It's Kurt's prom. They should be making out in The Navigator in between light-changes on the way to Kurt's house, but instead, the air is as thick as peanut butter with tension and humidity.

Initially during Dancing Queen, Kurt was smiling and laughing, trying to pretend like none of it had happened, but then Garnet Donavan, a Cheerio who'd helped him with the choreography for Le Jazz Hot, came up to him and hugged him. "Normally, I don't care about the prom queen crap, but San and Quinn were both being kind of ridiculous, and I voted for Lauren, because I really didn't want either of those bitches to win…but I'm really sorry you did. I felt SO BAD for you, but you just got up there and owned it and…" she hugs him.

"Thanks," Kurt says awkwardly.

"Hey," she says, giving Blaine the once-over. " At least you got a hot date, right? That's more than I can say."

"You really rock that crown, Kurt," Becky says seconds after Garnet leaves. "You must be really proud everyone voted for you."

"Proud doesn't even describe it, Becky," Kurt says through his teeth.

Blaine knows the façade is close to cracking, that his boyfriend is teetering on the edge of losing it, and he can't really do a damn thing about it.

"Baby-love," Mercedes said as soon as Dancing Queen was over. "Kate Middleton's got nothing on you. You are so brave and so amazing and I just…" she sniffled and hugged him. "You're one of my heroes, you know that?"

"So are you Baby-girl," he says. "Look at you! Dancing with Sam Freaking Evans."

"We didn't really go together…"

'Hey, it's not who you come to prom with," Artie says. "It's who you leave with. Kurt..." he says. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Kurt nodded. "I think I really just want to put this whole thing behind me."

"Hey, Kurt," Puck says. "I'm going on the down-low on Monday to find out who stuffed the ballots. Then I'll shove the ballots up their asses."

"That's…really not necessary, Puck," Kurt says with a role of his eyes. "I think I just want to go home."

"Probably not a bad idea," Blaine says. "I told your dad I'd have you home by midnight. We should probably head out."

"Call me later?" Mercedes asks.

Kurt nods and Blaine offers his hand. "Let's make like a tree," Blaine whispers in Kurt's ear. Blaine really hopes that now that they're out of that horrible gym, it'll be better, that Kurt will be Kurt again and they can just get back to the way things should be on Kurt's prom night.

But it isn't.

"Thank GOD that's over," Kurt breathes. Blaine wraps his arm around Kurt, but Kurt extracts himself from Blaine's grasp.

"I really REALLY just…want to forget that ever happened."

"At least we didn't get beaten to a bloody pulp," Blaine says with an awkward laugh. "I'll call that a win." Kurt flashes him a dirty look and pulls out of the parking lot.

Blaine can cut the tension in the car on the ride to Kurt's with a butter-knife.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" Blaine asks tentatively.

Kurt shrugs. "Whatever you want," he says noncommittally, barely even acknowledging Blaine's presence, but rolls his eyes as soon as the opening strains of Survivor comes over the speakers.

"It's like they KNOW me!" Blaine crows. He rolls down the window and cranks up the volume, and starts to sing along, dancing in his seat.

"I'm a survivor,

I'm not gonna give up,

I'm not gon' stop,

I'm gonna work harder,

I'm a survivor,"

"Come on, Kurt! I need some back-up vocals here!"

"I'm gonna make it,

I will survive,

Keep on survivin,

I'm a survivor,

I'm not gonna give up,

I'm not gon' stop,

I'm gonna work harder,

I'm a survivor,

I'm gonna make it,

I will survive,

Keep on survivin'."

"God, Blaine!" Kurt snaps, shutting the volume off with a click. "You do realize you're not a proud black woman, right?"

"Oh, that's nice, especially coming from the guy belting out Whitney Houston on the way to the gym. In a kilt."

"You leave Whitney Houston out of this!" Kurt says in that high register of his that Blaine is finding really annoying right now. "I thought you liked the kilt!"

"You know what?" Blaine snaps. "I was being nice."

"That's the problem with you, Blaine. You're always just being…nice and polite. When I get home tonight, Carole will say you're such a NICE boy, so POLITE, and how much she likes you because it's EASY to like someone who is polite and nice like you are. Nice and polite boys like you would NEVER ever get voted prom queen BY THE WHOLE SCHOOL. But you know what I think of NICE, POLITE boys?"

"I don't know," Blaine says icily. He knows it's misplaced anger. He knows Kurt's not really mad at him, exactly, and he'll probably call and apologize tomorrow, but right now, he's not thinking that far ahead. "But I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"That they've got a BIG FAT STICK shoved so far up their asses there's not enough room up there for anything else!"

Blaine wants to say the perfect thing. He wants to tell Kurt he knows what this is really about, that he's not really mad at him, but at the moment, he just scowls and stares out the window as Kurt pulls up to the house.

"So…" Blaine finally says, because Kurt has this infuriating way of not letting him be perfect.

"So." Kurt responds, nodding towards the porch. The lights had just come on. "My dad's waiting."

"Kurt…I…" Blaine begins, but Kurt holds a hand up in protest.

"Just forget it. I'll call you tomorrow," he says, and lets out a defeated sigh, and gets out of the car and waves.

Blaine waves back, but he feels silly for doing it as soon as he does, because Kurt's back is turned and he doesn't see the gesture. He knows Kurt will be fine. He knows he'll tell his dad and Finn and anyone else who doesn't know any better that everything was great with a fake smile of his own. He knows that he'll get a text from Kurt tomorrow asking if he wants to hang out. They'll go for coffee, apologize, and maybe have a make-up make-out session, and things will start righting themselves again.

Tonight was so far removed from the magic it was supposed to be, and this wasn't quite the scene from any given John Hughes movie that he imagined it to be.

It'll be fine. He'll survive it. Kurt will survive it. They'll be fine. That's his mantra as he winds his way out of Kurt's neighborhood and towards the highway that leads home. He knows it's true. It really will be fine.

But it doesn't make it suck any less.