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Backwardsmuffin
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Number 2

Bucket lists. A surprising number of people have them, even Kurt Hummel. He's tried to complete his bucket-numbers; he really has. But there is one on that list that he knows for sure, he will never achieve


M - Words: 7,484 - Last Updated: Apr 18, 2012
562 1 2 0
Categories: Angst, Drama, General, Romance,
Characters: Blaine Anderson, Jeremiah, Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Sebastian Smythe,
Tags: friendship, OMG CREYS, hurt/comfort,

Author's Notes: I should be doing other stuff. I'm not. I'm writing angst.....Inspired by a post on Tumblr. In this we see a screen shot of Hummel Tires and Lube, where a yellow ribbon is tucked away in a draw. A yellow ribbon stands for two things, support our troops and also teen suicide awareness. Here's my imagination running away slightly with the last one. (Especially with the ‘your glee club saved my kid's life' line, which we will ignore for the purposes of this fic). How bad did it really get for Kurt?This may contain Triggers. If you suffer from depression related issues (self-harm, eating disorders etc.),then I advise you not to read this if you are feeling down...or if you feel you may be triggered by any of the issues relating. Reader discretion is advised.Let's say that page breaks (those crummy little X's, because i can't work htmls) are time lapses....different lengths for each, but the timeline here follows canon for at least the first half, so it should be easy to follow.
Number 2


Bucket lists. A surprising number of people have them.

Whether they be only in your mind, some place you dig up when a new opportunity arises, or in an immaculate journal with each entry lovingly written in perfect handwriting with notes and pictures and estimations, with little details added in when one completes one of their ‘wishes’.

Kurt Hummel.

He has a bucket list. In fact, he started making it just after his mother died.

One of the last things he remembers her saying was that she wished she’d gone to see Paris. And that Burt must promise Kurt will visit the city one day.

Two days after she died, little 8 year old Kurt put it on his new bucket list. (1)

Over time, his bucket list numbers changed. He moved more important points to the front, and eventually Paris was all the way back at number 47.

Of course, he’s probably never going to complete half the things on his bucket list. Because just looking at it, most could just never happen. Relations with Taylor Lautner (5) ...seriously? Arriving at school in a hot air balloon (86), well that could never happen at McKinley. CEO of Logo (87)...wow, ambitious much. Getting into Julliard (85), not likely, not with his track record and extra-curricula’s...New York seemed so far away now...

And Paris. Paris was fantastic, a wonderful place and somewhere he’d always dreamed of going, but what with his Dalton Fee’s from last semester piling on top of an already strained family budget; that just wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

The bright lights of the city of romance could bring love and hope to some other boy. Not him...never him.

XXXXX

So, of over 100 different things on his bucket list. Kurt Hummel had completed....15.

15 lowly points, 15 things that wouldn’t even stand out to anyone. Things that he just added on a whim. Simple things, like try super spicy curry (68), or dye his hair (31)

The big points on his list; the ones that really meant something, both to him, and to the rest of the world; Well, they hadn’t been completed, they wouldn’t be completed.

How could they? They were so ridiculous for someone like him. He could never, ever make those ones work out.

Those ones being:
Number 16. Number 92. Number 33. Number 79. Number 40 and Number 2.

He didn’t tell people what these were of course; because they would only laugh and snicker. Safe in the knowledge that they would see these things come true for them. And Kurt would be left to wallow in sorrow as the opportunities passed him by.

XXXXXXX

There was a time, not too long ago, when Kurt Hummel had seen a ray of hope; a shining beacon in his dull and dreary existence. It was that moment, on the stairs of Dalton Academy, when he had met none other than Blaine Fredrick Anderson; the lead singer of the Warblers, The boy with some of the highest grades in the region, the one with piercing hazel eyes and a smile to die for. The one who was so handsome, so utterly stunning, that Kurt’s heart melted when he saw him, The one who, Kurt thought, would help him tick off some points on his bucket list.

No. Not really. Kurt got close, so very, very close. He was a breath away from checking off those all important numbers; of going up a place in the world, of making himself more adequate, less of a failure...

But that didn’t happen.

It could never happen for him.

He accepted that now.

So those numbers remained. So did Blaine. So did Kurt.

Except, not.

He wasn’t there. Not really. His body was there and his person was there. His sarcastic comments and biting remarks were still sort of there, but he wasn’t. Not really. Part of him was lost in the list; to be returned to him when the numbers were lost. A bitter exchange.

XXXXX

He was far too deep into his bucket list, verging on the brink of obsessive. He realised this. He knew this. But it was so important to him. It meant everything to him.

His life, his ambitions, his hopes and dreams all poured out onto a sheet of paper. If he couldn’t even tick one little point off, how the hell was he supposed to cope in the future; when he had more important things to achieve than striking off a number.

He didn’t stand a chance.

Not really.

So why bother anymore.

Why bother if it would never work.

XXXXXXXXX

He meets Blaine.

He transfers to Dalton.

Things in the life of one Kurt Hummel finally seem to be looking up. He is finally getting a chance to do something, to become something, to become someone; someone who won’t be seen as a failure.

