"Kurt! Whats wrong?" Rachel has been shrieking and banging on the fitting room door since I came sprinting in here, eyes watering and muffled sobs involuntarily escaping me. I cannot comprehend or explain why I am so upset.

Why should I care that Blaine decided on an entirely different route after we broke up? I shouldnt care. In fact, I am prohibited to care. If New York Kurt could see me right now, hed laugh and kick me. Ive spent 6 years being reliant on myself and in the span of a day, Blaine has managed to make me dependent on him again. I wipe these forbidden tears from my cheeks and revaluate my feelings. Did I set him off on a different course? Was our break up some transcendent wake up call for him, that he could do more with his life without me? He would drop the world for me when we were together. At the time, I thought it was a good thing. Seeing it from an objective point of view, was I in his way?

Rachel finally found her way to my rescue by crawling under the little gap beneath the door. I never realized how petite she was until she successfully got through the gap and came kneeling in front of my curled up figure. Her face is riddled with concern and her gentle brown eyes makes me feel worst that I made her worry on her retreat. "Whats wrong?" she ask in the most genuine tone. I sigh and release my arms from guarding my knees. "Did you know? That hes been in the city all this time?" I ask. Rachels face doesnt change one bit, then she sucks her lips into her mouth and nods regretfully. I had a feeling she knew. Blaine is apparently Finns good friend after all, which is a real surprise considering they werent as close in high school.

"You made me promise never to mention him ever again, and I know thats a pathetic excuse but I didnt know what to do. I didnt want you to hurt again, so I tried to keep everything I knew to myself," says Rachel. She is mindful, as if making sure her words dont hurt me. I dont know why, Im already wounded. "When he came into the city, he ran into Finn and I guess because he was new and had nobody in New York, he was reliant on Finn. Please dont hate me, or Finn."

Oddly enough, I dont feel as betrayed by them as I do with Blaine. I should be furious because they brought the cause to this crying scene, but they had my best interest at heart, which is a self-centered, bias excuse. They were front row when they watched me unravel after Blaine and I broke up, and if I was in their position, I wouldnt want to give a reason for the person I love to feel that way again. With Blaine, its different. He never once mentioned about wanting to be a doctor. It makes me feel like I never knew him at all, and Ive never felt more insignificant and dispensable. "Santanas a wedding planner and Blaines a doctor. Any more surprises I should prepare for?"

"None, I hope," says Rachel. She puts her hand in mine and gently strokes my knuckles with her thumb. I tell myself to let it go. Hes not worth my tears, not anymore. Rachel tells me that its safe to come out of the fitting room because Noah and Finn are at the coffee house a few stores down and that Blaine is with them. I dont think I can face him, not yet now that he knows he still affects me. Ill feel vulnerable around him, and I cant see him with my defenses down.

Santana is in a deep conversation with the boutique owner, who is an elder woman with a bob haircut and wears the biggest spectacles I have ever seen on a person. The boutique is a charming little place with the glass windows tinted. The inside is dark with an antique chandelier I could find at a flea market. There are wedding gowns kept in glass incubators in a gallery form. Rachel is wearing one of their dresses, an off-white mermaid cutting dress with thick ruffles around her shoulders and a train that is as dramatic as her personality. "This looks good on you," I say to Rachel, wanting to push myself away from the Blaine topic. A very draining, toxic topic.

"You alright, Hummel?" ask Santana as she approaches me with a glass of red wine. I take it gingerly. I dont normally drink for brunch, then again I have never had brunch. "If it helps at all, I think Blaines a tool. Ive always thought that, with his creepy goblin eyes and weird obsession with Katy Perry songs."

Hearing that from Santana is like putting on a warm blanket on a cold night. Its always best to have Santana on your side, though I dont necessarily know if there are technical sides to this. Blaine obviously has the upper hand here, my life went just as I had planned. Facing unemployment aside, I graduated from New York Design School, became a designer - everything I planned on happening did. I dont have an upper hand, no element that suggest that leaving him changed me. He does, and he changed - for the better, from the look of things.

Rachel tries on a couple of dozen dresses and ask for my opinion, which takes my mind off things. Santanas trusty bottle of great wine also takes my mind off things, but I manage to keep myself at bay this time. By lunchtime, Rachel still hasnt found a dress yet which upsets the boutique owner whose name escapes me - Glendel? Glenda? Wine makes me forget a lot of things. Before we leave the boutique, I make Rachel promise not to leave my side when we meet the guys at the coffee house. Its always better to face something daunting with your best friend. When we leave the boutique, Finn, Noah and Blaine are leaning against the glass window outside, holding cups of coffee. Finn ask why didnt I go over to the coffee house with them, and I lie and say Im not in the mood for coffee when in truths, I am not in the mood for Blaine. I dont make eye contact with Blaine. I wish it was easy to wish he wasnt here, and I punch myself realizing how I did have the opportunity of that once.

