He looked up at her. “Are you sure?”

She tied her scarf around her neck and wore a weary expression across her face. “Yes, it is not like you want to come down anyway. Just...stay here. Someone needs to stay here for Santana anyway. I am worried about her.”

Blaine took this invitation and sat back down on the couch. “Will do.”

Quinn kissed his forehead. “I should not take long. If you need anything, call me.”

Blaine nodded and reached for his guitar that laid on the coffee table.

She stopped before exiting the door and turned around to face him one last time. “You know, the real world isn’t that scary. You need to get out every once in awhile. Fresh air would be good for you.”

He waved his hand to show that he was not interested in what she had to say and she backed out of the door. As soon as she was gone, he tossed his guitar onto the couch next to him and stared up at the ceiling. He let out a deep groan and then punched the arm rest of the chair. The soft cushion absorbed the blow, leaving Blaine with little satisfaction. He jumped to his feet and went to their kitchen and looked in the refrigerator for a bottle of water, only to find it empty besides a few condiments, salad dressing and an old package of cheese. Blaine slammed the door shut and ran his fingers in his hair, gripping his fingers along the curly tendrils and pulling until he felt his scalp burn from the tugging.

Blaine felt trapped.

Stuck inside this city, stuck inside this apartment, and stuck inside his head. This was not what he had planned for his life, this was not part of his big dream. Casually he looks over at his guitar that laid across the couch, that was supposed to be his ticket to fame. Music was supposed to be his way to the top yet he has never felt more at the bottom than in this moment.

Blaine always had dreams of being in a band and being a famous musician. For a short time, he had that. He had the band, he was playing shows every few nights and people were starting to know who he was. With the new fame, Blaine had new opportunities as well. One of his band mates exposed him to drugs. Originally he had sworn up and down to never touch the stuff, but one night after a show, he decided to give it a try. Never knowing that he would get hooked on it.

He looked down at his arms at the scars around his inner elbow, the only remaining memories from that time. Scars that were made from all of the needles that he pierced his skin with, needles that were filled with liquid that he was not sure what it was most the time. All he knew was that it made him feel good, it made him feel alive and most of all, it made him feel like he made it.He was always so careful. He ran his finger over a particularly deep needle scar.

To make it, he needed to write a song. Blaine knew that he needed to leave his mark in the music world just as the needles made marks on him. He gathered his guitar back up again and walked out onto the balcony. Everyone had gone back to their daily routine and were inside their apartments enjoying the holiday. Blaine leaned against the side railing and positioned his guitar to play. The wood of the frame and the cold metal strings that would hurt his fingers if he played for too long, spoke to him and he began to play. The words fell out of him effortlessly.

Blaine looked over the side to see Quinn and Sam talking by his car. She looked worked up and was waving her hands around to give her words extra emphasis. He, however, remained stern with his arms crossed over his chest. Deep down, Blaine knew that Sam was not going to budge. Ever since he married Mercedes, he was in-cahoots with her father and anything he wanted, he followed through on.

Memories began to flood into his consciousness. He remembered playing with his band at a local theater and the crowd going wild. Blaine knew how to play multiple instruments but he was also a talented singer and performer. It was no surprise that he was the lead singer and lead guitarist.The stage is where he felt at home and came to life. It took awhile for their band to build their reputation, but before long they were being booked for shows all over the city.

That was where he met him, his show. That night will forever be etched into his mind. They were playing at a bar where they frequently visited and they were in the middle of their set when he noticed him. He was gorgeous. Blaine spotted him near the front of the stage when he was in the middle of a guitar solo. He was watching him meticulously, memorizing every chord and hand placement that he made. By the end of his set, the mysterious man had his eyes on Blaine and he returned the look, occasionally even making eye contact.

After the set, Blaine bought him a drink and they sat at the bar. He learned that his name was Wyatt and that he was a barista. They talked for the better half of two hours before he invited the man home. He fell for him fast. After never really being in a real relationship, Blaine fell head over heels for him. They spent all of their free time together, usually spent intertwined in each others arms. He never felt so happy.

