My phone sends shock waves of vibrations around my apartment. Even I am startled considering its been a fairly slow day today, with the rain pouring shyly outside. I race to my living room from my bedroom and answer it. Santana is on the other line, her tone irritable and tired.

"We need to talk Bachelorette party," she says on the phone. I fall to my couch, the tired legs creaking as I rest more weight onto it. "Im thinking strippers on a yacht."

"I was thinking a classy dinner at Spiral," I tell her. The idea of strippers does sound tempting - guys in thongs or tight briefs but I know Rachel wont go for it.

I still cannot believe that they decided to go ahead with the wedding. Rachels exact words to me were that when she saw him, everything came into perspective for her - her past, present and future - everything she saw consisted of him and she knew then that she wanted to marry him despite the little things that scared her. I was surprised my brother wasnt hesitant. Ill admit, two days ago when Finn called me, I tried to reason the pros and cons, but I guess different couples have different ideologies of themselves.

The world, to me, now feels right again.

"If we morphed the two, we could dine while grinding. How does that sound?"

"Unsanitary," I say. Santana rambles on about my purposeful mission to shoot her down but I ignore her when there is a knock on my door. When I pull it open, Santanas voice fades away like shes moved two states from New York. My eyes must have filled with a childlike wonder.

"Hey kiddo!" says my father, standing at my threshold. I let the phone drop to the ground and throw my whole body weight onto him. He doesnt feel like he can support me, but I dont care. The city forces me to be such an adult that when theres an opportunity to be a kid again, I dont let it slip by. Neither of us say anything and Im glad because Im just too happy hes here. "You got to let me breathe just a little," my father strains to say. I ease up quickly.

"Sorry, but Im just so glad youre here!" I yell. I let him into my apartment and head to the kitchen to fix him a drink. He has a lot of comments about the safety of my apartment, I just roll my eyes but I secretly love it - feeling like a teenager again being lectured. "Why didnt you call me? I wouldve picked you up from the airport."

"The efficient wedding planner lady came to pick us up. Carols with Finn and Rachel right now. I wanted to come and see you first," he says, looking out my window and disapproving that I dont have window grills. My father doesnt know about the slight hiccup that almost led to them not getting married, and I advised Finn that it should stay that way. "So how are you doing? The last time we spoke, you werent so cheery."

The question strikes an inquisition in my brain. It feels very odd when people ask this because feelings cant be measured - how do you measure being okay? For one thing, I do feel free, far more liberated than how I use to feel. Maybe I havent been okay for so long that feeling okay now just feels so new and foreign to me that I dont know if it is what I really feel. Nonetheless, I respond with, "Im fine," to my father. "I was under a lot of pressure but not anymore."

"Oh yea?" he says, taking a sit on my bar stool and watching me trying to uncap a bottle of beer. "You got to start giving me details here." When I look up, his eyes and trained so serious on me; giving no hint of a smile whatsoever. A huge lump forms in my throat, my insides go cold all of a sudden as if it started raining there too. I just have one last thing to break to my father, but I dont know how.

"I rather not rain you with my life drama, especially since you just got here," I tell him, dodging his attempt to pry into my life. He eyes me suspiciously, but decides to let it drop -for now at least, and Im glad.

I decide to pry into his own life instead, asking him questions about his car servicing business back at home. He tells me that Carol has him on restriction, not allowing him to work a lot anymore because he isnt as strong as he used to be. Even I can tell that without him telling me, how he has dark circles around his eyes. He looks like he lost weight too and I feel selfish all of a sudden; so consumed in my own life drama Ive neglected to keep track of my fathers well-being. I mentally note to do more of that.

"Where are you staying?" I ask. He tells me that the wedding planner lady had booked them a suite at Carlton Hotel for a night before they head to Southampton tomorrow since the wedding is the following day after tomorrow. I knew my father was coming, but I didnt know Santana had their itinerary scheduled down to the T. She really is efficient.

"Hows Blaine?" he randomly ask me. The cap of the bottle finally comes off and I halt in my place, glancing at my father through my lashes. "Yes, I know you guys finally saw each other again. Finn told me."

My damn brother. Ive been keeping his altercations under wraps but he has no problem telling my father of mine. My father has never asked me about Blaine, not since we broke up. I exasperate loudly and a little unsure of how or where to start. "Youre just going to stand there like a statue?" I gulp hard, straining my throat a little.

"I wont lie and say that it was a smooth meeting, but weve moved passed it," I say confidently because thats what it feels like when I think about Blaine now - a chapter I got through. I think first loves will always hold a special place in your heart no matter how far you go. I feel my fathers icy stare at me, as if trying to read my mind or something. I hand him his beer and reciprocate that stare, though not as focused as he is.

