Oh my, I am so sorry for the long wait, but I was busy with college. And when I'm not busy with it, I just want to sleep, eat, watch and rewatch Teen Wolf over and over again and have to work, too. But this chapter is all fresh and hot from the oven! I hope you like it. PS: The next chapters are happening in two different locations and Kurt and Blaine will be apart for a little while. But not for too long, don't worry.

-XxX-

He felt like he was underwater. The sounds of people talking, the cars passing by were loud in his ears, but also muffled and far away, like he was drowning and the lights of the city were blinding him. It was too much to take and yet, he wanted to take it all.

He screwed up. He knew he did. He knew that someday, somehow, he would have to tell Kurt what he did. What his prime intentions were, but a selfish side of him, the part where he only wanted to forget, told him no. Unfortunately, Kurt knew in the worse possible way.

But of course, who was he kidding? He couldn't have lied to Kurt for eternity. At some point, he would've had to tell him the truth about the game, about his first intentions. He didn't hope, in a million years, that Kurt would have to learn about it by humiliation though.

Once he stepped in the loft, it was dark. He suspected that Santana, if she was here, was already asleep, but he was wrong. She was sitting on a stool around the kitchen island, still in her black dress, but her hair was undone and what was her impeccable bun was now a mess of hair tangled together. She was sipping a glass of wine, still looking straight forwards, not once looking in Blaine's direction. If she was so calmed, and collected, Blaine thought it was a good thing and began to speak.

''San,'' he murmured.

''Your stuff is over there,'' she said, with a shake to the head towards two garbage bags throwing ungraciously on the floor. Those bags, Blaine knew, was a symbol of the end of his long-time friendship with the Latina. He didn't only lose his boyfriend, but his dearest friend as well.

''San, please…'' he said in a trembling voice, his eyes shining with tears.

''I want you out.'' She started, standing up and facing him. ''Out of this loft, out of my life'' He knew her for a long time and knew that she won't change her mind and that the fire in her eyes was there to stay. She glared at him when he grabbed the bags slowly and tried not to look at her because the tears were ready to break free. She never saw him cry and it was today she's had the privilege to. He had no idea where to go from this point, but he knew he deserved her hostility; he just hurt the most amazing and kind-hearted boy he never met and Santana's protégé. What did he expect anyways? Going back there and Santana will welcome him with open arms?

He already received the cold shoulder by Mercedes once Kurt left at the party, so he didn't expect any warm from the cold Queen herself.

Once he turned his back without saying another word, Santana spoke again and this time, Blaine could hear her emotions behind her words. ''How could you do this?'' she said in a cold voice that betrayed her calm demeanor. He turned around, but didn't say anything; he had no words for what he had done.

With her heels, she was slightly taller than Blaine and she looked him down like she owned the place, like she had control; in a way, she did.

''You told me, those months ago, that you aren't interested in doing this pathetic little game. And I believed you.'' She said. ''I believed you!'' she yelled, tears welling in her eyes. ''You looked at me right in the eye and told me that Kurt wasn't the guy you picked for the game and, anyways, there was no game anymore. You looked me in the eye, Blaine, and you lied to me. You didn't even flinch!'' her breath was raspy at this point. ''I thought you were my best friend. I-I guess I was wrong.'' Her voice broke.

''You are my best friend, San,'' Blaine said in a broken voice, trying to tell her everything; how it was a game at first, then it wasn't anymore because he fell in love with the blue-eyed boy.

''And yet, you used my trust to play hide and seek with the busted fake model and her fucking cronies.'' She looked at him up and down, disgusted by what she saw. ''I thought you've changed,'' she softly said. ''But you are as immature and pathetic as ever! And now, you hurt the most precious thing that's ever happened to you in your fucking, pathetic, spoiled low-life,'' she sneered, and then her face softened. ''I was proud of you, then,''

''I know, okay?'' he said, containing his tears. ''And I hate myself.''

