Fic: Once Upon A Future (3/?)
Title: Once Upon A Future (3/?)
Author: tomatoe18
Rating: PG-13 [this chapter]
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry, some OCs
Genre: Future fic, romance, drama, fluff.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: all of Glee season 1 and 2, probably AU after season 2.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters. I also don't own any recognizable names or brands that make an appearance in this work of fanfiction. This fanfiction is not made for profit.
Summary: Dave and Kurt find each other again after a 10-year separation.
Author's Notes: I can only ask you to bear with me for now. Thank you for reading. :)
Previous parts: One | Two
*
JULY
New York
Dave is already halfway through to his walk to Times Square on his lunch break when his phone rings. The ringtone (Ace of Base's The Sign, the pop anthem of the '90s) tells him exactly who is calling. Knowing this, Dave doesn't look forward to answering the call but if he doesn't, his phone is just going to ring for the whole day with the silly tune that will never get out of his head. Before it gets to that, he picks up his phone and answers.
"You are so not my favorite person right now," Dave says to the caller by way of greeting.
The voice across the line chuckles. "Let me guess: you're in Times Square again?"
"Shut up," Dave grumbles. "And what do you want?"
The caller laughs for a good long while before Dave growls again to signal his impatience. Only then does he relent and say, "Oh, David, you are so amusing. Who would've thought that you would develop a crazy fanboy obsession for one male supermodel? I mean, yes, the supermodel is smoking hot. But well, to see you, of all people, having this crush on him... it's kind of adorable."
Dave has had enough of the teasing. "If you don't stop making sense, man, I'm going to have to kick your ass." Then he remembers that the horrible tease is responsible for the financial well-being of their company so he follows up his threat with a softer, "Come on, what do you want?"
The voice then becomes business-like. "I want you to gently remind you that you have a board meeting at 2. It's 1.30 right now, Dave, and you need to get your besotted American ass over here. Also, later this evening, we are invited to watch the dailies at the set of the Verbinski thriller in Brooklyn so please make sure you've got everything ready."
Dave snorts. "You called just to remind me of that? I remember all that. I think I know how to manage my time."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Karofsky," comes the cynical response. "If you know how to manage your time, you wouldn't spend your lunch hour out of the office just to gaze at the freaking star. Look, the billboard is not going anywhere. It's going to stay up there until early August. Trust me on this - I checked."
Dave froze. "You checked?" he replies incredulously. "How the hell did you check?"
The chuckle that ensues grate on Dave's nerves but at least the answer doesn't take long in coming. "Again, you amuse me, my friend."
"How the hell did you manage to check?"
"See, here's the thing. Unlike you, I like socializing. So, the other night, when you told me to go in your place to the cocktail party that Conde Nast at Four Seasons, I met some of the marketing people from Calvin Klein. We talked, I mentioned how good their billboard ad in Times Square was and they ended up telling me how long Kurt is going to be on that board. Seriously, Dave, it really pays to come to these events sometimes and meet people. They can probably hook you up with him if you want."
The suggestion warrants another snort. "Yeah, right."
"No, seriously! I'm not joking. Look, the cK people are really in good terms with your Kurt--"
"He's not my Kurt!" Dave interjects. He lowers his voice when he realizes how loud he's being. "Oh, god, stop referring him to as 'my Kurt'. That's embarrassing."
"Like it's any more embarrassing than you pining for him and staring at his picture on a billboard," comes the stern, no-nonsense response. "Hey, Dave, let me give you a news flash: you are Dave Karofsky. You are smart, rich, successful and, on top of all, attractive. If you want a supermodel to be your arm candy, you can. All you have to do is make the effort,
such as go out, have a life and enjoy it."
Dave opens his mouth to argue but his friend, whom Dave has now dubbed Voice Of Reason in his head, is still on a roll. "I know you don't like meeting pretentious marketing snobs but at some point you have to. Sooner or later you're going to realize that you have the power to make things happen because you've worked too hard for it to just let yourself fade back into obscurity. I have no problems with you fanboying Kurt Hummel. All I'm asking is that you realize your place and take advantage of your position to do something about it, as it is with everything else in your life.
