IMPORTANT warnings: eating disorders, violence, obsessions, obsessional need for perfection, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, suicide attempt/suicide, self-abuse, self-harm, gruesome graphic images of death
Friday night, 21st of October [8:45PM in the Stone Plaza]
-assessment; building 104 on a famous road, in a famous place where dreams reside whilst bodies, minds and their owners await for their hope to be broken by neglect or fuelled by recognition-
"When you give someone a broken heart, it is just as senseless as a massacre."
The front of the room held a band of blonde-haired females dressed in a distinctive shade of black. They'd dyed their hair for the role they wanted, and their legs were starved off any amount of fat and toned to the bone. The middle of the room held boys wearing long ebony shirts and tights. They were wearing flats too sizes too small for them and their feet was bleeding with ache, but they still perfected every stance. The end of the room held a band of boys and girls wearing pure and utter ivory lace over their thin limbs.
This was madness, but it was so beautiful to see that it might never matter that they held death so close to them with every movement.
"Except not. Except this is a massacre of the soul. The body will become a mere vessel of a corrupted soul. To dance, to sing, is to give that rapture colour…persistence…beauty…"
The beauty they were giving was persistent with pain, and agony. Their movements as graceful as dying flowers and jaded diamonds glittering in seas of hot-white pain.
"…in all essence, to sing, to dance, to be beautiful has a price. It's the artist's soul. They would give it all in their beauty, and leave nothing for themselves. They will become an empty vessel."
Doe brown eyes were owned by a boy with thin legs and arms as he flipped in a harmonious movement, landing perfectly on his hands, and his legs hanging in the air in perfect stance, so bloody perfect that it almost might never matter that he'd broken his arms three times trying to do it three months ago, and fainted when he tried to perfect it from lack of food and sleep. The doe-like eyes found their way to the blue-eyed speaker and director for the play. His name was Kurt, and it was fitting considering he was curt and straight to the point, brief with what he desired. Control.
The doe-brown eyed boy's name was Blaine Anderson. Blaine…such a strange name, they'd say. Blaine meant yellow, but he was decked in ebony black so articulate to its shade that it almost matched his hair. There was no yellow, and no sunshine abided behind those eyes. Irony rippled through dance, as he repeated another movement in precise balance.
"Some say it runs in blood. When a person is bleeding, they're alive. But an artist doesn't bleed. The audience bleeds for them. They live off the blood of others, but the sweat and tears of their own essence."
There was another boy at the end of the room, wearing ivory. Sinful as sins can be with his body screaming out words of desire, sex, and amour, amour, amour, braise-moi, pretends-moi whispers hidden behind velvety red curtains along with throaty moans they pretended not to hear. Ivory white as the elephant's tusk, but bled with so much sin that it broke the innocence of the character, and showed darkness of lustful desire instead. The boy full of lust was named Sebastian. His true persona contrasted with his clothing and innocent movements, but all knew what hid beyond those eyes of green, something far more dangerous than love. Beckoning, dark lust.
"An artist dances, and sings, and paints, until their dying day even unaware and even in death, they whisper a final song, an ending ballad. That final note, when all the blood has been lost, when the soul is dead, when the body is broken beyond repair..."
The blue-eyed director and speaker, Kurt stopped at the very end of the room, and pressed his head against Sebastian's shoulder, whispering words of truth in a low voice that left a chill up Sebastian's spine.
"…is the only time when the artist starts truly bleeding."
Saturday morning, 22nd of October [6:02AM in an apartment]
-assessment; an apartment shared by two people with two different dreams-
An envelope of light caressed the room.
Near soundless groans escaped an exhausted body. Sebastian rolled against his bedside, enveloped by a dull, sharp pain that was digging just above his stomach. Long, elongated fingers found their way to the loud ringing of an alarm clock as he shut the offending object. A crisp, white shirt lay in a disastrous wake of fabric and clothing on the floor. His air conditioner hummed a rhythmic tone, breaking the otherwise silent air. Just as Sebastian was to leave, a gentle hand squeezed his thigh and he looked down to see a soft, powder-pink smile on Jeremiah's face.
Sebastian leaned down, capturing their lips into a near perfect kiss as Jeremiah's hand enveloped around Sebastian's hips. Jeremiah stood, his rock-hard body pressed against Sebastian's back as Sebastian threw his head back so that their lips can touch. After a multitude of soft kisses, Jeremiah's hands slid down Sebastian's underwear, reaching for his hardness. "I have practice," Sebastian murmured, sliding away from Jeremiah's hands.
Jeremiah smirked. "Want cash?"
"Only whores take cash," Sebastian muttered under his breath as Jeremiah shook his head, bringing Sebastian's head close to him so that his tongue can slide inside of Sebastian's mouth. After the impromptu kiss, Jeremiah slapped Sebastian's ass, and was on his way out after he found his clothing in the mess of fabric that lay on Sebastian's floor. Still unclothed, Sebastian looked at his choice for clothing, finding his cornsilk white leotard and practically throwing it inside of his bag. He found a pair of decent-smelling pants, a shirt that didn't have any stains on and a jacket. Just in case, he wound up spraying it with an insane amount of perfume.
After he had sorted out his clothing, he laid it on his bed along with his duffel bag that had his cornsilk white leotard. He turned off his air conditioner, hopped on to his shower, washing off the desire and filth of the night before. The hot water was a large comfort to Sebastian's mind as he reached in for various cluttered shampoos and body washes. By the time that his rather loud, obnoxious clock had finally reached 6:32AM, Sebastian was clean, clothed, with the duffel against his shoulder.
The room was still full of too much clothes on the floor, his phone now found and shoved in his phone, a tissue box nowhere to be found, and various plastic plates of dinner still on the table waiting to be thrown away. Had Chandler gotten the plates specifically so they wouldn't have so many dishes to do? How long had the sink been clattered with filthy dishes? Sebastian poked his head under his bedside; how unsanitary was it to have a dead cockroach nestling under his bed now, being devoured by small insects? Sebastian groaned and stepped away from his bedside. He found his shoes, and left the messy Hell that he knew only as his bedroom.
He walked down to the kitchen and opened up a cabinet, finding out a box of cereal. He went to his fridge, looking at milk, looking at expiration date and then throwing it away realising the thing had to be well over expired for a month or so. Sebastian saw Chandler poke his head out of the doorway, with a soft blush on his face. The blush made everything look rosier on Chandler, which was ironic because Chandler hated roses. A memory flashed into Sebastian's mind of Chandler coughing up Skittles that have been contaminated by rosette perfume. After that day, the scent of roses had made him nauseated. "Did you…do things…with my brother yesterday?"
Sebastian smirked as he nodded towards Chandler, indicating that whatever Chandler thought was definitely true. "Jeremiah was a good lay."
Chandler looked close to throwing up, and he probably would've if he'd eaten anything. Sebastian enjoyed that small bit about Chandler – that he didn't eat until Sebastian woke up, and then they had breakfast together. Some things were best done with pairs and people than alone. The thought of eating breakfast alone went back to days of being sheltered in his cage of a house with a nanny named Franny and a small dog that used to lick at Sebastian's loafers in affection. The dog was dead. Franny was gone, but the memory was still as alive as long as it played into his mind. Chandler looked down at the garbage as if it was radio-active. Chandler's cleanliness had been clashing with the disordered environment. He had been clothed in dark jeans and a black button-down. "Where's my blazer?"
