everybody's got a dark side

Once he was out of sight he took a breath and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and thinking about everything that had happened that day. For a long while he was terrified, but being with Blaine helped. He knew that while Blaine was with him Karofsky couldn’t touch him- but Blaine couldn’t be around at every moment, and Karofsky chose those moments to bully him. This time was worst. It was a lot worse than a locker check or a shove to the ground- Kurt was afraid in that moment that Karofsky could have done much worse to him

When he heard Blaine come from the kitchen, Kurt shook out of his thoughts and smiled a little. He loved seeing the warmness in his cheeks- he looked like a blushing teenager.  He followed Blaine upstairs and smirked a little, counting each step in his mind, “It’s like you’re a relative of the Crawleys,” he said, knowing Blaine wouldn’t get the pop culture reference, but it was another bullet point in the long list of things he needed to catch Blaine up on. He had a feeling Blaine would love to watch the drama that took place in Downton Abbey.

His mind was swimming with different things he could do to the house as he followed his boyfriend down the hall and through the doors of his room. He stopped when he realized they’d reached their destination and blushed, his eyes looking at the bed and then around the room, “It’s nice,” Kurt said softly, “could use a little work, but it fits you, too.” He paused, “I really should bring over the shadow boxes I bought and we can put some together for your room.” He took a step closer to the bed and blushed, “You’ve never? Not even when you were human?” he asked, walking across the room to the old fashioned record player.  He smiled and ran his fingers over it and then looked at the records, “Disco, Blaine? Really?” He smirked and shook his head, “don’t ever tell the Glee club, they’ll mock you endlessly.” His fingers moved across the sides of the records. They stopped on the Beatles and his  breath caught in his throat. He pulled it out and looked down at it, closing his eyes for a minute, “My mom used to play this album when I was younger.  She’d always sing In My Life in the softest voice. It was perfect.”

"Disco's great. You should give it a chance," he encouraged, leaning his weight against a bedpost and watching Kurt with a smile. He could sense the change in the other boy's demeanor the instant his fingers hit the record. Blaine tipped his head to the side, an enquiring motion almost bird-like in execution. 

"Kurt?"

A beat. 

Softly. "Oh." He followed in Kurt's footsteps as he moved away and picked up the record in question, sliding the disc free with practiced care and setting it on the track; tipping the needle down with a scratch of vinyl before familiar chords rang out. Blaine approached the other boy from behind, stopping close and holding a hand out so it entered Kurt's line of sight. 

He studied the curve of the other boy's neck, the dip where it would meet his shoulder were his shirt not covering it; basked for a moment in the sweet scent of him, in the warmth radiating from his body even through layers of clothing. 

"Dance with me?" He offered quietly, his palm turned up in question, fingers braced to curl over the other boy's and draw him around and into an easy stance. It felt a very long way from the high school and Karofsky's bruising kisses. There was safety here in the warmth of Blaine's bedroom with its old fashioned hat stand and dusty records. Even Blaine seemed surer of himself here in his own home, in the space that was his and had been his once, when he was still a boy like Kurt was now. 

Full of hopes and dreams for the future, mind clouded with the every day concerns of the living, of someone with their entire life spread out before them. There was also something to pity in the rich furnishings, they were the objects and settings of a boy's bedroom without doubt but there were no hints to who Blaine was; only that he'd been a child with talents for sport and performance; that he'd liked to collect things; Playbills were neatly set on a bookshelf beside old, dog eared paperback novels and a few faded toy cars. 

The only hints at this new life he was living were the schools resting on a chair; the clothing peeking out of his wardrobe; bright colors against the duller wallpaper within. 

The entire ride to Blaine’s, Kurt’s knee was bouncing as he glanced out of the window of Blaine’s far from restored car.  He knew his dad would love to get his hands on it, and part of hi wanted to tell Blaine that, but he didn’t quite have the voice yet.  When he felt the car slow, Kurt glanced ahead and smiled just a little when the gate opened. Maybe he would be safe- as safe as he could get by spending time with a vampire at his home.  Blaine didn’t frighten him, though. Which said a lot about Karofsky. 

