**
Blaine blinked realising the bus had come to a halt. He had spent an hour going over sheet music for Mr Shuester and completing some of his history assignment for Ms Hagberg. He shoved his tablet into his bag and squinted to see out of the front of the bus. It was still midday and there were around half a dozen passengers still aboard. He watched as the bus driver got up from his seat with effort, grumbling to himself.

"Twenty minute service." He harrumphed. And with that he slowly vacated the bus and made a beeline toward the cafe.

Blaine bought three bacon rolls, some Gatorade and a pack of sour patch kids from the convenience store, stuck it all in his rucksack and piled back onto the bus. He sighed, he tapped his foot and picked at a loose thread of the embroidered red insignia on his bag (it read Ohio state- the slogan blared the fact that he was rooting hard for the Buckeyes). It was going to be a long 5 days trip, and he was going to miss Quinn's birthday party.

But distance be damned, he made time to visit his parent every school break and on occasional weekends if he could.

Blaine spent a sweltering further two hours happily munching on his bacon roll, listening to his iPod and helping old lady Doris (his seat companion) with her crossword puzzle.

"Two Down is Michelle Obama? Are you certain dear?"

Blaine assured her it was.

The fields and rolling hills swept by as the bus steadily made its way further south. He whiled away the hours counting cattle and tractors and more cattle. Ohio really was all farmland. It was quaint but he longed for a glimpse of a coffee shop or a theatre house. He daydreamed briefly about maybe going to study in New York or California one day if things went how he hoped. The bright city lights called everybody in this town. It was cliche, but if you wanted to become a writer, or a thespian, New York was your best shot. He shared his sour patch kids with Doris and her friend Myrtle, and they in return gave him some of their hard candies which he pocketed assuring them he'd eat them later.

The afternoon wore on and clouds gathered by 3pm. Blaine checked his phone. His mother had texted him that she would be out today, and that he should make himself comfortable. Mari would be making dinner for them later. Blaine sighed. His mother was a whirlwind, never stopping on her quest for friends and suitors. That's where Cooper (named after his father Cooper Graham) got it from. Hell thats where Blaine got it from.

His mother had had Cooper when she was barely out of her senior year in college. She had been far too young and her family had been astounded and disappointed that she had flushed her career down the sink by getting pregnant with a diplomat's son. As Italian families go they were very conservative. The pair were young and never married, but Blaine saw Coopers father often at family functions. He was a pale blonde wavy haired man with high cheekbones and known in their house as Uncle Coop (or Daddikins by Blaine's brother Cooper) and they had an odd relationship; more like friends than father and son... Cooper was a bit of a wild card, if you didn't know him well, you'd think he was cool to the bone and difficult to ruffle, but Blaine knew he resented his parents. There were certain things Cooper would get standoffish about.

Their family dynamic was a strange one. Cooper spent a lot of time in LA screenwriting and acting and Blaine barely saw him. His own father had been AWOL for many years. The last time Blaine had seen him, it had been a frosty affair where Palmira and he had finalised their divorce details. Blaine had no doubt that Anderson Sr's presence in his life was going to become as sparse as Coopers fathers presence. They would appear at parties standing awkwardly imbibing champagne with their dates and his mother would feign cheer and introduce them to her new boyfriends, and Blaine and Cooper would fail at making small talk before retiring to play pool in the outhouse.

The bus jolted and Blaine was snapped out of his reverie by Doris tapping him smartly on one shoulder.

"Isn't this your stop dearie? Westerville by that wonderful little delicatessen?"

Blaine jumped to peer out of the window. Outside was Schneider's Bakery and Graeter's ice cream Shop. This was definitely it. Scrambling to retrieve his things, Blaine nodded once at Doris and Myrtle and hopped off the bus, offering the driver a quick "thank you Sir!" Before his sneakers met the hot sun beaten sidewalk.

Blaine had dressed far too warmly for the day. He'd thrown on one of his countless maroon cardigans, over a striped shirt, which was thin enough to keep cool in usually, but unbearable in this heat. He slung it round his waist and tied it there. There was little he could do about his denim jeans or his shoes, but he could seek shelter in an air conditioned shop like when he was little, before walking the couple blocks to his moms house.

