“Don’t you have somebody else to annoy?” Annaleigh snapped. It was cold and rainy and that was part of the reason for her moodiness. She hated being out in the cold, even more so the rain. Currently she was standing outside of the diner where she worked, under the rather large awning waiting for the rain to let up. Since it was pouring down rain, she was going to wait for it to get down to a sprinkle before she headed off to go pick up her Tommy.
She had a feeling the man beside her was probably doing the same – waiting for the rain to let up. Arms crossed the woman’s chest as she looked around. If the rain didn’t let up soon, she’d probably have to just start walking. She would’ve called a taxi, but she put her phone in Tommy’s bag this morning by mistake. She didn’t really feel like waving one down either.
Another reason for Annaleigh’s moodiness was due to having not gotten enough sleep the night before. The nightmares were back and they seemed to have gotten worse. She had a feeling if this kept up, she’d have to mention it to her therapist. Which was something she really didn’t want to do. A yawn escaped from the woman’s lips and she reached up and rubbed one of her eyes with a black gloved hand.
Blaine groaned at the rain coming down in buckets. Not the greatest time to forget your umbrella on your rush to get to work before he missed his fitting. If he went out in that? By the time he got to the theater, he was going to look like a drowned rat with crazy curls in his eyes and soaked from head to toe. Six blocks to the closest subway. Life wasn’t playing fair.
Thumbing through the Lyft app on his phone, he paged a car and hoped it’d get here quick. Because, apparently, someone standing beside him was having just as bad of a day as he was and didn’t mind taking it out on yours truly. His brows shot up and a taken aback half-smile greeted her sarcastic question. Did she want an answer? She’d get one anyway.
“Probably. But. As you can see,” his chin ticked towards the rain dripping down in puddles and blowing sideways, “We’re both trapped here. I’ll try to be less annoying though. If you can tell me what I was doing that was grating on your nerves. Other than. You know? Standing here.” Oops. Okay, so his sardonic side managed to claw it’s way to the surface. But thinking about everyone waiting on him to get the rest of their day done was making him antsy, upset and loosening up his tongue while lowering his patience. Not the greatest combination.
( 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.
( 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.
Wasn’t that kinda the problem? For the good of Kurt, yeah. It made sense. He supported it. But the rest of it? It really freaking sucked. Sam had rallied in Kurt’s corner and supported him when the rest of New Directions tapped out, even if it didn’t go according to plan, and he’d always liked him but… Blaine getting involved made it all messy. They knew each other and letting on like they were just… Two dudes who went to the same school? Putting on a front to the world? Lying was exhausting, but it didn’t compare to how exhausting it was seeing the both of them together.
“Yeah, just when no one’s looking’.” Sam shrugged, though the defeat in his tone almost counteracted how harsh his words came out. It was hurt. It felt like he was playing a spy half the time, which in retrospect should have felt a lot cooler, but it really didn’t. James Bond just had to kick a lot of ass and hook up with a lot of girl’s with unfortunately slutty names, he didn’t have to worry about the emotional terrorism that came with it. Even if Sam should have been used to that by now considering his dating history.
“You know, this really sucks.” Sam finally admitted with a huff, eyes raising back to Blaine’s as his arms crossed against his chest, his back pressed against the cool brick of McKinley. Glee Club had let out an hour ago and he’d waited until Kurt and Blaine were done doing whatever lovesick duet they’d rented out the auditorium for. You know, for extra practice. Sam wasn’t sure that wasn’t code for emotional handjobs, or at the very least empty auditorium make outs.
“When we did this ‘For the good of Kurt’,” The air quotes came as his arms uncurled from his chest, a dramatic flare that quietly highlighted how frustrated he was with the situation, “I thought it was gonna be for the better. Helping people usually makes you feel better, but this?This doesn’t feel like helpin’ people. This feels like lying and the end of cancer movies and chick flicks when the one person dies and they do that stupid slow montage of all the happy moments. But you can’t be happy. Cause they’re dead.” The point was kind of getting lost in frustration. Sam sighed, shaking his head and pushing off the wall and past Blaine, “I just don’t know what the point of letting you in anymore is when it just hurts. It doesn’t feel like us.”
Keys in hand, the former Warbler cut through the back of the school towards the street he had to park on after missing any available space since he’d started his commute late. He was on a high from performing, face flush and a pep to his step that always followed after glee club practices with Kurt. Honestly, it was what he needed. The entire situation where he couldn’t quite meet someone’s eyes during the parts of the songs Mr. Schue had them singing next to one another was about as mentally exhausting as coming face to face with the reality this move was going to be a hell of a lot harder than he originally thought. But. He was trying to put his hesitation behind him. To move past the part where he woke up and immediately reached for the crimson and navy tie still hanging from the back of the chair in his room. Then felt a hollow ache in his belly when he realized bow ties were, once again, his go to accessory.
