And then the door opens. Kate enters, followed by Blaine and Patrick who are holding hands. All three of them look exhausted, especially Patrick and Kate, but they look happy as well.

"... coming along?"

"Well, I don't know, Kate. I promised Kurt that he could tell me why he waited for so long in a really boring room." Blaine-Jake grins at him. And it's only then that Kurt realizes he calls him Blaine when he thinks of him. But as soon as he is there, he calls him this strange mixed name. He doesn't know why, or doesn't want to admit it.

"Come on. The karaoke bar isn't that bad. And maybe Kurt would like coming along as well? At least Mercedes told me that he used to sing." Kate looks at him. "Or don't you?"

Kurt closes the book and puts it down. "Well, it's half the truth. I still sing." He grins at Kate.

"Oh? You have to tell us!"

"Not tonight." What he really means is: I don't want to tell you. Not now. Not with Patrick here.

Blaine-Jake looks at Patrick. "So, are you going?"

"Of course! You really think I want to miss Carlos making a complete idiot out of himself by singing 'Dancing Queen'?"

All three laugh at this obvious inside joke.

"So, you don't have a problem with my going with Kurt? Talking, maybe having a drink..." Blaine looks a bit insecure as he watches Patrick.

"No, why should I?" Patrick puts his arm around Blaines waist and pulls him closer. "Just have a nice evening." When Patrick kisses Blaine, Kurt has to look away.

-x-

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine-Jake put on a cardigan, they walk down the street.

"Two blocks down there is a nice little gay bar," Blaine-Jake says. "Uhm, that is, if you don't mind. But it's the closest bar and the drinks are not too expensive and the owner is a pretty good friend of mine and -"

Kurt interrupts. "No, it's okay. I haven't been in a gay bar since New York."

"You're from New York?" Out of the corners of his eyes Kurt can see Blaine looking at him.

"Not really. I grew up in Ohio, but I studied in New York."

"Oh. So, how is New York?"

Kurt would love to say "Don't you remember? Can't you remember the times we went for a walk in Central Park? Or when we went ice skating with Rachel by the Rockefeller Center shortly before Christmas? How we blew off New Year's Eve on Times Square with the guys from New Directions under the pretense we had a stomach bug, so that we could spend the whole evening together in bed?" But instead he says "Nice. New York is nice. Even if it's a … different kind of nice than Los Angeles."

"I … haven't been there. I think."

"You think?" Kurt is confused and looks at Blaine-Jake.

"Uhm, yeah. I'll tell you another time, if that's OK with you?"

"Sure." He smiles at Blaine-Jake. "Every story has its own time and place, doesn't it?"

Blaine-Jake smiles back.

And then, almost too sudden, Blaine Jake stops. "Here it is."

'Queerdom' is written above the door in illuminated, rainbow-colored letters.

Blaine-Jake holds the door open for Kurt and follows him in.

Kurt has to admit that he likes it. Tasty but not too much. And somehow still … special. Fur fabrics and velvet everywhere (but the colors match!), bar stools upholstered with black leather, disco balls hanging from the ceiling and lots of pictures covering the walls. A life-sized figurine of Marylin Monroe is standing in one corner.

Blaine-Jake goes towards the bar and a woman, Kurt guesses she is around fourty, greets him.

"Jake, darling! I haven't seen you in ages!

She hugs him over the counter top and kisses him on each cheek. For a moment she reminds Kurt of Steve, but with her it seems honest and loving.

"Marie! I'm so, so sorry. But there's college and the Adagio and then my job with The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf … You know that it stresses me out."

"Yeah, honey, it's okay." She looks over Blaine-Jake's shoulder. "And who's that cutie?"

Blaine laughs and grabs Kurt's hand.

"Marie, this is Kurt. Kurt, that's Marie, the bar's kind soul."

"It's so nice to meet you, Kurt."

"Nice to meet you, too."

She, too, hugged him over the top of the counter and kissed him on both cheeks.

"The usual, Jake?"

"Yes, please, and for my friend here … uhm … what would you like to drink, Kurt?"

