I am currently supporting a brain-splitting, mind-blowingly horrible headache, and it's two in the morning, and my coffee supply just ran out, so if there are spelling mistakes, point them out and I'll fix them, TOMORROW. Right now, I think I need sleep. I just wanted to get this published before I went to bed. -yawn-

14: Please Forgive Me (Bryan Adams)

Somehow, that was enough to get Kurt to let him into his dorm room. Hélène had left when she realised that Kurt wasn't in any danger; she snuck away quietly, knowing that she had no business being a part of their conversation after that point, and that it would just make the situation tenser if she stayed.

Kurt closed the door behind them, and looked at Ryan expectantly. "Is that all? She's a bitch?"

Ryan nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, no. But that seems like the easiest explanation for... what you saw." He sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I know I hurt you Kurt, and I never meant for that to happen. I guess I'm just... a little too naive sometimes. She tricked me."

Kurt bit his lip. Ryan's dejected tone had his heart softening, and that made him angry, because he wanted to hate Ryan. He wanted to be angry at Ryan, because then he wouldn't have to deal with the pain he felt when he thought Ryan was cheating on him. He just couldn't hate Ryan when he was making that face; looking like he thought he was the most despicable thing on the face of the planet.

"So you don't... you don't like her?" Kurt found his voice asking, and he was embarrassed by how much the words seemed to tremble as they tumbled from his mouth. Ryan shook his head quickly, his hat slipping down over his eyes. He pulled it off and held it in front of him, his fingers anxiously tracing along the brim unconsciously.

"No, Kurt. I wouldn't have been seeing you if I liked her. I don't like girls. I thought that was obvious." His eyes looked downcast and settled on his hat, playing with it a little nervously. "I don't expect you to forgive me for doing that to you— but I honestly had no idea what she was planning. Lillian just can't except that I can't reciprocate those feelings for her. I know it doesn't make it any better... but she kissed me, not the other way around. I could never like her like that. I only have eyes for you... oh, Kurt, don't cry."

Kurt hadn't even realised he was crying until he felt Ryan's hand on his face, rubbing away the offending wetness from his cheek. He felt so pathetic for not letting Ryan explain things in the first place; he felt like a fool for being so hurt over something so little. "God," he laughed, when he realised how pathetic this really was, "This is all so... high school. I mean, geez, it's not like a caught you sleeping with her or anything." He laughed slightly, and Ryan made a disgusted face.

"Oh, ew, gross. That's not an image I needed implanted into my brain." He dropped his hat onto Kurt's dresser and massaged his temples. "I think I need mental-floss." Ryan put his hand back up to Kurt's face, looking into his eyes carefully, searching for forgiveness. Kurt chuckled, leaning into Ryan's touch on his cheek.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," Kurt whispered, letting his eyes flutter closed when Ryan ran his thumb over his cheekbone.

"You had every right to," Ryan said, closing the space between them and brushing his lips to Kurt's forehead. "Though, I wish you'd trust me more. I would never do anything to hurt you." Kurt buried his face in Ryan's shoulder, and Ryan put his chin on Kurt's head.

"I have trust issues," he mumbled into the fabric of Ryan's shirt, "I should have trusted you, and I'm sorry I didn't."

"I hope I can earn your trust one day, Kurt," Ryan declared, pulling away from the embrace. He looked at Kurt seriously. "I really, really do."

"If I were there, I'd take her to the rug. Please tell me you at least slapped her."

Kurt smiled, shaking his head slightly. "No, I didn't hit her, Mercedes. Though, now that I think about it, I totally should have."

"It'd serve her right. The bitch tried to steal your man!"

Kurt chuckled into his phone, throwing a sidelong glance at Ryan. Final dress rehearsals were about to begin, and it wouldn't be long until they started their run-through. Ryan looked darling in his black dress shirt and white slacks; his partner, an adorable but perhaps too excitable girl named Madison, was wearing a white dress with a black sash around the middle that met in a bow on her back. During rehearsal, Ryan's hat was white with a black sash as well, but for the actual performance DiBucci had requested he go hatless. The look on Ryan's face had been priceless; he looked as though he'd never 'gone hatless' in his life.

"It's like going commando," Ryan had confided in him earlier, his tone completely serious, "If you're not used to it... it just feels weird!" Kurt didn't share this comment with Mercedes, because he knew she was already touchy on this whole Ryan-never-being-sans-hat thing. She thought it was strange, and kept asking about it; Kurt avoided her questions on the matter, because he didn't really know why Ryan wore hats; it was just his thing.

"Are ya still there, Kurt?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. They're about to start the show; I'll video-call you later, alright? I don't want Ryan to think I'd rather talk on the phone than watch him perform."

Mercedes booming laugh followed that comment, just as the tech crew was lowering the lights. She bid him farewell, and he tucked his phone back into his pocket, making sure it was off so that his ringtone couldn't accidently upset the performance. Kurt was situated about three rows back; the auditorium was dotted with on-lookers, a few of them loved ones, but most of them teachers coming to admire their handiwork before the show the following night. The curtain rose, and the first skit began.

