Fic: Mad World, Chapter 10 (Part 2)
Ida stared, frozen, as Karofsky, who was standing a bare two feet away from Kurt, spoke urgently, "And if I'd known what he was planning, I swear to God, Kurt, I would have done something. Stopped him before it got that far."
Kurt was staring up at him, pressed back into a wall, holding the straps of his messenger bag so tightly the whites of knuckles were prominently on display. "Fine, you didn't have a hand in gay bashing me. Congratulations, you are clearly evolving, albeit minutely. I had figured that much out on my own. Your particular brand of self-loathing would likely involve a different kind of violence, one I sincerely hope you'll seek help for before it happens."
Karofsky flinched. "I wouldn't ever . . . I would never hurt you like that, if that's what you're . . . I'm not a monster."
"I'm not talking about hurting me," Kurt breathed out, his eyes wide, but not so much afraid - or at least not only afraid - but a little sad, maybe? "Or anyone else. Dave, you need to talk to someone about this."
There was a silence, and Ida didn't dare move, didn't want to draw attention and break the fragile balance between the two of them, but at the same time, her throat was seizing up - a yell for help was caught in there, waiting to be set free at the slightest sign of trouble.
Karofsky raised a shaking hand to his face, pressing against his eyes for a few seconds before dropping down to hover at chest level. "I can't even think it. It's not real if I can't think it. If I can't say it."
"But you didn't have to - you acted on it," Kurt's voice hitched. "It's a part of you and it won't go away. You can either fight it and destroy yourself in the process, or you can accept it and get on with your life. You don't have to do it today, or next year, but at least admit it to yourself."
Dave laughed humourlessly, a ripped up sound, wet and raspy. Ida watched him and for the first time, she felt sorry for him. Based on what she was hearing, the bully before her was dealing with some serious questions about his sexuality and that explained - though it didn't excuse - a lot of his behaviour toward Kurt. It also set a lot their interactions in a really unsettling light and Ida was preparing to announce her presence, but Karofsky's laugh ended abruptly with this tentative, hopeful glance at Kurt that had Ida holding her breath.
"If I do this, at some point, not right now but . . . later, much later," Karofsky spoke haltingly, not looking at Kurt, chewing on his lips between words. "Could I . . . could I . . . talk to you, maybe . . . about . . . stuff?"
Kurt's eyes were searching his face - whatever he saw had him relaxing a little and pushing away from the wall. "You can't ask me that. Not now. I'm not, I'm not capable of it. In a few months, there might be a chance that we can talk, but I can't promise it. There are other people around, a few people who are like us that you can talk to, that won't judge. You know there are places you can call, websites you can look up. Do that in the meantime."
Dave looked up again, and his face was completely unguarded - he was afraid, he was ashamed, he was looking at Kurt like . . . Ida's epiphany had her hand coming up to smother a gasp. Oh. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what happened in that locker room."
And somehow Ida knew he wasn't talking about Azimio.
Kurt's breathing went uneven and his fingers tightened around his bag straps again. "Okay."
"It won't happen again. I don't just mean to you, I . . . it was stupid . . . You didn't want it, and I didn't want to do it like that, it's just, you've always been . . ." He hung his head, and what came next was a whisper; Ida had to strain her ears to hear it. "You're . . . something else, you know that? And it isn't just that you're . . . good-looking. I'm sorry, I know this makes me a creep. But you're leaving so . . . there it is."
The silence stretched between them. Ida felt several more pieces locking into place: Puck knew what had happened between Kurt and Karofsky, whatever that had been, and he'd been protecting Kurt from him, threatening Karofsky with outing him - she wasn't sure what to feel about that. Kurt's reluctance to press any charges against Dave made more sense too, and Ida's own ire towards the bully was significantly lessened, though it was not completely gone.
"I hope it gets better for you, Dave, I really do," Kurt finally said, quiet and sincere. He looked over to the side, caught Ida's gaze, and stared in surprise. Dave didn't see her yet, and he wouldn't, it seemed, because he was turning, his back to her, to leave. He took a step, then paused, half-turning to face Kurt again.
"It's good, that you're leaving. You deserve better than this place."
