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SAY, CAN I TEMPT YOU?
chapter ten
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36
INT. COHEN-CHANG APARTMENT – day
"They had sex, Blaine," Hunter says and it's like someone dialed up the gravity. He pulls down, a crushing weight now not only on his chest but his shoulders too, his hand falling away from his ear, phone dropping to the ground, landing on the carpeted floor in a dull thud.
No, it's not true, he thinks, Rachel hardly knows Sebastian. They'd met that one time a few days ago during lunch—Sebastian had said they'd been introduced, and then Rachel stormed off. He thought that was Rachel being Rachel, he'd seen her storm off often enough to know it's a thing she'd perfected even in the most ridiculous situations. Had there been a reason? Had Sebastian been that reason?
No. It can't be true, Rachel wouldn't do that to him, and neither would Sebastian. Rachel was interested in Jesse, not Sebastian.
But what reason could Hunter have to call him about it? Was it a bluff? Was it a lie?
It just—it can't be true.
There's only one way to be sure and that's to ask Rachel. He'd called her an hour after Sebastian broke up with him, finally able to dial the phone without tears blurring his vision, but he'd still choked and sputtered and somewhere in there Rachel must've understood what had happened because she was there ten minutes later, hugging him tight, telling him everything would be alright.
He'd cried on her shoulder for hours, told her everything that had happened between him and Sebastian, how they'd met, how Sebastian had pursued him relentlessly but that ended up becoming something real. Or so he'd believed, anyway. Rachel hadn't said a word, she'd held him and hummed her understanding every now and then. She'd been there for him because he needed her.
But what did all of that mean if she had sex with Sebastian? It must've been her first time, she would've told him otherwise, but how had Sebastian managed to keep this from him? How had he found the time to pursue him and Rachel at the same time, while Rachel had been so busy? Why had he—
He chokes on his own thoughts.
What if Sebastian had meant every word he said? What if he was another sexual conquest after all? What if he was that good a liar?
Maybe Hunter was lying, maybe it was some kind of sick joke he'd set up with Sebastian. But would Hunter do that to someone he didn't even know?
Only one way to find out.
He makes his way into the kitchen, legs shaking, his body sick with nerves and heartbreak.
Rachel's in the kitchen with Tina, making them all some tea.
"Blaine, I was just—" Rachel starts when she takes notice of him.
Something in his eyes stop her short.
"What's wrong?"
"Did you sleep with Sebastian?" he asks directly, catching Rachel by surprise so she doesn't have time to consider her answer. He reads Rachel as well as she reads him.
And Rachel's face betrays her immediately, the concern makes way for panic, panic for fear, fear for the realization that she held him for hours while he cried over Sebastian while she knew what she'd done. She probably didn't tell him to spare his already shattered heart, but finding out like this hurts more, figuring out the blatant lie she put between them.
A lie that makes everything clear: Sebastian never cared at all.
This time gravity plays a far crueler trick on him.
He hears Rachel shout "Blaine, wait!" before he's stumbling backwards toward the bathroom, bile making its way up his throat—he barely makes it inside before he's throwing up.
Nothing. He meant nothing to Sebastian. It was all a trick, every word a lie, every smile an act, all— he breathes hard, his stomach turning, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He gave up his virginity, he broke his mother's vow all because he thought he was in love.
"Blaine," Rachel's voice sounds from the hallway and he throws himself back against the door; he doesn't want to look at her, doesn't want to talk to her, he doesn't even want to hear her.
"Blaine, please," Rachel begs. "Let me in."
The door handle moves up and down. He locks the door.
Not this, Sebastian doesn't get to take this too, not his bond with Rachel.
He hears Rachel slide down the length of the door, sitting down on the other side. "Blaine, I'm sorry. I didn't know—"
And he knows, he knows Rachel had no idea what was going on in his life, they kept missing each other and even when he had seen her a few days ago he'd been reluctant to tell her about Sebastian. Because he wanted to keep Sebastian to himself, a secret. Maybe Sebastian had counted on that.
"It didn't mean anything," Rachel says.
He can't make sense of this. Somehow it made sense before, up until Hunter's phone call Sebastian's fear had come between them, but now it's so much more: Rachel and Hunter and so many lies. How many lies? Sebastian had made him fall in love with him, seduced his sister at the same time, and for what?
"No, I mean, it did," Rachel amends, "but there were no feelings involved. I needed t—"
He draws in a breath and holds it, waiting for Rachel to continue. There must be more to this story than Hunter let on.
"I needed him to teach me to be sexy."
The sound in Rachel's voice is unmistakable, it's how she sounds when she knows she's hurt someone, disappointed someone she cares about. It's how she sounds when she disappoints herself.
