PRESENT DAY:
August 19th 2017.
Kurt Hummel:

I'd seen him. I was sure of it. My logical mind couldn't make sense of it. I knew he was dead, after all I'd watched it happen. But there wasn't a doubt in my mind it had been him standing outside the coffee shop window. A place not unlike one which we'd spent most of our adolescence. A place where'd he'd first said "I love you" and where I'd said "I love you too".

I know it was his eyes. It had been five years bit I'd know his eyes anywhere. It was an image burned into my memory. His hazel eyes, always so calming and reassuring. I could see those eyes peaking up at me from under the covers, shining bright as he laughed.

There was also the other memory of those eyes, one I tried my hardest to forget. But I never had such luck. All I had to do was close my eyes to see him lying there helplessly, blood trickling down his face. His hazel eyes locked on mine, desperate and scared. I could hear him calling out my name, crying for help. But I couldn't help him. I could hardly move myself. Slowly his cries stopped and then I was lying there next to him, but more alone than I'd ever been.

One night had taken everything away. The love of my life was left in a bloody pool, a hammer tossed beside him carelessly. Finn says I'm too graphic, that I've no boundaries or sense of control. Really, I just don't care anymore. That tends to happen, when you lose everything you ever wanted.

I never thought I would see him again. I'd thought those hazel eyes, the dark curls; were all but a memory. But today I saw him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the lack of sleep or even the pain meds. But maybe, just maybe it was him.

I'd never been one for the supernatural. God, afterlife, ghosts; it had been a joke to me. But when you lose someone you'll find you'll believe anything. And there wasn't a fibre in my body that didn't hope it had really been Blaine I'd seen this afternoon, and not just my subconscious. Because that would mean Blaine wasn't gone, he wasn't nothing.

I was nothing without Blaine. I needed him. I didn't know why or how he'd come, if it was real or all in my mind. But however it had happened, I knew one thing for certain; I needed to see him again. I needed to hear his voice one last time.

PAST DAY:
August 22nd 2012:
Kurt Hummel:

7:14 pm

"I never thought it would happen with me and the boy in the blazer." I sighed happily. "He's my fairytale prince."
"You two are adorable, Kurt!" Rachel giggled. "If I was a gay boy I'd be insanely jealous. Still am, actually."
"Remember when you told me I make you want to be my boyfriend? I must have some charm to make you consider a gender swap." I teased, taking another sip of coke.
"At least I didn't profess my love for you like Mercedes! What is it about you that makes girls fall in love with you?"

"It's the eyes, definitely the eyes."

I glanced over and smiled warmly. Blaine slid into the booth beside me, scooting closer until we were touching. Blaine put his arm around my shoulder, squeezing gently.
"But it's the fact that you're superior at everything that drives them away." Blaine winked playfully.

I laughed lightly. "That's okay, I don't want the girls to stay anyways. Just the boys."
"Boys, plural?" Blaine mocked being angry, throwing his hands in the air. "How many boys are there, Kurt?"
"Oh, you know, three or four... this week." Blaine nudged me playfully in the ribs.
"Ticklish!" I yelped, trying to wiggle free of Blaine's grip. "Blaine!" I whined. He sighed and pulled me back into his arms.

"Relax." he smiled, leaning down for a kiss, his lips soft and familiar. He pulled away and gave me a quick wink. I seized my chance, reaching out and tickling his stomach. We collapsed on the booth laughing.

We were beginning to attract strange looks from other customers in the restaurant.

"Excuse me, can you be quiet!" An elder woman hissed from the next booth over.
"Sorry." We muttered, stifling laughter. Across from us Rachel was shaking her head in disapproval.
"Idiots." She sighed, yet a smile tugged at her lips.

"Girls just wanna have fun" slowly faded away. The crowd applauded politely as a nervous, young girl practically flew from the stage.
"Up next, we have Gina with "Beautiful"! Let's give Gina a welcoming round of applause!" The MC exclaimed.

"I think we're up next!" Rachel clapped excitedly. "I signed us up for lots of songs, don't worry! That reminds me, I should add "Piano Man", that's always a crowd pleaser. Plus, we are in a bar so it only seems fitting."
"Restaurant." Blaine corrected her.
"Bar sounds more promiscuous. Singers and songwriters hang out in bars. Young artists, such as ourselves!"

I rolled my eyes and took another sip of coke, watching Blaine and Rachel discuss our set list for tonight enthusiastically.
"We need more Barbara Streisand!" Rachel persisted.
"As long as we add more Katy Perry!" Blaine added.

Sometimes it was hard to believe all of this was real. In just a few weeks I was heading off to New York with my boyfriend and best friend to go study music as NYADA. I was happier than I'd ever been in my entire life. I could finally forget about the bullies from high school. All that was over and done. A new city, a new start. Finally, a life I could call my own.

