Blaine stood there for a moment, feeling the cold air hit his face as the door of the hotel was opened and closed, people flitting in and out. Kurt had long gone, Blaine's eyes no longer looking in his direction, rather feeling the cold, feeling the isolation as if it was completely alien and unknown.

After a while Sebastian came out of the party to find Blaine remaining by the door and he called to him, encouraged him to come back, to enjoy the flow and the buzz. Blaine shook his head, prepared his face again and returned to the room, soon grabbing a drink from a waiter and downing it in one. The night was young and there was no time to waste.

Sebastian would look over at Blaine every so often, just the hint of sadness showing in his body as he chatted and laughed with others. Blaine joked and wandered the room, flitting from one group to another as if he belonged there and wanted nothing more than to show that he had a right to be there too. Sebastian lost interest after a while, knowing that if Blaine was interested later he would find him and he flitted too.

Blaine had been to enough of these parties to realise that perfection was all important but actually easily achieved. The illusion of happiness or at least contentment was easily believed, no one wanting to really know or understand if you felt otherwise. If Blaine felt a little off, who would notice? If Blaine's face didn't light up quite as quickly as the others when someone made a witty comment, who was to say? Everyone wanted to believe the good feeling so they did.

As Blaine slipped off much later, completely gone and inebriated, barely able to walk straight, no one really noticed or if they did, nothing was said or mentioned. Sebastian saw Blaine stumble by the hotel door as he collected his coat and for a single moment he considered helping to take him home but held back. Blaine was a big boy he reasoned and it would be much more hassle than it was worth. Blaine was sure to be too drunk for even light groping in the back of a taxi.

As it happened, Blaine didn't even make it to a taxi before he stumbled again and decided the shop doorstep that he had discovered on his way to the ground would be a suitable place to remain for the foreseeable future. It felt cold on his cheek as he nestled further down but he decided he liked the chill compared to the warmth of the party. He simply wanted a rest and it was far too much effort to get up again and attempt to walk to a taxi. He woke a few hours later, light beginning to creep up along the sides of the building on a new day and the noise of the early traffic shaking him awake harshly. His shirt was crumpled and upon inspection Blaine noticed he had spilt a dark liquid along his front. His neck couldn't be moved comfortably and his head was banging, a horrible taste of old carpet in his mouth if he tried to swallow. He sat, sitting on the shop doorstep, his head rested in his hands until the dizziness subsided and he thought he might be able to manage getting up and walking. He stood, blinked against the light and gingerly looked for a taxi. Spotting one at the end of the street he walked a little faster and collapsed on the back seat, mumbling where to be taken and hoping that he could crawl into bed and never wake up.

Blaine finally woke the following afternoon in his own bed and thankfully alone. He sat up in stages, leaning his head in his hands for a while, then standing and finally stumbling slowly to get water and pills. After making such an effort to get out of bed he didn't fancy going back so he made it to the sofa and pulled a blanket over his legs. It wasn't particularly cold but the comfort of being under cover and unseen was too much. He turned on the television to watch something mindless. The thought of leaving the apartment, even for food suddenly felt overwhelming and he decided if he needed anything he would order in. Having a few days off seemed the perfect way to forget he was alive.

Except he couldn't switch off. His brain kept reliving moments he was sure he had erased by drinking so much alcohol. The only thing that had been achieved instead was pausing his evening, as if frozen at exactly the moment Kurt rejected him and turned away, leaving him to watch the door of the hotel in silence. He couldn't remember the rest of the evening.

He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. He knew that he could have had any gay guy at that party. He was on fire, he knew that – the charm, the easy smile and confidence made him ooze beauty and he noticed many guys, including Sebastian checking him out and wondering what they had to do to get close, to slink closer. But Blaine looked around, noticed the eager young things and the older wiser pros and it all sickened him as he left. His smile never left his face but it suddenly seemed so tawdry and empty that he left only to burrow away in his apartment. As he watched the mindless chatter on the daytime talk show images of Kurt's face still flitted across his mind – the haughty expression, his back showing strength and power as he walked away. Blaine was left to wonder if he had imagined that flicker he thought he had witnessed before Kurt's guard went up. Was that desire? Were Kurt's eyes dark and smouldering, just like Blaine knew his own must have been?

