Hey guys! Thanks so much for checking out my (first ever) fanfic, and I hope you'll enjoy it! This is just the first chapter, and it is based around Blaine's life before and during his time at Dalton. Don't worry, there will be some Klaine soon! Please feel free to comment, or rate, or review, or whatever it is you do on this website! :)
But yes, I know it's not perfect but I will definitely be adding (rather a lot) more so I hope you come back for more!
Thank you, and I know it's not perfect, but at least i tried!
Love and butterfly kisses,

JA Rivera

P.S. I do not own Glee or anything, this is purely a piece of my imagination put into words, based on the characters from the show!

Blaine

The front door slammed shut. Mrs. Anderson looked up from the test papers she was marking to see her son march quickly up the stairs to his room, and it seemed as though he was all but trying not to cry. Sighing, she abandoned her work and followed him, wondering what could be the cause of all the trouble this time. She knocked on his door, waited momentarily, then gingerly turned the doorknob and entered. Blaine was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face contorted into an expression of full determination, aggressively strumming on his guitar.

"Did the bullies come at you again?" his mother asked carefully. As she sat down beside him, she acknowledged the fact that he was playing music as an attempt to block out the rest of the world, as he often did. Blaine just turned away slightly and continued to play.

'Blaine, you can't let them break you. They're just jealous, jealous because you are such a talented person, and they feel threatened by that. They are the cause of the problem, not you.'

She looked up at him, but it was a gaze he did not return. He ended the song abruptly, and without warning, his shoulders began to violently shake, his face crumbling as tears silently poured down his flushed cheeks. Shocked by this sudden outburst and loss of composure, Mrs. Anderson tried to put her arm around his shoulders in a comforting gesture, to which he hastily pulled away.

'Blaine, honey, what did they do to you?'

A growing concern was becoming evident in her tone as she glanced at her son, searching for any tell-tale marks or bruises. Upon finding none, she said, in a desperate voice that was barely louder than a whisper, 'Please tell me what's going on. I want to help you, and being as closed off as you have been in the past several months, I feel as though we've lost a connection. Listen, darling, honey... I don't know why, of all people, they chose to pick on you, but-'

'They pick on me because I'm GAY!' he cut in sharply, all but shouting.

Okay, this was definitely not the way he had planned to come out, but now that he had, he felt as though his world had become a little bit brighter. The weight had been lifted from his shoulders – well, some of it, anyway. An awkward yet tense silence followed, his mother's face void of any emotion. Oh my god, she thought frantically, blood pounding heavily in her ears. After all these years… He… I… She stared speechlessly, searching him for a sign that he hadn't really meant what he'd just said. She found nothing. Blaine took a deep breath, his heart beating at a faster pace than one of his favourite pop songs, and looked directly into his mother's eyes. As though sensing what she was looking for, he slowly shook his head, his eyes red and bloodshot from the tears but his expression remained very serious.

"I'm really sorry, Mom, but it's true, and I should have told you before now, it was just - I was so scared. It's bad enough being out of the closet at school and having to take crap from the other kids every day, but I wouldn't have been able to stand it if you guys did the same. I didn't want you to hate me, or kick me out… And I can already see that you are looking at me as though I'm a completely different person, a stranger…' He broke off, his voice choking as he finally averted his mother's stare.

"No, no… I don't, honey, you're still... you're still my son…' but even she was half-hearted about the words she was saying. Truth be told, she did see her son differently now, and it was rather pointless in trying to convince herself otherwise. A new thought arose in her mind.

"But what about… Tanya?"

"What about her?"

She laughed, almost skeptically.

"You guys were… You had sex with her!"

The accusation was so blunt, so straightforward, that even through all the hurt, the shame, and the confusion, Blaine was slightly taken aback. He'd never before seen his mother be so bold about such a taboo subject.

"Um… not exactly... I'd just hinted at that to conceal the truth from you guys, especially Dad."

That's right… she thought. She'd been so caught up by Blaine's confession that she hadn't given thought to how Mr. Anderson would handle the news. She thought about her husband's utter disapproval of homosexuality, and grimaced as fresh concerns surfaced in her mind.

"How – how long have you been like, you know... like this?"

"About a year… A year and a half." He sounded so sure of himself, she knew it would be useless to try and convince him otherwise.

"You know your father must be told, yes?"

Blaine screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists and jaw, dread rapidly seeping into him. His mother recognized his pained expression, and felt stressed on his behalf.

"I'll tell him, okay, honey? I'll break it gently, don't worry, and I'll do my best to help. I'm sure he'll understand and accept you for who you are…" She trailed off, and Blaine could sense the doubt in her voice, but it was a kind enough thought all the same. He remained sitting stiffly as his mother planted a rather awkward kiss on the crown of his head. She smiled, almost nervously, and closed the door behind her as she left. Now that Blaine was alone, an overwhelming wave of emotions washed over him, draining his energy. Since there was nothing left to do but wait in dread for his father to return from work, he lay back onto his duvet, not even bothering to remove his shoes or change out of his school uniform as he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

After what seemed like minutes, there was a fierce rasp of knuckles at Blaine's door. Slightly dazed, Blaine opened his eyes and saw that the sun was beginning to set, and the room was filled with a warm red glow. Not immediately remembering the talk he had had with his mother just hours before, he opened the door to find his father, in a rather ruffled suit, glaring down at him, his ears and neck red, his eyes wide in a mixture of disbelief and anger, and the veins in his temples throbbing prominently. He could see that his mother stood behind him, her slight build almost completely blocked out by his father's rather bulky body. Her face looked desperately worried. Just as Blaine opened his mouth to speak, Mr. Anderson's palm smacked into his cheek; Blaine stumbled in shock to the floor. He could taste the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, and a dawning of realization came over him as he realised why his dad was acting like this.