He can do this. He can.

Dalton seems to be the only place in the state where there are openly gay students. In his first few days at the school, he sees more gay guys than he ever has before and at least one out couple.

The couple just looks so perfect, so immersed in each other. Like nothing else in the world matters, like nothing can come between them or bring them down; that, so long as they have each other then they can raise a middle finger to the world and just be happy.

‘They’re Nick and Jeff’ Blaine had told him once, after he’d spotted Kurt’s gaze wondering over to the pair. ‘It’s adorable isn’t it? We’re all a little jealous.’ He had joked.

Kurt just nodded absentmindedly and kept watching the two from across the room.

‘It’s quite funny really.’ Blaine continues, not delving into Kurt’s silence (if he noticed). ‘Nick only agreed to date Jeff after he got a makeover. We were all teasing him, telling him how shallow he was, but then we saw Jeff post his re-styling. His hair was incredible. I must admit I was very envious of Nick after that. I mean...that hair.... I’ve always liked guys with great hair...’

Kurt doesn’t listen to the rest of Blaine ramblings. But for the next few weeks, Kurt gets up over an hour earlier than normal, styling a hair to within an inch of its life so he can have hair up to Blaine’s standards.

XXXXXXX

It didn’t work...

He didn’t notice...

Never mind...

XXXXXX

Blaine and he continue to skirt around each other for weeks and weeks; singing flirty duets, going on coffee dates; all incredibly romantic and charming. And Kurt feels almost happy. For the first time in what feels like forever, Kurt can say that the smile on his face is genuine.

It’s nice.

He likes smiling.

XXXXX

There just isn’t much to smile about now.

XXXXXXXX

Then Jeremiah is introduced.

The moment when Kurt finds out that Blaine isn’t going to sing to him, he can feel the smile ebb away. He can feel the tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes. He can feel the shivers coursing through his body and the sudden cold rush that has numbed his skin.

He blinks back the onslaught of tears, and quickly excuses himself for a bathroom break.

He doesn’t let himself cry.

He holds up a tissue, removing any excess moisture from his eyes and then applies a little powder to hide the red flush currently staining his cheeks and throat.

He returns not 5 minutes later to still find Blaine gushing over his new found love interest. The crowd of Warblers now gathered around him as he sits on the council’s table, his legs swinging back and forth in glee.

Kurt slips in, unnoticed at the back. A smile plastered to his face. Anyone could tell it was faked, just from a glance; it’s so plastic and forced. There is no spark, no reason, just a careful positioning of facial muscles, that’s all.

But no one looks; no one notices his heart crumbling behind his eyes. No one see’s the little flame of happiness die with a hiss and a flicker.

No one notices... because no one cares.

XXXXX

A week or so before the aptly named ‘Gap Attack’ Kurt catches Blaine deep in conversation with Nick as the pair sit in the choir room, waiting for Warbler rehearsal to start. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but announcing himself would disrupt them, and that would be rude; so he just sits outside the door...listening.

‘-and he’s so wonderful. His hair, I mean W.O.W. It’s so wonderful and it just looks so smooth, like silk. I just want to run my fingers through it, you know?’

Kurt's annoyed.

He knows Blaine likes guys with good hair. He told him so. So what does this guy have that’s so different to Kurt?

‘I love the colour. Like verging on blonde, but still with that gorgeous nutty brown. It just makes me melt.’

(It was after that, that Kurt dyed his hair for the first time(31))

‘And he’s so hot. All toned muscles and masculine angles. His hips are so narrow and-‘

Kurt misses the rest of the conversation as David suddenly interrupts.

‘What you doing out here Kurt?’ He asks; the ever present grin still plastered to his face.
‘Oh...’ Kurt stammers. ‘Blaine and Nick...I didn’t want to disturb them.’

David nods in understanding but cuts his talk with Kurt off. Opening the door and announcing that rehearsals are starting soon and could the boys please get off the desk as he needs to get the sheet music out.

Kurt slinks in behind him, avoiding looking at Blaine who is still beaming over Jeremiah.

Stupid jerk.

XXXXXXXX

‘Kurt are you ok, you look washed out?’

Of course I do, this hair colour drains me, but you love it so...

Yeah, I’m fine, no worries.’

‘Ok, well...just thought I’d let you know. Cos...well it’s not just your skin... I think your hairs a bit off too...isn’t that the sign of some disease? You might want to check it out sometime.’

Oh.

‘But you’re ok right?’

‘Yes Blaine.’ A resigned sigh. ‘I’m fine’

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night Kurt stands at the end of his bed, gazing into the full length mirror hanging from his closet.

As if Blaine would suddenly like him now he’d done his hair nicely.

No matter how nice his hair was, it couldn’t hide his hideous body. The pudgy baby face that makes him look twelve; the chubby curves of his stomach and the way that his legs wobble slightly when he shakes.

Not to mention those horrific pear hips.

He can see it everywhere; disgusting rolls of fat coating his body. He’s practically oozing cellulite. It’s no surprise Blaine doesn’t like him.

