Chapter 7

"You ok? You haven't eaten enough to keep a bird alive, Kurt," Burt scolded him.

"I'm fine," Kurt smiled, although it was obvious it was forced and Burt and Carole both knew it. Kurt had come home days earlier and they were both immediately aware that something wasn't right. With Christmas in two days, though, they didn't want to push and strain their new living arrangements.

"Well, you're not fine, that's obvious, but I don't wanna push you into tellin' your ol' man anything you don't wanna tell me," Burt said. "I have to wonder how that new friend of yours might be involved. You were fine when we talked earlier but—"

"Dad, please don't—"

"I can give you two some time to—" Carole began.

"No…no, Carole, it's fine. I'm healthy and I'm home in one piece. I'm just missing…things. It's a big change. And I need to just get myself situated here and get used to everything. You've both been great."

"Kurt…"

"Thank you for worrying about me, Carole. I'll try to cheer up some. And thank you for waiting on me to decorate the tree. We can do that this evening if you'd like?" Kurt offered, trying his best to lift his own spirits. Carole nodded, giving her own half smile.

"Oh, and I spoke with Mr. Edwards at the cleaners and he said your tux will be ready in the morning. He remembered you fondly from when you used to work there in high school and sends his best," Carole told him.

"He was always a nice man. He wasn't too thrilled when Chandler would show up, though. He said I didn't need the distraction," Kurt laughed.

"He was good to you…always gave you days off when you needed 'em for glee club, though," Burt commented.

"That he did…"

"So this party tomorrow night…" Burt began. "Who gives a party on Christmas Eve, and it's not even family, Kurt?"

"I'm sorry that I have to go, but I promised Isabelle. I was going to be in town and she wants to 'make an appearance' even if it's not her making the appearance," Kurt explained.

"It's not even like you still work there, though!" Burt argued. Kurt deflated once again, his shoulders slumping and his eyes falling shut.

"I needed the reminder, Dad, thank you. I'll be back in a few. I have some calls I have to make first," Kurt said, standing and taking his plate to the sink in the kitchen.

"Burt!" Carole hissed at him. "He's given up his whole life to come home and help out and the very least you can do is let him have this party if he wants to go! It's not as if we have plans and he'll have all day on Christmas with us!"

Burt nodded, duly chastised, and huffed out a deep breath. "Just ain't right, though. Christmas Eve is for family…" he argued.

Upstairs, Kurt called Isabelle to let her know he'd gotten home ok. He'd texted her the night he arrived in Lima safely, but he couldn't bring himself to answer calls or texts, knowing she'd have plenty of questions about Blaine…and he didn't want to go there.

"Well, it's about time. I pictured you dead on the side of the road, frozen into a Kurt-sicle, which, because it's you, would be absolutely fabulous, mind you, but still, Kurt. You left over a week ago and you're just now –"

"Shut it, I've endured way too much in the past ten days to hear your lecture as well as the countless ones I've given myself because I'm a miserable wretch, so if you don't mind, Isabelle…" Kurt replied, but the bite was gone from his scolding.

"Kurt? Ok, honey, what's up? You ok?"

And with that, he broke.

"No…no, I'm not ok. I was stupid and scared and a coward and I told him no. I told him I didn't want to keep in touch and I feel so damn dumb. What was I thinking, Isabelle? What is wrong with me? Why do I let every good thing in my life walk out the door?" Kurt railed.

"Oh, honey…tell me what happened. Don't skip a single detail…not a single one, you hear me?"

So he did. He told her everything that happened between pancakes at the diner and slushy goodbyes in the Kroger parking lot in St. Mary's. He told her about the gloves and the ham, about the rest stop and the shaggy man he'd all but coerced into his vehicle. He told her about the driving wind and snow and the shoddy motel room he'd shared with a beautiful man he barely knew, but desperately wanted to. He told her all about their long conversations, about their shared love of the same music, about the fire in Blaine's eyes when he talked about certain songs. He told her about the travelers Blaine cajoled Kurt into pulling over to help if they could and how they'd left them with water and fruit if they wanted it. He told her about Blaine's smile, his eyes, his heart that was so full, yet seemed so tormented by things he hadn't said, but surely felt. He told her about Sherry and the detour that took them to the old, white Victorian on a back road somewhere in rural Ohio. And with a heavy heart, he told her how he'd desperately fallen into Blaine's arms and all but begged the man to touch him…and how beautiful and loving it had been when he did. With desperate tears, he told her how he'd refused Blaine's offer to keep in touch and said goodbye to him in the parking lot of a grocery store he'd surely have to visit a dozen times in the next six months, and how he hated himself for it, or he would, eventually.

