Light in the dark.
There's yet another inspirational quote staring back at him when he turns the page of the Thunderclap. Something generic about high school being the best years of a person's life, and Kurt lets out a snort that echoes around the mostly empty library.
That annoying girl whose always here stacking the selves like it's her damn job gives him a sour look. Kurt sneers in her general direction, and she wonders off somewhere, still shaking her head disapprovingly. Rachel, he thinks her name is. With some ridiculous last name like Apricot or something. She's always wearing square unrelenting glasses, long pencil skirts and has her hair up in a strict bun that makes her look about 30, even though Kurt knows for a fact she's only a bit over 17, like him.
Berry, her name is. Rachel Berry. She's right there in the Thunderclap, part of almost every club in the school. He guesses the yearbook's good for something after all.
His watch informs him he's free to leave finally. He had to hide in the library because Puckerman promised he was going to dump him in the trashcans after lunch period. An early Christmas present, just before the holidays. Kurt's going to be late for Spanish class, and he didn't have the chance to eat anything all day, but at least he won't have to spend two hours cleaning his boots after school. And they are nice boots, if he may say so himself. He runs two fingers against the smooth leather of them in contemplation. Azimio took one look at them the other day and declared them "fairy shoes". He didn't mean it in a good way of course, but anything the bullies hate immediately gets a stamp of approval in his mind.
He leaves the yearbook, gathers his satchel and makes his way to the hall. Rachel gives him another suspicious look as he's leaving, checking if he's trying to sneak any books out of the library.
He doubts anyone's ever even done that in this school. He's pretty sure most of them can't even read, much less are interested enough to try and take things home with them.
Mr. Schuester's drunk again. He doesn't even notice when Kurt slips in the classroom. Thing is, he never was that good a Spanish teacher to begin with, but in the last couple of years he's turned completely pathetic. Kurt pities that poor child of his.
No one's even pretending to listen while Schuester's scribbling the tenses of "tener" on the blackboard, for the fifth time this semester. Kurt suppresses a sigh. He could be in French class right now. But of course, Finn Hudson just had to take a sudden interest in French- or rather follow his girlfriend Quinn there, like always. Kurt had the most embarrassing crush on him sophomore year, just because he told his buddies to "chill" a couple of times, when they were shoving Kurt into lockers. He'd daydream of Finn, scribble his name in all his notebooks, blush whenever he entered the room. Karofsky got a whiff of it, and then it was embarrassing kissing sounds whenever Kurt tried to talk to Finn and limp wrists when he walked down the hallway. Finn stopped defending him from then on. He pushed Kurt twice as hard against the lockers as everybody else ever since.
It's not like any of them know, not really. The only person he's ever told is his dad, and that happened late last spring. He thought his knees would give out when he told him. He was trembling and sweating before he spilled it out, and his Dad took a good look at him and just said "I know." Ever since his heart attack, he'd been wanting for him and Kurt to get closer, to make up for lost chances. So Kurt had to tell him, finally. He thought he was going to explode if he didn't tell someone the truth. He'd cried so hard afterwards, it was embarrassing. But it was the first time his shoulders didn't feel burdened down to the ground.
But apparently no one at the school needed to hear his coming out speech to be sure. They'd started making assumptions long ago, long before even Kurt had come to peace with being gay, using words he didn't even know sometimes back in middle school.
Someone throws a spitball at his head. Kurt takes it out of his hair and ignores them. Still better than having to share a class with Finn and that Queen Bitch of his.
Tina gives him a small encouraging smile from where she's sitting to his left. People still make fun of her stutter sometimes, but he's sure she's managed to convince a lot of them that she is actually a Satanist or a vampire and they mostly leave her alone. Kurt smiles back. All her goth gear make him want to scratch his eyes out and she could certainly use a good moist towelette to remove all of that makeup- or rather, a couple of boxes of them, but on good days Kurt thinks he kinda prefers her this way. They don't really talk- be it because she's painfully shy or because he doesn't really know what the two of them could even talk about, but the glances and smiles they share everyday have made him like her. Maybe he will talk to her, one day.
The guys from the football team corner him later, when he's putting away his books in his locker. At least Karofsky isn't with them. Kurt swears, there's something very off about that boy. The way he catches Karofsky looking at him sometimes scares him.
One of the new ones is the one who pushes him. Kurt doesn't even know his name. The shove earns the guy laughter from his friends, and claps on the shoulder.
"I told you I was going to get you Hummel." Puckerman is saying, but Kurt's knocked out of breath and his back's hurting too much for him to focus on the words. "What did you do, hide in the girls bathroom like a coward all day?"
