PART I
"...Thank you for boarding with American Airlines. Please exit in an orderly fashion and we hope to see you again."
Blaine already had most of his stuff ready to go, save his laptop, and his heart was beating so fast in his chest he was positive that it was going to explode. His eyes darted around the plane; he found a tired looking middle-aged woman dressed in a pant-suit gathering her things from the above compartment, her long bob cut falling in front of her eyes, but she made no effort to move it. Blaine mentally guessed that she was probably on a business trip. As her bags touched the ground, she looked up at him and he turned away immediately.
Blaine didn't really care for social interactions. It's not that he was particularly shy, or that he didn't know how to speak to people, he just chose not to. It was much easier to be alone. There was no such thing as drama or feelings or attachment.
As the rows began to clear out and the long line of people started to shrink, Blaine moved to the aisle and grabbed his bags from above the seats in front of him. With only carry-on, his trip out of the airport would be nice and quick. Now that all three bags in hand, Blaine followed a portly man out of the front exit and nodded at the plastic stewardess who was reciting a scripted farewell to every passenger that moved past her.
Walking through the terminal at a quickened pace, Blaine dodged and weaved around the collection of people in his way. Groups of people hugging and greeting each other were like blood clots in a vein, only delaying the hustle of traffic around them, older men with white hair and black suits stood in a horizontal line with white boards; each one displaying a different name.
"So loud..." Blaine noted as the sound of the airport swallowed his eardrums.
Loud speakers were announcing flights to destinations all around the world, people were yelling around him, trying to make their voices be heard above all of the other noise, flustered workers were talking to customers, some angry, others bored, and almost every single person Blaine passed was talking on a cell phone to an unknown person. People were lost; looking around them like a stranger was going to help. Smells of different kinds of fast food chains overtook Blaine's nostrils as he continued to walk, his arms starting to ache from all the pressure of his belongings.
When he finally made it outside to the cab line Blaine set his items down and raised a hand to hail his transportation, his eyes alert of a yellow car to be his rescuer from this place. After waiting for nearly ten minutes, frustration began to grow. People around Blaine were getting cabs a lot faster than he was it seemed. At a towering five-nine, Blaine knew that he was a little shorter than most people, but surely that wouldn't be the reason he wasn't getting a cab, right? The cool, night air felt nice, but he didn't feel like standing there forever, with all of his possessions collected around his feet, for all of the world to see.
Blaine checked his watch and it read 7:16 pm. The sun had already made it almost all the way down behind the buildings and the sky was growing darker and darker with each moment.
"Dammit, come on." Blaine complained internally as he inched closer to the road hoping to gain more attention than the others by being closer than the rest he would get a cab faster.
To his surprise it worked. A yellow cab finally located Blaine, sighing with relief he grabbed his bags hurriedly and moved up to the cab before it had even fully stopped. Grabbing the handle, he jumped into the cab.
"Where to?" The middle eastern cabbie said politely, but before he could answer the driver side back door flung open and a young Asian male leaped in, sitting next to Blaine.
"Um?" Blaine asked. "I'm already in this one."
"We'll share." He said looking at Blaine with a flash of a smile that showcased his perfect white teeth as he situated his black duffle bag onto his lap.
"You don't even know if we're going to the same place..." Blaine responded as he felt his eyebrow arch up on his forehead, his tone was dry and uninviting.
"That may be true," the stranger said ignoring Blaine's rudeness, his deep brown eyes finding the smaller guys' hazel ones. "but we haven't even discussed that with the cabbie who, in my opinion is the most important person to know this information." The strangers words were met with silence.
"Who the hell is this person?" Blaine thought as another part of his brain searched for a viable response to the strangers words.
"Where to?" The cabbie asked, growing impatient.
Blaine relayed the address to the cabbie and as the car began to move his eyes moving to the back of the passenger seat in front of him, but he could still see the stranger in his peripherals, who was still looking at him. Blaine was incredibly uncomfortable. Why did this person think that he could decide that they were going to share a cab?
