-* June 10, 2012 *-

Kurt was struck by an overwhelming silence. Unable to escape his mind's prison, he laid trapped in his bed for hours. Intermittent noises hummed in his ears and when they quieted the silence grew deafening.

Inside the house, he heard his own parents rushing off to work, Finn thundering down the stairs to fix himself breakfast and back upstairs to eat while playing videogames, Finn repeating the process at least twice more.

As the morning bustle died down, Kurt craved any noise that would shake him from his darkening thoughts.

Every so often, he heard cars pass by his front-facing window; some with music screeching loudly enough to blanket the neighborhood with the sound, some with those proud and few drivers who never forget their horn, and some simply passing through, the quiet roar of their engine just enough to reach his ears. Occasional he heard a car door be open and close, a trunk be slammed shut with varying degrees of force.

Sporadic sounds would echo and fade, leaving the silence to hang more heavily. Silence crashed in roaring waves every time it returned from momentary interruption.

His active mind pinned him to the mattress. He wanted to find his way through the maze, but the shifting walls made it impossible. He wanted to start the day over, to not feel powerless. Rooted to the spot, his wants laid unfulfilled.

When he had awoken, he didn't bounce out of bed and perform his lengthy morning routine, starting with a shower followed by a rigorous skincare regimen as usual; instead he barely did more than open his eyes.

Kurt had trailed those eyes along the soft creases of his skin, illuminated by the morning sun peeking in through a half-drawn curtain. For longer than he processed, he fixated on the hand that lay upon his pillow. Each fingernail was brightly painted, each a different color. Remembering the tiny, attentive hands that gently applied the polish put the faint traces of a smile at the corners of Kurt's lips. Generally, he didn't like being around little kids, but that was before Krista; the little girl was wise beyond her years.

Cars whizzed by and Kurt was free from him fixation. Then the sound evaporated, leaving him alone again.

This time, a haunting fantasy of his former future materialized in the silence.

New York.

The city's name left him to sigh uneasily. The tiny silver apple chained to his neck and digging uncomfortably into his skin felt a hundred pounds heavier.

NYADA had rejected him; the only out-of-state school he had applied to. Foolishly, he had put all his eggs in one basket. Now, New York was a pipe dream. He had thought he was good enough. Apparently, he was not.

Instead of New York, he was facing a future as a freshman at OSU. He'd be living at home and working at a job he'd most certainly hate, which would only remind him every day of his deflated dreams. Not exactly how he'd mapped things out.

Kurt felt tears prick at his eyes, felt his lips quiver. A pounding in his ears answered his recurring call for noise as his heartbeat raced dangerously over the speed limit.

Heat rapidly wound its way around his face and down his whole body. Wanting to kick off his blanket, he couldn't will his body to react. Even with his hungrily growling stomach gnawing at his insides, he made no move to follow his hunger out the door and to the kitchen. He made no move but to take in his surroundings: differently colored sticky notes marking his possessions, trophies and photographs cataloging his last few years, a dying flower in a vase given to him at graduation.

Eyes shifting among souvenirs of vanished possibilities, Kurt felt the dam break. Unsolicited tears burned down his cheeks. After the unexpected blow of rejection, he couldn't find the heart to undo all the work he'd put in toward a life that changed course so drastically.

Rachel was gone and off, already chasing her big city dreams.

He was here. In Lima. Ohio.

The thought that he had failed so miserably at getting the one thing he so badly needed to rid himself of this cow town drilled itself into his skull. His heartbeat pounded hard and fast all over and Kurt was fuzzily aware of being caught in the middle of a panic attack.

"In, out. In, out. In, out..." he told himself, sniffling in the half-darkness. Whisperings trailed off as he wiped at the stream of tears.

A shift occurred; his body calmed its shaking nerves as the tears subsided. Relief blanketed him where he laid; his body felt his own again as the pent-up frustration melted into the tears on his pillow.

A muffler clearly in need of repair shook him from his inactivity as a car flew down the street. He dragged a hand through his hair, again wishing he'd had the energy to toss back his blanket earlier when he wasn't all sweaty.

Pinching the fabric between his fingers, he tugged it away from his overheated body, grimacing as he did so. He sat up quickly, too quickly, and found he was lightheaded. The coolness of the surrounding air sent shivers up his spine. A feeling of lightheadedness kept him from moving too quickly. Breathing deep, he swung his legs over the side of his bed, finally ready to face this unsettling day.