He walked away, rounding a corner. She and Kurt both watched him disappear before facing each other. She waited until Karofsky's footsteps had faded and then stepped in closer.
"You didn't call for help this time," he said, his hands coming up to his perfectly hair-sprayed locks - his fingers were trembling.
"You seemed like you had it under control. I didn't want to surprise him, make him angry," she said softly. "Are you okay?"
Kurt stared at his shaking hands for a moment. Then he shook his head, clenching them into fists, loosening them after a moment, and repeating the process a few times while smiling crookedly at her. "For now, I guess. It was good, to get that . . . out there. Helps with what I want to do."
She waited for an explanation, but Kurt only tilted his head towards the auditorium. She followed him in, and he walked with purpose towards the stage, heading for the piano. He dropped his bag onto it, opening it and pulling out a CD. It flashed in the minimal stage lighting. He put it down and breathed in and out for several moments.
Her heart kept stuttering away in her chest. She was grateful for the silence in the auditorium; she didn't think she could handle any sharp, sudden noises right now.
Kurt didn't say anything, just slid himself up onto the piano, sitting there with his legs swinging slightly. Ida put her bag down and followed; she sat next to him, not sure where to put her hands, and eventually settled for bracing them on the piano edge, on either side of her thighs. Kurt studied his boot-clad feet, barely blinking.
"This isn't how I pictured getting an opportunity for a big solo debut," he said finally. "I've fought for the spotlight like no one's business, but if I had known that this was how it would happen, I would've been content to sway in the background. If I'd been smart enough to stick to the periphery, none of this would have happened."
Ida had lived on the periphery all her life. Always quiet, always willing to let others be in front, blocking her view - blending in, turning away, mouth shut. Eventually she forgot the sound of her own raised voice. She never really got to know how it felt to share smiles with people who really knew her, or laughter over inside jokes. Ida only had experience with never having anyone acknowledge she was there, that she existed, that maybe she could be someone that they would find worth their while to get to know.
She inched her hand a little closer to Kurt's leg while he gathered his thoughts again. He was quiet, so quiet, when he spoke next, "It won't fix what's happened, and I don't . . . think I can do it anymore. I think I've used up what inner strength I had. Eventually you get tired - and I'm exhausted, Ida. What am I even doing here?"
Ida exhaled slowly. She wasn't entirely sure what Kurt's plan was, but if he was here, in the auditorium, she could make a reasonable guess. "I think you want to prove to yourself that you can still do this. That there was something that they couldn't take away from you."
"It's the plot of an after-school special and the B-plot at that." He glanced down at Ida's hands as they curled over the lip of the piano lid. "We're not supposed to question the lesson, are we? We're just supposed to learn it and move on."
"But you're more than a badly-acted, cliché 'very special episode'," Ida burst out, completely blindsided by her own frustration and the sudden need to say everything that was on her mind. "And the moral so far - if there even is one - is that bad things happen because people are stupid or evil or caught up in their own pain, and we can't do anything other than survive it. Because, well, what else is there? I'm not leaving my mom, you're not leaving your dad, so we'll both deal and I don't know what good or bad will come of it, but there it is." She echoed Karofsky's words without realizing it at first, but when she did, she just sighed heavily and shrugged, feeling her cheeks flame. She didn't think she'd ever spoken that much, that honestly, to anyone who wasn't her mother.
Kurt was watching her with those incredible eyes of his, but she couldn't read them, didn't want to know what he was thinking. "That was . . . surprisingly helpful. Thank you, Ida. I'm glad it was you that walked into that locker room."
"I . . . you're welcome?" He laughed good-naturedly at her uncertainty, and that gave her another burst of courage. Kurt was her friend now, damn it.
"Since I'm on a roll - I think that everyone trying to get you involved in work, or volunteering, or designing portfolios - they mean well, but that's not what you need. I think you need to do this." She waved her hands to encompass the stage.
"And I think you need to get better, get back into the world, on your own terms. You've had too many decisions taken from you - things have been happening to you and instead you need to make things happen for you, which sounds like some very lame and cheesy self-help shtick, but it's . . . you've had people pushing their thoughts and ideas and feelings on you." She flinched as she thought of Dave. "For once, you should just take what you're feeling and thinking, and push it on everyone else. Make them understand where you're coming from." She had no clue if she was making sense, but she didn't care - she had expressed an opinion, to someone who might actually take it into account, and that felt awesome.
