Prologue
Kurt Hummel was 15 years old when his dad sent him to Camp Sing Along in Columbus, Ohio. He couldn't have been happier than the minute he was allowed to go. People in Lima just didn't understand him; he was too different for their taste, it seemed.
Three years ago, Kurt remembered, he and some of his friends had gone out to a girl-boy party-his first one, actually-and all the guys had just started to notice all of the girls... except for Kurt. He was the only one who hadn't been staring and drooling like an idiot.
He hadn't understood why at the time, being barely twelve, but Kurt didn't like checking out the girls with all of his friends. In fact, he found the boys far more attractive, what with some of them already starting to hit puberty and all that.
"Hey, Kurt, look at Santana Lopez," Noah Puckerman had said to him. "She's hot, huh?" He and the rest of the boys had chuckled stupidly.
Kurt had looked up from a Vogue magazine he'd picked up and taken a quick glance at Santana. She was kind of pretty, but that was it. He'd raised his magazine back up and scrolled down the paragraphs. "No thanks," he'd said as he turned the page.
Now he was fifteen, Kurt thought excitedly. This camp would be good for him. Especially since he had realized he did like boys, and not the way you liked a friend or a sibling. He was gay.
Throughout the summer, Camp Sing Along was the most fun he'd ever had, and tonight was the final night before everyone returned home. So the camp decided that all the campers would spend the last night together; no one opposed the idea.
Kurt sat down at a table with two girls he knew from his school, Mercedes Jones and Rachel Berry. Today, the camp leaders had announced they'd be having open mic night as a way to make people remember who you were. Music was one of the most powerful forces in the world, they'd told the campers when the summer began. It went with you wherever you were, regardless of where that was. As long as you had music, you would never be truly alone.
"Hello, campers! And welcome to Camp Sing Along's first official Open Mic Night!" One of the counselors announced through the microphone, emanating a deafening cheering from the crowd. "Our first performer of the night is newcomer Blaine Anderson, and he's going to sing-" The counselor paused, looking over at the boy the campers couldn't see just yet.
He leaned down to the side of the stage, where (they guessed) the unseen boy was talking to him. The counselor stood up and looked back at the campers, shock crossing his features. "-an original song!" he said once he'd recovered. "He'll be singing an original song tonight. Give it up for Blaine Anderson!"
Slowly the boy climbed onstage, under the spotlights directed at the center, and Kurt's breath caught. This boy was... he was absolutely gorgeous, more beautiful than any other boy Kurt had seen..
"H-hi," he laughed nervously into the microphone. The crowd laughed slightly in response. "My name is Blaine Anderson, and this is a song I wrote called Human. I hope you like it."
He grabbed a guitar one of the counselors handed him, which was obviously (given the small BA letters written with Sharpie at the hold) his, and began to play.
I feel like a loser
I feel like I'm lost
I feel like I'm not so sure if I feel anything at all
Kurt had the strange sudden urge to hold this boy between his arms, as some sort of reassurance. But reassurance of what?
But believe me, I'm not helpless I just
Need someone to love
So my situation's rough
But that just makes me a dumb human
Like you
He smiled to himself and looked down at his shoes, probably embarrassed, Kurt figured, since his shoes were not that big of a deal.
I feel like a shortstop
Along third base
I may just help you but I still don't like your face
Kurt couldn't help but feel like the boy had hit very close to home. He'd helped a lot of people, even people he couldn't for the life of him stand, just to feel like he belonged. Which had turned out to not work at all.
But believe me, I'm not hostile I just
Want to hear you laugh
When I'm sarcastic like that
But that just makes me a dumb human
Like you
Why
Do I have this incredible need to stand up
And say "Please, pay attention?"
Kurt closed his eyes before blinking rapidly three times. He wasn't going to cry on his last night at Camp Sing Along, no matter how cool and awesome the people around him were. No tears, Kurt, no tears tonight.
