Im so nervous.

It reminds me of my first day at Dalton, when my tie felt too tight and my hair wouldnt lie flat and I just needed everything to be perfect, so that people would like me. I remember my first time walking through the halls at school. Seeing all the students and teachers smiling at me. The disconnect of meeting boys who wanted to shake my hand and not push me to the ground. That whole day was spent on a constant cycle of fear, hope, and wonder.

Now, at Kurts house, Im straightening the utensils, arranging the cups artfully, plumping the pillows on his couch. Kurt and Finn keep looking at me funny, but then, they dont get whats at stake.

Kurt says that Mike Chang was my closest friend at McKinley. I think of a line from an old Muppets song — Theres not a word yet for old friends whove just met — and hope for the thousandth time that Mike and I will still get along. As much as I love Kurt, I need a friend right now. Not one like Sebastian, who is wearing my patience thin, nor Finn, who cant really be my confidante since hes Kurts brother.

No, I need someone of my own. And if Mike liked Old Blaine, well, maybe hell like me too.

At quarter to six, I dart into the bathroom again to make sure my hair is covering most of the scar on my head. When I open the door, Kurts standing there.

"Youre worrying too much," he tells me. "Mikes a really laid-back guy. He wont care how the place looks. And he certainly wont care how your hair looks."

"I need a friend," I say miserably. "I didnt even realize how much until I met you. Ive only had my parents for company this past year, and I just... I..."

"Need a friend," he nods. "I really do understand. Just dont make yourself crazy over it, okay? Youre kind of ridiculously likable."

The doorbell rings, and I can feel my heart rate quicken. "Is that...?"

"Lets go see."

It turns out to be Sam and Artie at the door. They wave to me with awkward expressions, then keep staring at my head.

I shouldve worn a hat. Why didnt I think to wear a hat?

Thankfully, Puck arrives next. He claps my shoulder soundly and tells Sam, Artie and Finn the story of how we broke into my house with Quinn. In minutes, the strange tension has mostly dissipated. Were all sitting in the living room, listening to Sam do a pretty good James Bond impression, when a tall Asian guy enters the room.

I stand up and try to think of what to say, but I dont actually get the chance — in two strides, Mike crosses the room and grabs me in a bear hug.

"Wow, its so good to see you," he says, pulling back after a moment. "Ive missed you, man."

I beam at him, and he beams at me, and Kurt dabs at his eyes with a handkerchief.

Pucks new video game is called Ultimate Street Justice VI. It basically involves two players trying to get from one side of the city to the other, and protecting themselves from attacks from street gangs along the way. Kurt gets bored pretty quickly, and wanders off to work on his college application essay. Im sitting on the floor with Mike, watching Artie and Puck try to get to some rendezvous point.

"Watch the bridge," Finn says from where hes perched on the sofa arm. "I bet theres snipers up there. And look out for that barrel, too. Barrels are always suspicious. Anyone want more pizza?" He heads into the kitchen, and after a moment, Sam follows, murmuring something about everything but the little fishies.

Artie leans forward in his wheelchair, shaking his head. "This levels hard, yo." Hes still glancing away from the game to stare at me every once in a while, so I turn slightly away from him, blocking my scar from view.

Puck discovers a back alley full of shady-looking characters, and hides behind a dumpster as they open fire with machine guns. "Dude, where are you? I need backup!"

"Im... hold on." Artie tries to follow, but a tall and muscular henchman jumps in front of him, holding a large crowbar. "Shoot, I... " The henchman swings the crowbar, knocking Artie to the ground.

And suddenly, I cant move.

Theres a strange ringing in my ears. I cant tear my eyes away from the screen. Again and again and again, the crowbar comes down, hitting flesh with a sickening sound, and he isnt moving now. He isnt moving, and theres so much blood, and still the crowbar swings down, aiming for Kurt this time as he dives in front of me—

"Pause the game for a second," Mike says loudly. Puck and Artie do so, looking at him curiously. "Im totally in the mood for bubble tea. Anyone else?"

