(500) Days of Blaine, Part 4/5
Author: jjjjordo
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Summary: Written for gleeatthemoviesgleeatthemovies,
Kurt Hummel of Lima, Ohio, grew up believing that he’d never truly be happy until he met his soulmate, thanks to hours of Disney movies and romantic Broadway musicals. The other boy, Blaine Anderson of Westerville, Ohio, did not share this belief. Since the disintegration of his parents’ marriage, he’d believed that love didn’t exist. Kurt meets Blaine on January 8th in a New York office building. In an instant, he will know that Blaine’s the one he’s been looking for. But before they meet, you should know up front that this is not a love story.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Glee or (500) Days of Summer.
Spoilers: None for Glee, but the entire plot of (500) Days of Summer is completely spoiled. Direct lines from the movie are used frequently.
Warning: Some sexual themes and mild language.
MASTERPOST CAN BE FOUND HERE.
402.
Kurt really didn’t want to go to Santana’s wedding, he really didn’t. He loved her (and her fiancée Brittany, of course), he really did, but the last thing he wanted to do was build up more work at the office that he would have to do at a later time. He was behind as it was, with his mood, and he really didn’t need anything else on his plate. However, Finn had promised to bear it with him, so he’d grudgingly asked Mr. Schuester for a couple of days off to attend the wedding.
Santana was having it at her parents’ house in New Jersey, which required a long and boring train ride on Kurt’s part, which was supposed to be filled with light chatter with Finn. But when Kurt stepped on the train and Finn wasn’t there, he got a little worried, so he called.
“Hey, man!” Finn chirped upon answering, a little too cheery.
“Hey, are you here?” Kurt asked. He kept looking as he walked down the aisle to see if he’d missed Finn, which seemed a little impossible with his abnormal height and all.
“Hell no.” Finn said.
“What do you mean hell no?” Kurt said.
“I mean I’m not going to that.” Finn said.
“Yes you are,” Kurt insisted.
“No, man, it’s gonna be all lesbians and crazy Hispanic people.” Finn said in a hushed tone.
“I’m going to ignore the fact that that was extremely offensive,” Kurt said through clenched teeth, “To bring up the fact that you promised me you’d go. That’s the only reason I’m going. I mean, I love weddings and all, but I’m kind of busy as it is.”
“Well, I called Santana last night and told her I was sick. Like a ninja.” Finn said. Kurt could hear the smirk in his voice, and he nearly started full-on yelling.
“I’m not gonna know anybody at this thing!” Kurt groaned.
“Maybe she has a hot gay friend or something,” Finn said.
Kurt didn’t even say anything before hanging up. He bit his lip to keep from screaming in frustration and continued to move down the aisle of the train, tuxedo slung over his shoulder and satchel over his shoulder. He was looking for an empty row, and almost didn’t notice Blaine. That is, he didn’t notice Blaine until a few seconds later. He found an empty row and plopped down before looking back to make sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
Sure enough, Blaine was sitting there calmly. He had headphones in, and seemed to be murmuring the words to whatever he was listening to. Kurt whipped his head back around and thought about what to do. He hadn’t spoken with Blaine in person in what seemed like forever, and he didn’t even know what he was supposed to say. Were they friends? Were they even considered each others’ exes, though whatever they had wasn’t even a typical relationship.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Blaine get up from his seat, so he quickly put his satchel on the empty seat nest to him, threw off his headphones, and pulled out one of the books he’d brought so that he’d look like he had been doing something productive, and not like he’d been debating whether to go over and say hello to Blaine or not.
“Hi Kurt,” Blaine said. Kurt looked up to see Blaine, just as handsome as he’d remembered, standing before him and grinning like nothing out of the ordinary had even happened between them.
“Hey…Blaine!” Kurt said casually, as if he didn’t remember Blaine for a second. “I must have walked right by you.”
“Yeah,” Blaine agreed with a nod.
“What are you doing here?” Kurt asked. “Are you going to Santana’s?”
Blaine nodded. “Me too,” Kurt said. “I forgot you knew her.”
“Yeah,” Blaine said, “We worked together all that time, so…”
“Of course,” Kurt said, hating the awkwardness of the conversation.
“She can be a bit mean sometimes, but I love her. She’s great.” Blaine said.
“She is.” Kurt agreed.
“How are you?” Blaine asked.
Shitty, Kurt wanted to say, absolutely shitty.
“Good,” he said.
“Good,” Blaine said with a warm smile. “I wrote to you, but I never heard back.”
“Yeah,” Kurt said, though he knew. He’d ignored all of Blaine’s e-mails after the ‘I hope we can still be friends’ crap came up. “Yeah, sorry about that. I just got…you know…it got kind of crazy, with the holidays and stuff.”
“Are you still working with greeting cards?” Blaine asked.
“Yep,” Kurt said.
“Well, I was gonna go get a coffee, if you’d like to…” Blaine trailed off before noticing the book in Kurt’s hands.
“Fashion in the Early 21st Century,” He read with a nod.
“Yeah,” Kurt said with a shrug, “It’s-“
“It looks like a good book.” Blaine interrupted.
Kurt nodded, and they once again fell into silence.
“Well, I don’t want to bother you.” Blaine apologized, starting to turn around.
“No, you’re fine,” Kurt insisted, standing to join him, “Let’s go get coffee.”
The train ride really wasn’t all that bad, once they sat down with their coffee (grande nonfat mocha and a medium drip, of course) in the dining car. They talked about everything they hadn’t talked about when they were together, and even some things they’d discussed at length when curled up together on the other’s bed or tucked into a neat corner of their favorite coffee shop. Kurt couldn’t help but feel like things were normal again; Blaine was smiling and laughing and nearly touching his hands. Maybe they’d just had a little scuffle, and Blaine was ready to get back together again.
