We Aren't Who We Were

Chapter 14

"Kurt?" Blaine mumbled as he rolled over on the bed, his arm reaching over to the other side of him, and feeling around, his eyes half open as the morning New York sunlight began to stream in through the windows.

"Kurt? Babe? Its morning, we fell asleep, you should—Kurt?" Blaine sat up, and glanced around the room.

Last night felt like a blur—he and Kurt argued…and then he and Kurt…Blaine lifted the covers and looked down at his body—yes, that definitely happened—Blaine had the marks on his chest, and most likely his neck, to prove it. Blaine rolled out of bed, stretching as the soreness began kicking in.

"Kurt?" Blaine yelled again, his voice echoing throughout the small loft.

Kurt never left in the morning without telling him—it was an agreement they'd decided on since the beginning. If there was ever going to be sleepovers, neither one of them was allowed to sneak off in the morning without at least saying goodbye.

Blaine glanced around the room—Kurt's clothes were gone.

He wouldn't, Blaine thought to himself as he looked around…He can't.

Blaine shuffled through the loft hesitantly, hoping to catch Kurt applying moisturizer in the bathroom, or flipping pancakes in the kitchen. Maybe he was taking a peak at his art studio, or watching TV in the living room.

Blaine stood in the middle of his loft.

He left.

Blaine scrambled to his bedroom, running up to his nightstand to look for his cell phone. No new messages and no missed calls.

Blaine dialed the phone number he'd memorized by heart since the first day he'd gotten it.

Directly to voicemail.

As Blaine hung up the phone, tossing it angrily onto the bed, his eye caught onto an old piece of paper—and old sketch of his—littered on the nightstand beside where his phone once sat.

Blaine picked it up hesitantly, slowly turning the paper over to see familiar writing scrawled on the back.

Blaine's breath hitched as he read it.

I'm so sorry, Blaine.

But, I could never say goodbye to you.

Blaine could feel his eyes starting to sting as the realization of those words began to sink in. What did this—what did this mean? Blaine's hands began to tremble as he stared at the piece of paper. Kurt…chose Josh.

He wouldn't…he couldn't—not after last night…

Blaine thought back to the night before. The frantic look in Kurt's eyes—the way he kissed him, the way he touched him, everything.

Blaine's heart began to race.

The way he kissed him. The way he touched him. Blaine's throat began to close up, his eyes welling up with tears—Kurt thought it was the last time.

Blaine remembered the misty look in Kurt's eyes all night, the desperate need Kurt was expelling all night. He was doing because he'd already made a decision, he knew the whole time…and Blaine had just, he just went along with it.

Blaine clutched the paper in his hand. He could feel his entire body beginning to tremble, and a few stray tears roll down his cheeks.

A half hour later Blaine was standing in front of Kurt's apartment door, whatever resolve he had left shattered.

"KURT!" Blaine screamed, pounding on the door, "KURT OPEN THE DOOR!" Blaine cried desperately, slamming his fists against the double doors of the Manhattan penthouse.

"KURT!" he yelled over and over until his voice was hoarse.

Blaine could feel his face beginning to flush, completely overwhelmed with emotion as he pounded, his fists beginning to hurt as they struck the hard surface. "KURT!"

After a few more minutes of screaming, Blaine was about to turn and give up, his energy beginning to give out. Blaine leaned his head against the door, his fists still attempting to pound on the door, until finally his hands slide down the door in defeat—when suddenly the door swung open.

Blaine stepped back quickly, his head snapping up in a panic.

A tall chestnut haired man opened the door, leaning against the doorframe, looking incredibly exhausted.

"You must be...you must be Blaine," He said with a sigh.

Blaine's mouth fell open, completely taken aback by the tall, handsome man standing at the doorway.

"I—I um..."

Josh raised an eyebrow, looking Blaine up and down. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly. "Huh…I imagined you…taller."

Blaine was about to protest, before realizing who he standing before and closed his mouth. This big guy knew his name. He knew his name. Which means…he knew who he was. The. Big. Guy. Knew. Who. He. Was.

Blaine turned on his heel, and headed back towards the elevator, his throat suddenly dry, and his face a few shades paler. What the fuck happened last night?

"Hey! Blaine!" The guy at the doorway called out. Blaine froze at the sound of his name. Why did he have to say his name like that?

Blaine turned around, taking a shaky breath as he stared back down to Kurt's door.

The man rolled his eyes and gestured for him to come in.

Blaine hesitantly walked back to the door to where the man had already disappeared behind, and nervously stepped in, closing the door behind him.

Blaine had been at Kurt's a few times—never in the day time—but he'd been there. It looked like a god damn palace mixed with a presidential hotel suite. Everything was so pristine, and perfect—like you couldn't touch anything. Blaine could never imagine being comfortable in a place like this, let alone live here. Blaine followed the man through the penthouse.

