Disclaimer: Ryan Murphy owns Glee, not me :(
Okay, this story IS NOT Klaine, (although it is in the beginning) and Blaine is incredibly OOC in the most obvious way possible: questioning his sexuality et cetera. I'm warning you now, okay, so no hate please! It was just in my head, and I had to get it out :)
It starts in roughly episode 2 of season 4, and follows the basic storyline, but there will be differentiation, seeing as I'm introducing an OC. Spelling or grammatical errors are my own as this is unbeta'd, and I apologise, although I hope that they do end up being few and far between. I procrastinate a lot, and proofreading makes up a huge chunk of that!
Uhm, there's not much more to add apart from that, so I really hope that you guys enjoy.
Wait! My OC swears once, I figured it wasn't worthy of an M rating yet, is it? Sorry!
That's it.
"Blaine! Hey!" Blaine turned from his locker, recognising Sam's voice cutting through the normal buzz of the high school corridor. The blonde haired boy was pushing his way through a group of very scared looking freshmen as he called Blaine's name. "Have you seen the new girl?" Sam leant against the locker next to Blaine's.
With a roll of his eyes, Blaine returned his focus to getting his music books out.
"I'm sure she's not my type." Seriously, Sam knew he had a boyfriend.
"Dude, I know. Wrong gender." Sam teased.
"And I'm taken." Blaine straightened his back slightly, proud of the fact that he was going to maintain a long distance relationship. Sure, nobody said it was going to be easy, but Kurt and he belonged together. They would make it through, because they were in love.
"I don't wanna know if you're into her, I just wanted to know if you'd seen her. She's scary. Hot, but scary. Seriously."
"And what makes her so scary, exactly?" Blaine scoffed. How terrifying could a teenage girl be? He had witnessed Rachel at the height of her annoying stalker period when she was trailing after Finn; and he was there to watch Santana 'go all Lima Heights' on multiple people's asses. Remembering this, he cringed a little.
"People have been telling all these stories of how she went to juvie and broke the nose of every roommate they tried to put her with until they let her have a solitary room." Sam smiled at Brittany as she approached them. "And seeing her this morning, I totally believe it."
"You talking about the new girl?" Brittany pulled one of Blaine's gelled back curls out of its casing and twirled it around her finger. Her new habit was as annoying as it was inconvenient for Blaine, making it necessary for him to take frequent bathroom breaks - simply pushing the offending curl back down was not enough, he had to have a mirror and a comb. And, if necessary, another squirt of gel.
"Yeah, she's in my homeroom," replied Sam. "D'ya know why she went to juvie?"
"People are saying arson," Tina said from behind Blaine's shoulder. "Apparently she set fire to her school's science department." Sam chuckled, pulling Brittany's hand away from Blaine's head.
Blaine smiled at him gratefully before asking, "And did anyone catch her name?"
No one said anything. Brittany squinted, obviously trying incredibly hard to dredge up a memory containing the mysterious new student's name, but she came up with nothing; shrugging, and walking away in the opposite direction to homeroom.
"So, you guys are all giving in to the rumour mill without even bothering to find out her name? Jeez Louise, maybe she's having a hard time." Blaine closed his locker, leaning against the door.
"I don't remember you warming to juvenile delinquents when you were almost blinded by a killer slushie, wielded by a borderline psychotic teenager." Tina raised her eyebrows at him.
"Look, we know nothing about her! Did it not occur to you that maybe the rumours are false? I know how nervous I was moving to a new school, and that was with people I already knew welcoming me. All she's getting is a reputation that she possibly doesn't even deserve."
But Sam and Tina were oblivious to his outburst, looking at something in the corridor. Blaine spun round, catching a glimpse of the back of someone walking casually down the corridor, away from them. She was dressed all in black, and long dark brown hair with red ends hung down to her waist. As she sauntered down the corridor, Blaine saw smoke hanging in the air behind her. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke confirmed his guess. He watched her enter a classroom as the corridor fell into silence for a brief few seconds. Once she was gone, the chatter hesitantly returned, to a lesser volume than before.
The buzz was back.
"Hey." Bline called Kurt on his way from homeroom to the music department.
"Hey yourself." Blaine smiled to himself at Kurt's smooth voice as it came through the receiver.
"How're you? How's Rachel?"
"I'm fine. I miss you. I love you." Kurt sounded a little sad over the phone. Maybe it was just Blaine's imagination.
"I love you too, Kurt."
"And Rachel, is, surprisingly, not pining over Finn at all." Blaine paused outside his class, leaning on the wall next to the door.
"What? I thought she would be-"
"Crying all the time and putting the grocery store down the street's ice cream out of stock?"
"Well, yeah." Blaine walked into music class and got his books out, balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder as he returned the smiles offered to him by his classmates as he sat down.
"She's fine. She still misses him and everything, and every now and then I do see her smile falter, but..."
"What?"
"You have to promise not to tell." Kurt's voice sank to a whisper, so Blaine blocked his other ear as he put his elbows onto his desk.
"Of course not." Blaine smiled. Even if you were no longer in high school, rumours followed you everywhere.
"She's met this guy a few years ahead of her at NYADA – I think he's a TA or something."
"And he's...?"
"Incredibly attractive, to say the least." A sharp flash of, what was it? Jealousy? Shot through Blaine's chest.
"Hey."
"He hasn't got triangular eyebrows, Blaine, you've got nothing to worry about." Blaine laughed. "Triangular eyebrows are my sweetest downfall." Kurt sang through Blaine's iPhone.
"I love that song."
"Sing it at glee."
