I called Blaine that night, wanting to make sure he was okay, and also wanting to assure him that my father completely approved of him, since he had been so worried.

"Well, that didn't take long," Blaine teased as he answered his phone. "Good news or bad news?" Blaine didn't sound worried, which was good.

"Good news. My dad thoroughly approves of you and how happy you make me." I was delighted that Dad approved of Blaine. He wasn't easy to impress, especially when it came to me, and he had dealt remarkably well with meeting my first boyfriend.

"I'm glad," Blaine replied, and he sounded like he was smiling.

"Are you all right? I know my dad can be kind of... intimidating," I said hesitantly.

"'Kind of'?" Blaine asked with a laugh. "He's terrifying, but yes, I'm all right. Your dad's awesome, Kurt." Blaine's tone was wistful, and idiotic curiosity overcame me.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked Blaine.

"You just did," Blaine replied casually.

"You've been waiting to say that, haven't you?" I asked.

"Practically since the day we met. Is that your final question?"

"Blaine."

"All right, all right. Yes, you are more than welcome to ask me anything."

"Will I ever meet your dad?" My question was met with a stretch of silence.

"You wouldn't want to," Blaine said finally, his voice dark. "Trust me, he's not a nice person."

"What do you mean?" I asked, because his tone and his words were scaring me, especially because we had been joking and laughing moments before.

"My father would not be happy to discover that I was acting on my 'disgusting life choices,'" Blaine spit out, his voice more anger than hurt.

"Blaine-" I said, trying to apologize for bringing up a touchy subject, but Blaine wasn't quite done talking.

"Might even throw me into another wall," he said with a bitter laugh.

"What?" I shrieked, only hearing a sigh in return. "Blaine, I don't care if he's your dad. If he hurts you, you have to tell someone. The police!"

"My father is a very rich man, Kurt. Anything that reached the ears of the police would go away just as quickly as it started, and I'm fine, Kurt, I promise."

"Blaine, that's abuse," I argued, hoping the word would provoke some sort of reaction, but Blaine didn't seem concerned. I probably really shouldn't be telling you about this either, but it's the only thing in our relationship that Blaine and I never really resolved. That can never be resolved.

"Kurt, things like that haven't happened in a long time," Blaine said, sounding scarily unconcerned. "It was mostly back when I was at Beechcroft, when I was dating Connor. My dad knew, and telling him wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had, but it doesn't matter. Everything will be fine."

"Blaine, you can't just shrug off the fact that your father abused you. I don't care if it was in the past, it could still happen again. That kind of behavior doesn't just stop. If anything, it escalates." I was completely freaking out. The idea of Blaine being hurt by ignorant Neanderthals was bad enough, but by his own father?

"Kurt..."

"Tell someone. Move out. Anything. Please," I practically begged. Blaine sighed.

"Kurt, it's not worth it right now. I haven't seen my father in weeks, there's no reason to bring up bad memories. If something else happens, I'll do something about it, all right?" Blaine asked, sounding resigned.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay," I said uncertainly. It wasn't that I didn't believe Blaine, this just didn't seem like the proper way to deal with this new knowledge. Well, it was new to me. Blaine had been carrying this with him for years.

"Thank you," Blaine said after several moments of silence. When I made a questioning noise, he clarified, "For the concern. There are plenty of people that would hear that and wouldn't even be surprised." He had told someone else, I gathered, and that someone else hadn't been concerned, expecting Blaine to be abused because of his sexuality. I was getting good at deciphering Blaine's mysterious statements.

"Are you okay?" I asked. It was dumb question, but I needed to hear the answer.

"Yes," Blaine said with a chuckle. "I'm all right. I promise."

The news was disturbing, but I tried not to dwell too much on what Blaine went through at home. Vacation was almost over, since we got barely any time after New Years to recover before school. Sadly, I didn't get to see Blaine on New Year's Eve or January 1st. I have to admit that a kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve is definitely on my bucket list.

I freaked out when someone pulled me towards the dumpsters on the first day of school, clamping a hand over my mouth. No one seemed concerned, or even to notice. Too lethargic from New Year's parties. It had been a long time since I had taken a dive into the dumpsters, and I wasn't looking forward to starting 2012 with such an incident. I was surprised when I was dragged behind the dumpster in the alley near the science building, instead of into it.