"Santana! Brittany! Just in time!" Rachel cried, hurrying over to pull up chairs for our friends.
"Hey guys." Santana said. "We would have been here sooner but Brittany over here insisted we walk."
"You need thirty minutes of physical activity a day or bad things will happen." Brittany said seriously.
"Britt, I told you, what we did last night counts, and that was way longer than thirty minutes."

Blaine and Rachel exchanged puzzled looks. Santana caught my eye and winked. I rolled my eyes in response, but I couldn't help but laugh.

"So, what song am I singing?" Santana asked. "And for the love of god don't say you signed me up for some tear jerker. I wanna dance with Britt tonight." She smiled over at Brittany, their pinkies linked.
"Is Valerie okay? You're up with that right after us." Rachel asked, checking her notebook.
"Excellent. Now where's the waitress at? I need some scotch to get that raspyness."

"Santana, we're underage!" Rachel hissed under her breath, glancing around.
"Oh, relax!" Santana laughed, leaning back in her seat. "We're almost out of this shit hole anyways."

"Did you decide what you're doing yet, Santana?" I asked.
"New York bound, baby!" She exclaimed. I noticed Brittany look away at this, the smile sliding off her face.

There was a round of applause, I joined in hastily, not having noticed the song end.
"Up next, Klainchel will sing U2's "Beautiful Day"!"

"RACHEL!" I glared at her. "Klainchel! Are you serious?"
"Yes!" She giggled, grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the booth. My eyes darted over to Blaine but he just shrugged.
"This is so embarrassing!" I whined as I was hauled over to the stage.

I climbed up the stairs, grabbing a mic from the MC and standing next to Blaine.
"Hi I'm Rachel Berry! I hope you're all having a great night!" The crowd just stared back at her.
One group of young men in the front sat up a little straighter, muttering to one another and sneering up at us.
I felt my heart flutter. I realized I was getting incredibly nervous.

"You're not supposed to make a speech." Blaine whispered to Rachel, but she paid him no attention.
"Me and my friends really hope you enjoy this. It's a song that's always been very close to my heart, ever since-"

I could tell Rachel had more to say but the music cut her off. It seems the MC could also tell that would have been a long and useless story, which would also have caused me further embarrassment. I tried to remember to thank him later.

Rachel began to sing. Her voice beautiful and powerful like always, hitting every note with precision.

"The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There's no room
No space to rent in this town."

Blaine was next. His low and clear voice was soothing. I smiled, forgetting my nerves and instead watching him. He was so at peace, so happy while singing. It reminded me of the first time I saw him sing, which also happened to be the moment I fell in love with him.

"You're out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you're not moving anywhere."

When my part came I was ready. I sang as loud and smooth as I could.

"You thought you'd found a friend
To take you out of this place"

I heard laughter. I frowned and looked around the crowd. Many of them looked impressed, some were even swaying in time to the music. But that same group of men at the front were laughing. They smirked up at me. I bit my lip, glancing over at Blaine. He looked upset and angry, but when he caught my eye he smiled encouragingly. I took a breath and continued.

"Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace."

"Fag."

I whipped around. Those men were cheering now, calling out inaudible words, slurring their sentences. If the dozens of empty beer bottles on their bottle were any indication, they were drunk out of their minds. Yet it still hurt just as much.

I could sense tears welling up in my eyes but I fought them back. No, I wouldn't let them get to me. Not tonight. This was the first night of the rest of our lives, we deserved to have fun.

"I'm fine." I said as we left the stage before Blaine could say anything. "Seriously, it's fine."
"It's not."
"It is."

Blaine put his arm around me but I shrugged him off, hurrying to catch up with Rachel.
"We were brilliant." I said. "Especially you, that last note-"
"I can't believe those homophobes, are you okay? Should we leave."
"Not you too." I groaned. "It's fine! It doesn't even matter. I sound girly, I know, and it's fine."
"Kurt, I know you're upset." Blaine began seriously.
"I am not." I looked away and ignored him stubbornly.
"It's okay to be upset, I am too."
"Well I'm not so let's just forget this and move on. Finn will be here soon and then we can have the pool tournament."
"But-"
"Blaine! It's fine."

I hurried away from him and over to Santana. Her and Brittany had just exited the bathroom with a fresh coat of makeup.
"We're ready!" Santana declared.
"Good luck!" I reached over and straightened her hair bow, it's bright red standing out brilliantly against her dark hair; a touch I'd added earlier.

11:07 pm

"Your shot."

