Blaine set the last of his boxes down on the ground and stretched his arms letting his shoulders pop. He sighed and looked around at the foyer of his new home. Polished wood floors and dark wood paneling, shining in the soft yellow glow of the antique lighting fixtures.

Blaine rubbed the back of his neck and walked to the living room. Nothing was unpacked yet, but his couch was there, he plopped down on it, exhausted by a day of moving. He should have taken Wes up on his offer to come out to San Francisco and help him settle in. Instead, Blaine had opted for moving all on his own, wanting to get his new home set up and ready before any of his friends or family came to visit.

It was going to be strange at first, living so far from anyone he knew. Though Cooper was in Los Angeles at least. His parents were still back in Ohio. Wes had settled down in Virginia with his wife. And most of his friends from NYU had stayed in New York after graduation. And here was Blaine, nearly 3,000 miles from the city he'd always thought would be his home.

As Blaine looked around at the cream colored walls and big beautiful bay windows of his new house he couldn't really feel disappointed. Sometimes life didn't work out the way you planed, and sometimes that was okay.

After graduating from NYU Blaine had a few freelance jobs writing music for some local productions. Scores for small musicals and sometimes little jiggles for commercials. His big break came when a producer heard some of his music when he went to see his daughter in an off Broadway production Blaine had written for.

Before Blaine knew what was happening he was collaborating on scores for major Broadway plays and then even writing music for movies. It didn't happen over night, but two years after graduating Blaine was becoming a fairly well know composer in Hollywood so he decided to move to California. He almost moved to L.A., after all that's were most of Hollywood's elite was, plus Cooper lived there, but there was just something about San Francisco Blaine couldn't resist. The hills, the bay, the culture. He wanted to be there.

When his realtor told him about this old Victorian townhouse that was on the market from much less than other similar houses Blaine was skeptical.

"What's wrong with it?" Blaine asked.

His realtor raise her perfectly sculpted eyebrows, "Nothing's wrong with it.", Angie said.

"Really? Because other houses in the same area and with the same square footage are going for a lot more. And this one is in amazing shape. What's wrong with it?"

"Fine." Angie relented, "People say it is haunted."

"No but really."Blaine laughed,"What's wrong?"

"That's it. It is a great house, but people are superstitious. Something bad happened there a while ago and now people think it is haunted."

"That's all?" Blaine said as he glanced at the pictures of the beautiful old home. He had never been superstitious and he certainly didn't believe in ghost.

"That's really all."

Blaine smiled, "I want to see it."

As soon as Blaine had seen the house he knew he wanted it, they drew up papers that day. Blaine felt like he belonged there.

Now that Blaine was actually here the feeling of belonging was even stronger. Everything about this house was perfect. From the crown molding, to the pale yellow walls in the kitchen, and the big clawfoot tub in the bathroom, which obviously wasn't part of the original house, since it had indoor pluming, but still fit perfectly with the Victorian style. Whomever had lived here before had spent a great deal of time, money and care updating the house while still keeping to its antique roots, and Blaine thought it was all just...perfect.

A moving company had helped him move his furniture in, so it was all in the proper rooms, but none of his boxes were unpacked yet. He watched the sunset outside from his window and decided unpacking could wait until tomorrow. His stomach growled and he decided that eating couldn't.

An hour and a half and a delivered pizza latter Blaine was quietly roaming his new home. Downstairs was the foyer, a good sized living room, the kitchen, the dinning room, a storage closet under the stairs and a half bath. Upstairs was the master bedroom, a study, the full bath and a rather large guest room. Blaine had decided to use the guest room as his own, the study for a guest room (he had a feeling Cooper would be visiting a lot), leaving the bigger master bedroom for his music room. That is where he'd spend most of his time anyway.

He walked through the music room and ran his fingers over the keys of his piano. He grimaced at the sound. He'd need to tune that soon, moving hadn't done it any favors. The music room was mostly empty of boxes at this point. It contained his piano, because Blaine was a purest and loved the sound of an actual piano, though he owned a keyboard as well. His guitar was there too, and the desk that he rarely used, doing most of his writing at his piano, fingers on the keys and a pencil in his mouth.

The room was beautiful, with a big fireplace and a view of the bay from its windows. He knew it was going to be his favorite room of the house.

Blaine stifled a yawn and decided to hit the sack early. Tomorrowwould be a long day of unpacking and cleaning and settling in. He wanted to get everything perfect in his new house before exploring his new city.

Blaine went to his room and found the box marked "Bedroom Linens" opened it and pulled out a pair of sheets and a pillow, he quickly made his bed, knowing he'd find his comforter and a pillow case tomorrow, this was enough for now. He slipped under the covers, the exhaustion of moving catching up with him, and quickly fell asleep feeling peaceful and at home.