IT'S THE JOURNEY

CHAPTER 1

                New Directions had just won regionals, followed by Mr. Schue and Miss Pillsbury getting married as the entire glee club, plus several former members who were in town, watched.  It wasn't the wedding everyone had envisioned for them, but at least it had happened.  Kurt and Blaine's wedding would be nothing like that, Blaine knew.  It would be a romantic, fairy-tale affair; all he had to do was convince Kurt to marry him, and step one was to actually pop the question.

                Everyone began to filter out of the room.  Blaine hung back until he saw Kurt starting to leave.  Following Kurt, he called, “Kurt, wait up!  Can I talk to you for a minute?”

                Kurt turned and waited for Blaine to catch up.  As he did so, he reached out and took Kurt's hand.  Kurt looked at their joined hands, then up at Blaine, but did not pull away.  “Down here,” Blaine said, leading him down an empty hallway.  He certainly didn't envision proposing in a deserted high school hallway, but he didn't know how much longer Kurt was going to be in town; Kurt hadn't told him.  That was the way things had been recently:  they would see each other when Kurt was in town, and even do a few things occasionally like go out to dinner or a movie, there was usually a booty call or two, but Kurt was talking to him less and less, not telling him details about his plans.  He needed to take advantage of this opportunity.

                “Kurt,” he began, “You are the love of my life.  You're everything I've ever wanted.  I know I fucked up, literally, but that just made me realize how much I wanted you, no one else.  Everything about that felt wrong.  I was feeling hurt and neglected and ignored and alone, but I understand now that I was being insecure and that you still loved me, you were just busy and overwhelmed by starting out in New York.  I . . . I want us to move past that, and start our lives together.  What I'm trying to say, obviously not very well, is . . . Kurt, will you marry me?”  With that, he pulled the ring box out of his pocket, where he had placed it when he saw Kurt walking out of the choir room, and opened it.

Kurt stared, open mouthed, at the ring for a moment before shaking his head.  “Blaine, you cheated on me.  I can't forget that.  I'm trying really hard to forgive you, but I'm just not there yet.  When that happened, we broke up, in case you forgot.”

“But, every time you're in town, we do things together, things that look and feel an awful lot like dates.  And pretty much every time you're here, you sleep with me.  Don't tell me that doesn't mean anything,” Blaine protested.

“It doesn't,” Kurt said coldly.  “And besides, since we broke up, I've started seeing someone else.  I'm with Adam now.”  With that, he turned and walked away.

Tears began to stream down Blaine's cheeks.  He had been hearing about Adam for a while now, on the fairly rare occasions when they did talk, but he didn't know that he and Kurt were together.  Nothing had changed about how Kurt talked about him, and Kurt had slept with him several times since he began mentioning Adam.  He felt used.  Apparently that was all he was to Kurt now, all he had been for a while:  a booty call.  He couldn't believe Kurt had done this to him, said those things to him.  And the worst thing was, he still loved him.  If Kurt turned around and said yes, he would still marry him.

* * *

Kurt was well aware he was being cruel.  He wanted to hurt Blaine as much as Blaine's cheating had hurt him.  He wanted to teach Blaine a lesson.  And throwing the cheating and Adam in his face seemed like the best, most effective way to do it.  The truth was he was playing up his relationship with Adam.  He knew Adam was interested, and they'd gone on a few dates, but he felt no chemistry.  Adam was nice enough, and fun to spend time with, but that was it.  They had shared a few kisses, but he had no desire to go further, although he knew Adam did.  But Blaine didn't know that.  Letting him believe he cared about Adam more than he did, letting Blaine believe Kurt was just using Blaine for convenient sex, cut Blaine to the core.  Now he knew how Kurt felt.

But the reality was that he still loved Blaine.  It killed him to say no.  He truly wanted nothing more in life than to marry Blaine.  He wanted it more than Broadway, more than a fashion career, more than he wanted to be out of Ohio forever.  The reason he slept with Blaine each time he came to town was that he couldn't stay away, and it was the only time he ever felt truly complete.  He dreamed about Blaine, about their future together.  On one hand, he couldn't wait to start that future, but on the other, he was still so hurt by Blaine's betrayal that he couldn't say yes when Blaine proposed, even though he loved him so much it hurt.

And so he had said no.  He went out to his car, forced himself to drive away from the school, and pulled onto the first deserted residential street he saw.  Stopping under an old oak tree, he turned his car off, placed his head on the steering wheel, and sobbed.  He cried for what was lost, what he had just thrown away, what might never be.  And he cried for the chance he might never have again.

* * *

                Months passed, bringing relief for Blaine in the form of final interviews and auditions for colleges.  Because of Kurt, he had placed the most emphasis on colleges in New York City, but he had, at his parents' insistence, also applied to a number of other colleges, some as far away as California.  He had received early acceptances to several Ivy League Schools and Stanford, but for business or engineering programs.  The final auditions for the arts programs weren't until spring, with most falling neatly between regionals and nationals, time-wise.  And he knew, deep in his heart, his path in life lay in the arts.  Unlike Kurt, he wasn't committed to Broadway; he felt he could be happy there, but knew he would also be able to enjoy working as an actor on television or in films, as a singer, a songwriter, or even possibly a playwright or writing for the screen.  He promised his parents that even if he was admitted to an arts program, he would double major and get a “practical” degree as well, even though he was certain he would never use it.  However, the promise did net him his parents' support, financially and emotionally, for his arts auditions.  And without Kurt, he needed his parents' emotional support more than he had ever thought he would. 

However, one audition proved to be a problem:  his NYADA audition.  With the promise to his parents came the implication that he would attend a school which would permit him to double major in arts and either business or engineering.  NYADA, on the other hand, had no non-arts majors.  Therefore, he couldn't tell his parents about the upcoming audition, and unfortunately, unlike last year, Carmen Tibideaux would not be traveling to the western Ohio area.  He would have to travel to New York to audition for NYADA, and do so without alerting his parents.

