Chapter 29 – The Monster - Part II


Songs in this chapter:

Another Day – Rent the Musical

Cuckoo - Adam Lambert

Better Than I Know Myself – Adam Lambert


Hi everyone! This chapter is out of control long, sorry about that. Also, I tried something different. So this isn't Kurt's or Blaine's POV as per usual, but rather Genius' and Chandler's POV. I hope you like it. I sure had fun writing this.


Genius' POV

Genius checked his phone every minute. It was a nervous habit in public. Usually he did so to appear like he was busy texting with friends to keep actual people from approaching him. But since he had made a special online friend a few weeks ago, he actually received text messages frequently and he was disappointed when he didn't get one.

"I can take a cab home by myself," Kurt, standing next to him, said stiffly. "I don't need you or anyone to feel responsible for me."

Genius stuffed his phone back into his coat pocket. "Sorry, but I'm not letting you out of my sight tonight," Genius argued. "Not with those drugs in your system. I don't want to read bad news in the paper tomorrow."

"Andrew didn't drug me," Kurt was still in denial. "I told you I react weirdly to alcohol."

"All right, if that's what you want to tell yourself," Genius shrugged. "But I'm going to tell you something once we're at my place. You may think differently then."

Genius sighed when he saw that Kurt had loosened his scarf, although the wind in the street was freezing. He grabbed the ends of the scarf and pulled them firmly around Kurt's neck. "Do you want to catch a cold?"

"Stop treating me like a child," Kurt huffed and swatted at Genius' hands.

"I can't help it when I see someone being reckless with their health," Genius replied angrily. "It's a habit. I was a nanny for French kids."

"I liked you better when you were a solitary egomaniac," Kurt said, tugging at his scarf.

"Believe me, I tried not to care about you," Genius assured him. "But you make it freaking hard. Being so foolish all of the time. Come on, the next cab is ours."

Finally a cab stopped and they got inside, sharing the backseat, and Genius told the driver his address, wondering if it was a good idea to take Kurt with him. It seemed a hell of a responsibility to look after him tonight. Still high on the drugs Andrew gave him, Kurt was wide awake, he couldn't sit still. His knees were bouncing restlessly and he opened his scarf and coat. It would be hours before Kurt would be calm enough to settle for the night. Genius stifled a yawn behind his hand.

"Can't we go back?" Kurt pleaded, his hands running up and down his thighs. "I just want to dance some more. It was so much fun. Why did we have to leave? Can't we turn around?"

"The night is over for you, my friend," Genius replied strictly. No way was he going to let Kurt go back to Babylon and back into Andrew's arms tonight. He knew the appeal of a gay bar. Even if he wasn't high, being surrounded by hot flesh on the dance floor, so many gay men bumping into him, was an amazing feeling, addictive even. It was the reason why Genius went there. Some anonymous contact to the only species of men he could trust in the world. Gay men. Even if he didn't trust them with his body or even his heart, he felt secure in their company. As long as there weren't the bad wolves in sheep's clothing around. Genius could distinguish them from the crowd immediately, because he was a cynical and critical non-believer. Kurt on the other hand was too innocent and trusting.

Kurt banged his head against the head rest. "Will you finally tell me what's your musical?" he pleaded, clearly in need of distraction.

Genius was willing to grant it to him. "Another day," Genius tilted his head towards Kurt.

"No, tell me now!" Kurt insisted in a cute whiny voice.

Genius grinned. "That was a hint, darling."

"I don't get it," Kurt complained.

"Another Day is one of my favorite songs from the musical," Genius explained. When Kurt still sported that clueless expression, Genius started singing.

"Another time, another place
Our temperature would climb, there'd be a long embrace
Looking for romance? Come back another day
Another day!"

Kurt sat up, intrigued. He seemed to recognize the lyrics, but his mind still couldn't grasp which musical it was. But he was amazed that he knew the song and he instantly joined Genius in song.

"The heart may freeze
Or it can burn
The pain will ease
If I can learn

There is no future
There is no past
I live this moment
As my last!"

Genius lowered his voice the moment Kurt really got into it. Genius was impressed. Kurt's voice was definitely skilled, even as Kurt bellowed the lyrics out on the top of his lungs. This kid was talented.

„There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss

No other road
No other way
No day but today

There's only yes
Only tonight
We must let go
To know what's right

My only goal is just to be
Just let me be

There's only now, there's only here
Give in to love or live in fear!"

Genius applauded his friend more enthusiastically than he usually would have when he noticed that their driver wasn't impressed by Kurt's impromptu performance at all. In fact, the man gave them an eye roll over the rearview mirror. It made Genius angry to be judged. "Stick your eyes on the road, will you?" he barked at their driver who didn't respond.

"I love this song!" Kurt cried out, happy and frustrated that he still couldn't catch the name of the musical. It was at the tip of his tongue. "What musical is it? Tell me, please."

"It's Rent," Genius said, smiling at how freaking cute Kurt was behaving, and profoundly relieved that Andrew didn't get to see Kurt this way. Or another.

"Rent! Yes! Of course!"

"My sister says I'm obsessed with it," Genius admitted. "I've seen it twice on Broadway, back when it was still running. Sometimes I listen to the score all day long."

"It's amazing! I love it! I love it sooo much!" Kurt said over and over again. His enthusiasm was contagious. Genius didn't often get the opportunity to share his favorite things with people. He usually kept his guilty pleasures to himself.

He noticed how Kurt's hands were still twitching and stroking restlessly up and down his thighs, his nails occasionally digging into his trousers. Genius reached over and cupped his hand over Kurt's and squeezed, as if he wanted to provide an anchor for Kurt to hold on to.

It was a gesture that took Kurt by surprise. He turned his hand to thread his fingers through the other man's and from one moment to the next Kurt felt a overwhelming desperation, as if the world had abandoned him and he would fall into oblivion if he let go of this one last hand holding his own.

"Please don't leave me," he murmured, pleading.

The plea caught Genius off guard. It startled him to be met with the simple yet profound request for company and he didn't know how to react. He quickly recovered, however, remembering that Kurt was still high and probably didn't mean it as desperately as he made it sound. So Genius just gave him a look, half annoyed, half reassuring. "I told you I'm not going to let you out of my sight tonight, okay, K?"

Kurt nodded fiercely and tightened his grip on the other's hand.

"Ouch! Don't break my hand. I still need it," Genius complained, but he didn't let go. It was kind of nice to be holding someone's hand.

This notion quickly changed, however, when he saw the look in Kurt's eye change from needy and adorable to that certain glint that was pure and unmistaken desire. Kurt leaned over the seat and their mouths crashed together. Genius let out a surprised noise. He pushed Kurt gently at arm's length, gasping for air. "Bad idea, Kurt, very bad. You don't actually want to kiss me," Genius said like he was talking to a child. "It's just the drugs making you do things."

Kurt was too much in a haze to care. He scooted closer towards his peer whereas Genius backed away until he was pushed back against the door's window. "You'll be the one who's going to be embarrassed tomorrow," Genius warned him, but Kurt kissed him again anyway.

"Oh, what the hell," Genius murmured and put an arm around Kurt. "I will kiss you if it's helping you get back to normal."

Kurt leaned into his peer, while trying to get out of his coat and simulateously getting Genius' coat off, too.

"Keep your hands to yourself," Genius protested when Kurt started pawing at him, regardless of their one-man-audience.

Genius was rescued by arriving at their destination point. The driver hit the brakes hard and made them almost fall off the bench.

"That'll be thirty bucks," he called over.

"Thirty bucks?" Genius protested loudly. "I never pay thirty bucks home from Babylon and I certainly don't give you a tip for gawking at us like you've never seen gay men before."

"Not so much a fan of drag queens," their driver replied, nonchalantly chewing his gum. "But shouldn't you be wearing wigs?"

"Fuck you!" Genius threw a few dollar bills into the front and opened his door, pulling Kurt out behind him.

"I hate when people make stupid drag queen jokes. I'm not a drag queen!" Genius vented angrily. "God, I hate it when people look at me like they want to ask me if I fell into a freaking bucket of paint."

"Well, it's not common for a guy to wear so much make-up," Kurt replied.

"I don't care about what's common or not. I'm not a common person. I don't want to be a common person. But I hate being judged all of the time! No one is allowed to freaking judge me! I can do with my face whatever the fuck I want."

Genius went on ranting when he realized Kurt wasn't following him anymore. "This way, K."

"Where are we going?" Kurt didn't recognize the neighborhood. "I don't live here."

"My, aren't we forgetful," Genius linked arms with Kurt to keep him by his side. "This is my home, silly. You're staying the night. I don't want you to call Andrew and ask him for a hook-up."

"Why would I want to do that?" Kurt asked indignantly.

"Because you're totally messed up in your head right now," Genius took a closer look at Kurt, contemplating whether or not he should bring him to a hospital. But he figured there was no need to pull attention to Kurt's condition and still being a minor his parents would be contacted by the hospital staff and Genius didn't think that Kurt would like that.

"How old are you anyway?"

"Twenty," Kurt answered cautiously as if wondering why this was important right now.

"Okay," Genius said, fumbling with his keys. "Just so we're clear: No more kissing, okay? If you need to let off steam you should stick to the singing. You have quite a fabulously loud voice and I can turn up the volume for you. My neighbors are used to it."

"Okay," Kurt followed Genius into an apartment building and upstairs. Genius opened a door at the fifth floor, flicked on the lights and motioned for Kurt to come inside. "This is my little refudge. Nothing fancy, but I like it. No roommate, that's the best part."

His studio apartment was very small, just a tiny bedroom, a tiny kitchenette sharing space with the living room and an even tinier bathroom with a shower cubicle. Everything was neat and tidy, although the small space was cramped with stuff.

Genius kicked off his combat boots and shrugged out of his military jacket. He was nervous. He never had visitors. He didn't even invite his sister into his apartment. For the three months he had lived in New York so far, no one except for him (and the plumber guy due to a very disgusting blockage in the first week) had stepped over the threshold yet. He was told not to throw moist towlettes into the toilet and the plumber was told to get the hell out - after the problem was fixed, of course.

Genius figured there was nothing to be nervous about since Kurt was high and would probably not remember anything by tomorrow anyway. Still, Genius was an incredibly private person and letting someone into his home was a big deal for him. He had had long conversations, well, chats about it with his online friend who challenged him to start trusting in the people around him and open up a little.

I hate to think that you're lonely, his friend who logged in as Special K would text. I want you to open up to the possibility to meet amazing people while you're in Paris.