And that's exactly what he did. One ice cream sundae later and energised, Blaine was trudging determinedly though the tree lined suburb with an umbrella he used like a makeshift parasol. He thought about how Tina Cohen Chang had brought an actual bamboo hand crafted parasol to school last year, which he had coveted immediately. When she had come back from over summer break, having been away with her adoptive parents to Seoul, she had flashed and twirled a beautiful chinoiserie detailed parasol that went oddly well with her steampunk summer dress, and Blaine had wondered whether he could pull something like that look off. He had taken three separate photos of her and posted them immediately to his photography blog, she had looked so incredible in that outfit. He also took a few with an old vintage camera he had with him. That particular camera and film in his rucksack currently, it's bulk was comforting and reliable as it knocked a little into his side as he walked.

On his way down the street, Blaine passed several dog-walking neighbours he recognised. He saw Ally, who was his moms running buddy and neighbour. She was carrying her cocker spaniel puppy and was sporting the beginnings of a sunburn and a high ponytail.

"Its to hot for their paws, I'm taking her back in" Ally yelled at him from a few feet away. She looked out of breath and harassed. Misty kept trying to lick her ears and squirming in Ally's arms, and she wasn't so small anymore.

"Hi Blaine!"

"Hi! She got huge." Blaine said awed, as Ally approached him. He scratched Misty behind the ears and she tried to jump at him, her ears flapping wildly, before Ally pulled her back.

"She has so much energy these days!" Ally exclaimed as Misty frantically tried to gnaw her way to freedom.

"i'm going to have to walk her in the indoor park. Aren't I? naughty dog."

"Indoor park?" Blaine asked surprised.

Ally pointed behind him with one free hand and Blaine turned to look, squinting out from between the spokes of his umbrella.

In the far distance he could make out the faint blue outline of a vast, concrete, dome like structure swelling over the horizon like a giant tortoise shell. It hadn't been there on his last trip. Blaine widened his eyes; he was amazed he hadn't noticed it yet.. there were sillhouettes of towering cranes putting the finishing touches onto the smooth hexagonal segments of the dome like surface.

"How on earth..."

"Dunno if animals are allowed in there, but i think i can sneak her by." Ally smiled winningly.

Blaine tore his eyes away from the structure, deciding not to ask the million questions that popped into his head.

"How's Cooper by the way?"

They made small talk and parted ways. Blaine had always liked Ally; she had babysat him and Cooper as kids, and she'd always let them assume control over the laptop for Coopers dance tutorials. Usually teenagers would spend time moping in their rooms alone or texting secret girlfriends, but Cooper had been an odd teenager. He'd worn a leather jacket and swept his hair over his eyes dashingly of course, but his pastimes included making ill advised forays into ballet barre and kundalini yoga. He was practically made for L.A. Blaine smiled. He missed his brother very much, despite how overzealous he'd been with tutoring Blaine in the "Arts" as he called them.

Trudging the final stretch to his home, Blaine revelled in the smell of honeysuckle and ylang ylang as he passed the impressive gardens on this thoroughfare. The houses on this street were georgian style and his mothers was too. Blaine looked out on his childhood home, feeling his stomach roiling with fond memories and less fond memories too. The house was sizeable, and painted a delicate shade of periwinkle and white. The gardens grew vine roses, and potted olive trees lined the driveway.

He gave his last bacon roll to a homeless woman who was wheeling a shopcart past the house, and noticed his mother had left the sprinklers on. She did tend to turn the front yard into a swamp more often than necessary. He turned them off. Mari must be out as well.

Using his spare key, Blaine opened the door to the house and walked into the foyer, peering cautiously around. There was no sign of his mother, of course nor the aroma of Mari making dinner. Blaine toed off his sneakers and placed them in the shoe rack. He may as well unpack before heading out. He bounded up the wooden staircase, passing by his mom's room, and Coopers old room, before coming to his own door.

***