The world was shaking, a thrumming quake that rocked the mattress Blaine was splayed out upon. He didn't stir, he just let the rumbling go on as he lie there in a semi-conscious state. If it was some sort of earthquake or natural disaster, maybe it would bring the building down on top of him, anything to escape the tight sensation gripping his chest. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, he didn't want to ever open them again, he never wanted to see the light of day. What was the point? Instead, he let the earth shake and the pain swallow his heart. What was worse, was the pain in his chest got more and more severe as he became more and more conscious.

Snapshots of Kurt flashed behind his eyelids, his blue eyes, his smile, his blush, the way he walked, his regal elegance. Sensations soon accompanied the pictures, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, the feel of his smooth skin, the sound of his sigh. Was this a dream? His heart beat faster and his skin grew feverishly hot, the images turning nightmarish. The smile turned into a painful grimace, the eyes swam with tears, his lips tasted of salt tainted by the tears he shed. The pit of Blaine's stomach fell out leaving him hollow and nauseas as he was trapped in this perpetual nightmare while the earth trembled beneath him.

Next what hit him was a crash of misery bringing the roaring torrent of heartache with it. His heart was beating too fast, his skin slicked in a cold sweat, head spinning and pounding, his stomach knotting and becoming more and more acidic, a lump rising in his throat. He felt sick, as though he was going to vomit, the bile creeping up his throat. He slowly became more and more conscious as his nausea grew. The bed was shaking around him, forcefully bringing him out of his unconsciousness. A loud sound was muffled in his ear, something he became more and more aware of as he ascended the levels into consciousness. Soon the sound took on the pattern of a voice, a familiar voice.

"Blaine? Hey, Blaine?" the garbled voice spoke in his ear. His head was spinning, already feeling light headed as he came to. He was panting, his lungs burning under his thrashing heart. "Blaine!" the voice asked more frantically, the mattress shook more violently under him. He felt a sharp pain on the side of his face and heard a hard smack. "Wake up! You're scaring me!" the voice commanded. Blaine's stomach rolled violently and snapped him into consciousness, his eyes flying open. "Thank God," the familiar voice exclaimed and the mattress stopped shaking. Blaine didn't even look to see who had woken him, he scrambled out of bed and made a bee-line for his bathroom, the bile surging up his throat. He barely made it to the toilet in time.

He kneeled over the white porcelain bowl and let his stomach violently empty its burning contents. He hadn't eaten for a while so nothing really came up, just stomach acid accompanied by painful dry heaving. He was slicked in sweat and burning up as he dry heaved into the toilet again. "Blaine?" came the voice, muffled in his ringing ears. He moaned into the toilet in response, his reply cut off by another bout of dry heaving. His palms were slick against the smooth surface of the bowl and his body began to tremble all over. Someone began rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades.

"Oh Blaine," Elise sighed as she rubbed her hand on his back. Blaine shuddered and let out a sob into the toilet before he dry-heaved again. "Shhh," she cooed. Tears were flowing in tracks down Blaine's face over the sheen of sweat that was already there and his body began shaking more. He couldn't take the pain, it was too much.

With a wild sob, Blaine whirled around and clutched onto Elise, trying desperately to anchor himself to the earth that seemed like it was spinning off without him. She held him close, running her fingers through his sweat dampened hair and patting his back. He sobbed uncontrollably into her shoulder, letting himself feel everything all at once. Like a monstrous tidal wave crashing on the shore, his pent up emotions overwhelmed him, threatening to drag him under if it weren't for Elise tethering him in place. The ripping sobs cutting through the silence of the apartment didn't even sound human, just a loud and unintelligible strangled chorus.

His whole body shook like a leaf in a hurricane under her touch and no matter how tightly she held him, he seemed to fall apart more and more at the seams. He couldn't help himself, the pain was too much to bear, and he couldn't keep it inside any longer. His chest physically hurt, a ripping, tearing, biting, stinging, burning, ache engulfing his heart and squeezing it hard, making it difficult to breathe. He gasped in air when his lungs responded, his throat burning from the acid he just forcefully expelled. It was too much. It was all too much.