"And for you sir?" The cabbie said, directing the question to the stranger, but never looking back.
"I can just walk from his location." He said in a blasé tone as the car lurched forward. "Where are you coming from?" He inquired looking at Blaine, with a friendly voice.
Blaine didn't answer again and instead kept his eyes on the seat in front of him, internally wishing the stranger would just shut up and leave him alone.
"Not much of a talker huh?" The stranger said brightly. "It's okay." He smiled at Blaine again and looked out of his window.
Blaine looked at the Asian again through the corners of his eyes. His black hair was standing up, but there were no signs of hair product. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt. His skin was a good mixture of light and dark. His nicely toned biceps and broad shoulders allowed Blaine to guess that the stranger worked out frequently. In the back of his brain, Blaine noted that his unwanted cab buddy was attractive.
"Wait," he told himself, "don't check out the stranger. What's wrong with you?" The stranger mumbled next to Blaine.
"What?" He said looking at him, his tone coming off more rude than he maybe intended.
"It's nothing." the stranger said quickly, possibly sensing Blaine's annoyance.
Blaine debated on calling him out on his lie, but decided it was in his best interest to avoid confrontation.
"My name is Mike or Michael." The stranger said his eyes still connecting with his passenger. He said his name confidently, but quietly.
Blaine looked at him, once again having a hard time finding words to respond. The stranger was being nice enough and maybe it wouldn't be that terrible to not have to pay for a full cab. Suddenly guilt crept into Blaine for being rude to the guy and as was natural for him an internal panic took over. Not really thinking clearly, Blaine offered his hand out in silence.
The Asian smiled, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. "It's nice to meet you as well."
Blaine's brain finally regained itself.
"Blaine." He said in a small voice. Finally, managing to squirm out a faulty smile.
"Well Blaine," said the man called Mike or Michael as he adjusted his body to face his neighbor, "what brings you to the airport this fine evening?"
Blaine didn't answer immediately. It was a hard question for him. In reality he went home to see his parents, answer his mothers questions about how life was and be subjected to his father's smug bragging about how he did all of the work and pulled all of the strings to get him some stupid job interview that he wasn't even remotely enthralled about getting. But bills were piling up, and his dad firmly stated that he would have no hand in paying for something that he didn't believe was worth the time or the money, of course he said all of this as he tipped the butler a crisp hundred dollar bill.
"Just some family time." He finally answered Mike simply.
"Well that's always nice."
"Sometimes." Blaine mumbled, but luckily his voice went unheard.
A silence came between the two for a minute as the topic had quickly run dry. As Mike turned to face forward again, Blaine's eyes fell upon the lights that were whizzing by them. The mixtures of reds, whites, yellows and greens numbed his mind for a while, everything fading into a fuzzy background of unimportance. Blaine sighed, forgetting he was with two strangers, forgetting that his father cared more about his reputation than his son, and forgetting that he still had some job interview that he had actually briefly considered not going to.
"So…." Mike said carefully, apparently finding a new subject to talk about. Blaine turned his neck to face him. "Where are you from?"
"Nowhere important." Blaine said simply.
The statement seemed to have portrayed it's message quite well to Mike or Michael, because in only an instant his face fell. "Running from a shitty home life?" he asked.
The content of Mike or Michael's question caught Blaine off guard. It wasn't because of the curse words, to be honest Blaine cursed enough to make a sailor switch to panties and blush, it was how Mike or Michael said it. There wasn't emotion or a facial expression to follow it, it was just words sitting in the air.
"Yeah…" Blaine said after a moment. He felt his face contorted from his analysis of the situation. He quickly tried to cover it up.
"Hey, I've been there." Mike or Michael sighed. "Sucks man, you can't choose where you come from, but you can definitely choose where you're going." He patted Blaine on the shoulder.
"Amen." The cabbie said in his thick accent, his eyes looking into the mirror above him.