Therefore, the NYADA audition involved an elaborate ruse.  First, he called Wes and David to arrange his cover:  as far as his parents knew, he would be visiting them at Yale.  They would pay for his flights to New Haven and back home, allowing him to take a day off from school to get to see the campus and attend a few classes with Wes and David to get a taste of college life.  After he arrived Thursday night, David would drive him into the city, and pick him up after the audition.  Now he just had to find a place to stay that would not show up on his credit card; he would need all his cash for meals and transportation in the city, so paying in cash was not an option.  He tried to call Kurt, but he wouldn't answer.  Finally, he gave up and tried Rachel and Santana, ending up leaving messages for both.  Santana called him back, telling him he was welcome to crash on their living room floor, but she wasn't giving up her place on the couch.  Fortunately, he could explain bringing a sleeping bag and pillow as needing to use it when he slept on the floor in Wes and David's dorm room, which was, of course, set up for only two people.  So it was decided:  he would stay at Kurt, Rachel and Santana's apartment the night before his audition.  Once the audition was over, David would pick him up, unless it was too late, in which case he would stay one more night and David would pick him up Saturday morning.  Although he felt slightly guilty lying to his parents, Blaine breathed a small sigh of relief once the arrangements were made.

David dropped him at the curb in front of the apartment, helping him unload an overnight bag, his sleeping bag and pillow, and his guitar.  He hugged Blaine and told him to break a leg, then got back in his car for the hour and a half ride back to New Haven.  Feeling a bit like a pack mule carrying all his things, Blaine made his way up the stairs to the apartment. 

He knocked on the door, and heard Rachel yell, “Coming,” from inside.  She opened the door, and stood staring at him for a moment.  “What are you doing here?”  She demanded.

“I was going to stay the night.  My NYADA audition is tomorrow.  Didn't Santana tell you?”  Blaine answered.

“No, she never said anything to me, and I'm pretty sure Kurt doesn't know either,” she hissed, glancing behind him, then dragging him into the apartment.  “We have to figure out what to do.” 

“It shouldn't be a problem.  We're all adults.  Kurt and I have had our differences, but we're still friends,” Blaine said, hoping it was true.

“For everyone's sake, I really hope you're right,” Rachel said, muttering, “I'm gonna kill Santana,” to herself.

* * *

Kurt and Adam had managed to get cheap student rush tickets to Nice Work If You Can Get It, and went out for a late dinner afterwards.  It had been a wonderful night, but on the way home Kurt found himself wondering if he could get away with not kissing Adam goodnight.  He still enjoyed spending time with Adam, and other than Rachel, Adam was his best friend in New York, but that was all he was.  There was no spark, no fire.  It was nothing like he felt when he was with Blaine.  He was preoccupied with finding an excuse to say goodnight at the door and avoid a kiss, thinking that pretending to have a sore throat might be effective, as he opened the door to the apartment and froze in shock. 

Crouched on the floor in his living room was Blaine, unrolling a sleeping bag as Santana warned him, “If you don't move that over there, Hobbit, I'm going to be stepping on you over and over.”

“What are you doing here?” Kurt asked breathlessly.

“My NYADA audition is tomorrow.  My parents don't know, because they made me promise to double major in something ‘practical' which isn't possible at NYADA, so I didn't tell them I had applied.  And since they don't know, I had to go to some pretty extreme measures to get here and do the audition without them finding out.  I can't put anything in the city on my credit card, so I asked if I could stay here.  Santana said yes.  I thought she had told you and Rachel,” Blaine explained, throwing a dirty look in Santana's direction.  Santana just shrugged, unconcerned by her oversight.

Adam stood behind Kurt awkwardly.  He wasn't certain who the young man in Kurt's living room was, but he had a pretty good idea.  Suddenly, Kurt turned to him and kissed him passionately.  “Come on, Adam,” Kurt said, practically dragging him to the partitioned-off area that served as his bedroom.  “Make love to me,” he demanded.

Taken aback, Adam just stared at Kurt.  “Well, do you want to fuck me or not?” Kurt demanded.

Adam had dreamed of this for some time.  He was incredibly attracted to Kurt and had wanted to make love to him since before even asking him out for the first time.  But the suddenness made him wonder, in the back of his mind, exactly what had caused the change.  He had felt that Kurt was pulling away from him, might not want to be with him, and suddenly Kurt was demanding they jump into a sexual relationship.  However, he wanted this too much to listen to the small voice in the back of his head, the one that said something was wrong here, that this wasn't really what Kurt wanted, it wasn't about the two of them at all, that Kurt would never have used that language if he really wanted to take their relationship to another level.  He pushed the doubts away, undressing himself in between helping Kurt pull off his clothes.  He attached his lips to each newly revealed bit of skin, not able to get enough.  He did everything he could to make Kurt happy, but he knew that despite Kurt's physical response, emotionally, something was wrong.  After they finished, Kurt rolled away from him and wrapped his arms around himself.  Adam tried to talk to him, but Kurt cut him off, saying, “I need a shower, and I'm really tired, and I have a lot to do in the morning.  Do you mind letting yourself out?

***

Rachel was about to go to bed when Kurt got home.  She had been tired a lot lately, but told everyone it was just the stress of her class load combined with worry about her Funny Girl audition.  When Kurt abruptly kissed Adam, then dragged him to his room, she exchanged an astounded glance with Santana.  While it was clear Adam was quite attracted to Kurt, Kurt had never seemed that serious about the relationship.  The apartment's interior ‘walls' consisted of curtains, cheap book cases, and furniture, and as such did little to muffle the conversation occurring in the next room, nor the sounds which followed.  A blush began to creep up Blaine's cheeks, and he struggled to hold back tears, keeping his eyes pinned to the floor near his feet.  Santana finally rescued them all by claiming to have an early morning commitment and needing to get to bed.  She turned out the lights and Rachel headed to her own room.

Blaine curled up in his sleeping bag, letting his tears fall silently in the dark, wishing he couldn't hear what was going on in the next room.    He finally managed to block the sound by lying on one side, grabbing a throw pillow from a chair to muffle the sounds trying to make their way to the ear he wasn't lying on.  Sleep claimed him before the activity in the next room ceased, so he didn't hear the final conversation, nor did he hear Adam leaving or anything that followed.