Yes, Genius had lied to his online friend about his location. But when his online friend had told him that he currently lived in New York, Genius was too freaked out about a request to meet in person, so he was pretending to still live in Paris. After all, everybody lied on the internet, didn't they? On the other hand, Genius had never been as honest with somebody as he had been with this guy so far. He had discovered how easy it was to open up to someone who you don't know on a face to face basis.

Genius tapped a quick text to Special K: Night of firsts. I'm taking a friend home. Good thing he's high, so my shithole of a place probably looks like a fancy penthouse to him.

In response he received a row of happy smileys and thumbs-ups. I'm happy for you! Night of firsts over here, too! I'm at a party in an actual penthouse! It's amazing! - Special K

"These are really nice," Kurt said admiringly.

Genius looked up to find that Kurt had discovered his unfinished quilts and let his fingers glide over the fabric. On the couch were two different quilts in different states of completion and a basket full of colorful fabrics to use on them.

"I love quilting," Genius felt the need to explain. "It kind of calms me down. Also, I just can't throw fabrics away." He gathered the unfinished quilts and throw pillows off the couch and put them into the basket. "You can sleep on the couch. I'll get you fresh linen and a pillow."

"I can still go home," Kurt said, clearly feeling like an intruder.

"You're welcome to stay," Genius said. "That is, as long as you stay away from my stuff. How are you feeling?" He came over and put his hand on Kurt's forehead. "You still seem feverish."

"I'm dizzy," Kurt said, swaying on the spot.

"It'll pass," Genius said, pinching Kurt's chin. "Sit down. Drink lots of water."

He gave Kurt a bottle of Evian out of the refrigerator and Kurt drank it greedily, but he didn't sit down. He was too restless and needed to move around.

Genius put some music on. Kurt instantly recognized it was the soundtrack of Rent. There was a big promotion poster of Rent on the door. A collection of playbills on a cupboard caught Kurt's eye. "You do go to see shows!" he exclaimed.

"Yes. I never said I didn't. Just because Rent is the only musical I love doesn't mean I don't try to find something else that might excite me. So far nothing did. There's nothing like the naked ugly truth and hardships in Rent."

"And love," Kurt added. "It's also about love. Gay lovers even."

"Of course, you'd be the kind of guy to believe in love," Genius sat on the arm of his couch. "That's really sweet. Try not to lose that."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Kurt asked out of nowhere.

"Because you're not nice to yourself and someone should be," Genius replied matter-of-factly. "If you don't love yourself, nobody will."

Tears stung in Kurt's eyes, and Genius kindly pretended not to see them.

Kurt continued to pace up and down the tiny living room. "I don't need a boyfriend," Kurt said eventually while dusting the shelf with one finger.

"Of course you don't," Genius agreed whole-heartedly. "Look at me, I live for my passion only. All I can think of all day long is to create the perfect outfit. You don't need anybody, but yourself."

Kurt closed his eyes and started swaying to Light My Candle.

"But the thing is sometimes you want someone," Genius continued. "From what I gather, you want this guy, Blaine, right? You were boyfriends once, but distance tore you apart and now you feel like you're hanging on to the past when really the past is still your presence, because you still want him. And honestly, I think he's a better fit than Andrew for you."

Kurt draped his arms over his head, slowly dancing to the song with his eyes still closed.

Genius wasn't sure if Kurt was even listening. He was just glad that Andrew didn't get to see Kurt like this tonight. Kurt was one of those guys who were incredibly hot when they were just dancing innocently in the living room. Andrew would have a nosebleed by now. Kurt wasn't Genius' type, but he was able to acknowledge the appeal of a person.

"I've always been an independent person," Kurt finally said. "I was used to going it alone, until I met Blaine. I fell in love with him, because I fell in love with the idea of someone understanding the daily struggle of being different. Finally I had someone to share my feelings with. That's what I miss the most, I think. Have you ever been in love, Emmett?"

Genius let Kurt's use of his real name pass.

"No, never," Genius confessed. "I've always been too busy hating myself to be able to look around for love."

Kurt gave him a disbelieving look. Genius was aware that he came across as the kind of vain person who loved himself above everything. Before he could argue the point, Genius went on, "Besides, I'm very choosey. I need everything to be perfect. It's obsessive. I push myself to be the best I impossibly can be. I couldn't be with someone who's not like that, someone sloppy or untidy and careless. I'd be a hell of a boyfriend. I'd criticize them and order them around. That's why I can't even have a roommate. I have very rigid rituals."

"Me, too!" Kurt said, too loud and too excited. "I have this nightly moisturizer routine. My idea of a sexy saturday night with my boyfriend was having rigorous skin sloughing regimes over the phone together."

"Sounds hot to me," Genius said, laughing.

"That was before we started having sex, though. After that everything changed."

"How so?" Genius had never been in a relationship before, so he wouldn't know.

"I didn't worry about the little things anymore," Kurt said with a shrug. "Like, who cares about a zit on your chin when the guy you love saw you naked? Okay, I still worried about zits and it bothered me that Blaine neglected his skin care. So I slipped bronzener in his lotion and we had a huge fight about that. I still think he looks good with a little color, though."

Genius made a noncommittal noise.

Kurt was still bouncy and danced over to the stereo. "Is it okay to turn up the volume?"

"Sure," Genius allowed. "I usually turn it up to drown out the noise of my neighbours."

Out Tonight came on and Kurt jumped and danced wildly across the room. "Take me ouuuuut tonight!" He grabbed Genius's arm to get him to join him. Genius half-heartedly danced with him, just to animate Kurt to dance off the drugs in his blood.

"I'm sorry I kissed you in the cab," Kurt shouted over the music. "I have a history with unwanted kisses. I shouldn't have done that."

"Don't worry. It was fun to piss off the driver," Genius grinned. "Anyway, you'd better be sorry you kissed Andrew."

"Did I really?" Kurt looked mortified. "It's all a blur. I remember kissing someone on the dance floor."

"It was Andrew," Genius assured him, while dancing around the couch.

"Shit. It'll just get his hopes up," Kurt tore at his hair. "I don't want him to think that we could get back together."

"Then why did you dance with him?" Genius let out a sharp breath of disapproval.

"Why did you insist to take me to Babylon?" Kurt asked, angry all of a sudden, as if it was Genius' fault that Kurt had made out with Andrew.

"You had agreed to let him drive you home," Genius stated. "You were about to get in a car with a definite pervert and possible rapist. I couldn't let that happen."

Kurt shook his head. "You're wrong about him. He wouldn't take advantage of me."

"If you say so," Genius shrugged.

"I know so," Kurt shot back fiercely.

"Well, if you knew what I know about him then you wouldn't be so quick to defend him," Genius said airily, waving his fingers.

"I don't want to hear about it. Why should I believe a word you say to me anyway? Andrew told me that you hated me," Kurt blurted out.

Genius shrugged again. "I hate everyone."

"He said you're out to destroy me."

"Funny. He said the same thing about you!" Genius laughed. "What do you expect from an excessive liar?"

"He was my boyfriend!" Kurt barked. "I think I know him better than you do."

"You only know what he wants you to know about him," Genius stated.

Kurt shook his head again. "I don't want to talk about Andrew," Kurt blocked off.

"Good, because every word about him is a waste of breath," Genius agreed. He took Kurt by the shoulders and pushed him towards the bathroom. "Go and take a shower," Genius told him. "It'll clear your head. You can use my toiletries, but don't touch my make-up. I repeat: do not touch my make-up."

"Why would I touch your make-up?"

"Believe me, everybody feels the urge to play with make-up when they are faced with it."

Genius inhaled deeply after he closed the door. It was so weird having someone in his apartment. He sat on his couch to catch his thoughts for a moment, closing his eyes and listening to the chorus of Will I, letting the music soothe him.

Holy crap, the situation was more serious than he had thought. Kurt was seriously messed up if he actually defended Andrew. Genius got his phone and texted the only person who always had good advice for any fucked up situation. Genius had no clue where Special K took his knowledge from, but he always had an answer to any difficult question: Help! Here's the thing: my friend is defending his shitty ex who just drugged and most possibly wanted to rape him. What do I do?

His phone rang with a text mere seconds later: OMG! Don't let him out of your sight! Abusive exes are the worst! - Special K

Something weird broke through the foundation on Genius' face: a genuine smile. After all these weeks of texting and online chatting he was still amazed that his new friend would always reply to him within an instant. Special K would never get bored of him or ignore him. Whenever Genius felt lonely he could count on his online friend to be around and cheer him up. It made Genius very happy, yet at the same time he felt like crying. It made him realize that he was so lonely that he sought the company of a stranger on the internet.

Genius replied to Special K: What would you know about abusive exes? I hope no first hand experience.

He got a quick response: I would need an ex to have first hand experience with an ex. XD – Special K

Right. One of the things that had Genius bond with his online friend was that he also never had had a relationship before.

Genius got up to check his refrigerator in search of anything to eat to offer to Kurt when there was a continued pinging noise coming from Kurt's phone. Genius couldn't help being curious who was texting Kurt. He figured if he let the kid crash at his place, he was allowed to check what kind of people he had contact with. In case it was Andrew texting him, Genius would delete every single message, so Kurt wouldn't have to. He picked up Kurt's coat and fished the phone out of its pocket. To his relief it wasn't Andrew, but some guy called Chandler. Probably one of Kurt's best friends.

Congrats on your win! Blaine just told me! Btw Elliott's party is amazing! Why didn't you come? - Chandler

Genius frowned. Apparently Kurt had been offered to go to a party. Why the hell had he chosen to get drunk on champagne with Andrew instead? Another message popped up just as Genius studied Kurt's phone.

Anyway, I hope you have a nice and relaxing night at home. Talk to you tomorrow! So much to tell! - Chandler

Genius own phone beeped with another text: A friend of mine was in an abusive relationship. His ex threatened me a couple times too. It was terrifying. - Special K

Genius put on water for tea and looked for the cookies his sister had brought him. He figured cookies were better than nothing on an empty stomach.

"You all right in there?" he knocked at the bathroom door and heard the water splash and Kurt singing loudly. Apparently he had caught on to Another Day. There was hope after all.

Just when Genius went back to search his cupboards for cookies, Kurt's phone rang. This time it wasn't a text, but a call. Genius checked the caller ID which read Carole. Whoever this girl or woman was, Genius figured it couldn't hurt to make a joke by answering the phone in French.

"Bonjour, vous êtes bien sur le téléphone de Kurt Hummel. Veuillez patienter le temps qu'il prenne une agréable douche."

