#Kurt would still do everything but complain the whole way through the sickness and also not accept help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

not beyond repair (13/?)

ao3

January is a funny time in the school year. There’s little actual work to be done and handed in and graded but the aura of stress clings to the walls of the school and especially to the seniors, now staring down the barrel of that final stretch of the school year. The post-Christmas buzz still stubbornly hangs around and can be seen in the quiet moments before Miss Fleming enters homeroom, the weeks of stretching out on couches and gorging oneself on mince pies and pricey chocolates not wanting to go away so easily. Veronica can feel it now, in the early morning when she’s sitting on her desk, her fingers ghosting along JD’s coat, Martha sitting at her side and Heather on the desk behind, idly stroking Martha’s hair in a secret gesture of affection. All they have is fifteen minutes. Fifteen precious minutes where they can pretend high school isn’t a real thing with real world consequences.

“Also, there’s a pretty extensive Patrick Kavanagh collection in the school library,” JD goes on, his eyes lighting up the way they always do when he starts talking about literature. If there was a way to make her fall harder for him, it was when he was like this, caught up in his love for the written word, rambling on about any and all books he had read, particularly when it came to the poets. Watching the way he came alive when poetry was brought up was worth the confusion she wasn’t unused to feeling when he was talking, the feeling that she was struggling to keep up with him. “I checked it out when I first got here. No other place has ever had as much Irish poetry as Wester-”

He breaks off into a minor coughing fit, his shoulders shaking beneath Veronica’s hands. He still hasn’t shaken off that flu it seems, despite him swearing to God he was fine when he came back. Part of her, the protective part formed over years of being friends with Martha and just her own instincts, wants to grab him and check his temperature and try to force him down to the lobby to wait for Claire to pick him up. And the other part, well…

“I would try not to say, ‘I told you so’,” she says. “But I did tell you so.”

“You didn’t,” he says, the worst of it seemingly over.

“I told you it was contagious and you were the one insisting on your tough immune system.”

“You did tell me to get into the bed,” he reminds her.

“Yeah you did tell him to do that, in fairness,” Heather adds, leaning forwards on her knees. Veronica raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘whose side are you on here. I was your friend first.’ “But also… everyone got sick at some point. Last week my chemistry class was three people. And one of them was sneezing too.”

“I didn’t,” Martha reminds them, a confident edge in her voice that would have been foreign last year. Veronica suppresses a smile as she watches Heather keep running her hands through her hair. That girl’s doing wonders for her girl.

“Yeah, Dunnstock how are you the only one in our entire grade who didn’t get sick?” JD asks, coughing into his sleeve. Veronica finds her hand on his shoulder and tighter than before, her eyes moving over this face. Still looking healthy, his cheeks their normal colour, but that doesn’t stop the way her feet tap anxiously against the desk.

“My mom’s a nurse,” she explains with a shrug. “Which means I’ve had every vaccine there is to get. Sometimes twice.”

“That and her immune system is just generally a beast,” Veronica adds. “It’s why your mom let you stay over when I had chicken pox when we were 6.”

“That too,” she replies with a small grin. She ducks her head slightly so that her hair falls forwards a little. Behind her, Heather frowns for a moment before continuing to stoke her hair, taking a moment after each one to scratch her back with featherlight fingernails.

“Good morning class.” Veronica suppresses a groan as Fleming comes through the door, breaking the gentle hum of the room and bringing in the reality of morning announcements and codes of conduct.

“My cue to leave,” JD says with a grimace, lifting his bag onto his shoulder. “See you guys later. I’ll save your seat in English for you, Dunnstock.”

“Thanks,” Martha says, her attention elsewhere. Her focus is on Heather as she moves slowly back to the place she picked out at the start of the year, with the rest of the Heathers, and Kurt just behind her, sneaking glances at her out of the corner of his eye. She can’t miss the protective flash in her friend’s eyes, nor the way her hand curls into a fist on the desk.

“I’ll see you later, darling,” JD says, squeezing her hand gently before heading out the door, avoiding Fleming’s watchful gaze. Although he does take a moment at Heather’s desk to tap the back of her chair and whisper something in her ear. Veronica can’t make it out, and it may have been nothing for all she knows. But it has an effect on Kurt, who turns away from her. If he had been planning anything, it’s gone now.

Veronica slides into her seat, the date written sharply across the blackboard catching her eye; January 12th, 1990. Gone are the 1980s and everything that came with them. On the lead up to New Year’s Eve the news was full of events that shook the world in the past decade; the assassination of a Beatle and of a Pope, the election of a new President that happened just when she was old enough to dip her toes into politics, the fall of a wall on another continent. They’ll all be in history books on day, maybe not too far away, but all she can think about (selfish, she knows) is her own life. From 1980 to 1990. Middle school to high school and everything that came with both of them, dreams she’d thought were so far away getting closer and closer and she’s trying to take every step with all the grace and poise she’d hoped. Now she’s here, staring down the barrel of a new decade that’s even less certain than the last. From seven going on eight to seventeen going on eighteen-

Holy crap.

“It’s my birthday next week.” She’s proud of how offhand she sounds. She certainly doesn’t sound like she was rehearsing this for the first two periods of her school day and refining it all the way up to lunch. It seems stupid and it probably is, especially if you asked someone like Heather Chandler with her 17,000 friends but for her it was years of her and Martha eating cake in her room, maybe a year or two with Betty in the mix as well. But now she’s upgraded from one friend to three. Well, two and a boyfriend. Which is new territory for her, birthday-wise.

“I know,” JD replies, pushing the baby tomatoes out of his salad. “Which is why I have already got my eye set on your gift,” he adds, budging his floor gently against hers under the lunch table.

“No,” she tells him, fighting a blush as she pokes his cheek. “I don’t need presents. What I do need is you guys.” Her friends look up at her, all three frowning a the bluntness of her statement and two raising eyebrows in an identical fashion, both conveying the message ‘I’m getting you a gift whether you like it or not’.

“Can you clarify what you mean by that?” Heather asks, wrinkling her nose. “Because that sounded really weird without context.”

“It did, didn’t it?” she replies, giggling along with the rest of her lunch table. At least Heather had the grace to hide it behind her hands. “Okay, okay so… I was just thinking we get together next weekend for something. Maybe my place. Or the bowling alley just reopened, we could go there. Get food after.”

“Question,” JD interrupts, his elbow on the table and his finger in the air. “Will there be cake?”

“Of course there will be cake,” she tells him, tapping his cheek playfully. “Keep up, babe.” She turns to the other two, a surprising nervous energy about her. She starts a gentle run through JD’s hair, hoping to calm herself. “Are you guys in?”

“Of course I’m in,” Martha says with a fond smile. Veronica grins; if there was ever an affectionate way to say ‘duh, idiot’, of course Martha would have figured it out. “I’m always in.”

“Great.” One down… her gaze moves to Heather, whose hand slowly creeps over Martha’s, but her eyes meet Veronica’s and show nothing but the same sparkling enthusiasm she had seen back when she was giving her makeovers.

“I’d love to,” she says. “And since it’s your birthday, I can take the liberty of planning it.”

“Heather, that’s sweet, but you don’t have to.”

“Yes I do,” she interrupts insistently. She pulls herself back just a little. “Besides I’m really good at it. Chandler and Duke used to get me to plan everything.”

“Okay,” she replies quickly, not wanting her their former friends’ presence to linger. “I trust you Heather.”

“And I trust her judgement,” JD replies, pointing in her direction with a fry. “And you, I guess.”

“Flattered,” she replies flatly, cocking an eyebrow. He gives her wink before looking past her for a brief moment, toying with the sleeve of his coat.

“Just a minute ladies, nature calls.” He kisses Veronica’s temple swiftly, his fingers delicately touching on the back of her hand. She feels a light, barely-there blush creep over her face and gentle warmth on her skin as she whispers ‘okay’ and squeezes his hand

“Are you going to do that to all of us or just her?” Heather asks. “Because I don’t think my girlfriend would be happy if you did it to all of us.”

*****

He takes a minute to scope out the men’s room first. He’s planned this about as carefully as he can, down to the minute. And it’s a pain in his ass, keeping one eye on the clock and the other on his lunch table, his little orange bottle sitting patiently in the pocket of his coat the whole time. Kissing his girlfriend and making like it’s just a normal bathroom run.

He keeps his eyes on his reflection as he twists the bottle open. Maybe he can pretend it’s someone else if he does it like that.

He doesn’t hate the meds. Not them specifically. In fact since they do their job right and keep his brain in check he can’t find anything to complain about. But… there’s the small issue of taking them to school, taking them in school. The old ones were pop one in the morning and go about his day. The new ones are one every lunch time which is… less than ideal. Especially considering lunch is the only point in his day when his entire friend group is together, given their fragmented school schedules. The rest of the days are a pick and mix of when he sees them-Martha three times a week in English, Heather twice a week in history and Veronica twice a week in social studies, not counting their little moments before and after classes, stolen away in their garden or behind the lockers or against the window. Those moments don’t last long enough to count. He wants to make the time he has count, not just with her but with Martha and Heather too.

And then there’s the other thing. The fact that this is another thing. Therapists is one thing, one thing that’s relatively normal, tied to the ground and doesn’t make heads turn so much. It doesn’t have too many negative associations, except in the older or less liberal citizens of Sherwood. But therapy is something she can understand and he can be okay with her knowing. These little guys in their little orange bottle aren’t so much.

He knocks two back, taking a swig from the water fountain, and closes the little bottle again before checking his own reflection. He pulls his hair over his face a little, letting it fall forwards into his eyes and leans on the sink, the boy in the mirror seeming to frown at him.

“Don’t give me that look, bitch,” he mutters to him. He taps the lid of the bottle with his finger. “These keep our brain in order. And for that we thank them for their service.” He turns to leave and puts the bottle back in his pocket just in the nick of time it seems; the door clicks and creaks open.

And doesn’t he just love the one who walks in.

JD’s old survival instincts kick in when Kurt enters, an everyday occurrence in both their lives suddenly and abruptly turning into a showdown. Two go in, one goes out.

He briefly considers that maybe Claire’s right when she calls him melodramatic.

“What’re you doing?” Kurt asks, stopping in his tracks, his mouth twisting in to a snarl.

“That should be obvious,” he replies flatly. His hand curls into a tight fist at his side so hard that his nails press into his palms. He doesn’t hide the fact that that he doesn’t like Kurt and hasn’t since his first day in Westerberg (both of them), but it’s different from how he feels about Ram or Heather Chandler or Heather Duke. He can’t forget the shiner on Macnamara’s cheek on Halloween night, the way she trembled in the half-light of Veronica’s living room, how small and fragile and breakable she seemed for the first time since they met.

“What’re you staring at?” he says harshly, taking another step towards JD. He doesn’t necessarily take a step back. It’s more of a stumble.

“Nothing.” He dodges around him and tries to make for the door, only for him to be caught on the shoulder. He tries to swallow but his throat is dry. He keeps his eyes on the poster about washing our hands on the wall. If only that poster could be the only thing in the room right now. Instead Kurt’s beside him, his hand slipping into his pocket-

“No!” He jerks away from him but it’s too little too late; his little bottle sits in the palm of Kurt’s hand and a wicked glint is in Kurt’s eye. He tries to breathe slowly and deeply, to put his chaotic thoughts in some form of order. “That’s mine!”

“Dude…” A wide grin spreads over his face, unfamiliar in its enthusiasm and its lack of mockery or cruel intent. “You do drugs?”

“No, I don’t!” he snaps. “Just give it back!”