In the second skit, Kurt's mouth moved unconsciously to both Ryan and Madison's lines when it came to their part, having had the whole thing memorised by now. He was mesmerised by Ryan's acting ability, and then the way he danced; it was one thing to being dancing with him, and quite another to be a casual observer. The moves looked so familiar, and the words too, that Kurt almost wanted to join them. He didn't dare, of course, start singing, content to mouthing the words and occasionally humming along.

He clapped when they were finished, feeling perhaps even more relieved than Ryan himself that he had nailed his part. Ryan's every step, every line, every note was perfectly done, and Kurt couldn't have felt prouder. His were the last claps to fade out as the third performance again, and he waited breathlessly for Ryan's other part as a back-up dancer in the seventh scene.

When the seventh and final skit began, Kurt watched attentively. Ryan sashayed onto the stage behind the two leads, along with four other male dancers and two female ones. To Kurt, of course, Ryan was the best dancer, his feet easily finding the steps and moving flawlessly to the rhythm. Two of the other dances collided with each other half-way through and messed up the final ten beats, but Ryan continued as if nothing had happened, finishing with his signature deep bow.

The rest of the cast pile onto the stage, joined hands and did a final bow all together; Ryan broke the fourth wall just long enough to wink at Kurt before turning his attention back to the entire invisible audience, bowing along with his friends. The lights went up and the cast of about thirty young adults swarmed in all directions, several (including Ryan) simply jumping off the five-foot stage rather than go to stage left and take the stairs down.

Kurt was enveloped in a huge hug before the lights were even back to their fullest brightness, Ryan beaming brighter than any spotlight could have. "Did you see it? I was perfect!" he gushed, modesty leaving him for a moment as he basked in the glory of said perfection. Kurt grinned toothily back at him, nodding along. "Let's hope everything goes like that tomorrow night when we do it for real... besides Jackson tripping over Peter, of course." Kurt made a noise of agreement, and Ryan wrapped his arms around Kurt in another warm hug— he was never shy about his public displays of affection, at least on campus— and Kurt peeked over Ryan's shoulder. He glared daggers at the girl approaching them, willing her with his eyes to just leave them the fuck alone. He had never looked at someone with such hatred, except maybe Dave Karofsky after one too many unexpected slushie facials.

Kurt let go of Ryan, still attempting to give Lillian the Death Stare. It didn't seem to work at doing either of the intended outcomes— make her go away, or make her die a slow and painful death. She poked Ryan in the shoulder blade, and he turned to look at her, his pleased expression turning into one of sadness.

"Hi," she said simply, straightening her costume a little. Kurt wanted to say she looked ridiculous, or something just as nasty, but she actually looked quite nice in her lilac dress and white accessories. Kurt would never lie when it came to fashion, except maybe to say that he loved all of Ryan's numerous hats.

Ryan eyed her suspiciously. "Lillian." It wasn't a greeting, nor was it a question. Her name just sort of hung in the air between them, filling the empty void. Kurt really did want to slap her across the face, but his nature wouldn't allow him to. He was not a violent or aggressive person. He could not allow himself to stoop so low.

"I wanted to apologise," Lillian said smoothly, like the words had been rehearsed. They sounded fake, and even Ryan wasn't naive enough to be tricked by her twice. He raised one eyebrow delicately, looking down at her.

"Why? Because your plan to ruin my relationship didn't work out?" He wished, vaguely, that she had kept her promise and gotten on a plane to London when she said she was going to. He honestly didn't want to look at her. He wasn't sure if he'd ever belt so betrayed, and he'd lived with Sharpay Evans for eighteen years.

Lillian looked down at her white pumps, distantly digging her toe into the carpet. "Well... yeah. Sort of. I'm a horrible person, and you must hate me—" Kurt cut her off with a loud scoff, but she only paused for a moment before continuing. "I have come to the conclusion that I can't make you straight, and I hope we can still be civil to one another, or even friends again?" She extended her hand toward the blond, but he made no move to take it. Instead, he looked towards Kurt, his eyes asking a question. Kurt's eyes gave an answer.

"I don't think that'd be appropriate, Lillian," was his polite refusal, his words short and neutral, without even a hint of emotion. He wasn't crowned the Drama King of East High for nothing. His acting was perfect, as always. He managed to keep a straight face. "I don't think that we should be friends anymore."

Kurt saw how Lillian's face seemed to crumple, and she reminded him of Rachel Berry, or maybe even Santana, in a way. He almost felt sorry for her as he watched her compose herself, putting on that mask of alrightness that he knew all too well. He'd worn that mask a lot in high school. Now it was her turn to wear it, her turn to be in pain. She had almost caused him to ruin the best thing that had happened to him since he came to New York. He wasn't about to pity her for being horrible to him.

"Okay," she said, her voice even. Only her eyes betrayed how hurt she was.

Ryan almost stopped her as she turned away— he was too nice for his own good, sometimes— but Kurt put a hand on his arm and murmured, "Let her go. She doesn't deserve it." Ryan looked at Kurt with gratitude, laying a hand on the small boy's shoulder and squeezing gently.

They were going to be okay. They were going to make it.