Note: Thanks so much to everyone for the positive feedback I've gotten about this story! Hope you're enjoying!
I included a song in this chapter, Alive by Melissa O'Neil. It's not a very well-known song, so I'll give you the Youtube link if you want to listen to it while you read that part of the chapter!
.com/watch?v=hTdGvIkbchE
"So, what compelled you to stage your own concert in the middle of central park?" Kurt smiled at Blaine as they settled down onto a park bench. "It's only your second day here, there's plenty of time to make it big."
Blaine blushed slightly and laughed, looking up from his coffee. "I guess I was homesick."
"Already?" Kurt looked a little taken aback. "You said on the plane you were looking forward to leaving Ohio."
"Not that kind of homesick," Blaine corrected the blue-eyed boy sitting next to him. "More like...trying to find a home. New York feels a bit big and I just wanted to go to the place music takes me. It sounds kind of crazy, I know."
"No, it doesn't. Not at all."
After the crowd had faded away and cell phone numbers had been exchanged, Kurt suggested that he and Blaine find the nearest Starbucks. Rachel had headed home a while ago, but not before greeting Blaine and giving Kurt a tight hug goodbye, her face lit up excitedly.
The two boys had walked through central park for close to an hour, talking about their first few hours in their new apartments and dreams for the future.
Blaine couldn't help but wonder if a kiss and coffee meant that they were on a date. Or were he and Kurt simply hanging out? He had no idea, and was enjoying himself far too much to risk the potential awkwardness of asking. He'd spent the minutes after his first kiss reliving the feeling of Kurt's lips on his, and trying desperately to keep up a conversation with someone who kept knocking the air out of his lungs every time he so much as looked his way.
He wasn't sure what he and Kurt were, or what anything that had happened between them meant, but while he walked with him through the now lit-up city, he couldn't bring himself to care. All he knew was that Kurt's eyes were absolutely beautiful, and as far as kisses went, the one they'd shared had been nothing short of perfection.
Even though the day was fading from evening to night, there were still people everywhere Blaine looked. Joggers, couples, elderly people, and food vendors showed no signs of going home. It was an unbelievable contrast to sleepy Westerville.
Ever since Blaine had walked out the door of the airport and driven into the city, he'd felt the unmistakable beat people so often claimed New York generated. With it's mixture of businessmen, taxis, tourists, restaurants, and lights, he couldn't help but be captivated by his new surroundings.
But never in a million years did he think he'd meet the boy from the airplane again. And yet here they were, drinking coffee on a park bench, melting perfectly into the scene of central park at night. Blaine wondered if their hearts, his much quicker than usual, were contributing to the city's beat he felt all around him. It was magical to feel so connected, so much a part of something, when he'd spent years getting by so completely alone.
Blaine already knew that this city of taxi horns and neon lights was where he belonged. It would take some getting used to; he'd have to practice riding the subway and memorize the locations of his favourite stores. But it was here that he could play his music and have people appreciate it, here that he could sit so close to another boy on a park bench, here that he wasn't suffocated by expectations of who he should or shouldn't be. New York was where he hoped he could discover the Blaine Anderson he'd been waiting to become, the boy once buried by other people's close-minded standards and the shame he harboured for not living up to them.
"You're really good, you know," Kurt said, pulling Blaine out of his thoughts. "Really really good."
"Sorry, what?" Blaine had no idea what he and Kurt had just been talking about. The only thing he could focus on was the way the light from a streetlamp was hitting the angles of Kurt's face…
"Your music," Kurt explained. "Your voice, it's like magic set to a melody."
Blaine blushed for the twentieth time that day. "Music's the only thing I had in Westerville. When I sang, that was the only time I didn't feel like I was pretending to be something else."
Kurt raised his eyebrows slightly. He knew that Kurt wanted to know more about him, but he really didn't think he was ready to start explaining his past to someone he'd just met, no matter how much he wished he was able to.
"It's kind of complicated."
To Blaine's relief, the other boy didn't question him further. But then he realized that he was simply shutting himself off, something he was particularly good at doing. He'd promised himself that New York would be different. He didn't have to be so scared anymore.
"But maybe I'll play you something again sometime? There's this song I used to sing all the time, it got me through a lot…" Blaine trailed off.
