Chapter 9
Blaine and Sebastian were setting the table in the living room, each working on their task with a quiet intensity. Quinn was in the kitchen, humming to herself, completely unaware of the charged atmosphere between the two boys.
Blaine moved toward the cupboard, reaching for another glass, his fingers brushing against Sebastian’s as they both reached for the same one. He pulled his hand back quickly, heart skipping a beat, but he didn’t look up. Neither did Sebastian.
Sebastian cleared his throat, a small, almost imperceptible sound, before he placed the plates down on the table. Blaine could feel his presence next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed briefly. He tried to focus on the glasses in front of him, trying to ignore the way his chest tightened, but it was impossible to ignore the air between them.
The silence felt thick, almost as if it was hanging in the room, heavy with something neither one of them wanted to acknowledge. Blaine moved to the other side of the table, trying to keep his movements casual. But as he passed Sebastian, their hands brushed again. It was a fleeting touch, but Blaine felt it all the same.
Sebastian, standing just a little too close, muttered something under his breath, but Blaine didn’t catch it. He was trying to steady his breathing, his heart racing in a way that didn’t make sense. He had to act normal. This was just dinner. Nothing weird.
Blaine couldn’t figure out what to say. He wanted to break the silence, make a joke, something to ease the tension. But the words never came. Instead, they continued setting the table in near silence, both of them aware of every little movement, every brush of skin, every glance that lingered just a moment too long.
When Quinn returned with the salad, Blaine felt like he could breathe again, the weight lifting just slightly. Sebastian was already turning away, but the tension between them hadn’t quite dissipated. It hung in the air, lingering even as they sat down at the table, all of them pretending that everything was fine.
Dinner was a quiet affair, the soft clink of silverware the only noise filling the room, aside from Quinn’s occasional comments about her day. She was happily chatting, her voice light as she spoke about school projects, but Blaine felt a constant tension in the air—between him and Sebastian.
Sebastian, usually so self-assured and playful, was quieter tonight, sitting across the table from Blaine with an almost imperceptible intensity in his gaze. Blaine kept sneaking glances at him, feeling his chest tighten every time their eyes met. They both seemed to have this unspoken connection, a weight hanging between them, but neither dared to address it with Quinn right there.
“So, how’s everything been at school?” Quinn asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.
Blaine cleared his throat, trying to act casual. “Same as always. Busy, but nothing too exciting.”
Sebastian chimed in, his voice a little more relaxed. “Yeah, everyone’s got something to complain about. Except Quinn, of course. She’s always the one who’s got it all together.”
Quinn rolled her eyes, clearly used to her brother’s teasing. “You’re such a charmer,” she said dryly, shoving a piece of bread into her mouth.
Blaine let out a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit. Still, he felt like he couldn’t fully settle into the conversation. Every time his hand brushed against the table or he reached for something, his mind would automatically drift back to the way Sebastian had been looking at him earlier. There was this strange, subtle pull between them, like they were both waiting for something to happen—though neither of them was brave enough to make the first move.
“I swear, you guys act like I’m the only one who gets things done around here,” Quinn continued, casting a playful side-eye at both of them.
Blaine smiled but quickly refocused on his food. It was easier to pay attention to his plate than it was to pay attention to Sebastian, whose presence was like a magnet pulling at him. The way Sebastian’s leg brushed against his under the table sent a shiver down his spine, but Blaine didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he casually adjusted his posture, trying to seem unaffected.
Sebastian, noticing Blaine’s movement, gave a small smirk but didn’t push it further. He seemed content to leave things unsaid for now.
Quinn continued talking about her day, unaware of the undercurrent of tension swirling between the two boys. Every now and then, she glanced between Blaine and Sebastian with a raised brow, though neither of them dared to meet her gaze for long.
As dinner went on, the conversation drifted from one topic to the next, but Blaine remained hyper-aware of Sebastian’s every move. Their interactions felt loaded with something neither of them could quite articulate, and every time Sebastian shifted in his seat or leaned in to add to the conversation, Blaine felt the air between them thicken.
By the time they were clearing the table, the air was thick with quiet tension. Quinn was talking animatedly, but Blaine and Sebastian exchanged quick, cautious glances, neither of them saying anything. The words were there, hanging in the air, but neither was willing to speak them.
