It's not just that he can't. In less than a few months, he's morphed from a fucks anything that moves kind of guy into a boyfriend. Not only a boyfriend, but a boyfriend to two different people, one of whom is his best friend and the other half of his band [his business partner, so to speak]. Quinn expects more of him because he was stupid enough to tell her that he was done with the groupies, and it feels as though Sam is constantly trying to make him choose the winner of Sam vs. Quinn, and that's a game that nobody can really win. When he chooses Quinn, it's public, and it's safe, because nobody is gonna fault him for being with the chick who had his baby back in high school. She's cute and respectable and supportive. When he stops choosing Quinn and publicly chooses Sam, all of that goes away. Maybe everybody is about It Gets Better and Acceptance and No H8, but he knows that if word got out, they wouldn't be their band anymore. They'd be Homo Explosion.
There goes the fame. There goes doing what they love and getting paid for it. There goes that big break that they were lucky enough to get, that most people - people with talent bigger than they have - don't ever get. There goes everything that they've worked so hard to accomplish. They'll be a joke. Maybe he'd been a delinquent at McKinley, not worth much, but time and opportunity has made him more dedicated to his music, to his future, to giving money to his mom so that she doesn't have to work her ass off anymore the way she did when he and Hannah were kids.
There it all goes for something that might not even last them. Rachel, Quinn, everybody... they all bailed eventually.
On top of it all, Sam is drunk, so it's not even worth arguing with him.
I can't. He can't for so many reasons.
"You're drunk," he counters, his voice short. "Look, we can talk about this when you're not poking me and telling me how much you love me and trying to kiss me in front of fuckin' everybody. You're drunk, and Q took off 'cuz she's pissed at me, and I had to carry you out of there, and my head is fucking killing me and I need it to stop. If you remember any of this shit in the morning, we can talk about it, but I can't do this tonight. I can't do this right now. Tomorrow, dude. We gotta just sleep it off. Almost home, and then I'll get your ass into the shower and get you into bed, okay?"
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Date: 2011-08-17 02:53 am (UTC)There goes the fame. There goes doing what they love and getting paid for it. There goes that big break that they were lucky enough to get, that most people - people with talent bigger than they have - don't ever get. There goes everything that they've worked so hard to accomplish. They'll be a joke. Maybe he'd been a delinquent at McKinley, not worth much, but time and opportunity has made him more dedicated to his music, to his future, to giving money to his mom so that she doesn't have to work her ass off anymore the way she did when he and Hannah were kids.
There it all goes for something that might not even last them. Rachel, Quinn, everybody... they all bailed eventually.
On top of it all, Sam is drunk, so it's not even worth arguing with him.
I can't. He can't for so many reasons.
"You're drunk," he counters, his voice short. "Look, we can talk about this when you're not poking me and telling me how much you love me and trying to kiss me in front of fuckin' everybody. You're drunk, and Q took off 'cuz she's pissed at me, and I had to carry you out of there, and my head is fucking killing me and I need it to stop. If you remember any of this shit in the morning, we can talk about it, but I can't do this tonight. I can't do this right now. Tomorrow, dude. We gotta just sleep it off. Almost home, and then I'll get your ass into the shower and get you into bed, okay?"