***

Adam was hurt, but decided to give Kurt his space.  He wasn't dense.  Something was going on, but he wasn't sure what that something was.  He dressed quickly and left as quietly as he could, trying not to wake anyone on his way out.

After Kurt heard the door close behind Adam, he waited a minute, then quickly crossed the apartment and locked the door.  Afterwards, he headed to the bathroom.  He turned the shower on hotter than was really comfortable and climbed in as the mirror started to steam.  Once in the shower, with the water to mask both the sight and sound, he let his tears fall freely.  Grabbing a loofah, he began to scrub his body furiously, not stopping until his skin was raw and the water ran cold.  He felt absolutely filthy, even after the shower, although he wasn't sure why.  Adam liked him, they'd been going out for several months, he didn't have a reputation for playing around, and he'd always been a perfect gentleman to Kurt, even tonight, even in bed.  All Kurt knew for sure was that he never felt like this after he'd been with Blaine.

***

Blaine arose early the morning of his audition.  He would have liked to have passed it off as nerves over his audition, but he knew it was really that he dreaded the possibility of facing Kurt this morning.  So he got up shortly after dawn, took a quick shower, and, pocketing the key Santana had lent him and grabbing his guitar, let himself out.  He intentionally headed away from NYADA to find a coffee shop.  He didn't want to chance running into Kurt.  He picked at a pastry he'd chosen from the case without registering what it was and drank his coffee while waiting until he could expect the practice rooms at NYADA to open. 

He finally deemed it late enough and headed to NYADA, hoping he didn't see Kurt.  A block of practice rooms had been reserved for the use of those auditioning, available on a first come, first served basis.  His audition was scheduled for mid-afternoon, and he had originally planned to hang out at the apartment during the morning, but since he couldn't stay there comfortably now he was going to camp out in a practice room until his audition, even though he knew it was rude to take up that much time.  Besides, he had a good reason.  He had originally planned to do one of several numbers from the many musicals he had memorized; they were all prepared, and he had planned to choose at the last minute – he'd had a lot of luck in solo performances deciding at the last minute based on what just felt right in the moment.  But now, none of them seemed right.  Well aware that he was taking a risk that might lose him any chance at securing a place at NYADA, he had decided to go with a song that wasn't from a musical, and it was nowhere near as well prepared.  He really needed the time to rehearse.  He had planned to play the piano – the guitar was a backup, but this song needed the guitar and he barely knew the chords.  But it was the way he felt right now.  One of the first to arrive for the auditions, he easily found an open practice room in the reserved block and slipped in to get to work. 

One thing he hadn't counted on was being able to hear the NYADA students talk as they changed classes or lounged between them if they had an off period.  Midmorning he cringed as he heard a familiar voice, one he'd heard too much of last night, right outside the door.  “Hey, have you seen Kurt?” The voice inquired of someone else in the hallway.

“No.  He's missed at least the two classes we have together this morning.  I don't know about his others.  Why?”  A stranger's voice replied.

“Because I haven't seen him either, and he's not answering his phone,” the familiar voice said in a worried tone.

“Is something wrong?  I thought things were going pretty well between you two,” said the other voice.

“I'm not sure.  I thought they were, but last night something happened,” the first person said. 

No, Blaine thought, Don't say anymore.  He might not have approved of what had happened last night, and it might have broken his heart, but no matter what Kurt had done, he didn't deserve to have his sex life become a topic for public conversation.

“What?”  The second person continued the interrogation.

As Blaine held his breath, he heard the first person say, “I'm not really sure.  I think I might have done something that upset him or made him mad, but I'm really not sure what I did or why he's unhappy.  I need to talk to him about it.  Just let me know if you see him, and tell him I'm looking for him.  I need to apologize, even if I'm not sure what for.”  Then Blaine heard two sets of footsteps heading away from the door of the practice room, going in opposite directions.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  He was glad he didn't have to hear any more of the conversation about Kurt, and even more relieved that the guy apparently wasn't interested in spreading rumors or bragging about his conquests.  He really did seem like a decent guy, despite the fact that he and Kurt had just shattered every dream Blaine had about his future.  And if Blaine couldn't have Kurt, he could at least hope that Kurt would find love with someone who would love him back and treat him well.

***

Kurt slept late that morning, throwing his phone across the room when his morning alarm went off.  He ignored its persistent ringing later that morning until Santana yelled at him to turn it off.  Looking at Adam's face on the display, he hit ignore and turned the phone to silent, dropping it back on the floor next to the wall before crawling back into bed to stare listlessly at a spot slightly higher up on the same wall.

He didn't want to talk to Adam.  He didn't want to have to face him.  He didn't want to have to admit that the only way he was able to have sex with Adam was by picturing Blaine.  And even more than not facing Adam, he didn't want to face Blaine.  He couldn't.  He had no explanation for last night for either of them; he didn't even have an answer that satisfied him.  And he didn't even want to begin to think about the interrogation he'd receive from Rachel and Santana.

He had no idea what time Blaine's audition was.  That little tidbit of information was something he'd forgotten to ask in his surprise last night.  So he waited in bed until the long silence told him the apartment was empty.  Finally, he could delay getting up no longer.  He had skipped all his morning classes, which fortunately were the academics that NYADA had to not only offer but require to keep its accreditation; since the focus was Broadway, and everyone knew it, most of the academic professors tended to be pretty lax about attendance, even if they did have an annoying habit of actually assigning and grading work and tests.  His afternoon classes were a different story; he had dance, acting and voice this afternoon, and the performance teachers were as strict about attendance as the academic instructors were lenient.  So he pulled himself from the bed, showered, and headed in to school, hoping he could avoid Adam.  Hell, while he was at it, he'd like to avoid Blaine, too; and Rachel, and Santana, now that she was taking extension classes at NYADA.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.  Adam saw him almost as soon as he entered the building.  “Kurt!  Kurt, we need to talk.”  Kurt turned on his heel and headed the other direction, not answering.  It wasn't subtle or smooth, but at least he hoped Adam would get the message.  Again, no luck.  “Kurt, please.  Whatever I did, I'm sorry.  Can't we please talk for a minute?”

