Chapter 3

Kurt giggled to himself, too quiet for Rachel to hear. He was dishing out their dinner, and Rachel had demanded to eat it on the living room sofa. She claimed her muscles ached too badly for her to sit on one of the bar stools at the counter. Kurt's jollity had nothing to do with his friend's suffering; he was simply amused by how well he could predict the drastic change in her mood.

Because, as he had foreseen during their lunch break, Rachel's enthusiasm got curbed by the formidable Cassandra July. After Rachel's first Dance class, it turned out there was only one person in the entire group that could dance at all – at least according to Ms July. And that person was certainly not Rachel.

Having used up a dozen tissues and been comforted patiently by Kurt, Rachel decided not to give up just yet – right after coming home from NYADA, she had been half certain she'd quit and go back to Lima to find a job at a WalMart. When he finally managed to convince her that everyone struggles in the NYADA Dance studio, he went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, listening to Rachel rant about her determination and how she "will show that July woman who rules this place… no offence, Kurtie."

So he was giggling over the spaghetti napoli he had cooked for dinner. This was the part of their friendship he missed the most the previous year – he had got enough of the tears and Drama Queen Rachel through their never-ending phone calls. Now, finally, he remembered what they were like when the drama was gone. He really did miss that.

Kurt brought their plates out to the living room and they dug into their pasta.

'So, what about other people in your classes? Anyone you feel threatened by?,' he asked, half-jokingly.

'Hey!' She punched him lightly on the arm. 'Well, it's hard to say for now. It's not like everyone had a solo at the start. So I don't really know. They could all be better than me.'

She said that last sentence, intending it as a joke, but then she made a panicked face.

'What if they are?! Oh my God, what if they are, Kurt?!'

He raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed, trying not to overreact, while he repeated himself for the twentieth time this afternoon.

'Rachel, how many times do I have to tell you, they cannot all be better than you. It's impossible, and you know it.'

Her lips puckered for a second.

'Yeah, I guess I do.' She cheered up a little. 'Okay, no more moping.'

'I've already heard that today.'

They were chewing for a few minutes in silence, until Rachel spoke again.

'Oh, and there's this one guy, he's totally cute, and I'm thinking maybe I should try and get him. You know, I've moved on from Finn, and I guess I could find someone at NYADA, to match up to me with their talent, and to be part of my new start in New York.'

Kurt eyed her skeptically.

'Um- Rache, you were listening to me, when I was telling you that more than half of the guys at NYADA are gay, right?'

'Yeah, so what? It's not like all of them are. There's the remaining forty percent that plays for my team.'

'And how exactly can you be sure the one you set your eyes on does?,' he asked, his eyebrows raised quizzically.

Rachel crossed her arms on her chest.

'I have a gaydar, too, just so you know.'

He laughed at her indignant pose.

'Okay, okay, let's assume you are right and he's straight. Continue talking about this cutie of yours.'

She immediately unfolded her arms, shifting her position and leaning forwards.

'Right, so he's name is Blaine and he-'

'Wha- What did you just say?'

Rachel fixed a startled gaze on his face.

'I said he's name's Blaine. What's so surprising about it?'

Kurt swallowed his mouthful of spaghetti.

'Well, does this Blaine guy have dark hair with a bit too much gel in it?'

It was Rachel's turn to be astonished.

'Are you psychic or something and I don't know about it?'

He sent her an are-you-serious kind of look, while trying to arrange what he really knew about Blaine, apart from the fact that he used hair gel in gigantic quantities. He knew Blaine was from Ohio, from a town just outside Lima. He knew Blaine was cute and had beautiful hazel eyes. He knew there was a sense of understanding between them. He knew Blaine liked Kurt's voice. Nothing more.

'No, I just bumped into him this morning and showed him how to get to his class.' He shrugged.

'Oh. So what does your gaydar say? Is he gay or not?'

The memories from earlier seemed to have made him forget what they were talking about in the first place.

'What? Um-' He considered it for a few seconds; the way Blaine moved, the way he spoke, the way he looked at him… 'Yup, he's gay.'

Rachel's jaw dropped.

'I don't believe you!'

'Well, you have every right to, but I wouldn't try to make a pass at him, if I were you.' Kurt picked up their plates, and directed his steps to the kitchen.

'Oh God, you want to do it yourself! You want to make a pass at him!' She jumped up, and grimaced when her muscles reminded her of her pains.

Kurt stalled for a moment, thinking about what she'd just said. Did he really want to do that? He didn't know the answer himself. Rachel didn't notice his hesitation, squeezing her eyes shut in pain.

'No, Rache, don't be ridiculous,' he replied finally. 'I don't even know him.'

'Okay, but I still know better. Oh, and let's find out if he's gay.'

'And how exactly do you want to do it? Walk up to him in a hallway and ask? Or maybe you want to break into his dorm and hack into his computer to see if he has gay porn on it?,' Kurt scoffed.

