The water surged into the vehicle, frigidly licking at his exposed skin and rising at an alarming rate. His head was throbbing painfully as he blinked several times in an attempt to clear his vision.

Darkness surrounded the car as it was swallowed by the rushing river. He blinked his eyes over to the driver's side, seeing a man frantically trying to unhook his seatbelt as the water level rose above his chest. The man was yelling, trying to capture his attention, but he was too far gone. Soon, the older man gave up on unhooking himself and went to help him. He reached over and successfully released him from the seat before awkwardly angling his body to kick at the passenger door. With a metallic crunch, the door snapped open, "Go, Kurt!" The man urged before the water rose above his head, bubbles escaping his mouth. He could feel hands pushing his body out of the car, the strong current pulling and whipping his body around.

He started to convulse with his need for oxygen, driving his mind to snap back and control his limbs, fighting to reach the air. As soon as his head breached the surface, he greedily sucked in the oxygen, his arms and legs burning from his struggle. Not out of danger yet, he fought against the river, but it was no use. His body was spent, muscles seizing up in the freezing water. He managed to see someone far off in the distance coming to the surface and splashing around, but then everything went dark.

It could have been hours, or only a few minutes, but soon, he was awoken by a sharp kick to his side, causing him to roll over in the mud bank. He could feel the water lapping at his feet, hear the river streaming by and the patter of rain, but he had no clue as to why he was there.

"Wake up, kid." A deep man's voice ordered. He blinked his eyes open to see a shadowy figure standing over him, an umbrella held closely to his chest, "What the hell happened to you?"

He stared at the man's nondescript face for a moment before letting his eyes wander. He couldn't remember much, "I-" He tried to speak, but he was cut off as he fell into a coughing fit.

The man backed off a bit before coming closer and hovering over him, grabbing his face with icy fingers and turning it side to side, as if examining him, "What's your name, boy?" He grunted, releasing his face.

He scrunched his eyebrows together, trying hard to remember. How could he not know his own name?

That man. That man in the car with him called him Kurt. Was that his father? An uncle? He didn't have time to think on it seeing as the man seemed to be getting impatient, "K-Kurt." He answered.

"What are you, 'bout thirteen, fourteen?" He didn't seem to be seeking an answer, so Kurt remained silent, "I think you'd fit in just fine with the rest." He mused, grabbing Kurt's upper arm and wrenching him up onto wobbly, numb legs.

Kurt knew enough to be panicked by a strange man hauling him off, but his body didn't want to cooperate. His mind was racing as his body shut down and soon he was being dragged to a dark van. Kurt was tossed into the back where several solemn young women sat huddled together.

"We're off to New York ladies! And guy." The man said excitedly from the front seat, laughing raucously as he started up the van, speeding away.

Kurt's mind, just like his body, had enough and it too shut down.

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Somehow, through the years living in New York – if you could even call what he was doing living – Kurt's pride managed to remain fairly intact.

As he stood on stage in one of the many gay clubs in the city, taking off his clothes and feeling the groping, wandering hands of the patrons against his skin, he couldn't help but feel that this wasn't supposed to be his life. Everything, from the color of his hair to the glitter on his skin felt completely and utterly wrong. Kurt also knew that the way he was treated surely couldn't be the norm. Being beaten for only collecting one hundred and fifty dollars on a Friday night isn't something that should happen, but that is all he knew.

In his dreams, sometimes he'd see himself in a large, picket fenced house with a tall smiling man who always ruffled his chestnut hair and called him 'kiddo'. In his dream, the man from the car that night five years ago was his father. It all seemed so painfully real as the man tucked him into bed and kissed his forehead… but then he woke up with tears streaming down his face on the cold cement floor and realized his dreams were just that – dreams. Fantasies his mind conjured up to help him get through his existence with momentary reprieve in his sleep.

Kurt had just come off the stage, a light sheen of sweat covering his exposed body from the harsh lights of the club, when a rough hand gripped the back of his neck. He knew to keep still to avoid punishment, "Come on, boy. We're leaving."

Kurt knew better than to ask why, but his stupid mouth decided to move on its own accord, "Why?"

Charlie stopped short, eyeing him critically for a moment before speaking, "One of the girls ran off and I can't have them busting us." Kurt internally cringed when he said 'us', as if Kurt was his partner, "We're going to have to lay low. I'm thinking we should go to Ohio." Something in the back of his mind lit up at the mention of Ohio, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. When Charlie found him, he was somewhere in Massachusetts, so he wasn't sure why Ohio struck a chord, "And just maybe, I'll allow you to go to school there for a while since you've been so good." Kurt actually cracked a smile at that.

