He had woken to find that Finn, in his infinite stupidity, had forgotten to check the shower bar before turning on the water and had drenched the shirt as well as the vest hanging next to it. Kurt supposed that he had a hand in this turn of events, since he had been so distracted before going to bed that he had forgotten to bring his clothes upstairs, but still. It did not bode well for the rest of the day when he was already exhausted, his skin in horrible shape due to lack of sleep, and his mind was swimming with questions.

Things had only gotten worse when he had run into Santana on the way into school again. He had tentatively walked toward the door when she had opened it for Brittany, only to have Santana notice him and bite out, “Jesus, Hummel. Which one of us is the girl here?”

He had followed behind them, listening intently as Santana had regaled Brittany with the story of her mother calling her doctor early this morning when she swore it was yesterday upon waking, and that she was calling someone if they didn’t figure out how she missed a whole day in some kind of short-term-memory-loss fog because of her new allergy medication.

Kurt had felt like he had been punched.

So sitting here, now, with Glee Club about to start, he has no real motivation to talk to anyone or do, well, anything really. Not when apparent allergy-medicine-induced camaraderie was all yesterday was for Santana.

He really is alone again.

He’s sitting in his chair, wallowing in these thoughts when a commotion in the doorway pulls him out of his reverie.

Santana’s pushing Puck through the door, loudly berating him.

“What were you even doing there? You know it’s the library, right? You’re supposed to be singing today. Apparently I did yesterday so you’re not getting out of singing to us that easily.” She stuffs Puck in the chair next to Kurt’s and Kurt has time to actually look at him now that he’s not being manhandled.

Puck looks like he’s terrified to be in the choir room. This alone gives Kurt pause, but it’s his appearance as well. It looks like he - well, it looks like he dressed nicely for the day. While Kurt’s pondering this strange development Puck turns his head and looks into him.

Not at him. Into him. He’s never really felt like someone has looked into him except...well...Santana. Just yesterday and-

“You look so nice today, Kurt.” Puck says, dropping his eyes and-

Kurt’s eyes widen and really, his eyes must be playing tricks on him because Puck is blushing. Honest to god, BLUSHING. Kurt feels his face drain and his limbs go slack because something is seriously going on around here. Something that he needs to get to the bottom of because if not, he knows he will surely begin to lose his mind.

“Uhhum,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and starting again, “That means ever so much coming from someone as fashionable as yourself,” he gets out, watching as Puck seems to blanch, his whole body pulling in, eyes shuttering and pulling from Kurt’s gaze.

Kurt flounders for a moment, wondering where to go from here. It takes a moment before he finds a thread and grasps it.

“What were you doing in the library, anyway? You know the last time you almost got Santana suspended.” Kurt eyes Puck, waiting to see his reaction. It comes smoothly and quickly, and Kurt almost misses the astonished look on Puck’s face - would’ve if he hadn’t been looking for it - before Puck’s replying.

“Oh, that? I, um, I thought they got over that.” Puck tries a laugh, but to Kurt’s ears it sounds forced and hesitant.

Yes. Something strange is going on.

“Yeah, so I don’t think Santana will forget anytime soon. Blaming someone for setting fire to the nonfiction section regarding pyrotechnics is not usually the way to go, so...”

Kurt watched Puck take this in, knowing full well it was a flat-out lie. Whoever would do something like that would have been expelled. Puck’s face twitched and then he smiled and Kurt knew the jig was up.

“Well, I’m sure the librarian enjoyed the show, so they should all get over it, right?” Puck replied and Kurt had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

Puck had no idea he was lying.

***

Blaine knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He watched as Kurt’s eyes grew very wide and then narrowed to slits.

“Who are you?” Kurt hissed, his voice wavering. “What have you done with the Puck I know? None of this is making any sense.”

Kurt shook himself as if trying to pull his thoughts together and Blaine swiveled in his chair to pay attention to the Glee teacher, who had just entered the room.

“Alright, guys. This week’s theme continues and we’re going to jump right in with Puck’s take on Unrequited Love. Okay? Show us whatcha got, Puck!”

Blaine glances at Kurt’s face, but he’s staunchly turned away from him. He sighs and stands up, feeling every bit as nervous as his body language is projecting. He doesn’t see Kurt watching him, a look of confusion on his face. He doesn’t notice how every person in Glee club seems confused about his quiet manner. He just walks over to the piano player, whispers his song choice in his ear, and watches him nod. The man begins to play and he waits for the cue.

I’m invisible
Float across the floor
You can’t even see me.

Drift through walls and tables
And you still don’t believe me
I’m not one to give up
But I feel I’m at a loss...

Blaine listens to Puck’s voice singing a song he had memorized as soon as he had heard it. Blaine knew that it was a song about him the second it played, about wanting to be with people and not being able to. Or, for the first time, wanting to be with someone. Like now. He holds himself together until the last note, keeps his face clear of the turmoil in his chest, but one tear betrays him. He has time to wonder if Puck is the type to cry a lot before deciding to just leave the room, to find a place to pull himself together before bits of his soul start showing to all these strangers.

