Though I'm posting this as a sequel, it really is more like a second chapter. Go read "Ode to Divorce" if you want this fic to make sense. Once again, I VERY STRONGLY recommend that you listen to the song this fic was based upon, "Summer in the City" by Regina Spektor, before\during reading this fic.
When Blaine came to, he was in a hospital. He was in a lot of pain. His head throbbed and his stomach felt as though it had been turned inside out. He couldn't tell whether he was happy or sad about his waking up. He really just felt indifferent.
He hadn't been trying to die, but he guessed that he wouldn't have been too upset if he had.
His vision was rather fuzzy, and the minimal light coming in through the window, plus the fluorescent bulbs buzzing from the ceiling, were enough to make him squint. He looked over and saw a silhouette pacing near the window. For a brief second, his heart soared.
"Kurt?" he croaked.
"Blaine?" The man whipped around, and Blaine sighed. Cooper rushed to his brother's side, gripping him a little too tightly. Blaine winced. "Blaine, are you okay? Does it hurt?" Cooper stood up and darted to the door. "Nurse? He's awake!" Then he flitted back to Blaine. "Blaine, I went in to check up on you. You didn't answer the door when I knocked. I got scared, and I-" There were tears in Cooper's eyes. The panic hadn't quite faded from his face.
"It's okay, Coop." Blaine couldn't meet his brother's gaze. "I'm… I'm sorry…"
"No, Blaine, no. Don't be sorry."
Blaine was silent. A nurse came in and ushered Cooper out of the room so that she could check Blaine's vitals.
Even after they gave him enough medicine to drown his physical pain, he hurt everywhere.
-o0o-
After he got out of the hospital, Blaine couldn't go a day without getting at least a call from Cooper. Finally, he'd had enough. He wanted a change of scenery. He wanted to talk to someone new.
"Hey, Squirt, what's up?"
"I'm taking a trip to D.C.!" Blaine shouted over-excitedly into the phone. "There's a gay rights protest this weekend. I'm going!"
Blaine's near-manic tone worried Cooper, but at least his brother was doing something.
"Great, Blaine! Have fun!"
"I'll try!"
-o0o-
D.C. wasn't fun. Far from it. It was sad. It was isolating. Frankly, it was anticlimactic.
Blaine had thought, what with all the shirtless men with rainbow-flag shorts and sweat beading on their bodies, that he'd find something to help him forget. However, every time someone flashed him a smile, he could only think, He's not Kurt.
Once, he thought he saw Kurt from the back. He ran up to him, but the man who turned around was definitely not Kurt. Afterwards, Blaine cursed himself for not remembering what Kurt looks like from the back.
He'd just wanted to see Kurt so badly…
Eventually, Blaine left to sit on a bench a little ways away from the action. He couldn't stand the closeness. His stomach churned in anger. He lit up a cigarette.
He'd taken up smoking since Kurt left him. He figured he wouldn't have the will to sing anymore, so why save his voice? Besides, he didn't mind too much if it made him sick. He smoked to die.
The worst thing about it all, Blaine thought, was that Kurt hadn't even left him the ability to move on. Every time he saw a guy who he knew was hot, he felt… nothing. Not even a flutter of attraction. It almost made him want to cry.
As he smoked on the corner, a dead-ringer for Tom Felton passed and winked at him. Blaine waved weakly and gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace. There was nothing.
Blaine sighed and shook his head.
"I miss Kurt."