This is hugely inspired by "Sick Cycle Carousel" & I actually wrote a bit of this in another fanfic, so I just stole that. Finally. Glee angst meme prompt!


He's eight when he understands it's a cycle.

The soil's messy, worms poking in from holes – hiding somewhere in the ground, screaming, screeching and he can feel them underneath his skin, slimy, smarmy and sycophantic moistness decorating fertile lands of infertile dreams.

His cousin grabs a handful of the soil no not his perfect polished Anna with the pretty little pearl earrings and shoves it into his mouth, and he can hear the birds chirping outside, harnessing the event with twinkling eyes, and thin beaks.

He can feel the hot-white worms in his mouth, raging for the entrance to his mouth. "That's the closest you'll ever get to anyone ever kissing you, Sebastian," Anna's voice is cold, clear-cut and it hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts so much. He's taught to be decent, so he runs home – it takes him six minutes and twenty-five seconds to drop to the ground and throw up the contents of his stomach, the worm pokes out from his lips, groveling, repulsive, revolting, in the toilet bowl and Sebastian straightens his unkempt hair. He's eight years old, and he learns how to not throw up in front of an audience.

The birds are still chirping outside, happy, ecstatic, twinkling, reveling in hot-white sunlight, and soft pastel blue colours. When his Mother comes home late at night, the birds are still singing as he witnesses her half-naked, bra unstrapped, underwear no-where to be found, body onto the ground, so he shuts the door as tightly as possible and lets a thin hand graze over towards the white dresser as he pulls out a pair of washed underwear and bra. The man's in the kitchen, reminding Sebastian that he's not lonely, but he's so alone on the inside, and the birds won't stop singing…

He strips back the strap on his Mother's back expertly, and runs a smooth line down her back in some sort of strange, odd comfort for himself, as he dresses up his woman with her underwear.

The man grabs Sebastian by his hand and he freezes, and then he just throws a box of a Barbie doll towards Sebastian. "Go undress your Barbie doll and a real man to play Barbie with your Mummy. I'm just helping her get dressed, see?" Sebastian doesn't leave, and doesn't make a movement to leave, as Sebastian's green eyes states that it's his authority and she's his Mother.

"You think you can hold on, can't you? Think you're strong but you're not. You don't even know the real world. All you know are dollhouses and dresses."

Sebastian's shoved backward, and then the man slides a hand down Sebastian's pants. Sebastian just nods his head towards him, face expressionless, as his eyes settle on his Mother. "What in hell's name are you? You're…trying to give yourself up for your Mother?" Sebastian just nods, and doesn't say a word. When the man undresses him, Sebastian lays on the ground, unsettled, oval face thin and pale, as the man shoves himself in and out of him, feeling the tightness of Sebastian, the eight year old boy that doesn't play with Barbie dolls. He's got a live-sized house. He should be happy that he's real mature.

The man leaves before dawn. Sebastian returns to his Mother after he promptly washes himself to be rid of the blood, doesn't even make a sound to show that he's in pain, as he finds his Mother's dress, and then spends a good twenty-six minutes and thirty-nine seconds struggling to get the dress to zip.

The birds chirp once more, one last time – lovebirds, Sebastian takes not of, and then looks back down at his Mother, tucking her dress up. When she wakes up, he paints her face with make-up, and pauses when she asks him to put on the pearl earrings on like Anna's pearl earrings like Anna who shoved a mound of dirt into his mouth and made him feel the worms dancing on the tip of his tongue but the moment of hesitation is small, unnoticeable, as he fixes up her earrings and makes his Mother look beautiful.

She's never looked deader in his life.

So he just stares at her, and it has only one message don't kill yourself tonight, Mother dearest, and she just leaves. He's going to wait for her to come back, and in his spare time, he'd just stare and curse at the chirping birds, and stop time for a second, so he can pretend that the Barbie in the dresser isn't haunting him with her brilliant blue eyes. He doesn't like blue eyes.

Kurt has the most beautiful blue eyes in the world.

And Sebastian hates them.


When he's nine, he knows how to paint the world in colours, but he also knows that behind the glossiness, there is a certain corruption that signals for darkness, kind of unlit, kind of sad, and distorted and disorientated. His Father comes back late at night, and sees his wife dressed up in her bed, and Sebastian's still awake, so he sits down with him in the dead end of the night, and they whisper tales of Paris love lights.

"The bar in Paris—the one in Champs-Élysées, they keep talking about your Mother," and this makes Jean Smythe pause for a second, as he pours Sebastian a glass of warm milk, and adds a bit of honey in it because his kid's too thin to be alive. "…she's done things, hasn't she?"

Sebastian opens his mouth and defends her. "She's broken."

Jean doesn't say anything for a while, as the boy that plays the part of the Mother holds the cup close to his lips, and takes a long sip. His elementary grades are perfect, and his green eyes hold no emotion, but the body before him seems just as broken as Gabriella Smythe's body does.

"You're so much like your Mother, you know," Jean just shoots back, and takes a long drawl of the milk in the mug and pretends that it has a flavour. He waits for Sebastian to retort that he doesn't spend his days drinking himself until he passes out and taking so many drugs he's sure that all of the world spins into circles, but he doesn't. He just finishes off his mug, takes his Father's empty one, washes it, repeats it thrice, and then bows down before his Father in some sort of honour and respect.

