The hot, sticky days of summer drifted by and Blaine's second year at Dalton had all but welcomed him home with a warm embrace. His mother hadn't been as overbearing when he had brought friends over as that first night, but he didn't really seem to care enough to question it. The only issues he came across were the constant text messages when he went out with his friends; mother had now moved from her "find a career path" campaign to a "find your soul mate" crusade instead. She always needed to know who was there, who had a TiMER, who was already taken. Frankly, half the time he forgot he had just a brand on his wrist. It was water resistant, heat resistant, and was just not very fragile enough to worry about breaking it. It hadn't indicated that his other half had gotten an implant, yet, which was absolutely fine with him. He finally had a chance to be what he wanted and to do what he loved without the constant nagging of improvement squawking over his shoulder. He was in no rush and he was hoping the other side of his string of fate wasn't either.

Classes were easy to jump back into when fall came around, no matter how much the difficulty level of classes had increased. Blaine was just thankful how spread out his schedule was; seeing that anatomy, physics, and pre-calculus were overwhelming enough, he couldn't imagine having them crammed into a single day. His brain might have either exploded with such an intake of information, or possibly deflated from exhaustion.

The majority of the Warblers managed to get into rooms close enough to one another so exchanges of information, notes, and the easy access to a practice partner was never a problem. They were all in suite style rooms again with Blaine and Jeff living together and Trent with Thad living in the adjoining room. The boys were eager to get to the common room for practice; the familiar acoustics just weren't the same anywhere else.

Blaine slipped through the doors a bit early before the rest of the boys showed up. He slid a hand across the back of the worn, red couch; his fingertips becoming reacquainted with the stitched fabric. He peered around the room, a smile creeping onto his lips as he felt the warm sense of home. The furniture hadn't been moved out of place; the antique novels, yearbooks, and music books were still staggered along the shelves like they hadn't been touched. As he looked towards the window, he noticed a foreign plaque hanging along one of the previously bare wood walls. Right away he wished he hadn't.

There, framed along the wall as if on par with Monet's Nimphee or Van Gogh's Starry Night, was a life-size advertisement for the TiMER complete with the "True Love On A Schedule" tagline. He grinded his teeth and released a breath through his nose. "I can't catch a damn break."

"I hear you," interrupted an unfamiliar voice. A boy clad in the Dalton blue and red stood by the double doors of the common room, his hands shoved into his pockets. His hair was a bit on the longer side and wisped at the tips, although still met dress code as it hadn't yet reached the top of the collar. He gave a crooked, unsure smile before reaching out a hand to Blaine. "Nick. Nick Nichols."

"Blaine Anderson. And Nick Nichols? Wow, how much did your parents hate you," Blaine gave a teasing grin and he reached for his hand, hoping his first attempt at conversation with this boy didn't hit a soft spot. He was relieved when he laughed in return and gave a firm, yet friendly hand shake.

"It's a family name. I'm number five, so it's rather late in the game to lay a complaint on it," he shrugged, again with a smile. He looked back up to the advertisement that screamed too loud against the traditional walls of the common room. "It's kind of ailing, really. When you think about it, how much of it is really fate, you know? Maybe the devices match up to someone random and we just make it a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Blaine gapped at Nick's words, not having heard that idea being used to contradict the TiMER before. Was it really all just a rouse? People are capable of outrageous things, and when they are fed such an extravagant lie, it's no surprise to hear that they would follow it. He was about to give a response when the squeaks of leather turning a corner and the pollution of loud chatter filled the previous stillness of the room exploded through the doors.

"It's so good to be home. Oh, hello, couch, I've missed you so," Thad cried as he fell backwards onto the red cushions, squeezing a pillow against his chest. "Oh, it feels like memories of cramming hours before a test and passing out for 10-minute breaks." His reacquaintance with the squishy cushions was cut short as a second pillow met his face.

"Thad, you're hogging the couch. Some of us also have memories to divulge in," Wes smirked, shoving Thad's legs off the couch surface to allow more sitting room.

"Yeah, but your memories usually involve ice cream, tears, and seasons of Grey's Anatomy," Thad laughed as he chucked the pillow back.

"And those are perfectly acceptable memories to have," Wes nodded matter-of-factly, chin held up in pride. His expression fell when his gaze fell onto the brand new eye-sore nailed into the wall. "What the hell is that doing in here?"

"Oh, I thought the room could use more color and controversy. I think it gives it a nice touch, don't you agree," Blaine asked as he side stepped next to the poster, hands placed elegantly like a show-girl displaying a brand new car.

"That's a good look for you, Blaine. Have you ever thought of working on game shows? You'd look dashing in sequin," Jeff laughed, an echo of chuckles and cat calls following soon after by the rest of the Warblers. "That aside, who's your shadow?" Jeff gave a slight nod to the boy standing off to the side, hands uncomfortably hidden in his pockets.

"Nick," he croaked out, raising a fist to his mouth to clear his throat. "Nick. Nick Nichols."

"Dude, awesome name" John smiled as he pointed over at Nick. "I like it."

"I agree, I like it, too," Jeff smiled warmly at him, his head tilted at a small angle. "So, Nick Nichols. What brings you here? Is this your first year?"

