Remind Me to Forget

Chapter 20

Blaine exits the plane with Sam, laughing when his friend impersonates the pilot as they leave and the flight attendants' smiles become a touch strained. Entering LAX, Blaine turns, taking in the crowds and hum of energy even as it adds to the nervousness thrumming in his veins.

Los Angeles is vastly different from anywhere in Ohio.

Blaine knew that before arriving, obviously, but the reality of being in Los Angeles and seeing the people (and taking some pictures to send to Kurt because really, what were they thinking?) couldn't compare to Googled pictures and YouTube videos. Granted, the majority of people in airport appeared average, businessmen and women, families probably headed for a tourist trap, travelers in sweatpants rushing to a terminal; and yet, Blaine couldn't help but notice the few (but certainly striking) non-conformists. Turning away from a man in eye-catching neon leopard print leggings, he spots another show choir across the terminal, pointedly ignores the increase of his heartbeat and his worry about the competition.

“– need some sugar, man.”

“What?” Blaine turns, offers Sam a smile.

“After that flight – I really need some sugar.”

“Oh. Well,” Blaine nods to his messenger bag, “I have some snacks in here, and –”

Sam nudges Blaine's shoulder as he interrupts, “I got some chocolate in mine – I just wish the bus was closer. Why does this airport have to be so big?”

Blaine laughs, opens his mouth to reply when a shout of his name has him turning away. His smile widens when he sees Burt waving, further up and on the opposite side of the terminal. Blaine speeds his steps, hurries to where Burt stands before being pulled in for a hug.

“Hey, your flight okay?”

“Hm,” Blaine hums in response, stepping back, “it was fine, and yours?”

“Dulles is always hectic,” Burt adds as he shakes his head, “and security was as bad as usual,” Burt adds a quiet laugh, “but I made it, and Im lookin' forward to hearing you guys sing after a week of politics.”

Blaine smiles, “I think we can handle that.”

“Burt!” Sam's shout has Blaine jerking back a step, ducking to hide his flushed face even as Burt turns with him to face Sam. “Sorry,” Sam pants as he reaches them, “Mr. Schue wanted me to tell you that there was some issue with the bus. I guess we're going to hang here for a while.”

Blaine glances around the airport – the colorful crowd is more than enough to keep him entertained, but the terminal isn't high on his “places to see” list.

“He say how long it'll be?”

“Uh,” Blaine continues to face away, keeping his amusement at Sam's response hidden even as Sam continues, “I don't – um, no?”

“Well,” Burt offers a smile, “how about we go find out?”

Sam nods and Blaine steps back, moving to follow the two toward where Mr. Schue is standing, talking with a man in a car rental uniform.

They're feet away when Blaine hears a shout, turns and sees Carole approaching from the baggage claim with a smile, suitcases rolling behind her. In front of him, Burt shifts, moving to Carole and giving her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Carole reciprocates, murmuring about slow teens and the tolls of disembarking a plane with high schoolers.

They return moments later, Carole pulling Blaine into a hug despite having sat a row in front of him on the plane.

Carole's then pulled away into discussion with Burt and Mr. Schue – Blaine shakes his head when he hears something about a mixup and waiting for ‘the right' bus. He steps away, takes the time to wander with Sam – who's happily munching on a Milky Way – taking in the bustle that is LAX.

Text message from Blaine:

[photo] I didn't know they made hair dye that vivid

Text message from Kurt:

The blue is complimenting his construction orange shirt – it's an interesting combination ;-)

Text message from Kurt:

Aren't you exited to experience the culture outside of Ohio?

Text message from Blaine:

I thought people outside of Ohio would be a bit more fashionable

Text message from Kurt:

Sadly, fashion sense isn't innate for everyone…

Blaine laughs at Kurt's response, manages half a reply before a hand claps his shoulder, startling him and turning his response into an illegible mesh of words thanks to auto-correct.

“– we can head over.” Blaine takes in the end of Sam's sentence, releases a small sigh of relief that his friend didn't notice his momentary lapse of control. Moments later he's following Sam, meeting up with the rest of New Directions and exiting the airport.

Outside, he pauses when he sees the uniform-clad members of Throat Explosion entering a bus two cars down. He ignores the smirk aimed toward him, pushes away the onset of nerves brought on at the reminder of the competition, of the legacy he's expected to help uphold.

With a slight shake of his head, Blaine steps onto the bus, takes a seat next to Sam and smiles when Tina jumps in excitement, squealing that they've finally made it. Blaine laughs and relaxes into the seat as Burt and Carole take the seats in front of him, waving and smiling.

Mr. Schue enters last, quickly – and audibly – counting heads before nodding to the driver.

“I can't believe we're actually in California; finally we get to go somewhere cool for Glee.”

“New York wasn't cool?” Blaine feels his eyebrows raise even as he questions Tina.

