i've never seen such clear skies, i've never seen such high hopes

[likesboys]

One of the first decisions Kurt makes about his band is that he wants it to start as a cover band. Most of the people he's talked to about joining have strengths in vocals and instruments, which is awesome, but also probably makes the prospect of composing melodies and music kind of overwhelming.

So, he figures they'll start smaller. Try to bring their own spin to songs they each love from home. (And, even though the thought makes him cringe, Kurt hasn't completely ruled out the idea of covering Tiffany Charlotte either, if it comes to that.)

He's on his way to Kate's apartment to go over some ideas for initial covers, a pair of heavy headphones over his ears as he flips through some of the classics. Everything from the super pop stars like Britney, through the classic untouchables like Freddie Mercury. He's got this idea that won't leave his head either, of how Kate could easily put on a Gwen Stefani kind of feel, high on the fashion and the punk attitude. But that really requires coming together to figure out a look, a feel, a way of testing the waters and helping her settle into her stage presence.

Jamming out to a Daft Punk number, Kurt bobs his head left and right and knocks smartly on Kate's door, tugging his headphones halfway off to be somewhat polite.

When he sees who opens the door, he blinks and brightens.

"Oh, hey! I came here for Kate, but I need to talk to you too," he says, smiling broadly. "How are you? Is this an okay time?"

Comments

[sciencesaggressively]

Newt's been bored as hell all goddamn day so when the knock comes at the door, he nearly trips over himself as he limps eagerly for the door, leaving his crutches behind because he totally doesn't need them. He doesn't need the cane he'll be upgraded to tomorrow, either, but apparently the doctors and Kate disagree. Okay, so by the time he gets to the door, he already feels like he's run a marathon and slumps against the frame but that doesn't stop him from grinning like a maniac when he sees Kurt on the other side.

"Dude, it's a great time," he answers, pulling the door open wider for Kurt. "Come in, please, save me from this lack of anything happening."

[likesboys]

"I remember when I was stuck on bed rest after a major lymph node infection," Kurt says with a small smile, pointing briefly to a scar on his neck as he steps inside. "So I'm sympathetic to your plight. I'm pretty sure I started chucking pillows at my dad towards the end. Not that it convinced him to let me out whatsoever."

Kurt tugs off his headphones, hooking them over the crook of his elbow and pausing the music on his phone.

"So. Most important question that I have to ask right now — Kate says you were part of a band before you went the research route?"

[sciencesaggressively]

Newt's eyes flicker to the scar but he just barely catches sight of it before looking away. He's had scars before, of course he has, but a good majority of them had been small enough to be pretty much covered up by his tattoos. He resists the urge to wrap an arm around himself, on the bad side, on the side with the new scar that he couldn't stop looking at while he'd been in the hospital. He can't cover this one up, it's long and it's ugly and it's a constant fucking reminder of everything he's trying so hard to forget.

That's not Kurt's problem, though. So Newt smiles, and it's not even fully forced, he's still genuinely for the company. He closes the door behind them and heads toward the kitchen because his throat suddenly feels so goddamn dry and he needs a drink of water. "Oh, hell yes, I was in a band," he says with a laugh, glancing over his shoulder at Kurt. "The Black Velvet Rabbits. Don't hate, I didn't come up with the name. Can I get you something to drink?"

[likesboys]

Kurt looks slightly surprised when Newt immediately turns away from his scar. Not that there's anything particularly interesting about his scar; it's small, easy enough to ignore with a passing glance, not especially interesting in terms of the story behind it either. Kurt himself has never really seen the point of lingering on those types of things, anyway. But part of him almost expected Newt to be... well. Accustomed to it, Kurt thinks.

Then again, given the attack, maybe not anymore.

"I might have given you more points if you were the Velveteen Rabbits," Kurt says wryly, stepping inside and trying to keep himself slightly quieter and more careful. He hasn't really seen Newt since the attack, aside from some visits to the hospital. All he remembers is the way Blaine gets when talking about the people who attacked him at Sadie Hawkins, even years later. "Water would be fine. What kind of music did you guys play?"

[sciencesaggressively]

There's a change, one that Newt maybe wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't feeling just a little self-conscious about the way he'd reacted to that scar. He knows it's stupid, knows it's stubborn, but he doesn't like the idea of people thinking he still needs to be treated like he's fragile. He's healing and yeah, some days are more difficult than others but that hardly comes as a surprise. It's not like he'd tripped and fallen on a goddamn butter knife, after all, he'd been attacked and it had been fucking brutal and--

He pulls the door to the fridge open a little rougher than he'd intended and stares at what's inside for too long of a beat before pulling out two water bottles. He lets the cool air rush over him, lets it help him get back to a place that doesn't involve thinking about That Night. "Rock 'n roll, man," he answers, shutting the door as he limps back to where Kurt stands and holding out one of the bottles. He ducks his head and lets out a little laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. "I'm going to be honest, we weren't great. Through no fault of mine, by the way, I remain awesome on the guitar. And the keyboard. Master of the bongos, too. But uh, yeah, our biggest fans were definitely our mothers."

[likesboys]

Kurt smiles as he takes the bottle of water, pleasantly cool against his palm. He stands, waiting for Newt to decide where he most wants the both of them to be. Although Kurt's inclination is to head for the couch, he's not sure what would be most comfortable for Newt over an extended period of time, and instead works on twisting open the bottle, the sound of cracking plastic cutting through the room.

