Author's Note: I apologize again for the long delay. I have time to write now because I'm in the middle of a hurricane! Yay! Well, not in the middle, but in it nonetheless. There's no flooding here. And we still have power and internet as of now, obviously. We'll see how long that will last; the wind is insane. We had no classes today & we have none tomorrow, hence having some time to actually write.

Disclaimer: I am disclaiming

Chapter Thirty-Two: Get This Party Started

"Blaine, for the hundredth time, I am fine. I have been fever-free for twenty-four hours and if I don't go back to school soon I'll never be able to catch up. And I am not repeating my junior year. Once is bad enough."

Blaine laughed. "Okay, okay, don't have a cow. I'm just saying that tomorrow is Thursday anyway, so why not just wait until Monday to come back?"

"Because," said Kurt, "and I never thought I'd say this, but because I miss school! Sitting at home is boring!"

"More boring than the hospital?" asked Blaine.

"At least for most of the time I was there I was too sick to be bored."

Blaine bounced up and down on his bed, swinging his dangling foot back and forth as he imagined his boyfriend's adorable face on the other end of the phone. "Well, since you are coming back tomorrow, what do you think about the Warblers singing your song?"

"My song?" said Kurt in confusion.

"You know," said Blaine, glad that Kurt couldn't see his blush. "The one I wrote for you."

In the few seconds' pause that followed, Blaine was struck with the sudden fear that Kurt had been so drugged up when he had come out of his coma that he didn't remember the song at all. But then the countertenor's voice came through the speaker pressed to Blaine's ear.

"Yeah…wow…have you played the song for them yet?"

Blaine shook his head, then realized that Kurt couldn't see him. "No. Not yet. I didn't think it was right to, without talking to you first."

"You really want to do the song?" asked Kurt. "Like, perform it?"

"Only if it's alright with you."

"Yeah, it's alright with me," said Kurt. "But I thought you didn't want to share any of your original music with other people, even though it's really good."

"I don't know about really good," said Blaine, "but for some reason I really want to share this one."

"Fine by me," said Kurt with a smile. "Do I get to sing it with you?"

"Of course," said Blaine, smiling.

"Then it's definitely fine by me."

*****AM*****

"KURT!"

"Ak—!" said Kurt, which was all he could get out before he was completely obscured from view by a dozen navy blue blazers.

"Let him breathe, let him breathe," laughed Blaine, Wes, and David as they pulled their fellow Warblers off of Kurt. "Come on guys, don't kill the guy less than a week after he got out of the hospital!"

When some semblance of order had been restored to the rehearsal hall, Wes banged his gavel for attention. "Warblers, Warblers! I know we are all ecstatic to have out countertenor back, but our choir will only reap the benefits of his return if we actually get around to singing something today. Now, as you know, we have the alumni mixer coming up. Unfortunately we had to prepare our set list without Kurt here. However, Blaine and Kurt have a very special song they would like to add to the evening. As it is rather unorthodox, we will have the rest of the group vote on whether or not to add the song."

Every single hand in the room shot up.

Thad raised his eyebrows. "Don't you want to hear the song first?"

*****AM*****

Kurt peeked out through the curtain at the crowd milling about in the Reception Hall.

"Who are all those people?" he whispered to David.

"The alumni," said David. "It is the alumni mixer."

"But they're so young! Aren't alumni supposed to be, well, old?"

David chuckled. "Not recent alumni."

"They come to these things?"

"At Dalton they do."

"Nice. Do you think there are any former Warblers out there?"

"Oh, loads," said David.

"Places!" called Wes. "Places everyone! Kurt, David, get away from that curtain, you know better."

The current Warblers took up their places on the stage. Thad signaled to the stagehand to raise the curtain as Wes blew a note on his pitch pipe.

Nick stepped to the right-hand front of the stage and struck a casual pose.

"I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."

Jeff mirrored him on the left.

"I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."

They both nodded their heads.

"I'm comin' up."

The rest of the Warblers poured onto the stage.

"Get this party started on a Saturday night

Everybody's waiting for me to arrive

Sending out the message to all of my friends

We'll be looking flashy in my Mercedez Benz."

"I've got lots of style, check my gold diamond rings

Sang one side of the stage, while the other boys catcalled then came back with,

"I can go for miles if you know what I mean!"

"I'm comin' up,"

Sang Jeff and Nick as the group took up a new formation on the stage.

"So you'd better get this party started."

"I'm comin' up I'm comin',"

Echoed the ensemble.

"I'm comin' up so you'd better get this party started."

Now the choir was in full voice and grooving to the basses' backbeat, the better dancers in the group taking turns at a couple seconds of soloing.

"Pumping up the volume, breaking down to the beat

Cruisin' through the west side, we'll be checking the scene

Boulevards freakin' as I'm coming up fast

I'll be burning rubber, you'll be kissing my ass

Pull up to the bumper, get out of the car

License plates a stunner number one super star."

Nick and Jeff took the solos once more on the chorus while the rest of the Warblers formed a semi-circle around them.

"I'm comin' up so you'd better get this party started."

"I'm comin' up, you'd better."

"I'm comin' up so you'd better get this party started."

"Get this party started."

As they broke in down again from their new formation they sang the next verse, doing a kind of physical back and forth between sides of the semi-circle even though all of the tenors were signing the melody.

