Oh dear.

I've written this thing...It's about 14,000 words long so I've split it into three chunks. Here's the first. This is an after college New York thing. I'm not selling it very well I know. It's Klaine, but there's Hummelberry friendship, and a tiny bit of Quick and Finchel. It's a lot of fluffy, a lot of angst and some kissing with no smut. I just wrote it all last night when I should have been doing something useful and then it ran away and now I want to post it. So there's two more parts after this. Reviews and favourites and alerts are always appreciated, they make me feel so good.

I think partly the reason I wrote this is because I can't stop thinking about episode five and this is the longest week ever.

The title comes from the song By Your Side by Sade, and I will use some more of those lyrics later on. Also I really don't know New York so it's all guess work and it's meant to be fiction anyway :-)

Ok, here we go. I don't own Glee. This is rated T because there's swearing and drinking and a little bit of violence.

By Your Side – Kurt broke up with Blaine three long years ago, when they couldn't make it work long distance. Kurt thought it was over, until the mail arrived that morning.

Rachel Berry woke up every morning feeling pretty damn pleased with the way her life had turned out thus far. That was mainly due to the fact she woke up every morning in New York city, and whilst admittedly the apartment she shared with her friend was just slightly bigger than a hamster cage, she couldn't care less.

Rachel Berry loved waking up and knowing she wasn't in Ohio. She loved opening the blinds and seeing the city skyline. She loved the fact her wardrobe was bigger than her kitchen, that her fashion sense had finally developed into something resembling 'acceptable.' She loved the cold New York winter and the warm summer, she loved fall in New York and spring too. She loved Starbucks on every corner and the theatre every weekend and parties almost every night. She loved cocktail bars and the gorgeous, intelligent men she met.

She even loved her job as a waitress. Sure, the wages were crappy, but her dads were more than happy to help her with her rent, meaning she could still enjoy cosmopolitans and the occasional designer item from her favourite department store.

Of course it wasn't her dream, but Rachel Berry wasn't worried. Of course she wasn't. She knew how talented she was, and she'd barely been out of college four months. She was auditioning for everything she saw, and she knew one day soon she'd get her break. In the mean time she'd wait tables and daydream about her fame and sing while she served until customers complained, and she'd sleep with beautiful men she met, but only if they bought her a decent dinner first.

Last night hadn't been one of those nights. She'd had a date with Jesse St. James, a man with whom she'd had a crazy and at times difficult romantic entanglement with in high school. Though they hadn't dated since their last time fooling around in her senior year at McKinley (the thing that did indeed put the death stamp on her relationship with Finn – she didn't count the time he'd visited after her graduation from NYADA when they'd had sex in the shoe box sized kitchen- no, she and Finn were so done) they'd both ended up in New York, Jesse acting in various small fry parts in musicals and plays in the New York scene (though they were small fry, Rachel was still jealous) and had become firm friends.

So she'd spent a pleasant, platonic evening with Jesse, and had been home before midnight, which left her waking up at six feeling refreshed and ready for her morning gym session. Rachel had never had a problem with mornings, and being in New York only heightened that fact; she loved everything and everyone around her, she had dreams and she wouldn't be wasting a minute more of her precious life asleep than she needed to.

So, what else to say about Rachel Berry? She may look like a young, New York cliché as she walks briskly back from the gym, hair pulled back from her face in a sleek ponytail, pink hooded top and black leggings, a grande Starbucks skinny hazelnut latte clutched in one hand, her blackberry in the other, but she's not really the person this story is about.

It's the person she lives with, her very best friend in all the world; closer than Jesse or Finn or Quinn (who she became firm friends with the night before McKinley graduation and skypes every night from where Quinn is living in Florida with a law degree, a burgeoning baby bump, a golden retriever and a husband called Noah, but my goodness that's another story) who matters here.

The person she has no secrets from, who she's been living with for the past three years and now four months. The person who she first moved to New York with three years ago, who she went to NYADA with, and who now works as a stage hand at the Gershwin theatre (alright for some, he's bound to catch a break sooner than her.) His name is Kurt Hummel.

