Blaine was exhausted by Saturday, despite him getting twelve hours of sleep the night before. He was still bleary-eyed when he stumbled into the school hall, a cup of Lima Bean coffee firmly grasped in his hand. His Dalton uniform was replaced with a while polo shirt and light brown jeans. He'd thrown on a red hoodie and grabbed his rucksack (now containing his school uniform for the evening performance) before heading out the house, having barely had the will to gel his hair.
Kurt, however, had embraced the chance for winter fashion, and was wearing one of those fur-lined jackets he'd been raving about, over a simple white shirt and grey waistcoat – which was set off by grey trousers and chunky boots.
"Blaine!" Kurt skipped over to his friend excitedly. "You're late!"
Blaine yawned and blinked sleep from his eyes. "I need coffee. Sorry," he explained, motioning to the cup in his hand.
"It's twelve-thirty," Kurt said suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.
Shrugging, Blaine commented, "I've been feeling really tired lately. Maybe it's the cold." He looked out the window at the bleak drizzle and sighed.
"Well," pouted Kurt dramatically, "you'd better be feeling more awake by tonight. Mercedes is coming to see us and she's bringing all the New Directions with her."
Blaine smiled sleepily at the excitement in Kurt's voice, and shook himself awake. He had to perform in a few hours and he couldn't let Kurt down. "Right, okay," he said, dropping his bag near the wall and gulping the remains of his drink. "Let's do this."