He guessed he should be some sort of kind to the man, since he gave him an apartment for cheap and helped him get a job when he first arrived, so he owed him. But he really hated how much he complained. Which was basically every second.

The door to his cramped apartment flew open, crashing against the cracked wall, knocking a frame that held nothing but a piece of black paper to the ground. "What is this?" the tall, floppy haired man asked, shaking a chocolate ice cream container in the air as he walked up to the mattress Blaine used as a bed. Blaine removed the pillow and turned his head so he could look at Sam, shrugging his shoulders.�

"An ice cream container?" So it was going to be one of those days.

Sam threw the container at Blaine, hitting him in the shoulder blade before the soggy cardboard bounced to the ground. "Exactly. That's exactly what it is. And you know what I say about that kind of food."

Of course Blaine did. Sam never stopped nagging him about it. Sam was a health freak. Even after he had offed himself, he still worried about his weight and getting fat. Though there was no possible way for him to gain weight and ruin his perfectly toned body.

Which Blaine had to be face to face with all day since Sam seemed to not own even one shirt.

Blaine had decided that even though Sam had been in the Beyond longer than him, he was still in the denial stage. Denial that he was dead.

Which was absolute rubbish, since everyone here knew they were dead. Since they were the one's who did it themselves. But Sam seemed like he was in denial over it, so that's how Blaine would see it.

But Sam still watched what he ate, and he forced Blaine to do the same. Though Blaine constantly went out to eat behind his back since he couldn't really keep him from the delicious food he could now eat without worrying about how he'd look. Not that he was really trying to impress anyone here anyway. Sam had constantly thrown junk food containers and wrappers at him whenever he found them. He'd demand for Blaine to apologize, then he would go through his usual speech of the use of healthy living and how it'll help you look better as you age.

Which was another thing that made Blaine believe Sam was in denial.

See. In the world of the Beyond, no one aged. No one gained weight. They looked exactly how they looked when they offed themselves. Worrying over weight was ridiculous, and Blaine knew it. But it seemed to get Sam to sleep at night, so good for him.

Now, what is the world of the Beyond, you ask?

It's the world that happens when someone kills themselves. No matter how it happened, you'll end up there. People may find it fascinating at first, a whole new world to explore and learn. It was like you didn't even die. But it's much more different from the world of the Living. Cities and towns are sparse, large expanses of desert between just two cities. No one knows how big the world is. People never have the energy to find it out. Food and gas and electricity aren't generated and made like they are in the world of the Living. It just appears in the stores and gas stations and houses. Money is still used, though it is mostly used to get better places to live, or nicer food or new clothes. Everything else was just a mess. Cracked and broken. Finding something new and shiny wasn't something that happened in the world of the Beyond.

Even the colors of the world are dimmed, darker. No one seems to smile. No one ever seems happy. It is hell.

But everyone is afraid to kill themselves. They are afraid that if they off themselves again that they'll get thrown into a world even worse than this one. So people just amble around in a daily stupor, trying to do something to occupy themselves.

After Blaine offed himself he had woken up in the middle of a street, naked and sweating. That's where Sam found him as he did his monthly walk of the highways looking for new people. He had given Blaine clothes and gave him his apartment and gotten him a job with the pizzeria down the block.

That's been his life for the past month. He'd wake up, get dressed, go down to the pizzeria, then go home. He occupied himself in his spare time with thoughts of Nathan. On how he had probably found a new boyfriend. A new boyfriend who helped him forget all about Blaine. The thought was a cruel one for Blaine, but he knew it was probably true. Maybe a boyfriend who actually put out for once...

The sharp sound of a bell going off shook him out of his stupor and he straightened up at his counter to look at the customers at the register. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands before moving to stand in front of register. Two men stood on the other side, discussing together as they pointed at the rickety sign above Blaine's head. "Welcome to Kamikaze Pizza. What would you like?" Blaine used his usual monotone for the welcome he said about 100 times a day.

The men took a quick look at each other before the burlier man leaned forward, resting hand on the counter and tapping his fingers against the counter. "A pepperoni and mushroom pizza. Large. With two Cokes."

Blaine typed the order into the old fashioned register before him and hit the button to open the money drawer. "That will be five dollars and twenty cents." The man handed him a 10 and Blaine hurried to give back his change before heading into the back to grab a pizza. He stopped at the cooler on the way out to grab two vintage glass Coke bottles before heading back to the counter. "Large pepperoni and mushroom. And two Cokes."

That's how Blaine's day was, always. The rest of the day was full of similar orders, and many stolen pieces of pizza on his part. When it was time for him to leave, he took off and folded his apron, grabbing his check from Mr. Hung, his boss, before leaving through the glass door. Walking was the usual way to get around in these parts of the world of the Beyond. Cars were expensive and even then they were rusted up hunks of junk, so it was much more safer to go on foot. As he walked back to his apartment, he passed a bar labeled COWBOY LUKES. He stopped and stared up in amusement at the name. The names of businesses around here were so entertaining sometimes. He shrugged before stepping into the small bar, coughing as he swallowed a mouthful of smoke filtered air. He looked around at the metal tables, and booths, seeing that the place was scarcely populated at the moment, most of the people were up at the crooked wood bar. Blaine crossed his arms over his chest as he walked up to the bar, slamming a five dollar bill on the counter. "Beer, please." Drink ages had no effect here since everyone was dead anyway, and most people had complained before they finally allowed people under twenty one to drink.

