Blaine and Kurt don't meet the way they do in NBK. Takes place shortly after the Sadie Hawkins dance.
I do not own Glee. If I did every show would be just Klaine.
What I remember from that night wasn't the carefree laughing, the awful music, the spastic dancing, or my first kiss. No. All I remember was the pain, the slurs, the blood, my unconscious date, and the knife.
"Will you be okay, Squirt?" My brother asks for the millionth time since we've arrived at Dalton Academy.
Will I be okay?, I think. I honestly don't have an answer. Of course instead of telling him that, I nod.
Cooper sighs, comes towards me and sits next to me on my Dalton-issued bed. He scoots over a couple of boxes in order to fit, and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I lean over to rest my head on his chest, hearing the calming heart beat that I've grown to recognize over the years that I've come home and needed a shoulder to cry on.
"I know you haven't spoken since the incident," I stiffen and he pulls me closer. "But you know I'll always be here for you, when you need someone to listen. I'll text you every night to check in on you, God knows mom and dad won't, but I expect an answer back."
I nod again, knowing it was time to say goodbye. My new roommate should be here soon to show me the "wonders and mysteries that is Dalton", according to the Head Master.
Cooper puts his other arm around, turning it into a hug and presses a kiss to my gelled hair.
"I love you, Blaine." He says, pulling away and standing up.
I stand up as well and place my hand over his heart, which he knows means: I love you, too.
He smiles and places a kiss on my cheek, before walking out the door, closing it behind him.
Sighing, I turn my back to the entryway, causing me to be slightly uncomfortable, and look around my new room, two beds, two desks, two wardrobes, one bathroom. The dorm is pretty neat apart from a cluster of papers on one of the desks, one of the bed's being messy and unmade, and my bed being full of boxes.
Slowly, I walk towards the closest box and start to take things out, sheet music, my journal, guitar picks, lamp, cords to the unknown, a couple of CD's. I pause when I find a picture of me and Coop at the park before the incident, both of us without a care in the world, the only pain either of us had to deal with was bad grades and rejection form girls (or in my case, boys). I put the picture on my bedside table along with my lamp, my journal in the drawer, and everything else on the desk. Then I start working on my next box which contained a toothbrush, hair gel, more CD's, alarm clock, and a couple of bowties, and I put them away in their respectable places. I go over to my suitcase next, putting my clothes for the weekends away in the wardrobe, ignoring the three uniforms already hanging inside. That's when I hear a soft knock. I turn around to see a brown haired boy standing in the doorway.
He smiles softly at me and makes his way across the room.
"Hello, my name is Nick Duval. You must be Blaine. It's a pleasure to meet you." Nick says smiling, holding out his hand, which I flinch at. He must have noticed, since he lowers it slowly to his jacket clad side, his warm smile only faltering for a second.
The boy is pretty cute, with dark brown hair in his also dark brown eyes, teeth gleaming in the artificial light. He's a little bit taller than me, and buffer as well. His uniform fits him great, hugging him in all the right places. Since I'm a midterm transfer, I don't have the luxury of getting my uniforms fitted, like Nick did. I can only imagine how ridiculous I'll look in the last year hand me downs.
"The Head Master informed me of your problem, as well as all the teachers and staff," my eyes widen. "Don't worry, she didn't tell us why the problem occurred." Nick says, still smiling. "Are you hungry? It's lunch time right now, so we can head down to the cafeteria or the coffee shop if you'd like?"
I just nod, looking down at my shoes, not knowing how to answer.
"Oh! That reminds me!" My roommate exclaims, digging in his bag at his side. He pulls out a leather bound book, along with a pen, and holds it out for me.
I raise my eyebrows in confusion, but take it anyway.
"It's so you can communicate easier with everyone." By the time he says this, he's bouncing up and down on the toes. I open the book, curiously finding some writing on the back side of the cover.
To Blaine,I read,I hope you'll enjoy your time here at Dalton and I'm looking forward to being your roommate for the year. From, Nick.
