Chapter 3

Lions, Twinks, and Bears

oOo

Thursday, 31 October 2024

The kettle on the stove let out its high-pitched whistle signaling Kurt, curled up under a fleece blanket with the full bowl of Halloween candy, watching reruns of America's Next Top Model, to get off of the couch. He pushed the blanket away and padded barefoot into the kitchen. As warm as his cozy pajamas were, the hardwood floor, however, was frigid upon the soles of his feet when he transitioned from the fluffy rug to the hard floor.

Avoiding the jet of steam being expelled from the spout, he turned off the burner to the stove and picked up the kettle by the handle to pour the boiling liquid over the little bag of pomegranate-chamomile tea.

He couldn't begin to feel guilty or lame for staying in. He might have worked at Vogue, but his colleagues, more so than him, were avid pursuers of the nightclub scene. Now that he was in his thirties, he had quickly grown out of pretending he was having a good time in a loud room full of people he didn't know. There was nothing wrong with a bit of self-indulgent me time, especially when he was surrounded by a group of people every day. He was perfectly content with spending the evening in—just being lazy after a long day at work, with a relaxing cup of tea followed by a lavender and sea salt bath.

It was a shame, though, how he hadn't received any trick-or-treaters that evening. Not that he was really expecting any - especially in such a high-end apartment like the one he recently moved into. Most of the tenants here were like him: successful business people, wealthy execs, maybe a performer or actor here and there who happened to travel a lot and is in need of a quiet and discrete, yet discerning and comfortable, place to stay. While young kids were not completely nonexistent in the building, from what he had seen, the tenets of the building who were parents were those with babies and toddlers, as the spacious apartments were efficient for starting families, but not quite enough room for those expecting more little pitter-patters of tiny feet in the future.

The biggest travesty, however, was how he would have to eat all the candy by himself, and he knew that wouldn't do him (or his ass) any favors considering his sedentary job. He figured he could compromise by going to the gym, which he had forgotten was on the eighth floor. But just as he was about to get the bottle of honey out of the cabinet, he had to change his mind about resorting to eating the candy himself as he heard a knock at the door.

Kurt frowned as he turned around, glancing at the analog clock on the microwave. It was a quarter past nine and he didn't think parents would want their children out trick-or-treating so late and on a school night.

Kurt replaced the kettle on top of the stove as he walked to the door, picking up the bowl of candy on the way, just in case. He squinted through the peephole to find two distorted figures standing outside his door dressed up as Batman and Catwoman. Kurt knew immediately who it was despite their faces being concealed. He shook his head in amusement as he moved away from the door, setting the bowl on the table.

Kurt opened the door, the latch still in place, to take a peek out into the hall. The taller one didn't look all that amused in his tight, gray and black outfit, cape, and yellow utility belt à la Adam West. He had his arms crossed snugly in front of him. The tinier woman was clad in a skin-tight, black leather outfit reminiscent of Nicole Kidman's Catwoman, and she was practically bouncing up and down in excitement. Both of them, however, were much too old to be trick-or-treating.

"I'm not being robbed am I?" Kurt asked, chortling.

"Kurt!" The woman pulled her mask off and cascades of thick, black hair fell down, framing her beaming face, revealing the identity of one Rachel Hudson neé Berry.

"Surprise!" she burst, her arms held out jubilantly.

"Hold on," Kurt rang out in a sing-song voice as he shut the door on them and removed the latch. When he opened the door once more, it was to have Rachel launching herself at him, squealing. He hugged her back in equal enthusiasm, if not a hint of shock.

"Oh, wow... Hi!" he said brightly as she finally let him go, but his face betrayed his concern. He considered the possibility of a motive behind their surprise arrival. "If I knew you two were going to drop by, I would have made myself a little more decent." He looked down at his red and black fleece pajama pants and his fitted long sleeve shirt.

"You're fine. We haven't seen the new place yet. We thought we'd surprise you. Right, Finn?" she turned her head towards her husband in the threshold who looked away stubbornly.

"Right," he agreed like a reprimanded child.

"Hello, Finn," Kurt said lightly acknowledging his younger, but definitely not smaller, step-brother. Finn clapped his shoulder briefly in greeting. "What's wrong with him?" Kurt asked, turning to Rachel this time.

