"Guess whos here?"

Santana Lopez stands in the thresholds of the front door. She stuns with her long dark, faux hair dancing behind her and a tight fitted red mini dress that leaves very little to the imagination. I know that dress, Ive seen it in magazines, but in true Noah can vouch that, with his eyes trailing her figure. I follow in the shadow of Rachel and Finn back into the house. "Is nobody really going to give me a welcome I deserve?"

"How about a spank on the ass?" says Noah. I roll my eyes at the coquettish attempt. Rachel greets Santana with a hug. I fall into the couch and almost lose myself in its comfort, but when I see Blaine descending down the spiral staircase, my guard is up again. His eyes meet mine very briefly, and very briefly do I remember how beautiful they are. Santana rambles on about how there isnt a red carpet for her, and how its really humid. I guess stardom only enhances your personality. Santana is a mega YouTube star, thats the last I heard anyway. I dont know what she does now. She was never really a woman with a plan.

"So now that at least half of you are here, I guess we should start assigning rooms-"

"I get the one with the biggest bed, best view and a bathtub," interjects Santana. I fight the urge to say that that wouldnt be enough to please her ego. Rachel quietens the room, looks at me and then says, "Kurt, you get first pick."

I know she doesnt care enough to let me be first to choose. You would think being the grooms brother and the brides best friend gives me some seniority but the truth is Rachel just wants an answer to whether Im leaving or not. Putting me on the spot like this is pushing me closer to the edge, but it dawns on me that a slight part of me is curious how this week will play out. A smaller part of me wants to see how Blaine and I will adapt to this, but the biggest part of me wants to stay because I love Rachel and Finn, and if demanding Blaine leave would hurt Finn, I wouldnt do that. Especially since its his wedding retreat, not my retreat though I wish it was. I stare back at Rachel, who wears a hopeful smile. "The first bedroom from the stairs," I say and a wide smile spreads across her face. I look over to Finn to be sporting his side smirk, in which I glare at him and he drops his gaze in shame. The smile I didnt understand was Blaines. A small, amused one.

"Great then! I dont care what the rest of you pick, just leave the master bedroom alone. Its mine," says Rachel as she heads over to where our luggages are to pick up one of her carry on. "Are you sure? I think Puck needs the masturbate room, since hes the only one not getting any this week," says Santana and for some awful, enigmatic reason, she winks at me.

I gather my luggages and quickly retreat to my bedroom before I run into Blaine again, or before Santana finds the opportunity to infer some inappropriate comment about the two of us. I know she will, Im just not prepared yet. I slam the bedroom door shut behind me and practically throw myself onto the bed. What am I going to do? A whole week with a person I havent seen in 6 years, someone who did not end in good terms with me, whom I havent seen since high school. This is literally the nightmare I never thought would arise in my fantasies let alone my reality.

I must have stayed in my bedroom for most of the afternoon. I fell asleep at one point only to find myself right back on the endless runway. When I wake up, I braved myself onto the balcony and felt myself relax instantly at the mere sight and scent of the ocean. Vast beauties of nature really puts things into perspective; I am here for two people I love more than life itself, Blaine Anderson will not be the reason I not enjoy this stay. Even if his mere presence here opens up a Pandora box of memories Ive kept shut for years. It hasnt been a day into this trip and Ive already had doubts about coming here. I open my luggage and pull out jeans and a t shirt because the beach calls for laid back outfits, then it dawns on me. I havent seen Blaine in ages. Right now, I have the opportunity to reinvent myself - show him just how far Ive gone and grown since he saw me. I dig for the scissors underneath the clutter of my clothes and smile.

When I head downstairs, I find Noah and Santana on the circular couch. When she sees me walking down the steps, I know she has a snarky remark at the tip of her tongue by the way her eyes turn a darker shade. "Did you mug Miley Cyrus?" I look down at my outfit and flush at the sight of the really short shorts I made. The hem line is far above my knee, exposing my bony legs. I know I lack allure, but a guy can try. "Jesus, Hummel, I can see your balls hanging out."

