Author's Note: Oh my goodness… I'm terrible. My inspiration level has been nonexistent recently, which basically means painfully boring writing or none at all. I hope you can forgive me for the long wait?

Anyway, I've FINALLY got this nice long chapter ready for you all… right in time to celebrate the return of Glee! Hope everyone enjoyed the first episode as much as I did? I was rather embarrassingly fangirly. But seriously, OUR BOYS ARE BACK AT LAST! We get to see them EVERY week now! My little Klainer heart can't handle it. ;)

As always, reviews would be very much appreciated. A billion times thank you to those of you who have left comments already! This next chapter focuses a little more on Kurt and Blaine, their pasts, and things to come. I'm also trying to weave in Blaine's POV now (without making it arbitrary) so hopefully it works.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the show Glee. Song credits in this chapter go to Jodi Benson: "Part of Your World."

~Chapter 6: The Theatre on Hill Street~

It all felt like a dream. Kurt was almost positive that the dance had never really happened, and yet, here he was, basking in the memory of Blaine's kiss and cringing at the thought of Karofsky's. All of a sudden, everything had changed.

The Friday morning drive to Dalton Reform had given Kurt's stomach a chance to tie itself in knots. He had tried not to think too hard about all that had happened, but his nerves were already taking hold. His lack of experience surely was not about to help him handle the situation, and he wasn't really sure what Blaine would do next. Would he be the same guy he'd been last night? Or would he just go back to being Rockstar Boy, like nothing had ever happened?

Kurt was walking to the doors, lost in thought, when something caught his eye. He turned, and there was Blaine, standing a few yards away, looking confidently rebellious beside an honest-to-goodness motorcycle. Kurt rolled his eyes and started to walk over. He should have guessed.

"Morning, Pretty Boy." Blaine smirked, his eyes betraying nothing. Ah, so that's how things were going to be, then.

Kurt smiled wryly. It took everything in his power to remain nonchalant; inside, his whole being felt ablaze with anxiety, questions, and an odd sense of longing. "Same to you," he answered, glancing down to the motorcycle. "Yours?"

Blaine sighed regretfully. "Sadly, no," he said. "My friend bought it a few months ago. He offered to let me take it out today." He smiled, eyes sparkling mischievously as he reached for the black helmet on the seat and offered it to Kurt. "So, are you coming?"

Instantly, Kurt's eyebrows shot up. "You have school," he pointed-out. "And I have my tutoring job."

"So?"

Kurt gave him a look. Now that he had become more aware of Blaine's past, it was difficult to comprehend why he kept up the badboy façade when no one else was around. Like it or not, the truth was out there in the open now, free for the taking. The two of them had danced, shared important secrets, and kissed, all in the course of one night. Kurt, for one, was not about to give all of that up so easily.

He met Blaine's eyes, trying his best to look sincere. "You don't need to pretend like this in front of me, you know," he said.

Blaine's eyes softened for a second before he laughed. "Oh, I'm serious," he clarified. "I'm taking this opportunity while it's still around. I'd hate to go alone, though…"

"Blaine! We can't. Besides, there is no way that you're going to get me on that deathtrap."

With a smirk, Blaine stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Kurt met his hopeful gaze and swallowed hard. He wasn't one to be persuaded easily, and yet…

Damn those eyes. This might be difficult.

"No," Kurt declared firmly, as Blaine offered the helmet again. "I'm not about to let you get into trouble, anyway."

Blaine just shrugged. "I'm going whether or not you decide to join me," he answered, turning around and moving to sit astride the motorcycle. He glanced over his shoulder to throw Kurt a teasing grin. "You can hold onto me as tight as you want, you know, if you're scared."

Involuntarily, Kurt's gaze moved to trace over Blaine's body, lingering along the curves of his waist and the muscles in his arms. This was definitely not fair.

Grumbling under his breath, Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and stared Blaine down. "If you kill me out there, I will murder you."

"Sounds logical to me. You've got yourself a deal, Pretty Boy."

Kurt made a face at the ironic tone of Blaine's voice and eyed the helmet skeptically. "This is seriously going to mess up my hair," he protested.

Blaine snorted out a laugh. "I will refrain from making any gay jokes if you actually wear it."

