Party queens / if you wanna be seen / take a shit where you sleep / and smile real wide for the / pa-pa-pa-pa-paparazzi / pa-pa-pa-pa-paparazzi everywhere
cobra starship
…Blaine.
…Kurt.
CHAPTER five
It's on the news
of I'm Not Gonna Teach Him How To Dance With You
by littlemusings
Warnings: Tearjerkers / Brotherly!Finn / Pissed-off!Anthony / Depressed!Blaine / Pissed-off!Blaine / Awkward!Kurt
insert proper disclaimer here
I don't own Glee and whatnot. If I did…let's just say there would be more Klaine and fluffy rainbows.
There he was, in all his glory: Kurt Hummel. Blaine froze in his seat, still looking at his ex-boyfriend up and down. Kurt was wearing a simple black suit with a deep-red tie and silver tie clip – he was still impeccably fashionable, as always. His hair was still done upwards, a style Blaine always favored, and everything about Kurt was still as perfect as Blaine remembered, which made the pain in his chest hurt even more.
Yet, there was something about Kurt that had changed. He was more mature and seemed more…secretive. It seemed that he had a lot to hide about the past three years.
And that engagement ring sparkling on his finger didn't help him calm down at all.
"Hi," Kurt said nervously, hugging himself. Junie quickly left backstage and muttered something about meeting Duke, and Blaine bit his lip.
Blaine had to face this on his own. There was no Duke or Dani to help him out this time – he had no privacy or time to call his little sister or complain to his manager.
"Hi."
"You…you look great," Kurt said hoarsely, still by the backstage entrance. Blaine cleared his throat.
"Thanks…so do you. Have a seat," he said, gesturing towards a chair in front of him. Kurt obliged, and sat down, his entire body seemingly stiff.
Silence. The two looked at each other, a chill coming over their side of the ballroom.
"Why?"
"I can explain, Blaine."
They had spoken at the same time, with the same tense tone. Laughing nervously, Blaine adjusted himself and sat down straight.
"Sorry about that," Kurt mumbled, his face turning red.
"You don't have to…" Blaine began, but his voice trailed off. "Kurt, what are you doing back here?"
"I just…I…" Kurt stuttered. "I just wanted to, um, well, thank you for performing. And just to tell you, my…my…"
"Fiancé," Blaine finished distastefully. "I know. He asked me to perform here. Do you happen to know why?"
"He's a fan of you," Kurt blurted out.
"He knew we were…were together," Blaine grumbled.
"Were," Kurt said, the word making his heart feel heavier. "I'm sorry, Blaine. Why didn't you just decline the gig? You could have. He would have understood."
"It was partly my decision to come and play here tonight as a, you know, a courtesy. A congratulations."
Yeah, right, Kurt thought.
What am I saying? Blaine groaned in his head. I sound so stupid right now.
"I see."
Another pregnant pause filled the space between them.
"Why, Kurt?" Blaine said desperately, leaning back in his chair, arms folded. "Why?"
"Why, what?" Kurt asked, his throat dry.
"You know exactly what I'm asking."
"You know my exact reasons," Kurt said, looking away, arms folded tightly as well. "I told you three years ago."
"If you wanted to be rid of me, then what the hell are you doing backstage?" Blaine asked angrily, gesturing towards the stage. "Why did you even let your…your fiancé…hire me? That's injustice. It's supreme injustice, Kurt, and you do not know how much shit I've had to deal with because of this."
"Then why didn't you decline the job?" Kurt snapped back, standing up. Blaine stood up as well – unfortunately, Kurt was still taller than him. "And you are not the only person who had to deal with shit!"
"I honestly thought I needed to congratulate you on your happiness," Blaine said spitefully. "He's very good looking, so great job, Kurt. Oh, and you still haven't told me the fucking reasons why you didn't tell him no. Because if you had said something, it wouldn't have come to this."
"He insisted," Kurt said, feeling numb. "Anthony insisted."
"'He insisted,'" Blaine said bitterly. "Yeah, that's a wonderful reason."
It's true, Kurt thought, panicking.
"And dealing with shit? You too? I don't think so," Blaine snapped. "You're the one who left me!"
"I'm sorry for hurting you," Kurt hissed, his eyes stinging. Dear God, what did I do? "That was three years ago, Blaine! Three-fucking-years-ago!"
"Three fucking years I've spent as damaged goods because of you."
Damaged. Because of you. The words rang in Kurt's ears.
"Oh, now you're just being dramatic!" Kurt exclaimed, attempting to keep his voice low.
"Like you were three years ago? We could have talked about it, Kurt. We could have solved any problems we might have had, and I would have gladly fucking moved here with you. But no, unfortunately you said you didn't love me anymore and walked out of our apartment building, bags and all. You told me it was wrong to run away a long time ago, and that you didn't want to have that lump in your throat from running away. Guess what? If you have it, you deserve it. You just ran away."
"Wasn't this prom supposed to be about redemption? About taking away that lump you had in your throat from running away?"
Kurt thought, I just contradicted myself.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" Kurt hissed, pointing a finger at Blaine, who rolled his eyes.
"After how you talked to me?" Blaine said quietly, his eyes watering as well.
Kurt had to think fast. He had to talk to Blaine, and make sure that no one was around, that no one would care to notice—
"Blaine," Kurt said, his voice becoming gentler. "How much longer are you going to be in New York?"
"Why do you care?" Blaine said crossly, reaching for his guitar. "I'm going to perform in about an hour and a half or so, according to your schedule, so I suggest you go and greet your guests. I can hear some of them arriving already."
"This is my fucking party and I can stay here as long as I want."
"Sure, Kurt," Blaine grimaced, beginning to ignore him. Irate, Kurt made his way to the mini-doorway to the main ballroom, but before he closed the door, he breathed and turned around, his hand still on the doorway.
"Blaine."
Blaine was still ignoring him.
"Meet me at the Italian restaurant in SoHo; it's called Savore Ristaurante, if you're still here tomorrow. It's new and near my studio. Look up the menu. Dinner. We can…we can catch up."