''You better hate yourself,'' she nodded in agreement. She turned her back on him. ''Now, get out. I don't even want to hear your excuses.'' He didn't plan on telling him excuses, even if what he wanted to say was the truth; she wouldn't believe him, anyways. ''Oh,'' she said as an afterthought when he was ready to step outside of the loft with an heavy heart. ''Don't plan on coming back here. I'm selling the loft.'' She said as she drank the last drop of her glass.

''Where are you going?'' he said, hurt by this declaration. As long as he knew her, she always lived in this loft. It was her cocoon.

''I'm quitting. I don't want to work for this fucked up family anymore,'' she shrugged.

''Oh…'' was all he said, his chin trembling but in the darkness, Santana couldn't see it. ''Wh-where are you going, then?''

''Somewhere far, far away from here.'' She only answered. ''Don't try to find me,'' with one last glare, she went to her bedroom, shutting the door with a loud bang and, at the same time, shutting her friendship out of her life for good.

Blaine walked out of the building, carrying his two bags. He didn't want to go back to the hotel; he didn't want to do anything with his siblings, his dad and Sebastian (who came back, just to see his relationship crumble into pieces.) When he made up his mind about going to an inn or even a motel, even though he never went to those before because he just wanted to be left alone, he saw a slick black limousine stationed near the building. A woman was leaning against the door, looking sadly and anxiously at him; it was his mom.

''Mom? What are you doing here?'' he said and realized how his voice sounded raspy. She signed and played with her hands; a nervous habit.

''I wanted to see if you were here… I didn't have the courage to go up there, though, but I saw you getting outside, so… an-anyways, I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving,'' his eyes went wide.

''No-Not you too, mom, I-I need you! You can't leave, too, where are you going?'' he asked desperately, trying to contain his frantic heart to burst out of his chest. It was like every person that counts in his life decided to leave him at the same time.

''Hey, hey, shh… I'm leaving your father and I need a break from your siblings,'' she sadly said. ''But I'm not leaving you; unless you want to.'' She looked at her son; he seemed lost and very anxious when he thought she was leaving him, too. ''Get in the car, honey,'' she gently said. ''We're leaving.''

Blaine frowned at her; he relaxed slightly, knowing that he won't be truly alone in a time where he really needed someone by his side. ''Where are we going?''

''We're going in Italy,'' she informed him and waited for a reaction.

''Tuscany…'' Blaine murmured as he was lost in memories. He remembered Tuscany; the last time he went here was when he was only five. The images were vague, very unclear. He knew that her mom bought this villa in Tuscany, Italy, because she always liked this country and said that her heart belonged there and her true love stayed there. He didn't really understand, at the time. But he went there a couple of summers and what he remembered the most was the fact that she only brought him there with no siblings and she always said that it was her bonding moment with him, as she had bonding moments with his other brothers and sister in other activities. Then, one year, it all stopped and he didn't know why. He never came back to Italy, after that. A vague figure of a smiling man was the last thing he remembered. ''We're going there?'' he asked, confused.

''Yes,'' Maggie said with a bright smile. ''Like old times,''

'But… I…'' he shook his head. ''I'd love to, but I need to go find Kurt. Do you know where he is? Is he with Rachel and Finn at the hotel? I have to explain everything to him and I…'' she gripped her shoulders and made him stop his rambling and shook her head lightly.

''He's in the plane, right now. He's going back to New York,''

''Then I have to go, too,'' he exclaimed.

''Blaine, honey, not right now. You're both hurt. You need to let the dust fall before you go and…''

''You don't understand!'' he yelled, stepping back from her mother.

''Yes, I understand because I've lost the love of my life and I won't let you do the same!'' she yelled back and Blaine knew that she didn't talk about Charles, but someone else. ''Try to understand, Blaine. You both need time; do it for him, please. Come in Italy with me. You need to think about yourself and think about where your life is heading.'' He calmed down at her words because he knew she was right. He needed to think rationally and will give Kurt the space he needed and when they were both ready, he was going to win back his heart and his trust. He couldn't do it if he was just a shadow of himself; he needed to reorganized his life and a trip in the beautiful countryside of Italy could do him good. As long as he knew that Kurt was doing alright in New York, he'll do it.

