The time I've spent on this is ridiculous... It was ready months ago, but I wasn't happy with it. I tweaked it a bit and this is it.

Ps. I finally watched the episode again. Kurt and Blaine are very sweet and everything. Pity (not) a couple of romantic scenes don't change my mind about the whole relationship. Blaine's got to go.

Tell me if you aren't sick of it, I may write one or two more chapters!

Kurt had crossed the parking lot and was already in his car when the adrenaline high subsided. He was shaking and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks, but no bodily discomfort could distract him from the fact that it was months since he'd last felt so free.

He was elated like few things could make him – evidently quitting a toxic relationship was one of them, who could have known?

But, as it's wont to be, after the high comes the low, and Kurt trembled with his forehead pressed against the steering wheel, for the guilt was staggering. He took deep breaths and tensed and relaxed his fingers around the wheel.

He had just mustered up enough mental energy to maybe return home, when the passenger's door was thrown open and slammed closed faster than he could blink. Kurt glared his best glare before even registering that the person sitting in his car, next to him, with no right to be there, was Puck. Kurt straightened himself, feeling self-conscious under Puck's conceited grin. He low-key snapped, and growled a "What?" in the other boy's direction.

In response, Puck laughed, going as far as to slap his thigh, and it took him an inordinate amount of time to collect himself enough to speak.

"Oh, man! That was so badass! You see midget's face? Damn good that was! Didn't hurt having yo' sweet cheeks on Puckzilla either." The boy even wiggled his eyebrows and Kurt couldn't help himself. He giggled. Then threw his head back to release a maybe, kinda hysterical laugh that helped settle his nerves much more effectively than just breathing did.

"You think?" And, apparently, that was all it took for Kurt to revert to his diva-self. He didn't wait a second longer to reach for the mirror, then proceeded to groom himself back into calmness. Puck kept looking at him with the same smug look,

"I know it, princess. Who's the baddest of the school, eh?" He bumped his elbow to the more put-together boy's, that looked at him down-right cattily.

"Don't push me." Puck scoffed.

"Not what you were saying ten minutes ago."

"That was then, wasn't it?" He turned up his nose. "Why are you in my car, anyway?"

"Just wanted to congratulate you in losing the ball and half-chain. Santana too, you don't know how smug she was. Probably wanted to stop you too, but Brittany was happy." He shrugged.

Kurt hoped he wasn't as pink as he felt. He didn't know what was worse, blushing because Santana wanted to... congratulate him, or because when Britt was happy, Santana got very happy.

He composed himself and sighed, he looked around the parking lot and, not finding Puck's truck, resigned himself to humoring the other boy. He just turned the key into the ignition and sped it out of there when he thought he saw the Glee kids guffawing out of school.

Puck relaxed back in the car seat and flexed his muscles in a way he knew was particularly... distracting. The tease.

They didn't talk on the way to Puck's house, but it wasn't the strained silence Kurt had tried to maintain the first time he saw the other boy home. Kurt spent his time lost in his own mind, and it was a bit of a shock to his system when he realized they had arrived. Puck didn't take notice, he threw the door open in his usual way and crooned,

"If you need a rebound that can handle a wolf..." he trailed off with a quirk of his eyebrow and a bark of a laugh when Kurt sputtered. Then he slammed the door, again.

Kurt didn't even yell after him, just shook his head and pulled out of the little driveway. That was about the time the respite from his thoughts he enjoyed in Puck's company made way to another flood of worrying. But it wasn't until he was parking in front of his house that he realized he would have to talk to his dad.

Kurt spent the remaining of his afternoon not thinking about the approaching conversation.

Instead, he systematically went through his phone to remove any and all traces of Blaine, photos first; for while he thought exes could remain friends, he and Blaine were not at that point. He then updated his Facebook status to single and went on to relocate all the clothes that reminded him of Blaine – because he wore them on date-nights, or he bought thinking about him, or wore during important milestones of their relationship. The whole lot of them ended up in one of the many boxes littering around his room. Maybe he could take all the packing as an opportunity to sell some of the things he would not be wearing anymore. No reason to let them go to waste with so many people in this country sadly uneducated about style and fashion.

For the moment, he closed the box, looked around himself and could only be glad that there weren't more reminders of Blaine cluttering his living space – like gifts or necessities left around to retrieve at a later date. He supposed they weren't that kind of couple. But, he thought again, he wouldn't really mind being part of one such couple. Certain things had just not felt natural with Blaine.

