Blaine wakes to the sound of a familiar voice calling out to him.

“--promised me coffee this morning, Boo.  We’re going to be late at this rate.”

Tina crawls up on to his bed as Blaine blinks his eyes open, wondering why they hurt so much and feel gummy.  Tina’s on her hands and knees, leaning over him, brow furrowing as she looks down at him.  She reaches out to touch his forehead.  “Are you sick?  You look like shit.”  She sits back on her heels, the skirt of her blue polka dot dress fanning out over the duvet.  “Your dad said there was drama.”

“M’dad’s home?” Blaine asks; his throat feels slightly sore.  Is he getting sick?

Drama?  Oh, wait.

Kurt.  The memories of what transpired last night hit Blaine like an unexpected wave, the water choking him as it sweeps into his mouth and throat, causing his eyes to sting and his chest to ache.  He thinks this has to be a little of what dying is like as he curls into himself.

“Yeah, looks like he just got in because a suit case was sitting in the hallway—oh my god, Blaine, are you crying?  Blaine, what—oh my god, stop!”

Blaine tries to draw in a breath and do exactly what Tina has asked—stop crying—but it turns into a sob instead.  When he feels her throw her arms around him, hands rubbing over his back soothingly, the tears become even more difficult to control.  He hasn’t cried like this in a while; has never cried like this because of Kurt.  

“Blaine, seriously, what—did someone die?”

“Kurt—“

“Oh my god!  Kurt died?!” Tina pulls back, eyes wide with shock.

Blaine shakes his head and dashes at his tears with the back of his hands.  He hates crying.  He especially hates crying in front of others because then they try to comfort him, and he always feels awkward, like he doesn’t know what to say or that he doesn’t deserve their sympathy or something.  He knows it’s just a lie, but being strong and being happy, those are traits that please people.  It’s all Blaine’s ever wanted, continues to ever want--to make people smile, to make people glad to be around him.  Tears are frightening and unsettling, and so very inconvenient.

“No,” he gets out quickly before Tina joins him in his tears because the girl can cry at the drop of a hat, and she doesn’t need to be crying over something that is not even true.  “Kurt and I, we… I think we broke up.”

Oh god.  He just said that, didn’t he?  Blaine presses the heels of his hands hard against his eyes as the tears begin falling again.

“What?  That’s insane.” Tina leans over and wraps her arms around him once more, shushing him softly as she pets his head.  “Blaine and Kurt do not break up.  That’d be like… yin without yang, comedy without tragedy… Panic without the disco.”  She presses a kiss to his cheek.  “Sorry, bad joke.  But you get what I mean?  Tell me what happened.  Come here.  Sit up.  You’re going to choke on your own snot or something.”

Blaine surprises himself with a little laugh at that as he allows her to help him into a sitting position before he kind of slumps against the headboard.  Tina digs through the purse strapped across her shoulders and he looks down at the phone still clutched in his hand.  No messages.  No calls.  Just like the night before.

“Now tell me exactly what happened,” she instructs, pulling a tissue from a portable pack and reaching over to wipe his tears away.  She holds it over his nose.  “Blow.”

Pulling a face at her, Blaine takes the tissue from her fingers while she shrugs and sits back on her heels once more, patting his thigh as he blows his nose.  He wipes at his eyes again while she quietly waits, strands of hair falling out of her ponytail from when she hugged him.

“I hadn’t heard from him the last two days—“

“Artie told me about that last night.”

“Well, he got on Skype last night,” Blaine says softly, staring down at the tissue between his hands.  “And he was so… it was like he didn’t want to talk to me.  Like I was… boring him or annoying him or something.  And I tried to tell him about the musical but he said he had more important things to worry about than school musicals and then… then he told me to stop being childish.”

Tina frowns as she pulls out another tissue and leans forward to dab at his eyes again.  “That doesn’t sound like Kurt at all.  Did you ask him why he was acting that way?”

Blaine looks away.  “I, ummm… logged off.”

“Huh.” Tina sits back once more.  “Gay. Straight. Men are dumb.”

“Thanks, Tina.”

“Just being honest.  Did you call him, at least?”

“Mom said I should wait until today.”  Blaine sniffs and looks at his phone again.  “In case he had stuff he needed to sort out.”

“Hmm.  True.  I mean, Kurt’s always been one of those “need their space” kind of people,” she says, watching him with real sympathy in her eyes until he can’t take it anymore and looks away.  “Boo, you’ve gotta stop.  The two of you have had problems before, and you’ve always gotten past it.  Aren’t you the one who told me last spring that every time you fight, it just makes your bond stronger?”