God he wanted him and he was in trouble.

Kurt woke late morning the following day safely ensconced in the loving embrace of Bruce his boyfriend arm and wandered to the kitchen for juice. He could hear Rachel practicing her scales in the shower, her high notes making him realise this was what had woken him from his enjoyable dream which had started to come back in flashes as he stared out the high window of the apartment space he shared with Rachel. Warm lips on his, skin touching, hands groping and although it was only flashes of images, he knew it was Blaine and he touched his lips with his fingers as if he could chase the ghost of the dream as he stood there. Rachel came out to start coffee, a towel around her body and her pink shower cap on her head.

"I just need the bathroom for a few more minutes," she said as she bustled around the kitchen.

"Don't worry about it," Kurt said, broken out of his reverie and starting to get his cereal. "I don't have to be anywhere today."

"Well I've only got a few classes today, do you want to grab coffee later?"

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Oh I forgot to mention," she said turning her head to face him, "A few of us are going to Callbacks tonight. Do you fancy going?"

"Oh I don't know," Kurt said, his eyes hovering over his cereal, "I don't think it's my kind of scene."

"Don't be ridiculous Kurt," she said, walking away in the hope that Kurt would finish making the coffee, "You haven't been in ages and I miss hearing you sing."

Truth be told, Kurt had deliberately avoided singing in public for quite a while as his modelling profile rose. He didn't want the unnecessary publicity, the added worry that he would embarrass himself and if he was honest it reminded him too much of his shattered dreams, ones that seemed so far away now.

"Please," Rachel whined, coming closer to kneel at Kurt's feet and look up at him with her big brown eyes. Kurt sighed.

"Ok," he said, knowing full well that she knew he couldn't resist.

"Excellent," she said, jumping up and clapping her hands excitedly. "You know you love it when you're there. It's so different from those stupid parties you go to."

Kurt nodded in agreement as she went back to the bathroom to finish her rituals. Kurt had tried to bring Rachel along to a few of his parties but she was so in awe of the beautiful models she couldn't hold interesting conversations with anyone that tried. She was more beautiful in Kurt's opinion than any of those thin girls with porcelain features and cheekbones to die for but Rachel didn't seem to think so. Their lofty nature and air of coldness had Rachel in a rare moment of silence and Kurt hadn't suggested another party. He'd rather stay at home with her anyway.

Blaine must have drifted off to sleep on the sofa as he was startled awake by a sharp collection of knocks on his front door and as his legs were tangled in the blankets, he tripped and fell landing on his knees. Cursing he stumbled to the door.

"What is it?" Blaine asked harshly as he pulled the door open and faced an embarrassed looking Nick.

"I've been banging on your door for ages," he said, walking in confidently once Blaine knew who it was. "Didn't you hear?"

"I was asleep," Blaine muttered as he followed Nick to his living room.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked, looking around at the dishevelled room – the dropped blanket, the television on and the littered remnants of take-aways and cans of diet soda.

"Relaxing, chilling," Blaine said, a hint of defensiveness in his voice, "I don't get to do a lot of that at the moment."

Nick took the only seat that wasn't covered in litter and looked up at Blaine, his eyes patiently waiting for Blaine to add more detail. When none came he started again.

"You need a cleaner," Nick said simply.

"Look is there a reason you came to disturb my peaceful afternoon?" Blaine said, wrapping himself in his protective blanket.

"No," Nick said, "Do I need a reason?"

"No I guess not, it's just you're usually round here to tell me off or ask me to do something. It's normally work related."

