Diclaimer: I hereby dis the claim that I have any ownership over anything to do with glee or its characters.


Blaine knew the scene well: this coffee shop, this table, this beautiful man sitting across from him. It had been almost two years, he mused to himself, his eyes tracing the curve of a delicate lip, soft pink against pale white skin. Blaine tilted his head, taking in the light brown hair, pushed back just so, before lowering his eyes to meet a questioning, bright blue eye under a delicately arched eyebrow.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked Blaine, relaxing back on his chair.

"You know I almost sang to you at the Gap you used to work in, but I…"chickened out "Couldn't get the other Warblers to agree."

Jeremiah laughed, sitting up. "Oh really? Did you have a crush on me? How cute." Blaine stomach flipped as Jeremiah patted his hand. "It's at times like these when I remember just how young you are, Blaine."

"I'm seventeen." Blaine protested Jeremiah's patronizing tone. His shoulders curved in slightly. Every time he said something like this. Something that might open up their friendship to more Jeremiah didn't even notice.

Jeremiah didn't even acknowledge Blaine's statement. Instead he checked his watch. "Speaking of, I have to get out of here." He took a final sip before standing.

"Good luck." Blaine murmured half heartedly to the other boy.

"Well it can't be as bad as the last blind date, can it?" Jeremiah gave him a tiny wave and was off, a perfect whirlwind of grace and calm.

Blaine resisted the urge to bang his head against the table in front of him.

Blaine thought back all those months, to the when he had decided to kiss Jeremiah. Blaine had watched Jer's face intently; he didn't even remember the movie. He did remember that when he finally worked up the courage and leaned in, mouth opened slightly, Jeremiah had turned and put a potato chip in his mouth.

"Try this! Aren't they great? Sour Cream and Onion chips are my new favorite things ever." Jeremiah turned his attention back to the movie and Blaine tried to forget the salty sting of rejection as he swallowed the chip.

After that he had even managed to get over Jer for a while. Then something would jolt him back into the crush, Jeremiah would complement him on his clothes, or look at him and tell him he looked older. Blaine would find himself in the exact same position all over again, head over heels.

The worst part was he had no one he could really talk to about his feelings, ever. He was sure Wes and David would listen politely if he ever needed it, but they were at university, and they had mostly had a working relationship within the Warblers. He could talk to Matt or maybe Nick, his closest friends in the group. But they tended to want to throw around a football or jam. Neither of which involved any kind of talking about feelings. And come to think of it, he hadn't had time to talk to either one in a month or so, everyone had seemed to busy these days.

And talking to either one of his parents was laughable. They wouldn't even look him in the eye when he explained again how being gay meant that he didn't want to take Angelica Tanner to the party, however good a friend her parents might be, and however beautiful she might have gotten in the last year.

Blaine tipped the end of his coffee up to catch the last drops and stood, swinging his bag onto one shoulder.

He was still pouting as the heavy sound of the front door closing behind him echoed dimly off the high ceiling and the pristine white walls and cool modern statues that stood in the entrance hall. Everywhere were tints of white on white. The only paintings were like Pollack's paintings, but gone horribly wrong and minimalist.

"I'm home." Blaine whispered to the empty building. He slipped out of his shoes and tossed his keys in them. His feet fought for friction against the cool flooring and Blaine shivered as the coldness seeped through his thing socks and travel rapidly up his legs.

This was not his mother's style. It was the choice of the decorator that she had hired two years ago and then fired when she had seen the nearly completed house. Nothing had been done since no one used the place for more than a month or two in a year, except Blaine when he was at school.

Blaine was thankful for the whitewashed wood at the top of the stairs under his feet. But the chill had already settled in so he grabbed a blanket out of the linen closet on his way to his room. He had it firmly wrapped around himself by the time he climbed onto his bed and booted up his laptop. The rich colors enfolded him. It was the only room in the house that the designer who had gone mad on white hadn't touched. He had instead painted the walls a deep green all by himself and gotten his hands on some old antique Americana furniture. It was all clunky roughly joined, but polished to a glowing sheen with age.

