FIC translation: Tomorrow's Colors (1/?)
Title: Tomorrow's Colors (1/?)
Author: ashita no kioku
Translator: Morgan D. aka morgan_d
Fandom: Glee
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurt/Adam
Word count: 1.723
Spoilers: Up to 4.14 - "I Do".
Summary: As Kurt realizes his long-bottled-up problems won't allow him to move on, he needs someone to show him he's the only one who can choose the colors of his own future.
This is my authorized translation of "Cores do Amanhã", fanfic by fellow Brazilian writer ashita no kioku. The original in Portuguese can be found here.
Tomorrow's Colors
by ashita no kioku
translated by Morgan D.
A/N: Klainers and Blaine fans in particular probably won't like this story.
A/N 2: My first fanfic! Spoilers for everything up until episode 4x14 ("I Do").
Chapter 1
Kurt sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he had returned to Lima two days ago for Mr. Schue's wedding. As he looked around at his own bedroom, he realized most of his stuff was finally organized.
Make no mistake, Kurt loved redecorating. However, getting rid of things was always a headache. Especially when it came to that room, full of memories he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
Rachel had gone back to New York the day before, but the boy had to go over the luggage he had brought with him, so he decided to stay one day longer.
He would have stayed home all day if it weren't for Blaine's insistent messages that morning telling him to stop by at McKinley so Tina could talk to him.
Now he realized his time would have been better spent unpacking his clothes, no matter how relieved he was for making peace with Tina. Putting up with her and Blaine acting like they knew what Kurt thought had been very annoying.
Why did everybody think they knew what was best for him?
It was common knowledge that Blaine couldn't comprehend other people's feelings if his life depended on it. Why would anyone trust his judgment?
"You know, son, you've been up here for far too long," said Burt as he stepped into the bedroom. "Leave that stuff in the boxes and come hang out with us."
The countertenor was hit by a wave of guilt. For the past few days he had made the effort to act as if nothing in the world could affect him. He knew his family had their own problems, especially now with his dad being treated for cancer, and Kurt hadn't wanted to add to their concerns.
Act confident, look happy, and no one will ask you any questions. That was what he kept telling himself.
And if there was a role Kurt Hummel was used to play was that of someone who was perfectly fine. He had developed that character over a long time.
He had probably have been perfecting it since his mother had passed.
His father often told the story about the first Christmas after his mother's death, when Kurt had started smiling again. Burt wouldn't get into details about that time in their lives, but the boy knew his dad considered that smile the best present ever.
"I often see your mother in you, son," Burt had told him not long after that day. "When you sing, when you smile, I feel she's still here."
So Kurt had made it his mission to take care of his father and keep the image of his mother alive.
Smile always. Never let people know how much you're hurting.
He knew his dad would be disappointed if he found out how much Kurt had endured on his own. Nothing was as strong as Burt's protective feelings towards his son except for Kurt's need to protect his father.
"Sorry, Dad. The only reason I brought this much luggage was because Santana decided to move in with us. Rachel has already given some of her things up to accommodate her new boyfriend, so she decided now it's my turn."
Not that that was all that fair, Kurt mused. Brody didn't need an extra bed or, apparently, that much space for clothes in the closet either.
"I'm impressed those girls managed to convince you to pack that many clothes." Burt laughed. "I could never make you get rid of anything but an old coat."
"Actually, Santana didn't give me much of a choice," said the countertenor, placing a closed box in the closet. After Blaine had confessed to cheating on him, Kurt had put all the photos and objects that reminded him of his ex-boyfriend in that box. He would rather not look at those things right now. "She said I could either find her some space in my bed or in my closet. I was never more eager to pack up some pairs of shoes. At least this way I'll get to rub this deal in her face whenever she complains about sleeping on the couch."
The two men chuckled, but Burt apparently felt his son's laugh wasn't all that convincing. He sat down on the bed, frowning.
"I might not be the most perceptive guy in the world," he said, "but I know you, Kurt. And that goes beyond knowing how long it'll take for you to give up on watching a game on TV."
Kurt didn't want to think of the last time they had 'watched' a game together. He decided to focus on the problem at hand: the fact that at some point his confident façade must have cracked.