"Hello? What's going on?" a male voice answered, confused. "Who is this?"

Genius remained quiet for a moment, baffled by the unexpected voice of a man.

"Hello?" the man inquired. "Kurt, is that you?"

"I'm sorry, I expected a woman, because this phone says your name is Carole," Genius replied confused.

A baffled silence, then a heartfelt laugh. "I'm glad you can talk English, kid. This is my wife's phone, because my battery is low. Who are you?"

"I'm Emmett," Genius said, not feeling like revealing his alter ego when confronted with a grown-up and straight man. He didn't want to be ridiculed by a stranger on the phone tonight. "And I still don't know who you are and why you're calling Kurt at this hour."

"I'm Burt Hummel. I'm Kurt's dad. Can you pass him the phone, please?"

"Seriously? Burt? You named your son Kurt?" Genius was thrown back. "Were you high or something? Did you lose a drunken bet? At least you changed one letter. Thank God for that, I mean, Burt junior would have been too much."

"Emmett, would you focus for a second, please? Where's Kurt?" Burt sounded a bit impatient now.

"He's in the shower," Genius replied. "What's the emergency? Do I need to get him for you?"

"There's no emergency. See, we have these daily phone dates and-"

"Why don't you just call again tomorrow? Have you checked the time? It's after midnight." Apparently Kurt's father was a control freak which is what pissed Genius off big time.

"I'd rather you put Kurt on the phone now. I want to know where he is."

"Relax. He's at my place. I'm his new lover. You got a problem with that?" Irritating straight guys was always Genius' favorite past time.

"Are you? Since when are you together?" The man sounded amused and highly suspicious of another prank, but not shocked by the statement itself.

"We just hooked up," Genius replied nonchalantly. "What did you say his name was? Kurt? I gotta write that down."

"Very funny," Burt replied with a snort, indicating he wasn't falling for this nonsense. "My son doesn't do hook-ups."

"Are you sure about that? He's gay and gay dudes are promiscuous," Genius teased.

"My kid would never throw himself around," Burt replied, sounding pretty damn sure about it.

"He's hardly a kid anymore," Genius argued. "And he doesn't need you to control his life."

Again there was a silence at the end of the line and for a moment Genius was afraid that he had overstepped boundaries. He didn't mind doing so if it was about his own life, and he wasn't afraid of interfering if it was to protect someone else. But he didn't know anything about Kurt's relationship to his parents. As always he was projecting his own bad experiences to everyone else's lives.

"You're right," Kurt's father agreed. "Maybe I am seeing ghosts where there are none. But I really need to speak to my son now. I won't be able to sleep if I don't hear him say that he's all right, okay?"

Genius was taken aback. The man was actually pleading with him. That was a first.

"I'll see what I can do," Genius said, going over to the bathroom. "But it's your fault if he's mad at me for seeing him naked."

"I thought you just did the nasty with him moments ago," Burt said jokingly. "Did you do it in the dark?"

"Very funny," Genius gave a snort. "You don't believe my bullshit anyway, so I don't have to keep the story straight, right? I'm going to see if he wants to talk to you." Genius knocked at the bathroom door. "KURT! Here's a man on the phone claiming to be your dad, but your caller ID says his name's Carole. Unless your father's a drag queen, it's all very suspect."

"Coming!" Kurt yelled and turned the water off.

Genius put the phone back to his ear. "By the way, contratulations are in order. Kurt won this week's assignment today."

"He did? That's fantastic!" Burt cheered.

"It is," Genius agreed. "Kurt just hasn't gotten to the same conclusion yet."

"Oh boy, that's my son. Always suspicious whenever something good happens to him," Burt chuckled.

"Here he is," Genius said when the bathroom door opened and Kurt emerged wrapped in a large white towel, the skin on his arms and shoulders still steaming and his wet bangs falling in his forehead.

He reached for the phone like a drowning man, and Genius could see in Kurt's hazed eyes that he still wasn't sober and therefore over-emotional.

"DAD!" Kurt cried into the phone.

"Kiddo, what's going on?" Burt asked, startled by the urgency in his son's voice and Kurt broke down completely. All he managed to get out between sobs was a repeatedly "I love you, Dad, I'm so sorry I messed up again. I love you so much".

Genius led Kurt by the arm to sit on the couch and wrapped one of his quilts around his shoulders and gently pried the phone out of his hands.

"Hey there, it's me again," Genius said.

"What's going on with him?" Burt asked, sounding horrified. "What happened?"

"He's in a bit of a weepy mood, obviously," Genius said lightly. "It's probably because I did this heart-wrenching runway show about a dad abandoning his son, you get the drift."

"No, I'm not sure that's it," Burt said doubtfully. "Granted, he's been in a bad mood lately, but he sounds pretty bent out of shape to me."

"He's had a little bit to drink to celebrate his win and the alcohol makes him emotional," Genius tried to fish for another excuse. Boy, Kurt's father was hard to convince.

"No, there's something else," Burt said all seriously. "Something you're not telling me."

"Because it's none of your business!" Genius barked at him, all of a sudden losing his temper. It was as if Kurt's father wanted to dig up some dirt that he could throw at his son. That was something Genius knew all too well. "As long as you don't know shit about his life you have no right to judge him, all right? The last thing he needs right now is for you to make him feel guilty and even more like shit than he already does! You don't get to kick your son when he's already on the ground!"

Genius stopped yelling as abrupt as he had started it, realizing that he was the one to judge too quickly and therefore probably barking up the wrong tree. His own father would have interrupted him already with a sharp voice, not tolerating rebellious behavior of any kind.

"Don't talk to my dad like that," Kurt said in a hoarse voice, sitting up and trying to get the phone back.

Genius was too shaken by his own sudden outburst to know what to do. His own freaking runway show had awoken some ghosts that he had thought he had buried a long time ago and now he heard his father's voice in his head over and over again and he didn't know how to drown it.

"Look, Emmett," Burt said in a calm but firm voice. "I don't appreciate being yelled at, but I appreciate that you're sticking up for my son. He's been through a lot the past few months and I wouldn't be calling in the middle of the night if I didn't care about him. I assure you that I'd never judge my son, no matter what kind of mess he gets into. I love him. He means the world to me. So would you please tell me what happened to him? I know my son. Kurt doesn't cry like that if it's not a serious matter. If you're not telling me what's going on, I'm going to take the next flight to New York."

Genius couldn't reply. He was teary-eyed with shame and frustration.

When Kurt motioned to get the phone back, Genius handed it over with a slack wrist and without another word.

"Dad, it's me," Kurt said, although he hardly had his voice under control. "I'm so stupid. I drank. I know I promised you I would never drink again, I'm so sorry. I'm so disappointed in myself! Andrew offered me champagne to celebrate and- no excuse. I messed up. Genius has a suspicion, I can't even say it out loud. I don't want to make false accusations. But I'm so sick of everything."

"We'll get there, Kurt," Burt promised. "Look, it's okay to make mistakes. Don't sweat over it. No need to punish yourself even more. Whatever happened, I love you!" Burt made a dramatic pause to emphase his words. "Not too thrilled to hear Andrew's name again. He's around, I get that. We need to work on not letting him mess with your head, okay?"

Instead of an answer, Kurt let out another sob. Genius knew exactly what Kurt was thinking. Andrew was messing with Kurt's head big time, using drugs. Kurt just wasn't ready to admit it yet.

"It's okay, kiddo, we'll get there," Burt said reassuringly. "What kind of suspicion does your friend have?"

"It's about Andrew's intentions," Kurt said evasively. "I really can't get into it right now. I will let you know as soon as I know something specific."

"Okay then. Tell me about your friend Emmett. He's quite a character. How did you end up at his place tonight?"

"I got into a huge fight with Rachel," Kurt said, trying to stifle a hiccup. "It's a long and frustrating story. I can't stay with her anymore, Dad. Genius offered to let me crash at his place tonight. He had this amazing runway show. It made me think of you and how lucky I am to have you, Dad."

"And I'm lucky to have you, Kurt," Burt said. "Don't forget this isn't a one way road. We're here for each other, right?"

"Right," Kurt confirmed and let out a relieved breath.

"And I want to see you for Thanksgiving," Burt said. "It's next Thursday. I'm going to send you flight tickets, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt replied.

"Great. Can't wait to finally see you again, kiddo. By the way, Emmett just told me that you've won the assignment this week," Burt said. "Congratulations. You deserve it."

"Genius was so much better," Kurt disagreed.

"I'm confused. Is Genius and Emmett the same person?"

"Yes, he is," Kurt said with a smile.

"Can you give him to me again, please?"

Kurt held out the phone to Genius who had listened in to their conversation.

Genius accepted the phone with a nod towards the bathroom. "Go and get dried up, Kurt. No need for you to catch a cold after all." Only when Kurt was out of earshot did Genius take the call. He didn't want the humiliation of letting Kurt listen to him getting reprimanded.

"You wanted to talk to me again?" Genius considered just hanging up. Why should he allow this man to yell at him? But he figured it was only fair after he had yelled at the man first. However, Burt Hummel surprised him.

"Can I ask a favor of you, Emmett?"

Genius was skeptical. "What do you want me to do? Work on my manners? I'm sorry, but my Yell first, don't be sorry later attitude has gotten me to where I am now, so-"

"Don't change a thing about you, kid," Burt cut in, startling Genius so much that he shut his mouth and couldn't open it again.

"You're fierce and you say what's on your mind. I like that," Burt went on all serious, baffling Genius even more. "Kurt can use a friend like you. I'd feel much better if I knew he had you to keep an eye on him."

"I'm not a babysitter," Genius replied, still wary. "Granted, I worked as a nanny for French brats, but they were easier to handle than a..." He tried to come up with a funny name to ridicule Kurt, but he found that he couldn't. "Well, it's different with Kurt," he finished his sentence.

"I'm not asking you to monitor his every move," Burt clarified. "I'm just asking you to be a friend."

"I could try, I guess," Genius said.

"Thank you, Emmett," Burt said. "I owe you."

"Don't mention it," Genius said, still wary.

"Good night, kid."

"Night," Genius closed the phone and stood. That was the strangest phone call he'd had in a long time.


He brought Kurt a fresh pair of pajamas and stood in the bathroom door, watching Kurt blow-dry his hair. "Your dad's weird."

Kurt quickly changed into the pajamas that fitted him perfectly. Without the heels, Genius and he were the same height.

"What's going on with you?" Kurt asked, not actually accusing, but rather confused. "Why did you yell at my dad like that?"