Once the two got out of the car and headed inside Kurt’s fear melted away.  Karofsky couldn’t hurt him here. He relaxed, squeezed Blaine’s hand and smiled softly, “Just you. All I need right now is you.” He paused, “and maybe a diet coke,” he smiled softly and followed Blaine, his eyes drifting to the architecture of the house.  It was absolutely gorgeous and immediately Kurt thought of the interior decorating he could do. He’d have to offer his services to Blaine later. 

Kurt shook his head as the estate split and smirked to himself, “I feel like I’m aboard the Titanic or something…” he whispered as they made their way into the kitchen, watching as Blaine opened the fridge.  He found himself glancing round at the kitchen, his eyes finding the bags of blood in the fridge.  “You know, you should really let me help you decorate this place. You have amazing things to work with you just need a little nudge in the right direction,” he said, feeling as if he was imposing by looking over Blaine’s shoulder.

In all the ways that counted, he very much was a seventeen year old boy ducking his head and grinning at the fact he had a boy in his house for the first time. That he was about to have one in his bedroom, too. Old fashioned sensibilities aside there was a kind of excitement to that even Blaine couldn't completely conceal. "I'd love your help decorating," he enthused softly, taking out a bag of blood from one of the wire hangers and a diet coke, passing the bottle over and holding the satchel for a moment awkwardly between his hands; squeezing at the liquid within as it sluggishly moved around the plastic. 

"Um," he looked over at Kurt from under dark eyelashes, his brow knitted. "Why don't you take a look around while I - " He swallowed and wondered if there was any way to tell your boyfriend to avert his eyes while you consumed bagged blood that wasn't 100% awkward. "This won't take me long, I just want to be sure I'm not - " his eyes fell to the pale expanse of his boyfriend's neck then returned to meet his eyes, smiling tightly.

"Distracted."

Blaine hurried to fetch a navy mug from his cupboard, tearing the seal off the top of the bag with his teeth and pouring the thick liquid into it. He set it inside the microwave and quickly keyed in a 30 second cycle. Tucking his hands in his pockets and fighting the urge to fidget. It wasn't that he was embarrassed, though perhaps that was part of it too, but he was ridiculously aware of the heavy copper smell of the blood as it heated, pervading the kitchen. 

His gums began to ache. 

He drank it quickly, swallowing several mouthfuls of warm blood and fighting the temptation to lick his lips; settling for discreetly wiping them as he rinsed the cup and set it in the sink. Anderson Estate had several bathrooms, there was a smaller set off from the kitchen that had once been for the servants usage. The vampire snuck inside it and pulled out one of several boxes of toothpaste he'd procured just in case he ever had to put up appearances for guests. Breath minty and his cheeks flushed, giving him the appearance of the boy he passed himself over to be in public, Blaine located Kurt and politely urged him to follow. 

Up the staircase and down a long corridor, the floor was carpeted here in a red crimson, dotted with small side tables and a few ornate landscape portraits. Despite Blaine's attempts at restoring the estate, the air retained a faint mustiness. The mildew of time and long neglect. Down the end of the hallway, one door stood partly closed and, standing to one side to open it, Blaine smiled and gestured his boyfriend through ahead of him. 

Blaine's bedroom was richly furnished, the walls panelled in a dark green with white detailing; a bed took up most of the space; sheets pulled up and throw pillows settled atop it. The window stood open and through the curtains they could both hear the distant hum of Lima at its daily grind. An idle breeze toying with the curtains every few minutes. 

Blaine hastened to clear a few pieces of clothing from a chair beside his bed and then returned to linger at the foot of it; eyes on Kurt as he explored the inner sanctum of his vampire boyfriend's home. "I've never had anyone up here before," he offered, laughing shortly and scratching at the back of his neck. 

Sighing, Kurt looked over at Blaine’s hand and smiled sadly at his own sandwiched between the two.  He slowly let his head move to Blaine’s shoulder and closed his eyes; letting the motion of Blaine’s thumb against his hand soothe him. It surprised him how one touch from Blaine could calm him down immensely.

“It’s not your fault,” Kurt whispered after Blaine spoke, “you couldn’t have known. No one…” he shook his head, and glanced down again, “no one could have guessed he would do something like that,” he finally said, not able to say the words again.  He bit his lower lip and shook his head, hoping that he wouldn’t try anything again if he passed the jock in the hallway.

Kurt looked over at Blaine when he heard the soft clang of the locker, his chest rising when Blaine asked his next question. Quickly, Kurt shook his head, “N-no. If I report him people will know. I don’t want more of a target on my back.” He looked down and shrugged, “and I don’t want anyone to know he did that to me.”

