I know this chapter isn't exactly what you have been waiting for, but we needed some more background story on Blaine. Thank you for all the wonderful feedback you've given me so far, you are a bright light in a dark tunnel, and I'm glad to have you to read my silly writing!
I don't speak Spanish, so if Santana says something odd, I'm sorry. I googled Spanish swearing and picked some of the funniest and more colourful word choices I could find, and apparently they were also commonly used by Spanish talking people, or so the site says. Literally translated they make no sense, but just imagine Santana saying bad, bad things, okay?
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything else you may recognize.
"Me cago en todo lo que se menea!"
Blaine looks up from his notebook at the sound of Santana's outburst. They're with two of their classmates for an afternoon study session, trying to finish a group project before everyone leaves in opposite directions for Thanksgiving.
"Girlfriend trouble? he asks, hoping nothing is wrong. He's grown quite fond of Brittany, and even fonder of the softer version of Santana he gets to see when the two girls are together.
"No, boyfriend trouble," Santana sighs, and it must be serious for her to be so normal and mellow. No snark, no quips, no innuendos, no slightly veiled insults.
Patrick, who has the most obvious crush on Santana ever, looks up with a ridiculously optimistic expression plastered across his face. Santana had castrated him verbally during the group's first study session, when Patrick point blank asked her if she was a lesbian. The question came after Santana made out with Brittany ten feet from their table in the library, and let them wait for fifteen minutes until she deemed it appropriate to break for air. Santana had told Patrick with a quite colourful word choice that nobody put labels on her, and then a string of Spanish words they probably shouldn't bother to look up in a dictionary. After that, Patrick seems to have kept the hope of the Latina swinging both ways, in his favour.
"It's my roommate's trouble, Vaya un Imbécil," she bites. "Well, heartbreak emergency, I'm out of here," she says, quickly wiping all of her stuff into her bag.
"Is there anything we can do?" Blaine's helpful gene automatically kicks in.
Santana looks at him with a wicked grin on her face.
"A good fuck might help him. Are you offering?"
Blaine splutters and blushes. He knows by now that this is how Santana ticks, but it still catches him completely off guard each time she says anything uncensored and blunt like that.
"Didn't think so, Mary," she winks. "Let me know if Magdalena decides to come out to play. See you losers after Thanksgiving; I'll email you the best part of our paper tomorrow, aka my pages."
And then she's gone.
"I guess there's no point in continuing this without Santana," Blaine says slowly, trying to catch Patrick's attention, with his eyes glued to the retreating back of their friend.
"Agreed," Elijah nods. "Maybe we could finish this over Skype some time during the holiday?"
They agree on a tentative time, and Blaine takes the responsibility of updating Santana on their plans.
With the interruption cutting their study group short, Blaine finds himself with unexpected free time at his disposal. He wonders how to best take advantage of that. He could go to Bushwick and work out, but he isn't working today, so it means more than an hour spent commuting. But he does have the time for it today. On the other hand, he should finish his contribution to the group paper in music history they were supposed to finish today.
Then Blaine remembers that he cleaned the bathroom last night, and it feels as if it's been ages since he indulged himself with a long and hot bubble bath. Maybe he should splurge on a day of luxury in his own home, creating a home spa before he works most of the upcoming nights during Thanksgiving weekend.
The idea still seems tempting when he's home thirty minutes later. He cooks pasta for dinner, checks his email for any important updates before the mini-break, finishes cleaning the dishes so his counter is sparkling and tidy for his evening toast and orange juice, texts Santana about the Skype-idea and asks how her roommate is doing, changes the sheets of his bed because he loves going to bed in clean sheets after a home-spa, and prepares a calm play list as the tub is filled with hot water and bath oils.
Santana's answer doesn't really make much sense, but Blaine interprets it as her roommate is really upset about the breakup:
Skype? We'll see about it, I probably have more important things to do. Roomie's soaked my boobs in tears. Fortunately, we have an almost untouched cheesecake in the fridge. Reinforcement, aka second roommate, is on her way. Still up for a fuck?
Why are they eating cake? Maybe that helps for heartache. Blaine wouldn't know, he always turns to boxing when he needs an outlet. He ignores her last question, but smiles when simply thinking about cheesecake reminds him of Kurt, who bought the same kind of cake yesterday.
He undresses, and steps carefully into the almost scolding water. If he gives it five minutes, the almost-pain will pass, and the water will take its effect on his muscles, helping him loosen up and relax. He should have done this ages ago. Boxing is prime stress reliever, but baths are a very good number two.
He has a hectic schedule ahead of him, but he's not going to complain. He's living in his dream city, studying what he loves at a prestigious school, and living on his own in his brother's apartment. Dreams can come true, but not without effort and investment. He's going to make it; he's going to show them all. The Nostradamic predictions from his parents about his impending doom will be shivering in shame when he graduates and is able to support himself on his talent and hard work. He's not sure if he'll be majoring in acting or singing yet, but that's what Freshman year is for – exploring and figuring out yourself. He's going to make it. He has no other choice, because he's not going to crawl back to his parents and admit they were right.