He needs to be toned like Jeremiah if he wants Blaine.

XXXXXXXXXX

No one questions Kurt’s sudden fondness for the Dalton Gym. It’s just a new hobby in their eyes.

The hours Kurt’s spends after school and during recess running on the treadmill or on the rowing machines are just a way to pass time, clearly; just something to entertain him. (And go to the gym was number 72)

It’s a shame that theory can’t accompany the boy’s sudden avoidance of meal times.

He claims he brings packed lunches which he eats later.

No one really questions him. They all just accept it as one of his quirks. When he says he doesn’t want to have a heart attack like his dad, they all drop the subject like a tonne of bricks. No one wants to confront a kid whose dad nearly died. Whose mother is already dead. No need to bring up bad memories over something as petty as food.

He drops weight at a rampant pace. Once a healthy 80kg he’s now dropped to 63 in just over a week. But he can still see that fat. Still see the chub; he still feels soft, pudgy skin whenever he presses his abdomen or his stomach. It haunts him, mocking him. It’s out to stop him ever getting Blaine, and that’s just not good enough.

XXXXXXXXX

God. He’s so disgusting. Why on earth did Mercedes ever crush on him?

Oh right.... it was the idea of a boyfriend, not the actual boy in question.

That explains it.

XXXXXXXX

He tries to think of a time when anyone called him attractive.

‘Scum.’

‘Faggot.’

‘Dick face.’

‘Cock sucker.’

‘You’ll die alone.’

‘Go kill yourself, loser.’

‘You’re so pale you look dead’

‘You look like a twelve year old girl.’

‘Eww. What’s that? Oh it’s your face. Sicko.’

‘It ain’t Halloween Hummel, take off the mask.’

‘Do the world a favour and just off yourself. You repulse me.’


He can’t...

XXXXXXXX

He tries. God, he tries so damn hard to look better. But
his efforts are still in vain.

His Dalton uniform is now at least two sizes too big for him. It hangs of his limp frame, swamping his now tiny body in fabric.

At first Kurt finds it just emphasises his waist. Look at him, all this clothing was making him look even fatter.

All this work would be lost.

So he tailors his uniform. From the shirts, to the pants, even the blazer. All so it is nice form fitting and as flattering as it could be if one had a body like him.

XXXX

‘Jeremiah is so handsome.’

‘Kurt, you don’t look too good right now.’


XXXXXXX

Even the uniform didn’t help.

Oh, and the Gap Attack failed. Blaine was rejected by Jeremiah. A small win on Kurt’s front, but Kurt’s still pretty sure Blaine doesn’t really like him anymore.

Still, he had sat by his friend, waiting for Jeremiah to emerge from the store. Blaine was all rosy cheeks and love struck eyes and he jumped out of his seat as soon as the older man was in sight.

But it was a no.

Kurt doesn’t refrain from insulting the guy because. Hello? Who the hell would turn Blaine Anderson down?
Jeremiah had just been offered everything Kurt wished for on a silver platter, and he had said no...

Kurt didn’t know whether to be appalled or overjoyed.

XXXX

A few weeks later, and Kurt gets a phone call from Rachel Berry.

Funny, he thought she’d forgotten about him. They’d met up for coffee about a month ago, but Kurt barely spoke.

She just talked and talked until he had to go...now no texts since the meeting and Kurt was losing faith in their supposed friendship

XXXXXXXXX

Oh, it was because he was Finn’s brother. That’s why she rang him...not because she liked him or anything...just an obligation.

It was party invite. He didn’t really want to go. (But go to a house party was number 51)

And hey, who was he to turn down to opportunity of seeing his friends?...ex-friends?....the lack of communication from them, even when Kurt had tried, clearly meant they didn’t want him around.

But this was a party. His old friends would be there. He could bring a plus one. And there would be alcohol, Maybe the McKinley folk who still liked him, could show Blaine that Kurt wasn’t really that bad.

Maybe Blaine would get drunk enough that Kurt could sneak a hug...or a kiss. Blaine would never remember, but for Kurt it would suffice.

XXXXXXXXX

He proposed the idea of Blaine being his plus one over lunch one day. He’d come down from his study period and sat next to Blaine, keeping a close watch on the conversation to make sure Blaine had no new ‘amazing’ guys playing on his mind. Once he was sure, that Blaine was indeed not pining over anyone, he subtly slipped the party into conversation.

A quick mention of a Glee club party and Blaine turned his attention to Kurt almost instantly.

‘Oh Kurt, you’re so lucky. I wish I could go to something like that. I love those kinds of things...’

‘You can come if you want.’ He said, a lot more quietly than he had intended to.

‘Huh? What did you say sorry?’

‘You can come.’ He repeated, a little louder. ‘I mean....I have a plus one, and I’m sure the people at McKinley would love to meet you. Hopefully not just to spy but....’ he trailed off, looking hopefully up at Blaine.

‘Are you serious? Yeah, I’d love to come, if that’s all right with you. I could do with a few performances to break the ice, know what I mean. Text me the details later. Ok you?’ Blaine said, chuckling as he gave Kurt a playful nudge.

