Blaine Anderson took a jog around the Boston Public Gardens everyday. The feeling of a slight city breeze rushing over his face and through his dark brown curls gave him a reason to be happy. His love for running was his escape from the daily grind of life. Some people self medicated by drinking, others overdosed on medicine cabinet drugs. Blaine ran.
It had been a year since he had graduated from Emerson College with a degree in Performing Arts, and Blaine was content living in one of the best college cities in the country. Everything was much more upbeat in Boston than it was back in Ohio. Not to mention there was so much more tolerance here. He saw gay and lesbian couples holding hands and kissing practically on every corner.
However, Blaine wasn't as lucky as the rest of his gay peers when it came to dating. While his gay roommate in his decent apartment had his boyfriend over practically every day to make out on the couch while joking about their lives being like Brokeback Mountain, Blaine sat in his bedroom and strummed his guitar. Alone. Though Blaine enjoyed the general Boston lifestyle, he felt like he was missing out on something; he felt like something was missing from him.
It had a couple years since he and Kurt had cut their ties. It was getting too difficult for them to handle a long distance relationship. After high school, Kurt ended up going to Parsons to study fashion design, but then dropped out after his freshman year when he started landing huge roles on Broadway. Though the distance between Boston and New York was about four hours, it was too far for them to see each other often, and with Kurt's busy acting schedule, it made things even harder.
On this particular day, Blaine was on a run longer than he usually took. He didn't have to go into work for the day, and his roommate had kicked him out of the apartment for a while so he and his partner could have some alone time. Blaine wanted to just lose himself in the steps he pounded into the dirt path in the park. He always went out in the morning at around 6 so he could get the park at a time when hardly anyone was there. Plus, the morning air had a light crispness that he always enjoyed. Though it was hard to get clean fresh air within the city, it felt good to be able to be out in open rather than cramped into the even more smog ridden busy streets and sidewalks.
At one point during his run, he felt something vibrate within one of the pockets of his athletic shorts. He gradually slowed down to a walking pace, then dug into the deep pocket and plucked out his phone. An unknown caller popped up on the screen. He shrugged and decided he should answer it, just incase it was a business call that needed to be addressed immediately, though he did question why he was getting a call at 6:28 in the morning. He finally stopped in place over to the side of the dirt path and put the phone up to his ear and answered.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Anderson?" a middle aged woman replied. "This is a nurse at the Massachusetts General Hospital calling in regards to a friend of yours that has been severely injured. He said you were the only person in the city he knows and could possibly come for support." Blaine's eyes almost popped out of their head in shock at the news of this call.
"Oh my gosh, are they ok? How hurt are they? What happened? Who is it?" A million things were running through his head a once. Was it his roommate? No, couldn't have been, he was with his boyfriend. This woman said he was the only person in the city they knew. Any of his college friends? A couple of them were into dealing drugs and didn't have many friends, maybe they got in a gang fight? So many questions raced through his brain within the between his verbal questions for the nurse and her reply.
"A man by the name of Kurt Hummel. He was visiting the city for the week and was struck by a car in a hit-and-run about three hours ago. He says you're the closest thing he has to family in this city. We're going to need you to come down and help him with a few things, alright?"
Blaine's jaw hung loose in complete shock. He hadn't heard that name in a couple years. He had tried countless times to push that name out of his head and move on with his life. Now, here he was, being forced into a situation where he had to help the man who had once loved him, then left his life without a trace. There was a pause that lasted a few awkward seconds. Finally, Blaine cleared his throat and spoke again to the nurse.
"Um, sure. I mean, I can come and see him." He tried to force himself to sound pleasant enough so the nurse wouldn't know that he was hesitant to visit his ex-boyfriend.
"Alright, honey. His room is 415, I'll help you find his room whenever you get here." Blaine nodded, and thanked the woman for informing him, and then snapped his phone shut.
He looked down at his watch. Three hours ago this happened. It was currently 6:30, which means it would have been a little past 3 a.m. at the time of the accident. Blaine wondered why Kurt would ever be roaming the streets of Boston at that time of night unless he was drunk. From what he remembered of Kurt, even when he was at the legal drinking age, he would never drink enough to make him incoherent of his decisions.
He let out a heavy sigh and leaned over, holding his face in his hands as a wave of stress washed over his body. What was he going to do when he saw his ex-boyfriend, lying in a heap of broken bones, swelling, and bruises after all these years?