Three days had passed since Kurt's encounter with Sebastian, and despite all the strength he put into not thinking about it, it was all he could do.

Sebastian Smythe. The stuck up across-the-street neighbor from his childhood. The one that insisted on mocking Kurt's every move and stealing all his favorite toys. The one whose mom was friends with Kurt's mom, Anne, and forced the boys to spend too much time together.

Sebastian Smythe, Kurt recalled, the boy Kurt hated but seemed liked at the same time.

Eight-year-old Kurt was just as confusing as eighteen-year-old Kurt, that was obvious at this point in the boy's head. Always unstable, always caught between emotions and always, always, over-thinking. Just like now, in the middle of Glee Club that afternoon – stuck in the depths of his mind, trying to sort things out down in his heart.

He wanted to talk to Sebastian, no matter how much a jerk he proved to be. Kurt felt like he needed to see him, he needed answers, or to just make it clear for himself that it hadn't been a dream.

Ten years for crying out loud. A lot happens in ten years, and no matter how pathetic it may sound, Sebastian was whom Kurt spent the most time with during his childhood, and he could certainly remember moments when the two were actually pretty nice to each other.

"Kurt," Santana poked the boy on his leg from where she was sitting in the front row of chairs below him.

"Wha – what?" Kurt blinked, setting his thoughts lost in a haze.

"Want to be in mine and Brittany's group?"

Kurt looked at Mr. Shue, trying to understand what S. was talking about. Apparently the assignment this week was to preform a ballad in trio.

"Yeah," he smiled at the girl. "That would be great."

The girl smiled back and then turned to face Mr. Shue, leaving Kurt to roam through his thoughts again.

This time, he was caught up in another point of view, one where he felt stupid for wanting to see Sebastian. Yes, ten years is a long time and all that really meant was that they lost every connection they might have had when kids. It didn't matter anymore, none of the past, none of the little moments where they genuinely seemed to be friends. They weren't now – they knew nothing of each other and Sebastian didn't seem to care enough to do anything about it, so Kurt wouldn't either.

That second Kurt felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. When he looked at the screen he saw the words 1 Message From Dad pop up.

You won't believe who came to my shop!

Kurt smiled at his dad's clear excitement, even though he didn't know exactly what had happened. It must've been big, since Burt never dares text Kurt while he's in class.

I'm in Glee Club, Dad. I'll go over there after school if you want.

Kurt sent the text and was surprised to receive an answer only one minute later.

No need, they just left.

Kurt frowned.

Who was it then?

Julie and Dan Smythe!

Kurt's eyes widened –– Sebastian's parents.

Oh. That's weird, but nice, I guess. We'll talk later.

Kurt shut his phone away in his pocket and stared straight ahead, trying to pay attention to whatever it was Mr. Shue was going on about. He failed, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Smythe had gone to see his dad. It was thoughtful of them, Kurt realized –– after all, they had been friends, but either way, Kurt couldn't fight off the bad feeling aching at the pit of his stomach. He had concluded less then three minutes ago he didn't want to see Sebastian, and now, it seemed almost inevitable.

Santana met up with the boy at the parking lot after Glee and invited him to go to her house the next day to rehearse a song for the assignment. He nodded and tried to look excited, but let the mask fall as soon as he sat on the driver's seat of his car.

He felt his phone buzzing again.

I'm guessing you aren't in glee anymore, so let me ramble!

Kurt sighed.

Dad, we can talk later. I'm going home right now, and I refuse to text while driving.

OK. Taught you well.

The boy rolled his eyes and threw his phone on the passenger seat, then started the car and turned on the radio, hoping the music would tune out his thoughts. He was right –– they were enough to get him distracted, singing along to the lyrics he already knew and humming along to the ones he was listening for the first time, trying to guess what word the singer would say next and what could have inspired the band to write the song.

Once he was home, Burt was sitting lazily on the couch in the living room, watching a reprise of a football game.

"Hey kiddo!" he turned around and smiled at his son as soon as he heard the door closing.

"Hi dad," Kurt managed to smile genuinely when he saw how happy his dad was. Apparently, the return of the Smythes was a good thing for him. It crossed Kurt's mind that of course it was. Burt didn't have many real friends. He talked a lot to the guys that worked for him at his shop and went out every once in a while with Carole and her married friends, but there wasn't anyone particularly special. It made perfect sense for Burt to be happy –– Kurt suddenly remembered all the nights Dan and his dad stayed up talking about who knows what while Sebastian and Kurt watched movies on the couch. He remembered all the dinners they attended at one another's houses and the times they'd play family football, Smythe against Hummel, but with Sebastian's older sister Elizabeth as a referee so it would be a fair match.