"He's mad he couldn't go trick-or-treating." Rachel looked at him disapprovingly as he hovered over the candy bowl still filled to the brim. Rachel moved in towards the living room with Kurt, who turned off the television.

Rachel walked around the apartment, examining the chandelier in the shape of a starburst, which he hung above the round kitchen table as well as the inky-skyline and city lights visible just beyond the windows.

"You've outdone yourself, Kurt. The place looks amaz—Finn!" she cut herself off. "If you get sick later from overdosing on sugar and alcohol, I will not be held responsible." She pointed a stern finger in his direction.

"Yeah, yeah." Finn waved her off as he picked up a bag of M&Ms and tore the paper with his teeth before pouring the contents in his hand.

"Are you guys on your way back from a party?" Kurt asked curiously, crossing his arms as Rachel sat down on his couch and primly crossed her legs.

"Actually..." Rachel dragged out, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "We're on our way to a party."

It didn't take Kurt long to understand what she was implying, and he backed away slowly, shaking his head.

"No. No way are you dragging me to some costume party and... Getting me drunk and whatnot. No thank you. I have to go to work tomorrow."

"Oh, come on, Kurt. It's one night of your life," Rachel whined standing up. Even her sleek, black stilettos couldn't bring her to Kurt's height. "It'll be fun. And it's not a costume party per se. It's at a bar. Please? For me?"

Rachel gave him her best-dejected look, fluttering her eyelashes, which were thick with mascara. Kurt saw the tears welling up in her tear ducts and he unfolded his arms, letting them drop to his sides in defeat.

"Damn you, Rachel Berry, and your ability to cry on cue," he stated ruefully. Rachel immediately looked pleased and she clapped her hands together knowing that she had been able to make Kurt cave.

"But I didn't buy a new costume this year," Kurt mentioned, turning around to face her once more after starting on his way to the bedroom. He thought it could provide him with one last excuse as to why he would be unable to go out with them. "Everything I have here I've already worn."

"Please," she waved him off dismissively. "Do you honestly think Finn hasn't worn his costume before?" Finn looked up quickly, his mouth full of Butterfinger and he shook his head in warning.

"But I've never seen Finn wear that befo... Oh!" A look of horror and realization distorted his features and he clapped his hands over his ears as Rachel blushed furiously. "Ew! No! I don't want to know about your guy's freaky sex life. No." He walked out of the room just as Rachel threw her mask at him.

"Go get dressed, Kurt!"

o0o

They left ten minutes later once Kurt dressed. The three of them hailed and climbed into the back of a taxi much to the cabbie's amusement, having to pull over and pick up an overgrown Batman, Catwoman, and Kurt dressed opposite of Natalie Portman as V, himself, from V for Vendetta. It was a good thing he was able to find his sai swords to complete the outfit, along with his mask and wig, which were all hiding in one of his boxes in the back of his closet that he hadn't bothered to unpack – boxes that were all labeled miscellaneous, high school, or college - all things that he couldn't bear to throw away but didn't serve many purposes aside from sentimental value.

When the three of them arrived at their destination—much to Finn's relief after complaining that Kurt's sword kept sticking his in his side—the first thing Kurt noticed was that the sign over the establishment said HEatwave, and the second being that the ridiculously long line went completely around the building, blocked off by red, velvet ropes, containing all the costumed partygoers. Kurt grimaced. It didn't take much convincing for Rachel to get him out of the house, but he didn't think he would have to wait in a line all night.

"Rachel, this place is ridiculously busy," he said, his voice muffled by his mask as he followed Rachel down the sidewalk to the front of the line.

"Just hold on a second," Rachel said as she literally walked toward the bouncer who was letting the people in. Kurt sighed, knowing exactly what she was going to do. He watched as she pulled her ID out of her tight sleeve and flashed it at the colossal bouncer. He automatically lifted the velvet rope away to let her through. When the bouncer attempted to stop Kurt and Finn from following her, she spoke up.

"They're with me," she said brightly, and he nodded in understanding, allowing Kurt and Finn to follow her through into the deafening club.

"What a blatant abuse of power," Kurt huffed once they were inside. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he looked around at his surroundings.

"Hey, it's not like I'm the President of the United States," she said defensively, placing her hands on her tiny waist. Finn placated her by placing his hand on top of hers and pecking the top of her leather mask.

