( mssg » blaine | sent ) i think its stupid i only ever got to kiss you once, and that kurt can do it whenever he wants. like in class (PRETTY SURE MR SHCUE ISNT SUPPOSRTED TO ALLOW THAT BTW. IDK WHY HE DOES UNLESS HE LIKES WATCHING YOU AND KURT SUCK EACH OTHERS FACES OFF) ok maybe not that bad but idk why he always has to touch you? like dude we’re here to sing remember how thats all you card about and now suddenly its all about showing off how happy and in love he is with you, which cool thats great but lmao ( mssg » blaine | sent) and there are how many people in glee club why do you two always have to be paired up or hanging off of each other, like go twirl tina or something blaine like kurt can go wheel artie around or do single ladies in thE CORNER I DON’T CARE ( mssg » blaine | sent) fuck airplane mode doesn’t work so much for that but you know what i don’t even care. it is whatever man. but i think you should find something else to do on saturday because i’m not really in the mood for a sleep over and honestly i dont even care cod came out this week. i want you to let that SINK IN BLAINE. and we ordered pizza last night so i’m NOT Gonna want it again so. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) god this isnt even about COD dont go trying to make it seem like i’m talking about something else cause i’m not i’m just talking about you and kurt ╭∩╮(-_-)╭∩╮
( mssg » sam | sent ) Sam? I’m sorry. I didn’t ( mssg » sam | sent ) No. Wait. We’re not having this conversation in text messages. Especially when you’re so upset or drunk or both. ( mssg » sam | sent ) I’m coming over. ( mssg » sam | sent ) PS. I’m not going to take no for an answer. Don’t even try. I’m already on my way and I’m not turning around. No matter what you threaten me with either. I’ll sit outside until you open the door if I have to.
“I can stay the night if you want me to.” It was the weekend after all, so Blaine wouldn’t be getting up early. Tate would never admit it, but sometimes he liked to follow him around during his routine. It wasn’t meant to be in a creepy sort of way ; Blaine was just his only friend in a good, long while. He liked to spend time with him, whether he knew it or not. “I can’t imagine how lonely and isolated it must feel to have moved so far away. Especially into a big house like this.” This house just oozed discomfort. It always had, and Tate wasn’t even sure at this point if it were the spirits that perpetually wandered around inside. Something about it was just so terribly — Off. “Why did you move, anyway? I mean, yeah, Los Angeles is nice and stuff. People like to be near Hollywood, though if you asked me, it’s not as special the second time around. It’s not like they show in the movies.” While films showed nothing but the glitter and glam of a city that was made from lights, the truth was so far different. Homelessness was rampant and it was filled mostly with people who had their dreams crushed long ago. This is what happened to his mother, after all. And now she drank her sorrows away.
“Sometimes, it gets so quiet every creak makes me think someone’s here. A sure sign I watch too many horror movies when I’m alone and should probably stop,” Blaine confessed but then backed the confession up with a joke because how childish could admitting you get creeped out from the house settling get? “You’re more than welcome to stay.” Quickly adding that in to graze over the subject of him preferring not to be alone once again, Blaine took the chance to change the subject. Though answering the question made him cringe inwardly. Chewing on his bottom lip–he turned and relaxed his head back against the headboard. “I–ah. Something happened at my old school. After a dance. Ended up with me in the hospital and my Dad deciding we needed to have a fresh start somewhere else. My brother suggested here. My Dad put in for a transfer and here we are..” Smiling faintly, he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tried to pretend he was more fine with everything than he actually was. Guilt ran deep with Blaine and he wasn’t as over it as he pretended to be. “So you like it here instead then?”
( mssg » blaine | unsent ) you make it look so simple. i was thinking about it the other day and i still don’t know how the fuck this happened or why you’re still here. thought it was charity hours at first and i was so ready to fuck it up. i thought it’d be fun. see how long richie rich took to crack. ( mssg » blaine |unsent ( ⚆ _ ⚆ ) ) the way everyone looks at us, i know what they’re thinking alright. i know you do too, even if you act like you see something else. ( mssg » blaine | unsent ) thought everyone like you was either a sucker or some stupid prick looking to feel better about themselves. i don’t get it. i know you don’t like looking at yourself, and i get it. but i’m not gonna take you down too. everything always starts out good but this is gonna end the same way. i was so close last night. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) gotta cancel tomorrow ( mssg » blaine | sent ) have to take debbie and frannie down to see derrek before they do something stupid. might not be home before the weekend, ( mssg » blaine | sent ) maybe i’ll see you on tuesday?
