"I want my senior year to be magic."

Those were the words that Kurt Hummel told his boyfriend the beginning of the year. His whole life he had been struggling to keep his head high and pretend that none of the atrocious, homophobic comments bothered him. That none of the dumpster dives or shoves against the lockers were a big deal. The secret was, they were. Kurt hated, no, he loathed being picked on so much just because of his sexual orientation.

He only hoped that this year would be different.

It seemed to have been going pretty well at first. Blaine transferred to McKinley, both Kurt and Rachel had made plans to get into NYADA, and the Glee Club seemed set to win Nationals. All-in-all, Kurt's senior year seemed that it was going to be the first that he would truly enjoy. Though, life seemed to have another plan for him.

Kurt was at his locker, getting his stuff out for first period. He was just doing his morning routine; Put all homework for afternoon classes on the bottom shelf along with his books, pulled out note and text books, check cellphone, check reflection, and fix any errors that he had. Today, it seemed that his collar was a bit bent in the corner. With a frustrated huff, the boy fixed the slight flaw on his outfit.

"You know that no matter what you do to your outfit, you'll still look dashing."

Kurt heard the familiar voice from behind the locker door. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he shut the metal door. His boyfriend Blaine Anderson stood right in front of him, leaning against the other locker next to his own, a cheesy grin plastered on his face. "Well, I have to look perfect, it's my job to make sure there is something decent walking down these halls," Kurt explained, half-jokingly.

Blaine scoffed, pushing himself off the locker. "Decent? Now you are just being way too modest."

Kurt couldn't help but smile. Blaine spoiled him and it wasn't like he didn't like it. "Well, not everyone appreciates the effort I put into my outfits as much as you do, so to them, I just look decent." Kurt shrugged at his words. He really did not care what anyone else's opinion was of him, he just knew that he was better than them and kept that in mind.

Blaine shook his head. "Well, they're idiots and don't appreciate you enough." Kurt smiled softly. "Alright, if we continue chatting, we're going to be late to class," Blaine reminded Kurt, he placed his hand on his back and led him to class.

Gym was Kurt's second period class. He wasn't too fond of the class. Mostly because he was stuck in a class full of homophobic morons. Luckily, Kurt was able to keep to himself and ignore the horrid comments and names that were thrown at him.

He got out of the stall, fully dressed, ready to leave the class. "Hey, cock-slut." Kurt was about to stop, just so he could see who in the right mind would even call him by such a derogatory name, but he just continued walking. "Hey, I'm talking to you!" The voice sounded quite annoyed, not that Kurt cared. Kurt simply rolled his eyes, not even giving him the neanderthal the joy in knowing that he was getting under his skin. "Listen fag!"

Kurt felt himself shoved to the side, right before he was leaving the locker room. Kurt was infuriated, how dare he lay a hand on him? "Excuse you!?" Kurt turned to face the unknown boy. He had black hair, spiked up with water, his eyes were icey blue, chilling even, his chin and upper lip seemed to have a bit of scruff still. His jaw was set with obvious anger as he he stared Kurt down.

The anger on his face seemed to fade into a cocky grin. "What? Don't like getting roughed up?" The guy asked, shoving Kurt again. Kurt caught himself, his feet planted on the ground.

"Don't touch me," Kurt demanded, glaring at the stranger. "I don't know who you think you are, but stay away from me. I don't need some ignoramus like you waltzing into my life." Kurt was about to turn around, when he was stopped, the boy's hand was firmly on his shoulder. "What the hell?"

When Kurt looked back at the boy, he couldn't help but feel a bit weary. Their eyes locked and if looks could kill, well, Blaine would have been considered a widow. "You just painted a target on your back, Princess." With that, Kurt was shoved once more and the other boy left the locker room.

A chill ran down Kurt's spine. He didn't know why, but he felt that was not the last time he'd have to deal with him.