"He's planning something."

Kurt glanced into the mirror. The other boys had just left to talk to their families before the fundraiser began. Kurt had slipped into the bathroom to tighten his tie and try to calm down.

"Break a leg… what does that mean? What did I do, what does he want me to do? Whatever it is, it can't be too bad, right? He's only human after all. He's only human, don't be afraid, break a leg… ah!" Kurt slumped against the sink, trying to subtly apply blush and put some color back in his cheeks.

He leaped away from the sink and slid his compact shut when Blaine walked in. But Blaine didn't seem to notice Kurt, rushing instead to the nearest stall and emptying his stomach into it. Thad trailed in after him.

"Not so bad?" Blaine moaned from his position on the floor. "My dad is out there! You know, the six foot tall former quarterback from whose loins I sprung? The man who made sure that my first outfit was a Notre Dame onesie? The man who's about to watch me dance around and sing like some sort of - " and Blaine leaned forward, retching into the toilet once again.

"You'll be fine, Blaine," Thad said. Then he turned to Kurt and said under his breath, "But, just between you and me? I'm glad you're taking the high note."

Kurt nodded and smiled, his lips stretching too tightly over his teeth. He was supposed to be excited. He had his first Dalton solo tonight. Kurt watched his lips stretch out into a smile in the mirror, checking to make sure it reached his eyes. It was a very good thing he was an actor.

He walked backstage, to where the boys lined up, identical uniform, identical sharp, clean appearances. A few boys reached for friend's hands, squeezing them reassuringly. David tried to reach for Kurt, but he backed away silently. David's face was pinched, but he didn't argue. Kurt felt a stab of guilt; it was his fault that David was alone. Still, it was best that Kurt didn't look too close to anyone right now.

He chanced a glance at Blaine. The boy still looked a bit green around the edges of his face; he noticed Kurt looking at him, and gave Kurt a furtive smile, before Thad reclaimed his attention. The burning jealousy in Kurt's gut was so familiar it almost numbed him. Thad barked something into a backstage microphone, and the chattering of the audience died down. Kurt's eyes darted away from Blaine, staring forward as the curtain rose.

Show time.

The Warbler set went off without a hitch, the Warblers performing with their usual brand of fun, predictable excellence. For once, Kurt did not resent Blaine's clear tenor rising about the group for song after song. It was nice to feel watched without that creeping sense of wrongness that haunted him, to give himself over to the music like this. Besides, his time in the spotlight was coming fast.

He could see Carole, Dad, and Finn in the audience. Finn looked slightly uncomfortable, eyeing the monocle the woman next to him was sporting as if he had never seen anything like it. Which, barring Mr. Peanut ads, he probably hadn't. Carole was also looking at the assorted guests, and smiling as she occasionally whispered in her husband's ear. Probably something about how nice everything looked – Carole was sweet like that. Kurt met his father's eyes. Dad smiled and held up two thumbs, his eyes locked on Kurt even though Blaine was front and center.

Before Kurt knew it, the warbler's voices were lowering, the boys moving into formation as they began a slow ballad. Blaine began singing in his key, but Kurt knew just from listening that he wouldn't be able to hit the top note, not with the way his voice was shaking. It was subtle – Blaine was a good enough performer to hide it. Kurt readied himself to take over, as soon as Blaine got through the first chorus. Blaine began it, his voice trembling harder than ever.

Kurt's phone rang.

The ring tone Kurt set for the unknown number was loud and shrill, it cut through the auditorium, without competition once Blaine stopped to take a breath.

The Warbler's faltered for a moment, coming back stronger to make up for the distraction. Kurt's heart hammered in his ears, drowning them out. He could feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. He needed to answer it; that was the only way to keep everyone he loved safe. Only human was nothing but a fragile excuse; Karofsky didn't need to be more than human to ruin everything he loved.

Kurt ran offstage.

He could feel Blaine glancing at the back of his neck, hear Blaine's voice falter and crack as he tried – and failed – to hit the note that was meant for Kurt.

"Forgive me," Kurt whispered. He answered his phone.

"You sang beautifully. Just like an angel should," Karofsky whispered.

