Warnings/Triggers: None specifically, some Emotional Abuse.

Chapter 3

Kurt did his best to stay away from Wesley during practice the next morning, but it seemed like every time he turned around the director was beside him, finding an excuse to touch him. At first Kurt tensed each time the heavy hand rested on his shoulder. He molded easily when Wesley guided him to a new spot. When it became clear there was no ulterior motive, Kurt stopped resisting.

He still felt sick to his stomach when the rehearsal ended and Wesley asked him to stay after for a few minutes. Kurt toyed with the idea of running out with the rest of the cast, but… He needed this. The reality of standing on the stage, singing and acting, was so much better than he could ever have imagined. Without it…He couldn't even imagine being without it.

"How are you, Kurt?" Wesley was propped up on the back of a chair, hands resting casually on his knees. The expression in his eyes was impossible to read as Kurt approached him slowly.

"I'm fine," Kurt said automatically. He couldn't bring himself to ask how Wesley was.

"I have to admit I'm surprised you aren't trying harder, after I stuck my neck out for you." The words were a physical blow. Kurt thought he'd been doing well. Everyone had congratulated him after the practice, surprised when he said he was still in high school, but genuine. Maybe they had been lying?

"I…I'm sorry. I thought…"

"Don't worry about it. I know you won't disappoint me. But…I definitely think you could use extra help sessions." His tone was so casual it almost lulled Kurt into a sense of security. "Let's add Monday to the schedule, okay? And we can see how it goes from there."

Kurt hesitated in answering and Wesley latched on to that. "Unless you think I should find someone else?"

"No! No. Uh…I have to rearrange some things, but I can be here. I won't disappoint you."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." Wesley hopped off the chair in one fluid motion, landing gracefully beside Kurt. He looked like a cat stalking a bird. Kurt couldn't get out of there fast enough.

xxx

He was nervous for Blaine to come over. It was a stupid fear. It was Blaine. Blaine! The boy he loved more than anything; the boy who loved him more than anything. The boy he was keeping a terrible secret from. And yet the idea of confessing was impossible. If he told Blaine, he knew Blaine would insist on telling someone else and then Kurt's dream would be gone.

"I can do this," He said to his reflection. "I'm Kurt Hummel, and I love Blaine Anderson. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, because I love him and this will all be in the past soon. We'll go to New York and become stars and be together forever."

He stood there, just looking at himself in the mirror. Despite his extensive skin cleansing ritual, he could see the beginning of bags under his eyes and frown lines from worry. He made a mental note to get a stronger moisturizer, since his current one obviously wasn't working. When there was a knock on the door, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Hey Blaine," Kurt said, opening the door and leaning forward for a kiss. It was quick, chaste, and Blaine slid in past Kurt when they broke apart.

"So, I brought the catalogues, and some Mountain Dew." Kurt smiled at his boyfriend's enthusiasm and followed him in through to the living room. He had set out a fruit tray and pita and hummus. While Blaine sat down and got out the magazines, Kurt grabbed a few Champaign glasses for the drinks and forced himself to put on a smile.

"How can you even think Burberry socks are a bad idea?" They'd been sitting there long enough for all the snacks to be gone. So far they'd picked out presents for most of their friends, but then Blaine had started teasing the socks Kurt was planning on getting, and he snapped. "This coming from the idiot who wears pants that don't cover his ankles and bowties. Seriously, Blaine?"

"Well it's not like your fashion choices are so stunning either." Blaine said. Kurt could tell he instantly regretted it, but he wasn't going to give his boyfriend a chance to apologize. He was already on his feet, storming to the door.

"I think you need to leave, Blaine." When it looked like Blaine was going to argue, Kurt pointed out the door, one hand on his hip for emphasis. "Now." Blaine walked past him, eyes questioning and apologizing at the same time. Kurt didn't say anything, trying to keep his expression hard when he was breaking to pieces inside.

Kurt watched the lights go down the driveway with growing horror. When the tail lights disappeared around the corner, he let himself fall apart, slumping against the wall and wrapping his arms around his body as tightly as possible. When soft sobs started to wrack his body, he bit his knuckles to stifle them. By the time anyone got home, he had pulled himself together and cleaned up the living room, leaving no trace Blaine had even been there.