A huff of laughter came at Blaine’s suggestion, the worst part was Lip could picture it far too clearly. “He’s not worth the money, plus—
“ He started up, unable to hold back the beginnings of a smirk, “Wouldn’t wanna encourage him. He’s liable to think he can make it as an artist if I plant that seed.” After all, it didn’t take much to send Frank down the road of any get rich quick scheme and considering how subjective art was, he didn’t doubt for a second that there was someone out there his father wouldn’t mind ripping off. “I like the idea though,” He grinned. might make the place look a lot classier than it was. If anything it would stick with the gentrification theme sweeping throughout the neighborhood.
Lip leaned over the side of the bed for a moment and opened the drawer to his night side table. He rustled around for a moment before finding the small box of joints he had rolled, and pulled one out before putting the lid back on and shutting the drawer. Rain always made him want to blaze, then again did he really need an excuse? Rolling back over he let his head rest against the headboard as he grabbed his lighter and lit the tip of the joint. It took a little while to get a nice glow, but once it finally stuck around, he inhaled deeply, taking the smoke deep into his lungs. As he did so, he extended the joint over to Blaine, should he want to partake.
He listened with a grin, eventually exhaling and avoiding a building cough that threatened to reprimand him after testing his limits a few seconds too long.”Fuck, everyone would flock for that shit.” Lip laughed, though his cough finally bubbled over as the cloud of smoke hang stagnantly above them, slowly dissipating. “Slum life: An Addict’s Renovations. The lesbians up the street would eat that shit up.” Art and other people’s suffering? That was so hot right now. At least to the people that always sped up every time someone from South Side passed them by on the sidewalks. They clutched their purses tighter, or got closer to their partners as if waiting for the lowlifes to strike and rob them for every penny they had.
Lip’s tongue wet over his lips as he listened, eyes quietly surveying Blaine as he spoke. He was pretty good at reading people when his dick wasn’t involved (and often trying to make him avoid the warning signs). Karen had been lonely too. Hell, even Mandy. Maybe not on the surface level of things, stuck within the depths of the Milkovich house, but she had gotten the shit end of the stick, sadly he had also played his part in that one. Fuck. If Blaine didn’t paint a picture. He’d seen the guy party, puke his guts out, and hold his own, and yet under all that, under the prep boy clothes and the old Hollywood hair was something a lot deeper. Something that oddly reminded him of Helene, Well, the good parts of her. It was almost uncomfortable how much he could relate. After all, wasn’t his quest always trying to fill that hole inside? The one he blamed Karen for leaving, but in reality it had been Karen who had temporarily filled it if anything. “Nah, don’t.” Lip shrugged off, shaking his head dismissively as Blaine tried to explain himself.
Lip less offered the joint now, but instead handed it over because if anyone needed a hit or five, it was Blaine. “Hate to break it to ya, bud… But I think that’s called depression.” A simplistic term that didn’t scratch the surface, but within their conversation there were different tiers. Lonely and quiet was one thing, but what Blaine was describing was far more. An affliction of perhaps the two, but it was all linked. “You’re still focusin’ on other people, aren’t you?” Lip questioned, looking over and actually meeting Blaine’s eyes. It’s not that he thought of himself as the charity case in the situation, but it made sense as to why Blaine wanted to be around the dysfunction so much more. “Did you ever get back to being what you wanted?”
Could have been much worse.
“Yeah, totally. Like, you could have had Carl stealing your socks so he could jerk off under the covers while you’re trying to study for your calc exam.” The grin slowly turned into laughter as Lip nudged Blaine’s shoulder, trying to lighten things a little bit, but at this point in life, the heavy shit didn’t really seem that heavy anymore, not unless he was in the thick of it and it was happening around him. “Did I mention we had bunk beds?”
From what little amount of Lip’s father he’s experienced, Lip was right. Frank Gallagher didn’t seem the kind to let an opportunity to not work while making as much money he could scrape up go by. Putting a paintbrush in his hand could either be a disaster or a blessing. Probably the first one of the two. Instead of painting his own work, Frank would be the type to try and crank out fake Monet’s to unsuspecting people saying he found them in an estate sale and got lucky. “True. Probably best to let him do whatever he might come up with next that doesn’t land him in jail for forgery,” Blaine mused with a hum and a shrug. If Frank put half as much effort as Lip has told him he puts into his scheming towards making something of himself? His family would never have had to worry about a thing. The guy would have been beyond successful. It was more than sad to know that his kids suffered for his lack of trying.
