Everett knew that Blaine was the only person who could get away with a Tom Jones song in 2011. The highwaters, the polo shirts, the bowties, the 1950’s mannerisms paired with 1960’s songs— all part of a look that Everett didn’t even know Blaine had, all kept hidden beneath blazers and striped ties.
He smiled sadly as a bunch of cheerleaders hopped up to dance along— and quite a bit jealously, too, because Blaine doesn’t even appreciate cheerleaders, man— because he knew Blaine would be just fine. He had Kurt, and apparently that was enough to leave his own brother behind to fend for himself.
Maybe Blaine was comfortable leaving Dalton— leaving him— but Everett adjusted the tie around his neck and headed towards the parking lot. Alone.