She wasn't expecting to get hugged for it, but Kurt's arms were around her shoulders before she had time to adjust, and she almost slid off the piano as she jumped at the sudden contact. He didn't say anything, and he didn't have to. She was good with silences.
He did ask her to send a text to everyone, asking them to come to the auditorium. He disappeared with his CD as she sent off the message. Within two minutes, the Glee club was pouring in, along with the Hudson-Hummels, Rachel's dads (Ida hadn't even known they were coming), Blaine, Mr. Schuester, Miss Pillsbury, and Ida was pretty sure she saw Coach Sylvester slink into the back, hiding in the shadows. She had no idea how they had managed to leave that assembly without making a scene, but when no one else tumbled in after them, she decided it wasn't important.
They rushed in, chattering and eager for a glimpse of Kurt, and he reappeared, meeting them half way up the aisle. He accepted a few hugs and then, with that same quiet voice, told them, "Okay, so, I suppose explanations are due."
This silenced any remaining conversations and everyone was silent and attentive. A few of them even took seats - Mercedes, Blaine, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury. Ida took the empty seat in-between Mercedes and Blaine.
Kurt stood in front of them all, and Ida could see, faintly, the line across his forehead that had been a cut, stitches removed a while ago. She knew, after everything Kurt had been through in this short while, that having so many eyes on him, even just those of his friends and family and teachers, had to be pushing him to flee, but he didn't show it at all. He just stood there, staring around at them.
"Kurt," his dad spoke up. "You don't have to -"
"Yes, yes I do." He took a deep breath, exhaled, took in another breath and started speaking, slow and measured. "You all know that I'm leaving, because my dad doesn't feel that I'm safe here. I suppose that's become true. But I think, that if it was up to me . . . I wouldn't leave," he said truthfully, and Ida felt Blaine jerk up in his seat at Kurt's confession. "You're all my closest and best friends." He smiled at Mercedes, who grinned back. "We have one of the best Glee clubs out there, and it's what gave me the strength to keep going when things started getting pretty close to unbearable. Every time I was in that choir room, I could sing and diva out, or even rock out, though that's not necessarily my taste. I'm going to miss that - miss seeing you guys - while I'm away."
He swallowed, looking down at his feet, and when he looked up again, Ida inhaled sharply, pleasantly surprised, because this was more familiar, that look of proud defiance. "But despite everything, good and bad, that's happened here, I'm still me. No one's taken that from me, and no one ever will. That's one thing I'm proud to have," he said with a touch of arrogance. "I have never been ashamed - never been afraid - of showing off or being fabulous, and you all know it."
He took in a breath here, trying to keep his voice steady, but Ida could see a fine tremble in his fingers, because she was looking for it. She tried to send some courage his way with as reassuring a look as she could muster.
"I'm singing for myself right now, and I'm just going to sing the truth. I hope that somehow, you all understand that I'm not leaving because someone hurt me enough to force me to run." Kurt blinked rapidly and his hands flexed uselessly at his sides; Mercedes flinched, Burt swallowed loudly, and Ida saw Puck and Finn exchange looks, jaws clenched. Mr. Schuester was shifting in his seat, regret lining his features. Kurt took another pair of deep breaths before speaking again, "I'm leaving because my father deserves better than being afraid for his son every day I leave for school, and because, quite frankly, they don't deserve to have such fabulousness in their midst here." He finished with a slightly crooked grin, and Tina giggled a little at that. Kurt's smile broadened.
"I wanted to share this with all of you, and, well, make it a goodbye of sorts too, since I am leaving for an indeterminate amount of time." Ida wondered at that - Mr. Hummel seemed adamant about not letting Kurt back into McKinley ever again, but maybe that wasn't feasible. Her mom would transfer her to that private all-girl school if she could, but there was no way they could afford even a semester at that place. The Hummels were slightly better off, but even for them, Dalton was going to be very expensive.
"Could somebody help cue up the music for me?" Kurt asked.