"Oh, Kurt…honey…I…I don't know what to say. Love, you can't berate yourself for doing what you thought was right, you know this, don't you?" Isabelle asked him.

"I want him back. I don't care what I have to do, or how far away he is, I just want him back in any way I can have him. If it's a phone call once a year, eight days before Christmas as a 'remember when', then that's what I want. I just…what the hell was I thinking? I ache, Isabelle. I ache all over and my heart hurts," Kurt all but whined. Isabelle could hear the pain in his voice and it hurt her to hear him that way. "I have so many things I want to say to him, things I should have said before he got out of my car, and I was a coward. I should have told him how special he was to me, how much I felt for him by just being around him. I should have told him the feel of his hair in my fingers was better than any silk Versace ever sent us. I should have admitted that his smile made my knees weak. I could have told him how his laugh made me smile and begged him to stay and keep laughing with me. I should have held on to him and never let him go. What could he have to go home to that would be better than a man who loves him unconditionally, no matter how much he has or doesn't have? I'm just an idiot, Isabelle…and I really, really hate myself right now," Kurt ranted. Isabelle sat in shock for a moment.

"A man who loves him, hmmm?" she said softly, hearing Kurt's surprise at her words, then the recognition that she had parroted his own words back at him. He'd said that. He'd said that he loved Blaine. Can that happen? Can you love someone in three days?

"I…I feel so much…" Kurt stuttered out, unsure what he should admit, knowing he'd already said a lot.

"You can't hate yourself, Kurt. That's not helping or solving anything. Let's focus on how you can find him, shall we? Tell me what you know. I mean, besides the fact that his name is Blaine and he currently lives in New York City…but travels home, once every blue moon, to Ohio."

"He sings…he plays music. It's beautiful, his voice is like…it's like angels singing and I could just listen to him every day, all day long. I don't know where…it could be random coffee houses for all I know. I just know that music is his passion and he plays guitar like he's born to do that. I know that he has a friend named Santana who is a business partner of sorts, but more of a friend and confidante, I think. He has her in his phone as "Satan"…" Kurt laughed, sniffing because his nose was running now from his sobbing on Isabelle's "shoulder".

"Kurt! You ready?" Burt yelled from downstairs.

"In a minute, Dad!" Kurt yelled back from his boyhood bedroom.

"Honey, you go and do what you need to do with your family and let me see what I can do from here, ok? If you're not up for the party, then don't go. I don't want to push you into something you're not comfortable with, especially when you have so much on your mind now…and especially with our 'very special client'," she chuckled.

"No…I'll go. I don't especially want to, knowing that ego-maniac C.J. Anderson is hosting, but I know it's good for Vogue if I'm there, and I said I would be so I'll go."

"But C.J. loves you, Kurt. He always requested that you be on the shoot because you always made him look like a million bucks. Remember the scarf incident?" she laughed.

"Oh God, how could I forget…Lord, that was a day, wasn't it?"

"It was…it was. But you saved the day and C.J. said he'll owe you forever, remember…" she giggled.

"Ok, ok…I'll report back to you Sunday afternoon or evening if you'd prefer. Are you heading to your mom and dad's for Christmas?" Kurt asked.

"I am…Christmas morning. I'm taking Daniel…" she said, trailing off, uncertain how that'd be received.

"SHUT UP! You are not!" Kurt said, surprise coloring his words. "Seriously? You're not yanking my chain, are you?"

"I'm not yanking your chain, no. He, uh…we've been talking…we had a long discussion about us and what we want from each other, actually. I think it's a good thing…and it could be the thing," she giggled.

"I hope so…I'm happy for you," Kurt grinned, hoping Isabelle could tell that he was sincere. They'd had numerous conversations about 'Daniel' and whether he was worthy of Kurt's best girl. He was happy to hear they'd talked and perhaps ironed some things out.