She and Kurt had always had a strange relationship. Though they were the same age at school, they largely avoided each other until the whole New Directions thing really started up when they were both in sophomore year. Then they got thrown together, along with Tina, Artie and Mercedes and from that moment for the majority of sophomore year, they rarely (never) got along.

Kurt thought Rachel was a stuck up, annoying, bossy little show off, the only thing going for her being her powerful voice. Rachel thought Kurt was a bitchy, overly sassy, irritating, mean, snide and spiteful person who was trying to make her life miserable, never understanding quite how miserable he, in fact, was himself. It was in their junior year that they actually began to hit it off as friends. Yeah, they still annoyed each other no end, but their rivalry became more fun than actually because they wanted to beat each other. When Kurt was lonely, sometimes Rachel would be the only one at school to notice, and when he was being harassed, Rachel at least attempted to stop it, despite not ever hitting five foot two.

Then there was senior year, where they definitely had their fair share of ups and downs. But they came through it as best friends, ones who teased and bitched and whined at each other ninety percent of the time, but best friends nonetheless.

When they both got accepted into NYADA to study musical theatre, they decided to move into an apartment together. They stayed in that apartment for two years, then spent their final year in an ever so slightly bigger place, the one they still lived in now.

Rachel ran into said apartment that morning after her gym session, having already picked up their pile of mail from the locked box in the lobby. She dropped her keys on the kitchen side and sipped delicately from her coffee as their cat, Patti (it was a coin tossup between Patti and Barba and Kurt won, much to Rachel's chagrin) whined for food.

"Ok, fatty, hang on in there." Rachel laughed distractedly, pouring out some dry food for the Patti, who leaped upon the food the second it was put on the ground, as she shoved the mail on the table next to her keys and leaned against the counter. She glanced at her watch. Near eight am. She walked towards Kurt's closed bedroom door.

"Baby, you up?" She called.

"Yeah, just a minute." He yelled back, and she nodded and headed towards her own room, chucking her finished Starbucks cup into the trash as Patti stretched, having finished her food, and settled on the arm of the beat up leather two seater couch.

Meanwhile, Kurt Hummel stood in front of his bedroom mirror, spraying his hair with product and tucking a very stubborn strand that just wouldn't sit behind his ear. He straightened his scarf (Alexander McQueen, because you can never have too many, and eleven ISN'T too many, regardless of what anyone says) and began shoving his keys and other belongings into his leather shoulder bag.

Once he had everything together, Kurt glanced at his watch. Near half eight, the time he liked to leave ideally to get into work by nine (well, he had to allow time for Starbucks, didn't he?)

He headed out into the main apartment and heard the shower going. He wandered into the kitchen, scratching Patti's head on the way past. He was just about to grab his bag and leave when he spotted the mail, and decided to leaf through it before he headed out. He shoved his bag down and picked up the pile of letters.

Phone bill, water bill, electricity bill, store card bill...Kurt winced at that last one and crossed his fingers, hoping there'd be some overtime for him at work next weekend. He couldn't seem to help himself; when it came to shopping he'd forget he was a very poor student working sixty dollars a day as a stagehand.

But there was one more letter at the bottom of the pile. It was addressed to both him and Rachel, and it felt expensive and thick, their names and address type on in fancy font. He turned it over and tore it open. It felt like an invite, and the posh, thick paper was folded over.

He unfolded it fully and began to read.

When he'd read to the bottom he began to feel vaguely sick. It was like the apartment was caving in on him, everything felt stifling, and he could barely breathe, like all the air was being crushed slowly and painfully out of his lungs, because this could not be happening. He was still staring at the invitation with watering eyes, and he could see his pale hands were trembling.

He didn't know what to think, or how to feel, how one could react to something like this, all he knew was that his heart had just dropped and was now situated somewhere way below the ground floor of this high rise apartment complex. He swallowed and forced back the tears. Why was this such a surprise? Why hadn't he seen this coming? After all it had been years. What did he expect?

"Are you ok, Kurt? You've gone white." Kurt looked up to see Rachel exiting the tiny bathroom space, wrapped in a bathrobe and towel drying her long dark hair, her brow furrowed in concern, biting her lip.