“Look, Adam, I'm late for class.  You didn't do anything wrong, you don't need to apologize, and I don't want to talk about it.  I have to go or Cassie will kill me.  I already have to overcome being Rachel's friend.”  Kurt delivered his speech in a single breath, then headed to the dance studio where his class was being held as fast as he could.

Adam just stood, dumbfounded, looking after him.

***

After Kurt's dance class, he had a free hour before his voice class.  Wandering in the direction of the room, prepared to spend the time in a quiet corner doing the work for the classes he'd missed, he saw a sign on the door to the voice room informing him that the class was moved for the next week due to auditions.  Great.  Now he had to find the other room.  He was about to turn to do so when a piece of paper tacked to the wall next to the door caught his eye.  It was a list of the people auditioning.  The next name on the list was Blaine Anderson.  Unable to stop himself, he risked Carmen Tibideaux's wrath by slipping in and sitting in a back corner where he was partially obscured from the stage at the front of the room.

Kurt spent the next few moments split between hoping that Carmen wouldn't notice him, that she wouldn't eviscerate Blaine for whatever faults she perceived, and that the girl auditioning before Blaine would finish her abysmally bad performance quickly.  Last year the rumor was that Carmen had wanted to hand pick her inaugural class.  This year they had learned the truth:  she was a monumental control freak and didn't trust the other voice instructors to choose the students for her program.  On the one hand, Kurt found that somewhat disturbing; on the other, if you could survive her scrutiny, you probably had a pretty decent chance of making it.  The girl currently being shredded before him would not be one of the lucky survivors.

After the girl left in tears, Carmen closed one file folder and opened another, calling out “Blaine Anderson,” as she did so.

Blaine stepped onto the stage, carrying his guitar.  “Hello.  I'm Blaine Anderson, and I'll be performing Try Not to Cry.”  Kurt was confused; he didn't know the song and couldn't place the musical.  However, before he could think too much about it, Blaine dropped the guitar strap into place over his shoulder and began.

Try to feel the wind

Blowing through your hair

Try to feel the rain

Falling from the sky

Try to hear the sounds

Of people everywhere

Go to sleep alone

Try not to cry

Try to make a million

In one eight hour day

Try to dig that feeling

See if time can fly

Try to wake the dead

With the music that you play

Go to sleep alone

Try not to cry

Try to say to someone

What someone said to you

We've all been burned by love before

It's a feeling you get used to

Try to take the city

All in just one night

Try to stare down lovers

As they go strolling by

Try to blow their cover

Make ‘em feel uptight

Find someone, take ‘em home

Try not to cry

Try to say to someone

What someone said to you

We've all been burned by love before

It's a feeling you get used to

Try to rise above it

With your brand new wings

Try to say you love it

Now you're free to fly

Try goodbyes to no one

Friends don't mean a thing

Go to sleep alone

Try not to cry

Try to feel the wind

Blowing through your hair

Try to feel the rain

Falling from the sky

Try to hear that name

Pretend that you don't care

Go to sleep alone

Try not to cry

Try not to cry[1]

By the chorus, Kurt was choking with the effort not to cry and to stay silent.  He pressed further back in his seat and willed himself to become invisible.

“Young man, this is a musical theater school.  People usually audition with a song from a musical, but if I'm not mistaken, that song is not from a musical.”  Carmen commented.

“You're correct, Madame Tibideaux,” Blaine answered, “but I believe musical theater is about being able to convey emotions through song, and I think this song demonstrates my ability to do that.”

“Interesting.  You may go.”  Carmen said.  Blaine walked off the stage, and the door closed behind him.  “Do you have something to add, Mr. Hummel?”

Kurt shook his head, letting out a strangled, “No.”

“Then you may go as well.”  Kurt fled.

***

Blaine wasn't sure who the shadowy figure in the back corner of the room had been.  He couldn't see him clearly in the dim lighting.  He had his suspicions, however, and if he was right, it was someone he really didn't want to see right now, so he grabbed his guitar case as he passed by, waiting until he had left the building to replace the guitar in the safety of its case.  He took the subway back to the apartment, then grabbed his suitcase, sleeping bag and pillow.  He locked the door behind him, then dropped the key at the club where Santana worked as a waitress a few blocks away.

He was done soon enough for David to come get him this afternoon if he could break away, but he had texted Blaine this morning to warn him he might need to attend a study group in the early evening, and it might run long.  Blaine didn't want to risk having to spend another night in the apartment, listening to God only knew what.  He took stock of his remaining cash.  If he skipped lunch, he could scrape together enough to pay for a metro pass to New Haven in cash.  The decision made, he headed for the station. 

He texted Wes and David to let them know he was on his way.  Wes arrived at the station to pick him up, asking, “How did the audition go?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”  Blaine sighed.

“Wow.  The incredible Blaine Anderson blew an audition?  That's a first,” Wes chuckled.  Blaine just glared at him.  “Well, how was Kurt?”

“I really don't want to talk about that.”  Blaine stated with finality.  “You know what?  Let's make a deal.  Let's pretend none of today or yesterday ever happened.  Trust me, we'll all be better off that way.”  Wes shot him a concerned look, but kept quiet the rest of the way to the dorm.

Blaine spent a much more restful night that night, after managing to convince Wes and David that he did not need to be cheered up, he was just tired, and really needed a bit of time to decompress.  As his temporary roommates settled into a fun Friday night of reading, homework and papers, Blaine let himself sink into a blissfully dream free, exhaustion fueled slumber.

***

Kurt knew nothing of Blaine's plans.  He didn't know how long Blaine was staying.  He just knew he didn't want to see him.  So he waited at school as long as he could, practicing in various dance and voice studios until he was kicked out of them, and then working on academics in the library, until it closed, as a last resort.  He finally headed home, hoping Blaine would be gone or asleep.

Entering the apartment, he saw Santana piling her blankets and pillows on the couch in preparation for bed.  He looked at her with a question in his eyes.  “Blaine's gone, has been for hours,” she told him.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  “Go see what Berry's problem is, would you?  She's been home since before I got here, she won't talk to me, and she's been bawling the entire time, apparently.”  For the first time, he registered the sound of crying coming from the next room.