"Hello," Blaine said with a smile. "Sorry if I scared you."

"Try half to death!" I exclaimed, but I couldn't help but smile too. I had missed him.

"Just wanted to say hello privately." Blaine kissed me before I could ask what he meant, deep and long and... let's just say, our little hello made up for no kiss at midnight. More than made up for it.

"Wow," I said before I could stop myself, making Blaine chuckle.

"I would ask how your vacation was, but I think I know."

"Yeah," I said, still a little bit breathless. "This is very... um, public, Blaine."

"We'll talk about it soon," he promised, knowing where my thoughts were going. He had gotten remarkably good at reading my mind. "We should get to first period, though, before we get... distracted again," Blaine said, giving me an up-and-down glance that made me shiver a bit.

First period yielded nothing good. "Kurt, have you seen this?" Mercy asked, holding up a printed off copy of an article from Jacob Ben Israel's blog. "It's crazy."

"What is it?" I said, snatching the article. If it was possible for me to be whiter, I would have paled reading Ben Israel's scum.

Local News has it on good authority (our own eyes) that a powerful Cheerio is messing around with the social structure. The News spotted a Cheerios uniform with a pin having coffee with an undetermined loser, and this couple has also possibly been spotted in the park, skating, frequently getting coffee at the Lima Bean, kissing underneath the McKinley bleachers, and sneaking out of a supply closet, looking very ruffled. The question is: who's the Cheerio and why are they so determined to ruin the status quo?

Underneath the words was a blurry picture of me and Blaine kissing outside the skating rink. Only someone who knew it was us could have determined the people in the picture, since both of our faces were obscured, and my outfit was hidden under my bulky, concealing coat, except for one hint of the red scarf.

"That's crazy," I agreed, feeling dizzy. Blaine was considering being openly together with me, why did this have to happen? If Blaine was outed because of me, he would never forgive me. I knew that instinctually.

"Who do you think it is?" Mercedes asked me, stealing her article back.

"Pardon?" I asked, off in my own little world. Did Blaine know? Had he seen the article? Is that why he had dragged me behind the dumpsters to kiss me? Or, worse, did he not know? Would he be completely blind-sided when Coach Sylvester questioned the Cheerios about the news? Would he be okay? Upset with me? Angry with me? All of these questions were running through my mind at lightning speed, and I needed to sit down.

"Who do you think the Cheerio and the normal is?" Mercy asked me as I sat down, still feeling faint. Mercedes hates the word 'loser', having been called it too many times, and she always called us 'normals' when she could do so and still be understood.

"It could be anyone," I said, purposefully not lying, but also not revealing the truth. I loved Mercedes, but it took her about two minutes to tell the entirety of the school about the true father of Quinn's baby, and this was an even bigger scandal... by high school standards, anyway.

"It's annoying, Ben Israel says he's spotted them all of these places, but he only has one crummy picture, and he was never close enough to them to be able to tell who they were?" Mercedes asked, and the most horrifying thought yet occurred to me.

"Maybe he does know," I said. "Maybe he's just trying to build the hype for the scandal. I mean, no one else knew it was going on, so he couldn't just out them. He has to make it a big deal first, give it a little of time to spread through the school, and then make the big reveal." I was feeling sick to my stomach at this point. If Jacob Ben Israel knew, the whole school could know in mere minutes.

"That's a crappy yellow journalism tactic," Mercedes said with disdain, but she couldn't deny that she was curious. Everyone in the school was probably curious, except for the three people that knew. Suddenly, I was very worried about Finn.

"I have to go," I declared, trying not to sound panicked. "I need to talk to Finn."

"White boy can't wait?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's important." It's amazing that she didn't guess I was involved by my actions. I was practically half-insane, suddenly terrified for the success of my relationship with Blaine.

"Whatever," she said, pulling out her phone and probably looking for updates on the biggest scandal to hit McKinley in the last two years... maybe longer.

I found Finn at his locker, and I could tell by his concerned expression that he had seen the article. "Have you seen it?" he asked me, voice full of worry for my safety. Blaine and I coming out of the closet was one thing, being outed to the entire school in one cruel swipe was a whole other.