No, none of it makes sense, he decides, he might not know Sebastian completely but he'd seen enough to know what was real and what wasn't and he'd found something real. Sebastian had found something real with him.
But it had to have been more than just fear that had driven Sebastian to break up with him.
"When?" he asks, his throat burning.
"What?"
"When?"
"The—" Rachel hesitates. He puts his cheek against the cold surface of the door, listening intently. He fears the answer.
"The day I came over for lunch?" Rachel says, voice betraying her insecurity. "I didn't go home. I went to his room before dinner."
He hears Rachel sniffle, and then she starts crying.
His eyes fill up with tears—Sebastian slept with Rachel after their first kiss, after he'd yelled at Sebastian about not trusting himself with him. Had Sebastian acted out? Had he set out to find distraction the only way he knew how?
But judging from what Rachel tells him she'd gone to Sebastian willingly. Why?
"I'm sorry," Rachel cries.
He doesn't answer, his whole world is crumbling at the edges and it stopped being governed by any rules he understood. He's caught in the same loop of self-doubt he was in before meeting Sebastian, mind unable to reach around all his options, incapable of settling on a road to take.
He wishes he hadn't written that manifesto, hadn't gone to his aunt for the summer.
He wishes he'd never met Sebastian at all.
Because even after all this, he's still in love with Sebastian.
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He'd spent three hours pacing his room before hopping in his car.
It's been a day and he can't stand this, the thought of Blaine hating him, the thought that Blaine believed everything he said about him. What does it say about his own self-worth that he'd reached back to his reputation? That he validated Shelby's opinion of him because it would make Blaine listen, push him away, cause the damage he needed to get Blaine to hear him.
What has he done? How could he have been so blind to Hunter's hatred for so long? For a long time, too long, he's looked up to Hunter for having his life together, for knowing exactly what he wanted from the future—he admired Hunter's strength and tenacity, his lack of weakness. God, he was such an idiot.
He'd tried calling Blaine dozens of times, but either Blaine keeps ignoring his calls or he turned off his cell phone because he hasn't been able to get through at all. He'd gotten Mike and Tina's phone numbers from Quinn, but after begging both of them to let him talk to Blaine they started ignoring his calls too.
So there was only one solution: face his problem head on. He'll go see Blaine, he has to make him see what a huge mistake he made, what Hunter made him do, what he was sparing him, the fear he felt thinking about all the future scenarios for them. But he hadn't meant it, Blaine hadn't been another conquest, he was the end of the line for him, the only boy he can still think about. Even if Blaine rejects him, even if he never gets to see him again, he needs Blaine to know that.
He'd messed up so bad. Why would Blaine even listen to him?
It takes him twenty minutes to weave through traffic and arrive at Mike and Tina's apartment, the drive getting him more anxious with every minute that went by. There's still a distinct ache in his chest where Blaine's love is missing and it's slowly starting to drive him crazy. He hasn't slept, hasn't talked to anyone but Quinn, hasn't thought about anything else but Hunter's speech and how badly he needs Blaine back in his life.
He approaches the door, a lump rising in his throat, legs heavy, but he doesn't hesitate to ring the doorbell. He came here with a purpose, and he'll see it through all the way.
The door swings open a few moments later, revealing the last person he expected to see.
"Rachel," he says, somehow manages to keep the surprise from his voice. Would she really be here comforting Blaine, knowing what they did? Had she told Blaine?
"He doesn't want to see you," Rachel says, her big brown eyes undecipherable.
"Rachel—" he starts, but she cuts him short by taking a step closer.
"Why did you break up with him, Sebastian?" she asks, voice lowered.
He's shocked at the proximity she takes, because she has even more right to hate him right now. Maybe he'd underestimated her again, maybe Rachel had realized their time together had nothing to do with feelings.
"I know there's more to you than this."
He casts down his eyes; Rachel gives him more credit than he deserves. He's half the man he used to be, growing ever smaller the longer he goes thinking Blaine hates him.
"I really need to see him," he says. "I fucked up. With you. With him. Everything—"
He swallows hard. He came here to apologize to Blaine, he's not prepared for this. "Just, please, can you tell him I'm here?"
"He knows," Blaine's voice sounds and he enters his field of vision seconds later.
Seeing Blaine again brings it all back, the pain and heartache but also the kisses and the cuddling, the loving whispers in his ear, the 'I love you' and the trust Blaine had extended him. Blaine looks how he feels, like he hasn't slept at all, like he's been crying for hours, hurt to the bone. And it was all his fault.
"I told you to leave."
"I made a mistake, Blaine." He takes a step closer, stops himself from reaching out even though he wants to. "I didn't mean what I said."