"Makin' my connections as I enter the room

Everybody's chillin' as I set up the groove

Pumping up the volume with this brand new beat

Everybody's dancing and they're dancing for me

I'm your operator you can call any time

I'll be your connection to the party line!"

Now the dancers in the group took center stage with their break-dancing routine while Nick and Jeff and the rest of the ensemble kept the chorus going as a kind of call and response between the ensemble and the soloists.

"I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."

"Get this party started, ohhh."

"I'm comin' up, I'm comin' up."

"Get this party started right now"

"I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."

"Get this party started."

"I'm coming' up, I'm comin' up."

"Get this part started right now."

"I'm coming up so you'd better get this party started."

"Get this party started."

"I'm comin' up, I'm comin' up."

"Get this party started."

And pose.

*****AM*****

Ten minutes later they came to the end of their set and David stepped to the front of the stage.

"This song was written especially for our own Kurt Hummel by fellow Warbler Blaine Anderson." said David. "Welcome back, Kurt. And it's about damn time, Blaine!"

Blushing slightly and shooting a glare at his laughing friends, Blaine took center stage for the closing song of their set.

"You're a diamond that I'm afraid to touch

You're damn near flawless and I'm sure you'd cut

Oh my eyes, my hands, my head, my heart

You'd tear this canvass skin apart

Oh what a waste of human art that'd be…"

*****AM*****

"Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine turned, his arm still looped around Kurt's waist. "Uh, yes, that's me."

A young man of about twenty five with dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a light blue button-down shirt was looking at him appraisingly. "You wrote that song?"

Blaine nodded.

"You write any others?"

"Tons," chimed in Kurt.

"Not tons," said Blaine, elbowing his boyfriend. "But a few, yeah."

"They all as good as that one?"

Blaine colored slightly. "I…I really don't…"

"Definitely," said Kurt.

"I'd like to hear them," said the young man decisively.

"Why?" said Blaine, slightly taken aback.

The man put a hand in his jacket pocket and Blaine, out of habit, tensed, but the young man merely pulled out a business card, which he handed to Blaine.

"Jeremiah Bruce. Class of 2003. Independent music producer."

Blaine started uncomprehendingly at the card. "Um…thanks?"

"Blaine!" said Kurt exasperatedly. "He wants to produce your music! Sorry," he added to the alum. "He's a bit slow."

"You his boyfriend?" asked Jeremiah, who Kurt was coming to realize was a man of few words.

Kurt nodded. "Kurt Hummel."

"His muse."

Kurt smiled slightly. "You could say that."

Jeremiah turned his attention back to Blaine. "Interested?"

"Yeah," said Blaine breathlessly. "Yeah, of course!"

Jeremiah nodded. "I'll see you at my studio on Monday at four then. You can both come." And he strolled away.

Kurt and Blain looked at each other.

"Kurt…" said Blaine slowly. "Did I just get a record deal?"

"Oh my god, Blaine!" said Kurt. "You just got a record deal!"

"Shhhh!" said Blaine.

"Don't you want people to know?" demanded Kurt.

"Not until I know it's not gonna fall through," said Blaine. "Just…keep quiet about it until we know for sure, okay?"

"Alright, alright," said Kurt. "Spoilsport."

*****AM*****

Kurt was more excited than Blaine was on Monday; he found it absolutely impossible to sit still and pay attention in his classes.

"Kurt!" moaned Blaine. "If you get detention then you won't be able to come to Jeremiah's studio with me!"

"Sorry" said Kurt, and he tried his best to behave.

Finally four o'clock rolled around and the two teenagers knocked on the door of the unimposing looking concrete corner building.

Jeremiah himself, dressed almost the same as before, only this time with a green shirt, let them in.

"Sit down," he said, motioning to the forest green sofa across from his desk. "Let's hear something."

Awkwardly, Blaine sat and propped his guitar on his knee. Jeremiah looked at him expectantly. He positioned his fingers, cleared his throat, and did the first few bars of "Good Ol' Moon." Jeremiah nodded, keeping time with his foot.

"Something else," he interrupted about halfway through the song.

Blaine swallowed nervously and started in on "Jealousy."

This went on until Blaine had sung through every song in his repertoire.

"Well?" said Kurt finally, when the silence had dragged on to the point of being nearly unbearable.

Jeremiah nodded slowly. "Yes…yes… Come by tomorrow and I'll have the contract for you. We can start recording."

The two boys looked at each other. Was this really happening?

"You can go," said Jeremiah.

As soon as they were outside Kurt let out a whoop and high-fived Blaine. "You did it!"

"We still don't know if it's going to go anywhere," Blaine cautioned. "He's an independent producer living in Westerville Ohio."

"Still," said Kurt, "you have a contract!"

Blaine grinned at his boyfriend. "I know. And I already have the perfect title for the album."

"Oh?" said Kurt, linking arms with the shorter boy and leading him down the street toward his car."

"Yep," said Blaine contentedly. "I'm naming it after you."

"Kurt Hummel?" said Kurt, raising an eyebrow.

"No," said Blaine. "Adorable Mess."

"Why you little…"

AN: Yes, that is the END. I'm not quite sure where Blaine's record deal came from. It just kind of happened. But the poor boy deserved it. I hope you enjoyed the story and will leave one last review :)

-SQ