Elise didn't say much as she held him there, sitting on the bathroom floor of Blaine's apartment. She didn't protest when he clutched her so tight it was hard for her to breathe and she didn't pry his hands off her shirt when he fisted his hands in the fabric. She just sat there with him in her lap as he sobbed uncontrollably and inconsolably. He didn't need consoling, he needed to get everything out, every last drop of sorrow and anguish needed to be flushed out of his system. So, she sat there and let him.

Every time the sobs would become less bestial, a fresh wave of pain would hit him, a part of his memory constantly reminding him of his crippling sorrow. He was torturing himself, unable to break out of this cycle of self-inflicted horror. What was the point of trying? At least the pain was something tangible he could hold onto, at least the pain in his chest let him know his heart was still beating even though it was broken.

And beat, his heart did. It cast out a keening song as it shattered in his chest, crying out to Kurt, the only man that had ever been able to break his heart. His head was spinning, his skin coated in a cold sweat, his eyes streaming with burning tears, his stomach turning and rolling; he was a mess and it seemed like the torture would never relinquish its hold on him.

It may have been minutes or hours by the time he cried himself dry and sobbed himself hoarse there in Elise's arms on the bathroom floor. He came back into reality and it was cold, the chill from the sheen of sweat tying into the feel of the cold tile of the bathroom floor made him shiver. He couldn't sob any longer, his vocal cords rough and raw from overuse, so he sniffed and let out breathless whimpers even though his tear ducts had dried up. His body was physically incapable of mourning any longer, but his heart wouldn't let him stop. The sting was still there in his chest and his lungs felt too heavy for him to draw breath.

Elise picked up on it when it seemed like the worst was over and slowly leaned away from the limp man in her arms. She held his chin in between her finger and her thumb and brought his red eyes up the meet hers. She sighed and ran her hand through his damp, tangled nest of curls, "why don't you take a warm shower?" she suggested loosening her grip on him. He nodded. She rose from the floor and reached out a hand to him, he slowly and shakily got to his feet, his limbs cramped form the awkward position he had been contorted in. "I'll be right in the other room if you need anything," she reassured him. She gave him a wavering smile, trying to be as reassuring as she could even though seeing him this miserable was tearing her up inside, and left the bathroom closing the door behind her.

He stared at the door after her, unwilling to move. His whole body went from a searing pain to numb. He couldn't feel anything, and he much preferred this to the torture he had just endured. He shuffled to the toilet and flushed the acid in the bowl before turning on the shower, setting the water to the hottest temperature the dial would go. He was freezing, his clothes soaked in a chilling sweat and he was unwilling to strip down to get into the shower, but he eventually did, his movements slow and detached. He left his clothes scattered about the floor as he stepped into the steaming shower.

He stood under the beating water, staring at the temperature dial, feeling too drained to do much. If he had expected the warm water to wash away his feeling of emptiness, he was wrong. If he was hoping it would take away the chill in his bones, he was wrong. The steaming water warmed his skin, but it didn't penetrate any further. Inside, he felt cold and numb, his heart was heavy and frigid, not a drop of warmth to be found.

He felt alone, he felt like he would never feel anything but this numbness ever again. He looked up and closed his eyes, letting the water splash over his tired eyes, the temperature stinging his sensitive eyelids. He let his body act on its own accord, washing his hair and scrubbing his skin, not really feeling any of the movements.

He spent a long time in the shower, unwilling to leave and face everything once he stepped out of its warm embrace. The hot water slowly turned cool and Blaine gave up on trying to wash away his sorrows and stepped out of the shower, toweling off as he went back into his bedroom. On his bed were neatly folded clothes, set out by Elise he assumed. He dressed in the plain tee-shirt and the comfortable sweats deftly and left his room to enter the kitchen and face Elise. As he meandered down the hallway the smell of breakfast hit his nose making him feel nauseous, his stomach cringing at the thought of food.