Kurt could hear a voice from outside his apartment and followed it. He discovered that the voice was actually coming from upstairs. There in front of his eyes was his upstairs neighbor, perched on the side of his fire escape with a guitar in his arms. Clutching his cup of tea, Kurt climbed out onto his own fire escape to get a better look. Blaine’s voice was unlike any he had heard before, it was beautiful. He stretched his legs out and held his tea under his chin to feel the steam on his face. Kurt knew he was eavesdropping but he could not help himself, his voice was just too good to ignore.

A habit that they both had in common was their drug use. They would shoot up together after shows. Wyatt used more heavily then Blaine and would talk him into using more often. One night they got high in a park and Wyatt got frisky. Blaine was used to their hot make out sessions that usually led to sex whenever they were high, but this time was different. Everything seemed hotter and Blaine chocked it up to the fact that they were in the middle of a park and anyone could see them. They shared lazy kisses beneath a tree before Blaine stood up and helped Wyatt to his feet. Wrapping their arms around each other they steadied themselves and kissed a few more times.There was no way to know that they were being watched. As they stumbled through the park on their way back home, a group of men jumped them. They hit them from behind so they had no idea they were even coming.

Blaine woke up to bright lights above his head. He looked around, unaware of where he was, only to find himself surrounded by people he did not know. He was bandaged up and his body hurt all over. Quinn sat at the side of his bed, her eyes big, red and puffy. She was obviously crying and gasped when she saw him move. Blaine tried to talk but nothing came out and she kissed his forehead like she always would before leaving. He felt scared, he had no idea what had gotten him there. Quinn had to retell the story to him, tell him how three men jumped him and Wyatt in the park. How they broke three of his ribs and fractured his leg. How they killed Wyatt. She threw herself on top of Blaine as he cried until he felt he could not cry any more. He was gone, his boyfriend, his first love, was gone.

Blaine set the guitar down. As much as he wanted to listen to what Quinn had said and get out of the apartment, he was too scared. The thought of getting attacked again was thick in his mind and just the mere thought of it would send him into a panic attack. He was safe here. No one would judge him here, no one could hurt him here, no one can kill him here. He bit his lip because internally he knew how crazy he sounded but he could not help it. He was scared.

He looked down to see Quinn and Sam still talking in the street. Their positions have changed because now Sam was talking animatedly while Quinn held a stern look about her. Blaine knew that look all too well. She was pissed. This was the stance she made when she was really upset. Her lips were pursed and her brow was furrowed. Blaine enjoyed seeing her give that stance to someone other than himself. Convinced he had his fill of fresh air, he got to his feet and stretched his arms above his head.

Something caught his eye and he turned around only to see his downstairs neighbor staring up at him while clutching a cup of tea.

“Hi.”

Blaine’s eyes darted back and forth before resting back on him. “Hello. Umm, how long were you sitting there?” Suddenly he felt self conscious and gripped the neck of his guitar.

Kurt blew the steam off the top of his cup. “Long enough to enjoy your song.”

“Y-You liked it?”

He nodded. “Original piece?”

Blaine used his free hand to scratch the back of his head, a nervous habit he had recently picked up. “Yeah... just a little something I have been working on.”

“It is good. Do you write a lot of songs?” Kurt crossed his legs at his ankles.

“Used to, but slowly starting to pick up the habit again.”

“It is a good habit.” Kurt took a long sip. “You should keep it up.”

Blaine could feel his cheeks burn from how bad he was blushing. He could barely squeak out, “Thank you.”

Kurt waved one hand. “Oh no, don’t mention it. I was the one eavesdropping after all.”

Blaine chuckled. “Blaine, my name is Blaine.”

“Kurt, pleasure.”

“Are you new to the building?”

“Yes in fact, I have not even fully stocked the place up. Would you happen to have some matches? I would love to light some of my candles.”

Blaine looked into the open window into his apartment. “I am pretty sure.”