"My wife, the Broadway star," he said fondly and she looked up at him through her eyelashes with adoring eyes. When Finn spared a glance around the club, looking at the occupants clogging the vast dance floor, bar, and tables, he frowned. "There sure are a lot of guys here." He pointed out.

Kurt noticed the same thing. There was not one person in the club not wearing a costume of some sort. He spotting one particularly ripped guy at the bar wearing a fake mane of sorts, a detachable lion tail, and ears. He noticed a couple of John Travolta - Grease - lookalikes, with their slick, oily black hair and leather jackets, and even a Doctor Frank-N-Furter, heels and all. But the one thing everyone had in common was the obvious fact that they were all, well, male.

"Is this a gay bar?" Finn perked up, mildly impressed with himself that it took him that long to realize the estrogen that was lacking in the room.

Kurt, however, was not pleased.

"Rachel..." he said in a dangerously low growl."I know what you're doing and no, I'm not interested in hooking up with anybody." He raised his mask away from his face.

"Kurt, it's been two months. Almost three." Kurt rolled his eyes. "I just thought you would like to go out as a free man, maybe meet some people. I mean, Finn and I are married. You're single. What would be a better place to spend a night out?" Kurt lowered his mask, shaking his head wearily.

"I need a drink."

They squeezed between some guys at the bar, and he flashed his ID, the bartender barely glancing at it as he and ordered a Lemon Drop. Beside him, Rachel wrung her hands out in front of herself anxiously.

"Well, at least let me pay for it?" She asked, sounding genuinely apologetic for striking the wrong chord. "I know you think we're just trying to help you move on from Blaine, but there was another reason that I wanted to take you out tonight."

"And what's that?" Kurt asked turning towards her expectantly.

"I'm pregnant."

Kurt burst out laughing, throwing his head back so that his hat nearly fell off.

"Right. You're pregnant so we go to a gay bar. That makes perfect sense." When he looked back at Rachel she smiled meekly and his expression underneath his mask changed to one of incredulity.

"Holy crap. You're serious?" he demanded, tearing his mask off once more. She nodded.

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed. "Well, what the hell are we doing here, then? You can't drink."

"I know that." It was her turn to roll her eyes. "I wanted to spend one last night with you before... Well..." She started to get choked up and Kurt knew she wasn't acting this time. "It's not like we'll be able to see each other as often once the baby is born. Besides, I doubt I'll ever be able to fit into this thing again." She looked down at her bodysuit miserably

"Rachel, honey… No..." Kurt's demeanor changed immediately as he reached out and took her hands in his. "This is a beautiful thing. You're going to be a mom. Have you any idea how amazing that is? You and Finn are giving life to something other than an incredible duet," she gave him a watery smile as she looked down at their hands shyly. "And I, for one, can't wait to see what a Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson baby grows up to be." He gave her hands a squeeze.

Rachel sniffled before practically crying out, "I'm going to be a mom!" as if she just made the connection then and she covered her mouth. Rachel laughed, as Kurt squeezed her carefully to him, suddenly mindful of her tummy."

"No, you're going to be a great one." They stayed in each other's comforting and friendly embrace, the only noises being the liveliness of the occupants in the room surrounding them. "God, I can't believe it," he breathed, before letting out a squeak and pulling away from her quickly, holding her shoulders at arm's length.

"I'm going to be an uncle!" His eyes were wide in realization and Rachel nodded enthusiastically. When he let go, she wiped underneath her eyes, fixing her makeup.

"What about Finn? Does he know?" he asked excitedly.

"Not yet," Rachel said guiltily. "I thought I'd give him one last night of freedom before he has to dote on me and the baby. I'm going to tell him in the morning. I already told Dads the other day, but I was still kind of nervous about telling Finn. What if something happens? What if he gets called back into the service? And obviously, I will be on pregnancy leave soon. I don't remember the scene in Wicked where Elphaba gets pregnant." She gnawed on her lip nervously. Kurt laughed, imagining the plot twist of a pregnant Rachel being suspended in the air while belting out the verses during the dramatic climax in Defying Gravity.

