New York, You're Perfect

 I own none of this, sadly enough :( Much as I wish I did!

                The music blared around the club; loud, obnoxious and making the throbbing in Kurt’s temples kick it up a notch. He put his empty glass down on the bar, feeling slightly too hot and suddenly felt the need to get out of bustling room. He didn’t need to be here anymore, the party for him had wound down hours before, and now he was near enough alone as all his friends had headed off to pick up girls for the night or some other mundane activity he didn’t care about. If he was perfectly honest, he hadn’t actually wanted to come out tonight. It was more of an obligation than anything, considering the original party he’d been at was in honour of his big break.

               That’s right; Kurt Hummel was now a Broadway star as of the previous night. After five years in New Yorkof hard times, endless auditions and singing in pubs and café’s just to make ends meet, he had finally gotten his big break and was now playing Danny Zuko in the latest revival of Grease. Now he and his friends were all out celebrating after their opening night. But as exciting and wonderful and dream-come-true-esque the evening had been (after all, he’d been singing as the lead in an iconic musical before a packed audience on a Broadway stage), he couldn’t help but be haunted by the memories of the past five anniversaries of this date. August 22nd; Blaine Anderson’s birthday. He would never acknowledge this aloud, but this date still meant the World to him, even after all this time. Last year he’d spent the night alone in his apartment, blasting Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream on repeat at top volume and steadily drinking his way into a hospital bed. The same could be said for the year before that, and every August 22nd for the past five years. Very few people really recognised the pattern, and those that did didn’t understand the significance of the date, because after the break-up, Kurt had cut ties with everyone, even his brother, who might, in five years time, remember the birthday of his high-school boyfriend.

                 Finally able to escape the throngs of people dancing and grinding and making out on the dance floor, Kurt burst out of the front door into the cold air. It must be close to sunrise, he thought idly, taking it the faint light casting soft shadows on the street as he made his way across towards his apartment. He made his way up the dingy staircase of his building, passing dirty white doors until he reached one painted a bright scarlet. He was Kurt Hummel; of course he had to stand out somehow. He slammed the door behind him, and made his way over to where his laptop was open on his desk. He pulled up his facebook page, ignoring the little red banner in the corner informing him of a new notification as his fingers went into autopilot, typing in the name of the birthday boy himself. It was definitely not the first time he’d done this, looked up Blaine’s facebook page that is, but before he’d never felt the urge to message something, leave some evidence of his past with the handsome boy, smiling slightly with and arm slung over the shoulder of Kurt’s own brother in the display picture. He clicked hesitantly on the message button, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he debated whether he really wanted to do this.

Happy Birthday Blaine! Have a good day and try not to make out with Rachel St James when you got trashed ;) Jesse would appreciate it even less than I did!

Love,

Kurt xx

 

He pressed send before he could rethink his words, and almost immediately that sinking feeling of nervousness turned his stomach, as though he’d just made a terrible mistake. Clapping a hand to his mouth he spun around, racing into the pokey bathroom just off to the side of his room, before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. Full all of a sudden with listless, hopeless depression, he leaned back against the wall where he promptly fell asleep. He didn’t even hear the ping of his laptop, indicating he’d received a new message.