Author's Note: Hey guys, so I know it's been a super long time since I've updated anything, but I have a reason and an important explanation. So, I'm going to try and be brief but basically I'm in the process of directing a performance of The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, trying to save my towns local drama club from being disbanded, and acting in a play myself. So, yea, I've been super duper busy. Since I'm going to be busy for a while, updates are probably going to be not as often. Sorry. : ( other than that, enjoy. : )

Also, the misspellings in Kurt's dialogue are on purpose. I'm aware that awesome isn't spelled awesum.

Don't own Glee either. If I did, Dave would be out of the closet by now, and Blaine would've been in New Directions by the Born this Way episode.

January Junior Year

Blaine, Kurt, Walt, Burt, Carole, Finn, Rachel, Jesse, and Wallace all watched as the shining crystal ball moved up tower, a digital clock giving the exact countdown. Five more minutes until 2015. All the couples were snuggled up together, waiting excitedly for their midnight kiss, while the two singles (Finn and Walt) sulked on the floor with the dog.

Walt had officially moved in since the semester had just ended, and he was adjusting pretty well to New York. The only thing that he wasn't adjusting well to was how thin the walls were. Basically, he learned that some nights it was best to sleep with headphones on, even if that did give him a headache.

One of the musical theater people started humming "Happy New Year" from Rent, which quickly turned into a cheer of "It's gonna be a happy new year!" from Blaine. That song had been circulating through everyone that night, all with the hope that it really was going to be a happy new year. By this time next year, Kurt, Walt, and Rachel would be on their last semester of college. Blaine still had an extra year because of his major change, but he was happy. Sure, most of his marital issues centered around him playing the trombone at 3 in the morning, but it was worth it. He'd never been happier.

Kurt's head lulled back against the cushion of the couch, feeling heavier than usual since he'd had just a few too many jello shots and didn't have the best alcohol tolerance. He probably wouldn't remember this New Year when he woke up tomorrow and he was actually ok with that. Blaine could remind him, since Blaine still was under drinking age.

Walt and Finn stopped sulking and started pouring champagne for everyone, putting a little extra into their own glasses. "20... 19… 18… 17…" Blaine started counting, sitting up with anticipation. "16… 15… 14… 13…"

"Why are you counting?" Kurt asked, rubbing his head. Woops, he forgot it was new years. Yea, too many jello shots. Burt and Carole rolled their eyes at Kurt, even though Burt knew he use to be that bad when he was younger and would get drunk.

"Because it's almost the new year," Blaine said patiently. Kurt nodded towards Blaine, pretending like he totally remembered. "3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Blaine cheered, grabbing a glass of champagne and clinking all the glasses and downing it. Everyone has their favorite holiday, and this just happens to be his since he started hated Valentines Day (stupid Jeremiah).

The rest of the night involved Burt and Carole going to bed right after the ball dropped and everyone but Blaine getting ridiculously drunk. Even Wallace got some champagne poured into his bowl. Blaine sighed as he watched Kurt, Finn, and Walt bumping and grinding in the middle of the living room to music that wasn't even playing. This must be how Kurt felt at that Rachel Berry party so long ago.

"Alright Kurt, let's get you to bed before you end up having sex with your step brother," Blaine said in a fatherly tone, grabbing Kurt by his shirt collar.

"Whaaa?" Kurt slurred, squinting at Blaine. "What the fuck is Harry Potter doing here?" Blaine snickered, still tugging Kurt along. "You know, when I was a horny little freshman, I-I use to has these awesum dreams bout Arry Potta. Dey usally appened ona broomstick."

Blaine just laughed while he pulled the stumbling Kurt into their room. Maybe looking like Harry Potter would work out in his favor tonight. "You know Kurt, I think we could make that-" Blaine was cut off by light snoring coming from their bed. Kurt was passed out, slobbering all over Blaine's pillow and hugging his own pillow like a doll. "Maybe not," he muttered, walking back into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He paused on his way back, hearing something.

"Dave is such a douche," Walt whispered from the living room.

"Yea, I'm so over Rachel," Finn also whispered after taking a deep breath. Blaine walked quietly into the living room and found Finn and Walt making out on the couch. Whoa, ok, they were super drunk.

"Hey, uh, guys?" Blaine coughed nervously. Instead of jumping off each other guiltily, they just kept making out. "Guys?" Blaine gave up. They both were grown ass men. If they wanted to make out, then whatever. He was going to go lie in bed and consider how one would manage to have sex on a broomstick.

"This is pathetic," Dave muttered to himself while he sat in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling. It was New Years and he was sitting in his dorm room, alone. He had nothing else to do though. He was still underage so he couldn't go drinking. He didn't really have any close friends to celebrate with… "That's it!"

Dave pulled himself out of bed and went over to his closet, picking out a black button up and a pair of white jeans that Walt had begged him to buy when they went shopping once. He threw on his outfit and headed out to The Red Umbrella, a gay bar that he'd heard about.

He didn't know what possessed him to come here, but as soon as he walked in he regretted it. It was like most other bars or clubs, full of drunk people acting skanky and trying to get laid. Dave just walked around, scoping out the guys, but after five minutes just felt really uncomfortable and left.

"Hey fag!" some person yelled from the sidewalk Dave was on. He froze, surprised since no one had actually called him that before. "Yea, I'm talking to you homo!" Dave was instantly pissed off, and flashed into Karofsky in an instant. He whipped around and grabbed the guy (who was considerably smaller than him) by the collar of he shirt and punched him square in the jaw.

"I am not a fag! Anyone who tells you that is full of shit!" Karofsky yelled, kicking the guy for emphasis. The smaller guy looked up at Karofsky, brushing the hair out of his blue eyes that were full of fear. Karofsky could remember getting those looks from similar colored eyes, and suddenly didn't know what to do. He looked around, not seeing any witnesses, and ran back to his dorm, not daring to stop for even a second to catch his breath.

He threw himself into his dorm room, slamming the door behind him, and just stood there in shock. What was that? He hadn't thought like that in such a long time, he thought that part of him had long died. He shook his head, sitting down on the bed, lyrics haunting his brain.

"You're afraid to admit. That for once you actually give a shit. You don't want to own up to the fact. That your armor's been cracked. You want to keep running. Singing so loud while your truck is gunning. But if you keep it up, you'll never see. Just who you're supposed to be."

Karofsky took a deep breath and walked over to his desk, ripping a piece of paper out of a notebook. There was only one way to get rid of this part of him forever, and that was to set it free for good.

Fear

By Dave Karofsky

Fear is a shadowy hand, suffocating you while you sleep and waking you in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

Fear is the grey flash in the bright blue eyes of the stick boy being shoved against a locker.

Fear is being asked about your biggest secret.

Fear is being told you have no future.

Fear is when you agree.

Fear is going off to a new school.

Fear is becoming overly attached to someone, knowing that it won't last forever.

Fear is running as far away as you can from the thing you love the most.

Fear is the taste in your mouth after you say goodbye after they packed their bags.

Fear is waking up in the middle of the night and realizing you're alone.

Fear is spending New Years by yourself.

Dave knew it wasn't anything that would win any kind of award, but it said what he needed to say. He'd resorted back to Karofsky because, for the first time since high school, he was afraid.