"Now, since this is NOT a conversation we should be having on the phone - because I can't physically smack your head to drive the point home, which is highly unsatisfying - I would really like it if you could come back to the office and get ready for the meeting. We'll have some more of this illuminating, eye-opening conversation here. And, if you come back now, I have a surprise waiting for you."
Dave can't help but ask, "Surprise? What surprise?"
"You're never going to find out if you don't come back. So how fast can you get here?"
Dave growls again, allows himself a few more moments of internal battle between his head and his heart, and finally comes upon a decision. "Damn it. FINE. I'll head back right now. But there had better be good food and good surprise, man, or I'm going to smack you."
"I am light years ahead of you, my friend. Roast beef sandwich with extra tomatoes and zero pickles, right? Not only have I already asked your lovely and gorgeous secretary Marnie to prepare it for you, I even added a slice of your favorite tiramisu to go with that. Don't you just love me now, Karofsky?"
Dave chuckles as he admits defeat. "Yeag, you're the best, Goon. I'll be there in half an hour."
"Exactly. And don't you forget it, Karofsky!"
He hangs up and obediently turns around to head back to his office. As he walks the few blocks it takes to get him to the office, he can't help but chuckle at the Big Goon's use of the term 'fanboy'. Because, really, when he does think about it... that's exactly what Dave's been doing. He's been 'fanboying Kurt' in extreme proportions.
He tells himself it's not a crush or anything like that. Not really. He still finds Kurt attractive even after ten years of not laying eyes on him physically. But then again, Kurt has always been attractive, and the population of Lima, Ohio is just too stupid and bigoted to see it. Dave used to be stupid and bigoted but at least he didn't stay that way for very long. He realized a long time ago what kind of face Kurt Hummel had: it was a face that could launch either a thousand ships or its owner's popularity to the moon. And, obviously, make a lot of money and grace the cover of every male fashion magazine in the world. Dave doesn't have to have feelings for Kurt to be able to appreciate all of this.
But maybe - just maybe - this is all coming from a feeling of guilt. He thinks that it's probably illogical to say that his need to 'fanboy Kurt' comes from a place of guilt but that's probably the more rational explanation for his behavior in the past couple of months.
It was bad enough that Dave used to bully Kurt but he made it even worse that he seemingly just dumped Kurt after they'd built a solid friendship just because he couldn't deal with his own living situation back then. He wasn't around to support Kurt's career since the beginning. He wasn't around to lend a hand - or an ear or a shoulder to cry on - when Kurt first moved out to New York with Rachel. If his own experiences at 28 of trying to adjust and adapt to this city were anything to go by, he knew that an 18-year-old Kurt Hummel must have struggled just as much back then. If Dave had been a better friend - if he had been a friend at all to Kurt and Rachel - surely they both would have needed someone to cheer them on.
And he hadn't done that. He'd packed his bags and run away at the first chance he got. God, how must Kurt have been disappointed in him...
Yeah, I'll write to you, Fancy. I'll write and call so you won't get lonely with just Rachel for company.
Dave cringes as he remembers his promise to Kurt before they all left their hometown to whatever future that awaited them in other cities and states. It was one Dave hadn't been able to keep because he was - probably still is - a scared little boy who couldn't handle how extraordinarily ordinary he was.
So that's how he ends up 'fanboying Kurt' by continuing to go Times Square just so he can gaze upon the face that used to look smile at him as they stood in front of a row of lockers in the hallway. In the last month, he's even begun collecting magazines with Kurt in it (with the help of his secretary, Marnie) and keeping an eye out on Kurt on TV shows. So far he's managed to catch Kurt's appearance in E! Channel, in the news portion, twice. He doesn't Tivo any of it, though, because, no, he's not progressed from 'fanboy' to 'stalker' just yet.
He can, however, as his friend suggested, he can progress from 'fanboy' to 'classy admirer'. He can start going out more and meet people who might know how to get him in touch with Kurt. It's going to be a major pain in the ass because he's not a social creature who mingles well with complete strangers and superficial acquintances. But he thinks if he can just focus on the goal of finally being able to meet Kurt one day in the future, he might be able to withstand this tedious chore.
If he's a little braver, of course, he'll just open his old address book and contact some of his old McKinley friends as soon as he gets hom. Unfortunately, the guilt he has for Kurt is the same one he has for almost everyone in his old circle. He's been a shitty friend to them. He is well aware of this... but he's not ready to hear it said from the likes of Finn Hudson and Sam Evans. It would probably hurt even more to hear it from Finn than it would from Kurt. Somehow.
