Remind Me to Forget

Chapter 14

Blaine doodles in the margins of his notebook, only half listening to the lecture about the process to add an amendment to the Constitution. He'd rushed to the class as soon as the bell rang, wanting to avoid the concerned looks he'd been receiving the past two days. Kurt had been correct; there hadn't been any judgments, but the members of Glee could never be said to be inconspicuous, and while well-intentioned, the continued glances had Blaine on edge.

Absently, Blaine wonders if this was how Quinn felt after Beth was born.

At lunch the day before he'd been the center of attention. His friends concerned, questioning him and curious to know about his nightmares (asking how long and why and what can I do) making it so he couldn't shift his focus, couldn't ignore the past like he normally would.

The lights dim and Blaine looks up, sighs when he sees Amendments on the title slide of a PowerPoint, the spinning text mirroring his thoughts. He sighs, twirls his pen before shifting in his seat. It's rare that he has to take notes in Civics, but occasionally there's a frenzy with all the test information given in one class.

Apparently today is one of those days.

When the bell rings half an hour later, Blaine shakes out the cramp in his hand before clearing his desk. He's not looking forward to Calculus, he's never cared for the content and as much as he cares for Tina and Unique their glances and shared looks aren't hidden.

No wonder Kurt was such a terrible spy.

Although, Blaine thinks with a smile, Kurt's attempts at espionage were rather endearing.

“Hey Blaine!” Sam meets him in the hallway, pulling Blaine from his thoughts. “You know what you're singing this week?”

“I'm guessing you don't?” Blaine accompanies the question with a laugh, gives Sam a knowing look.

“Nah, not set in stone, anyway. But I figured I'd check with Mr. Prepared, see what you have.”

“You'll find out with everyone else, when I sing on Friday.”

“Really? You're going to make your best friend wait?”

“It's two days; you'll survive.”

Sam groans and Blaine ducks under his arm with a smile, entering his Calculus classroom.

Text message from Blaine:

Sam hasn't chosen a song yet…

Text message from Kurt:

Is this supposed to surprise me? Glee Club survives on impromptu performances

Text message from Blaine:

It still amazes me – practice is important

Text message from Blaine:

…wish me luck! Looks like the quiz is first

Text message from Kurt:

Glee practices for competition; everything else is temperamental ;)

Text message from Kurt:

Good luck (although I know how much you've studied – you'll do great)

Text message from Kurt:

Love you! <3

Blaine's still smiling when Unique enters the room, shooting him a confused look before she sees his phone.

“I don't care how much you love Kurt. You shouldn't be smiling the day we have a quiz in Calculus. It's just wrong.”

Blaine shrugs. “I've studied all I can.” He pauses, and gives Unique a smile. “And Kurt was just wishing me luck.”

“Mercedes was right. You two are like a Disney couple: unbelievably cute even in less than ideal situations.”

“I'm going to take that as a compliment.”

“Hm.” Unique nods before leaning forward, closer to Blaine. “Are you –”

“Can I borrow your cheat sheet? I want to compare it with mine. I feel like I've forgotten something.”

Tina's interruption has Blaine releasing a sigh of relief, fumbling with his bag to pull out his papers and avoid answering Unique's question.

He's not looking forward to the quiz, but when Tina waits a beat too long before taking his cheat sheet he can't find it him to resent the required silence that accompanies test-taking.

The bell rings and Blaine reclaims his sheet, sets it beside his graphing calculator with a sigh.

Text message from Blaine:

Quiz time!

-*-*-*-

Kurt straightens his bag and turns on his music as he exits is professor's office, tired but pleased with the comments he'd received during his one-on-one conference. His early morning practices were paying off. He smiles to one of his waiting classmates he walks by them in the hallway; he may not have close friends at NYADA, but he's been in enough classes with the same people to offer a hello in passing.

He exits the building minutes later, blinking as the sunlight hits his eyes. He digs his sunglasses from his bag as he heads down the sidewalk toward his favorite café, dodging businessmen intent on phones and a group of giggling young women oblivious to their surroundings.

Kurt sighs as he waits at a crosswalk, humming along to Feel the Silence and wondering what the man beside him was thinking when he put on such an ill-fitting outfit.

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] Save me from New Yorkers with terrible fashion sense

Text message from Blaine:

You can't have everything in New York, otherwise I'd never see you! ;)

Text message from Kurt:

Very funny.

Text message from Blaine:

You love me!