''Okay… yes. I need to give him some space…''

''And in the meantime, you need to tell me everything, young man,'' she said sternly but could see the relief in her eyes when Blaine agreed to go with her in Italy. Change will do him good. He'll be no good to Kurt or himself if he was going to barged into Kurt's apartment while he's still hurting. The dust needed to settle down on the hardwood floor.

-X-

The days passed, then weeks. It was now the end of September and the chilly breeze became more and more present in North America as the leaves changed to a beautiful orange, sometimes red, color. Kurt was miserable, but tried to hide it. He was on the cover of some magazines, saying how much of a humiliation he took from this party, but in New York, not a lot of people looked at him twice; maybe because he looked nothing like the covers. He was only a shadow of himself with bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He left the luxurious lifetime he grew to love to go back to his part-time job in a dirty restaurant (not the same as before, but as dirty as the last one) and to his apartment in Brooklyn; no one would suspect that the multi-billionaire's son dated that guy; it wasn't plausible, therefore, no one spared another look to this lost child in a busy New York street. And anyways, what Blaine Anderson did with him was now the last news in gossip magazines and he was relief to see that he wasn't in there anymore.

His father, Rachel, Finn, Carole; everyone tried to contact him and Rachel came to his apartment more than he'd like to count, just to ignore all of them. He told them that he was too busy; in a way, he was. He had to work really hard to pay the rent double when Rachel and Finn came to Europe and the apartment wasn't supervised. Also, he came back to school, redoing the semester of last spring and if he could, he would take extra shifts just to keep busy and for not thinking about him, or that night or the last summer.

It was over and done with. There's nothing he can do to change that. He cursed himself to be so stupid by falling in love with a guy he knew he had a bad reputation. He always said not to believe every crap you hear or read, and always believe the person, but he was wrong. He was just so naïve and like Blaine said countless of times, he was just so kind-hearted. It should've been a signal. But it hurt nonetheless.

He was practically a zombie when he first arrived in New York last year; it wasn't in his expectation. Rachel and Finn already had their life with their friends and he tried to find his place in this city; then, for once he thought something good was going to go his way when he decided to go in Switzerland. Now, in New York, he was even more of a zombie then before and his place was lost among those strangers who seemed so sure of where they belonged and most importantly, with whom.

Blaine played him since the beginning. His very first relationship was nothing but a joke and he wondered what he did so wrong to deserve such a punishment.

It was after another day of hard work at his diner that Kurt made his way to his apartment.

''Here's my boy!'' a deep voice said and Kurt turned around to see, no surprise there, Eddie, the homeless man that befriended Kurt since he arrived in New York last year. Kurt smiled brightly, all his worries forgotten for two seconds.

''Hey, Ed,'' he greeted the forty year old man. ''Are you hungry?'' at the mention of food, Eddie's dark eyes sparkled. Kurt handed him a sandwich wrapped up and two cookies that no, he didn't steal from the restaurant, but they wanted to throw them away and Kurt hated the wasted food.

''I tell you kid, I don't know what I'd do without ya,'' he said as he grabbed the items from Kurt. ''I really missed ya when you were livin' the big life in Europe,'' he joked.

''You just missed me bringing you food,'' Kurt said with a sad smile, trying not to think about his trip.

''Ya got me,'' the man shrugged, with a playful smile. He nodded at Kurt as he walked away at a slow pace, waving him goodbye.

Kurt always had to be careful when he walked (mostly the nights) alone in his neighborhood as it wasn't the safest place in the world, so he quicken his pace until he arrived at his building and because the elevator didn't work for over two weeks now, he needed to take the small stairs in a dimly lit corridor. You couldn't be claustrophobic when you lived in a place like this, or fat, either, even though one of his neighbor weigh more then he'd like to count and just by curiosity, Kurt looked in his garbage once when he put his own garbage next to his and there was more McDonald's packing than he'd dare to eat. Junk food was gross, anyways, as the chef in him told him countless of times.

He was ready to sleep, not hungry enough to eat and just sad enough to sleep and forget, when a bang echoed in his apartment. Arching an eyebrow and wondered who was on the other side of the door, he walked to the door, hoping it wasn't Rachel and her futile attempt to help him.