On the other hand, Kurt thought, this was worrying. Dan and Julie would bring back a lot of stuff about his mom. Not like Burt forgot, but it could maybe make him sad now while walking down memory lane with the Smythes.

Kurt left his bag at the side of the couch and joined his dad with a concerned smile. "So, it's safe to ramble all you want now."

Burt let out a laugh, but then went a bit serious. "Well, Julie's mom is sick; I think it's cancer. That's why they came back from Paris. Julie doesn't have siblings and she didn't want to leave her mom like this with only a nurse in the house. They took her in and are taking care of her."

"Oh," Kurt frowned, "it's a shame she's sick… But it's nice that they left Paris to look after her."

"Yeah, I thought it was quite amazing. Paris isn't around the corner, you know buddy. And it ain't cheep either, but looks like Dan hit the jackpot there in Paris; said things are doing really good for them financially. They even put their kid in that private school Dalton. You remember him, right? Sebastian?"

Kurt swallowed hard. "Uh, yeah… We never really got along though."

"Are you kidding? You two were best friends! Of course, you were both stubborn little kids, always fighting about toys, but it was actually really cute. You two always ended up having a blast with each other."

Oh.

At the same time that something felt warmer inside of Kurt, a big ball of confusion turned up and rolled over it. Sebastian and him were friends. Both stubborn, obnoxious, probably too full of pride even as kids too ever really admit how found they were of each other, but all in all, friends.

Kurt considered telling his dad about their encounter at the Lima Bean, but decided it was better not to. It'd only get Burt worked up, and Kurt would probably never manage to explain exactly what happened that day.

Instead, he told his dad he'd take a shower and get some homework started. That done, after a few hours of messing through TV channels and checking social networks, he had dinner and fell into bed, stopping himself from losing sleep wondering what would happen whenever he sees Sebastian again, and simply letting go into how tired he felt.

Kurt dreamt of family football in a green field surrounded by flowers.

The next day was a big blur to Kurt. Not only had every class been uninteresting, but Blaine had shot Kurt a few glances every now and then, with a little smile on his face that made it seem like nothing had happened between the two –– like they were friends.

That, of course, made Kurt angry. He managed not to march up to the boy and yell at him for everything he had done, but when Blaine stood up and said something in Mr. Shue's ear during Glee club, the whole room went silent and Kurt was sure his heart thumping was audible.

"Kids," Mr. Shue started, "Blaine wants to know if he could sing a song for us, not as part of the assignment."

Everyone cheered and Mr. Shue smiled.

Kurt felt his face go red and his heart beat faster in a way that was almost painful.

"This song is called So, by Ed Sheeran," was all Blaine said before the band started up the song.

"'Filled up with doubt, I have to move home'," Blaine sung. Kurt was surprised he wasn't crying yet –– he knew the song; knew the lyrics, knew exactly what was coming.

"'But I want to stay with you, for all of the summer',"

Clearly only for the summer, Kurt thought.

He must have zoned out for the next verses of the song because next thing he knew he was standing up in his spot and Blaine was wide eyed, but still singing:

"I am a liar, as you might know. I need you now, I need your touch, and your lips…"

"I think that's enough," Kurt said monotonously, and then stomped out of the room, immediately feeling tears rising and blurring his vision.

He threw himself down onto the sidewalk when reaching the empty parking lot, dipping his head between his knees and simply letting go.

It was too much. That song crossed a limit, because Blaine couldn't possibly think he would make things okay by singing. He couldn't… he won't. Nothing will make this okay. That's what happens when you cheat; when you say you love someone and then go off with someone else. When you kiss and touch and simply be with someone that isn't the person you've called yours so many times before. All that while Kurt blindly trusted Blaine with his entire fucking world.

Kurt was angry. He wanted to scream, to hit something, break something, anything. And that's what he was feeling when Blaine showed up around.

Bad timing.

"Who do you think you are, Blaine?" he shouted when the boy was close enough. "How can you possibly have the nerve to sing that to me, in front of everyone? The whole fucking week passed and you didn't say a word to me, and now you show up singing and smiling like it's just that simple? You CHEATED on me. You CHEATED, and you BROKE MY FUCKING HEART."

Blaine looked paralyzed. Kurt could see tears forming in front of the boy's eyes, and that only made him angrier.

"You have no right to be upset," Kurt said, trying to keep from shouting, teeth clenched and hands held straight by his sides forming fists. "No right at all."

"I…" Blaine started.

"You what? You're sorry? Well I don't care anymore. I don't want your sorry. You can shove all your damn apologies up your ass, the same place you let that stranger in."