"Well I wasn't going to let you catch me now, was I?" he replies as calmly as he can.
Puck laughs, and Evans too. A genuine laughter. Finn's looking confused between them. Kurt really has to wonder sometimes why they even bother. They don't have the drive or the hate that Karofsky has. Mostly they just seem to bully him out of some kind of obligation.
"You're funny Hummel." Puck declares. "Don't you think he's funny boys?" The others murmur uneasily in agreement, not sure where this is going. Puck's smile turns into something colder when he looks back at Kurt. "Too bad you had to wear that faggy vest today." he says in a sickly sweet tone that makes Kurt's hair stand on end.
Kurt catches Mercedes Jones looking on in his peripheral vision. She looks conflicted, like she's ready to step in, but hesitating to do so. She actually had come to his defense once. All fierce determination and scathing tongue. She'd gotten slushie facials twice a day for a week after that. It's still more than anyone's ever done for him.
She walks away, head down, acting like she didn't see anything.
"It's a halfcoat actually." he turns to Puck, carrying on their pretend small talk.
"Oh it's a halfcoat. I'm sorry." The others snicker. "I think you'd be parading around my school in a dress by now if you didn't have me to keep you in line, Hummel."
"Your school? Just because you're going to be here till you're 25 doesn't mean it's your s…"
Puckerman's fist lands on the locker right next to Kurt's head with a resounding thud that makes him jump half out of his skin. "Do not even dare talk back at me homo. You don't wanna know what I can do to you, do you understand?"
"Leave him alone Puck!"
All heads turn to the newcomer. He's in a letterman jacket, a slim, little thing of a boy, with brown hair falling on his forehead, and blue eyes big with fear, looking about as intimidating as a 10 year old. Kurt curses his bad luck because that kid's just going to make things worse.
"This is none of your business dweeb, move along." Puckerman tells him dismissively, but Kurt can tell he's as shocked as he is. No one outside his circle of friends calls him "Puck", for one.
"Where were we?" Puckerman gives Kurt that smirk again, ignoring the other jock completely.
"I can get you suspended if I tell Figgins." the other boy calls out again.
Puckerman shakes his head and clenches his jaw, looking at the newcomer like he's an annoying fly he can't wait to squash.
"Get me suspended for what?" he says nonchalantly. "Talking to my friend Kurt here?" Then with a more serious expression he tells him "You can't prove anything."
"I can prove it if I recorded it on my phone." The new kid tells him, holding up his cell with his right hand. Kurt's almost certain he's bluffing.
Puckerman's glance is menacing and he starts to move toward him when Finn's palm on his chest holds him back. "Dude, no. Just leave it."
"Yeah bro. You just got back from juvie." Evans whispers and Puckerman's face goes pale in under a second.
"Fine. I gotta go find Santana any way. And you know how she gets when I keep her waiting." he says slyly and the others laugh knowingly. He shoulderchecks the new kid as he's passing by him, but doesn't even spare a glance Kurt's way. The others follow him obediently down the hall.
Kurt lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. His back is killing him, and he's finally free to wince at the pain.
"Are you ok?"
Kurt looks back up at the other boy. He would have figured he'd have left by now.
"Yeah. Fine." He gathers his bag and the few books that fell on the floor upon impact. He can still feel the boy's eyes on him. "Thanks. Are you new here or…?" he trails off. The boy seems vaguely familiar, but Kurt doesn't remember seeing him around the school before. Then again, who gets a letterman jacket the day he transfers?
"No, not really. I'm Artie."
"Nice to meet you Artie. Sorry I don't look my best right now." He tries to joke but the pain makes him wince again as he's straightening his spine.
"Are you sure you're ok?" He puts a hand on his shoulder and Kurt instinctively recoils from the touch. Artie sighs. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault."
Kurt looks at him curiously. "Trust me, it's not."
"But it is. Things aren't supposed to be this way. Everything's messed up."
"You can say that again." Artie's still looking at him with a manic expression. "Are you going to have an existential crisis in the middle of the hallway?"
He doesn't seem to be listening to Kurt. "Everything's upside down. I never thought… I don't…I didn't want this to happen… I didn't. You have to believe me!"
"Alright, alright, I believe you." Kurt decides to go with it. He's starting to really doubt the integrity of Artie's mental state by now. "Have you been hanging out with Brett behind the gym today? It's all right I won't tell."
"You don't understand!" Artie cries out and Kurt takes a step away from him. "This world.. it's not the real world. I created it. I'm responsible!"