Concern for his friend instantly crowded out any lingering feelings about the events of the last couple of days.  Entering Rachel's room, he found her curled on her bed, sobbing.  He sat next to her and stroked her hair.  Pushing a strand back from her face, he asked, “What happened?”

“I didn't get it.  I'm not Fanny Brice.  I'm the understudy!”  She exclaimed, as if that was the worst thing that could ever have happened.  This dramatic announcement was the introduction to a fresh round of tears. 

“Listen, Rachel, I know how much you wanted this, and believe me, I think they're making a mistake, I mean, you are Fanny Brice, we all know it.  But someday everyone's going to see what a star you are.  There will be other roles.  Roles that you define, so that someday some young ingénue is going to be hoping to fill your shoes.  You don't need to step into Barbra's shoes – you need to make everyone else wish they could step into yours.”  Kurt comforted her.

Sniffling, she sat up.  “You're right.  Thank you.  I guess I better call Finn.”

“Um, Rachel, you do know it's after midnight, right?  I think you can wait until morning to let him know about the part,” he told her.

“Not about the part, Silly, about the baby,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“The what?”  He gasped, dumbfounded.

“I'm pregnant,” she told him.  “About two months.”

“Not to be rude, but are you sure?  And are you sure it's . . . um . . . are you sure it's Finn's?”  Kurt questioned.

“Of course I'm sure.  Santana found the pregnancy test in the trash and insisted I go to the clinic.  They did a urine test and a blood test.  They both came out positive.  And yes, it's Finn's.  I can't believe you'd even ask that.”  She rushed, sounding slightly outraged.

“I hate to be the one to point this out, but you were with Brody during that time period too.  Finn's my brother.  He already had one girlfriend cheat on him and try to pass someone else's baby off as his.  I just don't want to see him go through it again.  I don't want him hurt again, so you better be sure if you tell him this.”  Kurt said.  Before she could respond to him, he had another thought, “Wait.  You said Santana knew.  How could you tell her and not me?  And how could she keep her mouth shut for this long?”

“To answer your questions, Brody was always very careful about condoms,” she began.

“Which aren't foolproof,” he pointed out.

“I know, but let's just say that Finn was a little less painstaking about them.  So I have no reason to think it's Brody's, not his.  I don't want to hurt Finn either.  And I know he wants to be a dad someday, I mean just think about how willing he was to step up and take care of Quinn's baby.  So I guess someday will be in about seven months, and he should know.  And as for Santana, she figured it out and took me to the clinic; I lied to her about the test results, so as far as she knew there was nothing to tell.  And I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to know,” she finished.

“But why?  I'm supposed to be your best friend, we live together, and it's my brother's baby.  Didn't you think I'd find out eventually?”  Kurt was confused, and a little hurt.

“Not if I didn't keep it,” Rachel whispered.

“What?”  Kurt asked, shocked.

“Fanny Brice isn't pregnant.  I couldn't lose the part of my life over a baby.  So if I got the part I was going to get rid of it, and no one needed to know,” she explained quietly.

Kurt shook his head, a hand over his mouth partially hiding his shocked expression.  “I can't believe you would do that.  And never even tell Finn.”

Rachel just looked at him.  “You're just like me.  Ambitious, driven.  You understand, right?  You have to understand.”

Backing out of the room, he said, “I would never do that to my own child over a job!  I can't talk to you right now.  Please don't try to talk to me again until I'm ready.  Text me and tell me after you've talked to Finn.”

Fleeing to the bathroom, he typed out a quick text to Finn:  Call me after you talk to Rachel.  Then he started the shower, washing away the sweat of the day before falling into bed, knowing he would be unable to sleep despite, or maybe because of, the stressful day he'd had.

***

Finn called him early the next morning, only a couple of hours after he had finally managed to fall asleep.  “Dude!  Did Rachel tell you?  She's pregnant!  I'm gonna be a dad!” 

Finn was clearly ecstatic, and Kurt hated to have to be the one to burst his bubble, but it had to be done.  “Finn, I need you to calm down and listen to me.  There are things you need to know.”

“Sure, man, shoot.  You're gonna be an uncle!  Aren't you excited?”  Okay, so the calming down would take a while.

Kurt took a deep breath and began, “Remember when Quinn got pregnant, and told you it was yours, even though it was Puck's?”

“Yeah, but that was different.  Rachel and I have actually slept together,” Finn said.

“I know, but Finn, she was also sleeping with Brody around the same time.  I just don't think we can be sure it's yours.”

“Kurt, why are you saying this?  She's supposed to be your best friend!”  Finn began to get angry.

“Yeah, my best friend who's known she was pregnant for at least a month without telling me, and who was planning to get an abortion if she got the part she was trying out for and not ever tell any of us!”  Kurt blurted out.  Okay, that really didn't come out the way he'd planned it, not that he'd really formulated much of a plan.  Maybe he should have.

“I don't understand why you're saying all this awful stuff about Rachel.  Are you jealous because we have a chance to be happy together and you screwed everything up with Blaine?  Yeah, I know about that, but it doesn't give you the right to try to hurt Rachel and I!”  Finn was fuming now.

“I'm saying this stuff because I know it's true.  Why don't you ask her about it?  And because you're my brother and for some insane reason I love you as if we've always been brothers, and I don't want to see you get hurt again!”  Kurt yelled back.  He was just trying to protect Finn, and bringing Blaine into it was a low blow.

“I really don't know why you're trying to ruin everything for me right now, but I don't want to talk to you until you can just be happy for Rachel and I,” Finn told him.  Then he heard the line go dead as Finn disconnected the call.

Well, that was just great.  In the last forty-eight hours he'd managed to hurt Blaine, Adam and Finn, and probably destroy his relationship with Rachel.  He was on a roll now.  Maybe he could piss off Santana and make a clean sweep of it; the only problem was she'd probably just kill him, but really, at this point, he was having a hard time finding a down side to that.