Just as his feet touched the floor, his bedroom door burst open. His hand reached for his dresser as he stumbled on his underused muscles, but miscalculated, promptly landing on the rug with a thud that only seemed to mock him. He looked up to see his brother standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Finn reached down to help Kurt up, muttering a quiet "sorry, bro." Kurt offered a tight-lipped smile, not quite prepared for Finn this soon into his day, but he accepted the help.

"What's up?" Finn asked, getting nothing more than a shrug out of Kurt.

Finn looked around, scrunching his face in confusion and taking his sweet time to scour the room for evidence of what was wrong.

Kurt was growing agitated minute by minute. His much too hot clothing was catching a drift, uncomfortably cooling his sweaty body. Crossing his arms, Kurt tapped his foot while Finn kept biting down whatever words were sure to send him over the edge.

Finn shuffled on his feet, glancing at the messy state of Kurt's bed. Kurt shifted on his feet under Finn's quietly judgmental gaze. Kurt was kind of OCD about cleaning; so maybe the room needed to be picked up a little, maybe the sticky notes should have come down a week ago, and the laundry pile on the floor should be in the basket, and maybe his desk could look less like a tornado hit it, but he didn't see what the big deal was.

Finn couldn't stop staring; he knew something was wrong. He had never seen Kurt look so... frumpy. Honestly, he looked like shit. Like shit run over twice. Maybe three times. And then trampled by a parade of dancing roadkill.

"Oh my god, Finn, what?" Kurt's voice cracked a little, from lack of use, but he just couldn't tolerate the staring any longer.

Finn squinted his eyes in concern, "are you sick or something?"

Eyes narrowed for an entirely different reason, Kurt mouthed "no."

Finn had his moments (a lot of them), but he wasn't stupid; Kurt was hurting and he needed help, even if he would never ask. He happily clapped a hand on Kurt's shoulder, which prompted Kurt to glare until he removed it. He pushed past his fears of a bitch-faced Kurt Hummel and locked eyes with the boy; he was going to be Kurt's hero today.

"Let's go out."

Kurt raised an eyebrow in response. He wasn't interested in going anywhere. He really only wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep forever. Until he remembered he'd been lying in sweat-soaked sheets for hours on end. Shuddering at the thought, he reminded himself of his need to shower.

Finn cleared his throat. "So... Lunch?"

Kurt shrugged and Finn sighed, not knowing what was so complicated about the question. "We can go to that Chinese place you love so much."

"Thai," Kurt murmured.

Finn looked down, pressing a hand to his chest, confused about why he would need to wear a tie to the restaurant.

"It's Thai food, Finn."

"Oh." Kurt rolled his eyes as Finn continued, "Let's go get Thai food then."

Kurt bit his lip, considering turning Finn's offer down. He was tempted to go considering they Finn was leaving soon and they already wasted the week since graduation not spending time together. Still, he couldn't shake the icky feeling he's woken up to.

"We have food in the house."

Finn just shrugged.

"It's almost two hours away."

"Come on, dude." Kurt gave Finn a look, and Finn smirked knowing how much Kurt hated to be called dude. "I mean, I know it's your special place to go with that douche boyfriend of yours," Kurt sighed, not even bothering to comment, "But I think we could have fun too. Make it a mini road trip. C'mon, really. We'll have, like, no time together this summer. Let's not waste what we do have."

Finn was resolved to get a "yes" out of his brother. He flopped down onto the unmade bed, crossing his arms like a petulant child, waiting impatiently for the response he knew was coming.

"You want to go all the way to Westerville?"

Finn nodded eagerly. It's not about me, bro. You better thank me for this.

Kurt gazed down at the boy, amused at his stubbornness. He looked way too excited for Kurt to deny him, though the self-satisfied smirk he wore did make Kurt want to tease him a little bit first. He decided against it, still easing back into a sense of normal in an already draining day. He whispered a quiet, "Okay."

Finn's goofy smile overtook his face as he quickly rose to his feet.

"Let me shower first, then we can go," Kurt said, pushing the giant out of his room.

Before showering, he stripped the bed because there was simply no way he was sleeping on those sheets again unlaundered. He pulled fresh ones from his closet, setting them down before picking up his towel and heading toward the bathroom.

