"I guess this is it." Blaine sighed as he packed the last of his things in a box, about three and a half weeks later. It was Thursday; he was leaving for New York on Saturday. He and Kurt hadn't spoken since the night before graduation. And the day of, Blaine kept expecting him to show up. He almost missed his name being called because he was focused on the crowd of people. He had been trying to talk himself into texting- no that would be tacky right?- at least calling him before he left. Maybe they could leave things on a better note. But they were both so hurt and confused it would probably be no use.

"Man, you have got to stop sighing." David said, taping the box up.

"And moaning, and groaning, and being snippy. Dude, we love you and all, but it's getting OLD." Wes interjected, as he lay across Blaine's bed.

"Well I am SO very sorry." Blaine said with a sarcastic tone.

"Look, we know it's been a rough couple of weeks. But unless you guys talk, nothing is going to change. So either talk to him, or accept it." David plopped down next to Wes.

"You guys were bitches to each other."

"But I-" Blaine started.

"Let me finish!" Wes held his hand up. "Where's my gavel when I need it." He muttered under his breath before continuing. "From the get go you two have lied to each other, hid things from each other, and now you had a fight where you both yelled and accused each other. EVEN THOUGH you both are correct; you both are wrong. It didn't have to go down like that, man."

"I know." Blaine groaned, which earned a heavy sigh from his two friends. "I KNOW, okay? I know it shouldn't have gone down like that. But I was just so angry. More at myself, I guess."

"Don't you think Kurt was feeling exactly the same way?" David asked.

Blaine just shrugged.

They were quiet for a few moments before Wes stood up. "Come on. Let's go." He walked to the door. David followed.

"Where are we going?" Blaine asked.

"Out. Now come on, you need to get drunk, dance with guys, etcetera." Wes opened the door.

"No, man. I don't. I'm fine, promise."

Wes groaned and stalked over to Blaine, grabbing his arm. "Come. On."

...

Blaine didn't resist because to be honest, getting drunk sounded like a great idea. He needed a night of forgetting everything. So Wes and David took Blaine down to the only gay club within a fifty mile radius. Club West, which was in downtown Westerville, Sunday through Wednesday it was just a regular dance your ass off gay club, but Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights all of the drag queens came out to play. Wes knew this, because he stumbled into the club one Friday night and had an interesting encounter with who he thought was an actual woman. After that, he learned to pay close attention to where he was.

David wasn't too excited about the idea of taking Blaine out and getting him drunk when he had so much on his mind, but Wes had his heart set on it. So they did it anyway. And two hours, three beers, ten shots and a margarita later, Wes was gone, dancing with a smaller drag queen that went by the name Candy Davis. Blaine was gone too, because every time Wes took a shot, Blaine took two. David sat at the bar with his hand half way over his eyes, trying not to watch Blaine, who was dancing with a blonde, buff not-so-un-attractive-twenty-something guy in a very, sloppy, provocative manner.

Blaine was backed up against the guy, grinding against him when he felt a buzz.

"Uh, babe, either your ass is vibrating, or you've got a text." The guy said, with a smirk.

Blaine chuckled. "Nono I'sure it's m'phone." He slurred, pulling the phone out of his pocket, squinting at the bright screen. Even under all of the alcohol Blaine felt hit heart stop.

(10:58pm)

Hey.

"What?" He whined.

"What?" The guy hollered over the music.

Blaine looked up at the guy, then back down at his phone. "Uh," He stared at the word, his mind racing. 'Hey?' That's it? What? What did it mean? Did he mean to text him? What? He wasn't drunk enough for this.

"You okay, stud?"

Blaine nodded. "Y-yeah. It's nothing." He shoved the phone back into his pocket. "I'm goinaget another drink." He pointed to the bar.

The guy nodded. "Come find me if you want to have some fun." He winked at Blaine.

Blaine giggled. "Ab…absofreakinglutely, sexy." And with that he stumbled to the bar, next to David. "David!" He hollered.

David covered the ear closest to Blaine. "Yeah, hello, I wasn't deaf."

Blaine laughed a bit too loudly. "Ha! Youso funny Davy." He slapped David's shoulder. "You wanknow what else is funny?"

"Besides that?" David then point across the way to a dark table, and at this table was Candy Davis, with a drunken Wes in his lap. Wes had his head against the drag queen's chest; snuggled against her while Candy cuddled him. Wes literally looked five years old. And, he didn't know if he just couldn't see that far or not, but David was pretty sure Wes was crying? God, who even knows what he was saying over there. Probably telling the poor person about his pet goldfish that died when he was seven. David never understood why that memory was the ONE Wes ALWAYS had to share when he was drunk, and then he'd cry about it for twenty minutes.

Blaine shook his head. "Thatis hilarious. BUT you want to know what ELSE is funny?" He pulled his phone out. "Notthis. Look. Text message. Him. Him. Him. HIM." He groaned.

