Bass Line

It's that moment.

He knows it. The music soars, the key changes, the spotlight focuses and it's all him him him. There is nothing and no-one outside of that beautiful boy, so small and so pale, so much like him because that's how things must be, right? That is how it works. The boy is so much like him, someone to understand him at last, and that will be the boy to save him because – he needs that; everyone needs that, someone to be the reason for all you do.

His heart pounds as he takes Kurt's hand, and he knows it's obvious; Kurt can feel that pulse, that rush of blood from one to another and it is obvious. So obvious. Just for a second, he looks at this boy and he knows Kurt can see it too. And this is who they are; they will sing about it. They will rejoice in it and there is so much in him he can scarcely breathe.

But he needs to breathe. He needs to sing, sing for Kurt, prove himself; this is the moment he pushes himself above and beyond and wins his prize. Harmony gets the solo but he knows, he knows, right here and now it's all about him and Kurt; it's their love theme playing underneath and it will be famous. The most romantic anthem of the century. He wants to take the center stage and send his song spiraling upwards; he doesn't think he has the range, no matter how much he's practiced, but he has to try and he's sure Kurt will come into cover for him.

The song concludes, his grand finale and Kurt leaves. He leaves. But that's okay; that has to happen; conflict is the source of all drama after all and it makes perfect sense for the romantic lead to begin aloof. That is how great love stories are built.

But he cannot let it go. He wants to tear things apart until he finds the boy and he can't possibly think of anything else. It is that sort of love; the kind of all-encompassing thing that would destroy you from the inside out if you lost control of it for even a moment. He can't do a thing. He has to run for him.

Of course, he finds Kurt. Under the moon, in the rain and barely more than a silhouette in the dark. This is it; on some level this must be it.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine Blaine – Rachel and I just got – I said fine. I'm calling because we ran out of gas and money, so – don't patronize me. You only get to comment on how adorable my inability to do anything practical is when I'm being nice to you, which as you know, is never. Yes, I know that's not what you meant. I was kidding. You are paranoid. Don't worry, I think I can forgive you. So, you'll be here in a fifteen minutes? Good. I want to get out of this rain. Why does my car kill my reception again? Mm, okay. Yes. Yup, okay. See you. Love you too."


That makes sense. He didn't learn much about Kurt to begin with. He didn't learn whether or not he had a boyfriend, and Kurt is attractive; that makes sense.

It – he supposes he was being foolish. Melodramatic. Determined to have that love at first sight moment, find his way with... He has always been that way. An incident of one hour cannot be that significant ultimately, right?

Of course. Gavroche dies at the end. He is not the romantic lead; he's likely barely even an extra in whatever story Kurt's telling. Of course, Gavroche is far more than an extra but... nevermind. He hopes it's received well.

The music falls into diminuendo, and he steps out of the spotlight.