“It's different. We're in California and –”

“Alright guys!” Mr. Schue's shout interrupts Tina's reply and Blaine turns to face the front of the bus, takes in his director's stance before tuning out the ensuing speech. He shifts his gaze to the window, watches as scenery he's sure he's seen in movies passes by, the bus's speed slowed by traffic. He focuses on the buildings and signs, stretches his hands from the clenched grasp brought on by the reminders of legacy and hope, encouragement wrapped in remembrance.

He breaks free of his thoughts when the bus erupts into shouts, high-fives shared before Sam starts singing.

Blaine takes a deep breath and turns, joining.

-*-*-*-

Kurt ducks his head as he walks down the hall, hiding his laughter as he hears the echoes of Ms. July's evisceration of yet another student. He turns the corner and leaves the tirade behind, nodding when he sees a classmate a few feet in front of him. He passes a few more classmates – and a stranger wearing a truly awful combination of checked pants with a brightly printed shirt – before leaving the building, stepping into muggy heat of a New York afternoon. He pauses beside a modern statue – a swirl of twisted metal – and pulls out his iPod, hooking up his headphones and humming along to the Some Nights/We Are Young mashup.

The walk to the café isn't far, but the mugginess clings to Kurt's skin, and he grimaces as he feels himself start to sweat. Minutes later he enters the café, smiling as the scent of coffee drifts across the blessedly air-conditioned interior.

“I'm not late!” Dani's shout startles Kurt, and he turns in line, spinning and causing one of his headphones to fall out of his ear.

“No,” Kurt draws out the word, taking in Dani's flustered appearance, hair falling out of a bun even as she reshoulders her guitar. “We just said we'd meet after your shift – I wasn't going to think you were late for another twenty minutes.”

“Oh.” Dani smiles then, bright and honest. “Well I'm still not late. Anyway, I'm gonna go get us a table.” Dani turns, takes two steps before bouncing back and pulling some bills from her apron. “Since you're getting something can you grab me a drink? I ate at the diner but I may have rushed to get here…”

“Keep it,” Kurt replies even as he pushes her hand away. “It's not like a Cherry Coke is going to ruin my bank account.”

Dani smiles, pulling him in for a surprise, tight hug before stepping away again.

Kurt steps up to the counter a few moments later and places his order – an iced mocha and turkey panini, plus Dani's soda – before turning to scan the café, finally spotting Dani seated at a table near the back, tapping the table in an unheard beat.

He grabs his order once it's placed on the counter, and moves to join Dani at the table by the window, taking the seat across from her and sliding her the requested cup of soda.

“Thanks!” She takes a quick sip before leaning forward, “So I feel like we haven't talked since you got back – opposite shifts suck.”

“We worked together on Wednesday.”

“That,” Dani comments as she fiddles with her straw, “does not count.”

“Okay?” Kurt takes a bit of his panini, keeping his eyes on Dani to show that he's still paying attention.

“You went and proposed, Kurt. And the most we got was a dreamy look and a ‘he said yes' at rehearsal.”

“Santana doesn't –” Kurt starts to respond, to explain how Santana had threatened if she heard one more word about ‘the nauseating romance' she couldn't be held responsible for her actions.

Kurt isn't inclined to test her, either.

“I know,” Dani interrupts, “which is why we're having this lunch date.”

Swallowing his bite of panini, Kurt thinks over Dani's comment. He loves talking about Blaine, feels himself start to smile at the memory of his proposal and Blaine's surprise.

“Aright,” Kurt takes a slow sip from his mocha, “what do you want to know?”

“That's your question?” Dani gives him an incredulous look, takes another sip of soda before continuing. “You know me – tell me everything.”

Kurt does.

He finishes his panini, and is down to the last third of his mocha before he feels satisfied with the story, pausing after telling Dani about Blaine's repeated awe at the ring, his own joy at being with Blaine, sharing space.

“– else going on?”

“Hm, what?” Kurt glances up at Dani's question, takes in her relaxed pose, seeming at odds with the questioning look in her eyes.

“That last bit, it was different. Don't get me wrong,” she smiles, leaning forward, “I love that you surprised him and you're introducing me first thing when Blaine comes to town, but the ending of your story wasn't nearly as sweet as the beginning. So,” she takes a quick sip of her soda, “what else is going on to make you look less than indescribably happy.”

“I am happy,” Kurt counters, leaning forward himself.

“I didn't say you weren't,” Dani adds, raising her hands to emphasize the point, “I just said that you weren't as happy when you passed the main part of your story.”

“Oh.” Kurt looks down at the table, drops his hands to rest on the bench. “I am happy,” he repeats, catching her eye, “but being there…it's different, seeing the nightmares.”

“I'm sure,” Dani's voice has dropped, quieter but just as strong as before. “But you were there. That counts. And you two certainly looked happy in those pictures you showed me.”