"I'm guessing you have," I answered, nodding. "You haven't-"

"Dude, of course not." Finn's eyes flickered around. "Everyone's asking if the loser is someone in the Glee club, since we're all at the bottom of the totem pole. That's narrowing it really badly, dude." Finn had no issue with the word 'loser.'

"I know," I said. I hadn't known about the Gleek thing, but it made sense that people would assume that.

"Coach Sylvester's screaming at all the Cheerios in the gym, and everyone's crowded around to watch," Finn said, eyes glancing that way.

"This is so not good," I practically moaned, collapsing against the bank of lockers. "He's going to hate me if everyone finds out this way."

"Dude, he would never hate you." I raised my eyebrows at my brother. "I mean, Blaine's your-"

"Finn!" I shushed him.

"Sorry," Finn said, looking guilty. "But still, he can't blame you for this."

"You don't know that," I said dramatically.

"Dude, he's crazy about you, right?" Finn asked, and I nodded in reply. "Then he should be happy that everyone knows your his."

"You don't understand, Finn," I argued, ignoring the possessive note to Finn's wording. "He has his reasons, and I know enough about them to respect them." They were reasonable, after all. With everything he's been through, he doesn't want to risk living that kind of horror again.

"Fine, but it's still not your fault if everyone finds out." I sighed and gave up on trying to convince Finn. He could be very stubborn when he wanted to be.

I got the text I had been expecting last period.

Coach Sylvester chewed out each and every one of the Cheerios while the school watched today. Have you seen it yet?

Yes.

This isn't exactly how I want to come out, Kurt.

I don't want this either, Blaine, but the fact of the matter is, people know there's something going on. Either we keep things on the down-low, or we make a decision, right now, to face down the scandal.

Blaine never answered that text. He didn't answer any of my following texts that day either, or my calls that night. I couldn't imagine what was going on inside of his head, but I decided to give him some space. The standard for calling someone is three days, right? That's what I decided to give him. Three days before I dragged him away and made him talk to me. Heck, I might even show up on his door step, regardless of his father.

"I don't know what to do," Blaine said, scaring the crap out of me as he locked the door to the choir room I had come through on the second day of my wait. I had stopped to investigate why the door to the choir room was open, hoping it wasn't vandalized again, and the moment I had stepped inside, the door had shut behind me.

"About the article?" I asked, knowing the answer. The school was buzzing, the scandal not having lost any strength. Normally, minor scandals fade out, people losing interest because there was nothing to prove it. Now they had a picture, and the whole thing had become one life-sized game of Clue. Accusations were made, and quickly rejected, and Jacob Ben Israel was the person to know. It was exactly what he wanted, and only when people started losing interest would he start leaking more. I prayed to the idiocy and curiosity of my classmates.

"Someone just asked me if I was the Cheerio. There are only three real candidates: me, Santana, and Becky. We're the most powerful Cheerios, and we're the only ones with pins. I managed to... well, he doesn't suspect me anymore, but the point remains. People are going to find out." I recognized the look in Blaine's eyes, I had only seen it once before, the day we made up after our pseudo-break-up, almost two months ago. Pure terror.

"Blaine, we don't have to-"

"And there are only two real candidates, really. I mean, it's obvious that the person with their back to the camera in this picture is male. Santana's been outed, so no one suspects her really. The pot's on Becky, but if people were smart, they would realize that the Cheerio is almost the same height as the male," I would have laughed at that had it been any other conversation, "and Becky's abnormally short, and that only leaves me, Kurt. Just me." Blaine was trembling, so I pulled him out of view of the doors, wrapping him in my arms and rubbing his back. It killed me how damaged he was.

"Blaine, it's going to be okay," I assured him even though I didn't believe it myself. He was clinging to me like he never wanted to let go, and my heart just about broke. "The scandal will die down, and everything will be back to normal. Then, if we decide to, we can make the grand reveal," I teased, trying to make Blaine smile.

"I think we should tone it down," Blaine said, pulling away and brushing away a few tears he had started to shed. "Just for now. I know you want to be open, if not quite like this, but I still need some time to think. Please?" he asked, and how could I say no when he looked so young and scared and so vulnerable in that moment?

"Of course," I said. "We'll just... huddle in our closet for a few days." Blaine could hear the disdain in my voice, and his laugh came out very throatily.

