Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance
Characters/Pairings: Kurt/Blaine, background Rachel/Finn
Rating: up to NC-17 (this chapter: PG)
Word Count (Prologue): ~1086 (originally 866)
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual situations, homophobia, and the potential for the occasional plot hole...and angst...
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Sadly.
Summary: Blaine's dreams begin to come true when he gets the opportunity of a lifetime when a major record label comes knocking on his door but there's a stipulation he didn't expect. How will it affect his relationship with Kurt, whose struggling to make his dreams come true. Klaine future!fic
Written for this prompt over at glee_angst_meme
Title inspired by the song "Breathless" by Darren Hayes.
A/N: Rewrite Posted November 2nd; Main Edits: missed grammar mistakes, better paragraphing and phrasing, Better foreshadowing
Thursday, June 16, 2022
Releasing a soft breath of air through his lips, Blaine Anderson leaned back in the stiff-backed chair he sat in, trying to ignore the eyes of the men and women in the room with him. He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, gently loosening the gel that held his unruly curls in place, much to the chagrin of the hairdresser to the far left of the room. The second his hand dropped back to his lap, she wandered over to him, comb and hairspray in hand, and set to redoing his hair, ignoring his attempts to avoid her hands.
Realizing that nothing would stop the woman from doing the job she was hired to do, Blaine relented and studied the room instead, attempting to gauge the mood of the rest of the people: were they judging him, did they even care who he was, did they even know who he was? Would they care what he had to say? And if they did, would it make them dislike him? And his career? What would become of it? Would it be okay in the end?
Blaine would have been lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Being here, though, in this position, sitting in a somewhat uncomfortable chair – although, in reality, the chair was plush and quite comfy; his anxiety affected his ability to find a comfortable position and he continuously shifted his position in his seat – in a small room filled with cameras and microphones, bright lights shining directly in his eyes, and several nameless people, who were probably not paid enough for the work they did, hovering in the darkened areas waiting for their cues wasn’t new for him.
He had given countless interviews throughout his relatively short but illustrious career, charming each and every interviewer he met, as well as audiences alike. It had taken time, but he had grown comfortable in the national and international limelight. In the entertainment business, interviews were par the course. They were done for specific reasons, typically promoting whatever ‘product’ needed to be sold to an audience. Blaine hated calling his work a product as it held too much personal meaning to be merely reduced to a product, but that was what the men and women – mostly men – who made the decisions at the highest tier of the business deemed the end result: a product to be sold to the masses for profit.
But today wasn’t one of the usual interviews. The circumstances that surrounded the scene today were different from anything Blaine had ever done. And that was what made him nervous. But he couldn't back down, couldn't run away, no matter how much his inner voice wanted him to hide, to go back to the status quo he held for so many years because it was familiar territory.
He needed to do this. He had to. He should have done a long time ago. He had promised to do so years ago. But he had let things go too far before realizing his error; he had let his love of the stage and his innate desire to please everyone – despite the futility of such a desire – get in the way of what really mattered to him. And now he needed to at least try to rectify his mistake to the public. He couldn't take back everything that had happened, but perhaps he could at least try to make amends. He had finally realized that those who loved him, those who really mattered to him had been right. They had been right all along. He had just been too blind to see it.
It had taken a long time before he had been able to fix his mistake with those in his personal life; so many months apologizing, long distance phone calls, and anything else he had to do to finally set things right and back on track. And eventually, things did get better. Forgiveness and love was found again; he felt whole once more. It had been like a weight had been lifted off him.
(He refused to believe the words of his loved ones that he hadn’t be entirely to blame, that some of the problem rested on their shoulders.)
Now he had to – no, Blaine wanted to go public. He felt a personal need to do so, to clear the air. To, at last, be honest. To finally be himself again. And yet, despite his intense need to do this interview, Blaine still felt overwhelmed by nerves. This was the type of interview that could forever change his career and future. If public reaction was negative, his career could very well be impacted. But if things went well, if he was fully accepted afterwards, then things could perhaps go on as they always had…minus the constant lies hovering over his head.
Blaine looked up to notice the woman conducting the biggest interview of his career approach the man behind the cameras; a headset around his neck signaled his status as the director. She was an older distinguished woman with shoulder length blonde hair and a comforting smile. Blaine had had a chance to talk with her prior to today and he found her to be wonderful and considerate. She understood the pressures and the worries he had and she assured him she would help him through it if he needed.
She discussed the interview and some of the technical aspects with the director for a moment while accepting a lavalier, a small clip-on microphone, from the sound technician. She placed the transmitter underneath her beige suit jacket, attaching it to her belt, and clipped the microphone to the left lapel of her jacket, making sure it was secure. She nodded to the director, signaling that she was ready to begin the interview, before turning around and walking toward Blaine.
Blaine straightened in his chair, not wanting his nerves to show. The interviewer sat down in the chair across from him and accepted a small paper tablet from a production assistant and flipped through the pages while Blaine watched on in silence. After a brief look at her notes, she looked at him, a soft, calming smile on her face. “Well, Mr. Anderson,” she spoke, her smooth voice as comforting as her smile. “Shall we begin?”
Blaine swallowed the thick lump in his throat. His right hand fell to his left, instinctively reaching for the silver metal band around his finger. He nodded. “Yeah, let’s get to it.”