Especially Kurt.

His feet pound the linoleum and the tears are thick on his cheeks now, tracking toward his chin and slipping onto his shirt as he searches for a place to hide. Eventually he finds a random handicapped bathroom - the kind with one door and one lock, and he grabs at the door, hoping it’s vacant. His fingers slip and he curses himself. He’s never felt so lost - so utterly and completely broken as he does right now. Everything around him is Kurt Kurt Kurt and he’s breaking all his rules and-

It is vacant, and he pulls at the door handle, the door creaking in distress as he pulls it open hard, flicking the light on with his left hand and moving to push the door closed. Before he can succeed, however, a white boot is between the door and the doorjamb, blocking it from closing Blaine off from the world.

He looks up, right into those blue eyes and he knows he can’t hide from them. Not now and maybe not ever. But he has to try. Try not to interfere. Try not to get too attached.

Too late he thinks and then Kurt is speaking.

“Just...just let me help you,” Kurt begins, pushing the door open until it’s resting on Blaine’s hip where he’s trying to force it closed again. “I just- I know something’s not right and I just want to help, okay? Please?”

The pleading in Kurt’s voice stops Blaine’s struggling, and before he knows it Kurt’s in the bathroom, looking around at the tile floor and sniffing his disdain.

“You couldn’t have found a better place to have a breakdown?” Kurt sighs, “I mean, we can’t even SIT in here.”

Blaine finds this immediately amusing, laughing in spite of himself.

“Well, there is a TOILET, Kurt...” he begins, but the alarmed look on Kurt’s face has him in the giggles, and he’s wiping his cheeks dry as Kurt glares at him.

“You’re so not funny at all,” Kurt mumbles primly before walking closer to Blaine and reaching for his arm. He almost makes it - almost - before he’s looking at his hand like it’s a snake and pulling it back to wrap around himself.

Blaine stills, searching Kurt’s face. “Why do you do that?” he asks, searching Kurt’s eyes and motioning to his hand.

Kurt’s face hardens and he stiffens his back, straightening up to full height.

“I don’t think we’re here to talk about me. What’s going on with you?”

Blaine looks away, wondering if he can ever talk to Kurt about this and wishing he could all in the same breath.

“I...it’s just been a bad week, okay?”

Kurt stares at him, his eyes raking over Puck’s face like a pumice stone, shredding whatever mask is placed there.

“I don’t believe you. You haven’t called me ‘dude’ once in this conversation. That alone is grounds for an inquisition.”

Blaine feels the corners of Puck’s mouth pull up in earnest, but he thinks now might not be the time to start laughing again.

“I-” he begins, thinking of the state of his room this morning and the non-existent parents in the house, “I think that we’re going to lose our apartment, okay man? So I’m a little worried and you just need to...” he falters, not wanting to say any more but thinking that Puck may. “...back off, okay?”

Kurt recoils a bit as though slapped and then steps back a few times, blinking hard and gripping himself tighter.

“O-ok. I just. I thought that...yesterday was...alright. I’m sorry for prying, I’ll just go.”

He takes another long look at Blaine, right into his eyes and for a moment Blaine thinks that he’ll actually stay.

But no.

He watches as Kurt turns and pulls the door open roughly, leaving him alone with the white tiles and little else.
***
Day 2558, Age: 18, Time: 20:39.

Facts of the Day:

� male of unknown ethnic origin
� Name: Noah Puckerman (‘Puck’)
� upper lower class
� Straight male; unattached

B-
Today was hard. So hard. I tried to hide from Kurt because I knew I was still in Ohio and I knew I would see him once I saw my face in the mirror and realized I was in Glee like Santana was yesterday. It didn’t work out that way, though.

Waking up as Puck was hard because no one was in the house. For all I know there’s still no one there because I’m at the library. He had few photos, but he did have a phone, which had a picture of him and a beautiful blonde baby as the wallpaper. Trying to wrap my head around him was hard, though. His clothes and haircut suggest punk, but that picture...it just didn’t add up.

I got to school late because it’s been awhile since I landed in someone who had a manual vehicle and then I had to find the school from Puck’s tiny apartment. Thank god he had data on his phone. Google Maps for the win.

The morning was uneventful but at Glee time, when I tried to hide, Santana came and literally dragged me out of the library.

It felt like an out-of-body experience.

He was there and I just couldn’t take it. I had to say something to make him smile at me - just, anything to make him happy but it backfired and I totally brought attention to myself.

I lost it today. I just - he’s just so much and I just want to know him. Something about him makes me want so much more than what I have.

I want him.

I want him to want me.

I mean, not like, WANT ME, want me. Just...want to be with and talk to the actual me.

He seems too lonely and nice and just good and full of life and I just-

For the first time this is just really and truly not fair.

-B