His computer whirled on his lap and he opened up garage band. He slipped his headphones back to lose himself in fixing the song he had been recording.


His alarm went off at an ungodly hour. Blaine made a point not to look out the window until he was showed dressed and downstairs eating breakfast. Even then it was still dark outside. Blaine smiled regardless.

This morning was Warbler practice. He hummed to himself as he threw on his coat and a scarf then hurdled out the door. He spared only a brief wave to the few workmen straggling in.

Maybe he could get them to take down the god-awful installation over the stairs.

Blaine cranked his car stereo on the drive to school, pulling into the parking lot in record time.

The hallways of Dalton were warm. Blaine knew that it was most likely due to its use of dark woods and orange tinged lighting. But he liked too think instead that it was all the people. He liked to think it was somewhere to belong.

Blaine took in the familiar sounds, the thrum of excited voices and the click of well polished loafers against the marble floor. A smile creeps on his lips as he walks and notices little imperfections in the school, a dent in that lamp there from when they had moved from throwing paper in the air to throwing bags and full books. A scratch on the ornate wall cover up there from when they decided they should end the performance by throwing Blaine onto center stage. He grimaced at the scuffs in the soft leather, due to arguments over philosophy in the senior commons. That one they had actually gotten in trouble for.

Blaine bounded down the hall to the practice hall. His fingers tapped out a rhythm on the strap of his bag and burst through the oak doors, a bundle of energy.

All of his forward motion came to an abrupt halt as he passed through the doors. The Warblers were there already, seated and Chase was banging his gavel.

"May we have the vote now?" He called, gaining the attention of the room once more. Chase may have phrased it as a question, but it came across more like an order. That was one of the reasons why Blaine didn't like him. He took things more seriously than Thad had, as improbable as that seemed.

A few hands were raise and Blaine looked around questioning."What are we voting on?"

"Warbler Blaine. Please be quiet while the vote is being taken."

Blaine bit his lip and tired not to bounce on his heels.

"Passed." Chase intoned, turning his focus to Blaine. "Warbler Blaine?"

"Ok. I just wanted to say that I have the best idea for a new song-"

"That was not permission to speak." Chase's eyes were intent as he folded his hands and continued. "I have important news to share with you. The Warblers have spoken and it seems you will no longer be representing us as lead man in the upcoming competition. You will be, of course, welcome to resume you position as second tenor."

Blaine looked around stunned at his compatriots. "But, why?" Blaine looked around but no one would met his eye.

Chase smirked. "It we have not actually won the show choir in the past two years. We are hoping that we correct that, by making a change for the better. Now I believe we have covered everything for this meeting."

"I am sorry that I disappointed you all. I just wish you had told me. I think I have the right to be involved in this decision, seeing as I am a senior member-"

"No, you do not." Chad cut him off again. "You seemed to have had Wes and David under your thumb, and Thad carried on the tradition last year, but now that they are gone, we will have a new lead. And auditions will be held Tuesday at four, sharp. I am sorry if that steps on your pride, Mr. Anderson, but it is for the team. That comes before anything else." The gavel banged twice and the meeting was over.

Blaine stood very still in the flurry of activity. No more leads. He could deal with that. It was something that he had come to expect, but he could be just another part of the team. Everyone was an important member in the a capella group. He just would have to remind himself of that. He could force himself so sway into the background. He could make himself back into nothing special. Goodness knows that he had enough practice at that.


Blaine gathered himself from the leather couch when the first bell rang. He wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath before he could face the hallways. Bodies pushed by him as he fought the flow of traffic to get to the second floor.

By the time he got to his class he was sure that his eyes no longer betrayed the hurt of the morning. He could get through today. He would sit in the back of class and finish the song he had been writing last night in his head. Ms. Slant would let him get away with sitting in the back of class and not talking.

