Fic: Ephemera
Title: Ephemera
Author: wordplay
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3400ish
Warnings: A handful of OCs, mostly just Kurt and Blaine's friends at university. Mondo flangst.
Summary: Futurefic. The history (so far) of a relationship, as told in objects. Archivists describe ephemera as documents that are meant to be thrown away or discarded after a single use. Those who find them interesting are drawn to the way they can illuminate everyday living and the things that are usually implicitly understood by the people who produced and consumed them. Life is complicated, and cluttered, and these tiny bits of information are the things that bind us as we struggle to live together.
Author's Note: A couple of weeks ago I wrote Appropriate Visuals, which was really just some standalone porn that I wrote because I was a little bit bored. By the time I was finished with that story, though, I knew so much about this version of the boys that I just wanted to get some of it down so it wouldn't keep cluttering up my head. Much of the backstory here, then, won't be clear unless you've read that.
Email from Kurt to Blaine, 1:30 am, November 2 2012
I'm sorry I missed your call tonight. Our usual crowd from the floor went out to a club and I saw my phone light up but it was so loud in there and then Jared somehow landed drinks for all of us and it got a bit crazier after that. I know I said that taxis creeped me out - I still wish there was a way to sanitize the whole thing before I got in, because I have no idea how New York became a center for fashion when everything is just always so dirty - but I'm starting to see how useful they are. Everybody else went out to an afterhours party, but I was tired and cranky and a little tipsy, and they were starting to get handsy and it just seemed like a good idea to come home. Alone. I felt a little bad leaving Emily without a wingman for her panting over Jared, but if I'm going to have to put her back together tomorrow either way, I should probably get some rest.
It's hard to know how to talk about you to my friends here. Emily's roommate -- a talentless but otherwise startling copy of Rachel Berry, actually -- never freaking shuts up about her boyfriend at Stanford. It's sad, really - she's sad, and the whole thing is making Emily absolutely crazy - she ranted tonight after the third drink, and everybody laughed at how pathetic it is that this girl thinks she's going to end up with her high school boyfriend. I didn't say anything, but Emily met my eyes and I knew she felt bad, and I was so furiously glad about that. I don't want to be pathetic, and all things considered I should really be more compassionate to her roommate, but I'm not used to being the tragic alone figure, not anymore.
But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't acutely aware of just how close Thanksgiving is, and that I'm not looking forward to it like it's somehow going to make everything better. And here I thought that leaving Ohio was going to mean I didn't need saving anymore.
I must be a maudlin drunk, I really must, because sometimes I think that the problem is that I didn't leave Ohio - I took a part of it into me and will always love it. And I can't regret that, because I love you, but it also really pisses me off.
I'm going to stop here and press send, before I upset either of us any more. But I wanted you to know that I was thinking about you, and missing you.
Love you.
The second in a chronological list of five voicemails Kurt really wants to figure out how to keep forever
Timestamp: January 31 2013
"Heeeeeey, Blaine's cute ex! I'm talking fast before I decide not to do this - we're at this party and Blaine put down his phone on the kitchen counter and I snuck out the back door with it, and I swear I was only going to take some pictures of myself and, like, be stupid with it, but I think this is better, so I just have to be quiet. And talk fast. And you probably have no idea who I am, but I feel like I know a whole fuck of a lot about you.
So, story: for 3 weeks last semester I fooled around with Dustin almost every night, and it wasn't until after he suddenly disappeared on me that I found out, from a purity test we did as a floor-building exercise, of all things, that he's gay. Or bi, or whatever, but really mostly gay. Why are boys so stupid about this - is it that fucking hard to tell somebody you think you like boys? I like boys! I would totally understand! Anyway.