( mssg » lip | sent ) I’m confused. Lip? What do you think they’re thinking? I don’t want to assume the meaning of what you’re saying here. Because it could be several things, you know? ( mssg » lip | sent ) Oh.. ( mssg » lip | sent ) Sure. I understand. Let me know if you want company to hang out with when she goes to see him. Or if it’s brother/sister/niece time? I get that, too. ( mssg » lip | sent ) I’ll see you then..
after a brief pause..
( mssg » lip | sent )
Are you sure this isn’t about your other text message? I’d prefer you tell me if it was. Or if I’m being an idiot and reading way too much into it.
( mssg » (oops not) rachel | sent ) Hang on. I appreciate your advice. Don’t get me wrong. I think there’s a bigger issue we’re dealing with here that you’re forgetting while saying you’re rooting for that outcome. ( mssg » (oops not) rachel | sent ) I came here to start over. Doing that wouldn’t just be a step backwards. It’d be a 180 in the opposite direction of continuing to do that. ( mssg » (oops not) rachel | sent ) You’re so sweet and I adore you but I don’t think that’s the best idea.
Lips twitched lightly upward, Jesse’s expression looked positively humorous. ❛ On the show —- You can’t possibly convince me the male lead doesn’t have a single critique in his body to share during a private audience with his director. How else are we supposed to reach multiple Tony status? ❜
Jesse was certainly enjoying himself with this. Wasn’t he? Blaine, though? Wasn’t. Not at all. Wait? Huh? How’d the topic shift from whether or not he should gather up the rest of his clothes (and pride) so he could turn and walk out to….the show? Doing a double take as he pulled his sweater over the white undershirt he hadn’t tucked into his pants that were still beltless, Blaine squinted, shoved his tongue against the back of his upper teeth and shook his head.
“Work? Seriously? You’re unbelievable. You know that? Completely unbelievable.”
A hand rose to push the heavier locks of hair away from her face, though still unable to keep her uneven ( that’s what she got for insisting on cutting her own hair ) side swept bangs from draping over her lashes. Only then she looked back up at the unspeakably charming stranger that looked like he had been made in the image of a stylish fashion advertising poster from the forties.
“Wh— For real? I don’t play here. I mean, not yet, I’ve got a show tomorrow night and I’m gonna be working on an article all day—— about your show, actually, you know, this show. A friend of a friend runs the place, she’s letting me get a little rehearsing done while I’ve still got the time.”
“Oh? Oh! Wow. You’re the writer!” Surprised that he was standing in front of the person who was going to be covering his show and seeing that she was a musician herself (and hearing that the woman was good) added absolutely NO PRESSURE to raise the whole better knock it out of the park bar he always set for himself. Nah! No! Not at all!
Stammering to wrap his tongue around a word or two, Blaine sat back down hoping she’d take the queue and stick around. A deep breath later, he regained his use of the English vocabulary and continued on like the hiccup never happened. “Your friend runs the venue? She’s really good at what she does. Though she’s missing out if she hasn’t let you take over the stage yet. You should, probably, let her know catching an artist when they are up and coming is a once in a lifetime sort of thing she shouldn’t let slide. Cause I think she’s missing out. Big time.”
It didn’t happen OFTEN, just two or three times a year, but every once in a while the stars would align for a night like tonight.
On one trip or another through New York City, at some point during their week-long stay, Burt and Carole Hummel-Hudson would want to take their two boys out for dinner. Just the immediate family, to have a little bit of time all to themselves. To catch up on old stories, and make new memories even with the boys in their mid-20s of their very sweet family dinner tradition. But the first time it happened, plans excluding the significant others? Rachel had been a little HURT by it. She thought she was family… or as close as one could be without actually being married. She and Finn were ENGAGED (again) for crying out loud, and had been living together in New York for five years. When was she going to be good enough to qualify for this dinner? And while infinitely more understanding than his female counterpoint, Blaine hadn’t loved the (most likely UNINTENDED) snub either. Knowing neither one of them had been invited to the Italian restaurant for the night, they’d glumly agreed to order takeout and watch movies together to cheer themselves up.