No, he's not that brave. So for now he will deal with this obsession he has for Kurt by doing what his friend suggested on the phone mere minutes earlier. Yeah, he can do that. He hopes so, anyway.
JULY
Milan
He is such a chicken. He can't believe he's chickening out at the last minute, which everyone would say is a massive pity, but Kurt can hardly help the way he feels. And Carl is so going to hate him for this.
It took Kurt's manager a month and various phone calls to various people (including "my nasty ex girlfriend, Kurt, you so owe me for this!") but, against all odds, Carl has managed to get hold of the cameraman from the Paris shoot. His name's Tom Andrews, British, 31, and the assistant of the DoP in the Chanel set. He is also extremely busy and often goes to location shoots in places that people can't even imagine going. Yesterday, Carl came to Kurt with a huge grin on his face and the announcement that "I located Andrews. He's filming in a small town in Brazil but the production has a big crew so you can get in touch with him without any problem! I'll forward you the number." Then Kurt's phone beeps with Carl's message, containing the man's contact details, and...
... now Kurt doesn't want to call him.
He just can't do it.
Rachel, of course, gets the wrong idea. She thinks he's interested in Tom that way and is nervous about being rejected. She also teases him mercilessly about it.
"Is the camera guy really that HOT that you had Carl track him down all the way to South America? Wow, I bet he looks like Finn. The last guy you dated - Garrett whatsisname - looks so much like Finn I thought I had to fight you for him again, for old times' sake!"
"Rachel, give it up," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. "And stop it with the Finn jokes. It's disgusting. He's my brother."
"Stepbrother," Rachel reminds him merrily, giggling in a very unladylike way that makes Kurt immensely glad that they are not in the public eye right now. "And admit it. You like tall guys with warm puppy eyes and terrible dancing skills."
"Hardly," Kurt snorts. Then he sees the opening he's been looking for since two months ago and seizes it. "I prefer tall guys with with beefy arms and a broad chest who not only dances very well, but also croons like Sinatra."
Rachel opens her mouth, undoubtedly to say something witty, but then closes it as it suddenly hits her just who and what exactly Kurt is talking about. Her eyes grow sympathetic and she scoots closer to him in the chaise they're seated on. Cupping his face in her hands, she gazes into his eyes and smiles unsurely.
"Oh, Kurt," she sighs. "After all these years? Really?"
"Apparently, yes," Kurt acknowledges with a wry tone.
Then it all comes spilling out: about the occurrence in Paris, about hearing Dave's name coming out of Tom's lips and about his conversation with Sam. He hesitates to add the last bit - about getting Tom's number from Carl so he can ask him about Dave - but in the end he doesn't hold back. What he doesn't add, however, is the fact that he's chickening out.
To her credit, Rachel doesn't tease anymore. She doesn't jump into questions or conclusions. She merely listens to him tell the story without interruption, paying attention to every word he says. The teenage Rachel would never do anything like this - teenage Rachel is a self-absorbed nightmare of a girl that made Kurt want to stitch her mouth close - but the adult Rachel is a good, loyal friend who listens and gives him unconditional support.
As soon as Kurt's done with the story, she takes a deep breath and snuggles even closer to Kurt in their seat. He hates to admit it but he's definitely lying if he doesn't say that he snuggles closer to Rachel at that moment. He's been feeling awkward - not to mention, slightly needy - since the Paris filming and he relishes the comfort she provides him.
He hates himself for feeling this way. He's tried so hard to forget about Dave, whom Kurt now has labeled "The One That Got Away" in his head. He doesn't want to think about the What Ifs anymore because it's useless and he just wants to go back to enjoying his life the way he did before hearing Dave's name. But he can't. And yet he's scared.
Blah. I'm back to being an teenage gay drama queen. How do I put up with myself?
Fortunately for him, Rachel manages to distract him before he plunges deeper into the hole of self-loathing he's dug for himself.
"Are you going to call him?" she asks. "Tom Andrews, I mean."
Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"Why good would it do? Tom might not be Dave's acquintance after all. The way he said his name in Paris, it sounded more like business." Rolling his shoulders again, he adds, "And even if Tom does know Dave personally and can tell me how to contact him, would Dave and I even still connect?"
"Of course you would," Rachel says. "He was a good friend! He was your friend."
"Yes, and people change, Rachel. You've changed. I've changed. Dave... well, we haven't seen each other for ten years. He didn't bother staying in touch. To some, that might be a hint of him not wanting to have any connection to his past. For all we know, he might be married with two kids, a dog and a house with a white picket fence."
Rachel pulls away to give him A Look. "Kurt, Dave is gay."
Kurt matches Rachel's Look with one of his own. "Rachel, gay people can actually have that now. Your dads have it with you. Legally, too, now that half the country, including Ohio, has legalized gay marriage."
She winces, realizing her own mistake. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Kurt says, patting her knee. "Look, all I'm saying is, I'm not the best example of domestic gay life. No one in our world is an example of that. We're all too busy being divas to be domestic. I'm just saying that, if Dave is that kind of gay man - the marrying with kids and pets kind - I don't want to disrupt his life by bringing myself into it. He probably has worked too hard to achieve what he has right now… let him enjoy it without being reminded of how his life used to suck before he came out of the closet."
Rachel's eyes took on a hard glint when she fixes them on Kurt the next moment. "You're NOT a reminder of how bad someone's life is. You're just making excuses now. You and Dave had a beautiful romance, no matter how short lived it was--"
Kurt purses his lips and squeezes Rachel's hands. "Well, then, let's leave it that way: beautiful and short lived. May the memory stay wonderful for Dave as it is for me."
And that's the end of the conversation because Rachel's minders come at that moment to take her for rehearsal. Carl himself appears shortly after to take Kurt for his appointment with L'Uomo Vogue. They're having an interview with the journalist over brunch, to be followed up with a location shoot in the San Siro stadium for the same magazine. Kurt, along with two footballers (one each from the two rival Milanese clubs), will be modeling the latest in Dolce & Gabbana fall collection.
The speed with which Carl organizes Kurt's activities leaves him no room for further brooding. But a few hours later, as he's being fitted for a D&G shirt next to the extremely handsome (but sadly straight) soccer athletes in the changing room, Kurt finds himself staring at the message on his phone again. The handsome Italian footballers have a gregarious presence. Although they're both rivals, they seem to get along well enough with each other to be able to continue joking comfortably with one another. The team of stylists and make-up artists around them laugh along with their jokes.
Thumb hovering over touch screen, Kurt however is ignorant of the small riot happening near him. He's currently once again unsure of what to do. He wants to delete the message just as badly as he wants to use the number for a phone call. He doesn't know how long he's stood there, staring at the message with a pair of hands trying to fix his collar to look right and his mind going 'Call? Don't call. Damn it, just call!'
It's becoming almost pathetic when suddenly he gets bumped from the side by Antonio, one of those footballers. He's tripped on a bag someone left lying around on the floor and smashes against Kurt's arm. Horrified by his action, he looks up apologetically to Kurt.
"Oddio, Kurt. Scusami. Stai bene? Are you all right? Did I hurt you? You didn't drop your phone, did you?"
Dazed, Kurt meets the Italian's eyes and blinks a couple of times. Antonio is still apologizing, "I'm really, really sorry. You wonder how I manage to score goals with clumsy feet like these, don't you? I'm so sorry!"
Kurt snaps out of his trance and puts on an indulgent smile. "It's okay, Antonio. I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm quite sure."
The other footballer, Stefano, bounds toward them and starts tugging at his fellow athlete. Chuckling, he says, "Dai, Antonio, basta. You're traumatizing the poor man. Sorry, Kurt, I'll just take this clown away from you, okay?"
Muttering one last apology, Antonio lets himself be dragged away by Stefano, leaving Kurt blissfully alone once again. Or, as long as he can be in a set of a photo shoot. His make-up artist approaches him with a concerned look on her face and asks him if he's all right.
Before he can answer her, Kurt glances at the screen of his phone. To his horror, he suddenly realizes that he has hit a button on it. He must have pressed the button during the accident with Antonio earlier. Feeling his stomach drop, Kurt gapes at his phone.
Oh dear Dolce, what in the world did he just do?