He'd begged Charlie to let him go to a real school, but he'd always been so cautious. Apparently Kurt had proved himself trustworthy. And the little issue of Kurt not even knowing who he was worked in Charlie's favor. To be honest, if given the opportunity, Kurt wasn't sure if he'd even try to get away like most of the others. This was all his knew and the thought of leaving scared him… and Charlie knew that. So Kurt kept his head down and nodded, hoping beyond hope he'd be able to go to a real school. Learning on his own from books he'd earned with the little cash he'd managed to scrape together wasn't ideal.

Charlie led him back to the same van he was dropped off in and shoved into the back with four other girls. He pressed himself into the corner, ignoring their glares as they spoke amongst themselves in a foreign tongue. Kurt just shut his eyes and curled into himself, hoping he'd be able to sleep through the long journey to Ohio.

After what seemed like an eternity, the vehicle stopped abruptly. The van door was swept open and Charlie was pulling each of them out, herding them towards a dank looking building. They were thrown into a large, filthy room. Kurt turned quickly, catching Charlie's eyes, "W-when can I start? Going to school I mean."

Charlie grinned cruelly, "Soon as you can pay to get in, Kurtie." He sneered before slamming the large door in his face.

Kurt stood there, dumbfounded. Of course he'd let his hopes up only for them to be ripped down by Charlie. Why had he even thought Charlie would let him go to school? Of course he couldn't. Charlie probably just used Kurt's yearning for some sense of normalcy in school to get him to go along with minimal conflict. It worked.

Kurt stumbled over to an unoccupied corner of the room, sinking down to the chilly concrete floor. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, ignoring the burning of his colored contacts. Charlie made them all disguise themselves, changing their appearance so they couldn't be instantly recognized. For the others, it was different. They knew what they were supposed to look like. Kurt on the other hand had no clue what his natural hair color was, or what his eye color was for that matter. It's not like there were any mirrors around and Charlie always dyed his hair before it grew out. So Kurt just tried to forget the fact that everything was fake and believed that he was born with black hair and brown eyes. It was easier that way.

Everything seemed to be building up on him, pressing against his chest and tingling behind his eyes. He knew this feeling all too well, so he decided he'd try to get some sleep and hope that it would be gone by morning.

Even though he obviously wasn't trusted to go to school, he was the only one who Charlie allowed to go out in public, though that only happened fairly recently. It was probably because even if Kurt did get away, he'd have nowhere to go. So when he woke in the morning, he was given directions to the only gay strip club in the area, the Rainbow Cactus in Westerville.

Of course he'd been hired on the spot since apparently there weren't a lot of guys trying out. He'd earned himself an inappropriate squeeze to his ass from the overly handsy owner before he was able to finally leave.

As he made his way back 'home', he walked past a huge, beautiful school. It looked like something out of a storybook. Knowing Charlie probably wouldn't be expecting him back for at least another hour, he decided to watch as the prep school boys walked through the front commons, chatting and smiling. Kurt was about to turn away when he noticed a gathering at the far end of the courtyard. Curiosity taking over, he snuck in and followed the groups of boys running over to the crowd.

Several blazer-clad students were in the center, humming to a tune Kurt had never heard before. Then, a shorter boy with gelled hair and stunning hazel eyes jumped out and started to sing a song about a teenage dream. Kurt could only stare as the boy bounced around, dancing and enjoying himself. Then, the boy caught his eye and it seemed as if he was singing the song straight to him. Kurt couldn't help but blush. The boy was far too good looking to be staring at him.

Feeling awkward, Kurt stepped away and weaved his way back through the crowd of boys. He didn't belong there. There was applause behind him as he jogged away, off the school grounds. Before he could make it to the main gate, he felt a hand on his shoulder. The touch brought him back to the way Charlie would grab him, so on instinct, he went completely still, his body tensing and his eyes squeezed shut.

"Hey, are you okay?" A gentle voice asked. Kurt slowly opened his eyes to see a pair of golden eyes watching him with concern.

"I'm fine." Kurt told him, slowly extracting himself from the boy's hand.

The boy held out his hand, a grin forming on his handsome face, "I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

Kurt shrunk back slightly, but shook the offered hand, "Kurt."

"No last name, Kurt?" He joked. Kurt shook his head. Blaine seemed to laugh it off, assuming Kurt was joking, which he wasn't, "Did you enjoy the performance?" He asked, seeming to genuinely want to know what Kurt though of it.