Slowly, Kurt pulled his hand away and let his hands rest on his face and his elbows on his knees for a moment. Then, he wrapped his arms around his legs, as if cocooning himself from the seriousness of the situation.  Finally, Kurt looked over at Blaine, “I just…I want to get out of here. I want to forget this happened.” He closed his eyes, took a breath, and moved his forehead to Blaine’s shoulder, trying to calm himself down again.

“Can we just go? Can we go to your place?” He said, pulling his head away and looking in Blaine’s eyes, hopefully. “I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on anything else today, especially since I have a class with him later on.”  He swallowed thickly.  Kurt didn’t know how he was going to be able to face the guy again, “I just…I can’t see him right now.”  He didn’t know why he was so terrified. Maybe it was the fact that Karofsky’s grip really did hurt him.  His jaw still felt hot from where his bully had gripped him.

Kurt glanced down and shook his head, “He was just…really strong, you know?” Kurt said softly, his eyes welling up with tears again. He moved his shoulder upward and slid his cheek across the fabric of his shirt, trying to catch the tears and hopefully stop himself from crying.

"Yeah. Let's get out of here."

He pushed himself to his feet and silently held his hand out to Kurt, gripping it tightly once he had it and not letting go until they were clear of the school and standing beside his car. It was still a work in progress, the doors scratched and dented, creaking as he pulled them open and they settled inside. It smelled like varnish, the leather seats newly polished and a pine tree air freshener dangling from the rear view mirror, faintly offering the sweeter aroma as the car began to move. 

As one would expect: Blaine was an excellent driver. Cautious and prone to staying under the speed limit, he drove with the total focus a professional racer might offer, casting occasional glances at the boy beside him. When they pulled up to Anderson Estate, a porch light winking at them from beyond the grand gates, Blaine eased up on the gas and reached out to punch a few numbers on a small keypad beside the intercom he'd had installed. 

The iron gates rumbled to life and slowly swung apart; the car passing between them and vanishing beneath the shadowy canopy formed by large, overhanging trees that were planted along the curve of the drive to the estate's main doors and had remained standing long after the original owners, Blaine's parents, had abandoned it. Once they were inside, Blaine taking Kurt's bag and coat and hanging his jacket up on the stand, the vampire's demeanor seemed to shift; his body relaxing now that he was on his own turf; Kurt far from Karofsky's reach. 

"Can I get you something?" 

Blaine's hands found Kurt's shoulders, sliding down to lightly circle his waist and pressing in with the tips of his fingers against his hip. Light, comforting touches that ghosted along his skin through his clothing before they were gone; his tone as comfortable as Blaine now seemed to be in his skin. "C'mon." He tugged Kurt forward with a smile twitching the edge of his mouth, leading the way down a hallway that opened up into a majestic sitting room; a chandelier sparkling from the ceiling and several large landscape paintings hanging from the walls of what appeared to be Lima throughout the generations. In a far corner was Blaine's piano, music open on the stand and the heavy folds of the curtain drawn open at the corner and roped off to flood the room with afternoon sunshine.

Beyond the glass was the impressive courtyard and grounds that had made Anderson Estate such a formidable and long lasting source of interest to the town. There was a fountain spilling a stream of water high into the air from the mouth of a school of leaping fish and a row of hedges that were all neatly trimmed surrounding nearly every walkway, freshly planted flowers in large ceramic pots littered the balcony, a pair of yardman's gloves and a rake suggested the vampire himself had been at work restoring some of his home's former glory. 

From the sitting room into another large, handsomely furnished room littered with maroon sofas and a wide, grated fireplace Blaine led the other boy, heavy white sheets still covered some pictures where they'd been left propped against walls and there was a faint, musty smell as they passed imposing shelves of what must have been Blaine's father's library once upon a time. With the sheet half tugged loose, there was an impressive portrait that looked as if it had once been hung over the fireplace. Kurt could barely see the hint of a young boy's smiling face and hands placed on his shoulders before they exited and came out onto marble floors.

Here the estate split off, with a staircase leading up to, presumably, the bedrooms and second floor guest quarters. Blaine moved toward a set of swinging doors and abruptly, they were inside a spacious, if slightly old fashioned, kitchen. A serving bench ran clear down the middle of it with preparation areas dotted around the edges. The microwave and toaster, along with a silver refrigerator stood out as the lone modern inserts into the space.