Nick looked a little hurt. He hadn't realised and he smiled sadly. Blaine looked shattered, his skin looking sallow and unwashed. Nick knew he hadn't been looking after himself and the recent picture of Blaine stumbling out of the hotel two weeks ago had just been brought to his attention. Surely he hadn't been that obsessed with the job, that unaware of his friend?

"No Blaine, I'm just here," he said quietly, "How have you been?"

Blaine looked a little startled at the question and smiled slowly.

"I've been better and I certainly must have looked better," he said chuckling slightly.

"You do look a little worse for wear," Nick said smiling too, feeling more at ease, less attacked, "Good night?" he smirked.

"Something like that," Blaine said, his defences instantly up. He did not want to discuss this at all.

"Oh?"

"Just a party, the usual," Blaine said, trying for nonchalance and going back to the television but Nick saw through it.

"How did the shoot with Hummel go?" Blaine instantly sat up, his knees tucked in. "Why, what did you hear?"

"Nothing," Nick said, looking surprised, "I know I had to find out about the hotel visit the hard way but I don't have sources of gossip surrounding you Blaine."

Blaine realised how stupid he was being and relaxed a little.

"Why so defensive?" Nick asked, looking worried. "I'm not out to get you Blaine, I promise."

"I know, I know," Blaine said, realising he had sounded paranoid. "There are just quite a few people I don't trust at the moment. I guess I forgot you were one of the good guys."

Nick was hurt but didn't show it. He knew he had been pushing Blaine recently, shoot after shoot, party after party. He was merely tired and overworked and he had forgotten their warbler days and the times before things had gotten complicated. He suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Why don't we go out tonight?" Nick said excitedly, "I'll call up a couple of the guys and suggest a good quiet karaoke bar where we can sing. Just like the good old days."

"I don't know," Blaine started.

"Come on Blaine, it'll be so different from the parties you usually go to, I promise."

Blaine thought about it for a moment, then looked at Nick, so eager and happy at the thought of a good night out and he couldn't say no. He nodded his head in agreement.

"Ok but only if you help me get dinner while I clean myself up," he said, getting up, already feeling a little lighter at having some company tonight.

"And clean my apartment," he shouted on his way to the shower.

Once he was changed, the prospect of a good night at an obscure bar with old friends had Blaine feeling alive, energy zinging through his veins again. Blaine was so used to slicking down his curly locks for photo shoots, people so used to seeing him in a certain way, he was able to go out to an obscure place, his hair curly but tamed with slight gel, and not really be bothered. The occasional fan would ask for an autograph or a photo if he was out and recognised but in a place such as Callbacks, where the students were young and hopeful of their own careers, they realised it paid to be casual and carefree. No one bothered Blaine as he sat at a table and waited with Nick. David and Jeff had been free, Wes too caught up with work to make it at such short notice. It had been a while since either David or Jeff had seen Blaine so he was roughly greeted with a hug as they entered and everyone stared at them and laughed.

"Gosh Blaine," Jeff said laughing, "It's true then, you really do brush up good."

Blaine laughed and tapped his arm playfully. He had missed them both, their lightness making him realise he had tucked himself away from the real world in favour of the emptiness and he could feel himself get a little teary at the thought that he had let it slip away. He made a silent promise to be better at maintaining his friendships.

They sat there for a while, chatting, laughing, catching up and Blaine finally felt like he'd never been away from them. Nick noticed the change in Blaine's demeanour and he smiled, ordering more drinks.

"I think we need to sing," Nick said suddenly, "Show these amateurs what it's all about," he chuckled.

Jeff and David instantly liked the idea but Blaine held back.

"Oh I don't know," he muttered, "I mean what if it got out?"

"What that you're a good singer and you have fun?" Nick said mocking. "Come on Blaine, live a little. In fact it might boost your career," he said joking.

"Come on," Jeff said, already standing and about to request a song from Pascal. "You only live once."