"My room," Sebastian watched as Chandler left to go to the taller boy's room. Just as Sebastian had picked up the keys to the apartment, he heard Chandler scream "Dear Evita!" from the cavern that Sebastian called a room. A wide smile found its way on Sebastian's lips, almost knowingly. He was amused to say the least. He left without much thought to his destination. It took him five minutes to bike to and from the grocery store and get a carton of full-fat milk, five Red Bulls, a Snickers and a KitKat bar. By the time he was home again, he can still hear Chandler heaving in frustration.
"I cleaned this three days ago," Chandler said, voice full of astonishment, as he picked at his clothing, pulling them in a plastic basket. Chandler scrunched up his nose when he picked up a plaid shirt that was full of stains. Sebastian shook his head as Chandler threw in the many clothing that resided only on Sebastian's floor inside of the basket until Sebastian can see that the carpet that covered the room was a nice shade of blue actually. Chandler vacuumed and swept, screaming when he found said dead cockroach at the bottom of Sebastian's bed and telling Sebastian to throw it away. Chandler had practically refused to look at anything else of Sebastian's after that. Just in case I found a colony of vampires living in your bathroom, he'd said.
The cleaner room was more inviting but Sebastian knew that wouldn't last. Nothing good ever did, so why bother cleaning it up if it was only going to suffer on the hands of corruption? Chandler had then sprayed it with some gay shit that Sebastian didn't even want to know but even the scent of…Sebastian looked at the label, cotton flower, but even Sebastian acknowledged that this scent was far more better than the scent of the Chinese takeaway that Sebastian had gotten the night before. In about fourteen minutes, Chandler had completely cleaned his room, made his bed and put his clothing in the laundry and in every one of those fourteen minutes; Sebastian was convinced Chandler would worry himself into a panic attack. I swear, Chandler's eyes glittered, if one day I die, it will be because I found something underneath your bed. Sebastian didn't even need to tell Chandler that monsters never lived underneath the bed, they lived on top of the bed and came out at night to play.
Sebastian's BlackBerry buzzed, alerting him of a new message, which just happened to be his Mother. Nathalie: Sebastian, your Father and I are taking you out to dinner today at 8. Dress sharply. Sebastian groaned at the thought of spending his proper Friday night out having dinner with his Mother. Sebastian's Father practically worshipped the ground he walked on. If Sebastian decided to join the circus, Jean would probably buy him a circus. You're spoiled rotten, his teacher had once told him when Sebastian had crossed his legs and quite blatantly refused to do his work because it was long and tedious, I do not understand what is so special about you. You are nothing more than the rest of this universe. We're all lost.
When Sebastian said he wanted to be in part of the new competitive school in Ohio that focused on the arts, primarily dancing and music, Jean had paid the tuition without another word. At the age of fourteen, Jean had let him take a sip of wine when he'd asked. At the tender age of sixteen, he asked his Father about leaving for a few days so that he can have sex with his boyfriend and he let him. There was no wrong that Sebastian can do in Jean's eyes. That was probably the worst thing in the world, Nathalie said to him once as his Mother stirred in a cup of tea for herself, laughing, he loved his son more than he could ever love his own wife. In his eyes, Sebastian was more than just an apple. He was the whole Garden of Eden. I don't understand why. He's not special, not any different. He's just a boy, and a horrid one at that.
In another twenty minutes, Sebastian had reached to his destination. They'd gone from the plaza to the studio and the studio was such a dark, disgusting place. In that studio, there were demons, but they were all dancing so beautifully. Nobody would see the pain because nobody was looking for it. Nobody would understand because you had to do the dance to understand it. Sebastian would learn after years, that the fabrication of that pain came in the form of a black-haired beauty named Blaine Anderson, whose hair was gelled, whose clothes were pressed, whose eyes were a beautiful sensual dark colour. He was the character in a fairy-tale, but those that cannot see the pain in his eyes do not understand how morbid the fairy tale was.
In that moment, Sebastian had seen Blaine put down his duffel bag down against one of the chairs. The chairs were all at the back, and usually used for waiting. The whole room was like a stage, but with this room came judgement and this judgment had the ability to break people, beautiful people. Blaine was the most broken of them all. Sebastian remembered sitting next to Biology class with Blaine. Teacher said words that escaped Sebastian's mind as Sebastian's only focus had become Blaine. Sebastian had called Blaine only by one title, "best friend." Sebastian can only remember the Blaine he'd known as having gelled hair, a bright smile, and beautiful eyes that touched stars just by existing. Sebastian remembered having dreams about those lips, soft, delicate ones. He can imagine Blaine would taste like chocolate or cinnamon. Blaine did not notice Sebastian's eyes on his skin, and he did not decipher something more than friendship. Sebastian realised that Blaine was beautiful, and the kind of beauty that made stars twinkle. Sebastian loved Blaine a lot like Rose loved Jack.
He remembered other memories, of Blaine calling him. The phone rung late at night, but Sebastian was inclined to pick it up. Blaine told him about the boy who'd slept with him and left him, how his broken heart will never truly meant. I'm alone. I don't want to be alone, so Sebastian drove, bringing along cartons of ice-cream and chocolate. They sat down and watched Seth Rogan together and laughed. Sebastian realised he'd never heard a laugh more genuine and then after Blaine laughed, he cried and Sebastian held him. They fell asleep beside each other and Sebastian wondered how it was like to dream. Sebastian realised he loved Blaine a lot like Rose loved Jack.
Sebastian remembered laying a hand on Blaine's skin once, just feeling it, and Blaine let him suckle his neck. Blaine told him he wanted to know how it felt to be loved. Sebastian's kisses escalated into hot touches, and they were just against his bed. Blaine's skin was bare. It was muscle, sweat and gleam. Sebastian wanted to make Blaine realise that nothing in the world can be as beautiful as he was, so he did. He showed him a love a lot like Rose loved Jack.
They had never talked about it after, but time trickled from seconds into minutes into hours into days into weeks into months, and then Blaine was standing there, ready to leave. Sebastian realised how perfect Blaine was, his hair, his skin, his weight, his height, everything about him was as dazzling as the sun. It took a while for Sebastian to realise that no star in the universe shone quite as bright. Blaine hugged him as tightly as ever. Sebastian embraced him back. They were going to go to the new world together, new college, a competitive one. Sebastian knew Blaine's traits, Blaine's faults, but all of that slipped away in the back of his mind when he'd taken Blaine to dance and ballet.
As Sebastian sat on the chair, he watched Blaine drift off. At first, it was so simple. I just want to train for an hour more before I see you. I just want to make sure I'm okay enough. I just want to get this last dance right. I forgot to eat. I don't like food anymore. I'm disgusting and fat. I'm revolting. By the time that it had transcended into madness, Sebastian realised it was too late. Soon, Blaine's time was devoted to dance, and his dietary habits have left something a lot like a shadow of Blaine. Sebastian once confronted him, after late nights, holding Blaine's hand, gripping tightly on that wrist, and whispered to him, Blaine, you're killing yourself. Fucking stop. He would never forget those eyes look up to him so hopeful. I'm going to die? That hopefulness, that need for death was what scared Sebastian the most.
Sebastian hadn't talked to Blaine that day, but he'd watched. He couldn't say anything when he saw the number on the scale rapidly flickering whenever they had to get weighed in for costumes. He couldn't say anything when Blaine's eyes showed barely any emotion but that pain that was consistent. Sebastian watched Blaine dance, and it was the dance of the angels, but the angels were not human things. Blaine was barely human and that will always be a bad thing.
