Chapter Text
He stared at the screen for longer than he should have. The black lines began to run together, the letters causing a large headache. Kurt Hummel sat in a quiet corner of the New York City Public Library, shocked and in awe. He refused to study at the NYADA library, where Rachel could find him or where her sycophants could snap pictures of him to her and make fun of how hard he was concentrating. Plus, on the other side of town, no one would be able to read the email he was certainly pouring over. He read it over and over again. He double-checked it was addressed to him.
Mr Hummel,
The Office of University Affairs and the Student Study Abroad Program are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted to the spring program at the Royal Holloway University of London to study Design and French! Attached is a file package of necessary information in regards to your semester abroad with us! You will receive a following email about scholarship and grant opportunities. We are so excited to have you at Royal Holloway! Please feel free to contact us at the department with any questions you may have,
Rebecca Dawson
University Affairs
860-433-4566
Kurt gripped the side of his Mac and glanced up and quickly scanned the room. He couldn’t believe this! He applied for a few programs, one in London, one in Auckland, and one in Seoul. Those were the only ones out of the 100 some programs NYADA offered that would give him the courses he needed to further his arts degree. London was absolutely his first pick, although Auckland looked just as beautiful. He knew this was a possibility, but the thought of leaving his new home, of the place where he was most comfortable? It scared him. He clicked on the attached file and quickly scanned through the numerous pages in the PDF. It would cost 6 thousand dollars, take six months, and he would leave London with 20 credit hours, some in accelerated courses. He needed a Visa, he needed to fill out the 10 pages of transfer program paperwork, and he would need a physical from his primary care physician, but damn, Kurt Hummel was going to London! To live! Where no one knew his name? No Rachel Berry to take the limelight from him, no Blaine Anderson to demand his love and affection, no bitchy or catty highschool girls that exchanged conflict for comfort.
He took a deep breath in and furiously blinked away tears. He typed out a quick thank you reply, and then set a date to meet with her in her office to turn in final paperwork. He would need to start packing and looking at flights. It was a little bit overwhelming, and he was afraid of what his father and step-mother would say, but Kurt would be lying if he couldn’t tell you exactly how excited he was. There was a huge surge in his veins at the thought of being able to be himself and free in England! Studying abroad, for some, was considered a typical part of the college experience, but for sheltered Ohioan Kurt Hummel? As a child, Kurt longed for a life outside of Lima—he knew his father would disapprove immensely. Burt was a good man but he was content with his simple life, and he wanted success and safety for his boys. That meant staying in Ohio forever.
Kurt’s finger lingered over the play button. Blaine left constant text messages and voicemails since the Eli situation, and every single one of them filled him with a terrible sense of longing and anger. They pooled in his belly and filled his throat with bile. He would cry, he would scream, he would write rants in his journal—nothing ever helped soothe that ache besides radio silence. He didn’t want to talk to Blaine, he didn’t want to look at Blaine. He didn’t want to see anyone else that wanted him to talk to Blaine. For some reason, along the way of their relationship, all of his former high-school friends had become just so invested in their love story. It became an identity, it became who Kurt was. Kurt firmly believed he was more than just the love he could give to a boy. Wasn’t he Kurt? Didn't he have talent, and worth? Beyond being Blaine Devon Anderson’s sidekick? The truth was, that many of the members in Glee never really cared for who Kurt was. Blaine was Kurt in more palatable ways, and Kurt came to terms with that long before the cheating and the breakup.
Kurt pressed play and slipped his headphones in.
“I don’t really like that you’re ignoring me.” Blaine’s soft weary voice filled Kurt’s ears. “It’s not like I haven’t said I’m sorry a million times. You’re just being dramatic now, Kurtie! Seriously, I love you. You and I? We’re meant to be, baby. Just call me and we can talk about getting back together. You’ve made your point.”
Kurt rolled his eyes and pressed his hands to his temples. His headache was raging. He deleted the voicemail immediately and placed his phone on the table. He glanced at the time, 4:45. He could easily stay in the library all day, doing homework and scouring the web for inspiration for his fashion blog, or he could go home and be comfortable in his bed, watching reruns of his favorite tv land shows. But at home, he would have to face Rachel. He would have to face all of her questions about Blaine. His fingers drummed against the side of his laptop, before finally deciding on spending the afternoon window shopping.
He arrived at his front door around 8, exhausted and yet, finally peaceful after an evening to himself. He stopped by the Gucci store, bought a small brooch that only cost him 24 dollars at a second-hand boutique and planned three new outfits for his Instagram and a spread for Isabel. Kurt placed a small hand on the door before sighing. He could hear the faint sound of Santana cooking, pots and pans banging on the stovetop. Rachel was singing-- he couldn’t recognize the tune through the heavy wooden sliding door, but Kurt recognized the timbre of her voice.
He slid the door open and smiled at his friends.
“Kurt!” Rachel said immediately, her heels hit the polished mahogany floor as she ran towards him, sheet music in hand. He saw Santana raise an eyebrow over the tamales she was preparing.
“Rachel,” He replied.
“How dare you not tell me that you got back with Blaine?” She said as she accused, arms folded at her chest, her Rachel necklace swayed against the wool of her heavy black turtleneck. Santana stopped cutting an onion to watch.
“Can I set my bags down Rach or do you need to interrogate me at the door?”
“No, seriously! I’m offended that I had to hear about it from Artie who was told by Kitty who found out from Marley after a sleepover she had with Tina!”
Kurt really couldn’t keep up with her logic. He brushed past her and walked towards his section of the apartment.