***

Blaine's gamble paid off.  He got into NYADA, as well as most of the other arts programs to which he'd applied.  He was torn.  NYADA was the premiere school in the country for musical theater, but while he was certain he wanted a career in the arts, he wasn't so sure he wanted it to be in musical theater as opposed to pure vocal work, film or TV work, or something else entirely.  So another school might just be better to get a more general arts education.  Then there was the promise to his parents to double major; NYADA would not allow him to do that in a way that would satisfy his parents' requirements.  And finally, going to NYADA meant he would almost certainly run into Kurt regularly, if not every day.  And while part of him ached to see Kurt as much as possible, under any circumstances he could, part of him said he needed to make a clean break and not see him at all.  Ultimately, he told himself that a promise was a promise, and he could not betray his parents' trust.  So he turned down the offer to attend NYADA, instead opting to major in musical performance and finance at Columbia, with a minor in drama.  He wondered if he wasn't tempting fate or rubbing salt into his wounds by going to a university in the same city as Kurt, especially since he'd been accepted so many other places, places far away where he could get a new start, places where he wouldn't run into Kurt or be tempted to see him.  But he pushed the thought away and began to prepare for his new life in New York.

***

Kurt grabbed his bag and shuffled off the plane.  Back in Ohio, again.  His dad would be picking him up at baggage claim.  He had promised Sam, Tina, and Artie that he would come back for graduation, but he was dreading it.  Going to graduation meant seeing Blaine, and he really wasn't sure he was up for that.  Hopefully, he could just sit in the audience and call all his old friends later to tell them how great they looked and how proud he was of them. 

He could always beg off because he was in town for another reason, too:  Saturday was graduation, quickly followed by Finn and Rachel's wedding Sunday afternoon.  He would go directly to the airport from the reception.  He knew he was invited only to avoid hurting his dad's feelings, as neither Finn nor Rachel was speaking to him.  Finn had refused to ask Rachel about the things Kurt had told him, still believing the best about her, and Rachel was furious that Kurt had divulged her secrets.  She told him she wouldn't lie to Finn, but saw no reason to bring anything up unless Finn chose to discuss it.  Since both were angry with him, he had no official role in the wedding, but it was at least an excuse to try to avoid anything where he might have to face Blaine.

“Hey, Buddy!”  His dad greeted him, tearing him from his thoughts.  “Do you want to go straight home, or is there someone you want to see?”

“Good to see you, Dad,” Kurt said, “It's late.  Can we just go home?  I'm really tired.”

“Tired?  Or is there something else going on?”  For someone who claimed to never understand what was going on with Kurt, his father had an uncanny ability to see through him.

“I'm fine, Dad,” Kurt attempted to deflect the question.

“Right.  What's going on with you and Blaine?  Even after you two broke up, you stayed friends, did stuff together, you were close,” his dad got straight to the point. 

You have no idea, Kurt thought.

“But since the last time you were home, you don't talk about him or ask about him.  Something happened the last time you were back, something that neither of you are willing to talk about, but I know he still cared, because he called the house, came by the shop once, asking about you, how you were.  But all that stopped a month or two ago.  It's been radio silence since then.  So I'm guessing that something else happened, something that made whatever happened last time you were home worse.  Want to talk about it?”  His dad continued.

“Dad, it's history.  Water under the bridge.  Nothing can change what happened, and there's nothing you or I or anyone else can do to fix it, so just let it go, okay?”  Kurt didn't want to talk about it with anyone, but especially not his dad.  He wasn't proud of what he'd done either time, and he knew that he'd let his dad down when Blaine came to New York, even if his dad didn't know it.

“Uh-huh.  Well, I'm here when you're ready to talk.  And you and I both know you'll need to eventually,” his dad said.  Kurt didn't answer, and they spent the remainder of the drive in silence, with Kurt pretending to fall asleep to avoid revisiting the previous topic of conversation. 

When they finally pulled into the driveway, Kurt saw with a sinking feeling that Finn's car was in the driveway and Rachel's was parked on the street in front of the house.  As he and his dad pulled his belongings from the car, they heard angry shouting coming from the house.  Before they reached the door, Rachel stormed out and headed for her car, tears streaming down her face.  “This is all your fault, Kurt!  I hope you're happy now.  You got what you wanted!”  She yelled at him as she rushed past.

Entering the house, they saw a clearly angry Finn standing in the entryway.  “What was that all about?”  Burt asked.

“The things Kurt told me, they just kept nagging at me.  I just needed to know.  So I asked.  I even told her we'd get married no matter what, and I'd love the baby and raise it, but I have a right to know if I'm raising someone else's kid.  Don't I?”  Finn explained, starting to calm down.

“Of course you do,” Burt soothed.

“Well, when I asked she got all mad at me and started yelling and said that if I don't trust her we can't get married, and when I told her I did trust her, I just wanted to know, she admitted it.  She was with someone else around the time she got pregnant, that man-whore she dated, as well as me, but she said  the baby was mine because he was more ‘careful.'  And she said that the other thing was true too.”  Finn told them.

“What other thing?”  Burt knew about the baby, but not about Rachel's plans if she'd gotten the part.  Behind him, Kurt shook his head.

“It's nothing.  It's not important now, it's something she was thinking about but she didn't do it and she won't now.”  Finn told him.  Burt gave him an odd look, then turned to Kurt, who just gave his dad a puzzled look and thanked any deity that might exist that he was a good actor.

“So . . . Sunday?”  Kurt inquired.

“Not going to happen.  Well, Sunday is, just not the wedding,” Finn said. 

Great, Kurt thought, that's now three Finn and Rachel weddings cancelled.  His next thought was a bit more self-centered:  NOW what do I use as an excuse to avoid everyone?  And on top of everything else, he was being blamed for the cancelled wedding, at least by the half of the couple who could have gotten a job as a town crier back in colonial times. 

He was so wrapped up in these thoughts that he almost missed Finn's next comment, delivered under his breath to prevent their parents from hearing him.  “Kurt, thanks for trying to protect me.  You were right.  I'm sorry I doubted you, and I'm really sorry I yelled at you, and that I made things harder for you.”  Kurt had never told Finn how awful the last couple of months had been, but apparently he was more perceptive than he looked; either that, or Santana had told him.  Neither he nor Rachel could afford to move; just having Santana there had been a godsend from a financial standpoint.  So even though they weren't speaking and did their best to avoid one another, they continued to live together.  From what he heard around school, their story wasn't rare; whether best friends who had moved in together or strangers who had been matched by the college or something in between, it seemed that by the end of the year, everyone was on the outs with their roommate.  But at least he had his brother back; that was something.

