On Day 13, we went out for an early dinner, since there was also a show that night. We had been out for coffee twice more in the last five days, and I was starting to consider them 'dates' rather than just... coffee. It was just after the premiere of West Side Story, which I didn't want to pressure Blaine to come to, but also very much wanted to see him at, even if Rory had gotten Tony over me. I was telling him a story about Finn and the latest, most ridiculous way he had trashed the kitchen yet. I had expected Blaine to be rolling on the floor laughing, but he was just smiling vaguely and nodding along.
"...And then it blew up!" I continued, and Blaine's smile widened a little for a moment, but soon returned to the barely-there smile he had held throughout the story. "Blaine," I said gently, and when it didn't even register, I realized Blaine hadn't even been listening to me. "Blaine!" I said a little louder, and Blaine looked jolted, blinking. "Have you been listening to me?" It wasn't an accusation, just a question. Regardless, Blaine looked a bit sheepish.
"I... I spaced out a little bit, sorry. I got all the way up until he tried to use Coke bottles and a serving tray to make a sled for going down the stairs," Blaine said, a clear offer for me to tell the story again, but I didn't take it.
"What's wrong?" I asked and Blaine's brow furrowed.
"Nothing," he said innocently.
"Blaine, even when you were listening, you didn't look very amused. What's wrong?" I repeated, and Blaine sighed.
"Nothing. Your family just seems so... normal." I honestly snorted at that. I'm not proud of it, but I did. Blaine chuckled. "Okay, maybe that's not the right word. Peaceful? Happy? Loving?"
"What's your family like?" I asked, and I knew I had picked the right question for finding out what was wrong when Blaine sighed again.
"Not like that," he admitted. "My family is all about yelling and avoiding each other. I haven't seen my brother, Cooper, in two years because he doesn't want to have to deal with any of us. My father spends most of his time in Chicago, and comes home argumentative and tipsy. My mother left my father a long time ago, but since he controlled the back accounts, he came away with all of the money and both of us."
"Blaine, I am-" He didn't let me finish.
"Don't apologize," he said, sighing. "It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. Just... un-luck of the draw, I suppose. I'm just not used to being around families that actually care about one another. Even at my old school, I spent time mostly with people I knew that are... wealthier, and for some reason money breeds familial discourse. Everyone I knew had family issues. You seem to love yours."
"I do, very much," I admitted, because yes, your boyfriend is a goofball, but I do love him dearly. "And I'm sorry that you don't have that in your life, Blaine."
"It's all right," Blaine said, sighing again and starting to hum 'Bad Luck'. He was even a talented hummer!
"Blaine, can I ask you something?" I said slowly. I know this has been nagging you since the beginning of the story, his talent and my lack of mentioning Glee club, but I'm getting there, okay? Blaine nodded in answer, having ceased humming. "Why did you join the Cheerios instead of the Glee club?" Blaine's face closed off, and he shook his head. "You would be able to display your talents so much better as a part of the New Directions, and you could whatever style of music you wanted to."
"Kurt," he said softly, and I knew he was trying to let me down gently, "I appreciate the... offer, I suppose, but I need the Cheerios."
"Why?" Sadly, at this point in the relationship, I hadn't realized when was pushing and when was just prompting. This was definitely pushing, but Blaine allowed it.
"The Cheerios are my protection from everything, be it from the jocks, Jacob Ben Israel, or anyone who wants to make it their business that I'm not exactly the normal. Being with the Cheerios doesn't help people forget that I'm gay, exactly, but it gives them something else to categorize me as. I'm not 'a gay kid,' I'm a Cheerio, and that means people know to be afraid of me and the power I wield. If I were to join the inappropriately-named New Directions," I ignored the fact that Charlie had obviously shared his 'Nude Erections' joke, "I would become the second 'gay Glee kid', and I'm not sure I could handle that... but I so admire that you can." Blaine was looking at me with the biggest, warmest hazel eyes I had ever seen, and I will admit, looking back on it, that I completely melted and didn't say any of the things I wanted to say. Blaine had a lot of protective layers, some of which are gone now, and the fact that he was even letting down his walls for me was amazing. I couldn't ask him to let down his walls for the rest of the world.
"I understand," I said, undoubtedly smiling like an oaf. "Though, if you were a member of the New Directions, you'd be having a lot more fun with a lot less crazy."