"Lets go back to the house. I think the chef has something prepared and I could really use a shower. Who knows whose bodies those dresses have been on," tells Rachel. She hooks her arm with Finn and led the way and I realize I hate her a little more everyday as this retreat stretches on. I attempt to follow closely behind them, but Blaine steps in front of me just as the rest of the group is a safe distance between us. I try to serpent around them, but Blaine pushes a cup of coffee in my hand. I look up and frown at him, wondering if this is supposed to make up for him not telling me he has been in New York. I knew I made it clear that we cant speak again, but does that mean completely ignoring the fact that our places of work are merely 5 blocks away? I am too confused over this.

"I cant undo moving to New York, my life is there. Im sorry I never told you, but you wanted to move on, and I did. Call this a peace offering because I dont want to fight with you," he timidly says to me before he turns and catches up with Noah. I inhale the steaming coffee and feel my cold heart slowly begin to thaw. It is my coffee order, a Grande non-fat mocha. I keep wondering what Blaines game is, but what if there is no actual game. What if hes not trying to prove anything to me and that he has truly moved on, and that all these things he has done are merely small acts of kindness towards a person he hurt? My head is spinning from the constant back and forth, investigating all of Blaines actions. I want to punch myself for investing so much time in this.

I jump into Finns filthy car before anyone can say anything, and Noah is left to drive with Blaine. Nobody said a word about it, I reckon they didnt dare to. When we return, there is a new car sitting in the driveway, a top-down classic Mustang. It dazzles and shines like a blue diamond underneath the blazing sun. When we enter the house, we get to know the owner, it is Sam Evans. He is another McKinley High survivor, but he never really suffered that much. He was on of the "top dogs" that formed a complete pack with Noah and Finn. Ill admit, when he first transferred into McKinley a few months before Blaine did, I had an enormous crush on him. He was tall, had dirty blond hair, a well-toned physique and thick lips I sometimes wish was my pillow, but of course he was straight and all the girls took notice of the same attributes I was infatuated with. He even briefly dated Rachel. When Blaine came into McKinley, thats when my taste shifted from guys who look like Ken dolls to guys that look like Ken dolls cute younger brother with brunette hair.

He greets Finn and Noah in their usual fashion, and hugs Santana, Rachel and I. He and Blaine have their own little way of greeting each other because they were pretty chummy back in High School since they both more or less transferred in around the same time. Sam looks even better now, his hair is a shade darker, he sports a scruffy looking beard but his physique is intact. Ill admit one thing, he still does send a spine tingling feeling down to my groin, but thats merely it. "Have you been here long?" ask Rachel.

"About an hour or so. This place is amazing," says Sam. If I had a dollar for every time somebody compliments this house, Id be rich enough to afford this house. Chef Marco invites us to the patio for lunch. He serves a killer quality burger and fries and we eat with the glorious sea that glisten under the sunlight in our backdrop. Blaine isnt across from me, which makes the view all the more gratifying. Sam fills us in on why he was late to this twisted little retreat. Hes a model, not exactly Naomi Campbell famous but he does look good in clothes and does run in my circle. Ive seen him do a couple of shoots in magazines and seen him once or twice rocking the runways of low-key fashion shows. He tells us that he had a photo-shoot yesterday, thats why he couldnt come earlier.

"Saw your spread in Playgirl. I never imagined all the things that could be done with a lawnmower," tells Santana and Sam flushes crimson. After lunch, I head upstairs to stare at the clothes for Hugh. Ive almost let it slip my mind since Ive got here. Almost. The vertical runway is a shock that brings me back to reality. I have six days to the presentation and every minute that ticks by is slowly clawing my skin. I go to the balcony and take my sketch book to review the clothes Ive designed, only to shut it immediately. I dont know when I succumbed to allowing my creativity become a commodity. The things in my sketchbook and a shrieking reminder that I am what people would call a "sell out".

I return downstairs shortly after, but nobody is in the lounge room. I go out to the patio and I see my friends, down at the beach. Santana and Rachel are on sunbathing chairs, Santana in a revealing, skimpy bikini and Rachel in a conservative sundress. There really are two types of girls. The guys are playing some sort of ball game that involves a net. Im assuming netball, or volleyball. Ive never been too big with sports. "Hey lady Hummel. Grab a chair, we need to look golden for Rachels wedding," says Santana as I approach them. There is an extra chair so I take it next to Santana. The sun feels good against my skin. In the city, you get humid days, but you rarely see the sun hidden behind tall skyscrapers. Out here, the sun is confident. "So we might be getting seaweed massages later if you want to come with."

"Sounds good," I say. The sun, and now seaweed massages? Maybe this retreat isnt so bad if I just dont think about Blaine, but just as I am about to go into a deep rest, Santanas glass shattering scream scares me awake. "I told you not to hit me with this! This is not the kind of balls I like!"