“I'm really tired.  Do you mind if I just go up and go to bed?”  Kurt asked.  He thought it best not to acknowledge Finn's comments, as doing so would just draw their parents' attention to them, something he did not want to do.

“Sure, Bud, go ahead,” his dad said, looking mildly concerned.

“Let me help you with your stuff,” Finn said, grabbing the bags his dad had just put down.  Finn followed him up the stairs, dropping everything just inside Kurt's bedroom.  “Thanks again, man,” he said as he turned to leave.

The door had no sooner closed behind him before Kurt's phone began to ring.  It was Tina.  Kurt knew he could ignore her, but he also knew she was incredibly persistent.  She'd just keep calling and calling until he answered if she really wanted to talk to him, and he'd be able to get her off the line pretty quickly if she didn't.  “Hello?”  He answered the phone wondering how on earth she'd known when he was getting home.  He hadn't been in the house five minutes.

“Hey, Kurt.  What are you doing right now?  Sam and Artie and I were about to meet up at Breadstix for a little dessert and we wondered if you wanted to come,” she told him.

“Number one, who else is coming, and number two, do I have a choice?”  Kurt inquired.

“No one, and not really.  We'll be by to pick you up in ten,” she said.  Kurt was left staring at his phone as it went dead.  Sighing, he went to fix his hair, then trudged back downstairs as he heard the doorbell ring.

“I thought you were going to bed,” his dad said in surprise. 

“So did I,” Kurt answered tiredly.  “Tina and company apparently had other ideas.  They want to grab dessert, and there probably won't be time tomorrow, so I'm going so I can see them for a bit before the graduation craziness.” 

He opened the door and walked out to join Tina, Sam and Artie in Tina's car.  The drive to Breadstix was filled with chatter about the wedding.  No one seemed to notice how quiet Kurt was.  He guessed he could burst their bubble and tell them the wedding was called off, but it wasn't really his story to tell.  He was somewhat surprised that Rachel hadn't already told everyone the news, complete with her assignment of blame.  However, since she apparently hadn't, he saw no need to bring it up and get involved in a discussion of what had happened.  He didn't even know if most of them knew why the wedding had been set to begin with.  Kurt was just trying to hold onto the calm that preceded the storm that was sure to come.

They arrived at Breadstix.  It was a Friday night, and the popular restaurant was crowded and noisy.  They had to wait to be seated, and then it took several minutes to order, and then for their drinks and food to arrive.  They filled the time with light-hearted discussions of summer plans and who was going to school where.  Finally, the food arrived, and as Kurt took his first bite of cheesecake, he suddenly found three pairs of eyes focused on him.  “What?  Do I have food on my face?  I usually manage more than one bite before I smear stuff on myself,” he said nervously, praying that smeared food was the reason for the interrogatory stares.

“What's up with Blaine?”  Sam broke the momentary silence that had met Kurt's question.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Kurt answered honestly.  Everyone knew about the breakup last fall, although he doubted they all knew why they'd broken up, and while they'd remained friends until recently, as far as he knew everyone also knew they were no longer a couple.  To the best of his knowledge, no one knew about the hook-ups that had occurred for most of the previous year on every trip home, or about the proposal.  “Is something going on?  We really haven't talked much recently.”  Way to go, Master of Understatement, he thought to himself.

Everyone else at the table just stared at him as if they couldn't believe what he had just said.  He was beginning to get decidedly uncomfortable.  Finally, Sam, apparently the spokesman for the group, began to explain, “He's been really different lately.”

Tina cut in, “He's been really quiet, withdrawn.  I mean, he still comes to Glee, does his job, so to speak.  He helped us win nationals again this year.  He puts on a smile and sings and dances and manages to fake the appropriate emotion for each song, but it's an act.  As soon as the song is over, any light, or joy, or happiness is gone.  It's been even worse since he went to New York to audition for NYADA.”

Sam took over again.  “He's my best friend, and he won't talk to me.  The more I try to get him to open up, the more withdrawn he gets.”

“Maybe he just needs some space,” Kurt tried.

“We tried that,” Artie said, finally joining the conversation.  “At first, we thought it was the fact that you said no when he proposed –“

Kurt's head jerked up in alarm.  “Yeah, we know about that,” Sam interjected.

“Or maybe the stress of auditions,” Artie continued.  “So we gave him space.  But it keeps getting worse.  He's cut himself off from pretty much everyone.”

“He shows up to Glee, but he hardly ever says anything, rarely suggests anything.  And when he does, it's like he's trying to channel heartbreak or disappointment or anger or depression or something,” Tina filled in.

“It probably is the stress of auditions,” Kurt confirmed, “I know when I was going through mine it was incredibly stressful.”

“I know it's stressful, I've been going through it too,” Tina told him.  Ouch.  He'd forgotten she was going to try to go to a performing arts program too.  He hadn't even asked her about it.  “But auditions were completed nearly a month ago, and like we said, it just keeps getting worse.”

“Waiting to hear back after the auditions is sometimes worse, at least it was for me.  I mean, before the auditions it's stressful, but there's something to do.  You prepare, you practice.  And the audition itself could give anyone a heart attack.  But afterwards, there's nothing to do but wait and think about all the ways you screwed up and how you blew your only chance.”  Kurt tried to rationalize what he was being told.  “Especially NYADA.  Until he hears how he did on that one, he's going to be stressed.  And he took a big risk:  he didn't do a song from a musical when he was auditioning for a musical theater school.”  He decided not to tell them how he knew that particular piece of information.

“He's heard back,” Tina said.  Kurt looked at her, surprised.  He and Rachel's letters hadn't come until the day of graduation.  That meant that Blaine was either in the first round of applicants good enough to audition to be cut, or among the first accepted.