Text message from Kurt:

You yes…your sense of humor though? That's questionable ;)

Text message from Blaine:

I love you, too :p

Kurt enters the café with a smile, pauses his music as he joins the queue and orders a mocha (if he splurges on a chocolate chip muffin too, well, there's no witnesses). Seated at a table moments later, steaming mug and muffin in front of him, Kurt pulls his laptop and papers from his bag.

With the extra rehearsals added to his already busy schedule, Kurt's hoping to get a bit ahead with his reading, finish his homework early. Taking a sip of his coffee, Kurt sighs and pulls his theatre history text toward him.

There's only so much medieval theatre history he can read; chocolate is a necessity.

-*-*-*-

Lunch is loud, the cafeteria echoing back the conversations within. At the table with his fellow members of Glee club, Blaine picks at his burger, the dry bun less appetizing than usual.

“– stare at it?”

“Hm?” Blaine looks up at Unique's question, meets her inquiring look across the table. “What?”

“Your burger. You're going to eat it, right?”

“Of course he is.” Tina gives Blaine a stern look. “We're not going to have another incident,” Tina looks to Marley, “like we had Regionals.”

Blaine smiles, takes an exaggerated bite before replying. “I know better than to skip meals. Apparently my fiancé has spies everywhere.”

“I don't know about spies, but I do know we got extra rehearsals to prep for nationals, and we can't have one of our best dancers passing out because he skipped lunch.”

Taking another bite of his burger Blaine ducks his head, ignores the pointed reference to his misstep the previous weekend.

“I don't get why Mr. Schue is calling for all these extra rehearsals; if he wants us to practice we can use regular Glee time. But instead he's making us have Glee and extra rehearsal.” Tina pauses, takes another bite of her sandwich. “I know we have to work hard; we have to do well at Nationals, but making us have two sets every week? I'm going to make more mistakes with my feet being this tired.”

“It's not so bad.” Sam leans forward, steals a fry from Blaine's plate. “It's not like our weekly songs take a lot of practice.”

“Yours don't.” Tina's voice drips with condescension. “You don't even have a song yet. But some of us,” Tina looks to Blaine before continuing. “We practice for every performance.”

“It's not so bad.” Marley smiles as she passes around a container of cookies. “Nationals practice is more work; our weekly songs are fun.”

Ryder and Jake respond, but Blaine only partly listens, startling a moment later when a hand settles on his shoulder as Sam attempts to whisper in his ear.

“You okay?”

Blaine faces Sam, represses his sigh at the question; it's been the first thing he's asked ever since he misstepped on Sunday.

“Mm.” Blaine swallows his bite of fries. “I'm fine. A little tired, but aren't we all?”

There's silence for a moment as Sam just stares, and Blaine fidgets, dipping more fries into his pile of ketchup.

“Just want to make sure you're okay…I mean, I'm your best friend but I didn't know anything until you told us Sunday.” Sam's voice holds a hint of confusion, a trace of hurt.

Blaine sets down his fries, leans back with a sigh. “It's not that I don't trust you. It's just not something I like thinking about. It happened years ago anyway.”

“Why's it bothering you now, then?”

Blaine sighs. “I don't know.”

“Oh.” Sam looks disappointed. “But you're okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Blaine gives Sam a small smile. “I'm fine.”

-*-*-*-

Kurt wipes down the counter, putting extra pressure on the stubborn spot of dried sauce near the edge. The diner is moderately full, but he's just delivered food to the last of his customers, and his quick glance around showed no one in need of a refill. To his left, Dani hums as she drums her fingers on the counter, waiting for orders.

“Oh!” Kurt turns at Dani's exclamation, gives her an inquiring look when she takes a moment before continuing. “Before I forget – Elliott and I worked some more after rehearsal last night. I think we'll have everything fixed so tomorrow can go smoothly.” Dani smiles and then claps her hands in excitement. “We started a new piece, too; it's not that complicated so we'll be able to practice tomorrow, too.”

Kurt slowly blinks before giving Dani an overly bright smile. “Sounds like you two got a lot done!”

“Yeah, well,” Dani shrugs, and then her voice turns teasing, “not all of us are in an elite arts school.”

“Right.” Kurt shakes his head. “Just because I'm in NYADA doesn't mean I can join a performance on command. Do I even know this song you two practiced?” He holds eye contact, mentally congratulates himself on keeping his voice casual.

“We talked about it last week.” Dani winks. “You'll know it two chords in.”