They were trying, too. Their secret was so much easier to keep when he was at Dalton and Sam was a distant presence always in the back of his mind and a town away but not near enough to have to see and be reminded of every day. Pretending they were strangers while, basically, living like they were didn’t come with the buckets of guilt he had to swallow every. single. day. now that he was at McKinley. Thinking what it was doing to Sam, feeling what it was doing to himself? Pretty soon something had to give. Or one of them was going to snap in half.
Blaine just hadn’t realized today might be that day. Maybe it’s because he was banking on himself being the one to finally break and say or do something he’d regret two seconds after he did the thing. Sam was always so patient. So kind. And from what was starting to become painfully obvious and simultaneously grate on Blaine’s nerves, so willing to help everyone else that he didn’t realize some people were close to leaving scuff marks on his back from where they wiped their feet on their way across it. Of the two of them who would be the one to unleash an outburst? Hopefully when it was just the two of them and not in front of the whole glee club including Kurt. He would have betted it was going to be himself. Hands down. Not..
Sam waiting for him after he’d walked Kurt to his car and kissed him goodbye caught Blaine off guard. Catching him standing against the wall directly in the path it was obvious Blaine would have to take from the auditorium to get to his car could only mean one thing. He was waiting for him. For a little over an hour. Blaine came to a halt, his keys rattled as he balled them up in a fist to steady himself. Two minutes after an awkward hello and Sam not answering his question on if he waited for him (obvious answers didn’t need out loud ones), Blaine said the only thing he could think of. Turns out? Probably the wrong thing..
By the time he was done listening, Blaine could have told you exactly which white rivets of his navy boat shoes had too many scuffs, which ones looked brand new, and how many cracks were in the pavement underneath them, too. But he managed to catch hold of Sam’s wrist before he could get too far away from him with a quick reach and a stubborn refusal to let go. “I’m not dead. I’m right here. That’s what I am trying to say. We don’t have to hide this much. I’m sorry. This is messed up. I don’t know how to fix it. I just..please, Sam? Wait..?”
The contrast between Lip Gallagher and Blaine Anderson went without saying. A notable silence contended with the patter of rain, as for the first time in ages, Lip realized how uncharacteristically quiet the house was. Everyone had their own shit these days, and while Frannie’s lungs would keep them all on their toes, lives were being lead and it wasn’t a barrel full of monkeys. Instead, Lip found himself mulling over the most simple of things. He didn’t want to be theatrical by any means, but most would look at the pair and see a very Prince and the Pauper situation. Various times, he had warned Blaine about dressing the way he did and showing his face in their neighborhood. People got jumped for less. Fuck, last year alone, one of the preps from Uni had been at a party two blocks over and they’d been stabbed after getting smart. When someone had a knife, you gave em what they wanted. Unless you knew better. Clearly prep dude hadn’t.
That of course was vastly off topic, instead he thought of a miniature Blaine in his little McMansion, with absent parents, and probably nannies out the ass because the only tie to that level of sickening wealth had been Amanda and the stories remained. While he had a stable foundation, and all the money in the world, isolation came to mind; even though the pair were very much within one another’s company. Hell, maybe he was reading too far into it. Maybe Blaine meant at night, waiting to fall asleep. Breaking from the small trance, he looked up at the other, curious. “It’s not usually like this.” Lip admitted, “You wouldn’t be able to hear yourself think before.” Carl blowing shit up, Fiona and one of her various toys fucking or fighting. Debbie arguing, or running her little daycare. Liam with Ninja Turtles or unsupervised porn on full blast, compliments of a passed out Frank. Fuck. Frank alone was meddlesome. And then there was Ian and his training, or getting caught up on the drama with Mandy and Mickey. Monica’s… Monica.
Fuck. It was undeniable how much changed. Plus he was no saint; over the years whether it be his own screaming matches, booty calls, or other dysfunction they all played their part. But now it felt empty. Wetting his lips, Lip nodded, drawing Blaine’s attention to behind the door where a poster hung, the corner of it peeling back revealing the beginnings of a MUCH bigger hole. “One of Frank’s favorite, and rare, sober activities.” Though some would have just assumed they’d put the bat through the wall in some sort of home invasion. “He’d get clean for a few days. Come back playing Dad, and start tearing the place apart. By the time he got to fixing it, he was already too fucked. Living rooms a lot worse too. And the attic.” Even so, his mind still stuck on Blaine’s original statement.