That was the night they’d realized they could turn this negative into a positive.
{text ✦ blaine anderson} finn’s leaving in fifteen minutes.bring rosé.
“Go, go, go. You’re going to be late! Can’t keep Burt and Carol WAITING, after they’ve gone through all this trouble to make the reservation…” Rachel pressed, all but SHOVING Finn out of the apartment in her haste to get her own night started. He’d glanced over his shoulder in a cross between confusion and (dare she say it) disappointment, but heeded her advice anyways. With a kiss to her forehead and a promise to be home in a few hours, he was gone. Giving Rachel JUST ENOUGH TIME to change into her favorite pajamas, pull together all their favorite bowls of snacks, and produce her own bottle of chilled pink wine she’d hidden from Finn behind a carton of almond milk.
Rachel swung open the door with an excited SQUEAL, careful not to crunch the wine in Blaine’s arms as she pulled him in for a tight hug. “Oh my GOSH, I have been looking forward to this all week. I think Finn was actually a little mad that I didn’t even ask to go to dinner. Oooh, nice bottle choice. Let me get this on ice RIGHT AWAY.” she gushed, already headed back into the kitchen to stick Blaine’s contribution to tonight into the fridge and pour them both a drink. With a glass of wine WAY MORE FULL than they’d ever be given at a restaurant, Rachel lifted hers in a mocking toast.
“To us.”
Thinking about this whole secretive dinner that Finn, Kurt, Burt and Carole were having on Valentine’s Day meant something was up. Sure, he might’ve gotten that impression after Kurt started acting more and more strange as it got closer to the time for them to leave. Like he was hiding a secret. You know? That Kurt look!
Where he gets a little too red in the cheeks if he meets your eyes. Which he barely can without a slight upward twitch of his lips. Or the stuttering reply of ‘O-Oh no, I’m fine!’ that gets higher and higher in pitch the second time you ask if and circle back with an are you sure that’ll just get him tongue tied enough that you know he’s wishing you’d shut up and go away? THAT was always a dead giveaway! Blaine’s triumphant sleuthing would be brought up later. Because when Kurt and Burt were up to something and you tossed Carole and Finn into the mix? It was bound to be good.
Humming as he texted Rachel back letting her know he was almost there, Blaine stopped by his favorite wine shop to pick up a special occasion bottle and made a pit stop at the corner store for strawberries. …And chocolate ones, too. Both couldn’t hurt. Spoiling his best friend was part of his whole Valentine’s shebang that kept getting worse every year. There was no shame about it either. Like. Ever. Not in Blaine Anderson’s book.
Out of the elevator with a lightness to his steps that borderlined on needing a song by Julie Andrews to do it justice, his reusable bags were gathered into one hand and the bottle of wine was readied to hand over as soon as the door opened. Was she waiting at the door? It swung open so fast–a stunned expression greeted her squeal then crinkled up into a smile so bright it might’ve just given the fluorescent lights inside the hallway a run for their money.
“Hey, Rach!” Full arms returned the hug as best as they could. Then he watched her dart off with his bottle in hand, relieved that she liked the choice. “Great! Hey! About that?” He sat the bags on the table and took the more-than-abundant supply of wine she was served up with a grateful nod and a crooked grin. “This is why you’ll never be a bartender,” he muttered under his breath but perked up at her toast and gave her a bow of his head. “To us!”
“So.. I might’ve brought us something a little extra and you…er. Close your eyes, please?”
[ text ;; blaine ] It would be less depressing if you´d have just done it instead of telling me. [ text ;; blaine ] You should have texted me earlier. I could have pulled you out that funk. [ text ;; blaine ] Which show do you want to see? Something funny I reckon? Or at least something that´s not depressing for the major part.
( mssg » rachel | sent ) I had to tell someone because I’m starting to annoy myself with how freaking sad this is. I’m trusting you to beat some sense into my head. Because you always have. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) I know. I guess I just had to let it build up until one day I wanted to slap myself upside the head. Today is that day. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) You reckon? Reckon.. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Can you get any cuter? ( mssg » rachel | sent ) How about Kinky Boots? Or Aladdin? I know those are both as opposite from each other in wholesomeness that you can get but neither one of them are close to depressing??
pianokeysandbowties 