Once again, thanks for continuing reading and being generally awesome, because... I don't know. Just because being awesome rocks. :)
Chapter 6
Blaine hit his fingernails on the table in a rhythm to the song playing on the radio in the background. He continued grading homework assignments while waiting for Carrie to get to his house. He walked over the door when he heard a knock.
"Hey, Blaine." Carrie said, smiling as he opened the door.
"Hey Carrie. Everything's where it usually is, I should be back around midnight, Rose has been a little hyper all day, and she took a really long nap, so if she wants to stay up a half hour or so later than usual, that's fine." Blaine said while grabbing his coat and keys.
Rose ran into the room. "Miss Carrie! Miss Carrie! Miss Carrie! Look what I drew for you!" the four year old exclaimed, shoving the piece of paper in Carrie's face. "It's you, and me, and daddy. We're at the park, see, this is the swing set…" she kept telling Carrie her story while Blaine said good bye to her and walked out the door to his car.
Blaine pulled into the familiar parking lot, grabbed his guitar from the back seat, and headed inside.
Kurt Hummel was lying on the bed in his new apartment. He was one hundred thousand million billion trillion percent bored out of his skull. Rachel and Finn were out to dinner with his parents and her parents, and no one else that he knew well had gotten stuck or come back to this shitty town like him.
Well, except Blaine. But it was obvious that Blaine wasn't going to call him any time soon. Which meant he was stuck in this crappy town until he could make enough money to move back to New York. Which, from the looks of it, wouldn't be for five or six months. Which meant that he was stuck in this shitty no where town that he spent his whole life trying to get out of until June. Fucking June. Kurt had thought about asking friends from work if he could stay with them (that would make work a lot easier; he was sick of Skype conferences and emailing things back and forth. Luckily for him they were okay with that), but everyone at work either had a roommate or was married.
Groaning and rolling onto his back on his bed, Kurt pulled out his Iphone and started up a Google search for 'Things to do in Lima, Ohio.' Because it was the first result page, Kurt ended up on , where he started scrolling through all the news and future events. Then he saw an add for a café (and bar) in downtown Lima, near Blaine's school, that had live music, from any local performer, on Friday Saturday nights.
Kurt shrugged on his jacket, and grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet. Anything was better than moping around his apartment. Climbing into his old car from high school (that his dad had kept up to date all these years), Kurt headed towards the address the cafe was said to be at.
The parking lot looked fairly crowded, but Kurt had assumed it would be. It seemed there was nothing else for people in their twenties to do in this godforsaken town. Kurt headed towards the door and walked into the café. The live music apparently hadn't started yet, but Kurt saw someone setting some stuff up in the corner of his eye. So while he waited, Kurt pulled out his ID, walked to the bar, and ordered a beer.
It was really crowded, so Kurt couldn't get a seat close enough to the stage to see who was performing, but he could hear it just the same. He heard an acoustic guitar start up as he contemplated whether he should eat here or go home and make something later. Amidst his deciding, Kurt heard someone start singing.
I woke up this morning and the sun was gone
Turned on some music to start my day
I lost myself in a familiar song
I closed my eyes and I slipped away
And, holy fuck he knew that voice.
Blaine couldn't decide what song to start with. He'd been doing this for almost a year. It started when one of his Glee kids told their parents that he was amazing on a guitar and a piano. Those parents just happened to own a café that had live music every Saturday night, and Blaine had been asked to play at least once a month since then.
He was actually a huge hit. The regulars to the café loved bringing their kids to listen to 'good music,' which of course meant that Blaine would virtually play anything and everything; every genre from every time era. He usually took requests after playing two or three songs.
And it was usually pretty good. It had been a train wreck that one time someone had suggested he sing 'Blackbird,' and he barely pulled off someone's request of 'Somewhere Only We Know' a few weeks later, but his emotional connection to music in general is what attracted people to his nights at the café, so it was okay.
Except for that one time he was asked to sing Teenage Dream. He kindly told the person that he was sorry, but he couldn't.
So he strummed a few chords on his guitar, tuning it before launching into 'More Than a Feeling' by Boston. This was one that most everyone liked. Next he played 'Check Yes Juliet' by We the Kings. Then he opened it up for people to request things.
The process was simple. People would write their song request on a piece of paper and give it to anyone that worked there. Then they would put it into Blaine's fedora (that he always brought to these things) and he would draw one. If he didn't know it, he'd throw it out and choose another.
By the end of the night he'd sang Journey, Adele, Michael Jackson, Carrie Underwood, Miley Cyrus, Disney songs, One Republic, P!nk, Usher, Queen, Snow Patrol, Ke$ha, Beyonce, Justin Beiber, REO Speedwagon, and Coldplay. When it seemed to be getting later, Blaine said he'd take one more song. Reaching into his hat and grabbing a paper, Blaine saw, in what he was sure was Kurt's pristine handwriting, 'Candles—Hey Monday.'
Taking a deep breath, Blaine read off the name of the song to the audience, headed to the keyboard he had set up, and started playing it. He focused everywhere but the audience for this song, determined not to find Kurt. Not to sing it to him. Then it was time for his closing song; it was almost midnight and Carrie had to work tomorrow. So he really needed to get home
Blaine's last song, he decided, was 'Ours' by Taylor Swift. This one was hard for him to play, but easy at the same time. It had been his song to Kurt in high school, what with the way his father had treated Kurt, so it was difficult. But since he'd never actually told anyone that it was 'their song' in his head, it didn't hold any concrete meaning.