So after all that, I was kind of a mess because it was just a shitty thing to happen right at the end of your first semester of college, and I was so humiliated. We were in the same dorm, and I was pretty sure everybody was laughing at me for being so stupid. And then one day right before break I was moping into my Crunchberries, and Blaine came and sat with me, and we started talking. He said Dustin couldn't see it because he was too freaked out by his own drama, but he had seen that I was really hurt, and he wanted to tell me something that Dustin told him - that, in a weird way, I had really helped Dustin come out more to himself, because I was the perfect girl, and if he couldn't love me, he just wasn't going to fall in love with a girl. And, like, it's one thing to know you've turned your not-really-boyfriend off of women completely? But to know that you made him gay by the force of your awesome is kind of OK. Well. It's better, anyway.
And I wanted you to know that Blaine did that for me, that he helped me be OK, because it was really nice and now we're friends - he's so sweet, and he gives great hugs and sometimes his advice is sort of stupid, but he always means it so much that it's hard to care. And he's super cute, and I'm probably not telling you anything new when I tell you that he has a great butt. What you don't know is that right now, he's in that party getting his face eaten by some douchebag from the business school. And this guy was way into him, and all night I've been all get it, Blaine! but mostly he's just been... I don't know. It's like he's not really feeling stuff right now, I think.
So. Anyway. My point... I don't know, I'm so drunk. God, it's cold out here. I... my point is that he loves you, and you're making him sad, and I don't know if you should get back together or not, but he really deserves for somebody to make him happy. And I've seen your pictures and you're soooo cute together, and the way he looks when he talks about you, and even if it's really hard, just - he doesn't seem happier now, is all I'm saying. But you're not answering your phone, so... oh, fuck, what if YOU'RE out with somebody else?
<4 seconds of silence, punctuated by a sigh.> What the fuck, Blaine is going to kill me. "
What Kurt kept in his gorgeous purple leather Filofax for that semester that he insisted on using it before he gave up and just went back to scheduling everything on his phone
Selections from the text messages between Kurt and Blaine from the summer of 2013
June 15
To: Blaine
I forgot to take your flight notification off my Outlook. Hope you finished up the semester okay.
To: Kurt
Everything was fine, yeah. Make it home in one piece, then?
To: Blaine
Yeah, no problems here. Have a good summer!
To: Kurt
You too! Welcome back to Ohio.
To: Blaine
Thanks a lot.
June 17
To: Kurt
I think you took that the wrong way.
To: Blaine
Probably. It's not a problem.
To: Kurt
Still. I'm sorry
To: Blaine
Forget about it
June 19
To: Blaine
I'm going to be in Columbus on Saturday. Would it be too weird to get coffee?
To: Kurt
Oh, probably. Let's do it anyway. Name the time and place.
To: Blaine
Usual spot, 7:30?.
To: Kurt
Looking forward to it
June 22
To: Kurt
That was good, I'm glad we did that
To: Blaine
Me too.
To: Blaine
God, we're so fucking mature.
To: Kurt
All of this has to be good for something.
June 23
To: Kurt
Columbus Summer Theatre is doing a production of Wicked. Should be hilarious. Want to go?
June 25
To: Kurt
Haven't heard from you. Bad idea?
To: Blaine
Haven't decided yet.
To: Blaine
Oh, it's fine. And I really could use a laugh; this town seems worse than ever. This weekend?
To: Kurt
I'll email you the details.
July 1
To: Kurt
Playlist hit 'Defying Gravity' and I couldn't stop laughing. If a part ever calls on me for a look of horror, I now have the perfect reference.
To: Blaine
It wasn't my fault! Some things continue to be wrong.
To: Kurt
Fair enough.
July 5
To: Kurt
I have an errand in Dayton on Tuesday. Can you get away from your dad's shop for dinner?
To: Blaine
True story: I'm going to be down there anyway to pick up parts. Perfect. Email with the details.
July 10
To: Kurt
The same theatre company is doing Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf in OSU's big theatre. Attendance: MANDATORY.
To: Blaine
Jesus. This time can you at least get me drunk before we go?
To: Kurt
No promises, but I think we could manage a glass of wine after. Tomorrow night possible?