Kurt smiled weakly and nodded as conversation quickly returned to which ever Warbler had been talking prior to Kurt’s interruption.

XXXXXXXXXXX

He didn’t eat for three days prior to the party. He needed to fit into a new outfit he’d bought. One he’d seen Blaine admire in an issue of Vogue a week or so back. He had spent almost all his saved funds on the clothing, but it would be worth it to get Blaine to notice him. (And own a full Vogue ensemble was number 27.)

XXXXXXX

The afternoon before heading over to Rachel’s, Kurt spent at least 2 hours getting ready. He slipped on his carefully selected outfit. Adjusting every little crease until it was immaculate. He then spent a good 30 minutes with a face pack on whilst he styled his hair to near perfection.

He actually thought he looked pretty decent tonight.
Let’s hope Blaine thought so too.

XXXXXXXX

He arrived at Blaine’s dorm to pick him up at around 7.30.
The sound of music emanated softly from the room as he knocked politely on the door and waited.

The echo of shuffling footsteps and a muffled voice caught Kurt’s attention, before the door was flung open.

Blaine stood before him....in pyjamas and a Dalton hoodie.

Kurt’s jaw dropped.

‘Hi.’ He squeaked. Looking Blaine up and down as the other boy just eyed him with confusion.

‘err...hey Kurt....you look...ummm...nice....can I err....do anything for you?’ The boy said, shifting on his feet.

‘Umm....I...’ Kurt stammered, not quite what sure to say. ‘We....we were meant to....Rachel’s... her party thing...you know?’

‘Wha-...oh damn. That was today? Oh God Kurt I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.’

oh. Oh.

‘Oh...that’s...that’s ok...I’ll go...on my own....I’ll see you l-‘ He said, turning on his heel and beginning to walk off. His face flushed deep red in embarrassment.

‘No, no. Wait. Just let me change and I’ll be right out. Just...hang on.’

‘I...ok.’

Blaine slammed the door quickly, and Kurt went and leant against the wall of the corridor. Slumping against it and letting his body slide to the ground.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, placed his head in his hands and just waited.

He’d forgotten. He had forgotten. All this work and effort; all this time Kurt had spent meticulously planning and executing to make sure everything was perfect. And Blaine just damn forgot.

How the hell did he manage that?

XXXXXXXXXXXX

10 minutes later and the pair where sitting in Kurt’s car on the way to Rachel’s house. Blaine still slightly flustered and out of it, whilst Kurt remained deeply humiliated.

Blaine had taken all of 5 minutes to get ready. He’d grabbed some casual clothes and thrown them on. Quickly brushed his teeth and run a comb through his hair. In fact, he made sure to tell Kurt to excuse his hideousness as he hadn’t had time to prepare.

And yet he still looked better than Kurt.

5 minutes and he looked god damn gorgeous.

Over 2 and a half hours and Kurt looked like a dog in comparison.

That just wasn’t fair.

XXXXXXX

The party was a disaster. Absolute, complete and utter catastrophe.

At first there was a limit on the alcohol which meant no chances of drunk Kurt admitting his feelings for Blaine. (Or hopefully vice versa)

Then there was Karaoke, which only Blaine and Rachel seemed to really enjoy.

Then finally when the booze was properly brought out, everyone, bar Kurt and Finn, were completely wasted.

Then the party games started. Body shots, strip poker, but worst...Spin the bottle.

Needless to say...with all the luck Kurt was having...Rachel’s spin landed on Blaine.

They kissed. And they were enjoying it; that much was clear on both their faces.

Then they spent the rest of their night holding hands and singing flirty duets.

That was his and Blaine’s thing...

...They sung duets and held hands...

Not Blaine and Rachel....

XXXXXXXXX

That night though, he still let Blaine crash at his place.

Even though he had torn out his heart.
Even though he had trampled it into the ground.
Even though he had dowsed the remains in petrol and set it alight.

Kurt still wouldn’t let him even attempt to get back to Dalton. They came in Kurt’s car. And even though Finn was driving Kurt home, there was no way Blaine would be able to drive Kurt’s navigator without crashing. Not in his inebriated state.

So he stayed.

But that just made things worse.

XXXXXXXXX

Turns out, drunk Blaine, is pretty touchy feely.

That night Blaine went straight to Kurt’s bed once Kurt had helped him up the stairs, and just collapsed.

Kurt had set about trying to find a blow up mattress for himself but Blaine wouldn’t have it.

Whenever Kurt got within touching distance of the drunken teen, Blaine would grab at him and pull him down onto the bed. Begging to be hugged and cuddled and held. Looking like a kicked puppy whenever Kurt refused.

Because oh god had he been wrong. He thought getting Blaine drunk would work in his favour. That Blaine would be exactly like this and Kurt could get what he’d always wanted, which was affection from Blaine.

