"It was...interesting, to say the least," Kurt replied. "I'm kind of tired though, would you mind if I go upstairs and take a nap for a little while until dinner?"

"Sure, yeah that's great. Carole or I will call you down. But when we have dinner we need to talk about this Rachel business of yours. Seems like we've heard a little different side of that story," Burt said, giving Kurt that parental glance of disappointment.

Kurt grew red in the face. "Uh-uh. Yeah okay, whatever." Kurt ran up the stairs.

Oh Jesus, what'd that bitch do now? Fucking whore, ughhh

Kurt slammed his bedroom door shut and flopped down onto his bed. He let his laptop warm up.

I can see it now. 'What do you mean I'm not allowed to come to your house anymore?! I didn't do ANYTHING. I'm perfect. Finn, how are we supposed to have awkward sex where you can barely fit around my big-FAT-NOSE. WHY AM I SUCH A LIFE RUINER, SMHHH.'

Maybe that was a bit of embellishment.

Why can't the world just let a few of us erase one of its inhabitants—just a single person. One person taken away from 7 billion and growing is nothing; god and the sad thing is, after all this time— after all the shit that I've had to go through and take from such assholic....ASSHOLES—I'd still pick Rachel.

Fuming, Kurt logged onto Tumblr and immediately clicked the 'Text Post' button. He wasn't letting this bitch win this time around.

That two-faced bitch is probably stalking my blog waiting for this, so hear you go, fucker!

If you think that your tactics will work, you are SO fucking wrong; I dare you, hit me with your best shot because as Janice Ian said best, "You think that everybody loves you but they HATE you!!!!"

Kurt scrolled through his tags for a little while to settle down before noticing he had a first: TWO new messages. He clicked on the little red number two. And both, predictably, were from Blaine. Kurt's heart immediately started beating faster.

I know we've said this before and I know how this is moving quickly but I'm in it if you're in it. Today was really great and I already can't stop thinking about next Sunday :) P.S. Your lips are now filed under my 7 Wonders of Blaine's World. Congratulations, you've made history.

And right above that, the second message:

Oh and check your follower count... ;)

"What did that perfect person do....noWWW," Kurt shrieked.

Follower Count: 324

"How in the hell?!"

Kurt made his way to Blaine's blog and a few posts down was a link titled:

The Absolute Greatest Blog run by the Greatest Blogger

And of course, it was a link to Kurt's blog.

So let's review this weekend, Hummel. You've broken apart from your past. You've met this extremely cute, caring, and awesome dude who, oh yeah, you kissed. He managed to make your follower count jump by nearly 200. You were complemented on your hippopotamus pin—a feat in itself. You have a second date. And you've now got dirt on the biggest prick this world has ever seen...yeah; your life isn't half-bad.

However, much to Kurt's chagrin, his past would come swinging back to haunt him in the course of the next few hours.

At dinner that night, it was the four of them—Kurt, Finn, Carole, and Burt. The menu consisted of a turkey dinner with gravy, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, cranberry, and homemade-cornbread—easily one of the family's favorites. They sat, passing bowls and slathering on seconds in the quiet comfort of each others' silence. Or rather than comfort, more like such an extreme tension that nobody wanted to say or break anything so they waited until, finally, Burt broke the silence and jumped right onto the elephant in the room:

"Okay, let's get this over with—Kurt; are you forgetting to tell us something?" Burt demanded, the tension almost pouring out of him.

"other than the fact that Rachel Berry is the biggest whore known to man—"

"Hey! WATCH IT!" Finn interrupted. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about!"

"Yeah, except girlfriend implies there's a healthy relationship between two people; you two, however, are only able to create the largest amount of petty drama this world has ever seen."

"WE DO NOT!" Finn argued.

"Your last 'big' argument was over why you didn't have Peppermint toothpaste in your bathroom."

"So what?! People are allowed to disagree!"

"Except she justified it as the best and...what were her exact words...'the most tasteful' way of getting rid of that 'salty taste of Finn's cum.'"

"Ohh heaven's mercy," Carole yelled, throwing down her utensils and clasping her face in her hands.

"DUDE. WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!?" Finn yelled, trying to jump over the table and strangle Kurt to death—only being held back by Burt.

