Kurt put the finishing touches on his hair on Friday night. He was so thankful that he was finally in a hairstyle that had at least some resemblance to his “real” hair.

As he set down the can of hairspray, his eyes traveled to a stack of Valentine's Day cards, and a chill went down his spine. He had received a number of cards the week leading up to Valentine's Day the last time around, but there seemed to be more this time. The first time he thought they were from Blaine, but they turned out to be from Karofsky. This time around he assumed they were from Karofsky, but some of the messages were puzzling. A niggling voice in the back of his head kept reminding him that even though some things were different with Karofsky this time around—he hadn't kissed Kurt, and Sebastian had been nice (enough) to him—maybe the events around Valentine's Day were inevitable. If so, Karofsky only had days to live.

Kurt felt it like a punch in the gut.  He took a breath and resolved to worry about it later.

Kurt had awoken yesterday to discover that it was yesterday. Or tomorrow. At any rate, it was the day after he'd fallen asleep, and today was the next day. He wondered if the time traveling had stopped. Somehow the thought of that possibility made him deeply sad. He was starting to get things back on track, maybe. He had some hope that Blaine and he would be together, hopefully soon. However, as much as he loved Blaine in high school, somehow, miraculously he loved the man he had become even more. He missed that Blaine, and he wanted to see him now, not a few years from now.

I didn't matter. If he had to wait more years for Blaine to become that man again, Kurt would wait. It was worth it. Everything with Blaine was worth it.

Kurt gave his hair one more pat, and then he squared his shoulders. Time to meet Sebastian and sing whatever horror of a duet his new buddy had selected for him. Knowing that bastard, it was a McCartney-Jackson number. He hoped it was “Say, Say, Say” and not “The Girl is Mine.”

Kurt was at the bar ordering a Stoli and cranberry when he felt an arm wrap around his neck from the side and lips on his forehead. He turned his head up slightly to look at his friend, “Hi, Sebastian. Drink?”

“Why thank you, kind sir. I'll take a Courvoisier and a beer for my friend here.” Sebastian inclined his head.

Kurt opened his mouth to tell Sebastian that a place that served beer in cans was unlikely to have any kind of cognac, but then he turned his head to see where Sebastian was pointing with his head.

“Blaine! Hi!”

Blaine gave Kurt a bright, sunshine-y smile and a little, finger bending wave, “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Sebastian told me you're going to sing a solo tonight.”

Kurt turned toward Sebastian and raised an eyebrow, “A solo, huh?”

Sebastian gave Kurt a big, innocent smile, “Blaine is really excited to hear your solo. I already told the DJ what you're singing.”

Kurt groaned, imagining all the horrors that Sebastian could have picked, and he was about to tell Sebastian what he thought of his machinations when he caught the hopeful expression on Blaine's face.

“I can't wait to hear you, Kurt,” Blaine said. “I've heard you sing with the New Directions, but you're always part of the chorus. I want to hear you alone.”

“Well,” Kurt said, swinging a little from side to side, “I hope I don't disappoint.”

Two drinks later, Kurt's ears were starting to bleed from listening to one bad singer after another, and if he had to hear another queen murder Natalie Imbruglia's “Torn,” he was going to run out of the bar screaming. He was just ordering another drink and thinking that there might not be enough alcohol in the universe for Karaoke Night at Scandals when he heard the DJ say, “Well, folks, here's an oldie but a goodie. Give it up for Kurt singing ‘Superstar.'”

Superstar? The rap song? The Taylor Swift song? The Cypress Hill song? The overture from Jesus Christ Superstar?

Blaine gave Kurt a small push and a big smile, and Kurt bounded onto the stage with far more enthusiasm than he really felt. In his mind, he was plotting Sebastian's very painful death. Then the introduction began and Kurt's eyes grew wide.

Sebastian was the best wing man ever.

Kurt took a deep breath, looked right at Blaine and sang, “Long ago and oh so far away, I fell in love with you before the second show. Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear, but you're not really here. It's just the radio.”

Blaine looked mesmerized, and Kurt felt swallowed up by his whiskey eyes. He took another breath and continued, “Don't you remember you told me you loved me, baby? You said you'd be coming back this way again, baby. Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, baby, I love you. I really do.”

When Kurt got to the bridge, there was no one else in the room, at least not in Kurt's eyes. There was only Blaine, and Kurt poured every part of his soul into the lyrics, “Loneliness is such a sad affair, and I can hardly wait to be with you again. What to say to make you come again? Come back to me again and play your sad guitar.”

When Kurt finished, a hush fell over the crowd, and then they erupted in wild, drunken applause. Kurt heard none of it. He jumped off the stage, grabbed Blaine, and pulled him into a searing kiss.