Author's Note: Oh my God, sorry about the wait guys. This week was hell with tests and quizzes to study for. But I come bearing gifts! An update! Yay!

It's a short one, but you'll realize why I ended it where I did. Happy Reading everybody!

Again, no beta. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing, nothing. No profit made etc. See Chapter 1 for more elaborate disclaimer.

~C.

(Chapter 6)

Blaine smiled to himself when he realized that Kurt's eyes had been watching him for the past three performances. He'd always been courteous to the other performers who'd put themselves out there and sang on stage. Tonight hadn't been any different. As much as Blaine had wanted to walk right on over to the beautiful, pale looking young man, he held back for a respectful amount of time.

Don't want to seem too eager.

…

Screw it; I was never one for patience anyways.

Turning his body, Blaine's eyes lit up when they landed on Kurt. With each step he took, he could feel himself getting even more determined and even more resolute. Maybe this boy didn't have to know about the lie he lived, how when his friends were around he was expected to be grungy and pierced, or how the relationship he kept trying so hard to get rid of always barged into his home unannounced. Blaine didn't know what or where he wanted things to go with the young man from the apartment across from his own, but he did know that he needed to reach out to someone, anyone, before it was too late. Before there was no more Blaine to try and get to know or to preserve, just the hollow shell his 'friends' were unknowingly twisting him into becoming.

"Oof!" Blaine had been so preoccupied with the whirling of possibilities in his mind that he hadn't even been watching where he was going. His stout frame rammed into a thinner one and they both let out tuffs of air when their forms collided.

"What the…Blaine! You're here, this is great!" David smiled at him happily.

"D-David? Wh-What are you doing here?" Blaine didn't want David here. He didn't want anyone that had anything to do with 'Pav's Last Song' here. This was his haven, his home away from home. It wasn't one of the places where he had to put on some sex-appealing, rocker persona. He could be himself here, dammit!

"I told you earlier that I had a meeting with a bar owner. I just got done hashing some details out with Noah Puckerman." David declared, he was proud of his managerial accomplishment.

Blaine bit his lip to keep it from quivering, thankful for the dim lighting so David wouldn't be able to see the beginnings of tears sting his eyes.

No…

David smiled wide, "Puck agreed to give you guys a shot. He's going to drop by the loft and watch the band practice. If he likes what you guys can do, he's going to give us a gig. Puck and his co-owner have regular, live, band performances in this club. If this works out, 'Pav's Last Song' just might have found a place for steady performances."

But why did it have to be here?

David was shaking Blaine's arm "We need to have an emergency band meeting RIGHT NOW! Everyone's gonna want to know about this! Let's go!" David was pulling Blaine by the arm across the club.

"No, wait! Just let me…I was going to…David just wait a minute!" Blaine tried to tug out of the strong, determined hold, but it was no use. When David had his mind set on something, it was pretty useless to try and jar him from it.

"No time! Come on, Blaine why aren't you more excited about this? This is what we all wanted." David inquired.

Because this is LAST place I wanted this to happen at.

Blaine glanced back over his shoulder while his body was pulled out of the club. The pale boy was still seated on his barstool and staring at Blaine in a daze. Kurt's face was the last thing Blaine saw before the door to the club closed behind him.

Why did I ever think I could do something just for myself?

Kurt held on to the bar countertop with a white knuckled grip as he tried to focus his gaze on the man now known as Blaine. As the time passed, he'd found his sight beginning to become less focused and his vision beginning to take on a fish-lens type of view. Everything had become fuzzy and the only thing that kept him grounded was the fact that he was trying to remain collected for the heavenly singer he'd hoped to introduce himself to.

Wha…wha in the…h-how fuckin' drunk…m'I?

All Kurt was able to see were dark figures bustling around him, while Blaine was the only semi-focusable one in his sights. People became faceless, colors blended together in the most hypnotic way, and voices seemed as if they were underwater. Anytime Kurt turned his head or tried to focus elsewhere, his eyes wouldn't be able to register the new picture and gave Kurt an uneasy feeling in his stomach as vertigo swept him. His steady grip on the countertop the only thing keeping him from falling face-first into the linoleum floor.

Puck…h-how mu-much bu-booze…d-did put…in m'dr-drink?

