“What did you guys think?” Finn asked now that they were finally together. “Rachel thought it would be better if instead of talking about homeless people that I use a mediocre-”

“Metaphor, Finn,” she interrupted.

Finn scratched the back of his neck. “Metaphor...right.”

Kurt smiled and looked at the others before responding. “It was great. Very daring of you. Brava.”

Brittany nodded. “I hope that cow is okay, she shouldn’t be living on the moon.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and reached for the door handle. “We should get inside, it’s freezing.”

“Wait!” Santana looked back and forth before she and Brittany entered the restaurant. “Where is Quinn?”

Blaine shrugged. “We got separated right as were were leaving. She’s a smart girl, she will be fine.” He looked down the street, wondering if he should believe his own words. Kurt brought him back to reality by putting his hand on his shoulder and smiling at him. Blaine followed him inside with one final look down the street.

It did not take Quinn long to join them and once she walked through the door, Blaine felt that he was finally able to breath again. His lungs and chest ached from the pressure of holding his breath for so long. She took the vacant seat next to him and squeezed his forearm as she settled in.

“Quinn, honey are you okay? What happened back there?” Santana shouted from one end of the table.

She arched her back and shimmied out of her coat, letting it fall over the top of her chair. “I am fine...I am fine. In fact I am great. I am great because tonight my footage will be used on the 11 o’clock news because the lead story is going to be Finn’s show.”

Finn’s eyebrows shot up until they almost reached his hair line. “My show.” He squeaked.

Quinn nodded and continued. “They bought my footage of the riot so they are going to see the real thing, what actually happened.”

Rachel clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. “Quinn!”

She gave a wide smile in return.

Finn ran around to her side of the table. “Are you serious?” She responded with a nod. Finn’s eyes shot back in forth as they looked across her face. He bent down and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you.” He whispered in her ear.

Quinn blushed violently and dug her face into his shoulder to shield herself from view. “You’re welcome.” She said into the fold of his flannel shirt. Finn pulled back and she instantly missed his warmth and the smell of his cologne.

Rachel was instantly behind him, pulling him by his arm. Quinn was not so sure how she got there that quickly but she could feel the heat of her scorn and decided not to question it any further. “Give her some space Finn.” She proceeded to pull him back to their place at the table and drape her arms around his neck, occasionally looking in Quinn’s direction.

Blaine nudged Quinn in the ribs and pointed towards the other table. She dropped her line of sight from the furious brunette to a small table where Sam and his associates sat. A laugh escaped her lips that grabbed the attention of the rest of their party. Everyone looked in the direction she did and when they noticed Sam, they laughed as well.

“Sam Evans.” Finn called out.

Sam’s head shot up and turned in his direction.

Finn slowly got to his feet. “The enemy of Avenue A!” The rest of the table raised their glasses in salute.

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up as well. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here after what you just caused.” He looked back at his associates and then walked over to their table. “Listen, what happened....that wasn’t my fault.

Kurt laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure!”

Quinn slowly brought her eyes to meet Sam’s. “You were the one that had the cops on stand-by.”

Sam ran his teeth along his bottom lip, pausing to find his words again. “I just didn’t want it to get out of control.”

“I noticed your wife missed the show.” Blaine leaned forward and rested his head in his clasped hands.

Sam looked into his eyes. “Mercedes?” He shifted his weight as if the things he was about to say was difficult to form in his mouth. “There was a death in the family.”

They all looked between themselves. Finn made a face as if they were trespassing on bad territory.

The only voice came from Brittany. “Who died?”

Sam sighed. “Our Akita.”

Blaine, Quinn, and Santana’s eyes grew wide. Blaine and Quinn looked at each other. “Evita!” Santana put her head down on the table, but not before she shot a vicious glance in her friend’s direction.

Sam shook his head. “You make fun, yet I'm the one attempting to do some good. Or do you really want a neighborhood where people piss on your stoop every night?” He maneuvered his way around their table, all seven sets of eyes were focused in his direction. “Bohemia, Bohemia's a fallacy in your head. This is Calcutta.” Straightening his back, he turned his focus on Quinn. He spoke directly at her as if no one else was in the room. “Bohemia is dead.” A smirk crawled across his lips and he swiftly made it back to his table.