"Thank you," he said, giving me a quick kiss that barely counted. "We'll put the closet on the list of conversations we need to have."

"We have a list?" I asked, not able to think of any others.

"Don't think I've quite forgotten how I got finagled into meeting your dad," Blaine said with a smile, and I blushed. I had forgotten about our agreement to talk about sex. Oh, for the love of Pete, you're not a virgin, stop squirming. "What's up with all the swimsuits?" he asked, finally looking around the room.

"We're doing a big number in the pool that's going to amount to Mr. Schue asking Miss Pillsbury to marry him," I replied.

"This school is so weird," he said with a laugh. "You can go back to class if you want to, I'm going to hang out here until I can slip back into full hallways unnoticed.

"So, basically, you're avoiding history class?" I asked with a smile, and he groaned.

"It's so boring. We had U.S. History at Beechcroft as sophomores, but McKinley didn't even bother to find that out. I should be taking World History, but I didn't want to protest and get stuck in a class with sophomores and burn-outs, so I'm just acing U.S. with flying colors."

"You are very sneaky," I said, grabbing him in another kiss. "I'll see you soon." I went back to class, and I'm sure Blaine stayed in there and went through our sheet music. I know he did, as a matter of fact, and I'm sure you do too. Remember that copy of the sheet music for I Will Be that went missing? Yeah, who else was in there?

Toning it down was one thing, and it was reasonable, considering we had been downright irresponsible as of late, but the fact that it corresponded with Blaine texting and calling me less wasn't okay. I knew he was trying to draw away from me, but I had no idea how to stop him from doing so. We had coffee once during the weekend following Jacob Ben Israel's article, but instead of meeting up in the coffee shop and kissing and holding hands at the table, Blaine grabbed coffee there before picking me up covertly, and we ended up parked near the make-out spot uptown, drinking coffee and talking. Not that our little date wasn't fun, but the atmosphere in the car was tense, and I knew why. We both did. There were some heavy things on Blaine's mind, and I didn't want to pressure him to make a decision either way. Except I very much did, hence the awkwardness.

Michael week lifted my spirits considerably, enough that I stopped being slightly, unintentionally terse, and Blaine warmed up a little. Sadly, he wasn't warming up to the idea of us being out, but that was a whole other issue.

I can't believe we're doing MJ! See, this is the kind of legendary music you would be allowed to perform if you were a part of the New Directions!

I think you spelled that wrong. At least, Charlie told me something very different... though I happen to like both.

*Blaine!*

I meant as names for Glee clubs. What were you thinking? Anyway, can't we leave off the arguing for a few minutes?

*Blaine,* I know what you meant, and who said anything about arguing? I just have a proposal.

This does not sound good.

You're amazingly talented, Blaine. Don't you think it would be fun to spend at least one afternoon with people that are just as talented as you are?

The Cheerios are plenty talented. Well, more *athletic* and *flexible* than talented, but still. I'm humbled to spend my days surrounding by gold medal gymnasts in short skirts.

Wow, that sounded remarkably hetero.

Oh, shush :)

Anyway, I was thinking you could visit a Glee practice. We have rehearsal tomorrow, and I know you don't have practice.

I can't believe you managed to convince Brittany to give you a copy of the Cheerios' schedule. That's supposed to be sacred.

I'm magic.

Did you make out with her again?

*Blaine!*

Just checking. I'm pretty convinced you could convince anyone to do *anything* with those talented lips of yours :)

...

Get your mind out of the gutter, Hummel.

Anyway... would you consider it?

Babe, I think if I started spending time with the Glee club, it would make it pretty obvious that I'm the Cheerio breaking all the social rules.

Babe?

Is that only okay when you say it?

Oh, right. I had forgotten about that. It kind of just... slipped out.

It's fine :) I didn't mind at all, and your dad looked more amused than anything.

Here's what I was thinking though: who would know? The Glee club is the prime suspect for housing the loser, yes, but all of the Glee club has already talked about this and decided it wasn't them. They think I'm too innocent to be secretly dating anyone anyway.

Well, you are pretty innocent. Not that that's a bad thing.