Kurt seemed to wait for him to elaborate, but when he didn't he simply asked, "Play it for me now?"
"Here?" Blaine was little taken aback. "You just heard me play an hour ago."
"Central park heard you play. And it was great, but now I'm asking you to play for me."
Of course, Blaine couldn't resist anything Kurt asked him to do. His sparkling eyes, alight with interest, were impossible to say no to.
"Alright," Blaine smiled at Kurt, and picked up his guitar, which he'd rested against the bench. Here we go."
Stuck in a world
No longer turning
Always the boy
Waiting for something
Too many days
Walking around sleeping
Open my eyes
I'm tired of dreaming
Even as he sang the words, he couldn't believe how well they fit. He'd sung the song all the time in Westerville. On his worst days it had been his promise to himself of a better life to come.
I wanna run with the reckless emotion
Find out if love is the size of an ocean
Even if I crash down and burn out
At least I'm gonna know what it's like
To feel alive
Sun on my face
Lights of the city
Maybe in love
Or just learning to be
On my two feet
I can only imagine
I'll say the words
And believe it will happen
I wanna run with the reckless emotion
Find out if love is the size of an ocean
Even if I crash down and burn out
At least I'm gonna know what it's like
To feel alive
They think they know me
But how can they know me
I'm getting to know myself
I'm finally ready
To be somebody
With a story to tell
I wanna run with the reckless emotion
Find out if love is the size of an ocean
Even if I crash down and burn out
At least I'm gonna know what it's like
I wanna feel 'til my heart breaks wide open
I wanna blaze like a fire that's growin'
Even if I crash down and burn out
At least I'm gonna know what it's like
To feel alive
Oh, I feel Alive
Kurt smiled and appeared to be listening intently. As he finished the song, the other boy gently took his hand and slid his fingers through Blaine's. Their eyes met, and for a long time, they stayed like that, gazing at each other, their fingers perfectly intertwined. Blaine felt an overwhelming sense of calmness; he relaxed, completely let his guard down, and slowly breathed in the warm July air subtly infused with the sweet smell of vanilla, which he realized must be Kurt's signature scent.
After a while, Blaine murmured, "It's so nice to be able to do this."
Kurt just smiled back for a second, and then slightly pulled away, as though something about what Blaine had said bothered him.
"Kurt? I'm sorry, I didn't mean – I know we're not- we just met- "
"No, don't worry, I'm fine. It's not that. It's just – I've dreamed about this moment for a long time. Just to be able to sit with another guy and hold hands without worrying someone's going to yell out an insult or beat you up or whatever else idiots like to do…it's just something I didn't have for a really long time."
"What?" Blaine was thoroughly surprised. He'd never thought Kurt was the type to be bullied or picked on. Surely he'd had boyfriends before? Blaine was no stranger to bullying- he'd been seriously injured at his old school before transferring to Dalton Academy. But Kurt just seemed so strong, so talented, so sure…definitely not the type he'd peg for a bullying victim.
"I don't know what it was like at Dalton, but in Lima, gays weren't exactly highly regarded."
Blaine caught a glimpse of Kurt's face and decided not to pursue the subject further. Whatever kind of sadness was being reflected in his eyes wasn't something he wanted to bring up. So Kurt had a difficult past too – he wasn't the only one. Blaine desperately wanted to ask him about his family, his friends, his old school…he wanted to know everything about Kurt. But it wasn't the right time or place, and it really was getting late.
Kurt's phone vibrated and Blaine watched him read a text and blush deeply. He briefly wondered for one horrible second if the text had been from someone else – another guy back in Ohio?
"It's Rachel," Kurt supplied, and Blaine visibly relaxed. Not that he had any right to be upset if Kurt was texting someone else…while their kiss had meant everything to Blaine, he had absolutely no idea what it meant to Kurt, if anything. "She's wondering what happened to me, apparently my dad called our apartment to check in."
Blaine glanced at his Samsung Galaxy and gaped at the time. It'd been two and a half hours since Rachel had headed home. Even central park had emptied quite a bit, but Blaine had been too caught up in Kurt to notice.
Blaine registered the fact that this was the second time Kurt had mentioned his family. He'd said something on the plane about how excited they were after he received his NYADA acceptance letter. And now his dad was calling to check on him and see how he was doing. It was obvious that he was cared about.
