A/N: Okay, first and fucking foremost, thank you for the reviews and the gentle nudges for me to add to this. I love you guysss! Uhm, so, yeah. There are some choice bad words in here, so just sayin'. Fuckity-fuck, ya dig? Also, I think I've decided to use a different song/songs as the theme of each new chapter. I used two in this one, "The Deep End" and "Starless", both by Crossfade.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Crossfade, or any of the other shit about to be name-dropped.

Well, fuck. Acting like a well-adjusted human being hadn't lasted long for Dave Karofsky. He wasn't sure now how he'd managed to stumble through those first few days under the very inaccurate notion that feigning emotional stability meant he really was okay.

However he kept it together, it didn't matter. On day four, he broke down.

Every movie about a mismatched-but-somehow-perfect pair falling hopelessly in love reminded him of how he and Kurt just fit together in a way that felt so fucking right. Every song on the radio was an obvious attempt by some unseen force to kick him while he was so clearly still down. He'd change the station to flee from the clutches of a song about newfound romance, only to stumble upon a song about gut-wrenching heartbreak. Fucking awesome.

The only remotely tolerable music he found to break the silence were a few especially significant songs by Crossfade, which he kept on repeat these days.

Another wasted Saturday so here I stay
Where nothing seems to ever change anyway, hey
All this hype about life being great
But where's the love for me these days
I'm going off the deep end.

He barely ever left his room, save for school, showering, and the occasional hunger grab. He hadn't felt the need, because by his most precise estimation, there was exactly nothing out there for him anymore.

On a rare outing to 7-11 for a slushie and Slim Jim run, Dave's gaze lingered on a police officer who was thoroughly engrossed in making the tough decision between Hustler and Playboy. Dave side-eyed the officer's gun. He contemplated making a blind grab for it, in the hopes that the end result might be a bullet through his face. He decided against it. He'd probably just tase me.

The 'ways-I-could-die' game was a new favorite of Dave's. As a matter of fact, most of the thoughts sloshing around in his mind were pretty damn disturbing lately. Dave shrugged it off. It wasn't like he had anybody to be worried about him, anyway. He'd think whatever twisted shit he wanted until nothing affected him anymore. Besides, it wasn't like he actually wished for death or anything, just that he really didn't give a dirty fuck about living.

It was days like this that he'd wonder what Kurt would think if he saw him now. That's if he could spare some time from his jam-packed schedule of fawning over Blaine to even toss a glance in Dave's direction. As far as he knew, Kurt and Blaine still weren't officially together, but they sure as shit acted like it. It wasn't like Dave cared, he really fucking didn't, but if he did care at all it'd probably kill him to see the two of them walking down the halls every day together, arms interlinked as they babbled enthusiastically about whatever. I mean, hypothetically, if Dave were to have even been paying attention to the occurence of something like that. Three fucking times in the past week. Well, three-and-a-half, if you counted that time their hands just barely brushed against each other. Not that Dave noticed that.

Maybe it was selfish, but Dave wanted nothing more now than to forget that everything with Kurt had ever happened. He didn't want to hate him, or even to hate the near-stranger who had successfully crowded him out of Kurt's life. He just wanted to finally be done with the whole scene. It had been a small eternity, if he was honest, since the first time he recognized that the stirrings he felt in Kurt's presence weren't exactly hatred. The more he admitted to himself, the harder he had fought, until he couldn't anymore. And now that a brand new battle was raging, Dave was just so tired.

I gotta get you out of my veins
I gotta get you out of my blood
I gotta get you out of my scene
I gotta get you out of me.

If Dave had been so inclined, he could've easily taken Kurt's sudden disinterest in him as an opportunity to pine over him from afar like some kind of pathetic tool. But that was definitely not some shit that Dave fucking Karofsky would do. So he certainly wasn't watching when Kurt ran stealthily up behind Finn and jumped onto his back like some kind of ninja. And he definitely hadn't witnessed Kurt's adorable victory dance after having won an impromptu thumb-wrestling match against Mike Chang. And if he happened to be walking past the choir room during a Glee club meeting and his ears had caught the sound of what was unmistakably Kurt's beautifully lilting voice, Dave's stomach didn't flutter and his breath didn't catch in his throat. He was too big and bad to be pressed over Kurt Hummel. And he would repeat that to himself like a trusted mantra, until he finally started to believe it.

How I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to fade now
And how I feel like I'm starless
I'm hopeless and grayed out
Somehow I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to fade now
And now I feel like I'm starless
I'm ready to burn out.