It's the last thing that I need
To make myself seen
Well, that ain't my intention
No
I feel like an artist
Who's lost his touch
He likes himself in his art, but not his art too much
Pretty much like Kurt. He was proud of who he was, of what he was... but not exactly of what he did as a way to show that pride.
But believe me, I've got something
I just don't know how to say
That I'm just fine with the way
With the way that I'm moving
But that just makes me a dumb human
That just makes me
That makes me a human like
You
As soon as he finished the entire hall was on their feet, clapping and cheering for him. Blaine nodded and murmured thousands of "Thank yous" under his breath. Kurt stared at the him, hoping he wouldn't be caught, but suddenly Blaine looked back at him.
In that moment, right when their gazes locked, Kurt knew he had to talk to him.
Later that night, Kurt saw Blaine sitting alone away from the cabins with a bonfire of his own. Everyone was supposed to be at the one on the other side of the campsite for a final sing-along, but Kurt hadn't wanted to be there. He didn't want to feel like he was leaving his new friends. He walked up behind Blaine despite his nervousness and smiled.
"Hey," Kurt said, but he kind of regretted it when he saw how sad the boy looked.
"H-hey," Blaine said as he looked at the fire.
"Why aren't you at the bonfire? It's our last night here, you know," Kurt mumbled.
"As a matter of fact, you're not there, either," Blaine pointed out, a shy smile on his lips.
"That's true." Kurt nodded.
"Who are you, anyway?" Blaine said finally looking up.
"I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel." He smiled proudly. "Future Broadway star, actually."
"Oh. Well, I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson, future singer slash songwriter."
"I know," Kurt's smile brightened up. "I mean, I sort of figured. Seeing you perform earlier... your song is amazing."
Blaine smiled, but it still appeared sad and somewhat forced, reminding Kurt of why he'd come here for. "When I walked over, I couldn't help but notice you were a little down. I don't mean to pry, but, are you okay?"
"Yes," Blaine answered, though he didn't sound so sure. "It's just… yes." He didn't meet Kurt's eyes, and he was possibly hoping for a change in the topic of their conversation.
"Okay," Kurt said, looking away too. "I can tell you're not used to having people ask that, so would it help the situation if I told you something about me no one here knows except for two of my friends from back home? Then would you tell me?"
Kurt felt like swallowing back his words. He didn't even know this guy and he was willing to just spill out his greatest, most treasured secret like that?
But then Blaine took a deep breath, thinking about it for a minute. At last, he said, "Yeah. Yeah, that might help."
Kurt breathed deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, wincing slightly. He was afraid Blaine would treat him like the people back at his school did, but he needed Blaine to trust him so badly for some weird, cosmic reason...
"I-I don't like girls..." he began, "not... not like I'm supposed to. I like boys instead. I-I'm… gay." He bit his lip hard, stopping himself from stuttering like a fool.
Blaine looked up, his eyes widening. "You too?"
"Wait, you mean…?"
"Yeah," Blaine nodded as he closed his eyes. "That's why I looked down before you came. I had just gotten off the phone with my mom." He went silent for a second. "She and my dad are getting divorced. I came out to them right before I came here. My dad, he…" Another pause, one in which he ran the back of his hand against his eyes. "He wasn't very accepting. My mom, on the other hand, was. She called me earlier to tell me that they're divorcing," Blaine finished as a few tears slipped down his face. "Divorcing! My parents, who have been together since way before I was born, divorcing! This is all my fault!"
Kurt frowned, scooting closer to him and putting a comforting hand on his back, rubbing it slightly in soothing circles.
"It's going to be okay. I promise."
Even though he really couldn't promise anything would be okay.
They stayed like that most of the night, though they would occasionally speak, asking each other how camp had been for them and promising to stay in touch, especially because-since Kurt had come and talked to him-they'd realized they could get to be pretty close friends. But they both knew that wasn't going to happen. Things change. People change.
Their promises of calling each other at least once a week vanished into nothingness. Kurt Hummel finished high school and left for New York City without ever hearing of one Blaine Anderson again.