“Or what?” he taunts, tossing the bottle from one hand to the other. Every time it lands, JD flinches and he realises trying not to is pointless. His fist gets tighter and it feels like his body is a wound up coil ready to jump. He knows it would be easy enough to give into that urge and it would work. But that’s only easy for a minute. Then after that it’s detentions and phone calls and awkward car rides and having to explain himself to Veronica and then having to promise Claire he’ll do better. And yeah, he cares. So he keeps all of that in his tightly curled fist and traps it there.

“You know ‘or what’,” he whispers, raising an eyebrow. “Especially now that Ram’s not around to protect you.”

Kurt scoffs and rolls his eyes, but it’s smoke and mirrors. If anyone knows the difference between not caring and just pretending, it’s probably JD. It’s definitely JD. He doesn’t move an inch, putting the ball in Kurt’s court and hoping he’ll do what he needs him to.

“Psycho,” he mutters, chucking the bottle in his direction. He manages to catch it and puts it back in his pocket, where it belongs. “I don’t get what Veronica sees in you.”

“Me neither, buddy,” he replies. But she sees something and they’re making something. And that’s what he’s going back out to.

******

“What are you grinning at?” Veronica asks, bumping her arm up against Martha’s as they sit in the parking lot, waiting for her mom’s car. A rare day off for Martha’s mom means that she can give her daughter a ride home, and when she says her daughter, that includes Veronica, of course. Martha herself as been smiling at something in her planner, something she’s tried and failed not to smile at. Veronica has a strong idea of who the culprit is but that hardly stops her from being nosy. If anything it makes her more nosy.

“This,” she says, passing the book over to her. In the corner of the second page of the ‘notes’ section is a little flower drawn in pink pen, simple in its design, with a small scribbled message next to it ‘you’re so smart-it’s amazing’. Her hunch was right-the handwriting is unmistakable, and besides, only one person could make Martha blush like that. “She wrote it during study hall when I went to the bathroom. I didn’t even notice until now.”

“Sappy girl,” she says fondly, handing her back her notebook. “I’m glad though. That she’s making you happy.”

“Thanks,” she says, pulling her jacket over her hands. Her smile falters a little.

“Hey.” Her hand comes over Martha’s. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. Veronica cocks her head at her. Really, Martha should know better than to lie to her by now. “It’s just… I like Heather so much. But I can’t bring her home or tell my mom about her.”

“You haven’t told her yet?” Martha shakes her head, looking out across the lot. Veronica isn’t sure if she should be flattered or confused or depressed that Martha’s told her but not her own mom. No matter what she’s feeling inside, Veronica rubs her shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s complicated,” she says. “Like… I know my mom isn’t… she doesn’t hate gay people. I know that. Every time there’s news of some new hate crime she always talks about how bad it is. But it’s not even the gay thing… okay it’s a little the gay thing. But telling my mom that I have someone, it…”

“It brings her into it,” Veronica finishes it. “And then it’s not just you two… it’s you two plus your mom. And it brings her into your family.”

“Exactly,” Martha agrees, nodding. A knowing smile creeps across her face. “So I take it you haven’t told your parents about JD?”

“Not… quite yet,” she admits delicately, making Martha laugh. “I mean- have you met my mom!”

“I love your mom!”

“Yeah, you don’t live with her!” she reminds her, pushing her gently. “Can you imagine what would happen if she knew about me and JD? She’d be insufferable.”

“But…”

“Can we go back to when this conversation was about you?” she asks. Martha shakes her head, her ponytail falling over her shoulder.

“Nope.” Veronica laughs and leans back, her arm sitting on top of the railing.

“Okay. But… I don’t know… maybe I just like the idea of taking JD home.” She pushes her hair out of her face. “On the other hand I could just hide him from my parents forever.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can. Our wedding will just be an outrageously fancy dinner and we’ll do our vows while my parents are in the bathroom.” Martha bursts into laughter, covering her mouth with her hand and burying her face in her hand.

“Will that work?”

“Of course it will,” she says, more than satisfied by her little fantasy world.

“Doesn’t his mom know about you though?” she asks, just as her mom’s car pulls into the parking lot, alerting them with a quick honk of the horn.

“Yeah,” she says, getting up. “But… that’s different.” Martha squints at her behind her glasses, her head cocking ever so slightly. “Okay it’s… kind of different.”

“Maybe,” Martha admits just as they approach her mom’s car. “But if you’ve met his family...” Her voice trails off and she doesn’t need to finish that sentence.

“Sometimes I really don’t like when you’re right,” Veronica grumbles. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she just saw Martha smile at that.

Her mom is sitting on the couch when she comes in, her dad at the stove. Wednesday night, his turn to cook. Judging by the half-empty tub of chilli powder on the counter, his adventures in Mexican foods are not over yet and Veronica’s tonsils may be in danger of being blown off.

“Hey, pumpkin,” her dad greets as she sets her bag down. “Don’t eat anything it’ll spoil your appetite.”

“Doubtful,” she replies, filling up her water bottle at the sink. She turns the faucet a little too tightly but its not like she can help it. She’s standing with her hand on the doorknob, about to let her real life and her family life mix and there’s one way it can end; an embarrassing, awkward disaster. And maybe she’s being melodramatic, and more than likely nothing much will change once she tells them and they’re over this hill. But it’s driving up the damn hill that’s the challenge.

“Hey, so, for my birthday,” she begins, pressing the tip of her bottle into her palm. She leans against the counter, hoping she comes off casual. “Could I go out with a few friends on Saturday?”

“Sure, honey,” her mom says, getting up from the couch and making her way over to her. She tries to think if she’s ever heard Claire call JD ‘honey’. ‘Kid’, sure, plenty of times, but as much as Claire is probably the loveliest adult she’s ever met, she doesn’t strike Veronica as the honey type. Probably because, unlike her own parents, Claire recognises that JD is months away from being a legal adult. “Which friends? Martha and Heather? And JD?”

“Yeah. Just those three. We think we’re going to go bowling and get some food.”

“A boy at your party, Ronnie?” her dad says. Veronica groans out loud, rewarded with a disapproving look from her mom. She holds her hands up in surrender. “Just… you’ve never had a boy at your birthday party before. Not since kindergarten.”

“Yeah because Mom said I had to invite my whole class so no-one felt left out,” she reminds him. Certain people were perfectly fine with leaving her out, but that didn’t seem to matter to her parents back then. She wonders for a second if Heather Chandler’s mom ever told her that she had to invite the whole class. If she did, the message obviously didn’t take. “But I’m nearly 18 now.”

“And in any case, JD’s just a friend, right sweetheart?” her mom asks, rubbing her arm. She meets her mom’s gaze for a brief second, the same colour and shade, one pair blissfully ignorant and excited and the other reprehensive and awkward. She could just turn around and agree with her, let her parents keep thinking she’s a happy little single with no interest in mingling. Could be easier for all of them. Or not.

“Well, not exactly,” she admits. She squeezes the bottle in her hand, making crinkles on the plastic, and closes her eyes, bracing herself. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Whatever she was expecting, her dad’s wooden spoon hitting the kitchen floor was… well, not it.

“Boyfriend?” her dad echoes, his voice a strange mixture of mad and shocked. If she had the spine, she’d ask what exactly he has to be bad about.

“Boyfriend!” her mom squeaks, on the opposite end of the spectrum to her dad. She grabs her hand tightly. “Oh well Veronica that’s wonderful. How long have you been together, did you ask him out, does his family know?”

“Okay one question at a time, Mom,” she says, half laughing. “Just since… since November I guess. And yeah, Claire knows.” It’s a little white lie. Those don’t hurt, right?

“Since November?” her dad asks, seemingly calmer now. “Explains why you got him that stuffed cat for Christmas.”

“And why he got you that beautiful necklace,” her mom explains. “Aw, Veronica, I’m so happy for you.”

“Okay,” she replies, ducking out of her mom’s embrace before she can start squishing her cheeks. She straightens her skirt and turns around, facing her ecstatic mom and her dad, who’s still trying to process what she told him. “So… you guys are okay with it?”

“Of course we are! As long as you’re happy-”

“I want to meet him,” her dad interrupts flatly, throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder.

“What?”

“I want to meet him. Your boyfriend. I want to meet him if this thing is serious.”

‘Serious?’ she thinks. ‘Who said anything about serious?’

Maybe JD’s crumbled bedsheets and the butterfly at the base of her throat did.

“Dad,” she sighs. She looks over to her mom for help, an ally, literally any solidarity here, and just finds a shrug.

“Well, if you’re with him… I’d like to meet him too,” she says. “I’m sure he’s a lovely young man. But… it’s normally standard procedure that your parents meet your boyfriend.”

“Come on,” she sighs. She knows they’re right, of course, but that’s only because standard procedure is working against her. Doesn’t make her agree with it.

“Well, Ronnie, what could go wrong?” her mom asks, wringing her hands together.

‘So freaking much,’ she thinks.

“Nothing,” she admits with a defeated sigh. “Fine, I’ll bring him over.”

“Wonderful,” her mom says, clapping her hands together. “Well, what about Friday night? I can make my chicken casserole; we can all sit down and-”

“He has something on on Friday,” she interrupts, crossing her arms over her body. “Something he can’t get out of.”

“What is it?” her dad asks, raising an eyebrow.

“An appointment,” she replies. She tries not to bite her lip, but her dad seems to take it and nods, dropping the subject.

“Well, what about Saturday?” he asks. “He can come over before you go out with your friends. We can sit down, all talk together-”

“Talk about what exactly?” she asks.

“Well, you’re my only daughter,” he admits. “And I want to make sure he’s… right for you.”

“Oh my god!” she says.

“Language,” her mom reminds her.

“Okay,” she says, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “But… please don’t pull the ‘she’s my only child’ thing on him when he’s here.”

“I won’t,” her dad says, shrugging unconvincingly. Veronica and her mom both raise their eyebrows at him, keeping their eyes on him until he begins to cave. “I won’t… too much.”

“Nice try, Dad,” she says, laughing unexpectedly, turning to go upstairs and make a start on her homework before her dad calls her back.

“Hey… I’m glad you’re happy, hon.”

“Thank you,” she replies, smiling for real for the first time since she came in.

What exactly had she been worried about?

She brings up the prospect to JD in social studies while waiting for their teacher to get in. Having come in a few weeks into the school year, JD didn’t get the chance to grab the seat next to her; he sits two rows in front, three seats to the right. She worked that out the first class they had together. Maybe that’s what ‘having it bad’ is like. For now she squats on the floor next to him, grateful for their teacher’s lack of punctuality.

“Would me meeting your parents make you happy?” he asks, stroking her hair gently.

“Not particularly,” she admits. “Honestly I’d be happier keeping you away from my parents until the day we both die.”

“Worried they won’t like me or I won’t like them?”

“Worried my mom will be showing you my baby photos,” she replies.

“I would love that.”

“I wouldn’t.” He pokes the dimple in her cheek, grinning back at her. “So you’ll come over?”

“Of course I will,” he tells her. “Anything for you, Ronnie.” She scrunches up her face, trying but failing to disguise the butterflies in her stomach. Is it normal to still have butterflies at this stage? Maybe not, but the romantic in her hopes they last as long as she and JD do.

“Get a room, you two,” Chandler sighs, one row behind and three seats to the right. She files her nails, sitting on her own and yet still looking unbothered and powerful the way only she can. Alone by choice. She doesn’t look at them, instead raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow in mild annoyance.

JD rubs her arm just as the bell rings and Veronica has to get up, stretch her stiff legs and run over to her own desk before Ms Noel can bust her for being out of her seat.

*****

Claire, surprisingly, is in the living room when he gets home and that’s not the only thing that’s unusual. The TV is pulled out from the wall and she’s squatting behind it, glasses on her head, sleeves rolled up, her face screwed up in concentration so intense she doesn’t seem to notice JD until he’s right beside her, and even then she smiles at him and asks how school was as casually as she would if he found her in the kitchen or her study, as he almost always had.