“You ever get lonely?” Even with the laundry list of problems both himself, and the rest of the Gallagher kids had to deal with, at the end of the day… They could always rely on each other… Save for a few special situations. But still, family was family and he was thankful for it. Without Fi, Frank would have undoubtedly accidentally killed the rest of them by now. Hot cars were all the rage in a drugged out stupor when the dealer was giving out samples. “I just… Can’t imagine, y’know?” Where would he have been if he had Blaine’s life? Would he have been one of those stuck up fuckasses that had his own head so far up his ass that his grasp on reality was null? The potential was there.
Undoubtedly, especially with his brain. He’d still have some good in him, but without the rest of his siblings, and the constantly sobering experience of his fuck up parents? What would all the money in the world buy? Clearly Blaine had the right heart, but Lip could be disgustingly arrogant. As it was, often he thought he was the smartest ones in the room, though putting down the bottle and actually looking in the mirror had started to make him realize that wasn’t always the case. From twelve years old, he walked through life either high or drunk, following in the footsteps of the deadbeats that he would forever be tied to. Without the humbling experiences, would he have ended up like one of those assholes that sold weed in the bathroom thinking they were above everyone else? “What was it like?”
Everyone back home would stare at him in disbelief if they knew where he spent almost every waking minute of his free time since falling into a friendship with Lip Gallagher. No. No over exaggeration. Blaine, quite literally, fell into the uncanny friendship via never quite growing past his severely light-weight status and way too much Purple Jesus. Which had nothing to do with religion or colors of the rainbow. Come to find out. Unless you counted praying to the porcelain god while throwing up the Lucky Charms you scarfed down trying to prevent kneeling for the rest of the night. Only to be let down in the worst possible way by Lucky the Leprechaun ever to exist. A stumble from a group of people who were more blurry than not followed by a trip and crash into a cursing, smoking just-not-as-drunk stranger who stuck around through that mess? Heck, even helped pick him up off the bathroom floor and put him in bed had gifted him one of the best people Blaine had ever known. With an iron stomach yet to boot? Happened to toss the two of them together and it just stuck. The rest, they say, is history.
Ever since that night, Blaine found himself gravitating towards Lip and his chaotic family with their weirdly functioning dysfunctional lives welcoming him into the fray far easier than people ‘of his own caliber’ ever would. There was no putting on a front with Lip. He’d see right through it anyway. No need to remain as put together, though that was a habit Blaine might always have without liquid courage to bring out another side of him. Being around Lip, the Gallaghers and by secondhand involvement, the Milkovich family was easy. Probably one of the easiest things Blaine’s ever done. Being relaxed back against a bunch of pillows pushed against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him, Blaine felt worlds apart from the live he normally lead. Perfectly so.
Turning his head at the mention of the hole barely hidden by the poster Blaine noticed weeks before Lip pointed it out tonight, Blaine stretched his feet and rocked his ankles shrugging as he looked back down at the other. “You should just start putting little plaques below it. Give the holes dates and titles. Frank Partied Too Hard Under The Bridge, March 2017. We could take pictures. You could use it as some edgy elective photography exhibit.” A warm smile and arch of his brow passed off the joke in a gentle, poking manner meant to make Lip smile back rather than to pick on anything about his father he couldn’t change.
Changing the subject was good, too. Even if the topic was aimed at him and his family situation. A subject Blaine always seemed to skirt around rather than dive into. He fell quiet, letting the patter of rain against the window fill the room as he thought of how to work his response without trying to make his past sound anywhere close to what Lip has gone through. In comparison. Blaine knew he was lonely but he had everything he wanted. Ignored, but his needs were provided for. He had money. Anything material he asked for, he could simply get. Polo lessons, sailing, country clubs and the list went on and on.
Lip grew up wondering if he’d have electricity the next day in the middle of winter. Or if his younger siblings would have something to eat the next day. Blaine, struggling for his father to love him for him was a hell of a lot different than Lip just giving up on his for the reasons he had. So how to word something you once thought was horrible when you’ve seen people like the Gallaghers? “Lonely. It was lonely. The quiet we have tonight is great when you barely get it. When that’s all you have? It sort of starts to feel like it’s seeping inside of you. Making your insides hollow and you start desperately trying anything to fill them up. I focused on people. On being what everyone wanted and hoping that’d fill me up again. Or fixing other people’s problems because fixing mine wasn’t going to happen. So,” he pressed his bottom lip against the upper and shrugged sheepishly. “I feel bad trying to make it sound like it was awful. It wasn’t. Not really. Could have been much worse than an empty house and quiet, you know?”