"Y-you were very good."

Blaine beamed at that, "Thanks! So… are you thinking about coming to Dalton?" He asked, attempting to make conversation, "It's a great school. I live in the dorms and I have been looking for a roommate." He said excitedly, a slight blush coloring his lightly tanned skin.

Kurt glanced around, his nerves on end. He never had conversations with people. He was either at work or in whatever dump Charlie moved them to. None of the others ever spoke to him, so he wasn't very adapt to speaking to people. Blaine was watching him with a patient expression, reminding him he needed to answer, "I-I don't go… to school."

Blaine cocked his head to the side in a strangely adorable manner, "You've graduated…?"

"I… uh." Kurt started to back away, twisting his fingers together.

Blaine seemed to decide he wasn't going to get an answer, so he moved on, "Hey, uh… Did you want to go- hang out sometime?" This time, a full blush formed on his cheeks.

"I have to go." He said suddenly, instantly regretting it as Blaine's face fell. He turned on his heel and rushed off school grounds, leaving Blaine behind.

Kurt threw all thoughts of the gorgeous Blaine Anderson to the back of his mind the moment he got back to the house. Charlie was peering through the torn mesh door, his green eyes livid. Kurt fought the urge to run away and instead, walked straight up the cracked pavement to the door. Charlie lunged out, grabbing Kurt by the collar of his shirt and yanking him inside, "Got a call from the club. Manager said he hired you within minutes of you showing up. Care to share why the fuck you got back just now?" He spat angrily. Kurt looked down, knowing better than to meet Charlie's eyes, "You trying to escape? You know that's a dumb fuck idea, right, Kurtie? I mean, where the hell else would you go? I put clothes on your back and food in your stomach. I own you. Don't you ever think you can get out. No one else would want your sorry ass anyway." He growled. Finally finished with his rant, he dragged Kurt to his shared room, tossing him to the ground, "You start at the club tonight, so start getting ready now. Guess I'll have to escort your ass there." He spun around and threw the door back, shutting it with a resounding bang.

He ignored the girls rolling their eyes at him as he went over to the corner of the room that Charlie threw all of their things in. Kurt found his small satchel and proceeded to fill it with his scented body glitter and other things he might need, not that he had a lot.

Knowing he'd be up late, he decided to nap until Charlie came to get him. In his dreams however, he did not imagine a loving father tucking him into bed… he instead dreamed of a pair of warm, kind amber eyes.

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"Guys, I don't think this is such a good idea." Blaine complained as he was pushed towards the doors of the only gay strip club for miles, "I-I mean, we live here. I'm sure someone would recognize us! Do I look twenty-one to you?" He asked desperately, glancing at all of his Warbler friends. He supposed a few of them looked the part now that they were all out of their uniforms, but still.

Wes rolled his eyes, continuing to press forward, "Calm down. All that gel has gone to your head."

"And we dragged you to the strip club with girls last week, so it's only fair you get to have an embarrassing hard-on too!" Jeff chimed in, winking.

Blaine flushed but obediently held up his fake I.D. to the bouncer who just waved him through with a bored expression on his face. As soon as he got in, his senses were assaulted by flashing technicolor lights and booming music.

His friends pushed him forward towards a vacant table in the front, right by the large stage. Blaine sat down on the high-legged chair, watching as a well-built man strutted out onto the stage, a lewd grin on his tanned face. The announcer introduced the man to the crowd as Tank and he definitely lived up to his name. The man was certainly built like a tank.

A few more men came out, but none of them really did anything for him. His friends complained that Blaine wasn't enjoying himself… and it was partially true. It was all because of that mystery boy that showed up at Dalton about a week ago. He couldn't get his face out of his mind, which was stupid really. Why should he be so hung up on some random –albeit gorgeous – guy who barely spoke to him and then ran off when Blaine had kind of – sort of – asked him out? The guy whose name was Kurt… who was currently strutting on stage- wait, what?

"We would like to introduce a newcomer to the Rainbow Cactus family. He has only been here for one week and is already a favorite. Here he is, the Alabaster Vixen!" The announcer said excitedly. The club patrons all seemed extremely excited at the prospect of fresh meat judging by the way they all gathered around the stage, tossing bunched up paper money at him.