"Was he the reason why you were under pressure?" he ask and I know that if I dont give my father something to chew on, hes just going to keep on barking at me.
"No, he wasnt. It was because of work," I tell him. I inhale deeply because I dont know exactly how my father would take this. "I left my job."

His eyes grow so wide and shock his eyebrows was nearly lost into his hair. I try to keep a steady composure, maintaining my leg stance but all I want to do is jump out that grill-less window right now. "You - what? Youre unemployed? When were you going to tell me about this?" He yells so loud the city probably shrunk and silenced in fear. "How long have you been out of a job?"

"Two days," I say, trying so hard to hide the laughter bubbling up inside of me. My father made it sound like Ive been living under a bridge, without money or food or anything. He settles back into his seat as if glad at this little revelation, making him feel more at ease.

"Why did you quit?" he ask very timidly. I sigh tiredly but know there is no way around this but to just tell him. Hes the hardest to tell anyway, after this I dont think Ill have a problem to.

"I decided that it wasnt worth it - sacrificing my own creativity and principles for a brand that doesnt scream my personality. I know that moral high grounds are cost worthy, dad, but I couldnt stand being decided on by somebody who doesnt know expression in fashion if it slapped him on the face," I tell him.

Talking about it now sends my subconscious mind digging through my proud memory box. I still cannot believe I mustered enough courage to walk away. I had Blaine in my head the whole time, whispering to me that I had a choice, and I made one. When I told Hugh Shepard that I withdrew from his fucked up competition, he pulled his sunglasses off for the first time. That gave me some form of satisfaction, to know that I garnered a reaction.

It would have been embarrassing if they were indifferent. Chelseas face still burns bright in my head - somewhere between shocked and pleased. I thought it would bother me how she might think I caved because of her, but instead all I felt was pity that she had to conform to a set of rules given to her rather than making her own. Im just liberated that Im out.

"So what are you going to do now?" he presses on in the same concerned-father intonation. Now here comes the tricky part. I know exactly what am I going to do, but telling my father now would only pull his attention away from Finn and Rachels wedding. I dont think I want to do that, and mostly because Im scared shitless. No matter how far I go, Ill always shrivel up like a little boy around my father.

"Dont worry about that," I tell him, pulling my most assuring smile. "I have it all planned out." I know he isnt buying it, he isnt as assured as I had hoped he would be, but that will do for now. I know I have to tell him soon. Very soon.

"Im going to try and trust that you know what youre doing, but Ill always be a net for you if you fall, you know that, right?" he says, timidly. I sigh and take his hand into mine.

"I rather you werent my net," I tell him. "Sometimes I need to fall and feel the pain in order for me to learn."

My father nods very reluctantly and then we move on from this topic, which I am glad for. Sometimes I think parents are the ones that are tethered the most. They breed you up to the best of their ability, shaping you to be the best version of yourself as you can be - but it comes at a cost. The breeding also involves independence and once theyve achieved that, the children wont rely on them as much. What happens? They leave and parents are left alone. Its a very selfless, sacrificial thing to be, parents.

After 2 hours or so, my father leaves to get ready for Finn and Rachels rehearsal dinner. This all feels too surreal all of a sudden. Just a few days ago they were at a brink of breaking off, now it all seems like the storm has pass, which is coincidentally true because the rain outside has stopped. I go into my room and get ready myself - a simple navy tux with my hair swept to the back with hairspray. I keep waiting for the anxiety attack from knowing Im going to see Blaine, but it doesnt come. Im not necessarily excited either - I guess Im just indifferent, like meeting an old friend for a cup of coffee. We havent spoken since my impromptu intrusion at his workplace so you would think Id be nervous for the awkwardness of the situation, but Im not and it feels amazing.

When night time slowly creeps in, I make my way down to the city. The air is crisp and cooling, brushing against my skin leaving a ghost of delight. The rehearsal dinner is taking place at the St Regis Hotel which is a stretch from my down-to -Earth side of the city. Im surprised there is a taxi at all. I look at my watch and realize Im going to be late, which wont sit well with Rachel, or Santana for that matter. When the taxi halts at the lobby, I emerge and am about to enter the lobby when I hear a familiar voice calling my name. I turn to find Blaine walking up the steps in casual confidence, looking dapper in a traditional white tux and a coral blue tie. All my ease of seeing him have now deteriorated. I forgot how good he looks now.

"Youre late too?" he ask as he approaches towards me. I nod regretfully. "Great. I guess well both have to endure the wrath of Berry."

We both make our way to Ballroom One where the rehearsal dinner is being held. Neither of us saying anything to each other, but the silence feels more natural now then it was tensed. I dont think you can ever escape feeling maladroit around your ex, its kind of a package deal. But being around Blaine only serves as a reminder that I have one last bomb to drop to the people around me. I just hope its a small grenade as opposed to a nuclear explosion.