Even his thoughts slurred together, he only had that one drink and a shot. Kurt had never been a lightweight before. How could one drink get him to be this plastered? No, no, he was past plastered; he felt absolutely shit-faced.

What's wr-wrong with me?

Suddenly, the person that Kurt's eyes had been riveted to, shot out of his vision and across the floor. It looked like he was being pulled out by someone else, but he couldn't be certain. Kurt had that uneasy feeling in his stomach as he tried to follow Blaine with his eyes. For a split second, Kurt thought they made eye contact. He could almost register desperation in the other's eyes before the door swung closed and broke the connection immediately.

Ba-Blaine?

Kurt groaned, without a focal point to distract him everything seemed to heighten around him. The broken noises became louder; the figures swam across his vision in a more disorientating manner, and the churning in his stomach made him even more nauseous than before.

Oh God, gonna barf.

Kurt got up from his barstool as fast as he could, but due to his legs feeling jelly-like, he stumbled into the man next to him. "Whoa, there. Someone drink a bit more than they could handle?"

The disoriented boy looked up, but closed his eyes against the dizzying movement. "S-sorry." He slurred out. Kurt, not hearing the other's response, just pushed past the man and stumbled his way to one of the walls. He knew there was a bathroom here somewhere along that wall; at this point, he didn't even care if he went into the woman's. He just needed to find a sink, a bathroom, a trashcan, anything!

P-Please…where's it?

Kurt finally felt the wall shift away from him; it was a swinging door opening into a bathroom. The nauseous boy fell in and had to blink blearily as the brighter lights hurt his eyes. On his hands and knees, Kurt crawled across the floor to where he saw tall, dark, square things. He assumed them to be stalls and wasted no time in drunkenly scraping his way towards them.

Just lil…farther.

Slamming his palm against one of the stall doors, he opened it and crawled up to the porcelain bowl. Huh…decently clean, thank heavens. Though, once Kurt got started heaving into the bowl, it wouldn't be in the same condition. Kurt felt tears sting his eyes as the retching burned his throat and sent him into dry heaves.

Kill me now.

Kurt spit one last time into the bowl before flushing it; he sat back on his haunches and put his hands out against the sides to steady himself. His mouth tasted vile and the acidic burn still tingled in the back of his throat. There was a reason Kurt wasn't one of those people who partied every night and got so drunk that they'd end up flushing their seven dollar drinks down the drain a few hours later. The crashing after the buzz of alcohol was never worth it to him. He was a social drinker, just one or two at the most and nothing more. He'd learned his lesson in high school.

Haven't…f-felt this bad…s-since th-threw up…Ms. Pi-Pillsburry's shoes.

Groaning, Kurt continued to crawl out of the stall. He felt a little better after ridding his stomach of its contents, but all he really wanted to do now was crawl under some covers and forget this drunken humiliation. Reaching for the sink, he grasped the edge and hauled himself up onto his weakened legs.

M'look…crap.

Kurt put a palm over his reflection in the mirror and took a deep breath through his nose. His forehead was beading with perspiration; his skin was no longer porcelain looking but a sick pasty color, and his eyes were hidden beneath half-lidded eyelids. Kurt blindly turned the faucet on and wasted no time in sticking his head under it to swish water around in his mouth. After he rid himself of the awful taste, he took a few gulps of water as well. He ripped off a paper towel from a nearby dispenser and wet it before patting it over his face. The napkin warmed under his unusually heated skin and Kurt moaned thankfully into the wet paper towel.

Home…just home.

Throwing the paper towel in some general direction, Kurt trudged towards the bathroom exit. He was determined to hail a cab, get back to Rachel's apartment, and collapse onto some sort of soft surface. However, just as Kurt was about to put his hands up to push through the door, it forcefully swung open. Due to Kurt's slowed reflexes at the moment, he didn't have the ability to react and put his hands up in protection. The door smacked Kurt in the face and propelled his body the other way. He stumbled backwards for a few steps, and then the heel of his sneaker squelched on the sopping wet paper towel against the linoleum tiles. The foot slipped out from under him, Kurt's body falling backwards. A sharp pain went through the back of Kurt's skull as it cracked against the porcelain sink.

Everything went black.

A/N: Hmmm...interesting. Share your thoughts about this chapter in review, please?