Mason was more than serious about believing in ghosts. There was no way that there weren’t ghosts in the world. Of course he’s heard that Dalton’s haunted, but that was also because he was always very easily scared by things. When Blaine came up behind him, Mason turned around and raised an eyebrow at the fellow Warbler. Chicken? Mason McCarthy was not a chicken, but he also was very terrified of pissing off ghosts, so they definitely were running into an issue there.
“Why you and I specifically?” Mason inquired before nodding at Blaine’s suggestion of a camping trip. It was going to be far too creepy and not at all fun, but he never backed down from proving he wasn’t anything but fearless. “Then again, it’s probably because they think we’re the only ones who honestly could handle it.”
In retrospect, Mason pretty much figured that fact also had to be true. Hesitating, the brunet finally just nodded at the whole idea. “Fine, but if we’re possessed by the end of the night, we’re going after the upperclassmen.” Childish, sure, but Mason was also very terrified that it was true. Ghosts weren’t a force to be reckoned with. As the taller male motioned to the hallway, he looked over at Blaine so that he could follow him to the storage rooms. “So.. between you and me– do you think it’s haunted?”
“I think you’re right. The last thing the Warblers need is two members running out in the middle of the night with the cackling of some jerkish upperclassmen chasing their backs. You and me? WE GOT THIS.”
Blaine hadn’t the slightest clue if he believed in ghosts or not. Okay. A part of him certainly did. There had to be more to life than just the physical sense of where they are while they’re living and breathing. To think that energy just fizzles out and they become nothing was too morbid of an ending to think of. Maybe another, more hopeful and romantic side of him, wanted to believe reincarnation was what waited for them on the other side. Could be.. No. Definitely. There could be both. People who were ready to move on and learn again. Or people too lost to want to let go. That had to be it.
And since Dalton was beloved by anyone who walked it’s halls, it would be easy enough to assume that there might be ghosts lurking here and there. Why not the orchestra storage? At least they could find some peace and quiet away from the living there if they wanted to. What a fantastic time to have a spiritual discovery! On the ebb of a night spent inside the very rooms he just deemed a ghost retreat!
“Fair enough,” he chuckled up at the slender boy as they solidified their resolve to stick it out and go through with the plan. “They’d deserve it.” The question caught him off guard and he bit his lip before it dropped open for a breath or two. “Do you? I..uh.. Yeah,” he whispered like he was afraid someone might hear. Both brows jerked up as he glanced around and leaned in closer. “Between you and me? Even if it isn’t? I think we should make them think it is.. ,” here came that cat-that-ate-the-canary grin, “And we got a whole night to make up a story that’ll make them sleep with the lights on for the rest of the year.” On that note? “You..um..think we should go get our things ready and settle in before it gets dark?”
“I know this probably sounds like the weirdest invitation you’ve ever heard but..hear me out?” Blaine curled his fingers towards his palms and shoved them into the pockets of his grey slacks as he approached Mason. Thank God, the hallway was empty. No one needed to hear the pitch he was about to make. No one but Mason, who missed the entire leading up to part of this conversation, and was about to be caught up very quick. MOSTLY.
“Some of the upperclassmen swear Dalton is haunted. They dared the Warblers that we are too chicken to find out. We all know we aren’t.. There was an argument.. Um. Long story short? They dared us that you and I wouldn’t last a night in the old orchestra storage rooms. I told them they were wrong. Soooo. Impromptu dusty creepy room indoors camping trip? Maybe?”
“Can you believe we’ve both been nominated for prom king? In my opinion, may the best man win–
but we both know it’s most likely going to be me.”
Oh the McCarthy ego—- how strong it can be.
“I know. I can’t believe it either. Crazy, right? I agree may the—” Oh. Wow. Did he really just say that? A brow cocked high on Blaine’s forehead. McCarthy ego meet Anderson courtesy even if it’s hanging on by a thin, oh no you didn’t thread.
” Someone at the bar keeps lookin’ at us dancing. ” It was an innocent comment whispered to his sister as they danced around together. Mason was maybe a drink or two in– confident enough to get his flirt on with the cutie pie who kept staring at him. Madison nodded to him and Mason just grinned and moved over to the stranger to clear his throat.
“ I see you staring at me. I see where you want to be, ” Mason said, moving to grab the other’s hand– or at least offer it to the guy at the bar. Oh god, I’m touching hands with someone seriously beautiful.
