Kurt had dreaded this precise moment. He’d stood staring at the red uniform for what felt like hours until he realized that he’d be late if he didn’t put it on again and go to his new job. It was times like these when he wished he was back to just lounging around listening to movies or soundtracks rather than having to earn money for himself by working a job he couldn’t stand. Pretentious places which forced costumes instead of actual uniforms and dealing with drunk people were two of Kurt’s least favorite things in the world so why on Earth he’d accepted the job offer to work in Bar 17 was completely beyond him. He must have been desperate. Scratch that, he was desperate. Kurt had an idea in his head and he couldn’t do it without money. Well he had multiple plans, but it was a toss up of getting his own apartment or going to Paris which he was working on at the moment. Finally pulling on the hideous cheerleading outfit, Kurt locked the room behind him and took a steady walk to the bar.

It felt like he’d been there hours rather than a few minutes. He’d already had slurs in his direction and surprisingly been hit on quite a few times by the drunken students. All of it, the business, the people, the colleagues - who admittedly were lovely if not a little bit too easy and desperate - had left Kurt in a complete fluster muttering to himself as he put together a second round for a large table slowly to delay going over and having to deal with the obnoxious people sitting there.

Blaine sat thoughtfully at the all-too-familiar bench in front of his favorite piano in the music room as he just finished playing the same song for what seemed like the dozenth time. He hadn’t actually played it since high school, and that memory in itself was too much to bear as he glanced away from the keys beneath his fingers, moving his hands away from them and resting them on his thighs. There was something meaningful about this particular song that he had written, not for himself but for a close friend back in high school who had even more problems then he had at the time. But the mere thought of his past made him turn back to the keys, his fingers lingering over them gracefully for a moment before he mentally shook his head and got up from the bench. Climbing to his feet he grabbed his phone, slipping it in his back pocket as he edged his way out of the music room and down the hall.

Blaine shoved his hands into his jean pockets as he made his way out of the Music Department and onto the dark street, not really paying attention to where exactly he went. It was late, and he didn’t necessarily have any idea of where he was going, but he felt like he just needed to take some time away from the piano…he hid behind it after all, ever since he was a teenager that’s all he’d do. Eventually he raised his head enough to glance at a bar he had passed by once or twice in his entire time of going to Tisch. It was an interesting place to say the least, but he was in that mood of his where he just needed to flush away the bad memories, and there wasn’t a piano or guitar around so that only meant he had one choice left. As Blaine made his way into the rather crowded building he spotted a free seat at the bar and edge his way past too many students for him to really be able to count. Once he had taken a seat he rolled the sleeves of his button-down shirt just past his elbows as he waited patiently for someone at the bar to notice him enough to ask what he wanted to drink.