The rest of the ride continued on in comfortable silence, Mike or Michael leaving Blaine to his own thoughts, Blaine lost in his brain and the cabbie weaving in and out of traffic, only when they finally pulled in front of Blaine's apartment building, and Blaine fished his bags out of the trunk did any dialogue happen again.
As Blaine shut the trunk and moved forward to the driver side, did he find Mike or Michael already standing on the sidewalk, looking as the cab driver pulled away. Confused Blaine turned on him.
"You didn't." He accused.
Mike or Michael shrugged his shoulders. "I did." His face contorting into a smile.
"That was like fifty bucks!" Blaine said, his voice a little louder than he normally allowed.
"Plus tip." Mike or Michael said, making a overdramatic dramatic look on his face, even going as far as putting a limp wrist on his forehead.
Blaine looked at him, annoyance in his blood. "I thought we were going to split it?"
"We were, but then we didn't. I ain't mad about it."
"I feel bad about it." Blaine said, putting his bags on the ground.
Mike or Michael smiled. "Fine. I guess I'll let you buy me lunch since you are so graciously insisting. Here is my number," and he walked forward, handing Blaine a small piece of paper with his name scribbled atop some numbers. " Thursday, noon, Diner 24." He smiled and walked down the dark street, black duffle bag slung over his shoulder and leaving a stunned Blaine in the street light.
PART II
Blaine stood outside the small diner with his hands shoved nervously into his pockets and his foot unable to control itself from tapping quickly on the ground as he waited for Mike to arrive. Blaine pulled out his phone and checked the time. Mike still had ten minutes to arrive, and that was if he got there at exactly at 12:00 pm. Getting annoyed that he couldn't keep still, he began to pace in small circles on the sidewalk. As he moved, he looked at his outfit again, making sure it was right, a grey jacket with the sleeves rolled up, a white t-shirt and black jeans seemed casual, but proper at the time Blaine picked it, but now he was starting to regret his decision. It looked more and more ugly as he continued to stare at it. He ran his hand through his curly hair, regretting that he decided to not put gel in it.
"I shouldn't have come. It was a mistake. I should have just ignored him. He would have lived with being stood up." Blaine thought, but remembered the guilt that had earlier sunk in when he initially brought the choice up to himself.
"Um, hello in there." Came a voice. Blaine's head snapped up to find Mike standing before him, dressed in grey basketball shorts and a black hoodie over a black tank top.
"Dammit, I knew I overdressed." Blaine sighed as he took in what Mike was wearing.
"You did not." He said smiling. "I underdressed, rehearsal ran late and I didn't have enough time to all the way across town. Besides it's just lunch, not the Grammy's."
"I still wanted to look nice…" Blaine mumbled nervously, his heart attacking his ribs and his eyes falling to the dirty sidewalk below them.
"And you do. Now let's go eat, I'm going to die from starvation soon." Mike said dramatically as he moved towards the door and held it open for Blaine to walk in front of him.
The smell of coffee and food attacked Blaine's senses as soon as he walked through the door. As his eyes adjusted to the darker setting a small hostess came into view with a wide smile.
"Good afternoon gentlemen!" She greeted them brightly. "Just two for you?"
"Yes please." Mike responded politely as she grabbed the menus and headed into the depths of the diner, weaving around tables of guests. As the two sat across from each other in the booth Blaine checked for his wallet again, the waitress took drink orders, as well as food because Mike couldn't wait, causing Blaine to awkwardly flip through the menu, deciding on the first thing his eyeballs fell to.
"So, are you going to talk to me during this meal? You were so gracious after all to invite me here." Mike asked, a smile on his mouth
"You volunteered me for this lunch" Blaine responded.
"I distinctly remember you asking me to come." Mike said as he played with his napkin, folding it various times.
"We remember things quite differently." Blaine said, which was met with a laugh from Mike.
"Alright, alright." He said, putting his hands up in defeat.