"You're getting married, Kurt," Blaine whispered, looking back up at Kurt. His eyes were filled with tears. "I'm not going to meet you tomorrow."
"This is going to be a civil meeting," Kurt said, looking away. He rummaged through his slacks pocket and pulled out a card, leaving it on a chair. "My number is on there."
"Whatever," Blaine muttered, attempting to redirect his focus to his guitar. "I'm not going to go and screw around with you."
"Six o'clock. Just to talk."
"Goodbye," Blaine said finally. Kurt gave a rattling sigh and wiped his eyes quickly as he walked out of the backstage area.
Please come, Kurt thought to himself, Blaine's 'goodbye' echoing in his head.
Once Kurt left, Junie slinked back into the backstage area and picked up Kurt's business card. "Are you going to meet him?" she asked quietly. Blaine looked up from his guitar, quickly wiping the tears trailing down his cheeks. Junie nodded curtly and put down the card, going back to the mixing board.
To her surprise, Blaine stood up and walked over to where she put the card down and read it:
Kurt E. Hummel
Fashion Designer &/ Vogue Contributor &/ Broadway Performer
Mobile: 645-998-6971
E-Mail: kurtsiesandbowties pavarotti
"If it's not first class, you can kiss my ass."
Blaine attempted to suppress a smile as he read Kurt's choice of words for the bottom of the card. It was simply made, black with white lettering, with the Pavarotti logo on the bottom-center: a scarlet shield with the outline of a warbler flying through. He tucked the card in his pocket and looked at Junie. "Maybe. I'll think about it."
"Your choice, Blaine," she said, still stunned. Just then, Duke ran through the backstage area, his eyes wide with shock. "Oi, Whitely, what's with you?"
Duke looked at Blaine incredulously, attempting to stay quiet. "Nothing. Did I just see Kurt walk out of here? Did I? Holy shit, Blaine!"
"I need you to watch Danielle tonight. Can you be her escort?" Blaine asked quietly, arms folded. "Please, just watch her for me. Don't let her out of your sight."
"Blainers, I'm your manager, not your sister's watchdog."
Blaine gave him an apprehensive look that clearly read 'oh, whatever, just do it because I feel like throwing swords at you right now.' Duke groaned and nodded. "Make sure she doesn't drink a drop of alcohol. She seriously can wait until next Wednesday."
"You gonna be okay, man?" Duke asked seriously, patting Blaine's shoulder. Blaine nodded and turned away.
"Just watch Dani, okay?"
Danielle looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad, Danners, not bad, she thought, smirking. She was wearing a short, dark blue tube-top Burberry dress, and red pumps, an equally red clutch in her right hand. She twirled around in her dress, and laughed, her curls bouncing. If only my nose were a tad less bruised. Oh, well! She walked contentedly towards the sitting room of the suite, and found Duke sitting there, bored-looking.
"What are you doing here?" she said contemptuously, folding her arms. Duke looked up at her with his dark eyes and rolled them.
"I'm your escort for the evening, Danners," he simpered. "Come on, let's go. We've got fifteen minutes to go downstairs." He stood up and held his arm out for her to hook onto impatiently. Danielle looked at him up and down, admiring how well he had cleaned up, wearing a generic black suit with a thin lapel collar.
"You clean up well," she said, her cheeks turning a little red as she hooked onto his arm. "Despite your irritated demeanor at the moment, you look good."
"Oh, thanks," he mumbled. "Whatever, let's go. Don't forget your room key."
"How did you get in here, anyway? You should have a key if you got in."
"Blaine."
"He set this up, didn't he?" Danielle frowned, furrowing her eyebrows. "Goddamn it."
It would have been nice if he asked me out of his own volition.
"I'll let you go and do whatever you want once we get there, but if I smell one bit of vodka in your breath, I'll send you to an Alcoholics Anonymous session or two."
"I'm almost twenty-one, you dick—I mean, Duke," she said innocently as she fumbled to check if the room key was in her bag, letting go of Duke's arm.
"Bitch," Duke muttered to himself, his cheeks heating up.
"Yes, I'm an a-class bitch, sir," she said, shoving the key into his hands. She opened the hotel room door and walked out ahead of him.
"Where were you?" Anthony hissed as Kurt arrived. A large group of people had already arrived – people from Vogue and the art community. Kurt put on a fake smile and said to Anthony through gritted teeth,
"Bathroom."
Anthony rolled his eyes and continued to shake peoples' hands and greet them emphatically.
"Are your parents and brother coming?" he added, looking to Kurt. Kurt nodded sharply as the editor-in-chief of Vogue stepped in and gave him an enthusiastic, big hug and greeted Anthony as well, and then headed towards her seat on the high table.
"They'll be a few minutes late, but they're coming. I don't know about Finn and Quinn."
"Finn," Anthony muttered in distaste. "Oh, just remember, you and I are going to talk later."
Pointless, Kurt thought in annoyance. "Okay."
"Do me a favor and don't ruin this party for me," Anthony said warningly. Kurt frowned, but the expression wiped off of his face, replaced by happiness when his father, Burt, entered the ballroom in a crisp suit, followed by his stepmother, Carole.
Thank god.
"Hey, kiddo," Burt said happily, hugging his son. Kurt hugged back tightly and went to greet Carole.
"Congratulations, Kurt," she said, smiling brightly. Kurt turned around and saw Anthony and Burt talking, an obviously awkward air surrounding them.
"The place looks wonderful," Burt said, clearing his throat.
"Kurt dealt with decoration and design," Anthony nodded.
Oh, dear, Kurt thought to himself. Things had always been awkward between Burt Hummel and Anthony. When Kurt first introduced Anthony to his parents via Skype, Burt looked slightly taken aback at the fact that his son had found another person, just a year after he had broken up with Blaine. Burt never knew the reason why the pair broke up, and only knew that it was Kurt who had ended it (Kurt fiercely assured his father that Blaine did nothing to hurt him, though, which made Burt even more suspicious). Kurt and his father had their own conversation later on one day when Anthony was at his gallery somewhere on the Upper East Side, and Burt explained that he had missed talking to Blaine.