"It is my first year at Dalton, yes; but, I transferred from Glendale Oaks Academy in Pennsylvania. My father was offered a business transition and we were brought over to Ohio. And, well, here I am," he grinned, arms fanned out to present his attendance. "And the reasons I'm here is that I heard you had a well-established show choir and I was wondering when auditions were taking place. I was in a show choir back at Glendale, but we never really went into competitions. We were just a private choir for a private school."

The boys looked around the room at each other, some giving shrugs of uncertainty or expressions of curiosity. "Well," started Wes," auditions and sign-ups for art clubs and groups are actually towards the end of the week-"

"However, if you're good enough, we can look into it as a 'transition' from one previous group to the next as says in Amendment D, Section 12 of the Warbler handbook, right Wes," Jeff asked, head still tilted towards his right shoulder as he looked at the new boy in front of him with fascination. He smiled wider as he noted a light blush shading Nick's pale cheeks.

Wes followed the quiet exchange between the Junior Warbler and the newcomer and sighed, seeing the 'why not?' shrug by Blaine out of the corner of his eye. "Seeing as our active brother Jeff is currently smitten," he began, causing a few laughs and a deeper blush on Nick's cheeks, "as long as the current members are all in agreement, we will listen to your audition and follow suit with a decision. I hope you have something prepared."

"Oh, I do. And I was hoping you would come in to accompany me if you know it," Nick stammered, hands now out of his pockets.

"If we know the arrangement off hand," Blaine chuckled. "What's the song?"

"Do you know Uptown Girl?"

Blaine had been watching his roommate and the newbie interact the past few weeks after Nick's successful and reputable Warbler audition. It began innocent enough, with quick glances and weak smiles. There were exchanges of small talk with Nick being highly interested in Jeff's hobbies and Jeff trying hard to find ways to make Nick laugh. They were usually the first to arrive in the common room with Jeff's shoes on the floor before the couch and his thighs pulled to his chest and chin atop his knees. And then there was Nick who sat with his back barely grazing the back of the couch and legs crossed at the knee. After practice or weekly meetings, they were usually the first or last to leave, depending on if plans were made prior that morning. Chatter soon evolved into whispers and flirty touches and hand holding; it wasn't a month or so later when they were just officially considered a couple even if there was no vocal declaration.

What Blaine didn't understand is why they fell for each other and why they continued to thrive on their newfound relationship. They were practically the complete opposite of each other, or at least more opposite than one could bear to handle putting up with. Jeff liked throw back cartoons, Nick enjoyed British humor. Jeff dived into video games whereas Nick couldn't even figure out the buttons half the time. Jeff would run head on into a Nerf battle with no fear of consequences while Nick would hide behind a doorframe or chair as long as he could before running to a new hiding place. For so many years the idea of soul mates and perfect matches was shoved down his throat to the point of congestion. And yet, these boys defied what everyone out there was preaching. One night in October after Jeff came home from a movie night—and a kiss from Nick—Blaine couldn't help but ask him what he had been curious about since the start of their relationship.

"Hey, Jeff," Blaine spoke, setting the book he was reading down onto the bedspread. "Hmm," was Jeff's response and he moved to hang up his blazer up into his closet.

"I don't mean to pry, but I'm just curious about something." Jeff toed his way out of his shoes and jumped up onto his bed, settling down into a sit on the still shifting mattress. "Shoot."

"How- I mean why-," Blaine started, completely off guard at how difficult this conversation actually was to begin. After a moment of quiet and a confused—yet curious—stare by Jeff, he began again. "You and Nick don't have TiMERs, yet you still decided to be in a relationship."

Jeff leaned against the mahogany headboard of his bed, pulling a pillow onto his lap. He aimlessly began to play with a corner, biting his lip before leaning his head back. "You know, Blaine, not all things are determined by fate. Sometimes you just have to let things happen, to just go with what makes you feel right for you at this point in time, you know."

Blaine squinted his eyes in thought, trying to make sense of the information Jeff was giving him. He shook his head, "I just don't understand. What's the point of even trying a relationship with the possibility of you not being each other's soul mates?"

"Because we enjoy each others' company. We understand the chances of us not ending up together, but for now we're not concerned about that."

Blaine continued to stare at his friend. Obviously, this was a bit of a sore spot and perhaps something he had discussed on numerous occasions due to his exhausted expression. "Hey, I'm sorry if I stepped on your toes. I'm not trying to be pushy; I'm just trying to make sense of a situation I don't quite understand."

"I know you are," Jeff smiled lightly to Blaine before peering down to his embraced pillow. "This is the chance for us to live, Blaine; a chance for us to have fun and be happy. We're not young for very long, and I don't want to live it just waiting around for someone to come find me. I really like Nick, Blaine. And I just want to hold on to that feeling as long as I can."

After that they discussed a few more things, like why Nick couldn't tell his parents about Jeff as to not disappoint them for a possible lack of a 5th generation to the family line. And how Jeff's parents were so excited about him finding somebody that he truly cares about. And how he was wanting to bring Nick home with him on Thanksgiving to meet his family, but Nick says his parents would find it strange that he won't come home for a holiday. He went to bed with the lingering ghost of Jeff's words about not wanting to wait around for some prince to swoop him up into happiness; about how he pretty much would rather discover it for himself on his time right now.

Waiting around for that perfect someone as your whole life goes by.

Is it even worth it?