"At least we now know they exits," says Santana and they combust in obnoxious laughter. Funny how after all these years, old habits of teasing me has not died. I ignore them and enter the kitchen when I hear vague cluttering sounds. I reckon it has to be Rachel, but when I push the door open, I wish I hadnt. Blaine is standing behind the kitchen isle, and as if that wasnt bad enough, he is drenched in sweat, and sweat is something Blaine always wore well. He is startled to see me, and his eyes grow wider when he takes in my clothes. I feel exposed under his scrutiny, but a small part feels satisfied at the look on his face. Eat your heart out, Anderson.

"Why are you sweating?" I sheepishly ask. I dont necessarily care, but I figured I could break the cold ice. That, and initiating the conversation puts me in control, and rids the power Blaine has over me. "I just came back from jogging. Its really nice around here."

My second question was going to be about why he was wearing tights, but I guess I have my answer. He looks incredible in them. I only briefly took in his physical attributes earlier, now I can fully wish I didnt have to admit how good he looks. He hasnt gain any height, but he sure did put on some muscle. He used to be skinny, with very subtle muscles from the boxing club he was in, now his muscles are prominent, but discreet too. How does one achieve that? As if hating the past I have with him wasnt enough. The one thing about him that hasnt changed are his stunning eyes. Bright and calm, like a sunset, but I guess even the sun with all its beauty and compassion, is deadly when approached.

"Listen, Kurt, clearly we need to talk," he starts. I really wished I hadnt entered this damn kitchen, and his audacious demeanour to immediately take control arises some form of emotion from me - annoyance. Nonetheless, I choose to take the civilized road and not completely kick him. "I dont want you to feel ambushed or uncomfortable around me. I know thats hard to do considering we havent seen or spoken to each other for a long time, but I dont want to be the reason you hate the rest of the week to come. I just hope that we can both mutually settle on putting Finn and Rachel first because thats really the reason why were both here, and I hope we can just leave our past behind - for the sake of this week."

I have to fight my urge to scoff him away. His audacity to presume that I still live trapped and upset by our past, as if I carried it on my back and allowed it to drag me down, or his schmuck way of thinking that I still care enough about him to let him affect my happiness for my brother and best friend. I feel the heat rushing to my chest. My fists are clenched so hard I could have stopped the blood circulation in my arms, then I realize that I have to play it smart here. If I show my anger, he wins in a technical game Im probably in myself. I inhale, and look him straight in those beautifully cunning eyes of his.

"Peacefully coexist? Sounds good to me, pal," I say before I pluck a grape from the cluster he is carrying in a bowl and stride out of the kitchen, feeling the white hat on my head. I dont know what his reaction is to my indifference, but Im hoping pretty shitty. I spend the rest of the afternoon indulging in meaningless, crude and a little racist conversation topics with Noah and Santana. Sometimes I wonder how we ever got to being friends, then I remember how we never really were. There are real friends, then there are those you realize you merely tolerated once youve left the suffocating hell hole that is high school. Santana and Noah are merely two names out of the long grocery list I have. I havent decided where Blaines name would be. That list, or a hit list.

Rachel and Finn finally decide to crawl out of their room later that evening. You dont need a rocket scientist to know what theyve been doing all day. Blaine has been missing too, but every time I want to bring it up and ask where he is, I realized I shouldnt care. If he wants to leave our messy past behind, Ill do just that. Rachel tells us that there is a chef coming over later, one of the best in the Hamptons, to cook us dinner. She says her father has a lot of strings to pull around here, I remark about here being daddys little rich girl.