"Maybe you should see the nurse…" he says carefully.
"But I can't go back now. I just can't. Not back to that."
"Ok…." he nods along, confused.
"I'm sorry Kurt. I'm really, really sorry."
And with that, he's rushing down the hallway, leaving Kurt staring after him bewildered.
He's sitting in the back of the small café, at his usual table, surrounded by books and the paper that's due on Friday right in front of him. The project should be interesting, but Kurt's mind is preoccupied and he finds his gaze wondering around the establishment, jumping from customer to customer, trying to make guesses about their lives. Other people's lives tend to be less boring than his own anyway.
He'd found the Lima Bean almost by accident, one afternoon a bit over a year ago. He'd been in the car, driving around alone, belting out pop songs, like he always did since his dad gave him the car as a present and he just came upon it. The service could use some upgrading, but the coffee's good and it's far enough from Breadsticks and the usual McKinley High hangouts that he can sit here for hours unbothered.
And of course there's them. The Warblers, he muses, just as the small company of boys in uniforms steps in, the door chiming behind them.
He's asked around and found out a bit about them. They are students at Dalton Academy in Westerville, apparently. They are the school's Glee club actually. He'd love to see them perform sometime, but he's heard they only perform on school grounds and competitions.
McKinley doesn't even have a Glee Club, not since Mr. Ryerson got himself fired. He'd thought about joining, back in freshman year, and every day he thanks his lucky stars that he didn't go through with it. The details are a bit vague, as always happens with high school rumors, but if what they said about Mr. Ryerson was true… well, he knew if he had joined, people would have immediately jumped to conclusions about him too.
Their Glee Club had sucked anyway. He likes to think that the Warblers are better than that. They all seem so poised, in their blazers and pressed grey pants. He can't really see them doing the numbers that Ryerson's Glee Club had to endure.
He searches for his favorite Warbler among the crowd of them, and sure enough, there he is. He's almost always at the centre of them, smiling and talking with everyone. Kurt doesn't know why exactly he likes that particular boy most of all. He is handsome, sure, but so are most of them. It's probably the way he smiles, big and unguarded. It makes Kurt's chest fill with warmth. And the way he moves, easily but carefully, like he's constantly mindful of everyone around him. He doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd try to have sex with someone and then never call them.
Kurt's first kiss had gone down like that. It had tasted bitter like cheap beer, and nothing like a first kiss is supposed to be like. He'd heard about the party at Santana's house through facebook, and he was so tired, of hiding away unnoticed and not speaking with anyone, of sitting helpless in the hospital, his dad unmoving on the bed, that he'd decided to crush it. Santana had taken one look at him and pointed him at the table where all the drinks were. No one else told him anything, no one asked why he was there. The news of his dad's heart attack had spread like wildfire at the school, and even the bullies had backed off. He'd caught Finn looking at him with pity more than once that week.
And Kurt had emptied one drink after another, feeling more alone in the house full of people that he ever had before. He had no one, no one, and if his dad died… He found himself making out with a guy he'd never met before in the house's spare bedroom. The kisses were sloppy and too much, and there were hands trying to unbuckle his belt and a voice in his ear telling him it wanted him. Kurt had been sober enough to say no.
The guy had just rolled off him and passed out on the bed next to him. Kurt had stayed up, half sitting on the hard mattress till the sun came out and Santana found them. She took in the scene, looked knowingly right at him, and asked him to leave because her parents would be home soon. He doesn't know why she did it, but she obviously never said anything to anyone about the incident, or else the whole school would have known in a matter of days.
He'd written down his phone number and left it next to the sleeping figure. The guy never called Kurt. He went home and slept on the couch with his shoes still on. He wasn't there when his dad woke up in the hospital.
There's something different about his Warbler today, Kurt muses. The boy hasn't been around the Lima Bean much lately, and Kurt had attributed it to studying for midterms. But as he takes in the scene before him, something tells him that might not have been the case after all. That new boy, the tall one with the overly stylized hair that only started coming to the Lima Bean at the start of the semester, is sharing intimate smiles with his Warbler, as they make their way to the bar to order, is resting his hand on the small of his Warbler's waist, and it's making Kurt's stomach feel empty and cold.
He has no right to feel jealous, he really doesn't. He turns his head and stubbornly stares out the window, refusing to acknowledge them anymore. He can't be sure that what his gut is telling him is true, but even if it is, it has nothing to do with him. His Warbler is just someone to stare at from afar, to dream about when he's feeling too lonely.