Elise was busy over an iron skillet on the stove, cooking eggs by the look of it. On the center island of the kitchen rested a single plate with buttered toast on it meant for Blaine who sat in front of it, warring with himself on how best to get Elise to leave him to wallow alone. She turned to the counter and slid the eggs onto his plate in one swift movement before casting the sizzling pan into the cold water of the sink faucet. The smell hit his nose and he wrinkled it, food just did not seem appealing to him at all.

Elise saw him turn up his nose at the food and sighed as she slumped down into the stool across from Blaine. "You need to eat," she sighed pushing the fork into his hand, "this is pretty mild so it won't be too rough on your stomach and if it is, it won't be too unpleasant if you throw it up. Eat." Blaine took a slice of toast and bit a small corner off and chewed slowly to appease her.

He chewed the toast in silence and looked past Elise out the window where the streets of New York were being beaten by a driving rain from the dark clouds overhead. He took another bite of toast as he stared numbly out the window at the rain, feeling the irony of the pouring rain to the storm cloud in his chest. Elise got up and poured him a glass of water, setting it gently on the countertop next to his hand, silently urging him to drink.

Blaine glared at the cup and swallowed the food in his mouth, "Elise," he croaked, his voice hoarse, "you don't have to—"

"Yes I do," she cut him off, taking his hand.

"You should go, I'm sure you're pretty busy," he tried again. He knew he must have sounded like an ass, but he just needed her gone. He hated acting like this but all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball by himself and never move again, he didn't want anyone else to be privy to his mourning.

"Blaine, I can't leave you alone like this," she sighed tightening her grip on his cold fingers.

"I'm fine," he replied, his inflectionless tone betraying his lie. Elise caught onto it and looked at him through narrow eyes. He sighed in defeat, "I just want to be alone."

She shook her head, "that's not going to do you any good. Wallowing alone in the dark for hours on end will drive you up the wall. I'm staying."

Blaine sighed and shook his head, stabbing his eggs with his fork and chewing them slowly, ignoring Elise entirely. He knew he had no right to be frustrated with her, but the only thing he wanted was to be alone.

"Are you feeling any better?" she asked tentatively as he ate.

"No," he replied bluntly, setting his fork down on his plate and rubbing a hand over his face. Talking was becoming a chore, his voice getting thick again and his eyes pricking with the threat of tears. He held them back though, gritting his teeth and focusing on the food on his plate. Elise was trying to help him, he just didn't want her to be there. Why couldn't she understand?

"I got rid of the flowers," she muttered a few minutes later. Blaine looked up and noticed an empty vase in the drying rack next to the sink, "they were from Nate and I figured that you would rather not have them around."

Blaine blinked, he had never even thought to throw the flowers away and he felt guilty that he had forgotten all about Nate and how he was probably feeling this very moment. Probably just as heart-broken as I am, Blaine thought to himself.

"I'm sorry if that was overstepping," Elise apologized, mistaking Blaine's hurt look for resentment towards her, "I thought seeing them would bring back memories you didn't want—"

"Thank you," Blaine cut her off. "You're right, I just didn't think to do that when I got back."

Elise smiled, "you're welcome." They lapsed into another silence and Blaine continued to pick at his eggs, hoping the silence would drive Elise out of his apartment. Yet, there she sat across the countertop holding his free hand like she was keeping him there. "I tried calling you a bunch of times yesterday and this morning, but you didn't pick up," she began, "I got really worried about you."

"Oh," he replied, feeling the guilt flare through his numbness for a second, "sorry," he mumbled, without meeting her glance.

"Blaine?" she asked squeezing his fingers, bringing his eyes up to hers, "wh-what happened yesterday?"