“You seem pretty confident.”

“Trust me. Besides, you and Santana will hear it tomorrow at practice.” Dani carefully gathers the plates of food from the serving window and leaves for her table before Kurt can reply.

“She really is perfect for Santana,” Kurt mumbles as he resumes wiping down the counter. “Always has to have the last word.”

He continues to absently wipe the counter, pushes down the worry that had risen when Dani mentioned practicing with Elliott on their own time. Dani was happy when she shared the information – she wasn't hiding information.

Kurt ignores the little voice that wonders if that's worse.

The rag slips when his phone buzzes in his pocket, startling him from his thoughts. He quickly glances around the diner to make sure he's not needed before he pulls his phone free.

Text message from Blaine:

Why does MHS only have water and juice in the vending machines? I'm pretty sure that goes against the Geneva Convention

Kurt smiles, lets out a small laugh even though he agrees with Blaine's comment.

Text message from Kurt:

The joys of public school ;)

Text message from Blaine:

Dalton had its perks

Text message from Blaine:

But MHS can't have better company and caffeine – no one would choose private school then :)

Text message from Kurt:

You're still a dork, Blaine Anderson

A loud burst of laughter has Kurt turning, slipping his phone back in his pocket as he looks across the tables. The laughter wasn't in his section, but he resigns himself to step away anyway, seeing one of his customers with a half-empty glass.

Blaine may be the love of his life, and a wonderful, wonderful distraction, but Kurt can't afford to be the inattentive waiter who doesn't get tipped.

He steps away, represses his sigh when he sees a hint of the stain still on the counter. He still has an hour on the clock; he'll get that stain after dealing with refills.

-*-*-*-

Blaine exits the theater with Tina, both tired from rehearsal. He ignores Jake's grumblings from behind him, focuses instead on the satisfaction he'd felt when they'd finished their Nationals performance without any mistakes.

“Thank goodness we're almost done with this.”

At Tina's words Blaine turns to face her. “I thought you loved Glee?”

“I do love Glee,” Tina replies with a sigh. “I don't love repeated taxing rehearsals. Don't get me wrong – I know we need it to do well at Nationals…I just wish we could get a break once in a while.”

“We're up against the best, Tina. Throat Explosion lives for practice. And they're not even our only competition.”

Tina rolls her eyes as they exit the school. “I know that Blaine. It's just been a long day and I'm sick of the same three songs.”

Blaine smiles and gives her a pat on the arm. “I thought you were a veteran performer; shouldn't you be used to repeated songs?”

Tina narrows her gaze. “Not funny, Blaine. And being used to it doesn't make it any more fun.”

“No,” Blaine smirks, “but the trophies are worth it.”

“We better get that trophy then,” Tina comments as they stop, preparing to head to their cars. “Make all this worth it.”

“That's the plan. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, okay? And remember: Glee means happiness.” Blaine heads for his car, ignores Tina's indignant and exasperated huff as he walks away.

Fifteen minutes later, Blaine pulls into the parking lot of Hummel Tires & Lube and circles to the back, parking his car. Moments later he walks in, waves a hello to the mechanics as he heads for Mr. Hummel's office.  He finds it empty, but when he turns back toward the garage floor Pete nods toward a blue minivan. Mr. Hummel stands seconds later, and Blaine makes his way to him.

“Overheated,” Burt comments with a gesture to the car, “anyway, can you go help Jim?”

Blaine nods and turns to leave when Burt stops him with a hand on his arm. “School go okay?”

Blaine smiles and ducks his head. “It was fine – well, except for the calc quiz.” He shrugs before continuing. “Never fun, but Unique and Jake were awesome in Glee.”

“You kids are talented.” There's a pause and then Burt continues. “Now. How about you really tell me about your school day?”

Blaine lets out a small laugh. “Unique and Jake really were awesome. But,” Blaine meets Burt's gaze, “they keep looking at me…like I'm going to break or something – and asking if I'm okay or if I want to talk about it.” Blaine keeps his voice steady when he continues. “I don't. At least, not at school. Not there. I just want things to be normal.”

The hand on Blaine's shoulder tightens for moment, and when he speaks Burt's voice is warm. “You're all great kids, but you're still kids, Blaine. Maybe not for long,” Burt winks, “but for a while yet.” Burt sighs, and then his voice resumes its warmth, if not its teasing. “What you're going through, it's serious. None of you should have to deal with anything like this, but you do. And they're going to ask about you because they care, Blaine, it's part of having friends. You don't have to talk about it with them either, if you don't want to. Besides, you've got that appointment with Dr. Schamp next week; hopefully she'll be able to help.”