By the time I'm finished reading, I can feel a smile tugging at my lips. I click the pen and write: Thank you.
I turn the book around for Nick to read. His smile grows wider. He grabs my hand and pulls me out into the hallway, pausing to close the door behind us.
"Come on, I want you to meet some people!"
We eventually arrive at, what appears to be, a cafeteria. There's a bunch of dark, wooden, round tables surrounded by five or six wooden chairs. A crystal chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling surrounded by artistic black designs. The walls are painted red and have inspirational quotes and paintings all over them. To one side, there's a salad bar and a coffee shop, the other has a normal lunch line.
Nick tugs me into the direction of the lunch line and we grab some of the so called "food". We pay for our meals and Nick leads me over to a table. On our way there, random boys smile and greet me. As I nod in reply, I can't help but think that maybe everything will be okay here, that people are okay with "different". I know I'm getting my hopes up, so I shake the thoughts out of my head and keep my eyes on the floor.
We finally arrive at a table, and Nick sits down. I stand, unsure if he wants me to sit with him, but when he looks up at me and smiles that warm, welcoming smile, I can't help but sit to his left.
I start picking at my food, which consists of an apple, milk, a piece of pizza, and a cookie, as a couple of guys approach us. I quickly lock my eyes on my food and try to ignore their arrival.
"Hey, Nick." I hear one of them say, followed by chairs scrapping against the tiled floor and trays hitting the table.
"Hey, Jeff. Hey, Wes." Nick replies.
"Who's the new guy?" A new voice asks, probably Wes.
I feel myself shrink in my chair, but I look up in response.
Nick smiles in encouragement.
"Guys, this is my new roommate, Blaine. Blaine, this is Wes," he says pointing to an Asian guy, about a year older with brown eyes, brown hair, and tan skin, "and Jeff." He gestures to a lean, tanish, bleach blonde guy, who looks at me excitedly.
"Hey!" Jeff says, shoving his hand in my face, causing me to shrink back and flinch in reply.
Jeff's smile slips from his face.
"Hey. It's okay. I won't bite." He looks at me with concern. Wes has a look of confusion, and Nick has one of understanding.
Slowly, I raise my hand in a sort of wave and an attempt at a smile.
Jeff perks up at this and his smile returns.
Wes also looks relieved, to get some sort of response, and they both begin to eat.
Nick gives me a thumbs up and takes a bite of his apple.
My smile slowly becomes less forced and more real as Wes and Jeff bicker over who's hotter: Megan fox or Jessica Alba. Every once in a while, Nick would cut in with a comment, but other than that he'd ignore them.
My smile was wiped off my face though, when Jeff asked my opinion.
"Megan Fox is way hotter. What do you think, Blaine?" He asks, turning towards me.
When my name pops up in the conversation, the whole table looks at me.
Under the table, I start playing with my sleeves and I keep my eyes on my lap.
Should I tell them I'm gay? What if they have a problem with me being gay? How am I going to tell them that I can't even tell them that I'm gay?
My inner rambling was cut off by a throat being cleared. I look up to see Nick looking at me with questioning in his eyes.
I nod, knowing it'll be easier if he tells them.
"Um, guys," Nick cleared his throat again and coughs, looking at me out of the side of his eyes. "Blaine, he, uh, he can't really, you know, talk."
I was then met with two looks up surprise and one of sadness.
Nick tries to put a hand on my shoulder, which I move away from. I'm done with other people comforting me. I shift uncomfortably under the intense stares, but it isn't until the next sentence comes out of Wes's mouth, that I really start freaking out.
"Why?"
And with that I leave my untouched lunch at the table, and run out of there, not knowing where I'm going.
I run for what feels like hours. Eventually I end up in a wide room, full of couches, a fireplace, and round tables. A couple of windows are on the far wall, and sadly, it's raining. The dark sky causes the room to be casted into shadows, making it glow, eerily.
How appropriate.
Looking around, I notice a piano in the corner, close to a window. Slowly, I make my way over and sit on the creaky bench.
