A/N: The idea for this randomly came to my head as I was getting ready to go to work early last week, and it finally came to life in the last few days. This is my first Klaine fic and only my second ever Glee fic, so constructive criticism is always appreciated. I typed ~3/4 of this on my iPad, so there may be slight grammatical construction errors (ie random capitalization or spacing issues). I've given it a look over, but it's so easy to gloss over when it's your own work. If you are interested in betaing future chapters of this piece, please let me know.
Finally it all made sense
I could keep this all from you
And I could make a statement based on truth
But then it all comes tumbling down
So go away, yeah, go away and leave me on my own.
~Eisley, "Go Away"
"Nobody marries their first love. Okay, maybe some people do, but most people don't even have a long term relationship with their first love, let alone get married to them and be with them forever.
And that's just the way life goes. We are flighty, awful creatures, us humans, and when we get bored with one thing-or one person-we move on to the next. Of course eventually we find the person we want to settle down with for the rest of our lives-or think we want to settle down with, anyway-and get married and maybe have a kid or two or twenty. And sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn't, and that, too, is the way life goes.
Sometimes I think it would be easier if we all just married our first love. Not the person you were crazy for for months and they ignored you and completely crushed your heart, but that first person who made you feel like maybe this whole love thing could work for you after all, the first person who filled your heart and soul with more happiness and completeness than you even knew could exist. I mean, they were the first person to make you feel that way, after all, so that has to account for something, doesn't it?"
Satisfied, Blaine Anderson pushed the publish button on his blog and shut his computer. Annika's school didn't let out for another forty-five minutes, but that meant there would be time for him to stop at Starbucks to surprise her with a hot chocolate when she got in the car. Grabbing his car keys and phone, he headed out the door.
This was not the life he'd imagined for himself when he had graduated high school almost 15 years before. He had graduated with a head full of dreams and an idealistic attitude, the whole world in front of him. And, for at least a little while, it had felt like he was getting there. He had moved to New York, trailing like a lovesick puppy after his high school boyfriend, Kurt Hummel, and while Kurt pursued a career in the cutthroat fashion journalism world, Blaine threw himself headlong into performing. Back then, he had lofty ideas of what their lives would be like. They would be together forever, live in a trendy loft with a Saint Bernard puppy and their three adopted children, and Blaine would be a musician and Kurt would be the editor for Vogue and they would live happily ever after.
But they started seeing less and less of each other, both of them busy with school and work and internships, and then Kurt's friendship with the man he was interning for turned into something more and they-or he-decided that it was better if they weren't together anymore. So Blaine had moved back to Westerville, where he taught music and dance at a private elementary school, and it was there that he had met Alex, the school psychologist, and he healed the scars of Kurt. They married the year after they met and decided to have Annika the year after that, and if Blaine couldn't have a happily ever after with Kurt, well, a happily ever after with Alex seemed like the next best thing.
But as it turned out, marriage and family life wasn't all Alex had imagined it to be, and when Annika was two, he filed for divorce and took off out of their lives completely. This was when Blaine started blogging-it was a way for him to process the pain of losing Alex (and Kurt), the struggles of being a gay single father, and everything else that popped into his head. He hadn't expected anybody (except, perhaps, his grandmother) to read it, but it made him feel better, so he kept writing, and to his surprise, it was a hit. He was soon inundated with ad networks and sponsorships and millions of hits per day, and after a year and a half, he quit his job to write full time. Now, he and Annika were living comfortably and he was being hailed as one of the most influential bloggers of the decade. He had recently been approached about a book deal, and he had several public appearances scheduled for the upcoming year. Maybe it wasn't the way he had pictured his life, but nobody could say that Blaine Anderson hadn't made it.
He hadn't really dated since Alex left, except for a few disastrous set ups that went no further than blog fodder, but after all of this time he could genuinely say he was happy that way. Not that he never thought about it, of course (like today), but he had a beautiful daughter, a successful career, and a happy life. He didn't need anybody right now.
He had just pulled out of the Starbucks drive through when his phone rang, the caller ID displaying the name of his publicist, Nina.
"This is Blaine," he said. "What's up?"
"Blaine, it's Nina," she said. "Listen, I just got a call from Vanity Fair. They're running a piece on stylish and influential mommy bloggers and they want to interview you."
Blaine raised his eyebrows. "I'm not a mommy," he joked, then got serious. "Vanity Fair? Really? They want to interview me?"
"Yes." Nina had on her business voice and was apparently uninterested in Blaine's jokes right now. "if you give the okay, they'll be sending someone out to meet you next week."
"Well, sure!" Blaine pulled into the pick up line at Annika's school, the same school he had taught at just a few short years ago. "I'm not going to say no to Vanity Fair!"
"Great!" Nina said brightly. "I'll call them to let them no. Give Anni a kiss for me."
