I would really love if this was how or why Kurt went back to New Directions- which we all know he has to, I'm sorry Dalton lovers, I understand your pain, but he has to. Hey, maybe Blaine will at least follow him, right?
Kurt could hardly believe it. Last week had been going almost perfectly, apart from Pavorotti's death. The boy he was in love with had finally asked him out, in one of the most romantic ways he could have asked for. The Dalton Academy Warblers had finally agreed to let people besides Blaine sing lead- which had ended up giving him his own time singing, with Blaine, at Regionals. He'd had more fun getting his teammates on their feet to cheer for New Directions than he'd actually had performing, which was saying something.
Then the teams had been lined up, each of them ready to take home the gold.
Later, he'd tell Blaine the reason he'd become so clinically depressed was that he'd just really, really, wanted to win. In reality? As he'd stood there, eyes closed waiting for the verdict, holding Blaine's hand, he'd thought repeatedly…please say us, please say us, please say us.
And when they'd made the announcement, "And the winner is… the New Directions you're going to Nationals!" he'd thought-
We won! and his heart had flown sky high.
Directly to his left, he'd seen everyone celebrating. Finn and Rachel, not dating but hugging like they were. Puck high-five-ing Artie, with whom he'd developed an unexpected friendship. Brit throwing her arms around Artie's neck. Santana, Sam, Mike, and Tina whipping their hair around like nobody was watching. Quinn, looking genuinely happy and at peace, unlike last year when she'd ran off the stage and gone into labor. Mercedes and Lauren…
Those two names were enough to snap Kurt out of it. Mercedes, all the way over there, not the one whose hand he'd been gripping so tightly for comfort. Lauren, who'd miraculously shown up to take his place when he'd transferred and left them one short a few weeks before Sectionals. Visions of dancing between Mercy and Quinn in New York melted into the floor. Kurt wasn't going to Nationals. He was a Warbler. New Directions was advancing without him. This moment of joy was theirs. Though he'd clung to his life there almost violently, blackmailing Finn to take he and Blaine to Rachel's party, arranging for Mercedes and Rachel to meet them for coffee, going to the school's championship football game, in all honesty, just to see his friends perform at the half time show, he couldn't change that he wasn't one of them anymore. And though his first boyfriend whispered comfortingly in his ear that everything would be fine, he had never felt so alone in his life.
The depression just wouldn't let up. Mooning after Blaine had been a good distraction before, but now that they were going out, it was harder to daydream about him to pass the time he spent in the cafeteria, all of his "friends" either in a different lunch period or talking to someone else. The Warblers' council gave him a few more solos and a duet, then decided to completely forget Blaine's Pavorotti guilt trip and give everything to the Anderson boy once more. Kurt tried sending Mercedes a quick text in the middle of free period, trying to make it seem like he was stuck in a really boring lecture with no other salvation. When she texted back saying she was a little busy, he almost felt ashamed for suddenly feeling so desperate for her attention.
He did feel ashamed when he'd gone on to text Quinn, Tina, Brit, and then lord forbid Rachel, and found he missed each of them almost as much. Even Rachel- he would have been delighted to find her suddenly materialize beside him, and in her annoying chatter, critique his talent, laziness, or just plain tell him she was a better singer.
Dear Gaga, I should strangle myself for that one. He groaned, turning towards his locker and banging his head against the rusted blue metal. Why did his parents have to waste their honeymoon funds to send him here? That's right, cause he'd been blubbering like a baby to Coach Sylvester about Karofsky. He would have rather jumped like a startled rabbit every time Karofsky came up behind him for a few more weeks till he grew confident the football player wouldn't kill him than get stuck like this, bored with life and missing his friends. He was so trapped. And the uniform. He was just about ready to burn his stupid uniform. Fashionably minded people were just not meant to wear the same thing everyday.
Why were all of the Glee Girls back home busy anyway? That was a little odd- was the club working on something last minute?
"Kurt?" Blaine rubbed the boy's shoulder comfortingly, though he hadn't the slightest idea what was wrong. "Are you listening?"
"When have I ever listened in here, Blaine? The council pretty much says the same things. Every. Rehearsal."
Blaine examined the countertenor's expression, then said, "I'll talk them into giving you another solo if you want."
"There'd really be no point in that, would there? It'll just be a brief affair- and come on, there really are other talents in here besides ours, Blaine," what Kurt wouldn't have given at this point for each boy to take turns singing their favorite songs, so he could finally hear something else than the horribly repetitive numbers he and Blaine did. What about that guy Nick, or David, or Wes? Kurt had never heard any of their voices singled out, or found out what type of music was their thing. He remembered the diva-offs and spontaneous performances he'd been apart of in New Directions. He was getting a migraine.
