Death is painful, irreversible and hard. At least in the eyes of Kurt Hummel, it was. Losing one parent causes enough pain, let alone losing two. When Kurt turned 18, he got into NYADA, leaving his dad in Ohio with Finn and Carole. New York was what made him happy, he had Rachel as his roommate, a few boys hitting on him (which was really great, considering he had come from a conservative town) and well, he was finally in the city of his dreams, for God's sake. It had all lasted six months until his dad flew to New York and broke the news to him.

"I have prostate cancer." Burt said, looking at him directly in the eye.

That was the moment when Kurt felt the air escaping from his lungs and not giving any signs of returning, that fucked up sensation when your stomach drops in the worst way possible and all you can think isno no no no. That feeling stayed with him for a long, long time. Damn, he was feeling like this up to now. It took 7 years for Burt to pass away, and he had enjoyed every single moment he had gone through with his son, step son and wife. Kurt didn't take it lightly, though. The day his father died, he found himself screaming and demanding to enter the hospital room, with Finn holding him back and Carole trying to get him to calm down. The day his father's funeral was held, he found himself burning with rage, cursing the universe and its unfairness. You'd think knowing someone you love will die in a few years makes it better because you're aware of the problem but no, it doesn't. It just makes you angrier and angrier at everything, and ends up being worse worse than a sudden death, like his mother's had been.

"Wake up, sweetie." Carole said, nudging him awake gently. "You're gonna be late."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with force and stretching, trying to ease some of the tension he seemed to have acquired recently. He was late for his first day of support group, something he found useless and was only going in order to make Carole worry less about him. No, he wasn't fine, would it pass? He didn't know. Was support group going to help him through this? Probably not. He had agreed to it since he had no social life anymore, taking care of your dad takes a lot of time. Kurt got himself ready quickly, something he had grown quite accustomed to, he was no longer the boy who loved fashion more than life itself. The ride to the community center was silent, with Kurt sighing every few minutes. The first impression wasn't good either, the place looked like an AA meeting and certainly smelled like one. To put it as shortly as possible: he didn't want to be there. A few people started to arrive and sit down, forming a chair circle, only a chair being left untouched. A few minutes later, just in time, a short, hazel eyed and curly haired man entered the room and sat down on the said chair, presenting himself as Blaine Anderson.

"Good morning." he said, his voice smooth and even.

"Good morning, Blaine." everyone around him replied. The guy, Blaine, looked at Kurt.

"I see there are some new additions to our group." he smiled softly. "Ok, let's all introduce ourselves and make sure everyone feels included."

The introductions started, a guy named Jason who was suffering from an unknown disease; a woman called Christina, who had divorced her husband and couldn't get over him; Braxton, a middle aged man who had lost all of his money to an online scam. The diversity was clear.

"I'm Kurt Hummel, 25, lost my dad to prostate cancer recently." he informed the group.

"Are you doing well, Kurt?" Blaine asked, adjusting his glasses.

"I'm fine, I guess." he told them, shrugging off like he usually did when asked about serious matters. Kurt internalized things a lot. Blaine stopped asking questions about him then, choosing to speak up to the entire group, saying lots and lots of encouraging phrases and such. Some group members discussed about them every once in a while, emphasizing the things that fit in their lives but nothing more than that. Kurt remained silent the whole time, until the meeting was over. Most of the people rushed out of the room as soon as it was possible, leaving Kurt behind with Blaine and more three or four people. As he headed to the parking lot, he felt someone grabbing his elbow.

"Hey, wait up!" Blaine said, smiling in a gentle way, as if Kurt were about to break.

"Hey, um...?" Kurt trailed off. Blaine shook his head.

"Blaine."

"What?"

"My name's Blaine." he said.

"No, I know. I just... what did you want?" Kurt asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a moment.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I'm really sorry for your loss." Blaine told him.Everyone is...the blue eyed man thought.

"It's okay." he simply replied instead.

"No, it's not. I can see it. You pull that strong guy mask over your face because you don't want to hurt people. Or make them worry about you." Blaine affirmed.

"I..."

"No, I'm sorry. I'm overstepping, it's just that... I know you're new to this kind of support group stuff, but I am your counselor. I want you to feel comfortable with telling me things, I want you to be able to open up to me." he said. "I'm sorry, I just met you today, you probably think I'm some creepy guy, I... I'm just... sorry." he said, smiling uncomfortably. "Have a nice day, Kurt."

And with that, Kurt was left alone in the parking lot, wondering what had just happened.