Rachel frowned.

'No, of course not. I'll come up with something, don't you worry. And when we know, the one who was wrong buys the other a treat. Let's say, some baked goodness. Deal?'

'Deal,' said Kurt, rolling his eyes. 'But what if he's bi?'

'Then it's a tie and we simply go out for cakes.'

***

It took two days for Rachel to find a way of establishing beyond a shadow of doubt whether Blaine was gay or not. Early on Wednesday afternoon she caught up with Kurt in the NYADA hallways to share her idea.

'I got it!', she chirruped excitedly, gripping him by his forearm.

'You got what exactly, may I ask?'

'A way to find out if Blaine's gay!' Her whisper was a little too audible, so Kurt shushed her.

'What? It's not like I'm yelling.'

'Fine. So what did you come up with?'

A wide grin split her face.

'Alright. Some freshmen are having a party at the dorms on Saturday, you know, to get to know each other better-'

'That is, to drink until they pass out together or throw up all over one another.'

'Whatever. They're having that party and I thought I'd go and take you with me as my plus one, and once Blaine's drunk – oh, he lives in the dorms, by the way – we can see which team he plays for.'

Her grin managed to become even broader.

'How, again? How do you want to see that?'

'Well- Most people, when they're drunk, they become less inhibited and they start hitting on people, or groping them, or something-'

Kurt was barely able to stop himself from laughing out loud.

'Yeah, because you have so much experience with drunk people and parties, Rachel Berry.'

'Okay, go on mocking me.' She pouted.

'Fine, we'll go to that damn party.' He rolled his eyes. 'Under one condition: you will not try and force yourself on Blaine. Sober or otherwise. Either of you.'

Rachel's mood lifted, and her enthusiasm returned with full force.

'Great! I won't force myself onto him.' She paused. 'But you have to promise me the same. You won't hit on Blaine at the party.'

'Okay, I won't. But I'm going now. And it's not like I wanted to hit on him anyway.'

But deep down, he wasn't truly convinced by his own words.

***

Living in the dorms turned out to be terribly uncomfortable for Blaine, just as he had feared. He and Trent talked to each other as little as possible, usually exchanging hellos and asking and answering petty questions. There were also moments, when Trent made random remarks, only deepening Blaine's uneasiness around him.

'A little too much gel today, Blaine, don't you think?,' he said snippily on Thursday morning. 'I guess you'll soon be broke if you go on using a ton a day.'

Hair jokes were his favourite. They were also the ones that pissed off Blaine the most.

Until Friday morning, when Trent emerged out of their shared bathroom – in nothing but a towel tied round his hips – to find Blaine tying his bow-tie in front of the tall mirror by his wardrobe.

'Stop staring, that bow-tie's faggy enough.'

Blaine's heart dropped, his hands froze by his neck. He wasn't staring, his look wandered automatically towards the opening door. He'd already seen Trent half-naked, and assumed there was not much to ogle.

The initial shock wore off in a moment, during which Trent returned to the bathroom. Blaine didn't manage to say anything.

He only grabbed his bag and left the room.

***

Blaine's thoughts were still racing, when he entered NYADA.

This was New York. New York. He was supposed to be safe here. This was the whole point of leaving Ohio! Getting out of that hateful environment. Away from the people who dropped words like faggy like it didn't matter, like it couldn't hurt anyone. To a place where he could be himself, without explanations, without apologies, without the fear of getting beaten up again. To a place where he could really start hoping for a better future.

Why couldn't it just be the way he wished, just this once?

***

'Hurry up, Kurt, we're going to be fashionably late as it is!,' came Rachel's voice from outside of the bathroom door.

Kurt sprayed his hair a little bit more, to make sure it wouldn't fall apart after half an hour.

'Relax, Rache, I'm coming.'

He looked critically at his reflection once more, taking in the skinny black jeans, red Marc Jacobs shirt and black tie (faux-sloppily left a little loose). This would do.

'Finally!'

Rachel was already waiting for him by the door, fully dressed and with her purse in her hands. She was wearing a frilly black skirt with a loose-fitting red knitwear blouse and a black jacket. Kurt started regretting they'd decided to colour-coordinate. They looked like a couple. A very well dressed couple nonetheless

'Um- You look great, Rache,' he said.

'You too.' She smiled at him. 'But you don't need to get them to like you, you're the star.'

'Rachel,' he groaned.

***

When they reached the dorms, the building was buzzing with music and teeming with people. It wasn't necessary to know where the party was supposed to take place, the sounds could lead a blind man to the right spot.

'You said it was a freshmen party, right?, asked Kurt warily, when they entered a crowded corridor.

'Um- Yeah, I guess I did.'

'There's probably more people than in the whole of NYADA, if you haven't noticed.'

