This chapter is… this chapter is awful because I don't… I can't figure out how I want certain things to fall, so it's kind of weird. But I decided to just go for it and hope for the best.

Blaine was on the verge of some kind of meltdown; he could taste it. It felt like the other Warblers were practically molesting him, what with the way their arms were constantly around his shoulders and their hands were always resting on his knee. He didn't know how to tell them to stop. It's not that he didn't appreciate it or needed it, but… it scared him.

It scared him because he couldn't figure out why. He didn't get why anyone wanted to touch him, not anymore. Not even Kurt wanted to, so why would they? Kurt was supposed to always be the one to comfort him when he was sad, and now that he was the one causing his pain, Blaine wasn't sure what to do with himself. It felt like his insides were being torn apart in all different directions, and he didn't know which way to lean into to make it hurt less. Who was there to help him when Kurt couldn't? When Kurt wouldn't?

And, crap, why wouldn't he?

Blaine couldn't pinpoint where or why it all went downhill. He had been trying so hard to be everything Kurt needed, so worried the older boy would leave. Even before he started cheating, Blaine had been working to his best extent to keep them together. He had gone to prom with him. Prom. As in a dance. With a boy. At a public school. After last time, he wasn't exactly sure he had managed to make it into the building. He did know he loved Kurt though. He loved Kurt so very much…

Also, he had switched schools for him, leaving his friends and the safety of Dalton behind. Blaine remembered sitting in his car for twenty minutes before finally braving the McKinley halls. But that's what good boyfriends did, right? They followed their partners? Blaine wasn't sure what he was missing. He thought he had been romantic enough; he remembered showering Kurt in compliments and not pushing the other boy into a fast relationship.

But for some reason things with Kurt started to become less fun, despite all his trying. He had been able to make it through a study date without even opening his books, and after a couple months of being in New Directions, it seemed like all he was doing was flipping his way through his notes. Kurt had been pulling away from him.

Instead of going places together, Blaine started just tagging along. He knew he must have looked like an idiot, a lame junior like him trailing after a senior like a lost puppy, but he needed him. Blaine needed his Kurt. And when Kurt stopped being his, he contented himself with his being Kurt's. Anything was better than being alone.

Alone.

It was such a scary word. Blaine knew what it was like to be alone. He knew what it was like to stand in the hallway of a school filled with dorks, and geeks, and nerds, and fanboys and to not have any of them talk to you because that's how low on the food chain you were. He knew what it was like to go for weeks, only to have people talk to you directly for the sole purpose of throwing insults. He heard that some religions use shunning as punishment, and Blaine could see why. It had beat all kinds of habits out of him. It made him strive to be perfected and forced him into being 'dapper' as people so liked to call him… Isolation was so, so scary.

And when Kurt started pulling away? Blaine started freaking out. He immediately felt the pull to better himself again, anything to not be alone because this time he really would be. This was a new school with no new friends that weren't Kurt's, and there wouldn't be any if Kurt broke up with him for Sam Evans… So Blaine did what he did best. He started "fixing" himself.

They were only small things in the beginning, like just waking up earlier in order to set his hair just right and spend more time on his clothes. He plucked his eyebrows, started boxing a bit more than usual, and cut himself off from all simple carbs and anything with any kind of sugar in it. No big deal, just regular self-betterment. Or, at least that's what he told himself.

But Kurt didn't even notice. Not at all. It was like everything Blaine did just made Kurt want him less. He couldn't figure out what he wanted. Actually, that's a lie. He wanted Sam. Sam with his perfect body, and his perfect hair, and his perfect face… Well, two could play at that game.

And soon, he was going to the gym directly after Kurt left him and coming home at 10 PM when it closed. He was going on runs in the morning at 4 AM so he could come back, shower, and still make himself look what he qualified as presentable, thought he could never seem to get himself just right. And when that wasn't good enough, Blaine threw in the towel, and food became something he only got when he truly became too dizzy to focus, but that didn't make him feel any less guilty when he did... One fleeting comment from Kurt had started that little problem: "Don't you think you've eaten enough today?"

It had felt like the air was sucked right out of his lungs.