Burt sighed loudly, alarming Kurt.
"What's wrong, dad?" Kurt asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. "Is everything okay?" He maximized his father's image on his laptop.
"You never told me why you and Blaine broke up," Burt shrugged, holding his hands up in defeat. "I mean, Anthony seems like a nice guy and everything, but to be honest, I don't think he and I aren't going to click like, well, Blaine and I did."
"Dad, Blaine and I aren't together anymore," Kurt sniffed indifferently, his head slightly throbbing like it always did when someone mentioned his first relationship.
"I know, kiddo, but the thing is, you've got to know what you want. If Anthony's really who you want to be with, fine. I'm just saying that it would have been nice if he and I had fun conversations and stuff like…like Blaine and I did. About football. About cars."
"Oh, dad," Kurt groaned. "Stop comparing him to…Blaine."
"I don't mean to, it's just that I haven't talked to the kid in forever."
"Dad."
"Okay, fine, fine, fine," Burt muttered. He paused and looked up to face his son. "I want you to be happy. Let's just say that I, well, um, approve."
"Thank you, dad!" Kurt said happily, jumping in his seat.
"Let's go take our seats, then, shall we?" Carole said loudly, hooking her arm with Burt's. Burt obliged enthusiastically, and they both took their places by the head table. Kurt sighed in relief, and Anthony grabbed his hand.
"I think Finn is here as well," he muttered in Kurt's ear. Kurt's eyes widened as he turned around and saw his stepbrother, Finn Hudson, and his wife, Quinn Fabray-Hudson (she still didn't want to give up her last name) entered the ballroom. Finn was looking around nervously, pulling at his cover, Quinn nudging his waist gently. "He's brought Quinn as well, I see."
"Don't make such a fuss. Behave," Kurt heard Quinn mutter as the couple approached Anthony and Kurt. Anthony put on a big, obviously fake grin, and shook hands with Finn firmly.
"Hudson," Anthony said through gritted teeth.
"Marksman," Finn said, attempting to be as cheerful as possible. Their grips on each other's hands tightened.
"Finn," Quinn muttered as she and Kurt pulled out of an embrace.
"Well, I suggest we should sit down!" Kurt panicked, mimicking Carole's intervention, his voice getting higher, clapping his hands together with faux enthusiasm. Finn put his arm around his brother as Anthony and Quinn conversed behind them as they walked to the table. More guests filed in; Jamie took over greeting them. Kurt noticed that his brother had lost weight and gained more muscle since the last time they had seen each other – nearly a year.
"Still a major dick, I can see," Finn grumbled. "No offense."
"As I heard Quinn say, Finn, behave," Kurt begged. "He's my fiancé."
"…And I'm your brother. God, Kurt, why are you marrying him?" Finn looked down disgustedly at his brother's engagement ring.
"I'll talk to you later," Kurt mumbled. "Listen, wait until you see who he hired to perform tonight."
"What, who?" Finn glowered, his eyes shifty.
"You'll see," Kurt said, feeling as if his stomach had fallen. "And you'll be surprised."
The four sat down at the head table; people waving and greeting Anthony and Kurt as they entered.
The party had begun.
"Hot damn," Danielle whistled as she and Duke arrived at the front door of the Villard Ballroom. There was a long line already outside the venue, controlled by two lines of security on either side of the door. The guards were attempting to hold back paparazzi that were trying to get a sneak peek at the party happenings. "Insane security, I see. Apt for such an important event—oh lord, is that Jennifer Aniston?"
"I don't think so," Duke rolled his eyes. "Come on, line, hurry up," he muttered impatiently. He saw Jamie Lewis standing by the door in a short, black ensemble, collecting invitations from the guests with a big smile on her face. He immediately adjusted his tie as the line continued to move forward.
It wasn't that he was trying to impress someone.
Well, he was. Duke immediately unlatched Danielle's arm from his and he straightened his body into a ramrod position. Danielle folded her arms and sighed, looking at him in frustration.
"You seem obviously high-strung right now," Danielle asked, suspicious as she looked for Duke's visual point of interest. "Cool your jets, Duke."
After a few more people entered, it was time for Danielle and Duke to turn over their invitations.
"Duke Whitley," Jamie said smoothly, folding her arms and shaking her head. "Nice of you to come without looking as if you're sneaking around."
Duke smiled goofily. "Jamie Lewis. Nice to see you…yeah, nice to see you."
"Hello, ma'am," Jamie said, gesturing towards Danielle (who shot her a simpering, uninterested expression). "Name, please?"
Dear God, Duke looks like an idiot, Danielle thought irritably. She immediately pulled her invitation out of her purse and flashed it in Jamie Lewis' face proudly. "I'm Danielle Anderson. I'm Blaine Anderson's younger sister. I was invited? Here, take my invitation," she added, flicking her invitation at Jamie, who caught it reluctantly, frowning.
"And Mr. Whitely here," Danielle added with a smile, "Is my escort and Blaine's manager, if you didn't know already."
"Manager, I knew he was, escort, I did not," Jamie said, looking surprised. Duke cleared his throat and shot Danielle a warning glance.
"I'm just watching her for her brother. A simple favor," he tried to say smoothly. "Young lady tends to get in trouble quite a bit."
"I do not, you di—"
"—Alright, then," Jamie said, cracking a smile. "So I guess I'll see you guys inside later? You two will be seated at the table next to Mr. Hummel's. I'll get Blaine to go and sit down as well."
"Definitely," Duke nodded. "Alright."
"Where's Blaine going to sit?" Danielle interjected.
"At Mr. Marksman's request, at the head table."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Danielle whispered to Duke, who ignored her quickly, but his face read worry as well. He managed to tell Jamie a 'see you later' (to Danielle's chagrin), and the pair entered the venue quickly.
There were probably over fifty people in the ballroom, either socializing or sitting at tables, drinking as they waited for dinner to begin. Duke and Danielle took their seats near the head table and Danielle looking at it curiously.