"I've met Rachel Berry, Kurt. You cannot promise me any less crazy." Sorry, Rach.
"True." I apologize again.
"I'm still not..." Blaine sighed and looked down at the table top, biting his lip, "I'm still not ready to be myself with anyone again." Call it insanity or call it instinct, I placed my hand gently on top of his, prompting him to look up at me and smile. "Except maybe you."
"I think I can handle that."
I'm guessing you know from Jacob Ben Israel's fully re-vamped blog that Blaine and the Cheerios showed up for West Side Story that night, and they were the first to stand during curtain call. It shocked me, because I hadn't even mentioned the play to Blaine before, knowing how fragile our relationship was at that point. During curtain call, when I was called along with some of the random Jets (way to demean a character with actual lines, by the way), Blaine winked at me, and I realized I was the reason he and his crew were there. Major brownie points... as if he needed any.
The following conversation happened the next day.
So why did you choose the Glee club over the Cheerios?
I did both for a bit.
Yes, but you never rejoined the Cheerios your junior year, if I've heard the rumors correctly. Am I not allowed to ask why?
Well, Coach didn't beg me, number one. I guess she thought her big, dramatic, vocalist stunt was over and I was no longer absolutely necessary.
Is there a number two?
I didn't... really want to. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed my time with the Cheerios, and, as vain as it makes me sound, I have to admit that I love winning, but... the Cheerios weren't what I believed in. They were so focused on winning that it wasn't very... enjoyable. The whole reason I joined in the first place was so that I could show off my talent, but once the glamour wore off, I realized I wasn't really enjoying myself. So I quit and went back to my natural element. And I love Glee club.
Write novels much?
And yeah, I guess that's understandable, but how can you not enjoy the Cheerios? It's hard work, but it is *fun* and the girls (most of them) are fun to work with.
This sounds like a proposal, Mr. Anderson.
It is. Rejoin the Cheerios.
No.
Why not?
While I appreciate the offer, I'm not a Cheerio, I'm a Gleek. That's what I've always been, that's what I always will be, and I'm happy with that.
Why can't you be both?
Conflicts of interest at the top and bottom of the pyramid are never a good thing, Anderson. Sometimes it's best to leave the past be.
Blaine?
Blaine!
Blaine, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.
I should probably explain those last few. I knew the Cheerios mean a lot to Blaine, but there are a thousand and one reasons why I don't want to be a Cheerio anymore, and I know now that Blaine respects these reasons. However, at the time, we were having an argument, a rather flirty argument, I will admit, and Blaine suddenly stopped answering, which made me terribly nervous. I had to sit through the last two periods of the day, waiting and hoping that Blaine wasn't mad and that he would answer. I spent him a few more apologetic messages, but he didn't respond. I knew that if I went to talk to him I would have no way of telling if he was angry or not, because he would act like the bitchy Cheerio he pretends to be. It was torture, waiting until the end of the day for Blaine to reply, and even then he still didn't.
I considered trying to corner him, get him alone so I could talk to him and he would treat me like a human being, but unfortunately he had practice, and even under the pain of death, no one would ever be late to a Cheerios practice. Sue Sylvester could do things a lot worse than merciful death.
I resolved myself to a night of crying and watching romantic comedies and yelling at the screen because the characters were lying to me about how unlikely romances have happy endings. I was convinced that whatever was happening between Blaine and I would end at the two-week mark, that very day, so I was very surprised (and ridiculously happy) to get a phone call that night from an unknown number. There was about a one in seven billion chance that the number was Blaine rather than a prank call or a hate call, worse than my chances of winning the lottery, but at that point I was hoping more for it to be Blaine than I was hoping to win the lottery. I was a little bit ridiculously obsessed at this point.
"Hey, Kurt," came the most amazing voice in the world over the phone (this is not love-struck exaggerating. He actually has a ridiculously phenomenal voice, even on the phone. But you know how incredible his voice is).
"Blaine, hi," I said shyly, wishing I had lived twenty years earlier so I would have a phone cord to twist around my fingers while I was talking.
"I'm sorry about today. Mrs. Rattlesnake took my phone." Mrs. Ratchet, nicknamed Mrs. Rattlesnake by some of the very unfortunate juniors who are thus far the only people who have had to deal with her, is Blaine's English teacher. "This is my home phone, by the way, in case you want to save it."
