You're not good enough.

You're a disappointment in this family.

You're a disgrace.

You're disgusting.

I didn't raise you to be this way.

What's wrong with you?

I have never felt so alone.

My name is Blaine Anderson. I am 16 years old. I am the lead singer of the Warblers at Dalton Academy in Westerville, Ohio. I am a straight A student. I tried to take a guy on a date once and got the living shit beat out of me. I moved on from that and grew stronger than ever before. By doing so, I also hid. I am alone. And worst of all, my father hates me.

It's moments like this, when I'm locked in my room, crying on a weekend, that I wish I wasn't so alone. It's not that I'm the type of person who's never happy unless I have a boyfriend. In fact, I've never been the type to crave a boyfriend. I've always been perfectly content being single.

But right now, at this moment, seconds after my father stormed into my room and yelled those hateful words at me, I wish I wasn't so alone.

I want to be the world to someone. I want someone to call my dad out on his hate. I want someone to tell me that my dad doesn't know what he's talking about. I know that his hateful words aren't true, but that's getting harder and harder to convince myself of as time goes on, and I don't have anyone assuring me otherwise.

All I hear is disdain. I curl up in my bed, alone, and cling to my favorite childhood stuffed animal, and I just wish that someone could be here with me, holding me, hugging me back. I want to focus all of my energy into loving someone else, and have someone else love me in return.

But for now, I'm completely alone.

So I turn on my iPod and run-over the lyrics to Teenage Dream for the surprise performance at school tomorrow.

One year later...

My dad is yelling at me again.

You're lazy and will never succeed.

You don't have what it takes to be a man.

You're a failure.

I don't care.

Kurt thinks I'm wonderful.

Kurt thinks I'm beautiful.

Kurt thinks I'm the most talented man he's ever met.

I'm the world to Kurt, and he's the world to me.

Kurt is curled up in bed with me, holding me in his arms, and whispering loving words to me over my dad's shouts.

Kurt thinks my father's an idiot.

Kurt loves me, and that's all that matters.


A/N: Just a short little drabble I wrote over the holidays. Needed to project myself onto Blaine. Thanks, RIB, for lending me the character :)

Always remember: it gets better.