Kurt smiles, “We are. I just – I worry, you know?”

“Mm – one of the many wonderful side-effects of loving someone.”

“Right.”

“Well,” Dani smirks, “at least the perks seriously outweigh the disadvantages. I mean, Santana certainly knows how to –”

“Dani!” Kurt's admonishing words interrupt the sentence and he narrows his eyes when Dani doubles over with laughter. “You've been spending too much time with your girlfriend.”

“I think we can both agree that there's no such thing.” Dani offers a smile before pulling her cup closer. “Now, I'm going to go get a refill. What do you want?”

“I don't –”

“We still have some time, and you haven't even told me about how Blaine's feeling with nationals. I'm guessing either really excited or really nervous, given the amount of texts you've gotten. So,” Dani stands with her cup in her right hand, “do you want another mocha or a soda?”

“A soda.” The statement comes out as a question, but Dani's by the counter before Kurt can think of a better reply.

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] Dani's plying me with food and caffeine to get me to share everything about my visit

Text message from Blaine:

Well, I can't fault her for technique ;-)

Text message from Blaine:

[photo] Our hotel – at least it looks decent.

Text message from Kurt:

It does! I'm a little jealous…

Text message from Blaine:

Don't be – I don't think I'll be spending too much time in the room…

Text message from Kurt:

??

Text message from Blaine:

We have rehearsal and then we're going to check out the stage, I think.

Text message from Kurt:

Well, relaxation is important too, and I've heard some rehearsals – you're amazing!!

Text message from Blaine:

I'm not sure relaxation is part of the plan, but I'll keep that in mind! :)

Dani's return moments later interrupts his reply, and he puts down his phone as she sets a cup in front of Kurt before reclaiming her seat. “Is he in L.A. already? Or are those,” Dani nods toward where Kurt's phone is flashing on the table, “just nerves before he gets on the plane?”

“They're in L.A.,” Kurt answers, “Blaine was just telling me about the more…colorful visitors at LAX.”

“Tell me he took pictures.”

After flipping through the pictures Blaine had texted, Dani hands back Kurt's phone, the conversation shifts to the upcoming national's performance. Kurt describes the set list in detail, happy to gush about Blaine's talent before he releases a sigh.

“He doesn't see it, though.”

“What?”

“Blaine,” Kurt gestures to his phone, “he can perform – even when he's stressed and nervous he can pull out a performance – but he gets nervous before it. And it's bigger this time, since it's nationals.”

“Everyone gets nervous before a performance.”

“I guess so.”

“Please,” Dani laughs, “no matter how much anyone practices, there's always that bit of nervousness before a performance, especially when it's big. But it sounds like Blaine's been practicing like crazy, and I've seen the videos – your group has talent. Just remind him of that.”

“You make everything sound so simple.” Kurt says before he takes a sip of soda, thinking over Dani's words.

“Oh, I know it's not, but it makes me feel better.”

“It is a nice thought.”

Silence reigns for a moment, and then Dani leans forward. “Speaking of nice thoughts…Elliott and I came up with a possible new song for our performance while you were romancing in Ohio.”

Kurt takes in Dani's easy smile, the relaxed set of her shoulders, and smiles in reply. “Do I know this song?”

“Of course,” Dani adds with a wink, “but no more clues until rehearsal tonight.”

“You want to add a song to the set for tomorrow and not tell me for another five hours.”

“Yup.” Kurt shakes his head in amusement as Dani pops the ‘p' and leans back in her chair.

“Fine. I guess I'll hear this mysterious song after my shift. How was work, anyway? Am I going to need even more caffeine? Is that really why you got me a drink?”

Dani eyes Kurt's cup for a moment before offering a smirk. “Maybe. It wasn't bad when I left but I heard Gunther on the phone. I think you're getting an after-show tonight.”

“Great.” Kurt briefly closes his eyes before taking a long sip of his soda.

Apparently he needs it.

-*-*-*-

Blaine gratefully drinks from the water bottle Sam had tossed him, pausing to take a breath after. Across the room, he sees Marley stretching along with Unique, Ryder downing water before wiping his face with his towel while Burt and Carole talk quietly near the door.

“Alright guys!” Blaine turns, watches as Mr. Schue moves to the center of the room. “That was good work, but we're going to need everything to be ready for tomorrow. I know you guys can win this, you've all put in the work that's needed, but our competitors have been putting in hours, too, so let's take it again.”

“Alright guys, let's do this!” Sam's yell has Blaine smiling even as he feels the rush of nerves at the reminder of their reason for being in Los Angeles, he shakes his head to push the nerves away and takes his spot near Artie.

“One! Two! Three! Four!” Blaine counts off the beats that accompany Mr. Schue's words, continues counting as the introduction to the song starts. Moments later he's lost in the performance, dancing and ignoring the burn in his muscles. He's tense even as he takes his seat at the piano, hitting the notes perfectly despite the tremble in his hands. Moving to rejoin the group afterwards he makes sure to keep his legs from locking, remembers the warnings about fainting and mistakes during performances.