But no...Oh God no. This wasn’t right at all. This was wrong...oh so wrong; because Blaine didn’t want Kurt. As he kept saying, he just wanted someone to hold him. He just wanted a hot body to lie next to, to keep him warm.
He wasn’t showering Kurt with love. He was using him.

And that stung.

Blaine was giving Kurt what he wanted, physical affection, but it was for all the wrong reasons and that just made this hurt; because Blaine didn’t want to do this. It was the alcohol. And even drunk Blaine didn’t want to hug Kurt. He wanted Kurt to hug him; to keep him warm and safe. To show him, he was loved.

He was....but for once Kurt wanted to be.

XXXXXXXX

Blaine didn’t remember. He didn’t remember Kurt holding him after giving in to his puppy dog eyes. He didn’t remember Kurt rubbing his arms soothingly as he drifted off to sleep. He didn’t remember Kurt whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He didn’t remember Kurt confessing his feelings.

But he did remember kissing Rachel.

And so of course, later when the pair where getting coffee, he accepted a date with Rachel.

Who was A Girl.

A Girl.
And Blaine was Gay. A homosexual...as in sexually attracted to men, not women. So why the hell was he going out with Rachel?

This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. What had Kurt done so badly that Blaine would rather date someone of the
wrong gender, over him?

Was he really that repulsive?

He looked over into the glass window and saw the reflection of his scrawny body, and sighed.

Yes....yes he was.

XXXXXXXXX

He said some things he didn’t mean. Really bad things. He said being bisexual wasn’t real, and was essentially stupid. He didn’t mean it. Well, he meant what he said but he didn’t mean it to hurt Blaine quite as bad as it did.

If Blaine thinks he’s bisexual, then that’s fine. Brittany say she’s bisexual and he loves her all the same. He didn’t mean to get angry, he honestly didn’t.

It’s just...Blaine.

He didn’t want him to get hurt, and dating Rachel would only make that happen. He didn’t want either of them to get hurt, because even though they were singlehandedly destroying his heart, they were still his friends and he didn’t want their hearts to feel pain.

But then Blaine compares Kurt to Karofsky. And that is the worst Kurt has felt in a long, long time.

XXXXXXXXX

That night, when he got back to his dorm Kurt pulled out his laptop and went onto Netflix.

Finding a decent yet depressing film wasn’t hard. He had plenty to choose from. And choose he did. He got through 3 movies that night, bawling his eyes out over every single one. That was the night he finally watched ‘The Notebook.’ (53) That was also the night he discovered cutting.

XXXXXXX

The protagonist in the third film was a cutter. The movie it’s self was about his emotional journey up until eventual suicide. And Kurt couldn’t help but relate the plotline and background love story to his own predicament.

And if cutting helped this man get over his unrequited love. Maybe it would help him. Because he just wanted it all to stop.

XXXXXXXXX

It hurt. God, it hurt more than he expected. (Which was stupid, because hello, he was carving a blade into his skin, it wasn’t going to be a breeze)

But he ploughed through. Relieved when he felt the pain subside and a load fall off his shoulders. He didn’t know why...he couldn’t work out why it made him feel better...it just did; which was all he really wanted.

XXXXXXXXX

A couple of weeks later and Kurt smiled as the blade bit into his skin, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake.

The blood danced along his skin as it bubbled up from the freshly cut wound. He drew the blade across his skin like a pencil on paper, tracing dream like patterns with all the care and delicacy of an artist.

If anyone saw...he shuddered to think.

He could feel the sharp pangs of pain shoot up his arm, his eye lids fluttered shut in concentration as he worked the blade slightly deeper into the skin. He needed more; he needed it to stop. He just needed it all to stop.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Kurt had never been more thankful for the Dalton blazer (Own a uniform, 44)

Despite the cheep polyester blend and the garish red piping, it did have one redeeming feature.

Long sleeves.

XXXXXXXX

I didn’t work out with Blaine and Rachel.

It didn’t mean Kurt felt better though.

Because Blaine still didn’t like him. And now he’d become even more distant, missing their coffee ‘dates’ and study sessions. Suddenly having too much homework to come over after class and needing to speak to other people whenever Kurt tried to speak to him during recess.

Now not only did Blaine not have romantic feelings for him, but it seemed his platonic affection for Kurt was disappearing too.

Only Finn spoke to him out of the New Directions too. But that seemed only to ever be about what he and Kurt’s family where doing, and asking advice. (‘Your dad and I are going to see Buckeyes live this weekend. One of the guys from the garage scored us tickets. No point in you coming home because mom’s coming to, but could you recommend a present to get his friend to say thanks?’ Being the most recent call)

No one seemed to care about him anymore. He was away at Dalton, out of his family’s hair. The New Directions no longer cared now he was competing against them and they didn’t need his voice. He was being silenced by the Warblers, who were all for conforming, and showmanship, not individuality. Never letting him be himself.
It seemed only his dad cared for him now. But even then...Kurt was still upset. Because his dad now had the son he’d always dreamed off; the football playing jock with a hot girlfriend and an interest in taking over the family business. He didn’t need Kurt. He didn’t need choir loving, fashion designing girly voiced Kurt.