"Sit down." The dark haired man said coldly, ushering Blaine to a small dining room table, and pulling out a chair, and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Blaine pulled up a chair across the stranger, glancing around the empty apartment. "Where—where's Ku—" Blaine began.

"I'm Josh Peterson." The man cut off.

No shit, Blaine thought to himself.

"What are you doing here?" Josh asked, his voice soft, but threatening.

Blaine was confused. "You're the one who told me to come in—"

Josh scoffed, "Wow, okay. No, that's not what I meant. I meant why did you come here in the first place?"

Blaine blinked awkwardly, his eyebrows knitting together. What the fuck was this guy's problem? Josh already knew his name, and he heard him shouting for Kurt when he pounded on the god damn door…did he honestly not know what the hell he was here for? Did he have to spell it out for him?

Josh rolled his eyes, and threw an annoyed wave in Blaine's direction, and stood up from his seat. "Never mind—I know all I needed to know."

Blaine's eyes narrowed and balled up his fists under the table. This guy was insane! "Where is Kurt?" Blaine asked again, his voice rising as he watched Josh pace back and forth, completely ignoring his presence.

Josh stopped his pacing, and turned his gaze to Blaine. "Kurt?" Josh's eyes fell to the floor "Kurt's gone...he left," he said simply, an underlying tone of bitterness beneath his words.

Blaine stood up from his chair abruptly, his chair sliding out loudly, as it grinded against the marble tiles of the floor.

"What?" Blaine choked out, matching Josh's intense glare.

Josh sighed, his fingers pressed against his forehead, "Yeah, which is why I want to know why you are here."

Blaine tilted his head, waiting for Josh to continue.

"You're Blaine. You're the guy he loved—the guy he's been…," Josh, turned away for a moment, "The guy he's been cheating on me with, am I right?" Josh finished, his voice cracking.

Blaine stared down at the tile. He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the note folded up inside. "I—I don't understand." He stuttered, not knowing what to say. Kurt choseJosh didn't he? What was this guy going on about?

Josh looked at Blaine with an incredulous expression, before shaking his head and began pacing again. "Look, I don't know what the fuck happened between you two last night, and I don't think I want to. I thought after—after what happened he'd gone and found you or something."

Okay, Blaine was beyond confused.

"What do you mean? What happened last night? I don't—" Blaine began, his eyebrows knitting together, trying to process what Josh was telling him.

Josh sighed, "I don't know where he is okay? I don't know where he went, I don't know anything…and I'm surprised you don't either."

Josh seemed to calm down a bit, raking his fingers through his hair, and ushering Blaine to sit down.

Blaine hesitantly sat back down, feeling more puzzled about this whole situation than ever. If Kurt wasn't here, and Kurt wasn't at his place, and Josh didn't know where Kurt was, but Josh knew about him, and Josh knew about him and Kurt…and Josh wasn't trying to kill him right now—What the hell was going on?

Josh took a deep breath, and looked across the table to Blaine, his face expressionless. "Look, I don't like you. Actually, I kind of fucking hate you—a lot. But you and I are kind of in the same boat here." Josh sighed, "But…seeing as you don't know anymore than I…I guess you deserve to know this."

Blaine's mouth fell open.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this but—I was expecting his to be…with you."

"What are you—?" Blaine began to question.

"Look, after he went to see you last night Kurt…" Josh began, as he started explaining to Blaine what happened last night.

The night prior…

"Did you get everything? The tickets? Josh?" Kurt asked frantically as he burst through the penthouse front door, looking around hurriedly.

The penthouse was dark, and quiet. Kurt spotted Josh sitting alone on the living room sofa. A single lamp was lit, barely illuminating the room and casting a dim shadow against Josh's face.

"No. No I didn't." Josh replied darkly, staring out the big glass windows of the apartment.

"What?" Kurt asked in angry disbelief, "I told you to—ugh, forget I'll do it." Kurt said, his voice hoarse.

Josh looked up at Kurt. His face was flushed, eyes rimmed red and puffy, and his once perfectly pressed clothes, were now wrinkled beyond belief. His hair was messy, and it was obvious he had been crying.

"Where did you go?" Josh asked softly, his voice dangerously low.

Kurt was fumbling with his cell phone, trying to get the JFK International Airport on the line. "What? No-no where…I just…I had some stuff to deal with."

"Kurt!" Josh growled shooting Kurt a glare.

"Josh, I'm serious right now, are you going to pack or just sit there?" Kurt yelled back, his blue eyes blazing as he walked away down the hall.

Josh took a deep breath, as he stood up, and turned to face Kurt.

"Hello—hi, I'd like to book two flights from New York to Paris, the earliest flight available please," Kurt said into the phone, as he rushed towards the bedroom.