"Go do your thing, Kurt, and let me know how the party goes, ok? If you want to talk, call me back tonight. I'll be here all night going over paperwork for the end of the quarter, so I'll welcome the distraction. Oh, I have a another call coming in anyway, babe.

"I'm gonna go do the decorating thing. I'll talk to you soon."

"I love you, Kurt. Don't you let this get you down. If you want to find him, we'll find him. I know we can do this."

"I'm not so sure, but a man can hope," Kurt said, but he didn't feel very hopeful at all.

"I'm so glad I got it on film, because seriously, Blaine, that shit was classic…" Cooper teased as he watched the video of Blaine's meeting with his mother again. He'd only watched it 37 times already and Blaine couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I knew better. She didn't waste any time with the appointment, did she?" Blaine asked.

"You expected anything else? She's happy to see you, though…you know, now that she can actually see you…your face…with all that damn hair gone. Honestly, Blaine, you made Grizzly Adams look like a runway model for God's sake. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about hiding, really, if you must know," Blaine said quietly, spooning up a mouthful of oatmeal and staring into his bowl. "I just wanna let go for a while, you know? I don't wanna get up and shave and primp and all that. Is that too much to ask?"

"B, you're a freakin' superstar. Your name, on any album, is a guaranteed chart topper. You write for the biggest names in music. You produce albums that win Grammy awards. At twenty-seven, you have multi-platinum artists banging down your door wanting to work with you –"

"And yet you're asking me what, exactly, I have to hide from," Blaine deadpanned, gracing his brother with the mother of all disgusted eye rolls. "The minute that article hit with me clearly in the background of the photo with all of those big names, I knew I was doomed. I don't want the notoriety, Coop. I want the background and the shadows, just not the notoriety. That's why my contracts with any artist I work with are all about Devon and nothing about Blaine. I don't want to be noticed, bro. I like my nice, quiet, peaceful life, and since that article, I've been feeling like I'm on display in New York. People come up to me and ask me if I know this or that artist, if we hang out, where I'm going and who's going to be there – even when I'm walking down the street to the damn deli, Coop! Who'd have thought it, ya know? Even though I'm in shadow, it's still me…and it names me...and you know how I feel about it. I shouldn't have gone to the damn party and I knew that, but San said it was important that I go…I wrote the song, after all…" Blaine sighed. "I knew better, so it's my fault, I'm just irritated."

"I can see that," Cooper said, and his tone, for once, wasn't harassing. "But it was one article in one magazine, B."

"I'm done with it, Coop. I'm done with writing for other people, making them famous, you know? I want to write, I want to sing and play my own music. I want to make my own album. I don't even want or need to be famous, I'm just tired of having to meet deadlines for other people. I want to work for me…period. I want to settle down somewhere and just…be. I'm twenty-seven years old and I'm sick to damn death of being at the beck and call of every musical Tom, Dick and Harry who comes along. It's draining, Coop…seriously. I want my life back, man!"

"Shit, B…where'd all that come from?" Cooper asked, eyes wide after Blaine's tirade.

"I've had a lot of time to think, I guess. All the way home I had nothing but time to think about all of it."

"You didn't talk to the dude you rode home with?" Cooper snarked, sarcasm thick and annoying.

"Of course I did, asshole. We talked a lot, actually. In fact, it was spending time with him that made me see a lot of what I'm missing out on. It was nice to actually have a conversation with someone, for the first time in a long, long time, that had nothing to do with 'me' and 'music' in the same sentence. He had absolutely no idea who I was, yet he was interested in me."

"Even looking like Sasquatch's lesser known kid brother? Because damn, B –"

"Fuck off. He couldn't have cared less if I had a dime, Coop, in fact I'm fairly certain he still thinks I'm some homeless guy who plays music for money, probably on street corners or something. Do you know how nice it was to be Blaine again and not Devon Anders for a change? It's fucking exhausting, man!"

"I'll thank you to watch your language in my kitchen, Blaine Devon," his mother scolded him as she came strolling in, head held high and heels clicking on the tile floor.

"Sorry, mom," he said softly, digging back into his oatmeal.

"Must've been some amazing guy if three days with him brought all this out," Cooper remarked.