Earlier in the day, Blaine had texted his father to let him know that he'd made it to his apartment safely and was settling in. The only message he received in response was, "I'll let your mother know."
"I should probably get back home. I called him earlier, but he'll start to worry if I don't call again soon, and Rachel's probably lonely…" Kurt started to get up from the park bench.
Blaine felt a sort of ache in the pit of his stomach at the mention of fathers. How could his own not even care enough to call, let alone worry? Oh right, maybe because he didn't even consider Blaine his son…
"Are you okay?" Kurt was standing in front of Blaine, a concerned expression on his face. "I'd love to stay out longer, but I really do need to get home. And you probably have calls to make too, I don't want to keep you."
"Yeah, of course. No, it's fine. I do. Yeah. I should head home too." Blaine grabbed his guitar and then stood up, accepting Kurt's outstretched hand as he did so. "Thanks."
"No problem." Kurt gave him a sweet smile and the two boys began to walk towards the subway.
It wasn't long before they reached their destination. As they walked down the steps towards the subway, Blaine had the sudden urge to grab hold of Kurt and refuse to let go. He'd already let him walk away once, and he wasn't sure if he could allow himself to do it again. Especially after everything that happened…
The other boy seemed to read his mind. "Don't look so worried. I've got your number now, remember?" Kurt laughed as he teased him.
"I know," Blaine managed to smile back. But the truth was, without Kurt, it was just him against the world. He'd have to go back to his empty apartment, eat alone, maybe watch TV or just play guitar to fill the silence. It would be better than Westerville, of course, but after spending the past few hours with Kurt, the emptiness of his apartment would be almost unbearable.
"Thank you so much for the music today. Really. Your voice is – you are- that song is- " Kurt seemed suddenly tongue-tied as he searched for the right word to finish his sentence. "Beautiful."
And then before Blaine realized what was happening, Kurt's lips were against his and they were kissing. It was much slower and gentler than the one they'd shared earlier, as though they were both trying to memorize the feeling of their lips together, in case they never saw each other again. It was silly, Blaine knew, now that they had exchanged numbers, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Kurt was somehow a perfect dream he'd have to wake up from.
Kurt's breath was hot against his cheek and he found himself swept up in the moment, not thinking but simply feeling. He ran his fingers through Kurt's silky hair as the other boy's hands wrapped loosely around his neck. Then Blaine felt his own hands making their way down Kurt's back, holding him close to his body, as he breathed in the sweet scent of vanilla.
Behind Kurt, the subway came whooshing into the station. A voice on the loudspeaker announced that this was Blaine's train, heading to Queens.
A few seconds later, they broke apart and their eyes met. Kurt's looked brilliant, as though tiny stars had exploded within the deep blue of his iris.
Blaine couldn't resist a grin. "You're welcome."
"Don't miss your train, Airport Boy."
"Is that what I am now? Airport Boy?" Blaine laughed.
"Yes, you are. And now that I've given you my number-"
"Took you long enough."
"I wanted to give it to you before," Kurt admitted, blushing. God, Blaine would never get used to the colour of his cheeks when he did that. "But anyway, now that you have it, I expect a call."
"Do you really?" Blaine teased. "Well, in return, I expect a song."
"A song?" Kurt gave him an incredulous look.
"I've already given you two! You're going to NYADA for musical theatre in the fall, just think of this as practice." Blaine winked.
"Alright, you'll get a song," Kurt promised. "And a coffee. Meet me at Starbucks, tomorrow at 4?"
"Sure," Blaine smiled again, amused that Kurt had asked it as a question. As if there was anywhere else he'd rather be.
He was so caught up in their conversation that he nearly missed the subway, whose doors were just beginning to close. Kurt pushed him through at the last second, laughing. "You're better with airplanes."
Blaine stuck out his tongue at the other boy as the subway began to pick up speed. Soon, Kurt was just a blur outside the window, and then he was gone as the train faded into surrounding darkness.
But even fifteen minutes later, when Blaine had gotten off the subway and was beginning the walk back to his apartment, he couldn't prevent the loneliness from settling in again.