The chubby man behind the bar set down a glass bottle full of amber liquid and Blaine nodded a thanks before taking a swig from the dirty glass. He turned and leaned against the bar, resting his elbows on it as he looked around the space. Dull music played in the background, coming from a beat up, cracked jukebox in the corner. This is the first time he had 'gone out' since he had showed up in the world of the Beyond. He never had a reason to, so why was he there now? He didn't know. Maybe it was just to humor himself.

His eyes caught sight of two girls watching him. When they saw they had been caught, they automatically turned towards each other and began to whisper. Blaine let out a humorless chuckle. The same thing happened in the world of the Living. Girls would giggle and blush over him and he'd have to break their poor hearts by pointing out that, in fact, he was gay.

Blaine studied the girls quietly as they bent close to each other. One girl was tall and blonde, with her long straight hair pulled into a high pony. The other girl was of average height and was Latina, with beautiful dark hair that hung around her shoulders in ringlets. They both were wearing cheerleading outfits that looked like they couldn't flatter anyone but those two. The Latina looked up and caught him staring. Blaine glanced away and took a drink of beer as he turned around to face the bar again.

"So, Hobbit. How'd you do it?" Blaine jumped when he heard the voice behind him. He turned around to see the Latina standing with her weight shifted to her left leg, her arms crossed against her chest as she scrutinized him.

"Excuse me?" Blaine spluttered, mostly in surprise over the nickname he hadn't heard in so long. He wasn't that short. He was even taller than the Latina.

"How'd you off yourself?" She asked, rolling her large brown eyes.

"Isn't that kind of a rude question?" Blaine asked as he brought the bottle to his lips again.

"Does it really matter? Being rude doesn't matter around here anymore. It's a normal conversation starter." She shrugged her shoulders.

Blaine nodded and set his bottle down before pulling up the sleeves of his leather jacket. Two scars criss-crossed each other on both wrists. She looked at them for a moment before nodding. "I thought so."

Once again Blaine gave her a look. "Excuse me?"

The girl rolled her eyes again with an agitated sigh. "Me and my girl, Britt; we have a game. We sit back and study new comers who come into the bar. We take guesses on how they offed themselves, then we ask them. Who ever loses has to buy the next couple beers. It's a good way to stay entertained." She spun on her heel and sauntered back to her booth to sit with the blonde, who frowned when she sat down.

Blaine grabbed his beer and walked over to the girl's table and pulled over one of the cheap, rusted chairs. The girls watched as he set his bottle on the table and rested his arms on the metal. "So. What about you two?"

The blonde cocked her head at him and intertwined her fingers with the Latina's. "We killed ourselves."

Blaine narrowed his eyes confusedly at the girl before looking at the Latina, who seemed to be blushing. "We um. Suffocated ourselves. People didn't approve of our relationship, so we offed ourselves together in Britt's garage with the door closed and the car on."

Blaine had never seen anyone in the world of the Beyond smile till he saw the two girls smile at each other. It surprised him so much to see that action. "I'm Blaine by the way."

"Santana and Brittany." The Latina answered, extending her free hand to Blaine. He grasped it and shook it. "So are you going to join our game?"

Blaine looked around the bar and shrugged. "Why not?"

"Hanged himself." Blaine answered.

"He looks like a cutter." Santana said, sipping from her bottle of beer.

"What exactly does a cutter look like, hm?" Blaine questioned her.

"He looks like a puppy lover." Brittany saved Santana from answering Blaine and all three looked over at the menacing biker man at the bar.

"Okay..." Blaine dragged out the word as he looked over at Brittany. She just shrugged as she curled an arm around Santana's dainty waist.

"Your turn to ask, Curly Sue." Santana said, pointing towards the man. Blaine shrugged and began to stand up when he caught the biker looking towards them. The deathly look in his eyes stopped Blaine halfway up from his seat, before he sat heavily back down. "I think I'll stick with not knowing."

"What about me?"

The three at the table looked up as a tanned boy pulled up a chair, turning it around to straddle it. He looked to be about Blaine's age and he didn't seem half as menacing as the biker did. He looked expectantly at the three, waiting for a reply. Blaine studied his dark eyes and muscular arms covered only by a white wife-beater. His eyes scanned over his Mohawk and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was a hard one.

Brittany was about to say something when Santana grabbed her wrist. She was looking over at the door and Blaine looked over, seeing a tall woman with short blonde hair walking into the bar. "I'm sorry. But we have to go. Goodbye, Blaine. It was nice to meet you. Maybe we'll meet up again some other time," and with that she dragged Brittany up and towards the door, leaving behind half full beers.

The boy watched them walk away, whistling softly. "Nice ass, that girl has."�Blaine looked over at him and cleared his throat. The boy looked over and his eyes widened as if acknowledging he was there. "Name's Noah Puckerman. But you can call me Puck." He held out the hand that wasn't grasping a beer bottle and shook Blaine's hand.

"Blaine Anderson. Blaine." Puck nodded and pointed at his wrist.

"A cutter, I see." Blaine looked down at where his leather jacket had ridden up. "I see a bunch of you guys all the time."

A silence settled around them as they drank from their bottles. After a moment Blaine looked over at Puck. "So. How'd you do it?"

"Me?" Puck ran his tongue over his full lips and met Blaine's eyes. "Threw myself in front of a train." Puck said nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.�Blaine's jaw fell open slightly, not expecting that to be his way. Puck chuckled at his expression. "Oh, the things we do for love."

Blaine let out a soft "Ah" and nodded. Wasn't he right.