Blaine pulled open the door.

A selection of bloodbags hung from the middle rack. Set into the side door were a selection of sodas and other odds and ends. Human food, some misplaced for its proper intention. Blaine held out a bottle to Kurt and closed the door.

When Blaine touched him his immediate response was to recoil away, and he did; not because he was scared of Blaine, but because of what had just happened to him.  Never in his wildest imagination did he think Karofsky was capable of something like that.  He knew Karofsky was a bully, and he knew his entire high school career was going to be locker checks and gay slurs. It was something he dealt with since he was a freshman, and while it got worse this year, it also got easier, because he had Blaine. He had someone to confide in and talk with. Someone who understood- as much as a century old vampire could. What he didn’t expect, was the fact that Karofsky’s lips pressed against his in an anger filled passion.  He didn’t want to feel that sort of kiss, not when his first kiss with Blaine, his first real kiss, was still fresh in his mind.

As if on cue, Kurt snapped out of his daze and looked at Blaine, throwing his arms around his boyfriend and holding him close, letting the tears behind his eyes spill down his cheeks.  He held on as tight as he could and moved his face to bury it in Blaine’s neck. He wanted the memory of Karofsky’s lips on his to go away, but it was all he could really think about.

What Blaine had asked finally registered in his head, but he still remained silent; letting out a breath and resting his chin on Blaine’s shoulder for a few moments. He was scared, not in Blaine’s arms, but of what could happen if he was cornered again and of what Blaine could do to Karofsky if given the chance. He could see the anger in his eyes when he’d finally registered that Blaine was there, earlier, and he knew it would only get worse.

When Kurt finally pulled back, he shook his head, and laid it back against the lockers and letting out a few deep breaths to try to calm himself down, “I went after him. He knocked me into some lockers, s-so I went after him and I asked him what his problem was.”

“It’s my fault. I-I shouldn’t have pushed him. I shouldn’t have kept yelling at him.”

Kurt closed his eyes and then let out a deep breath, finally looking at Blaine, “He kissed me. He pushed me against the locker and kissed me.”  As if the words stung him, Kurt looked away from Blaine, almost as if he was ashamed of what had happened- like it was somehow his fault. He knew deep down it wasn’t but he couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes.

He could feel Kurt against him, could register as if through a heavy fog that he was speaking but those three words permeated everything else; seeping through like a bloodstain: he kissed me. 

The image of it, of Karofsky's meaty hands all over Kurt's body, his face, his mouth was enough to have his demon raging. Cursing and growling and snapping at the confides of its cage. It wanted to hunt the other boy down and rip him limb from limb; roll around in his anguish and show him exactly who was in charge. No more simpering and silent endurance; he'd make the torture last.

Except it wasn't just the monster in him that wanted to chase down the other boy and make him pay for causing Kurt pain; for the fear and shame Blaine could see in his red eyes, in the tremble to his swollen, abused mouth. It was Blaine, too. He wondered if that made him more human than ever - or more monster. 

"No." Blaine's tone was firm, brooking no disagreement as he settled down beside Kurt; drawing his knees up and resting his arms over them; one hand eventually reaching to hold Kurt's. 

"It's not your fault. You were standing up for yourself." Blaine lowered his chin; jaw clenching at the anger he could feel, simmering under his skin. "Hey, okay?" He turned his face, fingers tracing over Kurt's jaw down to his chin, urging him to look up and meet his gaze. "You aren't at fault here. It's Karofsky." 

He spit out the name. 

The other boy was quiet then for some minutes, holding Kurt's hand between both of his; captured and held as if to anchor Kurt back into the present with him and away from the turmoil of what he'd just been through. Blaine's palm was comfortingly cool; his thumb drawing a slow stroke back and forth over the edge of his knuckles as he frowned down at the floor. 

"I guess we know why he's been picking on you, now." The vampire laughed; a brief, ugly sound and shook his head once, disbelieving. "I can't believe I didn't see it. I mean, I knew there was something wrong with how he looked at you. Like he - wanted you." Blaine glanced over at Kurt, tracing his features with dark eyes, full of brindled anger and possessiveness. "I guess I just let myself believe that wasn't it. I should have done something before this. I could have stopped him from - " He broke off; letting his head fall back against the lockers. 