"Guy? What guy?" Mary Beth Anderson whipped around and asked, eyes wide. "Have you…have you met a young man, Blaine?" she said, curiosity in her tone, but no animosity. Blaine wasn't sure how to take that.

"I…he uh…he drove me home…from New York."

"He did, then? Well, that was certainly kind of him. A friend you made in the city?" She asked.

"Sort of," Blaine smirked, knowing his mother would have a coronary if she knew he'd hitched a ride home.

"Santana has been home for days. I've never understood why the two of you never fly together," Mary Beth remarked, oblivious. Cooper gaped and before Blaine could stop him he blurted out a scathing reply.

"For Christ's sake, Mom, Blaine hasn't been on a plane, or even in an airport, since Grandpa almost killed 'em both! Are you daft!? Blaine drove home with…some guy. He doesn't fly, woman!"

"Cooper James," Mr. Anderson scolded him as he strolled in behind his wife, "if I hear you speak to your Mother in such a way again I'll tan your hide, you mark my words! I don't care how old you are, or if you're four inches taller than me, young man. I'll turn you over my knee so fast –"

"Jesus…." Blaine groaned, shoving his bowl away as he did so and letting his head bang onto the table.

"Don't act like you didn't miss the craziness, B," Cooper teased him, his giddy grin plastered on his face. He was the picture of happiness and it made Blaine want to strangle him.

"I remember why I used to pretend I didn't know you people," Blaine groused.

"Yes, well, I barely recognized you when you walked in the door. Thank the heavenly Father that Melanie had an opening…" Mary Beth said as she poured herself a mug of coffee.

"She didn't have an 'opening', Mother. You bullied the woman into opening her already closed salon to give Blaine a shave and a haircut. Let's not sugar coat it," Cooper remarked, looking down his nose at his Mom. "But I have to say, Blainers, you're looking damn fine. If your new friend could see you now, he might not think you're homeless, and how would that sit?"

"So this friend who drove you home doesn't know…who you are?" Blaine's mother asked, eyes wide and uncertain. "How can he be a friend and not know?"

"We've only recently just met, Mom. I don't name drop…it's embarrassing. It's the reason I work under a pseudonym and not my real name to begin with. I wanted him to see me for who I am, not what I am or how much I'm worth. It was nice to have someone around who wasn't jaded…he had absolutely no expectations and it was…amazing, really."

"Amazing…" Cooper said, mimicking Blaine's words and tone, giving him moony eyes. "Tell me about this 'amazing' man you met on the way home, Blaine."

"He was nice, Coop…down to earth, friendly, generous. The morning we met in the diner, he had to have thought I was homeless and without a second though he bought me breakfast. He's just…like that. We encountered lots of people stranded off the side of the road on our drive home and he stopped to see if people needed to use the phone or if they wanted us to call for help. He'd leave them with water and food. He's just…he's a good soul, and I was lucky to run across him, really."

"Well, well, well, don't you sound smitten, Mr. Big Stuff?" Cooper grinned and batted his eyelashes.

"Wait, Blaine, are you saying you've only just met this man three days ago and you drove for days in a vehicle with him!?" Mary Beth blurted, horrified.

"I did. I'm a grown man, Mom. If I want to hitch a ride home, I'll do so. It's exciting. I get to see the land around me instead of flying over it. I get to meet new people and have experiences I may have not had otherwise. Meeting Kurt…well, that, to me, proves that I made the right decision this time."

"Kurt? Houston, we have a name!" Cooper crowed. Blaine threw his spoon at him.

"Asshat. Screw off," he said without heat.

"Blaine!"

"Mom…with all due respect, I'm a grown ass man, and if I want to tell my ass-hat brother to screw off, I'm gonna do that. I can go do that from a hotel, though, if you want me to," Blaine asked, his tone showing that he was done being treated like a child. He still wasn't at all certain where he stood with her, and he wasn't going to change who he was, or his relationship with his brother, bizarre as it was, just because she wasn't accustomed to his verbiage.

"Still sound smitten…" Cooper teased, then ducked to avoid the wadded up linen napkin as it flew at his face.

"He's a beautiful soul and he was gracious enough to share his time and his vehicle with me –"

"And, if we're being thorough, he shared a motel room and an old farmhouse, too –"

"What?!" Mary Beth blurted, scandalized.

