Warnings: bad language, implied sexual act
April
The no more crying rule lasted about twenty-four hours.
It only took finding some one of Sebastian's old socks in a basket of clothes before he broke down again. So much for being an untouchable tease. Blaine rolled his eyes at himself.
Now, almost two months later, Blaine had found his sea legs. It had helped that Sebastian had texted him a few times to check on him. He even apologized when he realized it had been Blaine's birthday the day he left. Much to his embarrassment, he had kind of hoped his ex would come to his senses and crawl back to him, but according to all the half naked men on his social media, that was not happening anytime soon. So, resigned to the fact that they were never ever getting back together, Blaine was doing better. He was working a lot and had really taken a hard look at his relationship with Sebastian and realized things hadn't been as perfect as he had thought. Still, he did love Sebastian and was a little disappointed he wouldn't even try to make things work. It just showed that they would have been doomed in the future anyway.
Blaine showed his ID to the security guard at the front of Montgomery Records and walked to the elevator while scrolling through his phone. He tapped an email from his boss Wes Montgomery telling him it would be fine to meet tomorrow and he sent back a quick reply. His stomach did a little flip at the thought. Before he made it to his office, one of his coworkers stopped him.
"Blaine! How was your weekend?"
"Hey, Nick. Pretty good. Quiet." He sat in old sweats and binged trashy shows while eating junk food and answering a few promising ads for a new roommate. Not sad at all."What about you?" He asked as he unlocked his office. "Did you take your girlfriend to that restaurant we talked about?"
Nick's nose wrinkled. "Oh, god no. We broke up a month ago. She kept thinking I was cheating on her so she put broken glass in my ice maker." He shuddered.
Blaine's eyes widened as he stepped into his office and got settled behind his desk. "Wow. Sorry about that." He thought briefly of mentioning that he knew exactly what he was going through. The breakup, that is. Not the attempted murder. He didn't though. He wasn't really sure Nick would want to hear about it. No one had noticed or mentioned it at least when he took the picture he kept of him and Sebastian off his desk. No one asked where his ring went or why he stopped mentioning his fiancé. He supposed it was kind of a mercy.
"Well," Nick continued, clearing unable to read Blaine's darkening thoughts. "It's totally fine. I'm over it. I'm actually thinking about asking out Jeff. You know, Wes' assistant? What do you think?"
Blaine smiled at him over his laptop and pulled a few files he was working on. "Good luck. He's really cute."
Nick grinned bashfully and turned to leave. "Yeah. Yeah he is. I think I'll— Oh! Meant to give this to you earlier! It was put with my stuff by mistake." He handed Blaine a small cardboard box with his name on it and waved before leaving the office.
Blaine turned the box over curiously and frowned at the address. He didn't remember ordering anything… Dread filled his stomach with acid as it hit him. He tore open the box and came face to face with beautifully written Save-the-Date cards on ivory card stock.
It was like he was being broken up with all over again.
Tears dropped onto the cards as he remembered ordering them secretly and having them sent here so he could surprise Sebastian with them. He had hoped seeing something like this would get him more excited about planning the wedding when he had been less than enthusiastic about the whole thing. Well, now he knew why Sebastian had dug his heels in at least.
Blaine pulled a card out and studied it. It was lovely. A different feeling burned in his gut now: anger. He had tried to make something beautiful and happy out of their lives and Sebastian had torn it all up like a goddamn piece of tissue paper. He looked out his window, suddenly fighting the urge to upturn the box out the window and watch the cards flutter away like little white birds. He couldn't really, of course, because the windows didn't open and he would never litter, but the desire to destroy at least one was there. He tossed the box to the floor to recycle later and crumpled the one in his hand as he yanked his little metal trash can up and threw it in there. He dug his lighter out of his bag and lit the little ball of paper on fire. He watched the flames lick through the paper, turning it to ash, with satisfaction. It was like his very own Eliza Hamilton moment. Sort of.