Kurt pondered it for a moment. "A scotch with soda, please." Actually, he would like to drink something sweeter, but he needs something strong to get more courage for what he should tell Blaine in a few moments. Or what he has to tell him. Or both, maybe.

"Come, we can sit down somewhere." Blaine-Jake pulls him to a small booth in a corner. "Marie will bring us our drinks."

Kurt sits down on one side of the table and Blaine-Jake sits across from him.

"Back at the restaurant, Kate said that you used to sing."

Oh, luckily something that's light enough. He was afraid that Blaine-Jake would start with the heavy topics right from the beginning, without giving him the time to gather some courage. Not that it was like him to give himself Dutch courage, but … this situation isn't exactly ordinary.

"Well, like I said before... Not really. I still sing, but only partially."

Blaine-Jake looks at him a bit confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Kurt laughs quietly. "I'm a member of a theater group. Our program at the moment is a musical with which we are touring through the US. We've been in Los Angeles for almost three weeks and when we're done here we're continuing towards San Diego. From there it's Las Vegas and then Phoenix."

Blaine-Jake is actually gaping. "Wow."

That's the moment when their drinks arrive.

"Here you are, sweethearts. Have a wonderful night." Marie winks at them.

Blaine-Jake takes his beer and raises it. "To … uhm... to what should we drink?"

Kurt reaches for his scotch. "To … to one meeting of many," he offers.

They chink glasses. "To one night of many."

Kurt takes a sip and relishes the feeling how a slight burning from the alcohol spreads in his mouth and throat.

"You're attending college," he asks when he puts his glass down.

"Yes. The Community College in Pasadena."

"And … what exactly are you studying?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just 'Performing and Communication Arts', majoring in music … I hope I can work in that direction one day."

"You'd like to become a musician?"

"Well... not really becoming. I like to sing. And I can play a bit of both piano and guitar."

Kurt thinks back. "I like to sing" is a bit of an understatement, if you would ask him. Blaine always sang. Under the shower. In the car. While cooking. Geez, when they moved into their first apartment in Manhattan, Blaine even sang while he was painting the walls! Kurt can't keep himself from smiling.

"Sounds familiar."

Blaine-Jake looks at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

Kurt takes another sip. Now or never. Go in and win! Let him have it! He's out of lousy clich�s, although thinking about them would be a fantastic opportunity to postpone the conversation he is about to have.

"The real reason I came ..."

Blaine looks at him. His hazel eyes twinkle a bit. And Kurt has to suppress the urge to kiss him.

"You remind me of someone I knew at high school."

Blaine drinks some of his beer. "Knew?"

"Yeah..." Kurt hesitates for a moment. How much should he tell him? Now that they're seeing each other for the third time, and are actually talking for the first time. He decides on keeping a bit of the truth from Blaine. Technically speaking that's not even lying. "During my senior year we were together in our school's Glee Club. And later on we left for New York with a friend, so we could study at NYADA." He drinks more of his scotch. "We … shared an apartment." Which is true. Kind of. Only that they also shared the bedroom and even the bed. "The rents are pretty high in New York," he tries to excuse himself.

"And why did you lost contact? Or ..."

Kurt sighs and watches the amber-colored liquid as he carefully plays with his class. "No, we're not in touch anymore. But I'd like to know why, too."

"So he never told you why he doesn't call?" Blaine-Jake looks at him, confusion in his eyes.

"No. One day he just left, without leaving a message or ever calling again. He is out of touch with everyone, even with our friends."

"Wow." Blaine-Jake plays with the beer glass. "That's tough."

Kurt nods. It hurts talking about Blaine.

"Have you ..."

Kurt looks up.

"Have you two been together?"

Kurt hesitates.

"Of course you don't have to tell me," Blaine-Jake answers quickly, interpreting Kurt's hesitation correctly.

He deserves so much truth, Kurt thinks.

"Yes, we were an item."

"Ouch. That hurts even more, him just leaving."

Kurt laughs harshly. "You can say that." He empties the rest of his scotch in one gulp.

"Do you know where he wanted to go?"

Is it too much if Kurt tells him that the love of his live left for Los Angeles? Would it make Blaine-Jake think?

"Yeah..."

"So..."

