Chapter 3

With classes done for the day the halls are mostly empty, but there are a few students around as Blaine heads for the choir room. At the end of hall, Coach Sylvester scowls when she catches Blaine's gaze. He looks away as Sam turns from a side hall and catches his attention with waving hands. Reaching Blaine's side, Sam slows his steps and aims for casual. “So…what're you doing for ‘change' week?”

Blaine takes a moment to gather his thoughts. Another restless night and the knowledge of his mother's impending arrival have left Blaine tired.

“I was thinking about Chasing the Sun because –” Blaine pauses and looks at Sam's earnest face. “You don't have a song, do you.” It isn't phrased as a question; Blaine already knows the answer.

“No.” Sam shrugs. “I've got til Friday. I'll think of something.”

Blaine laughs as they enter the choir room. They quickly take their seats as Mr. Schue claps his hands together in an attempt to get everyone's attention.

“Alright guys.” Mr Schue pauses, waiting until the rest of the room is silent. “The performances have been decent so far this week, but I want to remind those of you who haven't performed yet to really reach. Change is about more than just a new school year or event.”

The Glee director steps closer to the chairs, moving his arms and gesturing around the room. “It's about embracing the new – letting go of old troubles. Moving on. So don't go the safe route, guys. Each of you is going to have to give one-hundred and ten percent. I expect you to work as much – if not more – in Glee as you would in your other classes –”

Blaine gives an internal sigh of relief when Mr. Schue's speech is interrupted by Tins's raised hand.

“Yes Tina?”

“I love Glee, Mr. Schue. But Glee isn't a class. It doesn't affect our GPA. It's a club, just like cheerleading or yearbook committee or Student Council. And we'll all work hard, Mr. Schue, but we've been working hard, every time we meet. I just don't think it's fair that you're saying we should be doing more.

“I already put more time in Glee than I do for my other school clubs, and I don't get the recognition here I do there. Add in ACT prep and volunteering and filling out college applications and there isn't extra time for more effort, especially for us seniors.”

Hoping to forestall an argument Blaine adds, “I thought all the performances this week were great. I'm not sure what more you're expecting us to give, Mr. Schue.” Blaine pauses and looks around the room before returning his gaze to the teacher. “And I'm in almost every club McKinley has, and I can say that Tina's right: I spend more time preparing for or in Glee than I do for any other club.”

Blaine sees Artie straighten in his chair, about to speak, but Mr. Schue steps even closer, “Guys. Guys!” His voice is loud enough to startle Marley, who's sitting in front. “I'm sorry you misunderstood. Your performances this week have been good. I'm just saying that everyone will need to work hard all year. Don't get complacent and take a safe route – we're preparing for Nationals.

“Now, with that said, who would like to go first?”

Blaine ducks his head as Mr. Schue looks around the room. He had considered performing today, but Mr. Schue's speech has tension settling in his shoulders and wishing for another day to practice. Just when the silence is beginning to reach awkward status Marley stands.

“I'll go.”

Blaine gives her an encouraging smile and a thumbs up when the he hears the opening chords of And So It Goes. Her voice is soulful; the lyrics coming to life. Of course.

She finishes the song to a round of applause, and then Ryder is joining her in the middle of the room as the band plays the beginning of Counting Stars. Blaine quickly snaps a picture.

Text message from Blaine:

[photo] I miss our duets during Glee :(

-*-*-*-

Kurt exits the dance studio with aching muscles and an empty water bottle. He wants nothing more than to collapse into his bed, shower, and get some food – not necessarily in that order. Adjusting his bag he leaves the building, heading for the subway.

An hour later Kurt resists the urge to simply fall asleep, freshly showered and comfortably ensconced in the small mountain of blankets on his bed. With Rachel at rehearsal – he's certain he'll hear all about it when she's home – and Santana visiting Dani, he has the loft to himself.

The solitude is not helping him come up with the willpower to move.

He really should, though; having the loft to himself is an all too rare occurrence, and the opportunity should be taken like the gift it is. With a sigh he pushes the blankets away (leaving a pile he's sure he'll regret come time for bed) and with one last longing look he leaves his room. He heads for the piano in the living area to practice for his voice class.

Regardless of what the mainstream media and the average person believes, college arts classes are just as taxing as any other college course. At the beginning of the term Kurt had felt intimidated in Voice I, especially since Mr. Schue had woefully underprepared him for the course. After his initial assessment his professor had kindly told him that his inherent talent needed refinement, and that he believed Kurt could succeed if he put in the effort, but to succeed as a counter tenor practice was essential. 

Kurt had learned the location and nuances of every freshman vocal practice room within the week.