"Yeah, sure," Puck nods. "Bubble teas so good. I love when those squishy balls shoot up into my mouth." He notices Arties wide eyes and adds, "No homo."

"Great, Ill get some for everybody. Blaine can help me carry it all." Mike is hauling me to my feet, which is helpful because Im still so shaken. "Well be back later."

We head toward the front door, Mike grabbing our coats off the wall hooks. Kurt pokes his head out of his bedroom doorway. "Are you guys going to... Blaine? Whats wrong?"

I shake my head numbly.

"Ive got him, Kurt," Mike says, helping me into my coat.

Kurt nods, looking unconvinced as Mike and I step out of the house. The cold air hits me hard once were outside. I lean over and fill my lungs with it, letting it slowly chase away the terror from moments ago.

"Im sorry," Mike is saying. "The game just came out, and I didnt know that part was in there. I never wouldve let them bring it if Id known." He rests his hand on my upper back as I breathe in and out unsteadily. "Do you want me to drive you home? Or I can kick the guys out. Whatever you want."

I straighten up and look at him. His expression is etched with concern, and he waits patiently for me to answer.

"Blaine? What do you want?" he asks gently.

"I want to go out for bubble tea with my friend," I tell him.

He grins. "Well okay, then."

"So let me get this straight." Mike takes a big sip of mango bubble tea — his third of the night — before continuing. "Every single morning, you drove around to random coffee houses within a couple hours radius of Westerville, until you found the Lima Bean. And when you went inside, Kurt just happened to be there that morning."

I nod, finishing off my second lychee tea and reaching for a taro one. Mike bought half a dozen of them, and weve been sitting at a table near the back of Boba Fete, a small tea place halfway between Lima and Bluffton. I know Im going to have to pee any minute now, but its worth it to sit here with Mike and catch up with each other. "I was just lucky, I guess."

"Forget luck, thats fate. And now youre staying at Robs apartment together?"

"Ever since I left my parents house, yeah."

"Wow. So whats next?"

"I have no idea," I admit. "My college applications are all in, and Im about finished making up all the schoolwork I missed when I was in the coma. So for now Ive just been focusing on my relationship with Kurt."

Mike cocks his head, looking curious. "Is it weird?"

"Which part?"

"Dating someone who already knows all about you."

I shrug. "To be fair, he doesnt really know all about me. He knows all about Old Blaine."

"Old Blaine?"

"The guy whose memories I lost."

He shakes his head. "I dont understand."

"I dont feel like that guy Kurt dated last year. Like... when I heard that he transferred schools to be with Kurt? I couldnt believe it. After all I did to get into Dalton, he just threw it all away."

"You did it to spend more time with the boy you loved," he says cautiously.

"No, I get that. But he couldve seen Kurt in the evenings, or on the weekends. They couldve talked on the phone and Skyped. I just dont get why he would purposely put himself back in the same situation that I worked so hard to escape."

"It was important to you to face your fears."

"But he—"

"You," he interjects softly.

"What?"

"You keep saying he. It was you."

"Technically, yes."

"Not technically. Whether or not you remember, it was still you."

I take a big sip of tea, trying to keep my anger at bay.

"Dont get mad, Blaine, Im just trying to help."

"Im not mad."

"Of course you are. You think I cant recognize when youre mad?" He leans forward. "I can, because I know you."

"You know Old Blaine."

"I—" He lets out a huff of frustration. "Its like... have you ever heard the story of the three blind men who are out for a walk and come upon an elephant?" I shake my head. "Well, the first blind man reaches out and touches the elephants trunk, and says, This is a snake. The second blind man reaches out and feels the elephants leg, and says, No, this is a tree trunk. The third blind man reaches out and feels the elephants tail, and says, No, this is a rope."

"Im not following."

