Fic: Esse Quam Videri (2/?)
TITLE: Esse Quam Videri
AUTHOR: TheJadeSabre923
RATING: PG-13 (R overall)
GENRE: AU, Drama, Romance
PAIRING: Klaine
WARNINGS: mentions of bullying, some homophobic language
WORD COUNT: 2,152
SUMMARY: In order to pad his NYADA resume, Kurt agrees to be a french tutor for Blaine Anderson, an new Junior transfer to McKinley. BadBoy!Blaine, with some disregard to parts of seasons 2 and 3.
A/N: The other day, I readwhat_larks’ post about her thoughts on BadBoy!Blaine, specifically how BadBoy!Blaine is often SexualHarassment!Blaine or SexualAssault!Blaine. Then BAM! This little plot bunny of a BadBoy!PunkAss!Blaine came about.
Previous
The first week of tutoring Blaine was trying to say the least. He had a habit of showing up late, if he showed up before school at all. Of course, he made up for it at the most inopportune times. And when he did did show up, he spent more time doing magic tricks with a coin than reviewing conditional statements. Kurt swore that if another quarter was pulled out of his nose, he would shove it down the other boy’s throat. This all came to head when he showed up five minutes before first bell for tutoring, telling him to skip first period.
After the first two days, Kurt had come to the conclusion that Blaine was unable to show up on time and planned accordingly. While he still showed up on time, he made sure to have other homework to work on or sheet music for a glee performance. That morning he was tweaking an arrangement he was working on for Rachel which mashed Think of Me with Sarah McLochlan’s I Will Remember You. While Rachel was a brilliant vocal performer, she lacked any ability to manipulate music. In fact, while she had written the lyrics for New Direction’s regionals ballad, the music was composed by Puck of all people. Kurt appreciated the irony.
“Phantom of the Opera?”
He looked up to see Blaine standing next to him, leaning on the library table. One eyebrow was slightly raised as the other boy silently mocked him, or at the very least judging him, which, based on the heavy rock music blaring from his earbuds, he had no right doing.
“It’s a classic.” Kurt shuffled the sheet music back into its folder and pulled out the French 3 book from his bag. “And besides, you’re one to talk.”
“Elisabeth is highly acclaimed.”
“Sure,” rolling his eyes. “And you’re late again.”
“There was traffic.” His eyes shifted around the library before changing the subject. “The emergency exit in the back of the library has a busted lock. Come on.”
“What?”
“The door behind the biographies,” motioned Blaine. “The magnetic lock is broken. Let’s get out of here.”
“Homeroom starts in four minutes; we’d be late,” said Kurt, afraid of where this was going.
“Kinda the point.”
“Yeah, well some of us can’t afford to slack off,” he replied, slamming his book closed louder than he meant to. Mrs. Sincere, the elderly librarian, shot him a withering glare. He sent her a sheepish look, hoping she wouldn’t ban him from the library.
“Whatever,” muttered Blaine, picking up his backpack. “You know, if you don’t loosen up you’ll have a heart attack before you’re thirty.”
“You might be content to spend high school neglecting any sort of responsibility you have,” whispered Kurt quickly. He was doing his best not to tear up or slap the punk in the face. “But some of us actually have plans when we graduate. If we graduate.”
“Huh. You say it as if I should care.”
“Well obviously you don’t,” he shot back, getting angrier and angrier at the shorter boy’s indifferent attitude. “I don’t even know why I bother. God, you don’t even care, do you?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “About french, not particularly.”
“About anything. You’re just a lazy, son of a bitch that will never amount to anything!”
“Do you think I want to be in this hick town?” shouted Blaine. “Have my life completely uprooted by my asshole father and forced to live in backwater Ohio with my bachelor uncle? This entire town is full closed-minded rednecks; and you’re included in that.”
Kurt was stunned silent. Blaine just stared at him for a few seconds. Shaking his head, he started to rush by but turned at the last minute. “Believe me, I’m out of here the day I turn eighteen. Besides, it’s not like anyone in this school gets much of an education anyways; the US history text was published in 1985.”
As he tried to formulate a response, the other boy stormed out of the library, slamming the door.
Despite everything, he found feelings of self loathing creeping up. Yes he was angry for Blaine’s insensitivity about his cardiovascular health, but was there really any way for him to have known about Burt’s heart attack last year?
“You - out.”
He whipped around to find Mrs. Sincere. “But...I..uh...”
“The library is not Ohio Stadium. People are trying work.” Scanning the library, he couldn’t help but sigh. He was the only student in here for god’s sakes. “I do not want to see you in here again - you or that other boy.”
“-and now I’m banned from the library. I mean does that sort of thing go on your permanent record?”
“I don’t think so. Now come on! Focus!”
Rachel had dragged Kurt to the Lima Bean after West Side Story rehearsal so the two of them could run lines for the wedding scene. By her estimation, their sexual energy was off and it was completely his fault (“I understand you’re gay and thus don’t find me attractive, but you have to learn to play it straight. Sean Heyes was so unconvincing as a straight man, Promises, Promises closed.”). He had to bite his tongue because there was nothing remotely sexy about the gray skirt she had paired with brown, blue, and tan argyle sweater. Seriously, even if he was straight, he’d have no desire to stick it in her.
“Well, you’re not the one with disciplinary mark on your permanent record. God, with this will I even be able to get into NYADA?"
“Kurt, focus!” hissed Rachel “We open in three weeks and you are not completely off book.”
“You are the only person in the entire cast off book, Rachel,” Kurt sighed, closing his script. “I know all my songs and I will know all my lines by the end of the weekend. Besides, is the Lima Bean really the spot for us to be running lines?”
