Chapter 8

March 3rd
KURT
3:20 PM
I slam my head against the desk.
I'm in way too deep.
--
BLAINE

I start heading down the hall to Kurt's office, and open the door when I get there, step inside.
Kurt is at his desk, with his head down.
"Kurt?" I ask.
His head shoots up and I see that his eyes are rimmed red. He looks like hell.
"Hi, hi Blaine," he says, stifling a yawn. "I'm so sorry. I didn't sleep at all last night. How are you?"
"I'm good," I answer, shrugging off my jacket and sitting down. "How are you?"
He smiles and walks slowly over to his chair, sits in it. "I'm exhausted. How did Lizzie like Phantom?"
I smile. "She loved it."
"You know my friend Rachel that you met the other day was in that a few years back. She was Meg."
I raise my eyebrows. "Really? I might have seen her. I'll have to check my Playbills."
"Have you seen Phantom more than once?"
I nod, smile. "It's my favorite. I played the Phantom in a community production two years ago."
Kurt yawns again, then shakes his head and smiles at me. "Did Andrew come?"
My heart stops.
I realize I haven't thought about Andrew all day. Or yesterday.
"I...yeah. He did."
Kurt scribbles on his notepad, then looks back up at me. "Blaine," he says, mid-yawn, "I want to try something new with you today. It's...going to be a little difficult."
"I've already done a ton of hard things."
"This is..." he trails off into another yawn, "really different. Will you hear me out?"
I nod.
"Okay," yawn, "we're going to take the subway. To the apartment you used to share with Andrew. When we get there, I want us to go inside and," yawn, "and walk around. You don't have to say anything. You just have to be there."
"I...I don't know if I can...can do that. Go back there."
"I want you to try. Can you try? For me?"
For me.
I nod. "Yes. I can try. For you."
I think I almost hear Kurt gasp softly, but I'm not sure. I shake it off as he stands up and grabs his coat, and I push my arms back through the sleeves of my own.
We head out the door of his office together and Kurt stops at Jeanette's desk. "Jeanette, I'm going somewhere with Blaine and I won't be back. Can you lock up for me tonight?"
Jeanette nods and smiles, "sure," she says, and Kurt thanks her and we step into the elevator, take it down to the lobby of the building.
Then, outside, into the chilly air, the bright sunlight. We step on partially-melted snow on our way to the subway station. There, we get on a train and I tell Kurt when the stop is.
We get up, off the train, climb the stairs, and we're in the light again, staring out at Union Square.
Andrew and I had an apartment in a fairly nice building not too far from NYU, where we met.
We get there and the doorman recognizes me, gives me a sympathetic look and asks me how I'm doing, says he's still sorry about Andrew.
I give him a smile, tell him I'm doing fine. I ask him if I can go up to my old place and he says it's fine, my guest and I can head right up, it's my apartment after all.
We get in the elevator, ride it to the 33rd floor, and get out. Walk down the hall to door number 72B. I reach in my pocket and take out my keys. I never bothered to take the key to this place off my key hook.
With shaking hands, I start to push the key into the lock.
I look at Kurt, my eyes pleading, begging him. I can't do this.
"It's okay, Blaine," he says gently. "You're doing fine."
I nod, gulp, and turn the key. The door opens.
I walk in.
I cannot do this.
I'm two steps inside the foyer and I know that. It all looks exactly the same.
The whiskey glass is still in the sink from when Cooper rescued me. It has mold growing around the edges.
This place...it smells the same. It...smells like Andrew. Our life together, everything we had.
Before I know what's happening I'm on my knees. They're hitting the tile floor, I'm sinking.
I can't...I can't think. I can't breathe. I can't...I can't...
"Blaine."
Kurt's voice behind me. Gentle. Kind.
"Blaine. It's okay if you don't think you can do this."
I can't speak.
"You promised me you would try and you did. I'm proud of you."
I squeeze my eyes shut and two tears roll out.
I turn to look at Kurt, open my mouth to say something, but no words come out.
And then I'm really, truly, sobbing. Gut-wrenching, heart-tearing, throat-ripping sobs.
For Andrew. For what we were. For what we had and what we didn't.
I sob for Kurt, because he's so good and kind and he's helped me so much in the incredibly short time I've known him and I sob because I'm starting to really, really like him, a lot, but Andrew, oh, my Andrew, my husband. I loved him, I loved him so fucking much but I think I could love Kurt someday too.
