I’m a 27 year old fuck up who can’t do anything right. That was the mantra that kept running through Blaine’s head all morning. Nothing had gone right; his alarm hadn’t gone off so he was late, he missed his train and once he had made it to work, one of the senior partners had yelled at him for messing up a contract that he hadn’t even handled for that long. Everyone he worked with had heard since he was still an underling attorney with only a cubicle office.

He needed to escape the office at lunch and so he’d headed to a local coffee shop that was near his office. He’d picked up coffee, a medium drip, but nothing to go with it. He needed to concentrate on anything but how he’d managed to fuck up again and the hunger he felt was a good distraction.

He picked a corner table, away from most of the people having lunch and by the big window so he had an excuse to keep on his sunglasses. They helped him hide from the world while he was lost in his own mind. He could actually meet people’s eyes when he wore them without them knowing. He hated people looking into his eyes – he always felt like they could see too far into his thoughts.

Blaine sat there at the table for a while, book open in front of him thinking about his life. He knew he was a screw up – he had been since high school. His parents had made sure he’d known that, even though underneath it all he thought that they did love him. His father had been the best at making him feel like crap, he had his own mantras that Blaine heard constantly since he’d been in high school, “Good grades, Blaine. That’s all that matters! You’re grounded from seeing that boy until you’ve gotten back to all A’s again. . . . Why can’t you do anything right? We’ve given you everything – if you can’t get straight A’s you’re done – no more Warblers, no more music, no more boyfriend, no more extra-curriculars. . . . You’re such a fuck up, why can’t you see what’s important. . . . Are you that dim-witted?! God – your brother gets this why can’t you?! . . . . Get out of my presence I can’t even stand to look at you.” That last statement had been repeated at great length. Blaine could barely stand to look at himself now too; he saw the failure his father had always seen every time he looked in the mirror.

He’d ruined the only good relationship he’d ever had, gone running into the arms of a man who had single handedly taken everything else from him and had left him a shell of his former self. He’d let that man break his spirit. Everything that had once made him him was gone, even his family didn’t want him anymore. They never called, never checked on him and only made a brief appearance at his law school graduation because they knew it was expected.

He had celebrated that evening by himself – his parents left and his boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to take him out. He drank so much champagne that night by himself trying to celebrate his accomplishment and forget that everyone important to him didn’t care. He had been hung over for two days. His parents didn’t even see him anymore, choosing to look through him instead of help him.

His brother called occasionally, but was so wrapped up in his own life that he never even asked how Blaine was. His calls were always a list of how awesome his life was. Blaine didn’t blame him though; it was the way they’d been raised. It wasn’t his fault their parents considered him the golden child and Blaine the screwed up disappointment.

So here he was, finally in New York City because there was nowhere else for him to go and it was just so easy to not be noticed here. And that’s what he wanted – to not be noticed, to blend in, not stand out and just exist without fanfare. He sighed, and took another drink of his scalding hot coffee.

He’d been in the City for just about four months, moving as soon as he had passed the bar for the state. He’d finally found a job at a mid-level law firm, small enough that he didn’t have to work 80 hour weeks, but large enough he could remain unnoticed there as well. He did his work, went home, slept and went back. He didn’t go out, he didn’t think he deserved too. Everything he touched broke or deserted him so he tried not to – not to feel, not to reach out to anyone and definitely not to cause anyone to take any notice.

Life was so much easier as a nobody. It wasn’t that much more pleasant, being alone all the time, and realizing that he would be alone for the rest of his life. But it meant less pain and that was enough, the absence of pain made up for the absence of love. Together, the absences meant numbness and numbness was definitely better than hurt. Because he could no longer fool himself even – who would want to be with someone like him?

His first ex, the one he thought would love him forever, had left him without explanation. He’d figured it out over the years and now it made sense - he wasn’t good enough; he was garbage to be thrown away when he was used up and finished. And the last guy, he’d tried so hard to fix everything that had gone wrong with the first one, Kurt, but it ended even worse and now he knew for sure he was trash, not worth a second glance by anyone.