"I definitely will," I said before I realized how creepy that would sound. "I mean..."
"All right, Rose, just don't be sneaking into my house while I'm out, okay?" Blaine said teasingly, and I couldn't help but giggle. It was funnier when he said it.
"Fine, fine, I'll stop doing that." I had no idea where Blaine lived. That was the only thought in my head at that moment.
"As for the Cheerios, I totally understand why you don't want to re-join the team. I admit the Cheerios can be trying at times, and it's awful to have to deal with Coach Sylvester everyday, and maybe the magic of performing will eventually wear off for me too... but I sincerely doubt that." I sighed a little dreamily. Blaine chose (wisely) not to comment on it.
"So, our first fight is resolved then?" I asked teasingly, but the answer wasn't quite what I had been expecting.
"'Our first fight'?" Blaine repeated. "Does that mean we're dating now?"
"I... Well..." You may be wondering about my hesitation. Of course I wanted to be Blaine's boyfriend, but our relationship was... fragile at best, and I was worried that the past he kept alluding to but never talking about would be our breaking point. This was admittedly completely stupid, but it was how I was feeling at the time. Blaine seemed like the perfect guy, with some... limitations, but I didn't know him all that well, and I really didn't want my first relationship to be closeted.
"Kurt?" he asked softly as I stuttered some more. "I know our relationship isn't perfect, far from it, and I know it's not exactly what you want, and we don't know each other very well, but I really like you, and I would love it if you would be my boyfriend." At this point I paused in shock because I was admiring his nerve.
"I would love that too," I replied once I had gotten my head back on, and Blaine breathed a sigh of relief.
"Awesome. So how does Friday sound for our first official date?" he asked.
"That's in three days." Okay, I was pouting. But just a little bit.
"I think you'll survive. Goodnight, Kurt." Blaine had hung up, rather abruptly, before I got the chance to return the sentiment. I was about to call him back and berate him for it, but I realized it may have had something to do with his father and messed up family. After all, it was his home phone.
I won't bore you with how I was constantly nervous, distracted, and jumpy for the next three days. You probably noticed that, but you were busy with Finn's recruitment and the fact that West Side Story was still running and all that, so you thankfully didn't ask me about it.
Don't give me that look.
When Friday came, after what felt like several torturous lifetimes, I arrived at BreadstiX a bit early. Yes, our first date was set to be at BreadstiX, which wasn't exactly covert, but apparently Blaine wasn't terribly worried about being seen with me, which made me feel a little better. It was a bit chilly, being late October, but I resolved to sit outside and wait for Blaine.
The time when we were supposed to meet came and went, and I was freezing at this point, so I went inside. I checked with one of the waitresses to see if Blaine had arrived (he hadn't) and scanned the restaurant for him anyway, because I refused to accept the reality of what was happening. Blaine was standing me up.
I am embarrassed to admit that I stood outside for another hour before I gave up. My first thought was that apparently Blaine was more worried about seeing me in public than I had originally thought, but I dismissed that notion pretty quickly. Blaine had been the one to set the parameters for our date by text, I would have driven out to Columbus to be with him. My second thought (which should have been my first thought) was that something had happened, that Blaine had gotten into a car accident or been caught by some toothless thugs, who aren't usually the type of person to appreciate a male cheerleader who is widely known for his sexuality. That thought was easily dismissed by a call to Lima General, which reported no admissions of anyone near our age in any regional hospital. My third thought was what I eventually decided on.
Blaine didn't really like me. I know, don't give me that face, it was stupid, but it was how I was feeling at the time. I'm sure if I gave you free range to tell some dramatic story about Finn, all I would be hearing out of your mouth would be your misguided emotions. Anyway, that's what I assumed, that Blaine had decided he didn't want to date me, that he only liked me as a friend, that he only put up with me because Charlie was proud of getting us together. It could have been anything, but I was convinced that Blaine wasn't interested.
Then the first call came. Admittedly, I chucked my phone at the wall, but for something shipped in a box marked fragile, iPhones are indestructible, and it kept ringing. I, of course, stubborn as always, didn't answer.
