Hi! So, first story in a long time, I know. I'll continue my other stories soon, I promise!

So on with the show

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, except for the story line.


It didn't change anything.

At all.

In reality one could even say that it made things worse, because now there was an acknowledgement, no matter how small, that he knew what he was doing. That he never, not once, thought of how it would affect Blaine.


After moving to New York and working things out with Kurt, Blaine Anderson-Hummel couldn't be any happier. Of course, life – the bitch – decided that Blaine needed something more, and so Mr Michael Anderson entered the picture.

Michael Anderson was a man loved by all who met him. He was charming and kind, respectful and considerate. Of course, if you were a close friend, you also knew that he was an alcoholic with no intentions of ever acknowledging that fact, that every time he drank he became an obnoxious prick but at the end of the day, whoever was his drinking companion for the night (or morning for that matter) just sent him home to his wife and kids.

Now that was the real problem, because even if he never laid a hand on a family member, his harsh words and cold rejection was worse. He would insult his wife, calling her a slut and proclaiming how he hated everything about her, all the while painting himself as the victim of course. And his kids, well, it's no wonder why Cooper fled so far away as fast as he could as soon as possible, as he insulted their intelligence, looks and on very special occasions, claimed that they surely were not his, as no Anderson child could ever be as imbecilic as his two sons.

When Blaine came out as gay, so did Michael's utter prejudice against everything different. He started ignoring his younger son, only remembering his existence when drunk were he would then proceed to insult him in ways that would make even the toughest of men shrink is self-disgust if directed at them.

This went on until Maria Anderson decided that enough was enough, when she realized that she wasn't the only one being affected by her husband's temper. After the divorce, Michael remarried and included both his sons as little as possible while maintaining that he was the victim in all of the mess.

Blaine, always wanting his father's approval, decided to grin and bear it, accepting his father's inconstant invitations to visit when possible and remaining a polite, dapper, young man.

So, when Blaine was finally happily married with the love of his life, working on becoming the best performer ever (and actually succeeding) and talking with his husband about the possibilities of starting a family of their own in the near future, the last thing he expected was a call from his father asking him to meet him for dinner, as he was in New York and – oh so happy that they could meet up now that his favourite son was a big successful performer, just like he always knew he'd be -.

Blaine was hesitant, but with his husband's support decided that nothing Michael could say would ruin his happy glow.

He was wrong.

The evening started off just fine: a nice dinner a few drinks, and surprisingly light, inconsequential chatter. His first mistake was agreeing to continue the evening at his father's hotel bar.

As expected, Michael imbibed more than was healthy or appropriate for the company he was in, and then, well, that's when the bullshit started.

"So Blaine," he slurred slightly, taking a big gulp of his drink – whiskey double, straight – "I always knew that you'd make it big. You are an Anderson, after all. Thank goodness you act more like my side of the family, even if you were cursed with that tramp's looks."

"Excuse me?" Blaine didn't know how to react, if either of his reactions were appropriate for that matter, because by this point in time, he'd realized his mistake, and he wanted to either punch Michael Anderson's face in, or… well that was his only desired reaction actually.

"Yes, of course I knew that even if your mother" he spat the word like it was a curse "influenced you, you'd always know better. Even better than that good for nothing brother of yours! What a shame that you decided to continue with your devious ways, but well, not everyone can be perfect. Waiter! Another, and make it spiffy!"

"You… How DARE you? You were never there for me, you insulted everyone CONSTANTLY, and now you have the gall to come and insult them? Even worse, to drink like the pathetic alcoholic bastard that you are? Who the FUCK gave you the right to treat us so poorly? Did you hate us that much? And even then, why are you insisting in this fucking farce, when it's clear that your opinion of MY LIFE is so poor?"

Blaine, by this time was having trouble breathing evenly, and was seriously regretting the few drinks he'd already had.

"Blaine… I… I'm sorry."

Blaine, not believing that those words had come out of the man's mouth whipped around fast enough to lose his balance from where he was already standing wanting to leave.

"I never thought of how it'd affect you." His dad continued with tears in his eyes. "I was just so tired, because I had to take care of so many things at the same time and, well, I had to look out for myself, you understand right?"

"I can't believe it." Blaine whispered. His father's eyes showed hope at these whispered words, but that was soon remedied when Blaine continued. "I can't believe what an ASSHOLE you actually are! I thought that you'd changed, I HOPED that… that you'd actually apologize, but that's not an apology, you're justifying your actions! Like what? You want my forgiveness? For me to tell you that you're right, that you had to make others suffer as long as YOU WERE LOOKING OUT FOR YOURSELF?"

The look in Michael's eyes was enough of an answer.

"Fuck you. I never even considered how deep your selfishness went, but now I can see that I was wrong in giving you a second chance."

He turned to leave but stopped to give his final say.

"You'll never change, and I never want to see you again. Every time we meet, I only end up feeling like crap for days after, and I don't need that kind of garbage in my life. Have a nice life… Mr Anderson."

With those last words and the image of his father in tears, he turned and left the building, hoping to be home soon so he could finally cry in the arms of the love of his life, his family. This… this was worse than not knowing, because know he understood: in his father's eyes, he was never important enough to protect from harm, even from the man himself.