"Mmmm. Fine." Kurt lied, because all he knew was that he couldn't talk about this right now. She would find out, but he felt too humiliated and ashamed at his reaction to talk about. "I need to go." Kurt picked up his bag and rushed away, his whole body shaking uncontrollably, the invite dropping from his hands as he did so.

Rachel continued to frown, barely having time to blink as Kurt exited stage left as it were, as fast as his legs would carry him. Then she noticed the thick piece of paper that had fallen out of his shaking hands on the way out of the apartment. She bent down to pick it up, then read it. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Oh dear." She murmured, running a hand through her still damp hair, as the puzzle in her mind fitted together with horrible accuracy. "Poor Kurt."

Blaine Zachary Anderson

Lucas Samuel Turner

Request your presence at their wedding

On

Saturday the twenty eighth of January, two thousand and fifteen.

At

The Four Seasons Hotel

Reception to follow

R.S.V.P

Kurt only managed a couple of blocks before he had to slip down an alleyway and collapse on to his knees. The alley was filled with overflowing trash cans and the pavement was absolutely filthy, but his legs had given up the ghost, and as he fell to his knees he wretched, expelling the small contents of his stomach behind one of the aforementioned trash cans. He felt disgusting and wiped his mouth with one shaking hand, not even finding it within himself to care about his skinny jeans making contact with the vile mess that was probably on the floor, and the fact that he'd gotten puke on his black pea coat. He leaned against the dirty wall and tried his level best to combat the shakes and the nausea.

He had no right to react like this, he told himself, as he laid his head back, it bumped painfully against the ragged brick work but he barely felt the pain. He could feel a small trickle of liquid work its way down the back of his neck but he barely noticed. He put his fingers there absentmindedly and realised dimly it was blood. He didn't care.

He definitely had no right to react like this, had stopped having the right to react like this the second he'd dumped Blaine just three months after he'd started college, over three years ago.

After several minutes Kurt found the strength to stand up. He rose on shaky feet and stumbled his way back to the apartment building. It had been longer than he though, and thankfully Rachel had left for work while he'd been chucking his guts up in a back alley. Kurt picked up his iphone dully and looked blearily at a text she'd sent him in between the time he'd run out of the apartment and the time he'd arrived back. Kurt. I know this is hard. If you wanna talk I get off for lunch at one. Text me. Love you x

Kurt swallowed and made a quick call to work, telling them he was sick. Since he'd scarcely taken a sick day since he'd worked there, and he sounded so croaky and awful anyway, they believed him and told him to get well soon. Then he shoved his cell phone to the far corner of the room and searched around the kitchen cupboards until he found what he was looking for.

The bottle of vodka. Rachel and Kurt rarely socialised in the apartment, it was far too small, but they kept the bottle there for emergencies, and Kurt was damned sure this was big an emergency as there was ever going to be. He needed to forget everything, his name, Blaine's name, Lucas' name...

Ignoring the fact it was barely ten am, Kurt Hummel poured himself a large straight vodka, then took the bottle, the glass and his ipod out on to their teeny weeny balcony. He sat down and drained the first glass in one gulp, before pouring himself another double measure.

He watched the New York skyline, watched the birds swooping in the cold blue sky, took in the strange beauty of the buildings, and he drank and drank and drank, memories flying around his head like little insects as he let the alcohol take hold of him. Because even though he was drinking to forget, all the vodka did was make him remember every tiny little thing about Blaine, about their relationship. The good things, like dancing with Blaine at prom, the first time they kissed, the way Blaine sung him to sleep at night, holding hands in the coffee shop, sitting in the sun making each other bracelets, and also the bad things. The things that still haunted Kurt to this day.

Flashback 1:

"I don't wanna go." Kurt was panicking as tears cascaded down his cheeks. "I d-don't, Blaine. I'll stay in Ohio. Please don't make me go."

"Kurt, don't be r-ridiculous." Blaine's voice was trembling but he stood his ground. "This is such an incredible opportunity for you. You got into NYADA. You and only nineteen other students. You're...you're going to do amazing things in that city." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "With or without me."