Blaine shook his head numbly and felt nauseous again. He shoved the plate of food away from him as his stomach rolled, the numbness he had settled into turning into the hell he just went through before his shower. He retracted his hand from Elise's and buried his face in his hands, breathing deeply to keep himself from spiraling again. No more, he moaned internally. If this was the cycle he was going to go through over and over again he was going to really lose it. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly, feeling the ache in his chest set in again.

"Blaine? Talk to me," Elise encouraged, "you can't bear this pain alone," she reached across the countertop and rubbed her hand in a soothing pattern on his arm. He took a slow, deep breath through his nose and looked up at Elise from behind his fingers. She smiled up at him and her eyes were concerned, but she put on a brave face for him. She reached up and tangled her fingers in his and pulled his hands away from his face and clutched them on the table top between them.

He gave her a small smile and nodded before pausing to draw another deep breath, "yesterday I went to see K-Kur-Kurt," he began, the name sticking in his throat and stabbing him in the chest. Elise squeezed his fingers in encouragement. "I wanted to talk about what happened. He didn't want to bring it up so we argued."

Elise nodded, "you needed to talk about it," she agreed.

"Right," Blaine sniffed, feeling the tears bite his eyes in anticipation of what came next. "I-I told him that I love him," Blaine whispered without looking up. A singular tear trickled down the bridge of his nose and splashed on the table.

"What did he say?" she asked. "Was he pissed? Did he yell at you?"

Blaine shook his head and let out a sob, "no! That would have been easier!" he moaned as another tear broke through his lashes.

"What did he say to you?"

Blaine gripped her hands tightly and took a shaking breath in a desperate attempt to keep his voice even. "h-he—" Blaine let out a choked sob and began to tremble. "He told me he loves me."

Elise paused and was taken aback at this turn of events, "why are you so heart-broken?" she asked stroking his hand with her thumb, "shouldn't that make you happy?"

Blaine shook his head, "h-he's still marrying Glen," he sniffled as more tears began sliding down his cheeks. His lip began to tremble and he clamped his lips together and took a shaking breath through his nose. "I expected him to be angry with me and t-to tell me he never wanted to see me again. I expected him to tell me we made a mistake. I needed to hear those things from him, I needed him to tell me that there was never any chance for us," he paused and shook his head, "but for him to tell me he has the same feelings I have hurts worse than if he told me he hated me and never wanted to see me again. J-Just knowing that there was a chance for us, a small chance, and he said no to it. Like nothing meant anything to him. He chose Glen, and he will always choose Glen over me. No matter how much I love him, how much I beg, how many tears I shed over him, he won't be mine." Blaine began sobbing, resting his forehead against the crook of his elbow as his heart broke again at the truth in his own words.

Elise rushed over to the stool next to him and wrapped her arm around his trembling shoulders and chaffed her hand against his arm. He lifted his head and wiped the streaks of tears from his face. "I'm so tired," he sobbed, "I'm t-tired loving him. I'm tired of crying over him."

Elise reached up and brushed more tears away from his cheeks, "you deserve to be happy. You are the kindest, sweetest person I have ever met Blaine, if anyone deserves to be happy it's you."

"I'm not happy like this. I'm not without him," he cried. Blaine shook his head and wiped his eyes, "I want to st-stop loving him," he sniffed, "but I can't." He glanced over into his living room at the clock above his television and sobbed, his stomach dropping and feeling like it was full of sand. It read 11:00AM.

Elise followed his gaze and sighed, gripping his shoulder tight, "the wedding is still on for one o'clock this afternoon then?" she asked. He closed his eyes and nodded. "Will you go?"

He shook his head slowly, "I can't. I won't be able to sit there and watch him walk down that aisle and exchange vows with someone else. That's just not something my heart can take," he whispered gripping his chest.

"You won't go to support him and to see your friends?"