"Why is your dad so fucking nice?" Genius shot back, irritated. "That's not normal."

Kurt gave him a bewildered glance. "I know that I'm lucky to have a dad like him," he acknowledged, remembering the No Son Of Mine runway show. "But it should be perfectly normal to have parents who care about their kids."

Genius gave a disagreeing snort and stepped into the bathroom, standing next to Kurt in front of the mirror. "It's past one," Genius stated, shifting from one foot to the next. "We should get ready for bed."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Kurt asked, motioning for the bathroom. Genius shook his head.

"You can use my moisturizer," Genius offered, and Kurt gladly accepted.

Genius watched Kurt, hesitating for a moment. He wanted to try to do something that he usually refused to do with an audience. But somehow it was different with Kurt around. Genius wasn't ashamed in front of him.

"Do you mind if I take off my make-up?" Genius asked while removing his earrings and jewelry.

"Of course not," Kurt was preoccupied with the task of opening the various products on the shelf and giving them a testing sniff. To know that Kurt didn't understand that this was a big deal for Genius made it easier for Genius to go through with it. He pulled a couple of moist towlettes out of a box and started rubbing the make-up off his face. He hadn't shown his face undone to anyone for years. The French people had adored him for his eccentricities, in the States however the most common reaction was incomprehension.

"Your skin is flawless," Genius said to Kurt, admiring his peer's spotfree face. "This foundation is a fucking fertilizer for zits."

Kurt gave a grin and continued to inspect the different tubes and cream jars on the shelf beneath the mirror. "I'm going to send you the link to the moisturizer I'm buying on the internet. You've got some impressive stuff here, all from Paris as far as I can see, but the brand I'm using is indisputably the best for our skin tone and I bet less expensive."

"Thanks, I love trying new brands."

When Genius washed his face, he secretly relished how comfortable he felt in Kurt's company. He was thrilled by the fact that he had finally stepped over his own shadow and realized that it wasn't such a big deal to let someone see behind the mask after all.

"Thanks for letting me crash," Kurt said again with a heartfelt sigh. "I really don't want to talk to Rachel tonight. I guess I should text her and let her know I'm here, so she doesn't feel obligated to come home tonight." He rolled his eyes.

"Why did you fight?" Genius asked, for conversation mostly. He wasn't really interested in listening to the details of some petty dispute between roommates.

"She thinks I that I ripped apart my own outfits."

"Why would she think that?" Genius' eyes widened, intrigued despite himself.

"She thinks I'm prone to self-sabotage," Kurt said while creaming his face.

"Are you?" Genius asked while applying moisturizer.

"No!" Kurt said defensively, a bit too loudly. "I just... I have a history with self-harm tendencies. It's mostly just dark thoughts," he admitted. "But I also acted on it a few times." He gave Genius a hesitant look, waiting to be judged.

Genius was baffled by Kurt's openness. Whether it was still the influence of the drugs or the beginnings of true friendly bonding, Genius wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Kurt felt comfortable sharing his demons with him.

"Your wrist," Genius said knowingly. "I've seen the scars. That one time in Babylon. Two times actually."

Kurt looked up, dumbstruck by the fact that Genius knew.

"I'm not-," Kurt started, but hesitated, obviously feeling exposed now. He finished anyway. "I never meant to kill myself. Just- I don't know."

"I get it," Genius assured him. When Kurt gave him a doubtful look, Genius elaborated.

"I know you think that I'm this flawless human being," Genius said with a cock of his head and a one-sided shrug. "But I have battle scars, too. It doesn't matter if they're self-inflicted or not. They bear testimony that you're a fighter."

Kurt remained doubtful. "I'd rather think they show off weakness."

Genius gave him a stern glance. "Whether you fight the demons that live within you or the cruel monsters in your environment, as long as you keep up the fight you'll get through everything, and they will vanish eventually." He reached for Kurt's hand and pulled the sleeve down to reveal the marks on his wrist. "I have just the ointment you need for these," he got another jar out of the cabinet. "Apply generously," he advised. "And the scars will fade away."

"Thanks," Kurt murmured.

"Look, people like Rachel don't know about fighting monsters. She may have her own little demons, but she doesn't get that your demons are on quite another level."

"And you do?" There was something in Kurt's eyes, something hopeful yet fearful. It seemed like Kurt still yearned for someone to understand the daily struggle of being different.

"Do you want to know the reason why I prefer the fall/winter collection?"

Kurt looked up confused, not sure what this all about.

For a second Genius was about to chicken out. On one hand he felt comfortable and brave enough in Kurt's company to talk about this stuff and take off his make-up in front of him. But the next step would take them on quite another level. It was scary to let someone else in on your life, to share your secrets, your innermost fears. What was it good for anyway? He didn't need Kurt's pity nor did he want to give Kurt the burden of knowledge. He didn't even know why he trusted Kurt this much and why he felt the urge to confide in him. Maybe because he recognized himself in the slightly younger man. They had different stories, and yet they weren't that different. If only for the slim chance that his story would help Kurt fighting his own demons, what harm did it do to swallow down his pride? Also, Kurt was still a bit high and he probably wouldn't remember anything anyway by tomorrow.

"I've never shown or told anybody," Genius said to make sure Kurt understood the gravity of the secret he was about to share.

He undid his button-down and shrugged it off. Underneath he wore his typical dark turtleneck.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked, foreboding.

With a swift motion Genius pulled the thin turtleneck over his head.

Kurt gasped in shock when he saw the long scars running down on Genius' neck. There were several long white lines across the throat and on his left shoulder.

"Oh, my God," Kurt said in a whisper, horrified by the image of the forceful slashes that must have been inflicted to cause such scarring. "Please tell me it was a horrible accident. You didn't do that to yourself, did you?"

"No, I wouldn't hurt myself," Genius replied with a snort. "Other people see to that enough."

He didn't mean it in a way of judging Kurt's self-harming history, but once the words were out he noticed a hurt look cross over Kurt's face. "No offense," he quickly said and instantly hated the fact that he had invited Kurt over. This was why he didn't like to get too friendly with people, he always wound up hurting or insulting them by accident.

"None taken," Kurt replied quietly and pulled the sleeves over his hands. "What happened?" Kurt asked in a hardly composed voice, bracing himself for the horror of Genius' story. "Did you get attacked by homophobes?"

"No, my father did this," Genius finally started without a trace of emotion, gesturing to his throat.

"Your own father did this to you?" Kurt repeated in a voice of utter disbelief.

Genius avoided to meet Kurt's horrified stare. "Let's sit down." They left the bathroom together and Genius poured the prepared tea in two white mugs and told Kurt to wait on the couch. Genius quickly changed into a pair of pajamas in his bedroom and put on a scarf to hide his scars. He didn't want for Kurt to be staring at them all night long.

Genius sat on the far end of the couch and felt Kurt's anxious stare on him. He couldn't back out now, he had to tell his story. Kurt was clutching his mug and watching Genius patiently. The score of Rent was still running on repeat and Genius left the music on. He needed it's familiarity to soothe him.

"Well, as you can probably guess by now, my father hates me. My childhood was filled with him calling me fag and gay. Fancy boy. Sissy. Don't be such a wuss. Most of the time I didn't even know what those words meant, but I could tell from the way he said them they were meant as insults. One time my mother explained to me that my father wanted to make a man out of me, make me fight back, show him that I was a fighter. But I couldn't."

Genius realized that he had already detached himself from his former life that it almost felt as if he was talking about someone else. Almost. The memories had faded to a dull pain in the back of his mind.

"One day when I was fifteen he was angry about something and he started calling me a names again, and when he called me a worthless fag, I told him that I was gay. To my surprise that shut him up. He was absolutely perplexed. I turned and went up to my room and he didn't bother me for a whole weekend. I thought I had won. I thought that he accepted that I was exactly what he told me I was a thousand times before. But he hadn't. He came into my room that Sunday night and I remember it felt like such a violation and I hated that I didn't have a key to my own room. I didn't want him to stand in my room, I didn't feel safe in his presence although he'd never really hit me or anything before. It was the first time I had this weird feeling that I didn't belong there, you know? He was my dad, but I felt like I didn't know him. Worse, I didn't trust him, I was scared of him, because I knew that he didn't love me. We were strangers to one another, and the realization kind of hit me in that moment. I wanted to yell at him to get out of my room, but I couldn't say anything. He solemnly went around my room, inspecting everything, and finally told me in a low voice that I wasn't allowed to show off my gayness. He forbid me to talk about it to my friends at school and to act gay in front of people. He didn't want people to know about it. The good thing was that he stopped calling me names. I think he didn't want neighbors to hear him calling me a fag and assume that I actually was one."

The more he dove into the story, the more he remembered of the way he'd felt back then, the pain and betrayal and humiliation that he had stored away. He had to stop and stare into his mug several times to compose himself and continue without breaking down in front of Kurt. When he looked over, however, it was Kurt who had silent tears rolling down his face.

"Okay, I'm going to stop right here," he said and got off the couch.

"No, I'm sorry," Kurt called out and quickly wiped his face off with his sleeve. "See? I'm not crying! Go on, please."

"I'm not telling you all this to have you pity me," Genius said, pacing the living room with his mug still clutched in his hands.

"I know, and I'm not," Kurt assured him. "I'm just upset, because this is exactly what I had feared would happen when I came out to my dad. I was so scared he would reject me. My dad and I haven't been exactly close when I grew up, and after my mom died I felt like it was inevitable that we would become more and more estranged. I lived day by day in fear of losing him if he ever found out I was gay."

"But that's not what happened. Your dad seems to care a great deal about you," Genius observed.

"After I came out to him, my dad has been my rock," Kurt admitted, almost apologetically, as if sorry to rub his own luck into his peer's face. "We've had some differences and misunderstandings, but when it counts we've got each other's back."

"Good for you," Genius said rather coldly. He took Kurt's empty mug and went to pour more tea and search for the cookies he was sure had to be around somewhere. Genius didn't know what was going on. He blamed the late hour and the crappy review the judge had given him, that he was all emotional tonight. He tried not to be jealous of Kurt's seemingly well relationship with his father. But he wished that he had at least someone in his life who cared about him.

His phone beeped and his heart did a little flip seeing that it was Special K again: How are things with your friend going? Is he all right? Are you all right? Just wanted to let you know that I think you're the sweetest guy to take care of him. *huggles *

Genius quickly typed a reply: Thanks for asking. He's okay. We're having tea and trading battle stories. How's your party?