For half a second a hint of hesitation crosses Blaine's eyes, like somehow his words have touched a place where Blaine's willing to listen to him. But it disappears as fast as it came.
"Hunter told me what you did to Rachel."
His eyes flicker toward Rachel, but she keeps her eyes cast down. This is worse than Rachel telling Blaine, this is Hunter starting a war in the worst possible way. Hunter will pay for this.
He takes another step toward Blaine. "You can't believe a word he told you."
"But it's true," Blaine whispers, voice broken. "You slept with her while you—"
Blaine swallows hard, tears in his eyes and it rips him open all over again. He stares down at Blaine, so close, but the distance between them has never been greater—there's a pull inside his chest, like someone tightening a fist around his heart.
He could make excuses, how Blaine was the one insisting they'd stay friends, that Blaine never showed any interest until he kissed him back only to reject him right after, but how can he make them now?
He shakes his head, averts his eyes. "I have no excuses."
"She's my sister, Sebastian."
His eyes shoot up and meet Blaine's.
"Your sister?" he asks, the word losing its meaning. "Shelby—"
And suddenly it's all clear, why Shelby was the one to warn Blaine about him, why she'd cared enough to, why she wanted to protect Blaine from him, how Rachel and Blaine became friends and why she'd come over for lunch, why they were texting each other after Blaine spent the night with him... they were siblings. And Hunter—had he known?
"Is my stepmother," Blaine fills in. "And she warned me about you. God, did she warn me."
Blaine turns more angry than sad, cuts him down. "And she was right. Everything she told me about your past, about all the guys and the girls, it was true."
There's no point in arguing what Shelby said, his past stands and there's nothing he can change about it. Maybe at the end of the day the problem is that Blaine doesn't know him at all, but Blaine saw the most important part of him, a part he never even knew was there. He needs Blaine to know that.
"None of them were you, Blaine," he says, wishes he could talk to Blaine in private, without Rachel watching, without Mike and Tina watching from the other end of the hallway. There has to be a way to make Blaine see.
"You're the first guy I've ever had these types of feelings for," he confesses, some of the weight lifted from his shoulders. "You have to believe me."
Blaine holds his gaze for several moments, and he knows: he'll remain a ghost of himself unless Blaine decides to hear him out. He needs one person to know this isn't all there is with him, more than anything he needs Blaine to realize it the way Rachel seemingly has.
But Blaine blinks and crosses his arms over his chest, avoiding his eyes. "Please leave, Sebastian."
"Blaine, please, just let me explain," he begs and reaches up a hand without thinking— Blaine flinches.
He can't stand to think about how he hurt Blaine but seeing him hurt by his presence alone is a cruel thing to subject himself to. There has to be a way to make Blaine see.
He turns, figuring there has to be another way to reach Blaine. He looks at Rachel, her eyes apologizing for something that's not her fault. It's all on him, all of it, the pain and misery he caused people. Hunter didn't make him do anything he didn't want to do.
"I'm sorry," he tells Rachel and her lips quirk in acknowledgement.
He leaves the apartment, the door closing behind him.
"Blaine," he hears Rachel call, before the sound of footsteps sounds down the hallway, and another door closes.
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38
INT. CLARINGTON TOWNHOUSE – evening
He never thought defeat could weigh so heavy, could reach inside him and mess him up so much, because he never let it get him down like this before. Right now he's lost, he has no idea what's left for him to do except give up. No matter what he does his broken heart will be his companion for quite some time to come.
He can't think of another thing to do, he's tried everything but force Blaine to listen to him and he swore to himself he'd never force himself into Blaine's life again. Maybe he'd done enough, maybe it was best to leave Blaine alone and only cherish the hope that he'd come to him should he ever be ready. It could take a long time, maybe Blaine would never come, but at least he wouldn't be taking away his choice. No more than he already has.
The drive home doesn't take so long this time, people and buildings passing by all slightly out of focus, even the doorman can't earn so much as a nod today.
"Sebastian," his stepfather calls as soon as he sets foot in the living room.
He suspects his mother's out shopping already, or maybe visiting one of her lovers.
"Dad," he sneers scathingly. "How was Bali?"
"How was therapy?" his stepfather retorts.
"Over," he answers.
It's one of the longest conversations they've ever had.
Before everything happened with Blaine he'd been prepared to make a speech to his parents about quitting therapy, about how there was nothing wrong with him for enjoying sex, but now that speech would merely underline his shortcomings. Maybe if he'd understood, if he hadn't been blind to his own feelings, none of this would've happened.
He sighs and heads for his room, running into Hunter as he exits his office. Hunter's the last person he wants to see; he's teetering on the edge, ready to completely lose it and he's not sure how that might manifest itself.