He heard the sound of clapping, which was Kurt's way of getting everyone's attention.
Sebastian stared back at Kurt, whom was completely composed. He gestured to the seats that were at the back of the room. Blaine had sat down by then, completely proper. Sebastian was the last to sit down. When he had, his eyes had quickly flickered to Kurt's eyes. "I have been told that the old director of this musical had told me that your main dancer was Sebastian Smythe," Kurt said in a stern voice. "Which one of you are him?"
Sebastian smirked. Kurt didn't need a show of hands now.
"You do realise however," Kurt began, his voice steady. "Whilst I am sure that you're very good, we're doing a production of Swan Lake. You will have an alternate considering you will fail at portraying both parts."
"Fail?" Sebastian said the word as if it was foreign. It was a deadly word between those four walls. You fail once and you never get a chance again. Some of these girls knew, but Blaine had physically flinched at hearing that word that he never wanted to hear in his life.
"One person," Kurt said, putting his finger up in the air. "Two characters. One of them is the Black Swan, seductress, reckless, and demanding – which from what I observed that one singular day that I've seen you perform is you."
Sebastian shrugged as if he didn't care. "There it is again. Childish recklessness." Kurt said, and Sebastian raised an eyebrow at 'childish recklessness' but didn't say much else as Kurt had swooned his way towards Sebastian, whom was next to Blaine. Just being next to Kurt made Blaine's ability to breathe constricted as Kurt had laid a hand on Sebastian's shoulder and then on Blaine's.
"Reckless, demanding, seducing, keen, sexual, apathetic," Kurt said, looking at Sebastian's face, "lazy." He gestured his hand towards Sebastian again. "Black Swan."
Kurt then gestured his hand towards Blaine. "Restrained, perfectionist, sensual, emotional, anxious," Kurt called out all of Blaine's characters, "controlled and controlling." He stared back at Sebastian with an adamant look on his face. "White Swan."
Sebastian and Blaine stared at each other. It was the first time in a long time. Sebastian can see the sadness behind those eyes, the emptiness and Blaine can see the mirroring confusion in Sebastian's eyes. Kurt had not seemed to miss this as he had not interrupted the moment of recognition until after a few minutes. "I believe that our practice sessions should be at from six am to eight pm, and the rest of you," Kurt's eyes had gone to the other ballerinas and ballet dancers, "can work with a NYADA student by the name of Rachel Berry for the same time."
As if on cue, Kurt had nodded at the doorway as an excited Rachel walked inside with a huge binder in her hand. "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry and we have a rigorous training schedule. Just because you're not in the lead doesn't mean that you should fall behind because your job is to enhance the stars…"
Sebastian had zoned out after that, eyes going back to look at Blaine.
After a moment they were taken to be measured and fitted. Kurt had Blaine pick off the designs but Blaine seemed to be thinking it was either a test or challenge, overworking himself with worn-out anxiety. Sebastian had rolled his eyes. It took him three seconds to decide. "I think Blaine and I should match if you're going to make him my alternate, with the black and white scheme. Outfit number seven is okay."
Kurt had nodded his head. He looked over at Blaine, whom just complied nodding his head towards Kurt. He looked like he despised outfit number seven, and was leaning more towards five. Sebastian knew that five would look amazing on Blaine but no way he was wearing number five. "Colours?" Kurt asked. It was not just 'white' and not just 'black'.
"Ebony," Sebastian quickly answered.
Kurt looked at Blaine whom answered quite quickly for how frazzled he was. "Ivory."
"Ebony and ivory," Kurt seemed pleased with this combination as he nodded his head. They waited and then a woman with a measuring tape named Mercedes came to take their measurements and weights. Six-foot-two Sebastian weighed in at one-forty-seven and had measurements that seemed to be satisfactory. Blaine, on the other hand, was dipping the underweight region at one-one-nine but didn't seem too concerned about it. Kurt kept his eyes steady on Blaine, when he was being measured.
There was something wrong with Blaine and Kurt can tell too. Sebastian can write a book about what was wrong with Blaine, but right at that moment, when Kurt had gave him schedules for training, Sebastian saw that glimmer of beautiful emotion in Blaine's eyes and realised right then that he'd seen a flicker of his Blaine hiding behind those dark shadows, a beautiful flicker that was purer than ivory white.
Saturday night, 22nd of October [9:12PM at a restaurant]
-assessment; a fancy restaurant with fancy people pretending to be something better than what they truly are -
Sebastian Smythe had been told to dress sharply but all of his 'sharply' clothing had been in the wash, and the other ones had smelled dangerously close to rotten eggs and peanut butter, so he found himself wearing a pair of faded jeans, a fitted black hoodie, and walked inside of a fancy restaurant with his iPod Touch glued to his hip and songs of Amy Macdonald blaring from the headphones. He had shoved his headphones into his pocket the minute he had seen his Mother's face. She had the fakest smile plastered on her face. "Sit down; we're waiting for your Father."
Sebastian smirked, so there was no use of coming in early anyway. Blaine and his Mother seemed quite alike, except one of them Sebastian was attracted to and he'd seen something more beautiful than the world in his eyes at some point. He wished he can bring that Blaine back, the one that weighed forty pounds more of muscle, stole Sebastian's bagels, ate cream cheese straight out of the carton, sang with so much zeal that it was almost like the song was written for him and the one that laid down beside him, looking up to him to guide him for his broken heart. That was his Blaine, but his Blaine was ripped apart from the storybook completely.
Sebastian's Mother had ordered him salmon on rice already so by the time the extremely healthy dish arrived, Sebastian had consumed half of the bread basket. His Father came about thirty minutes into the meal, with a plate of steak, and carrots and broccoli swapped for mashed potato. Jean's first question was, "Did you order dessert?"
Nathalie closed her eyes and Sebastian wanted to laugh. He knew that for one, when he was in France, they loved having dessert. It was a near necessity with Sebastian's push-over Nona that wanted Sebastian to eat an entire baguette of cheese in less than five minutes. Sebastian remembered choking on mozzarella and smiled at the endearing memory. Those memories were not endearing at that moment, but it was something different, something that only a few people can share and when he retold the story, it was just not quite the same as the events marvelling before their eyes. Sebastian had realised years after he and Blaine had that one night where they slept with each other was that Sebastian had no problem outlining every conquest he'd had but he cannot bring up the night Blaine and him had slept with each other.
It's just between us, was just the mantra that had gone through Sebastian's life. Blaine can share every memory, the bagel, the cream cheese, the laughter, the tears, but nobody would ever be Blaine's first like Sebastian was. Nobody would ever have the pleasure of saying the held Blaine into their arms when he stared up into Sebastian's eyes and swore that the sky was green, not blue.
Sebastian ate salmon as his Father and Mother spoke.
"So how's ballet?" his Mother would ask.
"We don't just do ballet," Sebastian glared at her, but he just wanted a reason to fix her. "It's primarily structured around ballet because it's the dance most others know. We sing sometimes but that's become a rare occasion. It's just that everyone's a fuck-up so we stay focused on ballet like some chicks." Had Sebastian really gotten in the school to dance? No, he had gone there to sing but realised that they wanted to strip away his voice and play with him like a puppet. Blaine complied. Sebastian didn't dare lose himself in dance.