"KURT. I don't care what your thing is with someone—friend, ex-friend, boyfriend, your family, your teacher. You do not speak of anyone in that manner, DO YOU HEAR ME!!?" Burt's veins pulsated quite rapidly and largely as his face turned a crimson shade of red.

"Oh yeah dad, surrreeee I hear you. Except Rachel is not a person—she's just a volatile, cheep sex-doll that would rather drink down her insecurities and lure boys into taking off their condoms to achieve that risky, popular-girl status than actually behave like a normal human being and be placed on the middle of the toddom pole."

Everything erupted. The scene broke into utter chaos. Finn broke free from Burt just long enough to spear Kurt to the floor and slam a right hook right against his jaw line.

Kurt's face lit up—feeling like a volcano had just erupted onto his cheek—and then the numbness sank in for a second before a seething pain shot through the nerves of his teeth. Carole was yelling loudly as Burt ripped Finn from on top of Kurt and slammed him against the floor.

"FINN. FINN. STOP. JUST STOP IT. EVERYONE STOP IT!!" Carole cried.

"Alright Finn. Out of the house; let's go cool off! NOW. Burt yelled, jerking Finn from off of the floor and pulling him to the front.

"Just be glad I didn't swing harder. I would have broken your fucking face if I had the chance!" Finn yelled, as Burt struggled to finally yank him outside.

Kurt coughed. His face was already swelling and his teeth were soaked in blood. Carole had gone to the kitchen to grab a bag of frozen peas and placed it on Kurt's face. Kurt sat up and hesitantly took the bag. Carole gave a sad smile at Kurt.

"I...I am so sorry, Carole. That wasn't—"

"Shh-shh. There-there. Come here," Carole said, taking Kurt by the head and cradled him in her arms as he let the frozen peas work their magic.

"You know, I've gotta tell you. I'm almost glad you said that out loud," Carole said quietly. Kurt wasn't sure if it was the peas or the swelling but he couldn't believe that he heard that correctly.

"You...are...?"

"Yeah. That Rachel—boy she's some character." They both chuckled. "I have to tell you, when I first met her, I knew she'd be a bad one—maybe not to this degree but definitely something. She always had that whorrish appearance to me."

Kurt couldn't but contain his laughter.

"I mean really, that slutty-little-preppy-girl look? God, who's she trying to fool. Haha, she looks like she belongs in an old Britney Spears music video."

"Carole!" Kurt blurted, in between his long spits of uncontrollable laughter.

"Haha, what! You know it's true!"

Kurt nodded.

"So to keep this from getting any more of a..."

"Of a Broadway show?"

"Yes. Why don't you just tell me what happened. I'm all ears. No judgment. Hell, I've just got conformation by child has been having unprotected sex for a while. Nothing could possibly shock me more for the night."

Kurt complied. And for the next thirty minutes, Kurt spilled his guts. He told Carole all about Rachel and he's relationship. Everything leading up until last Friday night (where no, they were not dancing on table tops or taking too many shots—at least, not Kurt). And Carole listened, giving the occasional nod in understanding. And after Kurt finally finished, she thanked him and suggested he go take a nice, warm bath before getting some rest for school tomorrow. He asked if he could stay home until the swelling went down more but she gave him that Carole glance and he knew the answer.

The next morning was pretty silent. Kurt said nothing to Finn; Finn didn't even make eye-contact with Kurt. Finn left early to pick Rachel up; Kurt the same but to get his morning roast of coffee from the Lima Bean. The bruise on his face didn't look too bad—it had a brownish tint to it by now. With a few days time, it'd be barely noticeable, but he knew people would ask, so he just decided to say he'd rather not talk about it.

Kurt pulled into the parking lot of McKinley and was met with quite the scene. All of the glee club members were huddled around each other's cars and talking. Kurt parked his car, got out with his coffee and books, and mustered up strength to act as if nothing had happened. He waved.

"Hey guys!"

They all gave him the stank eye. Hands on hips, bitch faces out. Not a soul replied. And then they all turned around and walked inside—happy and cheerful, as if nothing happened. And Kurt was left all alone with his coffee and books in the parking lot, fighting back the urge to turn around and drive as far away as possible.