Then Blaine realized he had started an OPEN FIRE in his trash can at WORK and he quickly came to his senses. A splash of his coffee put out what was left of the little flame with a sizzle and he waved away any smoke. Not time to lose his head now. No, he would focus all his attention on a new project. The very one he would be discussing with Wes tomorrow.
The next day
"You want to go out and find your own band to produce like I've been begging you to for months?" Wes said as he chewed on the ear piece of his glasses. "You want to scout?"
Blaine nodded enthusiastically from his seat opposite Wes in his office. Wes was seated at his desk, his chin now resting on his folded fingers.
"I want to start this from the ground up. All the other artists are well taken care of and I think I'm finally ready." He looked down at his folded hands that rested on his lap. He rubbed the faded indent on his left ring finger. "On a more personal note, if I may, I am at a good point to do this. I have no other plans that would get in the way and I am totally ready for this. Please, Wes?"
His boss held up his hands. "Hey, I have no problem with this. I gotta say, I'm really sorry to hear your engagement's off, but I'm all for you doing this. Just for the love of all that is holy, make them read the contract before they sign. I am NOT getting sued again because of some entitled prick."
Blaine nodded, already excited at the prospects. Wes was behind him one hundred percent and he itched to get out there and find his new baby. Was this healthy to replace his love life with work? Probably not, but he was feeling stronger and more like himself every day and he needed a fresh start. He needed to give some wide-eyed kid their big break and feel like he had a purpose again. Yes, he definitely needed this.
"Also," Wes continued. "If they are hesitant, charm the pants off of them. Anything to convince them." He stopped and frowned. "Wait, I didn't mean sexually. I mean, I guess if it were a guy. Because you're gay. I mean, that's not what— Okay, to be clear, you don't have to prostitute yourself for this. Shit. Please don't sue me. This isn't coming out right."
Blaine smiled at Wes' floundering and waved it away.
"Don't worry, Wes. This is going to be my life's work and I don't intend on walking away once I've found the right talent."
May
Blaine sighed and crossed the name he had written down off his list in disappointment. The pretty blonde woman up on stage had been charming at first and a great dancer, but she didn't quite have the vocal range he was looking for and her songs were just weird. That song was supposedly about a cup, but it sounded kind of dirty to him. He dropped his pen down and leaned back in his chair in frustration.
This coffee house his new roommate had mentioned to him had an open mic night and while the performers had been fun, it wasn't quite what he was looking for. It had been a month since he had agreed to the assignment from Wes and while his boss was patient, Blaine was starting to doubt himself.
He sipped his now cold coffee and wondered if he should just give up. He felt eyes on him again and looked up to see that barista staring at him. He looked away quickly when Blaine caught him, but he just rolled his eyes.
Dating. Just the thought left him feeling anxious and inadequate. He had discarded any notions of finding a boyfriend ever again and focused solely on his mission for work. He had gone on one very terrible date that his roommate had set up for him with a guy from her work, but he just decided it was best if he was single. He was doing much better nowadays, and while he still cared about Sebastian, he knew now he wasn't in love with him and probably hadn't been for some time.
Ugh, now the barista was coming over here. Blaine felt queasy and tried to gather his things quickly to leave. If only he could be aloof and not give off friendly vibes. He just wanted to work and not be hit on—
"Are you like a talent agent or something?"
"I'm not interested!"
They spoke at the same time.
"What?" The barista asked as he pretended to wipe off Blaine's table with a glance back over his shoulder at his manager presumably.
"I'm— Uh, yeah, sort of," Blaine responded to his earlier question. "Why?"
The guy grinned and started digging in his pockets. He pulled a wrinkled flyer out and shoved it at Blaine before wiping down the already clean table beside him.
"The band I'm in will be there Friday night for Battle of the Bands. You should come and see us. We are pretty awesome."
Blaine eyed him. He was fairly attractive with a confident air about him and a Mohawk that gave him a certain edginess. "What kind of band are you?"
"Punk rock or hard rock. We put on a damn good show. Just need someone to give us our big break."
Blaine inspected the flyer he had thrust at him and saw it was at a bar on Friday night. This could actually be perfect. Even if this guy's band sucked, maybe he might discover another one.