There's a pause after they finish – on key – before there's a smattering of applause and Blaine sees Burt and Mr. Schue (but not Carole) clapping by the door, along with a hotel worker who catches Blaine's eye and offers a smile before stepping out into the hall.

“That was awesome!” Sam offers Blaine a high-five with the comment.

“It was a good performance,” Blaine agrees in a rush, working to catch his breath, “I think we got a bit off-tempo during Just a Dream, though.”

“Huh?” Sam's question is distracted and he's gone before Blaine can reply, pulled away by a laughing Ryder.

Blaine shakes his head and moves to reclaim his water bottle, downing the rest of its contents before moving around the room, smiling and accepting one-armed hugs and comments about the routine.

Text message from Blaine:

[photo] Rehearsal is tiring.

Text message from Kurt:

That's why it's rehearsal ;)

Text message from Kurt:

I do like the sweaty frat-boy look - A+ for you!

Text message from Blaine:

You always manage to find the bright side...

Text message from Kurt:

I try my best!

“Looked exhausting.”

“Mm,” Blaine nods and accepts the water bottle that accompanies Burt's comment and returning his phone to his pocket. “It's still fun.”

“Glad to hear it,” Burt rubs his hand over his head before continuing. “Carole said you guys sounded great too.” Blaine looks up at the mention of Carole, moving the water bottle to his left hand. “She just had to step out for a bit,” Blaine takes in Burt's lowered voice, the rapidly blinking eyes, and remembers Kurt's last visit home.

Blaine nods, showing his understanding even as his shoulders drop at the reminder of what they've lost.

“Music can be draining,” he replies after a moment, “but it can be comforting, too.”

“Draining and hard work,” Burt shakes his head even as he offers Blaine a smile, “but yeah – I guess something has to make it worth it. Now, how're you doin' kid? And don't try to distract me – we only got a few minutes before you're back to working.”

Blaine ducks his head until he feels his blush recede, and then looks up to see Burt smiling even as he leans against the wall, waiting.

Blaine offers a shrug in response before responding – he won't ignore his future father-in-law.

-*-*-*-

“Did you order the pizza, Hummel?”

Kurt looks up from his Kindle at Santana's question, sees her sitting on the arm of the chair Dani's taken. “No, Santana, I figured it would better for us all to rehearse on empty stomachs.”

“That would explain why I'm still hungry.”

“You have chips.”

“And they're good chips, too.” Dani's reply interrupts Santana's intended reply, and Kurt offers her a quick smile in thanks.

“I still want that pizza,” Santana grumbles, but the comment stays half-hearted as she leans further into Dani, and Kurt looks away.

The loft door opens moments later, and Elliott sets his guitar down before joining Kurt on the sofa.

“Did I interrupt something?”

“No –”

“Hummel's decided to starve us,” Santana interrupts, “although he claims to have ordered some mythical pizza.”

Kurt narrows his eyes and leans forward in annoyance.

“So tomorrow,” Elliott interrupts, pointedly ignoring Kurt's raised brows, “I know we planned our performance on Tuesday, but I was thinkin' we could make one addition to our set list.”

“We have to!” Dani adds around mouthful of chip. “Sorry,” Kurt eyes her swallow with a critical eye. “But if it's the one that –”

“Of course it is,” Elliott cuts in with a wink.

“Kurt! Kurt we have to do this. Elliott and I were talking while you were in Ohio and it sounded okay but we were talking after practice the other day – after you and Santana did that duet – and that's what was missing. Kurt we have to do Smooth Criminal.”

“I already schooled the criminal chipmunk with that song –”

“Criminal chipmunk?”

“It's better not to ask,” Kurt replies to Elliott's question – Sebastian may have redeemed himself but he would never be one of Kurt's favorite people – takes another sip of water to control his voice,  “but Smooth Criminal could be fun,” Kurt pauses, thinking over the lyrics and tone, “we could do a run through it. We all know the song,” Kurt adds with a smile when he realizes that he doesn't feel any worry, despite knowing that Elliott and Dani worked on their own, “but we still need to rehearse if we're adding it to the set.”

“I was hoping you'd say that,” Elliott says as takes another chip, “because the guitar,” Elliott shares a glance with Dani, “is amazing.”

“Alright,” Kurt takes another handful of chips from the bowl, “I'm sure it'll be great.”

“Of course it will be,” Santana adds, leaning forward, “not even Hummel can screw up Michael Jackson.”

“Thanks, Santana.” Kurt keeps his tone dry, knows Santana's still annoyed at him for taking the last of the coffee before leaving for class. He gives a slight shake of his head to stop the question he knows Elliott's poised to ask, turning to Dani instead. “So this amazing guitar – who's better?”