And with that, Kurt walked passed Blaine, making sure not to let an inch of their skin touch. That was it for Kurt. That was more than enough to handle.

He waited in a bathroom stall for the bell to ring. He didn't cry, he didn't want to. The pain in his chest was sharp, but he didn't want to let Blaine do that to him, not anymore. Every night was spent trying to push away the image of Blaine with another guy. Every thought in between distractions going over how he could feel the pieces of his heart falling to the ground with every step he took.

He had enough.

So when the bell rung, Kurt's face was steady, controlled. He'd go to Santana's house like promised and he'd be okay. He couldn't be sad forever.

Kurt and Brittany spent what seemed like hours thrown on Santana's bedroom floor listening to the girl sing, feeling way too lazy to do the same.

"You know, I called you two here to rehearse, not watch me do it." S. snapped after a long time of letting the two do nothing.

"But you're so amazing when you sing," Brittany said, and Santana tried not to let it get to her.

"Thank you, Brit, but we have to practice. Or at least do something worth while."

"Well, Kurt's going to have to leave if we do what I have in mind," Brit smiled and Kurt rolled his eyes, making the two girls laugh.

"She's joking," S. made clear, and then sat down next to Kurt, watching him with close eyes as if examining the boy. "I know you aren't okay," she said after a bit.

"I am," he answered, trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Seriously, Hummel, I'm no idiot. That thing with Blaine at Glee today sucked you back in that black whole of yours. What even happened?"

Kurt sat up, breathing deeply. "What happened was that Blaine was being Blaine, clueless and impulsive, doing the worst job at fixing the mess he made."

Brittney reached out for Kurt's hand and squeezed it. "You deserve more than that, Prince Kurt."

Kurt managed a giggle, "thanks, Brit. But I'm just really tired. He spent the whole week avoiding me and now sung an effing song, as if it would make things okay! It's ridiculous."

"We know it is," S. said, "Now we just need to do something to help you move on."

Kurt sighed, "It's not as simple as that. These things take time."

"Yeah, but it takes longer when you keep mourning."

"I'm not mourning!" Kurt huffed. He was doing everything but mourn. How could she even say that?

"Then you need to do a better job," she then looked at Brit and smiled. "We're going to help you."

Kurt's stomach turned –– he didn't like this. Not that he didn't trust Santana, after all, through summer they had really hit it off, but it was the way the girl was looking at him that made him dread what could be coming.

"We're going out," she suddenly said.

"To where?"

And to add to Kurt's worries, the girl answered exactly what he was hoping she wouldn't:

"It's a surprise!"

Kurt spent half an hour in the back seat of Santana's car wondering where in the world she was taking him. There hadn't been any clue whatsoever –– all S. said was that he'd have fun.

When Santana made a curve into some dark place with a filthy parking lot, Kurt's heart dropped and he knew that fun was the last thing he was going to have here.

"I can't believe this."

Brittany turned her head to look at Kurt while Santana kept driving to find a place to park, "What's wrong?"

"Turn the car around, Santana."

"What? No! We just got here. This is for you Kurt, don't be a buzz kill."

"If this is for me, then turn the damn car around!"

Santana stopped the car to look back at Kurt, realizing he was angry. "What the hell, Kurt?"

"Out of all the clubs you could've taken us, you decide on Scandals. How fucking nice of you!" Kurt shouted, and Santana started to get frustrated too.

"Could you stop being a bitch for a second to explain to me why we can't be here?"

"This is where Blaine was going, Santana. This is where he probably met the whore he cheated on me with!"

The car went silent.

Santana looked at Brittany, who shrugged, and then decided to continue moving the car until it was parked.

"Get out of the car," she said when realizing Kurt wasn't taking his seat belt off.

"Do you still honestly expect me to go in there?"

"Don't be such a girl, Hummel. This is just a random place where people go to drink and have fun. The point of this is to forget Blaine, and here is actually a perfect place to start. He fucked someone when he was here? Then fuck someone too. Payback, Kurt Hummel, I'm sure you know what that is."

Kurt's mind immediately ran back to the day at the Lima Bean where Santana had said words similar to those, and made Kurt go talk to Sebastian. He knew this wasn't a good idea –– so why was he getting out of the car?

"We won't get it. We're under 21."

Brittany giggled, "Oh please, Prince Kurt. Santana and I are always prepared," and with that she took a fake identity with Kurt's picture on it from out of her pocket.

"I won't even ask where you got this picture of me," Kurt said, frowning at the hideous card.

"Good," Santana replied, seeming very pleased with herself, "let's go then."