"Kurt obviously looks great still," she nodded towards the host. Duke looked indifferent.
"I don't care," he began, "I'm beginning to worry about your Bee."
"What happened?" Danielle asked, panicking, looking around for him.
"Nothing too drastic…yet," Duke mumbled. "He looked absolutely distraught when I went back to talk to him. Kurt seemed like he just left the backstage area when I started talking to Blaine. It was terrible."
Danielle gave him an understanding look and calmed down. "My melodramatic brother. I'll just text him when he gets to the table. He never denies my texts."
"Don't be so sure of that," Duke said drily, gesturing towards the stage, where Blaine was walking with Jamie Lewis.
He looked absolutely fine, and several people stopped him to say hello. Danielle quickly left the table.
"Dan!" Duke shouted as she went through the sea of people, and ended up at the head table.
"Who is the young lady in the blue dress?" Anthony asked Kurt quietly, pointing towards Danielle. "There, the girl in the blue dress, red heels, and curls."
Kurt cleared his throat and sat up in his seat. "Oh, that's, well, um, Blaine's younger sister, Danielle Anderson. I invited her."
"I see," Anthony said, suspicious. Finn gave Kurt an incredulous look.
Kurt said drily, "Do you have a problem with who I've invited?"
"Of course not, babe."
Kurt saw Finn cringe out of the corner of his eye. Keeping a mental note to kick his brother squarely in his crotch after the party, Kurt smiled sweetly. You are so obvious, Finn. Why do you have to be so damn obvious? He quickly lightened up when someone ended up tapping him on the shoulder. Turning around in his chair, he saw Danielle, the object of their conversation, standing right behind him, a bright smile on her face. Kurt jumped out of his chair and gave her a big hug.
"Danielle Marie Anderson! You look absolutely gorgeous! Thank you so much for coming," he said enthusiastically. Danielle hugged back and held Kurt by his shoulders.
"I was a bit surprised when you invited me," she said amusedly. Kurt noticed she was looking at something out of the corner of her eye. He turned around and his stomach dropped as Jamie was nearing the head table with Blaine. He turned right back around to face Danielle, who looked equally nervous.
"Well, you're always welcome, Dani," Kurt said, his voice getting slightly higher. He turned to face Anthony whose eyebrows were raised in expectation. Clearing his throat, Kurt turned him and Danielle around to face him. Finn, Quinn, Marnie Cervico (the editor-in-chief of Vogue), and his parents were staring at the situation in front of them mutely, which made him even more uncomfortable. "Annie, this is Danielle. Danielle, meet Anthony, my fiancé."
"Nice to meet you," Danielle said politely, shaking his hand (Kurt noticed she did quite roughly) and letting go quickly. Well, I did date her brother…
"Dani," another voice exclaimed. Everyone at the head table turned around to see Duke, who looked absolutely irate and short of breath. He immediately straightened up when he saw Kurt and Anthony. "Hello again, Kurt! You must be Anthony," he said in a patronizing tone, shaking their hands quickly. "Congratulations and whatnot!"
"Danielle Anderson," Duke hissed, grabbing her wrist and thus pulling her away from the confused people at the head table. "What on earth are you doing? Are you trying to embarrass your brother?"
"I'm guessing that I can make things more comfortable for Bee if I'm there with him," she muttered. She hurried back to the table, and Blaine was about there. Bingo, she thought.
"Kurt, Anthony, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, Mr. and Mrs. Hudson, and Mrs. Cervico," Jamie announced, "This is Mr. Blaine Anderson," she said, gesturing Blaine to come forward. Blaine, beaming (Kurt knew that was all a lie), stepped forward and shook hands with everyone at the table. It seemed that his handshake with Anthony was quite tentative too, because as they gripped, he let go immediately. He didn't even make eye contact with Kurt.
"Good evening, everyone," Blaine said happily, polite as ever.
"Thank you for coming, I'm such a huge fan," Anthony said enthusiastically, gesturing towards an empty seat next to him. Blaine nodded and walked over to the chair, giving Danielle and Duke split-second glares before sitting.
"Oh, I was just talking to Dani here," Kurt said loudly, pulling Danielle back towards the table. "She looks gorgeous, doesn't she?"
Everyone at the table nodded in approval. Danielle blinked and gave Kurt a quick hug. "Why, um, thank you! I guess…um…I'll just head back to my table now. Bye, Bee," she said quickly, and waved to everyone at the table, grabbing Duke by the hand. Jamie's eyes narrowed as she saw them hurry to their table.
"So much for 'making things comfortable for Bee,'" Duke snorted as they sat down. Danielle threw her bag down and leaned back in her chair in a very un-ladylike fashion.
"I panicked. Blaine looked like he could handle it, but then I knew…then…I don't know what the fuck I was thinking," she muttered, slamming her fist down on the table gently. "Oh, and I think that Jamie chick totally has the hots for you. I'm serious. It's kind-of annoying."
"I just met her earlier, Dan," he mumbled, playing with his napkin. "Stop making assumptions."
"Oh, I know what it looks like when someone likes another," she said loudly. Duke held a hand up to her mouth and she looked at him threateningly, and he let go. "Whatever. I am not dealing with your shit," she pouted, moving two seats down the table from him. Duke gave her a skeptical look, rolled his eyes, and turned his back to her, arms folded.
PMS-y bitch.
Blaine gave Carole and Burt warm hugs, which made Anthony slightly antsy. Like before, Finn and Blaine gave each other their used-to-be-normal fist-pumps and Quinn greeted him enthusiastically. He was irritated. He was Kurt's fiancé, not Blaine Anderson. He was beginning to regret hiring Blaine, but he thought if he had Blaine perform, he would show Kurt that he, Anthony, was clearly the better man. He was torn out of his thoughts when he heard Blaine and Burt start conversing about football (the one sport he, Anthony, clearly detested).
"…OSU Buckeyes, for sure, for college football. I'm still following them of course. My dad got me the latest iPad for my birthday last year, so I downloaded live-streaming apps to watch the games," Blaine said excitedly. "And Finn, man, you did awesome this past season. I'm loving the New England Patriots."
