Pixie Sticks

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.

Warning: Implied self-harm and character death. Told in first person POV.

A/N: Read and enjoy. As always reviews are love.

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All gone.

It's so unfair that my dreams came tumbling down just because I couldn't convince enough people that pixie sticks aren't real.

God…

I don't blame people though, they would believe a giggly hot blond cheerleader over me anytime…

Me.

This is entirely my fault.

Why couldn't anything good or right ever happen to me when I need it? I'm just trying to be myself. Is that so bad? Is it because I'm not good enough?

Maybe I'm not good enough… not good enough for my classmates, not good enough for my dad, not good enough for Ohio, for NYADA… not good enough for… Blaine?

Blaine. Oh god. What does he think of me now? He supported me all the way, he braved the hostile corridors campaigning for me, he gave me pep talks and motivational speeches… yet, I let him down.

Why couldn't have I just disappeared that moment in Figgins' office when he had but blatantly accused me of rigging up the senior class president elections? I just couldn't look anyone right in the eye after that. I thought things would change for the better if and when I win… to think that for even just a second there I thought I would win; that it would be possible for me, Kurt Hummel, to earn the much needed respect and adoration I knew I had deserved from people around me.

Now, I'm back to square one. The taunts, the jeers, the bullying, the preconceived notions… all back. Now I'm not just the gay kid. I'm now the gay kid who lost to the pixie sticks. I can't stand it anymore.

Before today, I had something to live for, to look forward to when I leave this hell-hole; I had Blaine, my dad's congressional win, I had NYADA with Rachel –a whole life ahead of me.

Now I have nothing left. I looked at all those eyes staring at me, I knew how hard they were trying to hide how disappointed they were of me.

I can't blame them.

I'm disappointed at myself too.

I congratulated Brittany in public. It seemed the right thing to do. But deep in me, I have no heart to do such thing. I can't honestly be happy for anyone, especially her, right now.

Blaine keeps trying to distract me. He is a wonderful boyfriend; but right now I can't bear to see him. He just painfully reminds me of how perfect he was and how I'm so not right for him. Maybe Sebastian was right. Blaine could do better without me.

My dad –I can't even talk to him right now. I know he says he believes me but I see the doubt in his eyes… a cheating son would not do any good on his public image. If I'm not around, he, Finn and Carol would be the perfect congressional family from Lima, Ohio.

Rachel keeps throwing me these odd looks. So does Finn. I know why Rachel does it though –she feels sorry for me. She got the lead she wanted and I didn't. She backed out of the presidential race and saved herself from public humiliation. She will go to NYADA and I won't.

Finn… I love him like a brother but he's too much of a lap dog. He does whatever his girlfriend asks him to do. It's like they're playing a perpetual game of 'Simon says'.

Cedes, Tina, Artie, Mike… all my friends from Glee… They act like they don't care if I won or not, if I cheated or not. But that's just that, an act. Even Mr. Schue, I have disappointed him. And just like the rest of them, he pretends as if it never happened.

But it did. It damn well did. I screwed up. There's no turning back now.

After my well thought of congratulatory speech for Brittany, I asked for permission to go to the bathroom from Mr. Schue. I took a detour and met Rachel along the way. She just came from the direction of Figgins' office and she seemed upset. Her eyes widened when she saw me. I halted when she stepped in front of me, blocking my way. 'We need to talk, Kurt,' she said. I shook my head and told her that I was headed for the boy's room. She sighed, 'Maybe later then?' she asked. I nodded my head stiffly as she ran off towards Glee practice. There would be no 'later' Rachel. It… all of it ends now.

I entered the boy's room which was thankfully empty as all the club meetings were still ongoing. I sighed as I opened the door to the last stall. I rested my bag on the closed toilet seat cover, entered, and then locked the door shut. I couldn't help but smile.

The great Kurt Hummel spent his last few moments in a public school restroom cubicle. A fitting end.

I knelt down on the tiled floor and opened my bag. I took out something small that fit right in my hand.

My dad's gun.

I had sneaked home earlier that day during lunch. It was just in an unlocked drawer, easy-A. I had thought of finding a less messy way to go; after all, I don't want to be caught unpolished even in my death. But I had decided that this way would be the quickest.

I poised the gun right at my head, my hands shaking terribly, as I've seen them do it in those bad crime TV movies. Maybe I'd be lucky enough to not even feel a thing. All sorts of thoughts rushed through my head; faces, friendly faces. I shook my head. I needed to stop thinking.

I didn't leave a note. If I did, I'll just talk myself out of it.

With one last look at the gray walls surrounding me, I sighed and closed my eyes.

A single shot rang and echoed from a distance.

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A/N: What do you think? This is just a one-shot and I currently don't have plans for a sequel, unless there is reader demand for it. Tell me in a review if you want this AU continued. In the mean time, I do have a companion piece written for this called Broken Dreams. It's almost the same time frame of events but told in Rachel's POV. Please check it out as well as well as all my other stories, Visit my profile page for the complete list. Broken Dreams will be up in a short while by the way. Again, review! Review! Review! – Eastwoodgirl

A/N: (01/02/12) still hasn't fixed the problem I'm having regarding hits and views statistics so I'm unable to determine reader traffic for this and my other stories. Anyway, based on reader responses in reviews I'm getting, I think there is enough interest for a sequel. On that note, there is now an ongoing poll on my profile page. Please take time to vote to get you desired outcome for the upcoming sequel. You can also put in your suggestions in a review.

A/N 2: By the way, I have written another companion piece to this story, it's called Lost Connection and will be up in a few minutes. This tackles the same time frame of events but is in Blaine's POV. Please feel free to read and review it! Thanks for your support. Love, Eastwoodgirl.