"I'm just sad I have to leave so much of my stuff behind. I kind of want to take a lot of this back to New York. I bought some of these clothes only a few weeks ago."
"Well, giving up new things is easier than giving up the old ones. No emotional attachment," countered his dad.
Not necessarily, Kurt thought. New things can carry so many promises; it's painful to part with them.
He had come to that conclusion as he realized he already thought of Adam as someone who might become more than a friend at NYADA. That frightened him, because while he felt ready to go out and meet new people, he didn't think he could start another serious relationship.
A part of him wanted to run away from the older boy. The other wanted to take the chance.
So, no, giving up new things wasn't exactly easy.
On the other hand, he realized it was also hard to get rid of some old ghosts. Familiarity also meant safety. Or as much safety as possible when that which was familiar also destroyed his confidence.
His true confidence. Not that mask he had worn almost every day for the past decade.
"You know, making choices is part of growing up," his dad went on, still with a concerned look on his face. "But dealing with the consequences is what makes you a grownup."
"Dad, you're a practical man. When you try to get philosophical, it worries me. Is everything okay?" asked Kurt.
"I'm fine, kid. Just as I was the last twenty times you asked me that since you got here. But I'm wondering if you are."
"Don't I look okay?" retorted Kurt, wincing.
"On the contrary," said Burt. "You look great. You look as well as you did during your junior year, when you were being harassed. Or when you were at Dalton and spent more time than necessary telling me how wonderful that school was. Or when you were selling ads for that musical even though you didn't get the role you wanted." Burt squeezed Kurt's shoulder and continued on a lighter tone. "Son, you're acting now the same way you were acting back then, when you were working at the Lima Bean, and that's how I know that when you work too hard to look well, you're nothing but."
Kurt mentally kicked himself. He should have known that trying too hard might give him away.
The part of him he associated with his childhood (back when he could cry easily and someone would come to solve his problems) suggested this was the perfect moment to tell his dad everything. To talk about his insecurities and about how he felt certain unresolved issues were keeping him from moving on, but that he couldn't go back to how things were before either. He didn't know where to go.
It would be so good to talk to someone who was willing to listen.
In fact, there were moments when he had yielded and allowed a few people to see him vulnerable. But he quickly realized that if he let that happen in front of someone who didn't truly cared, he would only hear empty platitudes.
Courage.
If that episode had taught him something in the long run was that that kind of simple solution didn't solve anything.
That reckless advice had only caused a lot of trouble.
Life wasn't simple. Dealing with things as if there were only one truth would inevitably prove to be a mistake.
Since then, Kurt had been more careful not to be vulnerable in front of anyone. He didn't need that kind of advice.
With Blaine, it had been easy. The day they first met was the only time Blaine had been willing to listen.
The more their relationship strengthened, the more his boyfriend (now ex) seemed to avoid any deeper discussions about feelings.
On the few occasions Kurt had had the chance to say what he was thinking, to say what was bothering him, everything he had said had been dismissed as if it didn't matter.
Obviously, his dad would never act that way. His dad would do anything for him.
And that was precisely why Kurt couldn't tell him anything. Burt was more important than Kurt's problems. Adding to his worries would cause more damage than good.
I can handle it. I've been handling it for the past few years. I can ignore some of my problems without actually fixing them.
He didn't know any other way to handle things.
"I'm fine, Dad. You'd also be overly excited if you could spend a few days away from the madness that is living with Rachel, Brody and Santana."
Burt sighed. "You haven't convinced me, kiddo. But I trust you to know when to tell me things. Or you could talk to Blaine. I know you saw him earlier today."
Guilt flashed again in Kurt's conscience. Tell him. That's your chance! Don't let him keep a wrong image of Blaine.
Carrying this guilt is better than worrying your dad, said the other part of his mind.
"Come on, Dad, let's watch a game. I'm sure I'll manage to pay attention a little longer this time. Especially since there aren't any issues of Vogue in the living room."
"I know you, Kurt. You'll be playing with your cell phone in less than a minute."
Kurt could use a few moments of relaxation. In a few hours he would be back to New York, and his busy life wouldn't allow his mind to keep brooding over unpleasant thoughts.
--------------------------------------------
T/N: Please don't go without leaving your feedback. I'll make sure it reaches the author.