The wedding the next day was great, of course. Blaine’s suit was sleek and Kurt didn’t hesitate to tell him, receiving a shower of compliments from Blaine when he did so. They sat next to each other (which turned out to be a mistake at first, when Blaine tried to convince Kurt to play the Penis Game with him before the ceremony started) and Kurt noticed a raised eyebrow from Santana during the ceremony itself when she saw them too. He just ignored her.
The ceremony was very simple, yet it had the Santana-esque flair to it that Kurt absolutely adored, plus Brittany’s plain elegance that Kurt had always envied since he met her at one of Santana’s infamous Christmas parties. Those in attendance seemed to be pleased with the ceremony as well.
The reception was equally lovely. Kurt spent most of it sipping champagne (and expensive champagne at that, Kurt seriously considered swiping a bottle and bringing it home with him, as he hadn’t had champagne so fine since Rachel’s wedding) and laughing with Blaine. He tried not to cringe too much when younger guests laughed too loudly and ran around the reception like a pack of wild animals. Blaine seemed to love them, though, and his face lit up whenever he watched them, so Kurt pretended not to be terribly irked.
Then, Blaine brought up the subject of minor flaws and insecurities, and Kurt absolutely couldn’t resist.
“Okay, what else?” Blaine asked, wide-eyed. He was genuinely surprised at some of the habits he had that he didn’t even know of.
“You snore.” Kurt said with a smirk.
“No, I don’t.” Blaine insisted.
“You do,” Kurt countered.
“I do not!”
“Yes, yes you do.”
“Well, you do too!” Blaine huffed. Kurt laughed. “Oh, I definitely do.” He said.
“Your feet smell so bad.” Blaine said.
“That was one time,” Kurt grumbled, “And it was because I left my foot cream in my day bag instead of my bathroom.”
“No, it’s happened a lot more than that.” Blaine said, shaking his head.
“That one time!” Kurt said.
“That one time especially, but it’s happened more than that.” Blaine said. “And when you wake up, your hair sticks straight up and it’s really cute, but ridiculous. You look like an extra in a Lady Gaga music video.”
“First of all, that’s a compliment,” Kurt said, jabbing Blaine with his index finger, “And secondly, you’re ridiculous. Who wears bow ties on a nearly daily basis?”
“Hey, I can rock a bow tie.” Blaine said. Kurt just rolled his eyes and sipped at a glass of white wine he’d been brought.
Blaine just looked at him with that goofy grin on his face and Kurt couldn’t help but melt a little bit inside. He tried not to think too much when Blaine caught Santana’s bouquet, though it was completely by accident, as she threw it way over the crowd of eager women and into the gaggle of their husbands and boyfriends. At least, Kurt knew it was an accident on Blaine’s part; he was pretty sure that had Santana wanted to throw her bouquet to another woman, she would have.
Shots and slow dances followed, the two nearly holding each other like they used to, swaying with the music in an all-too-familiar step.
“Hey, I was wondering if…I was maybe gonna have a party on Friday on our rooftop. It has this really cool garden and stuff, if you wanna come.” Blaine said as they shuffled slowly back and forth with the slow song playing.
“Yeah, I’d love to!” Kurt said, trying not to look too enthusiastic about it.
“If you’re not busy, that is.” Blaine added.
“I don’t think I will be.” Kurt said. They both laughed, and everything felt right again. The only things over their heads were strings of lights, providing a yellowish glow to the dark, warm spring night. A soft wind blew, not terribly cold, but cold enough for both men to move in a little closer to each other to keep warm. Things were finally falling back into place for Kurt and Blaine.
Kurt thought about this on the way home, while Blaine slept next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow and his jacket as a blanket. He looked like a small child, curled up and sleeping peacefully.
***
Kurt had been thinking a lot since the wedding, and he’d come to the conclusion that Blaine was ready to get back together with him. After all, he’d been practically hanging all over him, and they had talked the whole time, and it had felt to Kurt like the spark was still there. He had high expectations for this party.
He’d brought a gift, Fashion in the Early 21st Century, because Blaine had looked interested in it when they were on the train to New Jersey.
Kurt entered the apartment, sure that his expectations for the seemingly promising night would align with his reality.
He expected to be greeted warmly at the door by a bubbly Blaine, perhaps with a kiss (preferably on the lips, but the cheek wouldn’t be half bad either) and a compliment on his outfit, which he had meticulously arranged the day previous. Instead, he was greeted by an equally bubbly Blaine, but with a friendly, short hug and an inquiry as to how he was doing, to which he answered simply “good.”
He handed Blaine the gift, saying “I got you something,” to which Blaine responded “That’s so nice!” He expected Blaine to tear off the paper giddily and sigh in content when he saw the book. He’d expected a warm hug and a “thank you.” In the end, he did get his “thank you,” right after his “Oh, you shouldn’t have! I’m so excited to read it.” and before the nearly cold pat on the shoulder he received.
He’d expected Blaine to, once leading him to the party, sit everyone down for a nice meal, where the other guests wouldn’t really matter because Kurt was the only one Blaine had eyes for. However, Kurt soon found out that the party was more of a casual gathering, where alcohol was in everyone’s hand, but the party itself was very relaxed. He sat in a small group of Blaine’s other friends, Blaine sitting slightly off to the side.
“So, Kurt, what is it that you do?” a lady asked.
“I write greeting cards.” Kurt said.
“Kurt could be a really great fashion designer if he wanted to be.” Blaine pointed out from the side.
“That’s unusual,” the lady remarked, “Well, what made you go from one to the other.”