He stared at his mother; she had taken no time in informing his father. He slowly pulled himself back onto his feet, not daring to look at either of them. A sudden fist to the face threw Blaine's head back, and a warm gush of blood dripped from his nose and onto his blazer. Pain seared through Blaine's head. His mother whimpered quietly in the background, but didn't dare to try stop her husband's aggression.

"So," Mr. Anderson sneered menacingly. "I've just heard some - interesting... news. But you know what, kid? NO SON OF MINE IS GAY. You're either not my son, or straight. YOU – ARE – NOT – A - GOD - DAMN - FUCKING - HOMOSEXUAL! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, BOY?" His voice was probably loud enough to be heard on the neighboring street.

He grabbed a fistful of Blaine's uniform and thrust him roughly against the bedroom wall, causing several books from the shelf nearby to fall. He was almost nose to nose with his son, and his hot breath blew into Blaine's face. It smelled of liquor.

"Do you understand me, boy?" He whispered, as if daring him tosay otherwise. Blaine nodded meekly, not wanting to protest in the midst of his father's rage. A satisfied smirk crossed Mr. Anderson's lips, and he moved away, still keeping his gaze on Blaine's terrified face. He went back out into the hallway, and called out to Blaine. "Hey, you know what, kid? I don't care what you say. I know now what filth you've become, and you and your crap are no longer welcomed here. I don't want you – and your shit - in MY HOUSE!"

At that, he walked down the hall towards his room triumphantly. Blaine slumped, in a flurry of emotions, into his computer chair. He glanced at his mother who was still standing at the doorway, and she gave him a hopeless look. He turned away, not wanting to feel anything anymore. She left, and he suddenly noticed his cell phone flashing on his desk. Not bothering to wipe the blood from his face, he grabbed it and saw that he had received a new text.

Hey Blaine, I saw you walk out of school in a hurry. What's wrong? Did Julian and the other idiots get to you again? Ignore them, Blaine, you have me, and that's all you need. You're not alone, honey, I'll always be here for you. I love you.

And remember, Blaine, courage!

Damian xx

He read it twice over, his heart warming, but only slightly. Damian… what was he going to tell him? He knew that he should have stood up to his dad, but just thinking about the consequences made him wince. Not knowing quite how to reply, Blaine left his phone on his desk and went quietly down the hall and into the bathroom. He turned the tap on, and splashed the warm water onto his face. The water flowing into the sink began to turn red as the blood washed away from his nose.

Later that evening, once he'd done his homework in his room to avoid having another confrontation with his dad, he took off his bloodied school garments and slipped on a grey shirt and stripy blue flannel pajama trousers. Once he was sure Mr. Anderson was safely in his study, he gathered his uniform and hauled it noiselessly to the loo. He began to shove his uniform under the running tap when he glanced up at the mirror to see his mother opening the door and cautiously coming in.

"Blaine, darling…" she was barely audible. "Um... You won't – you won't be needing those anymore."

He glanced down at his now sodden blazer and white button-down.

"I'm sorry, but… When your father mentioned not wanting you here anymore – he was being serious. But, as a way of helping you, I've had a rather long and serious chat with him, and I've convinced him into letting you go to boarding school."

The first thing that came to Blaine's mind was that his mother was weak for not being able to defend him better. But then his thoughts wandered to Damian, and he wondered how he could be able to be without him. He looked to his mother, thoroughly upset at about having to leave his first and only love, yet somehow relieved by the news that he could get away from his school - and the bullies.

"Which school am I going to go to, then?" He asked quietly.

"It's called Dalton Academy, I think. They have a zero-tolerance attitude to bullying, and it is a very prestigious all-boys school. The waiting lines and tuition costs are horrendous, but, as a teacher myself, I was able to pull a few strings. You'll be starting classes there on Monday."

Blaine turned off the tap and looked at his mother, who was obviously expecting a sign of gratitude from him.

"Um… Thank you?" he said sarcastically, as he was almost certain his mother just wanted him out of his parents' "perfect" lives so they wouldn't have to deal with him any longer.

Mrs. Anderson, not picking up on Blaine's sarcasm, nodded slightly and left.

Abandoning his washing, he tiptoed silently down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbed a packet of cream crackers - his comfort food- from the fridge, and took it back to his room. He ate several biscuits, but quickly realised that no amount of cream crackers could helphim this time, and fell back onto his bed, hoping that with sleep would come serenity, even if it was short-lived. His eyes grew heavy and he nodded off for a second time that afternoon, not wanting to think about how he was going to break the news to Damian at school the next day.