“Well, we can't do it in the library anymore, can we?” she snapped at him.
He threw up his hands in frustration. “We never ran lines in the library before this whole thing! Why can't we do this at your house?”
“Because Daddy is on this weird interior decorating kick again and he's re-fung shui-ing the entire house. Papa said just to go with it, but I'm not sure if the paint fumes will adversely affect my vocals.”
“That's not the only thing that the fumes are adversely affecting,” mumbled Kurt around his mocha.
“But seriously, Kurt,” said Rachel, not hearing him. “I can't see how getting banned from the library could get back to NYADA; it's not like you rigged the student council elections.”
“Don't even joke about that.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I'm sure Figgins will find a way to use it against me. The man doesn't like me. I wouldn't put it past him to report the whole incident to every school I apply to.
“Now don't be over dramatic.”
“Over dramatic would be insinuating he would show to ever school in person. And no, I'm not making it all up in my head,” he added, effectively cutting the soprano off. “Even before the lawsuit he's never taken my side on anything. He practically said that I made up the whole bullying thing with Karofsky last year. And I'm pretty sure then man's a bit of a homophobe. His church helps to run a conversion therapy summer camp.”
“You don't know that.”
“Rachel, it came out during discovery at the deposition this summer. Why do you think the school districtic had to make all of those concession?”
She looked properly chastised. He just stared at his half empty cup in despair.
“That's it,” he mumbled to no one in particular. “I'm going to have to keep tutoring Blaine Anderson. And possibly start singing to the disabled if I have any hope of getting into NYADA”
“Well I have Saturday afternoons booked at Lima Memorial's Children's Ward so you'll either have to find another time or-”
“I was being facetious.”
“Oh.” Rachel gave him a small smile. “I think you need to stop tutoring Anderson. I say this as your friend and co-star, all this stress will wreck havoc on your voice. And Kurt, honestly, I can't imagine taking New York by storm without you.”
“Thanks Rachel. Maybe your right.”
“Madame Ricci?” Kurt knocked on the french classroom door for his weekly tutoring meeting.
“Bonjour, Kurt. Comment vas-tu?” How are you? asked M. Ricci, motioning him inside. “Assiends. Assiends. J'espère que tu as apporté ton déjeuner.” Sit. Sit. I hope you brought your lunch.
Nodding his head, he pulling up a chair to the large desk and grabbed his lunch from his satchel; roasted pepper hummus wrap with lettus and tomato, two rice cakes, and a bottle of pomegranate juice. “Ça va moyen.” I'm doing okay.
“Alors,”So said M. Ricci, picking at her salad with her fork. “Comment est-ce que va le monitorat avec M. Anderson?” How's the tutoring with Mr. Anderson going?
Kurt groaned. “Il difficil'a été. Il est tardif à tout bout de champ. Il fait l'imbécile si il vient.” It's been difficult. He's late all the time. When he's there, he fools around.
“Je sais que il a été dur-” I know it's been tough-
“Madame,” he nearly shouted, cutting the teacher off. “Il dérange moi au cours de ma période libre. Je ne pense pas qui je peux continuer l'aidant.” He bothers me during my free period. I don't think that I can keep helping him.
“Kurt, peux-tu continuer pour encore une semaine?” Can you continue for another week inquired the french teacher seriously. “Les bulletins scolaires pour milieu de quartier ont été envoyé à les maisons hier. Je sais qu'ils des èléves qui voudront augmenter leurs notes. Je peux reporter Blaine avec un de ces èléves.” Mid-quarter reports were sent home yesterday. I know that there are students who will want to bring up their grades. I can switch Blaine with one of them.
“Il semble bien.” It sounds good.
The two continued to discuss Blaine's progress, or lack there of, in class. M. Ricci gave him the sections the class would be covering for the next week. She provided him with extra worksheets if by chance Blaine actually decided to put any effort into his sessions. When Kurt left the french classroom feeling a bit better about his situation. Of course, the feeling quickly left when he saw who was standing by his locker.
“Here.” Blaine shoved a CD with a sleeve into his hand before he could even turn his combination lock.
“What is this?”
“It's the country's nuclear codes - what do you think it is? It's a CD.”
“I can see that,” said Kurt opening his locker and grabbing his books for the afternoon. “What makes you think I would ever listen to the same music you do?”
“Just take the goddamn CD, okay.”
Noting Blaine's frustration, he took the disc, reading the album title which was written in Blaine's cramped scrawl. “Phantom? Thanks, I guess.”
“Trust me, you'll like it.”
“I'm sure I will,” he sighed and shoved the CD into his satchel. “Now if you'll excuse me...”
“Hey, what about our french sessions?” shouted Blaine as Kurt walked away.
“Do you really think I'd continue them after what happened yesterday,” he replied. Yes, he had told the french teacher that he would give Blaine another week, but might as well make him sweat. “I'm banned from the library no thanks to you.”
“Listen, I didn't know that your dad had a heart attack last year, ok.” the shorter boy called after him, carding a hand through his greased hair.
Kurt took a deep breath before turning around. Intellectually, he knew the other boy had no idea that his dad had had a heart attack last fall. And looking back on the whole thing, he supposed that he had said some nasty things in retaliation. Besides, he had promised one more week.
“We have to find a new place to meet,” he sighed.
Blaine shot him a cheeky grin before turning to head to class. If anyone were asked, he would thoroughly deny it, but color crept into his cheeks as he made his way to physics. Despite all of his personality flaws, the boy was handsome when he smiled.