“What are you doing to our TV?” he asks.

“It’s been wonky all week,” she says, swinging a thick wire around. He takes a step back. “Colour blinking on and off, the sound not working. I’m trying to fix it.”

“Why don’t you just call someone?”

“Because I’m not wasting money on asking someone to do something that I can clearly do myself,” she tells him, looking up at him with a self-satisfied smirk. “Life lessons, Jason.”

“I’ll note it down,” he says. “Look, I need a favour.”

“What is it?”

“I need to go down to the grocery store tonight,” he tells her. “And I need to use the kitchen on Friday.” Claire takes a break from her 200 wires and knobs and frowns at him, leaning back on her heels. “What?”

“Nothing,” she replies quickly. “But you know you don’t need to ask to use the kitchen, right? It’s your house.”

“Right,” he says, trying not to think too much about the words ‘your house’. “Well it’s just… I don’t really want to be interrupted while I’m in there.”

“Consider me gone,” she says with a wave of her hand. “I’ll probably be in here anyway trying to fix this thing.” She smacks the top of it hard, making the whole stand seem to shudder. “Hey, is there anything on the screen now?”

“No,” he tells her. “Just black.”

“God damn it,” she sighs, the top of her head disappearing behind the set.

“Claire,” he begins, suppressing a smirk. “How do I know it’s not more damaged now than it was when you started.”

“Don’t sass me,” she says from behind the TV. Her glasses come up over the top, pointing sharply at him. “I’ve almost got it.”

“I’m sure you have,” he replies. He doesn’t need to see her face to know that her mouth is hanging open and her eyebrows are most definitely hitting the ceiling. “How long have you been at that anyway?”

“On and off all day,” she replies. “I always meant to get around to it. It’s been on the brink for weeks now.”

“It’s never been on the brink for me,” he points out, sitting down on the edge of the couch. “Maybe it just hates you.”

“You barely use it,” she replies. “Do you know how many people would kill for a kid who doesn’t watch the TV? Oh!” He hears the sound of something being slotted and clicked into place, then out of place, then back into place, and then a knob turning before she steps out, the cover of the back of the TV still sitting propped up against the wall. She lifts up the remote and turns to him, her wide eyes and hair falling out of its braid and sweater slipping off her shoulder making her look like something of a mad scientist. “Ready?”

“Dazzle me,” he replies.

She points the remote at the TV with a flourish and hits the button, bouncing up and down with glee as she prepares to show off her amazing technician skills-

Only for the screen to remain black and silent, the afternoon sun hitting off it and the only picture being their reflections. In the dark screen, he can see Claire’s disappointed pout and it’s actually enough to make him hold back his biting remarks.

“Damn it,” she sighs. “I took the whole fucking back off.”

“That’s a dollar in the swear jar,” he tells her. While Claire swears that she had a swear jar in her kitchen for almost a decade now, JD can’t help but wonder if she read his file and put it in for his arrival. He knows that for some people, “troubled kid” =cursing a lot. He guesses it comes with the territory. Pity she didn’t make a ‘gets into fights in school’ jar instead, then they’d have had a vacation to Hawaii booked and paid for by now. And at least 51% of the dollars in the jar are Claire’s anyway.

“Maybe we’ll have to use that jar to get a new TV,” she sighs. “I’ve had this thing since about 1973 anyway. Maybe it’s time for an upgrade.” She cocks her head, mentally assessing it, weighing up the pros and cons before shrugging and turning on her heel. “I’ll give it another grilling tomorrow when I’m well rested.” She puts her glasses on and sits down on the opposite arm of the couch, her chin propped up on her fist. “So what do you need from the grocery store?”

“Uh… flour, sugar… eggs I think. I’ll double check the recipe.”

“You’re baking?” she asks, grinning.

“Yeah,” he replies, feeling both dread and excitement, the latter winning out. “It’s Veronica’s birthday on Saturday.”

“Aww.” With a look from JD, she calms herself, dialling the ‘gushing foster mom’ stuff back down where it belongs. “That’s sweet Jason. Literally I guess.”

“Oh that was bad,” he replies, laughing. “Anyway I’ll double check. I think we have a lot of the stuff here.”

“What are you making her?” she asks, following him into the kitchen and leaning on the counter.

“Red velvet,” he says softly, taking the recipe book down from the shelf. If nothing else, he lucked out by being taken into a house with more recipes than he’d know what to do with. He holds it open at the right page with one hand and goes through the cupboards with the other one. “It’s her favourite.”

“Make a little extra one for me?” she asks.

“Make that saffron risotto and I won’t say no,” he tells her. He isn’t kidding. He’d do many things for that risotto.

“Oh, I managed to run out to the pharmacy today,” she says, looking through her bag. He keeps looking at the book, knowing what she’s bringing out of her bag. “Picked up your next prescription. You said you’re running low, right?”

“Yeah,” he says flatly. He must sound nearly as bad as he feels because Claire puts the bag down and comes slowly to his side.

“Everything okay, kid?”

“Course it’s okay,” he sighs, looking up at her quickly. “Thanks. Thanks for picking them up for me.”

“Jason,” she says, a little firmer this time. “Anything you need to talk about? Or is this a Rachel thing?”

A Rachel thing. That’s what he calls something only to be discussed between himself and his therapist. The real dark stuff that sometimes he can’t understand. He can understand this, of course, but it’s just…

It’s embarrassing.

“It’s fine,” he sighs, closing the book, his finger keeping his page. “It’s just…” He looks up, Claire’s face the classic parental concern (or foster-parental concern), gentle and coaxing. He tells himself hes only talking to her because that’s what she’s here for, it’s what the system pays her for. “I just… I don’t like having to be on them.”

“Jason,” she sighs. After a moment, her hand is on his shoulder and it’s… not unwelcome.

“I know I need them,” he says. “I know that. And I’m not… It’s not like I hate them. I just…” Big truth time. He scratches the cover of the book in his hands. “I don’t want to need them. Not forever.”

“Oh, kid,” Claire breathes. “I know. I know it’s a lot right now.” He hums in agreement. “Would you feel better if I told you that you get used to it?”

“I will?” he asks.

“Of course you do,” she says. “Like these.” She touches the frame of her glasses. “I got them when I was 12. And I get used to them. Putting them on every morning. Taking them off every night. Sometimes I forget they’re there sometimes. And then I break them.” He at least chuckles at that. “And I don’t want to need them either.” She rubs his shoulder in a gentle motion that comes close to wiping his worries away. If only. “And that’s not going into all the other meds I’ve had to take before. It’s all just stuff I need. And there comes a point where it feels like second nature.” His head moves a fraction of its own accord, less than a breath away from Claire’s shoulder. It’s close to comforting, a line he’s seen more than once in his time. She squeezes his shoulder tightly and a rush of feeling comes over him, half-confused, half okay. “I know it sucks right now, kid. It’s just something you need. No shame in that.”

“Thanks,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

“Any time,” she replies softly, her breath tickling his hair. She pats his shoulder again before getting up and moving over to the counter to pick up her car keys.

“Also I’m going over to Veronica’s early on Saturday,” he tells her, taking out his notebook and writing ingredients on a back page. “She wants me to meet her parents.”

“Oh, it’s that serious?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Should I do the same? You bring her over, we have dinner, I grill her about her intentions with you and threaten to skin her if she hurts you?” He bites back a laugh; it’s not that Claire doesn’t pack a punch sometimes, but she’s 5 foot nothing and has a penchant for pastel jumpers and home crafting. He can’t see Veronica being scared much by that, especially not that she knows her now.

“I’ll make notes of what her dad tells me,” he replies. “To give you pointers.” He pauses, his pencil twirling in mid-air. “Although… maybe that wouldn’t be too bad. You, me, her. Real dinner.”

“Pick a date on the calendar,” she tells him.

“Maybe,” he says again. He used to love that word, ‘maybe’. When he’s moving every 3 months, it’s a nice way of saying ‘I’d like to, but realistically, it’ll never ever happen because I’ll be gone soon’. In recent years, he’s liked it less and less. “Okay, let me just leave my stuff upstairs.”

He takes the stairs two at a time and throws the bag down on his bed before taking his wallet out of it. It’s meant to be less than a minute, but something catches his eye; the reflection of himself in the mirror propped up against the wall, the way the sleeves of his coat fall over his hands and the collar is flipped up to his cheekbones, the way the black stands against the pale wall of his bedroom. He’s barely paid attention to it despite wearing it practically every single day since he got it. He likes it, doesn’t he?

For the first time in years, he’s not so sure about it.

******

Veronica takes her finger out of her mouth, scowling at the chipped nail. To her credit, Heather Chandler probably put more effort into getting her to kick the nail biting than into anything else. She curls her hand into a fist, sitting at the kitchen table and waiting for her boyfriend to knock the door. To meet her parents. To actually talk to them. For them to talk to him.

Surely it’s not too late to cancel.

“Are you sure this is enough?” her mom asks from the counter. Two plates of sandwiches, a pot of coffee, a jug of ice water and a plate of homemade cookies. Her mom’s gone all out in more ways than one. She’s wearing the Easter blouse. If her dad’s over protectiveness doesn’t send JD running, her mom just might.

“It’s fine, Mom,” she says. “We’ll get food after bowling tonight.” She looks up, frowning. “Where’s Dad?”

“Probably at the front door,” her mom says. “Waiting for him.”

“Oh God.” She gets up from the table and runs into the hall, then the living room, where she sees her dad sitting in his armchair and facing the window. “Dad!”

“What?” he asks, a little startled. He pulls at his shirt collar, trying to perform relaxed. He’s doing worse than her, which is an achievement. “I’m just waiting for lunch to be ready.”

“Can you wait in the kitchen?” she asks. “You know, where there’s no windows?”

“Ronnie-”

“Dad.” She contemplates batting her eyes at her, trying to play up ‘Daddy’s little girl’. “Dad, I’ll let him in.” Her dad sighs and pulls himself up, crossing the room over to her. She pats his chest lightly. “And then you can scare him all you like.”

“All I like?”

“Okay, not all you like.” He laughs and ruffles her hair before setting off to the kitchen, not before taking one look at the front door, peering through the stained glass.

“Dad!”

“I’m going!” She laughs behind her hand as she herself turns to look out the window, her eyes scanning for a familiar coat or shock of dark hair passing by her window. She guesses she must have been concentrating too hard, because when the doorbell does ring it makes her jump out of her skin.

Before she opens the door, she does have to dead-stare her dad in the eye until he backs up back into the kitchen.

“Hey,” she whispers as he steps in. She pulls him into a soft, fast kiss, one eye open in case her father decides to ‘accidentally’ walk in on them. Her hand doesn’t grasp the collar as it normally does but falls flat against his chest. “You ready?”

“Of course I am,” he says with a shaky grin. “I was born ready.”

“Okay tough guy,” she laughs, running her hand down his arm to hold his. A snarky remark forms and dies on her lips when she takes him in fully. “Is that a new jacket?”

“Oh, this?” he asks, stretching out his arm. It’s dark blue and soft and stops at his waist rather than his usual floor-length coat. “Um yeah. Christmas present from Claire. You like it?”

“Yeah… it’s nice.” She clears her throat, bringing herself back to the present and grabbing his hand. “Come on. My mom’s probably going to hunt us down if we stay out here any longer.”

When they get into the kitchen, her mom is at the counter, working at nothing, while her dad puts on a show of reading the newspaper next to her. They’re both a little too into their feigned ignorance; Veronica has to clear her throat to alert them to their presence.

“Mom… Dad,” she begins as they both look up, regarding JD with broad smiles. Her catches for a second and she wraps her hand around his arm. “This is JD. This is my boyfriend.”