To be continued
Author: tomatoe18
Rating: PG-13 [this chapter]
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Dave Karofsky/Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry, some OCs
Genre: Future fic, romance, drama, fluff.
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: all of Glee season 1 and 2, probably AU after season 2.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of its characters. I also don't own any recognizable names or brands that make an appearance in this work of fanfiction. This fanfiction is not made for profit.
Summary: Dave and Kurt find each other again after a 10-year separation.
Author's Notes: I can only ask you to bear with me for now. Thank you for reading. :)
Previous parts: One | Two
*
JULY
New York
Dave is already halfway through to his walk to Times Square on his lunch break when his phone rings. The ringtone (Ace of Base's The Sign, the pop anthem of the '90s) tells him exactly who is calling. Knowing this, Dave doesn't look forward to answering the call but if he doesn't, his phone is just going to ring for the whole day with the silly tune that will never get out of his head. Before it gets to that, he picks up his phone and answers.
"You are so not my favorite person right now," Dave says to the caller by way of greeting.
The voice across the line chuckles. "Let me guess: you're in Times Square again?"
"Shut up," Dave grumbles. "And what do you want?"
The caller laughs for a good long while before Dave growls again to signal his impatience. Only then does he relent and say, "Oh, David, you are so amusing. Who would've thought that you would develop a crazy fanboy obsession for one male supermodel? I mean, yes, the supermodel is smoking hot. But well, to see you, of all people, having this crush on him... it's kind of adorable."
Dave has had enough of the teasing. "If you don't stop making sense, man, I'm going to have to kick your ass." Then he remembers that the horrible tease is responsible for the financial well-being of their company so he follows up his threat with a softer, "Come on, what do you want?"
The voice then becomes business-like. "I want you to gently remind you that you have a board meeting at 2. It's 1.30 right now, Dave, and you need to get your besotted American ass over here. Also, later this evening, we are invited to watch the dailies at the set of the Verbinski thriller in Brooklyn so please make sure you've got everything ready."
Dave snorts. "You called just to remind me of that? I remember all that. I think I know how to manage my time."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Karofsky," comes the cynical response. "If you know how to manage your time, you wouldn't spend your lunch hour out of the office just to gaze at the freaking star. Look, the billboard is not going anywhere. It's going to stay up there until early August. Trust me on this - I checked."
Dave froze. "You checked?" he replies incredulously. "How the hell did you check?"
The chuckle that ensues grate on Dave's nerves but at least the answer doesn't take long in coming. "Again, you amuse me, my friend."
"How the hell did you manage to check?"
"See, here's the thing. Unlike you, I like socializing. So, the other night, when you told me to go in your place to the cocktail party that Conde Nast at Four Seasons, I met some of the marketing people from Calvin Klein. We talked, I mentioned how good their billboard ad in Times Square was and they ended up telling me how long Kurt is going to be on that board. Seriously, Dave, it really pays to come to these events sometimes and meet people. They can probably hook you up with him if you want."
The suggestion warrants another snort. "Yeah, right."
"No, seriously! I'm not joking. Look, the cK people are really in good terms with your Kurt--"
"He's not my Kurt!" Dave interjects. He lowers his voice when he realizes how loud he's being. "Oh, god, stop referring him to as 'my Kurt'. That's embarrassing."
"Like it's any more embarrassing than you pining for him and staring at his picture on a billboard," comes the stern, no-nonsense response. "Hey, Dave, let me give you a news flash: you are Dave Karofsky. You are smart, rich, successful and, on top of all, attractive. If you want a supermodel to be your arm candy, you can. All you have to do is make the effort,
such as go out, have a life and enjoy it."
Dave opens his mouth to argue but his friend, whom Dave has now dubbed Voice Of Reason in his head, is still on a roll. "I know you don't like meeting pretentious marketing snobs but at some point you have to. Sooner or later you're going to realize that you have the power to make things happen because you've worked too hard for it to just let yourself fade back into obscurity. I have no problems with you fanboying Kurt Hummel. All I'm asking is that you realize your place and take advantage of your position to do something about it, as it is with everything else in your life.
"Now, since this is NOT a conversation we should be having on the phone - because I can't physically smack your head to drive the point home, which is highly unsatisfying - I would really like it if you could come back to the office and get ready for the meeting. We'll have some more of this illuminating, eye-opening conversation here. And, if you come back now, I have a surprise waiting for you."