Finn handed me the pool cue and I eyed the table, my mind working fast to take in all the possible outcomes. Pool was something I was good at. It was relaxing, refreshing. I was able to focus all my attention on the game, concentrate on just me and the balls; a metaphor I used once and had made Finn roar with laughter and fall of his chair. His lack of maturity had never shone brighter.

I sunk Finn's ball quickly and swiftly. I smiled smugly at him, passing over the pool cue.
"Fat chance winning now."

"I hate playing with you, you always win." Finn bent over his cue, his brows furrowed in concentration. I sighed and glanced around, this could take a while. The longer along in the game we got and the farther ahead I pulled, the longer it took Finn to make up his mind on the shot. He was the most indecisive person I'd ever met. The absolute opposite of me. I knew what I wanted and I went for it without hesitation.

Blaine was up on the stage with the girls, singing drunkenly to a Coldplay song. I laughed softly, watching him stumble around with Brittany, Santana and Rachel doing what could just barely be described as dancing.
"Hey, Finn, they kind of look like you when you dance sober." I joked.
"Sh I'm in the zone."

The restaurant was almost empty now. Only a few groups were left, all too drunk to be paying attention to the singers, surely, because I was pretty sure Blaine and Santana didn't even know this song and were just slurring random noises together.

The group of young men from earlier had left a few minutes ago, thank god. They'd been making me very anxious, sneering at me from the next pool table. Finn was, as always, oblivious. But I suppose that was good, I didn't want him worrying. He worried way too much as it was.

"Damnit."

Finn's ball fell through the hole, mine remaining untouched. I grabbed the cue carelessly and shot the 8 ball down the hole. My streak continued.
"All hail the king."
"Oh shut up." Finn muttered, cursing to himself. "Why can't I ever win one game?"
"Cause you're playing the king."
"No, seriously, I suck." I glanced sideways at him. He looked really down. Something told me it wasn't just about pool anymore. In a few days Rachel would be leaving for New York, and Finn too. But Finn had no idea what he'd do in New York and I could tell it was really upsetting him.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you my magic. I'll make you my pool apprentice. Soon you'll be the pinball wizard of pool."
"Except I won't be deaf, dumb and blind."
"Well... Nah I'm just kidding with you. Don't worry, Finn. And don't worry about New York. Everything will be okay." I smiled up at him, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder.
"Thanks, dude. You're pretty cool, you know."

11:47 pm

"That was awesome! Did you hear my California Girls? I killed that song. Katy would be proud. Katy is a funny name. Like, if you say it really fast. Katy, katy, katy, katy, katy..."

I laughed quietly, smoothing down Blaine's messy hair as he rambled on about Katy Perry, a subject he knew more than he'd care to admit. I don't know how many times I'd caught him scrolling down her wikipedia page, or blogging on his katy tumblr. .com. He just about died when I'd found that.

We walked slowly to our car. Slowly, because Blaine was extremely drunk and pretty much unable to move too far on his own without falling over or throwing up. I cursed Blaine for having parked so far from the door. He was so damn heavy.

I'd almost heaved him to the end of the deserted parking lot when I heard them. Their footsteps were heavy, their shadows large and lumbering. There were a dozen of them, and they came at us from all angles. My heart sped up. I whipped my head around, searching frantically for a way out.

It all happened too fast. Before I could even cry out they were there, a fist making contact with my stomach. I cried out as I fell to the group and Blaine was ripped away from me. I looked up in a daze. Dark eyes loomed over me.
"Fucking queers, don't fucking parade around here, flaunting your fagginess. It's disgusting."
"Teach you a fucking lesson."

His breath was hot on my neck. I could spell liquor and cigarettes. To my left, I saw Blaine. His arm stretched out towards me, his eyes wide and desperate. I reached towards him but a heavy black boot stomped on my hand, crushing my fingers. Then the boot made contact with my face. I gasped, shooting pain searing through my body.
"Don't hurt him!" Blaine screamed before getting kicked in the ribs. He clutched his stomach and cried out.

Boots and fists pounded at my every bone again and again. I tried to scream but couldn't find the breath to do so. I could hardly even see. Pain surged through me. It was as if a thousand knives were stabbing me all over. It didn't stop, not for a long time. A dull buzzing of sounds rang through my eyes. "Fag, Queer, Homo", it was all the same.
I couldn't focus, I couldn't think about anything other than the pain and wanting it to stop. I tried to think of a way out but another strike would hit and I'd be consumed with pain again. I could only think of one thing, Blaine. Again and again his name ran through my mind.

And then it was over. The thundering and pounding subsided, a long metal rod fell to the ground next to me. I blinked in a daze, trying to focus on something other than the bright and blurry lights above me.
"Blaine." I gasped out. "Blaine."