I go upstairs and change into something more decent for dinner. Pants with a flowing cape and a breezy black t shirt. When I return downstairs, Blaine the only one ready, sitting on the couch and flipping through a magazine. For some reason, this scene takes me back to when I came down the stairs at my dads house and he is waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. The mere reminder makes me angry at how he was once the person I looked forward to see. Now Im hiding in bathrooms to avoid him. How drastic the game of love can change. When he notices me, a small smile tugs on his lips and I am polite enough to reciprocate the same.

"You look great, as always," he says. I manage a small thank you, but inside Im wondering what his game is. We arent together, and are barely in speaking terms. There is no reason for him to compliment me, unless he realizes I have the white hat and he wants it. Hes a greedy bastard underneath that beauty.

I wish the others wouldnt take so damn long, but Santana alone needs 4 hours to hide the devil horns underneath her weave. I stand at the bottom of the steps, not wanting to go near Blaine because I have no potential alibis around.

I dont really know why I still want to step all over his face, but a small part of me thought he had grown 5000 pounds and picked up smoking after our break up, but he looks 5000 times better now than he ever had before and I wonder - was our break up the best thing that ever happened to him? Because I was a wreck for a long while, but it looks like he walked away unscathed and thats not fair. "I heard were having lobster. But youre allergic to seafood."

"Ill just have wine then," I shrug. Alcohol sounds rather essential after todays turn of events. So he remembers my medical history - that completely makes up for breaking my heart. Santana is first to appear to save me from this maladroit energy. She is dramatic in a silky black gown, but I know better than to question her. "Did I just stumble into a rekindling fire?"

"No, but you could be. The fireplace is right there," I quickly respond. I faintly here Blaine chuckling and contemplate putting them both in the fire and eating popcorn while I watch them both burn. Rachel soon makes her appearance as my saviour and I immediately entwine our arms together and walk out to the patio where the dinner table has been set. Were eating under the stars, with the sea behind us and candles illuminating our faces - all very picturesque until I notice Blaines name written on a place card across from my seat. "Why are there assigned seats? Is the Queen joining us?" I intone because I need to exhibit some form displeasure, otherwise they wont learn that I dont want to be near Blaine.

"Yeah, two queens, actually," says Santana as she takes the seat at the very center. The chef appears from inside the house. He introduces himself as Chef Marco. He looks to be in his late forties with grey hair sticking out of his tall chef hat. At least I know a white hat does exist in my vicinity. He hopes we enjoy his food before excusing himself back into the house. "Wheres Noah and Finn?" ask Santana, but the both of them appear right in that instantly, laughing and punching each others arms. Oh, how the scene takes me way back to high school. "I just cannot believe youre actually marrying him, Rachel - not that you could do any better really, but marrying your high school sweetheart?"

"Whats wrong with marrying my high school sweetheart?" ask Rachel, and she is defensive about it. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her lips are slightly trembling in the way they do when shes holding back a Berry Blow Out.

"In some ideal world, its fine, but you dont know what you want. You havent explored what you truly desire. For all we know you might be into riding corps and leather floggers. You dont know that you want, and I guarantee 5 years down this road, youre going to wish you had tried it all. Like I have," says Santana. I tell her to shut up and stop shoving her convictions down peoples throat, only because Rachel is at the brink of crying. I cant say I completely disagree with Santana, she has a point about not getting into something before knowing what you want.

"Sorry Im late everyone," says Blaine. I hadnt realized he had gotten up, but apparently he had been gone while Santana was reminding everyone what a bitch she can be. He settles down and ask Rachel why she looks so flushed. "Didnt mean to offend you, Berry. I just thought you should be aware that there are other kinks and dicks out there."

"Will you shut up already?" I snap. Its bad enough she planted a seed into Rachels head, now she wont stop watering it. I look over to Finn who, to my surprise, wears the same disgruntled look as Rachel. Damn you, Santana.

The waiter arrives shortly after the tensed silence falls upon our table and I could not be more thankful. I glance over at what theyre carrying and sure enough, each plate sits a respectable sized lobster. Im glad theres white wine and some soup, but when the waiter places my plate in front of me, it is a completely different dish than everyone elses. I frown and ask the waiter why isnt mine a lobster too.