Sam jumped up. "Got it, dude, you do whatever you need to."
Mike stood up as well. "And I'll deal with the lighting - you deserve a spotlight."
Kurt smiled gratefully, and gave everyone else a brief nod before he turned to walk back down to the stage. At that point, the rest of the small crowd took seats in random spots in the auditorium, and Ida turned to see the shadowy form of Coach Sylvester standing in the very back. She was apparently shutting the door behind them, but not before a few more figures crept in - students, most likely, that Ida didn't recognize, but she trusted the terrifying cheerleading coach wouldn't have let them stay if they were trouble makers of any sort.
While she was watching, she saw Officer Henderson poke his head in, moving swiftly and silently down towards their seats.
All the lights dimmed even further than they had already and the lone spotlight flicked on, powerfully bright for a moment before dimming as well, albeit only slightly. Kurt hesitated for a split second before stepping into it, sliding a microphone stand along with him. He adjusted it to his height, letting his hands drop and turning his head to stare at Sam in the shadows. Some silent communication ensued, and after a minute, Kurt gave the smallest of nods.
The music cued up and Ida watched as Kurt took in a deep breath, letting the steady melody flow into him and loosen his limbs, but not his poise. The words were sung slowly, almost conversationally, but with a deep, thrumming power.
"I am what I am, I am my own special creation," he lifted his hands in supplication, "So come - take a look, give me the hook or the ovation." Ida had only ever heard Kurt in low quality YouTube videos - and that had still been impressive. Now, she was distantly aware of her mouth falling open, but the whole of her attention was on the lone singer on stage.
"It's my world that I want to take a little pride in. My world, and it's not a place I have to hide in." His voice was low, smooth and the purest mixture of pain and pride she'd ever heard.
"Life's not worth a damn, 'til you can say, 'Hey world, I am what I am'."
His voice was getting gravelly and much less honey sounding - but it was also picking up steam and still so, so potent and true. There were tears springing into Ida's eyes. Next to her, Blaine was absolutely silent and breathless. His hands were clutching at the armrests as he stared in wide-eyed shock at Kurt baring his soul. On her other side, Mercedes had a hand to her mouth, and the other reached for Ida's. Ida let her take it, and squeezed it tight in return.
"I am what I am, I don't want praise, I don't want pity. I bang my own drum - some think it's noise, I think it's pretty." He went up a bit there, a sweet smile on his face, but it dropped fairly quickly and the barely restrained anger was back.
"And so what, if I love each feather and each spangle - why not try to see things from a diff'rent angle? Your life is a sham 'til you can shout out loud - I am what I am!"
The song picked up speed here and Kurt exploded into motion; he grabbed the microphone, marching to the edge of the stage, glaring at everyone and no one, focusing on some empty chairs, and then up to the balcony, whereupon his clear eyes flashed and held there for a second. He belted out the last verse, practically shouting some of the words.
"I am what am - and what I am needs no excuses. I deal my own deck - sometimes the ace, sometimes the deuces. There's one life, and there's no return and no deposit; one life, so it's time to open up your closet. Life's not worth a damn, 'til you can say, 'Hey world, I am what I am!'"
He held that note on a yell until he couldn't anymore, and when he finished with a nearly inaudible gasp, it took Ida no time at all to shake off her shock and awe, though she was a second behind Burt Hummel, who was already whooping and clapping. She started applauding like a mad woman, jumping to her feet along with everyone else. Rachel was bouncing up and down as she cheered, and Ida spotted Officer Henderson clapping too, smiling broadly, and even putting two fingers in his mouth for a loud whistle. He was standing then, getting ready to leave, but he said something quick to Mr. Hummel, shaking his hand and Mrs. Hudson's, before exiting the auditorium through one of the lower side entrances, grin wide and eyes gleaming faintly. Kurt simply stood there, watching them all before putting the microphone down on the piano, and breaking into a beautiful smile.
Sam came running out of the wings to sweep Kurt up in an enthusiastic hug, and Mike was running down too, grinning widely and taking his turn. In no time at all, everyone was swarming the stage, and jabbering enthusiastically. Rachel was insisting it was, "Just as good as John Barrowman, and you almost touched George Hearn there in the end."
