Thanksgiving dinner at the Anderson household was set to begin promptly at 3pm, so Blaine knew he had to get there by 2:30. That morning he got dressed, wearing a button-up and sweater and slacks. He stared contemplatively at both a bowtie and a necktie, and then tossed them both aside. He gelled his hair down and left shortly before one.

His mother greeted him at the door, giving him a gentle hug- sincere, but not too tight as to wrinkle clothing. “Come in, dear,” she said. “Jonathan and Emma will be here soon.”

Blaine went with her into the kitchen, where she oversaw a hired cook prepare dinner. Blaine sat at the kitchen table, looking over all the dishes they’d be eating, and chatted with his mother.

Mrs. Anderson asked about school, and he didn’t really mind talking about it. “It feels kind of silly to have days off when finals are so soon,” he said. “Makes for a slightly stressful holiday.”

Mrs. Anderson smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, dear.”

Blaine shrugged. “Yeah. My friend Kurt’s already done with his first term, so he doesn’t have to worry about exams. His school goes by trimester instead of semester, or something.”

“Interesting,” his mother said before taking a sip from her glass of red wine. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned a friend named Kurt before.”

Blaine swallowed, suddenly anxious. “I just met him recently. He lives in Lima.”

“Where does he go to school?”

“New York City,” Blaine said.

Mrs. Anderson began to say something, but was interrupted by the doorbell. She hurried out to the foyer, and Blaine trailed behind her. His Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Emma had arrived. As they all said hello, Mr. Anderson emerged from his study. The whole family went to sit around the dining room table and wait for dinner. Blaine declined his mother’s offer of wine, but everyone else had some, sipping as they caught up with eachother. Blaine didn’t say much, only contributing when expressly asked something. Finally dinner was served so he had something to do with his hands and mouth.

The adults were all discussing candidates for the upcoming election for governor.

“I just don’t like Coleman,” Jonathan was saying. “Have you heard his rants about social programs?”

Mr. Anderson nodded, carefully sawing a piece of his turkey breast. “I know, I know,” he agreed. “The last thing we need now is a liberal in office.”

Emma spoke up, swirling her wineglass around. “He seems to have his heart in the right place.”

Jonathan snorted. “When has heart ever won an election? Besides, he’s a pansy, and he wants to change everything about the state. It’s ridiculous.”

Blaine’s father hummed his agreement, but didn’t say anything. Jonathan went on. “I mean, don’t fix what isn’t broken, that’s what I say. People are happy with the way things are. A bunch of New Agers with picket signs shouldn’t be taken into consideration by a governor.”

Blaine swallowed hard on his mashed potatoes. Of course, they had to talk about politics. He tried to tune out the chatter around him, focusing on the decadent food in front of him instead, his mind straying to what he had to study and then contemplating his conversation with Kurt the previous night…

Until he heard his name.

“How about you, Blaine? How’s that school of yours?”

Blaine looked up at his uncle, and swallowed the stuffing he’d just put in his mouth. “Just fine, thank you.”

“What year are you now, dear?” Emma asked.

“I’m a sophomore,” Blaine said.

“Still hasn’t declared his major,” Blaine’s father grumbled. Blaine clenched his fork in his fist.

“Oh, you’d better get on that,” Emma said. “It’s important to get it all done quickly.”

“What’re you gonna be, Blaine?” Jonathan asked. “What’re you gonna do with your life?”

“Uh,” Blaine said, feeling his face heat up. “I’m not positive, right now, there are a lot of options…”

Emma leaned forward with a cheeky smile. “Gonna be a businessman like your father?”

Jonathan laughed. “He couldn’t make it as a businessman, dear. His face is too sweet. He didn’t inherit his father’s jaw line.”

Mr. Anderson smirked a bit, and Jonathan laughed at his own apparent wit. Blaine seethed, silently, picking at his potatoes but not putting any in his mouth.

“We’re just teasing, Blaine,” Emma said consolingly. Blaine didn’t look at her. “We just want to make sure you do something with your life.”

Jonathan chuckled. “We just don’t want you to turn into one of those damn hippies moaning about recycling and the lack of equality.”

Blaine took a deep breath, looked up, and nodded curtly to his uncle. The conversation moved on, and Blaine forced down a few more bites of food before taking his cloth napkin off his lap and setting it on the table. He was feeling the weight so heavily, it was crushing him, hurting him, making him want to vomit. He stood up, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

“Excuse me,” he said with a polite, controlled smile, and then left the dining room. For all his family knew, he could be going to the bathroom. Instead he headed in the opposite direction, into the foyer, and out the front door, closing it quietly behind him. He walked down the driveway and got into his car.

He sat in the driver’s seat for a moment, staring blankly at nothing. He felt sick, mentally and physically. He had to get away from this house. He had to get away from those people and their words and their thoughts.

He wished he could get away from his own thoughts.

But he knew that the only way to do that was to confront them. To finally acknowledge what he had unconsciously known for days now, perhaps even for weeks. He had to stop ignoring his problems and focusing on control. He had to drop the weight entirely, let it fall down and shatter into a million tiny little pieces and step over them, walking as a free man for the first time in as long as he could remember. 

He turned on the engine and backed out of the driveway, heading towards Lima.

Kurt was seated at the Hummel-Hudson table between Carole and Kylie, Finn’s girlfriend. Kurt actually really liked Kylie- she was funny and smart, and seemed to make Finn genuinely happy. Finn’s relationship with Rachel had always been a constant rollercoaster, full of drama and break-ups and make-ups and hurt feelings and uncertainty. It had been painful for Kurt to see both of them, two people he really cared about, go through so much hurting. But Kylie seemed to be good for Finn. Simple, and honest. And not overtly touchy, which Kurt appreciated.

He was laughing and serving himself more green beans casserole when the doorbell rang. Everyone paused in their conversation.

“Who could that be?” Burt asked. No one had an answer.

“I’ll get it,” Finn said, getting up and walking out of the kitchen. Kurt finished serving himself, turning to Carole to resume their conversation. Before he could say anything, though, Finn’s head popped around the kitchen doorway.

“Kurt,” he said. “It’s for you.”

Utterly confused, Kurt got up and passed by Finn. He headed for the door, which had drifted nearly closed when Finn had abandoned it. Kurt reached for it and opened it all the way, revealing the figure on his front porch.

Kurt’s eyebrows drew together. “Blaine? What are you doing here?”