"I was supposed to sing a solo. If you hadn't have interrupted me, you would have heard more." Kurt rushed into the choir room, where the boy's had practiced before the show. The other Warblers would find him easily there, they'd ask him what he was thinking, why his phone was even on during the concert… but they would ask him that anyway, and it was better to face things sooner than later.

"I wanted to test your loyalty," Karofsky said, "And to let you know that I've thought up a suitable punishment for your cheek this afternoon."

"Haven't you punished me enough?" Kurt hissed, "You've made my life one punishment after another, is it ever going to be enough for you?"

"I only punish you when you deserve it, Kurt."

"Why me? Why are you doing this?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know, Kurt. I guess I just feel… drawn to you. I've never felt this way about another boy. You intoxicate me, you infuriate me. And I need you to think of me as much as I think of you. I need you to be willing to give everything up to me, Kurt. And if you can't, I'll take everything until I'm all you have left. Good bye, Kurt."

The line went dead, and Kurt shuddered. He could hear rustling in the hall, then voices, raised as someone – or a group of someone's – ran his way.

"You shouldn't be getting so worked up; it was a great show."

"Yeah, it was one little mix-up, you can't let it set you back like this… Blaine, wait!"

The next thing Kurt knew, the choir room doors flew open, and Blaine stood in the doorway. He was short as ever, but strangely intimidating with his face twisted in rage.

"Why?" He said.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, "I got a phone call, a family emergency…"

"Your family was sitting in the front row. If you are mad at me, Kurt, then say that you're mad at me, but do not give me excuses, and do not patronize me… I knew that you had a problem with me, but I never thought you would be this vindictive. I relied on you, I trusted you!"

"Blaine!" A man rushed into the doorway, led by David and Thad. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with slick dark hair and burning dark eyes. Blaine locked eyes with his father, whimpered, and spun back around to face Kurt.

"I have never been so humiliated in my entire life," Blaine said, "And I will never forgive you for this."

Kurt was suddenly, forcefully reminded of Rachel Berry as Blaine turned on his heel and began to storm away. But while either of Rachel's dads would have followed her silently, Blaine's dad stopped him, hands on his shoulders.

"Blaine, what is wrong with you?" Blaine's dad said. It wasn't harsh, more gentle and pleading than anything.

"I could ask my boy the same thing." Kurt's heart plummeted as his father and Carole joined Blaine's father at the door, "Kurt, what is up with you? I've never seen you act like this, you've been jumpy, way too attached to your phone, and now I hear from your principal that someone broke into your room? Why didn't you tell me that was going on, huh?"

"I d-don't… I don't know, Dad. I'm sorry…"

"This isn't like you," Burt said, staring at his son. Kurt was afraid of this. A few looks, a tiny bit of information, and Dad would be able to put the pieces together. He was always perceptive, too perceptive; especially when it came to people he loved.

"Kurt's a pretty good actor when he wants to be," Blaine said. It was both a welcome distraction for his father and a punch in Kurt's gut. The venom in Blaine's voice was only too clear.

Blaine's father noticed it, too, and his grip on Blaine tightened, still gentle, but firm. "Blaine, that was rude. You need to apologize."

"I am not apologizing to him!"

"I'm sorry, but this is not a discussion. I am your father, and I am telling you what you need to do. There's no reason for you to be this upset, I don't even know why you're mad at this boy."

Blaine stared into his father's eyes and the room fell perfectly silent. The only sound left was Blaine's broken whisper, "He hurt me, Daddy."

Kurt winced. Blaine's father wrapped his arms around his son, pressing the boy's face to his shirt. "I'm sorry, baby boy. We'll talk about it some more when we get home, okay?"

"Yeah, Kurt, I'm thinking the same thing," Burt said, "Come on."

But Kurt was suddenly frozen, staring at his family. Karofsky's threat had been rattling around in his brain, and it suddenly stuck on his family.

"Where's Finn?" He asked. Burt and Carole froze, "Where's Finn!"

"He went to use the bathroom," Carole asked, her face tight with worry, "Honey, what's wrong?" But Kurt was running out the door before she could finish her sentence.

"Finn's my punishment."