"Youre assuming that someone can only know you if theyve gotten to know you since the attack. But youre more than just a years collection of experiences. Youre the guy you were before Dalton, youre the guy you were when you dated Kurt, and youre the guy that you are today. Take one piece without the whole, and its an incomplete picture."

"So youre saying Im incomplete without the memories that I lost?" I demand, stung.

"Im saying whether or not you remember that lost time, its still a part of you."

"But its not."

"Of course it is. You said you have flashes of memories, right?" he asks, and I nod begrudgingly. "And the box full of mementos. Your old journal. Kurt. Me, even. Were all from Old Blaines life."

"I cant ever be him," I burst out, startling even myself. "People expect me to be, and I cant live up to him."

"What do you mean?"

"He had it so easy. He didnt have to deal with everything that Ive been through." I break off, frustrated, but Mike nods for me to continue. "Im afraid that Kurt, and you, and everybody else... that everyone will expect me to magically become him again, if my memories come back. But I cant. Because he never had to face knowing that someone hated who he was enough to try to kill him. It changes who you are, Mike."

"Nobody would ever expect you to regress," he says. "Of course youve changed. Kurts changed, too. Hell, Ive changed. Im just saying you cant treat your lost memories as though they belonged to someone else, someone youre in competition with. Its all just parts of you. And I think if you just accepted that, youd realize you have a lot more in common with that lost piece of yourself than you thought."

I drink some more bubble tea, thinking, but he doesnt push me. He just finishes off his own tea. "I can see why we were friends," I tell him finally.

"Best friends," he corrects me.

"Best friends," I agree. I smile a little at that, and he smiles back.

"I think youre the only person Ive always been completely honest with. We always told each other everything."

"Everything?" I ask. "So you knew about Sebastian?"

His smile fades. "You remember Sebastian?"

"No. I met him again, when I went to visit Dalton. Kurt had asked if I would go on three dates with someone else, so that I could figure out on my own whether he was the right guy for me. So I went out with Sebastian."

"And how did that go?"

"How do you think it went?"

"I think he probably spent all three dates trying to get in your pants. Accurate?"

"Accurate. Although were trying to be friends now."

"It wont work," he says immediately.

"How do you know?"

"Because you two will always want different things. You tried being his friend the last time around, too."

"Thats what he told me," I say, intrigued. "But my journal doesnt say anything about that. Was I afraid that Kurt would read it?"

"No, hed never betray your trust like that."

"My parents, then? I mean, who was I hiding it from?"

"Yourself, probably." He shrugs. "Youve always had this sort of... gentleman complex. Wherever we are, you have to be the nicest person in the room. The most polite, the most accommodating. And you always, always have to do what you think is right. I think if you didnt write about becoming Sebastians friend, its because you knew it was the wrong thing to do, and you didnt want to face that truth. Plus if you were being completely honest, youd have to admit that you were attracted to him."

My jaw falls open. "I told you that?"

"You didnt have to. It was obvious."

"I feel so guilty about it," I admit. "I love Kurt. I really do. So why do I still feel attracted to Sebastian?"

"Just because youre in love with someone mean you cant be attracted to someone else. Im attracted to a bunch of the dancers in my ballet class. All those moves we do together? Its like torture. But I love my girlfriend, and I know Id never cheat on her. Finding someone else attractive isnt cheating."

"I guess..." I concede.

"But heres the thing, Blaine. Some of those dancers are attracted to me, too. They ask me out for coffee, and I always say no. Because otherwise, were just playing with fire, and its only a matter of time until someone gets burned."

It feels as though a weight is being lifted off my chest. Not only is Mike absolving me of my guilt about being attracted to Sebastian, but hes also telling me that I wouldnt be breaking my own gentleman code by cutting off contact with him. I think back to Sebastians last text message this afternoon, and realize that Mike is right — he and I just cant be friends.

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure."

"Ill be right back."

