Blaine convinced Ellie to take the night shift by taking over the rest of her shift once he got back from the store. Ellie was glad to hear about the party, since Blaine had been "so lonely lately" and worn out. However, Blaine neglected to tell her that Jerry was hosting, saying that the party was at Mercedes's place. He knew she still held a small grudge against Jerry and his family for "driving my baby out of school", even though he got hit too.

So what? He needs to talk to Jerry, even if it turns out he wants to run away with Kurt, or wants to date Blaine again, or some other panic-inducing idea.

He should dress to impress; Blaine wanted to look the part of a sophisticated man ready to take on anyone. Unfortunately, dressing for a job interview will be too formal for Jerry's party. He always felt a tiny bit vulnerable when wearing just a t-shirt and jeans; maybe donning the Dalton blazer for prolonged periods shielded him from, well, everything. Sighing, he pulled out one of Kurt's favorite shirts: a deep sky blue V-neck with an abstract sea gull pattern across the front. Shimmying into cuffed jeans and an old graffitied pair of sneakers, he looked very much like any guy going to a get-together at a friend's house.

Blaine didn't feel particularly festive.

The sun was blessedly setting; no longer did the shimmering heat trap people in their poorly air-conditioned homes. As Blaine put the finishing touches on his hair, he heard a car pull into the driveway. That can't be Kurt yet, he thought. He wasn't supposed to come back home for another week or so. He cracked open the window blinds and recognized Adelaide's car. How did my mother get her to come over? Without Hunter or Pierre or whatever his name is? Last time that Addie visited Gramma, she kept rubbing her hands all along What's-his-face's thighs with Gramma sitting across from them. Yet it was Blaine who was gravely chastised after they left.

That certainly settles it; no drinking at Jerry's, or he'd make Addie look clean in comparison.

Blaine crept down the stairs, car keys in hand, when his sister stopped him at the doorway.

"Going out, brother? Mom made me babysit the crone while you 'socially interact with your peer group'. How did you end up with a party invite when your blazer besties are out of town? Oh no," she lowered her voice to a stage whisper, "you're gonna go get laid!"

Blaine colored at the accusation. He protested, "No, no, I got invited yesterday by an old friend. Trust me; the last thing I want to do at the party is 'get laid'."

"Well, good luck with that, Blaine. I hope you make 'valuable connections' at this 'party'," she smirked, resembling a picture of Blaine's father.

He hurried off, reminding himself that Addie was only joking to rile him up. What poor form it would be to not only cheat on Kurt, but simultaneously destroy any chance of a recovered relationship between him and Jerry. The goal of the party is to gain closure of the past, not complicate the already murky future.

Jerry opened the door and greeted his first party guest. "Hey Artie! Bro, what's up?" They did a slapping high five as Jerry ushered Artie into the house.

"Oh, you know, just keeping it real, doin' what I do. We havin' a rager?"

Jerry snorted. "Dude, it's only the band. We'll be lucky if anyone passes out from my mom's vodka stash."

"Cool, man. You set up Rock Band? I'm playing lead guitar before Ben takes over." Artie rolled into the living room where the game controllers were set up.

"Whatever. You want some chips? Or want to get the party started early?" Jerry grabbed a bottle of vodka, clearing his throat nervously. More guests knocked on the door before he could do something stupid.

Thudding bass from a stereo rumbled throughout the house. Various members of the McKinley band and A/V club danced in the dining room, sliding up on each other with abandon. One of the dancing girls flipped her hair in a head banging motion. Her dance partner, squeezing a cup of punch in one hand, almost fell on top of her from surprise. Other girls wiggled their hips sensually, putting a show on for the wallflower boys.

"Those flautists really know how to shake it!" Pete shouted to Jerry while ogling the girls' gyrations.

"Yeah, man." A frizzy haired figure schlepped between the boys. "Excuse me. Who invited you, nosy perv?" He paused to squint at the bassist and host.

"You're just the man I wanted to see, runaway. I heard that you dropped out of McKinley to avoid a mob hit. Where are the drug mules you're harboring from the mob boss?"

"Jacob, get out of my house. Now."

Jacob sputtered in protest, but Pete and Jerry had dragged him to the front door, past the clutch of Rock Band players. The door swung open, with Blaine on the threshold.

"Don't come back, ben Israel," Jerry growled as he pushed the spy out. Blaine brushed by ben Israel, recalling that the bespectacled boy had spread all those rumors about the glee kids.

Jerry's facial expression softened at the sight of Blaine. "Blaine, ya made it, man! Thanks for coming. What's this?" Blaine handed over the gift to Jerry, which Pete snatched up. "You brought me coffee?"

"It'll help you sober up later, for when you need to clean." Blaine looked around the room, avoiding Jerry's gaze.

"Wow, that's really cool, man. Thanks." Jerry grinned. "So y'wanna play Rock Band? Pete?"

"Sure. But we're doing all Beatles. If I hear 'Freebird' one more time…" Pete said.

Blaine laughed. "I'm in."

Artie and Ben, the two lead guitarists in band, periodically switched out on the guitar control with a lot of grumbling. Luke, a percussionist, had played keytar all night; he eventually ceded control over to Blaine. Naturally, Pete took the bass guitar, and Jerry whacked on the drum kit.

"Shake it up, baby! Twist and shout!" Luke slurred into the microphone.

Artie snickered into his sleeve. "You sound like a straight-up fool. Me or Blaine should sing next."

"No, you get to sing all the time in glee club while I get kicked off the kit when Finn decides to play! It's my turn now!" The other players argued with each other.

Jerry waved to Blaine. "Let's go talk, unless y'wanna dance?"

"Fine. Where?"

"Upstairs. It's quieter." Jerry led Blaine past the makeshift dance floor, through the kitchen/bar to the staircase.

"We're only going to talk, right?"

"Pssh, you know it," Jerry guffawed.

Blaine glanced uneasily up to Jerry and sighed. They might as well hash it out where there are no eavesdroppers, he admitted to himself.