dustin gave an inward groan as a voice rang out beside him, the words directed in his direction. his gaze shifted over to the younger man, studying him for a long moment. he seemed familiar looking, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it at first. eyes narrowed as the man’s face nagged at the back of his mind, the mention of vocal adrenaline snapping the raven haired man back to attention.
“oh, you’re that kid from the all boys’ school. the one who hung around that tiny guy with the girly voice.” he took a swig of his drink before shrugging. “about a year or so. give or take. this is my second go around in this place. have you faced the nasty rejection streak yet?”
Blaine couldn’t help the cheeky, ear to ear grin at kid from the all boys school. Shaking his head, brows jerking up, he thumbed at the lip of his glass watching as his nail covered the tiny edge cut around the mouth. “It’s been a while since Dalton but, yes, I was that kid.” He huffed a sort of chortle at the memories mentioning his old school to someone who remembered it brought to mind. Laughter ringing through the halls, the way the sun would shine through stained glass and reflect in dozens of colors on polished marble floors. Music and stolen kisses. Dalton. God, he loved that school. Still did. Always would. His first real home.
Nostalgia creeping in was inevitable. He had half a mind to pluck up his glass, finish it off and leave before he gave it a chance by striking up conversation. Yet, here he was. Doing the opposite and letting the ghost of that tiny guy with a girl voice warm his chest as he swallowed another sip. Before putting him to rest with another smile and a point to Dustin’s glass. “Just graduated this past year. Still finding my niche, I guess. First yes came last week. How’s the second time coming for you? Better? I don’t think I ever got to see you perform. Wouldn’t mind changing that. Also? Next round’s on me.”
the raven haired man took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, as he was let into the party that a friend had invited him to. he was beyond exhausted, muscles aching with every movement he made. dustin wanted nothing more than to soak in a tub full of hot water with his favorite musical soundtracks playing the background, eyes closed and relaxing for once. but, between the show that he’d recently joined and the fact that he’d already agreed to attend this stupid party, he had no choice but to skip out on the bath and put in an appearance.
feeling more than a little grumpy, he put on a show for his friend, all wide smiles and playful banter as he subtly edged away from them and started towards the bar. if he was going to get through this, he definitely needed a stiff drink. barely repressing a yawn, he leaned against the bar and put in his order, a part of his mind wondering if he should have just said fuck it and given an excuse not to come.
“I swear I know you from somewhere,” Blaine sat at the bar rocking a glass back and forth in his hand. Eyes were narrowed into the contents. A light tan mixed with ice and the smell of wooden barrels and liquor came from it as the ice cubes clinked together. Whiskey that he’s been nursing way too long but even though high school and Ohio were a couple years away? Time had done nothing to help him build up any sort of admirable tolerance for the stuff.
In other words? He was still a bumbling lightweight that only needed maybe two of these and he’d be stumbling out to a cab way past the borderline of buzzed and heading straight to Drunk Town.
Recognition finally lit his face up and he turned on the stool, heels of brown leather dress shoes hooked into the rung of his chair tucking back in place. “Golds–Goolsby..,” he hummed when he nailed the name, “You were the Vocal Adrenaline coach. How long’ve you been here? New York, I mean?” If Blaine could wager a guess, the reason they were both at the party was because of one thing. The stage had to be it. Blaine had barely gotten his shoes scuffed by it (better than saying feet wet) yet but with the small part in the play he nabbed? He might be on his way?
“Exactly.” he agreed. “Small steps. Little things.” he grinned, cocking his head. “It’s hard when you’re, you know, not subtle about who you are. I always loved glittery eyeliner and being as big of a person as I can be. I’m not going to shrink myself to fit other people’s expectations. Never wanted to be that person. It meant I got my ass kicked a lot in high school but Carter was having none of it. Taught me how to fight.” he admitted. “Of course, Carter could still beat my ass even though I’m a lot bigger then her now.”
“It pays to have a badass older sister though.” he laughed, shaking his head. “She’s an actual FBI agent and not just a consultant like myself.” Jason leaned down to brush his lips across the kids knuckles. “My sister would kill me if I didn’t ‘kiss it better’ as you say. How about a good old fashioned american diner? I want bad meatloaf.”
“You shouldn’t. Remaining true to yourself is the only way you’re ever going to find people who truly appreciate who you are. I’m glad you decided that you wouldn’t bend for anyone. It takes a strong person to do that,” he stopped abruptly when Jason mentioned being beat up in high school. An air of those words hitting close to home thickened around him. A sympathy born of being there softened his eyes. An apology was on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it down like a bitter pill rather than drudge through the ‘It’s okay, it made me stronger..so I guess there’s that.’ awkwardness that always followed after finding someone who’s been there.
“I’m glad you have someone to keep you in line then,” he joked having took the change of subject and running with it as fast as possible towards a lighter tone of conversation. “I think we all need one of those, hm? I think mine is my best friend. Poor guy is stuck reminding me to always strive to be a…,” his breath hitched when an unexpected brush of lips ran across his knuckles. The sensation tripled from the bruises caused his heart to skip a beat. “Thank you,” he whispered blinking to get rid of his dazed expression. “Meatloaf? I–yeah. You’re making it far too easy but if that’s your choice? Meatloaf it is. Oh! Right! They were leaving! “We can walk. I’m only a few blocks down the street and the market’s on the way.” One last smile and Blaine took the lead, more than ready to get out of there for the rest of the night.
( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, Killer. Long time no see. Saw you checked in on Facebo what the fuck ( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, Killer. Long time no see. Little birdy told me you were in the area, what’re you doing on the West Coast? Concrete jungle bore you already, or did Kurt finally drive you aw ( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, Killer. Long time no see. Saw your insta last night, West Coast suits you. You should stay awhile. You were five minutes away from my place. You still in town? ( mssg » blaine | deleted) Hey, B. You still in town? ( mssg » blaine | deleted) You didn’t have to come to Los Angeles to see that billboard, Anderson. My agent told me it’d be going live in TS next month for the new CK campaign. Pictures really don’t do me justice, you should just come see in person. ( mssg » blaine | sent ) You’re better than Tourist Los Angeles, Killer. Saw your Insta this morning. If you’re still in town, I’m going to be insulted if you don’t actually let me show you around. And if on the off chance that doesn’t hook you, I know the best karaoke bar and dim sum joint in this entire state, don’t let me down.🎙 ( mssg » blaine | sent ) If you say no, know that I’m just going to assume you’ve gotten a little flat over the years and don’t want to ruin your rep.
( mssg » sebastian | sent ) Oh wow. Hey! You saw that post? Yeah, I’m still in town. I’ll be here for another two weeks. Part business, part pleasure. ( mssg » sebastian | sent ) Sorry. Wow. I can’t believe you messaged me.
( mssg » sebastian | sent ) It might’ve been a while since we last spoke or saw one another. But! You know what will never change? My love for both of those things. It’d be horrible shame to miss the best of either one “in the entire state” according to Sebastian Smythe’s standards. ( mssg » sebastian | sent ) Flat? Never. Or. I don’t think so? You can be the judge of that in person, I guess? When are you free?
“They call every year on my birthday now which is a step. Surprised the hell out of me when they called me up out of the blue three years ago since I hadn’t heard from them in seventeen years. They’re working it out.” he’d meant to gloss over that part, didn’t want him to know his parents didn’t want anything to really do with him since he ‘officially’. That he’d lived with Carter, his older sibling, since he was fourteen. But it did get better, even if it took half his life to do it. “Sometimes life surprises you.”
“Oh?” he asked a little surprised. “Food sounds pretty good to me actually. Yeah. Maybe I can monitor those fingers of yours.”
“I’m glad things are working themselves out for all of you. Hang in there. I’m sure it’ll keep getting better if they’re willing to work towards understanding you.” Blaine could understand how even the smallest steps felt like mountains you’ve climbed to the top of every chance you got to feel like you made headway with your parents in getting them to accept you. Any hint of approval was something worth clinging onto. Because you never were sure when you might get another one. Or lose what groundwork you made. It was nice to see that Jason’s parents put forth an effort that stuck. Slowly, but surely, his mother was doing the same. Now that his father was tapering out of the picture several years after his parents divorced. Only a matter of time before that was bound to happen. If it gave him his mother the happier and more herself she became? That was his celebration. Take what you can get, remember?
“Even if they can’t understand. You’re still their son. It’s nice to see they’re remembering that. Come on. Dinner’s on me then,” he glanced down at his fingers and held in a groan. Tomorrow was going to be ugly. Might as well admit it to himself. Smiling up at Jason anyway, he grabbed his gym bag off the bench and slung it over his shoulder. “Any requests?”
“I am damn near thirty-three years old. Still young but old enough to remember when the world wasn’t as welcoming as it is now. Old enough to remember telling my first crush how I felt about him and winding up in the hospital a week later. Parents were not happy about that. Their perfect little Taiwanese son was into guys?” he snorted. “They got over it. Things got better. Slowly. And yeah, I’ve been to the club and come out of it worse for wear. This-” he tapped the kids knuckles lightly. “Isn’t a bar brawl gone wrong. These punches had purpose.”
“Happy birthday, kid. And trust me, you’re no bother. I’d have given anything for some help when I got myself into some sticky situations.”
By the way his wrappings that they’d tossed in the trash were stained a gross dark brown red and the damage on his knuckles? Blaine wasn’t so sure the world made as many leaps and bounds towards acceptance that Jason was under the impression of. Or he could be getting frustrated and grumpy because he was hungry, in pain and still upset. A mix of both to sour his mood? Yeah. That was pretty on point. A sardonic smile touched on his lips, a huff of laughter with no real sound said he sympathized with the parental opinion by first hand experience. And hospital stays for a part of yourself you couldn’t change? Yeah, he’d punched that card too. Unfortunately.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he glanced up–gaze softened with understanding. “All of it. No one deserves that. Parents are supposed to support us. Some just miss the message.” Swallowing hard as his knuckles were tapped, Blaine’s breath hitched. “Probably more purpose than I want to think about..” Because the idea that he’d punched when he could have stopped crossed his mind more than once and the connotations behind that were something he’d rather not dwell on. Until later.
“Thanks. I appreciate it. The birthday wish and the help. Can I make it up to you? Are you hungry? I need a shower and food. Let me make you dinner? It’s the least I can do.”
( mssg » enzo | sent ) Yeah, of course! Hard to forget another performer. Especially when I met them in my favorite bar. ( mssg » enzo | sent ) How are you? It’s been a while. Still in New York City? Or did you move on to bigger things? Last I remember, you were on the up and up.
pianokeysandbowties 