"I'm sorry, I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Sure." Blaine-Jake smiles at him. "I know how it feels like if you don't want to talk about something. Or can't."

"Hm?"

But in that moment Marie comes to their table again. "Do you two handsome guys want another drink?"

"I'll get another scotch with soda, please."

"Of course, love." She smiles. "And what about you, baby?"

Blaine-Jake looks at the small puddle in his beer glass. "A ginger … oh, screw it. Another beer, please, Marie."

She laughs as she leaves to get their drinks.

For a moment Kurt watches her leaving, then turns around to Blaine again.

"So?"

"What 'so'?"

"You said something along those lines that you know how it feels if you can't talk about things," he inquires.

"Oh, that. Well..." Blaine-Jake draws a deep breath. "It's … a bit complicated."

"I know complicated, believe me. We had two divas in our Glee Club," he pauses when Blaine-Jake raises an eyebrow. "Okay, fine, three divas, including me." Blaine-Jake laughs and Kurt has to grin. Blaine's laugh always had been contagious. "Anyways, we fought often enough about solos or who would be allowed to sing which part. I still don't know why our teacher never lost it." He shrugs apologetically. "You see, hardly anything can shock me." And he's got a slight idea what Blaine-Jake wants to tell him and he could hit himself that he hasn't had that idea sooner.

"Okay." Marie has brought their new drinks at some point while they were talking and Blaine takes another sip from his new beer.

"It's been a bit over a year, I guess it should be around sixteen months... I woke up in a hospital and couldn't remember anything. I didn't know my name, or where I come from. I didn't know where I was, either, apart from the obvious fact that I was at a hospital. I couldn't even tell you which year it was or who was our president. My memory was blank. Completely blank."

He takes another sip and watches the foam sliding down the sides of the glass. Kurt doesn't dare saying anything.

"I didn't have to learn everything. I could still talk. And walk. And play guitar as well as piano. But anything that involved me was gone."

He looks at Kurt and the only thing that comes to Kurt's mind is to nod. Stupid, really, but what could he say anyways?"

"They called me Jake, because one of the nurses said I looked a bit like her father." He laughs a bit embarrassed. "And they also said I had to be around 22, or 23. Maybe even 24. We settled on 22," he laughs. "You know, if you can become younger again, it's not the worst thing that can happen." Kurt grins despite everything.

"The nurse who thought I looked like her father, took me home so I could live somewhere in the beginning. And after a few days she told me everything that happened. That I had a severe car accident in which all my things burnt. That's why they didn't know who I was. I was in a coma for over a months and in the beginning they weren't even sure if I would make it." He twists his hands around the glass. "But as you can see," he looks back at Kurt, "I'm still here. Bad weeds grow tall, or something like that." His laugh sounds a bit desperate.

Understanding hits Kurt like a fist to his stomach and he fights desperately not to let it show.

"And then she helped me finding a job. The only thing I really could was playing guitar and piano. And sing. But try to find a good paying job that includes singing. That's how I ended up at the Adagio, playing a few nights every week for the guests. I met Pat there, too."

The look on Blaine-Jake's face is one that Kurt know well. Maybe a bit too well, because that's how he used to look at him – hopelessly in love.

"And after a while we got together. It's been eight months now." Blaine-Jake smiles.

"Would you," Kurt has to clear his throat. "Would you like to know things from your former life? Who you were? Who you were friends with? And … things like that."

Blaine-Jake looks at him. "I don't know. Sure, it would be nice, but would it really change something?"

-x-

When Kurt takes a cab back to the hotel later that night, he is confused, but somehow he sees things clearer than before. It's a strange feeling, and one he doesn't want to have too often.

But at least he now knows what happened to Blaine, his Blaine. He had a car accident in which he lost everything. Not only his cell phone or his driver's license, but his identity, too.

Of course that explains as well why he never called again, why he simply left.

And suddenly Kurt hates himself for thinking the worst about Blaine. To assume that Blaine just vanished from his life. Blaine, the Blaine he knew, never would have done that.

Only when he is in the elevator, on the way to the room he shares with Matt, he sees that he must have been crying on the way to the hotel.