She cleared his throat. "And what about Blaine? I haven't seen you bring Blaine home in such a long time."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Sebastian doesn't live with—"
"I mean I haven't heard from Blaine," she corrected herself. "I haven't heard from Blaine or you talking about Blaine in a long time."
Sebastian hated how his Mother was spot on. "Blaine changed."
Sebastian had looked through his BlackBerry Curve and had showed the woman a picture of current Blaine. Jean and Nathalie stared at the picture for an entire three minutes before Nathalie had looked down at the dish in front of her, taking a large bite out of her Ceasar salad without staining her rouge lipstick. Sebastian had stared back down at the picture and suddenly realised that not only was Blaine's smile as fake as ever before, but his thighs were so tiny that they made Sebastian want to projectile vomit.
"It's proof that," Sebastian shook his head. "They can take away everything. Everything is as fragile as shit. They took away something intangible from Blaine. How the fuck did they manage do that?"
Sebastian snorted. "I always thought it was stupid, but now I know why the fuck Blaine rhymes with pain."
"I think he looks beautiful," Nathalie said, as Sebastian stared at the romaine lettuce leaves.
"He's not beautiful He's not full of anything but dreams that he knows he can't achieve. He's not full of food, he lives on water and a few grapes a day and he's not Blaine. He only appears as a shell of Blaine and claims himself to be Blaine and I realise above all else, I despise him with all of my fucking heart because it's one thing to take Blaine away from me, but it's another thing to make me stare at what monster you turned him into every single fucking day." Sebastian took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Do you know what pisses me off?"
"What?" Nathalie's voice was a little icy. "The world?"
Sebastian glared at his Mother but responded anyway. "More than anything else in the world, they took away Blaine before I can even say goodbye."
It's like one day he was just Blaine, happy Blaine with his glittering eyes and beautiful smile, and then the other day he wasn't.
"You've over exaggerating." Nathalie finally quipped in. Jean was silent as he did not want to get into anything between Nathalie and Sebastian considering he nearly always sided with Sebastian unless it concerned health. "Sebastian, you are insane. It's still Blaine with a little bit of weight loss and an entirely new dream. What is wrong with dreaming of something else?"
"I don't care what he dreams about. Blaine is not his dreams. Blaine is what he feels." Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "And what he feels is pain. Pain changes people. It fucking changed me and it changed you and it changed my Blaine into disgusting people that should rot in hell. And you know what? I wish we would already. There's no point in any of this. We're fooling ourselves, thinking we can love, but we love nothing. Don't we Mother?"
"I love you," Nathalie abruptly said.
Sebastian laughed, allowing hot tears to fill his eyes. "That's a lie."
Nathalie looked down at her salad, changing the subject completely. "Is the salmon well? It's quite good for your dancing. Full of so many healthy fats and omega three and..."
Sebastian sighed, but he didn't bring it up again. Their arrogance showed by their body language, the way they ate and drank signalled to everyone else that they were more sophisticated just as the way that Sebastian's dancing showed off nothing more than pride in the dance, forgetting the point and value of the dance completely. That was the Black Swan, arrogant, reckless, but you still watched, because as much as the dancer believed in his power, you did too.
The restaurant clattered with laughter and chatter from each sides and Sebastian can only think of how much he fucking hated salmon.
Wednesday night, 19th of December [8:53PM at a the studio]
-assessment; a later hour at a studio where it works to crush dreams of aspiring beautiful people -
Their opening night was in August, yet Kurt was working at them as if their opening night was the following day. He found himself walking towards Kurt now. He hated this small amount of doubt that was pooling into his stomach. To Sebastian, doubt was foreign and unwelcome, as there had to be certainty and consistency. The small amount of anxiety Sebastian had due to this doubt had left him slightly jittery. He had walked towards the studio where Kurt was just packing his things, as he slithered towards Kurt, placing his hands on his shoulders. This was the best way to swoon the director, either by guilt, by lust, or by complete infatuation. Sebastian laid his head next to Kurt's. "I see the way you look at me."
"Of course, I must," Kurt rolled his eyes. "I am after all trying to stare at your position and how imperfect your first stance is of the song."
Sebastian's hands wafted down Kurt's as if he was just admiring the skin behind the tuxedo-based fabricated clothing. "No, you have those eyes that are made for those that you can only seem interested in…" Sebastian brought his ear to Kurt's now, having have stopped roaming his hands around his body and had settled for Kurt's lovely broad shoulders. "…those eyes that are driven mad by something more than just assessment."
"Surely not," Kurt cut him off. "Your attempt at seducing me is futile and will get you nowhere. I am not Elias, Sebastian and I will not guarantee you your role however you want it – you will work as a dancer must for a ballet that he has to be committed to completely. Are you committed?"
No, this was wrong. Sebastian felt a sudden amount of anxiety ripping in his stomach. Sebastian then placed his head on Kurt's shoulder, still trying to seduce him as he placed his hand down Kurt's pants, feeling the skin just beside his cock. "I know you're gay."
Kurt looked up at Sebastian, with a completely stoic expression. "May you please take your hand away from my pants?" he seemed slightly frustrated.
"Sebastian," Kurt began. "You are not irreplaceable." Sebastian finally took his hand out of Kurt's pants, mostly in fear of the certainty in Kurt's voice as Kurt's blue eyes met with Sebastian. "You will not be pampered here. You will work just as well as anyone else does and if you fail; you will not get a role again for a very long time, possibly for your whole career."
It was a complete blow to what Sebastian used to do. His heart raced and all he could feel were jitters. He bit down his lower lip, looking down at Kurt, whom was staring at him with the most adamant eyes Sebastian had ever seen in his life. "Now," Kurt began, eyes had. "I must remind you of some things."
Kurt caressed Sebastian's cheek, placing a hand on his hip, bringing him close. Sebastian was confused now because Kurt was giving him a taste of his own medicine. Kurt was the one that was seducing him, running his hand down the front of Sebastian's leotard, his finger rubbing against Sebastian's hard, erect nipples.
"You know what I want to show you?" Kurt said, pulling Sebastian down on a chair next to his desk. The moonlight grazed on his skin like it was covering them. He had pulled off Sebastian's shirt like it was nothing at all. "That's there's emotion in sex, Sebastian." His hand ran down Sebastian's bare navel, as Sebastian stared up at Kurt. Kurt found himself rubbing the back of Sebastian's neck, as Sebastian threw his head back in pleasure of the sensation.
"Fuck me," Sebastian begged, eyes filled with some sort of desperation.
Kurt pulled away. "No," he said, watching Sebastian hard, flustered and panting from need. "I can't, Sebastian because firstly, you are my student and secondly, it will only grave this idea into your head that physical touch is all you need when you're having sex, but it's more and I want you to find out more."
"Then you'll sleep with me?" Sebastian hurriedly said.
Kurt had a small smile. "Perhaps," he said. "But not for a role or because of a role. If you're interested in any sex from me, I have to ask you out then. We must establish a real relationship. So Sebastian, will you go to this quite eloquent restaurant that just opened up a few blocks away from here?"
Sebastian's eyes were riddled with confusion. "Why bother? Can't we just skip to the fucking?"
Kurt shrugged as if he had no clue, with a small knowing smile to his face. "I like to treat my 'conquests' as you'd call them or as Blaine told me you'd called them with a nice treat, but I must tell you from now on that I'm also emotionally interested in Blaine and I will take him out a few times a week as well. I'm simply indecisive and he knows that I planned on asking you out. I'm not going to give you more attention than the other, and I'm sorry that I can't pick between you two as if now considering I barely know the both of you."
