Chapter 32: After Dark

SEBASTIAN

After his outburst while fighting with Artie in the kitchen, Sebastian headed out. To where, he wasn't quite sure. He just knew that he needed to clear his head. Alone.

He had already driven around for an hour after work– hence why his shift had ended at eight, but he hadn't made it home until well past ten– trying to make sense of all his thoughts on the trio situation before he had to go home and have that conversation with Artie. With his subconscious in control, Sebastian didn't know where he was driving until he got there.

Scandals.

Even while on autopilot, he knew the perfect remedy for his current situation.

He'd been somewhat of a regular at Scandals lately. Whether it was to take the edge off, or just whenever he found himself a little bored and lonely, Scandals was there for him when the people around him weren't– or when Seb couldn't bring himself to articulate his emotions to another human being in search of support. Naturally, Lima's only gay bar would also be the perfect place to head when he found himself angry at the world, like he was tonight.

He chased the high and giggles that alcohol brought him, the carefree state making him feel a little bit better and aiding in helping him forget about his problems, even if just for a few hours. That probably sounded pretty concerning and probably appeared more problematic than it actually was, but Sebastian didn't care. His drinking had never actually been a problem. Biologically, he was European, so he drank like one. But he was never irresponsible, never drove drunk, and always bribed a sibling to drop him off and pick him up. He'd driven himself tonight, but whatever. He'd just call a cab at the end of the night, then come back to get his car tomorrow.

The Scandals parking lot was dark when Sebastian pulled up, but he knew well enough to know that didn't necessarily mean that the bar would be empty. The neon sign was lit up, after all, welcoming in any lonely soul in need of consoling– or just those who fancied going out on a Monday night.

After pulling into a parking spot and turning off his car's ignition, Sebastian pulled his ice cream-stained polo off over his head, tossing it into the backseat of his car. He tugged on the rugby shirt he'd grabbed on his way out the door, popping his collar and messing with his hair in the rearview mirror before exiting the car and going inside with his fake ID in hand. Despite Sebastian's status as one of the bar's regulars, he had a feeling that the burly bouncer didn't really believe that he was pushing thirty, as his ID said, but was rather allowing him in as a sort of favor. Or, maybe, it was pity and he could just see right through Sebastian to his inner desperation.

He took a seat at the bar and ordered his first vodka soda of the night. Usually, he would dance a little bit, or play with one of the jukeboxes or pool tables, but not tonight. He wasn't in the mood. He couldn't stop his brain from thinking. Thinking about Artie. About their fight, about his friends, and about how Sebastian had only wanted to help. He hadn't meant for things to wind up the way they had. That was Sebastian's problem: he thought too much. He felt too much.

Sebastian downed his drink in a single sip as if he were taking a shot, eager to get the alcohol into his system and feel its effects.

"Whoa," the bartender– a man in his thirties wearing a flannel over a white ribbed tanktop– commented as Sebastian slammed his glass down on the countertop. "Rough day out there, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah, something like that," Sebastian mumbled.

"Guy problems?"

"Not exactly."

"Just a tough day, then."

Sebastian shrugged.

"Been there," the bartender assured him. "You look like you could use another."

Sebastian nodded, pushing the now-empty glass toward him, but keeping the cocktail straw to chew on in the meantime. He silently watched on as the bartender poured the Tito's in first before filling up the rest of the glass with soda water from the fountain, sticking a lime slice on the rim.

"There you go," the bartender said, handing Sebastian back his drink. "I made it a double. Seems like you may need it." Sebastian nodded, and when he tried to hand over his card to add this one to his tab, the bartender shook his head. "This one's on the house."

Sebastian flashed him an appreciative, tight-lipped smile as he accepted the drink. After taking a sip, Sebastian slumped over, his elbow resting on the sticky bar counter. Normally, he tried to avoid touching that surface at all costs, but with all that had happened today, tonight was one of the very rare occasions where he just didn't care. Seb stared into his drink between sips, watching the bubbles float from the bottom up to the surface before popping.

"I'll take a beer, please. The biggest bottle you've got," a familiar voice said, causing Sebastian to furrow his eyebrows together. At first, Sebastian thought his ears were playing tricks on him, but sure enough, when he glanced up, Blaine Anderson was sinking onto the barstool beside him.