Josh followed Kurt to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Kurt toss some clothes and toiletries into a luggage bag.

"Yes, yes, that's fine." Kurt said juggling the phone on his shoulder as he tossed a few pairs of pants into the suitcase.

"Kurt we're not leaving tonight," Josh said callously, staring at Kurt with burning brown eyes.

Kurt ignored Josh, continuing to throw whatever essentials he could find into his suitcase and digging through one of his drawers for his passport. "Okay, thank you very much, uh huh, yeah, okay. Bye," Kurt said, hanging up his phone and tossing it on the bed.

"Kurt? Are you even listening to me?" Josh asked, raising his voice as he stood watching Kurt moving about the room frantically.

"Josh we don't have time for this, our flight leaves in an hour, just pack whatever necessities you need, we can just buy new stuff when we get there." Kurt said, pushing past Josh to the bathroom.

"New stuff?" Josh repeated, his eyes narrowing, "How long do you plan on staying there?"

Kurt didn't answer, instead, began digging through a drawer for a few pairs of nightwear.

"Kurt! I'm not going to Paris tonight!" Josh said angrily, his eyes following Kurt as he ran across the bedroom to the closet.

Kurt was almost in a daze, completely oblivious to everything and anything Josh was saying to him. "Shit...I don't know where I left my..." Kurt began looking around for some item that was hiding around the room.

"Kurt...Kurt...?" Josh said frustratingly trying to get his attention, "KURT!" Josh yelled, striding up and grabbing Kurt by the shoulders, trying to get Kurt to look him in the eyes.

"What?" Kurt snapped back, pushing Josh off him, glaring back up at him with burning eyes.

"What are you doing?" Josh asked angrily, "What are you...doing?" Josh said again, softer this time.

Kurt rolled his eyes, moving to his suitcase and zipping it shut. "It's what you wanted." Kurt muttered almost sarcastically.

"What?" Josh echoed, sitting down on the bed in an aggravated huff, "This is never what I wanted..."

Kurt picked up his suitcase, dragging it to the doorway of the bedroom. "You better start packing, or we'll miss the plane."

"No. Kurt, you'll miss the plane." Josh sighed, looking at Kurt sadly, and shaking his head as he tried to calm down.

Kurt turned, pausing in the doorframe and staring at Josh in disbelief, "What?"

Josh could barely look Kurt in the eyes. He looked so scared, so pained…so broken. This wasn't the man Josh knew…he wasn't the man he'd known for months—but tonight—tonight, there was a complete stranger in front of him. Kurt's eyes were scorching—staring daggers at him, waiting for some sort of response.

Josh turned his head up, "What are you running from Kurt?" he asked softly, his auburn eyes meeting with icy blue ones.

Kurt's eyes narrowed. He could feel the familiar stinging feeling in his eyes.

"You're running...aren't you?" Josh said again, his voice rising. He could see Kurt's eyes getting misty, and his face beginning to flush.

Kurt couldn't say a word, his lip quivered as he stared at Josh, his tears threatening to spill over any moment.

"I know about him Kurt. I'm not stupid." Josh looked away, burying his head in his hands "I'd be an idiot if I didn't see it." Josh said coldly.

Kurt's hands let go of the luggage, letting it clatter to the floor loudly. He bit down on his lip so hard he was beginning to taste the metallic tang of blood.

"I think a part of me didn't want to believe it...maybe you were just busy, or work had you out at all hours…I don't know." Josh took a shaky breath, "At one point I thought it had to be my fault, me working all the time." Josh paused before continuing, "But this was never about me was it?"

Kurt couldn't hold it any longer, and he could feel his hot tears spilling over, and stream down his cheeks.

"Am I wrong?" Josh went on, "You love him, so just...just tell me Kurt…who are you running from?"

Kurt could hear Josh's breath hitch at that last part.

"I-I have to go," Kurt stuttered, wiping the tears from his face with his sleeve and turning around. "Your ticket is waiting for you at the counter—you can—you can…" Kurt took a deep breath, "You can get it if you want."

Kurt pushed past the doorway, picking up the fallen luggage and hurrying down the hallway.

"We're over aren't we?" Josh called from the bedroom.

Kurt stopped, blinking back his tears. Kurt looked down at the floor for a split second, before continuing to walk down the hall.

Josh emerged from the bedroom, standing by the doorway as Kurt walked on. "You know it, and I know it...who are we fooling with this?" Josh called, "Going off to Paris isn't going to change anything...You've hurt me, you've hurt yourself...and from what I can tell from the way you're acting now...you've hurt him too."

Kurt turned around slowly, he wanted to yell—he wanted to scream at Josh. He wanted to say he didn't understand, that he had no idea what he was saying…because he didn't. He didn't know how hard this was for him, he didn't know how much guilt he felt, and he sure as hell didn't know how difficult this was.