Especially now he had Carole to look after him. All the things Kurt once did to spend time with his dad seemed to be being done by someone else. And if that didn’t make a person feel unwanted, Kurt didn’t know what did.

XXXXXXXXXX

He let the drag of the razor tear away his emotional hurt and leave in its wake only a physical pain. The built up angst within his person was seeping out the wound with the red liquid. He could feel it ebbing away.

This was what he needed. This was his escape.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

No matter what the others said, he was human, he had feelings, he had emotions, he felt pain, he could hurt and he wanted....needed...it to stop...

If the only way to do so was to cause the pain himself, then so be it.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Despite the hideous nature of the jagged marks littering his arms, Kurt couldn’t help but want someone to notice....someone to pick up on his pain. This had all started because of Blaine.....the least the other boy could do was acknowledge the suffering he was thrusting upon Kurt.

Didn’t Kurt at least deserve that?

XXXXX

Clearly not, because he had been cutting for nearly a
month now...and nothing had changed.

No one had noticed his withdrawn attitude.
No one had noticed his paling complexion.
No one had noticed the sensitivity of his arms.
No one had noticed his aversion to short sleeves.
No one had noticed the white gauze, with red seeping through, that was tied tightly around his wrists every time he accidently cut too deep.
No one noticed his pining looks when he saw the other boys laugh.
No one saw the longing in his eyes, whenever he saw Blaine smile.

No one noticed, because no one cared.

He wasn’t important at this school. He held no positions of high esteem. He wasn’t special...he was invisible in the ranks of navy and red. A soldier in the fight of conformities....he was truly transparent....

He knew that no one else cared. Why would they?

XXXX

He could get through this alone; he had always got through it alone...

XXXX

He was back in the bathroom again. Trying to think of any way he could make himself feel better. The strong bite of the blade against his skin had only worked the first few times. Now it was just painful. There was no release, no emotional relief, just incisions on his arm to remind him of what a failure he was.

XXXXXXX

He was becoming more and more withdrawn by the day.
Every time he spoke to someone he just wanted to call out; to ask for help. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t cry and scream and breakdown. He couldn’t...because that showed weakness. And no one liked someone weak. It would just make him more and more undesirable. He was still trying to get used to the fact he would be alone. He didn’t need everyone abandoning him now to make him feel worse.

He withdrew first so they couldn’t. Because if more people left him, or forgot him, he didn’t think he could handle it. So if he left first...he wouldn’t have to worry....right?

XXXXXX

It’s when Sebastian comes along that Kurt finally breaks.

Because here is a guy, who has the hair and the body, who has the personality and the charm needed to please Blaine; and he is actually interested.

He doesn’t reject Blaine, in fact, he outright pursues him. And as much as Blaine can shy away and blush, pretending that’s not what Sebastian is doing. Everyone can see that Blaine is getting flustered, because he actually likes the attention.

XXXXXXXX

Sebastian and Blaine end up going on a date to some gay bar near Lima; ‘Scandals’ or something equally as clich�.

They both get plastered and end up having a heavy make out session in the corridor outside Kurt’s dorm. The guttural moans floating through Kurt’s door do nothing to make him feel better; especially when he hears another boy’s name spill from Blaine’s lips.

The next day, Kurt catches Blaine in conversation with Nick and Jeff. The curly haired boy admits that whilst the ‘whole gay bar vibe’ wasn’t really ‘his scene’, he still had ‘so much fun’ and he and Sebastian were ‘definitely going out again sometime.’

Fuck.

XXXXXXXXXXX

It was a week later that they made it official.

Boyfriends.

And Kurt knows that he has lost.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kurt tries so hard to keep himself together.

He tries so God-damn hard.

But sometimes he feels like he’s the only one who cares about the fact he’s still living.

Wouldn’t it be easier if he just...stopped?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The final straw for Kurt happens three weeks after ‘Seblaine’ was formed.

None of the New Directions have spoken to him in nearly 2 weeks. That includes Finn, his supposed brother.

The Warblers actually forgot to call his name during roll-call that rehearsal.

The biology teacher forgot he was in class and ended up making a group of three because he thought they had an odd number....Kurt was left alone.

Blaine and Sebastian are all over each other, and thus the more dapper of the two keeps cancelling on Kurt and hasn’t even said so much as ‘hello’ to him in 4 days.

His father hasn’t called in a week, and whenever Kurt tries to ring him, he is absurdly busy and just promises to ring back.

His phone inbox is empty.

XXXXXXXXXX

The entire world seems to have forgotten him.

Kurt has almost forgotten himself.

He just wants it all to stop.

So he’ll make it stop.

XXXXXXXX

He needs to say goodbye.

XXXX

The screen flickers into life. A low buzzing starts up as the laptop begins to load. It takes a couple of minutes before he’s logged in to his account and loading up the web cam.

It’s easier this way; better than leaving a note, and far better than leaving no explanation at all.

He positions the camera carefully, making sure his face, no matter how repulsive, is on full display. He needs to be seen. This is his exit; his last performance. He can’t be hidden in the shadows.