“I lied.”

He hadn’t, though.  It’s true, and something both he and Kurt have discussed at length.  How the few fights they have had were important and necessary, and have always, always assisted them in working through something vital and scary, and at the very end of those terrifying minuteshoursdays, they’ve always been stronger, better, more in tune with the thoughts and feelings of each other.

“Oh yes, that’s you.  Blaine Anderson, the big ol’ liar.” Tina rolls her eyes and grabs hold of his hand.  “C’mon.  Get up.  We’re gonna be late for school.

Blaine tugs his hand back, and glares at her in what he hopes is an effective enough manner to get her to leave him alone.  He just wants to crawl back under the covers and wait for Kurt to get past whatever it is that’s causing him to need space.

Unfortunately, Tina just rolls her eyes and grabs his hand once more as she begins to scoot off of his bed.  “Get up, take a quick shower.  I’ll pick out something brilliant for you to wear—“

“Tina, no offense, but the last time you dressed me, I looked like Mike.”

“Admittedly not my best moment,” she says with a wave of her hand as she walks over to his closet.  “Flannel just doesn’t work on you.  I promise I’ll stick to the basic ‘50’s package.”

“I don’t dress like the ‘50’s,” Blaine mutters, sniffing again as he swings his legs over the bed and gets up, still clinging to his phone.  He glances at the screen once more, just in case he missed something.

“Right.  And I’ve never impersonated a vampire before.”

“What?” He stares at her, his beautiful Tina who doesn’t look anything like a vampire and everything like a very happy teenage girl with a bright smile and a wardrobe Blaine probably would have chosen for himself if he had been born female.

“Nothing.  Get showered, Boo.  Make yourself gorgeous.  Sugar’s auditioning for the musical today, and I need moral support.”

“I think Sugar is the last person you need to worry about, Tina,” Blaine says, pulling a pair of underwear from his dresser and nudging Tina out of the doorway to his closet so he can grab his robe.  “She’s a sweet girl but I think Artie would willingly lock himself in a Port-A-Pottie before he cast her as Sarah.”

Tina snorts and reaches up to pat Blaine’s cheek.  “You’re too nice for your own good, Blaine Anderson.  Now, go.”  She shoves at his shoulders, guiding him toward the hallway.  “Your face is all blotchy and unattractive, and if we want to mount an assault against Kurt to make him feel guilty for making you cry, then we need to have you looking sad, but also pretty.  Very, very pretty.”

Tina wasn’t lying about the assault thing.  She starts snapping pictures of him on the drive to school, quickly uploading them to both her Facebook and her Tumblr, which she assures him Kurt regularly checks.  Blaine knows it really isn’t worth arguing with her about; when Tina gets an idea in her head, there’s no stopping her.  She’s incredibly tenacious, a trait which Blaine thinks not many people associate with her.  It’s likely because she’s such a good-hearted and sweet person—her tenacity only goes so far.  She would never hurt someone else to get what she wants, but she tends to have trouble letting go of things as well.

She drags him from class to class, showing up outside his classroom door for the classes they don’t have together, snapping pictures that she immediately posts (“You’re really getting the whole oh my god my world is ending vibe across, Boo.”) to her accounts.  It’s apparent to Blaine by second period that she’s mounted her own kind of assault against him when Brittany tackles him in the hallway, calling him her dolphin (Kurt’s her unicorn, Blaine her dolphin—there’s some inter-species thing going on there that Blaine tries not to think about too hard), placing a bubblegum scented kiss on his cheek and tucking a daisy behind his ear.  Blaine leaves the daisy there until one of the hockey players passes him in the hall and smacks it away.  The contact with his ear hurts, but Blaine just levels a glare in his direction as he bends to pick up the mangled flower and slips it between the pages of his textbook.

In Calculus, Artie keeps up a running stream on all of his plans for Guys and Dolls.  Blaine doodles in his notebook, writing out Kurt’s name over and over again as his eyes continue to flicker toward his phone set close beside him.  He picks it up three times, prepared to text Kurt, only to set it back down.  It’s beginning to wear on him, the idea that Kurt hasn’t texted or called or anything.  Yes, Blaine was the one who ended their Skype session, but surely Kurt realized he was being an ass, right?  He’d give Kurt the rest of the day, and the benefit of the doubt that maybe he’s busy with something, and then he’ll send him the most amazingly passive aggressive text in the history of texting.

