BLAINE

August 31

The phrase walk of shame is painfully accurate, Blaine decides as he sneaks into his dorm room at eight a.m. His clothes are wrinkled and stained with an unknown liquid, his hair is in disarray, his eyes red and stinging from smoke and lack of sleep.

"Dude, you look like crap," Blaine's roommate says as he looks up from his laptop.

So much for being sneaky. Blaine quietly closes the door behind himself.

"Gee, thanks." His voice is rough this morning, strained, and he'd rather not remember why, apart from the karaoke last night.

Dropping his bag on the bed, he grabs a towel and his shower caddy. He has to make himself presentable for work, and fast. He'd rather cancel the lesson, the mere thought of little Jessica enthusiastically murdering her piano assignments for an hour makes his splitting headache worse, but he's been irresponsible enough in the last 24 hours. Calling in sick because he has a hangover from hell would be the typical student thing to do, and Blaine is determined to build up his reputation as a piano and guitar tutor rather than ruin it so early in the school year. He might really need the money one day.

The hot water is a blessing on his strained muscles, even if it stings his back, little half-moon cuts and long shallow scratches down his side fresh enough to burn like fire. He reaches to wash them thoroughly, then slides his soapy hand lower, towards another source of discomfort. Gentle clean-up of the still tender flesh brings back a slew of pictures and memories that only serve to turn his already unsettled stomach.

Why did he think this was a good idea?

Sure, it was fun while it lasted, in the heat of the moment. It made the feeling of being lonely even among his new friends fade for a bit, made him really feel something for a few hours. Momentary closeness, a bit of affection, frantic kisses and touches fueled by alcohol – it was nice. The sex was hot, if slightly too rough for Blaine's liking. And falling asleep with another person, sated and exhausted, seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

But in the morning, it left him feeling worse than ever.

It wasn't Blaine's first hook-up since he arrived in New York; there have been several before. Nor was it his first drunken hook-up – there was always someone to buy alcohol in the student-frequented bars.

It wasn't even his first gay hook-up. (It was his second, if he wanted to be precise, though the first one didn't go quite that far.)

But this particular act–

Up until last night, this was Kurt's thing. No one else's.

Did he think that if he let someone else inside, they would make him feel the way Kurt did? That he'd manage to somehow replace Kurt's touches, or the way Kurt made love to him, gently, reverently, like Blaine was the most precious thing in the whole universe?

Why would he want to replace it?

Because I need to move on. He's gone. He won't ever be back.

The answer swirls through Blaine's head, his thoughts clearer now, as if the water washed away the fog from his brain as well as the sweat from his body. The words make sense, rationally, familiar for the number of times he'd told himself so since March. But however true they may be, this is not the way. Spending nights with strangers just because he's fleetingly attracted to them won't make being in New York without Kurt any less painful. It will only make him numb and bitter.

He can't force Kurt out of his heart, and he can't even imagine loving anyone else until he does. Without some kind of closure. And what closure can he have? The creased, tear-stained letter – note really – from a year ago is still the only thing he's gotten from Kurt since he disappeared with Rachel, and after all this time, Blaine really doubts there will ever be anything else. For all he knows, they may really be dead by now. And even if they aren't, Kurt has surely forgotten about him.

So why can't Blaine move on? Find someone else to make him feel whole again?

With a quick flick of his wrist, he turns the water to icy cold and grinds his teeth against the startled shout that tries to escape his throat.

He will survive. He's going to start his classes at Tisch in a few days. He'll focus on that, and his work, and new friends, and using his time in college to the fullest in ways other than drinking and sleeping around.

And if time indeed heals, one day he'll find himself ready to love again.

But now...

Now he needs coffee, actually.

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Blaine's theme song: All I Want by Kodaline