Somebody Loves You
NOTES:
Language notes (some Spanish in this chapter):
Vaya con Dios = Go with God
barrio = neighborhood
cabrones = bastards/dicks
Hasta luego = See you later
Warnings: Very hateful words and cussing.
Wednesday:
Kurt and Blaine immediately absorbed the mood of the movement studies class as they walked into the studio. Monday had presented them with lively and,at times, tense conversation of a debate. Today, the impression they were getting was blase and detached. Not even the indifferent attitude of a normal, mundane Wednesday could compare to what Blaine and Kurt were feeling. Something was just off.
After leaving their bags by the door, as per usual, they immediately scanned their environment for familiar faces. Garret was one of their closest friends and he was always the first person they greeted. After Kurt surveyed the people present, he realized Garret was not among them. He turned toward Blaine with a concerned expression,
"Do you see…"
"Garret? No, I don't," Blaine finished Kurt's sentence. They smirked at each other, trying to lift the momentary anxiety,
"We are married before we're married, my dear," Kurt joked.
Being absent from class was not that big a deal, but something stirred in the pit of Kurt's stomach. Garret was usually present. Only one other time had he not shown up, and that was for a family member's funeral. He had been gone on a Thursday, but returned promptly the following Monday, instead of taking the allowed week-long bereavement. Kurt bit his bottom lip and crossed his arms in front of him. Blaine noticed,
"You okay?"
Kurt's head jerked in Blaine's direction, as if he had been caught doing something he didn't want him to see. He shrugged his shoulders,
"I don't know. I am just worried." he responded. Blaine raised his eyebrow,
"Why? He could just be late."
Kurt nodded and leaned in closer to the dark haired man. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer to whisper in his ear,
"Yeah, but I know he is gay and I am worried about him considering the circumstances. He is rarely ever gone and he has never been late."
Blaine snickered and Kurt backed off with wide eyes. His face depicted that he was offended and he shrugged at his boyfriend inquisitively. Blaine patted him on the shoulder and squeezed,
"I hear you, but I think you are over-analyzing the situation. Let's just get started like normal. Who knows, maybe he will show up?"
Professor Daniels started barking out orders to the class, but Kurt and Blaine were oblivious. They were locked in a staring contest, like they often were when one wanted to prove to the other that he was right. Blaine tried to lighten the mood by crossing his eyes and successfully got a giggle out of Kurt. They hadn't noticed that the entire class was in formation without them,
"Hey, when you two are done eye-fucking each other would you care to join us?" one of their classmates shouted. Kurt and Blaine didn't flinch at the comment. They were used to much worse being screamed at them. As they approached the group, Blaine retorted with,
"We are never done eye-fucking. I'm honestly offended that you interrupted."
The potential argument was cut short by Professor Daniels,
"Okay, now that I have that disgusting image in my head, let's get started shall we?"
As the warm up began, Kurt and Blaine exchanged a friendly wink.
Kurt was flustered. That was the best way to describe his current mental state. Just plain flustered. Class had begun and ended without a hitch to the lesson, but Garret had not shown up. Now Kurt's anxiety was torturing him. As he walked back from NYADA toward his place of employment his mind continued to analyze the possible excuses for his friend's absence.
"Is he sick? Did someone else in his family get really sick or die? Why didn't he text me? Usually he does when this happens…"
When Kurt walked into the break room, he pulled out his phone and quickly composed a message to his friend,
Checking in. Blaine and I did not see you in class today. Just making sure you're okay. *heart*
A quick glance at the time on his phone's screen indicated that he had exactly five minutes to change his shirt and get out to start serving tables. He slipped on his sorry excuse for a button down shirt, that would certainly make the fashionistas faint, and looked at himself in the mirror. Within seconds he had his black apron tied around his waist. Class had asked a lot of him physically and, as he ran his hand through his hair, he could still feel the residue of sweat. After making a sneer at his own hand and then rubbing it on his pants, he took one last glance at the horrid black and red vertical stripes of his uniform and gave himself a half-hearted shrug.
Kurt had been working at Starlight Diner for over five months. He had the routine down and he knew the menu like the back of his hand, mostly because they never changed anything. People came more for the atmosphere than they did for the food. What Kurt enjoyed about the place was its soundtrack. Each night they had a musical theme, which was a relief to Kurt. knowing his ears wouldn't be plagued by that horrendous "muzak." After hearing the same song twenty times in a shift, he would have lost his mind. One unique characteristic was the fact that most of the wait staff was studying performing arts in some way. This being true, the manager would occasionally give each of them a chance to shine by allowing them to perform for their guests.
Kurt was proud to remind Blaine of his popularity with the patrons. Many times he caught them off guard when he began to sing. Oftentimes, and he was well aware of this, the crowd assumed they would be hearing a very different voice coming out of him. When his lovely falsetto exited his lips, many of them were caught in awe. Not many men could sing the likes of Mariah Carey, Jennifer Lopez and Barbara Streisand without looking like they were straining or being satirical. Kurt, on the other hand, owned it. He knew that tonight he would solely be waiting tables with no entertainment involved. It bummed him a bit, but he knew it was at least a paycheck.
Without looking, he walked past the name tag slots near the kitchen door, grabbed his placard, and attached it to his shirt. He then walked out onto the battlefield of waiting patrons, making sure to stop at the hostess stand. His coworker, Sabrina, swished her long ponytail off of her shoulder and regarded Kurt with a smile. Her brown eyes sparkled behind her thin framed glasses as she pointed to the seating chart on the hostess stand.
"Looks like you have section one, my friend." she said, her voice laced with sympathy. Kurt lovingly rested his chin on her shoulder, making her giggle. He examined the seating chart carefully and then scrunched up his nose in protest,
"Aww, do I have to?" he mused. Sabrina snickered and, placing a peck on Kurt's cheek responded,
"You're the best man for the job. Wear the badge well."
Section one was infamous. It consisted of the ten seats that lined the bar at the front of the restaurant. Often it was peppered with Bushwick's finest clientele, consisting of the middle aged cheaters meeting a mistress ten years their junior, or the drunk CEO complaining about how hard his life was. Most of the patrons that graced the benches with their presence behaved in a horrifically childish and entitled manner. While there was a repeat of the type, thankfully, they didn't have any regulars at the bench. Most likely the affairs were forgettable or the CEO could find another waiter to feel more sympathy for his plight and therefore wouldn't return. Kurt and his coworkers were not saddened by this reality.
He glanced behind him, taking in a quick snapshot of the clients waiting at the bar. As it was close to 5 P.M., he knew the dinner rush would soon fill the diner. Surprisingly, he saw only one person waiting patiently at a stool near the right side of the bar. From behind he looked well kept with a neatly brushed frock and carefully pressed garments. He turned back to Sabrina,
"How long has he been there?" he inquired. She too scanned the scene at the front and then, turning back to Kurt, shrugged her shoulders.
"I started at 5 too. I didn't seat him. So, longer than 5 minutes, I guess."
Kurt reached into the plastic bin sitting on the inside shelf of the hostess stand and collected his guest check booklet and a pen. While the entire staff had to adorn themselves in the hideousness that was the red and black shirt, they were all free to decorate the black check holder that they carried in the pocket of their aprons. Kurt was happy to show off his crafting skills with the lovely decorations of sequins he had carefully glued to the front and back of his check holder. Many of his coworkers, including Sabrina, had given him shit for it. He just retorted with,
"You are just intimidated by my remarkable artistic skill." Most of them responded with an expected roll of their eyes.
After placing his mini folder in his apron, he leaned over and returned the kiss Sabrina had given him on her left cheek,
"Here goes nothing, gorgeous."
"Vaya con Dios, amigo," she joked in response.
The menu of the mysterious customer sat closed under his folded hands. This told Kurt there were two possibilities. Either he had chosen what he wanted quickly and was now waiting, or he was hoping for recommendations. As Kurt rounded the counter, entering through the small door on the right, he took in the characteristics of this new client. He sat with good posture, his back straight and shoulders back. This was unusual for those who sat at the bar. Usually their posture reflected the turmoil they had experienced during their days at work. This man appeared to be the antithesis as a relaxed and content individual. His chestnut hair was gelled and styled into a makeshift collection of waves at the top while the sides of his head were shaved slightly shorter. His shoulders were adorned with a loosely fitted blazer that hung to his waist and adorned the dark green t-shirt underneath. Overall, he looked very carefully put together and like an individual who took great pride in perfecting his appearance.
As Kurt approached, the man regarded him with a very welcoming smile. It wasn't overwhelmingly open, he just came across as very nonthreatening. His striking blue eyes smiled from behind the glasses as he nodded,
"Hello, my friend. Will you be helping me this evening?" he inquired. Kurt was almost taken aback by his friendly tone. This rarely happened. Usually he had to be on his guard, ready to turn on his fake customer service face. He smiled back,
"Why, yes, sir. I will be taking care of you. What can I get for you to drink?"
