He was nervous. He didn't even know where the idea came from. To be honest, it was probably Azimio who gave it to him. He could hardly believe it. But once he'd thought it, it stayed there in his head. He didn't know if it was his way of admitting to some subconscious death-wish he'd been holding inside himself all this time, or if the pressure had finally gotten to him because he had clearly snapped.

He bought it at that store down by the Lima Bean. It had been there, brightly packaged, sitting innocently in the window as he walked past on his way to meet Mercedes for coffee. He'd walked into the store without thinking, straight to the display. There were a surprising number of different types available. Now, normally Kurt was meticulous about his purchases; would have spent a minimum of fifteen minutes comparing the different brands and colours. But he seemed to be acting on autopilot, reaching immediately for the brand he'd seen in the front window. Turning to the checkout counter in the cramped little store, he gave no response to the clerk's raised eyebrow. Merely dropped the money on the counter, stuffed the package quickly into his satchel and continued on towards the coffee shop to meet Mercedes.

The whole thing took less than two minutes.

The entire time he sat in the shop with Mercedes he could feel his purchase burning a hole in his bag. As soon as he got home he yelled a greeting to his dad, rushed to his room and sat on the bed. He paused, taking a deep breath before flipping open the top of his bag and staring at his purchase. With a shaking hand he reached in, and pulled it out. He looked at it for a long moment, mind blank and unsure why he'd even bought it in the first place. He jumped when Carole called him for dinner, quickly shoving the package in his desk drawer on his way down.

When Blaine called later that night to ask how his transfer back to McKinley had gone, Kurt had completely forgotten about it.

It stayed there for a week and a half before he remembered it.

The Bully Whips had been doing their job surprisingly well. This was both a relief and an annoyance, for while he no longer worried about locker checks he could no longer walk anywhere without being followed by Santana or Karofsky. But that Tuesday, a week after he had returned to the public school, Azimio and his friends caught up with him. Of course, none of them could touch him now, but that didn't mean they couldn't say things.

Kurt had gone home, intent on putting the slurs out of his mind. He sat down on his bed to Skype Blaine while working on a history assignment. It was about twenty minutes into their homework-Skype-date, the point which their young relationship had been so quickly reduced to due to exams and distance, when his pencil snapped. He'd held it up so Blaine could see on the computer screen, before walking over to his desk and pulling open the top left-hand drawer. He'd frozen, only moving when Blaine inquired where he'd disappeared to. He picked up the package, and carried it over to the bed, making sure Blaine wouldn't be able to see anything. Blinking at his boyfriend's confused face, he'd quickly made an excuse and closed the lid of his laptop.

He sat there, staring at what he held in his hands, hearing the accumulated years' worth of slurs that Azimio had hurled at him, and at the glee club. Poof. Fag. Homo. Fairy. Especially fairy.

Before Dalton he would never have considered doing what he was planning to do. But then again, before Dalton he would never have thought of it in the first place. Before Dalton, clearly he had still been sane.

He woke up the next morning, putting the bag in his coat pocket. He would have thought he would never have put it in any pocket of any article of clothing he possessed. If it spilled it would be nearly impossible to get out. But something seemed to be guiding him, he needed to do this.


He doesn't see Azimio until the end of the day. The bell had wrung, and Kurt was making his way towards Glee Club when Azimio spotted him from down the hall. Before Azimio might have waited until he was closer, then shoved Kurt into a locker or thrown a slushy in his face. Now however, after glancing around to make sure neither Santana nor Karofsky were within earshot, he simply called out "Yo, Fairy! You better not shed any o' your damn pixy dust 'round me and my boys!"

This is the point that sane-Kurt would have ducked his head and chosen an alternate route to class. Post-Dalton Kurt however, merely continued down the hall towards them, not veering at all from his path. As he approached the cluster of jocks, he slipped his hand into his pocket, into the bag of powder he had been carrying with him all day. Waiting. Without stopping, as he reached Azimio and the jocks, he clutched as large a handful as he could and pulled his fist out of his coat. Just as Azimio begins speaking (Didn't you hear-?), as if he were blowing a kiss, Kurt uncurled his fist and blew a handful of glitter towards the group. He took a millisecond to admire the sparkling dust as it fluttered through the air, dusting Aziomo's hair, head, and shoulders in a fine layer of pink glitter. Then, as the hall of McKinley grew quiet and before Azimio could regain his (meager) speech capabilities, Kurt continued down the hall.

"Dude!" Puck ran up, falling into step beside him. "I don't even know how you did it, but you made that move badass!"

Kurt Just smiled, and kept walking. Glancing down he noticed a pinch of glitter that had fallen onto the hem of his coat. Running his finger along the stitching, he couldn't bring himself to mind it.