Lunch this year is different than when Blaine had Kurt there; different than having all of the New Direction’s seniors around.  Last year Blaine had spent most of his lunches tucked up beside Kurt, occasionally sharing off of one another’s plates as they listened to conversations that usually devolved into several members of the glee club attempt to win the award for loudest at the table.  Typically, Rachel ended up the winner of the contest, but sometimes Santana or Mercedes would step in to show her what true vocal power was all about.  By March, Kurt and Blaine had developed a game together that when the conversation became too loud, they’d start singing. The others had quickly caught on and joined in, until that one fateful lunch period when the student body had apparently had enough, and they’d all ended up wearing slushies for their trouble.

This year, lunch is proving to be less chaotic.  Blaine is usually the first into the cafeteria, followed shortly by Artie and Tina who have class together, and then Rory and Sugar will soon follow, all gathering around Blaine, asking him how his morning was, and what he has planned after school.  Brittany usually ends up leaving the Cheerio table about halfway through lunch to join them, sometimes sitting between Artie and Tina, and other times squeezing in next to Blaine, where she inevitably cuddles against him and wonders aloud why she has to spend five years at school when everyone else only has to do four.  Blaine’s answer is always the same: “Because you’re more important than the rest of us, Britt.  And besides, New Directions wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Today’s lunch passes with forced conversation that Blaine is fairly certain has everything to do with him.  He spends much of his time glaring in Tina’s direction while she carefully avoids his gaze at all cost—he knows information passes around the glee club faster than Doctor Who spoilers on Tumblr, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it, especially when it’s about him.

“So what are you doing for this week’s assignment, Blaine?” Rory asks, looking over at him as he licks some of the salt from the fry between his fingers before eating it.

Assignment…  crap.  Blaine’s been so wrapped up in everything happening with Kurt and the musical that he’d completely spaced Mr. Schuester’s request that they each find a song that reminded them of their childhood to sing.  He fidgets slightly in the plastic chair beneath him as everyone at the table collectively looks in his direction.

There was something to be said for the council of the Warblers choosing most of his songs for him.

“I… haven’t really given it much thought,” he admits, brow furrowing as he notices everyone around him flashing expressions of sympathy.  As if it’s completely understandable that he’s totally forgotten an assignment due to boyfriend trouble.  Blaine focuses on Rory.  “What about you?”

“I think I’m going to sing Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen,” he says, accent lilting slightly on Queen.  By the time Rory was set to return to Ireland at the end of the last school year, he’d picked up enough Americanisms that his accent was barely noticeable.  A few short weeks back, and Blaine sometimes forgets that Rory’s an exchange student, except when that lilt in his voice returns.  “It was my mum’s favorite when I was little.  She played it all the time.  Do you think that’s what Mr. Schue wanted?  Or should I go with something else?”

Heads all swivel back to Blaine once more.  He still remembers standing there in the choir room in May during their last week of school, as Finn had settled his hand on Blaine’s shoulder and announced him as the new captain of New Directions.  Rachel had clapped her hands enthusiastically while Kurt had beamed at him from the front row and Tina had bounced excitedly in her chair.  Blaine had tried to hand the position off to Artie but had quickly been out-voted by pretty much everyone in the group.

Except Sugar.  She’d explained that she would make a far better, and far sexier captain than Blaine would.

“I think that’s a perfect choice,” Blaine says with a nod as his friends around him all immediately erupt into separate conversations about what they plan to sing for the assignment.  Blaine shuts most of it out until Brittany lays her head on his shoulder.

“My dolphin’s sad,” she says quietly, entwining her arms around his arm beside her, and squeezing.  “Didn’t my flower cheer you up?”

“It did, Britt.  Thanks.”

“Kurt would never mean to hurt you.  I bet if he saw the way you look right now, he’d come right here and tell you how sorry he was.”

Blaine smiles a little at that and leans his head against hers.  “I know he would.”

“Blaaainnneee.” Sugar stretches herself across the table to reach him, the tips of her fingers patting his hand as she pointedly ignores the look of annoyance Tina, who has to pull her tray out of the way, is flashing in her direction.  “I think I have some ideas on how to recruit more members.”

“Does it require any form of bondage or other forceful coercion?” Blaine finds himself asking.

Tina begins choking on the sip of diet Coke she’s just taken.

Sugar seems to consider his question seriously for a moment before shaking her head.  “No.  But one of the options does include bribery.”