Quinn went to the kitchen to start cleaning up, leaving Blaine and Sebastian alone in the dining room. The space between them felt charged, and Blaine couldn’t help but notice how close they were, the silence heavy as they both shifted slightly, unsure of what came next.
-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-
Blaine sat at the kitchen table, the envelope from Juilliard resting in front of him. It was thick, official-looking, and the kind of thing he’d been anxiously waiting for. The weight of it seemed to grow heavier by the second, his fingers hovering over the edge but not daring to tear it open just yet.
His heart was racing. He’d spent months preparing for this moment—hours of practice, auditions, and endless second-guessing. He had convinced himself over and over that no matter the outcome, it was okay. He just had to open it. He couldn’t keep waiting.
But now that it was here, it felt impossible to move.
Blaine swallowed hard, glancing around the kitchen. His mom was in the living room, but he didn’t want anyone to watch him open it. He felt like he’d be vulnerable, exposed in a way he wasn’t ready for.
He tried to steady his breath, but his hands shook slightly as he picked up the envelope. His pulse thumped in his ears, and he suddenly felt trapped, like the paper held all his future hopes and fears inside it.
His phone buzzed on the table, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. He grabbed it quickly, hoping for a distraction. A text from Sebastian popped up:
Good luck with the letter!
Blaine smiled to himself, the corner of his mouth lifting. He appreciated that Sebastian cared, even if he still wasn’t entirely sure where they stood with each other.
He stared at the message for a long moment, the anxiety creeping back in. The uncertainty about everything—his future, his relationships, what came next—flooded him again.
But then he remembered something his dad used to say: “You can’t control everything, but you can control how you respond.”
With a deep breath, Blaine took the envelope in his hands, finally tearing it open.
Blaine unfolded the letter carefully, the sound of paper crackling in the quiet kitchen. He took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest, and let his eyes skim the first few lines. His mind raced as he read the formal words—he had almost forgotten how to focus on the sentences, his nerves taking over.
Finally, his eyes landed on the crucial sentence, the one that would determine everything. His breathing caught in his throat, and he read it again, just to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted it.
“We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Juilliard School of Music for the 2012 class.”
His hands shook. A small laugh, half of disbelief, half of relief, escaped his lips. He was in. He’d made it. The weight he’d been carrying for months seemed to lift, as though the world had suddenly become just a little bit lighter.
But then, the reality of it hit him, and the excitement turned into a quiet sort of shock.
He was going to Juilliard. He had done it.
Blaine felt his pulse quicken again, but this time it wasn’t from anxiety, it was from the overwhelming realisation of how much work, how much sacrifice, had gone into this moment.
His eyes drifted to the phone on the table, and he immediately thought of Sebastian. He hadn’t been able to tell anyone how much it had meant to him for Sebastian to reach out with that simple text. Even though they hadn’t talked much about the past few months, Blaine felt his stomach tighten in a way he couldn’t ignore.
The tension between them, the chemistry, the shared unspoken words—it was all there. But now, with this acceptance letter in hand, Blaine wasn’t sure if he was ready to figure out what that meant just yet.
Before he could let his thoughts spiral, Blaine’s mom walked into the kitchen, smiling when she saw him holding the letter.
“Well?” she asked, her voice light but with an edge of curiosity.
Blaine could only smile back, still somewhat stunned. “I… I got in.”
Her face lit up with joy. “Oh, Blaine, that’s incredible! I’m so proud of you!” She wrapped him in a hug, and Blaine hugged her back, feeling the weight of everything finally start to sink in.
His mom pulled away and looked at him fondly. “What’s next? Are you going to call Quinn? Or…?”
Blaine nodded. “I will. I’m just… it’s a lot to process.”
“I can imagine,” his mom said. “But this is what you’ve worked for. You deserve this, Blaine.”
Blaine exhaled a slow breath, feeling the excitement start to settle in. “Yeah. I think I finally believe that.”
The knot in his stomach that had been there for so long—about the future, about everything—was slowly unraveling. Maybe things weren’t perfect, and maybe he wasn’t sure where everything was going, but for the first time in a long while, Blaine felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.
He was going to Juilliard.
And whatever happened next, he was ready.