"Aw, thanks, dude," Finn laughed, punching Blaine on the shoulder happily.
Kurt could see that Anthony was beginning to get irritated, and despite how much he wanted to interrupt his father, Finn, and Blaine's conversation, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
"So, what do you do, Anthony? I hear you're a painter," Blaine said stiffly, sipping at his wine. Anthony did likewise and put down his glass with a slight force.
"I own a large gallery on the Upper East Side, and a smaller one in SoHo. You may have heard of them," Anthony responded with difficulty. "I would ask you the same thing, but you're quite a legend in the LGBT community, Mr. Grammy Award Winner."
"I find that a kind compliment," Blaine responded, holding up his wine glass. "Why, everyone, why don't we give a nice toast to Kurt and Anthony?"
"Yeah," Finn said quickly, adjusting his posture. Everyone held up his or her glasses, and Kurt did so as well, awkwardly.
Blaine cleared his throat (and Kurt was sure that what he said was laced with enough drunkenness [he questioned whether Blaine was drunk already; he had such low tolerance] and spite to create ten thousand anger-fueled fashion lines – he was lucky no one else noticed) "To Kurt and Anthony – have a wonderful life together."
"Cheers," Anthony said, his tone becoming more prideful. He sipped his wine eagerly, his eyes narrowed at Blaine.
Dear god, the testosterone at this table is getting on my nerves, Kurt thought angrily.
"Thank you, Blaine," he said quickly and nervously. "Now, have you all heard about my new line? It's going to be released this fall, and I'm incredibly excited!"
Dinner came and went (uneasily), and the hotel management, on Kurt's earlier orders, moved all the tables to the side, to the surprise of the guests. The bar in the back opened, and loud music began blasting from the speakers, and the guests quickly scattered to the dance floor. Blaine quickly excused himself (politely, of course, to Anthony's immense chagrin) from the table, and hurried backstage with Jamie. Anthony finally relaxed when Blaine left, but the rest of the table felt awkward and unsociable without Blaine sitting there. Upon realizing this, Kurt saw Anthony tap his foot impatiently.
"Your parents didn't come," Kurt said sadly, quickly leaning his head on Anthony's shoulder.
"I knew they wouldn't," he muttered to himself. "What about your high school friends?"
"I know some of them are going to be late…" Kurt began, but his voice trailed off as more and more of his guests began to crowd around them and congratulate them.
Blaine was pleased with how well he managed to behave throughout the entire dinner. Sure, Anthony was shooting daggers at him with his eyes, and Kurt looked incredibly uncomfortable, but he felt better catching up with Burt, Carole, Finn, Quinn, and getting to know the other guests at the table. Jamie, Kurt's assistant, was now taking him backstage (along with a guard) so that he would get ready to perform.
"Here you go, Mr. Anderson," Jamie said politely, pushing aside the small curtain to the backstage area. Blaine smiled sweetly at her and said a quick 'thank you,' and collapsed on the couch, his arm over his eyes, Junie looking at him amusedly.
"How did it go, tiger?"
"I managed not to get drunk," Blaine said simply, reaching for his fedora blindly. Junie rolled her eyes and handed it to him, and he put it over his face. "It was incredibly strange to see Kurt act so awkward. To be honest and whatnot, I thought it was somewhat funny…and, well, um, cute."
"How un-dapper, Mr. Dapper. Second time tonight as well," Junie snorted, "I advise you to get ready, because according to my watch and the schedule Kurt drew up for this shindig, you're performing in approximately ten minutes. Got any idea for your opening?"
"I'll just go smoothly, and end with a bang," Blaine nodded, waving his hand dismissively. After meeting Kurt's fiancé, he felt incredibly jealous and angry and other feelings he couldn't comprehend.
It was show time.
"Kurt!" Rachel Berry exclaimed, running towards him in a dark-red, sweetheart-cut dress. Kurt gasped and threw his arms wide open. Rachel crashed into them and pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh my God, I booked the earliest flight. It took forever, and I was sure the pilot was going to make us crash. I hate turbulence and one day I fear it's going to knock me out of my seat."
"I'm just so glad you made it!" Kurt said enthusiastically. Rachel looked around the ballroom.
"There are so many people here," she nodded, impressed. "Naturally, I've received more visitors for parties such as these, and for showings of Evita."
"Humble as always, aren't you?" Kurt smirked. Having his old friend next to him made him feel slightly better about the fiasco he was sure to happen later on when Blaine would start singing. "I'd like to say that I've had more people watch my shit go across catwalks at Paris Fashion Week rehearsals."
"Kurt, dear, keep dreaming," Rachel grinned. She hugged him tightly, and people began to notice and point her out. She was famous in the New York theatre community, performing first in a later run of Catch Me If You Can before moving to London to star in Evita. "Well…congratulations. Where's your fiancé?" she asked, looking around. Kurt pointed towards Anthony, who was talking to some of his friends from the art community. "Average height, his hair is dyed, but he seems very chiseled. I remember back in high school you were more for the…well, shorter, vaguely Eurasian men…"
"And so were you, for a brief, intoxicated period of time. Speaking of Eurasian men…" Kurt muttered as he heard the soft strumming of a guitar backstage. Rachel rose a speculative eyebrow as Anthony walked over and greeted her.
"Nice to meet you," she said happily, shaking his hand. At least she's a good actress, Kurt thought amusedly. "I'm Rachel Berry, West End and Broadway star."
"I know, Kurt told me all about you," Anthony said politely. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to announce Blaine." He quickly kissed Kurt on the cheek and hurried to run up to the stage.
"He's, well, um, nice," Rachel cleared her throat. "Well, if you excuse me, I'm going to say hello to Finn and Quinn."
Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. He would call Rachel later, or talk to her after the party if she were still sober. He watched as Anthony stepped on stage and tapped the microphone, immediately getting the attention of everyone in the room. The noise became a dull buzz.