And then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I don't know how long ago it was that Kurt sat down next to me and put his arm around me, but I look at him, at his face, his eyes, and I sob harder and he wraps both arms around me, pulls me to him. I rest my head against his chest and sob, sob, sob, for all those reasons. I'm saying his name while I cry, Kurt's name. And I'm saying Andrew's name. Andrew. Kurt. Kurt. Andrew. And then more horrible, wordless sobbing. I'm gasping for air that isn't there to fill my lungs and Kurt is stroking my hair, running his fingers through the curls and it feels so good, and I cry even harder.
I don't really know when I notice Kurt's shoulders shaking, hear his quiet sobs mixed with my loud ones, but when I do, it only increases my sobbing, makes it worse, louder, harder.
I'm still not sure how long Kurt and I sat like that, on the floor of my old apartment, crying together, him holding me, me leaning against him, grasping his shirt. But it's a long time.
--
KURT
I have cried myself out.
Or so I think, because when I open the door of my house after walking Blaine to the train station, I immediately head for my bedroom and start crying more.
I am in love with Blaine Anderson.
That's the thought that was running through my head on a constant loop the entire time I held that beautiful, wonderful, broken man in my arms.
It's why I cried with him. I cried with him and I cried for him and I held him, tight, and ran my fingers through his soft, dark curls.
It happened so much faster than I had expected it to, intended for it to. Falling in love with Blaine, I mean. It seems like seconds ago that it was just a crush.
Now...I just want to be near him. I want him, all of him, whatever he is, at any moment. I want to hold him, I want to be held by him. I want to kiss him, everywhere. I want to wake up next to him, to see him every day. I want to have him all to myself for hours at a time, to tell him all the things I love about him. I want to fall apart with him, I want to put him back together.
Tears pour out and I pull the quilt up over my head. My heart hurts. It aches.
I am in love with Blaine Anderson.
Again, the realization hits me hard in the chest, in the skull, everywhere, my whole body, and I let out a loud sob.
My phone rings.
Reluctantly, I pick it up and hear Rachel's voice on the other line.
"Kurt, I got it! I got the part! I'm Fanny, I'm Fanny Brice!" she's saying, excited.
"That's," sniff, "that's amazing Rach,"
"Kurt?" her voice changes. "Are you okay? Are you crying, Kurt?"
"No, Rachel, don't worry about me, I'm-"
"I'm coming over."
She hangs up with that and I place my phone back on the bedside table.
In ten minutes, I hear a key in the front door, the knob turning, hear Rachel's footsteps click-click-click-ing up the stairs, down the hall, into my room.
She sits down on the edge of my bed and kicks her shoes off, shrugs away her coat, and lies down next to me.
"Hey," she says quietly.
I smile sadly at her. I must look terrible. "Hey."
Rachel reaches out and wraps an arm around me. "You know, maybe two years ago I would have asked if this was about Ben. But I know better now."
I let out a soft sob. "I guess you do, don't you?"
She nods. "This is about Blaine. Isn't it?"
I nod back, unable to form words.
"You love him."
Again, I nod.
"A lot."
I let out another sob and bury my face in the pillow. "So fucking much, Rachel," I whisper.
“Oh, Kurt,” she sighs, her voice breaking.
“I’m so stupid.” I mutter into my pillow.
“Falling in love with someone doesn’t make you stupid, Kurt. It makes you human.”
I look up at Rachel and shake my head. “Falling in love with Blaine makes me stupid. I could have…I could have picked anyone else, I-”
“You don’t always get a say in who you fall in love with. Sometimes it just happens.”
“But that’s the thing, Rachel,” I reply, my tone frantic and desperate. “I don’t deserve to fall in love with anyone at all. And now…I’ve really fucked up, Rachel. I don’t deserve anyone and I especially don’t deserve him.”
“Stop, stop it right now,” she says. “That’s not. True. I know it’s not and you know it’s not and so many people know it’s not. You do deserve someone, and you do deserve Blaine.”
“No, I-I don’t. I don’t, Rachel, I…” I collapse back into the covers, sobs ripping through my entire body.
Without a word, Rachel pulls me toward her and wraps both her arms around me.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I wake up, she's still there, sleeping too.