Blaine watched as Lip got all of his pot supplies out. He never participated in the whole getting high thing that Lip (and everyone around him) loved to do. But he didn’t mind when others did. Their choice, yeah? So, he watched with a building curiosity as Lip drew out a join actually a little disappointed that they were all rolled up instead of Lip going through the process of making one himself. Watching how concentrated the other got while he went through his ritual of rolling a joint was always entertaining. Ah well. Next time. With pot and the Gallaghers? There’d always be a next time.
Lip playing along with the hipster photographer idea made Blaine grin and lean in bouncing their shoulders against each others as he laughed. “See? You’re getting an idea there, though. Take your photography and sell it to people who are trying to seem cultured by just being..not and make money off their horrible attempts at seeming edgy or hip? That’s how real artists start for the most part, right? Selling depth to the rich who don’t know how to get it any other way? And a few of them who really understand get lucky enough to grab a piece or two before they’re all gone?” Ah well. That’s how museums started. Or maybe it was the contact high he didn’t realize he was getting as he breathed with the heavy cloud above their heads that made him invent the whole idea. He was a little too relaxed to think too hard about it.
Then he was blabbering about his homelife. No doubt his tongue loosened by the warmth his body was sinking into and by the time he was done, he felt like an apology was in order. Of course Lip wouldn’t let him give one. Lip never let him apologize for himself. In a very different way than his friends back in Ohio used to dismiss his nature to excuse himself if he thought he had done something to earn it. They dismissed the whole situation. Sort of negated everything around it that happened. Or honed in on one thing about it that made Blaine pretty sure they didn’t want to let completely go (because it’d be brought up months later) but felt obligated to accept or dismiss his apology as a means of acceptance.
Lip always made him feel like whatever slip he made didn’t matter. Because that’s what humans do and in the long run of things? Letting stuff that wasn’t a big deal slide was how friendship worked. Mistakes happen, but they aren’t that big of a deal because the bigger picture was way more huge than that tiny blip of oops. “Depression? Yeah,” he smiled at the thought and glanced down to the blanket he pinched between his thumb and forefinger and began grazing the edges of them over the cotton. “Not as much as I used to,” Lip caught his eye and he didn’t look away. “In a better, more healthier way now, I think. It’s always gonna be my nature to focus on people. But I focused a whole lot on me since I’ve been here too.”
“Back to what I wanted? I’m getting there.”
”That happened? How’d you.. Wow. Wow.” GROSS! Oh thank God he was the little brother. Blaine blanched with a laugh and shook his head at the offered joint handing it back with a grateful smile. “Not sure a non-filtered joint is great for the voice but thank you. However. No thank you for the image you put in my head that I don’t think any amount of wishing I could forget that is going to relieve. Also. What about you? Ever think you’ll focus on you completely? Because..sort of pot calling the kettle black here..”
( mssg » blaine | sent ) this is stupid. whats it gonna fix blaine???? like are you suddenly gonna be like okay bye kurt? cause thats not you and we both know it ( mssg » blaine | sent ) lol dont worry blaine im gonna be okay. im always okay ( mssg » blaine | sent) talk to you later in glee club maybe maybe not, duh ( mssg » blaine | sent ) because i needed SOMEONE to talk to that wasn’t you. tina would just tell you and try and play doctor phil and santana would get back to you AND kurt. obviously cant talk to kurt cause lololol who else am i gonna talk to when everyone else would just loop back to him or you?? like yeah quinn was a crappy gf somtimes but she listened to me and tried to hellp after i went to her so. it is what it is ( mssg » blaine | sent ) i’m at the park but i really dont wanna c u right now. i said what i had to say
( mssg » sam | sent ) It’s not me to ignore that I’m hurting you either and we both know that, too. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to keep doing this to you. ( mssg » sam | sent ) No. You always say you’re okay. Even when you’re not. That’s not being okay. That’s making everyone think you’re okay because you don’t want to worry them. Trust me. I know how that goes. ( mssg » sam | sent ) Oh. Right. How did I not get that? ( mssg » sam | sent ) I understand. You’re right. You deserve a friend you can trust. I only wish you would have come to me instead. Having you hurt this much isn’t something I’d ever want. You know I’m not a cruel person. I might not be able to wave a magic wand and find a solution for everything..but..