“I hope so, too.” Blaine nods and steps away. “I'm helping Jim?”

“Mm,” Burt hums in agreement before his tone turns teasing. “You get to go under some cars.”

“Because I'm young or because I'm smaller?”

Blaine walks away to the sound of Burt's laughter.

-*-*-*-

The keys are cool under his fingers, and Kurt idly plays a few scales, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. Finished with his vocal and acting work, he's taking a break, switching focus to pure academics.

Hence the coffee.

The coffee stops dripping some time later, and Kurt steps away from the piano, heads for the kitchen. Kurt adds an extra pack of sugar to his coffee with a sigh, rolls his neck to release the tension gathered there. Annotating for hours has left his muscles cramped, and he still has work to do. Turning, he heads back to his room, sets his steaming mug on his desk as drops into his desk chair.

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] Study time!

Text message from Blaine:

So organized ;)

Text message from Blaine:

And you still have my note <3

Text message from Kurt:

It matches my décor :)

Kurt smiles, puts his phone down and picks up his book with a sigh, lets the music from his docking station drift over him. The book is dry, and Kurt knows he'll need Tylenol before he's done.

For now, he has music and coffee.

A chapter later Kurt absently notes the closing of the loft door, shakes his head when he hears Santana cursing in Spanish from the kitchen (judging from the opening and closing of cabinets). He slouches in his chair, propping his book against the ledge of his desk as the a capella chords of Hear You Me fade to a piano cover. He takes a moment to enjoy the strains of music before refocusing on his book, stretching the ache from his fingers.

He manages another chapter (four songs) before he hears steps approaching, turns as Santana enters and drops onto his bed with an exaggerated flop.

“This isn't your room, Santana.”

“I might prefer ladies but even I'm not so gay I'd copy your sense of interior design, Hummel.”

Kurt sets his book down with a sigh, turns to face Santana. “Did you need something?”

“You and the hobbit. You do that anniversary stuff, right?”

Intrigued, Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Santana. It's part of being in a relationship. Wait,” Kurt leans forward, his voice rising in excitement. “You want to do something with Dani! Romantic dinner? Oh you could take her dancing! You –”

“Hold up.” Santana sits up, his hand outstretched to stop Kurt's words. “Dani and I are not you; we might be fabulous but we're not into the whole looking disgustingly in love thing.”

“We –”

“I wasn't done. I – I care for Dani, and she'd like…something, but it's me and Dani, Hummel, not Porcelain and Hobbit.”

“Okay,” Kurt meets Santana's gaze. “Alright. Well…you know her better than I do; what does she like?” Kurt speaks again when Santana smirks. “Not that Santana. No. You want my help? Don't say what you're thinking.”

Santana rolls her eyes. “I didn't say I wanted your help, Hummel.”

“You're sitting on my bed.”

There's a pause and Kurt watches as Santana studies her nails. “Music.”

“What?”

“Music.” Santana meets Kurt's gaze. “Dani likes music.”

“Well.” Kurt smiles. “Work with that.” He speaks before Santana can voice a question. “Look Santana. You know Dani better than I do. Just think of times when she's been happy.  Times when she's smiled, laughed.” Kurt leans back, doesn't see how his smile has gone soft. “Blaine got us tickets to The Lion King for our anniversary. I got us dinner at a nice restaurant.” He startles from his memories at Santana's burst of laughter.

“You went to a fancy dinner and show. You are officially the most boring college-aged couple in this city.”

Kurt narrows his eyes. “You asked about anniversaries, Santana. If you're just going to sit there and make snide comments you can leave. I have other things going on.”

“I can see that.” Santana gestures to Kurt's desk. “Yet another reason to be glad I didn't apply to your fancy school. But really,” she eyes his books with disinterest, “all this?”

"Ive got a lot to do Santana, and I dont want to be stuck spending my weekend doing homework."

“Right.” Santana draws out the vowels, pushes aside Kurt's blankets as she stands. “Well, you have fun with all that. I'm gonna go enjoy some quality television. Enjoy your homework.”

“Go plan your anniversary date, Santana.”