"Please continue," Kurt said, leaning over the back of the couch to watch Genius. "What happened between you and your dad?" he sat up straight, as if wanting to show that he was composed now and wouldn't slip into a crying fit again.

Genius sat down next to Kurt again and gave Kurt a fresh cup of tea. "I was a quiet and introvert person, I didn't have friends and I didn't go to social events. However, I developed another problem. If people looked at me, I got awfully insecure. It still makes me feel insignificant and ugly. I know it's sick. I should see a therapist about it. It went so far that I couldn't look at myself in the mirror, because I would obsess over how other people perceived me. I tried to hide away in clothes. I started wearing Gothic black to alienate further from my school peers. It worked well, nobody wants to talk to a black widow with a constant frown. That's when I started to put on make-up, too. Just black eyeliner at first. I needed to look different, to see someone else when I looked into the mirror. For someone who hated his own face I spent hours in front of the mirror trying all different kinds of make-up. I did it secretly at first, mostly at night in my room, never in public. But I kind of grew addicted to it, up to the point that it was unbearable to have people look at my bare face. So I started wearing make-up to school and at home. My mother tolerated it as long as I washed it off before my father came home from work every day."

The closer Genius got to tell the hight point of his story, the more uneasy he became. He pulled his basket of quilting material within reach and started working on it to calm his nerves.

"What happened?" Kurt was literally on the edge of his seat, his face an expression of true concern rather than craving for sensation.

"On my eighteenth birthday I refused to take off my make-up. I felt bold enough to show my family that this was me. Melanie wasn't even home. She was off to college and we hardly got to see her anymore. She knew my Goth days, but she hadn't seen me wearing make-up. Anyway, my mother made dinner and apparently my parents were going to give me a car, but not because they thought I deserved one, but because it was what society expected them to do. My father was already drunk with wine. By then he drank every night. Which is no excuse. Drunk people should be made fully responsible for their actions."

He looked up, noticing that Kurt's hands were still twitching, moving restlessly, not knowing what to do. Genius didn't want to propose going to sleep because he knew Kurt wouldn't be able to sleep just yet, he would be lying awake, pondering about things and perhaps even getting up again and leaving the apartment without Genius noticing. He wasn't going to take that risk, so Genius stayed up with Kurt despite his own fatigue.

"Do you want to try?" Genius held up the corner of the quilt.

"I've never done quilting before."

"Just try it," Genius offered. Anything to keep Kurt's hands and mind busy.

"Oh, I'm going to ruin them for you," Kurt worried.

"If I don't like anything you do, I'll just rip it up again," Genius replied with a shrug.

Kurt gave him a weird look and Genius got what he sounded like. "I didn't sabotage your outfits."

"I know, don't worry," Kurt said, taking the other end of the quilt and examining the way Genius had worked on the stitching, before starting himself. "Please continue. What happened with your dad?"

Genius needed a moment to gather his thoughts. He had never talked about this before, not even online, so it was hard to find the words.

"The moment my father saw me wearing make-up, he lost it. He started yelling at me, insulting me, the usual. But I wasn't prepared for the pure hatred he suddenly unleashed towards me. He thought I wanted to be a girl. I tried to explain to him that I'm not a transgender. I'm not a transvestite, either. I don't dress up in girl's clothes. I just feel more comfortable with wearing make-up. It wasn't even that I used mascara or girly colors. At that point it was just foundation and eyeliner and a little rouge. And my earrings." Genius looked up from his stitching, glad to see that Kurt was concentrating on the quilt as well. It was easier to tell the story knowing that Kurt wasn't looking at him.

"But my father didn't care for an explanation. He took the empty wine bottle, smashed it on the table and came onto me. My mother let out a scream when my father aimed for my face. He wanted to cut my face. I know he did. But I turned away in time, so he hit my neck and shoulder instead. I fell against a cupboard, that's how I got the scar on my eyebrow. At first I didn't even feel the pain. I was in such a state of shock that I didn't realize what was happening. My father looked down at me with the broken bottle still in hand. And I was angry that he had ruined my white shirt with red wine, because there were red stains all over me, and it took me a while to realize that it wasn't wine, but my own blood. My mother rushed me to the hospital. I was told afterwards that I had almost died."

This time when Genius looked up, he saw that Kurt had started crying again. "Oh dear." Genius offered him a box of Kleenex. Genius wasn't sure why he shared his demons with Kurt, why he told him about his personal monster, why he showed his scars. He didn't say it to see the horror on Kurts face. For the most part he told his story to find out what it felt like telling it to somebody. Apart from his mother and sister nobody knew about this. He hadn't even known that he felt the urge to tell it to someone. To say it out loud. To receive some sympathy perhaps, or to have someone recognize how this would have changed him, that maybe he would be a different person if this hadn't happened to him, and to mourn the person he might have become instead.

But he was proud of himself for letting it out and to allow Kurt that glimpse into his shattered soul. Maybe this was the way to become a better person, someone with heart and sympathy himself. He didn't want to be cold and unreproachful anymore.

"When I came to a few days later in the hospital, my mother sat in the chair next to my bed. She told me that she'd been there every day and night, because she wanted to be by my side the moment I woke up. That's sweet, isn't it? Well, apparently she had told the doctors and the police that my injuries were the result of an accident. When they wouldn't believe her, she told them that I had tried to kill myself. She was afraid that I would wake up and tell a different story."

"Your mother defended him?" Kurt asked in disgust.

"She pleaded with me to confirm her story to the police, so my father wouldn't have to go to jail. Apparently she prefered to tell neighbors that I was suicidal rather than telling them her husband would attack his own son. It seemed like everybody understood just too well why I would want to end my miserable being. So I told the police that I had wanted to commit suicide. I hated myself for covering up for my father. I hated my mother for making me cover for him."

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said, wiping at his eyes again, and Genius wasn't sure if he was apologizing for crying or expressing sympathy for Genius' case. It didn't really matter. The only thing that mattered in this moment was how warm it made Genius feel to hear Kurt say these things and to see someone shed tears over what had happened to him. The only thing Genius remembered vividly from his time in the hospital was his mother ugly crying and begging him not to destroy the family by sending his father to jail.

"I had to get away from them, so I applied to au pair jobs all over Europe. Paris, Milan, Berlin, London. I didn't even care where I would end up. When I got the job in Paris I packed my bags and never looked back."

"What about your sister?" Kurt asked, supressing a hiccup. "She seemed truly upset that you left her behind."

"Melanie had been away to college. She didn't care about what was going on at home. She came to visit me in the hospital to tell me how selfish I was to try and end my life. I told her the truth, about how dad had attacked me. Until today I'm not sure she even believed me."

"She seemed genuinely concerned about you the other day. You should give her a chance." Kurt shook his head. "God, I feel so stupid now with my petty problems compared to yours."

"Nonsense," Genius said. "Look, I'm not telling you this to compare my misery to yours to see who's had it worse. I just thought maybe it would make you feel better knowing that I don't have a perfect life, too."

"It doesn't make me feel better to know what you had to go through," Kurt replied. "But I feel honored that you trust me enough to share your past with me."

They were quiet for some time, just listening to the cast of Rent sing One Day Glory.

"How was Paris?" Kurt asked, if only to change the subject to a happier memory.

"Dirty. Loud. Just like New York, really," Genius shrugged. "The family I lived with was rich and eccentric which was good, because they embraced that I was eccentric, too. They didn't mind me wearing make-up and the latest haute couture. They liked having a gay guy for a nanny, because they had bad luck with girls. The mother of the family worked at the fashion magazine Elle, so she got me a little job there after my year as an au pair was up. I worked at Elle for a year, but mostly I just worked the coffee maker and the copy machine. She told me to never forget one thing, la vie est belle. It's hard to maintain a positive attitude sometimes. But I learned that you need to find something that keeps you going. I decided that it's fashion for me."

This phone beeped again, and he quickly read a new message from Special K, a response to his last text: OMG! It's as amazing as you can expect from a Starchild launch party! He's the sweetest guy! Have you checked out the fanpage I made for him? I sent you the link yesterday! - Special K

"By the way, you had text messages. I saw them when I answered your dad's call," Genius remembered to tell Kurt.

"Oh," Kurt grabbed his phone and for a moment they were both busy texting.

Genius replied to Special K: Have not yet, sorry. I'm quilting with my friend atm. Looks like quilting is the perfect buzz kill after all.

"Rachel says she's having a great time with Adam and Joey. I told her I'm going to spend the night at your place."

"Where are your other friends anyway? Shouldn't they have stayed with you?" Genius asked rather sharply, and instantly amended when he saw Kurt's startled look. "I'm just wondering why you were hanging out with Andrew."

"Blaine and Chandler are at a party. They were invited by the singer that Blaine's dance group is assigned to. Starchild. Ever heard of him?"

"Yes, actually. A friend of mine is at Starchild's party tonight, too," Genius said, baffled by this coincidence. "He's a big fan and talks nonstop about him. It's as annoying as it is cute."

"Oh, who's your friend? Do I know him?" Kurt was intrigued.

"He's not really my friend," Genius confessed, and upon Kurt's inquiring look he elaborated. "I've never met him in person. We're online friends." He gave Kurt a Don't Judge look.

"But you're close enough that you consider him a friend. That's nice," Kurt said diplomatically. "Did he come to New York just for the party? You should meet up while he's in the city."

"Actually, he lives in New York," Genius admitted.

"And you've never met?" Kurt asked, raising his voice in disbelief.

"What if he's quite different in person? People tend to put on a facade online."

"I'd rather think people show their true faces online and hide their true self in real life," Kurt pointed out. "You know, give a man a mask and he will show you his true face."

"Oscar Wilde," Genius smiled at the quote. "The thing is, he's really nice. Chatting with him is the hightlight of my day and I don't want to jeopardize that by meeting him in person."

"Why? Do you think you wouldn't like him?"

"No, I'm rather worried that he wouldn't like me. What if he freaks out when he sees me? On a freak skala I'm like a mix of David Bowie and Boy George. Who would be attracted to someone like me?"

"Now you're exaggerating. You're fine, with or without make-up," Kurt assured him and ignored the doubtful look Genius gave him. "Tell me more about him. What does he look like?"

"I don't know. We never exchanged pictures."

"Doesn't he have a profile photo?"

"Yes, but it's a picture of Jennifer Lawrence. He's weird that way. He's always fangirling about tons of celebrities."

"What's his name?"

"He goes by a lot of names. Usually it's Special K or Chan-chan. That's an Asian nickname, you know, in Japan they say chan to cute people, but I don't think he's Asian."