"THERE WAS SNOW, MOM! He wasn't exactly going to leave me to freeze my butt off in the car or outside overnight! They only had one room!"

"But Blaine! He could have been an axe murderer!"

"For the love of all that's holy," Blaine hissed, eyes falling shut as he shook his head. "I'm gonna kick your ass from here to Dalton, C.J. Anderson!" Blaine bellowed, using the name his brother modeled under. He stood from his chair in the Anderson breakfast nook and leaned over the table into his brother's face. "When you least expect it, I'll be there," Blaine threatened as Cooper shook with laughter. He couldn't have possibly just kept his mouth shut. Nope. Not C.J. With a deep breath, Blaine began again.

"He offered me a ride with him when he saw me at the rest area. It was snowing like crazy and most of the trucks didn't dare get off the highway for fear that they wouldn't get back on safely. I could have been standing there all day waiting for a ride, but he was kind enough to offer and I accepted. He's not an axe murderer. He worked for a magazine in New York with some pretty big people. But he's moving back home because his dad needs his help to get his business back up and running as it used to before he got sick. He left his life behind in New York City to come home for his family. Axe murderers don't generally do that, I'm sure. He didn't ask me for a dime, paid for my food and lodging as if it was a matter of course. He was very uncertain about our sleeping arrangements, but gracious nonetheless and worried for my comfort and well-being. Yes, we slept in the same bed. Yes, he was a perfect gentleman," Blaine lied, but without remorse. That was none of their business. "And yes, at the end of our journey, he said goodbye and went home to his family…and yes, I miss him more than I thought I would. He was someone I instantly took a liking to, someone I felt comfortable with, someone I was able to talk to without holding much of anything back, and someone who accepted me as I was and wanted nothing more. He's someone I absolutely hate myself for letting go of without more of a fight…and now he's gone. Are you happy now, Cooper? Mom? Do you have all the details you needed? Kurt Hummel was an amazing traveling companion and then he walked out of my life without a word," Blaine said, then stood and made his way out of the kitchen with a frown.

"Huh…well, who'd have thought? I do, indeed, have all the details I need, B…" Cooper murmured under his breath.

"Well…" Mary Beth said, surprised and a bit shaken up. She hadn't expected that. "Cooper…I think Blaine may have…he may have been fond of that man. Do you think so?"

"Mother…" he said with a sigh, "Of course he is! That's painfully obvious, isn't it? But I don't think harassing him is the way to go," Cooper said, sauntering out the door without another word.

"Darling, have I said something wrong?" Mary Beth asked her husband.

He weighed his words carefully, then answered. "Honey…you haven't seen Blaine for the better part of ten years. He walked in the door and the very first thing you did was attack his appearance!"

"I didn't recognize my own son, Phillip! He looked like a vagrant, for goodness sake! I've never seen such a thing!"

"And…" Phillip went on, as if she'd never interrupted him. "Without a word, he did as you asked and went to the salon where you dictated his hair cut and shave, leaving his face as smooth as a baby's ass and his hair the way he wore it in high school. He hasn't complained one bit, mind you. Then you jump on him about his language, then his means of travel, then his traveling companion. Now you tell me…have you said something wrong?"

"Oh…Oh, Phillip, I'm just not any good at this, am I? I'm…maybe I'm a bit out of practice," she lamented.

"Maybe you should just love him. Don't try to change him, darling. He's a grown man. He's home because we asked him to come here. Imagine how hard it was for him to make the decision to come here, considering how long it's been since he had any kind of relationship with his own mother. Have you told him you're happy to see him? Have you taken the time to speak to just Blaine at all? You're not bad at this…you're out of practice, yes, but you're just…you need to focus on the good and not the bad. Be glad that he's here at all. I, for one, am thrilled that Blaine's come home for the party. Every year I field question after question about where Blaine is and what he's up to. It's time for Blaine to decide what he's up to…and we have no say in that. If that means he wants to find this guy and…and…well, whatever he wants to do, we need to stand by him. Can you do that?"

She nodded her head quickly and looked duly chastised.

When Phillip left the room, she took a seat at the table with her coffee and thought about all the things she had wanted to talk to Blaine about over the years. Her first conversation with her baby boy should begin with an apology…one she'd been rehearsing for a long time.