The ballroom is beautiful, with a huge stain glass artwork at ballerinas dancing over water. A bright orange lit chandelier dangles from the ceiling, casting a romantic mist over the center and only piece of furniture in the room; a large circular dinner table with multiple golden chairs tucked in its perimeter.
Noah is the first to notice our presence. He greets us in his usual generic straight boy nature, "Whats up, queens!"

I see my father and Carol lingering by a spread of desserts, indulged in a conversation with both of Rachels fathers. I dont see Rachel and Finn, which for some reason worries me. Their little hiccup left me with a traumatic anxiety. Then I startle when two fingers poke into the sides of my stomach. The culprit is Sam and he stands so near to me that for some reason gives me breathing problems. I almost completely forgot that we had slept together, but now seeing him here in his model physique, golden hair and stunning eyes, my cheeks burn crimson at the memory of seeing him underneath that fitted tux.

"Hey," he says to me, with what I can only identify as a hint of flirtation. I cannot form words to respond, and what comes pouring out is a jumbled reciprocation of a salutation.

Ive been so fixated on Blaine that I forgot he isnt the only one with a history with me. I never did have one with Sam, now I definitely do. How do people cope with one night stands? I guess the general rule is the only way it would work is if neither parties have any ties whatsoever. How do you act normally around somebody youve had intercourse with? You cant go drink a cup of coffee with someone youve seen naked, can you? Unless youre with them of course. There is this air of mystery, like you dont know whether it will happen again or not. The idea of sleeping with Sam again does sound appealing, but only because hes so good in bed.

From the corner of my eye, I can feel Blaines eyes burning into us and a sense of awe washes over me. Does he still have a sting of jealous when he pictures us together? Does he feel jealous?

"Okay people, please take your seats," says Santana when she walks into the room. Apparently shes late too. "The bride and groom will join us very shortly."
I dont hesitant to quickly dash from talking to Sam, or feel Blaine watching us talk. Im glad that my seat is in between Santana and Rachel because if I had to sit next to Sam, Id probably secretly want to grope him. I hate how easily infatuation can happen. Its the adversary of love, masking itself to be true feelings. When Finn and Rachel walk in, I immediately find myself searching their faces for any scrunched or frowned expressions but nothings there. Theyre smiling so gleefully, as if they met no bump in their road.

I envy their kind of love. The kind that can recover from mistakes, the kind that can find their beginning. I wonder what could have been if Blaine and I were willing to find ours. Maybe my family and friends would be attending my rehearsal dinner instead.

"Hey you," says Rachel after she had greeted everyone at the table. She looks radiant, and though I know its probably the pre-wedding spray tan glow Santana made her get, its more than that. Its, I think, genuine happiness.

"Why are you late?" I ask, failing to hide my concern. She chuckles as if my worries are redundant. "We got busy in the car," she tells me. It took me a couple of seconds to comprehend what shes saying, but when Rachel winks at me, I feel the nausea crawling down to my stomach. Straight people sex still creeps me out.

Finn rises in his feet and thanks us all for being here tonight. He goes on to describe his gratitude for our presence in his and Rachels life and finally decides to thank Rachels parents for raising Rachel the way they had. Rachel shies into her seat and goes on to give Finn a chaste peck on his cheek. When Santana waves her finger to no one in particular, 7 waiters and waitress appear out of nowhere, carrying trays of plates and dishes. I havent realized how hungry I was until my waiter slides a plate of whatever beef this is drizzled with a black unknown sauce that wafts the smell of heaven, I think.

"I dont want to pry, but how did things between you and Blaine go?" ask Rachel when everybody else have delved into their own small conversations. I go on to tell her the exact thing I told my father - which is weve moved past it.

At this point, I feel like I should have a generic statement etched into my brain so Ill immediately know what to say when the next person ask me, like a programmed robot or something.

"Thats unfortunate," says Rachel, much to my surprise. I cock an eyebrow at her direction. She only realizes my confusion after she chews on this heavenly dish. Her own look of confusion startles me. "What do you mean by unfortunate?" I irritably ask.

"Well, moving past it wasnt necessarily the ideal outcome I had hoped for you two," she tells me, hushed under her breath. I am so glad everybody else is too preoccupied with their own conversations to pay any attention on eavesdropping on us. I glance at Blaine and a sudden horror rushes to my stomach when I see him talking with my father. I distract myself by digging deeper into Rachel. "Youre suggesting you thought we would get back together?"