"Sweetie, I know there is always a chance that something could happen to send Finn back overseas, but whatever happens at least you'll know that you have me, your parents, Carole, my dad… We're all here for you. Okay? And I'm sorry for getting upset before. I know you're just worried about me since the divorce. But I'll be fine." He gave her a reassuring smile. "If anything was wrong, you would be the first to know."

"Yeah," she sighed and Kurt could visibly see her relax, her shoulders lowering considerably. "Speaking of Finn, though, I'm pretty sure he was dragged onto the dance floor by a drag queen. I'll be right back, okay? I'm just gonna go see if I can find him."

"Be careful," Kurt shouted as he watched her walk away. When he turned back to the bar, he was handed his martini by the bartender. He accepted it, mouthing a thank you, and he stared into its contents happy to think about the future of the Hudson-Berry family and what it would be like to be an uncle—that is until he felt an unwelcome hand upon his waist.

o 0o

Dave scratched at his thick, fake beard and adjusted the Baby Bjorn carrier that he borrowed from Evelyn, containing the fake baby strapped to his chest as he followed Travis into the club. They didn't have to wait in line, considering the club itself belonged to a friend of Travis's.

Travis stayed farther up ahead of Dave as they weaved in and out of the people in the club, and Dave wasn't oblivious to the fact that Travis was doing a good job at putting some distance between the two of them. While he looked silly in his own garb, Travis looked elegant in his tux and silver and black masquerade mask—like he was about to attend a ball. He wasn't sure why Travis invited him to go out with his architect friends when he couldn't even stand within three feet within each other's vicinity. Not that he really cared. He didn't have anything in common with Travis's snobbish colleagues, so when he noticed that Travis spotted his friends on the opposite side of the bar, Dave inconspicuously took his wrist so that he turned around.

"You go ahead," he said. "It's a bit crowded on that end. I'll just hang out over here."

Travis gave him a curious look, but then shrugged.

"If you insist," he said, and as soon as Dave let go of him he was walking away. Dave sighed, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous in his fluffy auburn wig and fake beard. Travis knew that he was a bit of a nerd and Dave wasn't sure why he would invite him if he was embarrassed by him. After all, The Hangover, and particularly Zach Galifianakis's character, was practically the epitome of pop-culture when he was a teenager, and if Dave was going to be dragged to some club when he could be at home writing, then he would, at least, dress up as something he liked and not care about what other people thought about him. He did enough of that in high school.

Just as he was about to order himself a beer, he could hear a raised voice down along the bar a few feet away from him and he couldn't help but listen in.

o0o

"Hey, sweetheart." Kurt jerked his head towards the space where Rachel was just standing to see an overly cocky face smirking at him.

"Can I help you?" Kurt snarled, taking the wrist and removing it forcefully from his body. He shook his head before shifting his body away from the man.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that." Kurt glared through the slits in the mask as the twink had the nerve to reach across him, moving in closer. There was no way he could have been older than twenty-four, and Kurt wondered if he would be as insistent in his conquest if he knew he was, at least, five years older than him.

Probably.

"Come on, don't you take that mask off?" The poor excuse of an Indiana Jones look-a-like was practically feeling upon him. Kurt cringed, trying to shift away from the creep, but finding himself unable to budge due to how crowded the bar was. The other customers behind him were holding him in place. Kurt couldn't help but think of the situation as ironic as he began feeling increasingly uncomfortable, the air in the room in his mask growing thin and himself, light-headed. V was supposed to be such a heroic character.

He couldn't even help himself.

o0o

Dave couldn't help but wonder why the other man didn't try to defend himself with the swords attached to his hip.

"No." The man's protests were becoming weaker as Dave's heart continued to thud faster in pure rage.

"Come on, why don't we go play our own version of trick-or-treating in the bathroom. You open up, and I'll give you my sweets."

Dave gritted his teeth as he felt a churning in his gut as he saw the unmasked man's hand dip lower from where it was sitting on the other man's waist and, despite not being able to see the other man's features, he noticed a slight tremor of revolt go through him. Without thinking, Dave pushed himself away from the bar and strode the short distance between him and the two men. He decided that he had seen enough.

"Hey," he said, sneaking up behind the guy and placing his hand on his shoulder spinning him around. "Why don't you beat it, buddy, obviously the guy's not interested."