Ida glanced over to the back to see Sue Sylvester still seated, but with the lights darkened, she couldn't see the expression on her face. The students were standing, and the door was opening; Ida caught sight of a couple of girls, and a few boys, one of them was a football jock, she thought - Langster? Rosenthal? She wasn't sure about names, but there was no mistaking the gobsmacked looks on their faces. They were sneaking out quickly, and that reminded Ida of Kurt shooting an intense look upwards as he sang - she whipped her head up to the balcony, but no one was there, and there was no way to tell if anyone had been.
"Good grief, kiddo," Mr. Hummel was saying, wrapping his son up in a tight hug. "You are mind-blowing - I can't believe we're related."
Kurt laughed into his father's shoulder. "I can. It had to come from somewhere, dad. I've heard you sing in the shower, you're not half bad."
" 'Not half-bad' does not add up to being the star you are." His dad pulled back, cupping a large hand on one side of Kurt's neck. "I am so incredibly proud of you."
Mrs. Hudson took her turn, and Finn was next, just as excited as Mr. Hummel, and it seemed like ages passed before Ida managed to make it to the stage, just in time for Blaine to approach Kurt, wonder lingering in his wide eyes. Blaine walked to him, taking a hand, slow and careful, giving Kurt time to pull away. When he didn't, he grinned. "I should have known. I've seen some videos but they pale in comparison to this. You're pretty much already guaranteed a spot on the Warblers, but when we have solo auditions you're going to knock the council's socks off, Kurt, I know you are. I have some serious competition it seems."
"Hm, you best believe it, Anderson. I am all about knocking socks off - and I seem to have a head start with you," Kurt said with a raised eyebrow and a significant glance down. Ida followed his gaze and then held back a giggle at Blaine's ankle pants that revealed his sockless feet in a pair of brown leather loafers.
Blaine flushed but seemed to stand a little straighter. "Hey, you like your boots up to the knee, I hate to wear socks, and we each pick our fashions accordingly."
Kurt raised his free hand in a placating gesture. "No worries, Blaine. There may be a Vogue session in your future, fair warning, but I won't argue the fact that it does rather suit you."
"Well, is that a stamp of approval from Kurt Hummel?" Blaine asked, fingers curling a little tighter around Kurt's.
"It's an 'it'll do for now' note in your docket," Kurt conceded, finally dropping his hand and turning to Ida.
She didn't allow herself any second guessing - she just raised her arms and was thrilled beyond belief when Kurt took the extra step for her, coming to wrap her up in a hug. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear. "For everything, Ida, for absolutely everything."
Ida couldn't think of anything to say to that, but somehow the words were falling from her mouth regardless, "Kurt, no, thank you. For everything you were before this and everything you're going to be from now on. Thank you."
She had no clue, once again, if what she said made any sense, but Kurt was clutching her tightly and she was laughing a little breathlessly, and then he was stepping back, wiping discretely under his eyes, turning around to proclaim a need for some food that wasn't Breadstix. Santana immediately started complaining that there wasn't anything better, and Miss Pillsbury mentioned a small Thai place that she knew of that was recently inspected and passed with flying colours - something she could personally attest to, as she hadn't felt the need to bring her own cutlery to the place. Quinn voiced her own fondness for Thai food and added, "Ida, you said that you liked it too, right?"
She had mentioned it, once, in a random comment on Facebook and it was like a blow to the solar plexus to realize that some had read that and remembered it.
And that cemented it all for her. She had friends. Good friends. That were hers. That listened to her, and liked her, and wanted to be around her. This wasn't temporary, this wasn't a fever dream, this wasn't pity, and this wasn't a mistake.
This was what it was, and she was finally, finally going to stop questioning or doubting it.
Puck was coming up behind her, clapping her on the back, announcing that it should be Kurt's pick as to where they ate. Mercedes was clasping Ida's arm at the same time she was reaching for Kurt's hand.
"Well, Thai gets my vote," Ida said firmly, without any shyness whatsoever. "My mom's on lunch break soon, and I think that place is pretty close to her office."
Kurt nodded. "Well, that sounds good to me. To the cars!"
