Role of A Lifetime
Author:imeldabrandt
Title: Role of A Lifetime
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: One sided Kurtofsky
Warnings: Self mutilation? None others that I can think of... Male/Male relationship suggestion? But does that really need a warning?
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, Kurt and Karofsky would be together and have lots of threesomes with Puck. Rachel would have been killed in a drive by and Finn would have committed suicide because of Rachel's death... Is it obvious that I don't own Glee?
Summary: Everything's an act when you're pleasing everyone and he assumes that role to such renown. He plays a perfect part, straight from his heart, knowing the risk he takes and hoping that the house is not brought down.
A/N: The song is from the musical Bare: A Pop Opera. Excellent musical. This song reminded me so much of our boys... Well at least of Karofsky's inner struggle that I believe he's going through. It's kind of hard to tell what perspective it's written in. It was supposed to be from Kurt's view, but it somehow ended up... This way...
If you asked Dave where he went during free period, he would say the gym. If you ever went looking for him there, you wouldn't find him. Most likely, he'd be in the auditorium, sitting at the piano, staring at the ivory keys. He would look like he was ready to cry. He would look like a small broken child. He would look human.
He would sigh and rub at his eyes before rummaging around in his backpack and pulling out his new iPod touch and setting it up on the iHome that was on the cover of the baby grand. He would hit the play button and fold his arms on the keys and lay his head on top creating a small pillow for himself.
The soft intro would begin and the soft voice that filtered through the speakers would be almost unheard from the back of the auditorium where you were watching the jock with slight confusion. You'd watch as the massive shoulders would slowly start to move up and down.
Everything's an act when you're pleasing everyone and he assumes that role to such renown. He plays a perfect part, straight from his heart, knowing the risk he takes and hoping that the house is not brought down. The role of a lifetime is living a fantasy. The trauma that you struggle to erase. Thoughts battle words over deeds, a war with such casualties all played out behind a smiling face.
You would stare in horror as the face that you used to cringe in fear at, crumpled at the words of the singer. You would look away in embarrassment as the boy who tormented you for most of your high school fell apart in a mess of sobs and tears. You would watch in terror as he stood and removed his jacket, throwing it carelessly to the stage floor. You would look on in confusion as you saw the scars and fresh cuts and burns littered his forearms.
God I need your guidance. Tell me what it means to live a life where nothings as it seems. Spending days in silent fear, and spending nights in lonely prayer. Hoping that one day when you wake, those feelings won't be there. So confused because I feel complete with him. When we're alone it all somehow makes sense. Look into his eyes for some compromise. Remember the word, forget and try to bury something so intense.
You'd feel your own breath catch in your throat as he opened the side pocket on his backpack and pulls out a knife and slowly and surely cuts his way through his skin. You'd feel the tears leave your eyes and leave messy wet trails down your face. You'd remember the regret you feel as you only look on and not stop the boy from doing something rash. You'd feel your knees hit the carpet as your legs give out from underneath of you.
You learn to play the straight man, your lines become routine. Never really saying what you mean, but I know the scene will change. White picket fences, and a dog, a trophy bride, and children. God I know that's what he wants. But Jason what role do I play? Am I a savior or a phase? Am I here to damn you or to help you navigate this maze?
You remember the look of horror on his face when he meets your eyes from across the dark room. You couldn't move. You didn't know what to do. Should you have gotten Miss Pillsbury or Mister Shuester? Should you have told Figgins? Should you have reached out to him? You had no clue what to do. You sat there and watched as he violated himself. You cried tears of sympathy, but couldn't find your voice to tell him to stop.
Where confusion is a crime, so you fill your life with sound. And if you dance like hell, you hope you never touch the ground. What happens when the music stops? In the silence will he stay one day or realize that these feelings are going away? So we drive ourselves insane, spinning circles in our souls, as we dance around and play pretend. And once again, reprise our roles.
You listened as the song ended. You watched as he clutches at his arm. You watched as his blood ran down his arm and made small puddles on the stage where you danced not two hours later. You slowly closed your eyes as he grabbed his letter man jacket and wrapped it around his arm. You opened your eyes just in time to watch his mouth form the words, 'I'm sorry.' You just watch in horror, confusion, and anguish as he leaves the stage through the back door. You could have saved him. You knew you could have saved him.
Now as you stand over his casket, you wonder if you'll ever be able to step into the auditorium again. You wonder if you'll ever be able to stand on a stage again without picturing him mutilating himself. You start to cry because you already know the answer.