“That explains it,” Kurt said.  “I know I was crushed when I didn't get into NYADA.  I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, I mean, NYADA was my plan, my only plan.  I didn't apply anywhere else because I was certain that going there was the only way to accomplish my dreams, so when I didn't get in, I had no idea what I was going to do.  I thought I was going to be stuck here, in a town where no one accepts me, for the rest of my life.”  Seeing the glare Tina shot his way, he amended, “Almost no one.”

“But he did get in,” she told him.  Kurt was so shocked he almost dropped his fork.  “He got into NYADA and almost everywhere else he applied.  I can't think of a school he applied to that didn't admit him.  He's accepted an offer at Columbia.”

“Columbia?”  Kurt was confused.  If Blaine got into NYADA, why was he going to Columbia?

“Yeah.  We were all surprised too,” Artie said. 

“He says it's because of some kind of promise he made to his parents, but I don't think that's really why he's going there.  I mean, maybe that's part of it, but I don't think that's the real reason,” Sam told him.

Another thought occurred to Kurt, one that brought a lump to his throat for reasons he couldn't fathom, given the fact that he was the one to break things off.  “Boyfriend troubles?”  He managed to choke out.

“To have a boyfriend, he'd have to let someone get close to him.  Like I said, we're best friends, but he won't even talk to me.  He's closed himself off from everyone, locked us all out.  It's like he's built all these walls, and no matter how much we try, no matter what we do, they just keep getting thicker and higher.  There's no way through them.”  Sam said with a note of despair in his voice.

The conversation slowly turned to graduation, but Kurt really couldn't remember any of it other than the parts about Blaine and NYADA.  He just didn't understand.  He'd never heard of anyone who was admitted to NYADA who turned it down.  Not even over money.  There were scholarships and loans available, and a lot of people worked while attending school like he did, but even that shouldn't be an issue for Blaine; his family had plenty of money for him to go to school wherever he wanted.  All the way home, the issue nagged at him.

After Tina dropped him off, he headed to his room.  His determination to avoid Blaine at all costs this weekend had turned into a resolve to find out what was going on.  With the door closed, he sat on his bed and, finding Blaine's contact information in his phone, he placed the call.  He was somewhat surprised to hear Blaine's voice answer, “Hello?  Who is this?”  That was odd.  Not answering he expected.  Not recognizing the number threw him a bit.  Blaine must have deleted his contact information, and perhaps didn't recognize it from the number alone. 

“It, it's Kurt,” Kurt told him.

“Why are you calling?”  Blaine sighed.  Kurt could practically hear him rubbing his eyes the way he did when he was tired or stressed.  To be honest, it sounded like he was both.

“Um, I went out with Tina and Sam and Artie.  They told me you got into NYADA,” Kurt tried.

“And?”

“And they told me you turned it down.  Why?  What happened?  I mean, no one turns down NYADA.”  Kurt persisted.

“Kurt, we all make choices and decisions.  You made yours, and now I have to make mine.  You've made it quite clear that you don't want me in your life, and so now I have to make decisions based on what's best for me, and after that, what's best for my family.  I can't consider what you want or what you would do anymore,” Blaine told him sadly.

“But, NYADA,” Kurt persisted.

“Isn't part of my future.  I have to go now.  Goodbye, Kurt.”  Blaine disconnected the call.

Kurt stared at the phone, not even registering the tears that started running down his face.  He felt like his life was over.  Somehow, this felt worse than when he found out about the cheating, worse than turning down the proposal.  Those were painful, but they felt like bumps in the road.  This felt like the end.

* * *

Kurt tried calling several times the next day, but Blaine never answered.  Kurt decided he'd just have to talk to him at graduation.  Arriving early, he talked to most of the kids he knew from Glee Club, and a few of the teachers he liked, like Mr. Schue, but everyone could tell he was distracted.  He didn't maintain eye contact, instead searching the crowd constantly.

Suddenly, he heard Artie next to him, saying, “Don't worry, he'll be here.  But he won't come until the last minute, and he'll leave right after it's over.  He won't go to any of the graduation parties.  From what we've heard, he asked his parents not to throw him one, and he's turned down invitations not only to all the ones from his friends in Glee Club and his other activities, but the ones for the old Warblers as well.  We checked when we got worried.  He's cutting them out too.”

Artie was right.  Kurt had given up and taken his seat when he saw Blaine's parents enter the auditorium.  He still hadn't seen Blaine, but if he'd ridden with his parents, he would barely have time to get backstage before the ceremony began.  Sure enough, when Glee Club performed, there he was, leading them.  Kurt's heart broke, because even though the song was positive, he could tell that Blaine's smile was only for show.  It didn't reach his eyes, and died before the last notes of the song rang through the room.  He was one of the first students to receive his diploma, since he had one of the highest class ranks.  Only Tina, the valedictorian, and Artie, the salutatorian, received theirs before him.  He stood on the stage after receiving his diploma next to Artie, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.  After all the other graduates were called, as everyone tossed their caps into the air, Blaine slipped behind the curtains.

Kurt saw Blaine's parents rise and leave.  He tried to follow, but from his position in the center of the row, it took him time to escape.  By the time he reached the parking lot, they were in the car.  He tried to run to them, but they were already moving.  He ended up standing in the middle of the lot, staring at their taillights as they turned onto the street.

* * *

Sunday was odd.  The early part of the day was spent fielding calls from people wondering why the wedding was cancelled.  Kurt wanted to avoid most of the callers, but wanted to talk to Blaine if he called, so he took the bad with the potential good and left his phone on.  His parents were stressed over the cancelled plans, and Finn was surly.  Finally, he logged onto his computer and found out he could switch to an earlier flight without penalty; as a matter of fact, it had space and his original flight was oversold, so changing earned him a free flight voucher he could use later.  He checked to make sure his dad could take him to the airport earlier, then changed his flight.  Sure, he'd be crammed into a middle seat, but at this point, anything that got him out of Ohio sooner was a sacrifice he was willing to make.  It was with a sigh of relief that he leaned his head against the seat back as the plane begin to taxi, willing his life to return to normal.

[1] Try Not to Cry by Greg Trooper, from the album Everywhere.