As he opened the door, he saw someone he didn't dare to see shortly, even though he wished she was there to listen and be there for him. Now, standing in front of him after a month of absence with a smirk, high heels and long black hair flowing graciously behind her back, was Santana Lopez.

''Hey Sweet Cheeks,'' she greeted a speechless Kurt. ''I now see what you mean when you said your place looks like a rat house.'' She said as she looked around herself, walked in uninvited.

''Santana? I… what are you doing here?'' he closed the door and looked at her with surprised, but teary eyes. Everyone could see that he was surprised, but he was relief and happy to see his friend here.

''Let's sit, we're going to chat,'' she said as she sit on his ratty couch. Santana looked critically at the state of the apartment and while it wasn't fancy and rather cheap, Kurt didn't know if he should feel perplex by her distaste. He went to the kitchen and came back with two steamy hot coffees. Santana ignored hers on the table and just crossed her arms over her chest and as Santana-like, she talked straight to the line, no harm feelings, no preamble.

''I want you to move in with me,'' she began and Kurt almost choked on his coffee. She didn't wait for him to interfere and continued. ''As I can see, you live in a hellhole of an apartment with holes to the ceiling,'' she looked up and scrunched her nose. ''Man, that's disgusting. Anyways, you deserve to get a move on with your life. Your neighbor is all fat and dirty people that can't do the difference between Shakespeare and Niki Minaj. And as a future Chef, you deserve better,'' she concluded, crossing one leg over the other, putting her hands on her knee, waiting for Kurt to respond.

''I… Santana,'' he shook his head, still trying to figure out how things ended up with Santana in New York. ''Can you… could you…'' he was still speechless, the determined expression on Santana's face making it hard for him to find the right words.

''Tell you the story since the beginning? Sure, if you have time to waste,'' she shrugged. ''When you left, I quitted my job.'' She heard a gasp, but ignored it. ''I postponed my new season and decided to spend some time in Mexico at my Nana's place. I sell the loft and meanwhile, as I was flirting with some hot Mexican meat, I searched for the perfect place in New York.'' She shrugged. ''I always wanted to work here, anyways. The restaurant business is good in New York. I…'' she took a deep breath and that was when she started talking more seriously. ''I always said I was doing it for myself, but the truth is, it was a bit for you, too. If I didn't care for you, I would have still my job under Charles' watch. Or I wouldn't be looking for a new loft with place for two.'' She took his pale hand in hers. ''I can't believe I come so close to a person in only a few months, but it happened.'' Kurt was touched by what he just heard and was breathless.

''How did you find me?'' he asked gently.

''Rachel told me. I scared the secretary at NYADA to give me Rachel's number,'' she said with a smirk. ''And as I'm a…''

''Renowned chef it helps a lot, I know, I know,'' Kurt joked his friend.

''When you're going to be as successful as I am, you'll use that line.'' She winked. ''Now… would you live with me?'' When she sense Kurt hesitating, she continued. ''Come on, Kurt. I want to help you. You're miserable, here. Why Rachel and Finn can have a cute little apartment near their school when you can't even have that and live so far away from your school and your job? Not to mention how not cute this place is '' she said with distaste.

''Because Rachel's daddies are paying,'' he said, rolling his eyes like it was obvious.

''And Santana's paying.''

''I don't want your charity,'' he said firmly.

''It's not, though. It's just like you lived in the loft with me and Bl… well, you know what I mean,'' she said lamely after she almost said the B-word. She was just so occupied this past month, trying to think about what she really wanted to do, and then finding the perfect loft just to find an excuse not to think about Blaine and his betrayal. ''I just want you to be okay again,'' she softly said. ''As long as you go to school and concentrate on that, the rest doesn't matter,'' and it really didn't matter. If Kurt really wanted to pay, she wouldn't have that.

Kurt looked on the floor, now lost in memories.

''I'm Blaine, by the way.''

''I'm Kurt,''

''A beautiful name for a beautiful person,''

''I will never hurt you, you know that, right?''

