Skin On Skin

Chapter 19

Blaine sighed, closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the lift. The past six hours had been a blur. His song had been more than well received, not just from the immediate audience but also from the media and popular culture commentaries who had also managed to get their hands on it. It had only been played once, but it was already the talk of the town and the airwaves were now abuzz with the topic of Blaine Anderson's new sound.

They were describing it as fresh, mature, daring and sophisticated. Blaine Anderson had been bold, had shared his softer side, and people loved it. Sebastian had been wrong. Instead of shying away and turning their backs on Blaine, his fans had welcomed the new sound. Apparently men and women found Blaine's softer, romantic side just as compelling and sexy as his rocker side. It was only one song, but Blaine was hopeful. It was a positive start in a new direction.

His fingers drummed impatiently over the railing behind him as the lift continued to rise to his floor. There was only one problem. Since he had released himself from Santana's hug after walking off stage, he had been catapulted from one person to another. The VMAs had continued, finished, and throughout the after party – which he had desperately tried to get out of – people had been vying for Blaine's attention, trying to get their word in, to get an interview, to give him their congratulations, or to simply get his photo. And while he knew that that was to be expected, Blaine had not been able to escape, he had not been able to stop.

No, he lied.

There had been an instant where he had stopped. Where, across the busy venue when people had been filling the dance floor, Blaine had locked gazes with Hunter and Sebastian. He was sure that Hunter wanted to stride across the room and knock him flat, and that it was only Sebastian who was preventing him from doing so. Blaine wasn't worried if he did, he could easily take Hunter if he had to.

It was Sebastian who Blaine knew he had to be concerned about, and it was his snarling glare that had made Blaine come to a halt. It was a glare that was vying for revenge and retaliation. Sebastian's vengeance would not be like Hunter's; it would be cunning, calculating, and callous.

Sebastian was not a stupid man. He knew that Blaine's attitude had shifted, that he had been coerced by no one other than Kurt. He was also clever and smart enough to know that any unchecked, public anger would only fuel Blaine's success that evening and only put Sebastian into a negative light. Sebastian had to play it smart. If he played his cards right, he could come out as the good guy. He could tell people that he had told Blaine to wait for the perfect time to declare his love for this mystery man, that he had been aware and eager for Blaine to reveal his other side. He had just wanted Blaine to do it while the whole nation was watching so they could fall in love with Blaine all over again and be swooned by his romanticism. Yes, Sebastian would take a step back, smile, shake hands and pretend that he had known all along, but later Blaine and he were going to talk.

Blaine had knocked back his drink, his knuckles turning white and his grip tightening on his glass. It had taken every last bit of strength that he had had in his body to stop himself from racing across the dance floor and confronting Sebastian. He had still not said one word to the man since he had discovered what he had done regarding Kurt.

"Not here, Blaine," Santana had whispered in his ear, just in case he needed to be reminded, and for a moment, he did need to be. "Not here." He knew that Santana was right, but his skin had still crawled as he watched Sebastian laugh and chat with the other partygoers. Blaine had pushed his anger back down, swallowing the large lump of it that had formed in the back of his throat and had focused his attentions on what was more important. Kurt, he had to make himself available just in case Kurt wanted to show.

Blaine glanced at his phone as the lift doors opened. The only problem was Blaine still didn't know what Kurt thought of it. Blaine had tried to stay optimistic but it was hard. Two hours ago he had finally received a text from Rachel and all it had said was, 'Give him time, Blaine. Give him time.' Blaine didn't know what to make of her words. It gave no indication of whether it was good or bad news. He had left the after party three hours earlier and he had tried to wait patiently in the hotel's bar, his body poised in the direction of the hotel's entrance waiting, waiting, waiting... but it was to no avail: Kurt had never showed.