He hung his towel on the back of the door and moved over to the tub, turning the faucet on. Twisting his thin necklace until it came untangled, he unclasped the chain and laid it carefully down beside the sink before looking up. In the mirror, he saw his disheveled reflection and cringed. He swiftly peeled his sweat-soaked clothes away from his skin and stepped beneath the stream of hot water.

The shower was refreshing, but lying in bed all day left him strangely exhausted. He moved slowly and lazily as he got dressed and styled his hair, skipping over most of his moisturizing in order to appease Finn's hungry stomach as well as his own.

Finn had been banging on Kurt's door every other minute for the past fifteen, asking if he was ready yet. Kurt tugged on his shoes and grabbed his phone, slipping it into his pocket. He opened the door, narrowly dodging Finn's next knock.

"All set to go."

Finn rubbed at his belly. "Finally."

Kurt wasn't stupid; he knew Finn had been snacking the entire time he was in the shower. If anyone had a right to complain about being hungry, that person definitely wasn't Finn.

Kurt picked up his keys from the hook beside the front door, knowing they would have to go in his car since Finn's truck was sitting in the shop waiting for a part to come in.

As they walked out the door, Kurt blinked against the harsh sunlight of midday. He stopped walking and cursed at the pain the light caused behind his eyes. Finn turned to look back, noticing Kurt was still no longer trailing behind him.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Fine. Quit asking." He started moving toward the vehicle, wincing harder at the sunlight. Not so fine.

"Here," Kurt said tossing his keys at Finn, stepping into the car where his brother had already opened the passenger side door. They hopped into Kurt's Navigator, with Finn behind the wheel, and headed out.

Kurt pulled the pair of sunglasses from where they rested on his dash and put them on, sighing at the immediate relief on his headache. He slouched down in his seat and reached out to turn on the radio. Finn reached out to change the station before Kurt had even drawn his hand back. Kurt scowled and changed it back.

Finn barked out a laugh like a battle cry and continued the familiar game.

Kurt felt the sense of normal creeping back in as he repeatedly batted Finn's hand away. Neither really cared what station was playing, they just liked the brotherly bonding of sibling rivalry. Every time Kurt laughed and shooed him, Finn just smirked and went back in for more.

Kurt gave in, settling back into the seat with his head resting against the cool window. He looked at his brother from where he was slumped, watching him sing and hum along to some classic rock song, smiling at his playful intensity.

The realization that they'd be separated soon hit Kurt like a ton of bricks.

He loved being Finn's brother. Once the awkwardness of Kurt's long ago crush on his the football player wore off, the two became thick as thieves. It was a big adjustment getting used to each other, but parting now would be so much worse.

It felt like the world was crashing down around him all over again. Apparently, this funk intended to overstay its welcome. He'd tried to rinse it down the drain with a scalding shower, but here it was looking to trap him once again.

"I'm sad you're leaving," his voice broke through his mind's ramblings, surprising both Finn and himself.

Finn smiled, enormous and sincere. "Thanks bro."

Neither spoke the rest of the way, but the quiet was companionable, nothing like the crushing silence he awoke to.

-* October 28, 2012 *-

Santana followed the sound of man-on-man sex until her feet brought her to Blaine's bedroom door. She shamelessly pressed her ear to the door, debating whether or not to just walk in, sit back, and enjoy the show. Wouldn't be the first time.

Her stomach growled and she decided to feed that appetite first.

Fuzzy blue slippers padded across the short distance from Blaine's door to the kitchen. She set about making coffee and toasting pop tarts, relaxing to the sweet sounds of lovemaking in the background. She dropped the hot pastries onto a plate when they were done, licking her fingers where the heat had burned her. When her coffee was poured, the sugar added, and the liquid stirred, Santana made her way to the couch, mug in one hand, plate in the other.

She curled her feet beneath her and set down the pop tarts on the cluttered coffee table. She sipped slowly on her morning brew, smirking in the direction of Blaine's room and the absolutely delicious sounds emanating from within.

Keys jingled at the front door and Santana turned to see Lexi walk in. The girl looked like a deer in headlights when she caught eyes with her roommate. Her dirty blonde curls were pulled back neatly into a loose bun, but Santana knew post-sex frizz when she saw it. She was wearing sunglasses as if that would mask the scent of shame.

"Quick question: Do you think it's less of a walk of shame if you wait until noon to come home? It's not, fyi," Santana drawled, turning back around. "Hope he bought you breakfast."