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you try to understand that I still lo–care about you so much, Sam.” Blaine’s voice picked up where his messages left off, quiet steps coming to a stop beside the picnic table Sam was sitting on top of. He knew where he’d be. It was where they’d disappeared off to several times before and they were nothing if not creatures of habit when it came to safe places and sentimental stuff. Thus the whole rubber band effect they kept having on each other. They’d try to get away, they’d stretch fate and distance until they couldn’t stretch it anymore then crash back together in a tangled mess. Seems like lately that mess was a daily occurrence Blaine had no idea how to end.
Unless..
Hands in his pockets, Blaine turned his gaze towards the sky overhead. A blanket of stars and clouds painted across the inky blue black might’ve been the perfect thing to watch together if their situation was different. God. That idea brought back memories. Though no smile came with them like it normally did. Instead, Blaine’s face seemed lost when he glanced over at Sam. Holding his breath and debating on whether or not he should put what he was about to say out into the universe because that made them real, tangible things that he’d either do or not but would have to answer for either way. Silent thoughts were one thing. Making them solid by putting your voice behind them? Made them impossible to take back.
One last dart of hazel across blue, his choice was made as he sat on the bench right next to Sam’s foot.
“…I think it would be better if I went back to Dalton.”
( mssg » blaine | sent ) text messages is the only time i wanna have this conversation. and its NOT both ( mssg » blaine | sent ) you can’t come over cause i’m not home and even if i was home everyone would be asleep and theres no way we could be ninjas right now and i cant wake anyone up so like TTYLIGCMMN ( mssg » blaine | sent) dont YOU even try ( mssg » blaine | sent ) the first one to come to mind was kurt otherwiSe we wouldnt be in this situation and that should have toLd me what i needed to know but i didnt wanna see that and maybe it took quinn pointing it out to me to realize it but that was your answer already cause if it wasnt things would be DIFFEReNT and you know it blaine
( mssg » sam | sent ) No. We need to talk about this in person. Please? There is no way text messages can cover what we need to say. Especially not when you’re drunk. And I just need to see you and make sure you’re going to be okay.. ( mssg » sam | sent ) TTYLIGCMMN? ( mssg » sam | sent ) Where are you? Please tell me. ( mssg » sam | sent ) Sam? Why would you listen to Quinn about anything between you and I? She has no idea how deep this goes. If you want an answer about something? Ask me. Not her. Or anyone else. Me.
❝…” Yeah, I did… Sebastian stared at him as Blaine echoed his words, with a stupefied expression, expecting not so patiently for him to elaborate even though he had a feeling Blaine wasn’t going to. Or that his elaboration wasn’t going to help much. Now that the doctor was gone and he was feeling a little less dizzy, he could see how unusually pale Blaine looked, and a glance down told him he’d been twisting his fingers in the nervous way he used to whenever something was on his mind. But the time when Sebastian used to notice (or care about) those little things was long gone, and he forced himself to look away. It was NOT his job to care anymore, and it’d taken him what? Almost a decade to start jotting that down? He wasn’t going off the rails now.
“I can’t believe you.” He stated, shaking his head. “Yeah? Well, most of us don’t live in romcoms, Blainers, and no matter what those might say, you really CAN’T smile your way into a non relative’s hospital room. I’d know.” He’d spent many a night alone in hospitals, from a kid to adulthood, it wasn’t anything new for him, and that type of movie magic was a little too strong for even Blaine Anderson to pull off. “Of course he isn’t.” He sighed out, then stopped.
“You did?” He’d thought that meant the didn’t know, Shirley Temple, that was, that Blaine had made some excuse, because when it came to Sebastian and Blaine’s gang of muppets he, somehow, no matter the circumstances, always ended up as the excuse. He raise an eyebrow as he glanced at him, before licking his lips. He tried to reach for the table and winced. “Since you’re here. Can you… Get me some water..? I’m freaking parched. The painkillers…” He made a gesture towards his mouth, he was used to that too, having had his fair share of hospital rendezvous. " ‘Throw a wild guess out there, and say they don’t know about the fiancé part?” He glanced at him. He hadn’t even expected Blaine to tell them he was with Sebastian at the hospital, so he wasn’t exactly judging, but still- “Tell me why I shouldn’t tell the next nurse the truth, here.” He said slowly, as he looked at him, not defensive now, just tired. Exhausted.