Ugh. Why was it that Kurt bothered to put up with this guy? He was still a class-A jerk… when he wasn't being incredibly kind. And then there was that stupid nickname…

Kurt sighed and pulled the helmet over his head. He didn't really like it, but the fact that Blaine didn't have one of his own made him feel even worse. Apparently, he would just have to trust that the boy could handle a motorcycle well enough not to need safety gear. "I'm going to hate you for this forever," Kurt grumbled.

Blaine chuckled, turning to look over his shoulder again as Kurt straddled the seat behind him. "No you won't," he answered self-assuredly, and smiled. "Tell you what, Pretty Boy. We can go anywhere you want. Your pick."

Kurt hesitated, biting his lip and searching the mystifying, hazel eyes that stared back at him. He could only hope that, sooner or later, Blaine would become easier to read. "Look," he started reasonably. "I'll do this, but only if you promise me that it's safe and we won't die or something. And, also, I like being called 'pretty' as much as the next guy, but I do have a name, you know, and I'd appreciate it if you used it every now and then."

Looking rather amused, Blaine paused for a moment. "Okay," he agreed with a nod. "I promise I won't let anything happen, Kurt. Just consider me your chauffer for the day."

In spite of himself, Kurt smiled. It was nice to be listened to sometimes. "Okay," he echoed. "Let's go."

Blaine turned and the bike roared to life abruptly. In surprise, Kurt jumped and leaned forward, instinctively wrapping his arms in a loose grip around Blaine's waist for support. He knew that they had technically already broken a barrier as far as touch and closeness should be concerned, but it also felt like caution was a good idea. Kurt certainly didn't want to rush things, even if that meant taking a few steps back.

"Where to, sir?" Blaine asked in a mock-businesslike voice.

Kurt couldn't help but play back. "To the stars," he quipped automatically, before mentally kicking himself for making a Titanic reference. Grilled Cheesus only knew what Blaine would say to that.

Sure enough, Blaine was quick to shoot him an astonished glance. "Are you trying to seduce me, Kurt?" he inquired, almost too pleasantly.

Kurt rolled his eyes, smiling through the blush that had started to spread across his cheeks. "Is it working?" he teased back.

Blaine just grinned in return and looked away. "Hang on," he said, and suddenly they were flying through the parking lot and into the street.

Kurt let out a panicky squeak at the sudden burst of speed, the way the ground seemed to be visibly yanked out from underneath them as they moved. By the time they had reached the first stop sign, Kurt found his arms locked in a death grip around Blaine's middle.

"You okay?" Blaine wondered with a chuckle, glancing partway over his shoulder to see Kurt huddled closely against him.

"No, Blaine, I am not okay. We're going to go too fast, hit an eighteen-wheeler and die. And then I'll be buried with helmet-hair."

Laughing, Blaine took off again. Kurt let out another shrill noise of some sort and buried his face into Blaine's shoulder. At least this way he could avoid watching the world zip past… not to mention the fact that the t-shirt fabric he had his nose pressed into was extremely soft and smelled incredible.

"I think I could get used to this," Blaine commented as Kurt nuzzled the slightest bit closer.

"Don't push it," Kurt retorted, in spite of the smile tugging at his lips and the fact that he now had his cheek rested all-too-comfortably against Blaine's back. He didn't really know why he felt so affectionate all of a sudden; after all, Blaine was still a mystery guy with an unpredictable attitude. Plus, skipping out on their respective duties at Dalton in favor of a motorcycle ride wasn't exactly an honorable plan. Maybe Blaine really was a bad influence.

As memories of the night before flooded Kurt's mind, he clamped his eyes shut firmly. Blaine had a lot more to his story than a reform school transcript. He was an extraordinarily talented singer with a gentle and sensitive personality and a difficult past. Kurt had to remember that. He had to remember why it was Blaine with whom he had shared that first real kiss.

"Hey, Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

Kurt chewed his lip hesitantly. Was he really ready to let his guard down like this in front of a guy he had only met a week ago? In front of anyone? This was the sort of secret that, if revealed, would surely either make or break any relationship. And there was no predicting how Blaine would react. Kurt would just have to trust his gut instinct. "Do you know how to get to Hill Street? It's across town, near Lima?"

Blaine paused for a moment, thinking, and then nodded. "I think I know where it is, yeah," he replied. "Why do you want to go there?""

"I want to show you something," Kurt explained. "I'll tell you more when we get there."

"Alright." Blaine nodded again. "Sounds good."