"Shut up, T."

"Shh." Santana's eyes were trained on Blaine's door as she held up a finger to quiet Lexi. The loud moans and grunting fed into her visual fantasy of what was taking place; her mind was as dirty as Blaine's sheets and she wanted no delays in her train of thought.

Lexi ignored Santana and tossed her purse onto a chair on her way to the kitchen. She was used to her roommates' strange obsession with sex. Especially their investment in each other's sex lives.

Lexi liked sex; just not so much she wanted to share it with the whole apartment. There was a reason walks of shame were becoming her specialty; she'd rather get some light teasing than a crasher at the party in her pants.

She returned to Santana, joining her on the couch with her own cup of coffee. She pulled her iPad from her purse and sat back quietly, careful not to disturb Santana's lurking.

Whatever was going on in Blaine's room was soon to be over. They could hear the men pushing themselves closer to the edge. Lexi didn't understand the appeal, yet she found herself watching the door just as intently as Santana when the bed stopped creaking. They waited, hoping someone would come out looking and smelling undeniably like sex. Alas, the door remained closed and their entertainment was gone.

Lexi went back to Words with Friends chuckling at Santana's obvious disappointment.

Santana nibbled on her pop tarts and flipped on the television. They stayed in their comfortable bubble of quiet until Lexi got up to hop in the shower. After a while, Santana got up to drag the keyboard from against the wall and over to the couch. She picked up a notebook and a pair of headphones from the clutter on the coffee table and went to work songwriting.

A half-hour later, Blaine's door opened and a half-naked man stepped out.

"Wow." Santana was not expecting him of all people. She pulled off her headphones and didn't even bother trying to hide her shock. The man deadpanned and brushed past her to welcome himself to the food in their fridge.

"Is someone else in there?" she asked, pointing toward the bedroom.

"Blaine, duh," he said pulling a face that clearly said you're an idiot.

"Don't be a bitch." She glared at the man who was making himself comfortable in her home. "That's what I'm here for."

He rolled his eyes and carried on eating the yogurt he knew belonged to her.

"I just figured since Blaine sounded like he was enjoying himself earlier, someone else must have been in the room to get him hard while you fumbled around pretending you know what to do with that much dick."

He continued to ignore her and went back into the bedroom.

Santana was pissed. What the hell was Blaine thinking? This had better be a one-time monumental mistake.

Lexi came out of her room sometime later, grabbing her coat and saying goodbye to Santana. She had to snap her fingers a few times to get the woman's attention away from burning holes into the floor. When Santana finally looked up, she seemed murderous. Lexi smartly thought it best to leave and headed out the door.

Santana found it difficult to refocus on her music and instead thought through ideas to help Blaine. He must really be hurting if he put himself through a night with that douche. She sat and she planned, and she waited for the fool to leave so she could talk to Blaine alone.

When he reemerged fully dressed, she determinedly bit her tongue hoping he would leave faster if he was uninterrupted.

"I left Blaine a note. I know you'll stick your nose where it doesn't belong and read it, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't crumple it up and toss it out before he sees it."

"I'm sure if he gets to it first, he'll wish I'd thrown it out anyway."

"Go to hell, Satan." With these final words he stormed out.

Santana exhaled slowly and retracted her claws; she gave it a few minutes then disappeared into Blaine's room.

-* June 10, 2012 *-

The restaurant was small and very few people were there. Kurt skimmed the menu just to have something to do while Finn decided on his order.

The waiter came and went, taking their orders with him. Silence fell between them again. Kurt watched from the corner of his eye as Finn obsessively checked his phone, fidgeting in his seat until it buzzed on the table. Finn read the message he'd been sent and slipped the cell into his pocket.

Kurt didn't question it; he was too worn out to care. He played with his water glass, watching his painted fingernail circle the rim.

"Oh good, you're here," Kurt heard Finn's voice without registering the words as he glanced up to find the boy looking past him. He started to follow Finn's gaze and before he could turn all the way around, he felt a warm hand on his neck and a pair of lips meet his own.

Sebastian.

-* October 28, 2012 *-

Santana assumed Blaine had made a breakthrough after their little chat, but he spent the night being all sorts of pissy before heading out, presumably to get dunk and get laid.

Santana took his absence as permission to ransack his room. Wes came home from work and passed by Santana's insanity, once again thankful for the lock on his door. Of course, she didn't care at all who saw her.