"I'll come," Blaine said and the barista grinned triumphantly. "What's your name and your band's name?"
"Puck," he said and offered Blaine a fist bump which he reciprocated. "The band is called The Lima Losers. You won't be disappointed."
Blaine gathered his things as Puck waved and got back to the counter. This was a promising lead. Maybe he might find what he was looking for at the event.
Friday night
The bar On The Rocks was situated in between a little vegan cafe and a bodega and was already thumping music when Blaine arrived. He had dressed casually in a well fitted t-shirt and some chinos. One of the things he had done after his break up was go shopping. He felt freedom to dress the way he wanted and not worry about what Sebastian thought about his style. He even started painting his nails occasionally, something he had been fascinated with since he was a child.
Tonight he was on a mission, to hopefully find the musical talent he was looking for. He fluffed his hair that he had tamed with only a bit of mousse and left mostly curly. It was something else he was trying out instead of pasting it to his head. He weaved through the crowds towards the bar and ordered a bottle of water to sip while he watched the performances. While he waited, he turned around and observed the industrial warehouse architecture of the bar appreciatively. That's when he noticed all the shirts. They were everywhere; black shirts with two white L's or 'The Lima Losers' scrawled across the fronts. Some had little rainbows on them. There were some others that looked homemade. Wasn't that the band that barista Puck had told him was the name of his band? Interesting.
With sweating water in hand, Blaine made his way to a small table and got comfortable as the first band played. Blaine dutifully paid attention, but couldn't deny he was eager to see the band that had caused all these fans to come out.
He was taking a sip of his rapidly warming water when the lights dimmed and another band began setting up. They were third to go, probably the last band to play or next to last. He spotted Puck and waved back when he lit up at the sight of Blaine. He saw the man eagerly whispering to a woman on the stage with him with blue streaks in her dark hair who found him sitting in the audience and almost vibrated in excitement. Another man wearing makeup with tattoos covering his arms joined Puck and the woman and overheard what they were saying as he tuned his guitar. Another woman with teal colored hair sat at the drum set and started making her adjustments. They were chatting with each other, all smiles and leather clothes as the crowd began to become more and more impatient. The excitement in the air was palpable as the band got ready and Blaine wriggled in his seat as he even started to feel the anticipation.
The last band member made his way to the stage and Blaine had to take a big gulp of his water at the sight of him. He was wearing expensive looking combat boots, dark tight jeans that were ripped artfully, a t-shirt underneath a leather jacket that had all sorts of complicated buttons, straps and zippers, and fingerless gloves. From his spot close to the stage, Blaine could see he had several piercings and bright blue eyes that flicked over the buzzing crowd as he adjusted his microphone stand. They landed on Blaine for the briefest of moments and he felt like he had been electrocuted. The man's lips twitched and he tossed his pink streaked hair out of his eyes and looked away.
As the band picked up their instruments, Blaine couldn't tear his eyes away from the lead singer. Then suddenly the music started in fast and intense and Blaine was in awe.
You make me vicious
Watch as I make the pain my mistress
You can call me Miss Malicious
I'll dress you up in stitches
No, I can not resist this
If it don't hurt I get suspicious
I like to take the knife and twist it
Yeah my love is sacrilegious
I'm not scared to admit it
This violence is delicious
What doesn't kill me
Makes me vicious
I'm not gonna break
I can take all that you can give
This is survival of the sickest
I am not afraid, bring the pain
Watch out, 'cause I'm vicious
People were screaming in excitement through the whole thing. The man's vocals were perfect, high and clear with a little rasp that was perfect for the song. Puck and the other man played their guitars effortlessly, like they had been born with them in their hands. The drummer had great energy, smiling as she killed it. The other woman played a keyboard skillfully and they all blended seamlessly with one another. They had their act together, all singing backup. It was perfect. Blaine's eyes were glued to them, especially the lead singer as they worked the crowd up into a frenzy. The song ended to wild applause and more screams from those in attendance. The lights focused on the frontman as the rest of the band prepared for the next song.