They had allowed Cooper to purchase an acting career, probably to humour him until he was ready to commit and be serious about his future, and do the business degree their father had wanted. But then it turned out that Cooper was able to make a living from his telemarketing commercial and its continued reruns until he landed a part in a movie. And because he's made it, apparently Blaine isn't allowed to pursue the same path. Mr. Anderson needs an heir to his low-scale empire, and can't have both sons disappointing him, letting down his dreams and ambitions. So his parents had tried to talk him out of applying to Tisch, arguing that he should aim for something safer, and even more prestigious. With all the hardship he'd been through, he deserved a break and a guaranteed job after graduation. With all the obstacles ahead of him because of his sexuality, he shouldn't make it any harder on himself by pursuing one of the roughest throat-cutting businesses of them all.
Financial security is grand, but personal achievements and happiness are priceless to Blaine, and that's why he went against his parents and their wishes. They didn't hide how they didn't want to make it easy for him. The college fund that was established for him is being held back, for when he has to start college all over to do his business degree. Blaine can't even begin to describe how unfair it feels. And he's so grateful for his brother, who for once was empathic and foresighted enough to help him out, letting him stay in his apartment. Which Blaine still suspects was bought solely for him, but he has no way of proving that. With the job at Monty's Food Corner, private savings from his stints at Six Flags, student loans and very few monetary indulgences, he's able to make ends meet, and he's so going to show them.
He'd asked Mr. Parker two weeks ago if there were any chances of getting Thanksgiving off, to go home and see his family. Mr. Parker had regretted his answer, but it was too short notice to make alterations to the shift schedule, and Blaine had to work his usual nights. Happy that his strategy of asking late had succeeded, so he can tell his parents he tried without lying, he'd composed himself to something more realistically disappointed. Then he'd offered on the spot to work more nights if needed, if anyone else needed the time off. He didn't have anyone in New York to spend Thanksgiving with anyway, and he could use the extra money. Mr. Parker had taken him on his word, and that's how Blaine is going to work each night from Wednesday to Saturday.
After his conversation with Mr. Parker, he'd called his parents to inform them that he would not be able to come home this year. Two days later, Cooper had called and invited himself to visit Blaine a few days after the Thanksgiving weekend. Blaine is truly touched, because they've never had the best brotherly relationship, but it seems as if Cooper is trying. It seems as if it's easier to establish a connection, some common ground to work from, now that Blaine is older and their eight year age difference isn't as prominent.
His parents had seemed upset and disappointed, but the idea of going home to be interrogated about his progress in his studies and his work prospects was as tempting as getting rid of his curls with nothing but a pair of tweezers. He's a Freshman, for crying out loud, nobody recruits people almost straight out of high school. And Blaine knows he'll have to go home for Christmas, to take part in the Anderson dinner party-traditions, and let every aunt and uncle and family friend check that he's still alive and unfortunately still gay. For now, though, it had felt good to let them know that his obligations made it impossible to go to Ohio for the holiday. If it was something his father should understand and respect, it's work ethics.
Blaine sighs, and slides further down into the still hot water, covering his entire body. He does have a really great life in New York, and it seems as if some distance is giving him the possibility to learn how to stand up to his own parents and shape the life he wants for himself. The only thing missing, is a boyfriend. Someone Blaine can shower in all the love he has to share, and who can love him in return. Someone to explore and experience New York in general and life in particular with. Someone to discuss passionately with, and then have some great make up-sex if they strongly disagree, or just some great sex because they agree that they are two awesome young men with the best opinions. He wants someone who'll want to see plays and concerts with him, someone who can stand spending five hours shopping for clothes with him without complaint, and someone who enjoys a quiet night in with home-cooked food, but also likes to dance and have fun. He wants someone that can brighten his day when the teachers have been unnecessarily rough. And he wants someone he can surprise with flowers or chocolate-covered strawberries or whatever this man of his prefers, when he's having a difficult day. Correct that; Blaine would love to plan surprises and gestures like that on even the good days too. He'll never object to celebrating life and each other. Blaine wants the big fairytale romance. And he believes it's out there.
His mind inevitably goes to Kurt. He wonders how he's doing. He wonders if he worked things out with that guy, or if they broke up. He wonders if he's sad or if he's happy. Blaine wants him to be happy, without doubt. It just sucks to be falling for someone taken. And if he's no longer taken, Blaine doesn't want to simply be a rebound guy. He wants more for himself than that, and he doesn't want to tarnish the way he feels about Kurt with a quick fling. But Kurt probably is still taken. The guy would have to be an idiot to let someone like Kurt get away. The best ones are always taken, he's been told. It's actually kind of rude to say something like that to someone who's single. Blaine wants to believe that Kurt will fly into Monty's in a few days, and be happily single and ready to be taken by storm by Blaine. But the reality is probably closer to Blaine doing some more boxing to forget about his crushed crushing heart, and continue to nurture the friendship they've established and be happy with that.
Out of the tub, dressed and curled up under a thick blanket in his couch with a mug of coffee and Vogue, he texts Santana. His compassionate soul and the slight heartbreak he's nurturing, makes him feel sorry for her roommate, and want to reach out. He considers texting Kurt, but he doesn't want to pry in private business. They're friendly, but he's not sure if they are close enough that he can ask about something that personal over a simple text. Fortunately, Blaine will be working in two days, and hopefully Kurt will come by Monty's then.
Pleasantly warm and comfortable after the bath, snuggled up on his couch, he falls asleep. Vogue falls out of his limp hands, and he soon dreams of Kurt.