It would be fair to say that Blaine was confused.

Yesterday Kurt had kissed him out of the blue, right in the middle of an argument. Not that he was complaining, because it was a really, really good kiss, like top 3. What confused him was how Kurt had suddenly broken the incredibly good, teeth grazing, lip pulling, tongue twisting kiss, looked at him with a surprised face and then left. No comment, no goodbye, just left Blaine there in the middle of the stage.

So yeah, Blaine was confused.

Sorting out his feelings didn't become any easier when Kurt pointedly ignored him the rest of the evening.

Blaine wasn't sure what he felt about the whole thing, because even though Kurt was pretty hot, he was also an angry arrogant hothead that had shown no inkling of liking Blaine prior to the lip lock. In fact, if you had asked Blaine twenty-four hours ago he would have said that Kurt was the person that liked him the least at the summer programme. The whole thing was giving him a headache.

The thing was, Blaine hadn't exactly been blind to Kurt's good looks before yesterday. The boy was ethereally beautiful with his pale skin, blue eyes and long limbs. Watching him move had made music pour forward in Blaine's mind, hearing him sing had given him an ear-gasm and that kiss had taken what was a tinkling little melody in Blaine's heart and blown it up into a full scale symphony. So yes, he was attracted to Kurt, drawn to him subconsciously. However, the practical part of Blaine's brain was digging its heels in and fighting him every step of the way.

'Never let yourself fall for someone that will hurt you,' it yelled and Blaine knew that if he let him, Kurt would stomp his heart into the ground with those fancy boots he always wore. Besides, he didn't like guys that acted like assholes, no matter how gorgeous they were.

Blaine sighed and decided that he had better get out of bed and head to class. He looked over at the case containing his violin. He didn't look forward to his violin lesson today or his practise later with Kurt, which would be awkward.

He thought back to yesterday's discussion with the Dean of the summer programme and his argument with Kurt He had thought he had got over his aversion for the violin, but right now he felt like he was going to puke just by looking at it, something that did not bode well for his performance at the concert.

He had spent most of his life with a bow in his right hand and a violin tucked under his chin, practising his technique inside while the neighbourhood children played outside. Hours of practise every day, all to see his parents proud faces shining up at him when he stood up on some stage in front of an orchestra of much older people that were there to play back-up. He had hated it, but kept going because that was what his parents wanted and more than anything else, Blaine wanted to be the son his parents could be proud off.

It didn't matter that he had no friends, he wasn't allowed to play rough games anyway, the risk of injuring his hands was too high. When his parents took him out of school and hired a private teacher he accepted it, but on the inside he felt emptier than ever before.

When he was twelve he'd had enough. One day he woke up, looked over at his violin and literarily threw up. His parents had been worried that he was sick and wouldn't be able to perform at his concert that night. "I can't play anymore," little Blaine had told them, and they had patted his head and told him to stop saying such silly things. They didn't say that anymore when he had got sick all over the stage floor that night.

He got a few days off then, but the next week he was supposed to play with the San Francisco symphony and his mother had packed his suit and dragged him on to the plane.

Blaine remembered how he had arrived at the concert hall, met with the musical director, the conductor and the first violinist in a haze. He remembered trembling so hard in rehearsal that one of the women in the second row of strings had stood up and called the whole thing to a halt because she was one of the few that had noticed his knees buckling like on a new born calf. His mother had been furious even if he did finish the rehearsal after a little nap and a juice box.

The next day had been amazing, because his big brother Cooper had come over from Berkeley to spend the day with him. Blaine's big brother was eleven years his senior, but doted on his baby brother. Cooper had taken him out for ice cream and talked about sports and comics, and never mentioned the violin for a second.

That evening he had been standing backstage, waiting for his cue to go out in front of the full house and he had started to tremble again. He remembered looking down on his hands and noticing them shake. Then his heart had started pounding in his ears, and suddenly he had felt really hot inside his head, like someone had flooded his brain with warm soup.

The next thing Blaine remembered was waking up in the emergency room, hooked up to an IV and Cooper stroking his hair as his mother yelled at the doctors in the background. Anxiety attack and dehydration was the official explanation, but after that Blaine didn't set a foot on a stage for several years and his violin gathered dust.

After loosing their child protégé his parents didn't know what to do with themselves for a while, but before six months had passed they had buried themselves in their work and suddenly Blaine was a key chain kid that came home to an empty house, after a life of being chauffeured around and coddled by his parents.

The sounds of Sam groaning under his blankets brought Blaine's thoughts to an end. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and shuffled over to the dresser to grab a t-shirt and pulled on some red shorts. It was another warm day and he would be damned if he wasn't at least comfortable.