The new customer shifted in his chair and adjusted his coat over his thin frame. He picked up the menu and handed it to Kurt gently. His long, thin face perfectly framed his friendly smile,
"Could I request a caesar salad and an iced tea, please?" there was no tone of sarcasm or tension in his voice, which Kurt was accustomed to. Taking the order in the form of a scribble on his customer check booklet, Kurt felt the tautness of his shoulders release. He had a feeling this was going to be one of his more enjoyable shifts. Already, this man had shown him more respect in under a minute than he usually received in a week. Kurt received the menu with a thank you and deposited it on the shelf opposite the bar.
"Coming right up," Kurt returned the friendly smile to his patron and disappeared into the kitchen to drop off the ticket. Before returning to the counter, he exchanged glances with another of his coworkers with a facial expression that could only be described as childish glee. The chef looked at him in confusion and shrugged,
"What's with you?" he asked.
"The customer at the counter is so nice! Finally a break!" Kurt responded with enthusiasm showing in his eyes.
"Lucky bitch." the chef responded with a jealous scoff.
Kurt returned to his station behind the counter and, retrieving a clean glass from the stash on the counter, began to fill it from the ice tea spout. He turned to face the customer,
"Would you like a lemon with that?"
The customer looked at him quizzically.
"A lemon? In iced tea?" he asked. Kurt's heart jumped. Oh no, he had said the wrong thing and now the guy was going to do a 180 on him. Kurt smiled and turned on his best customer service voice,
"Only if you're interested. I will gladly leave it out if you prefer not to have it."
The gentleman shook his head and held his hands out in front of him. His face changed from confused to sheepish,
"I'm sorry, my friend. I am not from around here and this is my first time having iced tea and being offered a lemon. I am afraid I have never tried it. Do you recommend it?"
Kurt's eyes widened in surprise,
"I get to serve you your first iced tea?"
The man chuckled, "You indeed have the honor." he responded. Kurt carried the glass over to the counter and carefully sat it down in front of the man. He deposited a straw from his apron next to the glass that was now adorned with a lemon wedge hanging over the lip. Kurt held his hands out, pointing out the masterpiece before him,
"In my opinion, this is the best way to experience what is known as iced tea," he opined. The man nodded and, taking the glass in his right hand, lifted it to his lips and took a sip. His eyes closed as he regarded the taste on his tongue for a second. Shortly after, he set the glass down and looked Kurt dead in the eyes, his expression stern. Kurt was frightened for a moment, his eyes widening in horror,
"I should take your advice for every order, my friend." the man smiled and chuckled at Kurt's response.
"I take it that means you will be returning for a second go?" Kurt inquired. The man shrugged,
"I don't know, honestly. I am just trying to get settled," he explained. Kurt tilted his head and raised his eyebrow,
"Settled? You just arrive?"
With a nod, the man continued his story,
"Yeah, just came in yesterday. I'm trying to get my foot in with advertising. Not sure where. I love being creative so I'll take anything at this point."
It was then that Kurt began to notice the very subtle accent in the man's voice. He couldn't place it, however. The fact that the man had never had iced tea did support his story of coming from outside the country. Iced tea was more of an American thing.
"Where are you coming in from, if I may ask?" Kurt's voice was dripping with eager curiosity.
After taking another long sip of his tea, he smiled and nodded,
"Yes, of course. Germany."
"Oh, my! Well, welcome to New York. I'm Kurt." he held his hand out for the man who took it without hesitation in a firm grip. The man looked him in the eyes,
"Elias Weber. It is a pleasure, my friend."
The pleasantries were interrupted by the more habitual behavior of the Starlight Diner's clientele. A belligerent customer seated at the other end of the bar slammed his hand angrily and shouted,
"Hey, dude, can I get some damn service over here? Time is money, dumbass!"
Kurt didn't move at first. He had let go of Elias' hand and took a step back from the bar. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath prepared him for what was about to come with this jerk. Elias gave him a look of sympathy as Kurt grabbed a menu, pulled out his customer check pad and headed to the other end of the bar.
The man's thick eyebrows were furrowed with dissatisfaction as he shooed at Kurt with his beefy hand,
"I don't need a damn menu, idiot. Just get me the house club sandwich with fries and a diet coke. And make it snappy."
Forcing his fake smile, Kurt quickly scribbled the order down and disappeared into the kitchen. The chef looked at him, dumbfounded by his sudden change in demeanor as Kurt clipped the new ticket to the line. Still holding onto the spatula he was using to flip the burgers, he raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders,
"What the hell happened? Did he have a change of heart?"
Kurt did not even have the mental capacity to come up with a sarcastic remark and just looked daggers at him. He shook his head and balled is hands into fists around his collar,
"Different guy. Just took a giant shit on the experience I was having with Prince Charming. God I hate self-entitled people."
The chef saluted him with the spatula, "That's why I stay back here, mate."
He quickly shook out his anger, did a little running in place and then walked back out to deal with the mayhem of one. All he could think about was getting the chore of serving this awful man over with. He didn't want to make eye contact and he just proceeded to fill a glass with diet coke from the drink station. The muscles in his shoulders and back tensed, indicating his anticipation of more belligerent commentary from the end of the bar. The liquid filling the glass almost felt like a timer counting down to the impending explosion. However, it never came.
When Kurt turned to face his proverbial adversary, he noticed a change in scenery. Not only was this man sitting quietly at the end of the bar, but he was waiting patiently and smiling at Kurt. What alternate dimension had he walked into? Approaching the counter apprehensively, he set the glass down in front of the man who responded to him with a smile and said,
"Thank you."
Kurt almost turned to cement with that comment. What in the hell happened between their first encounter and his trip into the kitchen? He had changed from a fascist dictator to a sweet old granny in no time flat. Kurt just feigned gratitude with a half-hearted smile and slowly backed away. He received no more comments from the customer from hell.
"Are you alright, my friend?" Elias's voice was laced with concern as Kurt made his way toward him. Kurt decided it was best to just let go of what had just transpired and return to the pleasant experience that was getting to know his new patron.
"Nope, I was just a bit distracted, that's all," he responded.
"Glad to hear it, my friend. It's going to be a good night, wouldn't you say, sir?" Elias raised his glass of iced tea toward the disgruntled man in the corner, giving him a fake toast. The man seemed to flinch in his seat as he too raised his glass toward Elias and gave him a nervous smile. Elias's eyes drilled into him, as if to be forcing the emotion on him. He appeared to be consuming the drink more out of necessity than pleasure and his actions were very forced. Kurt was somewhat flabbergasted by the display and began to create possible explanations for the behavior. Ultimately, the thoughts became too disturbing and he shook himself back to reality. The most important thing he realized was that he had established Elias as an ally.
In a blink, three new customers appeared at the counter, eagerly waiting to be fed. Kurt took this as his signal to get back to the reality that was waiting tables and turned to his new friend.
"Well, Elias, it has been a pleasure, but I must default to my primary purpose and help these new customers." He gave Elias a friendly bow and firmly shook his hand. The kindness was returned tenfold and Kurt could feel it in the man's return of affection. Elias regarded him with a nod and smile as he said,
"I agree, Kurt. I hope we can continue our conversation, but I understand you have a section to run. Have a great rest of your night if we do not."
The emotions that had plagued Kurt's mind had completely melted away at this point. The exchange with Elias had turned his mood around completely and he knew that he would go home smiling. It had affected him so positively that he had completely forgotten about his worry for his missing friend, Garret. Soon, the details of his friend's absence would come to light.
Thursday:
A new headline flashed on the screen of Blaine's phone as he made his way to his playwrights class with Professor Hale. The morning had been a bit stressful, which was manifested in the nervous energy of his boyfriend. Kurt relayed the fact that Garret had not returned any of his text messages and his anxiety followed every move he made. His normally steady hands were shaky and clumsy and his speech was fast and awkward. Blaine recalled having to aid his boyfriend in a grounding exercise in order to lower his heart rate. By the time the two of them separated after the class immediately prior, Kurt had regained his composure and decided to hang out at the Everyday Cafe. Blaine wondered if the current headline would only turn his stomach and reignite the anxiety.
COUPLE HOSPITALIZED. NEWEST VICTIMS OF STRING OF HATE CRIMES
He had hoped that, by this time, the authorities would have caught these monsters. The fact that they remained at large only told him that they were smart and experts at avoiding detection. His eyes scanned the article as he found a seat near the back of the small classroom. When he stopped on a pair of words, he was happy he had arrived at class early, for his reaction was more dramatic than he expected. When he saw the name Garret Murphy, he dropped his book and covered his mouth, trying to stifle his gasp. The two classmates who accompanied him in the classroom looked on with concern,
"Are you okay, man?" one of them asked.
Blaine lowered himself into one of the desks before he responded. All he could muster was a glance in his classmate's direction and a shake of his head.
"There was another hate crime in the Ridgewood and Bushwick area. It's the damn die Stärke gang again."