Initially, Kurt had hoped that the addition of the piano – Blaine really was amazing – would mean he could practice more in the loft. The day after Blaine had returned to Ohio Kurt had woken to Rachel singing and playing the melody to I'm the Greatest Star. Within the first week he had realized it was far less stressful to practice on campus than to argue with Rachel over singing rights – 

Kurt, I'm taking classes, working at the diner, and rehearsing for Funny Girl. I don't have time to stay on campus to practice.

Now, Kurt smiles as he takes a seat on the worn bench. He is tired, but homework comes first.

Text message from Kurt:

Empty loft! The piano is mine! :)

Text message from Blaine:

:)

Text message from Kurt:

Voice homework…

Text message from Blaine:

You're already amazing. Practice will just make a great thing even better ;)

Text message from Kurt:

Smooth. Very smooth. I think I'll keep you <3

Text message from Blaine:

Love you! <3>/tt>

Text message from Blaine:

Now practice so all the NYADA boys can be jealous of your talent

Laughing, Kurt sets his phone on the bit of wood to the right of highest C key before flexing his fingers. Making sure to keep his hands arched he plays a scale to get into the right mindset. He's not Blaine – his pianist abilities are limited to scales for warm-ups and picking out simple melodies for practice. Still, he manages to get through the entirety of the three songs he has to perform during his one-on-one conference next week.

Santana enters while he's practicing a run of thirty-seconds for the third time. He finishes and takes a breath before turning around on the bench to face her.

“You know, it's things like that that make me glad I'm not going to school for singing.”

Kurt shrugs. “It'll be worth it, some day.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Hummel.” Santana gestures toward the piano. “You almost done? There's a Facts of Life marathon on, and since you're the genius that introduced me to it, you should share in the killing of brain cells.”

Kurt glances at the time on his phone. “Two episodes? I still have reading to do.” He feels the grimace on his face at the mention of the book.

“Sounds like a riot.”

Gathering his phone, Kurt stands. “That's college.”

-*-*-*-

Blaine's mother enters the house with a click of heels and a smile. “Blaine, I'm home!”

At the sound of his mother's voice Blaine leaves the kitchen – and his dinner dishes – to see his mother standing in the entryway, hanging her jacket in the coat closet.

“Hi. How was your cruise?”

“Oh! It was just lovely. I found the cutest little shop in one of the ports.” Blaine's mother steps forward to give him a quick hug. “Now,” she hands Blaine a set of keys, “Could you grab my bags from the car? Travelling is so tiring.”

Blaine gives his mom a smile before leaving to get the bags from her car. He shakes his head as he opens the car's back door; he'll have to make two trips.

Minutes later, with the bags piled in the entryway and the front door re-locked, Blaine finds his mother in the kitchen, sipping a glass of white wine.

“Thank you, Blaine. How have you been, sweetie?”

“Fine.” Blaine shrugs before taking a seat on the bar stool in front of the island where he had eaten dinner; his half-finished can of soda is sweating.

“I'm guessing you had dinner already.” Her gaze slides to the dishes in the sink. “I'm glad you're not living off frozen dinners.”

“After I worked at the shop yesterday Mr. Hummel invited me to eat with them. Mrs. Hudson-Hummel gave me leftovers.” Blaine takes a sip of his drink. “I'll give the Tupperware back to Mr. Hummel tomorrow when I see him at the garage.”

“Hm.” Blaine's mother swirls the wine in her glass. “Such a long name; it's quite a mouthful! Do you know why she didn't take her husband's name?”

For a moment Blaine sits, stunned. “I um –” Blaine hates floundering for words. “Kurt's never said, but I know she was married before. And Finn…Finn's last name was Hudson. Maybe she didn't want him to feel left out.”

Blaine notices his mother's wine glass is now almost empty. “Maybe so. It was kind of them to invite you to dinner, especially after what they've been through.” Her voice takes on a sympathetic quality, and Blaine tightens his grip on his soda can. “Make sure you thank them when you take back that Tupperware. Anyway, sweetheart, how's school?”

“We're reading Wuthering Heights in English – I have a vocabulary quiz tomorrow.” He smiles before continuing, “Glee's been fun. We had Katy Perry and Lady Gaga not too long ago. We had to sing opposite our favorite, though.” Blaine's mother lets out a quiet laugh. “Ryder did an awesome version of Counting Stars with Marley today. I might see if Kurt wants to sing it the next time I see him.”

Blaine watches his mother for her reaction to Kurt's name. Her face is mostly blank, but she makes sure she catches his gaze as she replies.

“Sounds like you've been having fun in your Glee club, that's nice. Just make sure you spend at least as much time working on your academics.” She flashes him a quick smile, “Now. I got you a few presents while I was gone; what do you say we go through my things to find your spoils?”