"Hello, brother." Hunter smiles, he smiles, and a white heat spreads in front of his eyes. "Back so soon?"
"Did you know?" he asks, jaw clenched in anger. "Did you know Rachel was Blaine's sister?"
It's no excuse, even if Rachel wasn't Blaine's sister they're friends and knowing what he did still would've hurt Blaine. But if Hunter knew, if he knew who he was looking at the moment he showed Hunter that magazine then why didn't he say anything, if not just for fun.
Hunter smirks. "Of course I knew, brother. Unlike you I actually do my research."
He lashes out without thinking; his hand balls into a fist his knuckles connect with Hunter's face, socking him right in the eye. He catches Hunter by surprise because he falls to the ground, grabs for his face, and stares up at him.
"You son of a bitch."
"Careful who you insult, brother," Hunter says.
He gets up from the ground, smooths a hand down his shirt.
"I take it things didn't go so well with Blaine."
Defeat washes over him again, an invisible hand reaching around his throat, keeping him from breathing.
"I warned you, Sebastian." Hunter takes a step closer, reaches over and thumbs at his collar. "I don't lose."
He doesn't move, his legs feel like lead and he struggles for air. Everything he and Hunter had is gone, and it's Hunter's fault. He never would've slept with Hunter because Blaine was far too important to him, but Hunter enjoyed the control he had over him keeping that as an incentive. So it's Hunter's fault they're at odds, Hunter's the one who took his rejection too personally.
All he did was fall in love—and that was something he couldn't control.
The realization that Hunter's the one to blame doesn't soothe his pain. At the end of the day he'd made his own choices, blindly maybe, but his nonetheless.
"And in my defense, I didn't think you'd actually fall for the guy."
All he did was fall in love. Hunter had been wrong, he was cut out for love, it's just that his life isn't. Not with his past wrapped around his ankles like a ball and chain.
Maybe there was one more thing for him to do after all.
He leaves Hunter in the hallway without saying another word, satisfied that at the very least his face will bruise, and stumbles into his bedroom. He snatches his journal off the bed and walks over to his desk with only one purpose in mind: writing Blaine a letter.
His last resort.
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38
INT. COHEN-CHANG APARTMENT – day
There's a careful knock on the door he recognizes as Rachel's immediately. He'd traded in Mike and Tina's place for the warmth and comfort of home, but nothing eases his pain. Even here, a place Sebastian's never touched, everything reminds him of Sebastian. It's been only three days, and his time with Sebastian, albeit short, had been intense enough for the memories to have sunk into his skin, always there, constantly making him think about what happened and trying to analyze that.
"Blaine?" Rachel calls, the door creaking open a few seconds later. He curls around the pillow in his arms tighter, unwilling to let the outside world touch this room. "Can we—please, Blaine, I can't stand fighting with you."
He sighs and turns on his back. Rachel looks small and frail, unlike he's seen her in a long time and he hates how Sebastian's done this to both of them. He's not angry with Rachel, maybe a little disappointed, but he could never hate her. He doesn't think he could ever hate anyone.
"We're not fighting,"
He sits up and reaches out a hand.
Rachel hesitates for another few moments, but shuffles closer to the bed, takes his hand and crawls on top of the covers with him.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes again.
He nods, trying his best not to start crying again. Maybe it's time for the truth.
"I'm in love with him, Rachel," he says, squeezing Rachel's hand. It's more truth than anything else: he's in love with Sebastian and he thinks he might've been from the moment they met. Only something that had first felt confusing and had turned into something beautiful now only caused him pain.
"I gave him—"
He shakes his head; he won't cry over this again. He knows it hurts now because it had been perfect.
Rachel closes her other hand over their locked ones. "He's in love with you too," she says and for some reason it cuts down deeper than anything said the past three days. If Sebastian's in love with him too, why would he let anyone come between them?
"Did you see him?" Rachel asks. "Blaine, he's lost without you."
He shakes his head again, Rachel saying things he wants to hear from Sebastian, but he hadn't given Sebastian the chance. Sebastian had looked wrecked, hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes. But if Sebastian broke his heart for no reason, without hesitation, then what's the point? Relationships take work, and he can't have Sebastian running scared every turn they take. He wants everything with Sebastian.
Everything.
"He said I was just a conquest," he says, eyes downcast. "Like it didn't—mean anything."
"But it did."
What had it meant to Rachel, to lose her virginity to Sebastian?
"Blaine, look at me."
He looks up at Rachel, unprepared for anything she'll say.
"You know it meant something."
Of course it meant something, it was his first time with a boy he loved, the intimacy and their connection was deeper than anything he'd ever experienced and it wouldn't have been so intense if Sebastian hadn't felt it too. It had meant something to them both.