"And you don't know his real name?" Kurt looked up again.

"We met in a chat room. Nobody uses their real names!" Genius got defensive.

"So you really like him, but you don't know a thing about him," Kurt remained skeptical.

"I know a lot about him. We talk about everything. He's very open and kind and funny. And he's always around when I need to talk."

"Has he ever proposed to meet up?" Kurt was curious.

"No," Genius gave a guilty look. "But that's probably because he thinks I still live in Paris."

"What?" Kurt swatted at Genius' arm. "Why wouldn't you tell him that you live just around the block? If you guys like each other so much, then why are you worrying so much about meeting him? I mean, you don't have to marry him. But wouldn't it be nice to have a friend around?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just not good at doing this friendship thing." Genius gave a shrug.

"That's not true," Kurt said. "Look what you're doing for me and we're not even friends." Kurt gave him a shrug and a hesitant smile. "We could be, though."

"Don't you have enough friends?" Genius asked.

"There's not a limit," Kurt said.

"Sorry, but so far I've done well with not having friends. I believe in not giving someone the power to betray you. See what happened with your friend Rachel? Nothing is worse than trusting the wrong person."

"But you already put your trust in me by sharing your story," Kurt countered.

"Yes, but if you blurt that out to anyone, I'll just tell them you're a drug junkie on detoxification."

Kurt laughed at that and suddenly he got excited. "When your friend is at the same party where my friends are right now, how about we try to get them to meet? Then they can tell you what your Special K guy is like in real life!"

"No," Genius shook his head. "Leave him alone. If he finds out I set your friends on him, he'll think I'm stalking him."

"Oh, come on," Kurt laughed again. "My friends are very friendly, no need to be ashamed of them. Chandler is a very chatty guy and Blaine's just lovely. They'll find your friend and charm him in no time."

"No, I don't like that. It's sneaky."

"You're just afraid of things getting real between you and him," Kurt said.

"Yeah, right, says the guy who's afraid of getting real with his ex," Genius replied with a major eye roll. "Mind you, I'm talking about your cute puppy model guy and not that abusive shit who drugged you."

"He didn't-" Kurt started again, but Genius instantly cut in.

"Oh please, do you want to go to the emergency room and take a blood test?" It came out harsher than he had intended, and he had forgotten the vulnerable state of mind that Kurt was in.

"Uh-oh, here we go again," Genius let out a sigh when he saw Kurt's fresh tears. "I'm sorry, okay? You're probably right and you've just reacted badly to the alcohol."

"Why would Andrew want to hurt me?" Kurt said, his voice thick with emotion. He huddled back deeper into the couch, clutching the unfinished quilt to his chest. Genius didn't have an answer. He just offered the Kleenex box and felt helpless watching Kurt have a sobbing fit.

Kurt's phone went off with another message, and Kurt wiped his eyes to be able to read the message. Genius didn't care whoever was texting Kurt, but that person did a great job at distracting Kurt, so Genius was happy about that. He went over to the kitchenette and searched his drawers for take out menus. He was starving and he supposed Kurt could use a bite to eat, too. He was just studying the vegetarian section of the Italian place around the block, when Kurt asked, "Do you mind if I turn off the music for second? Chandler just sent me a video clip of a performance at the party."

Like with everything this was a hard request for Genius. The only music he allowed in his apartment was the score of Rent. He was weird that way and he knew it, but these songs were the only ones that kept his mind from wandering to bad places. But hell, with Kurt in his apartment the usual rules in his head didn't apply anyway.

"Go ahead," Genius said.

Roger and Mimi were cut off in the middle of singing I Should Tell You and were replaced by the sound of people chatting at a party and music starting to play. At first it appeared to be a tacky love song boyband style, but there was something touching about it. It was raw and painfully truthful, not the usual love song material. "Is that Starchild singing?" Genius wondered.

"No, it's Blaine," Kurt replied, and there was a hitch in his voice. "I don't understand why he's singing at Starchild's party, either, but-" Kurt couldn't finish his words. His attention was stuck on the video on his phone. Genius watched over his shoulder, impressed by how good this Blaine was.

"Cold as ice
And more bitter than a December winter night
That's how I treated you
And I know that I sometimes tend to lose my temper
And I cross the line
Yeah that's the truth

All along
I tried to pretend it didn't matter if I was alone
But deep down I know
If you were gone
For even a day I wouldn't know which way to turn
Cause I'm lost without you.

I know it gets hard sometimes
But I could never
Leave your side
No matter what I say

Cause if I wanted to go I would have gone by now,
But I really need you near me to
Keep my mind off the edge
If I wanted to leave I would have left by now,
But you're the only one that knows me
Better than I know myself

I get kind of dark
Let it go too far
I can be obnoxious at times
But try and see my heart
Cause I need you now
So don't let me down
You're the only thing in this world I would die without!"

All of a sudden Kurt burst into tears. Yet again. Genius let out a sigh. Being a friend was harder than he'd expected it to be. Couldn't Kurt just fall asleep?

"What's going on?" Genius inquired. "Why are you crying again? Granted, this is sweet, but it's not like he's singing to you."

"I wish he was," Kurt said and leaned over the couch to grab a handful of tissues. "I've never heard this song before. It's like- I mean the lyrics speak to me."

"Yeah, if your abusive and stalking ex was to sing them to you," Genius huffed. "Not that fluffy moon-eyed ex with the killing hip action."

Through his tears Kurt gave him the funniest WTF expression. Apparently it was too early for abusive ex references. Genius shrugged and decided to focus on the hot ex. "What? Your fluffy ex can dance. Why do you think you won the assigment today? The jury's in love with him."

Kurt laughed, but it sounded more like a choke.

Kurt resumed texting with his friend Chandler. Genius sat down on the couch again, waving the menu at Kurt. "Let's order food. You have to eat. Drugs are no good on an empty stomach."

Kurt gave him yet another glare, but his expression mellowed when he read another text from his friend. "My friends want to come over. Is that okay?" he asked almost timidly.

Horrified by this news, Genius had to swallow. "They want to come here?"

"It'll just be for a few minutes," Kurt said. "I told Chandler what happened and he wants to check if I'm okay and bring Blaine."

Genius considered this. He couldn't deny Kurt to see his friends. It was good news that they cared enough to come and see him this late. On the other hand, Genius had made a great exception to let Kurt into his sanctuary. He wasn't sure he was ready to have so many people over. "Can't you just talk to them on the phone?"

Kurt just gave him puppy eyes. Genius pursed his lips and gave in. "If you really want them to come over, tell them to bring food. I'll call the Italian place and order something. They can fetch it."


Chandler's POV

"OH MY GOD!"

Chandler squealed the moment Blaine got into the car. Blaine looked at him, startled, obviously not sure what it was that had set Chandler off to squeal like a school girl this time.

"Your outfit!" Chandler cried out in explanation. "Is that the outfit Kurt created for you this week? You look amazing!" Chandler couldn't keep it in, because it was the truth. Blaine looked too hot to be true, and knowing that Blaine wouldn't normally dress this boldly in black leather and boots, not even for a Starchild album launch party, it had to be Kurt's doing.

Blaine looked down at himself and cursed. "I forgot to change!"

"Lucky me!" Chandler giggled happily. "Where's Kurt?"

"He's not coming. Shit, I don't think I have time to go up again and change, do I?"

"We're already late as it is," Chandler pulled a face. "And I know it's so cool to be fashionably late, but I guess that just counts for smoking hot new celebrities and not for college boys who are craving a glimpse of glamour. I don't want to stretch our chance to ever get invitations again. And why's Kurt not coming?"

"Because today will be marked on the calender as the day all hell broke loose," Blaine said with a major sigh. "I'll tell you on the way."


Chandler was in a perpetual state of amazement. The night was perfect. So was the setting and the people. Imagine a penthouse suite with a roof terrace overlooking New York City, a starlit sky and gorgeous people all around having a fabulous time.

There were security people at the door, checking everyone who wanted to get in from head to toe and they were given purple wristbands reading STARCHILD. It was fantastic!

Chandler went up to everyone, chatting and gossiping. Blaine had to drag him away from talking to the press people, "It must be such a great job to get to interview the stars. Have you met anyone famous lately? I need to rethink my career options."

"Aren't you nervous at all?" Blaine was in awe and rather intimidated by the event.

"No, this is amazing!" Chandler was usually more excited than nervous. Whenever he had the chance to go to a social event of any kind, he didn't worry about what to wear and what kind of impression people would have of him. He'd be too happy to be able to attend that those things didn't matter to him. Of course he wanted people to like him to increase the chance of a follow-up invitation. But he didn't pretend to be someone he wasn't just to please people or make a false impression.

However, Chandler loved to play make believe, and with Blaine at his side it was easy to imagine they were a real couple out on a date to the launch party of their close celebrity friend Elliott. Chandler loved daydreaming, but he was realistic enough to differentiate between fate and sheer luck. As always he would simply enjoy the moment.

Tonight he enjoyed Blaine's company and the way his friend looked especially handsome and dreamy. He had to be careful about his feelings, it was just too easy to fall in love with Blaine. But in the back of his mind, Chandler always remembered that Blaine was still in love with Kurt.

"It's too bad Kurt didn't come along," he said with a heartfelt sigh when they were standing on the roof terrace, staring into the night. "He would have loved to see all these fabulously dressed people and the bodyguard at the door and the stage in the living room."

"He really didn't feel like celebrating after everything that happened today," Blaine was sympathetic.

"But in the end he won!" Chandler pointed out. "So all the trouble was worth it!"

"Not if you have to go through hell to come out as the winner, no, then the trouble isn't worth it," Blaine disagreed. "I hate to say it, but on some level I agree with Rachel. Kurt can't handle the stress. He's burned out."

"She could have picked a better time to talk to Kurt about it," Chandler shook his head. "No way did Kurt destroy his own outfits to have a reason to leave the show."

"They had a really bad fight," Blaine said again. Chandler knew that it was killing Blaine.

"But Kurt's going to be okay, isn't he?" Chandler said, concerned. "I mean we could leave the party and go to him. I don't like to think of him being alone."

"Me, neither, that's why I'm texting with him," Blaine said, indicating that he was already checking on Kurt.

"I'm going to text him, too," Chandler said, getting his phone out.

"Don't tell him that I already told you everything," Blaine quickly said.

"Don't worry. I'll be discreet. But I want to congratulate him on his win, is that okay? That'll make him think of nice things."

"I'm just glad next week is off, so Kurt will have time to recover and to breathe again before the next round is on."