Blaine laughs as he jumps off the stool, pointedly ignoring his mother's lack of mention about his fiancé. “Sounds like a plan.”

Halfway up the stairs fifteen minutes later with a bag in his left hand that contains a book on Haitian music, a pair of hand-made sandals, and a stuffed bear courtesy of the cruise line, Blaine pauses and turns his head when his mother calls his name.

“Yeah?”

“When you spoke to your father, did he happen to mention what time his plane was getting in? I was thinking we could all go out for dinner.”

“Oh.” Blaine pauses, remembering phone calls. “No, he didn't. But he's been calling almost every night so you can ask him later, probably.”

“Hm. Alright. If your father agrees, is there any place in particular where you'd like to go? Or something you've had recently? You mentioned you went to the mall not too long ago; I'm guessing you ate out then.”

Blaine's hand tightens on the bag's handles – 

A forest green truck in a parking lot.

A coincidence.

“I just ate in the food court, so wherever is fine.”

“Alright then. I'm probably going to go to bed soon; between traffic and travel I'm exhausted. So sleep well when you've finished with your homework.”

Blaine sighs, wondering what it says about his parents that they both check on the status of his homework but leave him in an empty house for weeks at a time. “I will. ‘Night, Mom.”

In his room, Blaine sets the bag of gifts in front of his nightstand before continuing to his desk. He turns on his docking station and wakes up his computer as he sits in his desk chair.

Text message from Blaine:

Back to homework :(

Blaine finishes the Civics assignment he'd started before dinner and reviews his AP English vocabulary before he decides it's time for a break.

Text message from Blaine:

Mom's home too. She bought me a book. And sandals…apparently they're hand-made?

Text message from Blaine:

I couldn't tell her they're the wrong size. Plus…sandals. No.

Text message from Kurt:

At least she got you something?

Kurt answers on the second ring and Blaine wonders if Kurt's voice over a phone line will ever cease to make him smile. He doubts it.

“Hi.” Blaine leans back in his chair. “The sandals are the wrong size. I didn't tell her; is that wrong?”

Kurt's laugh through the phone line is still one of the most beautiful things Blaine has ever heard.

“Not terribly. It's not like she can exchange them, and you don't wear sandals anyway.”

Blaine makes a hum of agreement before continuing in a quiet, absent voice. “Another impractical item to add to the pile in my closet.”

“Oh!” Kurt's voice conveys excitement. “I meant to ask; how was Glee? Did you secure a solo for your next public performance with Chasing the Sun?”

Blaine's hand tightened on his phone. “Um, no. Not exactly. I –” Blaine bites down on his lower lip. “I didn't actually sing today.”

“Did something happen? I thought –” Kurt's voice is patient, even in confusion. “I thought you planned on going today. You sounded brilliant yesterday.”

Blaine sighs and drums his free hand on his desk. “Thanks; I'm glad you thought so. It's just…in Glee today Mr. Schue kept talking about how we should take risks. And that to make sure we don't let anyone down we all have to give all that we can. He said we should put as much effort in as we do to our classes.

“I just –” Blaine leans back in his chair. “I could do better, you know? And extra practice can't hurt; I'll go over it some more once I finish this homework and maybe I'll go tomorrow.”

“Blaine.” Kurt's voice is warm but determined, and Blaine feels his spiraling thoughts come back to some semblance of control. “I've seen you sing for an audience. And practice. You have never given less than your best during a performance. Never.” Kurt's voice takes on a teasing lilt. “Even when you're serenading less than receptive Gap employees.”

Blaine can feel the blush hot on his face even as he laughs. “I thought we agreed never to mention that again.”

“I can't seem to recall any such agreement.”

“Of course not.”

“Well, at least your choice of location improved. Your future serenades were better received.”

“I had more reason to impress.”

“Did you?” Kurt's voice remains steady, if flirty, in spite of the question.

“Only the best for the love of my life. He's amazing you know,” Blaine can practically see Kurt's smile, “and I wanted the world to know it.”

“Well, all of McKinley is close enough, I suppose.”

“It was your world, at the time. Besides, your classmates needed to know that Kurt Hummel was off the market.”

“It's not like there was much competition, Blaine.”

“Their loss. And the NYADA boys' too – I put on a ring on it, after all.”

Kurt's laughter rings, sharp and bright. “Oh my God, Blaine. Beyoncé? Really?”

“She's queen.”

“I can't argue with you on that. But I can tell you to finish your homework so you can get some sleep.”

“Really? You're cutting me off just like that?”