“Great! I will be right up.” Kurt pushed off the wall and onto his feet before Blaine could say another word.

He bit his lip, Kurt was going to be the first company he has had in a while. Panic rose up in his chest. “He is just getting some matches, not a big deal.” Blaine said to himself while he took a few deep breathes. Ducking his head, he entered back into his apartment, shutting the window behind him. It was not long before there was a knock on the door.

Kurt stood on the other side, leaning against the door frame. In one hand he held a white tapered candle stick. “Hello again.”

Blaine could not help but notice how unique Kurt’s voice was. The pitch was higher but it was entrancing. “Hello yourself.”

He adjusted his stance, placing one hand on his hip. “Well, are you going to let me in or what?”

“Uh, yeah come on in.” He moved to the side and stretched out his arm to indicate that Kurt could enter.

He smiled and that was when Blaine noticed his eyes, his bright blue eyes. In the back of his mind, he felt like he had seen these eyes before.

“Did you find those matches?” Kurt asked while he looked around the apartment.

“Matches, right.” Blaine made his way over to the kitchen and searched the drawers for the box of matches. He found them shoved between an old flashlight and a box of batteries. ”Here ya go.”

Kurt wrapped his arms over his body on the opposite side of the room. His body shivered but he tried to hide it.

“Are you okay, you are shivering.”

Kurt walked toward him. “I am fine. They turned off my heat and I am exhausted from work today, That is all.”

Blaine just nodded in response. There were no lights on in the apartment because they could not afford electricity. The only light in the small apartment was the moon streaming in through the windows. It made Kurt’s eyes even more dazzling and made his skin appear soft and smooth.

“Would you light my candle?”

He broke his gaze and looked down at the small match box in his hands. There was only a few left in the box. When his eyes finally met back with Kurt’s, he was surprised to see him smirking. The man was beautiful. Blaine could not take his eyes off of him.

“What are you staring at?”

Heat rushed to his cheeks.” Umm...Nothing. Nothing.” He was sputtering. “You look familiar.”

Kurt turned to walk towards the couch, but lost his balance and stumbled a bit.

Blaine rushed to his side and grabbed his arm. “Can you make it?”

He laughed and patted Blaine’s hands on his arm. “I just haven't eaten much today and the room keeps spinning.” Blaine let go of him and he sat down and patted the cushion next to him. “Anyways, what is your story?” He looked up at him with dazzling eyes and a wide smile.

It was Blaine’s turn to laugh.

“What?” He gave him a questionable look, his smile faulting.

“Nothing. You just reminded me of someone.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and pulled Blaine down onto the couch next to him. “I get that a lot. Who is he?” He flipped Blaine’s hand over and ran his fingers over his callouses. “Or she, I won’t judge.”

Blaine tried pulling his hand back but Kurt held onto it tight. “Intrusive much?”

Kurt ran his thumb over a rough callous. “Just checking. See if they are worthy of a comparison.”

He felt uncomfortable and tried to move himself away from Kurt but he kept his grip on him. ”You wouldn’t know him.”

Kurt licked his lips and looked up at him through his long eyelashes. “Try me.”

“He died, his name was Wyatt.”

“Sorry about your friend.” Kurt dropped his hand and picked his candle back up. “Would you light my candle now?”

Blaine fumbled with the matchbox that he held in his other hand. He pulled out a match, ran it along the side until it lit and then held it against the wick until it caught. Kurt smiled as he saw the flame grow on his candle. His eyes followed the wax as it ran down the side and burnt his fingertips.

“Ouch.” He put his fingers into his mouth.

“Oh no....the wax, are you okay?”

Kurt gave him a sultry look. “I like it..”
Blaine’s breath hitched. Kurt was flirting with him and he suddenly had no idea what to do. His eyes darted back and forth. “Well, umm, have a good night. Let me know if you need anything else.” He led Kurt towards the door.

Kurt resisted and when Blaine persisted, he blew out the candle and turned around to face him with his best pout on.