"Shotgun with Kurt!" Ida called, grinning madly as Mercedes smacked her and demanded control of the music if Ida was claiming the prized passenger seat. Rachel insisted that she be allowed in the SUV as well, and similar arguments ensued as everyone tumbled into different vehicles.
Somehow, they ended up blasting music (Kurt was blaring some Queen from his truly impressive speakers, Ida cheering as he and Blaine hit those high notes along with Freddie Mercury), while over with Brittany, Santana, Puck, Sam and Quinn, they had some Rolling Stones going on, Jumpin' Jack Flash nearly overwhelming them. Mike, Tina, Artie and Finn pulled out in front, belting out Highway to Hell. The adults were beeping warnings from behind as they tangoed with the speed limit, and Kurt waved a hand out to his dad from his open window, grinning widely as the wind ruffled his hair.
The song switched tracks and suddenly all the teens in the SUV, including Ida, were laughing and pointedly serenading Kurt, who took it in stride, beaming from the driver's seat. Everyone in Quinn's car and Mike's vehicle turned down their music to sing along too as they pulled up to a red light.
"Caviar and cigarettes, well versed in etiquette, extraordinarily nice," Blaine leaned over from his middle seat in the back, nudging Kurt gently.
Every Glee member, including Ida in her own off-key warble, joined in, "She's a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam, guaranteed to blow your mind, anytime."
Suddenly, Ida was singing alone with distant accompaniment from the other cars full of teenagers, "Recommended at the price, insatiable in appetite, wanna try?"
Her voice was that of the tone-deaf, and sounded especially weak in comparison to those of the insanely talented Glee clubbers around her, but there wasn't any wincing or false smiling sent her way - just more laughter and more singing along.
Rachel gave her an exaggerated, awed look as she leaned up to put her hands on Kurt's shoulders from her seat directly behind him. "Perfume came naturally from Paris, for cars she couldn't care less, fastidious and precise."
She didn't think people broke into song like this in real life, but they'd been telling her for weeks now that this was their way of communicating, of celebrating and mourning. Ida had seen it with Kurt on stage as he poured every ounce of pride, shame and hurt into his voice, and now everyone else was laughing, naming Kurt dynamite with a laser beam with all their love and joy for him. The fact that she suspected that the song was about a high-priced call-girl made her beam all the wider, because if there was anything New Directions had taught her, it was that the inappropriate could be hilarious and song lyrics meant whatever you wanted them to.
It was magical and strange and she didn't think it could last forever, but the bonds between these people, they were real, honest, complicated and holding fast.
And now Ida was tangled up in them.
She waved a cheerful good-bye to her days as the invisible wallflower and rolled down her window to shamelessly scandalize Lima with her teenage antics and terrible voice, grinning ecstatically at Mike from her side of the car, and exchanging finger guns with Puck out of Kurt's window.
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Fin
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
Author's Note: First off, disclaimer on the two songs used in this chapter, which are clearly not mine: I Am What I Am comes from the musical Les Cages Aux Folles, and if you want to hear it in its entirety, you can check out these two videos of the George Hearn (original cast) version (which I highly recommend!) or this one of the John Barrowman version on YouTube (also great!). Killer Queen belongs to Queen, and Freddie Mercury owns all of rock-dom, according to me.
I've had the part with Kurt singing in the auditorium written for almost three years, and I'm kind of shocked Glee hasn't had Kurt sing I Am What I Am in the meantime.
Now, I'm obviously a terrible person who doesn't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyways. There is still an epilogue coming, and I promise to get that up as soon as possible. I have finally finished with school (or at least with my BA), and shall hopefully now have a heck of a lot more time to finish this!
If you're still reading, I adore you. If you're bookmarking this or adding it to you memories, I adore you that much more. And naturally, all you lovely commentators have my undying devotion and gratitude. But really, all of you readers are amazing and thank you so, so much for putting up with my perpetual tardiness. *hugs*
Ella Greggs and vcg73 gave me a lot of great ideas in terms of lawsuits and consequences for the board and teachers, so much love and thanks to them for that help! Truthfully, I've had many helpful suggestions throughout the course of this story, so I send out a blanket 'thank you' to all of you!
Next and Last: Epilogue