Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters, Ryan Murphy and Fox do.

Warnings: In this chapter there is some language, dark themes, and underage drinking. They are most likely also out of character (I always say this just in case, especially ). This takes place around the time of Michael (Episode 3x11) and everyone on Tumblr saw this coming (been obsessing for days). Also there are most likely errors (maybe less than usual seing as I did read through it before posting it, and it is so short, that I doubt there could be that many errors.)

Will be more "M" as story progresses

Summary: "I never meant to hurt you. I couldn't stop myself. I got too drunk off of my power, my hatred. But I can't take back what I've done, nothing could justify it anyway. I want you to have the life you deserve, and I cannot give it to you."

Summary inspired by True Blood.

Named after the song "Diary of Hate." Named after a track on the "The End of the Affair Soundtrack"

In a single instant, everything was taken from him. His power, his sanity, his position, his heart, everything was ripped from him because of one mistake. Even thinking back on what he had done, on all of the pain he had caused in a single second, a single arm movement, it made him sick. Nights were long, sleepless. He lost track of days, as was normal when you couldn't rest. His mind wouldn't stop scolding him for what he had done, the scene playing over and over again. He couldn't get the sound out of his head: the screams, the cries, the pain. What the hell was he thinking?

Sitting on his bed, a single glass of red wine in his hand, he stared blankly out the window into the night sky. He didn't know what time it was (he had lost track of every passing minute days ago). He didn't know how long he had been standing there wishing that this was part of a horrible, psychotic nightmare. Closing his eyes tightly before opening them again, he realized this was real. He had become a monster, unable to show any emotion outside of the four walls of his bedroom. Even so, there were no tears. Monsters didn't cry. He did tear up a few nights, but there was no sobbing, no crying, just streams of water rolling down his cheeks. All he could do was mull over the thoughts in his head, hoping that he was somehow going to wake up and be someone else. Hoping that somehow he was going to open his eyes and everything was going to be sane again.

He took a long sip of wine, holding his phone tightly as he perused through several composed texts that he was never going to send. Every text was an apology, some of them even begging Blaine to forgive him for being such an asshole. He hadn't sent a single one. He couldn't send them. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't. Part of him knew that Blaine would never forgive him; he would never be able to look at him again. The second Blaine hit the ground, Sebastian was dead to him. Kurt had won. Sebastian had lost. End of story.

"Damn it…" he sighed as he typed another message into his phone:

"I'm so sorry… for everything… I'm sorry for the pain, for the embarrassment, for the fear. I'm so sorry that I did this to you…"

He shook his head, saving the message, not sending it. "No…"

What was it going to change? What was apologizing going to do? The New Directions had no doubt started poisoning Blaine, embellishing the already horrific tale, making it deplorable, unforgivable. There was no way that he was going to make this any better, no way that he was ever going to make things back to the way they were. Blaine trusted him. He trusted him. After the whole world had colored Sebastian as heartless, as a monster, as evil— Blaine was there with his innocence and open mind, able to see past that, to see his pain. He took the one person who saw some form of good in him and he tossed it in the trash, tore him to shreds, making it all fall apart. Chugging the rest of his glass of wine, Sebastian fell onto the bed, facing the ceiling, feeling more water in his eyes.

Maybe if you just lay here for the rest of your life and die, everything would be better, he reached for the bottle of wine next to his bed, bringing it to his lips. No, you'd miss yourself too much. You always have to screw everything up, don't you, you asshole?

As he got lost in red wine, swallowing it quickly, he heard his phone vibrate with a text. It was most likely one of the Warblers texting to tell him that they were keeping an eye on him, not able to trust anything that he did anymore. It was the same thing ever since they found out the truth, that he went too far with that slushie. He pulled the bottle from his lips, licking the wine off of his lips, reaching for the phone, almost regurgitating the alcohol as he saw a single name: Blaine. Opening the text, he feared the worst, feared that he was going to be chewed out, expecting to see the words "you're dead to me." Instead, he saw words that he never expected to see.

"I've been hearing a lot of stuff about you lately… is it true? I want to see you. I want to talk about this, Sebastian. I feel you're the only person who is going to give me an accurate portrayal of this story. Call me. Text me. Come to my house. I have surgery soon. I'd really, REALLY like to talk to you before it."

Sebastian swallowed hard as he went through his text messages that he never intended to send, sending a single one, the simplest, yet most powerful one:

"I'm so sorry, Blaine…"

This is the first chapter of my very dark Seblaine story that I have been working on. This is a short chapter, but it's more of an introduction. The chapters will get progressively longer and longer as time goes by. It's practically the antithesis of "A Drop in the Ocean" (maybe some similarities.)

The next chapter, Sebastian goes to see Blaine.

Feel free to visit me on Tumblr, on this account I will tell when I'm posting new chapters, stories, and other progress (if you're curious). The address is on my profile, feel free to visit if you have any curiosity as to my posting schedule.

Feel free to leave feedback and look out for the next chapter soon.