"Oh, there's going to be a break?"

"Yes, after the premiere on Monday apparently the producers want to see how the ratings are going before going on with the show."

"I'm so excited about the premiere party! Did I tell you that I'll be there with Isabelle Wright?"

"Yes, you did," Blaine said, smiling fondly. "Several times already."

"It's just- she's such a marvel! I wish she was my aunt. It would be amazing to have an aunt like her!"

Blaine dropped his chin to his chest, chuckling. Chandler grinned. He loved that he was able to make him laugh.

Chandler's phone beeped with a new text and saw that it was from his online friend: Night of firsts. I'm taking a friend home. Good thing he's high, so my shithole of a place probably looks like a fancy penthouse to him. - Cookie

Chandler smiled broadly. He knew that his friend Cookie had issues about trusting people and making friends. Also he would never have someone over at his place. Whoever this friend was, he must be very special or else Cookie wouldn't let him pass the threshold.

"Did Kurt reply to you?" Blaine asked.

"No, this is from my friend Cookie."

"Who?" Blaine arched his eyebrows.

"It's an online friend," Chandler explained. "His chat name is Cookie. Apparently it was his grandma's pet name for him and he didn't come up with anything better."

He waited for Blaine to be unimpressed, but Blaine seemed all right with the prospect of an online friend. Chandler's mother was not. Any time she asked him if he had made new friends and he would tell her of the boy from Paris or the girl from Nevada, she would tell him, "I mean real friends."

Chandler didn't consider his online friends less real than say Blaine or Kurt. He knew they were people sitting behind their computers just like him. They were most definitely real, even if they were living in another state or on another continent. Of course Chandler was aware that most people on the internet came up with false identities to be someone they're not. But others used the internet to finally be who they truly were. They were showing their false faces in real life and only came to be their true selves on the internet. Those were the kind of people that Chandler befriended. Some of them became close friends. Confidants even. Especially this guy from Paris who called himself Cookie. Oh, he wasn't French. He just lived in Paris. He was from Philadelphia. They had met a couple of months ago and already Chandler felt like he knew him inside out. They texted daily and chatted every night. Chandler would worry if they didn't.

"I hope you don't mind if I reply to this."

"Not at all, go ahead," Blaine said, checking his own phone. "Kurt's not answering my texts," Blaine said, sounding worried.

"Maybe he's asleep," Chandler offered. "I'm going to text him again."

They were both standing at the side of the terrace, heads down and thumbing away on their phones, when someone approached them.

"You guys having fun?" Suddenly the man of the hour stood behind them. They both turned around, startled. "I hope you're not tweeting about how much the party sucks."

"No, no, the party's great!" Blaine replied quickly and pocketed his phone and Chandler did the same. "Sorry, we didn't mean to be rude. Thank you again for the invitation."

They both grinned like idiots and were undeniably a little bit starstruck.

"Hey, I'm glad you guys could come," Elliott said with a grin. "How do you like the place?"

"It's amazing!" Chandler cried out. "It must be so great to live here!"

"Yeah, must be," Elliott said. "It's not my place. My agent rented it for the party. It's fancy enough, but rather small for a penthouse. You know, it was important to get a place that isn't too big. It makes a gathering of a few people look like a crowd."

Chandler did his very best not to come across as the biggest fangirl. But when Elliott Gilbert talked to them, his knees turned weak. Elliott looked rockstar fabulous. Thick coiffed dark hair, black eyeliner, a thick golden necklace and earrings, a golden jacket, black tank top underneath, a slashed/ripped jeans with holes that sure cost a fortune, black boots. And black nail polish. So very rock star-ish!

Elliott wasn't even a Look At Me I'm The Star Here type of guy, he was surprisingly sweet and down to earth which made it easy to enjoy his company and forget that he was the star of the event.

"Man, I'm so nervous," Elliott confessed.

"Don't be, you'll be fine," Blaine soothed him.

Chandler was amazed by these simple words. Anybody else would have replied with something along the lines of "What do you have to be nervous about? You're the star, everybody is working their asses off to make this party a hit, all you have to do is show up and smile". But Blaine understood that celebrities were just human as well. Especially new starlets on their rise to fame.

Right now, Elliott was the center of attention. There was a lot to be nervous about. If the party – or the debut album for that matter – was a failure, Elliott would be the only one to lose everything. If he was successful there were a bunch of people to profit from his success. But if he failed, he stood alone.

Blaine would probably be a hell of a nervous wreck too, if he was in Elliott's shoes, as exciting and amazing as it was, there was also a lot riding on it.

Chandler knew that Blaine was proud to be one of the boys and to help Elliott with his performance. Chandler was sure that one day Blaine would be up there, too.

"Thanks," Elliott said. "I sure hope so. It's all looking good so far, I just wish I could get a glimpse into the future to calm my nerves. There's no guarantee for success, right?"

"The most important thing is talent," Blaine replied. "And you've got plenty of that. I think you're safe."

Elliott laughed heartily at that. "Thanks, man." He looked from Blaine to Chandler and back and a smug lop-sided smile appeared on his lips. "So, you guys are boyfriends?"

"Uhm," Chandler exchanged a startled glance with Blaine. They both pretty much looked like deer in headlights. Chandler was thrilled that Elliott would even think that way. As if someone like Blaine... no, stop it right there, Kiehl. Chandler chided himself.

"Well," Blaine began, hesitant.

"Yeah, I meant to ask you what I'm supposed to tell in public anyway," Chandler tilted his head towards Blaine. "Or if this is just- you know, because of Kurt?"

"Hey, I'm sorry if this is a delicate matter-" Elliott raised his hands, puzzled.

"No, no, it's okay," Blaine finally said and then, with a shrug, added, "Yes, we're boyfriends."

Elliott's expression remained skeptical. "You haven't been dating for long, have you?"

"Only a few days," Chandler admitted. It felt weird talking about it. He thought saying it out loud would help to create the fantasy, but instead it just cemented the fact that their relationship was no more than a stupid lie. And now they had just lied to Starchild!

"You don't have to be afraid to show it, you know?" Elliott nodded towards the party crowd. "Most of my friends here are gay. Including me."

"I KNEW IT!" Chandler couldn't stop himself from yelling out in excitement. Elliott Gilbert was gay! It was too good to be true! "Oh, my God, this is so cool!"

Elliott chuckled humbly. "My agency hopes to receive the same response from teenage girls. They were against revealing my sexuality to the world. But I told them I wouldn't deny who I am. We compromised that there wouldn't be an official statement on the matter, but if I was asked directly I would tell the truth. And hey, I'm not ashamed of being gay, it's part of who I am."

"You're so inspiring," Chandler let out a happy sigh. He was amazed by how down to earth Elliott was.

"Thank you, I try to be," Elliott gave half a bow. Then he squinted at Blaine and patted his arm. "By the way, I really love your outfit, man. I've never seen such a bad ass onesie before. Where did you get that from? It's some pricey designer piece, isn't it? Let me guess." And with this Elliott listed some names from fancy designers that Blaine could never afford in his lifetime.

"Actually, it's a Kurt Hummel," Blaine said finally, smirking.

"Why haven't I heard of him?" Elliott was surprised. "Is he a German designer?"

"No, he's my friend I told you about?" Blaine wasn't sure if Starchild remembered. "He's on Fashion Hero."

"Oh, yes. He made this?" Elliott asked excitedly. "It's fantastic, I love it! Did you bring him along? Can I meet him?"

"He couldn't make it," Blaine replied apologetically. He exchanged a glance with Chandler, excited that Elliott actually seemed to love the outfit.

"Dang! I wanted to swap ideas," Elliott said. "I still need to get my stage outfits done."

"I'm sure you have amazing wardrobe people who take care of your outfits," Chandler said.

"Actually I tailor them myself. I try to do as much as I can by myself," Elliott explains. "My agency wants to mold me into something more mainstream, so that I sell better. But I want to stay true to myself, you know? If I even let them dress me, what's going to be left of me?"

"That is so brave!" Chandler cheered.

"I'm still looking for the perfect fabric for stage pants. I usually wear latex, but they are too tight to move around in for too long and it gets sweaty."

"This is soft leather," Blaine explained, patting the sides of his legs. "It got sweaty at first, too, but Kurt solved the problem by adding a strap of stretch denim at the crotch and down inside the legs. See here? It's comfy and your skin can breathe and you can move around properly and if you're getting too hot you can take off the jacket with a zipper."

"Excellent!" Elliott was impressed. "This would be perfect for the concert tour. Please, you have to ask your friend to make me one of those. Or even better, I'm ordering for all my background dancers."

"Wow! That's- that's fantastic!" Blaine laughed, overwhelmed by Elliott's interest in Kurt's design. "But I don't think he'll have time to make them before the tour starts. He's awfully busy with Fashion Hero."

"Then tell him I'm interested in buying permission to recreate them. I'll have my own wardrobe staff reproduce your friend's design. Luckily I've got a big budget for wardrobe."

"Oh, my God," Blaine exchanged a look with Chandler, not sure what to say. "I'll tell him. Kurt will be thrilled!"

"All right," Elliott clapped his hands and flashed his sexy smile at them. "Chandler, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to have to borrow your boyfriend for a while," Elliott turned to Blaine. "I was hoping that you and the boys could help me perform a number in the living room."

He remembers my name, Chandler squealed inside.

"Oh, sure, I guess," Blaine replied, taken by surprise.

"A performance? Oh yes! Can I record it on my phone?" Chander begged and followed them inside. He stood by the side of the little stage when Elliott gathered his dance group and announced the song he was going to sing.

Chandler was about to start recording when he received another text from Cookie: Looks like I'll be on suicide watch all night. Can you entertain me to keep me awake? - Cookie

Chandler instantly worried and replied: OMG! I hope your friend's going to be all right. Tell him he shouldn't do drugs! Drugs intensify the way you feel and if he's feeling down already being high will drag him down further.

He sent the message off and quickly hit the record button as not to miss a second of Starchild's performance with Blaine and the other background dancers. He performed a song called Cuckoo. Blaine and the team danced in the background while Elliott stood at the microphone.

"It feels like I'm losing control
They tell me I'm a danger to myself

Walk that walk like you don't give a fuck
You've got a right to turn it up and get down

I wanna lose my mind like a maniac
And cross the line
Never looking back
We're on the loose
Getting crazy and we've gone cuckoo
Gonna party til they take us away"

It was one of Chandler's favorite songs and it was a great performance. So thought everyone else, too, and when Elliott sang his last killing note and took a bow, he received a blazing wave of applause by the audience.