Blaine literally couldn't take his eyes off him. This boy that was so shy earlier was now confidently working the stage. The way his creamy, pale skin shimmered in the hot pink lights as he danced his way to the edge of the stage, teasing the crowd by slipping off his elbow length black gloves. His coiffed jet-black hair mirrored the charcoal smudges framing his dark ember eyes, creating a sense of mystery about him. Kurt started to pluck the buttons of his black silk vest, tantalizingly slow, a wicked grin forming on his face before ripping it completely off, revealing his broad chest. Blaine couldn't help but let his eyes travel to the trail of fine, light brown hair that disappeared underneath his sinfully tight and low leather jeans. Kurt ran forward, catching a rope that had just fallen down, and swung above the audience a few times before landing gracefully on stage.

"Want us to get a bowl to catch the drool?" Nick joked, nudging Blaine.

Blaine blinked a few times, looking at his friends who were all sharing suspiciously sneaky looks. He ignored them in favor of watching Kurt finish his routine. Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his seat, Kurt's swiveling hips causing his pants to become unbearably tight.

Feeling a hand clap down on his shoulder, Blaine tore his eyes off the beautiful boy on stage and turned to see Jeff with a large guy standing behind him, "Come with me, Blainers. We got you a surprise!"

"What-"

"Think of this as an early birthday present." He said as he hauled Blaine off the chair and followed the man back behind some curtains and into a small room with a single chair, "Stay here." He ordered, sitting him down in the chair and escaping before Blaine could protest.

After a few minutes, Blaine decided to just leave. He started to stand when the curtain suddenly flicked open and none other than Kurt came in, snapping the material back with the flick of his wrist. The moment their eyes met, Blaine knew that Kurt recognized him. The tall boy blinked a few times before a smile turned up on his face and he stalked forward, "Your friends paid for a private show for you, birthday boy."

"Kurt?" Blaine asked. He knew it was him, but he was acting so differently… like he had some sort of shy twin that Blaine had met.

Kurt's dark eyes flashed for a second before he stepped forward, pushing Blaine back down into the chair, "I supposed you didn't hear the announcer. I'm the Alabaster Vixen." He said the name with a hidden amount of contempt, layered with sarcasm, but his face remained serious.

Blaine shook his head in denial, "No. I met you at Dalton last Friday." He protested.

"Shh." Kurt hushed him, pressing a finger to his lips, "Just…" He faltered a bit, his face betraying his words, "Enjoy yourself, sweetie." He purred, moving to straddle Blaine on the small chair, his weight hovering just slightly above Blaine.

Kurt slowly rolled his hips, taking Blaine's hands and placing them on his leather-clad ass. Blaine blushed furiously as Kurt snaked his hands up Blaine's chest, resting them on his shoulders as he continued to move to the beat of the music.

Blaine was so lost in the feeling, he let his hands travel up Kurt's sides and all the way up to cup his jaw. Kurt stopped moving for a moment, their eyes meeting in an intense gaze. It was as if the music had stopped and everything was frozen still, all that he could concentrate on was the pair of chocolate brown eyes staring back at him. Blaine leaned forward in the moment, his lips barely brushing Kurt's when suddenly, Kurt fell back, falling onto the carpeted floor.

"S-sorry, I- I didn't…" There was the Kurt he remembered, stumbling over his words, "Are you angry?" He asked meekly.

Of all the things he thought Kurt would say, he certainly didn't expect him to ask if Blaine was mad at him, as if he might get hurt, "No." Blaine assured him, "No, I'm not mad."

Kurt nodded, seeming to work on gathering himself for a moment. Blaine slid out of the chair and onto his knees in front of Kurt who was still seated on the floor. He used that opportunity to try to speak to him. For some strange reason, he felt like he was drawn to the pale boy, "Are you even old enough to work here?" He asked, seeming to draw Kurt out of himself, "You can't be more than seventeen or eighteen…"

Kurt looked down at his feet, "I-I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Blaine reached out and touched the top of Kurt's hand, causing him to flinch, "I have to go. I'm sorry, Blaine." He jumped to his feet, moving the curtain back and going back into the club.

Blaine only caught a glimpse of him before he noticed a hand shooting out, snatching Kurt's vest and tugging him into a darker section of the club. He struggled to his feet, shoving the flimsy, maroon velvet curtain out of his way. There was no sign of Kurt anywhere.

Eventually, he had to leave. None of the workers knew what he was talking about when he tried to get help and basically ignored him. So he was left with no choice but to go back to Dalton. His friends were laughing and joking around him, but all he could think of was Kurt.

=================================gLee================================

So, here is the stripper/dancer!Kurt fic I promised! I hope that you all like it.