Whatever. He wanted a clean cut, there would be time to overanalyze and nitpick every aspect of their relationship at a later date. With that thought he abandoned himself on his bed with a soft huff, forcing himself to not take out his sticky-notes booklet to start sorting all his things. He just wasn't in the mood – even if his fingers itched for it.

So that was how Burt found him later on: lounging on the bed and with no intention of moving.

But, of course, his father only needed a few seconds to assess the situation. The man got into his bedroom and closed the door behind himself.

"Hey kiddo, what's up?" Kurt heaved himself up to a sitting position, looked his father square in the eyes and hoped to Versace to look self-assured.

"Blaine and I are over. He's no longer welcome in this house." After a few seconds of stillness, Burt released a breath he seemed to have held in since his only boy first told him he would be dating, 'and that's final'. He hoped not to look too relieved as he sat himself on the bed next to his son.

"Ok. Wanna talk about it or something?" Kurt shrugged delicately, but his dad elected to soldier on at the lack of answer. "Could this be nerves? For NYADA, the... imminent separation?"

Kurt smiled a little. He wasn't exactly in a sharing mood, still too full of conflicted emotions, but he was honestly touched at seeing his dad trying so hard to understand him, and felt it was only right to offer something.

He angled himself to better face his dad and took a deep breath to steady himself.

"Ok. I can't say for sure that the stress didn't have a part in this, but the truth is that there have been troubles for... Prada, I can't think of a time during which there wasn't some kind of problem, but until now I could look past them, or outright ignore them, because I loved him and I thought he loved me as well. Now that's not enough. I don't like how he is behaving, thinking about it I don't like a lot of things that he's done. And I'm leaving for New York in a couple of months time. I'm sorry that it's come to this, but I feel like it's just not worth it... Can you trust me to do what's best for me?" He let on more than he thought he would. Maybe too much. But when he looked at his father again, the man was smiling, if only a little.

"Kurt, of course, you've always known... And Blaine isn't that great, you know? You can do much better."

Kurt choked a laugh and threw his arms around his father's neck. He relished in the warm feelings he had missed more than he thought he had; his dad had been way too busy in Washington, but they still had a little time before he left for college and they would make the best of it. For now, he could only thank New York's heavens for having such a perfect father... most of the time.

That night, right after dinner, Kurt allowed himself a while before his facial routine just to stand in front of his closet and plan the perfect break-up outfit. What he had planned at the start of the week wouldn't do, it had been rendered obsolete by the latest news, and nothing said 'devastated' more than not caring about clothes the day after the breakup. What he wore had to exude certainness, convey his absolute resolution and show the world he had made his choice and was sticking to it; even if he still had feelings for Blaine, he wasn't going to change his mind. He didn't want to say what happened had been a long time coming because it wasn't, but they started badly, and it subtly, slowly, got worse until only a very drastic change of ways could have salvaged their relationship, but nothing of the like seemed to be coming and Kurt really thought they could only get worse – taking into account NYADA...

Kurt didn't want to damn his whole first relationship, but he couldn't think of a single thing that would have prevented everything from crashing and burning. At least he had New York: it would be a truly new page; he and Blaine wouldn't chain each other down, no passive-aggressive behavior, no jealousy and stress over phone calls and conflicting schedules... He felt so petty thinking this way about what he thought was love, but he consoled himself: if they were really meant to be, it surely would have been easier? No more to it now, he would just have to deal with the consequences of his actions, starting with his own, fabulous self.

Mercedes spent her afternoon in a mostly dazed state. She even ignored Shawn's calls and just took a long, hard look at what brought her to side against her white boy with someone she didn't even like at first. She didn't like what she came up with. The day after the whole mess, she shut Blaine off completely, and waited by the school entrance for Kurt. She wasn't expecting to be presented with such a sight... Kurt, sashaying into the school flanked by two-thirds of the power trio and shadowed by Finn and Puck in football's jerseys. It was a more intimidating sight than it had any right to be, even with Kurt in studded boots and leather jacket.

She decided to retreat quietly and try her luck when Kurt wasn't so clearly on the warpath.

Kurt ended up extremely satisfied with his clothing choices (no surprise there), and found himself unable to keep in a smirk as the student population parted before his entourage. He wiggled his fingers with Santana, pretty proud of the reactions he was getting... like Santana's "Boom, baby!" the moment she saw him hadn't been enough.

Today, he was free, and he owned the mass.