July 11
To: Blaine
Where the hell are you? I've been sitting by this fountain for 15 minutes.
To: Kurt
Parking
To: Blaine
How hard is it to park a car on a college campus at night in *JULY*?
To: Kurt
I'm walking over now. Jesus, you're impatient!
July 12
To: Kurt
I kind of still can't believe last night was real.
To: Blaine
Believe it: these pants will never be the same.
To: Blaine
For that matter, neither will I. Find your phone - I'm about to call.
The third in the chronological list of five voicemails Kurt really wants to figure out how to keep forever, and the only one that is in no way from Blaine.
Timestamp: October 13, 2013
"Hey, Kurt, it's Mallory. I stole your number off of Blaine's phone because he's still a nightmare about leaving it everywhere. And I wanted to say: thank you. Thanks for making him smile and all that, but mostly thank you for saving my ass instead of throwing it under the bus and never telling him about that phone call. To be honest, until I got your post-it note this morning, I wasn't even sure if I had actually made that phone call or just got really confused and thought I had - that night ended sort of weird, because Dustin showed up and, just -. Anyway. So, yes, to answer your question: he does seem happier now, and I'm glad to know that you're well aware of the shape of his ass. For what it's worth, though, yours isn't half-bad, either. I think I'm coming to Ohio with Blaine for Thanksgiving, so I'm sure I'll see you then. It was good to meet you, finally."
A list of things on Mallory, Dustin & Blaine's refrigerator, as held on by magnetic snippets of incredibly bad poetry, men in pornographic poses, and pizza delivery advertisements, circa May 2014
Email, from Blaine to Kurt, 11:37 pm on a Tuesday in late October 2015
I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn't even feel it. And yet I believe you'll be sensible of a little gap. But you'd clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan't make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this -- But oh my dear, I can't be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don't love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don't really resent it.
Just a little snippet from my queerlit seminar reading. Vita Sackville-West wrote this to Virginia Woolf during the course of their affair; she was on a train through Italy, and Virginia was in London.
Squealing, maybe just a little bit,
- B
The bits of paper that Kurt cleans out of the bottom of his bag after senior spring break, April 2016
The things Kurt would roll his eyes over if he ever forced Blaine to clean out his wallet, August 2016
Author: wordplay
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3400ish
Warnings: A handful of OCs, mostly just Kurt and Blaine's friends at university. Mondo flangst.
Summary: Futurefic. The history (so far) of a relationship, as told in objects. Archivists describe ephemera as documents that are meant to be thrown away or discarded after a single use. Those who find them interesting are drawn to the way they can illuminate everyday living and the things that are usually implicitly understood by the people who produced and consumed them. Life is complicated, and cluttered, and these tiny bits of information are the things that bind us as we struggle to live together.
Author's Note: A couple of weeks ago I wrote Appropriate Visuals, which was really just some standalone porn that I wrote because I was a little bit bored. By the time I was finished with that story, though, I knew so much about this version of the boys that I just wanted to get some of it down so it wouldn't keep cluttering up my head. Much of the backstory here, then, won't be clear unless you've read that.
Email from Kurt to Blaine, 1:30 am, November 2 2012
I'm sorry I missed your call tonight. Our usual crowd from the floor went out to a club and I saw my phone light up but it was so loud in there and then Jared somehow landed drinks for all of us and it got a bit crazier after that. I know I said that taxis creeped me out - I still wish there was a way to sanitize the whole thing before I got in, because I have no idea how New York became a center for fashion when everything is just always so dirty - but I'm starting to see how useful they are. Everybody else went out to an afterhours party, but I was tired and cranky and a little tipsy, and they were starting to get handsy and it just seemed like a good idea to come home. Alone. I felt a little bad leaving Emily without a wingman for her panting over Jared, but if I'm going to have to put her back together tomorrow either way, I should probably get some rest.
