A/N (1): So this might actually be the first multi-chapter fic I've ever written. I don't know when or if I'll be updating anytime soon, but let's just see where this goes. So reviews are completely welcome. I really want to know what you guys think, and feedback would seriously mean a lot to me.

A/N (2): Well, first of all. This whole thing was based on my Glee RP. And as you know, I play Jeff. I actually wrote this chapter for my RP. I just felt like posting it here...and maybe even continuing it. Maybe...who knows? But I will most certainly try to write up a follow-up chapter to this. The next chapter won't be up in a long time, so be patient.

To put it lightly, Jeff was terrified. He was starting to second guess himself, already regretting his decision. He knew he couldn't do it, but he had to. He needed to. For Nick. Jeff stood shaking at the front door of the Duval household. He came here alone, but now all Jeff could think of was that this was a terrible idea. Jeff fought the urge to turn around, walk to his car, and drive back to Dalton, but there was no turning back now. He was here. And, oh shit, he just rang the doorbell. Jeff tried to stop himself from shaking, but it was no use. He couldn't control his nerves, and his anxiety was slowly creeping in. The door swung open, revealing a brunette woman, staring at him with hard, stern eyes.

"Hi, Mrs. Duval,'' Jeff said meekly.

"Jeff," Mrs. Duval answered back stiffly.

Jeff already met her once before, but from that one meeting and all the times Nick has talked about her, he knew what kind of woman she was. The blonde was completely nervous because, hey, the Duvals were some strict people. One false move could lead to a disaster. Jeff could feel his confidence level slowly rising, but he knew it would never reach its peak.

"Can I come in?"

"Nick's not here."

"I know. He's back at Da—"

"Why are you here?'

"Umm…About that…T-that's why I'm here…and…and Nick's not. I need to…talk to you a-about…him."

Mrs. Duval left the doorway, Jeff following instinctively. She left to go fetch her husband from his study. Jeff stood awkwardly in the foyer, feeling so out of place, like he didn't belong. He waited and waited until Mrs. Duval came bounding back with Mr. Duval in tow. She gestured Jeff to follow them to the living room.

"Jeff, you said you wanted to talk about Nick? Is everything okay?" Mrs. Duval asked.

Jeff fought the urge to scoff and roll his eyes when Mrs. Duval just said that. Like Nick's parents actually wanted to know if their son was alright. Mr. Duval just sat there, staring at Jeff, with his arms crossed over his chest. It was rather unnerving, to say the least. Jeff quickly looked away, keeping his eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him. He didn't know what to say. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, the words would immediately die out, be left unsaid.

"Just spit it out, boy!" Mr. Duval said with his gruff voice.

Jeff flinched a bit, but he finally knew what he was going to say. When he was able to pronounce coherent words, the dam was broken. Words just kept flowing out his mouth like word-vomit, not giving any chance for either of the Duvals to interrupt or answer.

"What is your problem with Nick? You don't even act like you care anymore, but from what I've heard from Nick, you never did care, did you? What do you want from him? Because I'm damn sure he's trying his hardest to get your attention." With every word that left his mouth, Jeff's anger was gradually rising.

"And now what's all about this straight camp you're forcing Nick, your son, to go to? A camp won't get the gay out of him. That's bullshit." By then, Jeff was on his feet, not really caring about their reaction when he released the "inappropriate language."

"And you know what, I'm bisexual. Meaning I like both girls and boys. What's wrong with liking boys? There's nothing wrong! That's what's fucking messed up in this world. Homophobes like you should no—"

That's when Mr. Duval snapped, shoving Jeff to the wall, keeping a strong hold on the boy's shoulders. Jeff didn't seem fazed by any of it. The pain shooting up his arms, the bruises that were probably starting to form the menacing look in the older man's eyes, the glares from the two pairs of eyes in front of him. Jeff glared back, holding their gazes, ready to let go the last of his ammunition.

"And," A smirk formed on his lips, "Nick's my boyfriend, and I love him. You're just one of the reasons why his life is so fucked up. Why can't you just let him be happy for once? Sending him to a fucking straight camp won't solve a damn thing. He hates you. Everything you do crushed him even more. He deserves better. A better family. Better parents. A better life. I could give that to him, but you can't. Nick's the love of my life. Nick likes boys. You can't do anything about it. You can't control his life. This is the path he chose. He doesn't need to listen to you anymore."

The grip on his shoulders loosened, but Jeff didn't expect what would happen next. Everything happened so fast. A hand was raised. A hand came down. And all Jeff could feel was the throbbing in his left cheek. Jeff was shocked, but it was soon was replaced with fear, his resolve slowly falling apart. The adrenaline rush gone. Jeff cowered back, the feeling of fright slowly creeping in. He stared at Nick's father with wide eyes. Memories reeled in his mind like a film strip. He squeezed his eyes, hoping for the worst. When nothing else happened, Jeff cautiously opened his eyes to meet the ones of Mr. Duval. Traces of disgust and anger were buried deep in his eyes. The pressure on his shoulders was back. Mr. Duval practically dragged the boy through the hallway. He hastily unlocked the door, and with all his strength, pushed the blonde boy out of the house. And before he knew it, Jeff was on the ground, catching a glimpse of the frowning face of Mrs. Duval right before she closed the door.

It was dark when Jeff finally had the strength to get up. He didn't want to drive back to Dalton, but that was the only place he could go. His hands kept a steady grip on the steering wheel, but his knuckles were slowly turning white. He knew he couldn't drive feeling like this. Jeff pulled over. There weren't any cars on the freeway anyway. That's when Jeff let the tears fall.