“Well, I guess I just figured,” Kurt said, “Why make something as overproduced and cheap as clothing, when I could make something as unique and one-of-a-kind as a greeting card?”
The group laughed politely, but Blaine’s smile looked far too forced for Kurt’s liking. He just gave up after a second and sipped at his drink.
He ended up looking out over Blaine’s rooftop (which provided a pretty crappy view, despite Blaine’s protests that the view was “splendid”) and sipping a beer alone.
He’d expected his alone time with Blaine to slowly move inside again, where they’d slowly venture to the bedroom, away from all of the guests and the chatter ad music, so that it would once again be the two of them, Kurt and Blaine…
Instead, he stared from a distance at Blaine showing a female friend the ring on his ring finger, sparkling and gleaming evilly in the light provided by the sunset. Blaine had a huge grin on his face, and he was chatting animatedly with the friend, laughing every once in a while and doing far too much smiling and looking happy.
Kurt left after that, he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d always hated crying in front of people.
***
440-441.
After that, the next couple of days were basically the same, and everything Kurt did blended into the next thing, to the point where he felt like he was barely living at all. At one point, he became so depressed that he walked to the nearest convenience store (in his pajamas, slippers, and a bathrobe, no less) and bought the store’s entire supply of Twinkies, as well as some whiskey and orange juice. On a normal day, he would have looked at Twinkies in horror, but he really needed some empty calories. He ignored the disturbed look of the cashier and shuffled out onto the street to make the quick journey home. He knew he looked like absolute shit, having not even bothered to brush his hair or wash his face, but he couldn’t have cared less.
“Get a room!” Kurt snapped at a young and happy-looking couple that walked past him, smiling at each other and holding hands.
***
442.
He woke up the next morning with yet another massive headache from the over-consumption of alcohol and disgusting, fattening snack cakes. This time, though, he actually had to suffer through work.
“I’ve been calling you every five minutes,” Finn complained as he slowly took his seat at his desk, wincing at everyone’s loud chatter. But maybe that was just his hangover starting to kick in. “Where have you been? Are you okay?”
“I’m great,” Kurt said.
“What happened to you?” Finn asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kurt mumbled.
“What? You always want to talk about it,” Finn said.
“Not this time.” Kurt snapped.
“Well come on, let’s go.” Finn said, rushing past him and towards the stairs, where everyone else seemed to be headed.
“Where are we going?” Kurt asked.
“It’s Thursday,” Finn said, annoyed, “Staff meeting.”
He kept walking and Kurt mumbled “oh,” before getting up slowly and trying to catch up with him.
“This one says ‘go for it,’” Brittany (Lopez now, since her recent marriage to Santana), who had just been hired a couple of weeks before per Santana’s recommendation, said softly, pointing to a blown-up picture of a cat, before pointing to another on her other side, “And this one says, ‘you can do it!’ We have a whole line of inspirational photographic cards featuring Lord Tubbington, my cat. I think people will really enjoy them. Thank you.”
“Good job, Brittany. That’s inspirational stuff.” Mr. Schuester said politely. Brittany nodded and took a seat next to Santana, who patted her arm and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Okay, who’s next?” he continued, clapping his hands together. He then looked pointedly at Kurt, who was staring at the two pictures of the cats intently and thinking, “We haven’t heard from Sympathy in a while…Mr. Hummel?”
“Yeah?” Kurt asked, head whipping around.
“The winter collection? Do you have anything to contribute?” Mr. Schuester prompted.
“No, I really don’t.” Kurt said simply, turning back to the cat pictures.
“That’s okay, we’ll come back to you.” Mr. Schuester said. “Finn, do you have anything?”
Before Finn could start, though, Kurt started speaking again. “Actually he said, pointing in the general direction of the cat images and looking at Mr. Schuester, “You know what? Can I say something about the cat?”
“Well, okay.” He said hesitantly.
“Uh this is…and, Brittany, no disrespect here, but…this is total shit.” Kurt said bluntly.
“Kurt,” Finn warned, but Kurt kept going.
“I mean, ‘Go for it?’ ‘You can do it?’ That’s not inspirational, that’s suicidal. If Lord Tubbington goes for that bird right there, that’s a dead cat. These are lies. We’re liars.” He continued.
“I mean, why do you think people buy these things?” he said, a little softer. “It’s not because they want to say how they feel about people, they buy cards because they can’t say how they feel about people, or because they’re afraid to. We provide the service that lets them off the hook. You know what? I say to hell with it! Let’s level with America, at least let them speak for themselves, right?”
When no one responded, he started to get frustrated.
“I mean, look,” he said, picking up a random card from the middle of the table and reading it aloud to the group, “’Congratulations on your new baby,’ right? How about ‘Congratulations on your new baby, guess that’s it for hanging out? Nice knowing you.’”
“Sit down, Kurt.” Mr. Schuester warned. But Kurt was far from being done; in fact, he was just getting started.
“Or how about this one with all of the pretty hearts on the front? I think I know where this is going.” he said, snatching up a Valentine’s Day card from the stack as well. “Yep…’Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart. I love you.’ That’s sweet. Ain’t love grand?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He said, his voice softer again, “What does that even mean, love? Do any of you know? If someone gave me this card, I would eat it. It’s these cards, these movies, these pop songs…they’re to blame for all the lies and the heartache, and everything. And we’re responsible, I’m responsible. I think we do a bad thing here. People should be able to say how they feel…how they really feel, not some words that some strangers put in their mouths. Words like ‘love’ that don’t mean anything…”
He stared off for a while, thinking about the pain and the heartache and everything he’d been going through, before snapping out of it and speaking again.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I quit. There’s enough bullshit in the world without my help.”