Dave can't help but ask, "Surprise? What surprise?"
"You're never going to find out if you don't come back. So how fast can you get here?"
Dave growls again, allows himself a few more moments of internal battle between his head and his heart, and finally comes upon a decision. "Damn it. FINE. I'll head back right now. But there had better be good food and good surprise, man, or I'm going to smack you."
"I am light years ahead of you, my friend. Roast beef sandwich with extra tomatoes and zero pickles, right? Not only have I already asked your lovely and gorgeous secretary Marnie to prepare it for you, I even added a slice of your favorite tiramisu to go with that. Don't you just love me now, Karofsky?"
Dave chuckles as he admits defeat. "Yeag, you're the best, Goon. I'll be there in half an hour."
"Exactly. And don't you forget it, Karofsky!"
He hangs up and obediently turns around to head back to his office. As he walks the few blocks it takes to get him to the office, he can't help but chuckle at the Big Goon's use of the term 'fanboy'. Because, really, when he does think about it... that's exactly what Dave's been doing. He's been 'fanboying Kurt' in extreme proportions.
He tells himself it's not a crush or anything like that. Not really. He still finds Kurt attractive even after ten years of not laying eyes on him physically. But then again, Kurt has always been attractive, and the population of Lima, Ohio is just too stupid and bigoted to see it. Dave used to be stupid and bigoted but at least he didn't stay that way for very long. He realized a long time ago what kind of face Kurt Hummel had: it was a face that could launch either a thousand ships or its owner's popularity to the moon. And, obviously, make a lot of money and grace the cover of every male fashion magazine in the world. Dave doesn't have to have feelings for Kurt to be able to appreciate all of this.
But maybe - just maybe - this is all coming from a feeling of guilt. He thinks that it's probably illogical to say that his need to 'fanboy Kurt' comes from a place of guilt but that's probably the more rational explanation for his behavior in the past couple of months.
It was bad enough that Dave used to bully Kurt but he made it even worse that he seemingly just dumped Kurt after they'd built a solid friendship just because he couldn't deal with his own living situation back then. He wasn't around to support Kurt's career since the beginning. He wasn't around to lend a hand - or an ear or a shoulder to cry on - when Kurt first moved out to New York with Rachel. If his own experiences at 28 of trying to adjust and adapt to this city were anything to go by, he knew that an 18-year-old Kurt Hummel must have struggled just as much back then. If Dave had been a better friend - if he had been a friend at all to Kurt and Rachel - surely they both would have needed someone to cheer them on.
And he hadn't done that. He'd packed his bags and run away at the first chance he got. God, how must Kurt have been disappointed in him...
Yeah, I'll write to you, Fancy. I'll write and call so you won't get lonely with just Rachel for company.
Dave cringes as he remembers his promise to Kurt before they all left their hometown to whatever future that awaited them in other cities and states. It was one Dave hadn't been able to keep because he was - probably still is - a scared little boy who couldn't handle how extraordinarily ordinary he was.
So that's how he ends up 'fanboying Kurt' by continuing to go Times Square just so he can gaze upon the face that used to look smile at him as they stood in front of a row of lockers in the hallway. In the last month, he's even begun collecting magazines with Kurt in it (with the help of his secretary, Marnie) and keeping an eye out on Kurt on TV shows. So far he's managed to catch Kurt's appearance in E! Channel, in the news portion, twice. He doesn't Tivo any of it, though, because, no, he's not progressed from 'fanboy' to 'stalker' just yet.
He can, however, as his friend suggested, he can progress from 'fanboy' to 'classy admirer'. He can start going out more and meet people who might know how to get him in touch with Kurt. It's going to be a major pain in the ass because he's not a social creature who mingles well with complete strangers and superficial acquintances. But he thinks if he can just focus on the goal of finally being able to meet Kurt one day in the future, he might be able to withstand this tedious chore.
If he's a little braver, of course, he'll just open his old address book and contact some of his old McKinley friends as soon as he gets hom. Unfortunately, the guilt he has for Kurt is the same one he has for almost everyone in his old circle. He's been a shitty friend to them. He is well aware of this... but he's not ready to hear it said from the likes of Finn Hudson and Sam Evans. It would probably hurt even more to hear it from Finn than it would from Kurt. Somehow.