He was still dressed in what he'd been wearing this afternoon at the ice cream shop– cropped chinos, a navy and white striped polo shirt, and one of his signature bowties. Per usual, Blaine's hair was rock-solid, held firmly in place by copious amounts of hair gel. He looked ridiculous.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Sam and Tina tonight?" Sebastian commented bitterly. "You know, hanging out just you three?" It was taking an exorbitant amount of self-control on Sebastian's end not to say more than that. Artie would wind up more angry with him than he already was. Couldn't have that.

"I was with them," Blaine replied, handing the bartender a wad of cash and motioning for him to keep the bottles coming. He didn't even seem bothered by Sebastian's tone of resentment. Maybe he didn't even notice it. He seemed to have his own issues on his mind. "We were at Tina's. We were hanging out, but we all had different ideas for how to spend the night. Tina wanted to drive around and listen to music and go pick up takeout somewhere, and Sam wanted to play video games. But Tina doesn't have an Xbox, so he wanted us all to go back to his place. So, I suggested we should compromise and pick up takeout on the way to Sam's, and then everyone would be happy."

Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced away, trying to non-verbally express his extreme disinterest in this conversation. Nowhere had he asked Blaine for a play-by-play of his night. Sebastian hadn't even been involved in the plans, and they'd somehow wound up ruining his night as well. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck listening to helmet-haired, bowtie-loving Blaine blab on about them. He was beginning to regret saying anything to Blaine at all. He should have just ignored him.

"But then Kurt called," Blaine told him, finally getting to the point. "He said he wanted to talk to me, so I left Sam and Tina to figure it out on their own and went to Kurt's house. And then, ready for this? He talked it over with his dad, and he's going to move to New York City. At the end of August. Can you believe that?"

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. Last he'd heard, Kurt had been rejected from the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, where Rachel was headed. Kurt Hummel had never struck Seb as the spontaneous type of guy, so surely he must have made a plan before committing to a drastic life change like that. "Is he going to school there? What does he plan on doing?"

"Nope." Blaine took a swig of his beer. "He says he's just going to 'figure it out when he gets there'." Blaine had set his bottle down on the bar so that he could form his fingers into air quotes.

"Seems like an expensive place to be figuring things out," was all Sebastian replied.

"That's what I said!" Blaine exclaimed. "But I guess his mind has already been made up. He says he doesn't want to be hanging around Lima like a bum while everyone else in his year is off working or going to school, which, I mean, of course I get that." Blaine sighed. "I'm just… I guess I'm just a little depressed about the fact that I thought we'd have another year to spend together. You know? I'd be leading the New Directions, and he would maybe come visit McKinley a few times a week and maybe even be some sort of assistant to Mr. Schue."

That sounds awful, Sebastian thought to himself, but didn't dare say so out loud. I mean, who can blame Kurt for wanting to get out of here? Why would he want to lurk around the halls of McKinley like one of those straight, ex-football players desperately trying to cling to the past?

"I thought we'd get to spend the year here, then we'd both get into NYADA and go off to New York together," Blaine continued. "We'd get a little apartment in SoHo, decorated with furniture and artwork we found at flea markets and in the cute little shops, maybe a cat… But now we're going to have to do long distance, and I'm worried that may be too difficult. What if we're not made for something like that? What if we're just one of those juvenile, high school relationships, destined to break up once we are faced with the realities of the real world?!"

Blaine was close to hyperventilating by now, and Sebastian caught the bartender's eye and motioned for another drink. He wasn't nearly drunk enough to deal with this. He'd never been great at consoling people, so these conversations really weren't his favorite. Artie was a much better support system and advice giver than he was, so Sebastian thought that Blaine ought to have sought him out for this kind of conversation instead. If only he hadn't iced Artie out all summer…

"Maybe… what's the saying?" Sebastian asked him, giving his best attempt at being supportive. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

"I don't know," Blaine replied, looking wary. "I don't think I've ever told you this, but we've had some… infidelity issues… in the past. Emotional cheating." Blaine lowered his tone dramatically at that last part. "We got through it, but I'm worried about what will happen when we're so far away, living such separate lives, you know? He's living his best life in NYC, and I'll be… here. I'll have Glee Club, the fall musical, and my college applications to keep me occupied, but what if I'm too busy to make a monthly trip out to see him? Or, worse, what if I don't get into NYADA at all?! I mean, that is a possibility! Kurt's the most talented guy I know, and if he didn't get in, what hope is there for the rest of us?!"

