MAKE SHIT UP. PRETEND IT IS TRUE.

  Ive never really liked hospitals. Ever since I was kid theyve just given me the creeps. People go in sick, which is gross, then they die which is sad and sometimes a little gross, too. It would have sucked if the guy I was waiting for died. I didnt know him at all, but I got him there for him to live. If I hadnt cared, I wouldve left him lying on the street. That is what Id do with most people. Walking home late in New York nightly, its not rare to come across people drunk off their asses. Yet, something about this guy seemed distinctly different. When I first glimpsed him, I would not have even guessed that had been drinking. His clothes were tidy, a bowtie fastened at his neck. Besides, it was maybe 8 or 9 at the time. The night was practically a baby.

   I think the moment I understood to help was when I looked in his sunken eyes. As Id passed, the man had all but collapsed over on me with his feverish body. Apologizing, he attempted to stagger away. He was walking as though hed just taken a long spin on a tire swing, tripping on his own feet.

   "Thats okay." I thought replying to him would let me shrug it off and go home. Then I got a closer look and I realized I wouldnt be able to sleep at night if I didnt help him. His shirt was wrinkled at the collar, the bowtie askew. Locks of hair were slipping out of a well-attended style, sweeping over his paling face. And his eyes; bloodshot, watery, sorry.

   I did everything I could to get him there, carrying him down the streets until an available cab passed us. And then theyre making me wait in the hospital, while hes attended to in some far away room. I didnt even know whats wrong.

BLAINES POV

   I glare at the gross slush they want me to drink. They call it charcoal. I call it the piss of satan. Clearly Im better at naming things.

   "Blaine, did you hear me?" My doctor inquires.

   "Yes." I croak out. My voice was still hoarse from throwing up. Throwing up a lot, actually. "I just dont have a good answer, I guess." Why did I drink? Why would anyone with chronic kidney disease drink? Maybe because theyre stupid and sad and thought drinking would be less boring. "Im sorry." I supply.

   Doctor Bray smiles apathetically, then she sighs. I wont like where this is headed. "Im afraid sorry wont cut it this time, Blaine. Youve done some pretty significant damage." She flips through the pages on her clipboard, before flipping it shut again. "Your conditions have worsened, moving you into stage five of the disease. Blaine, we call this End Stage. Its the point when we start losing patients." Hearing that was like the floor had been pull out from under me. "Theres not much we can do anymore. I would put you back on dialysis, but that would only aggravate your anemia." Perhaps, I thought, screaming at her would help. Maybe then thered be more she could do. Yet, I remained silent. "At this point, you have three months," No. "Maybe four."

   "Then, thats it?" I always knew Id die young. But 28 is not what Id had in mind. There are things I have planned, stuff I want to do. I havent seen the end of Gilmore Girls on Netflix. My new shoes havent come in the mail yet. Theres still leftover Chinese food in my fridge. I never even got to write a bucket list, let alone complete one.

   "You are still on the list for a kidney. There might be a new donor in the next few months." Next few months. All I have left is the next few months and Ive done shit with my life. "You have to stay optimistic, Blaine. Keep in mind your diet. Stay on the medication. And, I dont know, splurge a little. It might be your last chance." Shes right. I could be dead. I lived, though, and its time I do something with that. Maybe move to another country or learn a new skill or something. Or everything. "Is there anything I can get you for now?"

   "A donor." I joke, but she just looks sad. Clearing my throat, I begin again. "I need paper and a pen, please."

   Doctor Bray hands me her pen and a free sheet of paper from the back of her notepad. "Anything else?"

   There is. While my memory of tonight is distorted, I distinctly remember someone being with me. It was a man. The farther Id slip under, I would hear him speaking to me, begging me to stay with him. He brought me here, I know that much. "Someone was with me when I came in here, right?" Doctor Bray nods. "Can I meet him?"

KURTS POV

   By the time the doctor came around to me, I was close to running back there myself to demand information. In hindsight, its a good thing I didnt. I mean, I didnt even know this guy, but you cant blame me for having wanted him to not die.

   "Mr. Hummel?" The doctor clarified. I didnt waste time speaking, just nodded and promoted her to continue. "The good news is that Blaines conditions have stabilized; it was just a mild case of dehydration."