"Good evening, everyone. I would like to thank you all for coming to Kurt and me's party. It means so much to us," he said happily to applause. "We're planning on getting married in about two months. I would like to say: I love you, Kurt. These past two years with you have been amazing, and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
Kurt blushed quickly, straightening his position as a spotlight went on him. Usually, he would bathe in the spotlight, but this time, he pursed his lips into a smile and balanced on the balls of his feet, making a simple heart-shaped sign with his hands. Anthony cleared his throat then the audience's attention and the spotlight re-focused on him.
He continued, "Now, everyone, I'd like to thank an old…um, friend of Kurt's, for performing tonight. He's been a trooper. Everyone, let's say hi to our favorite Grammy winner, Blaine Anderson!"
He's been a trooper.
The entire room erupted into applause. Blaine stepped on stage with his guitar, and Kurt felt his heart leap when he saw the shorter man in his fedora, carrying his coat with his other hand. The fedora. A favorite accessory of Blaine's. Kurt remembered the first time Blaine showed him his hat collection, before they left for UCLA seven years ago.
"It's so surreal, huh? We're leaving for college in two days," Kurt said idly, helping Blaine fold his bed sheets and putting them in a nearby box labeled 'bedroom'. Blaine looked up from the stack of CDs he was sorting out and grinned.
"We're leaving for college," he said in a singsong voice, sorting them out in alphabetical order in a box labeled 'music'.
"Where do you want me to put this box?" Kurt asked, picking up the 'bedroom' box. Blaine shrugged.
"Just put it in the closet, babe."
"Alright," Kurt smiled brightly. He walked over to Blaine's large, mahogany closets and opened them, revealing several pairs of skinny jeans and cardigans. "Don't you have anything else?" he smirked, putting the box down by another one that was unlabeled.
"That's the fiftieth time you've asked me that, Kurt," Blaine laughed, standing up and walking to his boyfriend, putting his arms around his waist. "I don't look good in anything else, and since I wore my Dalton blazer and slacks for the past three years, I didn't feel like I had to buy anything else."
"You look good in everything; what are you talking about?" Kurt said defiantly. "Wait, what's in that box?" he asked, pointing towards the unlabeled one. Blaine jumped away from Kurt and blocked his view, waving his hands in a dismissing motion.
"Nothing, just old stuff," he said quickly. Kurt pursed his lips together and looked over Blaine's shoulder at the box. Before Blaine could do anything, Kurt sidestepped him and opened the box, revealing a multitude of fedoras and other assorted hats.
"Do you have a hat fetish, Blaine?" Kurt laughed loudly, falling over. Blaine blushed and folded his arms.
"A fetish? I think not," he said gruffly, turning away from his boyfriend, embarrassed. Kurt sat up and looked at Blaine amusedly.
"I think it's cute," he said innocently, resting his chin on the palms of his hands; his elbows on his knees. "Since when have you collected hats?"
"Middle school until my freshman year. I stopped when I went to Dalton because I had nowhere to put them in my dorm room…so I left them here," Blaine said matter-of-factly, still facing away from Kurt, who began to rummage through the box.
"Fedoras? Really, babe, fedoras? Were you trying to be some sort of Eurasian Indiana Jones?"
"Yeah, he was!" a fourteen year-old Danielle shouted from outside the room. Blaine turned around and groaned in protest. "A freakin' hilarious Indiana Jones, Kurt! You should see our home videos!"
Kurt shook off the memory as Blaine began to strum his guitar gently, and all he could see were Blaine's lips moving, and he couldn't seem to hear a thing he was saying. Again, he felt that same heart-fluttering feeling he felt on the night of his ex-boyfriend's concert. Anthony found his way back to Kurt and put his arm over him as Blaine began to sing 'I Must Be Dreaming' again. Everyone swayed to the beat, or slow-danced with their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, or wives. Kurt sighed and found himself dancing with Anthony, who was giving him a questioning look.
"Relax, babe, he's far away," Anthony mumbled into Kurt's ear, attempting to soothe him. Kurt looked up at Anthony and bit his bottom lip. "Really, what's wrong?"
"I don't think now is the time to talk about it," Kurt murmured, looking around at the happy crowd – he saw Rachel dancing with his co-star (who played Fiyero) from Wicked, and Finn and Quinn nearby. "Let's just dance, shall we?" he said off-handedly, holding onto Anthony tightly.
"This is a perfect time to talk about whatever the heck is going on," Anthony muttered back defiantly. "I honestly do have a right to know, Kurt."
"You'll know," Kurt responded hesitantly. "You'll know."
The pair kept on dancing, and applause rang throughout the room as Blaine finished his first song. Kurt applauded politely and looked up at Blaine, whose hazel eyes were boring right into his. Snapping out of it, Kurt cleared his throat and pretended to talk to other people around him, his hand gripping Anthony's tightly.
"Aren't you going to ask me to dance?" Danielle asked, turning around to face Duke. The pair hadn't talked throughout the entire dinner, to Duke's annoyance.
"You didn't even talk to me when we were eating parfaits, and now you want to dance with me?" he asked, frowning deeply. "I thought you were trying to prove a point."
Duke honestly did not understand why Danielle was acting so 'PMS-like' (in his own words). First she had mentioned something about Jamie, and now she was just acting plain weird. Maybe, he thought, maybe this is revenge for breaking her nose. Yeah, that's it. "So, um, do you want to dance?" he asked, standing up and holding a hand out to her. She looked at him angrily and turned away. Frustrated, Duke walked away from the table as Blaine began his second song, a more lively and pop-sounding one, and saw Jamie standing in a corner, talking to her friends. He prepped himself and hurried over.
"Oh, hi," she laughed, holding her glass of wine. "I was wondering when you were coming around."
"Well, I think Danielle can take care of herself," Duke smiled, holding out a hand. "Would you like to dance?"
"Of course," she said, and took his hand.
Danielle looked over at them, and rolling her eyes, she stood up and walked straight towards the bar.