“It blew out?”

Kurt nodded. He walked away from Blaine in the direction of the kitchen. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as he walked in the hopes that he would stare.

Blaine was trying really hard not to stare too long at Kurt. He was really attractive but he did not want to give him the wrong idea. A relationship was the last thing that he wanted right now. Instead he followed Kurt into the kitchen and lit his candle. “That should do it.”

Kurt smiled and used his free hand to dig into his back pocket. Suddenly his face fell and he whipped around in a circle.

“Did it blow out again?”

Kurt dropped to his knees and crawled along the floor. “No, I think that I dropped my stash”

Realization struck Blaine. He decided to change the subject as he helped search the apartment. “You know, I swear I have seen you before. That is when I used to leave this apartment.” He pointed to the candle in Kurt’s hand. “Your candle's out.”

Kurt was not paying attention. He groaned loudly as he laid with on ear to the floor to look under the couch. “I had it when I walked in the door. It was pure. It must be on the floor.”

Blaine came to his aid and picked up an end of the couch to help him look.

Kurt looked up at him and smiled before getting back on his knees. He moved on and bent his body forward so it touched the ground and stuck his ass up. “They say I have the best ass. What do you think?”

Blaine could not help but look. It was in his face after all. “Umm what?”

He smiled. “You're staring at my ass again.”

Blushing, Blaine turned away from Kurt. “ Erm... uhhh. You do have a nice....umm.” Kurt bent over on his kitchen floor has put him at a loss of words. He decided to continue his search on the opposite side of the apartment to avoid any further awkwardness. “You still look familiar to me.”
Kurt deadpanned. “I know... like your dead boyfriend.”

He shook his head. “ No...I am sure I have seen you somewhere else.”

“Do you go to the Cat Scratch Club? I work there as a dancer.” Kurt put his hands in his hair, clearly getting frustrated.

“Yes!” Now he remembered. He had gone there with his boyfriend a few times. There was only one dancer he liked and now he was crawling around his apartment. “I have seen you a few times. They used to tie you up didn’t they?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It's a living. Now will you help me? I need to find it.”

“I am looking, I am looking.” Blaine slid on his knees over by the front door. “I guess I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs.”

“Not helpful curly.”

He got up and moved next to Kurt but instead of searching he just watched him. “You know.... you should forget about that stuff. It is not good for you.”

“Okay Dad. Spare me on the lecture.”

He shook his head. “I used to be into that stuff and I would shiver just like you are.”

“I have no heat, I told you that already.”

“I used to sweat.”

“I must have a cold.”

Blaine laughed. “I see right through your excuses. Didn’t you hear me before? I used to be a junkie.”

“I am not a junkie, I just like to feel good every once in a while. That is not a crime.” Kurt bit his lip. “Seriously... is your apartment a black hole or something? I just had it.”

That was when he spotted it. There was a small bag under the island in the kitchen. “Here it, umm...”

Kurt’s head shot up. “Did you find it?!”

Blaine shoved it into his back pocket. “Nope, just found some trash. False alarm.”
The dancer cocked his eyebrow. “You know, we could light my candle.” His voice had dropped an octave and his eyes looked dark.

The musician took a step back. “I am out of matches. Sorry.”

Kurt got up and wiped his knees off. “Oh well.”

Blaine moved to the window and looked out at the night sky. Within a few moments, Kurt came up and wrapped his arms around him from behind. He stiffened his body at the touch.

“Turn around and dance with me.”

“Dance?”

Kurt put his hand on Blaine’s waist and took his other hand into his own. They did the waltz around the living room. He smiled like an idiot as Kurt led him.

“Kurt...” Blaine liked the way that name sounded in his mouth.

He moved his hand into Blaine’s back pocket and found his stash. With a quick squeeze he moved the baggy into his palm and removed his hand. Blaine shuttered at the touch and when Kurt withdrew his hands from him, he immediately missed it. Kurt stepped away from him and waved the little bag in the air.

“See you around sugar.”

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