Blaine frowned helplessly in his boyfriend's direction. It would help so much if he knew what was wrong.
"How's school going, Kurt?" Burt asked.
"Fine," he murmured, the same monotone he'd used the past few Friday Night Dinners. He knew his dad would eventually decide something was up, but he wasn't going to lie, and he didn't want to make the man regret wasting his honeymoon funds on tuition.
"What about that boyfriend of yours?" Carole asked, surprisingly easy about it, though Burt started eating again before she was halfway done with her sentence. He had the strangest feeling that if Finn had decided to go his way, Carole would have had an easier time with it than Burt. He still loved his dad for trying so hard, though.
"Blaine's wonderful," Kurt smiled a little, and Carole grinned back, then shot Burt a look that obviously meant she'd won some "be-the-first-to-make-him-show-signs-of-life" contest.
Burt snorted, shoving pasta down his throat. It was no secret Burt wasn't so sure about Blaine- the boy had overstepped his boundaries twice before they'd actually started going out, getting drunk and crashing in Kurt's bed, then getting a little rude trying to talk Burt into giving Kurt the sex talk, which hadn't been comfortable for either of them.
"How's New Directions doing?" Kurt asked Finn, trying to change the subject.
"Great. Rachel's had us getting ready for Nationals since we got on the bus back to Mckinley," Finn smiled a little. Kurt didn't want to know what sappy duets Rachel was using to win him back. What he did want was more details- what songs had been sung in the past week? What drama had gone on with the Bartie/Brittana love triangle? Had Mr. Schue figured out things wouldn't work out with Miss Holiday and ran back to Miss Pillsbury yet? Had Sue come up with some new twisted plot to take down the club? Were any of them still drinking behind Mr. Schuester's back?
Did Mercedes or Quinn ever ask about him?
He stabbed his fork blindly at his salad. What had Finn said? Oh yeah, Rachel was working them hard. "Sounds like her."
"You didn't tell him did you?" Rachel fired as soon as Finn walked in Monday morning.
"Of course I didn't!" he jumped, taken aback by the suspicious looks half the room was giving him. "Why would you think that? Does it seem like he's catching on?"
"I don't know, but Kurt's been texting us non-stop recently. We thought you might have slipped something." Quinn murmured absently, never looking up from where she and Lauren were pasting sequins to a large poster.
"Why would I do that?" he blinked, honestly confused.
"Because he's your brother, because he's blackmailing you, because you probably couldn't talk about it in your home without him overhearing…" Rachel listed, obviously having thought this out earlier.
"He doesn't know anything. I promise. He actually kinda looks mad when he asks about us and I give him short answers," Finn shrugged, going to help Puck plan for the cupcakes they were going to sell. Puck told him to pour small packets of something disgusting looking into each batch if he wanted to make anything off them- apparently this was his Grandma Connie's secret ingredient he'd used back when they were raising money for Artie.
"He asks about us?" Mercedes grins a bit, before layering paint over a faded spot on the poster Sam had been assigned.
"Yeah. Guess he misses us sometimes. Probably explains all the extra texting." he mumbled, sniffing one of the packets and wincing. Grandma Connie had strong ingredients.
"Well, we don't have to worry about keeping him waiting too long, right? The day's almost here!" Tina sounded like an excited politician as Mike lifted her to tend to the flowers she was growing in the windowsill.
"Yeah, Burt said the twenty-fourth…"
"But, that's literally in like, two days!" Rachel exclaimed in horror. "Alright team, time to pick up the pace, this has to happen quickly-"
"Shut up," Puck threw a dirty dish cloth in her face, and the rest of the room continued work silently as if she'd never spoken. ]Besides Mercedes and Quinn, as they were leader and second in command of this particular operation.
Mr. Schue walked in and grinned, examining the busy teenagers all over the room. Well, they had been busy- with his entrance the room was staring at him, hopefully.
"Great work guys. Don't worry, I talked to Dalton Academy's principal already- it'll be fine."
That was a relief. Everyone resumed work as if he hadn't entered the room at all. Sue came in behind him without a word, and went to direct Santana and Brittany in the dance they were practicing. No one questioned her.
A couple more days, maybe. Kurt was frustrated. Still no answers from his former friends, and Finn still refused to relate much at all, besides how insufferably hard Rachel was working them.
