Chapter Text
One
‘Dude, this is gonna be so awesome! I can’t believe I’m finally gonna meet her!’ Sam bounced across the room to check his hair in the mirror again, smoothing it back behind his ears. He wondered briefly if he should have kept the ponytail. He’d thought it looked totally hot, but Blaine had refused to move in with him until he cut it off, and he figured it was worth the sacrifice when he’d managed to persuade Blaine to ditch the gel at the same time. For the greater good… he thought, casting a glance at Blaine’s tousled curls in the mirror.
Blaine sat down on the edge of his bed, and folded his hands. ‘Look, Sam…this is going to be a great party. We’re gonna go and dance with our buddies and have a good time. If she’s there, then fantastic. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if she’s not. We’ll still have the best time, ok?’
‘I know, man. I’m just psyched to even have the chance to meet her. I know she’s not your type,’ Sam shot Blaine a wink, ‘but she’s incredible. I mean, the Mercedes Jones, man!’
Blaine rolled his eyes a little but couldn’t hold back a smile. Sam had crushed on Mercedes Jones since he’d seen her in Dream Girls on Broadway the year before.
He stood up, smoothing down his pants. ‘Alright Casanova, here’s the deal – you go put on chapstick for the four hundredth time, I’ll put on my spiffiest dancing shoes, and we’ll get out of here and go to this fabulous party. When we get there either Mercedes Jones will be there and she’ll of course fall hopelessly in love with you and you’ll live happily ever after, or she won’t be and you and I will get drunk and fall down a lot.’
‘You, Blaine Anderson, have got yourself a deal!’ Sam span around and caught Blaine’s hand in a high five. ‘BLAM!’ He headed to the bathroom to grab his chapstick, muttering ‘It’s party time! P-A-R-T-why? Because I GOTTA!’ He span around and did finger guns at Blaine as he backed out of the room.
Blaine laughed at his officially ridiculous roommate, and went to grab his shoes. He understood why Sam was so excited – his own stomach was full of butterflies, too. The party was initially supposed to be a standard annual reunion of their old glee club with assorted partners, but then the host, Sugar, had managed to persuade her ex, Artie, and a couple of other glee alumni from five or six years prior to come too, and before they knew it rumours were flying that rising superstars Mercedes Jones, Quinn Fabray and Kurt Hummel were going to be there. Blaine had been a secret Kurt Hummel fan-boy since he was about seventeen, when Mr Schue had played them endless videos of New Directions from years past, including Kurt absolutely killing ‘Defying Gravity’ (which seemed highly appropriate given the swoop of his immaculately styled hair). His ‘Likes Boys’ t shirt hadn’t gone unnoticed either. Blaine had followed his career path with interest, from McKinley High to NYADA, to off-Broadway and beyond. He allowed himself a small, rueful sigh. Once upon a time he had dreamed of emulating his success.
Sam was determined to make the most of his unexpected opportunity to dazzle Mercedes with his killer impressions. Blaine was hoping she would see past that to the sweet, lovely guy that he was – or at least be kind to him if she wasn’t interested, although he didn’t see how she could resist those shoulders and that pout… He shook his head free of those thoughts. He and Sam had been best friends for years, and although it was no secret Blaine thought Sam was super-hot, he had long since been free of any romantic aspirations where his tragically straight best friend was concerned. They were practically brothers.
Sam stuck his head around the bedroom door. ‘You ready to go, dude? Kitty and Lauren are actually ready to leave on time and I’m feeling lucky tonight! Mercedes Jones won’t be able to resist the allure of White Chocolate!’ Sam did one of his famous body rolls which made Blaine snort with laughter. He bumped Blaine’s shoulder with one of his own. ‘And hey, you never know – maybe we’ll both get lucky tonight, huh?’
Blaine smiled back, but honestly, he was happy as he was. His life hadn’t been a meteoric ascent to fame and fortune in the big city, but he was in his last year of his degree in Musical Education at OSU, he was living with some of his best friends, and life was pretty good. In quiet moments he admitted to himself that he still hoped for more, even if he no longer expected to get it. His plans for college had been derailed by his family going bankrupt in his senior year, forcing him to stay close to home to be close to his mother who had never really recovered from the shock of it. His father was as distant and sarcastic as he had been since Blaine had come out aged fourteen, fairly civil but emotionally absent.
Having witnessed the comfortable life he’d always known crumble, Blaine re-considered his chosen career in performing in favour of something safer and more stable. He had found a job in a nearby music store, and worked his way through college. He had found to his delight that he adored his degree. It was one of the top programs nationally, and he loved working with children. He got to make music and help people; it was perfect. He’d managed to get a scholarship which made it possible for him to house-share with four of his best friends. Leaving the oppressive tension of his parents’ tiny apartment was a revelation, even if he was only a bus ride away. He finally felt like he could breathe.
His dreams of a handsome boyfriend, and a life full of romance and music in New York would probably go unfulfilled. But he was mature enough to realise that life wasn’t a fairy tale, and teenage dreams don’t always come true. It didn’t mean his life couldn’t still be fantastic, even if he had to make compromises sometimes. Over the years he had come to terms with not being able to afford his beloved Brooks Brothers clothes, and taking home-made coffee in a travel mug to class with him instead of going to the campus coffee shop. He took the bus instead of running a car, and budgeted down to the cent. He was organised, and determined, and with the help of his friends he was making it work. He refused to compromise on love, though. He’d dated Mr Wrong, Mr All-Wrong and Mr What-Was-I-Thinking, and he’d had enough unsatisfying hook-ups to realise that he was an old-fashioned soul, looking for one special guy. My missing puzzle piece… he thought, before snorting indelicately at himself. Now who’s being ridiculous… He slung his jacket over his shoulder and grabbed his keys. Somehow he didn’t think the odds of finding his one true love at this particular party full of divas and drama queens were all that high.