Yeah, I kind of dropped off the face of the earth. But school, and marching band, and High-Q, and AP Lit started and my headaches still havent gotten better. But I will try to update more. I want to finish this story soon so I can focus on my other three. This one has all of my attention now, though. Thanks for everyone who reviewed the last chapter and who is reading this chapter.

Friday's Warbler meeting went smoothly, as planned. The Council awarded Blaine his request for a duet between himself and Kurt. The countertenor had flushed a brilliant shade of crimson as the rest of the group applauded him, congratulating him on not being Blaine and still managing to get a lead. Blaine had just smirked at the comments, shrugging it off. He was the best. He deserved what he got.

After the group dismissed, Blaine wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist, leading him toward the crystalline doors that lead out to the student parking lot.

"May I help you?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy next to him.

"Yes you may," Blaine responded sweetly, placing a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. "I made reservations for two at Breadsticks and I was wondering if you would accompany me."

Kurt sighed dramatically, exasperation in his eyes as he looked over at his handsome boyfriend. "Why didn't you ask me sooner? What if I already have plans?" He teased Blaine, whose eyes had widened in horror at the thought.

"You don't!" Blaine declared, pulling Kurt against him, placing a kiss on his lips. "I've spoiled you. You know every Friday I plan a date of some sort for the two of us."

"Your point being?" Kurt laughed. "I just like watching you stress. It's cute." Blaine rolled his eyes, kissing his boyfriend again.

It would've been a sweet moment if someone hadn't just run into Kurt. Blaine shrugged as he straightened his blazer, writing it off as an accident. It was Dalton after all. Then he heard the poisonous word hissed as the boy passed by: Fag.

"Who was that?" Blaine demanded, meeting Kurt's eyes.

"Just Jaden Moxley," Kurt replied with a roll of his eyes. "It's no big deal. That's an everyday thing." With the realization of what he had just said, his blue orbs widened as he took in the look of calm fury on Blaine's face.

"Kurt," Blaine said, his voice low, almost a growl. "You switched to a school with a zero-tolerance policy, and you're still allowing yourself to get pushed around?"

"I'm not allowing myself to get pushed around," Kurt protested feebly. "It's just so trivial that I didn't want to bother anyone with it."

"Trivial?" Blaine's control on his anger was cracking. "You think your safety's trivial?" Blaine shook his head, not waiting on a response. He turned, striding toward the door with purpose. HE found himself coming to a halt when he felt a force tugging back on his blazer. "Kurt, let go."

"What are you about to do?"

Blaine stared at Kurt incredulously. "I'm going to teach that bastard a lesson."

"Blaine, no! You promised you wouldn't anymore unless it was direct orders from your dad."

"Fine," Blaine said coldly, pulling his blazer out of Kurt's grasp. "I'll see you Monday, then."

"Wh-what?" Kurt stammered. "What about our date tonight?"

"Consider it cancelled." With that, Blaine strode out of the foyer of the school, leaving Kurt behind with crystal droplets running down his face.

Later that night, sometime around ten, Kurt sat at his vanity. He had just finished going through his skincare regime. He glanced at his phone. He had been texting Blaine ever since school had let out earlier, and hadn't gotten a single text back. He bit back a sob as he stood from his vanity and made his where to his bed, where he promptly flopped down, not even concerned with wrinkling his silk pajamas.

He knew his best bet would be to go talk to Blaine at his home tomorrow. He needed to understand why his boyfriend was so upset. Didn't Blaine believe in him to take care of himself? Kurt sighed, curling under the covers, He would demand answers from his beloved boyfriend in the morning.

In Westerville, blood was trickling into a storm drain at a steady rate. The source of the stream was from a boy wearing a Dalton Phys. Ed shirt. The squeal of tires echoed through the empty street, no witnesses around to account for the hit and run murder Blaine Anderson had just committed.

So, yeah. I hope that makes of for the time gap of me being gone, regardless of the cliffhanger. So, Reviews = Love, even if it's just you telling me I'm horrible for the lack of updates. ~C.Y.R.