My point is: even if the Glee kids are a little suspicious, they won't associate you being there with the rumor because they don't think we're involved. And they are the only ones who're going to know you're there, and they won't be gossiping about it. I mean, it's not a big deal. Even Coach Sylvester has spent some of her afternoons in Glee club. Hell, she *coached* a Glee club last year. Not ours, but still...

I don't know, Kurt...

Just in case you need some extra incentive: I'm performing my Michael number on Tuesday. Wouldn't it be more fun to not have to sneak?

You're more manipulative than I give you credit for being. Deal.

And that is how you manipulate a shy boyfriend. I'm not proud of it, but I definitely convinced Blaine to come to Glee with an ulterior motive: the more comfortable he felt with the idea of us being out (which was integrally combined with our very separate social stations), the more likely he was to agree that was what's best for us. I manipulated him. I'm not proud of it, and I regret it... we'll get to it, Rachel, I promise. The story's almost over.

Blaine came to rehearsal that Tuesday, Day 84, as you're aware, and I performed The Way You Make Me Feel... a very suggestive performance, which probably makes a lot more sense now, doesn't it? I tried not to sing directly to my secret boyfriend, who was sitting in the back and pretty much drooling by the second verse, but it was difficult. The song was for him, after all, and I've never been very good at subtle. Blaine especially enjoyed the little wink I gave him near the wind-out.

Ain't Nobody's Business,

Ain't Nobody's Business

(The Way You Make Me Feel)

Ain't Nobody's Business,

Ain't Nobody's Business But

Mine And My Baby

It was true, after all, and I would keep it our business for as long as possible. For Blaine's sake.

I thought everything that had happened at Glee club was okay and within our boundaries. After all, I don't think anyone suspected, although Finn laughing his ass off made things a little more difficult. Someday I will kill that boy. However, Blaine didn't seem to agree with my assessment of how Glee club had went for us.

He stopped answering my texts, even the flirty, non-serious ones asking how he had liked my performance. I called him, I left messages, he never called me back. For the first time, he shut me out completely, and it was awful. I hadn't even realized how frequently he had been my company until I called up Mercedes to hang out and she asked sarcastically if I was busy. I had been busy for about the past three months with Blaine, and only now that he wasn't around constantly, was I realizing how big a portion of my life he had become. It sucked that he wasn't around. I had to resort to hanging out with you, which I'm pretty sure is how I got roped into this conversation.

Anyway, I confronted Blaine at his locker when MJ week wrapped up, that Friday. "What's been going on with you?" I asked, not even bothering to wait for the halls to hear. Blaine's eyes flicked around to look at our audience, and then he pulled me into the empty Spanish room, holding my wrist instead of my hand. It was pointed.

"We need to break up." They were the most crushing words I had ever heard, and for a moment, I couldn't even believe Blaine had said them.

"What?" I asked dumbly, unreasonably blind-sided.

"We can't keep this relationship a secret, Kurt. The whole school knows, even if they don't know that it's us, and I can't do it. I can't be open, like I was in Columbus. I can't risk it, Kurt." Blaine sounded resigned, but not particularly upset.

"Why?" I asked dumbly. I sure was saying a lot of dumb stuff, but it felt like my world had just imploded. Now I know why people are so dramatic in movies. When unlikely romances ended, it really did make you want to curl up with a pint of Ben & Jerry's and a stack of movies you would never watch under any other circumstances.

"You know why, Kurt," was all Blaine said in reply, his voice icy cold. I was about to get upset with him for not caring, and then I realized... he was shutting me out, but not very well. I knew all the cracks in his armor now.

"Blaine, all those stories you told me don't apply to us." Blaine looked at me incredulously. "I'm serious. This is entirely different from what happened at Beechcroft." Any emotion I had seen in Blaine's eyes left them. "Sure, we'll get some flack for breaking the status quo, but you're still a Cheerio, and you'll still be invincible. Hell, you'll probably pass some of that protection along, rather than the other way around. I know this is difficult for you, but I'm not Connor. I can handle whatever happens." It was probably the worst thing I could have said. I literally saw the onslaught of painful memories going on inside Blaine's head, and he walked away without another word.

That, I knew, was it. The final straw. Our story of star-crossed lovers had ended, Day 87, Friday, January 13th. And I couldn't even cry, because I knew it was my fault.


A/N: This is not the end of the story. Don't you worry. More next week.