As he passed Quinn, she stood up and walked to the head of the table. She raised her hand to demand their attention. “Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes.”

Everyone folded their hands as if they were going to pray and sang in unison. “Dies irae, dies illa.”

“Here she lies.” Quinn spun around in place so that she was facing Sam’s table.

The group stood at their feet and continued their chant. “Kyrie eleison. Yitgadal v'yitkadash.”

She climbed up onto the table and sat on her knees. “No one knew her worth. The late great daughter of Mother Earth.” Quinn let herself fall backwards into the outstretched arms of her friends. They passed her down until she was fully extended. “On these nights when we celebrate the birth.” They rocked her back and forth and she mimicked sucking her thumb. “In that little town of Bethlehem.” Quinn sat up and they placed her on the table where she crossed her legs seductively. She grabbed a glass of wine and held it over her head. “We raise our glass, you bet your ass to...La vie boheme.” She drank the whole glass before setting it down in a triumphant slam. Finn unfastened his belt and pulled his pants down to show his ass to Sam and the table. Rachel slapped it hard before he pulled the pants back up. Blaine laughed and held out his hand for a high five which Finn gladly took.

“La vie boheme.” The group repeated. “La vie boheme.” Each time slightly louder than the next. “La vie boheme.” They slammed their hands on the table. “La vie boheme.” They snapped their fingers and pointed at Sam. He leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. He wanted nothing more that to meld into the wall and disappear, but Quinn would not allow that to happen.

She got to her feet and stood on the table with the rest of the group still chanting La vie boheme around her. “To days of inspiration, playing hooky, making something out of nothing
The need to express, to communicate. To going against the grain, going insane, going mad.” Her arms flailed around her as she emphasized each word.

Her fist clenched, she mimicked having a microphone as she belted the next few lines, still not taking her eyes off of Sam. “To loving tension, no pension, to more than one dimension.” At this point the rest of the group was on their feet and dancing around the table. All manners and social cues gone for the sole sake of giving Sam a piece of their mind. Quinn walked a few steps closer, spreading her arms out in front of her to make sure the focus was still directed towards her. “To starving for attention hating convention, hating pretension. Not to mention of course hating dear old mom and dad.”

The group made a circle around the table and they danced, snapped and chanted the words, “La vie boheme.” It caused them a great deal of attention and a few other patrons at the restaurant who had been at the protest joined them, making the circle grow bigger and bigger. Sam avoided the eyes of his colleagues and trained them on Quinn in a focused glare. His face grew to a bright red out of embarrassment that reached up to the tips of his ears.

“To riding your bike midday past the three piece suits. To fruits, to no absolutes. To Absolut, to choice, to the Village Voice. To any passing fad.”

Quinn walked to the edge of the table so that the tips of her heeled toes barely hung off. Finn came up to her and hugged her around her knees. “To being an us' for once... Instead of a them'!” She jumped off the table and shouted, “La vie boheme.” Which earned her a loud “La vie boheme” in return.

Brittany and Santana stood to the left of the table, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Santana moved her hands down the blonde’s body and gave her ass a firm squeeze. She moved in for a kiss when she heard Sam’s father-in-law cleared his throat. The latina rolled her eyes at him. “Hey mister, she's my sister.” Quinn slapped her ass as she moved towards her seat and they broke apart.

Their waiter sashayed over to the table and held his hands up, attempting to gain their attention.” So that's five miso soup, Four seaweed salad, Three soy burger dinner, Two tofu dog platter and one pasta with meatless balls?” He licked the end of his pen before pointing it at his writing pad, anticipating any extra orders.

Blaine scrunched up his face in disgust. “Ew.”

“What, It tastes the same.” Santana cocked her head to the side and shot him a look that he knew meant to not go any further.

