Karofsky noted that for the first time since second grade, he was feeling really shy, uncomfortable, scared. He held two pieces of printed computer lyrics in his hand, folded twice, his sweat causing the creases to mash up a bit.

He was standing outside, behind the statue from the day before, waiting for Glee to let out. He heard them singing a song he'd heard on the radio, that one by One Republic that he liked because of the cello and violin. Not that he'd say that to anyone. It was Finn singing, he could tell, and then, at the chorus, he heard Kurt pick it up, his voice high and angelic, strung along by the piano and the after school band.

The song ended, and he heard Mr. Schuester tell the kids to have a good weekend. Dave Karofsky pulled himself as far behind the artwork as he could, trying to blend in, and when he was wearing his jersey, it wasn't so hard. He watched everyone file out and saw Mr. Schue turn around and say "be sure to hit the lights on your way out, Kurt."

"Okay, thanks." Mr. Schue was gone then, and could it be so easy that Kurt was by himself? Karofsky slid over to the far door and peered in to see Kurt standing, facing away from him, arms to the side, breathing deeply through his nose. He didn't know what was going on, but he stayed outside, quiet, looking around the hall for any stray eyes that may come across him playing the voyeur.

Kurt began to sing:

"Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind
Wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards
One blow from caving in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep
Six feet under scream
But no one seems to hear a thing…"

Karofsky loved to listen to him, his voice so elegant and charming and beautiful. He couldn't believe he ever let himself hurt him.

Kurt kept singing, and when his song came to an end, his arms dropped to his sides while he did his deep breathing once again.

It was now or never. Karofsky opened the door, which squeaked slightly and gave away his position, causing him to flinch slightly. He looked up and saw Kurt looking at him, startled at his sudden appearance, perhaps worried by being alone with the taller boy.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, a hint of sass and a pinch of fear lacing his words together.

Put in the spotlight, Karofsky suddenly realized that this wasn't his safe, comfortable Solitary. He was standing in front of the boy he loved, but who couldn't stand him. Quite rightly, he knew, but he had to try.

"I…"

"Come on, spit it out, Karofsky, I haven't all day."

He felt his ears and cheeks getting red. He wouldn't lose it. "Can you just stop it?"

Kurt, obviously surprised to hear the taller man say that, didn't respond.

Karofsky cleared his throat. "I… want to… sing you a song."

Kurt stood, shocked, and then laughed harshly. "You want to sing me a song? Really now. Not only can you crush a walnut with your Neanderthal skull, but you can sing, too?"

"I took voice lessons in middle school, why do you have to be so judgmental?

"Oh, I'm the judgmental one! I don't ever throw you into walls for being a behemoth and a moron or for being a prejudiced and sweaty nobody, and you think I care about what you do?"

"Can you just shut up for a second!" he tried to reason, but he was ready to give up. He turned tail and pushed his way out of the choir room and ran to his car. He dropped the folded papers somewhere, but really didn't care anymore. As the engine roared to life, he fought the tears that plagued him and drove home alone, alone.