Blaine looked around the restaurant behind Mike as the conversation fell into another silence. The red booths and bar chairs stood out against the mixture of metallic and green walls. The floor was a deep, wooden brown and large, cone shaped lights protruded from the ceilings, giving the already warmed diner a nice modern look. Various people occupied the seats, some alone, others with family members, Blaine even saw a table where a young guy and an attractive girl nervously looked past each other, the girl blushing and the guy nervously laughing behind his coffee.
Cooks in white jackets could be spotted through a large, thin and horizontal hole in the wall, where food was passed from kitchen to server. There was noise, but it's details were confined to each table, making the overall chatter nothing more than a collection of voices in the air. Their large server, finally returned with the drinks she had promised, causing Blaine to look back at Mike, who had successfully created a lumpy, napkin sway that was drooping at the neck. Only when the waitress left, declaring that the food would arrive shortly did Blaine's brain finally decide to ask a question.
"What are you rehearsing for?"
Mike looked up from his creation, his disappointed look fading quickly as his eyes met Blaine's.
"Hairspray."
"The musical?" Blaine asked, suddenly interested as the conversation was turning to a point of his own interests.
"No, the song." Mike said sarcastically, which caused Blaine to roll his eyes, and Mike to laugh. "Yes, the musical, but no Broadway or anything, just some small community theatre."
Blaine nodded as he took a drink from his cup. "How- uh, how are they going?" Mike's eyebrows joined together in confusion. Blaine panicked as he realized he wasn't making any sense. "The rehearsals I mean."
"Hectic." Mike responded as he pulled his hands under the table onto his lap. "I have five rehearsals just this week alone, all of them are about 5 hours long. I'm going to be dead by Wednesday tops."
"Well at least you love it, so it keeps you going." Blaine said.
"I do. I've been waiting to dance for Hairspray for years, even if it is for community theatre." Mike said.
Before Blaine could respond a chunky woman with red hair arrived with their food. Mike's eyes grew enormous with hunger as she set the burger down in front of him. Before it had even touched the table, his hands made a reappearance above the table and already began to reach for the massive burger.
"Can I confess something to you?" Blaine asked, feeling brave as the waitress ambled away.
"Of course." Mike said, a mouth full of food congesting his speech a little.
"When you first got in the cab, I really didn't like you."
Mike laughed loudly, which confused Blaine.
"I don't blame you." Mike said after he gained control of himself. "I kind of just made myself at home in your cab." Blaine smiled. "What's your general assessment of the situation now?" he said in a mock important voice.
"We'll have to see I guess." Blaine said as he popped a few salty fries into his mouth.
"Oh yeah?" Mike said through some burger in his mouth. "Well do you have any notes thus far?" he asked, keeping his tone in the same mock-importance.
"Well," Blaine said, putting his elbows on the table, "I have never seen a burger stand such little chance against a person in my entire life." He smiled at Mike as he laughed again.
A moment of silence took place as the two ate their meals. When Mike spoke again, his tome was more serious than normal.
"Can I confess something?" He asked.
"It's only fair." Blaine said.
"I'm really glad you showed up today. I was pretty much banking on you not coming." Blaine tilted his head, deciding if the words were insulting or not, to which Mike noticed. "I came off a little strong, offering you up to pay for my meal and stuff."
Blaine decided not to tell Mike he considered not coming. "I have something else to tell you." He said in stead, "I forgot my wallet."
"Ha ha ha." Mike said. "I already saw you check for it when we sat down."
"Damn." Blaine whispered.
"Nice try though." Mike said through his burger.
As the hours of the day began to quickly pass by Blaine and Mike began to talk more, Blaine finally opening up a little more and Mike listening to everything that he said. The waitress came by multiple times to see if they needed anything, but as her shift got slower, she began to care less and less.