Author: ashita no kioku
Translator: Morgan D. aka morgan_d
Fandom: Glee
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurt/Adam
Word count: 1.723
Spoilers: Up to 4.14 - "I Do".
Summary: As Kurt realizes his long-bottled-up problems won't allow him to move on, he needs someone to show him he's the only one who can choose the colors of his own future.
This is my authorized translation of "Cores do Amanhã", fanfic by fellow Brazilian writer ashita no kioku. The original in Portuguese can be found here.
Tomorrow's Colors
by ashita no kioku
translated by Morgan D.
A/N: Klainers and Blaine fans in particular probably won't like this story.
A/N 2: My first fanfic! Spoilers for everything up until episode 4x14 ("I Do").
Chapter 1
Kurt sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he had returned to Lima two days ago for Mr. Schue's wedding. As he looked around at his own bedroom, he realized most of his stuff was finally organized.
Make no mistake, Kurt loved redecorating. However, getting rid of things was always a headache. Especially when it came to that room, full of memories he wasn't sure he was ready to face.
Rachel had gone back to New York the day before, but the boy had to go over the luggage he had brought with him, so he decided to stay one day longer.
He would have stayed home all day if it weren't for Blaine's insistent messages that morning telling him to stop by at McKinley so Tina could talk to him.
Now he realized his time would have been better spent unpacking his clothes, no matter how relieved he was for making peace with Tina. Putting up with her and Blaine acting like they knew what Kurt thought had been very annoying.
Why did everybody think they knew what was best for him?
It was common knowledge that Blaine couldn't comprehend other people's feelings if his life depended on it. Why would anyone trust his judgment?
"You know, son, you've been up here for far too long," said Burt as he stepped into the bedroom. "Leave that stuff in the boxes and come hang out with us."
The countertenor was hit by a wave of guilt. For the past few days he had made the effort to act as if nothing in the world could affect him. He knew his family had their own problems, especially now with his dad being treated for cancer, and Kurt hadn't wanted to add to their concerns.
Act confident, look happy, and no one will ask you any questions. That was what he kept telling himself.
And if there was a role Kurt Hummel was used to play was that of someone who was perfectly fine. He had developed that character over a long time.
He had probably have been perfecting it since his mother had passed.
His father often told the story about the first Christmas after his mother's death, when Kurt had started smiling again. Burt wouldn't get into details about that time in their lives, but the boy knew his dad considered that smile the best present ever.
"I often see your mother in you, son," Burt had told him not long after that day. "When you sing, when you smile, I feel she's still here."
So Kurt had made it his mission to take care of his father and keep the image of his mother alive.
Smile always. Never let people know how much you're hurting.
He knew his dad would be disappointed if he found out how much Kurt had endured on his own. Nothing was as strong as Burt's protective feelings towards his son except for Kurt's need to protect his father.
"Sorry, Dad. The only reason I brought this much luggage was because Santana decided to move in with us. Rachel has already given some of her things up to accommodate her new boyfriend, so she decided now it's my turn."
Not that that was all that fair, Kurt mused. Brody didn't need an extra bed or, apparently, that much space for clothes in the closet either.
"I'm impressed those girls managed to convince you to pack that many clothes." Burt laughed. "I could never make you get rid of anything but an old coat."
"Actually, Santana didn't give me much of a choice," said the countertenor, placing a closed box in the closet. After Blaine had confessed to cheating on him, Kurt had put all the photos and objects that reminded him of his ex-boyfriend in that box. He would rather not look at those things right now. "She said I could either find her some space in my bed or in my closet. I was never more eager to pack up some pairs of shoes. At least this way I'll get to rub this deal in her face whenever she complains about sleeping on the couch."
The two men chuckled, but Burt apparently felt his son's laugh wasn't all that convincing. He sat down on the bed, frowning.
"I might not be the most perceptive guy in the world," he said, "but I know you, Kurt. And that goes beyond knowing how long it'll take for you to give up on watching a game on TV."
Kurt didn't want to think of the last time they had 'watched' a game together. He decided to focus on the problem at hand: the fact that at some point his confident façade must have cracked.