“We'll decide that later,” Elliott quickly replies, even as Dani's eyes widen. “Besides,” Elliott turns to face Kurt, “I want to know about your fiancé's adventures in the Sunshine State.”

“You're trying to get me to lose my appetite so I'll forget about the pizza that's still not here, aren't you.”

Elliott ignores Santana's comment, continuing to look to Kurt.

“He's nervous,” Kurt shrugs, “It's a big competition.” Kurt glances over, sees Dani distracting Santana with sly glances and whispered words before looking away – he's grateful Dani's distracting Santana, but he doesn't want to watch. He thinks of Blaine instead, and keeps his eyes on Elliott while answering his question.

A knock at the door interrupts Kurt's comments about the New Directions' rehearsal, and he moves to answer it while ignoring Santana's exclamation of ‘finally' from across the room.

Minutes later with the pizza paid for, Kurt joins his bandmates at the table, setting the pizza boxes in the center. “You could have at least gotten some plates, Santana.”

“Your pizza took too long, I'm not moving more than I have to.”

“It's three feet!”

Dani rests her hand on Kurt's arm, keeping him from shouting again even as she sets four plates on the table.

“Pizza smells awesome, but y'all better eat fast – I want to get through some songs!”

Kurt smiles at Dani's excitement, huffing a breath of laughter before taking his seat and grabbing two slices of pizza even as Santana takes another from the box.

“Don't judge me, Hummel,” Santana comments as she chews, “I said I was hungry.”

Kurt shakes his head, ignoring the barb and taking a sip of water. “And this is how I know you're better off than me,” Dani comments as she passes him some napkins, “your napkins aren't from restaurants.”

“You're all class, Dani.” Elliott says in response, “I'm guessing all your napkins have logos?”

“Of course,” Dani replies with a smile and wink, “I'm all for saving money where I can.”

“And the five dollars is better spent on…”

“Food.” Dani answers Elliott's question, “Always food.”

Kurt laughs, and takes another bite of his pizza.

Text message from Kurt:

[photo] Late but here – some pizza is better than none, right?

Text message from Blaine:

It's New York pizza, I think by definition it's ‘better' ;)

Text message from Kurt:

You're in L.A. I'm sure you'll find something delicious when it's your dinner time, too

Text message from Blaine:

We're on our own, according to our schedule

Text message from Blaine:

Dinner's in two hours…is that your way of saying to try something authentic instead of sticking with a chain?

Text message from Kurt:

You're in L.A. – take advantage of non-Ohio food :p

“Stop sexting your boy,” Kurt jumps at Santana's comment. “I'd like to keep my dinner down, and I thought we were all here for practice – not for me to see you looking like some R-rated Hallmark card.”

Kurt rolls his eyes but puts his phone back in his pocket anyway, mumbling that they weren't sexting before standing to stack the dishes.

Time for rehearsal.

-*-*-*-

Blaine stays against the wall as Jean-Baptiste and the rest of Throat Explosion leave the auditorium – the confrontation earlier had left Blaine scrambling, making cliché comments to cover his rapid breathing and shaky voice. The other choir's words echo even after the doors close.

Everyone knows you're ‘that' show choir.

They are.

They're the show choir that's followed with whispers and pointed fingers, the show choir that, despite being the reigning champions, receives more comments about their history and membership than musicality on the blogs.

They're bound to a ghost, and the entire show-choir world knows it.

Blaine stays still, ignoring the continued murmurs of his fellow glee members.

Breathe in. They're gone.

Breathe out. They didn't know him.

Breathe in. We'll win this.

Breathe out. We have to.

Shaking out his nerves (mostly) Blaine moves back to the center of the stage, raising his hands into a clap to get everyone facing him.

“Guys. Guys! Look, they said they'd give us three minutes.” Blaine chooses to ignore the fact that they have two hours before Jean-Baptiste's ‘scheduled time' in the hall, they have to make curfew anyway, “So…we should –”

“You're just gonna let them do this?”

Jake's reply – more shout than question – has Blaine turning, finding the sophomore standing by Ryder.

“He's not letting them do anything,” Sam cuts off Blaine's planned reply, stepping in front of Blaine and holding Finn's picture in a tight grasp. “But we don't need to stay here to win this thing. Mr. Schue was right earlier – we have been practicing hard, and we've earned this. We just have to show that to everyone tomorrow.”

Blaine stays silent while Sam speaks, taking in the words from his friend. He wonders, sometimes, how it is that his fellow Glee members struggle with basic communication, or speeches, or preparation, and yet, when it's most needed, Glee always meets the challenge.

Just as Sam is doing now.

At his sides, his hands clench against his thighs.

Sam's his best friend, and Blaine is glad Sam is finding the right words, but a part of him can't help but feel pushed aside.