"Finns a terrible player," says Sam.

"I was quarterback," remarks Finn, because he always needs to remind people of that. Now hes a geeky teacher at a high school.

"I cant anymore. Whatever chef Marco made didnt rub me the right way," abruptly tells Noah before he makes a sprint for the house, hands covering the back of his pants. "Kurt, why dont you take his place?"

"Id be a better replacement than twig-arms over here," says Santana. I am about to say that sports and I are like Santana and Rachel, both great in their own way but cant really merge, when Blaine interjects with, "Come on guys. Kurt doesnt like sports."

Why is it that every time he opens his mouth in this retreat, I find the idea of manslaughter more and more appealing? I scowl at him, wishing I had lethal laser beams coming out of my eyes. Its just not fair - he presumes he knows me, and I get to see him as this revamped version of the Blaine I knew. I dont know what logic I decided to trust most, but before anyone can say anything, I say, louder than was necessarily, "Ill play!" Santana raises her thin eyebrows at me and shrugs. "Let the boy play."

Blaine wears a truly amused expression, his eyes following me as I walk towards Sams side of the net, with Finn and Blaine on the other side. I dont care that I have no idea how to play this game, but I do know Blaines game now; he gets to drop little shockers about his life to me to show me how much hes changed. I do too. "When the ball comes to our side, you just smack it across to their side, okay?" ask Sam. Sounds easy enough, but with Blaine standing behind the net, shirtless with board shorts that emphasizes his toned legs, I dont know if concentrating on the ball would be that easy. "You sure about this, Kurt?" I hear Blaine asking. "Youre not the only one with surprises, pal."

I hear Santana cheering me on from the side, telling me to catch as many balls as I can because I could use some balls. I ignore her completely. Sam throws the ball in the air and thrust it to Blaines side, but it returns to our side in a faster pace but Sam is quick on his feet. The ball soon returns on their end but Blaine swats it and it narrowly misses my shoulders. Finn howls in victory and rejoice in a congratulatory, self-indulgent clap with Blaine. I want to rub sand into Blaines eyes right now. He always had this secret competitive nature and when he wins, his eyes twinkle in a way that use to make my knees go weak, now it just makes me want to blow him up to bits. He also sports an annoying smirk and I roll my eyes at him. Sam tells me that its okay, that its just a game but its more than that. Blaine does not get to know that I cant play sports, he doesnt get to know me at all.

"Thats okay, lady Hummel. Plenty of balls out there to play with," says Santana. Sam throws the ball in the air and sends it spinning to their end of the court. Finn practically leaps for it but it grazes the tip of his fingers before he comes crashing into a face full of sand. Rachel panics and we all tell her to calm down, but in that moment I knew the type of wife she would be. Finn hits the ball again and this time it curls straight for me. Sam urges me to get it and I am so ready to smack something, but the hand misses it and the ball crashes into the side of my cheek. Santana screams and scolds them for damaging the skin completion shes dreamed of. Then I hear a sound that ignites a hate fire inside of me; Blaine laughing. I look straight at him and he swallows it back and puffs his cheeks to stop himself. At this point, I want to drown him in the gorgeous open sea.

"You alright, Kurt?" ask Blaine. On top of the fresh burning pain in my cheek, his voice makes the situation worst. I hiss at him, telling him Im fine and I guess my tone of displeasure resonated with the group because everybody falls oddly quiet. "Go in front of the net. When the ball comes, hit it straight to his face," whispers Sam, and he nudges me to where he tells me to stand. My nose is practically pressed against the net. I see Blaine through it and I wish this was his form inside my mind, locked away behind a cage. I look over my shoulder for some form of assurance from Sam and he nods. Sam sends the ball flying at their end, but Finn reciprocates the same.

When the ball comes for us, its like the world slowed down and every single one of my worries is mashed into that ball form. Hugh and his assisant, taunting me with their laughter, the faceless sketched models wearing my designs, shaking their heads in absolute distaste at the person Ive allowed myself to become, and Blaine. His beautiful ignorant face. The ball comes barreling for me. My insides implode in rage and I hit the ball back into their court with unfathomable strength I mustered, except I didnt aim it right, or I did, but it spins with an incredibke velocity right for Blaines face.

SMACK

Blaine cracks the sky with a loud, mildly girly, cry before he falls backwards into the sand, clutching his nose. His wailing springs Rachel and Finn into action. They loom over him and try to get him to sit up right. I dont normally condone physical violence, but hearing him wail like a little girl makes me feel satisfied. "Santana, get an ice pack!" screams Rachel, in which Santana deadpans with a hard No, and continues to bask under the heat. I look over at Sam who hasnt moved either. I wait for him to shake his head, but he winks. I should feel bad, but I shrug it off and take a seat next to Santana.

"Hell be fine. Hes a doctor," I say before taking another swig of Santanas wine, right from the bottle, in this gorgeous sun.