It had been a long time since he remembered being truly happy. Maybe elementary school, before he realized he was different from the other kids. He'd spent high school afraid of failing, afraid of loving, afraid of himself. It was so hard to tear down walls that he had spent years putting up. But maybe with Kurt's help…
Blaine's frowned slightly as he reached his apartment building. Weren't you supposed to meet your soulmate once you had yourself figured out and your life together? The boyfriend at the beginning of the story never lasted long enough to be the boyfriend at the end. But how could he resist Kurt? He was breathtaking, understanding, caring…everything that Blaine needed.
Didn't that just mean that Kurt deserved better? He obviously had family and friends who loved and cared about him. Blaine was willing to bet that they all knew he was gay. What would Kurt say when he found out that he hadn't even come out to his family yet, that they disapproved of him moving to New York to follow his dreams, that they'd probably cancel his credit cards and invest his trust fund if they ever found out who he really was…
Blaine was trying desperately to accept himself, but it was just so damn difficult when no one else around him could manage to do it. Until Kurt.
Kurt gave him more hope than he'd ever found within himself. He understood Blaine in ways he'd never dreamed anyone could.
Kurt seemed to be filled with dreams, belief, acceptance, and a beautiful ability Blaine lacked: the capacity to love someone else, fully. How could he ever be with Kurt? It could work for a while, but what would happen when Kurt found out that he was empty, hollow, and filled with nothing but a burning desire to be someone else, someone he didn't have to struggle not to hate?
He tried so hard to want to be the things that he was, but he almost always lost the battle.
Blaine rode the elevator to his apartment on the second floor of one of the nicest buildings in Queens. He suddenly hated everything about it: the perfectly made bed with overstuffed pillows, the gigantic window with a spectacular view, the large oak dressers, and the framed paintings on the walls. It was all paid for by his father. The same man who could never know him, never approve of him, never love him. Why the hell did he have to be so different?
Blaine threw his guitar on his bed, and in a moment of pure rage, stormed into the bathroom. He caught sight of his reflection in the large mirror.
He had his mother's eyes.
The same colour hair as his grandfather had once had.
And oh god, his hands, his father's stupid hands-
Blaine punched the mirror with all the force he could muster, causing it to shatter into a hundred broken pieces of varied size and shape. The glass cut his hands in several places, causing them to bleed over the bathroom counter.
Good.
He tried to compose himself, but he couldn't take his eyes away from the person reflected in what was left of the mirror. He heard his father's voice in his head.
What did I do wrong? I gave you everything, Blaine.
You're wasting your time, you know that, right?
I've always wanted what's best for you. And then you decide that you want to throw all of that away?
Go to New York. Live out your silly little fantasies. And come back to me when you're ready to grow up.
Before he could register what he was doing, Blaine had punched the mirror several more times. When he looked around, he realized his hands were swollen and bloody, and the counter and bathroom floor were showered in fragments of glass. His heart was racing, and his skin was drenched in sweat.
He stood in front of what once was the mirror for a few seconds, waiting for his senses to return and the world to stop spinning. Once his heart began to slow down, he washed his hands and picked out the pieces of glass with tweezers before bandaging the cuts carefully. He then set to work on cleaning up the bathroom, grabbing a broom and sweeping up the mess he'd made.
Half an hour later, the room was once again spotless, with the exception of the faded piece of wall where the mirror had once hung. He resolved to buy a new one before he met Kurt for coffee the following day.
Refusing to even think about what had just happened, Blaine turned on the TV, changed into boxers and a Dalton t-shirt, and climbed into bed. He waited for sleep to come, but it took hours before he sank into a restless night filled with bad dreams.
He only remembered one: a nightmare in which the plane he'd been on with Kurt, flying from Ohio to New York, had crashed, leaving him in the middle of some unknown ocean. He searched for Kurt's face among the other passengers, hoping that somehow he'd made it, but quickly realized that all the passengers were…him. Fifty different Blaine Andersons lay silent as the aircraft began to sink into the water. The doors were locked, and he couldn't see any windows, but somehow water started to leak into the plane. He called for help, but no one answered. Blaine knew that somewhere, Kurt was still alive and needed him. But the water was rising too quickly, and the last thing he saw before he woke up with a scream was his guitar, floating through the water.