“JD…” Her dad repeats, strolling up to them. He’s just about eye level with JD. He tenses next to her, his fingers curling tighter around hers. His mouth opens but for a second no sound comes out. Veronica bites her cheek, trying not to laugh at his wide eyes, or the way he covertly wipes his hand on his jeans before holding it out to her dad.

“Um, Jason Dean, sir,” he says. “But… most people call me JD.” Her dad shakes his hand, the beginnings of a grin on his lips. When JD winces just slightly, small enough for just her to see it, Veronica swallows a snicker, but also makes a mental note to buy him liquorice on Monday to make up for it.

“Nice to meet you, son,” he says, clapping JD on the shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down?”

And it’s at that moment she hears Jason Dean, her JD, her unbreakable and unshakeable JD, squeak.

And she’s not sure she isn’t dreaming.

“I was not scared by your dad!” he insists as they walk through the parking lot to the bowling alley. Veronica had allowed half an hour before insisting they had to motor to be ready. Although her parents had a little more time with him than she had planned, thanks to her dad’s insistence that he wait down there while she ran upstairs to get her jacket and do her make-up. He said that him and JD would have plenty to talk about while she was gone. Well, her dad did anyway, and JD had plenty to smile and nod at and plenty of time to watch the stairs anxiously.

“You were so scared by my dad,” she corrects him, running her hand up and down his arm and resting her cheek on his shoulder. “But he liked you.”

“He did?”

“Mm-hm. I can tell. He didn’t like Heather Chandler and I could tell that. He was different with you.”

“How different exactly?” he asks, pride clinging to his every word. She doesn’t need to look up to see the satisfied smirk on his face.

“Mm. He was happy with you. Underneath all of the Dad stuff.”

“Way, way underneath all of that,” he agrees, pressing his lips to her hair. She takes his hand and turns around under his arm so that she faces him, sees the amused, soft smile on his face. She places her hand on his chest, just a little north of his heart.

“Thanks for coming over,” she says sincerely.

“Like I said in school,” he replies. “Anything for you, Ronnie.” He places his hand over hers. “And you’ve met my biological parent and my foster parent, I think it’s only fair I meet yours now.” She huffs a laugh, shaking away the usual prickling discomfort that comes around in the rare occasion his father is brought up. She takes hold of his jacket instead and pulls him towards her instead, grinning against his lips at the feeling of his hand tangling in her hair.

It’s not that she’ll miss the trench coat, she thinks as she wraps her arms around his waist. It was just a coat after all. But damn if it wasn’t fun grabbing the labels.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Not good to keep your friends waiting.” She hums in agreement, wrapping her arms around his and letting him lead her inside.

“Happy birthday Ronnie!” Before Veronica can even take anything in, a small flash of yellow crashes into her side and nearly knocks her over despite being practically half her size.

“Thanks Heather,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around her in return. Heather lets her go for less than a second before grabbing her hand and pulling her along with so much strength she slips out of JD’s hold.

“Come on! We set up down here!” Heather pulls her down past the lanes of other families and groups of teenagers or little kids bowling, so caught up in their own games none of them can spare a glance at them.

When Heather drags her down to the last lane, their lane, she’s close to speechless.

She doesn’t know how they swung it, but Heather (she imagines with Martha’s help) has tied blue and white balloons to the backs of chairs and even stuck a few to the ball dispenser, along with silver streamers that catch the red and green and yellow overhead lights. On the table there’s three different wrapped boxes and a white cake, which, if the red flakes are anything to go by, is red velvet, as well as a bottle of Coke and a bottle of Fanta. They caught Martha in the middle of placing silver candles on the cake, which right now spell out “Happy Bir”.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, hiding behind her hands, looking from Heather to Martha. “You guys did this?”

“Well, it was mostly Heather,” Martha says sheepishly.

“Oh, bullshit,” Heather says, skipping over to Martha and wrapping her arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Martha told me what I should get. I just followed her advice.”

“Well…” Her friend’s cheeks turn red, both from the praise and the public displays of affection from her girlfriend.

“You’re the best,” Veronica says, running over to Martha and throwing her arms around her “Seriously the best.”

“A little,” Martha allows herself to admit. “JD made the cake though.” Veronica turns to him, looking at him scratching the back of his neck, looking anywhere but his cake on the table.

“Oh did he?”

“I did promise you a red velvet cake,” he reminds her, sitting on the one free spot on the table.

“You guys are amazing,” she says.

“We know,” Heather replies, resting her cheek on her shoulder. “Now come on, are we bowling or what?”

And that’s how they spend their night. While Veronica relies on her old instincts from middle school birthday parties, JD turns out to be surprisingly bad at it (leading to quite a few hugs from Veronica). Heather, swearing she’s never bowled before, insists on Martha helping her. No one can miss how much she leans into her girlfriend’s embrace, how she deliberately pulls on Martha’s hand to tighten her grip on her waist. Or the not-so secret kiss Martha places on the back of her ear. Veronica celebrates every victory with a larger than life victory dance and high fives from all three of them and takes every defeat with a kiss on the head. She alternates between sitting on the table next to Martha and standing wrapped in JD’s arms while waiting for her turn. Even when waiters come down with French fries, hot wings and mini hot dogs they can’t calm down, high on their own buzz, play fighting over who’s winning, who has the better partner, who is the better partner, whether JD is really getting distracted or if he’s just… bad. She laughs until her face hurts and when in the moments when it starts to fade, she either leans on Martha or JD (one time Heather) and just for a second, she doesn’t even need to think about or say anything. She just sits in the moment and laughs and it’s perfect.

When she blows out the candles on her cake, she just wishes that they can always stay like this.

#heathers the musical #jdronica #heathers fanfic #veronica sawyer #jason dean #fic: not beyond repair #me to my followers: you can have a little update. as a treat #also me updating in less than a month? who is she?

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edwardianbookwhore · 5 years

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Heathers UK: A Review by an OG Heathers Fan

Some of you may know this already, but the Heathers UK Cast Recording came out recently. I have been a fan of Heathers since the original Off-Broadway version in 2014 and after listening to this new cast recording, I have some OPINIONS. If you are an original Heathers fan then you probably remember how weird it was to go from almost everyone knowing what Heathers is (pre-Hamilton) to no one knowing anything about it (during Hamilton) to having a whole new ‘generation’ of people who love Heathers (post-Hamilton). In this review I will be breaking down each individual song and character portrayal in the new-ish version of Heathers and giving my overall opinion at the end.

Beautiful

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 9/10

Now, of course, the original song is iconic. Not just because it introduces each individual character and future concept, but also because it has the iconic line “September 1, 1989.” It’s filled with laughs and relatable lines galore. We start by feeling bad for this main character while at the same time being intrigued by what is going on in her life. I feel like the West End does a great job at respecting the original song while at the same time giving their own flare. My only complaints are, of course, some of the language used. Not only is it painfully obvious that Heather Chandler can’t do an American accent for shit, but it’s also slowly revealed to us that they have changed some of the lyrics. Now, of course, it is expected, given that this is a whole new production, it’s just that some of the lyrics that they chose to change make no sense. It’s a great song, and I love Carrie Hope Fletcher’s energy toward the end, but it does not in any way compare to Barrett’s original performance.

Candy Store

OOBC: 9.5/10

UK: 7.5/10

Now, don’t get me wrong. I LOVE the original Candy Store, I just believe that in some ways, it could be improved (VERY minor). However, the West End’s rendition of this song is frankly not great. This is the first song where the Heathers really get to shine, and I feel like they’re more a little dull in this song. The belts aren’t great, the American accents are very noticeable, and let’s be honest, Jessica, Alice, and Elle are the best Heathers ever. A very minor complaint that I had that you cannot even see in the cast recording is that they switched Duke and McNamara. It really messed me up while looking through pictures of this production. I appreciate the drama and energy put into this song, but it’s just not as strong as the original.

Fight for Me

OOBC: 8/10

UK: 7.5/10

Personally, I never really enjoyed the original version of this song. It’s a great song, but it doesn’t really stand out amongst all of the other songs in this musical. To me, it seems just like some kind of love-sick song that doesn’t really mean anything in the end. The West End does a great job of mimicking the original song, however, the arrangement of the music is not that great compared to the off-broadway production.

Freeze Your Brain

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 6.5/10

I freaking LOVE Ryan McCartan’s original production of this song. No matter how many JD’s I watch perform this song, no one is as good as Ryan. When looking at a picture of Jamie Muscato, he seems like the kind of guy who would be perfect for the role of JD. In other words, he ticks all of the boxes, almost like an off-brand Ken doll. However, his rendition of this song is absolutely terrible. He sounds like he’s trying, he really is, but he just BARELY has the range for this song. This ultimately translates into him sounding more like a weird theatre kid and less like a mentally ill teenager. I appreciate the effort, but the payout is not great.

Big Fun

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 7/10

When thinking about all of the obligatory ‘party’ songs in theatre (Halloween, The Dual, Revenge Party) ‘Big Fun’ almost always turns out to be my favorite. The energy, the craziness, the feeling of no regrets coming off of these teenagers. I just love every minute of the original song. However, this version does not in any way feel like the original. It starts off with the chords from the original that we all know and love, but they are being sung by the cast. Instead of just having the orchestra play them like a normal musical, they have the cast practically scream them at the top of their lungs. Although most of the original dirty jokes are still in the song, the high voices coming out of the cast through the entire 3 minutes and 42 seconds sound like they tried to make a Kidz Bop version. They really did try to create a good song, but it does not convey well at all.

Dead Girl Walking

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 6/10

I love, love, love Carrie Hope Fletcher, but this was nowhere near her best song in this musical. She tried to do her best, but it’s really not a good song. They changed several of the lyrics from the original song, which are very awkward for the energy of the song. Jamie Muscato does a terrible job at acting like a teenage boy who just a (kind of) random girl bust into his room through the window. The harmonies are almost ear-shattering and compared to Barrett and Ryan’s original chemistry, these two have close to none. This song was not as bad as it could have been, but I just had very high hopes going into this song.

The Me Inside of Me

OOBC: 8.5/10

UK: 8.5/10

Believe it or not, I don’t particularly love the original version of this song. It’s a good song, I just don’t find it to be one of my top favorite in the musical. In my opinion, the West End production does a great job of keeping true to the original song. There was nothing that really stood out to me as being worse than the original song. It was pretty much the same as the original.

You’re Welcome/Blue

OOBC: 2/10

UK: 9/10

I know this may not be the most popular of opinions, but I absolutely LOATH ‘Blue’. Frankly, it makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, and it doesn’t really add much to the story in the long run. The West End version replaced the dumpster fire of a song with a little number called ‘You’re Welcome’. Now I LOVE this song. It’s a perfect replacement for the original song, and it does an amazing job of showing the personalities of Veronica, Kurt, and Ram. I fell in love with Veronica’s new diary entries, and I believe that they did a great job of making it clear that Kurt and Ram are just two dumb white men. This song is the first in the musical that they completely replaced/added and it shows that maybe they should have just replaced the entire musical. The musical style is vastly different than all of the previous songs and, while the original musical is a classic, this song is absolutely amazing.

Never Shut Up Again

UK: 8/10

This is the first song in the musical that is completely new. It’s a glorious number that really truly shows Heather Duke. Now, I don’t particularly love the casting choice for Heather Duke; T’Shan Williams’s voice is not what I imagine for Heather Duke, but I do love the energy she puts into her performance. I love how this song gives Heather Duke a small spotlight for a moment and really puts a light on her opinions about her friendship dynamic. I also love how in this song we also get to see Veronica’s slow descent from her short moment of fame. Another thing that I noticed is that the style of this song is very similar to that of ‘You’re Welcome’, which just further proves my point about maybe just completely re-writing the musical. The style is similar to that of another West End musical ‘Six’, which I’m not complaining about, given how good that musical is.