As always, Blaine was in his element while performing. He put aside his guitar and belted out one of his most popular and latest covers, a cover of The Black Kids' 'I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You,' which he hoped would spark something in Kurt's memory bank. He saw Kurt and Anthony dancing and talking to other people, and he wanted to make sure that the song he wanted to perform was performed at the right time and with the proper set list balance.
Word's on the street and it's on the news,
I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you
He's got two left feet, and it bites my moves,
I'm not gonna teach him how to dance, dance, dance, dance
Kurt shifted uncomfortably next to Anthony as the song went on. Back in high school, he couldn't relate to it.
But now he could, and it was giving him a headache.
The second I do, I know we're gonna be through
I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you
Dani arrived at the bar, and sat on one of the stools grumpily. The bartender gave her a sympathetic look and handed her a shot of tequila sunrise.
"On the house, ma'am."
"Really?" she asked, holding it up.
"If you're twenty-one, I assume, since everyone here is technically over legal age."
She stared at it tentatively. "Yeah, yeah, of course," she said quickly.
…And she gulped it down. Looking around to make sure no one noticed, she held up a hand and asked for another one.
Hey, this actually tastes good.
Blaine finished the song with one of his famous knee-slides to the cheers of everyone in the room. He stood up immediately, dusting his slacks off. Taking a swig of water from his bottle, he continued to sing.
Five songs and a thousand conversations later, Kurt found himself next to Finn and Quinn, and Anthony was on the other side of the room, talking to more of his friends, as usual.
"Didn't Blaine sing that Boyfriend song at junior prom?" Quinn asked humorously, laughing. Finn nodded and gave his 'gassy-infant look' (as defined by Santana Lopez back in high school). "That was when you and Jesse St. Sucks were fighting over Rachel. Where is Rachel, by the way?"
"She's probably around here somewhere," Kurt said, tip-toeing to see over the crowd. "I saw her with one of my co-stars about thirty minutes ago."
"Are you alright, bro? You look winded-up," Finn asked seriously. Kurt looked to his brother and sister-in-law guiltily.
"He's so brilliant," he said, gesturing towards the stage, where Blaine was singing.
"You're marrying Anthony, though," Finn grumbled. Quinn punched him lightly on the shoulder.
"Shut up," she hissed. "Sorry, Kurt, he's been acting like this all evening…"
"With good reason," Kurt muttered.
"You still like Blaine," Finn accused, giving him a speculative look. "I can see it in your eyes."
"No, I don't," Kurt said hurriedly, and then he left them to find Anthony.
"Good evening, everyone," Blaine said into the microphone, smiling impeccably at his audience. Everyone clapped and cheered even louder, and laughing, Blaine added, "I would, well, like to thank Anthony and Kurt for giving my manager, Duke a call last week to ask me if I could perform tonight. It has, well, for want of a better word, been a pleasure. This last song is dedicated to Kurt, who is, as you all know, a…very old friend of mine.
"I met Kurt back in high school, when he was still getting bullied back at McKinley High School in Lima. He wasn't a very smiley person when I met him. But afterwards, he became one of the…truest friends I've ever had. And I've noticed tonight, despite the…tumultuous occasion, he's been a bit down. So here you go, Kurt."
Blaine scanned the audience, and found Kurt standing next to Anthony again, looking horrified. He put his hands to the keyboard, and signaled his back-up guitarist to begin.
If I were you, and you were me
And everybody thought that life was so easy
Well it ain't like that
And everything you seem to know
And all the things you've thought would help you through
But they just don't measure
Up and down, from side to side
My emotions need a rest
Much more than I do
And you know that I'd do
Almost anything to see a brand new day
And a chance to see you smile again, my love
To see you smile again, my love
"Oh my God, Blaine actually did it," Duke whispered as he and Jamie danced. She pulled away and looked at him with wide eyes, and then looked towards the stage.
"Holy fuck."
Everyone around him was talking. If they weren't talking, they were dancing. But…everyone was talking now. Panicking, Kurt grabbed Anthony by his hands and began dancing with him awkwardly.
"What's this all about?" Anthony exclaimed.
All I wanna do is dance,
All I wanna do is sing,
All I wanna do is close my eyes
And hope that you give in
"Let's dance," Kurt nodded quickly, and he began to 'Vogue,' half-listening to Anthony and half-listening to the lyrics of Blaine's song. Ignoring him, Anthony turned around to face the stage again and realized what was going on.
Blaine was serenading his fiancé.
At his and Kurt's party.
It seems that he had been the entire night, and it was beginning to piss him off.
Infuriated, Anthony stormed away from Kurt and headed towards the stage.
All I wanna do is dance
All I wanna do is sing
All I wanna do is close my eyes
And make you smile again
"Anthony! ANTHONY!" Kurt shouted, making people turn around.
And make you smile again
(A/N: I don't really put author's notes in the middle of stories, but at this moment, I suggest you go to YouTube or any music player you have, and turn on Cobra Starship's "Smile For The Paparazzi." Best tension song ever.)
If I were you, and you were me,
And everybody thought that love was so easy
Well, it ain't like that
And nothing's broke that can't be fixed
If you admit that it won't last that long
'Cause nothing lasts forever
Blaine was still scanning the audience for Kurt, and he saw Anthony running up towards the stage. Grinning, he continued.
Movin' on, I'm holdin' on, but I won't let it go
Just like I'm told to
And you know I'm supposed to
Live it all along my way but I won't let it rest
Until you're mine again, my love
Until you're mine again, my love
Duke and Jamie attempted to push through the crowd, who were attempting to figure out what was going on.
"Gimme another one," Danielle said, her voice slurring as she sat, slumped against the counter. The bartender sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Ma'am, I think you've had enough."
Dani sat up and gave him a look of great apprehension. "I don't give a flying …shit…can I have one mooooooooore?"
When the bartender shook his head, she frowned and stumbled off of the stool, attempting to regain her balance when a taller person bumped into her.
"Dani, what the—what the, are you drunk?" Duke exclaimed, panicking, holding her up by her shoulders. "Danners, you have school tomorrow afternoon, what the fuck did you do?"