It was easy to get in the little club –– the guard at the door seemed far too drunk to care if our identities were fake or not, and just let us in with a wink.

Inside, Kurt noticed there were only men. Dancing, talking, drinking, making out… But still, absolutely no women around. He turned to Santana with a curious expression.

"There are only men in here," he stated, and S. looked at him as if he had just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"What did you expect? It's a gay bar, not lesbian."

"Oh."

"Brit and I have each other. Tonight is all for you."

Kurt felt something go cold in his chest. He didn't want this. He didn't want to meet a random stranger just to forget about his problems with Blaine. Honestly, he just didn't want to sink as low as Blaine did.

"Listen Santana, I appreciate your intention but–,"

"Don't start with me, Hummel. We're here and you're going to have fun," she grabbed his arm and led him towards a table near the wall.

A man dressed in all black showed up a bit after they sat down and asked what they wanted to drink. Santana ordered beers for them all.

"I don't like beer," Kurt said when the waiter left.

"Kurt," Brit started, "just shut up and enjoy this."

And he tried. Drink after drink and song after song, Kurt would loosen up more. At one point, everything had gotten too blurry and too loud for the boy to understand exactly what was going on. He was positive he was sitting alone at the table –– S. and Brit must have gotten up to hide in a corner and make out –– when a fit blonde guy winked at Kurt and started coming closer. Kurt smiled, finding this all too amusing, and decided he'd let it happen. After all, he had nothing to lose and chances were he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning –– so who cares?

He stood up the second before the boy had the chance to lean over Kurt's table to talk to him. Their faces were apart by only a few inches, and Kurt couldn't even manage to feel nervous, only more excited.

"Hey, beautiful," the guy said with a ridiculously charming crooked smile.

Kurt felt his cheeks go hot before arching an eyebrow and answering, "Why hello there. How may I help you?" Kurt's tone rang of second intentions.

"How about you let me dance with you?"

"Tell me your name first," he said, still extremely flirty.

"Jonah," the guy said while handing his hand out for Kurt to shake.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Kurt." He grabbed Jonah's hand and squeezed it, noticing the strong fingers caress the top of his hand.

"Well, Kurt, is it okay to dance with you now?"

Instead of answering, Kurt didn't let go of Jonah's hand and was then led to the middle of the dance floor. If he hadn't been so drunk, he would've cared to be a bit more charming, but he was so thinking was out of question. Jonah, though, seemed to be enjoying whatever dance moves it was Kurt was trying to pull off, and that was enough to keep Kurt happy.

Two or three long songs seemed to have passed by before Kurt realized how close he and the guy were. Kurt had his hands around Jonah's neck while he had his hands tight on Kurt's waist. For a second, Kurt could've sworn they were about to kiss, but if they were, he'd never know, because at that exact moment, tall and slim Sebastian Smythe walked through the door. Kurt barely caught his breath at the sight of the boy –– skinny jeans marking the exact right spots of his long legs, white V-neck shirt fitting perfectly and hair designed shooting up and to the sides messily, as if he had just gotten out of bed and decided he looked fine the way it was.

He was right.

Kurt took a step back from Jonah to get a better look at Sebastian while he moved from the entrance to the bar. He was alone, probably bored and hunting. Jonah put a hand slightly above Kurt's cheek to make the boy look his way.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, I just saw a friend come in. I'm sorry, I have to go."

And like that, let the blonde hottie disappointed and confused on the dance floor. Kurt laughed at himself a bit, wondering why in the world was he crazy enough to let a boy like Jonah go. That question was too complicated for his drunken brain to answer, so he just followed his feet wherever they wanted to go.

"Kurt?" Sebastian asked when Kurt had practically bumped into his back at the counter of the bar. He looked more confused than angry, so that was a good start, Kurt thought.

"Hey Seb!" Kurt laughed, grabbing the boy's shoulders for support. They were suddenly very close to each other.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know! My friends left me to go make out," Kurt pouted, and Sebastian smirked. "Oh my God, seriously Sebastian, what type of person has the same signature smile since they're eight years old?"

"Signature smile?" Sebastian seemed more than amused, eyes twinkling with the lights of the dance floor.

"As in you always have that on your face. Nothing good about it though," Kurt teased, not putting much effort into sounding convincing. That smirk managed to be frustrating and sexy all the same time.

"I think you're drunk," Sebastian said, sitting Kurt down on one of the stools.

"Darn, how'd you know?" Kurt faked disappointment and slumped his shoulders.

"The fact that you're not angry at me."