Jean pretends to not notice that Sebastian's eyes are bloodshot next morning as he stays awake for Gabriella when she wakes up at three am, and he sits beside her as she throws up. Two weeks later, he finds Sebastian slumped against the toilet bowl, throwing up, skin high with fever, shaking, and Gabriella stumbling in, telling him he needs to shower, almost as if her eyes don't see the sick boy that's throwing his guts out.

Sebastian would just smile. It's not a real smile. It's as fake as the Barbie doll in his dresser. "Ladies first."


Sebastian's ten years old when his hand is grabbing onto one of those really expensive mirrors that his Mother owns.

He looks at it, and grimaces at his eyes, too bloodshot, face, too pale and thin, lips too tiny, eyes too green, so he shoves the mirror at the back of his head – and overall, as he looks up to see one of those men that his Mother brings home and doesn't stay conscious enough to be fucked by them, he can feel it all rising in his mouth, bile, but he takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and the man watches in cool consideration as ten-year-old Sebastian unbuttons his shirt for the man, and pulls it off.

A body's a body in the end.

Sebastian's rammed towards the table, doesn't even scream anymore, and lets him have his way, and when he's done, Sebastian opens the door for him when he wants to leave.


Eleven-year-old Sebastian's taught that passion is power.

He's passionate and powerful about his music and he figures when he's been fucked to the core of his being, in his Mother's white dress, red lipstick, he doesn't really care. When he looks up and sees that it's one of his Father's best friends, running his hand against Sebastian's hair.

He hears the click of the door again, the man's going to leave, and the dress he's wearing is off him, exposing pale skin, and the entire scenery is thoroughly fucked but at least Paris men try to slur out beautiful things after they've fucked, before they leave.

Even if Sebastian's just still just ending his Mother's nights for her. The men keep on threatening to hurt his Mummy, and he won't let that happen so he throws himself away. He's honestly used to it right now about now, but he still screams sometimes. He's a whore just like his Mother/ and it doesn't matter as long as she's not hurt, even if half the time he just wants her to die. Sebastian thinks his Mother's a bitch that should go rot in Hell, but says nothing when he runs the lipstick over his lips in the morning.

Mother's young vivacious boyfriend that she always seems to bring home's name's Paul. Paul likes fucking Sebastian to his parent's mattress when his Mother passes out from alcoholic intoxication. Once before he leaves, he looks back at Sebastian and says: "You've got your Mother's eyes, beautiful green ones, très belle."

I've got my Mother's tragedy.


When he's twelve, his Mother doesn't come home, even when Sebastian's waiting for her to come home with a new man who she's met on a Subway station, as drunk as she is. She doesn't show up until that morning, dress stained with blood and he watches Jean lean down beside her, and tell her that it's gonna be okay when she mewls and cries. Sebastian just stands there apathetically, wishing that she'd just die already. When Gabriella wakes up, she grabs onto Sebastian's shoulders and tells him he doesn't understand anything she's going through.

Sebastian spits in her face.

Jean doesn't talk to Sebastian anymore. She leaves tonight nonetheless and when she comes home, she's with a new boy, and Sebastian pulls himself in front of her body and tells them that if they touch his intoxicated Mother, he'll kill them, and then offers himself like a body slave.

He still doesn't talk to any of his parents.


When he's thirteen, he swears he'll never be like his Mother.


When he's fourteen, he moves to Lima and realises that he hates it more than Paris does, because sex is so normal that he swears nobody knows what rape even means. When rape doesn't exist, Sebastian can't really call the fucking rape anymore, even when he's sure that it kind of is. No, wait, his Mother was raped and he's nothing like his Mother, so really, he's just a whore at her disposal. He's never hated anyone in his life as much as he hates his Mother.

That's until he meets Kurt Hummel.


When he's fifteen years old, he realises he likes singing, because his Mother hates every song that comes on the radio, so he sings and sings and the radio's blaring high. His Mother tells him to shut the fuck up Sebastian, and he doesn't. He just smirks as he mumbles tones of Queen whilst running his finger across her eyes, so that she's perfect. She's beautiful, and her eyes are soft and green and her hair's brown and has the same texture he has, and he realises how much he looks like her, and he's disgusted.

He's disgusting and corrupted so he makes her beautiful, because there's no way in Hell he'll be like her. He polishes his nails, and swears he'll never have a drink in his life. On his sixteenth birthday, he has his first drink, ends up passed out onto the couch, naked, body underneath a man that's ten years older than him.

He's just like his Mother.


When he's sixteen, he meets Kurt Hummel.

Kurt has blue eyes, like Barbie doll blue, and dark hair, and his skin's pale and even in the blueness, there's that fucking innocence his Mother has when he's doing his makeup. Kurt does his makeup too, paints it pretty and hides himself away from the world. Sebastian hits the lowest he's ever hit. He's cold and calculating and he hates Kurt Hummel as much as he hates his Mother.

His Mother dies of alcoholic intoxication. Sebastian refuses to think that the four bottles of champagne he drinks every night can account for anything. He's cold, and he's just like her – dead, cold and dark, - and Kurt, Kurt when provokes, is just like she is.

And Sebastian knows that even though he hates Kurt with his guts, that he'd always be there to paint his face when it's all over with because as much as he hates this sick cycle carousel, he needs Kurt to live.

And Kurt needs Sebastian to stay pretty for the lights.