"Come on in…" Blaine said, turning to see who was coming into his room. He'd slumped on to his bed and was currently staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Surprisingly, little had changed since he'd left the room ten years earlier. His mother hadn't turned it into a guest room or craft nook…and that thought just made him almost giddy with laughter…his mother…crafting. Nope.

"Blaine?"

Oh for God's sake…was she hear to lecture him again?

"Mom."

"I…I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute. I…Blaine, I'm so very happy you've decided to join us for Christmas this year. And for the party, of course. I know you have your own life in New York, but I'm grateful that you took the time to be here…even if the way you got here isn't –"

"Mom…don't."

"I…ok. I just worry. I know you're a grown man and you can do what you want, but I'll always worry about you, Blaine. Doesn't matter if you're seven or twenty-seven…or eighty-seven. You'll always be my baby and I'll always worry."

Blaine merely nodded.

"Did you want something?"

"What? Oh! I…I had your tux dropped off last week at the cleaners after you shipped it. It'll be ready in an hour or so and…and if you wanted to borrow my car to pick it up, that'd be fine," she said, her eyes downcast, biting on her bottom lip. He wasn't sure what that was about.

"Ok, thanks. I haven't driven in a long time, but I'm fairly sure I still know how," he laughed.

"Like riding a bike, right?" she smiled warmly.

"You taught me to ride a bike…" he grinned back. He heard her sharp intake of breath and she finally looked up at him.

"I did…yes. You were a quick study, though. I just held on to the back of the bike a few times."

"I think it was much more than that, but ok," he said, unsure where she wanted the conversation to go.

"Ok, well…I have…things…to do…oversee, for the party…of course," she murmured, then turned to leave. Laying her hand on the doorjamb she paused. "Blaine…"

"Mmm?"

Turning, she met eyes with him. "I will never, in all my life, be able to apologize enough for what happened…for making you leave. I was wrong…so very, very wrong, and the things I said were harsh, unfair and unbelievably ignorant. I've spent every day for the past ten years regretting every word I said to you that day. I just hope that someday you'll find it in your heart to forgive me…because I love you more than you'll ever know. I'm proud of you now as I was then…more so, because I know what a strong, confident, brilliant man you've grown into…and that you did it on your own. I love you, Blaine, and I always will." She turned to go, again, but paused and added, "And for what it's worth…if your heart won't allow you to forget that young man who drove you home, there's a reason. Make the effort to do something about it. Don't let him get away if he's important, alright?"

Blaine couldn't do anything but nod. The lump in his throat felt as if it was the size of a baseball and he was having trouble keeping his composure.

"I love you, Blaine…and I'm sorry I made you cut your hair," she added with a grin.

Finally, he laughed, eyes squinted and teeth showing. "It was time. I've been hiding too long, anyway. It feels good…"

"You look good, Baby B," she finished, and the childhood nickname, given to him by his big brother, did him in. With that, she turned and walked out of the room and Blaine thought maybe she was crying. He couldn't say for sure, though, because of the tears blurring his own eyes.

"Important call?" Cooper asked.

"Could be," Blaine replied, then set his phone on the table. "Looking into buying something."

"Oooh, something for me? I can make you a list if you're having trouble finding just the right thing," Cooper laughed gleefully.

"Shut your hole. I already bought gifts, wrapped them and had them sent here a week ago. And yeah, I told Dad to hide them because I know how you are!"

"You're so mean to me, B. What did I ever do to make you—"

"Oh, do NOT even go there, Cooper. I don't want to go down this road on Christmas Eve. Don't," Blaine warned, his tone serious. Cooper simply nodded, knowing very well that Blaine had every reason in the world to be angry with him, the way he up and left the poor kid with an apartment he couldn't afford on his own. It was a shitty thing to do, but Cooper had been young and dumb back then…and he'd apologized a dozen times since.

"So, ok, I'm not being Mom, here, but tell me about this 'Kurt' person. Sounded like he was kind of special to you?"

Blaine looked him in the eye to ascertain if he was being serious or if he was ready to start in on the jokes and innuendo. He looked sincere, though.