"But I won't be with you." Whispered Kurt, that thought bringing on a fresh round of tears as he clung helplessly to Blaine in the terminal of Lima Allen County Airport. "I can't be without you. I can't. I need you."

"Yes you can. You're so strong. You're...I'm going to miss you so much. But we'll skype every week and text every day." Blaine pulled Kurt further into him and brought up their interlinked hands, kissing Kurt's fingers gently over and over. "I'm not letting this go without a fight. Believe me."

"I'll miss you." Kurt's lip wobbled and his words were trembling. "So much."

"I'll miss you too, baby. You can't comprehend. But you've got Rachel. I've got Tina and Artie. We're gonna be ok, I promise. I'd never break a promise to you, ok. You know that, don't you?" Blaine's voice was fierce and Kurt clung onto that promise.

"I love you so much, Blaine Anderson." He sobbed, squeezing him one last time as Rachel, Burt, Carole and Rachel's dads (who were all taking the flight to New York with them to settle them in) walked over.

"I love you too, Kurt Hummel. Go change the world." Blaine didn't hide the tears that rained down his cheeks as he finally unlinked their hands. Kurt was still sobbing too as he waved one last time to Blaine and then disappeared behind the security screen.

Kurt Hummel cried the entire flight to New York.

Flashback 2:

"I can't do this anymore."

Kurt gripped the phone so hard he was surprised it didn't crumble underneath his fingers. This was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, and he didn't want to do it.

But he had to. He was sick and tired of being miserable when he was supposed to be at his happiest. There was only two options, two ways out of this misery. He had to pick one, and he really had no option when it came down to it.

"Can't do what?" Blaine's voice sounded shaky, and Kurt hated that he was doing this over the phone, but he couldn't fly back and do it, was far too cowardly for that, and he couldn't bear to do it over skype, see the look on Blaine's face when he ended their two year relationship.

"This. Us. We've tried. But I can't be away from you and be with you, Blaine. It hurts so much." Kurt struggled to force back the tears, and the ominous feeling that he was making the biggest mistake of his life. He had to do this. It was the right thing. He'd never been so miserable in his life, and when you're a freshman at college in New York studying something you'd always dreamed of with loads of amazing new friends, living in an admittedly tiny apartment with your best friend, he sort of knew that's not how you should feel. Instead of being out and about with his and Rachel's new friends and enjoying the city he'd always dreamed of, he couldn't help but spend his time sitting in his room missing Blaine so badly it felt like someone was stabbing his heart repeatedly. "Long distance. It's not working out."

"Please, Kurt. Don't do this. I'll fly to New York to see you. I've got some savings, I'll do it tomorrow. I'll do anything. I don't care. I need you." Blaine's voice was desperate and Kurt couldn't bear to listen to it, just wanted to end the call but knew in his heart of hearts that he couldn't do that to Blaine, that he deserved more than that. He deserved more than Kurt, and it was part of the reason he was doing this. He knew Blaine must be feeling as miserable as he was.

"So we can do the emotional goodbye thing all over again? No, Blaine. I can't. We can't. We both deserve more than this shit." Kurt swallowed.

"This shit? That's seriously all you can say about our two year relationship?" Blaine spat, his words melting into anger.

"You know that's not what I mean. I love y-"

"Don't you dare say those words to me, Kurt. Not if you're going to break up with me." Blaine snarled, then his voice softened again. "I need you." The last three words were whispered, and Kurt nearly crumbled.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's over. Goodbye." And with all the willpower he could find, he pressed the end call button. Then he deleted Blaine's number from his phone. He knew some couples who broke up could remain in contact and become great friends, but he also knew he and Blaine weren't one of those couples. They'd always been more intense, more in love, more in tune with each other than any other couple he'd known, and he would never be able to look at Blaine and not want him.

Neither could he deal with this long distance relationship. So it was with a heavy heart that Kurt deleted his number, changed his facebook relationship status, and removed every picture of himself and Blaine he had. He didn't remove them completely of course, he simply put them in a box, with everything else that reminded him of his ex, and shoved them to the back of his wardrobe.