“If you close your eyes.” Kurt patted his arm while stifling a laugh.

“An' thirteen orders of fries. Is that in here?” He scribbled across his pad.

“Wine and beer!” They cheered.

Kurt climbed onto the table with help from Blaine. “To hand crafted beers made in local breweries. “ Brittany looked back at Santana before joining her on the table as well. “To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese.” She crawled between his legs and made her way towards the head of the table. Kurt did a seductive dip before continuing. “To leather, to dildos” His hands flew to his pelvis to emphasis his penis, which caused Blaine to choke on his beer and spray it over the waiter as he walked passed. “...to curry vindaloo. To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou.”

Brittany got to her feet and began to dance with Kurt upon the table. The dance moves were more seductive than the ones that Quinn was doing earlier and Blaine decided that it must be ones that he uses at work. “Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion. Creation, vacation,” Blaine yelled, “mucho masturbation.” Kurt caught his eye and winked.

Santana and Finn danced together and he picked her up by her waist and placed her on the table. She attempted the moves of Brittany and Kurt but instead turned toward Sam. “Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new. To Sontag,” Kurt pulled Blaine up onto the table, “to Sondheim,” Blaine placed his hands on Kurt’s thighs to pull him closer “to anything taboo.” Kurt kissed his cheek and then jumped off the table. He held a hand out to Brittany, who took it, and he helped her down from the table.

Santana threw an arm around Blaine and they bumped hips. “Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage.” Blaine laughed and motioned between them. “Lenny Bruce, Langston Hughes,” She playful pushed him away

Rachel laid across the table and kicked her feet in the air, “to the stage!”

Finn and Quinn shouted together, “To Uta, to Buddha, Pablo Neruda, too.”

Kurt and Quinn stood on their chairs and held hands across the table. They did a little dance where they rolled their shoulders, in turn pulling and pushing the other along with them. “Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow.” They broke hands and made an obscene gesture toward Sam and his table. They continued with gusto. “To blow off auntie Em.”

The room erupted in a loud, “La vie boheme.” As Blaine and Santana did the tango across the table and proceeded to jump off the end, landing right in front of Sam’s table. Brittany cheered and threw her arms around Santana’s neck, pulling her into a messy kiss.

“Sisters?” One of the older men asked.

They glared over at them. “We're close.”

On the table, Kurt was straddling a very surprised Blaine who stared up at him with eyes wide and full of shock. Kurt closed the space between them and kissed him firm on the mouth before popping off and glancing over his shoulder, “Brothers!”

Kurt jumped to his feet and then pulled Blaine up next to him. They all danced around on the table, singing together, “Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens, carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman! German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein, Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana.”

Blaine and Kurt jumped off the table and Quinn and Rachel quickly took their place. “To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy, Vaclav Havel, The Sex Pistols, 8BC. To no shame never playing the fame game.”

Santana sat in one of the old men’s laps and mimicked that she was smoking and blew air into his face. “To marijuana.”

Blaine bent Kurt over the table and stepped behind him with his hands gripping his hips tightly. “To sodomy, it's between god and me.”

The older men at Sam’s table, including his father in law, stood up to leave. Sam begged them to stay, but that only made them walk faster.

Kurt dropped to his knees in front of Blaine and laid his head against his pelvis area. Sam rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a hard sigh before grabbing his coat and leaving as well. “To S&M!”

Quinn raised her hand in the air, “Waiter, waiter, waiter.”

The group tipped their heads back and sang along. “La vie boheme. Waiter!”

Santana hit her hand against the top of the table to get everyone’s attention. Brittany had her arms around her waist and pressed her cheek into her shoulder. “In honor of the death of Bohemia an impromptu salon will commence immediately following dinner.” She threw her arm towards Finn. “Finn Hudson, just back from his spectacular one-night engagement at The Eleventh Street Lot.” He climbed up on a chair and did the robot for everyone to see. “Will perform Native American tribal chants, backwards through his vocoder, while accompanying himself on the electric cello....Which he ain't never studied.”