Blaine stood and laughed, thinking he'd probably regret it but he soon found himself singing Teenage Dream, like all those years before; Nick, David and Jeff in the background and soon the crowd were asking for more. Misery had everyone calling out warbler cries and laughing and no one noticed Kurt and Rachel enter.

"I don't believe it," Kurt whispered as his eyes lighted on Blaine.

"What?" Rachel asked, coming closer so she could hear above the laughter and the singing.

"I know him," Kurt said, "Although he looks totally different now," he said still shaking his head in disbelief. They took a seat by the bar, Rachel ordering drinks, Kurt unable to turn his eyes away. It was only as Blaine, Jeff, David and Nick stood down from the stage that Blaine saw Kurt standing by the bar and he froze.

Blaine stared in disbelief for a while and eventually walked over towards a smiling Kurt.

"Kurt," he said stating the obvious as he got closer. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said smiling confidently.

"Hi, I'm Rachel." She handed Kurt his drink and took Blaine's hand in hers, shaking it. "How do you two know each other?"

"He's a model," they said together and chuckled nervously. This was a new situation for both of them and Kurt realised he was finally seeing the real Blaine again, the one that had been hidden at the party. As Blaine stood awkwardly at the bar, Kurt realised the slight blush and nervous behaviour suited him. He was in fact adorable.

"Do you come here often?" Blaine asked and Kurt smirked when Blaine realised what he had said and cringed. "I mean, do you.... This place...."

"Yeah, I've been here before but only once or twice. Rachel goes to NYADA," Kurt said smiling kindly.

"Oh that's great," Blaine said. "Right I'd better get back to my friends," he said nervously after an awkward pause. "I mean they'll be wondering where I got to."

"Oh yeah, see you around Blaine," Kurt said. Blaine turned slightly, nodding his head in recognition of Kurt's words but not knowing what to say in reply. This was a completely alien feeling to Blaine. No man had ever made him feel disarmed and so nervous. Blaine, the confident model who oozed sex appeal and charm, who could make any ordinary human melt was now a puddle of goo. Kurt Hummel who could see right through his façade and pulled him up on it suddenly made him feel alive with something akin to butterflies in his stomach and bubbles under his skin. He returned to Nick in a daze.

"Was that Hummel I saw you with at the bar?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Yeah, Kurt," Blaine said, drinking slowly from his glass.

"Oh it's Kurt now is it?" Nick said smirking slightly. Blaine looked up when he noticed.

"No it's not like that," Blaine said blushing again, "I just said some embarrassing things last night that I want to forget."

"Oh, like what?" Jeff asked casually.

"Didn't you just hear the part about wishing to forget," Blaine said downing his drink. He saw Kurt move to his own table with Rachel and the idea that Kurt's lasting impression of him would be last night's comments, his hard lips on his own and whispered pleas in his ear made Blaine stand, clunking the glass back down on the table.

"I'm going to sing again," Blaine said and Nick and the others looked up at him in surprise. Before they could reply he was off. Kurt could see him stand and approach Pascal again and he didn't have long to wait to hear what he was going to sing. The choice was quite a surprise to Kurt who sat forward in his seat, his mouth slightly open.

When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

Blaine tried not to sing directly at Kurt, his voice smooth enough to sink into Kurt's bones and stay there. A few people at the bar seemed to recognise Blaine as he stood there and they whispered to themselves, checking they were correct.

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

I wish I was special

You're so fucking special

The use of the swear caused Kurt's breath to hitch and he couldn't believe Blaine had chosen this song, such an antithesis of what they both stood for in their professions that Blaine seemed to be offering a proverbial middle finger to the world.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts

I want to have control

I want a perfect body

I want a perfect soul

Kurt smiled slightly. He knew Blaine had a perfect body but being a model you always worried it would be taken away, would disappear and you would be left with nothing but a personality that no one was interested in. Kurt knew there was more to Blaine than his cocky comments and sex appeal but he was actually intrigued enough to have a proper conversation now, if Blaine allowed him to get that little bit closer.