It's not like he could ever really be his. Kurt knows no one can be his, at least not now.
Still it was nice thinking about being with someone, even if it was just for his own amusement, with nothing tangible behind it.
Sometimes he thinks he'll always be alone. Those times scare him to his core, make him think terrible things he wouldn't otherwise. But he always keeps himself in check, even when he's hurting and desperate. He could never do that to his dad.
"Hello."
Kurt starts and turns toward the voice. It's his Warbler-don't call him that anymore, just don't- standing right in front of him with two coffees in hand.
"I'm sorry, it didn't mean to startle you, I just.." he has pretty eyes, Kurt thinks. They seemed beautiful before but now, up close, they're painfully so. "I'm Blaine."
"Oh."
Blaine takes a deep breath. "Can I sit?" he seems to think over his words immediately after and hurriedly adds "I'm not hitting on you or anything, I just thought we could talk."
Kurt's even more taken aback. The implications of him saying he could be hitting on Kurt are not something he's used to being said so blatantly at him.
Part of him wants to say he'd want Blaine to be hitting on him, but his voice has deserted him altogether, so he just gestures for him to sit down.
The other Warblers are looking on puzzled from their table at the front. Blaine sits with his back to them.
"I got you a coffee."
Kurt's not sure he can manage to respond to that, so he just takes a sip from the cup offered to him. It's his usual. That seems to make the mute mode in Kurt go away quickly. "You know my coffee order?"
"Not really." Blaine rubs a hand at the nape of his neck. "I asked at the bar."
"OK. Um…Do you want me to fill out a survey or something?"
"What? Oh! Oh, no." Blaine lets out a small laugh. "I just… I'm in here all the time, and I've seen you around a lot. I don't know if you've ever noticed me." Kurt has the self control to keep his mouth shut. Barely. " I've always wanted to talk to you. You always sit here by yourself, all contemplative and deep-looking, and I'm pretty sure you're writing the great American novel or something equally meaningful" Kurt gasps a surprised laugh at that, because Blaine's looking at him as if expecting confirmation on his suspicions. "You always look a little sad, but today especially so, and I wanted to make sure the literary future of our generation isn't threatened."
Kurt feels embarrassment painting his cheeks pink. Here is a boy, not just any boy, but Blaine the Warbler, talking to him, seemingly caring and making somewhat terrible jokes, but all it serves to is making him feel even more pathetic. "Well, I'm thankful for your pity, Blaine, but I don't really need it."
"No! No, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. I just wanted to know if you were alright and… crap." He is blushing and regardless of his hurt pride it's making Kurt's lips form an involuntary smile. "I didn't mean to insult you but obviously it would sound like that, I'm sure it's not every day that some total stranger comes up to you and starts asking personal questions."
"You're actually the second one today." Kurt informs him.
"Really?"
"Yeah but I'm pretty sure he was crazy. Or at least high."
"Well I'm definitely not high and I promise I'm not crazy."
"You're sure? Your friend back there is looking at you like you are."
Blaine turns his head and catches the tall Warbler who had his hands all over him before, staring back at them. The guy mouths something, but he's too far for Kurt to decipher his words.
When Blaine turns back to face Kurt, he has the sweetest smile on his face. It catches Kurt off guard, until he remembers for whom Blaine's smiling.
"Sebastian's just overprotective."
"I see." Kurt tries to catch himself but he asks anyway, against his better judgment "Are you guys a couple?"
"Uh… yes. I think so." at Kurt's questioning look, he goes on. "He's been asking me out all semester and last week…" he smiles even brighter at the memory "I said yes. But we've only been on a couple of dates and I don't know if… see I have this bad habit of falling way too hard, way too fast and then it all ending blowing up at my face. I've even spend hours staring at someone from afar, never doing anything about it and then find myself falling for someone I don't even know. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"No, not really." Kurt answers quickly.
"Well…" he looks embarrassed. "I'm taking things slow this time." His eyes go wide. "Please don't tell Sebastian I said we were a couple."
Kurt laughs loudly at that, he can't help it. "I don't see any time when the opportunity would arise Blaine." The boy smiles back at him.
"I'm Kurt. Hummel." he puts out his hand for Blaine to shake with a new found confidence. It's not like he can embarrass himself a lot more than Blaine has done already.
Blaine takes it. His handshake is firm and professional, like he's about to close a business deal. "Well, Kurt… are you all right?"
"I'm fine thank you, and you?" Kurt answers automatically, dismissively, with a fake smile on.