It's hard to know how to talk about you to my friends here. Emily's roommate -- a talentless but otherwise startling copy of Rachel Berry, actually -- never freaking shuts up about her boyfriend at Stanford. It's sad, really - she's sad, and the whole thing is making Emily absolutely crazy - she ranted tonight after the third drink, and everybody laughed at how pathetic it is that this girl thinks she's going to end up with her high school boyfriend. I didn't say anything, but Emily met my eyes and I knew she felt bad, and I was so furiously glad about that. I don't want to be pathetic, and all things considered I should really be more compassionate to her roommate, but I'm not used to being the tragic alone figure, not anymore.
But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't acutely aware of just how close Thanksgiving is, and that I'm not looking forward to it like it's somehow going to make everything better. And here I thought that leaving Ohio was going to mean I didn't need saving anymore.
I must be a maudlin drunk, I really must, because sometimes I think that the problem is that I didn't leave Ohio - I took a part of it into me and will always love it. And I can't regret that, because I love you, but it also really pisses me off.
I'm going to stop here and press send, before I upset either of us any more. But I wanted you to know that I was thinking about you, and missing you.
Love you.
The second in a chronological list of five voicemails Kurt really wants to figure out how to keep forever
Timestamp: January 31 2013
"Heeeeeey, Blaine's cute ex! I'm talking fast before I decide not to do this - we're at this party and Blaine put down his phone on the kitchen counter and I snuck out the back door with it, and I swear I was only going to take some pictures of myself and, like, be stupid with it, but I think this is better, so I just have to be quiet. And talk fast. And you probably have no idea who I am, but I feel like I know a whole fuck of a lot about you.
So, story: for 3 weeks last semester I fooled around with Dustin almost every night, and it wasn't until after he suddenly disappeared on me that I found out, from a purity test we did as a floor-building exercise, of all things, that he's gay. Or bi, or whatever, but really mostly gay. Why are boys so stupid about this - is it that fucking hard to tell somebody you think you like boys? I like boys! I would totally understand! Anyway.
So after all that, I was kind of a mess because it was just a shitty thing to happen right at the end of your first semester of college, and I was so humiliated. We were in the same dorm, and I was pretty sure everybody was laughing at me for being so stupid. And then one day right before break I was moping into my Crunchberries, and Blaine came and sat with me, and we started talking. He said Dustin couldn't see it because he was too freaked out by his own drama, but he had seen that I was really hurt, and he wanted to tell me something that Dustin told him - that, in a weird way, I had really helped Dustin come out more to himself, because I was the perfect girl, and if he couldn't love me, he just wasn't going to fall in love with a girl. And, like, it's one thing to know you've turned your not-really-boyfriend off of women completely? But to know that you made him gay by the force of your awesome is kind of OK. Well. It's better, anyway.
And I wanted you to know that Blaine did that for me, that he helped me be OK, because it was really nice and now we're friends - he's so sweet, and he gives great hugs and sometimes his advice is sort of stupid, but he always means it so much that it's hard to care. And he's super cute, and I'm probably not telling you anything new when I tell you that he has a great butt. What you don't know is that right now, he's in that party getting his face eaten by some douchebag from the business school. And this guy was way into him, and all night I've been all get it, Blaine! but mostly he's just been... I don't know. It's like he's not really feeling stuff right now, I think.
So. Anyway. My point... I don't know, I'm so drunk. God, it's cold out here. I... my point is that he loves you, and you're making him sad, and I don't know if you should get back together or not, but he really deserves for somebody to make him happy. And I've seen your pictures and you're soooo cute together, and the way he looks when he talks about you, and even if it's really hard, just - he doesn't seem happier now, is all I'm saying. But you're not answering your phone, so... oh, fuck, what if YOU'RE out with somebody else?
<4 seconds of silence, punctuated by a sigh.> What the fuck, Blaine is going to kill me. "
What Kurt kept in his gorgeous purple leather Filofax for that semester that he insisted on using it before he gave up and just went back to scheduling everything on his phone
- A calendar of 2013, with a day halfway through May precisely circled in red. Neatly written in that square: JFK to DAY. In the days before it, there's contact information listed for truck and storage unit rental.