Occasionally, he let himself stop at this coffee shop near his office on his lunch break. He hated going into smaller stores and cafes because he didn’t like it when people spoke to him or looked directly in his eyes. In the past, he’d been the friendliest person of all his friends and family. He made friends with everyone he spoke with; he bounced with energy and had an infectious smile that none were immune too. But now, he preferred it if no one recognized him, no ties to anyone meant no one to confirm once again that he really was crap. If they didn’t know him, he didn’t have to have them hate him or leave him.

Blaine was lost in his thoughts, staring at his coffee, the forgotten book open in front of him or out the window. He knew he had to make it back to the office soon, but he was dreading it. He lingered, wanting to disappear into the woodwork. He enjoyed the sounds of those around him, as long as they didn’t approach him or try to get him to talk. The sound was comforting as was the smell of all the coffees, slightly tinted with pumpkin from the fall line of drinks. He sighed, wishing he was anywhere else, that he was anyone else except this loser that he’d become.

Kurt almost didn’t see him, let alone recognize him. He was off in a corner, back to the wall, with sunglasses on. He was hunched over, curling in on himself and appeared to be reading a book. If it weren’t for the mop of black curls that were slightly grown out, Kurt probably wouldn’t have even noticed him. Curls like his always caught his eye, because Kurt was always sub-consciously hoping they would belong to Blaine. He hadn’t seen or spoken to him in around eight years, but he always held him close to his heart and missed the hell out of him.

Kurt did a double take and for once those curls actually did belong to Blaine – or at least a man who looked so much like him he could be his twin. He kept eyeing the man over in the corner while he waited, making sure it was him. He saw him reach his hand up and run it through the loose curls. Kurt knew then it was him – he’d seen him make that same movement so many times in the past. He couldn’t help but stare, until the barista called out his order.

Kurt glanced away from Blaine, and walked up to the barista holding his coffee. He took the paper cup from her and left a generous tip. “Thanks, man!” She said, turning away and leaving him there, unsure of what to do. He made a quick decision, figuring that after eight years he should at least say hello. He turned back towards his ex and felt his feet move him closer.

He second guessed himself all the way up to Blaine’s table, but he knew it was him. Blaine was significantly thinner – his face showed gaunt lines that hadn’t been there when they had been younger. He was maybe a little taller from a late growth spurt after high school but it was hard to tell since he was sitting down. His face showed the thinness the most and his skin appeared to be paler than Kurt remembered it. He was wearing dark clothes that seemed to hang off him along with the sunglasses which were strange inside, although he was seated right next to a window. But his hair was the same, just longer and freed from the gelled prison Blaine kept it in during their high school and early college years.

“Blaine?” He said, more of a question than anything.

The other man looked up at the sound of his name, “Kurt?” He removed his sunglasses and laid them on his book, giving Kurt the first view of his eyes and marking his page. They looked darker than Kurt remembered with less sparkle, and had huge black circles under them. Quite frankly, he looked like hell warmed over. Blue eyes met hazel for just the briefest of seconds before Blaine’s moved lower, settling somewhere around Kurt’s collar.

“Hey Blaine! It’s, uh, been a long time, hasn’t it,” he said awkwardly, switching his coffee cup from one hand to the other.

“Yeah, it has, would um, you like to have a seat? I still have some of my coffee left if you’d like to join me,” Blaine wouldn’t quite meet Kurt’s eyes.

“Sure,” he pulled out the seat opposite Blaine thinking of how many times they had done this before, stealing glances across coffee cups, sharing smiles and laughing in their own little world. So much time had gone by since those days, but Blaine still desperately missed that time. His heart panged a bit at the thought.

Kurt settled back in his seat and took the lid off his coffee cup so it would cool faster. He looked up at Blaine who was obviously stealing glances at him but who still had trouble meeting his eyes. “So when did you get to the city? Last I heard from anyone you were still in school.”