"I sort of told the chef to whip up something else for you, since youre allergic." I look up and it is Blaine, trying to be my savior. I find myself at a loss for words. I should say thank you, but really I just want to fling this plate at him. He is in no position to make decisions for me. What is he trying to prove? That I should be less cold because he still knows me? Fat chance. "Isnt that sweet of little hobbit," says Santana. "So how are you two doing? Must be awkward seeing each other again after your messy past?"

"Come on, Santana. First Rachel, now us? How much ammunition do you still have?" says Blaine. Im glad he has the good sense to tell her off, but it still doesnt change his presumptuous smug demeanor. Nonetheless, I choose to not make a big deal out of it and simply take my fork and stab into the chicken glazed with lemon gravy.

Finn and Noah get the ball rolling by reminiscing on our high school days. They talk about their glory days as studs in McKinley High School. They were "top dogs" there. In the world of athletes, Blaine was a puppy because he did take up a sport, just not one that was very popular. Ours was the ordinary social order with the athletes taking the throne at the very top, and the debate team the very bottom. Me. Then there was the Glee club, our little space in school called the choir room where there was no social order. I called it the idealistic world. When I graduated and found myself in the Big Apple, thats when I realized what idealistic truly meant.

"Remember when Kurt did that weird one man show?" says Finn. There was once in Glee club where the assignment was to sing a duet with someone, but we had an odd number of members, so I sang a duet on my own. It was before Blaine transferred from his weird all boys school. "I was magnificent and you know it, Hudson."

"Nobody wanted to sing with you, Kurt. You can lie and hide under the whole I dont need anyone but me pretense, but we know the truth," says Santana. I roll my eyes and wondered if I had secretly traveled back in time, back when I was the board for everyones dart. "I would have transferred in earlier just to sing with him if I had known. Kurt has a beautiful voice."

Of course, its Blaine seizing the opportunity to remind me what a good person he is. Was the theme for this dinner Insult Kurt So Blaine Can Sought His Role As Kurts Knight? I swallow back the sharp words I have for him, and simply laugh it off. The rest of dinner is spent with Rachel telling us her wedding plans, with Santana shooting everything down by calling her ideas mediocre and totally self-indulgent. Have I really traveled back in time? I avoid looking at Blaine, which is a really hard thing to do considering he is sitting right in front of me with his annoying, charming smile that tempts my vision. I created a game by placing a wine bottle in front of me and promised that if I looked behind the bottle, I would down a glass. I drank 10 times.

Rachel is off to bed first. When she leaves, I catch a glimpse of her face and I cannot put my finger on it, but something tells me she is bothered by what Santana said about marrying her high school sweetheart. Finn and Puck figured the night was too early so they decide to head down to a pub not too far from here. To my surprise, Blaine ask to tag along. I wonder briefly if his objective is to get away from me, or maybe the wine has officially gotten into my head. "So really, lets talk about hobbit being here. How are you cool with it?" ask Santana once everyone has left and it is just the two of us. "Im here for Finn and Rachel, not him," I point out to her but she scoffs.

"Have you spoken to him at all since the break-up heard around the world?" ask Santana. I sigh heavily and establish that I am officially drunk to be willing to open this Pandora box. "No, I havent spoken to him. I make it a point to not speak to people who hurt me."

"Boy, thats some really deep shit. So why dont you just take off? Why stick around?"

"Because of Rachel and Finn," I answer. A mysterious smile plays across Santanas face. I frown at her and ask, "Whats so amusing?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, feigning an air of nonchalance. She wraps her fur coat over her shoulders and scrapes the legs of her chair on the plywood floor as she gets to her feet. "I have a different theory about you choose to stay, but Im going to let you figure that one out on your own," says Santana before she leaves me alone at the dinner table, slightly tipsy and very confused.