"I think—I do," he stutters, turning in on himself again. He can't think about this without feeling it, the good and the bad all at once and it's too much, it's overwhelming, Sebastian's smile plaguing his memory, the touch of his fingertips down his skin, the way his eyes had been alight with something new.
He lies down, his head in Rachel's lap. She starts drawing her fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, the sensation soothing and for the briefest of moments he can forget, about Sebastian, about Hunter, about Rachel and Sebastian sleeping together, about losing his virginity. For one single moment he can forget about the entire summer.
It's Rachel's voice that pulls him back. "You said Hunter told you."
He turns his head and looks up at her. "He called me. Why?"
Rachel bites her lip. "He's the one who suggested I—" her voice trails off and she looks so vulnerable his heart would've broken if it weren't already. Quinn had told him not to believe everything people said about Sebastian, but that applied to Hunter too. Maybe Hunter was the true villain of the story. What had he done to Rachel? What had he put in Sebastian's head?
"Look, it doesn't matter," Rachel recovers. "The point is that I was wrong and stupid and immature and probably not for the last time lost in my ambition. If I'd known—"
He scrambles up from Rachel's lap. It's not all Rachel's fault. He might not like being alone, but whenever he's struggling he shuts people out. He ran away to Emma's for the summer so his father would stop hounding him about colleges and somehow he'd lost touch with Rachel too. Maybe if he'd reached out to her more often they could've been spared all this.
"For you to know I would've had to tell you, and—" Sebastian turned his world upside down. "I was confused. Things were fine with Kurt, but then there was Sebastian and everything just—"
Rachel smiles. "Turned upside down?"
He takes a deep breath, remembering happier times. "Is that how you feel about Jesse?"
Rachel nods and they share a smile, a painful truth rising. How could they both have found the boy of their dreams and so completely lost touch with each other? Rachel's his girl, the person he shares all his secrets with and now they're both hurting because he stopped doing that. All because he wanted to keep Sebastian to himself.
If only he'd told Rachel everything from the start.
Sebastian had seemed surprised to find out Rachel was his sister, the panic in his eyes had been unmistakable. But then how had his eye fallen on Rachel if he didn't know? Is that where Hunter came in? Had he somehow pushed Rachel and Sebastian together?
"Sebastian didn't—" he starts. He wants to know everything that happened and he never wants to know at the same time, the truth too painful, the past too present. He didn't want Sebastian's past to matter, but now he's lost the ability to ignore it.
"He didn't make me do anything I didn't want to," Rachel says. "He made me feel—kind of special." Rachel hesitates, but he suspects she's ready to tell him her secrets as well. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm so sorry."
He reaches an arm around Rachel and pulls her closer, her arms winding around his chest. The world has turned upside down, everything he thought was true has been upturned and it's become this mess he can't seem to dig his way out of.
There's another knock at the door, and Shelby doesn't wait to be invited in either. "Quinn dropped this off for you," she says, and hands him a package, neatly wrapped in brown paper, held together by a string. There's a letter locked underneath the string.
"Thanks."
Shelby runs a hand through his hair; Rachel doesn't budge in his arms. "Can I get you anything? Some tea?"
He shakes his head. "We're fine."
"This pain won't last, love," Shelby says.
He thought it for the best to lie to Shelby and tell her he broke up with Kurt, the truth too painful to face and the last thing he needs is Shelby preaching she was right about Sebastian all along.
"You'll find the right boy when it's time."
Shelby leaves the room moments later. Rachel sits up and looks at the door, clearly still struggling with the fight she had with her mom about Jesse.
"You know she means well."
"My life isn't hers," Rachel answers. "And Jesse isn't my dad."
She pulls at her sleeves and buries her hands in her sweater.
"What's this?" she asks, pointing at the package on the bed.
His world keeps on spinning.
"It's from Sebastian," he says, the handwriting unmistakable. He knew Quinn and Sebastian had met. Had Sebastian turned to Quinn as a last resort? Sebastian didn't know a lot of his close friends, so had he reached out to one they had in common? Shelby never would've brought him the package if it had come from Sebastian. It's curious how Sebastian hadn't asked Hunter to deliver it.
"You're not going to open it?" Rachel asks, not so subtly untying the string around the package already.
He pulls aside the letter and the string, the paper giving way easily. He pulls out a leather-bound journal, one he recognizes as Sebastian's. Why would he send him this?
He takes hold of the letter, curious as to what it says, but he only stares down at it, his name looming on the off-white page. Does he want to know what's inside this journal?