Blaine and Seb still weren't close by any means, but based on the way that the other guy had just dumped even his most vulnerable of emotions out on Sebastian, he thought it was safe to assume that Blaine didn't hold much animosity toward him for the rock salt slushie incident anymore. It felt good to know that they'd officially put that behind them.

Sebastian also realized something he hadn't thought very much about before this moment. It seemed as though everyone– even confident, stupidly talented Blaine Anderson– was already thinking ahead to college and worrying about the future. Up until now, Sebastian had just assumed that was an Artie-ism, being way over-prepared and anxious about all of that. But now, Sebastian– who was already struggling with his plans for the future in more ways than one– was left feeling very, very behind.

"Okay, now enough about me," Blaine said, as if he hadn't been the one to make their conversation all about him in the first place. "How are things with you? Warbler Camp must be coming up soon, yeah?"

Sebastian nodded.

"I thought so," replied Blaine. "Trent was talking about it. That's gotta be pretty fun. The days are long, but it's such a great way to bond with your teammates. I tried to implement something similar when I joined the New Directions– nothing too intense, just a bit of teambuilding exercises and things like that– but Finn told me I was being 'too controlling', and Kurt told me that I 'can't just come in here and run things like The Warblers', and that 'the New Directions do things differently'." He shrugged. "Whatever. Their loss. Maybe, since I plan to step into Rachel's shoes as the leader of the New Directions this year, I can try throwing the idea out there again and see if it sticks."

"Yeah, well, I've actually been meaning to ask…" (This may have been the three vodka sodas talking because Sebastian had sworn to himself that he wouldn't tell anyone about the conflicting feelings we was experiencing on this topic.) "I was kind of wondering how you knew that transferring to McKinley was the right decision? Or, like, if you have any regrets?"

"Are you thinking of leaving Dalton?" Blaine asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

Sebastian shrugged.

"Well, I transferred to be closer to Kurt, as you know," Blaine told him. "And, as you also know, the New Directions can be quite the cliquey bunch, in their own little way. They didn't immediately welcome me at first– especially Finn and Sam. I had a lot to prove. Eventually, they came around, and I can't say that I regret leaving Dalton. Even though I do miss the guys over there a whole lot.

Sebastian nodded, chewing on his lower lip. It seemed like he had a lot to think about.

"Does Artie know that you've been thinking about this?"

"Uh, no. He doesn't," Sebastian answered. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything."

Blaine nodded his understanding, and Sebastian was fairly certain he'd keep his word.

Sebastian sipped on his drink in silence as Blaine did the same from the barstool beside him. That had been an awful lot of emotional dumping coming from the both of them; Sebastian hadn't been prepared.

"I just can't stop thinking about it," Blaine said, his mouth fixed in a frown– something unequivocally rare for the generally cheery former Warbler.

"Huh?" Seb asked, only half paying attention.

"Kurt!" Blaine wailed, throwing his hands up in the air as if the answer should have been obvious from the start. "I'm going crazy worrying about him being in the big city all alone. Did you know that hate crimes in America keep decreasing, but in New York, they're actually increasing?"

"I… didn't know that."

"Well, it's true," he insisted. "A few ignorant idiots hate the idea that we're finally being accepted. They hate the fact that we're marrying, they hate the fact that we're moving into neighborhoods that are supposedly 'straight'. So they lash out and try to kill us. Google 'gay bashing in New York City', and you'll see a whole bunch of stories where people were just minding their own business coming home from work and get beat up by these close-minded, backward monsters."

Having finished his drink, Sebastian pushed it away from himself. Blaine's words had put a bad taste in his mouth. Seb had always assumed that New York City was some safe haven for anyone a little bit different. Surely in a city of eight million people, no one person could stand out that much. At least, that was how he'd always seen it marketed. Hearing the facts Blaine shared shocked Sebastian, making his stomach turn over uneasily. As far as schools go, New York wasn't on his radar too much, but he happened to know it's at the forefront of Artie's mind. If gay people had to fear for their safety, then, well, what about disabled people? The last thing he wanted to worry about was Artie getting mugged or something. Was New York City safe for any kind of minority?

