tonight, I'm thinking.. a nice bit of chicken. My famous potatoe wedges." 

I smiled gently, "Alright. I need to practise for something though."

"What is it?''

"Just some school stuff. So uhm call me when you've made it." I got up out of my seat.


"Sure thing, son. I'll get started now" He smiled.

I'd got to half up the stairs, I could see quite clearly into the kitchen. I forced another smile. He turned and hummed under his breath, while collecting potatoes from under the bottom cupboard. I continued to climb and closed my bedroom door behind me.

Another day down.

 

 


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