A small piece of Kurt Hummel's heart was boxed in there with them. It would never, ever belong to anyone but Blaine Anderson.

Kurt stumbled upwards, the vodka having gone straight to his head on an empty stomach. The memories were too much but at the same time in some sadistic way he was enjoying reliving them. He never usually let himself remember his time with Blaine because it hurt too much. Had he ever let himself think about the happiest time in his life he would never have been able to move forward.

He walked through the apartment to the wardrobe. Much of his stuff had gone into storage, but that box...he had never been without it, throughout college and when he and Rachel had moved apartments into this slightly bigger one, the box had stayed with him. Of course he hadn't looked in it since November 2011, it was too painful.

Now though, with the vodka numbing his emotions momentarily, he staggered through the apartment and yanked the box down. He felt stifled, even panicky while he was inside so he took the box out to the balcony again, where he sat down and yanked the lid open.

Pain hit him in wave after powerful wave, so strong he was nearly sick again.

He'd forgotten that while memories can comfort, that can only go so far. Then they begin to choke you, when you remember how much you threw away, how much will never be like it was.

Pictures, pictures, pictures. All of him and Blaine.

Him and Blaine sitting in the park, hands locked, the sun behind their heads, Blaine smiling at Kurt, who was staring at the camera. Him and Blaine at a table in a restaurant, Blaine kissing his cheek. Him and Blaine on Kurt's graduation, both smiling happily, Kurt in his cap and gown. Him and Blaine walking along in Lima hand in hand, taken from behind, an artistic snap Quinn took while they were all out on a sun drenched walk one day the summer before Senior year. Him and Blaine messing around with the effects on Blaine's macbook. So many pictures. Then the last picture, one of Blaine that Kurt took just when he'd woken up. His hair was curlier than ever before, sticking out at all angles. He wore a white t shirt that stretched to show his collarbone, his hazel eyes were sleepy but wide with love as he looked at Kurt who held the camera. That picture was taken just two weeks before Kurt went to college.

Kurt closed his eyes and when he opened them tears were dripping down his cheeks. He moved the pictures aside and moved on to the randomly assorted objects in the box. A pair of bright yellow rimmed sunglasses, a grey t shirt, several bracelets, a book called 'One Day' that Blaine had kept trying to persuade Kurt to read, without success. Some sheet music for a song called 'You Are The Moon', and several CD's.

Kurt bit his lip so hard to stop himself crying out that he actually drew blood as he sifted through the CD's and caught sight of the cover of the last one. Katy Perry – Teenage Dream.

Then at the very bottom of the box was a letter. With shaking hands Kurt picked it up and unfolded it.

Dear Kurt,

You're in New York! At college!

I hope you're having a fabulous time and not meeting any tall, blonde, muscular city boys (or at the very least for some crazy reason prefer your short, curly haired boyfriend back home.) As I'm sending this you've only been gone two weeks. It feels a lot longer. I know we're skyping and texting and calling but I thought I'd write you a letter, so you have something nice fall through the letter box in case you're feeling homesick/Blainesick.

I miss you.

I think that's an understatement, but I'll go with it. I miss you so so much, I miss your voice, the way you hold me, I miss you in the choir room, walking down the halls, in the park (I especially miss you in my bedroom..) But seriously, nothing's the same without you. I can sing something in glee that reminds me of how much I love you, but when I look around you're not there. I've been singing a lot of songs for you recently.

But you're having the time of your life in your favourite city in the world, so that makes me feel better when I'm sad. I hope everything's going so amazingly, you really are the best person I've ever met in my life and you deserve every good thing that's going to happen to you. I can't wait for you to change the world, and you will. You're one of a kind, and that's a promise.

I guess you're probably rolling your eyes because I'm such a sap, and now you've got it in writing, on paper that that's exactly what I am. I'm not sorry. Because I love you, love you so much that being apart from you feels so wrong. That's now in writing too. So if anything ever happens...to us, you always have the proof, you'll always have it officially written that I love you so much, and I'll never know anyone as wonderful as you, Kurt.

I'll see you soon. I love you, my special one. Never forget that.