David took the phone, opening Blaine's inbox as Blaine ordered another shot.

"Oh, jeez."

"Three!" Blaine called after the bartender. "M'not drunknuff for that."

David shook his head. "No, I think you're pretty good and drunk there, buddy."

"What does it meeeeeeeeean David?" Blaine whined, banging his head against the bar. "M' supposed to be happy drunk not sad. David. I'm sad. Sad, sad, Blaine." He took the three shots the bartender sat down.

David frowned, patting his friend on the back. "Blaine, it'll be okay. I have no idea what it means though."

"HEY BOYS." A loud, startling voice came from behind them as Wes threw his arms around his friends. "Dudes, this club is awesome. CANDY and I are getting a cat."

"Dude! Cong-rats!" Blaine stood up, giving Wes a congratulatory hug.

"Maybe you misunderstood..." David said before shaking his head. He wasn't going to explain a sex-change to a drunken Wes right now.

"WES. LOOK." Blaine shoved the phone in Wes' face.

"Whoa, man, what's about that?"

The phone buzzed again.

(11:11pm)

Blaine, can we talk? Please?

Blaine chuckled sarcastically. "Yes! Please!" He stumbled out of the club, ignoring David calling after him. David left Wes dancing by himself and he chased after Blaine.

Once Blaine was outside, he leaned up against the brick and pressed the 'call' button.

"Blaine!" David said. "Hang up!"

"Shhhhh. S'okay." Blaine shook his head, putting his finger up to David's lips. "I'm gonna make Kurt ma-ad." He said in a sing-song voice.

"Hey," Kurt finally answered. "Listen, thank you for calling. I really want to talk before-"

"Hello stranger that broke my heart!" Blaine said in a sarcastically-cheerful voice.

"Oh…you're drunk."

"Am not. I am just..." He chuckled. "Okay, maybe I am."

"Blaine, I really don't want to have this conversation while you're drunk."

"M'fine, stranger."

"Stop calling me that."

"Stopbeingthat."

Kurt went quiet for a moment. For a drunk person, Blaine was quick.

"Kurt, I am just TRYING to enjoy a night out with the boys on m'last night hereee." Blaine whined. "What it is you need to say?"

"Nothing." Kurt said, lowly.

"Then why did you text me?"

"Blaine,"

"Nope. Why did you text me?"

"Why didn't you text me?"

"Because it's your fault." Blaine said, very childishly. Of course sober Blaine knew it wasn't Kurt's fault. Drunk Blaine knew it to, but drunk Blaine was childish and ornery.

"Excuse you? Um, half of it was your fault!" Kurt sounded annoyed.

"So?" Blaine said simply.

Kurt growled. "Why are you being so difficult?"

"Uh, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Did you just call to be grumpy because I am having too much fun for you to be bringing me down with your grumpiness. You are not one of the nine...no wait…six...hang on…" Blaine turned to David. "How many dwarfs are there?"

"Seven." David sighed through his teeth.

"Right!" Blaine turned his attention to the phone. "You are not one of the seven dwarfs!"

There was nothing.

"Hello?" Blaine said.

Still nothing.

"That donkey-faced butthead. He fucking hung up on me!"

David just chuckled. "You say 'fucking' but your best insult is 'donkey-faced butthead'? Oh my god, Blaine." He shook his head. "Just, no, just let it go!" He tried to grab Blaine's phone, trying to prevent more damage from being done but Blaine was too fast. He had already re-dialed Kurt's number.

"What, Blaine?" Kurt answered.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO. You, yes, you called me. Now stop being a bitch and just talk to me!"

David slapped his face with the palm of his hand. Why couldn't he have just gone with donkey-faced butthead?

"Excuse you?"

"No, excuse you. You don't do this. You don't wait until the day before I leave to call me, Kurt! This whole thing is just so fucked up." His words slurred only a little, but how upset he was took over how drunk he was. "We go through all of this, and then you tell me you're not even willing to try. Obviously everything was a lie. The friendship, the love, the everything. I don't believe for one second you'd let me go if you felt that strongly."

It was quiet for another minute.

"Hello? Dammit, did you hang up again."

Kurt sniffled. "No."

"Look. This is ridiculous. I don't want to fight, I am trying to have a good last night, but you're making it hard."

"I'm making it hard? I called to try to fix things, but you're too drunk to even think about what you're saying. You're being so cold. You called me a bitch."

"Well, a drunk mind speaks the truth of the heart." He sighed. "Or some shit like that. Look, I've got to go. I can't do this."

"Blaine,"

"Goodbye."

Blaine hung up.

David watched him closely, noticing the tears in his eyes, the fact that he was slightly shaking. "Hey, man. You okay? Do you want to leave?" He placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine just shrugged him off. "No. I need another drink." He stormed off back into the club.

David just shook his head. "Jesus."