They both knew where this road lead. And it wasn’t anywhere good. It was beyond ironic that he was the one not willing to “pull the prank” so to speak and fool these people, to tell the lie, to play the part, because in this case, the part would leave him hanging, dry, and hurting a hell lot more than this car accident, and he knew it. They’d done this so many times now. It never ended well. Either one or both of them ended up injured one way or another, and Sebastian was tired. He was tired of having any kind of hope. It’d been years now, but even just being in the same room like that, having Blaine say he wanted to take care of him, that he was worried for him, was already starting to cut him open. “Can we just skip to the end? You heard doctor strange, I’m fine. I’m gonna be great. Thanks… For being here, getting– us engaged and all that jazz. Time to go back to your actual fiancé. You know, that one you took a town over to my boarding school, to propose to. I assume he’s still the one.”
Blaine was obviously not done messing with his fingers. His hands slid out from underneath him, dug at his knees. Knuckles bled to white as he clasped them together, shoved them between his thighs and dug his thumbnails into the fleshy part of his hand just under them on their opposite sides. Later one, there’d be crescent shapes pressed in that might leave a bruise. He was searching for any amount of approval of what he did. For the reasons why. For Sebastian to show him any sign that he was glad he didn’t wake up hurting and alone in the hospital. A smile. It could be tiny. Or laced with some snarky comment that might brush off how much he meant what he was saying. Anything from the pages of their past that might amount to something substantial enough to hang onto.
What he got was anything BUT what he was looking for. ‘I can’t believe you.’ Clamping his mouth shut, he immediately broke eye contact and his lap was instantly locked in his sights. His entire posture sank making him seem smaller than normal where he sat on the large sleeper chair. “I know you can’t. That’s why I lied..” Lifting his chin just enough that he could peek over Sebastian, he nodded. “I didn’t think you’d want anyone else here.” Seems Sebastian didn’t want ANYONE here (including him) but Blaine had the foresight enough to know that Kurt was probably the LAST person on Earth he’d want. Risking what might happen when he got home, he’d warded him away.
Seeing Sebastian wince, Blaine was already half out of his seat when he was asked for water. Trembling hands reached for the pitcher as soon as he rushed close enough to grab it. Water splashed onto the fake wood grain surface of the hospital bed table but he managed to get enough into the cup. “Because I’ll leave without you getting me kicked out of here. If that’s what you want me to do. And it is. I can see.” Once his hand was free of the cup, he stepped back and pressed his lips together. He could see it clear as day when he met Sebastian’s gaze. His hope to be a soothing presence was a failure in the worst kind of way. It was time to go. Staying any longer was only going to worsen the insult he hadn’t meant to dish out from the beginning.
“Okay,” his heart broke in ways it shouldn’t. In ways it didn’t have the right to. As Sebastian said, he’d made his choice. Starry eyed and love struck, he made his choice. What time did between now and then didn’t matter. His throat felt like it filled with rocks that were digging in and tightening up his chest, stomach. One word and Blaine turned, went back to his chair and grabbed his coat from where he had it shoved into the corner and draped over the back to use as a makeshift pillow. What else did he have left to say out loud anyway? Sebastian didn’t want to hear that he was welcome. That he was here because he was petrified he might’ve lost him on the street. That he didn’t want to go and a huge part of him never wanted to leave. Sebastian wouldn’t want to hear any of it. His chance for an open ear died at the bottom of a staircase. Warmth surrounded him when he pulled it on.
“This was selfish. A mistake. I’m so sorry for how I made you feel, Sebastian.”
david was SMART enough to realize when he was being watched. he could feel the stare burning into his neck, and david had enough sense to know to be cautious. with dwayne off on another rampage – was he even still in santa carla, david wondered? – and max sequestered behind the counter of a record store, there was no one by his side to protect him if someone decided he was an easy target. but why would he be? surely no one, not even the gangs around santa carla, looked at him and saw someone worth fighting.
every time he chanced a glance back to see who had their eyes on him, it was always the same man. so well put together, always neatly dressed, always impeccable. and he had to admit the man was attractive. attractive men staring at men could only mean one thing after all. that was far easier to deal with than someone trying to fight him, someone wanting him dead. he knew how to handle someone who WANTED him.
he took his bike off to the side, kept it safe against the fence down the way before walking up behind the stranger. his footsteps are as quiet as he could make them as he slipped up beside him, arms leaning against the fence as he finally made his presence known.