Mason’s liquid courage must’ve been in the water about two scotch and ices ago. Blaine watching him from his spot at the bar would never have lasted as long as it did if he wasn’t feeling the warmth of alcohol in his belly and flowing through his veins to make him less self-conscious that he might be caught staring. He was gorgeous but Blaine couldn’t tell if he was taken. Or out with a friend? Sister maybe? They sort of resembled one another. There was hope in the fact he wasn’t being some kind of creeper slash hopeful homewrecker when the guy started towards him.
Blaine felt his face heat up. This could go two ways. With him being told to ‘stop staring’ or–. A hand slid into his and what he heard was the most quizzical thing ever. Curiosity twinkled to life in hazel eyes–his smile was tugged more towards one corner as he slowly stood up from his chair. “I–Yeah. I was. So much for lying that away and trying to seem less stalkerish. But–where do you think I want to be? I’m curious..”
“It’s not the most ideal considering Madison wouldn’t be able to go to Dalton with me,” he explained quietly, clearing his throat and glancing around the room to avoid confronting how awful he felt. He muttered about how ‘he was sure some people would make a huge deal about Madison not going if Mason went and then muttered more about transphobic assholes under his breath. – && Mason never cursed, but this situation just made him want to even more. He hated people that made him uncomfortable.
“Don’t get me wrong, B– I love this school, I do. I have Titan pride all the way through and through and I love the New Directions but at times it can be unbearable. Between the hockey jerks– er, excuse me jocks and even Coach Sue, I’m just getting…” he sighed and slumped into an empty desk. “I’m getting tired of it all. I just want a place where at least I feel I’m going to be listened to if I speak up about an issue. Here since Coach Sue has the majority of the power due to the Cheerios and their boosters, I’ll just be digging myself a bigger grave and everyone knows it.”
Glancing at the other, the brunet ran his hands through his hair and ruffled it up a bit. “I haven’t even told Madison I’m thinking about transferring. She’ll flip.” It just felt so suffocating around McKinley sometimes.
Blaine heard the mumbles from some students about Mason. None of the ones who didn’t understand seemed to want to make many strides to try to. Not all. But most. Most in the way that it borderlines on all but what else can anyone expect from McKinley? Where just as you think you make leaps and bounds on being accepted? Someone armed with a slushie and a bevvy of words that are sure to make you want to crawl into a hole and never come out comes along to take that progress and shove it down your throat with the bitter pill of intolerance.
He just wasn’t sure if this school was ready to be like Dalton.
And it was a horrible thought but he was fairly certain that the student body as a whole–not his friends and a few more enlightened others or outcasts of different degrees–were up to the challenge. He’d love to say they were making a difference. Maybe they were. But it’d be a long, long time in the making. Then there were kids like Mason. Who were put through hell and still could unblinkingly say that they had pride for the very place that hurt them over and over. Those were the people that’d change this school. Someday.
Moments like this made Blaine ache for Dalton. He didn’t ‘regret’ his–now two time–choice and he wouldn’t stay it out loud if he did. The New Directions would probably go back to being suspicious that he was ready to leave at the drop of a hat. Mason though? Mason deserved truth, safety and nothing but the love and happiness he projected to anyone within a five foot radius. How anyone could hurt him just dug under Blaine’s nails to the point–it really pissed him off. Taking him by the hand–Blaine stepped closer.
“Listen, Mason. Your sister loves you and she’s going to want you to be safe and happy. I know what it’s like to suffocate in an open hallway and no one is taking the time to help you. And the only place I never felt that way was Dalton.” God, he wished he had something better than transferring to give Mason. But boiled down? Dalton was the best place for him to be. “I mean. Dalton isn’t perfect. It has it’s issues but as far as feeling safe there? And heard? McKinley can’t compare. It’s going to be a long time before it could even try..” Blaine pursed his lips, feeling guilty for saying things so bluntly but..Mason asked and this was how he felt.
“Blaine, can I talk to you about something, please?” Mason asked, pulling the bowtied dapper president of the student body aside because he was just nervous. “I– I need to talk to you about something. About your past- er, in specifically Dalton.” The twin was so nervous even talking about this because he hadn’t mentioned it to Madison. He hadn’t talked to anyone about the decision to potentially transfer. Hesitating, Mason just grabbed Blaine and pulled him into an empty classroom. “Is the no bullying thing a legit thing at Dalton? And– and do.. I, I mean logically they should let me into an all boy’s school but.. would–” There’s hesitation in the brunet’s voice. He’s frustrated more than ever.
“Is that going to be an issue, do you think? I know the school’s old with tradition and everything.”