Or at least, that's how Blaine rationalized it.
Elevator buttons and morning air
Stranger silence makes me want to take the stairs
If you were here we'd laugh about their vacant stares
But right now my time is theirs
Seems like there's always someone who disapproves
They'll judge it like they know about me and you
And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do
The jury's out, but my choice is you
So don't you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
And life makes love look hard
The stakes are high, the water's rough
But this love is ours
And then Blaine looked out at the audience and saw, in the back, that familiar face standing in the back. He tried to ignore it. He tried to pretend he didn't see him, but once Kurt's eyes locked on to his, he knew he couldn't pretend. So he did the next most illogical thing he could think of: he sang to Kurt.
And it's not theirs to speculate
If it's wrong and
Your hands are tough
But they are where mine belong and
I'll fight their doubt and give you faith
With this song for you
How could Blaine have been so stupid? Kurt was pushing his way towards the front. Blaine had known that Kurt had to have been there. No one else would have requested 'Candles.' It wasn't a popular song among the people here. And he thought he had seen Kurt's grey-blue shoulder bag. And yet he still sang his favorite closing song.
So don't you worry your pretty little mind
People throw rocks at things that shine
And life makes love look hard
Don't you worry your pretty little mine
People throw rocks at things that shine
But they can't take what's ours
They can't take what's ours
The stakes are high, the water's rough
But this love is ours
There was a long moment after the song when Kurt held Blaine's eyes captive. Blaine knew he needed to look away. He needed to pack up his guitar and put his keyboard in the back room at the café. "Alright," he said finally, tearing his gaze away from Kurt's, "I should probably head out. Don't want to leave the poor babysitter with my little monster too long." Blaine winked.
Most everybody knew Rose. On the days Carrie had to the night shift, Blaine would bring her along; she'd stay for some of the music before falling asleep in the back room where his keyboard was stored.
Blaine put his guitar away in its case and put all of his sheet music in their respective folders. He coiled the cords that went to his guitar, microphone, and keyboard and put them in their boxes. Carrying that, the microphone, and his keyboard to the storage room, Blaine sincerely hoped Kurt had left after his song.
Hell, who was he kidding, since when had he been lucky in life?
"Blaine?" a soft (beautiful, musical, amazing—shut up Blaine!) voice called from behind him.
Blaine put on his carefully constructed smile and turned. "Hey, Kurt. Did you enjoy the show?"
"Yeah, I did. Your piano version of Tik Tok actually made the song worth listening to, instead of the piece of trash it usually is." Kurt grinned.
Blaine laughed, "Well, that was the intention."
And surprisingly enough, they virtually left it at that. They talked a little bit more walking out to the car, but Kurt never commented on Blaine's renditions of 'Candles' and 'Ours.' It's as if he knew Blaine was afraid to talk about it.
"Well, I better get home, it's getting pretty late." Kurt said, leaning on his car (where he and Blaine had spent the last minute or so chatting about the weather, the weather of all fucking things).
"Wait," Blaine said, "Have you been drinking?"
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I had about half a beer at the very beginning of your show, like, two hours ago. And then I remembered I don't even like beer, so I gave it to someone else."
Blaine laughed. "So let me get this straight, you forgot you don't like beer?"
Kurt blushed and shrugged, "Not exactly. I thought I might like it this time."
Blaine couldn't hold in his laughter. "You're one strange man, Kurt Hummel."
Kurt laughed too. "I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Anderson. I mean, who teaches 5 year olds and fifteen year olds? Seriously, who puts themselves up to all that torture? Who does that?"
Blaine laughed. "I do that, that's who."
"Well I'm the kind of person who tries beer every few months to see if I like it yet."
"Touché." Blaine said before looking at his watch. "Well, I better get home. Carrie needs to work tomorrow so." He shrugged and grinned. "Night, Kurt."
Kurt smiled and tried to suppress the butterflies in his stomach. "G'night Blaine."
When Blaine got home, Carrie was watching some horror movie he'd gotten from Netflix earlier that week. She jumped so high when the front door opened. "I thought you hated horror movies." Blaine laughed.
Carrie laughed too. "I do. But I felt like watching one."
"You're not going to sleep tonight." Blaine pointed out.
"Shut up, yes I will." Carrie giggled. Blaine sat down to finish the movie with her, and found that he couldn't stop smiling. He'd just, had a good night, he guessed.
When the movie was over, Blaine grabbed the remote and turned it off.
"See?" Carrie asked, "Piece of cake."
Blaine shook his head in disbelief. "You're still not going to sleep tonight."
Carrie stuck her tongue out at him teasingly. "So why are you so smiley tonight?"
Blaine rolled his eyes. "No reason."
"Yes reason." Carrie demanded. "You met someone!"
Blaine shook his head, and Carrie couldn't deny the truth in his eyes. "Nope."
She looked at him confused. "You re-met someone?" she watched his eyes carefully and saw the glimmer of confirmation. "Ha! You did! I knew it!"
"Yes, yes. You're very smart. Now go home and go to bed." Blaine instructed playfully.
She jokingly saluted him. "Yes sir!" she gathered up her stuff and headed towards the door. "Just, one more thing, Blaine." She said seriously.
He turned and looked at her. "What's that?"
Carrie's face broke out into a grin. "Can I help plan your wedding?"
Blaine groaned while trying not to laugh. "Go home, Carrie."
"Night, Blaine."
"Good night, Carrie."