I run my hands over the creamy ivories, enjoying their cool touch, and I savor the smooth feel of the wood. After taking a deep breath, I press on one, creating a clear sound throughout the empty room.
I haven't played since before the incident. I've only stared at my piano and guitar at home, longing to hear their comforting sound, but feeling no need to play.
Until now.
Closing m eyes, I allow myself to press more keys, my fingers dancing and gliding across the keyboard, the bittersweet song reflecting my inner most feelings, laying them out for anyone to hear.
I've missed this, pouring out my heart in the most expressive way. As the song grows bitterer, I can feel my eyes well up. For the past three months, which included the four weeks in the hospital, the countless therapy sessions, both psychological and physical, the nights when I'd wake in a cold sweat, screaming out in agony for help, the funeral, the locker shoves, dumpster dives, and the few times of being tripped down the stairs that followed the incident, the moving, having my parents ignore me throughout all this, while all this was going on, I never, never let myself cry. That showed weakness, showed that I was, and am, a coward. A coward that ran from my problems, that ran when it got too hard to live in the real world.
For the first time since my life flipped upside down, I started to cry.
I kept playing, my eyes closed, savoring this moment to myself.
That's when I heard a cough.
I looked up to not only see a pair of eyes, but the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, eyes that I couldn't even decide the color of. Were they green? Blue? Hazel? Grey? All I knew is that they were beautiful.
Those eyes belonged to a boy about my age, with perfect chestnut hair, flawless, pale skin, and a great sense of fashion.
The boy's smiling at me.
That's when I noticed that I've been staring.
I quickly wipe my face clean of tears and stand up from the piano.
The boy moves closer, his uniform stays wrinkle free as he move. He stops when he reaches a couch, and he casually leans against the back, facing me.
"That was beautiful." The boy says.
I feel my face grow hot and I look at my shoes, only nodding in response.
I hear footsteps against the wooden floors and suddenly, another pair of feet joins mine.
"Your very talented." The boy tries again.
I sneak a glance at him, he's still smiling. His eyes are even more beautiful up close. I nod and smile back.
"You seem to live the music, not just play it"
I wanted to say something, not just sit here nodding at everything. That's when I realized I left my writing book in the cafeteria. Hopefully Nick will grab it. I feel a wave of guilt for just leaving them there.
"You don't talk much, do you?" the boy asks, startling me out of my thoughts.
I shake my head.
The boy sighs in reply.
"Are you going to talk at all?" He looks at me confused.
I shake my head again. Confusion turns to concern.
He was about to ask something else when Nick ran into the room, out of breathe, holding my book.
"There you are! We've been looking for you for, like, ever! I see you've met Kurt." Nick smiles and comes over to me. He hands me my book. "Here, you forgot it on the table. Wes and Jeff feel really bad. I tried telling them that you just need time, but they wanted me to let you know that they're sorry."
I feel even guiltier now.
I give Nick a small smile, and he gives me a pat on the back, which I try not to shy away from, in return.
"Hey, Kurt." Nick greets the boy, grinning.
Kurt. Kurt. His name is Kurt. It suits him.
The boy, Kurt, smiles.
"Hey, Nick. I was just talking to him about the weather. It's getting real nasty out there."
I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't want anyone to know about m outlet, my security blanket. It's too personal.
When Nick turns to look out the window, observing the rain, Kurt winks at me. I feel myself blush once again, but I know he understands.
"Yeah, it is getting bad. The Head Master will probably want us in our dorms soon."
"Yeah, I better head that way." Kurt looks over at me. "I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name." He smiles.
Nick looks over at me and opens his mouth to reply. I hold up a finger, telling him to stop.
I open my book and write down:
Blaine Anderson, New student. Transferred today. Nice to meet you.
I then hand it to Kurt so he could read it.
Realization shows on his face and he grabs my pen from me, writes something down, then gave it back to me. He then gave a wave, says goodbye to Nick and walks out.
After watching him go, I look down and read:
Kurt Hummel, your new friend.
I hope you like it! More chapters will be posted later!
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Xoxoxo -Ariel