The two classmates approached him with interest, and one of them placed a reassuring hand on Blaine's shoulder. The other rubbernecked, trying to get a look at the text displayed on Blaine's phone.
"Oh, shit, Garret? Garret was the latest victim? That's why he wasn't in class this week." the man standing over Blaine's left shoulder responded to what he had just read. While neither of them were particularly close to one another, they did recognize each other from other classes. All three of them shared the same movements class and apparently regarded Garret with the same amount of respect and admiration.
"I have to send this to Kurt," Blaine audibly demonstrated his worry as his comment came out close to a whimper. The man on his left squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to stifle his fear.
"I know it's scary, man, but he's being taken care of. Doesn't it say he was taken to the hospital and he's in stable condition?" the man inquired.
Blaine immediately copied the link and sent it in a text message to Kurt. While he knew this would only cause his anxiety to bubble to the surface, he thought Kurt had a right to know about their friend. He had to stifle tears while he placed his phone on the desk and looked up at his classmate.
"I know. You're right, he is doing alright. But it also said that his boyfriend was in critical condition. I just...I can't…" Blaine looked down at his hands, started rubbing them together nervously. His classmate patiently waited for him to finish his comment, "I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to Kurt. It would hurt me more than anything those Nazi bastards could do to me. It would destroy me to see his life in danger."
The two men had little to say in response. Blaine had presented a perspective neither of them had considered. What would they have done, had they witnessed a loved one coming close to death? The thought made them both shiver.
The buzz of Blaine's phone caused his hand to snatch it at lightning speed.
We need to talk tonight. No questions asked.
Despite the seriousness of the current situation, Kurt's response made Blaine chuckle through his tears. His boyfriend was the only person he knew who could make a text come to life. Blaine could almost hear Kurt's voice in his ear, stern and unwavering. Blaine was certain that this would be one of the longest classes of his life. Every moment, his mind would be consumed with worry. All he could think about was holding his lover in his arms and how long he would have to wait to do so.
Blaine knew now that the concern he had voiced the first day the story had aired was now all too real. And now, he finally had Kurt on his side.
No words could describe the mayhem going on in Kurt's mind as he walked into work. The flustered feeling that had taken over him on Monday paled in comparison to his current mental state. He had already been thinking about Garret's failure to text him back the night before which frayed his nerves. While he was trying to calm himself and savor a hot cup of coffee, he had received the text link from Blaine. His worst fears had been confirmed. Something terrible had happened and that was why Garret had been absent. He just wanted to grab Blaine by the shoulders, shake him and scream, "I told you so!"
If the universe, or god, whatever it was called, allowed any kind of mercy, he hoped it would dish out a healthy portion to him tonight. If his shift was stressful in any capacity, Kurt was sure that he would lose it.
His distraction was evident in his mannerisms. Not only did he neglect checking himself in the mirror and straightening his hair, his buttons were unevenly done and his shirt was untucked when he walked onto the floor. Sabrina was at her usual position behind the hostess stand greeting the patrons as they arrived. She was caught off guard when Kurt barreled past her to grab his customer ticket folder without so much as a hello.
"Nice to see you too, Kurt," she said sarcastically. Kurt was in no way in the mood for attitude and he just ignored her while glancing at the seating chart. His first sigh of relief came after examining his assigned section and realizing he didn't have to be behind the bar again. Just the simple fact that he was working on the normal floor lifted a lot of his anxiety from his shoulders. He turned to Sabrina sheepishly,
"I'm sorry. Just a bad day."
Sabrina looked back at him empathetically and patted him on the back. He leaned over and gave her a light kiss on the cheek and then proceeded to his first set of customers. Kurt's section was on the right side of the restaurant and consisted of about seven booths lining the wall. A family of four sat in the corner booth and patiently waited for Kurt to arrive. He found them to be neither pleasant nor rude, and Kurt was fine with it. Anything that allowed him to continue mindlessly was good enough for him.
After taking the family's ticket into the kitchen, he walked back out onto the floor and headed for his next patron. This man, who had his back to Kurt, looked out of place in this section. His fitted grey jacket and slicked back hair suggested higher class. This meant he should have been at the bar, with the rest of the self-entitled CEOs. Kurt mentally prepared himself for verbal abuse as he approached the booth with his pen and pad ready.
"My friend!" the familiar voice resounded in his ears and he felt like he might cry tears of happiness. Elias smiled at him, holding his arms open as if he was about to jump up and hug him. All of the tension in Kurt's muscles melted away as his shoulders slumped and his jaw dropped,
"Oh my God, Elias! You have no idea how glad I am to see you!"
Elias tilted his head to the side, displaying his confusion,
"Are you having a bad day, friend?" he inquired. Kurt laughed,
"Are you psychic?"
Elias feigned a shiver and slapped his hand on the table,
"That would be a scary thing if I were, my dear Kurt," he responded. They shared a laugh, Kurt's more out of relief than anything. Before taking his order, he placed his hands on his hips in fake protest,
"So, tell me. Did you get the advertising job? You told me you were looking the last time I saw you."
Elias's face beamed as he placed his hands on his chest and nodded at Kurt,
"You have a good memory, friend. I am flattered that you ask."
"You're welcome. Now spill the beans, mister." Kurt held up his customer ticket booklet and pretended to be writing. He didn't want his boss to realize that he was neglecting his other tables in order to spend more time talking to this man. Now it was up to him to keep up the façade as long as possible.
"I have had three interviews since Monday. Honestly, I am not sure how I feel about them, but here's to hoping." he held up two hands, each with crossed fingers.
"I love your accent. You said you were from Germany, right?" Elias's eyes got wide and Kurt panicked momentarily, thinking he may have offended him.
"Wow, I am amazed that you can even tell, my friend. I have been trying hard to hide it."
Now it was Kurt's turn to look confused. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders,
"Why would you want to hide it?"
Elias got quiet for a moment and looked down at his hands hesitantly. Again, Kurt was afraid he had overstepped. After a few seconds, Elias looked up at him again,
"I think people are quick to pass judgement here. The more I can look or sound like everyone the better my chances of finding a job. You wouldn't imagine the things said to me when I got off the plane and started exploring the city. Some people sneered, others told me to go back where I came from. Sorry to sound sentimental, Kurt. People can just be so heartless."
Kurt looked every which way, making sure his boss wasn't on the floor. Scanning the other booths revealed that there were no other customers waiting, other than his family of four. They appeared to be plenty occupied with keeping the kids entertained with iPad games, so Kurt saw this as his chance. He slipped into the booth across from Elias, catching him by surprise at first.
"The 'being judged for who you are' thing…? I have experienced that plenty in my life, but for different reasons. I feel your pain."
"What could you have possibly been judged for?" Elias inquired and his eyes sent messages of empathy.
Kurt shifted in his seat for a moment, unsure of how open he was comfortable being. In the back of his mind, the recent headlines flashed and warned him to be more reserved about talking about his personal life. He had just met Elias two days ago. He also knew that this could be a moment to do the right thing and stand up against the bullies. He could be the shining light for the person who needed a bit of strength.
"Well, when one is attracted to people of the same sex, those who aren't sometimes get scared and don't know how to take it."
Elias sat in silence for a moment. His face showed no judgement, but it showed no sympathy either. Kurt remained a statue as he waited for his newest friend to respond. The hustle and bustle of the restaurant faded away and he had tunnel vision on Elias. He felt like he was coming out at McKinley all over again.
"Thank you for sharing that, my friend."
Kurt realized how long he had been holding his breath when he let out a heavy sigh. Elias smirked, reached across the table and patted him on the shoulder.
"Who is the lucky man?"
Kurt's heart went aflutter at the chance of talking about his boyfriend. Any time he got to tell someone about his soulmate, it made him the happiest. His shoulders came up to his neck like he was hugging a teddy bear,
"His name is Blaine. My dark-haired, honey-eyed, sweetheart of a man," Kurt couldn't believe how comfortable he was in front of this man as he shook himself back to reality and his eyes got wide, "wow, Elias. I have to tell you, you certainly have a way of making people open up." When he looked back at his new friend, he had crossed his arms in front of him, his face beaming. He chuckled and shrugged,
"What can I say? Getting people to talk is one of my talents," with that he gave Kurt another friendly pat on the shoulder and added, "I hope I get to meet this man of yours one day."
Kurt nodded, "That you will."
An angry voice bellowed from behind the bar, making Kurt jump in his seat.
"HUMMEL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU HAVE CUSTOMERS WAITING SO GET OFF YOUR REAR!"
Elias and Kurt giggled like elementary kids getting caught talking during class. Kurt stood from the booth with his customer ticket booklet and was about to write down Elias's order when he realized he never actually took it. Elias was already a step ahead of him when he said,
"Same as last time, my friend. Salad and tea with lemon. Thanks for the recommendation, by the way."
Kurt smiled and pointed at Elias with his pen, "I knew it. You are psychic."