"Will do." Blaine pressed the end call button, pulling ahead in line. Vanity Fair. What were the chances?
If there was one thing Kurt Hummel didn't want to be writing about, it was mommy bloggers. He was the executive editor for the life and style department at, so he supposed it came with the territory, but it still seemed like a massive, completely ridiculous, pain in the ass, dealing with ever-so-put together women who thought their styles were "so quirky" who had somehow become millionaires by writing about what little Journey and Madison had eaten for breakfast. They would talk all about how their children were their inspiration and how they felt like people who didn't have children were missing out, while the kids screamed the whole time and the photographer thought about how many photoshop actions would be needed to cover the sheer amount of snot they were producing.
Kurt had wanted children once, but that had been an impossibly long time ago, back when he was a rosy cheeked idealist, back before he had fucked his boss and broken the heart of the only boy who had ever loved him. Sure, he had stayed with Greg for twelve years, even after catching him-on multiple occasions-with other young, rosy cheeked, idealistic interns, but Greg hadn't exactly been the kid type, and by the time he took off to Aruba with Mikey the intern, neither was Kurt.
"Good news," Mona, the senior editor, burst into Kurt's office and through his reverie. "you won't have to interview a mommy blogger after all."
Kurt's eyes lit up. "They scrapped the article?"
"No." Mona handed him a folder. "they want you to interview a daddy blogger."
Kurt raised an eyebrow, taking the folder from Mona. "Somehow, that sounds worse."
Mona laughed, rumpled his hair, and Kurt shot her an annoyed look that got largely ignored. "it'll be fun," she said, "Promise."
"That's what you think," Kurt muttered darkly, but Mona had already turned on her Christian Loubotins and was gone.
Still grumbling, he sat down at his desk and opened the folder. "Confessions of a Gay Single Dad," he read, and immediately his interest was, ever so slightly, piqued. He typed the URL into his web browser and drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for it to load. The masthead showed a little girl with chestnut brown curls and a Gymboree backpack heading toward a school. Her back was away from the camera, but her head was turned, laughing, waving. "Gay Single Dad, September 2027" it read. "Confessions of a first grader". Innocuous enough, Kurt thought, and clicked over to the "About me" tab without bothering with any of the entries.
The headshot hit him like a ton of bricks. There was the chestnut-haired little girl again, smiling, her head bent as she looked down at something in her father's hand. But it was the father that struck him. He was older, now, a few lines appearing on that chiseled, godlike face,but the curly dark hair was the same, the mischievous dark eyes. The expression on his face was distinctly Blaine. Kurt paused. It couldn't be. Could it? He admittedly had not kept up with Blaine since he'd left him, but last he'd heard he was a teacher, not a blogger. Taking a deep breath and holding it, Kurt began to read the blurb.
"Blaine Anderson is an acclaimed..." Kurt let out his breath. Well, this just got a lot more interesting. Dazedly, he glanced up at the clock on his wall. 5:30. He didn't technically get off until six, but he felt like this was warranted. He needed a good stiff drink.
Annika was a flurry of activity as she climbed into the back seat of the car, buckling herself in. "Today we had library and music and gym and drama," she was saying. "I got a new unicorn friends book. Tomorrow it's picture day and I wanna wear my blue dress and Molly had a Nutella sandwich so I traded my Reeces Pieces for it and in music I was playing the triangle and it was really fun." she took a breath and glimpsed the hot chocolate in the front seat cup holder. "Ooh, coffee!" she said excitedly. Blaine listened, amused, to her babbling. "Sounds like an exciting day. We'll have to start the unicorn book at bedtime, huh?" Annika nodded, but she was focused on the "coffee". Blaine handed it to her, and his phone began jangling with a text message from Nina. "vf journalist will b there sat around 2 pm," it read. "stylist will b there around 11. try to pick stuff that represents you both best. qs will be abt blogging , parenting, style, etc."
"Got it," Blaine typed back, turning the radio on and handing Annika her iPod and the auxiliary cable, trying not to cringe as Olly Jonas (son of one of the Brothers, Blaine had never been able to keep them straight) filled he car. "Whats the journalists name?" he liked to do his homework before an interview, check out what they had done in the past so he knew what to expect.
They were at home before Blaine got Nina's reply. "Kurt Hummel," the text said. "hey, didn't u used to date someone named Kurt?"
Blaine froze cutting up tomatoes, his heart dropping into his stomach. There was no way he could do this. "no," he texted back quickly, unable to think of anything else, and quickly dialed the number to the neighborhood Chinese restaurant. There was no way he could concentrate on cooking now. He wasn't even sure he could think about eating right now. Pulling a handful of bills out of his wallet, he called to Annika in the play room, "Listen for the door, baby girl. Daddy is going to lie down, call me when you hear it," and made a dash to the bathroom and promptly threw up. Catching his breath, he leaned against the bathtub, drenched in cool sweat. How could this possibly be happening? There had to have been a mistake. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, still on the screen with Nina's text. And there it was, plain as day,Kurt's name. Blaine's stomach twisted, but this time, he felt his throat constrict and found himself fighting back tears. He couldn't see Kurt. Not now. Not after he'd spent so much time trying to get over him. He couldn't let Kurt see his life now. He would text Nina and have her get them to send a different journalist. Easy. He splashed his face with cold water and went out to play with Annika while they waited for the food. Everything was going to be just fine.
