Title: Fault
Summary/Notes: I'm going to be honest - I've barely watched Glee. I've watched a few episodes, and this story was screaming at me to write it, so...here it is. I'll probably keep coming around to edit and tweak things, but yes. I don't know if I'll write a follow up to this.
You had just auditioned for 'Grease' and Artie and Finn were thrilled with your performance...at least, Artie was. Finn looked lost in thought and almost mad. How could you blame him - you cheated on his brother with a guy you barely knew…no, with a guy you absolutely didn't know.
Hopelessly devoted, huh? You were; you wanted to be.
Somehow, like so many people do, you took a wrong turn and now you were miserably lost - and why? Truthfully, you had no idea. What took place and the outcomes of those actions were all your fault, but you couldn't explain yourself.
"I needed you and you weren't there!"
Well, maybe.
You hurry out of the auditorium and back into the main hallway, looking for some place where you could simply be alone with your thoughts. After passing by a few classrooms, you manage to find one empty room with the lights turned off, so you quickly sneak in and close the door behind you, leaning back against it before sliding down to take a seat on the floor. You need to process all the memories and words and emotions floating through your head; the headache you start to feel is intense but you deserve it.
Where to start...
Senior year at McKinley was not exactly going how you planned. Yes, Kurt was in New York with Rachel but that didn't mean anything; you were both strong enough to handle a long distance relationship, right? Right.
And yet, deep down, you felt like you were giving a hundred and ten percent of yourself into the relationship while Kurt was only giving maybe half of that.
No, you couldn't blame him either. He was in a new state, new town, had an amazing opportunity at , living a new life with Rachel in the city that never sleeps. Of course his time for you was cut short, but you sometimes wondered if he was aware of that fact, if he was aware that he was kind of, sort of, casting you off to the side. It wasn't in Kurt Hummel's blood to even think that way, so he probably was completely oblivious to the fact that he was pretty much casting you aside.
He was beyond you. He was moving beyond Blaine Anderson, the younger boy all the way back in Lima who was still in high school. The younger boy was the president of the senior class, the new Rachel of the glee club. The younger boy that woke up and went to school and came home and slept and throughout that whole time missed his boyfriend horribly every hour of the day because there really wasn't anything left to do but miss him.
Did you feel like you fit in with the New Directions? You had thought so. Nowadays, you felt more like they saw you as Kurt's boyfriend than Blaine; Brittany even called you Blaine Warbler, still. Did any of them see you as a friend, as an ally, as anything other than Kurt's boyfriend? You had a little more hope in Sam, after all he was your vice president, but still. You felt so alone.
You left your friends, your school, to join a public school that was completely less tolerant of who you were, so you could be with the love of your life. And no, you didn't resent him, but now that he was gone...why were you there? They treated you horribly during presidential campaigning, no one asked you anything about how you were feeling, or even bothered to go after you when you ran off after the audition. Could you really consider them friends?
The people you truly could consider friends graduated. The thought made you feel even more alone, and that was a horrible excuse - you cheated on Kurt, the love of your life, because you felt alone? Really?
You curse under your breath in the silence of the classroom, hiding your face in your hands as you start to breathe in and out deeply to keep from crying again. What had you done? 'Think back,' your mind screams, punishing you further. You don't want to think about the events leading up to that very moment, but they play out like a car crash you can't tear your gaze away from.
Eli was someone you knew for maybe a day or two, but you had never met in person. That almost made things easier to deal with, it was almost as if your flirty texts and conversation didn't exist. No one knew about Eli, you barely knew about Eli, so it was like it never happened.
It was so simple - what happens on the internet, stays on the internet. No one at McKinley ever had to know. You could release all your frustrations, think about something other than your heartache and loneliness, and he had somebody to get off with. Everyone wins - everyone except Kurt, that is, but you were far too gone in your own despair to recognize that fact yet.
Being with him on that day was kind of like a high, or getting drunk to the point where forgetting everything is easy. Fingertips tracing lines along each other's skin, heavy breathing, the friction that drove you mad - it was all something to forget how miserable you felt, because in that instant all you could think of was how good it felt to be there, to feel pleasure and, for once, happiness.
You were a masochist though, and you were thinking of Kurt the entire time. Every gasp or moan you heard, you heard it in Kurt's voice, not Eli's. Every feel of lips against your skin, you imagined Kurt's lips. Everything was Kurt, KurtKurtKurt, and when all the making out and foreplay was about to go to the next level, your imagination, your fantasy, and reality all blended together into one and you moaned out Kurt's name causing Eli to stop everything in its tracks. His stopping made you blink and realize where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with, and you almost threw up. You were out of his bed, dressed, and out the front door so fast you were sure it was a new world record. You wanted to shower in scalding hot water, wash your mouth with all the Listerine in the world, throw yourself into heavy rush hour traffic in Times Square...
Times Square...
New York...
Kurt.
What had you done?
You find yourself back in reality, quietly crying once more. A soft chuckle escapes you; you had really done this to yourself. You told Kurt to go to New York - you sang it to him. You were the one that happily went to Eli with open arms. Every ounce of suffering you felt was all by your own hand, there was no one to blame but yourself. You were no victim. You are no victim.
You haven't heard from Eli ever since. Kurt won't answer your calls or texts or letters. The New Directions still don't exactly treat you as an equal all of the time.
If you felt alone before, you were going to need a new word to describe how you felt now. Because now, you were really alone.
And it's all your own fault.