Well deserved, Chandler thought and put his phone away to be able and join into the cheering whole-heartedly. He also applauded proudly for Blaine and the background dancers. This was an exciting preview of what the concert tour would become: totally awesome!

Elliott and his dancing boys got off stage and made their way over to the bar. Chandler hurried to join them. He was afraid that people would fight to join Elliott for a drink, so he was baffled that as soon as the song ended people were spreading and leaving.

"What's going on?" he murmured to Blaine. "Why's everyone leaving?"

"It's the press people," Elliott replied, having overheard. "They're the first to leave the ship. They have all they need: A glimpse of the party crowd and a performance that they can review. They won't stay for the rest of the night. I'm sure there are more excited places to be. This is New York after all." Elliott shrugged. "I knew this. I've been warned."

"Well, we won't go anywhere," Chandler assured him cheerfully. "We'll stay for as long as you'll have us."

Blaine chuckled awkwardly and from the corner of his mouth he whispered to Chandler, "You're scaring him."

Chandler's brows narrowed and his mouth formed a perfect 'o' in confusion. How was he scaring the singer by telling him that they were staying with him? Elliott wouldn't think they were stalking him, would he?

"The performance was great," Elliott complimented his dancers. "Seeing how I surprised you tonight, you did a really good job."

"When are you going to join us for rehearsal?" Blaine wanted to know.

Elliott turned to him in genuine surprise. "Why would I join you?"

Blaine was confused. "Aren't you joining us in the dance routine?"

"I'm a singer, not a dancer," Elliott said with a shrug. "That's what I got you guys for. I thought we'd do the concerts just like we did the gig tonight. Me in the front at the microphone stand, and you guys in the background dancing, thus the term background dancers." His wording may come across as condescending, but he said it with a disarming smile and a charming chuckle. He knew the worth of his dancers.

"Well, I think it's necessary to integrate you into the dancing performance," Blaine said. "But it's your choice, of course."

"It's not a choice," Elliott replied. "It's not possible to sing and dance at the same time."

"Of course it is," Blaine replied with a laugh, thinking that Elliott pulled his leg.

"Yeah, boygroups in the 90s combined singing and dancing, and do you know how they did that? They were using playback," Elliott said.

"I was lead singer in glee club in high school and I used to dance and sing," Blaine replied. "It totally works. Granted, it takes some practice, especially a certain breathing tactic, but I think it's worth it. I think a performance is boring for the audience if the lead singer is rooted in the front motionlessly."

"Show me!" Elliott challenged Blaine. "If it's as easy as you say."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but then he thought better of it. The stage was alluring. He hadn't sung in a long time and he knew Starchild's songs by heart. Everytime in rehearsal he itched to sing the lyrics out loud. "All right," Blaine asked three of his team mates to join him.

"Amazing!" Chandler quickly got his phone out again to record Blaine on stage.

The crowd had lessened but there were still enough people around to witness the performance. Elliott stood next to Chandler in the front, waiting to be impressed. Blaine went to the stereo and chose the music for one of Starchild's songs. Chandler immediately recognized it as Better Than I Know Myself. Chandler was so in love with this song, it was the perfect choice.

He had never seen Blaine sing live before. After he had met Kurt back in Lima and had been 'rejected' by him in favor of his boyfriend, Chandler had gathered all the internet had to offer about show choir performances by both The Warblers and New Directions. He was stunned by both Kurt's and Blaine's performance skills, solo or duets. He knew that Blaine was crazy talented, but he had yet to see him live.

"I know it gets hard sometimes
But I could never leave your side
No matter what I say

Cause if I wanted to go I would have gone by now,
But I really need you near me to
Keep my mind off the edge
If I wanted to leave I would have left by now,
But you're the only one that knows me
Better than I know myself"

In Chandler's eyes Blaine's performance was more mesmerizing than Elliott's performance had been. Blaine was an amazing and devoted dancer, but his voice was killing it. And his eyes! Chandler could tell that Blaine poured all his soul into this song. There was no doubt for Chandler that Blaine was singing for Kurt. It was no coincidence that he chose this song. With every breath he drew, Blaine was thinking of Kurt, wanting to understand him, wishing to know him inside out. It was so romantic that Chandler's heart bled, not only wishing that Blaine and Kurt would finally reunite, but also hoping for such a romance for himself.

The applause Blaine received was weaker, because there weren't many people around anymore, but Chandler could tell the cheering was more genuine. Blaine had taken the remaining party crowd by surprise. It made Chandler feel bad for Elliott, but at the same time extremely proud of Blaine.

He looked over at Elliott when Blaine took a playful bow, not basking in the applause, but humbly accepting it in the sweet way Blaine always handled things.

Chandler quickly shared the clip of his recording with Kurt. He didn't know if Kurt was still awake, but he needed to watch Blaine perform this song. This was swoon-worthy. Kurt would love it.

Elliott wore an expression of utter surprise, and he was still clapping when everyone else wasn't. He seemed to be genuinely taken with Blaine's hell of a performance. "That was fantastic!" Elliott said when Blaine joined them.

"Thank you," Blaine shrugged like he meant to shrug the compliment off.

"No, I mean it, you didn't tell me you had a voice like that!" Elliott almost sounded offended.

"Well, you're the singer here, I'm just part of your dance group," Blaine said, shrugging again.

"You need to shake off your modesty. You have real talent, Blaine. You should pursue a career in music."

"Yeah, I'm working on that," Blaine replied.

"All you have to do is make people see you, hear you," Elliott advised. "If you want to be heard you gotta say it loud," Elliott explained and winked at them. "Lady Gaga taught me that."

"You're friends with Lady Gaga?" Chandler asked wide-eyed.

"No, but I'm her biggest fan." Elliott gave a lop-sided grin.

Chandler nodded all serious. He was thrilled that Starchild was a fanboy himself.

"Anyway, did you see what I did?" Blaine asked all teacher-like. "The most important part when singing and dancing is that you need to get in sync with your breathing and body control. I can show you how, if you like."

"You mean like, giving me lessons?" Elliott asked, contemplating the idea. "I guess I never gave the matter much thought. You think it'd be cool if I rocked a few dance moves?" he turned to Chandler with the question and for a second Chandler was too blissed out to be able to say anything.

"Definitely," Blaine answered instead. "And, I mean, I'm not a choreographer like Marcus, but I guess I could show you a few tricks."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Starchild," some guy with horned glasses pushed his recording device between Blaine and Elliott. "That was some unexpected performance. How come you had your dancer sing one of your songs?"

"Oh, that was just a little impromptu thing," Elliott laughed.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name," the man addressed Blaine directly.

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine humbly introduced himself. "I'm just a regular student at Juilliard. This was really nothing praise-worthy. I just wanted to show Elliott how to dance and sing at the same time and-"

"And he really surprised all of us!" Elliott wrapped his arm around Blaine's shoulders, shaking him affectionately. "Boy, had I known he had this amazing voice I wouldn't have let him sing!" Elliott gave a wink and ruffled up Blaine's hair. "Nothing praise-worthy? Don't be so humble. You should be at American Idol rather than Fashion Hero, if you ask me."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but press time is over," the woman from Elliott's agency interrupted strictly, stepping between them and not looking sorry at all. "Elliott, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Oh, okay," Elliott shrugged apologetically to everyone and followed his agent.

"Which paper are you from?"Chandler asked the reporter before the man disappeared, too.

"NYC Rock & Pop Weekly," the man replied and flashed his press card.

"I'll make sure to catch your article," Chandler said smiling.

When everyone left and Chandler and Blaine stood by themselves. Chandler could barely contain his excitement. He threw himself at Blaine, hugging him. "You were magnificent!"

Blaine laughed heartily. "Well, thank you. Excuse me a second. I'll have to talk to Marcus."

"Sure." Chandler ordered diet coke while checking his e-mails. Sitting down on a bar stool Chandler realized how hungry he was. The only thing the party was missing was food. No wonder the guests fled so quickly.

His phone beeped and he was happy to see Kurt respond to his video. Thank you for sending me the clip. Blaine is perfect. I love the song. Is it from Starchild? - Kurt

Yes, it's on his debut album! You're welcome! What are you doing? Binge watching some TV show? - Chandler

No, not feeling well. - K

What's wrong? Anything I can do? - C

I'm at Genius' place. Don't ask. I can't believe it either. - K

Genius? I thought you hated each other! What happened? - C

Not sure. I'm so confused right now. I drank. Please don't judge me. - K

Never! What's going on? - C

I'm so stupid. I drank with Andrew. Looks like he slipped me drugs. I don't know what to do. - K

Omgomgomg! We're coming! Give me Genius' address! - C

You don't have to. I'm dealing with this alone. I don't want to ruin your party fun. - K

I'm not leaving you alone in a crisis! I want to see you and I bet Blaine will feel the same way. - C

I don't want for Blaine to miss out on the party. - K

It's over already anyway. Please let us come and see you. You need us! - C

Chandler waited almost a whole minute, sitting at the edge of his seat and staring at his phone, willing Kurt to say yes. Finally another text arrived.

Genius said it's ok for you to come over if you bring food from the Italian place down the street. His address is xxx. Don't tell Blaine about the drugs, I'm begging you. - K

Instantly Chandler jumped off the bar stool and hurried over to where Blaine was standing with Marcus and the rest of the dancing group. He grabbed Blaine's arm and dragged him away. "We have to leave!"

"Why do you want to leave?" Blaine was confused. "Wait, we have to say goodbye to Elliott!"

"No time," Chandler said, because he saw that Elliott was surrounded by his people and it would take a polite minute to approach him and another polite minute to wait until they could say their goodbye's.

"It's Kurt!" Chandler hoped this would settle Blaine's concern about being impolite and he wasn't mistaken. Just saying Kurt's name was all it took to have Blaine's attention.

"What about Kurt?" Blaine instantly quickened his pace next to Chandler and willingly followed him to the elevator.

"I just texted with him. Something's wrong."

"What do you mean wrong?" Blaine grew impatient. "What did he say?"

"He was a bit cryptic. Apparently something happened with Andrew."

"With Andrew?" Blaine repeated, sounding horrified.

"Don't worry, he's at Genius's place now."

"Genius' place?" Blaine was utterly confused now.

"Oh, and we're supposed to bring food."


Thank you for reading!

Next chapter we'll have Kurt, Blaine, Chandler and Genius in one place together, discussing Andrew.

Big kisses to SonofLuffy for all your help! Love ya! :)