Prologue: My Name Is

WARNINGS: This fic will include mentions of underage drinking, drugs, and smoking. It may contain mentions of past self-harm and thoughts of suicide. There will be mild violence, minor coarse language, and some MxM, MxG and GxG sensuality. IF THERE ARE TRIGGERS IN A CHAPTER, I WILL WARN YOU AT THE START OF THE CHAPTER.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing Glee related. Maybe someday… Any resemblance to real-life people or events or to another fic is completely coincidental and not my intention.

(A/N: This is my first fanfiction. I'm just warning you now. At times, especially in the beginning, this may seem a little like a Blaine/Quinn pairing. It's not, though. The pairings in this fic will be strictly Klaine and Quick, with hints of Niff, Wevid (Romance or Bromance yet to be determined) and some Brittana. This is a fairly AU story, and I will introduce a few OC's with little relevance to the story. Thanks for giving me a chance. I lessthanthree you all . Without further ado, here is Remember This Summer.)

Prologue: My Name Is

It was hot. The air on the bus to New York City was stifling, but there was no place Blaine would rather be. He certainly didn't want to be at home, with his prying, concerned friends, however much they really did mean to him… or with his mentally unstable mother, and his ass of a father. But, then again, he supposed that even there was better than the military school his father wanted to send him to this fall. Everyone expected something of Blaine. His friends expected a leader, an artist, a genius. His insane mother expected his care since he was twelve, a time when she should take care of him, not the other way around. Then there was his father. He expected nothing less than the Anderson perfection: A military genius with a successful law firm and the 'perfect image' to boot. Blaine shuddered at the thought of his father. How could he even consider military school? War was wrong; the control that America held over the rest of the world an unnecessary abuse of power. And why should they even care where he went to school? Blaine knew he was going to die young. He had HIV, he couldn't fight it for long, could he? But his father insisted, it didn't matter that Blaine was sick, it only mattered how he acted for his father's image. And what did that say about his father's love for him? It didn't exist. But no one else knew. No one knew that he was going to die before he even had a chance to live. Blaine hummed tunelessly as he ran his mind through the same old tracks of the past month, and glanced about, hoping that he hadn't disturbed anyone nearby. Nope. No one even looked up. He sighed and shifted in his seat to gaze at the land passing outside his window. It seemed the trees, towns, and fields stretched on seamlessly and forever, unchanging under the hot June sun.

So he was surprised to say the least when he felt a weight land softly on the seat next to him. He reluctantly tore his eyes from the window and turned to examine his new companion. She was looking straight at him, her eyes a disconcerting shade of green, wise and soft and alive. He fidgeted slightly. What should he say? She was the one that wanted to talk to him, right? That had to be why she sat down. Perhaps. Or… not. Maybe he should say hello, or introduce himself. He felt so rude, just sitting there- should he shake her hand? Or just-

"My name is Quinn Fabray," the girl, Quinn, said, her low, soothing voice gently cutting through his frazzled thoughts. "My friends and I thought you looked lonely, so… here I am." It was almost funny, it seemed like she was sincerely interested in his welfare. This was new, especially since usually the only reason people made any effort to talk to him was for their own benefit, to get an 'in' with the great General Anderson.

"I'm Blaine," he replied a slight smile threatening to make an appearance. He kept a straight face with some effort. He couldn't be too careful, even if not everyone was like the stuck-up citizens of Westerville. This Quinn was a pretty girl. Slender, with a heart-shaped face, rosebud lips and high cheekbones. Her shimmering blond hair was cut in soft layers that fell just to her collarbone, straight and fine. She reminded him of the pixies that his mother had so adored, before the madness… no, he couldn't think about that right now. "Who are your friends? I saw you when you got on the bus, the same stop as me."

"Oh, I came with those two," she said, waving her hand carelessly towards the back of the bus. A boy with slightly spikey blond hair and a darker toned girl waved back, the boy grinning, the girl's expression unreadable. "The boy is Jeff and the girl is Santana. They're pretty cool."

"How do you know them? You all look about my age," Blaine asked curiously. Something about the blond boy looked familiar.

"Well, Santana and I grew up together," Quinn said simply "and we sort of collected Jeff when he transferred to Lima out of Dalton Academy three years ago ."

"Wait," Blaine said. "Is Jeff's last name Sterling? "

"Yeah," Quinn replied warily. "How did you know that?"

"I used to go to school with him," Blaine replied quietly. "He was in my year. I- Nick- we all thought we'd never see him again."

"Oh," Quinn said, her face softening, "You're that Blaine, aren't you? Blaine Anderson…" her voice trailed off. "Jeff has told us so much about you." Her voice was almost pitying now.

"I don't want your pity," Blaine snapped.

"Of course," Quinn murmured. "We all have issues, but we trust each other. I guess we all just want to make a difference."

"Yeah. I get it," Blaine muttered. He definitely understood issues.

"So, why are you here then? Just a rebel phase, or are you a pacifist, or maybe just wanted to escape from home-"

That struck a nerve in Blaine. "I'd rather not talk about it," he hissed icily, through clenched teeth. "It's personal." Who was this girl, thinking she could know everything about his life?

"Well, it's alright then," Quinn seemed unphased by his change in demeanor from the boy introduced herself to the prickly young man she know sat with. "Okay. Anyway, we're here."

"What?" Blaine turned to the window, staring in disbelief as they rapidly approached the city. Suddenly, everything seemed much more real. "I thought we had more time left," he said, continuing to stare out the window, but not really seeing anything at all. They sat in tense silence for a minute.

"You should get off the bus with us," Quinn said suddenly. "You shouldn't be alone."

He stared at her, hesitating. She looked at him expectantly as the bus slid to a stop. The speaker crackled loudly overhead, but the words were unintelligible. He had to say something, just, what? If he said no, he would push away his only friend, and probably never have a chance to talk to Jeff. But if he said yes, who knew what he would be getting himself into?

"Ok," Blaine heard himself say as if from far away, his mouth moving on its own. No! His mind screamed. I came here to be alone! But there was nothing he could do now. The words had been spoken, the decision was made. He was getting of this bus with Quinn and Jeff and Santana whether he liked it or not.