Once the surprise on the guy's face died away, he cocked his head disinterestedly as his eyes slid up and down Dave's body, taking in the tight, belted white bell-bottom pants, grey and pink shirt, the fake, plastic baby doll strapped to his chest and, finally, the sunglasses and fake wig and beard.

"Can I help you, asshole?"

"No, but you can leave my date alone for one." The guy seemed shocked, and Dave was pretty sure if he could see the other man's face, he would be shocked too.

"You're with this guy?" The prick turned back to the man dressed completely in black and jabbed a thumb behind him towards Dave. When he made no effort to disagree with him, the blonde scoffed, shaking his head before leaving, muttering something about horrible tastes.

Dave watched as the man disappeared into the crowd. He didn't have any reason to believe that he would be back, but for some reason, he stayed close to the man… V.

"Zach Galifianakis… My hero." Dave heard the man breathe in a swoon. And then seriously, "Thank you. You really didn't have to do that."

"It's fine," Dave shrugged. "Just because we're in a gay bar doesn't mean it's a free-for-all. Obviously, that guy was out of line."

"I hope you didn't just say you were my date because you were expecting something from me?" he intoned suspiciously. He tilted his head so that the straight strands of hair from the wig sway against the mask. The person in the mask had a high, almost haughty voice, and he couldn't help but be entranced by it.

"No, of course not… That is, unless, you allow me to buy you another drink? He could have put something in yours. It's better to be safe than sorry."

"That would be exceedingly kind of you." Dave could almost hear the smile in the man's voice. His eyes flicked over the man's shoulder to the opposite side of the bar. He spotted Travis, being his usual charismatic and suave self as he hammed it up with his buddies. Dave felt surprised by his lack of guilt. But why should he feel guilty? He was talking to the guy, not blowing him.

"So... You... Oh, oh my God." The masked man stammered and Dave turned his attention back to him. "Um… I'm sorry. I need to… I need to use the restroom. Excuse me." Dave couldn't begin to understand why he felt so dejected as he stared after the man who weaved in and out of people on his way towards the bathroom, but his thoughts of his rescuee were interrupted by the rich, English accent of his boyfriend behind him.

"David? Who was that you were just talking to?"

"Hmm…?" he intoned noncommittally. "Oh. I don't know. I didn't see his face," Dave said nonchalantly. The bartender had since taken the full martini glass away to make room for more customers, leaving no trace of the man behind.

"He wasn't coming on to you, was he?"

"Dressed like this?" Dave said motioning to his baby carrier and beard. "Course not."

"Oh… Well, my friend Jonathon… I don't think you met him before. He said he used to read your sports column every day. He wanted to..." Dave's eyes wandered toward the bathroom where the man had disappeared, not listening to a word Travis was saying.

'My hero.'

The voice kept replaying itself over and over again in his head. He didn't pay much attention to it before, but he couldn't help but find it familiar, like a voice in a dream. But considering this was New York, he easily could have been talking to an actor, or even a recording artist simply searching for a night of anonymity. So as he allowed his boyfriend to pull him in the direction of his friends, he attempted to push away the thoughts of the masked man, simply chalking their meeting up as a simple blip in time. He felt silly for thinking anything could come of their talk; especially now with his boyfriend's hand in his. He knew better than anyone else that some things were just not meant to be.

o0o

Kurt hated that he bailed on the very man who had saved him. He had been surprisingly sweet, and he couldn't help but be pleasantly amused by his get-up: the obviously fake and grotesque beard and wig, as well as the silver aviator glasses on both him and the fake plastic baby completely obscuring his face. Although he had advised Rachel that there was no way he would be hooking up that evening, he could have, in the very least, asked the man for his name and number. Maybe they could have gone out again some other time and in a much quieter location. But who was he kidding? He wasn't ready for a new relationship. At least not yet. And his reaction to seeing the man across the room… the very person that sent him running to the bathroom, revealed some semblance of uncertainty when it came to the close of the one and the only relationship he had ever been in.

Kurt stood with his masked forehead pressed up against the stall. He knew he should have stayed home that night and never have let Rachel convince him to go out. Of all the bars in New York, why did he have to be here of all places?

"Kurt?" Kurt heard the bathroom door open and shut and he cursed quietly. "Kurt, I know that's you. You only wore that on Halloween during your senior year at NYU. Besides… There was no way I couldn't mistake that giant with the awful dance moves on the dance floor for Finn."