Before he could make the situation worse for himself, Kurt gave Elias one last wave and disappeared into the kitchen.
The dark September evening enveloped Kurt as he exited the Sunlight Diner at exactly eight fifteen. While his ultimate destination was the Bushwick apartment, he had an important stop on the way. After seeing the headline earlier in the day, there was an urgency to increase his and Blaine's personal security. There was one store he knew of on the way home that sold implements for self protection and he made his way there post haste. His mind wandered to the three hour shift that had helped distract him from his current mental hell.
The conversation with his newest friend was exactly what he tension surrounding his last thirty six hours melted away for the entirety of his shift. It surprised him how a complete stranger had been successful in making him open up. Perhaps it was the fact that he was so accustomed to the corrosive comments of the regulars that he had been so taken with Elias. He was the stark contrast that the diner needed. Everything he said came from a place of sincerity and kindness, which was a rarity in this city. He hoped that Elias would frequent the diner and that he would be able to introduce him to Blaine.
About five blocks from the apartment, Kurt stopped in front of the small sports shop. He hoped that he could find what he was looking for here and that Blaine wouldn't give him shit for doing what he was about to do.
Something caught his attention before he reached for the door. His eyes glanced at the brick wall to the right of the entrance. A lump in his throat stifled the whimper that tried to escape. Spray paint stained the beige surface of the stone wall, but it wasn't the type of artwork that was deserving of praise.
The image of the punching fist surrounded by chains adorned the outside of the sports shop. Kurt felt his heart nearly jump out of his chest. While he and Blaine knew that this Neo-Nazi gang was creeping ever closer to them, they never thought it would actually make it to their backyard. Seeing the image on the wall just gave Kurt the extra enticement he needed to walk into that store as he disappeared through the door.
Blaine didn't know what hit him. One moment, he was standing at the stove, about to pour himself some tea, and the next moment he was being spun around by rough hands at nauseating speed. Kurt's lean arms wrapped tightly around his neck and pulled him close to his body. The sound of weeping met his ears before he had a chance to return the affection.
"Umm...Kurt?" Blaine's voice was muffled against his boyfriend's shoulder. Kurt seemed to have turned to stone and remained silent. The two of them were now engulfed in the awkward silence of the apartment. It remained as such until Blaine started to struggle getting any air on the account of Kurt's vice grip around him. He tapped his boyfriend's arm as the dark spots of suffocation appeared in the corners of his vision, "…Kurt...I can't... breathe…"
As quickly as he had pulled him into the hug, Kurt backed away, gripping Blaine's arms tightly. The look on his fiance's face was one of confusion and asphyxiation. After giving him a second to take a deep breath, Kurt put both of his hands on Blaine's face,
"Those damned Nazi jerks are in the neighborhood," his voice trembled. Blaine was surprised,
"What? How do you know?"
"I saw their damn symbol on the wall of one of the shops a few blocks away. This is serious, Blaine. We need to be more careful…" Blaine pulled away from his boyfriend and waved his hands in front of him to stifle the string of words falling out of Kurt's mouth,
"Kurt, calm down. I get it. What do you suggest?"
Without saying a word, Kurt approached the kitchen table where he had set a small plastic bag when he arrived. From this bag materialized two small canisters and two metal keychains adorned with small, flat silver rings. Kurt motioned for Blaine to join him at the table and proceeded to pull out the chair for him.
A canister and a keychain were placed in Blaine's hands, almost adamantly. He examined them for a moment, turning them around in his hands. He paid close attention to the label on the canister and let out a snort,
"Pepper spray?" his voice was laced with both disbelief and sarcasm as he looked at Kurt. The expression that was returned was much the opposite. Kurt's baby blues were more serious now than Blaine had ever seen them. He nodded vigorously,
"Yes. Pepper spray. I want you to keep that with you at all times while walking outside. And this too," he took the keychain from Blaine and, holding the flat silver ring between his thumb and index finger, pressed down hard. The sound omitted from the tiny device was near deafening and caused both of them to jump. "It's a personal alarm and I want this in your coat pocket at all times. I'm not playing around anymore."
Blaine remained surprisingly calm throughout this entire exchange. It started to ruffle Kurt's feathers a bit more for he was getting the feeling that Blaine did not share his level of concern. The agonizing scene of Blaine playing around with the two items Kurt had purchased made him want to scream. When Blaine looked up from tinkering with the implements, he flinched at the expression on his boyfriend's face.
"Okay, Kurt. I get it. Watch, I am putting it in my coat pocket right now." Blaine stood from his chair, strolled over to his black coat hanging by the door and deposited both items in the left pocket for Kurt to see. When he returned to the table, Kurt stood from his seat, forgetting his own pepper spray and alarm on the table, and took Blaine's face in his hands.
"I would die if something happened to you, Blaine. I would be absolutely gutted."
Blaine put his hands on top of Kurt's and could see the tears welling up in his lover's eyes. As the streams stained his cheeks, Blaine's eyes empathetically followed suit. Seeing Kurt like this killed him.
"Nothing is going to happen, Kurt. I promise."
"Don't say that, Blaine! You don't know. Just promise me you will do your best to stay safe."
His partner nodded, tears now staining his face. "I will always protect you, Kurt. With everything I've got. I won't let anything bad happen to you."
Kurt pressed his forehead against Blaine's,
"From now on, on Monday's I will come to the record store and stay until you are done with work. On Friday's you will stay with me at the diner. I don't want either of us walking alone again. No questions asked."
"No complaints here."
They pulled each other close and stood in silence for a while. Blaine could feel the comforting sensation of Kurt's hand rubbing circles on his back. It was always his way of saying "It's okay, I've got you and I love you," without using words. Any time he felt it, he always knew he was safe. Burying his face in the crook of Kurt's neck, Blaine could feel the emotion bubbling up inside him. Before he knew it, they were both sobbing in each other's arms. Hugging turned to swaying, and swaying evolved into resting their faces against one another.
"No matter what happens, Kurt, these Nazi bastards won't win."
In an instant, Kurt broke from the hug and, with his hand placed lovingly against the back of Blaine's neck, pulled his lover into a deep kiss. Their soft lips brushed together and sent tingling sensations through their bodies. Kurt massaged his boyfriend's mouth in ways he didn't know he could, feeling the erotic desire as Blaine returned the affection.
Standing once again enveloped in the silence of the apartment, Kurt and Blaine stayed for several minutes. The fear was evident for the pair, but they knew that in each other's arms they would be safe. In each other's arms they felt loved.
Monday:
Red light reflected off the sidewalk from outside. The outline of the words MOSH PIT were slightly discernible within that light. Blaine's eyes were fixed on it, but not really paying attention to it. It was more of a mindless movement as his fingers slid across the strings of the guitar in his hands. From behind him, he had grabbed one of the several electric instruments that hung on the wall. Their organized placement called to the would-be musicians that entered the establishment. Tonight, Blaine's task was to make sure each one was tuned and ready for any patron to try. Andy, his boss, always trusted Blaine with the upkeep of the instruments because he trusted his unmatched musical talent. Blaine had the ability to tune the guitars without the assistance of technology which made him an irreplaceable employee. Thankfully, this brought him some very serious job security. It also brought along some unusual perks.
Before the beginning of his shift, Blaine had discussed the recent stories about hate crime violence with Andy. He also mentioned that he and Kurt were hoping to keep each other as safe as possible in light of these events. Since Blane was such a valuable member of his staff, Andy had no problem letting Kurt stay in the break room while Blaine finished off his shift. He understood their desire to keep one another safe,
"Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Blaine," he said, patting him on the back.
As Blaine returned the white Fender to the hook behind him and grabbed the Gibson beside it, he smiled at the words his boss had said. Upon his arrival to New York, Blaine recalled it being overwhelming and stressful. One saving grace had been finding his job at Mosh Pit. Not only was he able to surround himself with music every time he worked, but he had established a very strong relationship with Andy. This had opened his circle of friends to more than just the people he knew from Lima, which Blaine considered very valuable.
The notes that he was plucking out on his current instrument had met his satisfaction. As he raised his gaze to the shelves of sheet music near the middle of the store, he noticed a man standing near the Broadway section looking at him with interest. There wasn't anything peculiar about him but the look on his face conveyed a keen curiosity for the Gibson that sat on Blaine's lap. The man did not avert his gaze when he realized that Blaine was paying closer attention to him.
"Interested in Broadway, sir? I think you and I will get along."
The nod he gave in return signaled Blaine that he could approach. Keeping the guitar strapped about his shoulders, Blaine held out his hand toward this mysterious visitor and introduced himself. The man smiled, returning the handshake firmly,
"Peter Abel. Pleasure to meet you, Blaine. I see you have a penchant for stringed instruments." his green eyes beamed in admiration of Blaine and his talent, "I'm afraid I must confess that I was watching you for some time. I am always envious of those who have such innate musical talent. You, my friend, can tune a guitar without a tuner?"