He took a shaking breath and let it out in a frustrated gust. "I feel like I should go for-for Kurt, but I can't," he buried his face in his hands, "God I feel so guilty."

"You shouldn't feel guilty," she said rising from her seat and snatching the roll of paper towels from the countertop. She tore one off and handed it to Blaine who wiped his eyes and blew his nose noisily. She stood next to the center island and watched him wipe away his tears. "Have you ever thought of just walking into the wedding and taking Kurt back?" she asked.

Blaine glanced up at her and sniffled, "what?"

"You know like in the movies. When the priest or whoever is performing the ceremony says 'speak now or forever hold you peace' and you just stand up in the middle of the crowded church and say 'I object!'," Elise pounded her fist on the table for effect and grinned at Blaine. He glared up at her with his mouth set in an incredulous line. She beamed at him, "yeah! You can just shove through the crowd and march your ass down that aisle in front of God and everybody and tell Kurt how much you love him!"

"Elise—"

"Just walk right up to him and plant a kiss on him right in front of everyone! Right in front of that douche bag Glen."

"Elise—"

"There's no way he can say no to that. It's the most romantic thing ever! Then he will call the wedding off and you and him can be together—"

"Elise!" Blaine barked. She stopped and her grin fell into a frown. "This isn't a God damn movie!" he half shouted. "I can't just waltz in there and ruin a perfectly good wedding on a whim. Kurt did not choose me. If he had, there would be no wedding to barge into. If he wanted me, this would all just be a bad dream, but it's not. It's reality," he stopped and glared up at his friend who looked crest-fallen. He sighed, "We're in the real world, Elise. I wish I could just go up to Kurt and tell him to run away with me, but I can't. I can't do that to Glen and I can't ask Kurt to do that because I already know his answer. It's no, and it will never change."

"And what makes you so sure it won't?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Maybe all he needs is a little conformation that you really do love him. He needs a little more than a fling and you to just say you love him for him to just up and leave a long-term relationship. You need to show him you aren't willing to give up on him," Elise sat down on the stool next to him and patted his knee in encouragement.

Blaine's jaw moved a few times like his mouth wanted to form words, but he gave up and just let out a defeated sigh. "I wish it were that easy. If getting him back was as easy as walking into that wedding I would do it in a heartbeat. But it's a little more complicated than that. This is what Kurt wants. He wants a life with Glen, that was the choice he made. I can't just go and ruin one of the happiest days of his life because I'm selfish. I won't do that to Kurt," he paused and swallowed hard. "H-He doesn't want me. I'm not enough for him. He's happy with Glen."

"What if you go and he takes you back? What if you walk into that wedding and show him how much you love him and he leaves Glen? Won't that make everything else worth it?" she suggested.

He blinked back the tears welling in his eyes, "and what if I go and he doesn't? I couldn't bear his rejection. Not again," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Elise nodded, "what about you then? Don't you deserve to be happy too? Being happy doesn't mean you're selfish, Blaine."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, "doesn't matter," he mumbled. "Kurt is happy, that's all I want right now. As long as he's happy, I'm happy—"

"No you're not, you're miserable and you know it. You aren't fooling anyone," Elise interjected coolly.

"Well I'll find some way to be happy eventually. But right now all I want to do is go back to bed and be alone," he replied coldly, looking pointedly at Elise.

"If that was a subtle hint for me to leave, I missed it," she snipped.

He glanced up at her and sighed in frustration before turning in his seat and ignoring her totally. She sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he just kept his back to her. She heaved a sigh, "I'm just trying to help, okay?"

His shoulders slumped and he turned back to face her, "I know, but right now I don't think I can be helped. I just need to get over him," his voice cracked.

"It'll be hard, but I know you will get through this. And you will always have me here for you, no matter what," she gripped his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. He offered her a wavering smile in turn and picked at a sheet of paper towel. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"What can I do? I just need to pick myself up by the bootstraps and deal with it."

"How?"