He clicks, and a red light begins to flash in the corner of his screen; signalling that the recording has started.

He quickly sits back, adjusts his hair slightly, looks dead into the camera, and begins.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

‘Hi, Blaine.’

He smiles a little, and lets out a brief chuckle.

‘It feels weird saying this to an empty room, but you’re away right now and this was the best I could do given the situation. Notes are just so time consuming, you know? And this needs to be over fast. Like ripping off a band aid. Quick and easy.’

He swallows, glancing down to his conjoined hands. They are trembling.

‘You know, I always liked you. From that first moment we met, and you told me your name. You held my hand. No one’s ever done that before. Not like that.’

‘You're such an amazing guy, Blaine. So dapper and charming and sweet. You were always so kind to me, back at the start. Always so unbelievably kind. You comforted me when you found out what was going on at McKinley and took care of me. You made it bearable.’

‘And I fell in love with you.’

His breath wavers and he can feel his throat close up. But he has to continue. It’s not the first time he’s admitted his feeling for the Warbler, it’s just harder to add an explanation.

‘I know it was clich� to fall for the first gay guy I met, but it's what happened. I can’t help the past.

‘But I guess that’s why I’m not surprised. Not surprised that you keep breaking my heart. I mean, our whole friendship formed off some mentor complex you have. I’m grateful for it, really. Because it brought me a friend, but looking back....I just think....I'm just a project to you, aren't I?’

‘I’m the bullied gay kid, looking for a saviour, and you’re the dapper white knight flying in to save the day. Right?’

‘I guess that’s why we don’t talk much anymore. All that stuff with Karofsky, that’s gone now. I’m meant to be healed right? So no need for dapper Mr. Mentor to stand by my side. You don’t think I need you anymore...’

He sniffs.

‘But I do Blaine. I really, really do.....I-‘

He pauses.

‘....did....’

He trails off, staring down at the floor.

‘I know you don’t want my sorry behind dragging you down, but....I just wished you’d told me, before I tried to be your friend. Your real friend...before I made a fool of myself trying....because when you abandoned me, that hurt. It really did Blaine.’

‘I don't know what it feels like to like someone and have them like me back, looking back at us...at one point I thought, maybe...just maybe, I stood a chance with you. It was stupid, I know, but after you agreed to my silly When Harry Met Sally thing, I thought.....just maybe....because of course they get together....everyone knows that, and I thought you did too... But then it turned out you didn’t, not really, because you’ve never even watched the film, so you were just playing along with my ramblings. Just playing along to keep me happy....I thought....I thought.....just maybe...’

Another sniff, this one with a much longer pause after.

Kurt can’t bring himself to look at the camera. Not properly.

‘I’ve just been fooling myself the whole time. I made it all up in my head. Every last bit. Again...First Finn, then Sam, and now you....No one ever likes me back’

‘It’s funny.....because then we get back to Karofsky....because he likes me. He kissed me. He...stole...my first boy kiss because he likes me, and yet I just want him to leave me alone. But he doesn’t, not really. So...I guess your likeness of me and him was right. Because I like you, and you don’t like me, and you probably want me to just leave you alone, and I don’t.’

He looks up at the camera, a sad smile on his face.

‘But I will, don’t worry. I’ll stop bothering you, just....please listen to the end of this. Then you never have to hear from me again....honest.’

The corner of his mouth turns up a little as he speaks a slight joking air to his voice. Yet this is anything but a joke.

‘I don’t believe in God. I think you know that, I remember us talking about faith over coffee once.’

He gives a half hearted chuckle.

‘I tried to believe. I really did, I mean... when my mom was diagnosed with cancer I tried to pray. I was eight, what else could I do? I prayed to God, to angels, to anyone I thought would listen.’

‘But they didn't listen, and she died. Right when I needed her most. I just didn't understand. Why wouldn’t anybody help me? And then dad had his heart attack, and....and.....why? I don’t understand Blaine. Why me? Why is it always me and my family? Is whatever deity not satisfied by taking my mother away. By making me gay, and then telling me it’s a choice and I should be shunned and mocked and abused because of it. Does it not satisfy him to watch me suffer, to watch me being beaten down every single day, just for trying to be myself? Why not add the icing to the cake, why not take away my last hope. Yeah, just take away my dad too, because the gay kind sure isn’t in enough misery, let’s torment him some more.’

‘And I may not believe in God, Blaine... but I know there's a hell. I’m living it. Hell is losing everyone you love. Hell is having no one to turn to, no one to help you. Hell is watching the guy you’re in love with, kissing the girl, who not only stole away your first crush, but is now supposed to be your friend. Hell is having her know exactly how you feel, but her choosing to ignore it for her own personal gain. Because having two guys chasing after her isn’t enough. Why not add a third?’

A tear escapes the confines of his eye. Trickling down his face, mapping a shining path along his cheek until it drips down onto his knee, soaking into the denim on his legs.

‘Hell is watching the man you love in the arms of another; knowing that you can never, ever have him.’

Another sniff.