Blaine mockingly shooed at Peter, "Meh, I'm okay, I guess. It's just something that I spent a lot of time practicing. You could do it too if you spent as much time tinkering with these things as I did. Sometimes I did it when I should have been doing school work, so there's that."
Peter snickered and returned to flipping through the carefully organized sheet music. Standing before him, Blaine could now see how much he and Peter had in common when it came to grooming practices. His dark hair was slicked back in a similar fashion, but he brushed it to the left side of his head instead of the right. Although he was devoid of a bowtie, Peter did seem to take an interest in carefully pressed dress shirts and very clean cut pants. The look was finished with a dark fitted vest that enveloped his long, thin torso.
"So," Blaine began, as he turned back to the wall and replaced the electric Gibson on its display hook, "what brings you to Mosh Pit, Peter? Are you looking for any particular music?"
"I would say it's more of a search for inspiration than anything. I do say that you have quite an impressive repertoire here."
Peter was successful in piquing Blaine's interest,
"Inspiration for what, may I ask?" he folded his arms in front of him and leaned in, wanting to catch every detail. Anyone who was remotely interested in Broadway music was already displaying good taste as far as he was concerned.
"Well, I came in a few months ago and I have been looking for something to get the ideas flowing in my head. You know?"
Blaine tilted his head, showing his curiosity,
"Just came in from where?"
"I was in California for a few years. I am a writer, actually. I just got sick of the job out there. I was in a corner office writing the same boring shit day in and day out. My hope was to write stage reviews, but there isn't much stage out there. It's basically Hollywood overshadowing the entire arts scene," as Peter spoke, Blaine was certain he could hear a bit of heartache in his voice, "So, I packed up and moved out here. Everyone knows that the NYC arts scene is unmatched, so I tried to get my foot in the door at the Times."
Blaine's eyes practically jumped out of his skull. His face beamed and his jaw dropped,
"You got a job at the NYT right when you got here? Damn!"
Peter shrugged, showing a bit of humility,
"I guess my sob story was convincing enough. But the reviewing was only the first part of it. My real dream is to write a Broadway show. I want to see my work being interpreted on that stage some day."
"You will, Peter. I think the fact that you got into NYT so quickly is a clear indication of your determination. So, any particular genre you are looking at? For this play, I mean?"
Peter's eyes looked toward the ceiling, searching for a response. Blaine looked down at the collection of sheet music that Peter had been browsing and saw Fiddler on the Roof in his hand. This gave him a slight indication of what he was about to say.
"My ultimate goal is to create a musical, but I would have to do it with a partner."
"Why is that?" Blaine inquired. Peter shook his head and looked down at the floor. He then met Blaine's gaze with shame in his eyes,
"I can't play an instrument to save my life. I have always wanted to, though."
This confession made Blaine more excited than a kid in a candy shop. He spread his arms wide and his face beamed with excitement. With his hands on Peter's arms, he shook him playfully,
"You are in the right place, my friend. Come with me."
Returning the sheet music to its rightful place, Peter hesitantly followed the enthusiastic musician to the back corner of the store. Blaine took a seat at the majestic baby grand displayed there and began playing a few bars. With his hands in his pockets, Peter approached the instrument apprehensively. His body language suggested that he was afraid the piano would pounce on him. Blaine laughed, stood from the piano bench and beckoned his new friend to sit next to him.
"It's time for your first mini lesson, Peter. And your teacher will be, well, me."
Blaine could feel the tension in Peter's body as he took a seat beside him on the bench. He found it somewhat endearing that a man with such an indomitable will was so reserved with some ivory keys. In his usual charismatic way, Blaine began to serenade this man with one of the many songs in his repertoire. The first few chords of "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry filled the room and the remaining customers and employees erupted in a collective cheer. Peter watched in awe while Blaine demonstrated his passion and expertise in the form of a popular pop song.
"How is it that you have such talent?"
Blaine shrugged,
"I don't know. I guess I have always just been obsessed with it. I was in the Glee Club in high school. That's where I met the love of my life."
"And would that love be music, by chance?" Peter asked. Blaine chuckled and shook his head,
"Well, I suppose that is one of the loves of my life. His name is Kurt. I actually followed him here to New York so we could go to NYADA together. You could say he has a certain knack for music as well. This is actually the first song I sang to him on the day we met. It holds a very special place in my heart."
Peter smiled and nodded. He patted Blaine's back amicably,
"It's quite the love story, my friend. Now, show me how to be just like you. I must learn."
After sharing a moment of laughter, Blaine gave Peter a short introduction of the music scale and how it related to the ivories before him. Before he knew it, Peter was engrossed in the lesson with unbridled concentration.
As soon as Kurt heard the introduction to that special song, he immediately closed his book, stood from his chair and walked out onto the sales floor. He didn't want to bother Blaine while he was working, so he just pretended to be another patron while he took in the beautiful melody of his boyfriend's voice. A short walk to the shelves of sheet music placed him in the middle of the store where the sound reverberated off the walls.
Kurt closed his eyes and brought himself back to that day at Dalton. He remembered being so nervous and in need of companionship. All he saw was a sea of unknown faces swimming past his little raft of loneliness. The palpitations were real, until he saw a sign of hope swoop past him. Blaine had been a beacon in the darkness. He had responded to Kurt's whimpering plea for assistance eagerly and willing to help. Blaine was the one positive constant for the rest of the days that followed.
And that brought him to today. His eyes took in the scene once more as he turned to the piano again. The room erupted in applause at the conclusion of Blaine's song. He waved sheepishly to the crowd, giving his humble thank you in response. It was then that he and Kurt met eyes and Blaine's face lit up. Kurt saw him elbow the man sitting next to him and point to him from afar. The mysterious patron to his right nodded with a sudden glimmer of recognition in his eyes and waved. Kurt responded with a friendly wiggle of his fingers. Blaine must have been talking about him again. He couldn't help but love it when his boyfriend gushed about him to other men.
In that moment, it wasn't just the memory of meeting this man that brought Kurt so much joy, it was the fact that he too was so happy. Their dream of being together and doing what they loved most was beginning to materialize. And Kurt couldn't have asked for anything better.
After a short introduction to the piano, Peter and Blaine had spent nearly an hour sharing their interest in Broadway musicals. Much to Blaine's surprise, he and Peter had a lot of the same favorites when it came to theater shows. By the time Blaine's shift had ended, he had not only gained a few more hours of pay, but a new friend. He hoped that he would see Peter again soon. It was always more enjoyable when the patrons had something in common with him.
"So, who was that man at the piano?"
Kurt and Blaine were sitting comfortably on their couch, enjoying each other's warmth. They both fit perfectly, sitting alongside one another, their limbs entangled . Other than the dim flicker of candle light, the apartment remained dark. Artie had been held up at work for the last few days and had only been able to communicate via text. He sent his regrets and mentioned that he did want to meet with them sometime soon,
...my boss is just on my ass about finishing this project. Sorry, guys. Love.
Kurt and Blaine weren't particularly sad that they got to spend more quality time with each other. They loved it when they could enjoy some of their favorite pastimes with no interruptions. Blaine squeezed Kurt's arm that was draped over his chest,
"Oh, he was a new customer. His name is Peter. He said he came in from California a few months ago and was looking for a job reviewing Broadway shows. I was teaching him a short piano lesson."
Kurt tilted his head so it rested against Blaine's temple. He felt like the big brother, shielding the small child from danger. Blaine fit so perfectly in his arms. He returned the affectionate squeeze on his lover's arm and smiled,
"I love watching you play. And you looked so happy teaching him."
Blaine moved in closer, practically burying himself in Kurt's form. He turned his head to the right and placed a soft kiss on Kurt's jawline.
"I just hope he enjoyed himself."
Kurt's gaze met those honey-colored eyes as the corner of his mouth curled into a smile,
"I'm sure he loved it."
Blaine's eyes were getting heavy. Kurt could see that he struggled to stay awake as his blinking appeared deliberate and forced. Kurt stroked the younger one's cheek, urging him to close his eyes and rest. Blaine obliged as his head rested against Kurt's chest and his eyes disappeared behind heavily lashed lids.
"I wouldn't trade this for anything else," Kurt whispered into his lover's ear and pulled him tightly against his body. If he was hurting him, Blaine did not say so. He seemed to have nodded off rather quickly. His face was still and peaceful as the light from the candles danced across his smooth skin. Kurt pressed his lips against Blaine's forehead and remained there for several moments. The sleeping man did not stir. He simply smiled in his sleep, knowing he wouldn't trade it for anything else.
Tuesday:
Like clockwork, Blaine was waiting patiently at the entrance to the Starlight Diner to walk home with Kurt. While they had not received any recent alerts of stories regarding the recent hate crimes, they still exercised caution. Not only did it make them feel safer, but it gave them an excuse to be together.
