022 // Text.

[showbizpanache]

If anyone has seen or heard anything from Blaine Anderson please let me know. He has been missing for more than a day now.

He hasn't gone home; I know that for sure. I've attached a photo of him for those who haven't previously met him.

Here. His hair is black and curly and he's about 5'7" in height. He was wearing a red Ralph Lauren sweater and cropped jeans.

Thank you.

Comments

[showbizpanache]

He...

[Kurt hesitates, sitting sidesaddle on the motorcycle while Jack stands near him.]

He'd been acting differently. Happier, more energetic. I wanted to believe he was really happy living with me, so maybe that's why I excused it for so long, but...

[He takes a deep breath, shaking his head.] I found drugs in his bedroom drawer. He'd been lying to me about them. And when I tried to take them away from him...

[Slowly he spreads out his hands in front of him. They're bandaged up.]

[allucinator]

[He bites his lip and nods.]

I'm sorry. You want me to heal em?

[showbizpanache]

[He shakes his head.] No. Not if you have to hurt yourself. They're just little cuts, anyway.

[allucinator]

[He nods.]

So you gonna break up with him?

[showbizpanache]

I... [A pause.] No. I don't know.

[allucinator]

[He nods again, feeling useless.]

I think . . . I mean, I dunno, but I think one o' you oughta spend a few weeks outta your house. Him, if it were the best world, but if he won't leave . . .

[showbizpanache]

No need for that. He already left.

[allucinator]

Good.

[showbizpanache]

[Kurt opens his mouth, startled, looking as though he might be mildly offended by that. He closes it again, though, and just falls silent, staring at his wounded hands.]

[allucinator]

I'm serious. If he's hurtin' you so bad, then good he's gone.

[showbizpanache]

[He shakes his head firmly.]

It's not like that.

[allucinator]

What d'ya mean?

[showbizpanache]

He doesn't-- He didn't mean to. [Yes he did.]

[allucinator]

Yeah, well, he did. Mean to or not.