- A schedule of his classes at NYU
- A schedule for exhibitions at Pratt
- A schedule of performances at Julliard and Lincoln Center
- A printed inventory of his closet, and a complimentary copy of his fashion wish list
- A scantily filled out address book. In addition to Ohio friends and school friends and family, there are a good number of boys listed only by first names for whom he's written down either a phone number or an email address, but never both.
- Postcards from LA from Mercedes, and postcards he wants to send her, and an envelope of postcard stamps.
- A slim packet of post-it notes. The indentation left by the previous note reads, "E - Came by to say hi - come find me in the library when you want dinner. Left my phone at home. -KEH"
- A list of reasons why they broke up, with a ruler marking its place. The list starts with "because loving him and being away from him really fucking hurts". It's the only item on the list that isn't crossed out at least once.
Selections from the text messages between Kurt and Blaine from the summer of 2013
June 15
To: Blaine
I forgot to take your flight notification off my Outlook. Hope you finished up the semester okay.
To: Kurt
Everything was fine, yeah. Make it home in one piece, then?
To: Blaine
Yeah, no problems here. Have a good summer!
To: Kurt
You too! Welcome back to Ohio.
To: Blaine
Thanks a lot.
June 17
To: Kurt
I think you took that the wrong way.
To: Blaine
Probably. It's not a problem.
To: Kurt
Still. I'm sorry
To: Blaine
Forget about it
June 19
To: Blaine
I'm going to be in Columbus on Saturday. Would it be too weird to get coffee?
To: Kurt
Oh, probably. Let's do it anyway. Name the time and place.
To: Blaine
Usual spot, 7:30?.
To: Kurt
Looking forward to it
June 22
To: Kurt
That was good, I'm glad we did that
To: Blaine
Me too.
To: Blaine
God, we're so fucking mature.
To: Kurt
All of this has to be good for something.
June 23
To: Kurt
Columbus Summer Theatre is doing a production of Wicked. Should be hilarious. Want to go?
June 25
To: Kurt
Haven't heard from you. Bad idea?
To: Blaine
Haven't decided yet.
To: Blaine
Oh, it's fine. And I really could use a laugh; this town seems worse than ever. This weekend?
To: Kurt
I'll email you the details.
July 1
To: Kurt
Playlist hit 'Defying Gravity' and I couldn't stop laughing. If a part ever calls on me for a look of horror, I now have the perfect reference.
To: Blaine
It wasn't my fault! Some things continue to be wrong.
To: Kurt
Fair enough.
July 5
To: Kurt
I have an errand in Dayton on Tuesday. Can you get away from your dad's shop for dinner?
To: Blaine
True story: I'm going to be down there anyway to pick up parts. Perfect. Email with the details.
July 10
To: Kurt
The same theatre company is doing Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf in OSU's big theatre. Attendance: MANDATORY.
To: Blaine
Jesus. This time can you at least get me drunk before we go?
To: Kurt
No promises, but I think we could manage a glass of wine after. Tomorrow night possible?
July 11
To: Blaine
Where the hell are you? I've been sitting by this fountain for 15 minutes.
To: Kurt
Parking
To: Blaine
How hard is it to park a car on a college campus at night in *JULY*?
To: Kurt
I'm walking over now. Jesus, you're impatient!
July 12
To: Kurt
I kind of still can't believe last night was real.
To: Blaine
Believe it: these pants will never be the same.
To: Blaine
For that matter, neither will I. Find your phone - I'm about to call.
The third in the chronological list of five voicemails Kurt really wants to figure out how to keep forever, and the only one that is in no way from Blaine.