The eight o-clock crowd was sparse on a Tuesday night. Very few of the tables were full, and the wait staff had dwindled down to a select few. He spotted Kurt exiting the kitchen, now adorned in his stylish fall coat. Before reaching the door, he stopped at a booth halfway between Blaine and the kitchen and placed a hand on the shoulder of the customer seated there. The man looked well put together with his thin framed glasses and fitted sport coat. After a short conversation, he patted Kurt's hand and smiled. His eyes followed Kurt while he made his way to the door.
"Is that Elias?" he asked. Kurt was caught off guard for a second, forgetting that he had been on full display only moments before. He chuckled nervously,
"Oh, yeah, that's him." They both turned to face Elias who acknowledged them with a friendly salute. Blaine smiled and waved back. He interlaced his fingers with Kurt and the two of them exited the restaurant, being greeted by a cool evening breeze. They synchronously turned up their coat collars and began their trek in the direction of the apartment.
"I want to meet him someday," Blaine continued the conversation. Kurt nodded,
"Oh, yeah, I invited him to join us during our lunch break on Thursday. Are you cool with that? You know, he wants to meet you too."
Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand and pulled him in until their noses were touching,
"Oh he does, does he? And why is that?" His voice was mockingly scolding of his boyfriend, who responded in kind,
"Because the only thing I tell him about is how amazing and handsome you are." His eyebrows did a little dance and their lips brushed together. Blaine raised an eyebrow,
"You sure as hell better have told him that," after another stolen kiss Blaine said, "and I accept your invitation."
"You had better, bitch."
"I love it when you talk dirty," Blaine whispered after he once again pulled his boyfriend's ear close to his mouth. They had both had the intention of sharing another kiss, when their moment of passion was interrupted by a cacophony of hurtful words from across the street. While they weren't sure whether the words were directed at them, they moved closer together and increased their gaits.
"Hey, you faggots, get a room! No one wants to see that shit!"
Kurt risked a look behind him and was met with a tall, slender man holding his arms above his head. The streetlights did not help in discerning any more of his features. Kurt placed his hand on Blaine's back and urged him to move faster. The man continued his belligerent shouting,
"Why don't you just get the hell out of town, you fairies. You little pansies!"
Kurt's heart was pounding against his sternum. He could feel a cold layer of sweat on his brow as the images before him tunneled. The adrenaline was beginning to course through his veins as his body moved into survival mode. It was then that the real fear began to sink in and he leaned toward Blaine,
"I love you," he whispered, wondering if this may be the moment of truth. Blaine closed his eyes, sending a message of understanding to Kurt as they squeezed each other's hands again.
"HEY! I SAID KNOCK IT OFF, FAGS!"
Their ears were plagued with the sound of heavy footsteps approaching from the left. Blaine's eyes scanned the sidewalk and he could see the concerned faces of bystanders not really knowing what to do. He was appreciative of their concern, but that wasn't what he or Kurt needed at that moment. They needed someone to come forward and defend them.
They had to move quickly if they had any chance for escape. Kurt was aware that it was two of them against one of him, but he appeared to be much larger and athletic than both of them. He had a feeling this man would have the upper hand were they to get into a physical altercation. As if their minds were linked, both of them burst into a run. Blaine turned back and could see that he and Kurt had gained about half a block in distance between them and their adversary.
"Let's take the shortcut. I think the next alley cuts through. We might be able to get to the apartment undetected if we go that way," Kurt said in between gasps. Blaine acknowledged him with a nod as the two of them went from a run to a sprint. Their legs burned, their lungs burned and their minds were clouded by the fear of being killed by a complete stranger. Never before had they been tested so physically and mentally in their lives.
The alley was only a few feet ahead of them. Blaine put his hand on Kurt's back and pushed him forward, giving him the lead. As they rounded the corner to the right, Blaine could hear the angry shouts from behind and he knew the man was almost on him. By the time they were halfway down the alley, he could almost feel a breath on the back of his neck.
One second, Blaine was aware of his boyfriend running ahead of him. The next thing he knew, his hands slid across the pavement and a heavy weight plastered him to the ground. The man's breath tickled his ear as he spat more hateful words,
"Thought you could get away, huh? Not this time."
Blaine closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he waited for the first blow. To his surprise, he heard Kurt scream after him,
"Get the fuck off of him, you asshole!"
There was a short tussle. Blaine could hear Kurt struggling with their assailant until he too was thrown to the ground with a painful grunt. A powerful fist grabbed a handful of Blaine's hair and yanked him to his feet. It was only seconds later that his back was shoved up against the wall of one of the buildings and he was forced to face this man. His piercing blue eyes, framed by a chiseled and pale face, looked almost animalistic. With lips pursed, the man backed away and with a powerful swing, landed a fist on Blaine's face. The force of the abuse threw him to the ground again. This time, he covered his head with his arms and anticipated another painful blow to his body. Kurt's protests went unheeded and he knew that this may be the last time he heard his boyfriend's voice.
"Hey! What is going on here?!" a familiar voice sounded from the end of the alley where Kurt and Blaine had entered. The man was caught off guard as he turned toward the person who was interrupting his fun. Blaine took this as an opportunity and, reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out the canister of pepper spray. When the attacker showed little to no interest in the individual who had stopped him, he turned back toward his prey only to receive a generous amount of the corrosive aerosol in his eyes.
Screams of agony echoed off the walls of the alley as the man slouched over, gripping his face. He stood there for a long time, trying to fathom what had just happened. Blaine turned his attention to the person who had saved his life.
"Peter!" While he was grateful to see his new friend, he never thought this would be how they met again. Peter moved toward him in haste as Blaine was oblivious to the fact that his attacker was moving in to hurt him once more. Kurt shouted from behind him,
"NO! BLAINE, LOOK OUT!"
Peter intervened at lightning speed. Crouching down, he sprinted up to the man and buried his shoulder into his gut, causing him to tumble to the ground. In shock, the man got back to his feet and stared at Peter through squinted eyes. To Kurt and Blaine's surprise, Peter remained calm and showed no indication that he was going to entice this man to fight. The assailant grunted like a bull and advanced on his new foe without hesitation. Peter stepped aside, stuck out his foot and caught the man's ankle with the toe of his shoe. After somersaulting on the pavement, he stood clumsily and disappeared from the alley, not willing to endure any more humiliation.
Kurt practically fainted when he realized that he and his betrothed were once again safe. After painfully making it to his feet, he approached Blaine who held his face with a grimace. No words were exchanged. They just held each other like it was their last chance.
"Are you alright?" Kurt's voice broke, his words coming out in a painful whimper. Blaine nodded, his face rubbing against the taller one's cheek as he did so. He tightened his grip on Kurt's shoulders and he could feel the tears stinging his eyes. For a moment, he saw his life flash before his eyes. When his body hit the pavement, he was certain that was it. The fact that he could hold his loved one in his arms at that moment overwhelmed him. He had never been so happy to be alive.
"Oh my God, Peter." Blaine pulled away from the hug, forgetting that they had both just been saved by a good Samaritan. He and Kurt approached him and pulled him into their hug, weeping tears of gratitude to their new friend.
"Are you alright, gentlemen?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. He patted the both of them on the back and looked them in the eyes, trying to get some kind of response. He was answered with nods and Kurt spoke up,
"Thank you for saving us. How can we ever repay you?"
Peter shook his head,
"No need. I heard the shouting from over there," he indicated with a point of his finger in the direction from which he had appeared, "and I came running. I wasn't really sure what was happening or who was involved, but I am glad I came. I would have been so heartbroken had I missed the opportunity to help a friend."
The three men stood in the darkness of the alley for a moment, collecting their thoughts and catching their breath. Blaine rubbed the side of his face again and moved his jaw back and forth as if to make sure it was still attached. He made sure to hold on to his fiance with the other hand. There was no way he was letting go of him after what he had just experienced.
Amidst all of the emotion, Kurt let out a chuckle and turned to Peter,
"I'm sorry that this is the way we have to officially meet. I am Kurt," he held his hand out to Peter who took it without hesitation and returned the gesture firmly, "and let me just say that I am so grateful to know you right now."
Peter scoffed playfully and shrugged,
"It's okay, my friend. Don't feel guilty or like you have to repay me. I'm just glad I was able to do something to help. Can I walk you two home, or at least to the end of the block?"
Kurt and Blaine, while grateful for his help, declined. They mentioned wanting to have a heart to heart on their way back home and said their goodbyes. Peter turned back toward the street after giving Blaine and Kurt one more friendly pat on the shoulder, telling them to take it easy for the rest of the night. They both couldn't agree more, as they pulled each other close and continued their journey to the apartment. Their senses were on high alert for the rest of the walk. The pair was able to make it home successfully, still holding each other close.
Wednesday :
A fast tempo met his ears as Blaine found himself once again at Mosh Pit, trying to assist a customer with a new guitar. While the overall atmosphere of the place was positive, it could not bring Blaine out of his depressed stupor. Being surrounded by music did not bring him his usual dose of joy. It was clouded by the ugly, terrifying memories.