Kurt smiled when Sebastian just nodded, understandingly. "Sebastian, I'm not asking you out just to talk about ballet or promise you that this will lead to any kind of sex by the end of this night or by the end of this year, I'm asking you out because I truly genuinely want to understand the boy behind the dance. It has nothing to do with the ballet or any of that. I just want to have a nicely meal. We can pretend we're strangers then in your mind and you just met me and—"
Sebastian smirked; cutting Kurt off, understanding what Kurt was trying to save overall. "I'm Sebastian Smythe, ballet dancer, sex addict."
Kurt smiled now, playing along with Sebastian. "I'm Kurt Hummel, instructor, student at NYADA as well but sent here by Carmen Tibideaux on a rather vigorous learning programme, romantic, and I have a high-pitched voice that most people don't like at all."
Sebastian found himself smiling anyway at the last bit as Kurt had placed a hand on his mouth in fake shock, gasping out. "I'm sorry, Sebastian, I forgot to give you a rather nice assortment of roses from the local farmers."
Sebastian shook his head, laughing. "It's alright. I hate roses," he said after a while.
"There we go," Kurt said, as he walked out of the studio with Sebastian, hand in hand, "do you like flowers?"
"Which is?" Kurt asked but then guessed. "Carnations?"
Sebastian gestured Kurt to his car, opening the vehicle which smelled of something along the line of cinnamon and a latte that Sebastian had forgotten to drain this morning. "I like dahlias."
"Dahlias," Kurt tasted it on his tongue as he smiled weakly. "Well, then, dahlia, I'll be sure to remember next time."
Saturday night, 16th of February [2:57PM at a the studio]
-assessment; in a studio where things are stranger now -
Sebastian had gone to his dressing room to find a bouquet of white dahlias waiting for him. Kurt had told him that they were going to spend time together, Blaine and Sebastian, that they had to learn from each other. Sebastian knew Kurt was still with both of them, and he still couldn't decide but it didn't make the gesture of buying him those beautiful flowers any less than they were.
Sebastian didn't understand the feeling of dread that followed him around and the pooling anxiety in his chest because now that he had to work to perfect the stances completely, he felt like he was losing himself in the dance. The thing that suffered the most was his sleeping habits. Sebastian hadn't honestly slept in two days and it was toiling on his figure. It was noticeable right now; from how bloodshot his eyes were, as Kurt had taken the coffee away from Sebastian's hands.
Kurt rested a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "You look miserable."
"What else is new?" Sebastian snorted, as he had taken the coffee from Kurt's hands. "I can't sleep."
"Oh, tell me more," Kurt sarcastically said. "Your bloodshot eyes don't quite say a word. How long have you not fallen asleep?"
"Two days maybe," and a bit, Sebastian reckoned. This would have been his third day, as he stood up, seeing Blaine walk inside, frantic with his keys and tightening the strap on his shoulder bag. The first thing he noticed was that Blaine was biting into a Luna bar, and whilst that wasn't that surprising, it was the fact that Blaine was messily eating it, as if he didn't really care. Usually, Blaine's eating was so controlled, measurable, and perfect, but not in that moment.
"I rented you out an apartment that is just a block away from the studio," Kurt said. "I think it will be immensely good to be honest for you and your dancing. In order to play your parts, I think that it's more than needed that you know each other's parts and characteristics because you are each other's complete alternate."
Blaine and Sebastian stared at each other for a moment as Kurt ushered them to the cab. He gave Blaine and Sebastian each a kiss on their cheek. That was the first time Kurt had publically given each other anything. Blaine's eyes enviously stared at the bouquet in Sebastian's hands, as Kurt had left them. Sebastian didn't realise what envy can do to a person, because he didn't realise that envy was a lot worse than pain. Pain changed people but Sebastian would realise that envy would drive people to absolute insanity.
Sunday morning, 17th of February [5:51AM in an apartment]
-assessment; an apartment with two people that share the same dreams, ambitions and pain but are each other's alternate -
Sebastian Smythe realised that Blaine Anderson woke up at a bit less than six am every day without any hesitation. Blaine had stopped dead in his tracks when he found Sebastian nursing a cup of coffee, eyes droopy as he had gone through his third day with this inability to sleep. Beside him, there was a prescription for sleeping pills and one of them had been taken from the tin foil. Blaine had stared at Sebastian for a few moments, before realising that Sebastian can't sleep. His insomnia reached to unimaginable limits. He was sipping coffee not to keep himself awake but to keep himself alert. Blaine hadn't said anything as Sebastian drove to the grocery store he used to bike too. He thought of picking up his chocolate but couldn't in front of Blaine and besides, being around Blaine had made him generally feel like a fatass, considering Blaine was just looking at the section of grapes. Sebastian still bought biscuits, chocolate and wafers after a great deal of debate when Blaine had gotten himself a large amount of fruits and vegetables, and a bout of soymilk. Most of Blaine's cart was littered with green grapes.
When they'd gotten home, Blaine insisted on making breakfast, which was a singular waffle for himself and three for Sebastian filled with a lot of syrup. Sebastian had eaten three bites of his before choking on how sweet it was and deciding to stick to coffee. By the time that five pm had rolled around, Sebastian was ravenous but at the same time, he did not want to go into the kitchen and eat. He had realised right then he was terribly afraid of Blaine judging him. By the time he tried to fall asleep, the hunger pangs kept him awake, and Sebastian realised right then that he loved them. He loved the comfort, the warmth, the pain searing into his stomach. It made him feel more alive than anything else in the world, the desperation of starvation and the ability to refuse. He felt light, like part of the air. He revelled in it completely.
The next morning, he realised that he really just didn't need the syrup or the waffles. He ate one of his chocolate bars, which took off some of the gnawing pain for a bit. He looked at the wrapper and realised he'd ingested two hundred calories and didn't know how to feel about that. He just knew he liked feeling so empty, like his body matched the void that he had on the inside, like he finally felt like he fit into his body. Then he realised he didn't because his body was just too much. His mind was at ease at the thought of eating only this or that. When Sebastian told himself that eating a bar of chocolate for five hours sounded a lot like control, he realised how powerful it was. Most people can stuff their faces in but he was in complete power of his body, ignoring its need. Complete control. It was beautiful.
Sebastian spent most of his time watching Blaine practice. It made him panic even more. Panic was not something he was used to, and the panic had send his hands shaking from hunger and anxiety that he had no longer known before. He found himself putting those hours that he could not sleep in to use. They had three months off for vacation and the fact that Clytie just died, but the more Sebastian was with Blaine, the more he was driven to spend his night dancing and dancing until his feet literally bled from pain.
I can't wait to see you again. Kurt had written to him. Sebastian was tired and he wanted to fall asleep. Even if he closed his eyes for a few moments into reverie, he wanted to, but honestly, he couldn't. His mind was always racing with thoughts he couldn't decipher or understanding. His body was fidgety and his feet trembled when he was doing the first part of the dance. He had collapsed on his couch, and his only worry was that during the performance he'd either faint, fall asleep or be just as jittery and out of control. His scale told him he'd lost twenty-three pounds. His scale told him he was at one-twenty-four, but he just couldn't believe it. He still looked just as much in the mirror, if not more, and to be honest, right now, with the jitter and the pain, Sebastian wanted to disappear.
