Growing up, I didn't realize I was lacking in the love department. I never received it, I never missed it. My parent's were.. Stuck up to put it nicely. They worked hard, and hardly had time for a child. But I guess I didn't mind it because I never complained. I was raised by the maid and that was alright, because she was really a lovely lady. I don't know where I'd be without her. A little lonelier I guess.
My parent's wanted me to have the experience they did, so they tried sending me to public school. Its not like we didn't have the money for private school. Trust me, we did. But they felt I was already spoiled enough and I suppose I'd have to agree. But I never asked for much. They just gave it. Maybe that's how they made up for not loving me.
In public school, I wasn't popular. People didn't like me. But I didn't know how to interact. I didn't know how to introduce myself and make friends. I'd never had to. The friends I had were forced on me when I was little. They were the kids of people my parent's associated with. I didn't enjoy talking to them at all. They were snobby, pushy, and just plain rude. I usually hid in my room the nights they were over. But, since I didn't talk to a lot of people, that meant I had nothing to do but write. Once I began writing, I loved it. Soon I asked my parent's for my first guitar. I was 14.
I said I wasn't popular in public school. Well that became even more true when I came out as the only gay kid in the school. It started with telling one of the kids that were forced upon me. Her name was Jane. I also said that these kids were snobby and rude. She was rude to the max. She told another kid we knew growing up, Robbie. I went to school with Robbie and needless to say, he was disgusted. Pretty soon the entire school knew. That's when the bullying started. The horrible, terrible, life threatening bullying. Then I had to come out to my parent's. That's the only way I was getting out of the hell whole called public high school.
When I came out to my parent's it was spur of the moment, over dinner, while my dad was yelling at me for another bruise I couldn't help having. I told him, countless times, if I told him why they hit me, he'd hate me. But that didn't stop him from bugging and pushing and prying. "I'm gay dad! I'm gay and they don't like that! Maybe they should kill me!" After that, I stormed to my room, leaving behind two shocked and very confused parent's. That was the worst night of my life.
Soon, they transferred me to Dalton. At least I was safe, and away from them. -
Two years later, 16 years old, I was the lead singer of The Warblers. I was popular, and people loved me. It felt good to be needed. It felt good to be loved, even if it was a false sense. I was perfect, dapper, Blaine Anderson. Everyone wanted to be me. But when I was stopped on the steps by a certain brown haired boy, dapper Blaine disappeared. My mouth dropped open, and I stared, at a loss for words. He was… gorgeous. Pale skin, brown hair, blue eyes… and he was talking to me. "Hi, I'm Kurt." he smiled. "I'm… new here." he said. Quickly, I tried my hardest to put together words. "I'm Blaine." I smiled. "Welcome to Dalton, what do you need help with?" "I need to find the choir room." he looked determined, and then I looked at what he was wearing. All black, not the Dalton issued uniform. He didn't start today, or he'd have one. I raised an eyebrow. "Where's your uniform?" he looked at me shocked and stammered for words." "I.. I don't have one.. Not yet anyway.." "Because you don't go to school here." I laughed, shaking my head. What was he doing?
"I.. no.." he hung his head. "I go to McKinley." "That's two hours away." I raised my eyebrow again. "Why would you drive all the way here?"
"I was spying.." he mumbled, keeping his head low. "On..?" now I was curious. "The Warblers.. My glee club sent me, they heard you guys were good and wanted to see the competition. I'm sorry, please don't hate me. I'm really a terrible spy. I'll leave now." He went to walk away, I grabbed his arm. "We cant have you going back to your friends with a failed mission, can we?" I smiled. "Come on, I was just headed to practice." He followed me to the practice room, I introduced him as my friend and let him watch as we practiced our number for sectionals. By the end he was looking at us like we were crazy people. I just smirked, we always got that look from people when we performed.
When we were done, I walked over to him. The smirk was still planted on my face. He stood as I got closer. "How'd you like it? A little taste of the competition?" my smirk softened into a smile, he was gawking at me. "You… your voice…" he stammered for words. "Assuming that to be a compliment, thank you." I laughed. I lead him out of the choir room. "Can I walk you to your car? Or are there any other clubs here you need to spy on?"
"I… no, just yours." He frowned. "You're awfully calm for a guy that was just spied on."
"What can I say? I'm not intimidated by another Glee club, this is for fun." I smiled, walking him out the front doors of Dalton. He laughed. "That's more then I can say for my Glee club. They're extremely competitive."
The rest of the walk we were quiet. But it wasn't that awkward quiet. It was comfortable. Like, just being near him was enough for me. And it was. But he was a stranger, so that's weird… right? We arrived at his car and he turned to look at me. He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow before holding out his hand. "Pleasure meeting you, Blaine." I took his hand slowly. "Pleasure's all mine, Kurt." he turned then, opening his car door. "Wait!" he turned back around surprised. "Can I get your number? You know.. In case you ever actually do come to Dalton." he smiled. Was that a yes?
"So forward." but he was still smiling, as he wrote his number down on a piece of paper and handed it to me. "But feel free to text me anytime." he got in his car and drove away.
What just happened?
AN: I promise it'll get better. I just have problems getting stories started. Criticism is appreciated, I take ideas into consideration. Thank you for support lovelies3