   I nodded again. That was promising, but it left more to be desired. Nothing is ever just good. "Whats the bad news?"

   "Im sorry, but Im not at liberty to discuss it with you." She held the little notepad she carried closer to herself. My fingers were itching to take it and run. Read it, all of it, even the stuff that wasnt about Blaine. Blaine. So, I saved the life of some guy named Blaine. Thats got to be worth something, right?

   "He asked to meet you, if youd like." Of course Id like. Quietly, I followed the doctor down to that far away place, which was actually rather close. She stopped at the third door of a short hallway and knocked lightly. "Go in when youre ready." She reassured me.

   I had smiled warmly at her, gently easing open the door. I didnt understand why she was making this more dramatic than necessary. It was just some guy I didnt know; Blaine. Not my first born child on their death bed. I was ready then. At least I thought I was. But no one is ever really prepared to see Blaine. Ive learned that.

   The most striking thing was the dark circles under his eyes, although that was clearly not a permanent feature. Contrasting the deep bags were his actual eyes. They were burning with life, which seemed strange for someone who narrowly escaped death. I also took note that his hair had been fixed and he was looking less pale and shriveled, yet still sickly.

   He grinned at me. "Hi, Im Blaine and Id like to thank you for saving my life." Still smiling rather triumphantly, he sipped from a cup at his bedside, then cringed. "How can I repay you?"

   "Oh." I hadnt realized Id saved the most abrupt man in America. He certainly did not beat around the bush. "You dont have to give me anything. It was really all the doctors, I just brought you here."

   I was being modest. He wasnt easy to get there.

BLAINES POV

   He is being modest. I can tell. "Well, considering I could be dead right now, I think what you did is pretty amazing." He attempts to wave off my praise, but Im not letting him. "Honestly, words can not express my gratitude. Which is why I am going to give you the ultimate thank you gift." I can feel the excitement bubbling up inside of me, however he still looks lost and now a little apprehensive.

   "What exactly would that be?" Hes leaning in, which I assume is with intrigue.

   My faces is betraying me, breaking out into an enthralled grin. "You get to pick! Its part of my list." I suppose I didnt have to mention the list, but now I have, so its too late.

   "The list?" God, change that to very apprehensive. Please dont think its a hit list.

   "Yeah...I made a bucket list."

   He crinkles together his eyebrows. "Arent those for people who are old and dying?"

   "Uhm yeah." For a moment the mans concern is growing and hes about to speak, but I cut him off. "I just thought it would be fun, since....I couldve died. You know, life is short." Im making it all up as I go, because I have zero plan except for dont let him know that I, too, am dying.

   "Oh, well thats cool." Hes nodding. "Can I see it? Unless its too personal."

   "Sure, I dont mind. Here, have a seat." Although there really arent any seats to have. So, he just sits on the end of my hospital bed, rather awkwardly. When I hand him my list, Im watching him read over it. Hes grinning after only a second or two and I think its the "ride the big kid rides" that gets him. But, some of them make him blush and I would be blushing, too, if I wasnt about to die.

   After a few moments of silence as he reads, he starts looking at me. "Youre not actually going to do all of these, right?"

   "Well, why not?"

   Now, he seems a little irritated. "Why not? White water rafting, jumping off a cliff, skydiving?" Youll get yourself killed!"

   "Im supposed to be dead now anyways."

   "I didnt save you just so you could die doing something stupid! Or get arrested. Some of these are illegal, you know."

   "I know. But, think of it this way: I just cheated death. What else could I get away with?" Im trying to get him on my side without giving him the truth. Although, his opinion does matter little. We hardly know each other; he cant judge me.

   "Youre not invincible." He is, however, judging me very much.

   "And youre not stopping me from going."

  "Fine." Thank god. "Then Im coming with you." Im shooting him a dubious look as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Consider it my thank you gift."

  "Fine." I find myself shooting back to him before I have time to process.

   "Fine."

   "Fine." I tear a corner off the paper and scribble down my phone number. "Call in three days. Ill let you know what to pack then."

   "Alright."

   "Alright."

  "Goodbye, Blaine."

  "Goodbye."

   Fuck, what was his name?