It took him a while to understand, as he stood in front of the mirror, shirt loose against his bony chest, as he stared into his eyes. The sky isn't blue, Sebastian, it's green, Kurt would say, staring into his eyes. Sebastian laughed, and laughed and laughed as he stared into the mirror, because that emptiness, that pain, that turmoil that was in his eyes mirrored what used to Blaine.
Didn't you want Blaine to be happy? Blaine had gained nine pounds and was starting to look healthier. He ate a lot of Sebastian's bars now, and was dancing less when still maintaining a schedule. He was his Blaine, but Sebastian…was not Sebastian. He didn't know what he was, and the thought of that scared the shit out of him. Sebastian looked back into those bloodshot eyes and then realised that beyond those eyes something dark existed, too dark for words.
Sebastian looked back down at his scale, where Post-It notes had clattered it. Sebastian had recorded his weight loss obsessively, each note on top of the other in his scale. Sebastian laughed. He didn't know what this meant, what any of this meant. Blaine opened the doorway, and those sunny eyes were just so beautiful. Sebastian realised right then that envy would break him too, because Blaine was just so happy.
In that moment, Sebastian realised he didn't care if Blaine was happy. He loathed Blaine and his existence, for being so happy and he wasn't sure what to feel about that. Sebastian was taken to the kitchen where he was given a lot of calories he would not ingest, picking off whole hard-boiled eggs and eating the white part for only seventeen calories per egg instead of the disgusting fattening yolk. Blaine seemed to know it too because he said, "You lost a lot of weight." There it was again. Envy.
Sebastian realised that Blaine ate, Blaine ate a lot, and when he heard the sound of Blaine vomiting in the bathroom, he didn't leave to tell him off, because right now, he completely understood.
Monday morning, 21st of May [7:05AM in the studio]
-assessment; what used to be a familiar place but is too strange for words right now -
Sebastian realised right now that anxiety controlled ninety-three percent of what he did. Blaine's knuckles were scarred. The happiness that he sported was a fake mask caused by envy, just to spite Sebastian for being in pain. They loathed each other more than ever before right now. Blaine used to starve, in control, but now, he was just eating plain everything in sight, but they watched him skip down the bathroom – they knew what was going on too but they honestly didn't care. The whole place knew what was wrong, except for Kurt, and that was the part that hurt the most. I see people falling apart all the time, and I just don't understand, Kurt had said. Sebastian realised right then that weighing himself fifty times a day was obsessive and he should really be eating more than six hundred calories a day, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to, and then he binged. And he felt like the whole world was expanding in his stomach and he was becoming more and more and he hated it. He hated it completely. Kurt had honestly told them to dance at home, saying they had to pay attention to the setting right now and creating the props.
As the days went on, the alternates became each other, slowly but surely. Sebastian found Blaine on the ground multiple times, having have thrown up everything. Blaine was the extreme Sebastian never was. The last straw was when Sebastian had passed by and had seen Kurt, his Kurt, pounding in and out of Blaine against that desk, the moonlight against their skin, highlighting everything and all that Sebastian can do was run. He ran away instead of confronting them and yelling. He didn't know what to do. Sebastian sat on the edge of the stairs, crying, and found a bottle, a broken one. One of Blaine's. Alcohol. He wanted to drink it but he couldn't dare to let those calories in his body so he smashed it against the wall. He didn't know how it happened, but he found himself running the glass against his skin.
It was everything: release, relief, reality…all sinking from his skin in crimson blood.
The leotards were long-sleeved, hiding everything. The girls couldn't bear to look at him anymore because whenever Sebastian stretched, his ribcage showed even through the layer of clothing he had on. Sebastian was going to confront them; he told himself that he refused to be so weak and disgustingly fragile. Blaine walked towards him, and that envy was in his eyes. "You must be proud of yourself," Blaine said, voice dark. "Kurt decided over you. Had a lovely talk about it."
"Didn't you and Kurt have sex yesterday?"
Blaine was honestly confused and Sebastian realised right then he made up the thing in his head. He hadn't any alcohol, anything, but he made it all up in his head anyway, like he was slowly going insane, as everything he knew ebbed away. Kurt walked inside with a bouquet of dahlias for him, giving it to him with a soft expression on his face. Sebastian and Kurt's lips met and Kurt's hands had gone to Sebastian's chest, where he'd pulled away. "Love, I can feel your ribs." Kurt's voice was now full of concern.
Sebastian wanted to deny everything. "I don't know what's happening to me." His voice was weaker than he wanted it too, weaker than he was used to.
"Shhh," Kurt tried to tell him, taking a dahlia out of the bouquet to give to him. "You're just stressed, love."
"No," Sebastian cut him off in an erratic voice. "Kurt, I do things to myself. Things I don't think are normal and…"
"Shhh," Kurt repeated. "Your anxiety levels are through the roof and—come on. I want to take you to my apartment then because you're looking exceptionally pale and…"
The minute that Kurt had pulled Sebastian up to his feet to walk with him, Sebastian collapsed, head hitting the ground in what must've been an earth-shattering pain as Kurt leaned down to look at him. Kurt had seen Mercedes walk in. "Kurt, I've been looking for you everywhere! I must tell you that Sebastian's weight is quite bluntly worrying the entire staff because he's six-foot-two and only weighs a hundred and sixteen pounds and—"
Mercedes realised Kurt's dismay, seeing him stare down at Sebastian's body. Kurt slowly picked him off the ground and when he realised how easy it was; Kurt looked up at Mercedes with sudden tearful eyes. "I need you to get the keys to Rachel's flat. It's a two hour drive to mine but it's a three minute walk to hers."
The walk was still too long. Kurt had realised he didn't care that he could hear his stepbrother in the room snoring as he placed Sebastian against the couch, his hands roaming around that face. Had he been a fool? To not see the deathly pallor, the blue tinge to his nails right now, and his malnourishment. To come to this state in only three months must meant that Sebastian had been doing some hardcore starving. To lose a whole thirty or so pounds in three months was enough to mean that Sebastian was bluntly starving himself, especially for the amount of exercise and expenditure he had to do. Sebastian can be burning double whatever he usually expended with rigorous long-hour dancing sessions.
In half an hour, Sebastian was coming to it especially when Kurt decided to splash water. He waited for Sebastian to overreact, and threaten to punch him – because that was the Sebastian he knew, but he looked so tired and exhausted that Kurt's heart went for him. Kurt had pulled out a protein bar for him that Finn had usually kept around to keep himself fuelled. "It's chocolate and peanut butter," Kurt tried to make it more appealing.
Sebastian stared at him and with the most apologetic eyes, he looked back up at him.
"Sit up," Kurt demanded and Sebastian did. Kurt slid beside him as he opened up the bar for him. "You need to eat this, Sebastian. Actually, you need to eat more than this and I will cook for you in a moment but your blood sugar must be abnormally low."
Sebastian stared at the bar for the longest period of time.
"Sebastian, don't make me shove this down your throat," Kurt said adamantly.
Sebastian looked up at him, frustrated and Kurt smiled as Sebastian delicately took the bar from him. Kurt told himself that nothing had changed and Sebastian was just really tired and sick right now. He watched Sebastian eat the bar quietly. "Don't stare at me, Kurt, I fucking hate it when you do that, or I'll be inclined to shove this whole thing down your goddamn throat."
Kurt smiled weakly. "Dahlia, I'm inclined to shove Rachel's entire pantry down your 'goddamn throat', so finish that. Salmon or chicken? I'm making pesto spaghetti by the way, garnished with basil and Parmesan."