I rubbed my eyes, the muscles in my arm aching like crazy. Blood trickled onto my hands. I felt my forehead. It was wet and sticky. I lowered my shaking hands and focused my eyes. Blood. Everywhere. I barely had time to roll onto my stomach before I was throwing up.

I lay on the cool concrete. My head pounded and ached at the same time. My left arm was seared with pain. Moving it was near impossible. My chest stung. Breathing hurt like hell. I gulped in cool breaths greedily, but it wasn't enough. I simply couldn't get enough air.

Then I noticed Blaine. He lay ten feet away from me in a pool of blood. He was on his stomach, his face hidden by his arms. He was eerily still and silent. A steady flow of blood rushed from his head. I forgot my own pain, my own worries. I focused on him, on getting to him. I convinced myself if only I could reach Blaine everything would be okay.

I grimaced, trying to move my legs. I couldn't, they simply would not move. I panicked, trying without to feel something, anything. I managed to wiggle my left toes, but my right leg remained motionless, as if completely separated from my body.

I propped myself up on my arms, blinking back the tears and biting back the screams coming to me as the pain rushed through me. I dragged my weight over to Blaine. It was a slow and painful process. My one arm was supporting my entire body.

"Blaine." I gasped out, shaking him. He didn't move. "Blaine!" I cried louder now. I tried to push him onto his back but I didn't have the strength. I turned his head, his left eye stared up at me. His expression was blank, his eye dead. I felt my body giving up. My muscles were shutting down, my brain was blacking out.

I stared into his empty eyes, and in my dazed mind I thought that it didn't even look like him, it couldn't be him. It wasn't my Blaine. My Blaine was safe and happy. My Blaine was coming for me any moment. I could hear footsteps pounding on the pavement, drawing closer, shouts and cries grew louder. Someone was grabbing my shoulders, turning me over. I gazed up at Blaine, except it wasn't Blaine. It was Santana. Her face was alive with fear. She was saying something, talking to someone. I couldn't hear what she was saying, I couldn't focus. I could only think of one thing.

"Blaine." I mumbled before falling into blackness.

PRESENT DAY
August 19th 2017

"Kurt?"

My eyes snap open and I hastily shove the beer bottle under the couch. Santana walks into the living room, throwing her purse on a chair and slipping out of her heels.
"Ah, that feels so much better." She shrugs out of her tight fitting dress and slips on a pair of sweatpants lying on the back of the couch. I couldn't really say our apartment is all that neat.
She searched through the pile of clothes on the floor and settles on a plain black tank tops. She pauses as she puts in on, staring at me and biting her lip. I stare back.
"You've been drinking." She doesn't ask, she states.
"So have you." I can see in her eyes it's true. She sighs and sits down next to me, reaching under the couch and passing me the bottle I'd shoved there not long ago. I take it wordlessly and take another swig. We sit there in silence, both thinking the same thing, but neither saying it aloud.

Five years. It will be five years on saturday. Five years since the attack. Five years since we lost Blaine. It's enough to make me want to throw myself out the window. But I can't. Santana and I have a deal. We made it in the dead of night years ago. It's complicated, but neither of us has broken it in the slightest.

We're both hurting. I lost Blaine, she lost Brittany. Unlike Blaine, Brittany is still alive. Actually, she's doing quite well. It angers me sometimes, because Santana is hurting so much. Brittany broke her heart, even if she didn't mean to. I still catch Santana stalking Brittany's facebook page, crying over the pictures of Brittany and her new fiance. I say nothing though, because I do the same thing.

Rachel told me it's creepy, to look through Blaine's facebook page. He's been dead so long. But I like it, it makes me feel better when I miss him. I look through the pictures, laugh at his funny captions, study his face. I read through his posts, our old conversations I never deleted. I like to see us then, so happy, so full of life. We were dreamers, always talking about the future. Well the future's here, and it is nothing like we imagined it. How can it be, when one of us is gone?

"Want to watch TV?" Santana asks.
No, I think, And you don't either. But I nod my head because that's what we do. We lie and pretend we're okay. We pretend to be normal, we pretend to be living.

Santana puts on some home decorating show the old Kurt would have loved. I'm not paying attention, I don't really care about anything anymore.

Santana's cracked open her own bottle of beer. She's staring at the TV but I see the emptiness in her eyes, the pain shadowed behind them.

We drink. We let our minds slip further and further from our control. We let our thoughts fog up, our memories subside. We drink to forget. It doesn't work. But still we try.

I know I saw Blaine today. I think about telling Santana, but I don't want to worry her further. Besides, if the cause is alcohol or drugs she'd make me stop taking them. And I can't do that, especially not with the anniversary days away. Besides, secretly, I liked seeing Blaine. And I want to see him again. Even if it isn't real, it's real to me.