Love always, Blaine xx

By the time Kurt got to the end of the letter his heart was physically aching and he bent over the paper and sobbed until he felt like he would break in two if he cried anymore. Then he put the Katy Perry CD in the CD drive and played Teenage Dream on repeat until he fell into a drunken sleep.

"Kurt? Kurt? Kurt wake up!" Kurt pulled his eyes open and tried to focus his thoughts but fuck his head was throbbing and someone was shaking his shoulder really annoyingly...

"Ok, Rachel I'm awake!" He snapped blearily as he realised it was Rachel. He was trying to find his bearings and was vaguely aware of Teenage Dream still playing on a loop.

I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece...I'm complete.

"What's...have you been drinking, Kurt?" Rachel sniffed and glanced over the living area, where all the bits from the 'Blaine box' were scattered, the three quarters empty bottle of vodka sat and Katy Perry was still warbling her heart out.

"Yes. I've been drinking. I took the day off work and sunk most of a bottle of vodka while crying over the fact Blaine is getting married in a month. So kill me." Kurt sat back and rubbed his aching forehead, as if trying to rub away this knowledge. "If you wanna be a good friend right now I suggest Tylenol and NOT talking about it, or ever referring to him as 'the one that got away.'"

Rachel sighed and returned a minute later with two Tylenol, a glass of water and a cold compress. She switched the CD player off and Kurt made a relieved sort of groan, took the pills, sipped the water and lay back, applying the compress to his forehead. Gradually his early evening hangover began to alleviate slightly.

When Rachel returned a few minutes later she wore sweatpants and a long sleeved t shirt, her hair pulled back. She perched on the sofa next to him. He groaned and without opening his eyes he mumbled "piss off Rachel."

"No. You can't let this drag you down, or I know you. You'll mope for weeks and as much as I love the drama of lost loves I love you more and I don't want to see you miserable over this, Kurt." Rachel sighed, stroking his hair softly.

"Blaine's not a lost love." Kurt tried to argue feebly.

"You loved him, though." Rachel replied softly. "It's natural to feel like this."

"It's not. I dumped him and now I feel so heartbroken and jealous I want to die." Kurt argued back, still not opening his eyes or moving the compress.

"Maybe you should go and see him. I mean...he sent you the invite even though you two never talk anymore. You haven't seen or heard from him in years. Why do you think he sent you the invite?" Rachel continued to stroke Kurt's hair.

"He sent it because he's always been polite. Either that or he wants to rub my face in it." Kurt muttered grumpily, sounding a lot younger than his twenty one years.

"You know Blaine wouldn't do that. If I were you I'd go and see him. Clear the air." Rachel patted Kurt's ruffled hair one further time and then left him to it. He sighed and closed his eyes again. He knew in his heart of hearts the air between him and Blaine had been anything but clear for about six years. He picked up a change of address card Blaine had sent him a couple of years ago, and stared at the New York address until the words went blurry and his eyes began to water.

He remembered when he'd received that, the first contact Blaine had given since the break up. There had been nothing personal about it, just the standard change of address message everyone got. Kurt had been shocked Blaine was in New York, but had never found the courage to visit him.

He had been scared, terrified of seeing Blaine. Seeing if he was hurt, or if he'd moved on, if he'd changed or if he was still the same. Blaine was the one person Kurt knew could break him without having to even say a word.

Of course, he'd made sure he kept vaguely updated with what Blaine was doing with his life from Wes and David who still spoke to him regularly and chatted to Kurt every now and then. He'd discovered over the years that after McKinley graduation Blaine had skipped college to work his way up in the music business, and was currently doing session work for various artists, though David had let slip that several music moguls were interested in Blaine's budding talent. Who could blame them. Blaine had a perfect voice, a wonderful song writing talent and played piano like a dream.

So as distant as Kurt felt he kept from Blaine, he had liked to know what he was doing. But whenever Wes or David or Tina or whoever tried to tell Kurt how Blaine was feeling about the break up or if he missed him he'd cut them off entirely.

He couldn't handle it.

To say Kurt was conflicted over whether or not to visit Blaine was definitely an understatement.