Chapter Eleven

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So now, Kurt, Rachel, and I are looking through dress catalogs for Rachels wedding. It was a bit time consuming, but I had nothing else to do. We were currently at the Lima Bean while I was sitting on the right side of Rachel, tea in hand.

"Oh this... look at this one. Oh, it's so timeless. It's perfect," Rachel said, pointing to a dress. I couldn't honestly care because I could get my mom to make her a dress, but she refused that offer.

"Yeah, timeless, meaning you can wait two or five years to wear it," Kurt replied. I guess he was still going on about this.

"Don't be jealous," Rachel muttered. Just as I thought things were going snazzy, it became dweeb rush hour because one little prick decided to speak up.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't young Barbra Streisand, pitchy Mariah Carey, and old Betty White, Where is Gay Cyclops? Still trying to stumble his way in?" Sebastian asked, his famous smirk across his face. I rolled my eyes.

"Dude, you should know, the whole time I was with my mom, technically I wasn't, I was in the woods. Training to kick your ass, Limp Dick," I muttered.

"We can't come here anymore," Kurt said to Rachel and I.

"Rachel, I, uh, brought you an engagement gift," Sebastian said, passing her a cream envelope.

"Hold on, it might be cloroformic gas that is now actual gas... So he might be planning for you to open it and we all get knocked out, taken back to his evil lair, and get raped one by one. Kurt, you're going first, I want to keep my virginity," I looked over to him, a serious look on my face. Kurt twisted his into a horrified look and Rachel just rolled her eyes. "It might be a booooomb," I said in a fake ghost voice.

"Shut up, Joey. Open it, Rachel," he goaded. She opened the envelope and I saw the- oh my god. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. That is only pictures Rachel can look at. I guarded my eyes and glared at Sebastian.

"You're sick, Limp Dick," I muttered. He smirked once more.

"Whoa, oh, whoa, whoa!"

"Oh my god! Oh no, that is... that is photoshopped! His thing is not that small or... or brown," Rachel said. I stared at her incredulously. She saw his down parts!? Ew, not thinking of that, not thinking of anything now.

"And he could never fit in those pumps," Kurt replied. I stared at him too.

"Oh my god, and here I am, scarred for my life, because I've never seen a dick before. Let alone my friend's photoshopped fiancees!" I exclaimed.

"Just think, from now on until eternity, everytime someone Googles Finn Hudson, they'll be treated to that and dozens like it. That's the beauty of the Internet. It stays with us forever," Sebastian said, a cocky tone to his voice.

"What do you want, Sebastian?" Rachel asked, getting irritated.

"I want a guaranteed Regionals win, so I want you to drop out. McKinely gets home-court advantage this year. You're going to come down with the Asian bird flu or whatever Tina-Blowing-Wang just had," he replied. My mouth dropped in shock. That's a new low, a really new low, even for Sebastian... Wait, nevermind.

"But that is show choir terrorism," Rachel retaliated.

"You give a bad name to the entire gay community," Kurt spoke up. Cough, cough, he's bi, cough, cough.

"And you give the gay community cutting-edge fashion that's usually only seen on Puerto Rican pride floats," Sebastian replied. I placed my hand on my head and shook it back and forth. This boy is gonna drive me crazy.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I was distracted by your giant horse teeth," Kurt played off smoothly. I chuckled and Sebastian snapped his head towards me.

"And what about you, Tighe, is your dad still an Irish drunkard who beats his child?" he fired at me. Que left eye twitch and a bitch dying in three... two... one. I got up quickly, but Kurt grabbed my arm, saying it wasn't worth it.

"Whatever, Fake Dildo, we all know your not the man your mother is," I fired back.

"You have 24 hours to drop out, Rachel, or I press the upload button," Sebastian threatened. I crained my neck and saw that Rachel was in a dilamma, so I decided to fix it for her. I stood up, picked up my hot tea, yes hot tea, and poured it down the wicked little bitch's blazer jacket.

"And you have four minutes to get the hell out of here, Limp Dick, or I call a good ol' pal of mine to help me kick your ass," I threatened.

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And so here we are now, in the club room, with Finn staring at his penile photos. Finn looked enraged, so enraged he said, "That's it. I'm done. I'm leaving this classroom, and I'm gonna beat that Sebastian kid's ass," and got up to leave.

"Finn, chill-"

"No, I'm not gonna chill. I-I'm done chilling!" he exclaimed.

"The official show choir rule book states that "any real or perceived threat of violence, vandalism, or humiliation will be met with a swift and unquestioned disqualification of the rivaling team with extreme prejudice. It's right here. Page 72, bylaw 15, section six, article 44," Artie informed.

Then Mr. S went on about 'contacting the Dalton headmaster, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.' Nothings going to be fixed unless I go fix it. I rolled my eyes and got up, left the room, and started my way towards Dalton Academy. This'll be a fun and intriguing game. After all, isn't that what Sebastian wants? A game?

Just as I stepped onto the grounds, I noticed boys staring at me. I then looked down at my clothes and noticed I was only wearing a tank top, a zip-up jacket that was unzipped, and low cut shorts. I zipped up my jacket and made my way inside the school, earning a couple cat-calls on the way. I caught sight of Sebastian talking to who I asumed was Nick. I pulled Sebastian away and slammed him up against a locker.

"So we're gonna play dirty, huh? How would you like it if I posted a picture of you online with a vagina since you're such a pussy. Photoshopping!? Really!? Where was the Sebastian I met the day in my art studio? Where did he go?" I yelled in his face.

"Shut up, Joey," he murmured. I didn't listen.

"What happened to the Sebastian Smythe that was nice in that studio, huh? Was it all a lie? A huge lie!? Was that it, was it all in your game!? Get rid of the photo, Smythe, or it'll be worse than a yelling from me," I shouted in his face. I backed up and slapped him straight across the face. "There, think of that as a gift from me to you. From bitch to bitch."

I ran out of the Academy, wiping my eyes that had tears developing. No. No, stop it. I have to stop.

This has to stop.

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