He seated himself and took out his completed homework. He didn't make eye contact with any of the other students as they filled in before the second bell.

"Justin Allen?" Ms. Slant read off her clipboard.

"Here." Justin was marked off the list.

"Blaine Ander-"She stopped. "Hun." She looked down at her list again, scanning more carefully. Then she rapidly flipped through the sheets on her clipboard. She paused for a second, looking up. "Will you report to the office Blaine?" Her eyes were sad when she looked at him.

Blaine nodded, tight lipped, and stood.

"You should probably take your bag."He voice was soft and tinged with compassion.

The class was deadly silent as Blaine reached down for his bag. He hoped that it was about his perfect attendance record, or the fact that he was top of all of his classes. But with how this day was going, he doubted it.

His footsteps in the halls were heavy and slow, in complete contrast to the flutter his heart was in. He had never been to the office before, not since his first day. Even then, at least his parents had been with him.

The secretary nodded him in directly to the Headmaster's office.

"Ah, Blaine. Good to see you even if it is under these conditions. Please sit. " He smiled and gestured for Blaine to sit down. Blaine took the seat, trying not to stare too hard at the broad man in front of him. When he had first met the Headmaster Blaine had been reminded of a giant frog with small glasses squashed on his face, like something out of The Wind in The Willows. At least some things hadn't changed. "You are a model student, Blaine. It is a sad day for this establishment that we are losing you."

"Sir?" Blaine dropped his bag and tried to focus on what the Headmaster had said. "I'm not in trouble?"

"Of course not." The man looked surprised. "Your transfer papers went through this morning."

"Sorry, my what?"

"Did your parents not tell you?" The Headmaster sighed and pushed a button on the intercom. "Mrs Findlay? Please get The Andersons put through to me. Thank you."

"What-where am I being transferred?" Blaine's hands shook, but he already knew the answer.

There was a shuffling of papers as The Headmaster found the correct line. "St. Augustine's Prep."

Blaine clenched his mouth around a sob. They wouldn't. They couldn't.

The Headmaster looked mildly uncomfortable and shifted in his seat "You know, Blaine. I-"

The phone rang once. He picked it up and handed it to Blaine.

"You didn't." Blaine's voice came out low and defeated.

"Didn't do what, Honey?"The silky sweat voice floated out of the phone.

"Mom, please tell me you didn't send me back to that school." Blaine tried his best to stop the shake in his voice.

"Your father and I thought it was best love. I can't believe I forgot to tell you." Her voice trailed off slightly. "There was something else as well, but I can't quite remember."

Blaine tried not to lose her. "Mother. I can't go back there. Do you remember what happened to me? Remember all those stitches? I won't be safe. That is what I came here, remember?"

"Oh sweetie, that was years ago. Those boys have probably graduated by now. And this school will look better on your transcript for Yale. Do you know how hard it is to get into their pre-med program?"

"I am not going there. I am not going to be a doctor."

"Don't be silly dear, this is not a good time. Now, I really must go. Emily will be here any minute and those martinis aren't going to mix themselves!"

"Bye, Mother."

"Hold on just a titch, darling. I remember now. Your room! We missed it last time we re-decorated, so I asked them to start on it this morning. You will have to stay in one of the guestrooms for the next few days. But you will like the pieces I picked out for it! It's all chrome! Exciting, no? Daddy sends his love from the beach. Talk to you later, love." The line when dead in his hand.

Not that Blaine noticed.

The Headmaster looked at him in sympathy. "You could stay, just for this afternoon." His stern look softened over his tiny rectangular glasses.

"No." Blaine stood up looking down at his shoes. "I want to go, home." Oh how he wished he could.


Thank you to Jen and Christine for reading it over for me. I have A LOT more planned out for this story and I really want to get it all written.

Thank you for reading! And I am always happy to hear suggestions and such!

Also I am not sure about the rating. *looks at smut longingly but with apprehension*