Tuesday

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"Everyday is an opportunity to fall or hurt yourself. "

- Dianna Agron

~K~

Tuesday.

One word hit Kurt hard yesterday, and it came out of his Father's mouth. What an easy thing to say. To deal but to not to deal in the same way. Grounded, he said, you're grounded, Kurt.

It started with bickering. It ended with yelling. Kurt had walked out of that conversation feeling oddly weird. He didn't care, he just needed something from his dad's words. Something he needed a long time ago. Little did Burt Hummel know, his hurtful words had only pierced his son as far as the other ones have. Nothing ever has gotten further than that.

Back to the present, and Kurt lays awake, spread-eagled on his naked mattress. His mind is as blank as a canvas, but one thought fogs his eyes; a blurry image. His mother. He knows it's stupid to wonder such things, especially the what if questions, but what if she was still here?

This facade, This new person Kurt has painted himself as, how long will it go on for? What does Kurt Hummel really want?

Kurt can't answer that question. As hard as he tries to be this person, there's someone somewhere in himself just begging to be released. Maybe that's just the theatricality of Kurt, or maybe it's just the fantasy fanatic in him, but the what if question always boils in the back of his head, just waiting to simmer over.

Kurt's room is filled with constant reminders of that what if question. The books on one side and that old, faded leather jacket on the other. Two sides of him. Two ways to be a person. Who knew Kurt Hummel, the heartless hooligan, can have such a crisis of emotions. The tears dripping past his ears don't faze the brunette. They taste and feel just like the feelings he had kept secret for so long.

~Sam~

"How is the new tutoring job going, Sam?" Sam's mother asks over the ruckus of an early morning breakfast. Stacy and Stevie sit across from each other, bickering about something or another; completely ignoring the conversation. Sam looks at his parents' wondering eyes and tries hard to make whatever lie he's about to tell them sound like a truth.

"Fine, uhh- Tony's doing better already." Sam nervously chuckles, "I've taught him basic fractions."

Mary Evans pauses for a second. Her eyes dig into her son's soul, "Wasn't it Brody you said you were tutoring?"

Caught in a lie. Hurry up and say something, Sam! She and him are suspecting something!

"He-likes-to-be-called-Tony." Sam says in one single breath. He stares back at his wide-eyed mother, "His middle name is Tony."

"Really?" Sam's dad chimes in, probably finished with today's newspaper. Sam nods his head. "So the boy you're tutoring, his full name is Brody Tony Meyers? Doesn't that seem weird to you?"

"Not at all. His middle name is his uncle's name, dad. What? Do you find it weird that his middle name rhymes with his first? aren't you a fan of that dude: Bryan Ryan?" Sam shovels more cereal into his mouth, praying that his dad would lay off.

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