"Hello, sluts," he smirked into the mic. His voice was higher than Blaine thought it would be, but it suited him. "That song I wrote because I was bullied before I became a badass and so instead of ignoring assholes, I became one. Anyway, I'm Kurt and we are The Lima Losers. Scream if you want us."
The crowd laughed and screamed in glee at this. The second song started and it quickly became apparent who would be winning the Battle of the Bands that evening. Blaine noted how many women and men alike were obviously infatuated with Kurt and the band, several claimed they would have his babies. He grinned at them and worked the stage.
I need noise
I need the buzz of a sub
Need the crack of a whip
Need some blood in the cut
I need blood in the cut
I need blood in the cut
A server squeezed by with a tray of empty glasses.
"Excuse me! Hey, could you tell me about this band?" Blaine asked, having to shout over the music. The server nodded.
"Oh yeah. The Lima Losers? We love when they come to these because they bring in such a big crowd. They are pretty amazing."
Blaine thanked the server and got more and more excited as the second song wrapped up and they began their third and final song. The tempo slowed and the lead singer showed a different side of himself, exposed and vulnerable rather than cocky and confident like he had been during the other two songs. He owned the stage as soon as he walked onto it and Blaine knew he had found what he was looking for. They had enough of a fan base to boost their first sales and the experience to know how to handle a crowd. They riled the fans up enough to put on a great show, but reeled them back in before it got too crazy. And the lead singer Kurt! He was magical. His stage presence and range were amazing, transfixing Blaine right along with the crowd.
Just tonight
I won't leave
And I'll lie and you'll believe
Just tonight
I will see that it's all because of me
During the last song, Kurt seemed to look straight at him in the crowd, sweat dripping down his face and eyes bright. He was in his element, doing what he was born to do. He winked at Blaine and then looked away to give more of the crowd his attention. Blaine finally breathed again once those eyes were off of him, like they had a physical hold on him. He gulped down the rest of his water.
To no one's surprise, The Lima Losers were named the winner and Blaine wasted no time finding a worker and flashing his ID to get backstage. He was just asking a worker with a headset where he might find the band when the barista, Puck, caught sight of him and waved him over eagerly.
"Guys! This is the dude I was telling you about! This is—" He stopped shaking Blaine's shoulders and turned to the shorter man. "Fuck. What was your name?"
"Blaine. Blaine Anderson representing Montgomery Records." He handed a card to Puck who snatched it like it was made of gold. The others stopped packing their instruments up and curiously gathered around.
One of the women from the band that had played the keyboard with the blue streaks in her hair stepped forward eagerly to shake his hand. "I'm Tina Cohen-Chang! So nice to meet you! We are so happy you came to see us! So, Puckerman you know and this is Elliott Gilbert." She gestured to the guy who had played guitar and had all the tattoos. He shook Blaine's hand a little longer than was necessary and let his eyes rake down Blaine's body.
"Very nice to meet you." He winked at Blaine who pretended not to notice.
"Then Dani Williams is our drummer and sings too," Tina finished as Blaine shook the beaming woman's hand.
"Wasn't there another one? Uh, Kurt right?"
The four shared a look that Blaine didn't know what to make of.
Tina smiled brightly. "Yeah, he's busy at the moment. But we will tell him anything you say!"
Blaine nodded, trying not to show his disappointment at missing the dazzling lead singer.
"I have to tell you all, I've been looking for a band to sign for a while now and I really think you are the answer. I would love to talk with whoever your manager is about contracts as long as you aren't represented by anyone else."
A door to the backstage bathroom swung open and Blaine found himself standing face to face with the pink-haired man himself. Kurt stumbled out of the small bathroom followed by another man wearing a Lima Losers shirt and a satisfied grin. He pushed forward past his band mates and eyed Blaine from his shiny shoes up to his now frizzy curls that he refused to touch self-consciously. Kurt was taller than him, but not by much.
He shooed away the groupie and zipped up his pants, leaving no one guessing at what he had been doing in that bathroom.
"What's all this about?" Kurt's eyes landed on each of his band mates who were gnawing lips or staring at their shoes. His gaze finally settled on Puck who growled and put his hands on his hips.