Blaine told Mike about how is father was a big time stockbroker in Columbus and that his mother was a retired relator. He told Mike of his brother who moved to LA to become a famous actor, but was lucky if he got a job that allowed him to be on any set. Blaine told him of his old high school, and that he dated someone once, but I didn't work out when they both went to college. Hold told Mike everything he wanted to know, and a little more. As Blaine spoke, Mike's eyes were locked onto his face. They were mesmerized and they scrunched into little wrinkles when he laughed.
When it was Mike's turn to speak he told Blaine everything. He told him of how he went to high school only miles away from Blaine, and how he had auditioned for Julliard seven times, but they still wouldn't accept him because they don't like "undisciplined dancers". He talked about his shabby one bedroom apartment, but he also said that he loved it, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He told Blaine that his parents were a traditional Chinese family, and that they disagreed with his career choice, but he didn't really care too much.
When the night started to round out, and the two knew everything there was to know about the other, they finally paid the bill, which Mike paid for again, despite Blaine's protesting, and tipped the waitress nicely as an apology for taking up a table for so long. They walked outside of the diner as the sun began to set behind the building behind them, signaling the arrival of the evening.
"Thanks for lunch." Mike said with a smug smile. Blaine gave him a look, which caused a laugh from Mike. "Alright, alright. You're welcome for lunch." Blaine just smiled and rolled his eyes.
"Goodbye Mike." Blaine said as he offered his hand out.
Mike smiled and took Blaine's hand. "Goodbye Blaine. Lunch again tomorrow after your interview, deal?"
Blaine smiled and they both retracted their hands. "Deal, but I am actually paying for it this time. If I even think I see your wallet tomorrow I'm going to confiscate it."
"Sounds good to me!" Mike said. Then he turned and walked down the sidewalk, looking back at Blaine one last time before he turned the corner to go to his small apartment.
PART III
Blaine awoke with a start, his heart beating quickly in fear that he had overslept through his interview. Seeing that the clock displayed that it was only 7:03 AM, Blaine sighed and walked to the bathroom and jumped in the shower, shaved and all of other necessary hygienic routines. Blaine got dressed, made sure he had all of the papers he would need in his bag before pulling out his phone and calling his father to let him know that he was indeed still going to his interview.
After the unpleasant conversation, Blaine checked his apartment again to see if he had left anything that he might need before he shut the door behind him and walked down the hallway, waited patiently for the elevator to arrive and rode it all the way down to the lobby.
When he exited the massive glass doors of his building he stood on the edge of the curb, trying to reel in his biggest enemy, the yellow cab, however to his benefit, the cab arrived at only ten to eight and he was on his way downtown.
The morning was gorgeous, the sky was a calming blue color, lined with large, poufy clouds. The traffic was in his favor as there were only a couple of stops on his way, but those were only due to traffic lights themselves and Blaine even got lucky enough to have a polite cabbie for once.
After making it to his destination, Blaine got out of the cab and checked his watch, it was almost 8:15 AM, but he wanted to hurry and get there as fast as possible. His father berated him this morning, making sure that he wasn't going to make a bad first impression by showing up late. Blaine dodged around the people cluttering the streets. His heart began to beat fast as he the giant builder got taller and taller with each step. He needed to make his dad proud for once.
As Blaine walked through followed the mill of people that walked through the giant glass doors, Blaine's heartbeat increased and his nerves seemed to be unable to get themselves under control. When he reached the massive, marble lobby he looked around for a moment, finally locating a receptionist desk.
"Hello," he said cheerily as he made his way up to the blonde receptionist.
"Good morning sir. What can I help you with?" she said with a smile.
"I need to get to a Mr. Robert Weissman's office. How would I get there?" he asked politely.
"You are Mr. Anderson?" she asked, to which Blaine nodded. "That would be up on the eighty-second floor. You can take the elevator and I will phone him now."
"Thanks." He said quickly as he ran to the elevator that was about to close.
Barely making it inside Blaine looked around him. The letters WTC were on a gold plate to his left. Only four other people stood in the elevator with him, they pale colored suits matching his, all looking tired and bored.