Sebastian stared at Kurt for a moment. He fucking hated salmon.
By the time that Kurt had looked around the kitchen, he announced there was no salmon and they were having chicken. Sebastian grimaced at the thought of eating more calories, but a part of him was relieved because he wanted it. The want made him disgusted, and the disgust weighed him down as if he had gained sixty pounds all on his own. It was the worst feeling in the world and Sebastian didn't want to feel it again. Except he knew he will. As long as he ate things that weren't, he'd feed disgusting and with disgust, came something worse than being fat, being out of control. Being reckless—
You ARE reckless, Sebastian. Reckless and fat and disgusting and keep on dancing, love because you're going to get nowhere. You will FAIL. You should just wind up DEAD. DEAD.
Tuesday morning, 22nd of May [6:00AM in Kurt's flat]
-assessment; two people, in the same flat, two different dreams, two different everything but above everything, they love each other -
Sebastian laid across from Kurt. He'd taken them to his apartment and Sebastian thought it was beautiful. Chandler was in England now, and Sebastian thought that meant his apartment was an absolute mess and it wasn't. It wasn't because Sebastian can't handle the mess. Jeremiah and him fought. He stayed with Blaine still, and he watched Blaine drink, binge, purge and hurt himself, but right now, Sebastian honestly did not care. The lack of emotion other than hatred towards Blaine scared him, but now, he wasn't scared of how different he was. Sometimes, he still was. Kurt stared at him from across the bedside, smiling at him.
Sebastian leaned down, burying his head in Kurt's neck. Kurt had kissed Sebastian's forehead.
"It smells like…" Sebastian murmured, as Kurt pulled out the offending flowers that had given them the scent. Sebastian took the bouquet of dahlias from Kurt whom smiled.
"I got Finn to get me some this morning. He wakes up five."
"I fell asleep," Sebastian said, voice full of incredulity, but it was also full of relief. It had been months since he'd fallen asleep and whilst he still felt restless, it was so beautiful to sleep again, to dream again. Fluffy dreams still marred his mind as Kurt had taken Sebastian to the kitchen, asking him how he liked his eggs, fluffy or thin, and if he wanted either butter or oil. Sebastian had made Kurt measure out a teaspoon of olive oil, making them two eggs, and wanted them fluffy so Kurt had to whip them and add a bit of flour anyway. The concoction was amazing fluffy and large and Sebastian found it astounding that Kurt was such a good cook. Kurt had put a nice amount of basil, feta and roasted tomatoes anyway and whilst it took Kurt quite some time, Rachel was just happy to leave them there and go instruct everyone on what to do, filling in Kurt's part.
"You're going to eat now when I'm not shoving food down your throat, right?" Kurt asked.
Sebastian shook his head. "I feel revolting. I love the taste of the food. I swear I do, but I'm as disgusting as shit."
Kurt bit down his lower lip and shook his head. He could not even bear to say the word, no.
"If you're gonna tell me that I'm as thin as a stick or some shit like that, or that I eat as much as a bird—"Sebastian was cut off with Kurt's adamant voice.
"No use in telling you what you don't want to listen to," Kurt's eyes were full of pain, that kind of pain that wasn't Sebastian's or Blaine's, the kind of pain that was spun of sympathy and love, something that Sebastian had never seen before and it was the kind of pain that twisted itself in Sebastian's heart. "I just want you to know that it kills me on the inside."
Sebastian felt completely sick right then. "I hate salmon," he said after a while.
Kurt smiled weakly. "I know. Did you really think Finn doesn't keep every kind of possible meat stalked in this kitchen regardless of his vegan girlfriend?" Kurt's smile still stayed on his lips, but it was the kind of smile that was spun on sadness, a kind of sadness that came from loving someone.
Sebastian was confused. "I never told you—"
Kurt cut him off. "You have this facial expression you do when you hate something that is nearly a grimace, which you subconsciously did when you told me you wanted the salmon. I'm a director only because I observe things to an abnormal extent, which is what kills me because I've been so blind to how fast you were losing weight, to how sick you were getting, to how close I am to losing you…what's that on your wrists?"
Sebastian pulled down the bands closer, cursing himself for cutting on somewhere visible. He should have stuck to his hips. Fuck. "Wrist, now," Kurt adamantly stated, as Sebastian had given him his wrist. Kurt had pulled off the band, to stare at the cut. Kurt's finger went through the band and Sebastian looked up to see Kurt. Apparently, the cutting was the last streak, because Kurt's face crumbled up completely. Sebastian's heart twisted into pain as he watched Kurt's eyes fill with tears. Kurt, whom hated being weak, whom hated being the victim, let Sebastian see him just at the most vulnerable. That same thought made Sebastian blink away tears as Kurt placed his hands around Sebastian's head.
Kurt had no words as he just shook his head. "No, no, Sebastian, no."
Kurt collapsed on Sebastian, Kurt's weight on top of Sebastian's as he cried into his chest. Sebastian stared at Kurt, unable to say one single word as he laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder with the only thought in his mind was that he made this beautiful angel cry.
Sebastian made Kurt cry and that was something Sebastian will never forget.
Sunday afternoon, 8th of June [4:00PM in the studio]
-assessment; the studio where the dancer and the director love each other and envy leaves its mark -
"So, what did Sebastian do?"
"Blaine, you're being insane."
"Did he sleep with you like the whore he is?"
"That is none of your concern."
"He did something."
"Blaine, you're drunk and you're irrational and you're close to losing your position."
"That's okay right now, Kurt. I don't want my position. I want you. I want you to love me. Don't you see it? Sebastian is going to die off anyway."
"Don't you dare say that."
"You know it. It's true."
"Your knuckles tell the rest of the story, Blaine. We were not nothing, we were something but Sebastian and I are everything—"
And that was when Blaine stumbled out of the studio. Kurt had followed him after. The whole hall had heard their quarrel and Sebastian was silent. Sebastian had always realised one of his main faults was that he was impulsive. He didn't know how bad that'll come to haunt him when they found out that Blaine had run into the middle of the street deliberately to get hit by a car. Blaine laid on that hospital bed, and he looked so close to death that it was horrible. It was all so horrible.
When Blaine woke up, he didn't look at Kurt nor did he look at Sebastian. Blaine looked at Sebastian with hot tears spilling from his eyes. "Remember when I came to you because a boy broke my heart?" Blaine said, as he chuckled. There was just so much Blaine into those eyes. Blaine was at peace with himself. He was paralysed and dying and he was at peace with himself finally, as if everything was clear and leading up to this moment.
Sebastian nodded his head. Blaine looked away. "We had sex, Sebastian." It was the first time anyone of them bought it up. "You were my first."
Sebastian nodded my head. "I was. It was a lot like Rose and Jack. I thought it—"
"Rose let Jack go at the end of the movie," Blaine said. "I let you go after I promise that I wouldn't." Sebastian bit down at his lower lip, shutting his eyes.
Sebastian gripped onto Blaine's hand, smiling at him. Blaine held a smile of death and his eyes glittered. Blaine was the beauty that Sebastian had fallen in love with years ago. Suddenly, the knuckles weren't as scarred and it slipped Sebastian's mind that Blaine had tried to end his life only an hour ago. Somehow, Kurt wasn't in the room and Blaine wasn't on a bed. Sebastian tilted Blaine's chin as Sebastian looked at him. "I lost you."
Blaine slowly nodded his head weakly.
