About a Boy (Kurtbastian)

About a Cello

(a/n: The first four chapters of this fic will closely follow the plotline of the pilot episode of About a Boy, to the point where the dialogue is even the same in places. I'm sorry, and please bear with me. I take the story into my own control eventually.) 

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Sebastian Smythe was on top of the world.

The world had always been pretty kind to Sebastian. He formed a band straight out of college with a bunch of his friends, and although it didn’t last very long, he got his feet wet in the music industry. This resulted in him writing a Christmas song that completely took off (literally, the song was called “Runaway Sleigh”). As much as he hated the song, he kind of had to love it, because even years after it had debuted, Sebastian was receiving hefty royalty checks on a month basis. So now, thanks to his financial comfort, Sebastian was living the dream. He had no job to speak of, plenty of money, great friends, and a comfortable apartment in New York City, decked out with everything he could ever want.

So overall, life was pretty good.

Sebastian tried to remind himself of this whenever he was stuck anywhere with Quinn, his supposed best friend, for any amount of time.

“I was up all night trying to get the baby to sleep,” Quinn mumbled, tilting her head forward so her forehead pressed up against the cold metal pole holding her upright on the subway. “He’s much more colicky than the twins were. And of course, Puck was absolutely no help. Neither of us could get him to stop crying.”

“Did you try drugging it?”

“Its name is Mason,” Quinn said, matter-of-factly, looking up to glare at Sebastian, who wasn't even looking at her, focusing on something on his phone.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, content to ignore her.

It was silent for all of thirty seconds before Quinn began talking again.

“I’m so tired. I don’t think I’ve slept at all for the past six years. I’m pretty sure this is what death feels like,” she groaned.

Sebastian had heard this exact sentence at least twice every day for the past six years.

“You should have thought about that before you decided to reproduce,” Sebastian replied, not even looking up from his phone. It was the same response he had given at least twice every day for the past six years.

“I’ll have you know that caring for a child is the greatest honor a person can have.”

“I don’t know, Q. Can’t really get a Nobel Prize for parenting, try as you might.”

“Can it with the sass, Sebastian. I’ve had enough.”

“And I’ve had enough of your complaining, Fabray,” Sebastian retorted, looking up as the subway screeched and slowed down. It wasn’t their stop, but Sebastian stood up to grab a railing in case someone else needed his seat. Quinn, predictably, stayed put.

“Honestly, you don’t know how much our Sunday lunches mean to me. I swear, our time together is such a relief after -”

“Oh my God, Quinn,” Sebastian interrupted, clearly ignoring everything Quinn was saying. He pointed out the window of the train at a figure at the station, waiting at the bottom of an elevator. “Look.”

“I swear to God, Sebastian. If this is another cute guy, I’m married with kids. You know I can’t look.”

It was a cute guy. Of course it was a cute guy. But this guy wasn’t just cute. He was hot. This guy was tall, dressed in layers of black, but still short sleeved enough to see his arms, which were covered in tattoos. He was clearly fit, and his face looked like he was from a magazine. And that wasn’t even the best part...