Blaine stood up on his chair and everyone turned toward him. “And Quinn Fabray will preview her new documentary about her inability to get a lover to hold an erection on the high holy days.” Quinn through a french fry at him and then pushed him off of his chair.

She pointed to Kurt. “And Kurt Hummel, clad only in bubble wrap, will perform his famous lawn chair handcuff dance to the sounds of iced tea being stirred.” Kurt shimmied on the opposite side of the table before erupting into laughter. Quinn then pointed at Blaine. “And Blaine Anderson will attempt to write a bittersweet, evocative song.” He dropped to his knees and swung his hands in front of him to indicate an air guitar. “That doesn't remind us of Musetta's Waltz.” Blaine shot a glare up at her which only made her toss her hair over her shoulder and jump off the chair.

Santana spun Brittany around in a circle. “Brittany Susan Pierce will model the latest fall fashions from Paris while accompanying herself on the 10 gallon plastic pickle tub.”

Brittany perched herself on the edge of the table and held both of her hands out towards her girlfriend. “And Santana will recount her exploits as an anarchist. Including the tale of her successful reprogramming of the M.I.T. virtual reality equipment to self-destruct as it broadcast the words ‘Actual reality, act up, love GAYS!’”

At this point, Blaine had walked away from the group. He busied himself by looking at a set-up of musical instruments on the stage. Kurt noticed him withdrawing from the group and hopped off the bar in which he was sitting. He walked across the room and tapped Blaine on his back. “Excuse me, did I do something wrong? I get invited, then ignored all night long.”

Blaine turned towards him. “I've been trying, I'm not lying. No one's perfect, I've got baggage.” He placed one hand over his heart.

Kurt reached across and covered his hand with his own. “Life's too short, babe, time is flying. I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine.”

Blaine hung his head. “I should tell you....”

Kurt interrupted him. “I've got baggage, too.”

He shook his head. “I should tell you.”
“Baggage.” They said together.

“Wine and beer!” The group yelled from the table. Apparently they were all settling back into their chairs and the food was starting to be dispersed.

Blaine looked into Kurt’s eyes and then took his hands. “I owe you some sort of explanation.” He took one more glance over at their friends before leading Kurt out the back door of the cafe and out into the cold.

The cold air hit them both in the face as they exited the Cafe. They found themselves in the alleyway that was located directly behind the building and it was currently deserted. Blaine plunged his hands into his pockets and stared at the brick wall. He was trying really hard to not look at Kurt. If he looked at him now, he may not have the strength to tell him what he wanted to tell him. Instantly Kurt could pick up on this, Blaine’s body language had changed and he seemed a bit dodgy. All he needed to do was wait for Blaine to come around on his own and hope that it was soon because her was sure that he may just freeze to death in the cold.

“I am scared, Kurt. That is why I was....reluctant.”

“Scared,” He pressed. “Scared of what?”

Blaine toed a rock that was stuck in the icy ground. “Scared to be out in public.”

Kurt repeated the words, but the phrase seemed so foreign on his lips. He could not comprehend. “Scared to go outside?”

He sighed. “Yes, but more like being Out. I am afraid of people knowing that I am gay.”

Kurt laughed. “Oh honey, after that display tonight, they know.”

“That was why I got upset. I haven’t been that comfortable and that out there in a long time.... not since.” Blaine paused as his voice began to waver. “Not since my ex boyfriend was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Kurt gasped.

He just nodded in response. “We were out walking around the park holding hands and we got jumped. He didn’t make it.” Blaine walked a few steps forward, concentrating on the barrel by the wall, the pile of snow along the wall, the lost tennis ball whose neon green fuzz shone brightly through the snow, anything but Kurt.

Taking a deep breath, he continued. “Since then, I have been so afraid. Afraid to be myself thinking that I would be hurt next. I became so afraid, I rarely left my apartment.” Blaine allowed himself to look at Kurt now. “But I hate it. I hate being trapped. I want to be out, I want to be comfortable...I want to be happy.”