“I, uh, moved here about four months ago, after I passed New York’s bar exam,” Blaine didn’t offer him any information more than absolutely necessary, it seemed. “What are you up to now, Kurt?” He steered the conversation away from himself quickly and skillfully, obviously someone who had learned how to do that quite well.

“I’m working for Vogue – nothing big but I do a lot of editing for them and have a little article of my own. It’s a great start into the industry, if it’s what I want to continue to do. I still sing some on the side too,” he laughed a little at himself, “It’s always been a toss-up with me which way to go and it seems I still can’t quite make up my mind.”

“That’s wonderful, Kurt!” Blaine’s eyes rose to meet his for just a few moments before they lowered to his coffee cup again. “It’s awesome you’re getting to do both things you love.” His voice sounded flat and hollow, even though Kurt could tell by his body language that he did mean what he was saying. Something seemed really off about Blaine. He seemed defensive and heavily guarded. Clearly, he was not excited about running into Kurt randomly. 

“Yeah, it’s a lot of work, but not so bad since I enjoy it. So what kind of law do you practice, Blaine? I can’t believe that you’ve already become an attorney – it seems like yesterday we were just kids!”

Blaine’s eyes skittered over the coffee shop and he fiddled with his coffee cup. “Well, I do a lot of different things. Mainly family law stuff and estates, you know that kind of thing.” He couldn’t have been much more ambiguous, but to Kurt at least it was some piece of information. He’d always regretted the way it had ended with Blaine, and especially hated that they’d lost touch, although that was mainly his fault. A silence fell between them as Blaine didn’t offer any other information about his life.

Blaine’s coffee cup had emptied in the silence. He glanced down at his watch, “Well, uh, I’d better get going. I have to get back to the office before too long. It was nice to see you, Kurt.” Blaine started to get up, grabbing his coat off of the bench next to him and gathering his things.

“Wait, Blaine, I’d love to see you again and catch up some more,” he reached for his wallet and pulled out his business card from Vogue. “It’s got all my info on it – call me or text or email or whatever,” Kurt tried to catch his eyes, which seemed to be looking anywhere but into Kurt’s. “We should get together.”

Blaine reached out and took the card, but didn’t offer Kurt one of his own. “Yeah, sure that’d be great,” his voice was still flat.

“Really, Blaine, I mean it. Please get a hold of me,” he reached out to put his hand on the other man’s arm. Blaine flinched a little under the touch, even though he was wearing a coat. He picked up his sunglasses and settled them back on his drawn face.

“Yeah, sure. Well, until another time then, Kurt,” Blaine’s mouth pulled up a little at the corners in the fakest of forced smiles. He turned on his heel and left. Kurt followed him out and watched his slightly hunched form leave, perplexed at how much Blaine appeared to have changed. He had always been so self-assured, his presence taking over whatever space he was in. His smile had been infectious and now it appeared to be completely missing.

Kurt sincerely hoped that he would hear from the other man, but doubted he would. Blaine didn’t appear to be the same open person Kurt had known years ago. Kurt leaned up against the building, contemplating what had just happened. Something had happened to Blaine - that much was clear. His boisterous personality was all but gone and even his choice of dress was so different from the way it had been.

He made a decision right then and there, that no matter what had happened in Blaine’s past or to Blaine, no matter how Kurt had hurt him a long time ago, he was going to try to reconnect with him even if it was just as friends. He hoped he could help change whatever it was in Blaine’s life that made him this way; he wanted to help get him back to the way he had been. Back to the boy who shouted Katy Perry songs at the top of his lungs, jumped up and down on any available furniture, knew where to get bubble machines and could make Kurt’s knees turn to jelly with just one twitch of his mouth.

Kurt watched him turn the corner a block down and as soon as he was out of sight, he headed in the opposite direction. Even Blaine’s walk seemed different. He’d always had a slight bounce of uncontrolled energy in his step. That was missing now. Kurt thought about Blaine all the way back to his office, deep in memories that seeing his high school love had dredged up. He had to have known Kurt was in the City, so why hadn’t he called or emailed or tried to get ahold of him in anyway?