He walked out of the office, and everyone remained completely and utterly silent. He heard someone clapping as he left, probably Finn, and he smiled softly to himself. Kurt went over to his cubicle and threw all of his crap in a box he’d kept under his desk just in case he ever decided to quit, or in case he got fired. He’d always assumed that it would be the latter.
He didn’t have much, so it wasn’t much of a struggle, and maybe that was why he felt so free when he stepped out of the office building. He’d been tied down by that stupid job and that stupid life, and he had been taking it because he figured that he couldn’t do much better. Maybe that was true, in the end, maybe he couldn’t do better, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. He had the potential to do so much more than he was, and he wasn’t even using half of that potential.
Kurt realized, as he took the bus home for the last time, though significantly earlier in the day than he was used to, that so many doors had just opened up for him when he stuck up for himself back in that office.
The real challenge was finding out which one to choose.
***
450.
“You’re sketching again?” Rachel asked, peering over Kurt’s shoulder. They were lounging around in her apartment, and Kurt had his sketchpad opened up in his lap. After telling Rachel about his debacle-of-a-sort, she’d invited him over for dinner. While her soup boiled on the stove, she’d come in to check on Kurt and refill his glass of wine, and had found him almost angrily drawing out an elegant evening dress, one that she herself would not have minded modeling at all.
“It’s more like doodling.” Kurt said with a somewhat amused smile. He handed the sketchpad to Rachel, and she looked affectionately at the dress before turning the page, hoping to see another design.
Instead, she found a cartoonish doodle of Blaine with a dagger dripping with blood in his hand, an evil smirk on his face, and Kurt sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood. Rachel sighed, closed the sketchbook, and put it down next to her. She grabbed Kurt’s hands and looked into his eyes before speaking.
“Look, Kurt,” she said softly, “I know you think that Blaine was the one, but I don’t. I think…I think you’re just choosing to remember the good things. I think you should really look back on everything.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek before saying something about the soup and scurrying back into the kitchen. Kurt didn’t hear exactly, he was already gone, thinking back on not just Blaine smile or his quirky charm, but all of the times they had spent together, good and bad, this time focusing a lot more on the bad.
There were times when Kurt would suggest things to do, and Blaine would automatically reject them. He wouldn’t hold Kurt’s hand in public a lot of the time. He would get really moody at times, and when Kurt would try to cheer him up, his walls would go back up and he would start arguing about it for no reason whatsoever. He always complained about committed relationships, and there were times when he just wouldn’t talk at all, about anything. He’d end dates prematurely without any warning, saying he was tired and going home, leaving Kurt with nothing to do.
The more and more Kurt thought about it, the more he realized that he relationship with Blaine had hardly been anything to celebrate. In fact, he wondered how he’d put up with it for so long in the first place.
***
456-476.
Kurt didn’t realize for a while how ultimately bored the absence of work made him. There were long periods of time during which he had nothing better to do than stare up at the ceiling and count the number of specks on the roof, or watch a spider crawl lazily across the white expanse.
One morning in particular, he’d found himself back in his home office (which was really a second bedroom that he’d never needed) again for the first time in months. Since he’d had his cubicle at work, he hadn’t really needed it, since greeting card writing didn’t require much effort outside of his actual workplace, and the home office had become more of a storage space than anything. He figured that he could busy himself with cleaning it, that doing something productive wouldn’t make his life so meaningless at all.
He got through quite a bit of the office in a couple of hours, and it wasn’t long before he stumbled across an old portfolio of his, one that he used to bring in to interviews when he was first applying for jobs in the fashion design market, before he’d gotten trapped into writing greeting cards.
Then, it dawned on him. It wasn’t even a slow realization, like most of the realizations he had been making about his life as of late. It figuratively hit him in the middle of the face, actually, and he wondered why he hadn’t come to the conclusion earlier.
He could have been a fashion designer from the very beginning.
He could have kept looking for jobs, working at a coffee shop or something else temporary to pay the rent, but a few more months of dedication would probably have landed him a job. Instead, he’d settled on writing greeting cards, and that wasn’t exactly the best choice he had ever made.
But despite that failure and the job he had gotten trapped into for years, what was stopping him from pursuing fashion design again? At first, he brushed off the thought, because he thought he was only going for it because of Blaine, because Blaine thought it would be good for him. When he really thought about it, though, he didn’t want to do it for Blaine at all; he wanted to do it for himself.
Almost immediately, Kurt started clearing off his desk. He rid the room of all the other crap he’d been storing in there, digging out his materials, and he started to work. He wasn’t sure how much time he spent sketching, only that the days once again started blending into each other. This time, it wasn’t because of boredom or lack of initiative. This time, it was because of passion and excitement, the promise of a whole new life.
Kurt would design different things every day, sometimes coming up with new ideas, sometimes finishing old ones abandoned, and sometimes adding little details and modifications to finished designs. He focused mainly on formal wear, though there were a few fun pieces in there, too, and after finishing, modifying, or starting a handful of really good designs, he had enough for a moderately full portfolio that he would be willing to share.
So he did. There were a few positions open at tailors he admired, intern positions at slightly more renowned (but still small) local shops, and even a few internships that he applied for. Though the first couple didn’t give him the best of outcomes, he didn’t worry too much, because last time, worrying had led him nowhere. He kept his head up high and reminded himself that somewhere out there, somebody wanted a young and enthusiastic worker like Kurt Hummel, someone who had fresh ideas and a bold personality to go with them. Rejection was a thing he had learned to handle, it had just taken a lot of patience.