Kurt could see the tears that were fighting to fall from his eyes. He kept his lips sealed, allowing Blaine to release everything that he needed to say.

“I wanted to get out of my apartment and go to this show and I wanted to go with you. I want to get to know you.” His eyes fell to Kurt’s feet. “But the more that I am out the more afraid I become. This fear has made me paranoid and I just want it to stop.” His hands went up to his head and tangled up in his gelled locks. He gripped his head tightly as he let the tears fall.

“I can’t tell you that the world is not a scary place and I can not tell you that it will not happen again. I will tell you that if you let your brain take over you are going to drive yourself mad. Locking yourself into your apartment is not going to stop bad things from happening but it will stop you from enjoying your life.”

Blaine sniffled and looked at the other boy.

“I want to get to know you, too. I also want to help you. So please, let me in.”

His lips moved, but no sound came out as if the wind had taken his words away from him. He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve before returning his eyes to Kurt. Overwhelmed with emotion, he just sat there, searching his brain for what to say next. He was weak and vulnerable and had just exposed himself to the guy he liked.

Kurt remained silent, allowing Blaine the time to gather his thoughts and continue. There was nothing at this point that he wanted to say so he focused his attention on the shorter man. Snow flurry fell upon them and sprinkled across his jacket and face yet it did not bother him in the slightest.

Blaine looked into Kurt’s eyes and let their hands fall between them. “I should tell you I'm a disaster. I forget how to begin it-”

Kurt took a step forward. He wanted to touch Blaine, to hold him, to let him know that it was okay, but he held himself back and just let his fingertips touch his elbow. “Let's just make this part go faster...I have yet to be in it.” He sidestepped Blaine and let his fingers run up his arm. “I should tell you...”

Blaine turned with Kurt as he walked a few steps further into the dark alleyway. “I should tell you..”

Pulling his jacket tighter around his body, Kurt repeated the line back to Blaine. “I should tell you..”

Blaine reached over and tightened the knot of his scarf for him. “I should tell you..”

He looked down at Blaine’s hands that were so close to his neck and let out a ragged breath that was visible between them “I should tell I blew the candle out, just to get back in.”

Blaine let his hands slide down Kurt’s scarf to smooth it out against his bulky jacket. He chuckled lightly to himself. “I'd forgotten how to smile until your candle burned my skin.”

Kurt’s face lit up at this comment. “I should tell you..”

Blaine wiped some of the snow flurry from his sleeves. “I should tell you..”

Reaching his hand out, Kurt brushed some from his forehead and cheeks. “I should tell you..”

He caught Kurt’s hand as it left his cheek and intertwined their fingers. Together they sang, “I should tell you. Well, here we go. Now we..”

Kurt looks back to the door of the cafe where they seemed to have wandered away from. “Oh no.”

Blaine cupped his cheek and that brought their eyes back together. “I know... this something is...” He searched for the right words but did not find them. “Here goes.”

Kurt shrugged. “Here goes.”

Blaine looked down at their clasped hand. “Guess so. It's starting to...who knows.”

Smiling, Kurt looked down at their hands as well. “Who knows.”

They walked further down the alleyway together with their clasped hand swinging between them. “Who knows where. Who goes there. Who knows...here goes.” Kurt looked at Blaine through the corner of his eye to catch him looking back. “Trusting desire, starting to learn. Walking through fire without a burn. Clinging...a shoulder, a leap begins. Stinging and older, asleep on pins.”

Kurt stopped them and nodded his head back the direction they came from. “So here we go.
Now we..”

Blaine holds onto his hand tighter. “Oh no.”

Kurt squeezes back. “I know.”

He moves closer to Kurt, their hot breath twirling together in the cold air. Blaine’s voice is softer now. “Oh no.”

Kurt presses his body against Blaine’s side. “Who knows where. Who goes there.”

Blaine pressed his face against Kurt’s temple and they stand like this outside of the Cafe for a few more beats. “Here goes...here goes. Here goes...here goes. Here goes...here goes.”

They both pull back from each other and simultaneously go in for a kiss.