“Which is something we may have to resort to,” Artie says, tapping an unopened straw against his finger thoughtfully.  “Bondage could come in handy, too.” He catches the wide-eyed looks of the others and quickly adds, “I mean, not for recruitment purposes.”

“And on that note…” Blaine pats Brittany’s arm before standing to grab his tray and tells his friends that he’ll see them in glee club that afternoon.

Tina catches up with him at his locker, pushing the door open wider to check her hair in his mirror as he switches books.  “Lima Bean after glee?  I’ve got a chemistry exam I have to cram for tonight.”

“Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?”

“Something like that.” She spins around to lean her back against the lockers behind her and lowers her voice to say, “Besides, I heard Ana say that her cousin’s best friend’s brother saw Quinn and Puck at the Dairy Queen last night.  I want to know what that’s all about.”

Blaine grins.  “Surely friends are allowed to go to the Dairy Queen together without it being some huge deal.”

“They’re so on-again, off-again lately, I feel like I need to download an app to keep track of them.”  Tina grows quiet, watching Blaine as he pauses in his text book swapping to stare at the photo of him and Kurt at Senior Prom.  “You okay, Boo?”

Blaine shrugs and shuts his locker.  “You know me.”

“Yes, I do.  Which is why I’m asking.”  She reaches out for his arm as they start down the hall.  “Have you thought about texting Kurt?”

“Not in the last two minutes or so.”

Tina nods.  “Mike says he thinks Kurt’s just really stressed out with the internship right now.”

“Wait.  You’ve already talked to Mike about this?”

“We’ve been texting.” Tina gives him a look that clearly says she’s wondering why he didn’t expect that.  “He and Kurt went out for coffee the other day.  He said Kurt was kind of distracted—“

“Distracted with figuring out how to break up with me—Ow!”

Tina frowns at him after she punches him in the arm.  “Unless you left out something in the retelling of your story, Kurt said no such thing to you.  Personally I think you’re both just behaving like boys, and Mike agrees.”

“Well, I can’t see what the problem is here other than the fact that Kurt and I are boys—Ow!”

“Stop being contrary,” she says, rubbing his arm where she hit him.  “You know what I mean.  There’s a good way to behave like boys, and a bad way.  And right now I think you’re behaving in the bad way.”

Blaine shakes his head.  “I love you, T.  But just now, I didn’t understand a single word you said.”

Tina purses her lips and rolls her eyes.  “You’re both being stupid.  Does that break it down enough for you?  Or should I try moronic? Idiotic? Stubborn? Ridiculous?—“

“All right! All right!” Blaine laughs a little, holding his hands up in surrender.  “I get it.  Do you think I should call him or text him or what? Since you’re apparently a master at this relationship stuff.”

Tina stops abruptly and raises an eyebrow at Blaine as she holds a finger up in his face.  “Mike and I have been together for more than two years now, true?”

“Umm, true.”

“We’ve had the occasional fights, yes, but have we ever once split up?”

Blaine shakes his head.

“And now, here he is, off in New York following his dreams at Alvin Ailey, and we’re both perfectly content and more in love than ever, yes?”

Blaine nods, eyes widening as Tina settles both of her hands on her hips.

“Name another couple in this crazy ass, backwards institution that has pulled that off?”

“Ummm—“

“Exactly.  Now name one that will follow in our rather perfect example?”

Blaine blinks, and cautiously says, “Me and Kurt…?”

“You and Kurt.” Tina reaches over and pats his cheek.  “You love Kurt, Blaine.  You’re head over heels crazy about him, and you always have been.  Do what you feel you should do in this situation, okay?  Go with your heart.”  She stabs her finger against his chest.  “It’s the place you seem to work best from.”

Blaine draws in a breath and smiles as he leans over to press a kiss to Tina’s cheek.  “What would I do without you, T?”

“Be miserable and angsty and not at all the Blaine Anderson we all know and love,” she replies with a smile.  “See you in glee, Boo.”

“You’ve reached future Broadway star, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.  I can’t take your call right now, but if you leave a message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I have a chance.”

“….Hi.  It’s me.  I know you’re busy with everything but I just wanted to leave a message to say I’m sorry for coming off as a brat last night or… well, I’m sorry for just ending our chat the way I did.  And that I didn’t answer your call right away.  I just… I miss you.  And I know that’s not an excuse or anything for behaving like an ass but, I don’t really know how else to explain it.  Anyway, I have to run to glee but I just wanted to call and let you know….  If you’re too busy to call back, I understand.  I… I love you, Kurt.”