'Well, it wasn't freshmen- or NYADA-exclusive I suppose. People brought dates.'

Kurt covered his face with his hand.

'Why did I even agree to this?,' he muttered.

'Because we have a mission, don't forget about it!'

Rachel was getting impatient. There was no point in resisting entering the crowd at this point; any resistance would be futile. Rachel usually got what she wanted.

'Okay, let's do it.' He grabbed her hand and dragged her forwards. Then he stopped, turning to face her. 'Just don't embarrass me, young lady.'

***

Blaine had no intention of going to the much talked about freshmen party. All he wanted to do on Saturday night was crawling up in his bed with a book and enjoying having his room to himself (as Trent had announced, there was 'no way in hell for him not to go.') However, when Saturday night came, it became clear no one in the building could skip the party; peace and quiet were particularly hard to come by.

Not five minutes after Trent left, and Blaine had just managed to crack open his book, when someone downstairs turned up the music so loud it drowned the sounds coming from Blaine's headphones. He groaned, putting a pillow over his head. It didn't help in the slightest. He hoped maybe they'd turn the volume down a little, so the walls would stop vibrating. The beat made the building collapsing an actual threat.

Ten minutes passed with Blaine lying idly on his bed. There was no chance of getting a peaceful night now.

There was also no point in sitting all alone in his room, when there was booze pouring in cascades and people groping each other in the dark right outside the door. Not that he expected to be groped or to grope himself. But booze could maybe make him chill out.

He couldn't know that for sure, though. He had never tasted alcohol before.

***

Kurt didn't feel comfortable at all. The massive crowd of already tipsy people, the lack of proper lighting, brushing his body against strangers in the cramped corridors – he really did not like parties. Especially those organized in student dormitories.

He almost tripped on a beer keg, and almost (thankfully) spilled his vodka tonic all over his shirt.

'Fuck,' he muttered under his breath.

Rachel had left him alone in the crowded building, in an attempt to find Blaine, while Kurt tried to somehow get back to the common room at the end of the second floor hallway, where the party originated from. It was also were the booze was, and he needed another drink to survive in that zoo.

He had to pick his way carefully around lonely drunks and a bit overly affectionate couples, eating each other's faces off in the middle of corridors. At one point he had to squeeze himself between a group of giggling girls and the wall; unfortunately, someone didn't lock their door properly, and when he was moving past it, he practically fell into a room, catching a glimpse of a couple in flagrante. He fled the room in haste, shaking his head to remove the picture from his mind and praying they didn't notice him.

Finally reaching the common room, Kurt poured himself another drink and settled in a corner, out of sight, to watch others get drunk and wait for Rachel to come back. She had to at some point.

***

Blaine emerged out of his room into the dim-lit hallway of the third storey, which was empty, apart from a couple scurrying to one of the rooms and feeling each other up on the way. He sighed. He'd already made up his mind about going downstairs, but having the picture of couples glued together forced in his face all night wasn't the height of his happiness. It reminded him he didn't have anyone to glue himself to, and that it would probably be long until that happens, if it ever does.

He pushed his way through the packed corridors, heading for the common room. Didn't they say the party was supposed to be there?

'Blaine!'

A voice tore through the deafening music somewhere to his right. He looked around, startled. Was someone calling him, or was there another Blaine? Or maybe he was imagining things.

But, no, apparently, someone was talking to him. That obnoxious chatterbox from some of his classes. What was her name? Rachel, was it? Rachel Barry? Berry? Whatever. What did she want from him?

'Hi?' It sounded like a question.

'Hi, I'm so glad you're here! I thought there'd be more people I know! Come on, let's get you a drink!'

She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him after her.

'Okay,' he muttered, disoriented, letting her drag him on.

***

Kurt took another sip from his plastic cup, thoroughly bored. Thankfully, no one noticed him in his corner by the counter on which he rested his elbow. He glanced at his watch; it was only ten, and he'd already had enough.

A few sips later, Rachel rushed into the room, dragging a confused Blaine behind her. She cast her eyes around the room, peering in the semi-darkness. She finally caught sight of Kurt, gracefully propped on the counter.

'Kurt!,' she called, but her voice drowned almost completely in the noise.

He raised his cup in greeting, deepening Blaine's bewilderment.

'You two know each other?,' asked Blaine, when they reached Kurt, trying to roar the music down.

'Hello to you too, Blaine,' said Kurt, smiling. 'Yes, she's the reason I'm here. She likes dragging people along, as I'm sure you've noticed.'

Blaine laughed.

'Yeah, I did.'

He suddenly felt awkward. It was an entirely unfamiliar situation for Blaine; not just being at a party – one with booze – but talking to someone he liked. At a party. A party with booze.

'I guess I'm gonna get myself that drink,' he mumbled, heading to a beer keg placed on the counter, hoping he wouldn't make a fool out of himself, if it turns out to be too difficult for him to pour the beverage properly into the cup he took from a high stack next to the beverages.

