For eight years, Blaine sings because his big brother does. He enjoys singing, for sure, but he prefers finger painting and playing the piano. Mostly because Cooper doesn't like getting messy and he doesn't even know which key is middle C.
His masterpieces stop going up on the fridge when he turns seven, and so he starts collecting them in loose leaf notebooks instead. After Cooper leaves home, he regularly arranges galleries for his parents in the dining room. They 'ooh' and 'ah', until gradually they're too busy to even attend dinner every night.
And gradually, Blaine stops collecting his own drawings, and starts collecting pictures of attractive men in various states of undress (though never naked) and printing out positive It Gets Better stories.
Thanksgiving is saturated with various forms of "I bet you break all the girls' hearts!" and "Got a girlfriend yet, eh, kid?"
Blaine's mouth gives away nothing of his heart's crying.
When he comes out six months later, he surprises everyone.
Blaine's wrist gets broken, and he misses the piano more than he thought possible. He blasts P!nk and writes angry poetry until he starts at a zero-tolerance boarding school the next fall.
The poetry is terrible.
At Dalton, Blaine rediscovers music. It feels like freedom.
At Dalton, Blaine finds Kurt. It feels like being reborn.
Sometimes, Sam ropes Blaine into making macaroni art. Occasionally, Blaine makes scrapbooks, and occasionally, Kurt helps. Often, Blaine breathes music.
Always, Blaine tries to make Kurt smile.
Blaine can be anything on the stage. Loud or quiet, strong or weak, sly or charming. He gets standing ovations and star reviews. But waiting in his dressing room is a bouquet of roses, always signed, With love. And that is when he shines.
