Chapter 29: Don't Praise the Day...

Kurt could barely keep his eyes on the road as they were going back towards Lima. The fidgeting and tapping on the door and whatever was within Blaine’s reach was disturbing, but he knew asking him to stop wasn’t going to help. At first he didn’t even know what he could say to make Blaine feel better, because there was no way of knowing what was going on inside his head.

‘Would you really consider doing it if you could?,’ Kurt asked tentatively after a good hour and a half of deafening silence.

‘I don’t know. At least I’d have a choice.’

The tapping stopped for a moment as Blaine shrugged his shoulders.

‘Would it be better if you did? Have a choice?’

Another shrug, followed by Blaine rubbing his temples impatiently. He’d spent the whole time since leaving the hospital on focusing hard on keeping it together. He knew Kurt was trying to be helpful, but the usefulness of talking was debatable.

‘Depends on how much I want him dead,’ Blaine said finally.

‘And you don’t know that.’ It was a statement.

‘I don’t.’

Kurt nodded in acknowledgement not only of his boyfriend’s answer, but also of his own powerlessness. There was no use talking, so he stopped talking.

This time, the silence didn’t last long, broken by the unexpected ringing of Blaine’s phone. He picked up a little too roughly for its touch screen.

‘Yeah?,’ he said brusquely into the receiver.

‘Hi, Blaine, it’s Lindsey.’ The voice on the other end definitely belonged to Santana’s girlfriend, but she sounded strangely sad.

‘Hi, Linds, what is it?’ The hope Blaine had had attached to her name in his mind burst like a bubble.

The line stayed silent for a few seconds as she hesitated.

‘I’ve been talking to people about you these last few weeks. I’ve been playing them the demo you taped for me. They all loved you.’

‘Where’s the “but”, Lindsey?’

He could hear her sigh somewhere in New York City.

‘But you told me not to keep your health issues a secret, so I didn’t.’

Blaine snorted.

‘They don’t want me, because I’m crazy.’

‘Not exactly,’ Lindsey said in an attempt to soften the blow. ‘They said “unpredictable” and “challenging”.’

‘So I gather it’s a challenge they won’t accept.’

‘Actually, one label has a proposition for you, only it’s not what you could expect,’ she continues cautiously.

Blaine let out a long sigh.

‘Shoot. Nothing can make this day any worse.’

‘They want your music. They want you to write music for their artists.’

‘What?! No, that’s my music.’ Blaine’s heart began racing. If any of those label people had been within his reach, he would most certainly punch them where it hurts. ‘I don’t write for other people, I write for myself. You can tell them to go and fuck themselves. It’s psycho or no psycho, no in-betweens.’

‘I’ll rephrase that, if I may,’ Lindsey answered. ‘I thought you’d react that way and I respect that. But if you change your mind- you know where to find me.’

‘Yeah, but I’m not changing my mind. Thanks for telling me, though.’ Blaine bit his lip, feeling a little guilty for the way he talked to her. ‘Linds, you know I’m not angry with you, right?’

‘Sure. Have a happy Thanksgiving, both you and Kurt,’ she said.

‘Thanks. You too.’

Blaine hung up, barely stopping himself from throwing his phone on the car floor in frustration. Kurt would only glance at him from the corner of his eye every couple of seconds, without a word.

‘Aren’t you gonna ask what she said?,’ Blaine asked at last.

‘I heard. They want your songs and not the whole package. It’s their loss.’ He shrugged, forcing a small smile to try and cheer Blaine up. It didn’t work.

‘Right. It’s not like I lost a career opportunity only because I’m fucking insane.’ Blaine’s voice was full of bitterness.

‘Hey, don’t talk to me like it’s my fault,’ Kurt protested. ‘Sure, it didn’t work out for a ridiculous reason, especially ‘cause you’ve been better ever since you started composing again. That’s discrimination. But it doesn’t mean you won’t make it. With a label’s help or not. Look at all the people who made it thanks to freaking YouTube. Why can’t you try that, too?

Blaine snorted in annoyance.

‘Yeah, I’ll call my channel “Brooklyn Psycho Bieber”, people are gonna love it.’

‘Will you stop? You know what, you won’t get anywhere with this attitude,’ Kurt told him seriously. ‘Take a while to re-think your options, okay? And you still have your bar gigs, if all else fails. People love you, remember that.’

A short nod was Blaine’s whole answer and Kurt didn’t catch it. They were just entering the Lima city limits, and he was watching the road before entering a nasty intersection.

‘Blaine? Did you hear me?’

‘Yeah.’

Kurt turned his head around for a split second to send his boyfriend a comforting smile.

It was enough for him not to notice the car that swerved uncontrollably in the middle of the intersection. He only caught a glimpse of silver before the deafening screech of bent metal and clink of broken glass filled their SUV, and the air bag exploded, knocking him out.