“Mom, hi,” he said, answering it. He struggled with getting his car unlocked and not dropping anything as he got in.

“Hi, Sweetie,” Grace Anderson replied. “I was calling to check in on you.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Blaine told him. “I just talked to you last night.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “What’s going on?”

“Your father called.” Blaine sighed. He hated this. He hated that it had to be like this. All his father did was hurt his mother but she still hoped that he would come around so that they could be a family again.

Blaine was pretty sure that was never going to happen, considering that Blaine was kissing men both on and off screen these days.

In the early days, Blaine had thought maybe he and his dad just had a hard time relating to each other, that they didn’t have anything in common. His father’s attempts to “bond” with him destroyed that theory, and Blaine began to resent his father for trying to make him straight.

“What did he want?” Blaine finally spoke.

“To check in,” Grace answered. “He’s still your father; he’s still my husband, Blaine.”

“In name only, Mother,” Blaine reminded her. “He’d divorce you if he didn’t think it would cause a scandal and reflect badly on his precious career.”

“Blaine, he loves you,” she insisted.

“Yeah, well, if that’s his idea of love, I don’t want any part of it,” Blaine muttered.

“He sends his congratulations on your Emmy win,” she continued, pressing it. “That’s something.”

“Sure it is,” Blaine agreed. “It means that he’s coming around to realize that I’m good at the ‘faggy acting thing’ and now he wants a piece of the pie.”

“Blaine Anderson!” Grace nearly screeched. Blaine sighed. He hadn’t meant to upset his mother, but she knew how angry he still was with his father, and still she pushed. He was never gladder that he’d gotten emancipated though. It meant no matter how much money he made, no matter how much his father wanted it, he couldn’t dictate Blaine’s life anymore.

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Blaine murmured. “I just can’t give him what he wants from me.”

“Sweetie, I really think he’s trying this time.”

“Sure he is,” Blaine said. “That’s why he waited nearly two weeks before calling to congratulate me. Good to know I’m still an afterthought in his life.”

“Blaine,” his mother began, sounding distressed.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Blaine cut her off. “I know you think that he’s coming around, I know you’re just trying to help. Please, just… don’t okay?” He felt bad when she sniffled. “I gotta go, Mom. I’m on my way to the set.”

“Just… think about what I said,” she managed one last plea.

“Fine,” Blaine sighed again. “I love you, Mom.”

His mother whispered her love and then hung up.

Blaine tossed the his phone down onto the passenger seat, before attacking the steering wheel with both hands, pounding it harshly and letting out a scream of frustration.

*

“It was crazy,” Toby laughed, taking a sip of his coffee. “Are the Warbler council meetings always like that?”

James smiled, his eyes drifting up and down Toby’s body, taking in the way his new Dalton uniform fit. “Sometimes it’s worse,” Blaine laughed. “Just be glad no one threw any gavels.”

“I can’t believe they’re really like that,” Toby continued. “I really thought you were over-exaggerating.”

“Now you know I have all my sanity,” James replied. Toby reached out and touched his hand, and James grasped it tightly.

“I love you,” Toby said quietly. James’ mouth fell open and he searched for something to say in reply.

“Cut!” the director called, sounding annoyed.

Things hadn’t improved much when Blaine had gotten to the set. Sebastian was in rare form, his obnoxious personality in overdrive, making it so Blaine had a difficult time with the scene they were shooting.

“What is your deal, Anderson?” Sebastian snapped. “That’s the fourth time you’ve missed your line.”

“I’m sorry, all right,” Blaine muttered. “It’s been a long day.”

“Get it together,” Sebastian continued. “You and I are Dalton’s ‘it’ couple, like it or not, so start freaking acting like it.”

The director came over and gave him a few notes as well and Blaine resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. He just had to get through this scene, and then he could go home and talk to Kurt.

Kurt.

The thought of his boyfriend brought a smile to his lips. He suddenly knew how he was going to get through this scene.

*

Going home should have been the best part of his day. It was, actually, until Blaine had called Kurt. They hadn’t been able to talk much recently – Kurt’s prediction about being busy had come true. Kurt’s time was filled with Cheerios' practice, glee, the student election, and now his father’s bid for Congress. Blaine had hardly been able to believe the news that Burt was running, but he hoped that Burt won – Ohio needed all the help it could get.

The generic greeting reached his ears – I’m sorry, the number you’ve called is no longer in service.

Panic filled Blaine then. He didn’t know what to think. Kurt’s phone had been working earlier, the number just fine. He dialed again, getting the same message.

He dialed Kurt’s house, but there was no answer. Blaine went to the computer, but Kurt was not online. He sent off a quick email to Kurt.

Hi,

I noticed your cell number is disconnected. What’s going on? Is everything okay? Call me as soon as you get this.

I love you,
Blaine

He crawled into bed an hour later, when no answer was immediately forth coming. He pulled the covers up, telling himself that it wasn’t the same thing. Kurt wouldn’t do what he’d done before – cutting Blaine off without a word.

Blaine knew he hadn’t done anything anyway and even if he had, he and Kurt had promised to talk with each other.

Still, a little nugget of doubt crept in and set up shop in his brain, haunting his thoughts and even his dreams when sleep finally came.