Kurt looked down at his phone, his lips twitching upward at the name on the screen.  He’d stupidly put two hearts on either side of “Blaine” earlier that morning in math class. Every time he looked at the name it made his heart flutter just a little.  He was new to the whole dating thing, but Blaine made it easy. He was sweet and handsome, and…not completely human.  The supernatural thing was something that left Kurt confused.  He’d known about Blaine for a while now, and it didn’t matter to him, but at the same time there was always this thought in the back of his head.

He wondered what would happen when he grew older and Blaine stayed the same, and he wondered if Blaine could or did feel that same way he felt.  If his heart swelled or he got butterflies in his stomach. The connection they had couldn’t just be one sided, he knew Blaine felt something, and he knew Blaine liked him, but he wondered how deep those feelings ran at time.

Letting out a soft sigh, Kurt headed towards his locker, his eyes catching the word “Courage,” on his iPhone- a note sent from Blaine last hour when he’d divulged how Karofsky shoved past him.  He hadn’t been that bad today, which was good since the bruises on his side from yesterday were still sore.

As if on cue, Kurt felt a hard shove and sharp pain as the side of his head and his shoulder hit the locker. He winced, looked over his shoulder at Karofsky and slumped against the locker. He didn’t know how or why he’d become stronger lately. There were times when his bully looked so weak and then there were times like this where he felt like Karofsky could throw him the length of a football field.  Once Kurt regained focus, he pushed himself off of the locker and followed Karofsky. He needed to start standing up for himself. He needed to rise against the bullying. Against Karofsky. 

“Hey!” Kurt yelled, throwing the locker room door open, “I’m talking to you!”

“The girl’s lockeroom’s next door.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and looked at Karofsky pointedly, “What are you so scared of?”

“Besides you sneeking a look at my junk?”

Kurt had always dealt with homophobia and nine times out of ten it came from Karofsky.  When he’d been on the football team he’d heard the snickers and the whispers when he would change before and after games. It’s not as if he wasn’t used to it, but in that moment it made him more angry than usual. “Oh yeah every straight guys nightmare. That all us gays are secrety out to molest and convert you. Well guess what, Hamhuck? You’re not my type. I don’t dig on chubby boys who sweat too much and will be bald by the time they’re 30.”

He watched as Karofsky raised a closed fist, and despite the fear in the pit of his stomach, Kurt puffed out his chest, not caring, “Hit me, because it’s not going to change who I am. You can’t punch the gay out of me any more than I can punch the ignoramus out of you.”  He was slightly aware of Karofsky responding, and he knew the bully was angry, but Kurt didn’t care.  He had all of this pent up anger from years of bullying. Bullying that started to become dangerous at the beginning of the semester. “You’re nothing but a scared, sad, little boy who can’t handle how extraordinarily ordinary you are.”

Before Kurt knew what was happening, he felt a strong hand grip his jaw and a forceful kiss against his lips. He felt the back of his head hit the lockers as Karofsky pressed forward, trying to push the kiss deeper.  Finally, Kurt shook his head and pushed Karofsky away, shaking his head and shoving the boy back again.  

After a swift punch to the locker beside Kurt’s head, Karofsky was gone.

Slowly, Kurt sunk to the floor and put a hand over his mouth, unable to wrap his head around what was happening.  His jaw was hot and pounding from Karofsky’s grip and tears stung the corner of his eyes.

Blaine frowned down at his phone. That wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, they didn't always share classes together and it was a challenge sometimes to smuggle out replies while the teacher's back was turned or their eyes were focused on grading papers on their desk. Blaine's heightened senses helped a little in that regard but it wasn't typical of Kurt to keep him hanging on a flirtatious reply for long.

Courage, he'd tapped out earlier when they parted ways in the corridor and Blaine glimpsed the fear in his boyfriend's eyes as Karofsky strolled between them, smirking and casting dark looks over a shoulder. Can't wait to see you, history is retold more inaccurately every time I take it, he'd fired off a few minutes ago after rolling his eyes at another date he knew was inaccurate.

He'd been there, after all. It tended to help with retention of detail. 

By the time the bell rang and students were packing up their belongings, Santana cast him a curious glance as he hung back, still frowning down at his phone as if unsure what to make of its obstinate silence. She raised an eyebrow at him and he began to stack together his books, capping his pen and hastily shoving half of it into his satchel with little grace or care.

