My world fell apart when I saw that damn thing. Purple coloring, sugar-filled water, corn syrup, and freezing shredded ice that would soon be sliding against my skin. Just thinking about it gave me the chills. But the problem wasn't the drink. Not completely, anyway.

The problem was him: Finn Hudson. He was one of those unintelligent gorillas that dedicated themselves to the school football team and shoved fags -- oh, how I despise that word -- like me into dumpsters. The catch, though, is that Finn isn't your ordinary high school quarterback-monkey. No, he has a heart. And some smarts. And a singing voice. And Glee. He has Glee.

Even though Finn has shoved me into lockers and has thrown me into dumpsters with his football buddies many times before, I always see past his tough charade. Deep inside, Finn could never be like those other savages. It's a shame that he still can't see the potential that I see in him.

I looked away from Rachel, facing what I undoubtedly knew would be my demise. When I looked into his eyes, I saw his pain. He was worried that I would be hurt by this. Isn't that funny?

So, what could be said in such a situation? How about:

"Do it."

It was the only thing that really crossed my mind at the moment. I wanted him to get the torture over with. The hurt in his eyes was immensely prominent and, though I can sometimes have a little bit of an over-active imagination, Rachel being deathly close to clawing his eyes out was highly plausible.

"I really don't want to, honestly. I know how picky you are about the products you use on your face," He uttered out, slushie sloshing around with the movement of his arms.

"But you've been getting so much pressure from the gorillas on the football team," Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mercedes, Tina, and Artie coming toward us. They didn't look too happy about our current situation. I might have cared a bit more too if it weren't for Finn's beautiful sad eyes staring at me with what I could only call compassion. I lamely finished, "I guess they didn't appreciate me resigning from the team and choosing Glee."

"It probably would of went over better if you didn't announce it in the showers."

"You are not gonna slushie on my man Kurt," Mercedes interjected. If looks could kill, poor Finn would be dead, twitching, and drooling all over my designer shoes right now.

Cue Rachel's side of the argument, "Why wouldn't he? He's made his choice. He doesn't care about us losers anymore."

Then, something happened that made my heart stop. Finn's face scrunched into an unappealing frown and I finally understood what my dad meant when he said that peer pressure can kill you. Finn looked like he was either about to cry or spontaneously combust in a matter of seconds.

"That's not true. It's just -- if I don't do it, the guys on the team are gonna kick the crap out of me."

That just wouldn't do.

"Well we can't have that, can we?" I took the large cup from Finn, a bit disappointed that my hands didn't meet his as I did. My mind was racing miles a minute. I could risk my cleanliness, my designer clothes that lay under my raincoat, and my perfected hair and face…or I could risk the little bit of happiness that Finn seemed to have left.

"What are you doin'?"

My choice was simple. If I wanted to be noticed by my object of affection, I would have had to take a hit sometime down the line. That sometime just happened to be now.

"It's called taking one for the team."

I didn't even know what I was doing until the unbearable sticky feeling of the slushie slid down my face. Clumps of ice quickly made their way down my neck and under the collar of my shirt. It took all had to suppress my emotions.

Time seemed to stop and we were all frozen in it, waiting for somebody to start talking again. There were a few gasps that, from what I could hear, all belonged to the girls. But Finn, wouldn't you know it, seemed pretty damn shocked too. Why would he be? I mean, real friends would take a slushie to the face for him any day. I would take a bullet for him; not that he'd care enough to notice, though.

After what felt like days, I made the first move and wiped as much shushie off of my face as I could. More chunks slid down to my shoulders. Nothing could describe what I was feeling at that time. If I had to attempt putting a name on it, I would say that I felt hated. Dirty and hated.

At the moment, I could have collapsed on myself and sobbed hysterically in the middle of the hallway. But I didn't. I had a plan and my pride and damn it if I messed everything up now.

No, instead, I looked up into Finn's eyes again, put on the saddest excuse for a hurt glare that I could, and swallowed, preparing my speech.

"Now get out of here," I heard myself snarl. Maybe it sounded tough to everyone else around me, but honestly, I was blinking back tears. "And take some time to think weather or not any of your friends on the football team would have done that for you."

Everyone stared at Finn. He was walking backwards, empty slushie cup in hand, mouth agape. It felt good, being able to make him feel regret for doing this to us. It felt good to stand up for Glee.

So, as he ran away to his little jock clique, the hallway was filled with dead silence yet again. Of course, I wasn't planning on letting the slushie soak into my underwear, so I spoke up.

"Someone get me to a day spa, stat!"

What else would I have said? I didn't care if other people heard, if they insulted my sexuality, if a thousand more slushies rained down upon me. I just didn't care anymore. The man I love just turned on us. He turned on Glee and that is inexcusable.

I know that the rest of the group will shun Finn, tell him how much of a jackass he is for choosing the team over us. I don't care. I'm bending over the sink, splashing my face with handfuls and handfuls of water, and I still can't stay mad at him.

Rachel and Tina went into the corner of the bathroom, taking my rain coat and wiping it down. They were angrily talking about how they're going to get Finn back. As I cleaned myself up, I felt Mercedes' hand on my shoulder. I could always count on her to be there for me.

"You care about him a lot, don't you?" She was frowning, her eyes held the same concern that Finn's had. And right there, as soon as I thought about him, I broke down. Because my face and the bandana around my neck were sopping wet, Rachel and Tina couldn't tell the difference between the leftover slushie, the water I splashed on, and my tears. Thankfully, Mercedes could.

As I tried to keep my crying silent, she wrapped her arms around me and whispered lies about everything turning out alright. It made me smile a bit; her efforts to make me happy. At that moment, she reminded me of my mom. I cried harder.

And even after all this, I still love him.