“Really. I'm terribly selfish, you know. And in order for you to come live here with me – which is what I want – you have to graduate. So homework, Blaine.” There's a pause, and Blaine is just about to respond when Kurt continues. “And don't worry about Mr. Schue; your song is perfect.”

“Homework it is. And Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go be productive.”

Blaine ends the call with a smile and the assurance that he'll text when he goes to bed. He sets the phone aside and pulls his calculus work forward, rubbing his eyes as he takes in the small print.

He's certain no one but Kurt would ever believe him, but sometimes Blaine really despises school. 

-*-*-*-

Rachel enters the loft with a frown on her face and Kurt can practically see the thundercloud hovering over her.

It's going to be a long night.

Still, he has to ask. “How was rehearsal, Rachel?”

“What? Oh, it was fine.”

“It was?” Kurt's voice betrays his confusion.

“Yes. Why wouldn't it be?”

“Maybe because you just came in here looking like you're on the verge of murder.” Santana's voice cuts through the loft, and Kurt sees her looking over the back of the sofa, smirking.

“Oh! I'm not mad because of rehearsal,” Rachel sounds incredulous. “It's Funny Girl.” 

From his seat at the table Kurt just stares, and a quick glance at Santana proves she's doing the same.

Rachel sighs, and then continues, “Some girl ran into me outside of Starbucks and made me drop my coffee. I hadn't even taken a sip yet! And,” Rachel huffs, “she didn't even apologize.”

On the sofa, Santana laughs, and Kurt covers his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. Rachel eyes both of them before crossing the loft and sitting in one of Kurt's vintage dining chairs.

“I really wanted that coffee, Kurt. It's been a long day.”

“Well, lucky for you I just finished brewing some.” Kurt nods toward his steaming cup before he stands and goes to the cabinet to grab a mug for Rachel.

Returning moments later, he slides the drink across the table and gives Rachel a small smile. “You'll have to add your own extras.”

Rachel reaches for the sugar packets and jar of non-dairy creamer in the center of the table. “Thanks. I know it's not the best for my voice, but I really do need the caffeine.” Rachel stirs her coffee. “We're going off script soon and so I need to review everything.There's just too much to do: work, classes, homework.”

Kurt hums in agreement as he takes a sip of his own coffee. “Seems like everyone is tired – stressed – these days.” Setting down his cup, Kurt stares at the swirls before speaking again. “I ended my call with Blaine early. I'm a little worried, actually. He's stressed and –”

"Wait, the hobbit gets stressed? I thought the only time he was anything less than sickeningly happy was when youd dumped him....you didnt dump him, did you?”

“What?!” Kurt whips his head to the left, facing Santana. “No! I didn't –” Kurt takes a deep breath and waves his left hand, making sure his ring catches the light. “Blaine and I are engaged Santana.” He tilts his head toward the television, “And I thought you were watching TV.”

“Hard to watch when you and Rachel keep gossiping like we're still at McKinley.”

“We're not gossiping, Santana.” Rachel's voice is judging. “And you should really stop listening in on other people's conversations.”

“It's a loft,Berry. If you want privacy, go some place that has walls.”

“Now Kurt,” Rachel continues as if Santana hadn't spoken, “What makes you think Blaine's stressed?”

“He didn't perform today.” He hears Santana groan on the sofa and looks up from his coffee to see Rachel looking less than convinced. “I just – he had planned to go today, but then Mr. Schue said one of his oh-so-helpful comments and Blaine decided he needed more practice. He sounded anxious, Rachel. Blaine doesn't get anxious over Glee performances.”

“Damn, Hummel. You're freaked because Tiny Tim put off singing for a day? You two really are the most boring couple. Cute, but boring.”

“Kurt,” Rachel pauses, seemingly searching for words, “I think Santana's right.” She holds up a hand for forestall Kurt's reply. “Just – they're preparing for Nationals. It makes sense that Blaine would want to practice. It doesn't sound like he's stressed.” A pause. “At least, no more than any other high school senior.”

Kurt hums in response, remembering Blaine's nervous, rambling voice; his hesitance with his performance; his slightly pale face and tired eyes; the mention of his parents, the accompanied attempt at nonchalance.

“Maybe,” Kurt says in response.

But maybe not resounds in his thoughts.

-*-*-*-

Blaine startles awake, heart thundering in his chest.

Pain! The dress shoe moves away, becomes a pair. Morphs into scuffed sneakers.

“Be a man, Anderson!”

A green truck races past, music blaring.

His phone's screen is harsh in the darkness of his room.

2:17 A.M.

Breathe in. Just a nightmare.

Breathe out. Just a stupid, stupid nightmare.

Blaine sets his phone back on his nightstand, closes his eyes, and thinks of Kurt.