"Coop…he was just…one of a kind, you know? He didn't know me from anyone, but he wanted me to be safe. He loves the things I love…music, movies, T.V., Broadway. He loves to cook and I can't cook for shit, so there's that," Blaine chuckled. "I just had the most amazing few days with him –"

"And a few nights as well, and don't you dare lie to me like you did to Mom and give me that 'perfect gentleman' bullshit, Blaine Devon, because I saw the look in your eyes when you said that and you were lying like a cheaply woven rug, boy. You were with him and I'm talkin' in the biblical sense, and I know that to be true. I can see it all over your face."

Oh, Blaine absolutely hated that Cooper could read him so easily, but it was nothing new. He'd always been able to read Blaine. He knew when he was lying, hiding something, upset, etc. It was so annoying….

"There might have been some…stuff," Blaine said softly, not meeting Coop's eyes. He took a deep breath and considered if he should continue or not.

"So you did the deed with this guy and he didn't want to keep in touch, huh? And now you're heartbroken over it."

"Heartbroken…is a bit much, I think, but I'm not happy about how things went down when he dropped me off. He said he'd tried long distance relationships before and that didn't work out…and the idea of me going back to New York scared him. I get it, he doesn't know me. He has no clue that the idea of cheating on anyone is the very last thing that'd cross my mind…and who in their right mind would cheat on Kurt Hummel anyway? My God, Cooper, he's ethereal…so damn handsome, and his smile…it could light up a whole room."

"B, you've got it bad. You need to talk to him and get on the same page, man," Cooper advised him.

"I'd love to, but I don't know where he lives, remember. I know he's going to work with his dad, and I could probably find the shop his dad owns, but surely they're not open on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. And just showing up there without a plan…that's hardly advisable. He'd think I'd lost my mind!"

"Ha! And he probably wouldn't recognize you anyway without that small rodent you had living on your head and face – OWWW…what the fuck, man!?" Cooper bellowed as Blaine whacked him in the head.

"I need a plan…and it wasn't a small animal! You're not helping at all. What good are you, anyway, if you're not going to help me?"

"Oh, I am. It's gonna be epic, mark my words. We're gonna get Kurt Hummel back and he's gonna be wooed from here to next week. I'm in. Tell me what we're doing," Cooper asked excitedly. Little did Blaine know Coop already had his own plan.

"No, you run stuff by me before you do anything, you hear me? Promise, Coop. I don't want to freak him out or scare him off before I have a chance to talk to him properly."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"I'm serious, Coop!"

"Alright! Damn, ya try to help a guy…"

"What would you say if I moved back to Ohio?"

"I'd say that's a damn fine idea and I can't wait! Have you told Mom and Dad? I'm sure you can have your old room back. It's not like they even use that wing of the house, anyway. You could probably re-do the whole wing and have your own place up there."

"Absolutely not. I'm not moving back home, just thinking about coming back to Ohio. You're here, Mom and Dad are here, and Kurt's here. Santana's been talking to a girl she went to high school with who lives back here and I know she'd be thrilled. I just think it's time for a change. I want to do my own music and not bend over backward for everyone else, ya know?"

"I'm glad to hear it, B. No contracts you'll be breaking if you go?"

"Not a one. I knew the time was right…that's why I left when I did. No deadlines now. I'm a free man. From now on I work with who I want, when I want, if I want. The only thing I've promised is a ways off and I can do that no matter where I live."

"New client then?"

"No, current client…something we've been working on together, but it's not complete…yet. Gonna be a wild ride, I'm sure."

"Oh? Anybody I've heard of?"

"Nah…ok, maybe. A major name that I don't feel like dropping just yet…" Blaine said nonchalantly.

"Are you kidding me? You're not serious, Blaine. Dude, you're not gonna tell me?!" Cooper all but yelled when Blaine just gave him his best "not kidding you, idiot" look. "

With a sigh Blaine rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Go away now so I can get ready for this damn party you guys are throwing. Who's invited, anyway? Anyone I know?"

"My friends will be here, B. I'm sure you'll remember a few of them…maybe a few new faces as well," Cooper smiled as he walked out the door.

Thank you for the reviews, and the messages that you've sent. I truly appreciate the feedback. It helps me to know what strikes a chord with you and what you want to see in the future.

Have a great weekend! Expecting massive storms here in the midwest tomorrow. Be safe!