She shrugs and winks in a coquettish manner. I feel a surge of annoyance rising inside of me and I think she resonates in my face because Rachel places a hand over mine. "I always thought you guys would find your way back to each other, but if this is the conclusion youve decided upon then well, whatever makes you happy. Youre happy, right?"

I search inside of me, deep into my Pandora box labelled Blaine. I dont think happiness is necessarily the content in the box. Happiness seems like an abstract idea at this point. I think I often mistake indifference as happiness, because when you dont care, then there are no tethered feelings to it. Now Im wondering, if indifference is what I feel, what would it take for me to feel happiness from my decision?

I brush it away; any form of indecision I feel towards my situation with Blaine. "It doesnt matter anyway because Im moving on."

"About time. Whos the guy?" ask Rachel. I laugh her assumptions away in which she trains her eyes at me. For a brief moment, I look over and Sam and wonder if there is a potential future there - he seems to think Im attractive, and Ive always had a small crush on him, but my subconscious knows better. He was a good quick fix, as awful as that might sound. "There is no guy," I deadpan, matter-of-factually.

Then I realize the dangerous territory Ive stumbled into, way before Im ready. I fear Rachel might pry deeper, but when my father rises in his seat and calls for attention, clinking his knife against his wine glass, I can breathe again. He gives a short toast, telling us how proud he is of Finn. I think Carol would have been better fit for this toast, but shes in too much of an emotional mess to say anything. My fathers speech dates back to Finn and Rachels time as teenagers and I find myself wondering how he sees me.

How do people whom have seen me in my adolescent years see me now? Its one thing to assume or your own, its reality to be told by somebody who has watched you since. Do they think Im successful, miserable, happy or sad? You get these generic, stereotypical labels in your high school years, but they wear off, so what about the labels you get in life? I think there are mainly just two relevant ones - happy or sad. I wish there was an in between.

When our group yells, "Cheers to the happy couple," I am pulled out of my reverie and quickly raise my own glass to pretend Ive been paying attention this whole time, but I cant stop wondering whats my label. "You alright?" ask Rachel and I nod too aggressively to be believable.

"Guess what," whispers Santana from my left. She has a look of mischief on her face, one where I know my whole world is going to rock when she tells me. "I already planned the Bachelorette party."

"Im nervous," I confess. She ignores me and continues in her excited streak.

"Theres going to be a limo outside the hotel waiting for us. Were going to Fright, this new club downtown. Were going to check in to The Plaza penthouse afterwards for a sexy massage," tells Santana. This all feels too tame coming from her. I know I shouldnt hold my breath.

"What the hell is a sexy massage?" I ask and she winks at me. "Trust me darling, youll find out." Apart from that, it does sound like it would be a lot of fun.

When the dinner finally ends, my father and Carol take off first because they want to roam around the city before we have to head down to Southampton for the wedding. Rachels dads leave too, being more explicit by telling us theyre heading down to Tiko, a gay bar. Santana is practically bouncing in her seat, unable to contain her excitement for the night were about to have. Sam and Puck take turns taking pictures of each other against the stain glass art.

"Youre cool with seeing a female stripper? You can always join us. The more queens the better, I always say," says Santana. I dont know if she had mention strippers to me earlier. Now Im even more nervous. I softly kick Santana in her ankle and frown. Her plans are already terrifying, add Blaine into the mix and we get Southampton part 2 probably. Blaine chuckles and I get nervous.

"Ill pass. How stereotypical of you to assume were seeing strippers. Some guys are more respectable, you know," says Blaine.

"Yeah, and those guys happen to be gay. Excuse me," says Santana when her phone buzzes and she rises from her seat and stalks out of the ballroom. I have no reason to be nervous, not anymore, but this Blaine effect is really starting to eat away at me.

"What do you guys have planned?" ask Blaine and Im surprised his tone is casual, as if hes been talking to me his entire life. I swallow the lump in my throat and pull on my own armor of nonchalance.

"Santana has this whole thing planned. Its very elaborate and Im kind of nervous," I tell him.

"Well, you could use a fun night out," he says. My frown is so deep I feel the creases straining my forehead. Does he think Im tensed? By him? Luckily he is quick to catch my displeasure and goes on to say, "With your job. How did it go, anyway?"

His question garners the attention of Rachel and Finn. I feel their eyes burning into my cheek. Now Im forced to make a decision, to tell them the whole truth or to only tell the part that would answer the question. I feel shrunken under their awaiting stares but eventually, I know that I cant hide it anymore. Not when its so soon.

"I decided to leave," I tell. A smile plays across Blaines lips, as if hes proud I made the more ethical decision. Then I swallow another huge lump and let my consciousness deplete when the next few words tumble out of me. "But Ive been offered a chance to present my work at a real fashion show under my own brand, in Milan. Im leaving on Monday."