Blaine rolled his eyes, but Kurt froze next to him. Maybe there were somethings he didn't know about Santana.

"Santana-" Kurt started.

"Don't even try, Pretty Boy. It's already happening," she smirked and winked at Brittany, who struggled to wink back.

Kurt shot a worried look at Blaine. He tried to read the expression. Maybe she was a forced to be reckoned with. Maybe this would be a challenge.

Blaine grinned to himself. Challenge accepted.

"May the better hot piece of ass win," Blaine gave Santana a devilish grin. She returned it with a nod.

"Alright, you guys!" Mr. Shue walked into the choir room. Everyone began settling down, Kurt led Blaine to a few chairs in the back.

The choir director wrote a word on the white board and turned and read it, "Sectionals."

The glee club gave a few cheers and excited squeals. Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand and whispered in his ear.

"You're going to get a solo," he smiled.

Blaine shook his head dismissively, "They've only heard me once, remember?"

"Yeah, but they ate it up, didn't they?"

Blaine made to argue, but Mr. Shue returned to talking.

"This year we're up against two really great teams," he picked up a sheet of paper off of the piano, "Vocal Extreme and The Dalton Reform Academy Warblers."

Woah. Wait. What?

Blaine could feel a few eyes on him, Kurt's nearly burned a hole in the side of his face. The warblers were the competition. His old friends. His old teammates.

"Am I missing something here?" Mr. Shue asked over the hushed teenagers.

"Dalton was where Blaine used to go," Kurt spoke, keeping his eyes on Blaine, "I'm not sure how he's reacting..."

Blaine looked up from the tile to the waiting crowd of singers. He glanced to Mr. Shue who seemed to awkwardly shuffle the papers in his hand, as if they would give him something to say. Then he finally locked eyes with Kurt, who gave him a worried, anxious look.

"Well..." Rachel spoke up, "Are they good?"

Blaine stopped his staring and broke the trance, smirking and leaning back in his chair, "Nah, not since I left."

"Were you, like, the lead?" an Asian girl asked.

Blaine tried to keep a steady expression as the memories flooded through his mind. "Yeah. They probably suck now."

"Ahh yeah!" Puck high-fived an Asian guy in the back, "Sectionals are in the bag."

Kurt frowned in their direction, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Positive," Blaine shrugged, "They were all dicks anyway. It was a reform high school, mind you," he winked.

Kurt seemed to relax as did most of the others.

"Alright! We'll have one solo, one group number with a three part lead, and a duet. Now," Mr. Shue wrote a few dates on the whiteboard, "Sectionals are in sixteen days, the twenty-first. Which means that we will audition this week and practice the next."

Blaine stared at the date on the board. Sectionals were the twenty-first. Sixteen days away. Which made today the fifth. Today was the fifth of November. Shit.

"Shit," Blaine cursed under his breath.

Kurt gave him a concerned look, knitting his eyebrows. Blaine had no idea how he had forgotten. He'd been so preoccupied lately...�

Guilt began to pool in his stomach. He felt as if he had swallowed a large pill that got stuck in his throat.

He leaned into Kurt and whispered, "I have to go. I'm so sorry. I'll explain later, okay?"

Kurt gave him that same worried look, but nodded, "Later."

Blaine waited until Mr. Shue had turned back to the board and quietly slipped out the back exit. He always hated it when he forgot.

He jogged into the parking lot and started his old ford. He took a deep breath as he backed out of the space and headed toward Westerville, Ohio.�

Maybe it was stupid for him to be so... Nostalgic. But he knew even as he grew older he would always continue his tradition. Yes, his tradition. It was his alone. He made the walk up to the little church on the hill alone.

Blaine wondered why he bothered. It ended the same, every year. He was always left with more questions than answers and puffy red eyes. Blaine sighed. He plugged his ancient mp3 into his ancient stereo system and turned the music up so loud that the speakers crackled.

He let the music drown out his depressing thoughts as he sped down the wide open road. He left the shuffle run wild and only pressed the skip button a few times. After a couple songs, one in particular cane on that made Blaine want to smile and scream at the same time.

He let the familiar acoustic fill the truck cab, strumming along on the steering wheel.

"So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?"

Blaine half screamed, half sang the lyrics as they blasted out of his speakers.

"Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
And cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk on part in the war,
For a lead role in a cage?"

He let the music intermission pass before singing again with the last verse.

"How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,�
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found
The same old fears.
Wish you were here."

Blaine ignored the tear as it rolled down his cheek. He pulled into the small driveway of the old dilapidated church. He took some deep breaths before slowly stepping out of the truck and making the trek into the cemetery.