I want you to notice

When I'm not around

You're so fucking special

I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here

Whatever makes you happy

Whatever you want

You're so fucking special

I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here

I don't belong here

Kurt applauded, after a beat of silence, when everyone else joined in too. Those that had recognised Blaine seemed to look confused. Why was this model singing about being a creep and a weirdo when he clearly had everything he had ever wanted? But Kurt understood and Rachel looked closely at Kurt and leant in closer to whisper in his ear.

"He's a little strange," she said, "I like it."

Kurt laughed. He decided he'd make it easier for Blaine and get new drinks for himself and Rachel and sure enough as Blaine came down from the stage, he walked towards Kurt and leant on the bar.

"So what do you think?" Blaine asked, just a hint of worry was evident in his voice, a lot of his confidence returning as he had sung.

"Oh it was impressive I guess," Kurt said shrugging his shoulders, well aware that Blaine was covering. "I've seen better."

"Oh of course Hummel," Blaine said laughing and Kurt smiled. The use of his surname was starting to do things to Kurt. "I'm sure you have. Care to show me how's it done?"

Kurt rarely refused a challenge. Rachel's challenge of Defying Gravity and his later win with Bring Him Home brought out his inner diva but he had thought he was above such petty competitions now. He didn't need to show everyone how awesome he was, they should already know but as he looked at Blaine's cocky expression, remembering those pink lips on his own the night before and how intoxicating it had felt to be so close, he could only try to match the confident smile.

"Oh I could show you how it's done in my sleep," Kurt said. "You want to see the real Kurt Hummel now Anderson? Think you can handle this?" he said, pointing one fantastic finger along his own jutting collarbone and chest, skimming down his thigh. Blaine's eyes followed the finger, making him swallow. He suddenly wanted to be that finger.

"I think I can handle it," Blaine said, though he swallowed again. Kurt nodded and walked up to the stage, whispering in Pascal's ear. He stood facing the crowd, the piano playing and he smirked slightly as Blaine stood by the bar, eyes transfixed.

I've seen the world
Done it all
Had my cake now
Diamonds, brilliant
In Bel Air now
Hot summer nights, mid July
When you and I were forever wild
The crazy days, city lights
The way you'd play with me like a child

Kurt's voice was mesmerising. Blaine knew his voice would be high, but he couldn't comprehend how beautiful it was, just like his perfect complexion and blue grey eyes, and he stared straight at him. No shame, no fear now. He wanted Kurt and he didn't dare shy away from the feeling.

Will you still love me
When I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me
When I got nothing but my aching soul?
I know you will, I know you will
I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

It was almost like a challenge and Blaine suddenly panicked that he wouldn't be able to do it. He wanted desperately to show he was more than Kurt had assumed, more than the persona he had created but he didn't really know how. The thought of everyone discovering him for the fake he was scared him more than anything.

I've seen the world, lit it up
As my stage now
Channelling angels in a new age now
Hot summer days, rock n roll
The way you play for me at your show
And all the ways I got to know
Your pretty face and electric soul

Will you still love me
When I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me
When I got nothing but my aching soul?
I know you will, I know you will
I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

All that grace, all that body
All that face makes me wanna party
He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

And will you still love me
When I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me
When I got nothing but my aching soul?
I know you will, I know you will
I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

Kurt's applause actually out-weighed Blaine's and Kurt's stunned expression made Blaine want to completely lose all control and fall hard. Blaine remained at the bar as Kurt approached, his expression questioning what he had believed to be true.

"So what did you think?" Kurt asked with just a hint of shyness behind the cocky expression.

"I think you're beautiful," Blaine whispered and although Kurt had heard it thousands of times before from the sycophants and photographers, the comment from Blaine made his face flush in embarrassment. Blaine took the chance.

"Do you want to escape?" he asked, and Kurt had the feeling he was asking to escape so much more than just the bar. He swallowed nervously and nodded.