Luckily for him, Kurt and Rachel engaged in a heated conversation, filled with vigorous gesticulation, mostly on her part, and they weren't paying any attention to him. He managed to fill his cup (half with foam), and returned to them.

The moment Rachel saw him – after a glare was sent her way by Kurt – she stopped whipping her hands around and smiled sweetly at Blaine. Were they talking about him? Did he have something on his face?

He took a sip of his beer to mask his uneasiness. It was bitter, but quite tasty, in its own peculiar way.

'So, Blaine, how do you like NYADA?' Kurt took it upon himself to re-start the conversation.

After a while of talking to them, Blaine realized that Rachel wasn't nearly as obnoxious as he had assumed her to be. Certainly, she was a little self-centered and egotistical, but from what he observed, she and Kurt were great friends, and it was hard for him to believe that someone like Kurt would be friends with a complete bitch.

Blaine was also quite proud of himself, because he managed not to make a fool out of himself in front of Kurt. And Kurt seemed positively impressed when Blaine mentioned having been a soloist in the Warblers. New Directions never went against the Dalton show choir in a competition, but both of the McKinley alumni had heard a lot of praise about it.

So the conversation continued, going from high schools and glee clubs, through Broadway shows and who would be the best Rum-Tum-Tugger, all the way back to NYADA and the teachers. They refilled their cups until the alcohol made Rachel's voice even more piercing than usually, Kurt to feel slightly drowsy, and Blaine's knees to wobble a bit.

And when the three of them had admitted to themselves they were tipsy, someone in the centre of the room made a suggestion.

'Let's spin the bottle!'

A girl, who Kurt had seen around NYADA, but never officially met, who had spent the previous couple of hours hanging from her boyfriend's arm, detached herself from her other half, apparently offended about something. She beckoned to everyone gathered in the common room.

'No fucking way,' muttered Kurt into his drink.

He knew it as soon as the girl started saying spin, that Rachel was going to use the situation. Her face lit up, and she jumped up, nearly tripping when she landed.

'Oh, let's go, guys!' She glared at Kurt knowingly.

He just shook his head.

'You go on.' This was going to be a disaster. Drunk Rachel wasn't her best look.

Unfortunately, Kurt hadn't expected her to understand you as a plural pronoun. Which she did, and once more gripping Blaine's arm firmly, she dragged him to the spot where the others were settling on the floor with an empty vodka bottle.

Kurt stayed in his corner, but shifted to have the best possible view on the spin-the-bottle group. And so the fun began. The people – complete strangers, acquaintances and best friends mixed into one big crowd of sloshed youth – making out with one another to the amusement of the rest. It was all pretty boring and depressing for Kurt at the same time. Until Blaine's turn came and he reached for the bottle.

And it spun. And spun. And spun a little more slowly.

And stopped, with its neck pointed directly at Rachel.

Rachel's astonished gaze drifted around the room in search of Kurt. When it finally found him, he sent her a look that said you-knew-it-could-happen-now-go-for-it-if-you-have-to.

So she giggled nervously, as Blaine extended his hand to her to pull her closer. He seemed to be having fun. Oops. Was Kurt wrong then?

And he was watching them, how their lips met for a few seconds. He couldn't see much more in the dim light; he felt like he'd already seen too much. Was it because his best friend was making out with a guy he'd deemed to be gay? Or was it because he wanted to be in her shoes?

A wave of relief washed over Kurt the moment Blaine and Rachel's lips parted for good, and they fell back to their places, her with a goofy smile plastered on her face. She waved at Kurt, trying to get his attention.

'He's so not gay,' she mouthed, when he looked over at her.

'Oh, yes, he is,' he mouthed back.

She frowned in response, but the expression was soon replaced by a mischievous smile.

'You have some stuff for karaoke here, don't you?,' she shouted to some of the people in the spin-the-bottle crowd.

They nodded.

'Let's sing!' She jumped up to her feet. 'Blaine, do you wanna sing first?'

She giggled. Kurt rolled his eyes. Did she want to prove Blaine was straight by his choice of song?

Apparently, alcohol lowered Blaine's inhibitions enough for him to agree to sing first. After a moment's bustle around the communal TV set, Blaine took over the improvised stage with a microphone in his hand, and the karaoke music replaced the dance stuff that had been blaring from the speakers all night.

The first few notes made Kurt's jaw drop, and the next few made him smile smugly at Rachel, whose bewilderment didn't seem to be as easy to wipe away.

And then, Blaine started singing.

This was never the way I planned, not my intention…

But soon Kurt didn't care that Blaine was singing a Katy Perry song, a song that – all things considered – said quite clearly that he was gay. Soon the only thing that mattered was that he could listen to his voice.

And oh, what a voice it was.