So he called again, and I went downstairs to hang out with the family, not wanting to listen to my phone ring and see 'BA Calling' on the screen, knowingly that he probably just wanted to tell me what he should have told me before I waited in the cold for almost two hours for him: that he didn't want to go on that date. Finn asked me what was wrong multiple times, being the only person that was in the house since Dad and Carole were in Washington, but I ignored him.
He had called four times when I went back upstairs, and had left one voicemail. Pure weakness was the reason I listened to it, and I'm certainly glad I did. I don't remember the exact wording, but it went something like this:
Hey, Kurt, it's me, Blaine, but you obviously know that because you're not answering. I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be peeved, but if you had picked up one of my earlier calls you would have been a lot happier a lot faster. I am currently on a bus, leaving Chicago with the Cheerios. It's risky to call you, but I don't care. The Cheerios Sectionals got moved, and I only found out after school when Coach hoarded us onto the bus. I would have called or texted, but Coach Sylvester took all of our phones and told us to review our choreography and some other... not so nice things that I really don't want to repeat because she's already glaring at me. We won, in case you care, which you probably don't. I'm sorry about missing our first date, and I hope you didn't wait too long. I really like you, and I'm sure you've been doubting that while we competed, but you are an amazing person, Kurt, and I feel... completely comfortable around you. The only other person I really feel comfortable around is Brittany, and she's currently snoring on my lap. So, it's about midnight, and I hope you're in bed right now. I'll be back in Lima at around three in the morning, so I'm going to get some sleep, but call me back if you listen to this and ever want to talk to me again. I hope to hear from you... well, I guess it's later today now. Sweet dreams, Kurt.
I cried a little listening to it honestly. Blaine was the sweetest guy I had ever met, yes, sweeter than Finn, and I couldn't be mad at him for the actions... or should I call them antics? of his crazy cheerleading coach. He loved the Cheerios, and I was proud that they had won their Sectionals. It was important to Blaine, and so it was important to me. I called him back at around two o'clock the next afternoon.
"Hmm?" was the kind of coherency I received at that hour.
"I would say 'good afternoon', but it's obvious you just woke up, so, good morning!" I said, a little bit sarcastically but mostly affectionately.
"Kurt!" At least he sounded lucid. "You actually called me back. I wasn't sure you were going to."
"Unfortunately, you're charming enough that your words can help you get away with making me stand out in the cold for two hours hoping you were just late." Okay, so I was trying to make him feel a little guilty. It had been really cold outside of BreadstiX!
"You stood out there for...oh my God, Kurt, I am so sorry." Teasing Blaine was no fun, however, when he was honestly remorseful. "I can't believe you waited there for two hours! I'm not even worth it!"
"You really are though." Now I was being stupidly sweet, but I meant it.
"I..." Blaine was speechless. It was rather remarkable.
"If you can remember to show up this time, how about we go on a date this Friday?" I asked, and then because I couldn't help but get a little more ribbing in, "if you don't have Regionals."
"I would say you're not funny, but I wouldn't be able to not laugh as I said it," Blaine replied, and it sounded like he was smiling. "And I definitely deserved that. But yes, I would be absolutely thrilled to try this again."
"Good. When is your Regionals, just for reference's sake?" I asked, but I was less teasing and more trying to find a reason to see Blaine perform. Coach Sylvester has fallen out of the habit of forcing students to come to pep rallies she set up, and I wanted to watch Blaine perform with the Cheerios now that I thought of him as my boyfriend rather than an intolerable bitch.
"Not for a while. It's ridiculous that we had Sectionals this early in the year. Most of the time Sectionals isn't until November at least." I chose to ignore that Blaine said nothing about Glee and our Sectionals. I was still working on not pushing him, and asking him to come support me seemed like too much, even though he had already done so. I know, I was an idiot.
Blaine and I texted back and forth that entire week, Blaine still feeling bad about having stood me up and me... very much taking advantage of that fact to talk to my boyfriend as much as possible. I was still kind of marveling that I actually had a boyfriend; it seemed surreal. The only conversation we had that week that was even mildly important is this one. Just let me scroll through.
I swear to God, if Coach Sylvester suggest one more helicopter for Regionals, I might just have to call the cheerleading authorities on her.
Who exactly are the cheerleading authorities?
... I'll look into that. How's Glee club, by the way? I spend so much of my time with a member of the New Directions, and I seem to know nothing about them.