"Come on, Kurt! We are tired of playing all these tiny gigs and Battle of the Bands! We are better than that! It's too easy crushing all these other wannabes. Anyone else can chime in here!"
The other members of the band smiled sheepishly and muttered their agreement with what Puck had said. Tina stepped forward.
"This is our chance! We could take this to the next level! I'm tired of having to wait tables to make ends meet and trying to convince my parents I'm not wasting my time! Please just hear the guy out, Kurt."
The others agreed and Kurt turned his sharp eyes back on Blaine who had definitely not been imagining what things Kurt had gotten up to in that bathroom with that guy. He sucked in a deep breath before putting on his most charming smile and sticking out a hand towards Kurt.
"Blaine Anderson. As I was telling your band mates, I would love to speak to you and your manager about signing a contract. We would love to have you at Montgomery Records."
Kurt took his hand and shook it, a slow smile spreading across his face. When he stepped closer to Blaine, he was overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol. He was even more intimidating up close.
"Well, well. Aren't you just adorable? No manager, sweetheart, but if you want to come back to my place with me, we can talk all you want. Or we can find better things to do with your mouth."
Blaine's jaw dropped open at his brazen words and Elliott pulled Kurt back away from Blaine, hissing what sounded like a warning in his ear.
"Sorry about him," Tina said to a flabbergasted Blaine. "He's definitely had too much to drink tonight and he's not entirely himself." Her smile dropped a little. "Please don't take it personal. We really do appreciate you giving us a chance."
"Of course," Blaine replied as Kurt shoved Elliott off of him and brushed off his jacket, only wobbling a little. He honed back in on Blaine who had the strong urge to giggle madly and run away at the same time.
"It's been brought to my attention that I'm making an ass of myself and I owe you an apology. Please forgive me, Mr. Anderson."
Blaine thought how strange it was that Kurt somehow made his apology sound sincere and a joke at the same time. He gave the man a strained smile and produced another card identical to the one Puck had taken.
"No worries, Mr…?"
"Hummel." He smiled.
"Mr. Hummel." Blaine felt absolutely ridiculous for blushing like a schoolboy at this man. So maybe he had a little thing for his type (Adam Levine had been the star of many a high school fantasy,) but he was an adult now and a professional, so he mentally slapped himself and got a grip. "Look, it's probably not a good idea to discuss business when you all are so tired from playing and… probably not in the best state of mind."
"You mean drunk," Kurt slurred while he stared at Blaine's lips.
Blaine ignored that and held the card out to Kurt between two fingers. "Can we meet for lunch tomorrow and discuss a contract?"
"I'm busy tomorrow," Kurt replied and started to look bored.
"Sunday then? I won't take no for answer, Mr. Hummel."
Kurt scratched his chin for a moment and wrapped his hand around Blaine's. His hands were warm and soft except for guitar callouses residing on his fingertips. He let his middle finger stroke Blaine's as he slowly took the card and slipped it into his pocket. Blaine worked on breathing in and out and not shivering at the touch.
"Fine. Sunday. I'll let you know where." He winked at the shorter man and leaned in close. Blaine tried to not immediately jerk away. This man was slightly terrifying. "And if lunch goes well, you can be my dessert."
"Okaaay," Elliott chimed in as he dragged a smirking Kurt away. "He will see you Sunday. We will make sure of it. Thank you again, Mr. Anderson."
"Blaine," he replied as the others began gathering their things and whispering enthusiastically. Puck had taken over frog-marching Kurt away and Blaine was both relieved and disappointed their time was over.
"Blaine." Elliott smiled as he gave him a little wave and checked him out one last time. "Thank you!"
"No, thank you!" Blaine called after them before taking his leave.
As he breathed in the night air and hailed a cab, Blaine allowed himself his own little giddy smile. This was it. What he had been waiting for. He would make them his best success yet.
That is, if he could control their scary lead singer.
*songs used:
-Vicious by Halestorm
-Blood in the Cut by K.Flay
-Just Tonight by The Pretty Reckless
we do not own any songs used*