Kurt looked down the hall, his eyes falling to the floor.

The tension was beginning to build. Josh stared wordlessly at Kurt, auburn eyes glaring.

"Tell me who it is Kurt…I deserve that much," Josh said, his voice echoing through the penthouse.

Kurt was trembling from where he stood in the hall. "I love him…" Kurt whispered.

Josh's eyes flickered for a moment as he absorbed the words. "Then why are you here? Why aren't you with him now?" Josh asked, his voice building, "Why did you chose me." He screamed angrily.

"All I do is hurt him…over and over and over again. I don't deserve him." Kurt muttered, his eyes staring down at the floor as he felt the wave of tears flooding his eyes once again.

Josh took a deep breath, his hands balled into fists. "And you don't deserve me…"

Kurt chuckled dryly as he wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, "I don't. I don't think I ever really did. I've hurt you more than I can imagine."

The words hit Josh hard, and he stood staring incredulously at Kurt. "You have no idea how much I loved you."

Kurt smiled sadly, his eyes still locked on the cool marble tiles lining the hall. "No—no, I did…I knew exactly how much you loved me…and I always felt guilty that I didn't love you back as much." Kurt lifted his head slowly, catching Josh's expressionless gaze. "And for that…I am truly sorry."

Josh stared at Kurt, his mouth hanging open, and watched as he picked up his luggage bag, turned around, and walked toward the front door.

Josh followed Kurt, pausing at the end of the hallway and watched as Kurt opened the door, pulling his luggage past the doorframe.

"And his name is Blaine." Kurt said softly, before pulling the door shut.

Blaine's jaw hung open, as Josh finished up his recollection.

"He—he…" Blaine mumbled, as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to process everything Josh had just said.

Josh gazed away, "Which is why…I assumed that he'd be with you."

Blaine was speechless, "But…he said…I thought—"

Josh took a deep breath, "Nope. He never chose me. In his mind, maybe…but in his heart, it was always you. We were distant—strangers almost—while you two were doing whatever the fuck you were doing. He picked me because of the guilt."

Blaine sat motionless, his eyes staring idly into space.

The two of them sat silently for a few moments, neither knowing what to say.

"He—he's in Paris?" Blaine finally asked, his voice breaking the tense silence.

"No." Josh replied. "He didn't board the flight. I called the airport this morning, and they said both tickets were left at the counter. I don't where he is…but he's gone. He could have taken another flight, he could be here in New York…I don't know where he is."

Blaine pursed his lips together, his eyes narrowing as he thought about where Kurt would go. "But…"

"He screwed us both over…" Josh said resentfully, his eyes going dark as he stared at the wall behind Blaine.

"No," Blaine retorted, his eyes narrowing, "Kurt would never do this. He wouldn't run."

"He ran, he ran from everything, you need to wake up and face reality—he left us both." Josh said softly, grimacing as he said it.

"No. You're lying. Kurt didn't—he couldn't leave. He—he couldn't." Blaine said, shaking his head, and rising from the table.

"Believe what you will, but…he's gone Blaine. He's gone." Josh replied.

Blaine shook his head, turning away toward the front door, "No. Kurt—Kurt didn't leave. He wouldn't."

Josh watched Blaine turn on his heel and exit the way he'd entered, shaking his head in disbelief and muttering under his breath—slamming the front door as he left.

Passengers, we are now preparing for landing—please fasten your seatbelts and up your seats in an upright position, thank you.

Kurt stared out the window of the plane, his eyes wandering over the lights below him. They were already landing and Kurt was still trembling. He chewed on his lower lip, trying to bite back tears that hadn't stopped falling since he boarded.

"Excuse me sir?" A pretty stewardess said, tapping Kurt lightly on the shoulder, "Could you please fasten your seatbelt? We'll be landing soon."

Kurt nodded, brushing at his eyes with the back of his hand, and snapping his seatbelt into place.

Kurt's misty blue eyes looked back out the window as the Plane began to descend through the clouds.

Everything was wrong. Kurt had left his fiancée, his life, his stuff…everything. Kurt had backed out of a wedding, left his home, his friends—but all he could think about were those bright hazel eyes. All he could think about was that sweet, low voice saying his name, and those warm hands holding his…all he could think about was Blaine.

Kurt sniffed as he brushed at his teary eyes again.

What has he done? He'd run from everything that was ever important in his life. He'd left anything that he'd ever cared about.

Somehow…he'd managed to ruin the best thing to happen in his life…ever.

He didn't have the courage to face it.

Ladies and Gentleman, this is your captain speaking. The weather in Los Angeles is about 65 degrees. We'll be arriving on time in about 10 minutes, so please keep your seatbelts fastened. We hope you enjoyed your flight, and join us again. Please be careful as you remove your luggage from the overhead compartments, some items may have shifted during flight.