He felt rejuvenated, really; he was finally moving on with his life, and he felt like a completely different person because of that change. Blaine barely crossed his mind, and when he did, feelings of nostalgia flooded over Kurt, as opposed to hatred or depression. Blaine was just another memory, just another part of his life that had passed, as all parts of life do.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Summary: Written for gleeatthemoviesgleeatthemovies,
Kurt Hummel of Lima, Ohio, grew up believing that he’d never truly be happy until he met his soulmate, thanks to hours of Disney movies and romantic Broadway musicals. The other boy, Blaine Anderson of Westerville, Ohio, did not share this belief. Since the disintegration of his parents’ marriage, he’d believed that love didn’t exist. Kurt meets Blaine on January 8th in a New York office building. In an instant, he will know that Blaine’s the one he’s been looking for. But before they meet, you should know up front that this is not a love story.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Glee or (500) Days of Summer.
Spoilers: None for Glee, but the entire plot of (500) Days of Summer is completely spoiled. Direct lines from the movie are used frequently.
Warning: Some sexual themes and mild language.
MASTERPOST CAN BE FOUND HERE.
402.
Kurt really didn’t want to go to Santana’s wedding, he really didn’t. He loved her (and her fiancée Brittany, of course), he really did, but the last thing he wanted to do was build up more work at the office that he would have to do at a later time. He was behind as it was, with his mood, and he really didn’t need anything else on his plate. However, Finn had promised to bear it with him, so he’d grudgingly asked Mr. Schuester for a couple of days off to attend the wedding.
Santana was having it at her parents’ house in New Jersey, which required a long and boring train ride on Kurt’s part, which was supposed to be filled with light chatter with Finn. But when Kurt stepped on the train and Finn wasn’t there, he got a little worried, so he called.
“Hey, man!” Finn chirped upon answering, a little too cheery.
“Hey, are you here?” Kurt asked. He kept looking as he walked down the aisle to see if he’d missed Finn, which seemed a little impossible with his abnormal height and all.
“Hell no.” Finn said.
“What do you mean hell no?” Kurt said.
“I mean I’m not going to that.” Finn said.
“Yes you are,” Kurt insisted.
“No, man, it’s gonna be all lesbians and crazy Hispanic people.” Finn said in a hushed tone.
“I’m going to ignore the fact that that was extremely offensive,” Kurt said through clenched teeth, “To bring up the fact that you promised me you’d go. That’s the only reason I’m going. I mean, I love weddings and all, but I’m kind of busy as it is.”
“Well, I called Santana last night and told her I was sick. Like a ninja.” Finn said. Kurt could hear the smirk in his voice, and he nearly started full-on yelling.
“I’m not gonna know anybody at this thing!” Kurt groaned.
“Maybe she has a hot gay friend or something,” Finn said.
Kurt didn’t even say anything before hanging up. He bit his lip to keep from screaming in frustration and continued to move down the aisle of the train, tuxedo slung over his shoulder and satchel over his shoulder. He was looking for an empty row, and almost didn’t notice Blaine. That is, he didn’t notice Blaine until a few seconds later. He found an empty row and plopped down before looking back to make sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.
Sure enough, Blaine was sitting there calmly. He had headphones in, and seemed to be murmuring the words to whatever he was listening to. Kurt whipped his head back around and thought about what to do. He hadn’t spoken with Blaine in person in what seemed like forever, and he didn’t even know what he was supposed to say. Were they friends? Were they even considered each others’ exes, though whatever they had wasn’t even a typical relationship.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Blaine get up from his seat, so he quickly put his satchel on the empty seat nest to him, threw off his headphones, and pulled out one of the books he’d brought so that he’d look like he had been doing something productive, and not like he’d been debating whether to go over and say hello to Blaine or not.
“Hi Kurt,” Blaine said. Kurt looked up to see Blaine, just as handsome as he’d remembered, standing before him and grinning like nothing out of the ordinary had even happened between them.
“Hey…Blaine!” Kurt said casually, as if he didn’t remember Blaine for a second. “I must have walked right by you.”
“Yeah,” Blaine agreed with a nod.
“What are you doing here?” Kurt asked. “Are you going to Santana’s?”
Blaine nodded. “Me too,” Kurt said. “I forgot you knew her.”
“Yeah,” Blaine said, “We worked together all that time, so…”
“Of course,” Kurt said, hating the awkwardness of the conversation.
“She can be a bit mean sometimes, but I love her. She’s great.” Blaine said.
“She is.” Kurt agreed.
“How are you?” Blaine asked.
Shitty, Kurt wanted to say, absolutely shitty.
“Good,” he said.
“Good,” Blaine said with a warm smile. “I wrote to you, but I never heard back.”
“Yeah,” Kurt said, though he knew. He’d ignored all of Blaine’s e-mails after the ‘I hope we can still be friends’ crap came up. “Yeah, sorry about that. I just got…you know…it got kind of crazy, with the holidays and stuff.”
“Are you still working with greeting cards?” Blaine asked.
“Yep,” Kurt said.
“Well, I was gonna go get a coffee, if you’d like to…” Blaine trailed off before noticing the book in Kurt’s hands.
“Fashion in the Early 21st Century,” He read with a nod.
“Yeah,” Kurt said with a shrug, “It’s-“
“It looks like a good book.” Blaine interrupted.
Kurt nodded, and they once again fell into silence.
“Well, I don’t want to bother you.” Blaine apologized, starting to turn around.
“No, you’re fine,” Kurt insisted, standing to join him, “Let’s go get coffee.”
The train ride really wasn’t all that bad, once they sat down with their coffee (grande nonfat mocha and a medium drip, of course) in the dining car. They talked about everything they hadn’t talked about when they were together, and even some things they’d discussed at length when curled up together on the other’s bed or tucked into a neat corner of their favorite coffee shop. Kurt couldn’t help but feel like things were normal again; Blaine was smiling and laughing and nearly touching his hands. Maybe they’d just had a little scuffle, and Blaine was ready to get back together again.