After a while of weaving through streets and speeding around corners, Kurt settled slightly and was surprised to find himself enjoying the feel of wind hitting his face and adrenaline pulsing in his veins. The steady anchor that was Blaine's waist wrapped in his arms helped, as well.

"Here," Kurt said when they reached the small building tucked along the side of the road. Blaine parked the motorcycle along the curb and followed Kurt's gaze to the place he had just indicated. It wasn't the type of building that anyone would notice unless they were looking for it; the old, wooden structure seemed to be hiding itself behind the trees and slightly overgrown lawn. Upon closer inspection, a worn sign above the door could be found, the words Hill Street Theatre engraved in swirling letters.

Blaine looked at Kurt, head tilted in confusion as they stood from the bike. Ignoring him, Kurt pulled the helmet from his head and sighed, attempting to reset the style of his hair with his fingers. It felt like a bit of a useless attempt.

"Where are we?" Blaine asked finally.

Kurt paused, dropping his hands slowly back to his sides. He didn't know how to explain; showing seemed like a much better option, even if it was a bit awkward. At least Blaine looked more intrigued than bored.

"Come with me."

Kurt walked to the door, reached into his bag, and produced a set of keys. One of them seemed oddly out of place, a skeleton key with an ornately carved bow. It slid easily into the lock and opened the door with a squeak. Blaine followed Kurt inside, taking in the smell of dust and the dim sunlight streaming through the windows. The interior housed about a dozen wooden benches, all lined up to face the modest stage at the opposite end. Everything was silent, aside from the floorboards that creaked as Kurt strode across the room.

"I used to come here every weekend with my mom," he explained, running his fingertips along the heavy, wine-red stage curtains affectionately. "She liked to help out with community theatre projects. Musicals were her specialty." He turned back to Blaine, smiling distantly. "I learned almost everything I know from her."

Blaine couldn't quite understand where Kurt was going with this story. The theatre looked like it hadn't been used in ages, and the way he spoke seemed far too wistful not to hold a deeper explanation. It seemed wrong to speak, however; Blaine could feel the silence muffling every sound. He felt separated, held away from his surroundings as though he were on the opposite side of a movie screen. Clearly, the place in which he now stood was very special.

Kurt bit his lip and turned to indicate a large, framed photograph on the wall. "That's her," he stated softly.

Blaine moved closer to get a better look. The woman in the photo looked shockingly like Kurt, with wise, blue eyes staring out behind long lashes and smooth skin flushed faintly pink in all the right places. Deep-brown hair fell in long waves down her back and over a delicate-looking green shirt. Blaine stared for a long moment, his eyes lingering on the simple, silver chain holding a ring around her neck, and then landing on the words below the photo. He swallowed hard.

In loving memory of Elizabeth Rosanne Hummel.

"She died when I was eight."

"I'm sorry."

Kurt looked up as Blaine approached and sat down beside him on the edge of the stage. His eyes were sincere and sympathetic. "This place helps you remember her," Blaine stated. It wasn't a question. Kurt nodded anyway.

"She was really beautiful," Blaine added gently. He tilted his head, eyes searching. "You look like her."

With a sad smile, Kurt dropped his gaze. "Thank you," he said simply. "I miss her. This place… it's the best thing I have left, really. The owners gave me a key and basically let me take over the property once things settled down. My mom was the only one keeping it up and running, though, so it's perpetually empty nowadays."

Blaine nodded slowly, and Kurt blinked down at the floor. He hadn't expected this to be so hard, and already, he felt at a loss for words. He could recall a million little details about his mother, and yet could not bring himself to speak any of them aloud. A single tear fell from his eye and dropped to the floor.

In an instant, Blaine had Kurt's fingers intertwined within his own. Kurt smiled softly at the familiar gesture, at the fact that both he and Blaine seemed to find comfort in simple touch and silent reassurance.

"Did you ever perform here?" Blaine asked eventually, breaking the silence with an easy change of subject. It seemed all too natural for him to move on without judgment or prying questions.

Kurt blinked, rather surprised. "I… I did, once," he answered, and laughed quietly. "It was just one song, though. I was a pretty shy kid. It's a shock I even got over my stage fright, to be honest."

The corners of Blaine's lips quirked up a little. "Can I hear it?"