Timestamp: October 13, 2013
"Hey, Kurt, it's Mallory. I stole your number off of Blaine's phone because he's still a nightmare about leaving it everywhere. And I wanted to say: thank you. Thanks for making him smile and all that, but mostly thank you for saving my ass instead of throwing it under the bus and never telling him about that phone call. To be honest, until I got your post-it note this morning, I wasn't even sure if I had actually made that phone call or just got really confused and thought I had - that night ended sort of weird, because Dustin showed up and, just -. Anyway. So, yes, to answer your question: he does seem happier now, and I'm glad to know that you're well aware of the shape of his ass. For what it's worth, though, yours isn't half-bad, either. I think I'm coming to Ohio with Blaine for Thanksgiving, so I'm sure I'll see you then. It was good to meet you, finally."
A list of things on Mallory, Dustin & Blaine's refrigerator, as held on by magnetic snippets of incredibly bad poetry, men in pornographic poses, and pizza delivery advertisements, circa May 2014
- A cooking and cleaning schedule. Dustin's days have big handdrawn stars beside them, and then are highlighted in pink.
- A heavily edited list of important phone numbers. Mixed in with the parents and the bookstore and their favorite bar and the advisors and the directors are a few special ones: Kurt's is at the top, Mallory's Michael is halfway down, and starting at the top and working all the way down is a long and pathetic list of Dustin's exes, mostly boys' names scratched out (with some force, it seems, from the way the paper is torn) but with an "Ashley" and a "Jennifer" for variety. Lots of visitors are in and out of their kitchen, but they don't talk about why the list is such a godawful mess.
- A photo of the three of them from the spring of their freshman year, a bit curled at the edges and splashed on one corner with something orange. Mallory was the drunkest of the three, draped over Blaine, who was a little disheveled and smiling at the camera a bit warily. Dustin is on Blaine's other side, his arm draped easily over Blaine's shoulders. To one side is a blond guy with a popped collar, glaring at Dustin. The tiniest corner of Blaine's old phone is visible at the top of the pocket of Mallory's jeans.
- The program from Waa-Mu musical revue, a THUNK! acapella practice schedule, and last season's Northwestern University football schedule, decorated liberally with "fuck the Illini!" and "fuck Wisconsin!" in Mallory's looping script
Email, from Blaine to Kurt, 11:37 pm on a Tuesday in late October 2015
I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn't even feel it. And yet I believe you'll be sensible of a little gap. But you'd clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan't make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this -- But oh my dear, I can't be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don't love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don't really resent it.
Just a little snippet from my queerlit seminar reading. Vita Sackville-West wrote this to Virginia Woolf during the course of their affair; she was on a train through Italy, and Virginia was in London.
Squealing, maybe just a little bit,
- B
The bits of paper that Kurt cleans out of the bottom of his bag after senior spring break, April 2016
- A pile of boarding passes - JFK - ORD, ORD - SFO, SFO - LAX
- A book of rental properties in Palo Alto. The apartments with good access to the law school and close to a Caltrain stop are marked with tape flags.
- The welcome packet from Stanford Law School that he puts in a pile to mail back to Blaine.
- A bulging file folder from the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco with notes on upcoming shows and their expectations for his (paid!) internship.
- A strip of photograph stickers: him, Blaine, Mercedes and her boy-of-the-minute James in ridiculous poses - his favorite is the one of him and Mercedes re-Vogueing it up. They still look fierce.
- A postcard he's brought back for Leah of a painting they'd seen at the Getty, because it reminded him of her work.
- A note from Blaine on hotel stationery: "Almost there, baby. I'll see you at graduation!"
The things Kurt would roll his eyes over if he ever forced Blaine to clean out his wallet, August 2016
- A list of phone numbers in case he loses his phone again.
- A huge stash of In-n-Out Burger receipts, all paid in cash because it completely grosses Kurt out, but Blaine has already secretly become addicted to Animal Style.
- The tag Kurt had taped to his Christmas gift, the gift he'd received two weeks before they tearfully and mournfully broke up over their freshman year. It said, in Kurt's neat script: "Merry Christmas. I will always love you. Always."