The wedding the next day was great, of course. Blaine’s suit was sleek and Kurt didn’t hesitate to tell him, receiving a shower of compliments from Blaine when he did so. They sat next to each other (which turned out to be a mistake at first, when Blaine tried to convince Kurt to play the Penis Game with him before the ceremony started) and Kurt noticed a raised eyebrow from Santana during the ceremony itself when she saw them too. He just ignored her.
The ceremony was very simple, yet it had the Santana-esque flair to it that Kurt absolutely adored, plus Brittany’s plain elegance that Kurt had always envied since he met her at one of Santana’s infamous Christmas parties. Those in attendance seemed to be pleased with the ceremony as well.
The reception was equally lovely. Kurt spent most of it sipping champagne (and expensive champagne at that, Kurt seriously considered swiping a bottle and bringing it home with him, as he hadn’t had champagne so fine since Rachel’s wedding) and laughing with Blaine. He tried not to cringe too much when younger guests laughed too loudly and ran around the reception like a pack of wild animals. Blaine seemed to love them, though, and his face lit up whenever he watched them, so Kurt pretended not to be terribly irked.
Then, Blaine brought up the subject of minor flaws and insecurities, and Kurt absolutely couldn’t resist.
“Okay, what else?” Blaine asked, wide-eyed. He was genuinely surprised at some of the habits he had that he didn’t even know of.
“You snore.” Kurt said with a smirk.
“No, I don’t.” Blaine insisted.
“You do,” Kurt countered.
“I do not!”
“Yes, yes you do.”
“Well, you do too!” Blaine huffed. Kurt laughed. “Oh, I definitely do.” He said.
“Your feet smell so bad.” Blaine said.
“That was one time,” Kurt grumbled, “And it was because I left my foot cream in my day bag instead of my bathroom.”
“No, it’s happened a lot more than that.” Blaine said, shaking his head.
“That one time!” Kurt said.
“That one time especially, but it’s happened more than that.” Blaine said. “And when you wake up, your hair sticks straight up and it’s really cute, but ridiculous. You look like an extra in a Lady Gaga music video.”
“First of all, that’s a compliment,” Kurt said, jabbing Blaine with his index finger, “And secondly, you’re ridiculous. Who wears bow ties on a nearly daily basis?”
“Hey, I can rock a bow tie.” Blaine said. Kurt just rolled his eyes and sipped at a glass of white wine he’d been brought.
Blaine just looked at him with that goofy grin on his face and Kurt couldn’t help but melt a little bit inside. He tried not to think too much when Blaine caught Santana’s bouquet, though it was completely by accident, as she threw it way over the crowd of eager women and into the gaggle of their husbands and boyfriends. At least, Kurt knew it was an accident on Blaine’s part; he was pretty sure that had Santana wanted to throw her bouquet to another woman, she would have.
Shots and slow dances followed, the two nearly holding each other like they used to, swaying with the music in an all-too-familiar step.
“Hey, I was wondering if…I was maybe gonna have a party on Friday on our rooftop. It has this really cool garden and stuff, if you wanna come.” Blaine said as they shuffled slowly back and forth with the slow song playing.
“Yeah, I’d love to!” Kurt said, trying not to look too enthusiastic about it.
“If you’re not busy, that is.” Blaine added.
“I don’t think I will be.” Kurt said. They both laughed, and everything felt right again. The only things over their heads were strings of lights, providing a yellowish glow to the dark, warm spring night. A soft wind blew, not terribly cold, but cold enough for both men to move in a little closer to each other to keep warm. Things were finally falling back into place for Kurt and Blaine.
Kurt thought about this on the way home, while Blaine slept next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow and his jacket as a blanket. He looked like a small child, curled up and sleeping peacefully.
***
Kurt had been thinking a lot since the wedding, and he’d come to the conclusion that Blaine was ready to get back together with him. After all, he’d been practically hanging all over him, and they had talked the whole time, and it had felt to Kurt like the spark was still there. He had high expectations for this party.
He’d brought a gift, Fashion in the Early 21st Century, because Blaine had looked interested in it when they were on the train to New Jersey.
Kurt entered the apartment, sure that his expectations for the seemingly promising night would align with his reality.
He expected to be greeted warmly at the door by a bubbly Blaine, perhaps with a kiss (preferably on the lips, but the cheek wouldn’t be half bad either) and a compliment on his outfit, which he had meticulously arranged the day previous. Instead, he was greeted by an equally bubbly Blaine, but with a friendly, short hug and an inquiry as to how he was doing, to which he answered simply “good.”
He handed Blaine the gift, saying “I got you something,” to which Blaine responded “That’s so nice!” He expected Blaine to tear off the paper giddily and sigh in content when he saw the book. He’d expected a warm hug and a “thank you.” In the end, he did get his “thank you,” right after his “Oh, you shouldn’t have! I’m so excited to read it.” and before the nearly cold pat on the shoulder he received.
He’d expected Blaine to, once leading him to the party, sit everyone down for a nice meal, where the other guests wouldn’t really matter because Kurt was the only one Blaine had eyes for. However, Kurt soon found out that the party was more of a casual gathering, where alcohol was in everyone’s hand, but the party itself was very relaxed. He sat in a small group of Blaine’s other friends, Blaine sitting slightly off to the side.
“So, Kurt, what is it that you do?” a lady asked.
“I write greeting cards.” Kurt said.
“Kurt could be a really great fashion designer if he wanted to be.” Blaine pointed out from the side.
“That’s unusual,” the lady remarked, “Well, what made you go from one to the other.”
“Well, I guess I just figured,” Kurt said, “Why make something as overproduced and cheap as clothing, when I could make something as unique and one-of-a-kind as a greeting card?”