''You are too kind, Kurt,''

''This scarf will brings out the color of your eyes,''

''I love you…''

''I will never hurt you, you know that, right?

''Right?''

Kurt now looked at Santana's concern face and a tear trailed down his pale cheek and in a minute, his face scrunched up and heavy sobs was heard. Santana hugged him, trying her best to shush his friend.

''Why did he had to do this to me?'' he asked shakily and unfortunately for him, Santana had no answers. Blaine hurt her too, but not as much as Kurt as his heart was being crushed by him. ''He never loved m-me. He was u-using me to entertain his brothers.'' He sniffled, but his tears were still hot and fat on his cheeks. It's been a month and I'm still a mess. As hard as I work and try to forget it, it still haunts me. He haunts me, he haunts m-my dreams and I'm so, so tired, San…''

''Shh… I know, I know,'' she said as she rocked her friend.

''I loved him. I still do,'' he said in a cracked voice. ''A-and the humiliation. Did-did he really had to do th-this?'' he asked brokenly. The sex tape was all over the internet after the party. Magazines had fun saying that it was another stunt from Blaine Anderson and the party goer did a comeback. Fortunately, the video was relatively dark because of the theater, but it was clearly two people fucking their brains out. After a month, people slowly lose interest over this video, in part because Blaine had disappear around the social media and so didn't do any other scandal and no one knew where the fabulously boyfriend ended up. Kurt kept a low profile since he came back and it wasn't in this neighborhood that he would be recognized by people. Burt had called him on multiple occasions, not believing what his son really was involved in Europe and tried to go to New York but Kurt, not wanting to deal with that, told him that if he ended up in New York, he will escape again. Burt didn't try anything, but tried to keep a close eye on him by Finn or by phone. He didn't like it one bit that his own son had a sex tape travelling like that on the net.

It was as worse as Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian's sex tape, but the different is that he didn't scream it to the world, nor did he want to be famous because of that.

''More reason to come stay with me,'' Santana tried to reason with him. ''It would do you good and we're going to get through this together. You'll see,'' Santana said as she continued to comfort her upset friend. After a few minutes, Kurt's cries ended and he hiccupped and wiped his tears with his sleeve.

''I'm sorry. God… I'm a mess,'' he said as he smiled nervously, still wiping his eyes. ''I… I had a hard day and I…''

''I understand,'' Santana quickly said. ''Are you okay?'' Kurt shrugged and knew he could start crying anytime soon. He shook his head, sniffled.

''I miss him, San.'' He said. ''So very much… but he doesn't care about me,'' Santana wanted to argue about that, telling him how wrong he was, but in the end, she knew, as well as Kurt, what Blaine did wrong and that it couldn't be overlooked by her love for Blaine. No, he betrayed him and betrayed Santana when he said he wasn't doing the game. He didn't deserve forgiveness or Kurt's love.

Santana didn't say anything; what can she say? You're wrong; he loves you just as much. It doesn't work like that and Blaine got what he deserved, Santana thought. He lost Kurt, the only boy who truly loved him for him and he played Kurt and used him like he was nothing but a prize to gain under the watchful eye of his brothers.

''I can do the best chocolate pudding Chômeur that you'll ever taste. When it's still warm and you eat it with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream, I can assure you that you're going to feel better,'' Santana said kindly as she squeezed Kurt's knee. He gave her a watery smile at her attempt to make him smile again. ''It always comfort me,'' she shrugged. ''Let's go home,'' she said as he stand up, taking Kurt's hand in hers. That night, they packed Kurt's previous year in a few boxes, and they moved in a comfortable silence, only breaking a few times by Kurt's quiet sniffles. At the end of the evening, Kurt felt better as he packed his things and folded his fashionable clothing and not so fashionable ones carefully and he was happy that for once since over a month, things were looking good.

''So, where's your loft?'' Kurt asked as they stepped out of the apartment. He was going to deal with this apartment in due time with the landlord, but right now, he just wanted to flee this place.

''In Manhattan, of course,'' she said as she beamed at him and yes, Kurt thought, it was obvious that Santana Lopez was staying in the richest borough of New York. ''And it's our loft, now,''