Glee may have voted him the ‘new Rachel' but Sam was the one chosen to lead by Mr. Schue. Sam had found him earlier, gone into detail about his worries for Nationals and Mr. Schue's response, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders and his determination to lead Glee to another trophy in honor of Finn.

Blaine had assured him that Sam was doing the best he could, that there was zero chance of Sam letting anyone down.

As Sam continues to talk Blaine forces his hands to relax, pulls his phone from his pocket.

Text message from Blaine:

I think Mr. Schue gave Sam some tips for his speech.

Text message from Kurt:

What?

Text message from Blaine:

Throat Explosion interrupted us in the hall…Sam's reminding everyone that we're in this together

Text message from Blaine:

He brought Finn's picture, too, to remind us who we're singing for.

Blaine looks out at the rest of Glee as he waits for Kurt's reply, suppresses a wince when his phone remains silent for longer than necessary. He startles when the message finally does arrive, the vibration of the phone mirroring his jolt.

Text message from Kurt:

You're singing for you. In remembrance of Finn, sure, but he was just as happy performing for an audience of two as for a theatre of guests at competition. Sing to remember him, but don't make it the only reason you're singing.

Sam finishes speaking to small cheer, and Blaine slips his phone back in his pocket – without a reply – and joins in, hoping no one noticed his texting. He gets pulled in for a half, one-armed hug with Sam and Tina before stepping back, heading for the door.

The group leaves the hall and Blaine falls into the procession, absently noting the landmarks and bright lights on their walk back to the hotel.

“I still can't believe they just took over the stage!”

Blaine turns at Tina's comment, offering her his arm as they fall into step. “It's how they work. But it's not that bad,” he hastens to continue when he sees her scowl, “it's not like we were actually going to rehearse our performance, and the hotel is more comfortable.”

“That's not the point.”

“I know. But we would have had to leave soon anyway,” he adds, speeding his steps a bit, “we have curfew in ten minutes.”

Tina sighs and detangles their arms as they approach a crosswalk, reaching into her bag to pull out her phone. “Sometimes, I hate it when you're right.”

Blaine ducks his head to hide his slight smile and takes out his phone to snap a few more pictures to send to Kurt before the light changes. He manages a few shots before the group moves, but he stays toward the back, behind Unique and Artie.

Minutes later they arrive in the parking lot in front of their hotel, and Blaine blinks against the brightness of the additional lights. Ahead of him, Tina's laugh carries across the lot and he looks up to see her leaning on Sam's shoulder. He moves forward, debating making a comment

“Hey Mitch! If you don't have ‘em –”

“Make sure you hold ‘em Mitch. Cover his mouth, too. Can't have him crying, now.”

Blaine can't move. His arms stay held fast in an unrelenting grip even as his breath is pushed out of him. Feet away, the street light flickers, and the darkness grows as the pain keeps Blaine still.

He can't breathe, either.

“– with two minutes to spare! Ha!” The shout and accompanying hand on his shoulder has Blaine jumping, spinning to see Ryder standing next to him, looking contrite. “Whoa, sorry. I thought you heard me. You okay?”

“What?” Blaine questions, even as he scans the parking lot.

“Are you okay?”

Ryder's question registers and Blaine stops his search, turning to meet Ryder's eye. “Oh. Yeah, I'm fine – just thinkin' about tomorrow.”

“Big day,” Ryder agrees, “and I heard Mr. Schue say wakeup is at six.”

Blaine hums in agreement, but a yell from Kitty interrupts his reply – Ryder's needed for a ‘new to Glee' group photo. Blaine assures Ryder it's fine as he runs off, leaving Blaine to continue the walk to the lobby alone.

Breathe in. It's not the same Mitch.

Breathe out. It can't be.

Breathe in. They have no reason to be in California.

Breathe out. Mitch is a common name.

Entering behind Tina (Artie was still taking pictures with Kitty's direction) Blaine pauses by one of the overstuffed chairs, taking in the other patrons. It can't be the same Mitch, he knows it's someone else, but Blaine still can't stop himself from looking.

Mr. Schue and Burt stand a few feet away, talking; there's an old man waiting for the elevator; a family of six arguing about luggage, while their dog barks in its carrier; a woman in a business suit checking in at the counter; and next to her – two twenty-something guys in t-shirts and jeans.

Blaine feels himself relax as he takes in their dark skin and collegiate shirts, ducks his head as they walk past and he overhears Mitch being told to hurry up.

Blaine looks around the lobby again and starts walking when Mr. Hummel catches his gaze, motioning for him to come over. Mr. Schue steps away moments later, and Blaine meets Burt with a smile.

“Have a good walk?” Burt accompanies the question with slight nod to the lobby doors, though his tone lets Blaine know he doesn't believe everyone just went for a walk.

“Yeah, there's a lot to see.”

“Mm,” Burt agrees, “see anything special?”