"Kurt?" he was brought abruptly back to the present when, in the middle of a Warbler meeting, Wes had addressed him from the Council's table.
"I'm sorry, what?" he tried to sit up and look a bit more alert. Blaine gave him a worried look that he couldn't for the life of him ever manage to miss.
"We just wanted to congratulate you on turning eighteen," he explained. Kurt twitched. His oddly placed birthday was going to make him nineteen before he got out of high school. The Warblers missed his discomfort and burst into applause, as enthusiastic as if he'd actually sang something. He smiled and shrugged, and Blaine patted his shoulder.
Once again, they started talking about whatever they talked about. He traced circles into the fabric of the couch he sat on with his forefinger. He remembered getting annoyed last year, how angry he'd been at his father for choosing Finn over him, even when he'd gone Butch Kurt. He'd been allowed to go to the auditorium at his own will and sing Rose's Turn, not for a competition or performance, though he wouldn't have minded performing it, but for himself. So he could just get it out of his system. What he wouldn't give for a place like that here. Maybe he'd have to break into the April Rhodes Pavilion after school.
The intercom beeped. "Can we have Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson in the cafeteria at once please?" the principal asked politely. Kurt frowned. He didn't quite recall anything that went on in the cafeteria at this time of the day, so did that mean they were in trouble? He eyed Blaine, but the boy just shrugged and stood to go. Kurt followed him.
Kurt stopped right outside of the sliding double doors to the cafeteria and eyed them, blocking Blaine's entrance.
"Kurt…?"
"Blaine… this seems exactly the point in a horror film where the happy couple will enter their burial ground unsuspectingly and find themselves attacked by the flesh-eating beast of terror… would you like to open the doors, or shall I?"
Blaine laughed, and opened the door wide for Kurt to enter.
Kurt stared inside for a minute. "Dear Gaga…"
"What?" Blaine glanced into the room, as if expecting said flesh-eating beast of terror to appear. "Oh my…"
Inside the cafeteria, it was colorful, and bright. The walls were covered in posters, besides one embarrassing blank spot that was artfully blocked with a table of cupcakes, labeled "Grandma Connie's Finest". A large cake was in the center of a table in the middle of the room, and balloons were placed in front of windows. Lovely flowers bloomed in pots placed on each empty surface, and when Kurt finally took a tentative step in for a better look, music blared- Money Honey by Lady Gaga.
He and Blaine weren't the only ones in the room- there were a lot of vaguely familiar people milling around, girls and boys none of which were in the Dalton uniform, so he knew they didn't go to school here. Then he caught sight of Sue- directing four or five Cheerios in a complicated dance number, in front of a poster that read For Porcelain.
That's when he started zeroing in on everyone else- Noah and Finn at the cupcake stand, almost crowded out by all the people trying to buy. Lauren Zises and Sam Evans, holding up a giant sign with the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" on it. Rachel grinning mischievously, as if she deserved all the credit for the festivities, and talking to Artie from opposite sides of the cake. He didn't bother to look for Santana and Brittany- he assumed those were the only girls with the cheerios who weren't wearing the uniform, they'd just been moving too fast for him to recognize. Schuester was in the corner, thanking the Dalton principal vigorously for the space.
Kurt put a hand over his mouth so he wouldn't make any extremely embarrassing noises of shock where Blaine could hear. Blaine let out a long whistle, but besides his own surprise, was incredibly relieved. Maybe this would help get Kurt out of his funk.
"Boo," Kurt about jumped out of his skin, but it was only Mercedes and Quinn coming up on either side of him.
"Oh my God. You guys," He hugged Mercedes tightly, then pulled Quinn in for a short squeeze of her own. "I can't believe you did this!"
"I can't believe the school let us do this," Mercedes said with a shrug, as if this was no big deal.
"Well, I just needed to see your face at the reveal- now I'm going to help with Sue's number over there," Quinn kissed the countertenor on the cheek, then ran off to the group of Cheerios.
"And we made sure they asked for you and Blaine, since we figured you'd want to dance with your boy on your birthday," Mercedes explained proudly, as if this last detail meant she'd covered all the stops.
Kurt's shoulders slumped the slightest bit, and he glanced over to Blaine. At the impromptu reunion, the boy had slinked over to give them room, and managed to get caught up in the cupcake war.
"I think I'd rather dance with my girl for a while first. Blaine seems busy enough," Kurt tried to keep his voice even. Mercedes laughed loudly.
"I missed you too, White Boy."
And.. Yeah. That's it. I wasn't sure about the ending, but yeah. Review=Love, Love=Cookies. ;-)