[ text ;; blaine ] That sounds…depressing? [ text ;; blaine ] Why don´t we go somewhere together? [ text ;; blaine ] Go see a show and get dinner?
( mssg » rachel | sent ) Why does it have to be depressing? ( mssg » rachel | sent )
Maybe this is a good thing! At least I’m getting out.. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Fine! Okay. I’m not convincing you or myself with that excuse. This whole idea of moving on and getting out there just hasn’t settled in yet. I’m trying. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Oh god, yes. Let’s go see something. Anything. Dinner, too. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Thank you, Rachel. I’ve been going crazy staring at the walls.
he wasn’t sure how to ask. in situations like this dave’s guard goes up, waiting for the TRICK. sebastian or kurt– or both are probably hiding somewhere trying to have another GAYTERVENTION with him. “i am.” he agrees. “but if this is another anti-bullying speech for an IT GETS BETTER campaign i’m not interested anymore.”
Blaine was doing his absolute best to keep a respectful distance away from Dave’s personal bubble after surprising him the way he did. But Dave running into him was rare and seeing him at the food court at the Lima Mall might be his only chance to talk to him before he disappeared again. “Uh no,” he stressed the second word and smiled right after, “I just wanted to say hello and talk. If it’s okay with you? I mean. If not? I can go..” His thumb jutted over his shoulder. “I won’t take offense if you’d rather I not be here.”
No. No. She clearly hadn´t expected him to come by. Ever since moving to her own apartment things had gotten a little…lonely. She might not have been over Finn´s death quite yet, and Rachel wasn´t sure if she ever would be, but moving and starting a new chapter of her life had seemed like a good idea.
The place wasn´t far from their old apartment, which was where Kurt still lived and most of the time they still hung out. Rachel made sure to keep herself busy though, because while living by herself was liberating in a way it was also pretty scary sometimes.
Today she had been home early from work and ordered herself some food from her favorite vegan place. Thinking she still had some time, however, Rachel had gone to take a shower and when she had heard the door bell she had panicked. Which was also why she was standing in front of Blaine, towel wrapped tightly around her body and hair dripping wet.
“Blaine?” She managed, almost a little out of breath. “Sorry. I thought you were my food.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Wait. Were we supposed to meet up today?”
After making a pitstop at his and Kurt’s favorite flower stand, Blaine took a leisurely walk the several blocks to Rachel’s apartment completely planning on surprising her with an impromptu train ride to Broadway. No questions asked. He missed Rachel Berry so bad. Their schedules were misaligned in every possible way lately and it didn’t allow them a lot of time to just enjoy one another’s company like they used to.
Today, though? Was a rare day where he had nothing to do and he was banking on the fact that it might be the case with her. If so? They were going to have lunch, do some shopping, and stroll past every theater they could find and toss daydreams back and forth to one another’s reflections inside marquee glass like they used to. Something they hadn’t done in forever.
“Hey! Oh..” Rachel Berry standing in the doorway in nothing but a towel and sopping wet hair was not what he expected. The stunned look on his face was quickly blinked away and he smiled, a little flushed but happy she was here (regardless of almost being naked). “No. Not your food. Just me. Sorry if I interrupted your shower?”
Swinging the roses from where he had hid them behind his back and holding them up to his nose, he inhaled their faint scent one more time and his brows shot up in a playful half apologetic, half pleading his case for accidentally making her run through the house soaked was well worth it cause pretty flowers and he was being sweet? “I brought flowers? But..uhm. I’ll hold onto them until. You know? Clothes.”
{text ✦ blaine anderson} … Katy Perry? AGAIN? You need some new material. {text ✦ blaine anderson} The bridge was a little sloppy. And you missed one of the key changes. But overall not bad, for someone who sounds an hour away from passing out.
( mssg » rachel | sent ) I was feeling nostalgic. Apparently by my hangover this morning? A little too nostalgic. ( mssg » rachel | sent )
You have my deepest apologies that you had to listen to three or more minutes of whatever that was. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) I guess it was more like minutes instead of hours. Sorry. How are you?
( sms → blaine anderson → sent ): uh, it’s cool ( sms → blaine anderson → sent ): your voice ain’t bad ( sms → blaine anderson → sent ): but the song choice is ( sms → blaine anderson → sent ):we gotta work on that
( mssg » sam | sent ) im’ stillsoryy because i don’t think most of it made sense ( mssg » sam | sent ) thanks! taht means a lot! ( mssg » sam | sent ) Wahts wrong with my song choice? ( mssg » sam | sent ) I picked taht one all for you caus it seemed liek a good idea at the time.
( mssg » sam | sent ) GEnesis is a classic choice.
pianokeysandbowties 