Even on a Tuesday night, the karaoke bar was bustling. Classes really hadn't gotten into full swing, and students were still trying to hold on to the remnants of summer. Music poured from the building as an upbeat song came to an end. Kurt slid in behind a group of giggling girls, freshmen, Kurt assumed.

Only then could Kurt guess the girls had been giggling over. Blaine danced on stage- possibly drunk. Then again, Kurt had always thought Blaine danced a little drunkenly, a consideration he'd known to keep to himself.

A much better indication of how much that boy had been drinking was the ragged state of the curls that flew free from their raspberry prison, the dots of sweat that beaded his forehead. He'd probably been up there for quite a while- Blaine always had been a mic-hog when he was a little wasted. Kurt figured he'd wooed some upperclassman girl into buying him drinks. One thing about being a tan, muscular, gay man with lustrous dark hair was that he knew exactly how to sweet-talk a lady.

Kurt slid away from the door as a new song started up, the beat matching his own pounding heart. Blaine walked back to the front of the stage from talking to the band and pressed his lips to the mic. Which was probably not entirely sanitary. That always made Kurt cringe.

Late night

 Step on the carousel

 And spend all night

 Spinning round and round

 Hold tight

 And no don't you let go

 Until daylight

 Pours through your window

 I long for the smell of your hair,

 The smell of your hair

As much as he hated to admit it- and would never confess such a thing to anyone but himself- he had missed hearing Blaine sing with that slightly rough, yet incredibly smooth voice. Such a statement, Kurt knew, contradicted itself- at least until that beautiful boy opened his mouth. He had missed the way Blaine got so intimate with the mic (save for the actually tasting it). How Kurt could feel the words that passed those brilliant pink lips. And how everything around him seemed to melt away.

And all this time

 In a hiding place, in a hiding place

 All our lives, with a melody all our own

 All this time

 Yeah we might as well, we might as well

 Close our eyes, singing a melody all our own

And he had done it again. Kurt had drifted off into the comfort and familiarity of the boy who was no longer his. Brought back only by the unsettling realization that those hazel eyes were fixed upon his own, even as Blaine grabbed the mic and held his body close- too close- to the mic stand.

Sometimes

 We talk on the telephone

 Running dry

 The conversation slows

 Red lights

 And plans not set in stone

 Well I'm up all night

 Until you get home

 I long for the smell of your hair,

 The smell of your hair

As he prepared to repeat the chorus, Blaine slid his fingers down the stand, gripping it with white knuckles, as if it'd slip away no matter how tightly he held it. As if he was holding on to something dear, as if he'd turn to dust if he let go.

And all this time

 In a hiding place, in a hiding place

 All our lives, singing a melody all our own

 All this time

 Yeah we might as well, we might as well

 Close our eyes, singing a melody all our own

With the end of the song, Blaine ripped his eyes away from Kurt, scanning the crowd. He winked at the group of girls who had come in before Kurt. The students cheered as Blaine stumbled backward and let out a loud "WHOO!" before staggering off stage, meeting Kurt's eyes just once more. Something flashed in his eyes, something Kurt had never seen before. For the first time since the boys had met at Dalton three years ago, Kurt couldn't read Blaine. It was unsettling. That look burned into Kurt's mind. And it was over in an instant, leaving Kurt confused, dazed. Blaine had already rejoined a group of older girls across the room before Kurt had even processed the encounter.

--

"Kurt."

Rachel's voice startled Kurt out of his confusion. Kurt wasn't sure how long he had been standing there in the back of the room.

"Are you okay Kurt?"

"Yeah, ready to go?" It was more of a statement than a question, as Kurt made his way to the door, leaving Rachel to hastily kiss Brody, who chased her lips sloppily as she pulled away, and follow him out.

--

The train ride home was achingly silent. Rachel had asked if Kurt wanted to talk- Kurt simply sighed, and as nosey as Rachel could be, she too understood the pain of lost love and forgotten dreams and broken promises.