OUR LOVE'S LIKE A STAR.
CHAPTER 2
You're telling me nobody's there
To dry up the flood
Oh, but that's just crazy.
'Cause baby, I told you.
I'm here for good.
Blaine didn't want to leave Kurt. He really didn't, but life was against him. Life being a mixture of his schooling, his parents and his professors. All of whom wanted him to seize the day, take the opportunity, and worst of all, leave behind the one person who was able to make him truly happy.
Kurt supported him all the way. That day, that faithful day, that Blaine announced that someone offered him a scholarship to an Italian school—everything was beautiful. The joy on Kurt's face, the congratulations whispered into curls and the hugs that were so tight, they could've cut off their blood circulation.
The joy didn't last long.
The choice was snatched away from him. What if Blaine didn't want to leave his life behind for a bunch of snooty Europeans? What if he wanted to stay here—with Kurt—and pursue their dreams together?
His parents would've have any of it. This is what's best for you. Why waste such an honor? You'll learn so much. You'll have a ton of fun. It'll be a wonderful learning experience. You'll love the food. They'll love your talent. They'll teach you things you wouldn't have even dreamed of.
Bullshit.
Not long after that, Blaine was standing in his room, one of his signature patterned shirts on and smooth against his chest. There was silence as Kurt adjusted the bow tie that matched his outfit oh so perfectly, and pain as he looked into the hazel eyes of the boy he loved.
The galaxies in Kurt's eyes have never felt more distant.
Goodbye was never a pleasant word. Whoever made it must have been a fan of irony, because there is absolutely nothing good about goodbye. At least, not in Blaine's eyes. All he wanted was to be able to bring the beautiful boy he met with him, but he couldn't.
What his parents say, goes.
Blaine's feet lands on Italy and for a moment, his sadness leaves him. The country is beautiful and he's more than a little bit lucky to live here, to experience everything. And maybe, just maybe, he could forgive his parents for forcing him to go.
At least, for now.
To compensate for all the lost time, he calls Kurt. Whenever he gets his hands on a phone that's capable of calling overseas, he calls Kurt. At first, the conversations are light-hearted and sweet, just like they're going out every morning and chatting over coffee.
But that was before school started.
One day, Blaine gets a call in the middle of class and his ringtone is loud and annoying. His professors stares him down as he pulls out his cell phone and silences it, ignoring the tug at his heart when he sees the name on the caller ID. Kurt.
And Blaine's so guilty for the rest of the class that he almost passes out as he's finishing his first assignment because this has to be perfect and he has to have good grades because he's there and he has to be away for Kurt so why not make the most out of it?
When he falls asleep, his phone is buried deep inside his bag and he's snoring really loud and his roommate walks in at two in the morning to a mess and a passed out curly haired boy at his desk.
Every weekend, his parents visit his dorm, because his school is twenty minutes away and they don't have to work as much because of their relatives there who are willing to support them while they settle into the new country and Blaine can't help wonder why they're settling in.
But wait, why do they have jobs?
Blaine asks them why they decided to come with him and why they're working and why they have to settle in and then it sinks in.
They're not going back.
Mr. and Mrs. Anderson did not arrive on the same plane as their son, and therefore he wouldn't have seen the boxes that came with them or the huge bill they needed for the extra luggage and they needed the extra luggage because they didn't just bring enough clothes for a holiday.
They brought everything, and they had a place to stay and a way to earn the support their son and suddenly their encouragement for Blaine to take this great opportunity made all the sense in the world but he still needed an explanation.
He yelled at his parents that night. Blaine yelled and argued and screamed at his parents who had never thought about what he wanted and always decided on what was best for him even though they didn't know squat about him or his life or what he wants.
And right now, what he wants is Kurt.
When his father puts his foot down and threatens to actually hurt Blaine like those bullies did to him all those years ago, he stops talking. The voice that comes out of his mouth doesn't sound like his at all. It's slow and low and calm yet nervous, all at once.
"Tell me why."
And his mother comes and tries to hug him but he flinches and she wonders where she went wrong when really, she knew all along.
Mr. Anderson's angry sigh comes out a lot harsher than he had hoped and when he finally says what motivated him, it crack's Blaine's heart in two and makes him want to crash out of that window and into the busy foreign street.
"We didn't want you with that boy."