I grab my coat and cell phone before heading outside, buttoning up against the cold wind. Theres a little bench right outside the door, and I sit down, scrolling through my six new text messages.

Sebastian Smythe: Hey Blaine, you make me feel like an M&M.

Sebastian Smythe: Because you make me want to melt in your mouth, not in your hand.

Kurt Hummel: You ok? Let me know if you need me. I love you.

Sebastian Smythe: Any chance you dont consider phone sex cheating?

Sebastian Smythe: Because Im hard as a rock and Ive got a palmful of lube with your name on it.

Sebastian Smythe: Or Skype? How about Skype?

I press send, and hold my breath as the call connects. Theres a brief pause, before his voice comes over the line.

"God, I didnt think that would actually work. Are you naked too? What do you think about Skype? My usernames—"

"We cant be friends, Sebastian," I interrupt.

"...what?"

"You told me youd back off. You said youd respect my relationship with Kurt. It hasnt even been half a day, and youre already making passes at me again."

"I was just teasing you."

"You were not."

I can hear a slow slapping sound in the background, and my stomach turns. "Can I help it if you parade around in your tight little—"

"Were done. Dont call me, dont text me, dont come and see me. Do you understand?"

Theres a long pause, before he murmurs softly, "I understand."

I end the call and lean forward, letting out a long breath. Ive always had an overwhelming need to please people, and this sort of thing doesnt come easy to me. At the same time, its such a relief not to have to worry about what Sebastian will say or do next.

Mike comes outside after a few minutes, with four new bubble teas in his arms. "Everything all right?"

I look up and give him a real smile. "Everythings good. But I cant possibly drink any more tea, or my bladder might explode."

"These are for the guys," he says. "Ready to hit the road?"

"Absolutely."

We turn up the radio on the way home and sing along at the top of our lungs, dancing in our seats during red lights.

By the time we get back to the Hummels house, Artie and Sam have already left. Puck and Finn are embroiled in a Call of Duty battle, though they pause it long enough for Puck to suck down a bubble tea.

Kurt joins Mike and me at the kitchen table after I use the bathroom, and the two of them start trying to one-up each other, telling embarrassing stories about Old Blaine — I mean, about me. Were all howling with laughter, and before long, Puck and Finn come in, looking curious. Kurt goes into the hall closet and pulls out an old poker set, and we squeeze two more chairs around the little table so that everyone can fit.

Finn is awful at bluffing, and Puck goes all in every hand until hes out. Kurt is shockingly good, and keeps building elaborate towers out of his stacks of chips. Mike starts trying to cheat by asking me what cards I have in Tagalog, prompting Finn to yell, For the thousandth time, no secret languages allowed!

Everything feels so easy. We laugh and tease each other, and when Kurt leans over to kiss my cheek, no one bats an eye. Well, okay, Puck looks a little dreamy-eyed, but no one else seems to even notice.

The party breaks up just before midnight. Mike gives me another bone-crushing hug, and we trade cell phone numbers before he leaves.

"Well?" Kurt asks hopefully, once everyone has left. "I thought that went pretty w—"

I crowd him up against the counter, kissing him breathless. "I know its late, but can we go home? I want to thank you properly for tonight."

He kisses me harder, trapping my lower lip between his teeth, and I moan.

"Ill get the keys."

Kurt and I make out in bed until were both too exhausted to do anything but fall asleep. When my cell phone rings just past three, Kurt doesnt even stir.

Half-asleep, I stumble over to the dresser and pick up my phone, groaning softly when I see that its Sebastian. Thankfully, when I glance over at Kurt, hes still fast asleep. I tiptoe out of the bedroom before answering the phone. "Sebastian, this is ridiculous, Kurt is—"

"Listen to me very carefully," he whispers. "You dont see him. You dont call him. You dont so much as think about him. You stay away from him, or else."

I can feel my blood run cold at the barely-restrained fury in his words. "Or else what?"

"Or else this time I will fucking kill you."