She picked through Blaine's things unrushed, unconcerned about when he'd return home. Moving her attention to the trash bin, she found shredded sheet music near the top of the pile. She picked the pages up, only to drop them immediately. She ran off and quickly returned with a pair of latex gloves to remove another type of latex product from the back of one sheet.

Usually she remembered the gloves. She must be off her game.

She was grateful Blaine was a neat tearer; the pages taped back together easily. Without a second thought, she made herself at home on Blaine's bed, picking up his guitar and playing his once-destroyed song. Before she started strumming, she'd figured it was about a certain sexy doughface twink; she was surprised to learn how wrong she was. For maybe the first time, she felt a twinge of guilt about intruding.

After replacing the guitar on its stand, she crept from the room with the pages in her hand.

-* June 10, 2012 *-

Kurt twisted away from Sebastian's lips, only to have the boy target his neck. He placed a palm to the boy's face and pushed him away with little care of being delicate.

"Not today," he glared at a very smirky Sebastian Smythe, but his eyes possessed a hint of playfulness. He didn't even question Sebastian's presence; he was so used to being here with him it seemed only right he should show up. "Please don't use me as a pawn in your war against Finn."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I just want a little action from my boyfriend." Kurt's hand flew to Sebastian's chest to keep him in place. When Sebastian's hand crept up to cover Kurt's, Kurt shook his head and drew back his hand.

"Get yourself a boyfriend and I'm sure he'd let you keep those lips, and whatever else, as busy as you want them to be."

Finn coughed loud and clear, his discomfort obvious even after years of exposure to his brother's friendship with Sebastian. Kurt turned his attention away from Sebastian to his brother sitting across the table.

"Don't act so bothered. It's your fault he does crap like this." Looking back at Sebastian, he added, "Stop doing crap like this."

"You love it," Sebastian smirked.

"Mmm, yeah. I love when you get so close to me." Sebastian leaned towards him. "What's not to love about the scent of Craigslist," he deadpanned.

Sebastian smirked harder. "I love it when you talk dirty. Keep it coming."

Finn scrunched up his face, pretty sure that this lunch would go downhill fast for him if this conversation didn't stop here. Ever since Kurt met Sebastian on the day he'd gone to spy on the Warblers, they'd been inseparable. In some ways, Finn was really grateful for their closeness because Sebastian inspired confidence in Kurt, but then other times he felt he was the butt of many a joke between the two. Like the dating thing; it's a frequently revisited topic when the three are together, something Finn won't let go. Kurt and Sebastian supposedly they tried being a couple for a few weeks a long time ago, and claim it didn't work out, still it always seems like they get extra close and comfy around Finn just to mess with his head.

"I'm pretty sure you two are dating."

Both Kurt and Sebastian cut off from their conversation about whether Kurt's jeans would look better on his body or on Sebastian's floor. Thankfully, Finn interrupted because Kurt had no desire to be having this conversation. They were in a public restaurant; one they went to all the time. No one needed to hear about a fictional sex life Sebastian concocted to poke fun at the ever-suspicious Finn. A lesson in decorum wouldn't hurt Sebastian at all.

Sebastian got up to use the bathroom, leaving Finn and Kurt in a staring contest. After a minute, their food was brought out, but the contest continued until Kurt rolled his eyes and spoke.

"This is ridiculous."

"So are you?"

"So help me God if you are referring to us dating..."

"Duh."

"We are not dating Finn."

"No," Sebastian agreed, returning to his seat. Kurt turned an inquisitive eye on his friend who had always sought to fuel the rumors about their relationship, who never once had admitted to Finn it was a joke. "It's strictly sexual."

"Ahh, there it is," Kurt sighed.

"Whatever. I'm ignoring you both now."

"You're the one who keeps bringing it up," Kurt said as he felt his hand lifted from where it was back to playing with his water glass.

"Enough, Sebastian. Do not try to hold my hand."

Sebastian smirked, otherwise ignoring the comment. "You don't have to let her do this you know. She's six; if you tell her to fuck off she'll just go play with her toys."

Kurt took back his hand, smiling at his multicolored fingernails as Sebastian's picked off of his plate.

"I'm not telling your little sister to fuck off as you so eloquently stated it. You're just jealous that she likes me best. Ha!" He stuck his tongue out for good measure.