Sebastian glared at his Mother but responded anyway. "More than anything else in the world, they took away Blaine before I can even say goodbye."
Sebastian slipped his hand against Blaine's cheek. "I was never your alternate," Blaine said, his voice soft. "I was you."
Sebastian nodded his head, shutting his eyes again as he gripped tighter around Blaine's hand. "Blaine?"
Sebastian laid down beside him on the bed, slipping his free hand across Blaine's cheek again, having Blaine look back up at him, with those soft confused eyes. Sober Blaine. Blaine who wasn't shoving his knuckles down his throat—Blaine. "I just wanted to be loved." Blaine whispered after a moment.
"You are loved, Blaine," Sebastian shut his eyes, as Blaine leaned upwards, planting a soft kiss on Sebastian's cheek.
"We're best friends, aren't we, Sebastian?" it was like all of the contempt they'd been feeling for years erased, almost like they were in high-school again when Sebastian had fallen in love with him and they spent their days eating bagels and watching reruns of TV shows neither of them really liked.
Sebastian nodded his head. He can feel it too. "Goodbye, Blaine."
Blaine smiled weakly, and then he let go. This time, it was for good. Sebastian didn't even realise that he was crying until Kurt had given him a box of tissues. "We've been sad a lot these past few days," Kurt said, as he himself had wiped away his eyes. Kurt harboured some love for Blaine – they were something, and they could've been everything but it wasn't the kind of everything Kurt wanted.
Sebastian snorted. "I'm not sad." He stared down at Blaine, whose face was completely peaceful. "He's happy. How can I be sad when Blaine is happy? He died the death of a swan, Kurt, beautiful, delicate, fragile…he died perfect, Kurt. That's all he ever really wanted."
Tuesday night, 26th August [7:00PM in the theatre]
-assessment; theatre – opening night: jitters, pain, relief but above all else, beauty -
The night was there. This was the night he'd been training for. He played both parts, both faces. He was perfect. He was reckless. He was everything. Kurt watched his lover perform his show. The story was different and Blaine would've wanted to see how successful it was, beautiful. Completely captivatingly beautiful, with this emptiness and full of bloodshed, some sort of beautiful – beautiful bloodshed… the last scene was a scene where the swan would kill herself, and Sebastian dropped down, landing to his 'death', with his body completely calm. Sebastian realised right then that the light was beautiful. He was decked in white. And on his outfit, there was one singular white dahlia shrinking off with its petals as the blood on his fresh cuts on near his navel pooled against it. Had he cut there? He'd forgotten. He'd forgotten about everything…
Kurt had ran up to him, with those soft eyes. "Hummel," Sebastian mumbled under his life, with a knowing smile on his lips. "I'm so perfect, so beautiful. Did you see me bleed? I was bleeding…"
Kurt curled his lips inward.
"I don't care what he dreams about. Blaine is not his dreams. Blaine is what he feels…"
Sebastian shook his head, and just before those eyes shut to some sick lullaby playing in his mind, he whispered, "I am what I feel… I don't feel anything…I am nothing…"
"Shh, you're beautiful." Kurt said, as he watched Sebastian's eyes smile at him. He was unsure how that worked but the eyes glittered happily.
"Make me beautiful," Sebastian whispered. "Make me bleed outside like I do on the inside. Make me perfect…pristine…empty…"
"…in all essence, to sing, to dance, to be beautiful has a price. It's the artist's soul. They would give it all in their beauty, and leave nothing for themselves. They will become an empty vessel. Some say it runs in blood. When a person is bleeding, they're alive. But an artist doesn't bleed. The audience bleeds for them. They live off the blood of others, but the sweat and tears of their own essence. An artist dances, and sings, and paints, until their dying day even unaware and even in death, they whisper a final song, an ending ballad. That final note, when all the blood has been lost, when the soul is dead, when the body is broken beyond repair…
is the only time when the artist starts truly bleeding."
Friday night, 1st December [7:31PM in a mental ward]
-assessment; mental ward; a room; a room with just one lost soul finding himself again and one that wants to know why -
"Why did you do it?" the therapist asked, as she squinted her blue eyes.
Kurt shut his eyes. "Because he wanted to bleed on the outside like he did on the inside. Because he wanted to be beautiful. Because he wanted to be perfect and empty." The therapist shut her eyes – Emily tapped against her clipboard for a while as Kurt smiled weakly, before explaining. "I used to buy him dahlias all the time. It was his favourite flowers. Never known they'd had to grow as mine. I used to call him dahlia."
Emily shut her eyes. "You used to call him a dahlia?"
"He was so tall and beautiful," Kurt said, still in reverie. "My Mother's name was Elizabeth. It seemed so fitting. She was my everything. He was my everything. You do realise a dancer doesn't die until his work is finished. Their deaths are simply the best performances. I simply finished it off. He killed himself. He cut too deep. He knew he was going to die. With Blaine, I had something. Then I lost him, but I still had Sebastian and he was my everything…but then I lost him too. And you must understand, when you lose everything, the world looks different. This was his last dying wish. I had simply done what he wanted me to do. He's happy now and that's all that has ever truly mattered to me."
She shut her eyes. "Why dismember him?"
"To drain him of the blood," Kurt laughed, but his laugh was empty. "Because he wouldn't stop bleeding. His work…his ballet…was so wonderful and it bled right through him."
"Why did you dismember him?" Emily repeated her question, eyes harder. "And then throw his body out in the public…with a smile carved in by your knife? Why re-enact such a gruesome death?"
"He was happy. I was just making it seem as if it was a permanent happiness so I carved in that smile. You must understand, a dancer always re-enacts things with their pain. He dies a dancer with a broken heart that is the equivalent of a senseless massacre," Kurt finally said.
Kurt shook his head. "He played the black swan, but I was a fool. He was no black swan, nor a white one. He was a completely different thing, something more beautiful."
Kurt looked up at the woman now; laughing a laugh so sad it meant that he was bleeding too, as hot tears filled his eyes. "He was my black dahlia."
I am incredibly sorry for the length of this, but if I broke it into two parts, it wouldn't have been as effective. :P I'm pretty sure you're used to insanely long fanfics from me right now. ^_^ This was perfect. The Black Swan ended the same way for Sebastian so I could not emulate the ending. I did warn for "gruesome murder". All in all, this was insanely fun to write, and insane all in all. :) It was dark and yes, yet again, Blaine somehow ends up killing himself. I wanted it to end the way it did. The ending was so fun to write. If you don't get the reference (doubtful but), The Black Dahlia murder, which is why Kurt mentioned "my Mother's name was Elizabeth and it seemed so fitting". Kurt practically re-enacted the murder as if it was a 'performance' to end Sebastian's life more 'beautifully' in this tragic, dark sort of twisted ensemble. Remember, their downfall was trying to play their parts and ending up becoming each other's alternates. When Sebastian said "Empty", which I emphasised on, Kurt did what he did: drain his blood, which technically made him "empty".
Here's one question: why was Sebastian's character change so abrupt? well, that was intentional. I wanted Sebastian to seem to develop an eating disorder out of nowhere. I wanted him to seem to develop an obsession out of nowhere because when he described Blaine changing he said "one day, he was Blaine and then he was not." :) there were many other questions but I forgot them but that was the one that bugged me the most. Plus, I would've definitely gone over 20,000 if I'd have done this more gradually xD.
This…was supposed to be shorter. Anyway. xo Peanut Butter/Sam