Shaking his head rapidly, Kurt blushed. "No, it's silly," he said. "I mean, when you're seven and three-quarters it's cute. As a junior in high school, on the other hand…"

Blaine's smile widened a bit. "I promise not to judge," he replied, giving Kurt a big-eyed, hopeful look.

Kurt sighed exasperatedly. It was getting to be a problem, this inability of his to say no to that face. "Oh, alright, alright," he answered, standing and walking over to the piano on the side of the stage. He traced his fingers over the keys; they were incredibly dusty. The whole place really could have used a good cleaning a long time ago. "But you'd better not laugh."

"I won't make a sound."

Kurt smiled to himself and settled at the piano bench. He could still feel his mother's hand, steady and encouraging against his shoulder. It was like he was a little kid again, staring out into what had seemed to be a very large and critical audience. And his mother's words were in his ear… Don't be scared, baby. You're so much more talented than you realize.

In a moment, Kurt's fingers were on the piano keys, and the room was alive with music. His voice rang out strong and clear, just the same as it had been years ago, and yet so much more.

"Look at this stuff
Isn't it neat?
Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?
Wouldn't you think I'm the girl
The girl who has everything?
Look at this trove
Treasures untold
How many wonders can one cavern hold?
Looking around here you think
Sure, she's got everything."

As Kurt lost himself in the song, Blaine couldn't help but to stare. He was amazed; Kurt's beauty was delicate and angelic, yet fierce, unlike anything he'd ever seen. And his voice… that was simply beyond words.

"I wanna be where the people are
I wanna see, wanna see them dancin'
Walking around on those - what do you call 'em?
Oh - feet!
Flippin' your fins, you don't get too far
Legs are required for jumping, dancing
Strolling along down a - what's that word again?
Street
Up where they walk, up where they run
Up where they stay all day in the sun
Wanderin' free - wish I could be
Part of that world."

Blaine smiled, listening through to the end of Kurt's song. It was really something incredible to witness… the control he had over his voice, the ease with which he soared into high notes. As Kurt trailed off on the last note, he blinked, opening his eyes and blushing at the way Blaine was looking at him.

"I said not to laugh!"

Blaine's smile widened. "Am I laughing?" he replied innocently.

Kurt pouted slightly, pushing away from the piano and coming to sit beside Blaine again. He supposed he was just being overly self-conscious… still, this wasn't the sort of thing he shared with just anyone. He hoped Blaine was aware of that.

"She would have been proud to see you now, Kurt."

In surprise, Kurt turned to meet Blaine's eyes, which were entirely honest. He could feel himself tearing up again. "Really?"

Blaine smiled. "Definitely."

Kurt blinked down at the floor. He didn't know how to feel. How could someone he barely knew already understand him so well? What was it about Blaine?

"You're so brave," Blaine said suddenly. Kurt turned to him in question. "You trust yourself, even if what you are isn't what everyone else wants to see."

Smiling softly, Kurt thought for a moment. "I'm just lucky, I guess," he replied. "My dad's always tried really hard to be supportive. And I have a few decent friends. It helps."

"Wish I could say the same." The look in Blaine's eyes was painfully desolate. Kurt wondered how lonely he really was, trapped in a school full of people who didn't really know him and cast off by the people who should have.

"You should transfer out of Dalton," Kurt suggested after a moment. "You and I both know you don't belong there. You don't deserve that sort of reputation."

Blaine let out a short, dry laugh. "My dad would never go for that. I need a parent to sign the paperwork, and even if I could convince my mom into it, Dad would find out and send me back."

"He's just trying to punish you, Blaine. You've got to tell him it's been long enough. Scary as it is, nothing's ever going to change unless you have a little courage, right? Show him that he can't control you." Kurt gave Blaine's hand a little squeeze.

Blaine knew better than to think unrealistically about what he was being told now; he knew his father could hurt him. He had done so in the past, and he wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Still, Kurt's encouragement was inspiring. Maybe he was right… maybe it was finally time to be a man.

With a careful nod, Blaine met Kurt's eyes. They were shockingly blue-gray, terrified and strong all at once. Kurt stared back, and he wanted to kiss Blaine, to let him know that everything would be alright, that he didn't have to pretend all the time, that someday someone was going to accept him fully and completely. He looked so afraid.

Kurt settled for pressing his fingertips to Blaine's cheek. It was like a little haven here, just the two of them. Blaine leaned into the touch and let out a breath. "Tonight," he declared softly. "I'll talk to him tonight."