Our Love is God

OOBC: 9/10

UK: 7.5/10

How much do I have to say this? I DO NOT LIKE JAMIE MUSCATO. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure he’s a great guy, but I cannot stand his performance as JD. He tries his best, he really does, but Ryan McCartan is just 100 times better. The original song leaves you with a feeling of, ‘oh shit, what’s gonna happen next?’, but this version just kinda makes you think ’huh, cool’. It’s not completely terrible, but I just wish it were a little bit better.

My Dead Gay Son

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 9.5/10

This song is actually surprisingly really good. It just feels kind of awkward in some parts, but it’s pretty dang good compared to the original, despite the massive lyric change.

Seventeen

OOBC: 9/10

UK: 9.15/10

Yup, you read that right. I actually think this one is better than the original. Even though I absolutely adore Barrett Wilbert Weed and think that she is still the best Veronica of all time, Carrie Hope Fletcher makes this song just slightly better than the original. The passion and energy she throws into her performance makes Muscato’s performance bearable and is even better than the original. I don’t particularly love this song, given how boring it is in some ways, but this song made me truly believe in Veronica’s view on everything that had been going on. Carrie made me want to just help these poor teenagers and take them out of this terrible situation before it gets worse. Now, if Ryan McCartan were in this instead, I might consider making the rating a 10 (MIGHT).

Shine a Light

OOBC: 8/10

UK: 6.5/10

I don’t really like this song in the first place. It’s kind of awkward and makes me feel kind of uncomfortable. However, this does not mean that I don’t have some small part of my heart saved for this song. The West End took this song, completely ruined the arrangement, and added an actor who does a slightly okay job at playing an awkward high school teacher. This song kinda made me hate this song more than I already did.

Lifeboat

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 2/10

I had to listen to this song on repeat for like 10 minutes and I honestly don’t feel that great about that. I LOVE the original of this song; it shows that not all of the Heathers were completely terrible, and it’s absolutely beautiful in the long-run. I could listen to the original for hours, but I could barely listen to this song once. Sophie Isaacs’ rendition of Heather McNamara is really bad, and I’ll talk about that later, but I just really hate how she did this song. Heather McNamara is supposed to be the quiet, unsuspecting one, but Sophie Isaacs tries to make a big show of this character’s personality. I loved how in the original song, you could feel just how lonely Heather M felt, and in this version, felt none of that.

Shine a Light (Reprise)

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 5/10

I absolutely LOVE the original. It’s perfect in showing just how far Heather Duke has gone, and while this song does certainly show that, I just do not like this rendition at all. There’s something OFF about it that I don’t really like, and I really wish that they didn’t ruin this song. I mean, how do you ruin a 40 SECOND song?

I Say No

UK: 10/10

I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!!!! I’ve been listening to this song ever since they released the single weeks ago, and it’s absolutely perfect. I love how it shows Veronica’s personality, it gives her a voice, and it is just a REALLY good song. I love Carrie Hope Fletcher’s voice. I love the beat. I love the lyrics. Everything about this song is perfect for the story being told in this musical. I could listen to this for forever, and that’s not an exaggeration. This is yet another song that was added to the musical and is somehow perfect in every aspect.

Kindergarten Boyfriend

OOBC: 8.5/10

UK: 8.5/10

Frankly, I don’t really love the original version of this song. I don’t really have anything against it, it’s just kind of boring. Jenny O’Leary does a really good job at mimicking the original song, while also making it her own. The arrangement for the music is a great tribute to the original as well. To me, it doesn’t really seem all that different from the original.

Yo Girl

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 7.5/10

WHY??? WHY DID THEY REPLACE ‘MISERABLY’?? What was the point of that??? The original line is pretty freaking iconic and does an amazing job at lowering Heather Duke’s voice and staying within the original language. That lyric replacement was so random. The song overall feels kind of like a joke compared to the original. Even though it still gives the same feel as the original, I believe that the original feels a little creepier. It isn’t a great rendition, and honestly, the original is MUCH better.

Meant to be Yours

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 5.5/10

Have I mentioned how much I hate the UK’s JD??? This was actually my favorite song when I was listening to the original cast recording, and this version is just so bad in comparison. Muscato is really trying to seem creepy, but it feels really forced. If anyone in this goddamn song could act for two seconds, then maybe I would take it a bit more seriously, but it’s so bad.

Dead Girl Walking (Reprise)

OOBC: 10/10

UK: 7/10

What the heck, Carrie? I had so much trust in you! I’m sure a lot of other people feel this way, but the original version of this song is amazing. It does a great job at conveying just how frantic and vital Veronica’s actions are. I love Barrett’s original performance, and I also really love Carrie’s previous performances, but this is not her best. At all. I’m not even completely sure what’s wrong with it. It’s almost if the entire song is flat.

I Am Damaged

OOBC: 9/10

UK: 8/10

I’m really confused about all of the lyric changes in this song?? None of them make any sense whatsoever. The song isn’t all that much different than the original other than the fact that I still hate UK JD.

Seventeen (Reprise)

OOBC: 8.5/10

UK: 8/10

Eh, it’s not that bad. I don’t really like the original in the first place, just because I’m not usually a fan of the final songs in musicals, but the UK version isn’t that different from the original. It was fine, but not really what I expected. It’s a pretty fitting ending for this musical production.

Characters

Alright, so now I’m going to give my opinion on each individual character. This is not necessarily a criticism as much as it is a criticism of the way this production portrayed this character. This is assuming that all of the original characters are a 10/10.

Veronica: 9.5/10

JD: 3.5/10

Heather C: 8/10

Heather D: 7.5/10

Heather M: 5/10

Kurt: 8.5/10

Ram: 8.5/10

Mrs. Sawyer: 6.5/10

Final Verdict

8/10

While I did not really like this production, I did appreciate all of the time and effort they obviously put into its outcome. Just from watching their social media, you can tell that the entire cast does have some kind of chemistry. The new songs may even be better than the originals. This does not, however, excuse the fact that the original is still much better. Nothing can every replace Barrett and Ryan’s chemistry on stage or Jessica, Alice, and Elle’s perfect comedic timing. As much as I’d like to say that this production did a great job at honoring the original, it was in and of itself its own thing. And that’s not really a bad thing. It just gives the production a weird feeling at the end. I enjoyed revisiting this musical and seeing just how much my opinions have changed on some of these subjects. Overall, this entire cast recording is one major bit of nostalgia for the original fans and something to scream over for the newer fans.

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scouts-mockingbird · 5 years

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Blue Part Two

Intro, Beautiful, Candy Store, Fight For Me, Freeze Your Brain, Big Fun Part One, Big Fun Part Two, Dead Girl Walking Part One, Dead Girl Walking Part Two, Dead Girl Walking Part Three, The Me Inside of Me Part One, The Me Inside of Me Part Two, Blue Part One

So, you all ask, desperate and curious, How will I fix it?

Well you start by throwing the whole fucking thing into the garbage and then hitting your head against a desk until you forgot that you’d ever had the idea for it. After that, you get to the business of writing a new song. I would call it “Cow Tipping”

The song starts out funny. Veronica agrees to go on the double date with Heather, but expresses concern because she doesn’t like/trust Kurt and Ram. She also complains that they never do anything fun on dates, and asks that this not be a night where they go cow tipping.

Scene change to the field. There are fake cows or actors dressed as cows, I don’t fucking care, but you can tell it’s a pasture, and it’s evident what is happening.

Kurt and Ram sing about how they like tipping cows because they find it funny. As the song goes on, however, it gets darker. They reveal that it’s fun to knock down things that can’t fight back.

Slowly, the song takes a turn and it becomes clear that Veronica and Heather are the “cows” in this scene, and are about to be hurt because it amuses Kurt and Ram. The tone of the song remains similar throughout, but the audience is no longer humming along as they realize that Heather and Veronica are in danger, though it is clear that Kurt and Ram don’t think anything is wrong. They’re still just having fun and making jokes.

Ram pulls Heather offstage, she resists.

Kurt grabs Veronica, finishing the song and leaning in for a kiss. Veronica shoves him away and runs. Kurt falls down, passed out drunk, the scene ends.

What this changes is that there is real danger, and it exposes the real villains of the scene for what they are. It doesn’t frame them as simply oafish and stupid, unable to read the obvious cues of a girl who doesn’t like them, it frames them as people who don’t care what the girl says, because they’re out for themselves. This leads to them being less sympathetic so that the audience doesn’t feel bad rooting for Veronica when she kills one of them and is an accomplice to the other’s murder. It is better for the overall story and motivations if the audience doesn’t like Kurt and Ram, aside from the way we always kind of like hate-sink characters.

This also puts the tone back into the gray area the movie lived in; it’s funny, but it’s dark and it makes you think. The audience laughs at Kurt and Ram in the beginning of the song, delighting in their casual cruelty, only to feel sick for laughing when they realize exactly how cruel they are.

Allowing this scene to be dark also helps transition into the darker stuff that’s coming later, because after this the murder won’t be accidental, and that’s an important shift. It shouldn’t be haha funny because then when suddenly everything is melodramatic murder (I’m coming for you Our Love is God) it’s jarring. This way it’s a more gradual shift.

But of course I’m not skipping right to OLiG. Oh no. I’ve got to get through the reprise first.

#Heathers #Heathers the Musical #Scout Fixes Heathers the Musical #rape mention #I might start doing these more regularly #for some reason anger is coming more easily than writing

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rparchiveblogxoxo · 7 years

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You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like klaine.

Stranger: FutureAU Famous!Klaine MPREG/FEM!Kurt {Blaine and Kurt are both Hollywood A-listers, and are close friends, but have never dated. When they hook up at a party in the Summer neither of them expected to be in a situation involving pregnancy and making their decisions in the public eye.} Blaine sighed as he walked into his house after his table reading, dropping onto the couch and settling into the cushions. As he usually did he checked his emails, his social media accounts, updating them with his day and his plans. He’d spent the week going back and forth from table reading, to shooting, to table reading and back. He was exhausted, and worn down, but he couldn’t complain. Of course, lately he’d been spending his time at the parties and the events just to be around people.

You: Kate had been doing her best to make sure that things were relatively normal with Blaine after they had hooked up; she valued their friendship and didn't want anything to get weird about it, and she certainly didn't need TMZ to notice anything off about them that would make people start to speculate. But that all fell apart about a month after that fateful party, and now she was going to have to face that. She arrived at Blaine's door, taking in a deep breath as she knocked, hoping that he was home.

Stranger: "Coming!" Blaine called out, moving and rolling off of the couch before he padded over to the front door, checking who it was before he unlocked it and pulled it open. Of course, he couldn't control the stupid grin when he saw Kate... something he schooled in public but couldn't manage to control outside of the public eye. He was sure the woman thought he was an idiot, but she'd known him long enough... she must find something entertaining in him. "Kate, hey! Hi. Come on in. I thought you were out of state filming...?"

You: Kate couldn't help but smile back at Blaine as she saw the look on his face. As much as she was nervous about this whole situation and whatever was going to come next, there was just something about Blaine that made his happiness rub off on others, and she was incredibly fond of him. "Hey," she greeted him as she stepped inside. She walked in, waiting for him to close the door, knowing that no one was around but still not wanting to take any sort of chance. "Ah, yeah, I was. But, um, I started getting sick. So they thought it was best to put it off."

Stranger: "Oh, well, that's no good." Blaine said, shaking his head and closing the door, locking it behind him. He moved and lead her through into the living room, sitting down and clearing his throat lightly. "It isn't anything serious right? You're going to be okay?" He asked, rubbing a hand through his hair lightly. Kate had never really missed filming, or any work she had, maybe once in all the time Blaine had known her. "I haven't seen you as much lately, I figured you were mad at me."