Blaine startled and blinked when Mason appeared out of nowhere and he was suddenly pulled aside. The unexpected halt caught him by surprise but the nervousness in Mason’s voice quickly swapped puzzlement for concern. “Sure. Mason are you–,” he was easily led into the classroom but his steps came to an abrupt stop as soon as the jittery boy spoke up again and mentioned Dalton. His past there? What on Earth would Mason want to know about that for? Wait. No bullying policy? Why was Mason concerned about that? Blaine’s stomach sank. Was he so oblivious to what was going on around him that he missed seeing something he should never have missed?
“I–well–no. I don’t think–I don’t know. I mean–I can find out. I don’t think Dalton would turn you away and if it did–there’s options to consider if you really want to be there,” he paused and eyed Mason closely barely believing they were having this conversation. “Is that why you’re asking. You’re thinking of transferring? Can I ask–why? What’s going on, Mason?”
It’s terrifying to be drugged- and Mason’s pretty damned positive that’s what’s going on here. It makes him want to throw up- to get whatever is in his system out of it. It’s worse than chocolate– something he’s deathly allergic to, well.. cocoa beans at least.The 6′1 male is genuinely shaking. He feels like he’s about to pass out and by the second Blaine pulls him outside, he’s looking like he’s completely glazed over. English isn’t something he’s comprehending.
He stares down at the smaller male and his eyebrows furrow. Blaine’s clearly talking to him, but he can’t make out the words. “Speak clearer,” he asks, with an added ‘please’ at the end. His heartbeat is pounding and he feels like everyone else is running while he’s in slow motion. Bright eyes scan the night sky as he tries to look around for someone. He had been talking up this guy at the bar for a bit- but he’s nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t like he had tasted anything funny in his drinks either.
Mason’s about to fall- he can feel it, and it’s not like Blaine’s strong enough to get him into the uber, so he’s trying his hardest to stand up straight, but his knees are like jell-o This is the worst feeling Mason McCarthy has ever felt.
“I– B, I need to sit down. —- Please.”
Oh my God! Blaine was a mix of terrified and enraged. Hazel eyes screamed that he wanted to go back into the club, find the person that did this and use them in place of the the punching bag hanging in his apartment that he’s neglected for months. His was face drained of color and blank from worry as he stared up at Mason. Trembling hands did their best to hold onto him so he didn’t topple over once they were on the sidewalk and on their own. The few people who passed by didn’t pay them much mind. More than an glance or two.
He had to force himself not to give a second’s worth of a glance to anyone who got too close to them wondering if the psycho that did this was sneaking out to see if Mason was left alone. Focusing on his friend was the main concern. Not anyone else. Or the fact that he really really wanted to punch the guy. “I’m sorry, Mason. I’ll try to speak slower,” and he did through wrapping his arm more firmly around Mason’s slender waist and holding tight.
“Sure. Let’s sit down. Keep talking. Okay?” He gently swerved them away from the foot traffic and gingerly lowered himself towards a bent knee to help Mason down on the sidewalk.
“You’re going to be okay. I promise. Do you want to go to the hospital,” he asked but was already debating on taking him anyway. Who knew what he was on? Or how much?
Mason stared at Blaine, who was slightly blurry- which was weird. Mason had never needed glasses. Man, that was going to suck if suddenly he needed them. He reached out to the other male and clung to the man’s arm cautiously- a bit now nervous at this. First time clubbing was now suddenly going to become last time clubbing, or that was how Mason was vowing in his head now.
“I just said I didn’t feel good Blaine. Like, I want to go back to my apartment.”
There was a pause from the taller male as he looked around. Where the hell did he even live from here? Looking around the club- Mason dug his nails into Blaine, feeling even more terrified now.
“Blaine, wh– what is going on?”
Unable to hear Mason trying to get his attention the first time over the volume of the music–Blaine gave him a curious look and didn’t really like what he saw when he studied him close. He couldn’t help the ‘are you okay’ that followed. Honestly–Mason didn’t look all that great. When a hand clutched his arm–Blaine’s concern only worsened and he quickly curled his fingers around a slender wrist. Was he going to get sick?
“Okay. Sure. Let’s get out of here..,” Blaine stopped when Mason paused and instinctively followed the other man’s glance around the club wondering what he was looking for. There wasn’t anything to find–probably for Mason–not even his bearings.
A sharp breath cut through his lips when fingernails bit into his skin but he didn’t do anything to remove them as Mason when from lost to obviously afraid. Did someone put something in his drink? Blaine’s concern tripled at the thought. “Hey? Just breathe for me okay? Let me get you out of here. I’ll page an Uber and we’ll get you back to my place faster than yours.”
“Come on. Let’s go. Mason? What were you drinking?”
pianokeysandbowties back up 