He crossed plot after plot until he reach the small white marble headstone. Blaine looked down and read the engraving he had memorized many years ago.

Nathan James Anderson
1989-2006
Rest in Peace

Blaine remembered being angry with his family for giving Nathan such a bland and generic description. He could've easily written an entire book on who Nathan was and what he had done in his life time.

Blaine grinned and sat down crossed legged in front of the gravestone. He let the cool breeze brush over him. For winter in Ohio is was a relatively warm day. Blaine glanced out across the grassy field in front of him. He watched the dead leaves float through the sky and tumble back to earth. It seemed like it was too beautiful of a place to be a cemetery.�

Blaine sighed and returned his gaze to the ground. It was always awkward at first.

"Nathan... It's been too long. I'm sorry for forgetting... again. I've just been so busy. Dad transferred me to this new school, I'm pretty sure it was just to be an ass. But anyway, Im at this new school and I met someone..." Blaine felt his heart clench, "I wish you could meet him, Nat. He's so beautiful. I've only known him for a few weeks and I know I already love him.

Blaine realized what he had just said. He loved Kurt. It seemed simple to think in his head, yet strange to say aloud.

"I don't want to freak him out though... so I'm keeping it to myself. He's just... He makes me so happy and... I've never felt like this. I must sound so different from last time. I guess that's what love does to you. It makes you soft and changes how you look at things. I know you told me to stay strong and keep myself closed. And I am, just... Not to him," Blaine shook his head to clear his thoughts. He picked at the grass in front of him, pulling it apart in his hands.

"Dad's still an ass. I guess that couldn't really change. He's got a new girlfriend now. She absolutely hates me," Blaine grinned, "I call her Barbie, and every time I do I think she dies a little inside." Blaine gave a watery chuckle and wiped at his nose.

"I miss you, Nat. I really, really wish you were here. You know, you kind of left me in hell. But I think you were supposed to... As weird as that sounds, I know I wouldn't be where I am or who I am right now if you hadn't... So thank you. Thank you for everything, Nathan."�

Blaine smiled at the headstone and drifted back into the one sided conversation about the past year. He would like to think that somewhere, somehow, Nathan was listening.

---

Kurt waved goodbye to his friends as they exited the choir room. He walked as slowly as possible. He had plans with Blaine, but now that that wasn't happening he wasn't sure what to do.

Kurt sighed. He had texted Blaine twice to see if he was okay. It was so weird for Blaine to just get up and leave, he had to get some answers. He check his phone once again. Nothing.

Frowning at the screen, Kurt shoved the phone back in his pocket and stopped in the hallway. Maybe now he could get some calc study in. He really found it hard to pay attention when he had a pair of gorgeous hazel eyes watching him. And his grades were slipping a bit...

Kurt turned on his heel and headed towards his locker. He knew that there was football practice today, but it ha probably already started. Which meant no chance for any jocks to 'accidentally' shove him on their way out to the field.

Kurt smiled to himself as he retrieved his textbook and made his way back to the parking lot.

"Well, well, well. I wonder what Kurtsie's doing here so late. Didn't homoexplosion already end?"

Kurt's heart dropped. He turned to face Dave Karofsky as he waltzed down the hall toward him.

"What do you want, Dave?" he sighed.�

"Where's your boyfriend, Kurt?" Dave shoved the other boy into the row of lockers, "Where's your little faggot boyfriend now?"

Kurt tried to get back to his feet, but was met with a kick to the gut. He felt the wind rush out of him, causing him to almost topple over.

"What're you going to do when your bodyguard isn't round to protect you, huh?" Karofsky aimed another kick to Kurt's side.

Dave pulled Kurt to his feet, holding him up against the cold metal. "You see this?" he pointed to the fading bruise around his eye, "I wonder how Blaine'll like it when his pretty little fuck buddy has one, too."

That's when Karofsky punched him. Hard. He completely missed his eye though. His fist connected with Kurt's cheekbone with a loud popping noise. Karofsky smiled and let Kurt drop to the floor in a heap.

"See you tomorrow, Fag," he called over his shoulder.

Kurt attempted to grab for his things, but everything was blurry. Hadn't he only grabbed one book? Why were there three now? He reached for them, but grasped at nothing.

Kurt groaned in pain. He tried to sit up, but was forced down by his dizziness. Now he started to panic. Where was he? Why was he on the ground? Everything was so unclear and wrong. Just wrong.

He racked his brain for any clues, but was suddenly tired. Extremely tired. He rested his head against the cool tile floor and let his eyes droop closed. He'd figure out this stuff later. He'd worry about it later.