“Come in,” Carl called, his voice muffled through the thick oak. Blaine pushed the door open after taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked.

“Come in, Blaine,” his father instructed. “Shut the door.” Blaine did as he asked, moving further into the room. His father was seated behind the desk, making notes on some important looking documents. “I assume you know why I asked you in here?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Blaine replied. His father looked up from his paperwork, meeting Blaine’s gaze.

“If I’ve taught you nothing else, Blaine, it’s that image is everything,” Carl said, “especially in your line of work.” The tone in his father's voice made it sound like Blaine’s line of work was beneath him. Blaine could feel himself bristling, but he held it in. He should have known this was coming. He wondered how much it hurt his father to hold everything in over the course of the week.

“I’m aware,” Blaine agreed stiffly.

“Then you’re also aware that there is a time and a place for displays of affection, Blaine,” Carl told him.

“Wait – this is about my kissing Kurt in public?” Blaine asked, a little incredulous.

“You’ve insisted on this career despite my objections and you even seem to be good at it,” his father began. “You insist that you’re gay-"

“I am gay, Father,” Blaine cut him off. “I’ve repeatedly told you that it’s not a choice. I can’t just turn it off and on. People don’t work that way, being gay doesn’t work that way.”

“Nevertheless, I expect you to consistently act with decorum and keep in mind that your actions reflect not only on yourself but also the rest of your family.”

“What did I do that was so terrible?” Blaine wanted to know. “I kissed my boyfriend in front of some photographers. It’s not like I had sex with him against the side of the building.”

“How dare you?” Blaine’s father hissed, his temper flaring.

“How dare you!?” Blaine couldn’t help raising his voice. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Kurt and I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m sure his father doesn’t want him parading around in the streets for the cameras like some whore,” Blaine’s father shouted back. Blaine’s mouth fell open.

“He is not a whore! God, I can’t win with you,” Blaine snapped. “You’re judgmental and prejudiced and homophobic and who knows what else.” He sucked in a deep breath. “When are you going to realize that your views on the world are antiquated and wrong?”

“When are you going to start taking responsibility for your actions?” Blaine’s father countered. “When are you going to stand up and make amends for you wrongdoings?” Blaine just stared at his father. It was like nothing was getting through to him. “It’s not the first time this has happened – I saw that article about you and your co-star at that club, and that was after you started dating Kurt.”

“I have no interest in Sebastian. He kissed me against my will and it happened to get caught on camera!” Blaine was beyond caring who heard him at this point. “But thanks for your concern, Father, I’m fine.”

Carl stared at him for a long moment.

“You know,” Blaine sniffled, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “I’m so tired of doing this. This is why I filed for emancipation. You don’t see your son when you look at me. You just see disappointment and failure.” He laughed bitterly. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected that this week would work out. Why would you be different now?”

“It’s not right, Blaine,” his father’s voice sounded hollow. “It’s not right for you and that boy…”

“He has a name. It’s Kurt,” Blaine replied. “He’s going to be your son-in-law one day, so I suggest you get used to using it.”

His father paled, his hands gripping the edge of the mahogany desk in front of him. “You will not marry him. He’s barely even a boy!”

Blaine’s eyes narrowed. “What, so suddenly having a higher pitched voice and enjoying fashion makes you a girl? Good to know. I’ll make a note,” he choked out the words. His father remained silent. “Marriage equality has been passed in about eight states now, including New York,” Blaine reminded him. “You think you’re going to stop me? You have no control over anything I do.”

“Blaine, please,” his father sighed. “For once in your life, would you please listen to me?”

“No,” Blaine told him. “Not about this; never about this.”

The room fell silent.

“Then you’ve given me no choice,” Carl finally said. “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

Blaine knew he should protest. His mother would want his father to stay. She said she loved him, claimed there was good in him, but Blaine was done. This was the last straw.

“No. You made your own choices. You don’t get to blame this on me,” Blaine murmured. “Goodbye, Father.” It came out in a whisper and then Blaine let himself out of the room, pulling the door closed. The click of the door shutting behind him was like a gunshot firing and Blaine felt like he was swimming underwater for the entire walk to his bedroom. He could feel the eyes of Kurt, his mother and Kurt’s family on him as he passed through the living room, but he didn’t even look up.

He just went into his room and shut the door.

*

When Blaine followed his father into the study, a feeling of foreboding stole over Kurt. Nothing good would come from that conversation, he could feel it. Sure enough, raised voices echoed into the living room. They had been discussing the musical until that moment. It was hard to make out the words, but not who was saying them.

Blaine was shouting and he was not happy. Blaine’s father raised his voice in return and Kurt was pretty sure Carl Anderson had just called him a whore. Burt started to rise, as if he was going to go in there, but Carole put a warning hand on his arm. He glanced at Kurt, and settled back into his seat. Kurt wondered what his face must look like to cause that kind of reaction in his dad.

Grace looked mortified.

Kurt twisted his promise ring around his finger, the thin circle of metal already feeling at home on his finger. If he had his way, he’d never take it off. He was desperate to go in there, to help Blaine, but he knew Blaine had to do this on his own.

Blaine came stumbling out of the study a moment later, walking by them as if he didn’t even see them there, and went into his room, the door closing quietly behind him.

Kurt exchanged worried glances with his parents and then Grace. He got up and followed Blaine, knowing that Grace would be going in to speak with Blaine’s father.

“Blaine?” Kurt said his name softly. Blaine was curled up on the bed, trembling. Kurt slipped into the room and closed the door, before crossing over to the bed and climbing in with Blaine. He wrapped his arms around Blaine, pressing his chest to Blaine’s back, holding him tightly.

“Why am I not enough?” Blaine asked hoarsely, tears slowly starting to trail down his cheeks. “Nothing I ever do is good enough for him and I’m sick of it. I’m just… done.”

“My father always says that a parent’s job is to love their kids no matter what,” Kurt murmured. “It’s not you who’s wrong, Blaine. It’s him.”

“Then why do I feel like this?” Blaine stuttered out, letting his tears overtake him.

“Because you love him,” Kurt told him softly. “Because he’s your dad and you want him to love you.”

Blaine sobbed in his arms, his arms resting on Kurt’s, making it impossible for Kurt to move away (not that he would have). Kurt held Blaine tightly as Blaine cried himself to sleep.