Prologue

Kurt Hummel was fiddling around with his stove, trying to get it to light, but having more problems than solutions so he gave up on trying to make coffee and took a seat in his favorite easy chair, pulling out a book and turning to where his bookmark held his spot. He was only about two pages in when the doorbell of his apartment rang, and he looked surprised, not expecting any guests, and tidied up his record collection quickly before asking through the wood, "Who is it?"

"Kurt, it's Rachel." For a moment he was stunned by the sadness in her voice. Rachel Berry didn't have time to be sad; she was about to start her first stint on Broadway, she was nothing but bells and happiness. He opened the door for her, and she waltzed in with a newspaper in hand, her eyes looking at her shoes.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his brows furrowed as he took her coat and hung it on the rack near his door. "I haven't seen you this sad since you didn't get into that musical ErnestinLove." She didn't say a word, just placed him gently into the couch before her and turned away from him, trying to hide the tears in her eyes. She turned off the record player, and Kurt knew something was very, very wrong.

Rachel held up a newspaper to read, looking like she would rather die than share this news with him, like she would do anything to keep it from being true. Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat, and he knew who the news was about even before she opened her mouth to speak the headline.

"Teen Sensation Dies in Crash, Nations Mourns Young Crooner," she began slowly, her voice choking, and Kurt knew it was killing her to read this to him, killing her to be the one to break the news, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she hunched against the back of the sofa in his New York apartment, her mouth screwed into a show of emotion that he just could not feel in the numbness of his heart.

"Blaine Anderson, lead vocalist in hit pop band Blaine and the Pips, passed away last night at the site of the crash of his private jet, only an hour after take off. No one else has been reported deceased, as the pilot and copilot were the only other passengers recorded as on board the flight. The pilot, whose name has been with held, told us that Mr. Anderson was on his way to see a close friend of his in New York City as a surprise visit, whose name he could not remember. The nation lost a wonderful musician, man, and friend last night, and his Pips, Nick, Jeff, Thad, and Sebastian, have gone on record saying that there would be no point in continuing the group, and have disbanded."

Kurt stood up from his seat on the couch, his eyes suddenly awash with tears. He had been coming to New York to see him. Blaine had been coming to surprise him, and now Kurt would never see him again. He felt his heart try to burst out of his chest, and he placed his hand against the side of his neck, the comfort spot doing little to appease his breaking heart.

And it was in that moment, he saw his life, just a whirl of memories and emotions, race before his eyes, and he knew that it would never be the same again.

AN: Story was inspired by and based off of a group of manips done that I saw on Tumblr. I don't take any credit for those at all, just the story!