Rachel seems to know his decision before he makes it; she draws a hand down his back and presses a kiss to his temple. "Courage," she whispers, one of his own catchphrases, but it makes things clear for him. He wanted to know Sebastian, he wanted the truth about everything and here it is. Maybe this is what Sebastian came to tell him the other day.
Rachel leaves the room without making a sound.
He crosses his legs, the journal on the bed in front of him, the letter shaking between his fingers. He opens the envelope and pulls out the letter, unfolding it to read.
Dear Blaine,
I don't know what I can possibly say to fix the harm I have done. I know I hurt you, and for that I'm truly sorry. I've hurt a lot of people who came to mean something to me in a very short time, and took advice from people I thought I could trust.
And now that it's time to confess I'm at a loss for words. The truth is simple: being with you was the only time I've ever been happy. My whole life has been a joke, fun and games, taking joy in others' misery and I'm not even sure why.
It finally backfired. I managed to hurt the first person I've ever loved. I wish I could take it all back, maybe you wish you'd never met me, and I don't blame you. But we can't undo the past.
So enclosed is my most prized possession... my journal. For a long time I considered it my trophy. A collection of my conquests. If you really want to know the truth, then please read it. No more lies.
A car is picking me up in the morning and taking me to Martha's Vineyard, where we have a summer home. Nothing would make me happier than if you joined me. I'm a wreck knowing you hate me. If you're interested please meet me outside my building at nine.
If not, I'll understand.
Love,
Sebastian.
Love.
He wants to believe that so badly, but will he be able to love Sebastian after reading his journal? Will he be able to look at Sebastian the same way as before if he knows all the details of his past? A collection of my conquests. Does he really want to know about all the boys that came before him? All the girls that came before him?
He opens the journal with shaking hands, terrified of what he'll read, terrified to find out Sebastian's true intentions. But the letter suggests something different.
He reads for hours.
Page after page of Sebastian's tidy penmanship, outlining the life of a boy that was proud of who he was, confident about his sexuality, but never once accepted for that. There's mention of boys, and girls, one night stands that hadn't hurt anyone, sexual adventures in often strange places, but nothing more than something physical between two people who wanted it.
For some reason he can handle that, knowing it was never more than physical with other people, that Sebastian hadn't been truly intimate with anyone but him. Maybe Sebastian had been telling the truth, maybe he never had feelings for anyone before until meeting him.
The more he reads, the more prominent Hunter becomes in the entries, slowly sneaking his way not only into Sebastian's social life, but his extracurriculars as well—Sebastian seemed all too aware that Hunter used sexual incentives to get him to do things for him, seduce this girl for gossip, seduce that boy for fun, and Sebastian had been compliant because of the challenge.
He reads about manipulation and blackmail, Hunter's coke problem and his past with a boy at military school Sebastian could only guess about because Hunter never talked about it, about absent parents but present conquests.
And then he reaches a page headed The Bet, his manifesto ripped out of the magazine and stuck between the pages. He already knew what it would say, that his manifesto was the reason Sebastian had come to him, that he was a challenge Sebastian was eager to take on. And after everything he's read already he's not surprised Hunter was involved in this too, that he'd suggested a sick bet and used his usual wiles on Sebastian.
Tears sting his eyes, but he can accept this, it's not worse than anything he's read, and the more he reads about himself the more he can see Sebastian changing, questioning himself and his motives, but more importantly, questioning Hunter.
It becomes clear that Sebastian started writing this journal because he had very few people in his life he trusted—and Hunter, the one person he had chosen to trust, stabbed him in the back. He thinks back to the phone call he got from Hunter, Hunter's voice seemingly sympathetic, but it had all been a lie, he's woven into this story more intricately than he or Rachel know; Hunter knew everything, the bet, the way Sebastian started feeling for him. He'd manipulated Rachel into—
God, how did this happen?
The more he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes. Hunter's the villain of this story. It's painful for him to read that even Hunter had his reasons, heartbroken, scared to be found out, that fear manifesting itself in these distasteful games.
He wonders if Hunter knew Rachel was his sister, if somehow he was hoping for this outcome, Sebastian heartbroken, him heartbroken. Rachel heartbroken.
All for revenge?
He tosses the journal aside and gets up, making his way to Rachel's room. He pushes through the door without knocking.
Rachel blinks up at him. "Blaine?"
"Rachel. I think it's time you tell me everything about your time with Hunter."
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39
INT. NYADA – day
He doesn't like his father being back; usually he stays gone for at least an entire month during the summer, but it had only been two weeks now and he has to be more careful. He has to make sure to close his doors when he's making phone calls and pay extra attention to who he eyes in public. There was a time he wanted to come out, back when his entire world revolved around Dave and material things didn't really matter—there was no material wealth at military school and all he had was Dave, their hot nights together, the odd day where they had the showers to themselves and spent their time exploring each other's bodies there.