Kurt sighed disparagingly as he slowly opened the door, and when he shuffled out of the stall, it was to be face to face with none other than his ex-husband himself.

"Hi," Kurt said softly, slipping off his mask to rub his hand over his face in a mixture of weariness and unexplainable shyness.

Blaine looked the same as he did when he last saw him, which would make sense, considering the short time that had passed since they sat in their old apartment, signing the last of their divorce papers. Despite being dressed up and looking as completely ridiculous as thirty-year-olds at a frat party—Blaine looking like the perfect, if not stunted, Superman, a black, gelled curl coming down to his forehead—the space in, around, and between them was serious.

"Hey." Blaine's tone was sympathetic and Kurt had to turn his head away from his compassionate, yet scrutinizing eyes, easily examining him in silent judgment, checking for cracks in his veneer. He hated how Blaine was able to pick up on his various and subtle nuances both on the surface as well as the secrets he hid in the darkest corners of his mind. It brought him back to his days in elementary school after his mother passed away and how his father and the school teachers felt he should talk to the counselor. He remembered how the strange woman would just sit quietly, her stare never wavering—as if she expected him to pour his soul out to a person he didn't even know—much like how he wasn't about to let himself pour his soul out to Blaine. At least, he didn't want to. But a crack in a dam could only hold the water in for so long.

"How's, um… Everything?"

"Okay." As Blaine nodded sadly, it didn't seem like it though. "You?"

"Great," Kurt croaked, not looking at Blaine. He fiddled with his mask instead.

"Which explains why you ran into the bathroom as soon as you saw me?" Blaine pursed his lips, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "Kurt, this was the last thing that I wanted when we got the divorce. I thought we agreed this was for the best?"

Kurt stared unblinkingly at Blaine and his sincere expression.

"I still don't understand where we went wrong." Kurt cursed himself silently when he was able to pick up the unmistakable tremor in his own voice. He licked his lips. "I thought I was doing fine adjusting to everything, but seeing you here tonight…? Seeing you so happy with the people you're with. I don't think I've ever seen you that happy when you were with me. And it hurts like hell." And there it went. The water bursting forth from the dam.

"Kurt…" Blaine took a step forward, reaching out in an attempt to console him, but Kurt shook his head.

"No, Blaine. I'm not mad. It's just…" he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "After everything… I could deal with losing my husband, but I never prepared myself for the possibility of losing my best friend."

"You'll always be my best friend, Kurt." Blaine reached out, gently taking Kurt's hand in his. Kurt didn't try to move away at that time. He looked down at their fingers loosely tangled with one another.

"I wish I could have tried harder for you…" Kurt said in a whisper, almost muted by the sound of the bass just outside the door. "To fix this. Fourteen years, Blaine… Eight married."

"Were you happy, Kurt?" Blaine asked suddenly, looking up. His brown, watery eyes were the closest thing to that of a scolded puppy dog.

"What?" The question caught Kurt off guard and not because he was offended that Blaine would ask him such a thing, but because seconds passed and he remained unable to answer Blaine's question.

"Were you happy in our marriage, truly?" he asked again, simply.

"I… I was with you," Kurt replied as if this reason alone would suffice.

"Is that really the best way to live your life? Relying on the expectation of happiness? Passively waiting for it to eventually wander towards you like a stray animal? Or actively searching for it yourself?" Blaine paused, searching for the right words to say. "It's like... Wanting to fly your favorite kite in a thunderstorm, Kurt." He paused once more, but this time to allow for the message to sink in. "Was I really that worth it?"

Kurt closed his eyes, actually mulling over the question.

"You keep saying you wished you could have tried harder. I might be studying psychology, Kurt, but even I couldn't begin to sort out all of my issues on my own."

"I said I would never say goodbye to you," Kurt said as if it would somehow change things.

"You don't have to. God... I mean, the last thing I ever wanted was for us to turn into my parents after their divorce. You know you can call me if you need anything. You are my best friend, Kurt," he said once more as he inclined his head to emphasize that fact. "No matter what happens, alright."

"Yeah." Kurt nodded bleakly.

"Come here." Blaine reached out for Kurt, and Kurt easily wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders and closed his eyes, but being mindful of his red cape. What Blaine started to move away, Kurt somehow found it that much easier to let go.