"Rough day?" Aaron, the bartender at Kurt's favorite bar, located conveniently down the block from the Vanity Fair offices, looked concerned as he poured Kurt a nice strong gin and tonic.
Kurt accepted the glass gratefully. "You could say that."
Aaron gave him a sympathetic pat. "What happened?" he asked. "Anything you can talk about?"
Kurt sipped his drink, sighing. "I have to do an article on my ex."
Aaron looked puzzled. "Greg?"
"I wish. No, my other ex. The one before Greg."
Recognition dawned. "Oh. Shit."
Kurt nodded. "He's some kind of big shot blogger now, and I'm supposed to go to Westerville to interview him about it."
"Bad breakup?" Aaron had only heard bits about the guy Kurt had dated before Greg, nothing specific.
Kurt shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I left him for Greg, but there was no drama or anything. It's just...weird. After all this time. He was my first love, you know?"
Aaron gave Kurt a knowing look. "Well, you know what they say. You never really forget your first love."
Kurt groaned. "I'm going to need another drink."
"The public relations for Vanity Fair said they didn't have anyone else to send." Nina sipped her latte. "Why are you acting so weird about this?"
Blaine worried the plastic lid of his cup. It was Tuesday morning. He had taken Annika to school and then demanded an emergency meeting with Nina. "I don't want to see him," he said through gritted teeth.
Nina raised her eyebrows. "You've never even met the guy," she said. "How bad can he be?"
Blaine kept worrying the lid of his cup, and Nina snatched it from him. "I have so," he said, glowering at her and reaching for the cup. "He's, um, kind of my ex."
Nina's face lit up in triumph. "I knew you'd dated a guy named Kurt!" she said excitedly.
"Yes, and in case you don't recall, he broke my heart into many small pieces and then proceeded to stomp on them. And give me back my coffee."
Nina handed him back his cup. "Leave the lid alone," she scolded, as if Blaine was a little kid. "It's not going to be that bad," she assured him. "and besides. Now might be a good chance to give him a piece of your mind."
"I don't want to give him a piece of my mind," Blaine protested. "I want him to fall off the face of the earth."
Nina patted his hand. "you'll be just fine, baby, I promise."
"We'll see," Blaine muttered darkly, but Nina ignored him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I've got another meeting in twenty," she said. "Give me a call after the interview and tell me how it went, okay? I love you."
"If you loved me, you'd find me another journalist!" Blaine shouted at her retreating form, but she was already gone, waving her hand absently at him.
Back at home, Blaine sat down at the computer, staring blankly at the new post page of his blog for several long minutes. He had planned to write a post reflecting on Annika's first "real" week back to school, but now thoughts of Kurt and Vanity Fair and how much he hated his life right now were swirling around in his head, and he felt like, in a way, he would be doing Annika a disservice to try to write what should be a happy-if slightly bittersweet-post about a huge milestone in her life in this emotional state. "Big News," he typed in the subject box, and the rest of the post seemed to spring to life without even having to think much about it.
"I know I said I'd be talking all about Anni's first week of "real" school, and there will be post about that soon, but Anni's not the only one who's been having a big week over here in GSDVille. Keep your eyes peeled, because our little blog is going to be featured in the pages of an upcoming issue of Vanity Fair! Needless to say, we're pretty excited over here," He inserted a picture of Annika jumping up and down that he'd taken when he'd surprised her by taking her to Disney World last year, smiling at the memory, and continued typing. "and I hope you'll be excited, too. Stay tuned!"
No sooner had he pushed publish than an unsettled feeling came over him. He was lying to them, he thought. Or at the least, lying by omission. It wasn't that he wasn't excited to be in Vanity Fair, but the idea of seeing Kurt again was making his chest feel strange and hollow in ways that he hadn't felt since they had broken up, a lifetime ago. It wasn't that he still missed Kurt, of course, because that would be ridiculous. You have both moved on with your lives, he told himself firmly, whatever happens when he comes down here, for better or for worse, is going to be strictly professional and when Monday morning rolls around, he's going to get back on that plane and you never have to think about him again. But somewhere in the back of Blaine's mind, he wondered if, perhaps, that was exactly the problem. He was afraid that if he saw Kurt again, he wouldn't want to never see him again.
"Fuck." Blaine ran his hands through his hair, grabbing his keys off the desk. He had not had enough coffee for this yet.