"Maybe I should go then. Spend some time just the two of us; earn Krista's love without you around." Sebastian pushed his chair back, Kurt ignoring his bluff. "Yeah I'll do that," he said starting to stand.

"No!" Finn practically yelled.

Now it was Finn's turn to be gawked at. Kurt narrowed his eyes, looking at Finn like he'd gone mad.

"What changed in the last five seconds? When did you suddenly start liking Sebastian?"

"I don't."

"Thanks." Kurt snorted at Sebastian's affronted face.

"That's not what I meant. It's just..."

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Bullshit it's nothing," Sebastian interrupted. "He thinks I make you happy which is why I'm here; he doesn't want me to go because if I do you might," he paused to look through his text messages, "'start crying and like what am I supposed to do about that dude? You are' – it's the letters u and r – 'his boyfriend' – bf it says – 'you should deal wit it.' He then goes on to imply I'm the one who hurt you. So this might be an intervention or couples therapy. I'm not sure."

"Oh my god Finn," Kurt groaned. "And you," he said, turning towards Sebastian, "you went along with this?"

"I think it's sweet of him to care."

"It worked," Finn said simply. "He made you smile. You look like you again."

Kurt sucked in a breath and just shrugged at Finn. He refused to look in Sebastian's direction because he could just about feel the smug grin on his face. It was sweet of Finn to care, but now that Sebastian was brought into it, Kurt knew that the topic wouldn't be dropped until it was all out in the open. Sebastian was nothing if not tenacious.

-* October 30, 2012 *-

"Cooper, he's really hurting." Santana paced her bedroom floor, holding her phone to her ear and trying to be patient, but this conversation was starting to wear her down.

"Tell me one-with-all-the-answers, what am I supposed to do about that?"

Santana growled and she could almost feel Cooper cowering on the other end of the line. "Be his brother... Oh, quit sighing. Christ! Your entire family is so dramatic. Just show up. Be pissed if you're pissed, but you still need to speak to each other."

"I'll come by later... if I have time."

"Nuh-uh. Make time." She huffed and hung up before giving Cooper a chance to feed her bullshit. Muttering a string of profanities in Spanish, she set her phone down on her nightstand.

Movement in the doorway caught her eye and she realized she wasn't alone. She looked up to see Blaine shaking his head and disappearing to the hallway.

"Shit."

Santana squared her shoulders and walked out to face Blaine.

Blaine stood in the center of the room, hands on hips, head dropped, when she saw him. With the ceasing of her footsteps, silence fell between them. Santana struggled for the right words, but they all caught in her throat.

She watched him breathing deep to steady himself; he was definitely pissed. Fuck this. I don't do awkward.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean–"

"No, it's fine," he said, finally turning to look her in the eye. "It's not like I'm an adult. I need other people to overstep and solve my problems for me."

"Oh, please. Don't be such a drama queen."

"Like the rest of my family?" Blaine was getting worked up and Santana was starting to feel it just as strongly. Each word was laced with venom. "I asked you to stay the hell out of it, so please do."

Santana glared hellfire at Blaine. "Stay out of it?! You keep bringing me into it, crying on my shoulder. And that's okay because I'm your friend, but you need to deal with your crap. I've been watching you mope around here like it wasn't your own doing."

Blaine's eyes were alight with the same hellish fire as he screamed at her to back off. Santana wondered how an (albeit halfhearted) apology turned into a shouting match with both slinging personal insults at the other, but she had no intentions of backing off. They yelled so loud their voices were scratchy within minutes. Santana had enough; this was not supposed to happen.

Calming down, Santana took a breath before speaking. "I am trying to help, you ass."

"You're just my roommate, Santana. You're not my fucking therapist. Instead of sticking your nose in my so-called problems, why not deal with your own? I'm fine with where I'm at. You're the one who's lonely and miserable and you're fixating on my life to avoid your own shitty day to day existence."

"My shitty life?"

"Yeah. You're shitty pent-up frustration because you can't get a record deal and you can't even get laid."

"Just admit it Blaine. Daddy didn't love you enough and now that you know just how much he didn't care, you're taking it out on the rest of the world."

Regret smacked Santana in the face the second the words were out. She scoured her mind for the right thing to say, but Blaine's hurt, shocked expression told her he wasn't ready to hear anything more from her, certainly not an apology.

Silence fell again, thicker and heavier than ever.