The group laughed politely, but Blaine’s smile looked far too forced for Kurt’s liking. He just gave up after a second and sipped at his drink.
He ended up looking out over Blaine’s rooftop (which provided a pretty crappy view, despite Blaine’s protests that the view was “splendid”) and sipping a beer alone.
He’d expected his alone time with Blaine to slowly move inside again, where they’d slowly venture to the bedroom, away from all of the guests and the chatter ad music, so that it would once again be the two of them, Kurt and Blaine…
Instead, he stared from a distance at Blaine showing a female friend the ring on his ring finger, sparkling and gleaming evilly in the light provided by the sunset. Blaine had a huge grin on his face, and he was chatting animatedly with the friend, laughing every once in a while and doing far too much smiling and looking happy.
Kurt left after that, he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d always hated crying in front of people.
***
440-441.
After that, the next couple of days were basically the same, and everything Kurt did blended into the next thing, to the point where he felt like he was barely living at all. At one point, he became so depressed that he walked to the nearest convenience store (in his pajamas, slippers, and a bathrobe, no less) and bought the store’s entire supply of Twinkies, as well as some whiskey and orange juice. On a normal day, he would have looked at Twinkies in horror, but he really needed some empty calories. He ignored the disturbed look of the cashier and shuffled out onto the street to make the quick journey home. He knew he looked like absolute shit, having not even bothered to brush his hair or wash his face, but he couldn’t have cared less.
“Get a room!” Kurt snapped at a young and happy-looking couple that walked past him, smiling at each other and holding hands.
***
442.
He woke up the next morning with yet another massive headache from the over-consumption of alcohol and disgusting, fattening snack cakes. This time, though, he actually had to suffer through work.
“I’ve been calling you every five minutes,” Finn complained as he slowly took his seat at his desk, wincing at everyone’s loud chatter. But maybe that was just his hangover starting to kick in. “Where have you been? Are you okay?”
“I’m great,” Kurt said.
“What happened to you?” Finn asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Kurt mumbled.
“What? You always want to talk about it,” Finn said.
“Not this time.” Kurt snapped.
“Well come on, let’s go.” Finn said, rushing past him and towards the stairs, where everyone else seemed to be headed.
“Where are we going?” Kurt asked.
“It’s Thursday,” Finn said, annoyed, “Staff meeting.”
He kept walking and Kurt mumbled “oh,” before getting up slowly and trying to catch up with him.
“This one says ‘go for it,’” Brittany (Lopez now, since her recent marriage to Santana), who had just been hired a couple of weeks before per Santana’s recommendation, said softly, pointing to a blown-up picture of a cat, before pointing to another on her other side, “And this one says, ‘you can do it!’ We have a whole line of inspirational photographic cards featuring Lord Tubbington, my cat. I think people will really enjoy them. Thank you.”
“Good job, Brittany. That’s inspirational stuff.” Mr. Schuester said politely. Brittany nodded and took a seat next to Santana, who patted her arm and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Okay, who’s next?” he continued, clapping his hands together. He then looked pointedly at Kurt, who was staring at the two pictures of the cats intently and thinking, “We haven’t heard from Sympathy in a while…Mr. Hummel?”
“Yeah?” Kurt asked, head whipping around.
“The winter collection? Do you have anything to contribute?” Mr. Schuester prompted.
“No, I really don’t.” Kurt said simply, turning back to the cat pictures.
“That’s okay, we’ll come back to you.” Mr. Schuester said. “Finn, do you have anything?”
Before Finn could start, though, Kurt started speaking again. “Actually he said, pointing in the general direction of the cat images and looking at Mr. Schuester, “You know what? Can I say something about the cat?”
“Well, okay.” He said hesitantly.
“Uh this is…and, Brittany, no disrespect here, but…this is total shit.” Kurt said bluntly.
“Kurt,” Finn warned, but Kurt kept going.
“I mean, ‘Go for it?’ ‘You can do it?’ That’s not inspirational, that’s suicidal. If Lord Tubbington goes for that bird right there, that’s a dead cat. These are lies. We’re liars.” He continued.
“I mean, why do you think people buy these things?” he said, a little softer. “It’s not because they want to say how they feel about people, they buy cards because they can’t say how they feel about people, or because they’re afraid to. We provide the service that lets them off the hook. You know what? I say to hell with it! Let’s level with America, at least let them speak for themselves, right?”
When no one responded, he started to get frustrated.
“I mean, look,” he said, picking up a random card from the middle of the table and reading it aloud to the group, “’Congratulations on your new baby,’ right? How about ‘Congratulations on your new baby, guess that’s it for hanging out? Nice knowing you.’”
“Sit down, Kurt.” Mr. Schuester warned. But Kurt was far from being done; in fact, he was just getting started.
“Or how about this one with all of the pretty hearts on the front? I think I know where this is going.” he said, snatching up a Valentine’s Day card from the stack as well. “Yep…’Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart. I love you.’ That’s sweet. Ain’t love grand?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He said, his voice softer again, “What does that even mean, love? Do any of you know? If someone gave me this card, I would eat it. It’s these cards, these movies, these pop songs…they’re to blame for all the lies and the heartache, and everything. And we’re responsible, I’m responsible. I think we do a bad thing here. People should be able to say how they feel…how they really feel, not some words that some strangers put in their mouths. Words like ‘love’ that don’t mean anything…”
He stared off for a while, thinking about the pain and the heartache and everything he’d been going through, before snapping out of it and speaking again.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I quit. There’s enough bullshit in the world without my help.”