His brain scrambled around for some sort of answer and only came across one, "maybe I should leave."

"Leave?" she questioned, furrowing her brow.

"Yeah. Maybe I should just get on a plane and get the hell out of this city," Blaine mused aloud.

"Like take a vacation?" Elise asked.

He shook his head, "no. Like leave the city and never come back."

She frowned, "no! What would leaving solve?"

He shrugged, "I just don't know if I'll be able to ever even speak to him again. What if I run into him on the street some place? Even if I do manage to get over him, he will just pull me right back in again. No matter how much I fight him, I'm not strong enough and I can't fall in love again with a married man Elise."

She shook her head to expel the tears welling in her vision, "please don't go. You're my best friend, I need you here. And the shop wouldn't function without you. You've seen the teenagers I hired to work the weekends, they're hopeless." He let out a single breathy laugh and nodded. "Please don't go," she begged.

"I just can't find a way around it, either I stay and pine after a married man, or I leave and let myself heal," he thought out loud.

"Where would you even go? Back to Ohio?"

"No," he replied bluntly.

"Then where?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, "back to California maybe. I might still have time to enroll in the fall semester, I could go back to school and finish my degree. Become an actor or a singer. Live the dream I'd always wanted."

She nodded, "but running away from your problems won't solve anything," she asserted. "Not in the long run anyway."

"Maybe it's my only option."

Elise opened her mouth to speak when a shrill ringing shattered the silence. They both jumped and Elise's hand flew into her pocket, whipping out her cellphone and bringing it to her ear in one swift movement. "Hello?" she responded. "WHAT?" she shrieked into the speaker, shooting out of her seat. "How the hell did you manage to do that?" she demanded. She began pacing back in fourth in a small line, her steps quick and angry. "Well have you tried to get him out?" she asked in exasperation. She stopped pacing and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Alright. No it's fine. Uh-huh. Right. No it's fine, don't cry," she sighed into the phone, "I'll be right there." She hung up her phone and shoved it angrily into her pocket.

Blaine looked at her quizzically. She sighed, "one of the guys at the shop got his hand stuck in the oven while it was hot," she sighed, "I have to go get the dumbass un-stuck. I'll be back in a few hours after I get the kid to the hospital and call his parents." She stormed over to the apartment door and wrenched it open. Elise glanced back at Blaine over her shoulder, "don't do anything or go anywhere until I get back alright? I'll be back as soon as I possibly can."

Blaine nodded his head and waved her out. She gave him one last fleeting glance before turning and closing the door behind her.

The apartment was silent, the only sound was the driving rain pattering against the glass windows outside the building. Instead of feeling relieved when she left, he just felt cold and even more alone. He glanced out the window again at the sheets of rain running down the glass and sighed, maybe telling her to go was a bad idea… he couldn't help think to himself as he watched the rain.

Without the distraction of his friend, his heart felt heavy again, sinking in his chest. He swept his half eaten breakfast off the counter and dumped it in the trash, tossing the plate in the sink without washing it. He began pacing around his apartment, just looking for something to keep his mind off the clock as it slowly ticked closer and closer to 1:00. He glanced fleetingly at his guitar case laying on the couch. His hand hovered over the clasp for only an instant before he dropped his arm, music wasn't the escape he craved. He rushed into his room and snatched his laptop off his dresser before returning into his living room and plopping down on the couch next to his guitar case.

He flipped it open and pulled up the internet, waiting rather impatiently for the page to fully load. He typed in the website he had in mind and waited again for the page to come up. His eyes scanned the page quickly, clicking links that lead him toward his destination. He sighed and stared at the screen of his former college's website, is it too late to go back? he asked himself reading over the admissions information. It was early in the summer and most of the admissions had already closed, every link he clicked told him the deadline for applications had passed. Maybe it is… He clicked a few more pages, reading up on the application process before stumbling on a page for returning students. His eyes skimmed the page and brightened, maybe it isn't. Since he had studied at the school previously, he was technically a returning student and he did not need to go through the general admissions process again.

