perhaps actually listening to blaine speak was a mistake. he probably didn’t realize how much the question hurt her, but brittany sort of wished quinn and santana were around to take him down for her all the same. she hadn’t logged into most of her social media accounts and had traded phones with tubbs to make sure she wasn’t tempted to check in. and, to be blunt, because she was afraid santana wouldn’t be checking in on her. ‘she’s been really busy lately. college is hard.’ she bit her bottom lip and shifted from foot to foot. ‘do you hear from kurt a lot?’
Blaine noticed the subtle changes of Brittany’s expression and regretted his question. Even worse? It was selfish but there was a thought that if Santana might not be contacting her much that maybe how little he’s heard from Kurt might be normal. You know? Perfectly okay. Because it was happening to someone else and that someone else was someone who loved Santana as much as he loved Kurt. And vice versa. Yeah? Why’d it suddenly just make him feel like he wished he could take asking her back when he had to answer her as honestly as she answered him? Or as honest as what–definitely–sounded like someone trying to convince themselves what they were saying was as okay. Just like he was. “I–I–no,” he perked up and smiled but his voice was pitched, “He’s settling in–. Getting used to the big city. I’m sure in a couple weeks? We won’t be able to hang up the phone as usual. I’m sure it’s the same with Santana. We can hang in there together until then? If you want?”
‘oh, i haven’t listened to you talk all year,’ she admitted. ‘but then i see you in your little child sized pants in math and it’s sad. you’re like that sad little poodle lord tubbington ran over on a drug trip. i’m still paying for his wheelie scooter. have you ever seen a two legged dog? so sad.’ brittany considered patting his head but thought better of it.
Lord Tubbington what? Did he really make her think of a half broken dog on a scooter? There could be worse things to make someone think about? Like a fully broken dog in a wheelchair? Wait! What was he thinking?! Blinking and shaking the mental images of scooter poodles and wheelchair bound dogs out of his head–Blaine made another attempt at making sure she heard what he had to say. "Oh? No problem, Brittany. I was just wondering–um–have you..you know? Heard from Santana lately? I mean.. At all?”
“You’ve got time?” Brittany asked, pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he’d want to offer, but her former-Warbler friend seemed so busy, most of the time. He’d been bouncing from club to club, for weeks. “It’s okay, if you don’t.” she rushed to add, eyes widening a fraction. “I know you’ve got your… wizard club. And your zombie club.” Though, those were just barely scratching the surface. Brittany might’ve been worried about him, if it didn’t always seem like he was having so much fun.
Brittany’s surprise that he’d have time for her sank a feeling of guilt into his stomach. She looked so hopeful and her backtracking to offer him an out felt even worse. She was the one person who knew what he was going through. Yet, they weren’t helping each other through the loneliness at all. His fault. Clubs and studying became his focus when someone else just as lonely as him needed it. “I always have time for you, Britt. We’re in this together,” he gave her a thunk of his head to her shoulder then smiled, “You and me? We both are dealing with the person we love being somewhere else. I’m never too busy. Clubs, books or whatever. If you need me? You got me. I’ll even fight my way through a hoard of pretend zombies to get to you. That’s how serious I am.”
All of the pamphlets in Ms. Pillsbury’s office were right; human contact ( but not from the janitor) did help to relieve stress. Still, it was sad. Before everyone left, they’d all promised to keep in contact. The switch in topic, though subtle, made Brittany wonder how much Blaine was talking to people. “Google just says what it is. I think to make a translate-y thing, you have to get it. The only ones I understand are Puck’s. He does the eggplant emoji and then the smirky face, y’know?” she said, mimicking the expression before continuing. “I’m glad he’s learning to cook, but he should really consider making something else. – Do you think he could help me make a translator? He totally gets it.”
“Britt? I’m not sure that his cooking skills are what he’s implying with the eggplant–uhm–nevermind. You could try talking to him. Or we could make one? Did you know I speak fluent emoji,” Blaine asked with a smile trying to cheer her up. He wanted to make sure she was okay above the fact that her worries mirrored the ones that crept up on him when he didn’t devote his full attention to the dozens of clubs, extracurriculars and various other hobbies he threw himself into trying keep himself distracted from the lack of Kurt being there. Without realizing, his free arm draped itself across the empty chair on the opposite side of where he sat. Muscle memory and habit. Hard to break. Even if there was no one there. “We could make a fortune if it takes off,” he egged her on trying to get a smile for his efforts, “It’d give us something to do? Before Puck thinks of it first. You know? After he’s finished ‘learning to cook’.”
“Having you been keeping up with everybody?” Brittany asks one day, apropos of nothing. At the very beginning of the school year, she’d kept up. Now, though, it’s been hard to stay in touch. “Mike Chang is the only one I talk to.” Aside from Santana, but that’s a given. “Everybody else just tweets a lot and all of the emojis are hard to understand. Not even Kiki gets it.”
“I’m sure they’re all busy transitioning into life outside of McKinley. I mean even Kurt’s been a bit busy getting settled in New York. Rachel too. I can understand why things’ve gotten quiet.” Blaine leaned over and hooked his arm around her shoulders offering a small smile. Truth time? He expected quiet from a lot of people. Except one. Quiet from Kurt was starting to eat at him. There was too much of it. Why bother Britt with how much it was starting to bother him though? Things would be fine. Like he said. Everyone was adjusting. Silence was to be expected. Yeah? Time to change the subject. “Have you tried Googling the emojis? Or you could invent an emoji translator. I’m surprised someone hasn’t done that yet.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here at Breadstix, Blaine Warbler. I didn’t think they had bird food here, but it’s nice to know that they don’t discriminate with species. That’s super cool of them.”
“Hi, Britt. We’ve had this conversation before. I was part of The Warblers. Not an actual– Um. Nevermind. How are you tonight? Dinner alone? Would you like company?”
pianokeysandbowties 