He was going to come out to his father, to his friends, to the entire world. He was in love, or so he thought, and little else mattered. But then his father decided to get remarried and brought him home to meet his stepmother and younger brother, and by the time he mustered up the courage to tell someone he'd found out Dave had moved on to another boy, a boy conveniently closer to him.
He'd spent weeks nursing a broken heart, long enough to notice his father's disdain with Sebastian's sexuality, making him realize his own father would never accept him. He gave Sebastian a modest allowance, more to appease his stepmother than anything else, but his father's disapproval showed in everything: the way he avoided talking to Sebastian even when spoken to, the way he stopped caring when Sebastian stepped out of line. He couldn't come out, he'd already lost Dave but he refused to lose his father's respect.
So he'd turned to drugs—he liked the way it cleared headspace he'd otherwise use to worry about what people thought, he needed the time off it offered him every now and then. Sebastian always tells him he has a problem, but he has it under control. He started having meaningless flings, refusing to ever get hurt again.
He checks himself out in the mirror, his eye socket black and blue—normally he'd cover it up but the shiner would serve a purpose now. He exits the lavatory, makes his way back to the auditorium.
"Hunter," Jesse's voice sounds. Just the guy he was looking for. "What are you doing here?"
He turns and faces Jesse. "I came to talk to you."
"Oh my God," Jesse exclaims, raising both hands to his face and putting them on his cheeks, careful to touch around the bruise. "What happened to you?"
"Sebastian," he says with a straight face. "I confronted him about Blaine and Rachel and he lost his mind."
"Wait." Jesse blinks, responding exactly the way he'd hoped.
Jesse takes a step back, hands falling away from his face. "Rachel?"
"She didn't tell you?" he asks and casts down his eyes. "God, Jesse, I shouldn't—"
A hand on his shoulder stops him talking.
"Tell me."
He bites at his lip, but he has every intention of telling Jesse; it's why he came here, after all.
"He didn't just seduce Blaine," he says. "He got to Rachel too."
"No." Jesse's face falls, taken aback by this new information. "Rachel wouldn't."
He puts a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "Don't blame this on her. My brother is a master manipulator. And Rachel's a vulnerable girl."
He sighs and shakes his head, removing his hand from Jesse's shoulder, even though he'd love to keep touching. He'd love for a sequel to their previous make-out session.
"It's my fault," he adds for effect. "I failed her."
"No." Jesse puts his other hand on his cheek, forcing him to look up again. So naive, he catches himself thinking, good thing he's pretty. "You've been here for both of us the entire time. I don't know how to thank you."
He curls a hand around Jesse's wrist. "Promise me you won't confront him, Jesse. Sebastian's dangerous."
"Of course." Jesse nods. "Whatever you say."
Jesse pulls him closer and throws his arms around him; if it were anyone else he would've rolled his eyes or pushed him away. But he kind of likes Jesse, if not just for being so easily manipulated. If he's as easy as Rachel then maybe it wouldn't take much to get Jesse into his bed.
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40
EXT. CLARINGTON TOWNHOUSE – day
8.50 am.
He zips up his overnight bag, the two other ones already down in the car, and finally tears his eyes away from the clock. He still hadn't managed to catch any sleep last night, but tossed and turned, wondering if Blaine would show up, what would happen if he did, every fantasy scenario he could think of.
All but one. He doesn't know what he'll do if Blaine doesn't show up. Despite all his best intentions, to understand should Blaine decide he wants to keep his distance, he doesn't think he'll be able to cope. He doesn't know how he'll move on, what to do with this life. Get through the summer, he guessed, head to college, try to make a half-decent life for himself there.
It's 8.55 by the time he enters the lobby.
And the lobby's empty.
He walks over to the door. "Did he show up?" he asks the doorman, having informed the man last night that Blaine might be joining him on his trip.
The doorman shakes his head. "Sorry, son."
Maybe Blaine's running late, a tiny voice whispers in his ear, it's not nine yet, Blaine still had five minutes to get here. It's a vain hope, one he hasn't allowed himself very often because it can only lead to disappointment, and that's exactly what happens. He watches the minutes pass on his watch, tells his driver to can it three times and it's close to 9.30 when he decides that Blaine's decidedly not coming. He buries his face in his hands, exhaustion getting the best of him, his muscles hurting.
Everything hurts.
He understands why Blaine stays away; if breaking his heart and sleeping with Rachel hadn't done the trick his journal surely would have. But at least Blaine knew the truth now.
"Sir, are we leaving or not?"
He looks up at Craig, his driver, and he can see the man pitying him, more proof of how these past few days have wrecked him. Proof of how much Blaine has changed him.