The prior evening's events replayed in Blaine's mind. Every once and awhile, one of his coworkers had to wave his or her hand in front of him to bring him back to the present day. He found himself saying "Sorry, just didn't get enough sleep last night," which was answered by concerned glances. Faking a smile for much longer would bring him to his wits end. He wanted to go home. He wanted to hold Kurt in his arms because at least he knew he was safe there.
"So, do you recommend that I go with the Gibson or the Fender?" a young female customer looked at Blaine expectantly. His mind wandered as he gave her a robotic response,
"The Gibson is your best bet," was all he could muster. Thankfully, this woman wasn't looking for an overly bubbly attendant and she went about her business, satisfied with that answer. His ears were tuned to the sound of the door opening and closing and he groaned inside. Why couldn't all of these people just leave so he could stop having to talk to them? The fact that he didn't want to interact with another human was another indication of how much the previous night had affected him.
"Blaine?" Peter's voice came from behind and he swung around at lightning speed. Before any more words could be spoken, Blaine walked right up to him and pulled him into a tight hug. Peter was caught by surprise and his eyes scanned the store awkwardly. People looked on in amusement at the public display of affection, but did not seem to dwell on it. With a gentle pat on Blaine's back, Peter cued him in to the fact that he was holding him in the middle of the store. He flinched at this, bringing himself back to the present moment.
"Peter, I think Kurt and I would be dead if you hadn't helped us last night. I can't tell you how grateful we both are for what you did. I…" Peter held his hands up, silencing his friend.
"While your gratitude is appreciated, it is unneeded. I'm just glad to see you here, Blaine. I was afraid you had been traumatized by what happened last night."
The sight of his new friend had changed his demeanor and he answered with a genuine smile,
"It did traumatize me, but seeing you makes me feel better, because it will help me forget about it," with that comment, Blaine quickly changed the subject, "What brings you here, Peter?"
"Well, I took your advice from last time and I want to invest in a keyboard for my apartment. What do you recommend?"
Beckoning Peter to follow him, Blaine turned toward the wall opposite the guitars where a plethora of keyboard options were displayed. The expression on Peter's face suggested he was overwhelmed by the choices. So many of them had an abundance of fancy features that he didn't know where to start. Blaine could sense his confusion and started walking him through the differences in products.
Halfway through his mantra, a funny feeling manifested in the pit of Blaine's stomach. The details of last night's encounter replayed in his mind. One thing stood out. He and Kurt were not particularly close to the Mosh Pit and yet Peter had been there at a moment's notice. The store was considered part of the Bushwick area, but it was definitely on the outskirts. Was it coincidence? What was Peter doing in that part of the neighborhood? Peter seemed to catch on to Blaine's rumination,
"Is everything alright? You look like something's bugging you," he wondered.
Blaine squinted his eyes and glanced back at his friend. Peter suddenly became uncomfortable, feeling like Blaine was scrutinizing him and he shifted awkwardly on his feet.
"What were you doing in that part of town?" The space between them filled with the din of the store. Peter looked somewhat guilty at hearing that question and made no move to respond. Blaine tried to lighten the mood and leaned in closer, "Were you stalking me?" He chuckled and saw the tension melt from Peter's shoulders.
"No, I was at a sports store not too far from there. I noticed something spray painted on the wall and I went in to ask the store owner about that. He told me about some horrific crimes that have been on the news lately. So sad."
Blaine's face went chalk white,
"You saw the die Stärke symbol? And, wait a minute, you haven't heard about the hate crimes?!" he was bewildered by the fact that his friend was ignorant to the latest news. Peter's nose scrunched up, displaying a disconnection,
"I don't really watch the news, Blaine. And...die Stärke? What the hell is that?"
Blaine scoffed,
"Obviously this person who filled you in did not give you all the details. It's the name of the Neo-Nazi gang that is targeting the LGBTQI community. A part of me wonders if we encountered one of them last night what with the nasty comments that guy made."
A shiver went up and down Peter's spine. He shook his head in disgust,
"One would have thought those hateful ideas died off a long time ago. I guess not, huh?"
Blaine nodded in agreement and turned back to the keyboards, hoping to convince Peter to purchase one of the more fancy ones. He knew he was possibly projecting his own wishes upon him because he really wanted it in his own apartment. The sale was interrupted by a friendly slap on the back from his friend. Blaine glanced back at him, slightly confused.
"Now that I know they were targeting your particular community, I'm really glad that I was there, Blaine. I mean that sincerely."
They stared at each other for a while. Blaine could hardly believe this man. How could he be so incredibly kind after just meeting someone? He had placed himself in danger last night to protect him and Kurt. He never would have even begged someone to do that for them and here he had gone and done it without provocation.
"The feeling is mutual. For me and Kurt. Now, let's get back to keyboards."
Thursday:
It was going to be a normal Thursday and they were determined to keep it that way. The morning routine had gone without a hitch. The bed was made, the wardrobe chosen, bodies washed, hair straightened and breakfast eaten. Kurt and Blaine were now walking hand in hand to the end of the block. Everything was in its rightful place. They had witnessed no harbingers in the form of broken toothbrushes or spilled milk. And now the image of the coffee stand was growing larger as they approached. Then the anvil fell on them.
Ignacio was not his normal bubbly self this morning. Typically, he was cheering at the top of his lungs when he saw them, praising their adorable relationship with kisses and a coo of delight. This morning his appearance could only be described as frazzled. The tension was evident in his body as his movements came across as rigid.
The couple approached the counter nervously, trying to distract Ignacio with a laugh and a friendly hello.
"Ignacio, how are you this morning?" Blaine's face beamed. Ignacio didn't return the happiness. Kurt and Blaine exchanged a worried glance. After a shrug of their shoulders, they turned back to their barista friend. He walked over to them and leaned on the counter, supporting himself on his elbows. After a heavy sigh, Kurt started to panic. There it was. There was their harbinger of doom. The rest of the day was ruined.
"Amigos," only one word filled the silence for a few minutes. Ignacio looked like he was trying to muster up the energy to continue, "I am worried about you. The things going on in this barrio are scary."
Blaine reached across the counter and placed his hand over Ignacio's. He returned the gesture by placing his other hand on top of Blaine's. That's when he and Kurt saw the tears fall from his face.
"What's wrong?"
After a sniffle and a quick rub of his eyes, Ignacio turned around and collected two coffee cups from his inventory. WIthout a word, he filled the cups with hot coffee and returned to his friends. They waited patiently outside the booth until the cups materialized before them. They flinched in surprise as their barista friend placed a hand on the side of each of their faces. He looked at them lovingly,
"There was another hate crime. It was really bad, amigos."
Kurt and Blaine looked shocked. They had made an effort to avoid the news this morning, for fear it would taint their good luck. Unfortunately, they were unable to avoid it completely. Ignacio continued,
"These Nazi cabrones. They killed these two women in their own home. Just because they loved each other. No sense. I was hoping that with the last crime, these cabrones were maybe lightening up and leaving people alive. Not true. And what's worse...it happened over there," his gaze focused on something behind Kurt and Blaine. They turned around and looked at the apartment complex on the other side of the street. Their hearts skipped a beat as they were faced with the horrible symbol of the die Stärke gang stamped across the front door. They were officially surrounded by these hateful people. Being careful took on a whole new meaning from that point on.
"Please be careful, amigos. I am really worried about you. I have always admired the love you have for one another, but I don't want you to get killed because of it. Just stay safe, okay?"
The concern in Ignacio's voice was endearing. Blaine and Kurt leaned over the counter and pulled him into a tight hug.
"Thank you, Ignacio. We will be careful."
Blaine reached into his pocket to get the money for the coffee when the barista stopped him,
"It's on me today. Hasta luego." he blew the two boys a kiss and then disappeared to the other side of the counter to help another customer.
Walking hand in hand, the pair made their way to the subway station. At first, they walked in silence, not certain what they could say that would improve the situation. Something had to be said, though.
"Did you hear from Garret," Blaine asked. Kurt just shook his head vigorously. He squeezed his lover's hand nervously.
"We should move out," he said suddenly, "they are only getting closer and we are tempting fate."
Blaine stopped abruptly with both of his hands gripping Kurt's arms. He almost wanted to shake some sense into him,
"I know they are getting closer and I know we may be tempting fate, but remember what you said to me. If we give in and run with our tails between our legs then they win. Let's show them that we aren't scared."
Kurt's eyes gleamed as the tears spilled over and stained his cheeks. Blaine pulled him into a hug and kissed him on the cheek. They held each other for a moment and regained their composure. Kurt's breathing levelled out and he backed away from his boyfriend, taking in every detail of his appearance. After a moment he looked Blaine in the eye and gushed,
"Don't ever change, okay?"
Blaine smirked, "Never."
They took each other's hands once again and disappeared down the stairs to the train.