Best not to peak the werewolf's interest unless he was sure there was something wrong. He shouldered his bag and waved off the dark eyed girl as they moved in differing directions down the hall. Blaine stood still for a moment, nerves jangling and tried to place where his sudden uneasiness was coming from. 

His eyes traced over the students in the hallway, ticked toward a group of letterman jackets - Karofsky's teammates. They were laughing, jostling each other down the hallway as usual but there was something ... off, about it. The smaller boy moved clear of their path, keeping his chin low as he did and making a steady beeline for his boyfriend's locker. It wasn't until he reached the corner (no sign of Kurt) that he realized what had been throwing him.

Karofsky hadn't been amongst the group of jocks. 

Where was he? And more to the point, where was Kurt. They'd had plans to meet at his locker for lunch and yet there was no sign of him. The corridor was nearly empty. Somewhere nearby a door creaked closed. Blaine reached for his phone again and tapped out a message.

Kurt I'm at your locker where are you?

It was strange, the way he knew, in his gut, that something was wrong. He could blame it on his enhanced senses all he liked but he knew it wasn't just that. It was a far more human emotion governing his rising panic. He was afraid. For Kurt, for what he knew Karofsky had the potential and the power to do beyond mere bruises if he decided to. 

Blaine started down the hallway again, this time allowing himself to reach out with his senses; inhaling the air into his dead lungs and tentatively probing for Kurt's presence. He'd had the other boy's blood, it was enough for him to reasonably judge if he was nearby but searching like this, with his abilities honed in, was a risk he didn't often take.

Especially when there was the risk of discovery. 

Explaining to a teacher why you were stock still in the hallway with your eyes closed, head tilted back wasn't as simple as it might seem. McKinley was full of scents; sweat and perfume and the mingling aromas of a hundred or more bodies. The truest account of humanity when sifted down to its most basic state. 

There were raised voices nearby. A familiar voice. Then the sound of something heavy impacting metal. 

Blaine's eyes snapped open; hackles instantly rising as a door was thrown open a few feet from him and the burly figure of Karofsky darted down it; furiously scrubbing at his mouth and cursing under his breath as he streaked around a corner. Blaine stared after him for a long moment before he began to jog toward the door he'd exploded out of. 

Boys Locker Room.

Inside, there was the faintest sound of sniffling. Blaine breathed out slowly, fingers gripping the side of the door before it fully closed he slipped inside; blinking as his vision quickly adapted to the semi dark. The entire room stank of sweat, to a human's nose it likely wouldn't be offensive, but it all but made Blaine recoil. 

The air was thick with the residue of emotion he'd felt rolling off Karofsky as he left. 

"Kurt? Oh my God, Kurt!" 

Oh, I can do a hell of a lot better than just play nice. But yes, that’s my way of asking you to tag along - introduce me to the locals. Make sure I don’t go home with a Rwasundi Demon.

Theory is they were summoned somehow. I'm pretty sure they're from another dimension so there's really only so many methods to bring them here. Makes me wonder what else is going on in Lima. 

You’re right. He actually didn’t touch me once at all. I was terrified when I saw him turn the corner, but…nothing. Maybe the fact that Principal Figgins said he was going to talk tot he school board really got to him? I don’t know.

You know come to think of it when I caught his eye in the hall the other day he actually avoided eye contact with me after a second. It was strange. Almost like .... he knew what I was. 

I’m pleasantly surprised that I have gained so many new followers in such a short amount of time. I know you all must be here for my amazing talent, so if anyone has any performance requests, feel free to submit them. While I prefer anything from Broadway musicals, I am very versatile and I’m sure I can cater to whatever your musical tastes. 

darksideofblaine:

Is it that time of year already? Happy Mabon to you too, Tara!

You know of Mabon? I wouldn’t have ever thought-… well, anyway, thank you, Blaine! It is the time of the year.

I guess it's not that common for guys my age now that I think about it but I'm interested in a lot of the more, shall we say, spiritual aspects of the world. Though you're one of the first people I've met that actually celebrates it.

Hm, that depends. How far back are you familiar with?

I'm pretty familiar with anything from the 50's onwards. I know a few jazz and blues numbers if that would help. Or I could accompany you on the piano?