A smirk and Santana leaves, Kurt shaking his head as she does. He spins back to face his desk, sighs when he sees the book lying beside his laptop. He takes a sip of coffee, winces at its tepid temperature. He still has at least another hour of reading and annotation. Kurt pulls a highlighter from his pencil cup, eyes his book with a grimace before reaching for his phone instead.

Text message from Kurt:

Santana's turning into a romantic – New York really is magical ;)

-*-*-*-

Blaine settles onto Kurt's old bed with a sigh, tired from calculus problems and other homework assignments. Relaxed in Kurt's pajamas (they really were the most comfortable clothes ever) he picks up his phone from the nightstand, smiles at his lock screen before hitting the code.

Moments later the call connects. “Hey you.” Kurt's voice rings from down the line, happiness and exhaustion vying for dominance in his tone.

“You sound tired.”

“I thought you were supposed to charm me.” Kurt's voice is light, teasing.

“I already did that; you're wearing a certain ring, after all.”

“I knew it.” Kurt lets out a dramatic sigh. “It was only a matter of time before you settled. Should I stop expecting romantic serenades, too?”

Blaine laughs. “You know me better than that.”

“Mm. After three years I'd better.”

“Of course!” Blaine hears the resolve in his own voice. “You know me better than anyone.”

“Does Sam know that?”

“Very funny. Besides,” Blaine sighs and his voice goes soft, “he keeps asking if I'm okay. They all are, actually.”

There's a pause and Blaine shifts on the bed, absently fiddling with the sheets as he waits for Kurt's reply.

“No one in Glee has ever been subtle, Blaine. But they care about you. I'm sure they're just worried.”

“But I don't want them to be!” The words are louder than he intends, and Blaine makes sure to lower his voice when he continues. “Sorry. It's just that school was where things were normal. I could ignore everything else…and now I can't.”

“Blaine.” There's a pause and Blaine closes his eyes, pictures Kurt sitting in his room, probably listening to music that masks the hustle and bustle of New York City. “Maybe that's a good thing. You don't have to tell them everything; you don't even have to tell me everything. But they're called friends for a reason.”

“I know.” Blaine shakes his head even though Kurt can't see. “I know you're right. I already talked about this with your dad earlier.” Blaine's voice drops, mumbling the next words. “Doesn't mean I have to like it, though.”

“No.” There's a pause and then Kurt's voice turns teasing. “But I think it will end up being helpful, and you know that I'm always right. Anyway,” Kurt speaks quickly, his voice ringing with delight, “my Voice instructor was impressed; he said I have a chance to sing at the end of year showcase!”

“Kurt!” Blaine sits up in excitement, the pillow against his back falling to the floor unnoticed. “That's amazing! Although I can't say I'm surprised; your singing outclasses all your classmates'.”

“You've never heard them, Blaine.”

“Doesn't matter. You're better.”

“I'm flattered with your completely unbiased opinion.”

“We've been through this. Just because I'm biased doesn't mean it's untrue.”

Blaine smiles at Kurt's ensuing laugh, shakes his head when the laughter turns into a yawn. “I knew you were tired! It's late; are you ready for bed?”

“Mm.” Kurt's voice is quiet. “You still have your iPod?”

Blaine nods before he remembers Kurt can't see him. “Yeah. It's on your end table.”

“Good. I mean, I hope you don't need it. But it can't hurt, right?”

“No.” Blaine stretches, picks up the pillow from the floor. “It reminds me of you,” Blaine fixes the covers, leans back. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. But for now, sleep, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too.” The words are automatic, and Blaine ends the call with smile before setting the phone on the nightstand and turning off the lamp.

-*-*-*-

“– finished Anderson! What did you think? That just because you're one of those homos now you can ruin this dance for us?” The pavement is hard, cold, and the words are choppy, unevenly fading in and out. There's something dark staining his shoe.

A streetlight flickers as laughter echoes, and then there's a roar. Flashes of green and white streak by and music briefly blares before the shadows grow.

He can't move, the cold seeps in, grows, and he can't move –

Blaine startles awake with a gasp, blankets tangled around his legs. He takes a moment and just breathes, carefully untwists the confining covers.

Breathe in. It's just a dream.

Breathe out. It's been years.

Sighing, Blaine grabs his iPod and earbuds from the table with a tight grip before forcing his fingers to relax. Moments later, Blaine winces at the bright square of his iPod even as the list of songs brings a smile to his face.

Breathe in. Kurt made this.

Breathe out. Kurt is safety.

Blaine lays back down and presses play.