"Maybe." Blaine spotted Mr Rensleigh entering the classroom. "I've gotta go, class is starting." He heard a sigh from the receiver. "I'll call you, okay? I'll call you soon. I love you."
"I love you too, Blaine Warbler." Blaine unwillingly hung up, and got comfortable in his seat as Mr Rensleigh started quietening the class down.
20 minutes into the music history class, Blaine was bored. He had only been awake for about an hour and a half, and already he could feel his eyelids growing heavy. Mr Rensleigh's voice, after welcoming his students, had quickly returned to the monotone that he was famous for at McKinley. Even when trying to analyse how happy Bach was in each of his two marriages, something that he was quite passionate about, his voice didn't cease its droning. Mr Rensleigh returned to the subject of Bach's marriages at least twice a year, and although Blaine had only been at McKinley for a year, he had been assured by his classmates that they had been listening to their teacher psychoanalyse Bach's relationships since freshman year.
Blaine's thoughts turned to the new girl he had seen that morning. So maybe everyone's assumptions were correct, she was a badass, but it didn't warrant a school full of rumours before anyone had said a word to her. Granted, this was McKinley.
"I always wonder if maybe because Bach was married to someone he knew, his second cousin, that he may have grown up with-" Mr Rensleigh's lacklustre tone was interrupted by the opening of the classroom.
The class would possibly never know how Bach's marriage to his second cousin differed to his marriage to his second wife, because the new girl had entered the classroom, her scuffed up Dr Martens squeaking a little on the grey linoleum of the classroom floor as she weaved in and amongst the desks. Mr Rensleigh fell into silence, as the class watched her with wonder and faint respect. Did he detect a whiff of fear? The girl's reputation had obviously preceded her in this particular class.
He recognised her, but he didn't know where he knew her from. He definitely didn't recognise the stereotypical 'emo' wardrobe.
She was wearing a grey Blink-182 t-shirt, and black skinny jeans. A black hoodie was looped around her arm, and she placed it on the back of her chair as she put her black backpack onto the desk in front of Blaine. It was covered in white out, and Blaine strained to read what was written on the back pack. He made out a few lines of text – from a poem, he presumed – that he didn't recognise.
Come, my friends.
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
The girl sat down, seated exactly in front of Blaine, running a hand through her waves of hair. The smell of her shampoo wafted towards Blaine. It smelled like lemon and mint. Blaine closed his eyes as Mr Rensleigh's voice called out. For once, his voice had life.
"And what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Mr Rensleigh was almost never interrupted, as his students were rarely interested in what he had to say, and his clearly surprised indignant tone cut through the air.
"Is this not the music theory classroom?" Her voice was husky, a result of the cigarettes that she no doubt frequently smoked. Her voice was full of irony, and she had obviously heightened the pitch a little in feigned innocence.
"It is, and you're twenty minutes late for my lesson."
"Oh, forgive me." He voice was still at the slightly higher pitch, the innocence transitioning into dry humour. The class broke out into whispered giggles, and Blaine could hear the smile in her voice.
"Would you like to explain your lateness, miss?"
"Hadley. Call me Sam." She let her voice shift to the natural tone. Realisation dawned on Blaine. Little Sammy Hadley? They hadn't spoken in years, and she was in no way the teenage delinquent sitting in front of him. "I was busy." She shrugged.
"Busy doing what, Miss Hadley?"
"I don't know, stuff. Who the fuck gave you the right to ask?" The quiet sniggers that the class had been emitting ended abruptly. Mr Rensleigh's face turned a nasty shade of reddish purple.
"Watch your mouth. To the principal's office, now." Sam sighed dramatically, picking up her back, and looping her hoodie over her arm once more. Blaine caught a flash of silver on her wrist.
Her charm bracelet.
She pushed her chair skew, and the chair leg protested against the linoleum with a sharp squeak. "The education department gave me the right to ask, Miss Hadley," muttered Mr Rensleigh, looking triumphant at his victory over his student.
"Oh, you're funny. I like you." Sam flashed him a huge smile, and the class broke out into quiet laughs once more, as she said "I'll be sure to always be present in this class." The teacher paled.
With that, she slowly ambled through the classroom door, obviously with no intentions of going to the principal. She slammed the door, and the class jumped, but she quickly opened it back up again to utter a sarcastic "Sorry, sir." Then she was gone. The echo of the door's impact on the frame hung in the air of the silent classroom.
Mr Rensleigh looked relieved at her exit, and his posture visibly relaxed.
"Alright, settle down. Back to Mr J. S. Bach."
Blaine groaned inwardly and put his elbows on his desk, resting his chin on his hands. His thoughts returned to Sam.
The glee club was having auditions in the hall, and Blaine kept wondering if Sam would show up. They used to sing together. But two ten year olds belting out ABBA said nothing for someone's current singing ability. And, come to think of it, apart from Puck, no teenage rebel was ever going to join Glee club unless they were forced to. So he forced himself not to dwell on it.
That's it! End of chapter one!
Hater's gonna hate. Potato's gonna potate. I'm sorry if you're a Klainer – so am I! I cried while watching The Break Up just as much as everyone else! I just want Blaine to have some happiness, that's all...
Uhm, the poem on Sam's backpack is an excerpt from Alfred Lord Tennyson's "Ulysses". So I don't own that. I also don't own the song that Kurt references; Samson, by Regina Spektor. I don't know if Blaine will end up singing it or not, I just wrote the line and decided to go with it?
Thank you for reading this, whoever ends up reading this. Please review if you would like me to continue, even if there's just one of you, it'll be worth it. xo xo