I’m in a very unfamiliar apartment. The walls are painted an off white, the one across from me being the accent in a deep shade of burgundy. I recognize a few of the pictures hanging on the walls; Burt and Katherine and a young Kurt, Burt and Carole, Finn and his family, one of the New Directions. I can’t make out the one furthest away from me where it sits up on the mantle above the fireplace though. I must have forgotten to put my contacts in. God knows I have no idea where my glasses are. I try to get up from my place on the couch but I can’t. For some reason, my legs refuse to budge. I begin to panic. Just as I’m about to yell out for Kurt, he appears in the hallway that I assume leads to our bedroom. He’s in the middle of a phone call; the expression he’s wearing unreadable.

“Thank you so much for the opportunity, but I’m going to have to decline your offer.”

I can tell by the way his shoulders are slumped that he’s feeling distressed. He keeps running his hand through his hair, something he only does when he’s seriously stressed out. What opportunity couldn’t he take? That’s not the Kurt I know. The Kurt I know jumps at every opportunity thrown his way. If anything, he usually creates opportunities for himself, too impatient to wait for someone to realize that’s he’s exactly what they’re looking for. Brilliant enough to know that he’s perfect for whatever he has his sights set on.

“Yes sir. I understand that this is the opportunity of a lifetime. Growing up, all I ever dreamed about was originating my own role on Broadway, but things have changed now. There are personal reasons that are preventing me from being able to take this chance, but either way, I’m so grateful that you thought of me in the first place.”

What does he mean – he couldn’t be talking about – no. He’s not talking ab–about me. No. Why – no. He shouldn’t be held back by me or this – this stupid fucking disease. Why does my health determine what he can and cannot do? Fuck. Why did he have to fall in love with me? Why’d he have to stop me on that fucking staircase? Why did I have to kiss him and ruin his goddamn life? Why did I drag Kurt, beautiful, sweet, perfect, Kurt into this mess? Why? Just fucking why?

“No. It’s not bad. It’s – my husband and I, we’re adopting our second child.”

Fuck this stupid dis – wait what? We’re what? We never discussed that. What is he talking about? The front door closes with a soft click and – what the fuck? Kurt! Turn around. There’s a man coming up behind you and – why is this guy wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist? Why is he – oh god. Why is he kissing Kurt’s neck? What’s going on? Why – why isn’t Kurt stopping him?

“Mr. Wilkinson, I’m so sorry, but my husband, Alex, just got home from work, and we have details about the adoption to still go over. I know that opportunities like this don’t come around very often, but my family is very important to me and will always come first. I know, sir. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Hu-husband? What the – husband? That’s – that guy is most certainly not me. I’ve never known Kurt to be attracted to men that look like this other guy. He’s got maybe 4 inches on Kurt, with sandy blond hair and green eyes that remind me of the grass in Central Park on the first day of spring. The way he’s nuzzling his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck makes bile begin to rise in my throat. I have to look away as Kurt turns around in the other man’s arms because the sight of them kissing is making my stomach churn even more. I squeeze my eyes shut as things become more heated between them. No. Th-this can’t be happening. I’m Kurt’s husband. Not this– not Alex. I don’t understand what’s going on. My eyes snap open at a particularly loud moan.

Alex has Kurt pinned between him and the wall opposite of where I’m sitting. They’re rutting against each other like a couple of teenagers, clearly not concerned about their noise level as breathy moans escape both of them. Their hips slot together perfectly and Alex begins sucking a rapidly purpling mark onto Kurt’s neck where his collarbone turns into shoulder. It elicits the most delicious sound from Kurt’s mouth, a sound that, until now, I had been the only one to hear. I’m trying my best to yell out. This needs to stop. I’m going to throw up. I can’t take this. I can’t take seeing him with another man. Something drips onto my hands where I’m wringing them in my lap. I reach up and my face is wet. I’m crying. When did that happen? I take a deep breath and open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. I try again, still nothing. I’m getting frustrated and fresh tears begin to fall as I will sound to come out of my mouth. All that comes out is an undignified squawk. That seems to do the trick because Kurt’s head snaps up and his eyes lock with mine.

An intense wooshing sound fills my ears and the sensation of falling overcomes my entire body. Everything drops away except for us. Suddenly, there’s no unfamiliar apartment, no more Alex. It’s just Kurt and I in the hallways of McKinley. He’s looking at me like a stranger. As I quirk an eyebrow in his direction, the bell sounds overhead and suddenly hundreds of students bustle in the 20 feet that separates us. I’m stuck on the spot, whether out of fear of reaching out for him or for the fact that my legs seem to not work again, I don’t know. I lift my hand to wave at him, and something in his eyes darkens, his stature becoming stiff as he straightens up and his shoulders seem to broaden. He crosses the hallway in a few strides and shoves me hard into the row of lockers I’m standing near.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Anderson.”

What the actual fuck?

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“What’d you say to me, fag?”

I look up and it’s no longer Kurt that has me pinned by my throat against the lockers, but one of my tormentors from my old high school. I think his name is Jared. I can’t remember. I turn my head as much as I can from side to side as I look for Kurt but I can’t see anything past Jared’s face where he’s snarling at me. Suddenly, his face becomes etched with concern.

“Blaine?”

I stare at him, confused as he releases his hold on my throat and begins to shake my shoulders lightly.

“Blainey, wake up.”

Why does he sound look Cooper? What the –

Blaine wakes with a start and immediately shields his eyes from the harsh florescent lights that illuminate the bedroom. Cooper’s sitting at the edge of the bed near his head and is gently brushing the curls off of his forehead.

“Hiya, Squirt. How ya feelin’?”

“I – where’s Kurt?”

His heart is hammering in his chest. No amount of deep breaths could help him catch his breath. Blaine’s still lying down as Cooper offers him a hand and helps him up. As soon as he has his feet planted on the hardwood floor, Blaine bolts from the bedroom and finds Kurt sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He approaches Kurt slowly as he hears him sniffling. When Blaine sees a tear fall from Kurt’s cheek and onto the carpet, he rushes to Kurt’s side and envelops him in a bone crushing embrace.