Once Blaine was inside, he went to the bar for a couple more shots of the strongest thing the bartender would give him. Then he scanned the club for a moment, looking for the guy he was with earlier. He finally spotted him at a dark table across the way. Blaine made a beeline straight for him and when he finally reached the table, he planted a big, sloppy, desperate kiss on him. Which, of course the guy responded to by placing his hands on Blaine's hips? When they kiss finally ended the guy said, "Nice. Want a drink?"

Blaine shook his head, biting his lip.

"You wanna go to my place?" He smirked. "I live right upstairs."

"Abso-fuckin-lutely." Blaine growled before kissing the guy hungrily again.

David had followed Blaine inside, watching him carefully. When Blaine kissed the guy, David let out a "Dammit." Before searching for Wes, while still trying to keep an eye on Blaine, making sure he didn't leave.

"I am never babysitting these two again." He growled.

He finally found Wes around the time Blaine was agreeing to leave with the guy. "WESLEY. What the HELL are you doing?"

Wesley jumped off of Candy's lap, red lipstick all over his mouth. "No-nothing. Jesus, man. You scared me."

"Come one, we have to get Blaine and go home."

"Noooo." Wes whined, stamping his foot. "I wanna stay with Candyy."

"Wesley, Candy is a guy." David said in Wes' ear.

Wes' eyes got big and he looked at Candy, squinting his eyes. "There is no way."

"Okay, fine whatever. Shut up and come on." David pulled Wes away while Wes was mouthing 'call me' to Candy. Candy just laughed and adjusted herself.

By the time David got Wes away, he had lost sight of Blaine. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT."

Wes giggled. "That sounded funny."

"Shut up, stupid. Blaine is gone!" He groaned. "Fantastic." He pulled out his found as he rushed Wes to the car, forcing him in despite his sudden urge to dirty dancing, and strip, with the car next to them. Of course, Blaine's voicemail. Once, twice, seven times. Each time his message got more frantic.

…..

Blaine giggled, kissing the guy's (whose name he still didn't know) neck, once they reached his door. The guy kicked his door open, and shutting it after they stumbled inside. They fought with each other's clothes, tearing them off. There was a burning sensation in Blaine's stomach; the back of his mind told him it was guilt. That he should stop. But he didn't. He pushed the guy against the wall, kissing him roughly, down his neck and back up. The stranger gave it all back, kissing Blaine hard, tugging him closer.

Stop it.

Blaine opened his eyes for a moment, and then closed them again. He ignored the voice in his head; there was no room for his common sense while he was trying to have drunk, angry, sex with a stranger.

This isn't a good idea. Not only are you hurting him, you're hurting yourself. Stop it.

He shook his head. "No." He mumbled against the stranger's mouth.

"What?" He asked. "Something wrong?"

"No." Blaine said, "Come on." He backed up, onto the guy's bed, falling back, pulling him on top of him.

Just when the touching started to go a little too far the voice came back.

STOP.

He stopped kissing the guy; it was like his common sense actually slapped him sober. "Shit."

"What, what is it?"

"I-I can't do this. I can't do this. I'm…I'm sorry. I'm only doing this to get back at someone who has done nothing wrong. And- and it's not like he'll even know, because I won't tell him, because I don't want him to feel awful. I don't want to hurt him." Blaine blubbered on.

"No, it's…it's fine." The guy rolled off of Blaine, fixing his boxers. "Just go then."

"I'm really sorry." Blaine said, stumbling through the dark, finding his clothes and pulling them on.

"Hey, it's fine. Good luck." Said the guy, still in bed.

"Thanks..." Blaine called from the living room.

"Drew."

"Right. Drew. Thanks. I'm Blaine."

"Bye, Blaine."

Blaine made sure he had his phone and he rushed out of there and down the stairs, looking for Wes and David. When he couldn't find them, he sat down against the brick wall outside of the club, and he checked his phone, noticing it was off. When he turned it on he had fifty-seven missed calls. "Shit." He didn't even listen to the voicemails, he just called David.

"ANDERSON." David scolded.

"I am sorry." Blaine whimpered.

"Where the FUCK are you?" He sounded so frantic. Blaine could hear Wes in the background, screaming out the lyrics to All Time Low's A Party Song.

"I'm outside the club. David, I am so, so, so, so, so sorry."

"Be right there. Bye." He hung up.

Blaine just sighed, looking at his phone, checking it. He had hoped for something else from Kurt but there was nothing. He let tears fall down his face, he couldn't think straight. He was still very drunk, but he was definitely not cheery. He kept bumping his head into the brick. "You're an idiot Blaine.

David pulled up to the curb, screeching as he stopped. Blaine stood up and walked over to the car, getting in the passenger side. Wes had set up camp in the backseat, sleeping like a baby.

"David, I-"

"Save it. I am so mad at you right now."

"Join the club." Blaine muttered.