“Kurt! Don’t ignore me! I’m happy for you, but I thought we were closer than this!” He looked at her before sharply closing the curtain. They had an unspoken rule in the apartment when curtains were closed they all knew to leave well enough alone. Where had she gotten that information from? He wasn't with Blaine! Kurt knew that he probably would not get back with Blaine anytime soon and yet . . . he had ignored all the texts and calls from Blaine during his evening to himself, but now that he was finally home he unlocked his phone and clicked on the message icon.
15 unread text messages from Blaine DO NOT RESPOND Anderson.
Kurt i love you
Kurt pls respond
You really think you can replace me?
KURT I love you so much, Kurt! Listen, I know you’re still mad but I have this really great date idea for an evening out. I’m gonna go ahead and get us the tickets. I promise it’ll be spectacular.
Kurt stopped reading immediately. He felt sick again. Had Blaine told everyone that they were together again without consulting him? Did Kurt’s feelings and opinions no longer matter anymore?
Kurt set his items aside before crawling into his bed and burrowing under the covers. He wanted to cry. How had he ended up in this bizarro situation? Before he had time to reflect and consider his options the curtain was thrown back and Santana barged in.
“You got back with the rabbit? Why would you do that?” She said. Kurt slowly emerged from his cocoon.
“Santana, I - I didn’t.” He said slowly. At first to reaffirm it to himself, that maybe he had called Blaine in his sleep or a secret evil twin hadn’t come from a far distant planet to take over his life. He was starting to think like Sam . . .
“You didn’t? Why am I getting a dozen texts congratulating Blanderson in the glee group chat?”
“There’s a group chat? How come I’m not—whatever, San. I am not dating Blaine and I don’t think I will be anytime soon.”
“Oh,” Santana said. She slipped her hands into her pajama bottoms and nodded appreciatively. “Why is he telling everyone you are?” She asked. She stood at the curtain before running a hand through her way and climbing atop his bed. She shoved him aside and grabbed a hold of his blanket. “Berry went out with that weird guy she’s seeing so you can speak freely,” Santana said as she moved to get comfy.
“He’s been texting and calling non stop lately. I try to only answer when he seems to get really upset, but my Dad called the other day to tell me a story about when he was dating my Mom. San, he was all but begging me to get back with him! He said he didn’t care about what happened between us, only that love was precious and innocent and that I owed it to Mom’s memory or something like that.” Tears began to prickle at the edges of Kurt’s eyes and he knew that if he kept talking he would cry.
“Whoa—really? That’s pretty fucked, Kurt. Like, that's more underhanded than something that I would do,” Santana said. Kurt sighed. He played with the strings on the old blanket but when he looked up at his friend again tears were openly falling.
“I just—don’t know what to do. Santana, I hate it here. Everyone is Blaine’s friend and not mine. I see him everywhere, he has everyone and now he has my Dad? What do I do?” Kurt began to sob into the corner of his blanket. Santana rubbed his back gently. “—and I got accepted to this - this - this program in London. I think that I—”
“Whoa, whoa. London? Since when did you apply to study abroad?” Santana asked.
“Last month, I saw an ad at a campus event and I went to the information meeting. But I don’t know if I should go.” Santana tucked a strand of silky black hair behind her ear before she responded.
“You ever been to Europe, Kurt?” She asked, even though Kurt was positive she knew the answer. He shook his head no.
“How many states outside of New York and Ohio have you been to?”
“My aunt lives in Washington but I never went to visit her…” Santana humphed and crossed her arms.
“That’s my fucking point. When will you ever get the chance to do this again? You wanna’ go to Europe then go to freaking Europe! Who cares what these tiny minded freaks from high-school think. From high-school! Kurt! High-school! Do you know how many of the girls from the cheerios I talk to? Two. And that’s literally Quinn and Brittany when she’s not mad at me. I live with you and Berry but if it wasn’t for this group chat I wouldn’t be talking to anyone else. It’s okay to not be friends with the people that knew you when you were a kid. It’s okay to grow apart and separate from a place that caused you hell.” Santana said with passion as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
Kurt had stopped crying, but tears still feel down his cheeks.
“Believe it or not, Hummel, but it’s okay to not marry your high-school sweetie. We haven’t even peaked yet, we have room to grow! Go to England. Fuck as many British guys as you can. Make mistakes, learn, grow, dance, be happy. As cliche as this fucking sounds, and I know it does, this is amazing for you.” Santana slipped out from under the covers before turning to give Kurt a hug.
“San, don’t tell anybody yet? I think I still need to process this.” Kurt asked as he wiped his tears.
“Kay, that’s fine. You should stop crying. You look like a weird cabbage patch kid.” Santana smiled as she walked away.
Kurt laughed.
"San," Kurt called from his now obvious blanket cocoon. She turned around and walked back.
"Yeah?"
"You still have that money your parents gave you?"
She shrugged and made a gesture with her hands.
"I spent a few thousand but I've got 15 set aside in my savings. The rest I use for rent and bills." She said.
"You should come with me," Kurt replied. He hadn't thought about bringing anyone with him, and since Santana wasn't enrolled she couldn't the program he did, but she could visit him or move into an apartment with him.
"You'd need to get your Visa paperwork done as soon as possible but it'd be nice to have someone with me in a foreign country."
Her body went still, and her hands came to rest at the hem of her blouse. It was obvious she hadn't thought that was something he would ask her. It made sense to Santana, and she was lost and needed a direction to move her life into. Could she chase her friends as they followed their dreams for her entire life? Of course not, but she was young, and Santana firmly believed in doing whatever she wanted.
"Bet. I'll text my Dad to get started on the process right away."
Kurt felt relieved, and he knew his Dad would be more inclined to let him go if he had someone with him.
He smiled and turned around, snuggling closer into the covers.