"Perfect," he uttered aloud to himself in the silence of his apartment. He let his eyes rest on the website, torn. What about Elise? He felt guilty, he couldn't leave her, they were best friends. She'd want me to be happy right? He nodded to himself, Of course she would. He still felt torn, how could he tell her he planned on leaving, could he even bring himself to just go? He looked through the page and read through the readmission process. It's only a few forms, he thought to himself. He got up and began pacing back and forth, weighing his options. I have until September to get an apartment out there. I can go straight to the financial aid office and discuss loans first thing when I get off the plane. Where would I stay until I found an apartment? He sighed and paused his manic pacing, a hotel?

He sat down on the couch with his laptop and opened a new tab on his internet, searching hotels in the area of the school. He found three that seemed fairly priced and right near the campus. After a little digging, he found a room for fairly cheap and stared at the page, could it be so easy? As long as I find an apartment in a week or two I can afford this, he thought to himself, mentally calculating the cost of staying in the hotel against the contents of his bank account. Though living in New York was expensive, he still had a good chunk of money from his old job in Ohio and he didn't pay rent when he was living with his parents. I have enough for a deposit on an apartment, the hotel fees I'd have to pay until I found one, what else? He stared blankly at his laptop screen for a moment. Plane ticket.

He opened up a third tab and typed the airline into the address bar. Scrolling fast, he found the different departure flights for California and quickly compared flight times, dates, and costs. There was a flight tonight. Can I really take it? He let his eyes rest on the page. The flight was to depart at four o'clock, I'd have three hours to pack to get to the airport two hours before take-off to get through security. He rose from the couch again and paced a bit more, talking out loud to himself.

"It isn't that expensive. I'd have to find a job and an apartment as soon as I got there. I can't afford room and board on campus. Should I wait? No, what's the point of dragging this out, I can't stay here." He stopped and looked down at his laptop resting on the couch cushion. He sighed, "what about Elise?" his shoulders slumped and he threw himself down on the couch again, leaning his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. "I can't leave her like this," he glanced at the clock. 11:30… Only an hour and a half until Kurt was due to walk down that aisle. "What am I going to do?" Blaine moaned leaning back in this seat and running his hands through his messy curls, making them stick up on end. He couldn't face Kurt, he couldn't leave Elise, he couldn't stay in New York. Any which way he turned he was hurting someone or hurting himself. There was no way to win.

"Don't you deserve to be happy too?" Elise's words echoed around in his mind, "being happy doesn't mean you're selfish, Blaine." Tears of frustration pricked the corners of his eyes, why was this so difficult? His head lolled to the side along the back of the couch and he glanced sideways at the open page on his laptop. He sluggishly reached over and dragged the device over, setting it on his lap. He looked at the ticket information and the departure time on the airport's webpage. Maybe I'll talk to Elise about it when she comes back, there's plenty of time to think about this, I don't need to decide today… He dragged the arrow on his screen and let it hover over the button to close the web page. He caught sight of the time in the corner of his laptop screen and his pulse jumped, Kurt was getting married in an hour and a half. He couldn't bring himself to hit the button.

"No," he muttered out loud to the silence in his apartment, "it's now or never." Determination washed over him and he began furiously clicking through the ticket information. He entered his information into the appropriate boxes and filled out every line, purchasing the ticket for the 4PM flight this evening.

He sent the information to his printer and printed out his papers. As fast as he could, he clicked on the next tab and opened the hotel information website, booking one week at the hotel near his campus. He printed out those papers as well and then printed out the proper forms he would have to fill out for readmission to his college. Snapping his laptop closed, he reached over to the table next to the couch and caught the papers as they were spit out of the printer, still warm. He glanced over all the information quickly and shot out of his seat. He had exactly two and a half hours to pack everything in his apartment into his suitcases and get to the airport.