"You don't look fine."
Kurt sighs, exasperated. "Why do you want to know so much Blaine?"
"…It's Christmas?"
Kurt's eyebrow rises on its own accord. "So now I'm your Christmas project?" Fuck, why can't he ever be friendly, why does the bitching always have to come first?
"Because you look exactly like I used to feel." Blaine says finally, decisively. "And I would have wanted someone to talk to, because sometimes it felt like I'd never not be sad and lonely. And I used to think I was the only one, when in fact it was never so."
"Fine. I'm not ok." Kurt takes a rushed breath. It's nothing, this confession, but still it's everything. It's the first time he's allowed himself to say it out loud, and insignificant as it is, it still sends his head into a dizzying spin. ""Graduation is in a few months, I have no plans, no dreams, nothing. You think I'm doing something important every day when I'm really just hiding. I'm here because I can't go anywhere else without risking running into the same people who make my life miserable at school." He knows he should leave it that but he can't, a dam's been brought down and everything comes flooding out, every word feels like a liberation. "I'm not that worse off than most kids there, but at least they have people that care. No one cares when it comes to me. My best friend is my dad, my only friend, I'm talking to a complete stranger about my life, and he's the first one to really listen, and, god, if that's not pathetic I don't know what is."
"You're not pathetic."
Kurt huffs out a bitter laugh. "Sure. Great." His eyes are stinging and he can feel hot tears threatening to spill over.
Blaine takes a monogrammed handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to him, with a somber expression.
Kurt huffs out a bitter laugh. "Ok what are you? Do you just carry those around with you?" he says before burying his face in it, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment. Great first impression he's making.
"Well you never know when someone might end up spilling hot sauce all over you or when you'll have to pick up something particularly nasty off the ground."
Kurt cracks up, even as there are still tears running down his cheeks. "And you're letting me wipe my face with it?!"
"I washed it this morning." Blaine says with a grin. "You're very welcome."
Kurt chuckles out loud again. His tears are drying up, and he blows his nose in the handkerchief, averting his eyes. "Do I…?" he motions his hand toward Blaine. He's not sure what the etiquette is when it comes to returning snot filled handkerchiefs back to their owners.
"Maybe you should keep that." Blaine says, scrunching his nose a little bit and Kurt thinks it might be the most unintentionally adorable expression he's ever seen.
"Yeah, that's probably best." How can this impossible boy make him break down one minute and then have him giggling the next?
"You're not alone, you know. And things will change. High school isn't forever." Blaine's saying next.
"You really are a walking, talking It Gets Better Project, aren't you?"
Blaine hangs his head, flustered. "I guess I walked right into that."
Kurt lets himself enjoy this moment. He probably won't talk to Blaine again, and the realization stings a bit, but at least there's this. It's more than he ever expected from the boy.
And then Blaine has to go with a game changer, again, and make Kurt's heart start beating overtime. "Well, at least you have me now."
"You?"
"Obviously."
Just as Kurt's about to protest, he hears Blaine's named being called. The Warblers are on their way out, and that Sebastian person- he knows he shouldn't hate him, he knows- is gesturing for Blaine to follow before walking out the door.
"That's my ride."
Kurt nods. He wills himself not to be disappointed. Words are nice, and striking up a conversation with some sad looking stranger in a café might have been interesting for Blaine, but he knows the reality is very different.
And the Blaine is grabbing one of Kurt's notebooks and asking for a pen. He scribbles something down and hands it back.
Kurt stares bewildered at the page. It's a phone number followed by "Blaine Anderson", written in a neat scrawl.
"Won't you not-really-boyfriend mind you giving your phone to strange men?"
"Nah." Blaine shrugs. "He'll live. Look, I'll be out of town for the holidays, but call me. We don't have to talk; we can just… hang out. Go ice skating or something."
"Ok…" Kurt says, putting the notebook in his satchel. He's still not sure if Blaine means it, but still. It's a nice gesture.
"Don't you dare not call me, Kurt Hummel." He says, as if he just read Kurt's thoughts. "I gave you my handkerchief, I expect gentlemanly behavior."
Kurt chuckles an ok, as Blaine's putting his scarf back on and standing up.
"Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Blaine."
He watches him leave, with a final nod and a smile. The door chimes behind him, and Kurt looks out the window again, thinking that maybe, just maybe, things are finally starting to look up.
A/N: I didn't take into consideration the deleted scene of S1 where Kurt is shown to be part of Sandy's stool choir, exactly because it is deleted.
Thanks for reading and/or reviewing ;)