He walked out of the office, and everyone remained completely and utterly silent. He heard someone clapping as he left, probably Finn, and he smiled softly to himself. Kurt went over to his cubicle and threw all of his crap in a box he’d kept under his desk just in case he ever decided to quit, or in case he got fired. He’d always assumed that it would be the latter.
He didn’t have much, so it wasn’t much of a struggle, and maybe that was why he felt so free when he stepped out of the office building. He’d been tied down by that stupid job and that stupid life, and he had been taking it because he figured that he couldn’t do much better. Maybe that was true, in the end, maybe he couldn’t do better, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. He had the potential to do so much more than he was, and he wasn’t even using half of that potential.
Kurt realized, as he took the bus home for the last time, though significantly earlier in the day than he was used to, that so many doors had just opened up for him when he stuck up for himself back in that office.
The real challenge was finding out which one to choose.
***
450.
“You’re sketching again?” Rachel asked, peering over Kurt’s shoulder. They were lounging around in her apartment, and Kurt had his sketchpad opened up in his lap. After telling Rachel about his debacle-of-a-sort, she’d invited him over for dinner. While her soup boiled on the stove, she’d come in to check on Kurt and refill his glass of wine, and had found him almost angrily drawing out an elegant evening dress, one that she herself would not have minded modeling at all.
“It’s more like doodling.” Kurt said with a somewhat amused smile. He handed the sketchpad to Rachel, and she looked affectionately at the dress before turning the page, hoping to see another design.
Instead, she found a cartoonish doodle of Blaine with a dagger dripping with blood in his hand, an evil smirk on his face, and Kurt sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood. Rachel sighed, closed the sketchbook, and put it down next to her. She grabbed Kurt’s hands and looked into his eyes before speaking.
“Look, Kurt,” she said softly, “I know you think that Blaine was the one, but I don’t. I think…I think you’re just choosing to remember the good things. I think you should really look back on everything.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek before saying something about the soup and scurrying back into the kitchen. Kurt didn’t hear exactly, he was already gone, thinking back on not just Blaine smile or his quirky charm, but all of the times they had spent together, good and bad, this time focusing a lot more on the bad.
There were times when Kurt would suggest things to do, and Blaine would automatically reject them. He wouldn’t hold Kurt’s hand in public a lot of the time. He would get really moody at times, and when Kurt would try to cheer him up, his walls would go back up and he would start arguing about it for no reason whatsoever. He always complained about committed relationships, and there were times when he just wouldn’t talk at all, about anything. He’d end dates prematurely without any warning, saying he was tired and going home, leaving Kurt with nothing to do.
The more and more Kurt thought about it, the more he realized that he relationship with Blaine had hardly been anything to celebrate. In fact, he wondered how he’d put up with it for so long in the first place.
***
456-476.
Kurt didn’t realize for a while how ultimately bored the absence of work made him. There were long periods of time during which he had nothing better to do than stare up at the ceiling and count the number of specks on the roof, or watch a spider crawl lazily across the white expanse.
One morning in particular, he’d found himself back in his home office (which was really a second bedroom that he’d never needed) again for the first time in months. Since he’d had his cubicle at work, he hadn’t really needed it, since greeting card writing didn’t require much effort outside of his actual workplace, and the home office had become more of a storage space than anything. He figured that he could busy himself with cleaning it, that doing something productive wouldn’t make his life so meaningless at all.
He got through quite a bit of the office in a couple of hours, and it wasn’t long before he stumbled across an old portfolio of his, one that he used to bring in to interviews when he was first applying for jobs in the fashion design market, before he’d gotten trapped into writing greeting cards.
Then, it dawned on him. It wasn’t even a slow realization, like most of the realizations he had been making about his life as of late. It figuratively hit him in the middle of the face, actually, and he wondered why he hadn’t come to the conclusion earlier.
He could have been a fashion designer from the very beginning.
He could have kept looking for jobs, working at a coffee shop or something else temporary to pay the rent, but a few more months of dedication would probably have landed him a job. Instead, he’d settled on writing greeting cards, and that wasn’t exactly the best choice he had ever made.
But despite that failure and the job he had gotten trapped into for years, what was stopping him from pursuing fashion design again? At first, he brushed off the thought, because he thought he was only going for it because of Blaine, because Blaine thought it would be good for him. When he really thought about it, though, he didn’t want to do it for Blaine at all; he wanted to do it for himself.
Almost immediately, Kurt started clearing off his desk. He rid the room of all the other crap he’d been storing in there, digging out his materials, and he started to work. He wasn’t sure how much time he spent sketching, only that the days once again started blending into each other. This time, it wasn’t because of boredom or lack of initiative. This time, it was because of passion and excitement, the promise of a whole new life.
Kurt would design different things every day, sometimes coming up with new ideas, sometimes finishing old ones abandoned, and sometimes adding little details and modifications to finished designs. He focused mainly on formal wear, though there were a few fun pieces in there, too, and after finishing, modifying, or starting a handful of really good designs, he had enough for a moderately full portfolio that he would be willing to share.
So he did. There were a few positions open at tailors he admired, intern positions at slightly more renowned (but still small) local shops, and even a few internships that he applied for. Though the first couple didn’t give him the best of outcomes, he didn’t worry too much, because last time, worrying had led him nowhere. He kept his head up high and reminded himself that somewhere out there, somebody wanted a young and enthusiastic worker like Kurt Hummel, someone who had fresh ideas and a bold personality to go with them. Rejection was a thing he had learned to handle, it had just taken a lot of patience.
He felt rejuvenated, really; he was finally moving on with his life, and he felt like a completely different person because of that change. Blaine barely crossed his mind, and when he did, feelings of nostalgia flooded over Kurt, as opposed to hatred or depression. Blaine was just another memory, just another part of his life that had passed, as all parts of life do.