But it still seemed like Kurt hadn't looked at him in days. In fact, Blaine still wasn't entirely convinced that he had. He felt like Kurt had been gazing through him, not at him. His entire body had ached with longing for some kind of eye contact. It still did. Oh gosh, it still did. He just needed him. He needed to be loved by somebody, by him, just so, so bad, but he felt just so alone. Why did he have to be so alone?

"Blaine," Wes called, interrupting his thoughts. Blaine blinked up at him, not sure what they were talking about. "Do you have any thoughts?" the older boy questioned, sighing as if it pained him to ask. He smirked.

"Plain White T's," he argued again, and Wes facepalmed, gavel still inhand.

"Too iconic," he growled through gritted teeth. "It would be like trying to do Coldplay." Blaine was practically blinded by the spark in his own eye.

"That's a great idea!"

Kurt loved this. He was sprawled out on his couch, pretty sure he had never felt more comfortable on it before. Of course, that had mostly to do with the fact that he wasn't so much as lying on the couch, but lying on Sam on the couch. Yes. Kurt loved this. He loved feeling the other boy from the very spot their lips connected to his every toe. It felt amazing to be on someone like this, to fit like this, and that was one of the many reasons Kurt was a bit overly satisfied with Sam.

Of course, the list went on and on. He loved the way they fit. Sam was wider and taller, so he could lie on him perfectly like this. Blaine was shorter and built a bit stockier, so they normally ended up on their sides. This was so much better. Kurt also loved the way Sam felt. Why was it that tan skin just seemed to feel warmer than pale? Kurt knew Sam probably just had more of an olive tone to him, but it still baffled him how he could seem so suntanned in January.

He also loved –no shock here- Sam's body. Gah, the thing had ridges and muscles that no one but him seemed to have but everyone definitely should. Yes. Kurt couldn't help but move his hands under Sam's shirt, tracing his abs with his fingers. Blaine was muscular, but... the blonde was incomparable. Oh, and that was another thing he loved. His hair. He may have said it before, but it was so refreshing to play with hair that wasn't is. Blaine's was always so perfectly fixed down; Sam let him run his hands through it with it and get it messy. It was amazing.

Of course, there were also a couple problems with Sam.

For example, the way he never stopped kissing him. Sure, Kurt did love it. It made him feel all tingly from his toes to his brain; he couldn't deny that. Plus, it had been perfect for their little romantic tryst. Going on dates wouldn't work with Blaine in the picture. Not when he had a family that would probably want to take him out to dinner and have them run smack dab into each other. No. Stealing away to Sam's bedroom was their best bet, and he wouldn't lie, there was quite a fantastic guilty pleasure that came with macking down on McKinley's Mr. Popular while the boy-next-door was waiting up for his text.

But now they could go out on dates. They could hold hands and, call it overly domestic, share their days with each other. They had time; they could talk like a couple, but they still continued to steal away to their respective rooms and clamp down on each other's faces. And that was just it, they "clamped down". Everything was rough and hungry. Gone were Blaine's slow, sweet kisses, and Kurt found himself missing them just the slightest bit.

But Kurt was relatively content. Of course, he was a tad sick of his dad's disappointing glances and Finn's identical ones, but Sam was good. Sam was a good choice. At least, that's what he kept telling himself…

Because as many times as he tried to deny it, Blaine Anderson was back at Dalton, and it was his fault. And, crap, he was back at Dalton. His safe spot. And that made Kurt one of those terrible people he swore never to be, the kind that could make a person run. He had made Blaine run. And he knew better than anyone how terrible Blaine felt for running last time. Crap, he knew… he knew… And maybe… maybe if Sam wasn't just so irresistible…. Maybe coffee could have turned back into a daily thing, and maybe they could have stayed together through college, and they would move in and argue over what movie they should watch each Sunday night for as long as they both shall live…

No. No. No good could come from that kind of thinking, and Kurt refused to. He was with Sam. Sam. Sexy Sam with the trouty mouth that wrapped around his so completely and perfectly. Yes. He was a good choice… But Blaine had been a good choice, too. He had always been stellar with dates, and he was admittedly completely adorable… But Sam with his forbidden kisses and his beautiful face was too good to pass up, and he couldn't help it.

He had made a good choice.

But for some reason, Sam just wasn't the same when he was allowed to have him…

I'm the king of the world, and you're the queen of the brainless... You can find another me, but I can find a million yous.