Considering me a member of the New Directions might be a little bit of a stretch. I know you've never heard me sing, but I can assure you that I'm a countertenor, and you probably guessed that based on my speaking voice. Which isn't an issue, but now there's a new countertenor, that Irish exchange student, who can also go low (which I can't) and is totally stealing my spotlight. He's taking over the Glee club, because Finn adores him and Rachel is more than happy to sing with him. He just got the lead in West Side Story over me, and it's only getting worse. Plus, Rachel and I are working towards trying out for the New York Academy for Dramatic Arts (NYADA), but we've run into the major issue that there are other people in the world that are just as talented and driven as we are and it's completely shaken both of our confidences, mine especially since Rory is just making life more difficult for me. Plus, we just got our competition bracket for Sectionals, and we're obviously going up against the Troubletones (a group of girls that are also here at McKinley) and the Unitards, whom I've never heard of before, but it's also the first time in *years* that we're competing in our own auditorium, and we're freaking out! ...Oh my gosh, I just talked at you for half a page. I'm so sorry.
It's okay. It's cute. *You're* cute. And who said I've never heard you sing? I'm very sneaky.
I should go, I have a room of suspicious students and Mr. Schuester is giving me that disapproving look which means he knows I'm texting but he's not going to call me on it because I'm a member of the New Directions. We'll talk next period?
Of course.
That was the first time he asked me about Glee, and one of the rare times he has since, plus he also revealed that he's been spying on me. I found out exactly when he had been spying on me much later.
Friday took forever to arrive, and came far too soon for my liking. I was ridiculously nervous about going on my first official date with Blaine, even though we had technically already been on one blind date, and many 'not-dates' since then. Those hadn't exactly ended up being anything like a real date with him (I hoped), so I had no idea what to expect. Blaine had decided against BreadstiX (once I told him the food really wasn't all that good. Apparently, he had never been there before) and we were going to a real restaurant in Dayton. Even the idea of the drive intimidated me, sitting in a car with him for over an hour. We hadn't spent a lot of face time together, and I was incredibly nervous that I was either going to become a complete idiot, run out of things to say and not be able to end the conversation with an excuse, or get distracted by the fact that my gorgeous boyfriend was sitting across from me.
"Hey," Blaine said brightly, smiling at me. We had agreed to meet at the school at five thirty so we would be guaranteed to be at the restaurant by our seven o'clock reservation, and we wouldn't have to deal with frustrating parents (or the fact that he lived in Westerville). He had probably just come from practice, but he had changed this time. It was the first time I had seen him out of a Cheerios uniform, and he looked good. He gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How was your day?"
"Fine," I replied, wiping my suddenly sweaty palms on my pants.
Blaine frowned a bit, but didn't let my unintentionally terse answer bother him. "Laconic. How's West Side Story going?" he asked as we got into his car, him holding the door open for me and me thanking him with a tight smile. "How many performances do you guys have left?"
"We wrapped up last Saturday," I replied as Blaine climbed in his side of the car and started the engine. "The show went really well. Rory and Rachel should be proud."
"How's Glee?" Blaine asked, and I felt bad that he was providing all the questions to create conversation, but I had no idea how to act on a date and suddenly couldn't think of anything to say except to answer... plus I was worried about sounding stupid, which I knew would happen if I let myself talk for too long. It was a silly feeling to have about a first date with someone who I had technically been 'seeing' for over three weeks, but I was nervous. Sue me.
"Fine. Mr. Schuester and Miss Corcoran announced today that we'll be having a New Directions versus Troubletones mash-up competition, which is an annual tradition, but I have a feeling that won't turn out particularly well because of the bad blood that caused the creation of the Troubletones in the first place," I rambled as Blaine pulled onto the highway.
"That should be... interesting," was all Blaine had to say in reply, and I felt so guilty he was carrying the conversation at this point, I actually got the nerve to speak up, staying with the safe topics.
"Maybe we should put on some music," I suggested, and I didn't even care that he put on WNCI 97.9. The pop music (and the first song had to be Katy Perry, didn't it?) filled the awkward silence. "How are the Cheerios?"
"Okay," Blaine said casually. "Santana's been kind of awful lately, but I think she's just stressed out. She's really taking the whole Glee thing hard, but I think there's something else going on with her." I always have the tendency to forget that there are some girls who choose to be both Cheerios and members of, well, the Troubletones now, but formerly the New Directions. Blaine probably just asked about Glee to be polite.