"Oh yeah! You were a real jerk that day, and it was out of nothing!" Kurt shouted, looking genuinely confused as he remembered their encounter at the Lima Bean. "We haven't seen each other in ten years, and you managed to make me angry the first three minutes we reunited. You deserve applause!"

Sebastian laughed, "I have experience."

Kurt tilted his head slightly to the side, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I still know how to irritate you, even after so long."

"Thought about me a lot back in Paris, huh?" Kurt mocked, punching the side of Sebastian's arm playfully with his elbow.

Sebastian shook his head, "Sorry, Kurtsy, but I had too many other boys on my mind to remember you."

That was when Kurt realized something.

"Sebastian!" he shouted, covering his mouth with both hands quickly afterwards, laughing at himself for only noticing now.

"What?" the boy shouted back, imitating Kurt's tone.

"You're gay!"

Sebastian's eyes widened a bit at the obvious remark before cracking up. "What gave me away?" He said while laughing. "Was it how we're both in a gay bar?"

"I don't know, but you're gay! That's so weird. I expected you to grow up to be one of those asshole lady's men."

If Sebastian didn't look entertained before, he certainly did now. "I am one of those guys, actually, except with other guys."

Kurt pretended to analyze that sentence thoroughly, "Yeah, I guess that makes a lot of sense."

Sebastian stared at Kurt for a minute when he didn't say anything else. It was weird for him to be in the presence of his childhood enemy –– or was Kurt a friend? Sebastian didn't know, and right then, he didn't care. He was having too much fun. Kurt was drunk and Sebastian was bored. The night couldn't be any more perfect.

"Want to dance?" he asked.

"Actually, I just left the dance floor," Kurt said, but then made a smug face, "and I'm not feeling too hot."

Sebastian couldn't miss this entry to flirt with Kurt, and so said, "I can assure you you're hot."

Kurt blushed but didn't let the comment get to him.

"That was smooth, but I mean I feel a bit sick."

A growl of his stomach made him noticed exactly how sick he was a –– he wasn't used to so much drinking; this was bound to happen at some point.

"Ooh, that's not good. How many drinks have you had?" Sebastian asked, fighting the urge to make fun of the smaller boy.

Kurt tried really hard to remember, but everything was slowly becoming a blur. He could feel his stomach start flipping and grumble, and knew he had to get out of there or else he'd probably ruin Sebastian's night and outfit.

"Ugh, 'Bastian, get out of the way," Kurt fumbled out of his seat to find the bathroom, but felt a warm hand grab his arm.

"Need help?"

"I think I know how to vomit, thanks," Kurt slipped out of Sebastian's grip and scurried towards the nearest stall.

After what felt like half an hour, most of what he drunk that night seemed to be going down the toilet drain. He washed his mouth and splattered some of the cold water on his face before going back outside to face the noise. He could feel a headache creeping up on him, and all he wanted was to find Santana and Brittany and leave the place.

Instead, he found Sebastian waiting for him at the door of the bathroom with a cup of water in hand.

"Here," he said gently while giving Kurt the water.

Kurt felt too dizzy to say anything in response, and simply gulped the water down, appreciating how the cold felt down his sore throat.

"I need to get out of here before I faint or something," he said, holding on to his head with one hand and reaching for support on Sebastian's arm with the other.

"I take it you don't do things like this often," the boy said, and Kurt managed a dry little laugh. "Who'd you come with?"

Kurt took a few looks around the place before realizing Santana was nowhere to be found.

"Someone who will be dead tomorrow."

Sebastian smiled, still having fun with the situation. "Does that mean you need a ride?"

Kurt looked up at the boy and felt guilty. He had gotten here no less than forty minutes ago –– Kurt wouldn't allow Sebastian to leave because of him.

"Don't worry about it. I'll get a taxi or something."

"I doubt you can even remember your address right now, Kurt."

Kurt hated to admit it, but Sebastian was right. He didn't even know where exactly he was, let alone how he'd get back.

"Give me your phone," Sebastian offered a hand, waiting. Without hesitation, Kurt took his mobile from out of his pocket and laid it on Sebastian's palm. He didn't know what the boy was doing, but felt too open his mouth and ask.

After a minute, Sebastian tucked the phone back in Kurt's front pocket. "C'mon, I'll take you home. I wouldn't have much fun here tonight anyways."

Kurt blinked, trying to understand the words.

"Who's home, exactly?"

The next morning, Kurt woke up with one of the worst migraines he'd ever experienced, face flat on the cold floor of a room he couldn't recognize. When he sat up, panic shot through him with a gasp.

Sebastian was fast asleep on what was probably his own bed, shirtless and snoring.