You: Kate sat down with Blaine, shaking her head in reassurance that it wasn't something serious. "I, yeah, no, it's... I'm okay," she said. When her symptoms had first started she had been worried, her mind not putting two and two together to even consider pregnancy as a possibility until she had been on her way home. "No, no, I'm not mad at you. I could never be. I've just been busy," she assured him. "But, um... I do, ah... I do need to talk to you about something."

Stranger: "Oh, okay... not mad at me, and you're not going to die, so... I'm okay with that." Blaine said gently, smiling and looking over at Kate again. "Something to talk about? Okay." He nodded, wondering if he'd fucked something up with her, or maybe some media outlet had found out about them. He didn't want to go screwing that up. Both he and Kate were pretty private, or as private as they could be really, given their position and their careers. "Sure, what's up?"

You: Kate let out a soft laugh at his commentary, nodding slightly. "Yeah. It's..." she started and then stopped; part of her wanted to assure him right off the bat that it wasn't something bad, but honestly she still wasn't sure how to make heads or tails of it yet, and definitely wasn't sure how he would react to it. She was also torn now, faced with Blaine right in front of her, as to whether it would be better to just spit it out or not. "That, um... At that party? Did... Did the condom break?"

Stranger: Blaine felt his brow furrow at the question, huffing slightly as he leaned his chin into his hand, trying to think about the night. They had, in all fairness, been incredibly drunk, and it hadn't made it easy to remember. "Um, I.. I don't know if we even used one, Kate. I think we were so hell bent on... you know, that I don't think we used one." He said, trying to think whether he'd put one on or not. "Why... you're not... you don't have anything right? I don't have anything?" He asked stupidly, just trying to wrap his head around everything.

You: Kate opened her mouth and shut it again, letting out a long breath. She hadn't even entertained the notion that they had skipped out on using a condom; she was usually so careful about it, not wanting to risk anything like this happening and messing with her career. It took her a moment to realize that Blaine had spoken again, for a moment wondering if she should feel offended that he was asking if she had anything; but, to be fair, there were only a few reasons someone would ask about having used a condom so far after the fact. "I, no, it's not..." she paused, looking down and sighing. "I'm pregnant."

Stranger: "Oh! Oh." Blaine replied, realizing what Kate had said and brushing a hand over his jaw. "Oh... Kate." He tried, not sure how to speak and what to say, but he knew he needed to. If there was any time for him to talk to the point of a whole novel worth of words, it was now. He couldn't do it though, his voice seemed to have disappeared and his blood had run cold, his heart hammering agains this chest. "Kate... t-that's okay. That's okay, right? We're going to be okay... with a baby. We'll be okay with a baby... right?"

You: Kate nodded slowly as she looked at him, watching his reaction and trying to figure out what was going on in his head with everything that was going on. She let out a soft breath when he finally spoke, nodding. "I... Yeah, I mean.... Yeah? I think we'll be okay?" she said. She ran her fingers through her hair, letting out a long breath. "I just.. I have no idea, about any of this."

Stranger: "We can work something out." Blaine said gently, nodding and looking over to Kate for a moment, reaching over and taking her hand. "I think this will be okay. We'lkk be okay." He said with a smile, looking down at her stomach before he let out a small huff. "We can figure out what to do, but I want you to know that I'll be right here, for all of this. I want to be there for both of you. I promise." He said, shifting and squeezing her hand lightly, reaching down and setting his palm to her stomach.

You: Kate nodded slowly, biting her lip as she noticed Blaine looking down towards her stomach. "We'll be okay," she repeated, nodding slightly. His words were a comfort to her, though it also felt incredibly strange to her. 'Both of you.' Both her and the baby. There was a baby growing inside of her. Blaine's baby. She sat up a bit straighter as Blaine's hand moved to her stomach, looking down. "This... I mean, obviously it'll still be a secret for a while, but once I start to show, there'll be all kinds of speculation, and about the father..."

Stranger: "I guess so... and they already like to gossip about us. We have some time to figure this out, I know we do... but let's start with us first. Maybe we could try... /us/ first?" He asked, his voice quiet as he tried to reason all of this out. They needed to come clean at some point, but right now, they had the privacy still. "I want us to be able to be proud when we announce this. Because at the end of the day, the baby deserves that much."

You: Kate looked at him with a soft breath. She had to push any thoughts of what people would say on the backburner; in this moment, it really didn't matter what anyone else said or thought except for the two of them. "Like... actually? /Us/, for real?" she asked softly, looking over at him, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Stranger: "Yeah, for real. You and I." Blaine said with a smile, nodding and letting his eyes flick up to her face, distracting himself from where he knew his own baby was currently growing. He shifted slightly and reached for her hand, holding it between his own. "We've known each other for years now, and we've been friends that whole time, I'm not stupid enough to think we'll be perfect, but we'll be good... We'll be the best we can be and we'll do right by our child, it's all that matters in the end, that we did all we can."

You: Kate nodded slowly, letting her take her hand in his. She let out a soft breath, thinking about it. If this could work out and they were able to be happy together, that was pretty much the best case scenario. Of course she knew that they would be able to handle parenting a child without being together, but was that the best environment for a child to grow up in, especially with the added pressure of being in the public eye. "You're not just doing this because of the baby, right? Because I don't want you to feel like you have to do this or something."

Stranger: "Okay, well, first things first... it isn't just because of the baby, the baby might have spurred it on of course, but I've had a stupid crush on you for years Kate. I mean, obviously it's hard in the public eye, but I can't think of anyone else I'd like to try with more than you..." He mused, shrugging and brushing his thumb over her knuckles. "We can try, and we can do everything we can. It's all I want."

You: Kate nodded slightly, letting out a soft relieved breath. If he had been willing to try a relationship just for the sake of the baby, it would've been sweet, sure, but ultimately she was sure that it would have turned into a bad situation filled with resentment. "I... Okay. Yeah," she said, giving him a small smile. "Yeah, maybe we should go for it."

Stranger: "I think we should." Blaine said with a chuckle, shaking his head and moving slightly, still trying to wrap his head around all of this. "We'll make this work, I know we will, and we'll take some time to just be us, and keep this private. When we have to, we'll come clean and go public. It'll be alright." He said gently, shifting slightly and looking at her, leaning over slightly and kissing her cheek gently.

You: Kate nodded and gave Blaine a small smile. "Yeah... that's probably the best way to go about it," she said. It was going to be strange and she knew it; maybe if things had been different, they would've been able to go on normal dates, but she was sure than anywhere where they would go, they would be spotted and there would be no such thing as private. "We're really doing this whole thing out of order, huh?"

Stranger: "I feel like I do most of my life out of order, and I know you like to switch things up. We'll just have to work with it. It'll be more fun." Blaine said with a grin, chuckling before he shook his head. "IT's going to be hard, but it'll be fun. I know that much... We'll be okay, you and I." He told her, smiling and reaching over to set his hand to her stomach again, beaming still. "I can't wait..."

You: "Yeah... You do have a point there," Kate said with a soft laugh, nodding and smiling softly at him. She looked down at his hand on her stomach, for a moment letting her mind wander a bit. She could already see Blaine being an amazing father, he just had that way about him. She looked over at him, smiling and chuckling softly as she teased, "You'll have loads of fun dating a hormonal pregnant woman."

Stranger: "I will have lots of fun, because you're the hormonal pregnant woman. It's okay." Blaine said gently, grinning and looking up to meet her eyes. "I'll love it all, I know I will." He said gently, moving and turning to face her on the couch, crossing his legs and biting his lip. "You're going to be amazing, I know you are... you're going to be the best mom to the baby, and you already know how to put up with me so..."

You: Kate smiled at Blaine and nodded, moving forward to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. "You're the best, you know that?" she murmured, giving him a squeeze. "You always know exactly what to say to me."

Stranger: Blaine grinned and hugged her back as she spoke, holding her close to him and kissing her cheek. He brushed his hand through her hair, kissing her cheek again. "I know you, and... I'm so glad I do." He smiled, shifting slightly and kissing her right on the lips quickly. "I can't wait for all of this... it'll be amazing."

You: Kate smiled at him, slowly pulling back again so that she could look at him, still keeping her arms around him. "I can't, either," she said with a smile. "It's... it'll be exciting, going through all of this with you. I have this feeling that our dates will end up very interesting."

Stranger: "Well, we're going to have our first one soon... right out in the public, and I'm not going to hold back. Fancy date, right where they can see us. We'll have fun, and just enjoy it all." Blaine said with a nod, grinning and pulling her into his lap carefully, his arms loosely wrapped around her waist.

You: Kate chuckled softly, letting herself be pulled into Blaine's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, looking at him with a smile. "Yeah? You know we'll end up swarmed by paparazzi," she said, finding herself not actually minding the thought too much.

You: (brb)

Stranger: "And it'll be horrible but also fun." Blaine said with a grin, shaking his head and brushing a hand over her back lightly. "Maybe we could go to a music festival or... one of the events in the park. It wont be as fancy as I said before, but we'd be less likely to be spotted, and it'd be fun. Just you and I, enjoying a regular night like everyone else. It'd be worth it..."

You: Kate chuckled softly and nodded, humming as she thought about it. Admittedly, doing just about anything with Blaine would be a good night in her eyes; for as long as they had been friends, that had always been the case, Blaine was always fun to be around. She paused for a moment, then asked, "Will you want to come to my appointments with me? Those could become dates, too. Weird dates, maybe, but... Yeah."

Stranger: "Of course I want to come to the appointments. I want to know what's going on, with you and the baby." Blaine nodded, smiling and brushing a hand through her hair again, kissing her jaw lightly. "I want to be there every step of the way. You and I will do it all together, and you wont have to do anything alone Kate." He said gently, smiling and looking up at her, kissing her lips again.

You: Kate smiled at him, letting out a soft happy sigh at his words. "You're way too sweet, Blaine," she told him softly, rolling her eyes at him fondly. She kissed him back softly, letting her lips linger against his for a moment. "You're exactly the kind of guy that my dad's been on my case about finding."

Stranger: "I am? Well, well... already scoring points with Burt. And I haven't actually started..." Blaine teased, shaking his head and tugging her in a little closer. "I'll do my best to do right by you, promise." He told her, smiling and teasing her lightly before he leaned in and kissed her again, slower this time just because he could.

You: "Mhm... You say this as if there was ever any chance of you not getting along amazingly with my dad," Kate said with a soft chuckle. She hummed at his words, smiling into the kiss when their lips met again, holding onto him closely. "You're a pretty good kisser," she whispered against his lips.

Stranger: "I think we'd decided that at some point a month or so ago..." Blaine teased, his hands reaching up and cupping her cheeks, tugging her in closer. "I think you're pretty damn good yourself though." He told her, taking a breath and leaning in closer, kissing her deeper.

You: "Shh, that didn't count because there was a great amount of alcohol involved," Kate pointed out, shaking her head slightly. She hummed in appreciation of his words, holding herself in close to him as she kissed him back.

Stranger: "Mm... true." Blaine mumbled, his words muffled against her lips. "Well, for the next however many months, there will be no alcohol, and a whole lot of kissing... and everything else you could think of." He told her with a grin, his hand sliding to her hip and pulling her in a little closer.

You: Kate chuckled softly and nodded. "Mhm. I won't make you abstain from alcohol if you don't want to, though," she murmured with a small shrug. She looked at him with a smile, bumping her nose against his with a soft laugh. "I can think of plenty of things."

Stranger: "I want to, I want to do it all with you, and we'll do it right." Blaine said, shaking his head and kissing her again, deeper this time before he reached her hands up and cupped her cheeks. "You can huh? Plenty? You should start listing those and we'll see what we can do..."