"There definitely is," was all I said in reply.
More silence, though considerably less awkward, followed my reply, until Blaine asked, "Kurt, is everything okay? You're acting rather... odd."
"I'm fine." Don't give me that look, Rachel. I was embarrassed to admit that I was nervous. I could almost guarantee that this wasn't Blaine's first date, and I know now that it definitely wasn't. Blaine, I figured, probably had done this a hundred times, and he would think I was silly for being nervous. He didn't, but we'll get there.
We continued to chat awkwardly for the rest of the ride to Dayton, Blaine trying to keep the conversation going for about the first half an hour and then giving up for the rest of the ride, content to sing along to the radio and occasionally glance over at me. I went to slide out of the car once we pulled up in front of the restaurant Blaine had picked out for us, but Blaine's hand on my arm stopped me.
"Wait," he said, as if that wasn't obvious from his motion. "We obviously need to talk." My throat closed up. I knew, logically, that Blaine wasn't breaking up with me, but those were perfect break-up words.
"About?" I asked, a little choked up, and Blaine smiled at me softly.
"How nervous you are," Blaine said with a little chuckle, which didn't make me feel much better. The humor dropped off his face. "Kurt, is this your first date?" I nodded, embarrassed, and then I further mortified myself when he reached over to cup my cheek and I jumped about a foot. He didn't react though. "Don't worry about it, okay? This is just like every other time we've met up. There's no reason to be nervous. I really like you, and even if this date is absolutely awful, I will still really like you, okay?" I nodded again, still at a loss for words, and Blaine leaned over to kiss my cheek. "Come on. Let's eat, I'm starved."
Blaine wasn't exaggerating, and he practically shoveled his food down, prompting me to mock his poor table manners teasingly. Once I had calmed down, our date was perfectly relaxed and fun. It was also the first time I got to see the proof of Charlie's words: Blaine really was an absolute sweetheart and genuinely nice.
"You're staring," Blaine said, breaking me out of my musings right after we ordered dessert. I had been wondering why this sweet Blaine was so, so different from the Blaine McKinley High was accustomed to, and what it would be like if Blaine treated everyone the way he treated me. I also wondered why I was so special, but those were insecurities I would let fester because I am an idiot... but more on that later.
"You look really nice," I said honestly, trying to ignore the fact that my face was heating up. Blaine smiled at me sweetly.
"Thank you, and you look ridiculously stunning as usual, but that's not what you were thinking. Believe it or not, we have spent enough time together that I recognize the difference between you staring because you want to and staring because you're zoned out. What are you thinking?" I was internally split between being pleased that Blaine knew me so well and a little annoyed that he could read me like a book.
"Just... in the car, you were... incredibly sweet," Blaine was the one blushing a little bit now, and it was completely adorable, "I was just wondering why you aren't like that all the time." I literally saw it when Blaine's face closed off. It was the emotional shut-out I had received so many times, but never in person.
"Because if I was like that all the time, my life would be miserable," Blaine said flatly, and the romantic, flirty edge to our conversation was completely gone.
"Blaine, I just meant-" I tried to fix my faux pas, but Blaine cut me off.
"I really don't want to talk about this," he said brusquely as the waitress brought over our desserts. For the entire dinner, this annoying waitress had been sticking her (barely-there) breasts in Blaine's face whenever she could, and he hadn't so much as acknowledged her presence until now. "Could you bring over the check?" he asked, and my stomach sunk. I had definitely messed up.
The drive home was a thousand times more tense than the drive there. When we arrived back at McKinley, Blaine parked one spot from my car, and I had a feeling it was pure, ingrained chivalry that prompted him to get out and open my door for me. He didn't say a word and I had nothing to say. "Goodnight, Kurt," he said sharply once he had shut the door behind me, and he walked back around to the driver's seat before I could even return the sentiment. I stood by my car and watched him drive away, wondering how horrible his past must be that even a mention of him being sweet made him close off.
A/N: I'm actually remembering to update this story weekly! Win! Anyway, don't you worry too much about these boys, Blaine knows that he gets a little... dramatic, and next chapter's really sweet, I promise :) I hope you guys are enjoying.
Song mentioned: 'Bad Luck' by Social Distortion
Reviews are Love.