"No," he answers.
He drops his bag at his feet, setting off down the street toward Blaine's home. Quinn had told him he was back home with his parents, somewhere downtown and it'll only take him about twenty minutes to reach on foot.
He needs Blaine in his life, and if he has to beg, if he has to go down on his knees and apologize over and over again to make him realize what both of them would be giving up then so be it. He'll beg and he'll apologize and it won't be lowering himself—for once in his life he'll do the brave thing. He'll go see Blaine, even if he doesn't make it through the door, even if Shelby or his father stops him, he'll keep trying, he'll shout until his voice gives out.
Blaine's building has just appeared in his line of vision when he hears someone call his name, voice barely reaching over the traffic noise in the one-way street.
He turns around, watching Jesse make his way over to him. What now?
Before he can process what's going on, Jesse's fist connects with his face, hitting him square on the mouth. He feels his skin break, lips bleeding, blood in his mouth.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he spits, trying to regain his balance.
"Hunter told me what you did to Rachel!"
"Hunter's playing you, Jesse!" he shouts, adrenaline making him more lucid, the information that Hunter's the cause of this once again causing his anger to get the best of him. "He played all of us!"
That's how Hunter saw the world, it wasn't merely fun and games but the world was his stage, the people his puppets, and Hunter was the puppet master. They were never equals.
"So you didn't force yourself on Rachel."
"Force myself?" He breathes hard. "No!"
"You sick son of a bitch!" Jesse shouts, seemingly decided that he's not going to put credence to anything he says. Jesse lashes out again; he ducks but loses his balance and falls to the ground, his head hitting the pavement hard. Jesse's on top of him before he can get his bearings, one hand grabbing him around the collar, the other landing another punch, to his eye this time.
And he can't fight back, Jesse comes at him too fast and too hard and he's too tired to really defend himself; he just tries to raise his arms to protect his face.
"Jesse!" he hears someone shout, footsteps on the pavement. Blaine.
"Jesse, stop!" Blaine shouts, and he thinks he must be pulling at Jesse's arm because his punches stop. "It's not his fault!"
But Jesse doesn't listen, he's blinded by his rage; he reaches back a hand and pushes at Blaine's chest and now Blaine loses his balance—he spins, one of his feet landing wrong on the sidewalk and he falls down onto the street.
"Blaine," he says, watching Blaine lean up on his arms, sit up on his knees, shaking his head.
A car honks.
"No," he breathes, and time stands still.
Everything slows down around him, but memories flash before his eyes at lightning speed: the first time he laid eyes on Blaine, the first time his stomach fluttered at seeing that beautiful smile break out across his face, that stupid ass face he made at him in the car. Blaine curled up naked in his arms, his fingertips tracing over his skin. The way Blaine's eyes shone when he said he loved him.
He doesn't think about it, he doesn't need to think; he scrambles up from the pavement as fast as he possibly can and rushes toward Blaine. He pushes at Blaine's back to get him away from the car—Blaine falls forward to the other side of the street, but for some reason his own legs stop working.
He's standing in the middle of the street and Blaine's eyes are wide in terror.
"Sebastian!" Blaine screams, but it's too late. He doesn't even have time to turn his head to see what's going on before the car's bumper connects with his left leg.
Next thing he knows the world is screaming.
His ears ring, the light too bright, the ground too hard, head lolling back and forth on the pavement.
"Sebastian."
Blaine's voice.
There's hand on his face and one in his hair but he's overcome with pain, his head, his ribs, one of his legs, everything hurts.
"Someone call an ambulance!" Blaine screams.
There are other people crowding around them, cars screeching to a halt, but all he sees is Blaine, right there with him.
"Sebastian," Blaine says. "I'm here."
He coughs, still tasting blood in his mouth. "I'm—s-sorry."
"Don't—" Blaine says, tears in his eyes. "Just stay with me."
Blaine cards his fingers through his hair like during their night together—sleep, sleep sounds good now. The world slipping away, something at the corner of his eyes beckoning him to close them.
"Sebastian, please," Blaine begs.
And he wants to say it, right there, he wants to look into Blaine's eyes and confess his love, tell him everything, beg him, because what if he doesn't get the chance again?
"I love—" he starts, but his eyes roll back in his head, the world spinning around him, blurred around the edges. It's not how he wanted to say it, not how he wants this to end—he wants everything with Blaine.
"I know. Sebastian, I know." Blaine cries. "I love you too."
Sirens sound in the distance.
He closes his eyes.
"Sebastian," Blaine croaks.
It's the last thing he hears before he slips into blackout, and darkness takes hold of him.
.
.
tbc
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