"I guess I better get back out there," he started regretfully, but then on a lighter note, placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. "My people need me." Kurt let out a wet-sounding laugh into his hand as he leaned back against the sink. Blaine had his hand on the doorknob, about to step back out onto the floor when he stopped.

"Um… What you said before... About me being happy out there. Some of my colleagues wanted to throw me a going-away party. I got accepted into a Psy. D program in California," he explained. "I'll be leaving this weekend."

Kurt blinked, standing up straighter.

"Blaine, that's great… I'm really happy for you." Kurt smiled when he realized that he genuinely meant it.

"Thanks, Kurt. I am happy and…" he swallowed thickly. "As much as you wanted to believe you were happy in our relationship... God, I hope someone comes along and can prove you wrong." He gave Kurt a sad smile before pulling open the door, the loud bass from the speakers quickly filling the silence of the small room.

When Blaine stepped out of the bathroom, Kurt had to wipe away the single, unexpected tear that ran down his cheek from Blaine's parting words. He turned the faucet on, splashing his face with some cool water before staring at his reflection dripping with water in the mirror before looking back down at the mask. Blaine was right. He spent so much time trying to do things right in their relationship, yet he never gave much thought to what a relationship of equals would be like. To simply be himself and to have someone to accept that of him, to not have to change or pretend to be something that he wasn't.

He drew himself up resolutely and pulled some paper towels out of the dispenser resolutely to wipe his face. Whether this happiness that Blaine talked about could be found, he wasn't sure, but as he walked out of the bathroom, chucking his mask—just another reminder of the façade he put up for Blaine—in the trash, he wasn't going to pretend for once second that he didn't deserve to grab a hold of it and never let go once he did.

o0o

It didn't take long for Kurt to find Rachel and Finn at the bar. Rachel was sipping on a coke (sans her usual rum, he was sure) and Finn was cuddling up to her after already having a couple of drinks.

"Kurt," Rachel voiced her concern as soon as she spotted him. "I was wondering where you got to. Is everything all right?"

"Yes... And no... Blaine is here. I just talked to him."

"Oh, Kurt... I had no idea he would be here."

"I know," Kurt said calmly. "It's okay, we... We're okay, but I think I want to get out of here. It's too loud and crowded and the talk we had kind of wore me out."

"Yeah. Of course," she said, handing some money to the bartender. "Was it bad?" she asked as they moved away from the bar and headed for the front door.

"No, I think it helped. Blaine has moved on. He's going on to get his doctorate. He's happy, and it just helped me realize that I could be too. I just don't think tonight's the night though," Kurt said with a tired laugh, implying the idea that maybe meeting someone new would help him take his mind off his ex.

"We're obviously not cut out for this partying lifestyle anymore. At least not this guy," she said, patting Finn's spandex-covered stomach affectionately. "What do you say we go to this amazing 24-hour diner down the block. I would literally kill for one of their veggie burgers." Kurt groaned.

"I don't think I've ever craved a chocolate shake and french fries so much in my life. Let's go." Kurt allowed Rachel to tuck her hand in his elbow and pull both him and Finn towards the exit, and on the way out, he was fairly certain he saw the glint of synthetic auburn hair flashing at him thanks to the rainbow strobe lights.

His mystery man.

Kurt sighed, eyeing the bearish-man who seemed to be wrapped up in conversation with an attractive forty-something-year-old, wearing a silvery suit that matched his short, salt and pepper hair.

Kurt sighed.

He didn't know what was more depressing: How fast others seemed to move on from him, or the fact that he was able to make a mountain out of a molehill of a situation. Apparently, the brief "something" he felt with the man was as fanciful and misleading as the happiness that he assumed with Blaine. Kurt looked at Rachel and Finn giggling and the sparkle in their eyes that was only intended for one another. Their relationship had been ripped apart sewn back together so many times due to distance, obligations and responsibilities, school, work, and, quite literally, war, that it only made the fabric of their love that much stronger. They were proof that if two people were meant to be, they were meant to be.

There was once a time when he believed Blaine to be his Prince... his happily ever after. But all fairy tales come to an end. He was ready for the next chapter in his life - a new adventure. If Blaine thought there was a greater chance at happiness waiting for him, then he would find it when the time was right. He would find something better.

One day, his king would come.