‘What is it? Blaine. What is it that makes me so horrific, so repulsive, that you, the most open and proud gay guy I’ve heard of, want to date a girl over me. Because even though you're gay, you would rather kiss a girl and go on a date with a girl instead of even trying to go on a date with me. ‘

‘I don’t understand. Blaine....but then I tried, I tried to explain myself to you...and it came out all wrong and jumbled and I didn’t mean what I said, because I was just angry. Angry at you and at Rachel, because even if you weren’t gay you two wouldn’t work out in a million years. And I was just trying to stop things before they got too bad. And I know I sound selfish, but I honestly just didn’t want you to get hurt. Because I can’t stand to see you hurting. Because, even if you don’t like me at all, I still consider you a friend....my best friend, so I need to make sure you’re happy. I just wish you could be happy with me...’

‘If Rachel got you then it just wouldn’t be fair.....she get’s everything. She got Finn and she get’s solo’s, and even that one time I thought I could beat her, I had to lose on purpose to help my dad. Because otherwise he would hurt....so she beat me again, she beats me at everything. And this one time, where I could say I had more of a chance....I thought I could beat her, even if nothing would ever happen, I could say I would, that if anything were to happen...I thought I stood more of a chance...but now that’s not true, either, and I lost again, because they all love her, and all hate me. Maybe if I was straight...or a girl, people wouldn’t feel the need to try and destroy me every day, I don’t know why they do it Blaine? I just... I don’t know...’

‘And then you compared me to Karofsky, and we go back, because I realized that I keep trying to be your friend. I keep texting and calling you, and inviting you out, but that must be bad. Because if I bother you as much as Karofsky does to me then that’s really bad. Because I just want him to leave me alone... so that must mean that you want me to leave you alone.’

‘I will. I promise.’

‘You don't need me...You have Sebastian now. Perfect, perfect Sebastian. With his perfect hair, his perfect body, his perfect smile, his perfect coffee order, his perfect everything. So why would you want grotty old Kurt Hummel when you could have the great Sebastian Smythe? Believe me; I can see why you chose him.’

He takes in a long breath, up through his nose and out through slightly parted lips; his body quivering with the vain effort of withholding tears.

‘I just....’

He pauses, and looks back into the camera.

‘Do you know what number one is on my bucket list?’
The tears break past his walls, slowly starting to follow in the tracks of the first.

‘It was to find somebody to love.... and when I met you.... I could honestly tick that off my list. But then...Then I realised, that may be an ambition of mine, but it means nothing elsewhere, because the real wish, my Number 2... Is to find someone to love who loves you back, someone who won’t leave your love unrequited... but... That clearly isn’t you, Blaine.’

He sniffs and wipes at his sodden face with the sleeve of his jacket.

‘I wish it was.’ He murmurs. ‘I really, really wish it was.’

‘But... I’ll go now, and leave you and Sebastian be. I’d like to say we could have still been friends, but I could never be just that with you, it just hurts too much.....’

He sits back up straight, and blinks back the remaining tears, before looking straight into the camera with his reddening eyes.

‘Blaine....My dear, dear Blaine.’

He smiles, a faint twitch of his lips to try and show some positivity.

‘I wish you every love and happiness this world has to offer! I hope you can live your life to the fullest and enjoy every second. I hope you achieve your dreams and show the world what you can do. Shine Blaine. Shine like I know you can...’

‘I Love you. So, so much Blaine.... I hope you find someone to complete your Number 2 with. And I hope they realise what a lucky guy they are... Who knows, maybe someday...? I could have been so lucky... But to tell the truth... No one could ever have compared to you!’

XXXXXXXXXXX

He can feel his resolve breaking. More tears are coming and he needs to end this quickly.

He shoots one final smile at the camera, and blows a fleeting kiss towards the lens, before leaning in and turning off the recording. The red light is no longer present, and just a small snapshot of his face is on the screen to represent his hearts inner most confessions.

He drags the video over into a file, simply entitled Blaine. It’s a disk. He burns it quickly. Adding a couple of photo’s of the pair taken with his phone so Blaine would have something to remember him by. (He’ll drop the CD off in Blaine’s dorm later, before he gets back from his date with Seb. Kurt will be gone by then, and it’s best to avoid awkward run-ins that could delay the inevitable process)

He hopes Blaine will remember him. He hopes this doesn’t hurt him too much, he meant it when he couldn’t stand to see Blaine hurting.

....but for Kurt, the hurt is already too much. The pain and pangs of torment and loneliness are tearing him apart and now he’s finally given in. He's had enough, he can’t handle it any longer.

Because dying is better than living like this. He needs to escape, he can’t cope.

He just hopes Blaine will come to his funeral.
End Notes: Thoughts?Leave me a review and tell me what you think.There is a follow up to this already written. If people would like, i can post it here. If not then it is on my FFN account.

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Your writing is amazing. Everytime I read this I'm just as heartbroken as the first time. You did a wonderful job of conveying Kurt thought. What still shocks me is how realistical you showed just how utterly broken Kurt was at the moment in his life.