You: "Okay, if you're sure. You can change your mind later, especially if I'm hard to handle," Kate said with a soft chuckle. She hummed softly as he kissed her, her hand finding its way to tangle her fingers in his hair. "Mm.. yeah? I'll start getting to work on that list right away, then."

Stranger: "I'd like you more if you were hard to handle." Blaine said with a grin, shifting and adjusting his position, grinning into her kisses. "That'd be good, if you could pass that list along to my people as soon as you have it.. I'll do my best to get to work on it."

You: "Yeah? Duly noted. I'll be sure to be really difficult for you," Kate teased, humming as she kissed him again. She laughed softly and nodded, rolling her eyes at him fondly. "Yeah, for sure. I'll definitely have that passed along to you in no time."

Stranger: "In the mean time though..." Blaine teased, shifting slightly and pulling Kate so that she was straddling his hips, pulling her back down and teasing her lips with his tongue lightly, waiting before kissing her roughly, needing to make up for lost time. If he'd been less of an idiot over the years, maybe they'd have been doing this a whole lot sooner.

You: Kate let out a soft sound into the kiss, leaning into him as she let herself get more into it. "Mm... I don't put out before the first date," she teased against his mouth, shifting and pressing her body in closer against him.

Stranger: "You don't...? Well, good job we've already had our first date... when you put out then..." Blaine teased, grinning and shaking his head into the kiss, breathing her in. "And I know that because someone told me they're carrying my baby, and that doesn't happen without the whole... putting out thing... so, I'm just gonna have to role with it..."

You: Kate laughed softly and shook her head at him. "Shh, shh, technicalities," she said, pausing in order to kiss him again before pulling back slightly. "In the interest of full disclosure, I would totally put out. Probably whenever and wherever you want."

Stranger: "Oh fuck... I'm going to hold onto that information for later because I'm definitely cashing in." Blaine breathed, grinning into her lips and shifting his hands down to the curve of her ass. "And just think... when the hormones really kick in? We're going to need some time just locked in the bedroom I think."

You: "Oh, definitely," Kate agreed with a soft hum, moving her lips to kiss down along his jaw. She continued to kiss down to his neck, lightly nipping at his skin. "I'll be crazy horny and by then who knows if I'll be working on anything... lots of bedroom time will be needed."

Stranger: "I'm glad you're agreeing with this because I can't get enough of you." Blaine said gently, tilting his head slightly and letting her tease over his skin, his hands holding her in closer to him, rocking his hips up slightly.

You: "Mhm... Don't worry, we're very much on the same page here," Kate said with a soft hum, kissing his skin and bringing her hands to his waist, nudging his shirt up and feeling his abs.

Stranger: "Good... good." Blaine breathed, nodding and focusing on the feeling of her exploring him. He grinned and licked his lips, letting out a breath and leaning back.

You: Kate hummed and leaned back after a moment, pulling his shirt up further and pulling it off over his head. She looked down at him, running her hands over his chest. "So perfect."

Stranger: "Me? You should see yourself." Blaine said, looking back at her and grinning as he let his hands slide up and rest on her thighs. "You're incredible." He told her, pushing himself up and pressing his lips back to hers.

You: Kate shushed him. "Do you have any idea how many girls would be dying to be in my position right now?" she pointed out with a soft laugh before kissing him back, one hand tangling in his hair.

Stranger: "I have a feeling plenty of people would be dying to be in your position, you're right... but I'm sure they'd love to be in mine too right now. If I wasn't shirtless I'd be posting a picture right now just to rub it in their faces." He said, letting her hold him in place lightly, sucking her lip between his teeth.

You: Kate chuckled softly at his words, rolling her eyes fondly. "Mhm... not to worry, I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities for all kinds of pictures in the future," she said. A soft groan escaped her lips as Blaine sucked her lip.

Stranger: "I'll post a nice picture later... one that'll make everyone jealous." Blaine teased, kissing her again as his hands moved and slipped up to the hem of her shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and letting his eyes flick over her skin.

You: "Mhm... gonna debut us to the world, huh?" Kate teased back, grinning at him. She hummed as she felt Blaine's hands undoing her shirt, shrugging it off once he had finished unbuttoning it.

Stranger: "Mm, maybe just you, but we'll see how I look. I always go a little red in the face after sex." Blaine smirked, shaking his head and shifting slightly, standing up slowly before he lifted her with him, wrapping her legs around his waist. "We're going upstairs though... because I need more space than the couch has to offer..."

You: "And is that such a bad thing? It'll definitely make people jealous," Kate pointed out with a soft chuckle. She grinned at him as he lifted her up, holding onto him and leaning into his hold more. "Yeah? Fun."

Stranger: "Yeah, I can't sleep there, I get a kink in my neck...?" Blaine smirked, shaking his head as he walked upstairs to his room, setting her on the bed before he crawled over her and began kissing down over her neck.

You: Kate laughed softly and rolled her eyes. "Make no mistake, I'm sleeping here, but there's things to be done before that," she said with a grin. She hummed as she settled back on the bed, tilting her head for him.

Stranger: "There is? Am I on the right track?" Blaine asked, smirking against her skin before he let his hands begin working on her jeans, unbuttoning them and inching them down over her hips and legs, tossing them aside.

Stranger has disconnected.

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lady-divine-writes · 7 years

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Kurtoberfest one-shot - “Dance with the Devil” (Rated T)

While working as a temp in a luxury office building, Kurt finds himself in an unfortunate situation, which leads him to the even more unfortunate situation of being in Sebastian Smythe's debt. (3501 words)

Rare pair - Kurtbastian

Mention of B*laine but not K*laine. B*laine friendly.

Written for the @kurtoberfest prompt "black cats, bones, and bats" and dedicated to @freakingpotter who gave me the idea, like, two years ago xD AU that assumes Kurt, Sebastian, and Blaine are all in the same grade (I'm picking sophomore), and all attended Dalton together. Also messes with the timeline a little bit so that Blaine is crushing on Jeremiah during November.

Read on AO3.

“Thank you so much for coming on such short notice, Mr. Hummel,” Olivia – a petite older woman with curly blonde hair and seashell-pink plastic rimmed glasses far too big for her face – sniffles. She reminds Kurt of Carole the way her eyes turn to slits when she smiles, crinkling at the corners, and the rosy pink lipstick she wears even though it doesn’t flatter her skin. She turns her face away from Kurt when she coughs into the crook of her arm. He knows she’s trying to be discreet, but she sounds like she’s ten feet away from death’s door. “We’ve had three other temps go home early already. We were running out of hope.”

“Well, thank you for trusting your business to Eastwood Employment Agency,” Kurt says, reciting the line the agency requires him to say.

She smiles at his response, but suddenly turns and coughs again, shaking violently as she tries to catch a breath. Kurt takes a subtle step to the right, putting more airspace between them. The last thing he needs is to catch whatever she and the other receptionists have. He wants to fill his school breaks with as many jobs as he can so he can raise money for his college fund. Usually he’d just work down at his dad’s shop for extra money, but it seems that Finn has cornered the franchise on that. Besides, Kurt’s sick of staining his skin and nails doing oil changes. A nice, clean desk job, answering phone calls while he checks his social media feeds, is more his style.

“This is where you’ll sit.” Olivia leads Kurt to an impressively large, circular station in the center of the lobby, made entirely of sleek, black, marble-like stone shimmering with flecks of clear quartz embedded inside. The actual desk portion is wood - Kurt thinks mahogany – running the entire length of the stone barricade and hidden like an executive-style fort. The enclosure houses a phone, a desktop computer, a file cabinet, even a mini fridge.

“Classy,” Kurt says. He steps through the opening in the stone wall. He walks to the rolling desk chair, puts his messenger bag on the floor, and takes a seat.

“You’ll be in charge of greeting guests to the Luxe Building,” Olivia explains, snuffling the ends of her sentences. “When a visitor walks in, smile, and say …” She hacks into her arm, and this time, Kurt’s not entirely sure she’s going to recover. She coughs and coughs until her face turns beet red, wheezing like every inch of breath is leaving her body. Then she recovers quickly, turning to him with a big smile “… Welcome to the Luxe Building.” She barely misses a beat. He’s tempted to applaud. “Answer any questions they have. Most people who come here know where they’re going, but in case they don’t, bathrooms and directories are by the elevators.” She points behind Kurt to where he recalls seeing elevators when he walked in. “You’re also in charge of answering the phones and redirecting calls. There’s a booklet beside the phone with a list of extensions compiled by last name in alphabetical order. The first two numbers of an extension indicate what floor a person’s on, just in case you need to find someone that way.”

“Nothing’s computerized?” Kurt asks. He glances at the desktop computer, confused as to why a multimillion dollar building, which houses floor after floor of Fortune 500 companies, would bother with a receptionist and an ink-and-paper directory – not that he’s complaining. He’s getting $12 an hour to babysit a desk.

“The majority of the businesses in this building bypass the receptionist and have a direct line to their floor. To be honest, you’re mostly a smiling face for the odd person who comes in.”

Olivia smiles, as if to tell him that that job starts now.

Kurt smiles, eager to start earning money.

“Sounds like an easy job,” Kurt comments, wondering how he can swing a gig like this until he graduates high school.

“It can be,” Olivia agrees. “But every once in a while it can be a real pain in the tuchus.” She laughs herself into another coughing fit. Kurt searches the desk for a box of tissues. He sees a can of Lysol antibacterial cleaning wipes and logs their location away for after she’s gone. He’s going to disinfect this desk from top to bottom. “Anyway, unless you have any questions … oh, and one more thing.” She drags a crystal bowl across the counter top, bringing it to a stop closer to Kurt’s face. “We keep this bowl filled with gummy candy for whoever wants. They’re sugar-free. If you want a handful, go ahead. If you ever run out, there’s a bag under the desk. Just refill it.”

Kurt picks a few candies out of the bowl and examines them. They’re individually wrapped, ambiguously-dark colored, and in the shapes of black cats, bones, and bats. Seeing as it’s going to be Thanksgiving in a week, he finds that a little odd.

“They’re from Halloween,” she says, assuming confusion from his quirked brow, “but they’re still goo---“ This time Olivia turns completely around when she coughs. The force causes her to stumble a few steps. Kurt covers his mouth with his hand. He feels bad for her, really he does, but he doesn’t need to catch bronchitis days before he cooks a meal to feed ten people.

“I’ll be fine,” Kurt says, finding a box of tissues and tossing it up onto the counter beside the bowl. “You just go home and get better, Mrs. Parkins, and let Eastwood Employment Agency take care of the rest.”

“Oh, yes.” She reaches back for a tissue without turning around, leading Kurt to believe that something disgusting has happened just over her bowed shoulders. “Of course. Thank you.”

Kurt watches the poor woman hobble off, coughing and hacking the entire way to the elevator. The minute she steps in and the doors close, he’s alone - just him, a quiet phone, and a bowl of questionable candy. First things first, he busts out the container of cleaning wipes and wipes down everything – the counter, the bowl, the first layer of candies, the phone, the desk, the computer keyboard, the mini fridge, and the armrests on the chair. He takes his on-the-go bottle of Purell out of his bag and disinfects his hands. Then he sits in the chair and waits, poised at the ready to see if the phone will ring. When it doesn’t, he sits back in the chair and relaxes. He pulls out his phone and checks his Tumblr blog, resisting the urge to post a selfie. He doesn’t want to get fired for breaking some rule against selfie taking that he doesn’t know exists. Better safe than sorry.