"No, fuck school, I'm not d-d-d-drunk…I'm Harry Fucking Potter, Dukey, look an' see," she slurred, holding up a little cocktail umbrella, which was still folded, pointing at him with it. "Now I'm singin' in th…th…the rain," she giggled, now holding it over her head. She pushed it open.
"Oh shit," Duke groaned. Jamie looked at him uneasily. Sighing, he told her, "Sorry, but I've got to take care of both of them. By both of them, I mean Blaine and Danielle. Talk to you later?"
"Buh-lainers? He's there, singin' again, he always sings, like in the shower and stuff," Danielle laughed manaically.
"She is off the charts," Jamie snorted. Duke shrugged.
Jamie nodded and frowned as he turned his back towards her and lifted Dani up, carrying her.
"Dukey, put me down!" she chuckled, kicking her feet in the air, one of her red heels falling off. Jamie picked it up and handed it to Duke, who took it gratefully.
"You're a great dancer, Jamie. I'll see you later," he said.
"Likewise," she said uneasily.
"Dukey, baby," Danielle wailed, throwing her arms over his neck. "I la-a-a-ave you!"
Dear sweet baby Jesus, Duke thought.
He started to head towards the stage, but he was too late. Someone had beat him to it.
And that someone was a very pissed-off Anthony Marksman.
Blaine turned around to face Anthony, who was already on the stage, walking towards the center where he stood.
And make you smile again, my love.
Anthony yanked the microphone stand from Blaine, who let go of the keyboard keys.
The entire room fell silent. Kurt found his way up the stage and tugged at Anthony's wrist.
"Anthony, please, what are you doing?"
"Flirting with my fiancé, are you?" Anthony shouted into the microphone. Blaine tugged the microphone back his way.
"Just singing something for an old friend," he said, and pushed the stand back towards Anthony, who caught it angrily.
"Old friend, my ass. You know he left you, and found me!"
"Stop it!" Kurt screamed. "Both of you, stop it!"
"Well, if you can't see, I think he obviously still loves me."
"Bullshit, Anderson, total bullshit! I'm getting him, and you're obviously not, so stop this fucking shit right now or I'll punch your face in!"
"Just look at him, Marksman, he's miserable."
"Oh my fucking grilled cheesus," Finn exclaimed. He began to run towards the stage, but Quinn and Burt pulled him back.
"Burt, look at what the fuck is going on!" Finn hissed. Carole squeezed his shoulder.
And that was when Anthony punched Blaine squarely in the face.
Blaine blinked, lights dancing in his eyes, and he regained his balance, leaning on the keyboard for support. Several guards ran into the ballroom to see what all of the commotion was all about.
"Is that all you've got?" Blaine said bitterly, spitting on the stage.
"Blaine, please," Kurt choked. "Annie—"
"Don't 'Annie' me, Kurt, don't you dare right now," Anthony said angrily. He turned towards Blaine, who was smiling smugly. "And no, hobbit, that's not all I've got."
Anthony lunged on Blaine, and the two began to fight.
Unfortunately, the guards left the front doors wide open, and a flood of paparazzi entered the Villard Ballroom.
Blaine and Anthony were trying to get at each other's faces. Being beat up throughout middle school and his freshman year prepared him for something like this: the chance to be brave for once, to fight for what he believed was right.
Kurt was trying to pull Anthony off of Blaine, but one stray fist hit Kurt straight in the eye, making him fall over.
The chaos turned into silence. There were cameras clicking somewhere in the audience area.
"Kurt…Kurt…" Anthony whispered. Blaine sat up, sore, and pushed the taller man aside and kneeled down next to Kurt.
"You…you punched me," Kurt said quietly, holding his left eye, tears running down his face. "You fucking punched me!" he shouted at Anthony.
The guards ran on stage and pulled Anthony and Blaine apart. Other guards attempted to usher the paparazzi out forcefully, which they were unsuccessful doing.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Anthony cried, rushing towards Kurt, who merely backed up.
Kurt looked at Blaine. "Why?"
"You obviously know why."
Kurt ran off-stage, and Blaine watched as Finn chased after him, along with a wave of paparazzi snapping photos.
"You see what you do?" Anthony spat, pulling away from the guards. He chased after his fiancé, leaving Blaine on stage with three security guards.
"Buh-layney looks sad," Danielle pouted as they arrived at the front of the stage. Duke put her down and after a second, she managed to balance on her feet.
"Stay right here, Dan. Just stay right here," he said calmly, and ran to the stage to comfort his best friend.
"Blaine," he whispered into his friend's ear. He helped Blaine up and walked him off-stage. After grabbing Danielle by the wrist, he directed the siblings out of the Villard Ballroom.
Author's Note: SHIT, THIS WAS 20 PAGES ON MICROSOFT. I AM PROUD OF MYSELF. loljk. But hhhrrgghhh, I felt like Bee and Kurtsie's argumentconversationthing in the beginning was left unfinished...so hohoho, watch out for later chapters. Sorry for the week without a chapter. Starting next week, there will most likely be a new chapter every Wednesday so I can learn how to update stories properly. I'm still on finals week, and next week, I'm a free bird! SUMMER, Y U NO HERE YET? Ahem. I'll be getting a new Tumblr soon, so keep checking my page for the link this weekend. There, I'll post my "tentative cast" and playlist and shit like that so I can keep you guys updated on my progress as well. I'm so happy - almost 16,000 hits and 300+ alerts and 97+ reviews! Oh my Dumbledore, I love you guys. Thank you so much for all the support! I'm so excited to write the next chapter...
...but alas, I must go and study for my History of Europe & Spanish Ab Initio exams! No me gusta. Har har har.
SONGS USED that I do not own:
If I Were You - Diagram of the Heart
Smile for the Paparazzi - Cobra Starship
OKAY, SELF, GO BACK TO STUDYING NAO.
Reviews would be loverlyyyyyy.
Love,
Sam
PS. I'm planning on making a series of short vignettes about Danielle and Blaine's relationship. Would you guise like to read them?