"And where's Kurt going to live?" Blaine wondered aloud. "In a safe neighborhood, I hope. What's he going to do all day? He won't be in school, he doesn't have a job. If he were staying here in Lima, he'd have me! He'd have the support of all of us in Glee Club!"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. That was the thing with all of these New Directions kids– they cared far too deeply about the happenings of their high school show choir. Artie was guilty of it, too. It was sad, really. To an outsider, it looked like they all assumed that their life's peak was traveling to Chicago (via bus!) and winning a trophy for singing a Meat Loaf song. Sebastian thought it to be utterly deplorable. If they kept thinking that way– especially post-graduation– they'd all be stuck in Lima, Ohio forever. Yeesh. Sebastian loved being Head Warbler, but he'd never considered the acapella group to be his whole life. These McKinley kids needed to get a grip.

"I'm sure Lady Face will be fine," Sebastian said. "He'll find a job working as the city's top Barbara Bush impersonator. Or as a birthday clown."

While he could sympathize with the other guy about all that was going on between him and Kurt, Sebastian's patience for hearing any more about this topic was wearing thin.

After hearing Blaine (his former-slash-sometimes-current crush) go on and on about his boyfriend, Sebastian had reached his limit. This night out was supposed to take his mind off of everything. Artie's annoyance with him, his loneliness, his complete and total lack of a love life… But after hearing how much Blaine loved and worried about Kurt, Seb only felt worse.

Readjusting his point of view, Sebastian forced himself to remember what had lured him to Scandals in the first place– aside from the flowing alcohol, that is. He needed to hook up with someone. That was possibly the only way he could forget about all that was currently plaguing him.

Even though Sebastian had spent much of the night wallowing in self-pity at the bar, his back to the dance floor, there was somebody who he'd been keeping in his peripheral vision all night. He had wavy blonde hair, muscular arms that Sebastian could see clearly through the tight-fitting Nike shirt he was wearing, and a round ass that Seb couldn't keep his eyes off of. Seb guessed that the other guy was a year or two older than he was– also likely under the legal drinking age. Glancing over his shoulder, Sebastian watched him dance like a fool to the music, evidently not knowing that anyone was watching him, or just not caring. It didn't look like he'd come to the bar with anyone in particular. That was a good sign.

Sebastian wondered if this would be like one of the countless other times he'd met the man of his dreams out on the dance floor at Scandals, only for them to 'break up' twenty minutes later (or at closing time, whichever came first). He could only hope.

Lost in his thoughts as he watched the other guy from across the bar, Sebastian came to just as he noticed the object of his curious affection looking his way, too.

Now, for Sebastian's favorite little game: how to see if the other guy is as equally into him.

Step one: eye contact. Check.

Step two: break said eye contact, and count to three in your head. When the three seconds are up, if they're still looking, that means they're interested.

One… two… three.

As nonchalantly as possible, Sebastian glanced back over his shoulder. Their eyes met. Butterflies swarmed in Sebastian's stomach.

Step three: have a quick chat– nothing too personal– then you take him home, or you go with him. Easy as that.

"I'll take a shot of tequila, then close it please," Seb told the bartender, who obliged. Sebastian quickly threw back the tequila, wincing at its sharp taste as he tipped generously and signed his name on the receipt.

"Alright, Blainer," Sebastian said, rising from his barstool and clapping Blaine on the shoulder. "This has been so much fun, but I've gotta run. I'll see you when I see you."

He didn't even wait for a response from bummed-out Blaine before sauntering over to where the other guy was still tearing up the dance floor, mixed drink in hand. Standing in front of him now, the other guy looked surprised to see him, but also pleased.

"Hey," the stranger greeted him, a smirk present on his face, like he'd gotten what he wanted without having to lift a finger.

"Hi," Sebastian said back.

"I haven't seen you here before," Blonde Guy said over the music, looking Sebastian up and down in a way that made him feel admired, rather than ogled. "You new?"

Sebastian shook his head. "You must not be looking in the right places."

"What's your name?"

"Does it matter?"

Blonde Guy smiled at Sebastian's bluntness, showing off his perfectly straight, stunningly white teeth. There were those damn butterflies again.

"No, I guess it doesn't."