"I should have expected rock 'n roll from you," Kurt says with a grin. "You've got the right kind of energy. And it's kind of hard to dissociate those tattoos with rock. Kate said that she's also got some experience on the guitar, and I know that I've got at least one person trying out for bass, so maybe keyboard would be good, if we want to cover all of our bases. But honestly, I just want to pull together a band to have fun. And to stop obsessing over everything else that happens around here, you know? I'm sure it surprises no one that I'd turn to music for comfort, but hey, predictable isn't always bad."

[sciencesaggressively]

Newt's quietly amused at the way Kurt seems to be waiting for him to make a move. He's never been shy about making himself comfortable in someone else's home, which maybe makes him kind of a tool but whatever, nobody ever complains. Then again, Kurt's politeness factor here probably has a lot to do with the fact that he'd shown up for Kate and had ended up with Newt. He heads toward the couch, lowering himself down and tossing the crutches aside before gesturing for Kurt to take a seat next to him.

"That's funny," he says, stretching his arms out in front of him and smiling down at the tattoos. It's been years since he'd completed his sleeves--the only time off he'd ever taken from working at the 'Dome had been to get his tattoos done--but he's still so proud of them. He'd worked with one artist, the only exceptionally talented one he could find who'd also been willing to ink him up with kaiju, on the designs and the placement and they flow onto his chest and back as one big portrait. It's fucking flawless.

"I mean, I am a total rock star but that's not why I got them. I'd be good with throwing you some keyboard jams, though. It's been awhile since I've played, it would be nice to get back on it. My colleagues at the lab hate me because I blast my music until someone inevitably freaks out. It just helps keep me focused, always has." Hermann had hated it more than anyone, he thinks with a small smile. Noise, Hermann had always referred to it as just noise. "But uh, yeah. I get what you're saying, there's been a lot going on lately."

He doesn't want to bring up the subject of Kurt's boyfriend, though he wants to ask Kurt how he's been holding up; Newt himself spends as much time as possible trying not to think about the attack and failing miserably. It never helps to have someone remind him.

[likesboys]

"Making music with others is probably the part of home I miss the most. Other than specific people, I mean," Kurt clarifies, knowing that more than anything else, he misses having his father around to encourage and guide him. He plops himself down right next to Newt, turning towards him as he leans against the back of the couch. "The only real extracurricular that I participated in during high school was show choir. And our coach was someone who would encourage us to just partner up and arrange some kind of performance, even outside of what we did for competitions. The interesting thing was how much that kind of became the place where we could communicate with one another. There's always some song out there to describe how you're feeling."

He grins bashfully, ducking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck. "That probably made me sound like a bit of a geek. But I thought, I miss the music and I miss being on stage. So a band seemed like the natural answer. I was putting up posters when Kate found me and ribbed me for not inviting her to join first. Honestly, I'm surprised no one's made fun of me yet for wanting to do something like this."

While he doesn't share it explicitly, there's a part of Kurt that still wonders whether or not someone like him can get across his own flair while also helping the band's popularity. The urge to conform to what he's seen popular male idols do is a heavy one. It might spare him a few laughs in the crowd to keep this flamboyant style on the down-low, Kurt thinks.

[sciencesaggressively]

"Hey, music is totally the universal language," Newt says. Kurt doesn't have to convince him the band is a good idea, Newt agrees wholeheartedly. He remembers spending time in the basement at home in Germany with his uncle, watching him pioneer the kinds of sounds and music that people had gone wild for, the kinds of sounds and music that revolutionized the beats DJs would play in clubs. Newt's mother had been an opera singer, his father an expert piano tuner; Newt gets it. "I've always wanted to prove that, y'know. Maybe that'll be the next project I pitch at the lab."

Until then, he'll be more than happy to be a part of the band in whatever capactiy Kurt wants him to be. He frowns, though, when Kurt expresses his surprise over the lack of mockery he's been getting for the whole thing because honestly, who the hell would make fun of him for wanting to put a band together? "There's nothing to make fun of," Newt says, which he sures Kurt knows but it never hurts to say it out loud. "But I'm with you, man. When I'm playing, it's like I'm in a whole other space. When I'm on stage, nothing can touch me." He shrugs, kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of them. "So much shit happens in this world. And, y'know, all the worlds we came from. Music's just another way to escape it when it gets to be too much."

[likesboys]

The idea of music as a universal language takes Kurt right back to the choir room, and the memories that surge forth almost make him want to laugh. The ache in his chest keeps him from doing so, but it's not an entirely unwelcome feeling. It's true that music drew all of them together in a way that nothing else really could — but music was also sometimes just as divisive as anything else. Their music tastes ran different, and for Kurt in particular, sometimes convincing people to give the old classics a shot was hard. (Possibly made doubly so by Rachel's own championing, as someone who Kurt was still convinced came off twice as aggravating to the unprepared mind.)

(He still loves her, though.)

Kurt settles into a softer smile at the memory, fighting off the lump in his throat. What he wouldn't give to fight a little with Blaine about Katy Perry's appeal as an artist right now.

"I feel like starting a band gets seen as one of those naive goals that everyone assumes won't go anywhere. Like, my god, you wouldn't believe some of the snobbery that comes from my classmates at university. All those people who claimed that cliques would stop after high school? Complete lie. I'm starting to feel like cliques will just continue for the rest of our lives. But, you're right, I think most people still like the escape of music in some form or another. It's just... cathartic. I don't know how to describe it."