"I'm just sad I have to leave so much of my stuff behind. I kind of want to take a lot of this back to New York. I bought some of these clothes only a few weeks ago."
"Well, giving up new things is easier than giving up the old ones. No emotional attachment," countered his dad.
Not necessarily, Kurt thought. New things can carry so many promises; it's painful to part with them.
He had come to that conclusion as he realized he already thought of Adam as someone who might become more than a friend at NYADA. That frightened him, because while he felt ready to go out and meet new people, he didn't think he could start another serious relationship.
A part of him wanted to run away from the older boy. The other wanted to take the chance.
So, no, giving up new things wasn't exactly easy.
On the other hand, he realized it was also hard to get rid of some old ghosts. Familiarity also meant safety. Or as much safety as possible when that which was familiar also destroyed his confidence.
His true confidence. Not that mask he had worn almost every day for the past decade.
"You know, making choices is part of growing up," his dad went on, still with a concerned look on his face. "But dealing with the consequences is what makes you a grownup."
"Dad, you're a practical man. When you try to get philosophical, it worries me. Is everything okay?" asked Kurt.
"I'm fine, kid. Just as I was the last twenty times you asked me that since you got here. But I'm wondering if you are."
"Don't I look okay?" retorted Kurt, wincing.
"On the contrary," said Burt. "You look great. You look as well as you did during your junior year, when you were being harassed. Or when you were at Dalton and spent more time than necessary telling me how wonderful that school was. Or when you were selling ads for that musical even though you didn't get the role you wanted." Burt squeezed Kurt's shoulder and continued on a lighter tone. "Son, you're acting now the same way you were acting back then, when you were working at the Lima Bean, and that's how I know that when you work too hard to look well, you're nothing but."
Kurt mentally kicked himself. He should have known that trying too hard might give him away.
The part of him he associated with his childhood (back when he could cry easily and someone would come to solve his problems) suggested this was the perfect moment to tell his dad everything. To talk about his insecurities and about how he felt certain unresolved issues were keeping him from moving on, but that he couldn't go back to how things were before either. He didn't know where to go.
It would be so good to talk to someone who was willing to listen.
In fact, there were moments when he had yielded and allowed a few people to see him vulnerable. But he quickly realized that if he let that happen in front of someone who didn't truly cared, he would only hear empty platitudes.
Courage.
If that episode had taught him something in the long run was that that kind of simple solution didn't solve anything.
That reckless advice had only caused a lot of trouble.
Life wasn't simple. Dealing with things as if there were only one truth would inevitably prove to be a mistake.
Since then, Kurt had been more careful not to be vulnerable in front of anyone. He didn't need that kind of advice.
With Blaine, it had been easy. The day they first met was the only time Blaine had been willing to listen.
The more their relationship strengthened, the more his boyfriend (now ex) seemed to avoid any deeper discussions about feelings.
On the few occasions Kurt had had the chance to say what he was thinking, to say what was bothering him, everything he had said had been dismissed as if it didn't matter.
Obviously, his dad would never act that way. His dad would do anything for him.
And that was precisely why Kurt couldn't tell him anything. Burt was more important than Kurt's problems. Adding to his worries would cause more damage than good.
I can handle it. I've been handling it for the past few years. I can ignore some of my problems without actually fixing them.
He didn't know any other way to handle things.
"I'm fine, Dad. You'd also be overly excited if you could spend a few days away from the madness that is living with Rachel, Brody and Santana."
Burt sighed. "You haven't convinced me, kiddo. But I trust you to know when to tell me things. Or you could talk to Blaine. I know you saw him earlier today."
Guilt flashed again in Kurt's conscience. Tell him. That's your chance! Don't let him keep a wrong image of Blaine.
Carrying this guilt is better than worrying your dad, said the other part of his mind.
"Come on, Dad, let's watch a game. I'm sure I'll manage to pay attention a little longer this time. Especially since there aren't any issues of Vogue in the living room."
"I know you, Kurt. You'll be playing with your cell phone in less than a minute."
Kurt could use a few moments of relaxation. In a few hours he would be back to New York, and his busy life wouldn't allow his mind to keep brooding over unpleasant thoughts.
--------------------------------------------
T/N: Please don't go without leaving your feedback. I'll make sure it reaches the author.