Kurt, Part 1

The room spun. The walls changed colours. The smiling faces distorted around him.

This was not happening.

Everyone else in the room raised their hand in agreement. And, unwillingly, Kurt raised his. Blaine looked around, smiling in relief.

"So what song were you thinking, Anderson?" Wes asked, one eyebrow raised. Blaine grinned, eyes lighting up. He leant down to his bag and pulled out some sheet music.

"The arrangement's a little sketchy during the bridge, but we can figure it out," he smiled, handing the paper around the room. The boys buzzed in anticipation as they read the title. "And we need choreography-something that goes-bang!" Blaine did some slightly exaggerated jazz hands, then looked towards Kurt, who was using every prayer he had ever saved up-and there were a lot of them-to keep from crying. "I'd imagine you would know the Gap layout pretty well?"

"Well, of course," he smiled, trying to hold back tears. "But, Blaine-'When I get you alone?'" he asked, trying to sound reasonable. "Isn't that a little-well, let's be blunt, blunt?" Blaine just grinned gorgeously, oblivious to Kurt's false tone.

"Not at all-I don't want the message to get confused," he came over to Kurt, holding out his sheet music. "After all, if I want to make a statement, then I need to make it loud, right?" he ruffled Kurt's hair.

From across the room, Wes and David exchanged dark looks.

This was not going to be good.

Kurt, Part 2

Packing up was easier than Kurt expected. The ivory walls of his dorm looked oddly plain and boring without any of his musical posters or Vogue clipouts. Just like every other room on campus.

Next term, maybe even next month, another boy would move in. He would put on his own sheets, hang his own clothes up in the wardrobe, and put his own posters on the wall. There would be no indication that Kurt even existed after he left Dalton. He'd find the classes hard, and he'd make new friends. He'd get caught in snowball wars, get pranked, get initiated in the extremely dangerous and utterly hilarious initiation ceremony. He'd fall in love, pour his heart and soul into someone, then have it chewed back out by person he thought he could trust more than anything in the world. He'll fall over in the snow, and get locked out after curfew when it's cold outside.

Ergh. The phrase brought back memories.

The stupid thing about memories is that they always toy with you. Kurt could have sworn Blaine was flirting with him. 'Baby It's Cold Outside' was certainly the flirtiest thing he'd ever experienced. Not that that said very much. Kurt's experience with relationships was about as extensive as his knowledge of Target stores.

Kurt put his iPhone on loudspeaker, and put on his 'Mopey Playlist'. Yes, he actually had a playlist dedicated to depressing songs. He was just finishing clearing out his bathroom supplies when 'Need You Now' started playing. An errant tear started ebbing down Kurt's cheek, leading the way for a torrent of salty droplets to break past his walls.

He never cried. Tears were one thing that never came. Other than when he was watching his father, lying in the hospital, looking so alike to his mother, almost nine years ago. This didn't warrant tears. Tears were sacred. You don't cry unless you need to. And Kurt didn't need to. This was ridiculous.

"Kurt?" there was a hesitant knock on the door, and a mop of freshly washed curls poked through the door. Kurt sat in the base of the L-shaped room, hoping to escape notice.

Blaine didn't give up. He had always seemed to understand Kurt. Well, almost always. He took two steps into the bathroom, then, inexplicably, sat just through the door, on the opposite side of the L to Kurt.

"Kurt, I'm sorry," Blaine began, talking to the wall. "How-how much did you hear?" Silence. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Kurt. I did all of that, and then realised this wasn't how I wanted things to happen. I froze. I couldn't fix it. I can't fix it. And so I said what I said. I told the truth. Well, part of it, anyway. I don't think you really understand how hard I'm trying to make this right. I'm trying to stop us falling apart. I want this friendship to go the distance, Kurt-I need it to. I needed to stop this breaking. Because, you know what? Sometimes I feel like I'm losing you, like you're slipping through the cracks. You get so caught up inside your own head, and it scares me. I know you got really messed up at Mckinley, but I know how that feels, and I got over it, didn't I? I thought that if we took it slow, and kept the friendship forever, then I wouldn't have to worry about it ending."

And I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all…

"And I know it's probably already happened, I know that I've caused us to end," he continued. Kurt couldn't see it, but Blaine had tears in his eyes as well. "I didn't think you'd take it like that. I didn't think that you really felt, well, so much, that you would leave…is that fair, Kurt? On the team? The Warblers need you." God help me, I need you. "I mean, where are you going to go? You can't go back to Mckinley…"

"I'm going home, at first," Kurt stifled a sob. "Then maybe to an aunt in Carolina."

"So, do you want to tell me why you're leaving?" Blaine asked. "And don't tell me it's because you have some external problem that needs fixing, or that the classes are too hard-I know it's because of me. But I don't get why you're so upset all of a sudden…" Kurt didn't want to answer, didn't want to give Blaine the chance to weasel out of it. Because Kurt had heard enough.

"Sometimes I feel like I don't know you at all" was all he said. "You act like one thing to me, then go off and be someone completely different to another."

"You're leaving because you don't know me? Come on, Kurt, at least give me a proper answer."

This is your fault, Kurt thought, angrily, irrationally. I wouldn't be leaving if you weren't so afraid to try. A sharp intake of breath on the other side of the room made Kurt realise he'd said it out loud.

"I'm not afraid to try, Kurt!" Blaine suddenly yelled, standing up and turning the corner, towering over the slighter boy. "I'm afraid-I just-you're so immature!" Kurt froze, the stood up as well.

"Oh really?" he seethed. He had never seen Blaine like this. Cool, calm, collected Blaine had flipped. Kurt looked into his eyes, and realised Blaine wasn't just angry-he was sad.

"Yeah, you are!" Blaine shouted. "You can't seem to handle anything, can you? It wasn't even a real rejection! I'm not telling you to get out of my face, am I? I'm not telling you to leave me alone, to go away-I'm saying the opposite! I don't even understand why you're leaving-you heard what I said in my room! This is completely irrational, and-and hormonal! And somewhere in that confused little mind of yours, you know that, but you don't know how to handle it, so you're running away!"

"Funny," Kurt said softly, deadly. "Isn't running away your thing?" Blaine froze, then paled until he was almost grey, turned on his heel and left.

Kurt, Part 3

The carpark was empty, but that helped. Kurt didn't want to cry with other people around. And he planned to do a lot of crying.

'He was just a distraction, Wes! You know Kurt was-'

'Blaine, we saw how you looked at him after the performance. How the hell was he supposed to understand?'

'I just thought that…'

'And you shouldn't have frozen up like that afterward. You knew what he was going to say-maybe not that outright-'

'Yeah, well, I wouldn't have done it if I knew he was going to get fired!'

'I meant with Kurt-you kind of flaunted it, didn't you?

'It would have worked if I hadn't put him on the spot like that…just expecting him to understand…'

Kurt had left then, slamming the door behind him.

Two sets of headlights swung into the carpark, and parked next to each other in one of the rows further back. Four or five large, heavily built men got out, then came towards him. By the time he realised they were wearing Mckinley football jackets, with Karofsky leading, it was too late to star the ignition.