The End
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Title: Role of A Lifetime
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: One sided Kurtofsky
Warnings: Self mutilation? None others that I can think of... Male/Male relationship suggestion? But does that really need a warning?
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, Kurt and Karofsky would be together and have lots of threesomes with Puck. Rachel would have been killed in a drive by and Finn would have committed suicide because of Rachel's death... Is it obvious that I don't own Glee?
Summary: Everything's an act when you're pleasing everyone and he assumes that role to such renown. He plays a perfect part, straight from his heart, knowing the risk he takes and hoping that the house is not brought down.
A/N: The song is from the musical Bare: A Pop Opera. Excellent musical. This song reminded me so much of our boys... Well at least of Karofsky's inner struggle that I believe he's going through. It's kind of hard to tell what perspective it's written in. It was supposed to be from Kurt's view, but it somehow ended up... This way...
If you asked Dave where he went during free period, he would say the gym. If you ever went looking for him there, you wouldn't find him. Most likely, he'd be in the auditorium, sitting at the piano, staring at the ivory keys. He would look like he was ready to cry. He would look like a small broken child. He would look human.
He would sigh and rub at his eyes before rummaging around in his backpack and pulling out his new iPod touch and setting it up on the iHome that was on the cover of the baby grand. He would hit the play button and fold his arms on the keys and lay his head on top creating a small pillow for himself.
The soft intro would begin and the soft voice that filtered through the speakers would be almost unheard from the back of the auditorium where you were watching the jock with slight confusion. You'd watch as the massive shoulders would slowly start to move up and down.
Everything's an act when you're pleasing everyone and he assumes that role to such renown. He plays a perfect part, straight from his heart, knowing the risk he takes and hoping that the house is not brought down. The role of a lifetime is living a fantasy. The trauma that you struggle to erase. Thoughts battle words over deeds, a war with such casualties all played out behind a smiling face.
You would stare in horror as the face that you used to cringe in fear at, crumpled at the words of the singer. You would look away in embarrassment as the boy who tormented you for most of your high school fell apart in a mess of sobs and tears. You would watch in terror as he stood and removed his jacket, throwing it carelessly to the stage floor. You would look on in confusion as you saw the scars and fresh cuts and burns littered his forearms.
God I need your guidance. Tell me what it means to live a life where nothings as it seems. Spending days in silent fear, and spending nights in lonely prayer. Hoping that one day when you wake, those feelings won't be there. So confused because I feel complete with him. When we're alone it all somehow makes sense. Look into his eyes for some compromise. Remember the word, forget and try to bury something so intense.
You'd feel your own breath catch in your throat as he opened the side pocket on his backpack and pulls out a knife and slowly and surely cuts his way through his skin. You'd feel the tears leave your eyes and leave messy wet trails down your face. You'd remember the regret you feel as you only look on and not stop the boy from doing something rash. You'd feel your knees hit the carpet as your legs give out from underneath of you.
You learn to play the straight man, your lines become routine. Never really saying what you mean, but I know the scene will change. White picket fences, and a dog, a trophy bride, and children. God I know that's what he wants. But Jason what role do I play? Am I a savior or a phase? Am I here to damn you or to help you navigate this maze?
You remember the look of horror on his face when he meets your eyes from across the dark room. You couldn't move. You didn't know what to do. Should you have gotten Miss Pillsbury or Mister Shuester? Should you have told Figgins? Should you have reached out to him? You had no clue what to do. You sat there and watched as he violated himself. You cried tears of sympathy, but couldn't find your voice to tell him to stop.
Where confusion is a crime, so you fill your life with sound. And if you dance like hell, you hope you never touch the ground. What happens when the music stops? In the silence will he stay one day or realize that these feelings are going away? So we drive ourselves insane, spinning circles in our souls, as we dance around and play pretend. And once again, reprise our roles.
You listened as the song ended. You watched as he clutches at his arm. You watched as his blood ran down his arm and made small puddles on the stage where you danced not two hours later. You slowly closed your eyes as he grabbed his letter man jacket and wrapped it around his arm. You opened your eyes just in time to watch his mouth form the words, 'I'm sorry.' You just watch in horror, confusion, and anguish as he leaves the stage through the back door. You could have saved him. You knew you could have saved him.
Now as you stand over his casket, you wonder if you'll ever be able to step into the auditorium again. You wonder if you'll ever be able to stand on a stage again without picturing him mutilating himself. You start to cry because you already know the answer.
The End
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