Blaine stays silent for a moment, debating what to share. “Not really,” Blaine shrugs, “although we did run into Throat Explosion.”

“Ah,” the drawn out word is accompanied with raised brows, and Burt runs a hand over his head before continuing, “how was the competition?”

Blaine thinks back over the conversation with Jean-Baptiste – You're that show choir – remembers the confidence of the other group, even those that stayed silent emanated an easy strength, dismissing the New Directions as competitors.

“They're good.”

“You guys are, too.”

Burt's words are quiet, but Blaine hears them even over the din of the lobby, feels some of the tension drain from his shoulders.

“Thanks, I – we try to be.”

“Well your ‘tries' are pretty damn amazing, and I'd like to think I picked up a thing or two over the years.”

Blaine smiles and follows Burt as they head for elevator. “You know more than you think.”

Burt laughs as he presses the button before turning back to Blaine. “You wouldn't be lying to an old man, would you, Anderson?”

“No,” Blaine huffs a laugh as they enter the elevator, along with a preoccupied Artie and Kitty, “Kurt would call you on anything not true and it would be traced back to me.”

“I knew you were a quick learner. You'll handle marriage just fine, kid.”

Blaine feels his cheeks heat and ducks his head. “I'll take that compliment.”

“You should,” Burt comments as they arrive at their floor, “marriage isn't easy.”

“But it's worth it.”

“Every day,” Burt agrees, stopping in front of what Blaine assumes is his room, “even when they need their space.”

“Oh,” Blaine takes a moment and thinks over Carole's absence from the lobby, “is everything okay?”

“It will be,” Burt replies with a smile, “she just needed a bit of breather. Don't worry – she's joining me for room checks, and we're both looking forward to you blowing away the competition tomorrow.”

“We'll certainly try.”

“Good. Now, you're sharing with Sam, right?” At Blaine's nod he continues, “You're two doors down.”

“Thanks,” Blaine turns, intent on his room, when a hand on his shoulder stops him. He steps back, offers Burt a questioning glance.

“You need something, you let me or Carole know, okay?”

“Yeah,” Blaine focuses on the room number, takes in the glint from the hallway lights. “You'll be the first.”

“Alright then, go get some sleep. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow.”

-*-*-*-

Kurt refills the water glasses on the coffee table before dropping onto the sofa next to Elliott and grabbing a few chips from the bowl still sitting in the center. Singing – performing – is exhausting, even when it's with friends. Across from him, Santana perches on the arm of Dani's chair, leaning over to murmur in her girlfriend's ear and Kurt quickly glances away.

“That was some nice voice work, earlier.”

“Thanks,” Kurt smiles before taking a sip of water, “I'll be sure to let my voice instructor know.”

“You should,” Elliott replies with a wink, “I'm sure the old man would enjoy the validation.”

Kurt can't hold in his laugh, imagining the face of his proud (talented, respected, but so, so proud) instructor if he said his bandmate – who isn't even a student – was impressed with his vocals.

“Hey!” Dani's shout interrupts his laughter, and Kurt turns to see her leaning forward in her chair, intent. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing,” Kurt replies, getting his laughter under control, “really. Just a funny thought.”

“Please spare us from your sense of humor,” Santana comments, “I'm not in the mood to pretend to be amused.”

Kurt shoots her a glare. “You know –”

“So we're adding Smooth Criminal to the list, right? I mean, it was too awesome to not play.”

“Of course we are,” Dani agrees with Elliott's comment, leaning forward in her chair, “It's not up for discussion.”

“And here I thought we were a democratic band.”

“We still are,” Elliott says with a wink, “and Dani democratically agreed with my fabulous assessment.”

“Right.” Kurt shakes his head in amusement before replying, “Fine. But I seem to remember you two battling for a certain solo; who's getting that?”

Kurt leans back as Elliott and Dani begin to bicker, pulling out his phone to check for the message he'd received during practice.

Text message from Blaine:

Artie put on some ‘cinematic masterpiece' that has me questioning his admittance to film school.

Text message from Kurt:

Artie's always had a unique sense of taste.

Text message from Kurt:

Talk with Sam instead?

Text message from Blaine:

He was so stressed about everything that he put in his earplugs and fell asleep a half hour ago.

Kurt sits back with a sigh at the reminder of Sam's stress, torn between sympathy for his friend and confusion at why Sam was the one getting pep talks from Mr. Schue, acting as leader of the New Directions.

He shakes his head, takes another sip of water before typing out his reply.

Text message from Kurt:

Well, it may be earlier for you, but sleep is never a bad thing…

Text message from Blaine:

Is that your way of telling me to go sleep?

Text message from Kurt:

It's a suggestion ;-)

“Everything okay in sunny L.A.?”

Kurt looks up at Elliott's question, “Yeah, well, mostly.” Kurt offers with a shrug. “He's nervous – understandably – but…he's worried, too; he thinks Mr. Schue doesn't trust him right now.”