He realizes when he tries to scroll down that he’s still holding a handful of gummy candy. He’d managed to clean the whole desk with them clutched in his hand. Instead of tossing them back in the bowl, he decides to throw caution to the wind. He unwraps them and shoves them in his mouth. They’re surprisingly good for sugar-free gummies. But eating that handful reminds him that he didn’t grab lunch on the way over. He’d been so excited when he got the call from Eastwood Employment Agency, he ran out of the house, not even considering the fact that he might not get a lunch break. And seeing as Olivia didn’t mention one, he’s probably screwed for food unless he can get someone to bring him something.

He texts his dad, then Carole, then Finn, going down the line of friends who might be willing to bring him lunch, and while he waits, he nibbles, gummy after gummy meeting its inevitable demise.

He switches over to Facebook. He hearts his friends’ pictures, and reads the posts on The New Directions page, but much of his wall is flooded with brag posts from people who managed to snag dates to the upcoming McKinley Winter Ball. Kurt zips past as many of them as he can at once, but when his screen stops scrolling, they’re still there, taunting him with their heteronormativity.

God, he wants a date to a school dance. Dalton is having a dance after Thanksgiving break – some conjoined winter-themed hootenanny with their sister school, Crawford Country Day. Technically, he already has a date. Mercedes offered to go with him. But as much as he loves his best friend, he wishes he could go with a boy. It would be possible at Dalton – their no-tolerance bullying policy extends to school sponsored activities. But the pickings are slim as far as gay guys go at Dalton. In fact, the only other openly gay boys that Kurt knows of are Blaine Anderson and Sebastian Smythe. His first choice would be to go with Blaine. Kurt has secretly been in love with Blaine since the day he met him. But their relationship seems to have plateaued at the friend stage, and besides, there’s a certain GAP manager that Blaine knows that seems to occupy his thoughts 24/7, even though the man hasn’t done anything other than buy him coffee. Kurt doesn’t want to be turned down on the off-chance that a 19-year-old man has nothing better to do on a Saturday night then go to a high school dance, but Kurt also doesn’t want to be Blaine’s “Plan B”.

That leaves Sebastian, and boy could Kurt leave him. Sebastian seems a bit more interested in making Kurt’s life miserable – spending every waking moment that they run in to one another reminding Kurt how ridiculously he dresses out of uniform, how low class his beginnings, how destined for life as a Lima Bean barista he is - than in anything as parochial as a high school dance. Not that Kurt would ask him. Not in this life or any other.

Besides, Sebastian seems to be on Team “Lusting After Blaine” as well, always showing up unannounced when Kurt and Blaine are having coffee together, bragging about his big wins on the lacrosse field, or how he made President of the Chess Club or Model U. N., showing off how much more accomplished he is than Kurt, how much more worthy of Blaine’s time and attention.

So he’s definitely out.

And knowing Kurt’s luck, if GAP manager guy doesn’t come through for Blaine, Blaine will probably end up with Sebastian. In fact, Kurt’s kind of surprised Sebastian hasn’t asked Blaine to go by now. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would be frightened off by the prospect of an older man possibly being Blaine’s date. Maybe Sebastian has someone else already lined up – someone he thinks will make Blaine jealous.

Ugh! Kurt thinks as he pops another handful of gummies in his mouth. He’s already given this way too much thought.

Unless Kurt wants to go stag, Mercedes might be his only option.

Kurt contemplates sending her a text to tell her to brush off that purple gown she wore to Winter Ball last year when he hears someone enter the building. Kurt swallows down a mouthful of cats, sits up straight, and is about to launch into his greeting when he hears, “Well, well, well - Kurt Hummel, secretary. It’s not a Lima Bean apron, but it still suits you.”

“Oh, God,” Kurt groans. Think of the devil, and he will appear. But why here? Why now? “Why the hell are you here, Sebastian?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Sebastian says, walking up to the counter and standing in Kurt’s line of sight. “That’s not how you’re supposed to greet guests to the Luxe Building.”

“You’re not a guest, you’re more of a parasite. Answer the question.”

Kurt expects Sebastian to decline, even threaten to tattle on him, but he doesn’t. “My uncle’s office is on the twenty-sixth floor.”

“So, you’re working in your uncle’s office over the vacation?”

Sebastian laughs so suddenly, Kurt would think the idea is so ridiculous, Sebastian has never considered it before. “God, no. I just met with him for lunch. You know, I don’t see why they need a receptionist down here. This place is usually a graveyard.” His eyes fall on the empty bowl on the counter. He scrunches his nose, picking the thing up in disbelief and turning it over. “Yuck! This bowl is never empty. I didn’t know anyone actually ate these things.”

“Why?” Kurt asks, feeling oddly offended. “They’re not that bad.”

Sebastian looks from the empty bowl to Kurt. “Wait … did you eat them?”

Kurt goes from offended to embarrassed. Now that he sees it empty, it is a rather large bowl for one human being to have eaten all of them. “Maybe.”

Sebastian chuckles, but slowly starts to look serious. “Was the bowl full? H-how many did you eat?”

Kurt looks at Sebastian, not sure what to make of his expression. Kurt’s not in the habit of trusting Sebastian. In fact, it’s yet to happen. But something about his eyes, the look of concern that Kurt’s not too sure would be easy to fake, makes Kurt nervous. “I eat when I get bored,” he says, still not willing to admit outright that he polished off the whole bowl himself. “Olivia said they’re sugar-free.”

“Uh, yeah, but still, you’re only supposed to have a few.” The look of concern doesn’t shift from Sebastian’s eyes. In fact, it deepens. Kurt swallows hard.

“Okay, yes, I ate the whole bowl. Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t get to eat lunch before I got here, and I thought it would leave a bad impression if I passed out on my first day. Look, I’ll fill it back up.” Kurt grabs the bag from beneath the desk and starts pouring more gummy candies into the bowl, not mentioning that after he emptied the bowl, he started swiping straight from the source. “See? What’s the big deal?”

“You’re not going to believe me if I tell you, and as amusing as it would be to watch you find out for yourself, I’m just going to show you.” Sebastian pulls up Amazon on his phone. He types something in, enlarges the page, then hands the phone to Kurt. On the screen is the very same sugar-free gummies Kurt has been pounding down non-stop. At first glance, he doesn’t see anything wrong with them. They’re a 3.5 star rated product, but that’s probably because people don’t usually like anything sugar-free (he tells himself). But he scrolls down to the reviews, and immediately changes his tune.

THESE THINGS MUST BE THE SPAWN OF SATAN! DO NOT BUY!

Kurt physically jerks after reading that, as if the reviewer was screaming in his face. As if that isn’t alarming enough, the reviews actually get worse.

Oh man ... words cannot express what happened to me after eating these. The Gummi Bear "Cleanse". If you are someone that can tolerate the sugar substitute, enjoy. If you are like the dozens of people that tried my order, RUN!

It was like something out of a horror movie …

0/10 my rectum melted into thin air …

How are these still legal? I'm about to call a priest to perform an exorcism to get those little demons out of my body!

I have had these and after that I WANT TO DIE …

This product is the government’s alternative to waterboarding terrorists …

There's not a bucket in the world big enough to hold the deluge of diarrhea that erupted after my family and I tucked into these …

On and on the reviews went, one horrific story of gastrointestinal distress after another. The seventh time he reads the word “diarrhea” he feels his stomach churn. He throws a hand over his mouth when, in actuality, he should be putting it over something else. “Oh God,” he moans. The phone starts to ring, eight lines suddenly lighting up at once, but he doesn’t hear it. All he hears as he races out from behind the desk and to the restroom is Sebastian laughing so hard, Kurt’s certain he’ll end up with a hernia.

***

Kurt doesn’t know what’s more humiliating – the fact that he spent the last half hour defiling the swankiest bathroom he has ever been in, that Sebastian Smythe knows about it, or that now he feels so weak, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to drive home. He could call his dad to come pick him up, but how would he explain this to him – without having to hear about it at every Friday night dinner or holiday meal from now till the end of time, that is? He could call Finn instead, but that option wouldn’t end much better. Worst of all, he’s pretty sure he just forfeited his paycheck. Of course, Sebastian told on him. He probably didn’t even wait till the bathroom door shut before he called Olivia and spilled the details. Kurt will come back to a phone lit up like a Christmas tree, being manned by an angry and red-faced Olivia, no longer thankful that Kurt had showed up on a moment’s notice to save the day.

Though, in retrospect, maybe he should sue, since it was her candy that turned his stomach inside out.

But what Kurt does return to is ten times more shocking than Olivia in a bathrobe and slippers.

Before he steps a foot away from the bathroom door, he hears, “Thank you for calling the Luxe Building, how may I re-direct your call? … Mr. Allen’s out of the office for the afternoon. May I transfer you to his voicemail? … I’m not sure that Ms. Cable has a three o’clock open, but I can put you through to her receptionist …” all in Sebastian’s voice. At least, Kurt thinks it’s Sebastian’s voice. He’s never heard him sound so polite before. Kurt approaches the reception area cautiously, his stomach still in a delicate condition, but wondering if he shouldn’t bypass the reception desk entirely and run for the hills. But he can’t. He left his phone and his messenger bag behind the counter. He can’t risk leaving those with Sebastian Smythe.

Sebastian turns and catches Kurt walking toward him, almost on tiptoes, as he transfers the last call. “Do I need to call maintenance, or do the toilets still flush?”

Kurt can’t stand how quickly his cheeks turn red at that remark. He wishes he could just see the humor in it. If Sebastian were Finn or Puck, Kurt might be able to laugh it off, but next to having been caught in this position by Blaine, this is horrifying.

“You covered for me while I was in the bathroom being sick?” Kurt deflects.

“Well, I didn’t want my uncle’s office missing any calls because you inhaled eight pounds of diarrhea fuel.”

“That’s very responsible of you,” Kurt says, even though he can’t say he remembers the last name Smythe anywhere on the phone directory. Of course, maybe it’s his mother’s brother, but he also can’t remember seeing any extensions for the twenty-sixth floor.

“Yeah, well, responsible’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Kurt crosses his arms. “Call me a skeptic, but I never would have guessed that.”

“And losing seventeen pounds of water weight did nothing to lighten your attitude.”

“Excuse me for being a little short, but I’m just curious what I’m going to owe you now for helping me out.”

Sebastian shrugs. He stands, relinquishing Kurt’s chair. “Maybe just say thank you.”

Kurt waits until Sebastian passes him by before he returns to his chair. He does a quick scan of the desk. His bag is where he left it, and so is his phone. Nothing looks touched. “Thank you,” Kurt says, his tone flat and dry. Sebastian frowns.

“Well, that’s not a very nice thank you. And after everything I’ve done for you.” Sebastian shakes his head disapprovingly. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something you can do to show your appreciation.”

Kurt’s jaw drops. “Wha---? I thought you said …”

“Yes, but that wasn’t a very pleasant thank you you just gave me. And as much as I’m not too sure how it would behoove me to let the knowledge slip that I just spent the last thirty minutes listening to you break ass, I’m still hoping for a proper show of gratitude.”

Kurt crosses his arms. “What show of gratitude?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ll think of something,” Sebastian says, dismissively. But a sneaky grin takes over his mouth. “Hey, do you have a date to that Dalton Country Day dance?”

Kurt feels his sensitive stomach sink, cold chills radiating up his spine. “Uh … no. Why?”

Sebastian smirks. “Just curious. If I were you, I’d keep that date open. See you around.”

Kurt watches Sebastian leave, a whirlwind of awful thoughts whisking through his head, making him feel nauseous all over again.

The reviews for the gummy candies are based off these real reviews https://www.amazon.com/Haribo-Sugar-Free-Gummy-Bears/product-reviews/B008JELLCA/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_paging_btm_2?ie=UTF8&reviewerType=all_reviews&sortBy=recent&pageNumber=2

#Kurtoberfest #Kurtbastian #Sebkurt #Sekurt #frankie writes

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