As the doors opened on each level the people in the elevator changed an rotated at least a dozen times. Blaine's mind went to answering questions that he thought would be asked during his interview. His heartbeat was fast, but no longer increasing and his brain was going nuts.
After what felt like forever, Blaine finally made it to the eighty-second floor as he checked his watch, 8:42 AM. He raced to the receptionist desk and smiled warmly at the old lady who occupied it. He waited for her to finish the phone and looked at her desk decorations to past time and not look too impatient.
He noticed that she had a flip calendar book, and just to be safe he double-checked that it was Tuesday the eleventh. Finally the woman got off the phone and turned to Blaine.
"Good morning young man, welcome to the World Trade Center, North Tower, What can I help you with?"
-ooOoo-
The sunlight welcomed Mike as he walked down the sidewalk to rehearsal. He was in a cheerful mood and of course, Blaine was on his mind. It was obvious to him that he like Blaine in all of his weird, quiet glory. He liked the way Blaine made him laugh, the way he made him think and even in some aspects, he liked how Blaine kept him on his toes.
Mike decided not to take a cab to his studio that day. It was too nice of a day, and as it was he was already going to be late, so the brisk walk was kind of like his warm-up. As he turned down the street, Mike had an idea and he took out his phone and sent a text to Blaine, wishing him luck on his interview and reminding him of the lunch that he had promised, or that Mike had promised for him, but in Mike's mind it didn't matter. It was another opportunity to see Blaine.
Suddenly, Mike heard a loud buzzing above him and he was pretty sure he felt the ground shake beneath him. Confused and slightly scared, Mike looked up plane was only a few feet above the tall buildings in Manhattan. Mike's eyes couldn't believe it, why was a plane flying so low? It was surely going to hit one of the buildings if it kept flying that way.
Mike's brain connected the dots before he could properly register it. Within moments, the large plane slammed into the World Trade Center with a ginormous explosion. Mike's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach as he came to the realization. Blaine was in that building for his interview. His eyes didn't leave the sight the whole time he ran closer to the buildings, silently hating his legs for not moving fast enough.
In a time frame that took way too long, Mike arrived as close as he could to the scene. People came out of plumes of smoke covered in blood and dirt, running into the helpful arms of the paramedics who were there to treat them. Mike's brain was numb as he watched the people, hoping that Blaine was the next one to exit the building, even though his brain told him it was impossible.
Finally allowing anger to take his body over, Mike ran forward, yelling Blaine's name as the tears took over his face, but he choked them back. He was going to get to Blaine. He was going to save him; he was going to make sure that they had their lunch date that day.
He only made it a few feet before a jumble of strong arms held him back, all of the voices telling him to calm down. Mike only succumbed when another loud buzzing sound took over his eardrums. Horrified, he looked up only to see another plane hit the already burning towers twin. Mike only cried again. He couldn't deal with all of the things that were happening. It was too much, but he stood there for he didn't know how long, waiting for Blaine to appear out of the smoke.
Suddenly amidst all the noise Mike somehow heard his phone ring. With trembling fingers he pulled the device from his pocket and saw Blaine's name flashing across the screen. Maybe he was looking for Mike. Maybe he was late to the interview and didn't even go inside the building. The phone rang one more time and Mike quickly answered it.
"Hello?! Hello?" Mike said frantically, running to find a quieter spot in the madness.
"Mi-Mike-Mi" Blaine's voice game, it was loud on his end too, his voice was being cut off and Mike was sure he could hear screaming in the background.
"Blaine!" Mike screamed.
"Mike. I ju- want- can't make it to lunch. Sorry." He said. He was crying, but Mike could guess that Blaine wasn't trying to let him know.
"It's okay man." Mike said, his chest swelling up, becoming full with grief. "You're still gonna be there, they're on their way to get you now." He tried to be optimistic for Blaine. He was failing.
"I love you Mike." Blaine said before he was cut off, and all Mike could do is watch the tall building that Blaine was in crumple to the ground, burying Blaine within it's rubble.