'Great idea, Blaine. Walk home. You live in the country.' I thought to myself as I walked down the surprisingly empty highway.

At night.

Alone.

Anyone else picturing a horror movie?

I stumble, I don't know if it's from the buzz I still have (I sobered up about a mile ago) or a rock. I kick at the ground and curse. I blame Kurt.

Kurt.

My man and my inspiration.

'Why does he have to be right?' Our first time shouldn't be in the parking lot of gay bar, all rushed and unromantic. Kurt deserves so much more than that.

I sighed and pulled out my cell. No calls or messages from my man. I dialed my home number. My parents wouldn't be there, they were in France for some art thing (ask me if I care) but Bailey was there. Bailey is my twin sister and she was home for the weekend from Crawford. She is the only one in my damn family that actually accepts me for me.

"Anderson residence, Bailey speaking."

"Bails? It's Blaine. I need you to come and get me."

"Sure. Where are you?" I looked around at the dark vastness that was rural Ohio.

"Uhh, the countryside?"

"Excuse me? Blaine, what's going on?" Panic entered her voice.

"I had a few drinks and got into a lover's spat with Kurt. I stormed off…"

"Lover's spat? You are drunk." She giggled.

"Bails, please."

"Ok, ok. Sorry. There should be a gas station around there or something. Walk there and give me a call. Blaine, be careful."

"Yeah, yeah. Bye." I hung up and kept on walking. My thoughts slowly wondered back to Kurt. He was mad when I left, mad that I danced with Sebastian.

Sebastian Smythe.

I guess I could blame him.

If it wasn't for him, Kurt and I would have never gone to Scandals, I never would have gotten drunk, and Kurt and I could be cuddled up in post sex bliss right now.

Actually, I blame myself.

If I didn't get the part in West Side Story, I never would have gone to Dalton and I never would have met the creep.

I thought about this as I walked into the only gas station between Lima and my house. I sent a text to Bailey and bought something to eat.

'This whole thing is my fault. Sebastian is going to try anything to break Kurt and I up, my fault. It's my fault that Kurt is probably at home crying right now.'

That thought made my heart hurt. Over the past year, I had seen Kurt upset and crying many times. I don't think I had ever been the actual cause of tears falling from those gorgeous eyes of his. I broke down as I walked outside with a bag of Hot Cheetos and a Pepsi.

"Blaine!" I saw Bailey waving from her Mercedes SUV. I climbed inside, tears streaming down my face.

"Blainers, what's wrong?" She asked as she pulled away from the station.

"Everything." I replied. I immediately spilled everything. I told her about Sebastian, the gay bar, the fight with Kurt. We pulled into the driveway in silence, me still munching on my chips. After a few moments, she spoke.

"It's not your fault." She said.

"It's not?" I asked thickly, mouth full of hot cheesy goodness.

"Blaine, you are 16 years old, you're hormonal and you're a virgin. You mix alcohol with that and what happened was going to happen, gay bar or no gay bar."

"But Sebastian…" I began.

"Is nothing. Blaine, you and Kurt are closer because of this." I looked at Bailey like she was crazy. "Is this the first fight you guys have had?"

"Well no. There was the time last year that I thought that I was bi." I said.

"Let me rephrase: is this your first fight with him as his boyfriend?" She asked. I nodded. Bailey smiled. "When Jeff and I got into that huge fight summer before freshman year, it was awful. But later, after we had made up, we…consummated our relationship." She chose her words carefully, knowing well that I'm still friends with the tall blonde Warbler. Still didn't help the image in my hazy head.

"Didn't need to know that detail, Bails." I said.

"My point, Blaine, is that even though Kurt is mad at you, you're still on his mind. And he's on yours. You see that he's hurting and you want to fix it. Same for him. You guys are going to be ok, swear or my name is Bailey Marie Anderson." She said with a smile.

"When did you get so smart?" I asked.

"It's the price of a private school education. You know, you were a preppy once too."

"You have more experience than I do."

"I get my money's worth. I am my father's daughter after all." I chuckled at that. "Let's go inside. I think Marta has some of her famous hot chocolate waiting for us." suggested Bailey.

Two cups of hot chocolate and a shower later, I was sitting in my bed with my copy of The Three Musketeers in my hand. Bailey had bestowed some final knowledge on me.

"I wouldn't worry about Smythe. He comes from a long line of tools and players. His brother, Nate, was a couple of years ahead of me at Dalton when I first went to Crawford. He must have dated every girl at CC, never got his hands on me though. Jeff would have kicked his ass. Anyway, Nate is married and has three kids now. I think it's a phase they all go through. Unfortunately, Sebastian is gay like the 4th of July and wants you. You just remind yourself that Kurt truly loves you because trust me, the Smythe boys are pretty charming. You'll be fine."

My sister's advice still in my head, I texted Kurt.

To Kurt H: Goodnight. Sweet dreams! And if I don't see you before the show, break a leg Officer Krupke!

I hit Send and tried to turn my focus back to my book.

Ding!

From Kurt H: Goodnight and sweet dreams to you too. I hope you break many legs tomorrow because you are going to kill as Tony.

I smiled to myself.

'We're going to be ok.' I thought.

I hate it when sisters are right.