“ looking for someone? “ david teased, blaine’s position on the fence forcing him to look up to see him. “ you should know you don’t get anything you want in santa carla just by LOOKING. “
Blaine should have known better. That losing sight of David was a mistake that could end terribly if the other was aware he’s been following him for as many nights as he has. Why he didn’t get up and leave was beyond his usually keen rationale. Or maybe he was hoping he’d be found out and David would be the one to approach him because his nerves just weren’t catching up to his want to talk to him.
Frowning in disappointment that the blond vampire was gone–toes stretched down to dig at the sand and grass underneath the fence. Maybe tomorrow night things would go different. He’d stop silently watching from the shadows and walk up to him, throw everything to chance and see where the chips might fall. Or.. Who knows? Tomorrow would tell. Chances were it’d be a repeat of tonight but Blaine could hope his willpower would kick in and stick around.
Seems fate might be doing him a favor for once. Because to Blaine’s shock, someone came to stand beside him that had no clue was coming. For someone with preternatural hearing, he’d missed the steps of… Oh no. Common sense said to look up and confirm his suspicions of why he might not have heard..
Him.
“I..,” mouth agape–the vampire looked mortified. Head tilted back so he could get a few of his pursuit up close, Blaine’s brows crumpled together and he smiled (if you call the uneven, apologetic wobble of his lips a smile). “How long did you know..?”
Strong fingers wrapped around Blaine’s wrist, making up for the lost contact he had instantly missed. His eyes were fixed to the ground, as the events from the past few minutes flashed in pictures in his mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to… GOD, he wanted to but his head always spoke louder than his heart. It was how he was raised. His Father always told him that would make him a man. It was almost INSTINCT to grab Blaine by the wrist, to hold him in place and to stop him from leaving. They had definitely gotten themselves into a messy situation already, and Hunter was unsure how much better he’d feel if Blaine did leave. He would be left alone with hi thoughts, something he knew would keep him up ALL NIGHT.
“STAY.” It was so quiet, Hunter barely even heard it. He breathed it in a whisper, and finally his eyes moved from the floor to lock with Blaine’s. There was suddenly a feeling of weakness, of need. All things Hunter was unfamiliar with. Maybe he wasn’t what Blaine wanted, but hell, in that second he didn’t care. Maybe he was only a stepping stone to help him get over his ex, but in that moment he would be anything that Blaine needed him to be. “Stay.” He repeated. “I don’t want you to.. Go.”
Stopped in his tracks–Blaine blinked down at the hand holding his wrist then turned enough to run his gaze up Hunter’s arm and directly into his eyes. The confidence he exuded every time he performed with the boys he’d come to miss and ache for so bad that he’d have done anything to be near (and finally had that opportunity) was gone. Unsurety, hurt and confusion was left behind turning the rims of his eyes red and glistening. Blaine didn’t make a movement to pull his wrist free from the strong grip holding him in place. He only bit his lip and squinted, head tilted as he tried to figure out what Hunter really wanted. Words were one thing. Stay. Go. The truth was something he was starting to believe he had to see instead of trust in.
“What do you want me to do? I don’t understand. I don’t want to make any more mistakes. Not here. With you or at all. I can’t ruin this place when I just got here.” His greatest fear. That he’d make a mistake and Dalton would be filled up with regret and ghosts he couldn’t escape either. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to prevent that from happening. Even if he had to keep everyone at an arm’s length and be a little lonely (but happy) like before when no one was looking. And everyone’s sunshiney golden boy when they were.
“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.
//Having one of those moments were I came back to my desk and had it confirmed that I know some pretty freaking awesome people here. On a day when I really needed it. Saving these cause they mean everything, and also, group promo. Because not only are the characters amazingly written but the muns are insanely wonderful and I’m lucky to know them!
pianokeysandbowties back up 