The familiar scent of brewing coffee brought a sense of relief to both Blaine and Kurt as they entered the Everyday Cafe. Blaine was eager to meet Elias after hearing Kurt gush about how lovely he was. In fact, he was almost jealous of the competition. If this man was as charming and wonderful as Kurt claimed, he may have to up his game.
The cafe was busier than usual today and their normal booth was occupied. This irked Kurt a little more than he wanted to admit.
"My friend!" the familiar voice bellowed from their right as they both turned their gaze in that direction. Kurt's face lit up when he saw Elias sitting at a table against the wall opposite the picture window. Blaine nudged him,
"Go ahead and I'll put our order in and come over."
Kurt hurried over to the table and greeted Elias with a tight hug. The softness of his friend's green sweater enveloped him as he affectionately rubbed his back. Elias made a sound of delight in Kurt's ear as they broke from the hug and took their seats. Elias looked around him,
"Finally we get to meet each other at a place you don't have to work, right?" he smiled.
Kurt nodded and looked toward the ceiling,
"Oh my God, I know! And I can finally introduce you to my soulmate."
As if he heard them talking about him, Blaine materialized next to the table with the plastic placard. He set it down next to the one that already occupied the wooden surface and turned to Kurt,
"Just wanted to let you know that Sam texted me again. He said he should be in next Saturday."
Kurt gave him a playful pat, sticking out his bottom lip,
"Awww, no more fun nights? Damn."
Blaine snickered and then turned to the tall bespeckled man sitting across the table from his fiance. He held his hand out as Elias stood from his chair. Before he knew what hit him, the man wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. Blaine wasn't accustomed to this type of greeting from a stranger, but he just went with it.
"You must be the amazing Blaine." Elias said as they faced each other. Blaine chuckled and, with wide eyes, turned to his man,
"Oh, I'm amazing, huh? I guess I should say thank you."
Kurt winked at him and mouthed, "I love you."
When all three of them were seated around the table, Elias inquired about the comment Blaine had made upon his arrival from the counter,
"So, do you mind me asking who Sam is?"
Normally Blaine would have been a bit taken aback by the slight rudeness, but since he was a friend of Kurt's, he decided to just let it go.
"He's our roommate. He's a professional model and he's been out of town for the last three weeks at a photoshoot. Which sadly means Kurt and I won't have the apartment to ourselves anymore. We love Sam, but the 'us' time is very special."
Kurt grabbed his hand and kissed it lovingly. Elias just sat and watched them interact. He was almost mesmerized by their affection for one another. Never had he seen two people so incredibly devoted to their relationship. He almost felt jealous looking at him, like he was spying on them. Despite the affection, he could tell something was slightly off about them.
"Kurt, if I may ask, have you been a little tense today?"
Without hesitation, he nodded and leaned back comfortably in his chair.
"Yeah, Blaine and I are just a little concerned about the recent events. Have you heard about the hate crimes? The ones about the Neo-Nazi gang?"
Elias changed into a completely different person. To Kurt and Blaine's surprise, he slammed his hand on the table angrily as his body went completely rigid. Some people nearby looked on curiously.
"Nazi trash!" he shouted. Turning to the side, he appeared to spit on the floor before turning back to his company. Kurt and Blaine looked like deer in the headlights. The sudden change of character almost made Kurt uncomfortable. Even though he had only known the man for a few days, this was a behavior that seemed completely out of character for him. He was the first to break the silence,
"Are you okay?"
After a moment of sitting with his arms crossed in front of him, almost like a pouting child, Elias leaned forward. Looking at his two friends, he realized that his outburst had made them uncomfortable, which he did not want,
"I'm sorry, my friends, but this is something that I take personally. I am from Germany and those Nazi assholes have completely tainted our country. Remember when I said I was trying to hide my accent? One of the things people would rub in my face was that I came from Nazi country. It pisses me off. They don't speak for all of us."
Kurt reached across the table and patted his hand lovingly. Blaine did the same.
"I'm sorry people are being nasty to you. Believe me, we know how it feels. Just know that you have friends in the two of us," Kurt explained.
Elias appeared to loosen up a bit at that comment as he leaned back in his chair and unfolded his arms. Blaine was hesitant to say anything. There was something off about this man and he couldn't put his finger on it. The sudden outburst gave him slightly bad vibes. What bothered him was that he wanted to trust this man, but his gut just told him not to.
"Anyway, Kurt and I have just been extra cautious lately, that's all. We are a little concerned about our safety, so we are trying to make sure we are together as much as possible when we go out."
Elias pointed at Blaine as if to be agreeing with him,
"You two are being wise. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."
Their conversation was interrupted momentarily by the wait staff of the cafe. Three plates of salad and three cups of iced tea were deposited on the table. After removing the plastic placards and thanking them for their business, the two waitresses returned to the order counter. All three of them dug into their salads ravenously, momentarily disregarding the crowd of hungry patrons at the surrounding tables. They remained silent for a moment as the food became more important.
Kurt wanted the meeting to go in a positive direction. He refused to allow them to go in silence for the rest of the meal.
"So, how is the new job, Elias? You told me earlier this week that you had interviewed at three different places, right?"
Elias didn't appear excited or upset when he responded with a nod. He washed down his bite of salad with a swig of iced tea.
"Yes, I interviewed, but I am still waiting to hear anything."
After swallowing his latest forkful, Blaine inquired,
"How are you getting by? Kurt said you came in from Germany recently, do you have anything to hold you over until you can get a job?"
From behind the order counter, a glass hit the floor and shattered. It sended a high pitched sound echoing through the cafe that made Blaine and Kurt jump in their seats. They remained there for a few moments with their eyes closed, concentrating on their breathing. Without even looking, they interlaced their fingers under the table. Kurt massaged the skin on his lover's hand in a soothing gesture. They were able to help each other regain composure and finally opened their eyes. Elias's expression had changed yet again, this time to a worried furrow in his brow. His eyes danced back and forth between Kurt and Blaine's as he wondered aloud,
"Are you okay, my friends? You looked like someone had just held a knife to your throats."
Blaine just looked at the floor, unable to think of a response. Elias turned to Kurt for an explanation.
"We were attacked a couple of nights ago on our way home from work. Blaine got tackled and punched by some guy that was spitting gay slurs at us. So, sorry, but we are a little on edge right now."
Elias set his fork on the edge of his plate and leaned back in his chair. His eyes searched his two friends, moving back and forth between their faces once more. His expression hinted at a need to do something, but knowing there really wasn't much he could do. Kurt sensed a hint of aggravation in Elias's mannerisms.
"Was it...the gang?" he asked in a whisper, hoping it would soften the blow. Both men shook their heads,
"We don't think so. He was just some drunk, belligerent bigot with his sights set on us."
"Well I am very sorry you had to experience that, my friends," he grabbed his glass of iced tea and held it up in front of them, "here's to better days ahead," he smiled, trying to lift some of the tension. Kurt and Blaine smirked and, lifting their glasses, repeated the toast and tapped them together.
After a quick sip of their teas, Elias returned to Blaine's previous question,
"To respond to your inquiry, Blaine, I have some funds saved up that should last me about six months. I'm just hoping to get a response on the job within the week. I appreciate your concern."
"No problem. Just looking out for the person who's looking out for my man."
The rest of the lunch progressed with friendly conversation about everything from school, to weekend pastimes to what they liked on their pizza. Despite the cheerfulness that surrounded them, Blaine still had this feeling in the pit of his stomach about this man. What bothered him more is that he couldn't figure out why. He was extremely friendly and only spoke of Kurt and Blaine with the utmost kindness. He tried to stifle the negative thoughts, but they always seemed to come back to haunt him. Was it the way he dressed? Was there a nervous tick that he was subconsciously picking up on? Blaine couldn't put his finger on it.
After about an hour, Kurt and Blaine regretfully had to head back to class. Elias was very understanding and extended gratitude for inviting him to join them for lunch. As they made their way out the door and onto the sidewalk, they stopped to exchange their final goodbyes.
"I hope to see you at the diner again shortly." he said with a smile. Kurt scoffed and rolled his eyes,
"My God, Elias, you should try to find a place with much better food. Aren't you sick of Starlight by now?"
Elias placed his hand on Kurt's shoulder and shook his head,
"The food is fine, my friend. I come for your company. You've been the beacon of hope for me in the last couple of weeks and I couldn't be more grateful."
Kurt's jaw dropped and he tilted his head to the side. Blaine followed suit as they both cooed,
"Awww, you are so sweet!"
With that, they each exchanged a quick hug and went their separate ways. As Blaine and Kurt approached the NYADA campus, Kurt could feel his phone vibrating in his coat pocket. After removing it and swiping his finger across the screen, he stopped dead in his tracks. Thankfully they were standing at the corner of the street and the crosswalk had not yet signaled them to move. Blaine was suddenly aware of his boyfriend's exasperated expression and he furrowed his brow with concern.
"What's wrong?"
Kurt didn't answer, and he just covered his mouth in what looked like a mixture of relief and incredulity. Displayed on the screen was a text...from Garret.