His tone is hostile and almost disgusted that it sends Blaine into a frenzy that almost ends in him punching his father in the jaw for the pure disrespect he just gave Kurt. His Kurt, who is a wonderful and amazing and absolutely perfect in every way imaginable that he doesn't deserve to be called "that boy" by someone as despicable as Blaine's father.
And when Mr. Anderson finally draws the line, he takes Blaine's phone and storms out, his mother trailing slowly behind them.
"We expect flawless grades this semester." He hears through the door, and he just loses it.
Blaine crumpled onto the floor because this—this thing that was supposed to be happy and a wonderful thing for him. It was all for the benefit of his parents. They didn't care if he was sent to Australia or London or even China—just as long as he was away from "that boy."
His father's voice rang in his ears—assumptions and speculations about everything that had happen since that day he introduced his beloved and oh so beautiful boyfriend to his closed-minded parents.
What if he never saw Kurt again? True, he was eighteen and he could just leave—get on a plane and leave his parents for good, but where'd he get the money? He couldn't pull it out of his ass. His parents gave him enough to live by, and that was it.
Blaine needed to think of a plan, but for now, all he could do was curse himself for not memorizing Kurt's phone number when he had the chance.
The next day, Blaine buried himself in his studies, trying to find a way to get on his parent's good side. Maybe his father will give him back his phone. Maybe his mother would sneak him Kurt's number. He knew that she wasn't heartless.
Weeks filled with papers, tests, recitations, and presentations, Blaine didn't even think about going online. He spent most of his time on the library and not on Facebook that he almost forgot he had one.
He couldn't anger his parents more. He couldn't. Blaine ignored the heartache and the fact that he knew, he just knew that Kurt would be worried, mad even. But Blaine couldn't think about that. He couldn't. He couldn't afford to, not with his parents almost breathing down his back.
During a bit of free time he had, he went online, fully intending to send Kurt a long ass message apologizing for his absence and lack of calls, but when he tried to log on, it gave back an error.
How had they known his password?
This was screwed up, Blaine thought, as he ran back to his dorm room, his feet hitting the ground with as much force as he could manage, which was a lot, considering how small he was.
The door slammed, almost making the room shake. Thank god Blaine's roommate wasn't there. The last thing he wanted was some random Italian guy watching him cry.
His pillow muffled most of his scream, but that didn't help. He needed a clearing, somewhere no one would hear him. Somewhere…no one would judge him for being this helpless.
Blaine didn't notice the note taped to his desk.
So he was right. She wasn't heartless.
It was written in the loopy and smooth script Blaine had seen for years. That handwriting had told him about her hectic work life, her busy schedule and how she wouldn't be able to make it for dinner.
And there is was.
"I'm so sorry."
Any other time, Blaine would've crumpled up the note and thrown it all the wall with full force. Thinking that she was several years too late. How much of coward she was for not standing up for her baby boy. How much he hated her.
But right under her written apology was Kurt's phone number. Straight from his cell phone.
Before it registered in his mind, Blaine was running out the door, up the stairs and down the hall, to the only person he really knew. This nice young girl named Amelia who had looked at Blaine with shy eyes the first time they met, only to realize that he didn't swing that way. She held no grudges. They were friendly.
Blaine didn't have anyone else.
He rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, positive that he would have woken up the whole floor had he been any louder, but he didn't care. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was six in the morning.
When had he fallen asleep?
The blonde girl groggily opened the door, and in her sleepy voice, demanded to know what Blaine was doing at this hour.
Blaine begged to borrow her cell phone, saying it was important, because it was. Amelia heard the desperation in his voice, and handed over her phone, no less confused. He quickly dialled the number and held the phone to his ear. He needed Kurt's voice. Blaine needed to tell him he was okay and that he was sorry.
How long had it been?
Weeks.
The dread settled into his heart. Kurt's probably angry. Kurt's definitely angry. Before he knew it, tears were falling down his face as he heard rigging on the other line.
Amelia closed the door, thinking that maybe he needed privacy, leaving him alone in the hallway.
"Please pick up."
A/N: midterms. yeah. i realize this is probably full of inconsistencies again but i will reiterate that i write all of this from the top of my head and for fun, so if there are any errors, i'm sorry. and if you see anything wrong, feel free to message me. all the love to you xo.