No, he's not that brave. So for now he will deal with this obsession he has for Kurt by doing what his friend suggested on the phone mere minutes earlier. Yeah, he can do that. He hopes so, anyway.
JULY
Milan
He is such a chicken. He can't believe he's chickening out at the last minute, which everyone would say is a massive pity, but Kurt can hardly help the way he feels. And Carl is so going to hate him for this.
It took Kurt's manager a month and various phone calls to various people (including "my nasty ex girlfriend, Kurt, you so owe me for this!") but, against all odds, Carl has managed to get hold of the cameraman from the Paris shoot. His name's Tom Andrews, British, 31, and the assistant of the DoP in the Chanel set. He is also extremely busy and often goes to location shoots in places that people can't even imagine going. Yesterday, Carl came to Kurt with a huge grin on his face and the announcement that "I located Andrews. He's filming in a small town in Brazil but the production has a big crew so you can get in touch with him without any problem! I'll forward you the number." Then Kurt's phone beeps with Carl's message, containing the man's contact details, and...
... now Kurt doesn't want to call him.
He just can't do it.
Rachel, of course, gets the wrong idea. She thinks he's interested in Tom that way and is nervous about being rejected. She also teases him mercilessly about it.
"Is the camera guy really that HOT that you had Carl track him down all the way to South America? Wow, I bet he looks like Finn. The last guy you dated - Garrett whatsisname - looks so much like Finn I thought I had to fight you for him again, for old times' sake!"
"Rachel, give it up," Kurt says, rolling his eyes. "And stop it with the Finn jokes. It's disgusting. He's my brother."
"Stepbrother," Rachel reminds him merrily, giggling in a very unladylike way that makes Kurt immensely glad that they are not in the public eye right now. "And admit it. You like tall guys with warm puppy eyes and terrible dancing skills."
"Hardly," Kurt snorts. Then he sees the opening he's been looking for since two months ago and seizes it. "I prefer tall guys with with beefy arms and a broad chest who not only dances very well, but also croons like Sinatra."
Rachel opens her mouth, undoubtedly to say something witty, but then closes it as it suddenly hits her just who and what exactly Kurt is talking about. Her eyes grow sympathetic and she scoots closer to him in the chaise they're seated on. Cupping his face in her hands, she gazes into his eyes and smiles unsurely.
"Oh, Kurt," she sighs. "After all these years? Really?"
"Apparently, yes," Kurt acknowledges with a wry tone.
Then it all comes spilling out: about the occurrence in Paris, about hearing Dave's name coming out of Tom's lips and about his conversation with Sam. He hesitates to add the last bit - about getting Tom's number from Carl so he can ask him about Dave - but in the end he doesn't hold back. What he doesn't add, however, is the fact that he's chickening out.
To her credit, Rachel doesn't tease anymore. She doesn't jump into questions or conclusions. She merely listens to him tell the story without interruption, paying attention to every word he says. The teenage Rachel would never do anything like this - teenage Rachel is a self-absorbed nightmare of a girl that made Kurt want to stitch her mouth close - but the adult Rachel is a good, loyal friend who listens and gives him unconditional support.
As soon as Kurt's done with the story, she takes a deep breath and snuggles even closer to Kurt in their seat. He hates to admit it but he's definitely lying if he doesn't say that he snuggles closer to Rachel at that moment. He's been feeling awkward - not to mention, slightly needy - since the Paris filming and he relishes the comfort she provides him.
He hates himself for feeling this way. He's tried so hard to forget about Dave, whom Kurt now has labeled "The One That Got Away" in his head. He doesn't want to think about the What Ifs anymore because it's useless and he just wants to go back to enjoying his life the way he did before hearing Dave's name. But he can't. And yet he's scared.
Blah. I'm back to being an teenage gay drama queen. How do I put up with myself?
Fortunately for him, Rachel manages to distract him before he plunges deeper into the hole of self-loathing he's dug for himself.
"Are you going to call him?" she asks. "Tom Andrews, I mean."
Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"Why good would it do? Tom might not be Dave's acquintance after all. The way he said his name in Paris, it sounded more like business." Rolling his shoulders again, he adds, "And even if Tom does know Dave personally and can tell me how to contact him, would Dave and I even still connect?"
"Of course you would," Rachel says. "He was a good friend! He was your friend."
"Yes, and people change, Rachel. You've changed. I've changed. Dave... well, we haven't seen each other for ten years. He didn't bother staying in touch. To some, that might be a hint of him not wanting to have any connection to his past. For all we know, he might be married with two kids, a dog and a house with a white picket fence."
Rachel pulls away to give him A Look. "Kurt, Dave is gay."
Kurt matches Rachel's Look with one of his own. "Rachel, gay people can actually have that now. Your dads have it with you. Legally, too, now that half the country, including Ohio, has legalized gay marriage."
She winces, realizing her own mistake. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Kurt says, patting her knee. "Look, all I'm saying is, I'm not the best example of domestic gay life. No one in our world is an example of that. We're all too busy being divas to be domestic. I'm just saying that, if Dave is that kind of gay man - the marrying with kids and pets kind - I don't want to disrupt his life by bringing myself into it. He probably has worked too hard to achieve what he has right now… let him enjoy it without being reminded of how his life used to suck before he came out of the closet."
Rachel's eyes took on a hard glint when she fixes them on Kurt the next moment. "You're NOT a reminder of how bad someone's life is. You're just making excuses now. You and Dave had a beautiful romance, no matter how short lived it was--"
Kurt purses his lips and squeezes Rachel's hands. "Well, then, let's leave it that way: beautiful and short lived. May the memory stay wonderful for Dave as it is for me."
And that's the end of the conversation because Rachel's minders come at that moment to take her for rehearsal. Carl himself appears shortly after to take Kurt for his appointment with L'Uomo Vogue. They're having an interview with the journalist over brunch, to be followed up with a location shoot in the San Siro stadium for the same magazine. Kurt, along with two footballers (one each from the two rival Milanese clubs), will be modeling the latest in Dolce & Gabbana fall collection.
The speed with which Carl organizes Kurt's activities leaves him no room for further brooding. But a few hours later, as he's being fitted for a D&G shirt next to the extremely handsome (but sadly straight) soccer athletes in the changing room, Kurt finds himself staring at the message on his phone again. The handsome Italian footballers have a gregarious presence. Although they're both rivals, they seem to get along well enough with each other to be able to continue joking comfortably with one another. The team of stylists and make-up artists around them laugh along with their jokes.
Thumb hovering over touch screen, Kurt however is ignorant of the small riot happening near him. He's currently once again unsure of what to do. He wants to delete the message just as badly as he wants to use the number for a phone call. He doesn't know how long he's stood there, staring at the message with a pair of hands trying to fix his collar to look right and his mind going 'Call? Don't call. Damn it, just call!'
It's becoming almost pathetic when suddenly he gets bumped from the side by Antonio, one of those footballers. He's tripped on a bag someone left lying around on the floor and smashes against Kurt's arm. Horrified by his action, he looks up apologetically to Kurt.
"Oddio, Kurt. Scusami. Stai bene? Are you all right? Did I hurt you? You didn't drop your phone, did you?"
Dazed, Kurt meets the Italian's eyes and blinks a couple of times. Antonio is still apologizing, "I'm really, really sorry. You wonder how I manage to score goals with clumsy feet like these, don't you? I'm so sorry!"
Kurt snaps out of his trance and puts on an indulgent smile. "It's okay, Antonio. I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm quite sure."
The other footballer, Stefano, bounds toward them and starts tugging at his fellow athlete. Chuckling, he says, "Dai, Antonio, basta. You're traumatizing the poor man. Sorry, Kurt, I'll just take this clown away from you, okay?"
Muttering one last apology, Antonio lets himself be dragged away by Stefano, leaving Kurt blissfully alone once again. Or, as long as he can be in a set of a photo shoot. His make-up artist approaches him with a concerned look on her face and asks him if he's all right.
Before he can answer her, Kurt glances at the screen of his phone. To his horror, he suddenly realizes that he has hit a button on it. He must have pressed the button during the accident with Antonio earlier. Feeling his stomach drop, Kurt gapes at his phone.
Oh dear Dolce, what in the world did he just do?
To be continued