“Does he?”

Kurt thinks over Blaine's comments, runs through memories of Glee. “I – I don't know. He should,” Kurt feels his jaw tense, takes a breath and forces himself to relax, “Blaine's a natural leader – he likes helping others – I don't…I'm not there, but it just doesn't make sense that Mr. Schue wouldn't talk with him about this.”

Elliott stays silent for a moment, leaning back on the cushions and bringing up his right leg, bending it so his foot rests under his thigh.

“Don't take this the wrong way,” Elliott even raises his hands in surrender, “but are you sure you're not just reading too much into this?”

Kurt feels indignation rise, opens his mouth to retort before pausing and taking time to think over Elliott's words.

Text message from Blaine:

Well I know better than to ignore your suggestions – I'll try and get some sleep.

Text message from Blaine:

Love you! <3

It still doesn't make sense, Mr. Schue talking to Sam. It doesn't, and Kurt accepts the bite of anger with a small sigh.

But anger won't help anything.

And, he knows he's biased toward Blaine – he always has been – but despite the shifting roles in the New Directions, he never thought Blaine would be pushed aside. And yet, he should have, given the volatile nature of Glee club where the only consistencies were music and friends. Kurt knows if he had heard the same thing and it had happened to anyone but Blaine, Kurt knows he'd accept it as a part of Glee, feel pride at the knowledge that Sam has gained confidence and grown as a leader.

Kurt huffs and grabs some more chips.

Text message from Kurt:

Sending you sweet dreams – I love you, too!

“So is this a ‘I'm annoyed at you' silence or a ‘you're a genius' silence?”

Kurt looks up at Elliott's question, sets his phone aside. “Genius is stretching it, don't you think?”

Elliott smirks.

“Alright boys,” Santana's voice carries across the small space, and Kurt suppresses a wince as he hears the slyness in her tone, “you two just cuddling or are we gonna go over some songs?”

“You actually want to practice more?” The words come across more statement than question.

“I want to make sure you're not going to ruin this duet; you were iffy earlier and I can't have you bringin' me down.”

Kurt narrows his eyes but stays silent.

“I don't think your neighbors would appreciate a concert this late.”

Dani's comment has Kurt ducking his head to hide his smile, “They wouldn't, and after the complaints about Rachel's early morning warm-ups we can't afford any more calls.”

“And here I thought this was ‘the city that never sleeps'.”

“That's just for the tourists, Santana.” Elliott replies with a smile, leaning forward.

“Fine. But if we're done with practice I have other plans for the rest of the night.”

“Please Santana,” Kurt groans, “do not go into detail.”

“I won't,” Santana replies, glancing to Dani while setting her hand on her thigh, “but only because that would take time away from our plans.”

“And that's my cue to leave.” Elliott stands, grabbing his guitar from where it stands by the door.

He's gone within minutes, and then Kurt stands alone in the living room, Santana and Dani having left in a rush of giggles and clicking heels.

The emptiness echoes and Kurt takes a moment to ponder the change before slowly moving around the living room, picking up the now-discarded cups of water and bowls of potato chips.

Of course he's left with the cleanup.

Luckily it's an easy fix, and he finishes quickly before heading for his room.

It may be a Friday, but he still has homework.

-*-*-*-

Blaine rolls over again, thankful his roommates are heavy sleepers as he pulls out his cell phone to check the time.

1:17 A.M.

Everyone knows you're that show choir.

Blaine can't get the words out of his head. They've combined with his worries for the next day, fears of missteps and missed keys, of letting down people he respects. He knows they have more rehearsal the next day, knows Mr. Schue will work them non-stop, offering critiques and feedback.

It doesn't help.

The New Directions are the reigning national champions, and regardless of the comments about them on the show-choir blogs, they have worked for their place. The hours of rehearsal and practice have to count for something.

Blaine wants to prove Throat Explosion wrong almost as much as he wants to not let anyone else down.

And now, hours before competition, he can't sleep.

Earlier, he'd worried about nightmares and secretly had been grateful for Artie's heaving sleeping habits and Sam's earplugs. He still is – he doesn't expect his nightmares to vanish, even if he is in L.A. – although now he simply wishes he could fall asleep.

Blaine sighs as he carefully gets up from the bed, using the glow of streetlamps (visible even through the closed blinds) to get to his bag and pull out his iPod.

Wrapped in blankets moments later, Blaine closes his eyes, focuses on the music softly playing through his headphones. The playlist hasn't kept more nightmares at bay, but hopefully it will help lull him to sleep in the first place.

He can't afford to lose more sleep.

He can't make a mistake during competition; the New Directions deserve to win again, to keep the legacy Mr. Schue discussed.

Blaine moves his right hand until his fingers rest on the ring Kurt gave him, takes comfort from the metal, and wills himself to sleep.