He woke up with the taste of cheap beer and cigarettes in his mouth and the feeling that someone was continuously hitting him in the head with a broken glass bottle. He grumbled something and turned around to cover his head with the pillow next to him. Except there was someone on said pillow. Someone he didn't quite remember inviting to said pillow.

Fuck.

Slowly he opened his eyes, but the sun still hurt like a bitch.

Right. He had been drinking last night. But why… that was when he saw the invitation lying on the floor, crumpled up and half hidden underneath his–or the other guy's–shirt.

He didn't have the courage to get up and have the awkward get-out-of-my-bedtalk. So he did what he always did. He closed his eyes and turned around, burying his face in his pillows.

When he woke up, the other guy, still nameless, was gone. Luckily.

With a deep sigh he got up. Immediately his stomach protested and he just made it to the bathroom before he spat everything out.

He did not want to go anywhere today. But the only thing left in his fridge was another six-pack of Bud Light, so he really had to go grocery shopping.

He took a hot shower and while he let the hot water wash his worries away, he thought of the invitation. He got out, dressed and went looking for the small piece of off-white parchment.

He looked at it:

Kurt Hummel & Elliot Bricker

Invite you at their wedding.

With it crumpled up in his fist he tried to swallow the lump that was suddenly forming in his throat.

No.

He wouldn't cry. He couldn't cry. He'd already cried too much. He bit his lower lip so hard he drew blood. Blaine Anderson would not cry over a man who he himself broke up with over three years ago. Not over a decision he made three years ago.

Even if it was the worst decision he had ever made in his entire life.

But regret is always too late.

At around 6 pm he made his way to the small coffee shop where he would play to get the money he needed badly to pay the rent. It was a good day, it snowed outside, the kind of snow that makes your tears freeze halfway your cheeks, so people were more likely to stop by and listen to his songs while drinking their coffee.

As he arrives he doesn't notice the slender figure sitting in the back, sipping his mocha with an engagement ring on his long, pale finger.

Without saying or doing anything but giving a small nod to the barista, he makes his way to the small stage set up for him.

As he begins singing the man in the back looks up from where he was staring at his coffee cup.

You say, "I love you, boy"

I know you lie

I trust you all the same

I don't know why

He sings more to himself than to the people over-crowding the small place.

'Cos when my back is turned

My bruises shine

Our broken fairytale

So hard to hide

The scent of fresh coffee brings back memories of long forgotten coffee dates before school. The memories of non-fat mocha's and medium drips. The memories of feeding eachother pieces of those ridiculous valentine cookies, while laughing at the silliness of it all. Memories with the smell of coffee and Vanilla. Memories of kisses that tasted like mocha. Would they still…?

I still believe

It's you and me till the end of time

It's true. He does still believe it. He just doesn't believe it's ever going to happen again. He had his chance and he blew it.
When he looks up to look at the people in the small room, so does the man at the table in the back. Glasz meets hazel and for a moment neither dares to breathe. But Blaine looks away. It's too late anyway.

When we collide we come together

If we don't we'll always be apart

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it

When you hit me, hit me hard

Sitting in a wishing hall

Hoping it stays right

Feet cast in solid stone

I got Gilligan's eyes

He lets the memories flood his brain, while tears slowly run down his cheeks, unnoticed by the customers, who are all too busy with their own problems. Except for one. One customer in the very back, staring into his coffee cup, glasz eyes suddenly light grey.

I still believe

It's you and me till the end of time

One silent tear falls into his coffee cup. He hadn't even noticed he was crying. He twists the ring around his finger, thinking how it would have looked if it was by the man he actually loves, letting memories flood his mind, too. On the other side of the coffee shop Blaine just keeps on playing, tears slowly making their way down his face, onto his guitar.

'Cos you said our love

Is letting us go, guess what

Our future is for

Many of horror

Our future's for

Many of horror

He gets up and goes outside, unable to handle the weight of the memories pressing on his shoulders. He leaves behind a half empty coffee cup with the name Kurt scribbled on it and the faint smell of Vanilla.

I still believe

It's you and me till the end of time…