1. A Light of Some Kind
i wish i didn't say half the stuff i say
i wish i could just learn to cover my tracks
i guess i'm not concerned about getting away
Kurt:
Phone calls are so impersonal. I want to talk to Mom to her face, but seeing as how -at least as last this Geography major remembers- LA is nowhere near where I live, it's that or smoke signals. The Venetian blinds in my hotel room are rustling and making that herrendous tatting sound from the breeze. It's an unusually cool day in July. Those are known to be of ill luck.
The phone rings.
"Ma?...yeah, s'me...Hi!...yes, I miss you too...I've been fine...yes, I brought plenty of undies...yes, of course I remember to shower...everyday...behind my, ears, I know...look, Ma...Ma, listen...Ma...I wanted to talk to you about something...no, everything's fine...I...Ma...listen...I'm....no one died, Ma...I'm not fired, Ma...well...if...if you let me finish...Ma...Ma...Ma, I'm gay."
Adam:
It's been six months since that night in New York, and if you think that it's been that fun since, I've got news for ya. People don't come out that quickly. Little did I realize that Kurt's closet was a walk-in, complete with secret compartments, a flight of stairs, and its own private bathroom. What I mean is, it's been a grueling task for this boyfriend of the year nominee.
But I love him. He knows that. I tell him everynight. If I didn't, I would have -a long time ago, just been like, "Look, Kurt, you want to deny who you are, go ahead. But I'm not going to be here to witness it." In fact, about a month ago, I said something to that effect, and since then, he's progressed quite nicely. But we still have a long way to go. You know, I'll let you in on a little secret. shhh. We still haven't slept together. And six months seems like a lot for the common fag, don't it? Jeff and Matt would have died of fatigue. I mean, sure, we SLEEP together, but we don't sleep together. I'm holding out until he's ready...I'm am so the boyfriend of the year.
Anyway, incase you we're wondering, that's why Vince let me decorate the guest lounge for tonight. Here's to six long months.
Kurt:
She's not talking. I've killed her with dissapointment.
"Ma...are you there...you're...oh, god...Ma, you're not crying, are you...Ma, no! I'm not trying to break your heart!...why?...I really can't answer that, I...when...well, I've known, for a long time, but I've just come out a few...what?...*sigh* No one made me gay, Ma, it wasn't those Hardy Boys...Ma, Goldust isn't even there anymore! How am I supposed to answer your questions if you keep interrupting me with new ones?...I'm sorry, Ma, I didn't mean to get loud...yeah, I'm still gay. Are you ok with it yet?...No? Well, there's really nothing I can do...ok...I have to go, Ma...bye."
I feel like a piece of me has died.
Adam:
My main obstacle is to get through tonight's match without spilling out the surprise. That's right, he doesn't know. This is the only time I'm greatful for Kurt's never remembering dates. I walk down the hallway, and find his dressing room. He's rather solemnly pulling up his bootlaces. "Honey, is everything ok?"
He looks up slowly, and shrugs. In Kurt-ese that means he's hurting. He would usually leave it at that but he's elaborating. "I called Ma today."
"Yeah?"
"I told her...about me..."
"Oh, shit...how did it go?"
He snickers wearily. "Guess. She asked me question upon question and wouldn't let me answer them. She cried. Finally, when she calmed down, I asked if she was ok with it. She said 'no'."
I closed my eyes and swallowed. When I opened them, I was on my knees in front of my disheartened love. "I am so sorry." He shrugged, brushed it off, and reminded me that I should get ready for my match. I couldn't think about my match. How could Kurt be in the mood for a party now. I was tempted to turn back and say, "Happy 6 months" but I just kept walking. A little while later, I went out the ring and lost.
THAT EVENING
Kurt:
I told Adam not to wait up for me as I really don't want to bog him down with my state of mind. I told him I'll see him at our room later. I couldn't help but feel like he wanted to tell me something. I should learn to trust that feeling. Last time I felt that, it turns our he wanted to tell me he liked me, remember? But anyway, I'm not good company now.
I pull into the driveway and park. I am greeted by one of the hotel workers as soon as I walk in. "Are you Kurt Angle?" he asks. I nod, chary. "Come this way." He brings me into the back hallway and directs me to the guest lounge. As I turn the righ corner I am confronted with Adam, his merry slew, and eight metric tons of confetti. "HAPPY 6 MONTHS!"
I cover my dropped jaw with my hand. "Oh no, I forgot!"
Adam laughs, comes forth, and hugs me. "Well duh! It was supposed to be a surprise, baby. I did this for you!" With that, I feign unadulterated happiness, drink champagne, eat sushi (for only Adam would be so bounteous), and am Elliott Templeton-like social.
At one point, Adam pulls me into a corner. "Kurt, I'm so sorry that what happened today is the same day as..."
I understand. "It's ok, honey. You didn't know...I'm umm...so I'm gonna go upstairs, now, ok?"
Adam:
I couldn't believe my ears. "W-Why?"
He gives me a look as if I had spoken to him in Armenian. "I haven't had exactly had the best of days today, Adam."
Perhaps not, but let us not neglect the apparent. "Excusez moi, aren't we forgetting something?"
Kurt:
Do you mean to tell me that he is going to undermine my situation with a comparisson? I say the first thing that comes out of my mouth, and I immediately after wish I hadn't. "What, your little shindig?"
'cause every time i try to hold my tongue
it slips like a fish from a line
they say if you want to play you should learn how to play dumb
i guess i can't bring myself to waste your time
Adam:
I step back, wholly insulted. So much so, I don't even raise my voice in retaliation. "Kurt, I spent a whole week planning this." At this point, everyone has stopped in mid- conversation to look and listen, like someone took the needle off a record. I wanted to turn around and tell them to mind their own fucking business, but it's not them I'm upset at.
Kurt's hands are wedged deep in his pockets, as they always are when he's at a loss for words. Or almost at a loss. "Whatever," he huffs, and walks out of the room, leaving me with uncomfortable guests and leftover maki.
LATER THAT NIGHT
Kurt:
I pretend to be sleeping when Adam opens the door to our room. He doesn't even turn on the light, but gets undressed, and climbs into bed, laying, facing the other way. A few moments pass, and I assume he is asleep. Suddenly I feel his intense stare upon me. "And don't think I don't know you're pretending to sleep."
" 'And'?" I retort. "Were you in the middle of a sentence?"
"Just the usual muttering. 'All the work I do, no recognition...' "
" '...damn his baneful soul...' "
"I wouldn't go that far...well, not now. At the moment you called my effort a shindig...I could have said a lot of things."
Adam:
I could have, but I think of myself as above infantile name calling. He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I feel a sorry coming on. Before he can, I let him know how I feel. "You know, I really did put a lot of work into this. And I know that phone call was a downer. But I was hoping that, aside from it just being an anniversary party, it would be something to cheer you up."
He looks at me cumbersomely. "I know."
"So what the hell did I do wrong?"
"Nothing." He thought for a moment. "But if I say I'm sorry, will you forgive me?"
Oh, if 'its' and 'buts' were dicks and nuts... "If I forgive you," I reply, "will you understand that that doesn't necessarily mean I'm not still upset?"
He peers down. "Of course."
Kurt:
Of course I understand, but I'm not happy either. I can't tell you how many arguements we've had insinuated by me, my insecurities, my one foot still clinging to the closet door. I think I'm becoming a burden...I think?! I am one.
yeah i'd rather have these things weighing on my mind
and at the end of this tunnel of guilt and shame
there must be a light of some kind
there must be a light of some kind...
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